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serpentandlily · 7 months

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Untouchable III - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst

a/n: Okay all your comments/reblogs have literally made me dieeee laughing. Y'all are so funny lmao. Hope you enjoy this one! I had lots of fun writing it <3

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part III

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The cool night breeze kissed the flesh exposed by your silk nightgown as you sat on the railing of your balcony, dangling your legs over the edge. You could faintly hear music and the sound of laughter as Velaris came alive around you. You blew a loose strand of hair out of your face as you gazed up at the bright moon glowing down on you in the night sky.

“I need some advice right now, Mama,” you whispered into the night. “Everyone seems to be finding their place in this world but I…I don’t know where I belong or what I’m even here for. And everything has been falling apart recently and I could really, really, use one of your hugs right now.”

After the disastrous training session this morning, you had spent the rest of the day watching over Nyx. Being with him made you feel better. Your nephew was a reminder that there were more important things in your life than a certain shadowsinger and his crazy mood swings.

But now Nyx was asleep and you were left alone with your thoughts once again.

Azriel had been so rough with you today, so cruel. And your heart panged with the thought that he would never dare treat Elain, or even Mor, like that. You let out a sigh and drew one knee to your chest, resting your head against it. Would this heartache ever go away? Or were you cursed by the Mother to forever yearn for a male who would never want you?

Somehow you could sense him before you even heard the flap of wings. A thud sounded behind you and the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar flooded your senses. His presence felt heavy and dark and you refused to turn around despite the way it put you on edge.

Silence. Nothing but tense silence filled the air. If it wasn't for Azriel's looming presence behind you, you might've thought you imagined him coming. You waited a breath...then another. Still nothing. You felt him take a step closer to you; his shadows eased their way between your arms, over your shoulders, through your hair. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck.

Another moment went by and you couldn't take it anymore. You blew out a low breath.

"I didn't snitch on you if that's what you're thinking," you scoffed, your gaze never straying from the moon. "You can blame that on Cass. So if my brother sent you here to apologize, save it."

Silence once more. Your grip on the edge of the stone railing tightened. Why wasn't he saying anything? Why did he come here?

"Rhys didn't send me here." You almost jumped at the sound of his voice, your heartbeat rising. "In fact, your brother forbade me from seeking you out."

Yet here he was, going directly against his High Lord's orders. Your brows furrowed but you refused to turn around, refused to look at him. So much had changed between the two of you in the last twenty-four hours.

"So why are you here?"

"I hurt you." His voice was as dark as his shadows.

You glanced down at your bandaged hand. The image of his cold face as he struck down on you with his sword replayed in your mind. But you weren't sure which had hurt more. The slice down your palm or the words he had spat at you.

"You did."

"Y/n..." he whispered your name. You felt his hand ghost over your shoulder, as if he were about to touch you, but his touch never came. "I'm sorry. I was...I was angry and I took it out on you—”

"You weren't just angry, Az," you cut him off. "You were angry with me. Why? What did I do to earn your ire?"

You finally turned around and gasped as you caught sight of his face. He had a black eye, his left cheekbone was surrounded by black and purple bruises, and his bottom lip had been split open, though it looked to be already healing. His hair was tousled as if he had spent hours running his hand through it, some pieces hanging down his forehead.

"I deserved it," he said, darkly as your eyes searched his face for any more injuries. You knew your brother had been behind them. "You've done nothing wrong. Like I said, I wasn't angry with you."

You let out another scoff and jumped down from the railing. The ground was cold against your bare feet as you brushed past Azriel and strode towards the glass doors leading to your bedroom.

“Where are you going?”

You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I refuse to entertain a conversation with you if you’re going to blatantly lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” he ground out through his teeth.

You whirled around, crossing your arms. “Then why did you say all those things to me? If you were just angry, why not let off steam by sparring with Cass like you always do? You targeted me.”

“I didn’t mean any of the things I said, y/n.”

“You still said them.”

“Fine,” he snarled. He stalked towards you looking like a fallen angel straight from Hell, wings and all. You couldn’t help but take a step back. “Do you want to know why I’m so angry, princess?”

You gasped as he pressed a large hand flat against your sternum and pushed you against the wall, holding you there. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. His expression was dark, his jaw clenched.

“I’m angry because you let that undeserving, piece of shit male put his hands all over you,” he growled. “I'm angry you even let him look in your direction.”

You glared up at him. “Why should it even matter to you?”

“Because it does.” He slammed a hand against the wall beside your head causing your heart to pound in your chest. “It fucking does.”

“Why?” Your voice was a mere whisper.

Azriel sucked in a breath, his head dropping into the crevice of your neck. You didn’t think your heart could beat any faster or you might possibly die. He splayed his hand out on your stomach, holding you in place.

“Azriel?” you questioned, uncertain of what he was doing. He had never acted so erratic around you. You went to take a step forward but he slammed you back against the wall with the hand on your stomach.

“Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t move.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. He trailed his nose up your throat column, barely brushing against the fragile skin. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his touch, at his closeness to you.

“Az,” you started, placing your hand on his chest. “What are you—”

You stopped talking as he laid his hand over your much smaller one. He closed his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Don’t touch me.”

But his hand squeezed yours, keeping it in place. You were so confused—so utterly confused by his behavior. He pried your hand off his chest after a moment and you let your arm fall limp.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice was so low, it sent a shiver down your spine. His hand gripped your hip so tightly, the fabric of your nightgown bunching in his fist.

When his eyes opened again, he looked wild—feral. His hand slid up your waist, grazing the side of your breast, until it lingered on your throat. Heat started to coil inside of you. Fire burned a trail through your veins. You couldn’t find any words, your mind suddenly empty of every single thought except one.

Azriel took a deep inhale and you were certain he could smell your arousal. Your cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. But his pupils dilated at your scent, making his eyes look black, as the hand that was on the wall clenched so tightly, parts of the brick chipped off, clattering to the floor. His other hand moved up your throat to cup the side of your cheek, a scarred thumb brushing against your skin.

You swallowed audibly, frozen in place. You could scent his own arousal, could feel it pressing against your stomach, as his hard body kept you as its prisoner. Your mouth parted in a gasp and his head dipped down, his nose brushing against yours. And then his lips hovered over yours and you held your breath. Your body screamed at you to do something, anything. But he had ordered you not to move, not to touch him.

Your heart nearly stopped as his lips feathered yours and you waited. Waited for him to make the final move, to press his lips against yours for real. To kiss you. Something that had only ever happened in your dreams. But instead, he let out a loud grunt of pain and pulled himself away from you so quickly, it felt like you had been slapped.

You blinked up at him, disorientated. “A-Azriel?”

He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair, as his whole body seemed to tense. When he met your eyes, goosebumps covered your skin because of the darkness in his gaze. The hand at his side clenched in and out of a fist. Like he was restraining himself from something.

You were shaking like a leaf, glad the wall could support you, otherwise you were sure you would’ve crumbled to the floor. You waited for him to speak, to say anything that might explain what the hell had just happened. But when he finally did, his words were like a spear to the heart.

“Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.” The words came out in a snarl and his huge wings snapped out, casting a dark shadow over your form. Before you could even say anything, he launched himself into the air and disappeared into the dark night sky.

The breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding in was expelled out of your lungs and you slid down the wall until you were on the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. Your mind whirled as you tried to figure out what just happened.

But hours later, when the sun began to crest over the horizon, you were still so lost.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A few days passed by without you so much as catching a glimpse of Azriel. Apparently, your brother had sent him off on some mission, likely out of spite. Or perhaps even for your benefit. As much as you wanted to see him after that night on the balcony, his absence gave you time to think about what you wanted or needed to do.

Ultimately, you decided the next time you came across him alone, you would force him to talk to you, to tell you what the hell that night was about. It was only fair. You deserved an explanation after all. He had treated you like shit, then came to you and nearly kissed you, before disappearing. And his words had been ringing in your head every single night.

Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.

They made no sense to you. It had seemed like he wanted you that night, judging by the arousal you had scented, the feel of him against you. And you knew he could tell you wanted him too. So why would you be doing either of you any favors from staying away from him? It made no Godsdamn sense and you needed an answer to his cryptic words. So you would demand it of him the next time he came around.

You stretched your legs out on the couch, yawning as you placed a bookmark to keep your place in the novel you were in the middle of reading, and snapped it closed. It had been a long day of taking care of Nyx while Rhys and Feyre had to attend to some courtly duties. The house had been noticeably vacant today, just the two wraith twins occasionally floating in to check on you and baby Nyx.

Normally Elain was around to keep you company on days like this but even she had run off somewhere for the day. You had just started to get up, ready to retire to your bed, when the front door slammed open. You jumped at the noise, whirling towards the foyer. Rhys and Feyre weren’t due back until tomorrow morning, so who else could it—

Elain stumbled into view, followed by Azriel. Both hadn’t even noticed your presence as they kissed wildly, bumping against the walls as they moved inside. The scent of Elain’s arousal flooded the room and you choked on the scent causing them to break apart in surprise.

Your stomach sank at their appearance. The top buttons of Azriel’s shirt were undone, exposing some of the tattoos on his chest. Elain’s hair was in disarray, her lips swollen, as if they had been up to this for a while now. Well, that explained why Elain had been gone all day.

You stared at them with wide eyes as hurt slammed its way into you. Azriel had returned from his mission. He had returned and had sought out Elain. Hadn’t even thought to come to you to maybe give you some explanation of that night. You were probably the last thing on his mind right now anyways, that much was clear.

“Oh my Gods,” Elain exclaimed, placing a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I knew Feyre and Rhys would be gone and assumed you’d be in bed by now.”

Azriel said nothing, only stared at you with a cold, unfeeling look. You felt your breath shallow out, your nerves causing your hands to shake. You wanted to scream, wanted to vomit, to cry. But you did nothing. Just mustered up a small smile and muttered, “It’s okay.”

Elain went to say something else but Azriel grabbed her hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear, holding eye contact with you the entire time. “Come on, let’s go.”

He smirked as she blushed red and you could do nothing but just stare and stare at him. You didn’t move an inch as he pulled her away and up the stairs, Elain giggling the entire time. You didn’t move even after you heard her bedroom door slam close.

You thought there was no way he could’ve hurt you more, but you had clearly underestimated him. How could he? How could he…act like that with you and then just carry on as if nothing happened? How could he just carry on with another girl after that charged night? You hand clenched the book you were holding as you struggled through your feelings.

Your already broken heart somehow found even more ways to tear itself apart. But unlike months ago when you had caught them in the same predicament and cried all through the night and eventually fled from Velaris, no tears came this time. No tears at all. Instead white hot anger burned through you instead.

You were tired of being captive to your own feelings. Tired of letting the stupid shadowsinger have so much power over you. You were so unbelievably tired of being constantly hurt by him. You couldn’t even use the excuse that he had no idea what he was doing to you when he had just made it so clear he did.

Your jaw tightened and you gave yourself over to the rage you felt. He had told you to stay away from him. So you would. But you sure as hell were about to make it impossibly hard for him to stay away from you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The next two days, you did exactly that. You ignored Azriel entirely. Didn’t so much as look in his direction. At training each morning with the Valkyries, you made sure to have a sparring partner ready to go before he could even open his mouth and demand you train with him. You didn’t greet him, only hugged Cassian good-bye each day, and pretended you didn’t hear him when he would call out your name.

Meanwhile, you had spent your time in heated negotiations with your brother. You were ready to carve a place out for yourself in this court and after many discussions with him, Feyre and Mor, you three had reached a compromise. A certain letter that came from the continent had helped you plead your case.

And that is why when Rhys stood up at family dinner, clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention, you knew exactly what he was going to announce. You kept your hands folded in your lap, your shoulders held back, and your body angled away from the end of the table where the shadowsinger sat.

“Another announcement in a week?” Cassian laughed. “Don’t tell me Feyre’s having twins!”

Everyone chuckled as Nesta slapped him on the back of his head. He only grinned at his mate, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You smiled at their interaction despite the envy that crept its way into your head. Oh how you wished for that kind of love. Perhaps one day you would find your own mate and forget about the shadowsinger entirely.

“Gods no,” Feyre chuckled from beside Rhys who conjured a piece of parchment in his hand. “We come with some news from the continent.”

“I received some correspondence from Prince Cedric,” Rhys explained. “The King of Vallahan’s first born son and Heir to the Throne.”

“Go on, read it to them,” Mor said with a giddiness that caused you to smile.

Rhys read from the letter out loud:

To High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand,

I am writing to you because I have had the pleasure of spending the past month in the company of your lovely sister, y/n. I must admit, your sister has charmed my heart with her kindness, grace, wit and loyalty to your court. We know very little of Prythian’s courts here on the continent, but if your sister is a shining example of your citizens, I must admit, I am all the more curious about your court. As you might know, I am next in line for the Crown and my time may be coming soon.

In a world dictated by power, alliances between territories have allowed for stability and peace. When my time to wear the crown comes, I would like it to also come with the forging of two strong realms. With the utmost sincerity and goodwill, I believe a union between our territories through marriage would not only reward me with a beautiful bride, but prosperity and peace between our people. I assure you, High Lord, that I will propose with sincere commitment to your sister, to give her a life filled with love and respect as my future Queen.

I understand that this is not a decision that will be made without proper communications, so I am prepared to meet with you at your earliest convenience to discuss this matter further. I hope you consider my request and I will remain with anticipation until you reach out.

Sincerely yours,

Prince Cedric of Vallahan

Heir to the Throne

A fork dropped on the table somewhere behind you and the room was silent for a moment before Cassian let out a loud whistle. “Holy shit, y/n!”

Mor cackled, reaching over the table to give you a high five. “That’s right, our girl bagged herself a Prince.”

Your cheeks turned a bit pink at the attention. To be honest, you had no idea that Prince Cedric had been captured by you. It wasn’t like you engaged in any romantic courting or even so much as touched each other's hands. But your mere personality had won him over. Too bad he just wasn’t the male your heart had set its course on.

“Not just a Prince, girl,” Amren chimed in. “A future King.”

You could feel a heavy gaze settle on you from the other side of the table but refused to look that way.

“And what about you, y/n?” Nesta asked. “Did the Prince win over your heart as well?”

“I must admit, the letter came as quite a surprise to me,” you answered honestly.

“To me, as well,” Mor jumped in. “I mean, it’s not like they spent much time together outside of the formal dinners and parties we attended while there. Unless, of course, you snuck off with him while I wasn’t watching, you naughty wench.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I assure you, I was a proper lady during our time at the King’s Cross.”

“You certainly weren’t a proper lady during our time in Nysa,” Mor mumbled under her breath with a smirk. You kicked her under the table with a glare.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at Azriel this time. He was already staring at you, his jaw set, his fist clenched around the stem of his wine glass. You could’ve sworn a bit of jealousy shined in his eyes. You quickly looked away, not wishing to show him you even cared about his reaction, though you did.

“Well, as fun as this is,” Cassian said. “There’s no way you’d marry off your sister to go live in another territory. Right, Rhys?”

Rhys looked inclined to agree but Feyre nudged him in the gut with her elbow. “If that is what she wishes, she will always have my blessing. It is her choice, of course. But a marriage is not the announcement I planned on making today. I merely read this letter to you all to show you how successful y/n has been as a representative of our court. And because of that, we have officially decided to not only give her the title of Emissary, but she is also going to take over Mor’s position in the Court of Nightmares since Mor has had her hands full with negotiations on the continent.”

“It's about time you let your sister prove herself as a valuable member of this court,” Amren said, the closest thing you’d ever get as a congratulations. She did give you a small smirk, pride shining in her silver eyes.

“She has always been a valuable member,” Cassian snided but smiled at you regardless. “If this is what you want, y/n, then congratulations! I’m glad I’ve taught you all the ways to kick ass, especially if you’re now going to be spending more time in Hewn City.”

You laughed but gave him your thanks. Feyre proposed a toast for you and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face for the rest of the night as they planned for announcing the shift in leadership to Hewn City. You had already bought your dress for the occasion, ready to make the shadowsinger eat his heart out. You even felt a bit vindicated as a certain male decided to spend the rest of his own night brooding in his shadows.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Azriel tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Both his mind and his shadows seemed to be in a permanent state of chaos ever since dinner. He couldn’t get the image of you smiling as Rhys read the Prince’s letter out of his mind. He had never considered the possibility of you leaving this court, had never thought Rhys would ever allow that.

He threw his sheets off, standing up and prowling towards the floor length mirror in the corner of his room. His eyes fell on the skin above his hip, on the small tattoo of Illyrian wings with a sword going straight through the middle of them.

He wished he could take truth-teller and slice that bit of skin right off his body. But even with its absence, the burden of it would never disappear. He let out a curse, pure rage racing through him. How could he have known things would turn out this way? How could he have known how much pain that tiny tattoo would eventually bring him?

His fist shot out, punching straight through the mirror. He was so angry he didn’t even feel the pain of the tiny shards of glass piercing his scarred flesh. Gods, this was all so fucked up. So incredibly fucked up.

His heart pounded as he thought about how you had felt pressed against him that night on your balcony. How your scent had driven him crazy. How stunning you had looked under the moonlight in that tiny nightgown. The Princess of Night was an accurate title for you and all your beauty.

He fell on his knees, the broken shards of glass crunching under his weight, letting the blood from his hand drip down on the floor. No pain would ever compare to the one he felt now. The pain of craving you. Craving the touch of your skin, the taste of your tongue, the moans he could drag from that pretty little mouth.

And Gods, the way you had looked at him. He had almost caved. Had almost decided to burn it all to the ground for one chance to taste you, feel you, claim you. But he couldn’t. So he went back to doing what he always had–keeping you at a distance. It hurt to do so, even more so whenever he saw how much it hurt you, but it was better this way. You needed to move on, needed to look for love elsewhere.

Life had always been unfair to him but this, this was quite possibly the worst of it. For he knew he would always yearn for you, crave you, love you—but only ever from a distance. Because for him, you…you had been made untouchable.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

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#acotar #azriel #original character #fanfic #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar fanfiction #angst #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #shadowsinger x reader #acotar series #fanfiction #acotar writing #azriel fic

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

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Part 2 to this post

When gay marriage became legal, everyone expected Steve and Eddie to run to the courthouse and get it done.

They’d waited long enough.

But they were watching the news on a hospital room television instead of their home, keeping Wayne company while he received his last chemo treatment.

It had been a really rough six months, Eddie taking the brunt of caring for Wayne so Steve could work and pay the bills for all of them. But they wanted to.

Wayne had done so much for both of them, he deserved to be taken care of now.

The doctors had said he was getting to an age where the chemo would most likely only extend his life by a few years at most, that the cancer growing in his body would only be stopped temporarily by this drug that made him weaker than any cancer could.

At first, he didn’t want it. He told them both it wasn’t worth putting his body through it at his age, but Eddie convinced him through tears that he wasn’t ready to let him go yet.

And Wayne always did have a soft spot for Eddie’s tears.

Every other Friday, Wayne was brought to the hospital by Eddie, sometimes accompanied by Steve if his day off lined up right, hooked up to an IV of fluids and a harsh chemo mix, and kept for observation for 8 hours to ensure it didn’t cause any major issues on his frailer than he’d like to admit body.

The last treatment hadn’t gone well. Wayne ended up having low oxygen levels and high blood pressure, so they kept him overnight. Overnight turned into 3 nights, four days, which is sort of like a cruise to the Bahamas if you take out the fact they were in a hospital in Indiana.

Steve was holding Eddie’s hand as they all watched the tv, their silver wedding bands from a decade ago resting on their ring fingers.

It didn’t have to be legal to mean something to them.

Wayne had been much livelier over the last 24 hours, his blood pressure back at a normal for him level, though his oxygen level still fluctuated between too low and normal.

“Would ya look at that? They did it.”

Steve looked over at where he was sitting up in bed, smiling at the tv.

“They did.”

Eddie was wiping a tear from his cheek.

“Took them long enough.”

Everyone in the room huffed out an unamused laugh.

It did take way too long.

“Steve.”

Steve looked back over to Wayne and noticed he was looking tired again, like the news was the only reason he’d been forcing himself to be awake.

“You remember that bet?”

They’d made a lot of bets over the years, usually during March Madness. Wayne purposely bet against Steve because it was an easy win, even though they liked the same teams and often had similar brackets.

So no, he didn’t really remember whatever bet he was talking about now.

“Oh come on. I’m the old one here. You’re supposed to have great memory.”

“I’ve had like, eight concussions. My memory is like a goldfish.”

Eddie snorted next to him and nodded in agreement. Just this morning Eddie had to remind him that it was trash day despite it being the same day every week for the last 17 years they’d lived in their house.

“You owe me $5.”

“I’d remember that.”

“Eddie asked for you.”

Steve and Eddie looked at each other with concern. Was Wayne having a stroke? Was he slowly losing lucidity? He’d never shown any signs of memory problems, but sometimes being in the hospital had a lot of negative effects.

“When Eddie woke up in ‘86. I told you he’d ask for ya first and he did. Never collected on the bet because you two were too much.”

Steve suddenly remembered everything from that day, tears pooling in his eyes at how all of this started.

If he hadn’t stayed to hold Eddie’s hand then, would he be holding it now? Would they be husbands in every way but legally?

Steve looked at Eddie with a smile.

Then he turned to Wayne and smirked.

“Bet you $5 I propose right now.”

Wayne smirked back at him.

“Bet you won’t.”

Steve gave him the look that said ‘just watch me’ and stood up, dropping to one knee slowly.

“Eddie Munson. We already wear rings. We’ve lived together as husbands for so long, I can’t even believe we aren’t actually married. But I want to be. I want to fill out the stupid paperwork at the courthouse and maybe plan a little wedding with our kids and family. I want to have a honeymoon and be young and in love even though we aren’t young anymore. I want to be yours in every way starting right now. How does that sound?”

Eddie was crying. He was always more emotional than Steve, he just hid it better. Usually.

“You wanna be mine?”

“I’m already yours. I just want us to have everything.”

“Then I wanna be yours.”

“Good.”

Eddie leaned forward and kissed him, more passionately than they usually ever did in public or around Wayne. It was a special occasion, though, what choice did they really have?

After a minute, Steve pulled away and looked over to Wayne.

“Sorry about your $5.”

“I’m not.”

Wayne had never been more pleased to not be able to collect on a bet.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ao3fic #tumblr drabbles #headcanon #part 2 #stranger things #my fic #wayne munson #future fic #wayne is old and sick here but he does not die

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chrisevansonly · 6 months

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𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: charles leclerc x female reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: life is too heavy to carry, thankfully your boyfriend will carry it with you

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: talks of mental health and suicidal thoughts, mentions of depression, heavy topics so please read at your own discretion

𝐚/𝐧: i’ll be honest this is self indulgent and i know i said i wasn’t writing but idk i feel so low and thought writing about how im feeling might help? ive struggled with mental illness my whole life so i find writing it out in a way i can enjoy helps…i hope it helps others that are in need of it too<3

Life is painful, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, it’s dark and gloomy, heavy and hard to carry, life is painful. Okay well maybe not for everyone but for you it was, and it was draining, exhausting really trying to survive each day instead of living like everyone else. Truth be told you’d struggled with mental illness for as long as you can remember. In high school the suicidal thoughts came into play and you had fallen into a place no one deserved to fall.

You’d hear people tell you to smile, cheer up, get outside and take in the fresh air, but they don’t understand. They don’t get the internal pain one feels when they deal with depression and anxiety, unless you live it: you don’t get it.

So yes, life was painful but there was an ounce of sunshine in your life and it came in the form of Charles, your boyfriend of exactly three years. The man who broke through the storm to bring you blue skies and calm waters, the man who held you tightly as you cried for a break, aching for a moment of peace within yourself. Charles was a gift, you were sure of it: he was too.

“my love…?”

His voice was soft, delicate as it filtered through the dark bedroom, eyes filled with concern as he looked at you huddled under the blankets, almost willing them to swallow you whole

“hmm?”

It might not have been a word but Charles would take it

“can I get you anything? do you need something?”

The room fell silent again except for the sound of covers shifting, your head peaking over the duvet

“y-you please”

Hearing your voice break was enough for Charles to promptly move from his place in the doorway, lifting up the covers on his side of the bed before settling down and pulling you into his side, letting you virtually melt against him

“okay, okay i’m here, it’s okay amour..”

“it-it hurts”

“i know baby, i know it does…but it will only hurt for a little, i promise you.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but how many years would you have to suffer before it truly felt like you would never know how to feel okay.

“it’s hard to be here”

Now this caught Charles attention right away, having known your past with depression and even suicidal thoughts, he felt his blood run cold at the thought of you being anywhere than right here with him

“listen to me baby, i know it hurts, i know it’s hard, but i promise you i will help you find your sunshine, i will help you find your happiness”

He paused shifting to rest a hand on your cheek, his thumb swiping at a stray tear on your cheek

“i love you with everything in me, and i will do whatever i can to help you through this, if you need me to carry more of the weight, let me, if you need a shoulder to lean on more than usual, do it. you are my entire world baby, i won’t ever leave you out in the dark to take this on all on your own..”

Letting out a soft sniffle you looked up at him, always appreciating just how much love he held for you in his eyes alone

“why, i-i’m so sad a-all the time”

“because i love you. it doesn’t matter if your angry, happy, sad it’s part of you, i love all of you no matter what, and i am not going anywhere”

Charles leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead letting you have a minute to just digest everything he was saying

“pinky promise?” you asked softly, holding your pinky finger out which brought a soft smile to his face

“pinky promise baby, always.”

Nothing else needed to be said as you curled yourself further into his side, his arms only tightening on you, as if to keep you from slipping away from him. Charles knew words only helped so much, but he was willing to do whatever it took to bring you blue skies back. Even if it took days or weeks, even months, Charles was going to be right beside you, every step of the way.

Life might be painful, but you never had to go through it alone again.

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cowboy-robooty · 8 months

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MY LE AWEZOME ANGEL DEMON HETALIA AU!!!!!!!!!!!! now lots of this art is old as shit because ive had this in the making for forever.... but its better to unveil it now rather than never amiright? i have a lot more art for this au already drawn and I'll post it later but heres the basic rundown intro to dis world (me trying my best to condense it as much as I can) ^_^

CHARACTERS:

Italy: He's an exorcist with his older brother Romano. They work at a dingy church managed by Hungary and Austria and they both suck at exorcising demons (that's why their church looks like a piece of shit). Italy is a fucking pussy and almost dies all the time, especially because Romano keeps giving him all the ultra scary hardcore demons since he's like "ermm fratello you take this one. i did like 60 easy demons last week go do this one that will definitely kill me". He has Germany wrapped around his finger since one day when he was tasked with exorcising a super scary demon he didn't have enough to sacrifice to successfully summon an angel to come to his aid, so in a fit of panic he instead tried summoning a demon. Germany is the one who appeared and helped out Italy and also generally feels worried for Italy because he's like "how the fuck have you even survived this long?". And now Italy just always summons Germany for help and general bullshit because he found out Germany will literally do anything and goes out of his way to help out Italy and is way cheaper to summon than an angel. He keeps Germany a secret from Austria and Hungary though since they'd FREAK if they knew he had a demon helping him out with literally everything. Italy does exorcisms because he has a goal of ascending his soul to become an angel to reunite with grandpa rome, since as a child him and romano were raised by grandpa rome as their guardian angel. Germany is now helping him out with that goal and also providing him company and cookies. Itager is real but that will be explained more later. His holy item is rosary beads with a cross attached. When an angel weilds it then the beads become a safety wrist strap and the cross becomes a white flag. But in times of need and great synergy it can also become a scythe.

Romano: Italy's older brother who works as an exorcist alongside him. His exorcisms suck for the opposite reason Italy's does. Instead of being too lenient he beats the shit out of demons for pleasure. There's etiquette to exorcisms and Romano does not follow that shit at all. His ass is still crucifying and throwing lighter fluid on demons even after they've completely given up and are waving white flags. Because of this, this actually violates the rules of battles between demons and angels (since you're supposed to stop once the other party admits defeat) and thus in the end gives a penalty which gives them a free pass to fulfill the human's wish with no intervention despite how Romano beat them. He's such a fail exorcist because he fails every exorcism since he gets too into beating demons senseless and then when he encounters an actual scary high level demon he shits his pants and forces Italy to fight them. His ultimate goal is to ascend his soul with his brother in order to reunite with grandpa rome as well. But actually secretly the reason he wants to ascend isn't to reunite to grandpa rome, but rather to reunite with Spain. Since grandpa rome mainly focused on Italy while Spain ended up actually being a guiding figure in Romano's life despite him not officially doing the Guardian Angel program with him. Prumano is also real but that's to be explained later. His holy item isn't holy at all it's just a normal bag of salt. Sometimes he mixes glitter with the salt.

Germany: He's a demon that has just recently come of age. He's a really low ranking demon because of this and only lives within the first circle of hell. He has to provide for not just himself but also his brother Prussia who is a fail demon who sucks at all the jobs he gets and basically was bumming around on couches and shit until Germany came of age and was sent to hell. Prussia acted as a mentor and older brother figure when they were both growing up and Germany thought for sure that Prussia became an angel so he was heartbroken when he was chosen as a demon. But then he found Prussia immediately in hell and is taking responsibility of having his back because they have a strong sibling bond together. His sense of responsibility and competative nature of the job market is why he was the only demon willing to fulfill a summonings request for a priest, since he really needed the money to keep him and Prussia afloat. Him and Italy form a genuine close bond though, and Italy makes a "deal with the devil" later on.

Prussia: He's an absolute fail demon who can't get any of his jobs done so he relies on Germany to make all their money to survive in hell. He usually tags along with Germany when he goes to the human world because he's bored and LOVES the human shit (especially Arbys). This is against the rules, since angels and demons can only go to the human world if they're summoned. But also Prussia is a low-ranking demon who lives in the worst circle of hell, so it's like someone going missing in New York City; people aren't really going to notice. This backfires on him though since whenever he tags along to the human world with Germany he always ends up running into Romano. At first his and Romano's relationship is a pretty painful one since Romano can beat the shit out of Prussia as he likes since Prussia is not in the human world for work, so he can't give Romano any penalties for beating the shit out of him. So really it's just Romano terrorizing Prussia every time he goes to the human world for Arbys. But eventually they fall into a routine together and the initial thrill of beating up a demon as much as he likes wears off on Romano since Prussia keeps giving the same reactions. They end up becoming friends, although Romano would never admit this because he keeps adamantly proclaiming he hates demons and hopes they all die.

Russia: Russia is an exorcist who works at a church run by China. He works alongside America and Canada as fellow exorcists. Him and America have a never ending rivalry because America keeps accusing him of being a satanist. This is true though since Russia actually bats for both teams. He's a priest when it's beneficial for him to be a priest and a satanist when it's beneficial to be a satanist. He usually is a priest though since they're on the winning team. He also doesn't have to sacrifice anything to summon his angels, since he has the baltics as angels that he can summon at will for no charge (because they're terrified of him). Honestly he isn't all that much better than Italy and Romano at his job either, since he constantly scares off clients and has questionable practices. He does this line of work because he just enjoys this line of work and loves all the friends he can make in it. His holy item is a Bible which has a book mark in it. That bookmark marks the spot that separated the holy verses and the satanic verses in his "bible". When he recites these verses they give magical buffs to the demon/angel he is reciting them for. He also has a holy magic metal pipe of pain which is just a metal pipe that he baptized (nobody knows if it actually has holy power in it, since everyone gets knocked out from it instantly).

America: He works alongside Russia in exorcisms and usually they both suck at their job because they constantly tag along with each other to try to one up another. This makes them end up sucking at what they do. He's a priest because he likes feeling like a hero and feels triumph in fighting for "justice". He had England as his guardian angel as a child, but rebelled against him in his teens by denouncing God when he had his emo phase. Now he obviously grew out of it and is a priest now, but his relationship with England is strained because of the emo phase. He's a priest, but always argues against England that he's doing it for himself, not because of England's mentoring since he doesn't even want to ascend his soul. Although ascending would totally be super neat and the most befitting reward for a hero... **looks around**. His holy item is his bottle of holy water. He can splash the water in the air and the water droplets will turn into biblically accurate angel eyes that can shoot rays of light at enemies (super awesome lazer eyes).

England: He's a pretty high ranking angel that acted as America's guardian angel for a while. Not much to say here since I've already explained most of what he has done in America's description. In this AU England sees America as his stupid annoying favorite child son.

France: Not much to say here either. He was Canada's guardian angel as a child and that's about it for priest AU specific lore. He constantly is bickering and fighting with England. Him and England torment Germany because they think that he's a evil demon that infected Italy's mind and a sly bastard for doing work for a PRIEST when an angel is supposed to be helping Italy out. Neither of them think Italy is to blame for Germany and Italy's involvement with each other because Germany is ugly and ugly people are always wrong.

Spain: He basically acted as Romano's guardian angel despite the fact he really wasn't his at all. He mistakenly thought he was assigned him and took up the role, but ended up getting attached and sticking around to raise Romano anyways. He's pretty carefree and just like Spain in the show of course. He has a bad habit of forgetting to mention extremely crucial information though.

China: He runs the church that America, Russia, and Canada work at. He doesn't believe in God at all and is a Buddhist. But he runs the church because to him it's like his corner store business (like a 7/11 but with less mess). He takes care of the finances and such of the church and really does treat the church as if it's just his corner store he owns. This causes China to do a lot of special business events that force Austria and Hungary's church to compete against them since they need money too and if China's going to have a buy one get one free sale then they'll do it too. A running gag that is revealed as the series goes on is that China is correct about everything pertaining to how angels, demons, and humans work.

Japan: He's China's nephew and works as his apprentice at the church. He also does not believe in God nor Buddha, but says he's Buddhist to appease his uncle. He's a college student who's studying to take the DAT at the moment, so he does this as a part time job for money and something on his resume. He often hangs out with Italy since China gives him the job to scope out their "competition" (because he has to make sure the other church isn't doing as well as his) and Japan just ends up hanging out with Italy and Germany a lot. He honestly wishes he was more involved in the adventures they have, but he's too Japanese and not deadass enough to just ask to be invited more often.

Canada: He's America's brother everyone forgets exists and literally the only reason why China's church is so swag and not poor as shit like Austria and Hungary's. Because he's the only priest that actually does proper exorcisms. Everyone forgets he exists, but he's always working in the background and making like 70% of the profits that the church makes lol. His holy items are changed out between crosses, bibles, etc. Because he actually uses his items in a practical sense instead of sticking to one item and acting as if that's his thing now.

BASIC WORLD INFORMATION:

- angels and demons are species that gain power from human belief. they are raised together and then when they come of age they are either chosen to become an angel or demon

- because of this angels and demons both have the goal of fulfilling human wishes to gain more belief

- angels are obviously beating the shit out of demons in their never ending competition for human belief magical power. and thus they always get first pick for who becomes an angel while the demons get the leftovers

- angels also generally have much more magical power than demons, so many of them can do cool magical tricks while most demons have to do things manually. That's why demons are often more buff and physically strong since they have to work out to fight.

- angels are chosen not by the goodness of ones heart, but rather how good they are at rizzing and being well liked in order for humans to like them

- because of this, human's understanding of each side's morality is completely wrong since both act as buisnesses (and arguably angels are more corrupt since they play dirty)

- humans do not become angels or demons when they die. their souls reincarnate over and over again.

- different practices such as "selling your soul to the devil" and "guardian angels" and explanations for why demons are regarded as evil will be explained in later posts.

- the social heirarchy and way jobs work within hell and heaven will also be described in later posts

- Angels and demons also are responsible for santa's activies and bond together during the holiday season to reap the benefits of power from children's belief in "santa" (a persona that was created by satan and god together, so they split the power that comes from the belief in it)

- Priests and satanists in this world act as soldiers to stop the opposing angels/demons from fulfilling human wishes.

- they use their holy/satanic items to battle against angels/demons in the area, and if needed use sacrifices to call upon angels/demons to provide aid in battling against whoever they are fighting. The better the sacrifice, the higher quality the angel/demon that appears will be due to the higher pay.

- Their holy/satanic items act as buffs/weapons for their angel/demon that they summoned if they choose to summon one.

- holy items only go with angels and satanic items only go with demons. holy items will always hurt demons and satanic items will always hurt angels.

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stvrn-tr1ps · 12 days

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”i bet you don’t know french.”

pairing: stoner!chris x female!reader

warnings: SMUT!!!!, sm0king/w33d, usage of pet names (ma, pretty girl, sweetheart, ect.) mentions of alcohol, p in v, dominantish chris, light ch0king, aftercare, umm i think thats it?!?! minors dni or do idc (lmk if i missed smth, first time writing smut don’t come 4 me)

summary: chris confesses his love for y/n in french not knowing she could understand him.

if you don’t like it don’t read it‼️‼️‼️

i was never the type to smoke or drink until i met chris. the first time i smoked w33d i was with chris. the first time a drank i was with chris. i never really stopped so we smoke together all the time. speaking of im on my way to his apartment right now.

i knocked on the door for to be opened to chris standing there already smoking a blunt. “hey ma. how have you been?” he asks as he steps aside to let me in. “good.” i say with a soft smile as i go in to hug chris. “thats good. come on lets go on the balcony.” he motions for me to follow him and i do. once we get out there he hands me the blunt that he was already smoking. “can you do a french inhale?” i ask. I’ve always sucked ay doing them and was curious to see if chris could.

“yea let me see it.” he says pointing towards the blunt. like he said he could, he did a near flawless french inhale. i laughed and rolled my eyes. “whatever i bet you don’t speak any french.” i figured he didn’t he was never the schooling type like i was. i took french in high school. “je t'aime ton prénom, je l'ai toujours aimé.” (i love you y/n, i always have.) (if this is wrong don’t come after me i got ts from google translate😭) he said in immediate response. i jerk my head back in shock. he loves me? “holyy shit was does that mean?” i say playing dumb i know exactly what he just said. his eyes go wide “oh uhh it means, do you wanna have lunch tomorrow” he said almost like a question like he couldn’t convince himself thats what he just said.

“damn i was not expecting you to know french.” i said laughing it off. he gave me a tight smile in response. “i had a lot of fun today chris. i’ve missed hanging out with you all the time.” he sighed “me to y/n. we should hang again tomorrow?” he said like it was half statement half question. “yeah sure see you tomorrow chris” “see ya ma.” he said as he shut and locked his apartment door behind me.

its now around 12:30am and ever since i left chris’ apartment yesterday i haven’t been able to stop thinking about what he said. “i love you y/n i always have.” what.the.fuck. what do i do? i mean he’s my best friend and has been since like 7th grade. before i can stop myself my phone is in my hand and im calling chris. “hello? y/n is everything okay? its 12:35 in the fucking morning.” he answers. you can tell i woke him uo his voice is deep and raspy. “i-i’m sorry chris. i know this is random but can i come over like right now?” he pauses and for a second i thought he hung up but i can hear him exhale over the phone. i shake my head and smile to myself, kid already lit a blunt. “i mean yeah sure. is everything okay?” i exhale a breath i didn’t even know i was holding. “okay thanks i’ll be there in 15 bye!” before he can say bye back the phone is hung up and i’m out of the door.

once i get to chris’ apartment i freeze before knocking. im so nervous but i do it anyway. he answers the door. chris is shirtless with gray sweatpants hanging dangerously low to his waist and a blunt between his fingers. “y/n are you okay? why are you here? not that i don’t want you here it just-“ before he can continue his sentence any longer i smash my lips into his. the kiss is deep and passionate. bye the time we release each others lips we’re gasping for breath. “when you said you loved me in french today, i understood.” he just shakes his head and laughs as he tosses me over his shoulder leading us to his bedroom. “you have no idea how long ive wanted this y/n.” he says just above a whisper.

he tossed me onto his bed and hovers over me. he goes in for another kiss. this one isn’t like the first this one is rough and dominating. as he works his tongue he reaches for the hem of my shirt. “take this off, yeah?” he asks. i smile and shake my head knowing i have no bra on underneath. i pull my shirt off and he lets out a groan. “so fucking beautiful y/n.” he says and he kneads one of my boobs. “and their all fucking mine.” he says grabbing the other. he lets go of one of my breasts and wraps his veiny hand around my neck. “say it y/n who does your body belong to? who do you belong to?” i let out a small whimper “y-you all you chris.” he smirks with satisfaction and amusement. “good girl, ma. such a good girl.” he praises. to this i let out a moan and start to grind my hips against him for some kind of friction. “ah ah y/n. be patient i’ll give you what you want pretty girl.” another whimper escapes my lips. “such a whiny girl. why don’t i fuck that whininess out of you, yeah?” i bob my head up and down at the speed of light in the hopes he will work faster.

he laughs and shakes his head. he slides off my sweats and underwear throwing them somewhere in the room. he smirks in amusement when he sees my pussy. “already so wet for what ma? i’ve barley started pretty girl.” he teases “please” i whine. “please what baby? i need words.” i’m breathless and i have no idea why. “please please fuck me chris please.” before i can get another word out he slams into me almost taking my breath away. “chris!” i moaned out. my nails are digging into his back probably drawing blood. “thats it baby. scratch me up, mark me.” “chris please! oh my god!” i moan and sputter out as he continues to thrust into me ruthlessly. “your so fucking tight y/n.” after a few more thrust im about to come. “come for me ma make a mess all over my dick.” his words send me over the edge and im quickly coming.

chris gets up from the bed. “be right back sweetheart.” he says and next thing i know i feel something against my pussy. i whimper. “still sensitive, no more.” he chuckles. “no baby im just cleaning you up.” i nod in response and close my eyes. im almost asleep when i feel the bed dip next to me. “g’night chris. “goodnight sweet girl.

AN: ... i’ve never written smut b4 don’t attack me. SORRY BEING INACTIVE.

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spectres-n-soap · 3 months

Text

Your Warmth is Fading - Soap x You x Ghost

Content Warnings - pregnancy complications, hospital stuff

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

It was late at night, long past visiting hours but your nightmare still haunted you. The taste of bile still lingered on your tongue and sweat still stuck to your skin. At least your breathing returned to normal. The quiet of the military hospital room was off putting but the machine showed Soap was still alive. The pattern of his heart beat, the IV bags hung up and the soft breathing of his soothed you.

You slinked over to the chair next to his bed and sat down. Soap looked better, no longer on death's doorstep even if all the tubes and wires connected to him unsettled you. His face was relaxed despite the discoloration of his right cheek. You thought back to what the doctor who had first reviewed the two of you had said. The comment was still bitter in your mouth. The doctor had called you both lucky. What a load of shite. Luck would have stopped it all from happening in the first place.

You kept an eye on Soap a little longer until sleep started to pull at you again. You stood up and before you left, your lips grazed his forehead. At least he was still alive.

"You're joking." you say, looking at the doctor with your brows pinched so tight you could feel your skin pulling tight.

"You should be in bed rest for the last month of your pregnancy." the doctor reiterated. "For your safety and the baby's." Simon looks between you and the doctor. He wants to side with the doctor and also strangle him. How could he have not caught this sooner? "Your baby being positioned like this will only cause more harm to your body the longer you move around.”

You shake your head, anger making your face turn hot. Those fucking Braxton Hicks hadn't been all Braxton Hicks but a major sign of your baby, Johnny's baby, being sideways. If it wasn't so fucking terrible you might be laughing. "How did you not catch this sooner?" you snarl.

"This is why we insist on check ups every week. So we can catch things like this.”

"But what about all the other check ups?" you huff and sit up, grasping onto Simon's arm for a little extra support. "What if you had missed it completely?”

"Ma'am please, getting aggressive will not do any of us any good.”

"A month I have to spend doing nothing." you grumble and cross your arms over your chest. You wonder, a thing you've been doing often, how Johnny would react to all of this. Wonder if he would be spitting mad and yelling at the doctor with a thick Scottish accent. You can almost hear it. Pulling from memories of him training recruits or yelling at an insubordinate recruit.

"It's for the best." Simon says, physically stopping himself from adding a 'love' to the end. He was sure you would throw your shoes at him if he let it slip. You had always been a firecracker and pregnancy seemed to amplify how quickly your anger flared up. It would be cute, he thinks, if he didn't know that you could gut him like a fish.

You glare at Simon the entire trip back to the flat, refuse his help getting out of his truck and slam the truck door shut hard. The last few weeks you've struggled up the stairs to your flat and now you're marching up them like you weren't advised to keep exercise low. “Would ya fuckin’ wait?” Simon huffs. Your glare could melt steel and you slam the flat door behind you. Simon groans and opens it to find you pacing back and forth.

“Just sit down.” Simon says and grabs you by the shoulders. You push him away a little, stumbling yourself from the force needed to do such an act.

“Don't tell me what to do.” you snap and run your fingers through your hair. You were sure you would lose your fucking mind if you had to rest all day for a month.

“You should update Mrs and Mr MacTavish on the situation.” Simon suggests, “Maybe Mrs MacTavish has gone through this before.” You glare at him but pull out your phone anyway and begin to type.

You're there when he wakes up, this time not high on pain meds. “Lass?” he groggily muttered and tried to rub at his eyes. Soap hissed when he felt the IV needle in his arm at the movement. “What ‘re ye doin’ here?”

“Waiting for you to wake up.” you stated, voice cool and Soap sunk further into blankets and hospital bed. He knew that look in your eyes, you were on the verge of an explosion. “What the hell were you thinkin’?” you snapped and flicked his forehead for good measure. “Running into that building like a man with a death wish.” you tossed your hands up in the air.

“Well I'm not dead.”

“I had to perform CPR on your MacTavish!” you snarled, “Blood loss might've fogged that part over but I remember!”

“Lass-”

“Do not ‘Lass’ me.” you stood from your chair, the spot you had nearly grown roots into if not for the different appointments you had due to the wounds on your hands. “You nearly died and I had to watch it. Do you seriously think I wouldn't be upset?”

“Lass I'm fine.” Soap tried to say and sit up. He groaned and clutched his side when the pain shocked through his system. “Bleeding Christ.”

You sat back down in your chair and wiped at your tears so he wouldn't see them. “You pull that shit on me again MacTavish and I'll let the crows eat you.”

“I'm not on bed rest yet Simon.” you huff and nudge Simon away and out of the kitchen. “I can make my own food.”

“Never said ya couldn't.” Simon mutters as he takes a step back.

“Go finish setting up the baby changing station.” you say, swallowing the snarl. You keep reminding yourself that this isn't Simon's fault. Mrs. MacTavish has texted back, telling you that she once had a friend with the same complication but not to worry. The month would pass quickly. You had to also turn off your phone to stop from messaging something hurtful. The military had always kept you moving. Running courses, training recruits or deployed into the field. Pregnancy had already shown you down and put you on light duty until you took leave.

You tap your foot as you stir the soup and your eyes drift to the front of your hands. The scars had faded well thanks to treatments but sometimes you wish they hadn't. Just as a reminder, something to run your hands over that wasn't your bulging stomach. You reach and turn on your phone, holding your breath as well as you could bring 7 months pregnant as the brands sign flashes.

You stare at your lock screen, a group picture of the 141. Back when Soap was alive. A ding as a notification pops up, a message from Mrs MacTavish from several hours ago.

“Would you like a baby shower before you have to go on bed rest?”

A baby shower? You had a small one at four months. Just Price and Gaz, Simon wasn't invited. The baby clothes you had were from those two. You really didn't want another. So much stress and surely more people. You had seen the family pictures on the wall in their house.

I owe it to them, you think as you type up the one word response, at least I owe them this much.

“Yes.”

#ghost mw2 #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap #call of duty #cod #john soap mctavish x you #mw3 spoilers #cod mw2 #simon ghost x reader #ghost x soap x reader

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heesdreamer · 1 year

Text

let you break my heart again

PAIRING ➩ jake x reader

SUMMARY ➩ attending the same college as your childhood friend ( and longtime crush ) jake sim, you weren’t prepared for the complete change in his personality.

GENRE ➩ playboy au! jake. based off the lyrics of the ‘let you break my heart again’ by laufey. romance ( slight angst )

WARNINGS ➩ suggestive content at times

WC ➩ 9.08k

feeling kind of sick tonight all ive had is coffee and leftover pie, it’s no wonder why

“I’m doing fine here mom…. no it’s great, I’ve made lots of friends. Of course I’m eating well mom, but I really don’t have time for this I’m super busy. No I love you too. Yes I will, talk soon bye.”

Hanging up the phone, you let it fall onto the floor beside you. You were sprawled out on your stiff couch, staring up at the chipping paint on the ceiling and letting your hand dangle off so your fingers were just barely brushing the carpeted floor.

It was starting to become exhausting to lie to your mom, at first it was merely an annoyance but now you genuinely felt like you were committing some sick act every time you spoke. Luckily for you, the longer you were away from home, she called less and less.

Moving away from your hometown always seemed big and scary to you and that’s why you longed for it so bad.

But here you were now and the excitement of an unpredictable independent city life was dimmed down and you were just left with a low amount of funds, and possibly a stress induced head cold.

oh, still you take up all my mind

Your phone buzzing lowly against the carpet caused your head to turn dramatically, leaning over with a groan and fumbling to grab it from off the floor in a haste.

Holding it up above your face, you squinted at the bright screen, and sighed when you realized it was just another spam email and not the message you’d been awaiting. Around this time yesterday you had drunkenly sent a message to Jake Sim, more on him later, and now you were sitting in misery waiting for his response.

Jake Sim was the only other person from your hometown that you knew who had made the move to the city. He actually was the original inspiration for your plans in the first place, being one year older and moving before you even finished high school.

At one point you’d have like to consider yourself friends, running in the same social circle and even hanging out one on one more than a couple of times. You weren’t exactly sure if he thought of you the same considering outside of your few close friends, he had lots of other connections and you completely lacked in that department.

i dont even think that you care like i do

Still, a true naive romantic at heart, you fell for him years ago and despite your knowledge that it can’t be more than a fleeting crush at most, you still felt the want to stay close to him even now.

When you first moved here and met with your dorm roommate, a small chirpy girl named Brit, she was kind and friendly and invited you out to a ‘start of the year’ party with a big warm smile.

“Y/N?” A voice coming from behind you caused you to freeze slightly at the recognition, never being able to miss his smooth low timber, before taking a deep breath and putting on a casual face as you turned around.

“Oh my god, Jake hi.” You were relieved that your voice came out surprised and natural, adorning an affectionate smile and resisting the urge to tug down your dress.

The dress in which his eyes were scaling down, an eyebrow cocked and then lowered when he met your gaze again and realized you were watching him check you out.

You were making your own quick assessments, his newly bleached hair looked darker than it did on his social medias, coasting closer to an ash honey color. You subconsciously raised a hand and pulled your hair in front of your shoulder.

“Why didn’t I know you went here?” He was taking a step closer to you and pulling you into a swift side hug, not moving away even after you both pulled apart. He was leaning against the wall and titling over you.

For a moment you almost frowned, almost told him that you had mentioned it a few times on both socials and in the slowly disappearing group chat of your high school friend group. Then you quickly remembered tonight was the first step in your attempt to stop being embarrassing.

So instead you slowly raised your shoulders in a relaxed shrug, turning so your back was against the wall he was leaning on and you weren’t facing him anymore. A smirk appeared on his face and for a moment you thought he might be seeing right through your act.

“Well, hit me up sometime then.” When he spoke this time it was a low murmur, leaning down to whisper it against your ear. You were positive he saw the shiver wrack through you and judging by the way he laughed and pushed off the wall, heading back into the crowd, you were right.

i should stop, heaven knows ive tried

You grabbed the couch pillow from beside you and pressed it tightly over your face, screaming into it and flailing your feet against the cushions. Their lack of foam and spring caused a low dull of pain to form in your legs but you ignored it.

You didn’t ever take Jake up on his offer, deciding that part of your new persona was definitely not going to include pining over boys who never looked your way. That didn’t mean you were giving up on your feelings, you just planned to have him come to you.

That lasted a total of five weeks and four glasses of wine before you were tipsy and sending him a message on Instagram that included four emojis and way too many exclamation points, inviting him to the party your roommate was throwing.

Said party was happening tomorrow and you felt weak and sweaty at both the thought of him not showing up and how awkward it would be if he did. A large part of you wanted to unsend the message but you imagined him seeing the notification that you did so and then questioning what you had said would be far worse than him seeing your invite and ignoring it.

“Girl is it that serious?” The sound of your roommates voice caused you to toss the pillow across the room and turn to see her judging face.

“Why did you let me do that.” You groaned out the words and turned on your side to face the couch. You felt the cushion dip as she sat next to where your head laid and let out a small sigh.

“What’s the worse that’ll happen?” Her voice was soft and you once again silently thanked the universe for giving you the nicest girl in the city as a roommate. “You said you’d been into him since like middle school.”

You didn’t say anything for a while and the guilt seeped in when you heard another small sigh fall from her lips.

“It’ll be fun regardless if he shows up, I promise.”

——

You were absolutely not having fun. It was almost impossible to considering you had spent the whole night anxiously keeping an eye out for Jake incase he decided to show up and ruin your life.

Giving up on trying to hold conversations, you started to swiftly make your way to the kitchen with the plan to duck behind the counters and wait for the night to end so you could crawl back onto your couch, which was currently housing multiple make out sessions, and resume last nights position.

“Are you avoiding me?” You had just turned the corner into the off limits room when you smacked into a strong frame, his voice immediately following and alerting you of who it was.

You backed away quickly and looked up at Jake, eyes trailing down to his black button up before stopping at his belt and looking to your right awkwardly. He let out a small chuckle and leaned forward to tap a finger against your head softly.

“Did you hear me?” He teased and you came to the realization that he was a lot different than he was back in your hometown, and unlike you, his cool show of confidence was genuine.

one day i will stop falling in love with you

You felt like a total idiot as you brought your attention back to him, looking up through your eyelashes to hold his gaze and you suddenly realized that you liked this newer cockier version of him too.

Being so used to his younger personality, his loud attention stealing laugh and big boxy smiles, you were hoping that the sight of his low lazy smirks would unnerve you. You wished his lack of usual dog like goofiness and awkward clumsy movements would wake you up out of your years of pining.

Yet watching him casually leaned against your wall and taking a slow sip from his cup, keeping eye contact with you over the brim, you considered the fact you might be more into him than you’d realized.

“I’m not avoiding you.” You finally replied, furrowing your eyebrows and crossing your arms in an attempt to show annoyance at the (totally true) accusation.

“I think you might be.” He let out a low hum, clearly enjoying teasing you and you felt your face flush when he leaned closer, similar to the way he peered over you the last time you’d seen him. “You know what else I think?”

You forced yourself to hold eye contact with him despite the close proximity and you raised an eyebrow in question. You felt the ghost of his breath on your face and you wondered what you would look like if somebody were to walk in right now.

“I think you look pretty.” He finished off his thought and you felt like your stomach flip upside down, your breath stuttering as you faltered backwards a few steps. Your felt the wall of the doors archway hit your shoulder blades and stopped.

Jake followed your movements, taking a few steps so he was just as close to you as he was previously.

Despite your obvious reaction to his effect on you, you still tried to show some dignity here before it was totally clear to him what a loser you were. You sucked in a deep breath and crossed your arms infront of you so he couldn’t come any closer.

“Who says I care what you think?” He smiled widened at your annoyed tone, clearly catching on to the fact that you were playing hard to get. His eyes dropped down to your chest where your arms were crossed and then back to your face.

You tried to control your breathing as you felt his hand smooth it’s way up your tensed arm, stopping at your face as he held your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. You watched him through your eyelashes as he titled your head up slightly and you, for a second, thought he let out a pleased scoff at the way you let him adjust you without complaint.

He was leaning in to talk again and you briefly noted that it wasn’t nearly loud enough for how close he was getting to your face, your eyes were darting around his features nervously as you waited for him to speak.

“Y/N.” The tension popped like it’d been stabbed with a knife, or rather by a poorly timed interruption by the name of Lee Heeseung. Jake didn’t back away from you, although his hand caressed your cheek before falling back towards your side, even when the other boys eyes widened at the sight of you pinned against the wall.

It didn’t surprise you when he leaned over your frame and gave Heeseung a handshake in greeting, considering he knew everybody, but what did slightly shock you was the annoyance on his face. Despite greeting his friend warmly, he didn’t seem at all happy to be interrupted.

His eyebrows were tensely pulled to the center of his forehead and he glanced at you with anger, eyes softening again when they met yours.

You, on the other hand, were extremely grateful for the excuse to get out of this room that was suffocating you with tension and confusion. You titled your head in Heeseung’s direction to ask why he had come to find you in the first place.

“Brit’s throwing up.” He winced as he said your roommates name, glancing back behind him towards the direction of the party. “Like kinda everywhere… I figured you’d want all of us out of here.”

You sighed softly and ignored the way Jake lowly groaned and took a few steps away from you, seemingly understanding the situation was too important for you to ignore. You offered him an apologetic smile and avoided his gaze.

“I’ll see you around?”

——

some day, someone will like me like i like you

It had taken just short of two hours to clear the apartment, and then almost double that to clean up the absolute destruction that was left behind by random classmates and passerbyers. Not to mention the almost extreme amount of vomit your roommate had managed to spew in multiple corners.

“I just want to be dead.” Said roommate was currently stealing your favorite position of sulking in misery on your couch. “And why does our couch fucking suck this bad.”

You let out a small laugh and she groaned at the noise, putting her hands over her eyes and mumbling about how embarrassing it must’ve been.

“I’m so sorry you had to clean it all by yourself.” She was mumbling and you smiled in her direction, doubtful she was looking at you or even able to see that far in her current state.

“I wasn’t by myself don’t worry.” She perked up at this, sitting up on the couch with another groan but looking far more alert. You shook your head and sighed out an explanation. “Heeseung stayed back to help. I felt bad that he did so I offered to get him coffee today”

“Oh my god.” She chirped loudly and threw her hands up in the air, hangover momentarily forgotten. You let her show a theatric amount of excitement, knowing she was desperate for you to have any sort of social life outside of stalking Jake on Instagram. “You have a date!”

“I absolutely do not have a date.” You shook your head again and left the kitchen, sitting cross legged next to her on the couch and looking at her intensely. “I’m serious Brit this isn’t a date, so don’t tell people I have a date.”

She pouted at you, and then even deeper when you rolled your eyes at her attempt to woo you with her cuteness.

“But it’s a big deal if it’s a date.” She tried to reason with you. “Besides even if it’s not a date maybe hearing you went on one will wake Jake up to the fact he’s missing out on all of this.”

You ignored the way she gestured down your body and seductively wiggled her eyebrows, remembering that you had forgotten to mention your intense stare down with Jake from last night. You decided it was best to not mention it so she wouldn’t feel guilty for getting sick even more than she already did.

Her idea of making Jake jealous was completely baseless and had no chance of working but for some reason you recalled the anger on his face when Heeseung interrupted you and your stomach turned with anticipation.

“Okay but you can only tell one person.”

——

until then, ill drink my coffee and eat my pie

It had been an hour and a half of sitting at the designated meeting spot Heeseung had texted you earlier that morning, and you were still alone minus the three empty coffee cups surrounding you.

You were trying to feign casualness so the waitress couldn’t tell you had been stood up on your date that wasn’t a date and that you were failing to prove that you weren’t a total loser still.

The chime of the door didn’t register to you, at this point you had stopped expecting him to show up and you were fully prepared to hide your face in class for the rest of your life and ban all contact with Lee Heeseung. Not even the sound of the seat next to you being pulled out caught your attention, only sinking lower in your stool at the bar.

A few moments of silence passed and you were just about to turn your head to the side, curious why the person sitting so close to you hadn’t made any move to order or seemingly breathe when they cleared their throat.

You hoped the way your eyes widened, mouth parting slightly in surprise, weren’t the reason for the proud smile on Jake’s face as he shifted in his seat next to you.

“Oh my god, what the fuck are you doing here?” You groaned and attempted to shrink in on yourself. Not only were you humiliated from being stood up, but now the last person you’d want to see you like this was here and smiling over at you.

“Here to save you from loneliness.” He was still smiling brightly, pointing at your emptied cup in a signal to the waitress for a refill. For a moment he resembled the younger Jake you were familiar with and your frown worsened. “Being ditched sucks.”

“How do you even know about that.” You grumbled, energy lost from the day. You gave a nod in thanks to the server who was filling up the mug you clutched tightly.

“Brit.” He shrugged and you groaned again at the realization your roommate had infact told more than one person about your meetup. “But you’re here alone so I pieced it together.”

pretend that we are more than friends

“Not technically alone I guess.” You reasoned and he smiled again as you spoke, seemingly happy that you were teasing back. You glanced at the waitress who was back behind the counter and she smiled when she met your gaze. Your face flushed, she must’ve figured your date had finally shown up.

“Well I don’t know about you but I feel like there’s better things we can do than sit in this coffee shop for another few hours.” He was standing from his stool as he spoke like he was positive you’d follow him and you hated that he was right.

——

“Do you even know where we are going?” You were looking out the window and watching hills fly by in a blur, eyebrows furrowed even though Jake couldn’t see you.

He chuckled softly and you turned your body a few degrees to glance at him as he drove, one hand on the steering wheel and the other shoved out the open window. His hair was going in different directions because the force of the wind and you noted his dark roots growing in.

You were curious if he planned to keep bleaching it or if he’d let it go dark again. If you were closer, more friends than whatever it was you were, you’d tell him you like it best black.

It was easier to picture the version of him you knew like that, you were so used to seeing his dark locks sleeping at random desk during free hours or rushing through the hallways so he wasn’t late for lunch. This new look and personality felt so unfamiliar.

“Just because I’m not telling you, doesn’t mean I don’t know.” He responded, sparing you a quick glance and raising an eyebrow when he caught you staring lost in thought. “Besides we are almost there, have some patience maybe.”

You slumped back in your seat, staring out the window again as you spotted a parking lot coming up in the distance. Your lips naturally formed a pout as you squinted and tried to make out where you were.

Jake pulled into the parking lot, gravel crunching under his tires as he pulled his hand back into the car and parked outside the lines. Only a few other cars were in this lot and you quickly realized where he had taken you.

“The beach?” It was starting to chill out now, the time of year where you much preferred sweaters and movie nights over days outside. You glanced over at him for confirmation and studied his expression.

For just a moment he looked nervous and slightly fearful, like he thought you wouldn’t be pleased or maybe you’d ask to just go home instead. Then it was replaced with a half smile and a shrug as he opened his door and hopped out of the car.

You took a few seconds to process his change of expression. You didn’t take this new Jake as somebody who cared what random girls they barely knew thought, maybe you were reading too far into a blank expression.

Before you could consider it further your door was thrown opened and you turned to see Jake waiting outside of it, holding it open for you and fully smiling now.

After a few minutes of silently walking down the sandy trail you couldn’t stand the silence. “How’d you find this place anyways?”

“You know Sunghoon?” You hummed softly in confirmation to his question. “He showed it to me when I first moved here. I guess I was complaining too much about missing home… missing…”

His sentence slowed to a stop and you glanced over at him, waiting for him to finish whatever thought he was having. He was already looking at you and he looked slightly pained before looking away and gesturing in front of you.

You turned your gaze away from him reluctantly and your features softened in awe at the view in front of you. Two sand hills were parted to reveal the result of your hike, a hidden beach with a light pink sunset off in the distance.

“It’s not as good as the ones back home but.” He didn’t finish his sentence again and this time you didn’t expect him to. Without thinking your hand was reaching down to tug on his sleeve, pulling him forwards and continuing your walk to the beach.

You let him go once the water was close enough that you could hear the waves, nearly drowning out your excited voice as the cold water splashed up and wrapped around your ankles. You heard Jake groan behind you and turned with a smile to see his jeans darkening with wetness.

The two of you played in the shallow water for a while, throwing splashes at each other and squealing everytime the bitter water touched your sun warmed skin.

Eventually the childish play tired you out and you were sat against a log a bit aways from the water, watching the sun set behind the ocean and covering your feet with the chilled sand.

A noise behind you caused you to turn your head, frowning deeply when you saw Jake kneeled in the sand with a camera in front of his face. The same noise went off again and you threw sand in his direction.

“Stop that.” You groaned and he laughed, dodging the attack and falling back onto his butt next to you by the log.

“Sorry sorry. I’ve just never seen you like this before.”

im just trying to understand what i am to you

“What do you mean?” You squinted your eyes in his direction but he wasn’t looking at you, keeping his gaze on the setting sun or down at his fingers that were pushing through the sand.

“You were always too cool to hang out with us at places like this.” He laughed softly but you felt a strange tension settled in his words like he was thinking of something specific.

Your stomach turned in confusion at what he was saying and you felt the need to question him, swallowing it when he made eye contact with you again and smiled softly. It didn’t meet his eyes and you titled your head slightly.

“I’d say it was the other way around.” You managed to say, trying to keep your tone light despite the meaning behind your words. In your version of events it was definitely Jake who had never been around in high school, always off with cooler older kids.

He’d always been more liked than the rest of your friend group but it escalated after his final prom when his presence pretty much became nonexistent up until he moved for college.

He was watching you and not saying anything and you were starting to curl in on yourself a bit self consciously. You reached up your arm to tug on your shirt sleeve and his eyes followed the movement.

“You’re cold?” He was asking but before he even finished the sentence he was sitting up off the log and pulling his sweater over his head, handing it in your direction as he fell back against the log. You stared at it as it dangled in his grip and he shook it a few times to get your attention.

You took it from him hesitantly, fingers brushing against his and he watched closely as you pulled it over your eyes and tugged your hair from the collar.

His eyes were seemingly tracing shapes on your frame as he looked at you, a strange expression on his face at the sight of you in his clothing.

“Why are you always staring like that?” You mumbled under your breath, shifting uncomfortably and he shrugged.

“You’re pretty.” He answered simply like it was the most obvious answer in the history of the world and your mouth parted in surprise. He’d said it before, but it sounded different when it wasn’t being whispered in a damp crowded room.

You felt your cheeks flush again but this time you didn’t attempt to hide your reaction. Despite the major differences, you needed to remind yourself that this was Jake, a boy you knew and cared about before you ever had this crush on him.

more than songs, we’ve exchanged. midnight calls, sunset views

He was still watching you, you could see him from the corner of your eye and you were half tempted to turn and meet his gaze. A few beats of silence, accompanied by the sound of the waves, and you succumbed to that temptation.

He didn’t falter when you looked over, only cocking his head slightly like he was expecting you to say something. However you didn’t and you just looked at him the way he was looking at you, in a heavy tensioned silence that made your stomach turn in dizzying circles.

Jake was always handsome, even before he had gotten older and his features were still soft and not yet matured, but he was particularly remarkable right now in the soft blue lighting of the nearly set sun.

“You should let your hair grow out.”

——

The days were passing by quickly now and fall break was swiftly approaching. You had no plans to go back home to your small town and neither did Brit. Currently she was packing hastily, not sparing you a glance as you laid on her bed and watched her fast pace.

“We leave in only two hours you know.” She was remarking and you shrugged softly, hiding a smile at her impatience. “I’m happy you’ve even agreed to this so I’m not going to nag you anymore than I need to but we are really short on time.”

She was referring to the fact she had somehow managed to convince you that going along to one final friend camping trip was what you should do with your break. Not only was it colder than you’d prefer, especially the night time, but others were also going and you weren’t big on social interaction.

Still you had agreed, and if part of the reason had been because Jake posted he was also going on his story than she didn’t need to know that.

After she had forced you to pack, and then ushered you out of the apartment with a swift shove and irritated eyebrows, you were eventually stuffed in the back seat of Sunghoon’s rented van. It was bigger than an average car but the more stops you arrived to the more you dreaded the drive.

As if things couldn’t get more stressful, right when you had thought you’d gotten away with an empty seat next to you he was pulling up to the final house. You watched as Jake closed his door behind him with an excited grin and waved at Sunghoon who was leaning out his open window.

You still didn’t stop staring even after he shoved his suitcase into the trunk and circled around the van, pulling open the slider door and scanning the vehicle for a spot to sit. His gaze first fell on the seat next to you and then scanned up to your face.

His smile faltered for just a second before it was replaced with another one, this one somehow both more genuine and two times as tense.

You hadn’t talked much since the other day at the beach due to the fact he hadn’t bothered texting you. You weren’t too caught up with the fact knowing you’d see eachother soon anyways but you were feeling a bit confused on the meaning of the hangout.

Your headphones stayed in as he walked with a ducked head to the back of the van, ignoring the glare Yang Jungwon was sending him when he accidentally stepped on his foot. You paused your music as he sat next to you but you didn’t take them off your head.

After he was seated, the van was officially full. Sunghoon and Brit were taking the roles of driver and passenger with Jungwon, Park Jay and a boy you hadn’t met before named Riki directly behind them. That left you and Jake in the back sat next to some of the bags that hadn’t fit in the trunk.

Another car was coming later in the day with some more friends of Brit and Sunghoon, the more social of the group.

Your phone vibrating in your grip stopped you in your mental roll call and you furrowed your brows down at it, ignoring the buzz. That plan didn’t last long considering it buzzed two more times immediately after.

jake : hi

jake : you have a habit of ignoring me i think

jake : !!!

You let out a small laugh and your eyes shot to the side, expecting to see him already looking at you and preparing to speak. Instead he was leaning away and keeping his gaze firmly out the window, a tight grip on his phone.

you : are we playing the silent game?

jake : yes

jake : i didn’t take you for the camping type… did anything inspire you to come along?

You looked at him again and this time he was looking at you too, an eyebrow raising slightly in question as he glanced down at your phone screen. You thought for a second before responding.

you : i could ask you the same thing

you : if my memories correct i distinctively remember you whining the whole entire week during that field trip sophomore year

jake : i don’t whine

You snorted a laugh and you felt Jake’s elbow poke your side in annoyance. You nudged him back and he pretended to be wounded, leaning against you so your shoulders were pressed tightly together. Brit’s eyes met yours in the mirror for just a split second before looking away.

jake : maybe i had my reasons

Then his hand was falling forward onto your knee and you stiffened up at the sudden contact. Your reaction caused him to freeze too and he started to quickly retract his hand, stopping when you placed yours on top of his and kept it where it was.

You were suddenly hyper aware of how close the two of you were and also the fact you had chosen to wear the most hideous pajamas pants you owned. Jake didn’t seem to mind, his thumb caressing the soft fabric without realizing he was making your head spin.

You squeezed your hand that was on top of his and he leaned forward to look at you, head resting against the seat infront of him as he turned his body slightly to face you. His hand was shifting up your leg slightly and you held his gaze, an eyebrow raising in permission.

Without hesitation, you gave it to him, nodding and loosening your grip on his hand. Your hand slid to his wrist instead, not wanting to remove it from his warm skin and you felt his arm muscles tensing like he was applying effort to resist moving his hand more.

Your knee was swinging towards his instinctively and his eyes shot down to the way this caused your legs to part more.

Then his stare was back on yours, eyes heavier as he watched you. For a second you thought he seemed nervous, gaze fidgeting against yours.

Your phone buzzed again and you glanced at his free hand in confusion, eyebrows furrowing when you realized his phone was shut off and laying forgotten in his lap so it couldn’t have been him that messaged you.

brit : what are you doing back there

You met her gaze in the mirror expecting to see a teasing smirk or maybe proud eyes at the fact you weren’t losing your cool due to Jake flirting with you. Instead her eyes were dark and squinted in warning. She picked her phone back up off her lap.

brit : jake invited a girl this weekend

brit : sunghoon told me im rlly sorry yn i was going to mention it when we got there

Your entire body locked up and Jake’s thumb stopped caressing your thigh in worry, leaning back against his seat to try to look at your phone screen to see the cause of your sudden tension. You quickly shut it off and shifted in your seat, swinging your knee so his hand fell limp against the seat. You leaned against your side of the seat, frowning and looking out the window.

You stayed like that for the rest of the ride, ignoring your phone buzzing in your hand and a few attempts to get your attention from the boy next to you.

Once you’d finally arrived at the campsite you were the first one to leave the van, nearly tripping on Jay in your haste to be out of the suffocating situation.

Hands on your lower back were suddenly leading you away and towards the empty site kicking your feet out of their frozen state, you glanced at Brit as she ushered you away from the boys, telling them briefly you were going to set up your tent in the distance.

You were thankful for her quick lie and the comforting arm she was wrapping around your side as you walked away from them, ignoring their confused murmurs.

“Are you going to cry.” She whispered once you were a good distance out of ear shot, you met her eyes and she winced. “Or maybe throw up? I can’t tell…”

You shook your head and glanced behind you. Jake was frozen as he watched the two of you with a worried frown, only looking away when Jungwon abruptly handed him a few bags to unpack.

“Neither.” You forced out and she looked relieved but like she didn’t even slightly believe you. “I don’t care who he brings.” You shrugged and nodded to try to convince yourself.

She watched you in silence, leaning back slightly like you were a live wire as she waited for you to snap.

“But tell me who he is bringing.” You gripped her hand tightly and she groaned in relief at your more expected reaction, squeezing your hand in hers and taking a step closer.

“I don’t even know just some girl from one of his lectures I guess.” She was whispering close to your face and your heart sank. “Sunghoon said she practically forced him to say she could come but you know he has a reputation.”

And she was right, you did know that this new version of Jake had quite a few whispers about him and how frequently he’d leave parties with girls he’d never be seen with again. You felt foolish for letting yourself separate this side of him with the boy from the beach.

Maybe the boy from a few years ago was worse with girls, cared about them more and awkwardly stumbled through flirty conversations or teasing comments but it seemed like this new Jake was the type to not think too deeply about feeling up an old friend in a packed car.

One half of you wanted to not care, happy he had paid you any attention at all even if it wasn’t ideal but the more realistic half knew you could never be casual with Jake without breaking your own heart.

“I’ll be fine don’t worry.”

——

You were absolutely positively NOT fine.

After setting up quickly before the sun set, the second car had arrived with the rest of the people you’d be camping alongside of and you were quickly regretting your last minute acceptance to come along.

A few slightly familiar faces had stumbled out of the car, like Sunoo from your history class who had waved with a yawn followed by a bright smile. He was immediately replaced in your line of sight by none other than Lee Heeseung, who froze at the sight of you and then practically scampered away.

And finally a girl you hadn’t seen before, and who hadn’t bothered to introduce herself. The girl was currently on the receiving end of your glare, across from you at the fire as she leaned over and whispered something lowly to Jake in the chair next to her.

You hoped the flames were blocking the obvious annoyance on your face, her high pitched squeals and refusal to do any of the work setting up required was slowly eating away at you. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact she spent most the day draped over the boy you’d been infatuated with since before puberty.

Only adding to your growing frustration was the tense awkward boy beside you. Heeseung was practically curled into a ball in his camping chair, avoiding eye contact with your side of the earth and not speaking the entire fire. You were sick of it at this point and the combined anger at both situations got the better of you.

“Can we talk?” You were leaning over towards him to ask and your tone was heavy. He reluctantly looked at you and his eyes softened with guilt before he nodded.

Standing from your chair and wrapping your coat tighter around you, your gaze instinctively went to Jake. He was already watching you, eyebrows furrowing as he saw Heeseung stand and wait for you to leave so he could follow. You looked away from him in anger and started off towards the trees.

“Are you going to kill me be honest.” Heeseung eventually was groaning behind you as you walked in silence, cutting through the trail as you ended up near the dock.

“Why would I kill you?” You sighed and sat on the creaking wood, feet dangling and skimming the water of the green lake. He followed suit and sat a few inches away from you.

“For being a dick.” He shrugged and you laughed, kissing your teeth and nodding. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have not showed up without a text like that, regardless what Jake said.”

His words caused you to freeze in confusion and he seemed to notice your reaction, mouth parting in realization.

“You didn’t know…” He sounded both confused and like he had finally made sense of things in his mind. “Now I get why Brit keeps glaring at me in the hall.”

“What are you talking about Lee Heeseung?” You turned more towards him with sharp eyes and he shrunk in on himself slightly.

“I told Jake about our date and he told me I shouldn’t go because you had a boyfriend back home.” He was speaking fast and his eyes softened again at the hurt and confusion crossing your face. “I’m figuring now that probably isn’t true.”

You didn’t give him a response, staring down at his lap as you zoned out and tried to understand what he was telling you. Jake had not only sabotaged your date not date that apparently was a date but in doing so he made you seem like some awful cheater.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung was speaking again when you didn’t respond, leaning closer slightly and talking in a whisper like he was scared to break you from your trance. You looked at him hesitantly and his features softened at your teary expression. “I can go get Brit?”

You nodded in confirmation and offered him a small sad smile, hoping he got the memo that it wasn’t him you were upset with and you understood he had been caught in the miscommunication. He was patting your back softly before standing and jogging back towards the camp.

promise i don’t mean to cry but i get overwhelmed and confused

Sitting alone on the dock you allowed yourself to cry for just a few moments, you felt completely lost and confused. That mixed with the anger and jealously you’d felt all day and you were simply a mess of overstimulated emotions.

You didn’t understand why Jake would do that, what motive he would have. Maybe revenge for Heeseung interrupting his chance of a quick fuck the night before but you liked to believe that even if he changed, he still respected you enough to not spread rumors.

After ten minutes had passed your tears had slowed do a few sniffles and puffy eyes, using your thin sweater sleeves to wipe your face in preparation for your roommates arrival. You didn’t want to ruin the weekend by being overtly upset.

“Y/N?” The sound of the familiar voice caused you to freeze like it always did. Your shoulders tensed and you felt your fingers flex against the moist wood of the dock. The footsteps stepping onto the dock gave you a sick feeling.

“What do you want Sim?” You spit the words without turning to look at him and you shut your eyes tight when his hasty steps slowed with hesitation.

“I came to check on you… Heeseung went to get Brit but she wasn’t feeling well and went to sleep.” He was speaking slowly, getting closer but stopping a bit behind you like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to come closer. “Did he say something to you? What did he do?”

Now you were turning to glare at him, only briefly scanning his figure to see him wringing his hands together in anxiousness. “What did he do? What do you mean what did he do…what did you do?”

He didn’t even have the nerve to pretend to look confused, only being taken back for a second at your tone before a guilty dark look took over his expression.

“Okay listen, I had a reason.” He was holding his hands out in front of him in defense, eyebrows downturned. For just a second you felt bad at the way he frowned and then you remembered your anger.

You stood from the dock, turning your back on the water to face him. He seemed more taken back by this, your stance rigid and expecting. You raised an eyebrow at him and waved a hand to signal for him to continue.

His gaze dropped to his feet and then back up towards you, avoiding meeting your eyes and nervously wringing his hands together. “Okay maybe I don’t have a reason.”

Your shoulders deflated and you groaned.

“So you just made me look like an idiot for no reason.” You spat at him and he shook his head as you kept talking. “Not only an idiot but like some sketchy cheater.”

“I didn’t mean for it to be like that I just panicked.” He was rushing in his words and you were growing more confused with everything he said. Why did the idea of Heeseung taking you on a date make him panic?

“I deserve a better explanation than that Jake.” You were shaking your head now and he sighed. “I thought we were starting to be… I don’t know, friends.”

“Oh really?” He was sneering now and you faltered slightly, taken back by his sudden show of anger. “So now I’m cool enough to be friends with?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You took a step towards him, your voice desperate in confusion.

“No don’t worry I get. Years of acting like I didn’t exist but now that I’m not a loser anymore I’m worthy of your time.” His voice was venomous and your head was swimming with confusion.

The incredulous look on your face only seemed to anger him further, neck vein protruding as he glared at you. He was holding your stare and softened just for a second at the genuine lack of understanding on your face.

“Are you talking about highschool?” You tried to keep your voice steady, wanting to understand what he was referring to without angering him. He gave you a look like it was obvious and you shook your head. “That’s not what happened at all, if anything it was the opposite.”

At this, he let out a loud scoff and took a step backwards in bewilderment. You watched him wrestle with this information, at the same time you were wracking through your memories with Jake to try and find what point in time he was referring back to.

You’d never thought of Jake as a loser, sure a little clumsy and awkward but that was the first thing you had liked about him. It wasn’t easy for you to spend time with him alone because you’d always end up embarrassing yourself, your crush on him bringing out the worst in you, but you definitely still hung out from time to time.

“You totally rejected me.” He was speaking again, his voice weaker this time as the embarrassment replaced his anger. “You not even remembering the worst day of my highschool life makes it ten times more awful.”

“Rejected you when?” Your head was starting to hurt from the crying and pure confusion. As awkward as you were around him, you know even highschool you would never have rejected Jake Sim.

“Prom.” He spat the word like it was obvious, like he was expecting you to suddenly remember your supposed rejection and make sense of this conversation but if anything it was only confusing you further. “You really just don’t remember?”

“There’s nothing to remember.” You spat out, angry at his persistent accusations. “I didn’t go to prom either year, you went with Lily and I stayed at home.”

Your stomach was turning with bitterness at the memory, this fact followed by his sudden avoidance after prom still hurt as it lingered in your mind.

“You think I wanted to go with Lily?” His laugh was humorless and cold. “Everybody knew I wanted to go with you only, I couldn’t not go just because you said no, I’d look like a total idiot.”

“Then why wouldn’t you just ask me?” Your voice was hoarse and angry but your stomach was turning at the thought of Jake wanting to go to prom with you.

You remember that year clearly, it was Jake’s final school dance and your friends had jokingly teased the possibility of him asking you. Of course at the time it seemed baseless to you, you were just friends since you’d never had the courage to put your feelings to action.

Like you had anticipated, a girl from your grade named Lily was posting the next week that she had been asked by Jake and they were going together. Even though you’d accepted long ago he’d never notice you in that way, you were still devastated and decided to spend this year at home alone.

“I did ask you.” He was stressing the words, hands thrown out in desperation for you to understand. You tensed up as you looked at him.

You started to slowly shake your head in denial and his shoulders lowered, coming to a realization.

“You never got the letter.” It wasn’t a question but a statement and the look on your face further proved it to be true. “I… I put it in your locker I don’t understand.”

“My locker?” Your voice was soft with exhaustion and a guilty look crossed his face.

“Two weeks before the dance.” He explained and he was taking a step towards you. He looked slightly relieved when you didn’t back away from him or raise your hands in rejection.

You scrunched your nose and tried to remember such a specific time in your life, only remembering one major detail that caused your face to light up in realization.

“Jake.” You groaned and he raised an eyebrow and nodded in anticipation. “Jake I had that nasty stomach flu everybody was getting. I was absent until after winter break.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time and you watched him go through different stages of remembrance, the noise of the woods and lake fading back in now that your shouts had died down.

“You never got it?” His voice was barely a whisper, almost like it wasn’t even meant for you to hear. It was a personal realization of his mistake and you reached a hand up to tug on his sleeve. His eyes shot down to your hand and then your face, eyes heavy and guilty.

if only you knew what i felt like

“Why on earth would I reject you.” You tried to keep your voice soft but it was shaking slightly with nerves as you finally voiced your longest kept secret. “Everybody knew how obsessed with you I was.”

“But I was a total idiot.” He shook his head and you took a step closer to him. “I spent so long trying to become cooler and you’re telling me it was pointless?”

He was looking down at you, in a similar stance to the multiple times you held long tensioned stares at parties and you were understanding now that similar to your casual careless persona you’d been attempting to show him, he was wearing a mask of his own.

“I liked that idiot way before I liked you, playboy.” He smiled at your light tone, arm sliding up your arm to hold your elbow and keep you standing close to him.

“Maybe I stretched the truth a tad.” His voice was low and you raised an eyebrow as you looked up at him, liking the way his bangs touched his eyebrows as he watched you.

“What about that girl you invited?” Your smile faltered slightly, remembering why you were out here on the dock in the first place. Your stomach tightened in jealously and you felt the urge to smack away his hand that was sliding to hold your lower back.

You resisted the urge, placing your hands flat on his chest and giving him the chance to explain. Miscommunication was clearly causing issues for years between the two of you.

“She practically forced her way into the van after overhearing us talk about it at a party last weekend.” He was explaining with an annoyed shake of his head and you nodded remembering Brit saying Sunghoon had a similar version of events.

“I shouldn’t have let her touch me.” He looked angry at himself and you wanted to reach up and smooth out the crease in his eyebrows. “I guess I got jealous seeing Heeseung was here. The same way I did when I ruined your date. I’m really sorry about that.”

“So instead of just asking me out yourself, you kidnapped me and took me to a beach?” You smiled softly at him and his lip quirked up slightly despite the look of guilt remaining.

“I know… I guess I’m still an idiot.” His smile fell and a pained look covered quickly his expression. “God, I made you cry.”

“Yeah you totally made me cry.” You balled your into fist against his chest and his eyes looked at the way his shirt scrunched up between your fingers. You gave him a soft smile, rocking forward and trying to ease his mind from the guilt he was feeling.

Then he was looking at you again and his tensioned eyes loosened slightly, a sudden wave of nerves washed over you at the realization of who you were currently having this conversation with.

“Did I hear you say you still liked me?” His voice was low and you felt his breath fan your face, his hand that wasn’t on your back was cupping the side of your face and making you look at him.

You were reminded of the way he held your chin at the party except this time it felt more gentle, his eyes soft and far more nervous than they had been that night.

“God, you’re an idiot.” You were shaking your head and smiling, the end of your word being cut off when he surged forward and pressed his lips hard against yours in his urgency.

Your hands on his chest started to ball up his shirt again, resisting a laugh at the force in which he kissed you, he mumbled an apology against your lips and you could feel him smiling as he cocked his head and kissed you again.

His hand had left your cheek, circling around your side to rest on your lower back with his other one as he, almost unconsciously, pulled you up and tighter against him as you rocked onto your tippy toes and back down.

Even when he pulled back to breathe, he kept you flush against him as he laid his forehead against yours and shut his eyes tight.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #jake enhypen #jake x reader #sunghoon enhypen #heeseung #kim sunoo #jake fluff #jake drabbles #jake au #jake smut

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chadillacboseman · 9 months

Text

Pairing: Phillip Graves x GN!Reader (no actual pairing between them tho) Word Count: Idk man. Like 1.5k. Warnings: Graves being pathetic, masturbation, pillow humping, reader is in a relationship with Alejandro. Summary: The MW2 timeline is fluid, and brother, I'm hooked up to an IV. Graves is in Las Almas with 141 and Los Vaqueros, sharing space with them as the hunt for Hassan continues. There's only one thing he wants while he's there. You.

Phillip Graves isn't used to not getting what he wants.

Contractor money can buy almost anything, can sway almost anyone. Being denied isn't really in the handbook.

The first time Graves laid eyes on you, he knew he had to have you. You were bent low over a map, contemplating alongside Rudy and Alejandro.

You took his fucking breath away.

Graves and his Shadows have been with the 141 and Los Vaqueros for weeks now, searching for Hassan and the missiles with no progress. No end in sight.

He's done his yelling at Shepherd, spent countless hours on the phone begging for a way out of the contract or a base of his own in Las Almas.

"What is the problem, Graves?" Shepherd is frustrated, taking his call in between meetings and debriefs, "Can I not count on you to get this done?"

"Sir-" Graves is flustered, pacing the hallway outside the base's shop, "Their base isn't equipped-"

"Get the job done, Graves, and don't call me until you do!"

The line goes dead.

"Shepherd giving you a hard time?" you're leaning against the wall, your head cocked to the side as you observe him.

"You could say that," Graves shoves the phone back in his pocket and avoids your gaze.

Alejandro stuck Graves with you when he first arrived, tasking you with giving him a tour of the base and getting him familiar with the operations. You were radiant, effortlessly funny and undaunted by his power or his position.

The obsession is insidious, starting slowly, with Graves missing the sound of your voice or the way you smelled when you weren't around. He finds himself making excuses to be close to you, to take details that have the two of you alone.

He tries to hide it, tries so desperately to make sure no one notices the way he trails after you and stares at you with wide, pleading eyes whenever you speak.

Graves wants to have you so badly it hurts.

But he can't.

You're Alejandro's, and he makes that abundantly clear at every turn. He always keeps a protective hand on you, steals small kisses from you when he thinks no one is looking.

Oh, how Graves despises the Vaquero. He wants to see him bleed. To see him crumpled in a heap on the floor of some jail cell he'll never escape.

For now, he settles for watching from the shadows, pining like some lovesick schoolboy as he watches Alejandro enjoy what should be his.

He imagines what you must feel like, what you must taste like; he thinks of how soft your hair would be, splayed out over his pillow, his name tumbling from your lips like a prayer.

The need burns hot in Graves' chest, pooling and dark, so strong that it scares him. He's never wanted anything so badly in his life, never felt the hopeless, burning and inescapable jealousy he feels now.

He finds himself avoiding you. Avoiding your sun-bright eyes and infectious laugh. When you approach him, he turns heel and flees like a coward.

You notice. Of course you do. You're so fucking smart. Too smart for Alejandro, that brainless lout.

Graves takes to hiding in a server room at the base, some hole in the wall full of wires and blinking lights. It's loud, hot, and stifling, but it's mercifully free of you.

Until it isn't.

"Phillip, what the hell is going on with you?"

Your voice jolts him from his work, and he nearly sends his laptop clattering to the floor.

Phillip. No one ever calls him that- just you. It sends a burning, sizzling, hot lead of high voltage straight through his chest that makes his ears flush red.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Graves nearly has to spit it through his clenched teeth. He's a shitty liar, he knows it and you know it too. It's the reason he never joins in on poker nights with the 141.

"You're avoiding me," there's resentment and accusation in your voice, but there's something else too, something that makes his heart drop. Sadness.

Graves has been avoiding you. Even being in your presence makes him feel like he's losing control. Seeing Alejandro steal little touches, hearing the way you laugh when he whispers something in Spanish. It drives him mad.

"I have work to do, princess," he tries to soften the edge in his voice, but it doesn't work- the cutesy nickname instead feels like an insult lobbed at you.

You open and close your mouth a few times, processing what he's just said to you. You look hurt and he's spiraling. He wants to jump to his feet and cup your chin, to tell you to run away with him. Run back to the States and leave this shithole behind.

"Fuck you, Graves," you turn on your heel and disappear from the doorway. The use of his last name stings- it takes everything in his power to not race after you, to apologize and beg for your forgiveness.

It's your turn to avoid him now. Graves expects relief, but he doesn't get it. You're so deeply embedded in his brain that he can't seem to shake himself out of his obsession.

He wants to apologize- no, he needs to apologize to you. You're hard to find, though. Making yourself scarce in areas you know he'd be in. Maybe you won't forgive him. Maybe you'll tell him to fuck off and that will be enough to snap him out of it.

Graves finally finds you in the shop. It's late, later than you have any business being there. Alejandro went off-base hours ago.

"Hey-" his voice sounds small and threatens to crack, dropping like a dead weight in the tense air.

You don't look up from what you're working on, merely offering him an almost imperceptible nod to acknowledge his presence.

"What do you want, Graves?"

To apologize. To tell you the truth. To pin you to the wall and-

"If you haven't got anything to say to me, then please leave me alone," you sound annoyed, but there's something else to it. You don't want him to leave, but he doesn't know that.

"Look, I'm..." he trails off, the words aren't coming out. It's like they're stuck just behind his tongue. Suddenly, he's fifteen again, stuttering in front of the third new classmates he's had that year.

"I'm sorry," the apology finally falls out of his mouth, almost as one word in his hurry to say it, "For the other day."

You finally look up at him, and he feels his heart leap into his throat. In the dim light of the shop, your features are even more striking. Your eyes glimmer under the yellow incandescent bulbs, and there's a smudge of grease on your cheek.

God, how he wants to reach out and swipe his thumb across your skin.

"Phillip," there it is again. It makes his heart hammer against his rib cage, "What's going on with you?"

He could tell you the truth. Maybe a slap across the face would change his opinion of you-

"Phil?" you reach out and tap gently on his vest, rapping your fingertips against the flag badge that adorns it, "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Just say it. Say it! SAY IT!

Your phone rings and Graves jumps, his confession coming to a stop just behind his teeth. He glimpses the contact name on the screen and feels his nerves be replaced with a wave of jealousy.

Alejandro.

Your conversation with him is a blur, Graves catches words here and there, "soon" "in the shop" "I'd love that".

"Phil, we'll continue this conversation tomorrow, okay?" you cock your head and try to read his expression to no avail.

"Sure," he swallows, hard, and watches as you walk away.

While the others are crammed together at the base, Graves is in private lodging, paid for on Shadow Company's dime. He tosses his bags to the floor and sheds his tactical vest, letting it drop haphazardly in a heap by the door.

The shower is calling his name, but he doesn't have the energy to do it, instead dropping onto the bed and cradling his head in his hands. There's no telling how long this assignment is going to last, how long he'll have to contend with his feelings and try not to make a fool of himself.

Graves thinks of your face, of the way you had looked up at him in the shop. You'd look so good with your lips wrapped around his cock, staring up at him with those beautiful fucking eyes of yours.

He groans, feeling the familiar tightness at his zipper, almost painful until he frees himself with a hiss.

"Fuck-" Graves grazes his fingertips over his length, pausing at the tip to swipe the pad of his thumb over the beads of precum collecting there.

He moans your name, hips bucking into the friction of his own hand, his mind conjuring up all the ways he would fuck you; all the ways he would make you his.

His hand isn't enough.

Graves rolls onto his stomach, the waistline of his jeans just low enough to expose him entirely. He grasps desperately, hands fumbling until he finds a pillow and jams it roughly between himself and the bed.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," it's not you, it's not the same, but the sensation is enough for now.

Graves grinds himself so lewdly he should be embarrassed, humping his pillow like a horny teenager, thinking of you. He moans loudly, the sound echoing in the empty room, as he ruts into the fabric like an animal.

He thinks of you. Of your scent, your smile, the way you say his name. He'd give anything to hear you cry it out while pinned beneath him, to have you come undone entirely because of him.

Graves braces his hand on the mattress, panting as he fucks into the fabric, his hips rolling in rhythmic thrusts as he chases his peak.

"So good," he's babbling now, his mind racing to envision you taking his cock, tight and fucking perfect, "m'gonna- gonna cum-"

Graves tumbles over the edge, crying out your name as he spills hot spurts of cum onto the pillow; his hips stutter out one final thrust until he's spent, panting into the mattress in the pressing quiet of his hotel room.

Graves rolls over, laying an arm over his chest as he tries to catch his breath. He stares at the ceiling, trying to imagine what it must be like to have you in an intimate moment like this, to have you soaked in sweat and curled into his embrace.

He tries to make peace with never knowing.

#phillip graves x reader #ns/fw #phillip graves #cod mw2 #holy shit did i write something???

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universal-imagines · 1 year

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✎ ﹝ genshin boys in a college au ﹞

i. zhongli

what better role than that of the young new professor everyone is fussing over?

he carries himself like someone well beyond his years and speaks as if he’s walked the earth for a millennia. his knowledge is extensive and doesn’t just revolve around the subject he teaches, history. he is well-versed in ancient literature, poetry, and is fluent in several languages. it’s no wonder everyone is dying to meet him and have a profound conversation with him.

even you find him intriguing and can’t help but gravitate towards him when you’re both in the breakroom, but you’re determined to find the one thing you know better than him. so far you’ve failed in brewing a better cup of tea than him, knowing how to bind a book (even making the pages from scratch), knowing calligraphy, and picking a lock faster (why does he even need that skill? you’re sure anyone would let him into their home even on a first meeting, probably even give him the codes to all their safes)

tags + notes: professor!zhongli x professor!reader, rivals (one-sided) to lovers, lots of long-winded explanations and awkward encounters in the breakroom

ii. childe

surprisingly he’s the insufferable TA that zhongli handpicked himself. how he thought that guy was the best option when there’s obviously thoma that everyone loves is beyond you. but you have to admit he has a way with words, which is probably why the professor picked him. he could get anyone interested in just about any subject, even a “boring” one like history. and that’s not just a personal opinion either, many students have admitted that the only reason they decided to take the class was because he convinced them.

however, there’s also this weird aura about him. it feels intimidating for some reason, but you can’t quite put your finger on why... and some of your classmates have mentioned being afraid of missing an assignment cause of him. but he seems like a cool guy from your experience, just a little annoying if anything

tags + notes: ta!childe x student!reader, popular x reserved, golden retriever energy x cat energy, endless amount of bickering, childe is always messing with the reader and trying to distract them (all in hopes of getting them to ask him for help after class)

iii. diluc

the first time you saw the redhead wasn’t in class, even though a couple of days later you realized he sat right behind you. in your defense, it’s not like you’re looking behind you during class, but you figure you would have seen him walk into class at least once before. but no, you first saw him at the local bar, he was standing behind the counter with his hair up in a high ponytail. if you were being completely honest, that’s probably why you noticed him there and not in class. in class he wears it in a low and lose ponytail. it doesn’t compliment him at all, but who were you to judge his morning routine.

he’s also a completely different person when he’s not at the bar. in class he’s so serious and keeps to himself, another reason why you probably never noticed him. even at the bar he’s somewhat serious, but at least he offers more than a dry “good morning” there. you’ve even gotten a smile

tags + notes: grumpy x sunshine, forced proximity (they have to work on project together which means meeting up a lot and possibly going to each other’s places), slow burn

iv. kazuha

you’d heard word of that cute boy that performed with his band at the local bar and had caught a glimpse of him once or twice there when visiting your friend diluc. but you never imagined he was the boy you stared at in class, and not cause you thought he was cute or anything you did, it’s just that you always saw him staring out the window, like he longed to be a bird so he could ride the wind and travel to some far off land. other times you’d catch him flipping through a notebook quickly jotting something down, probably lyrics now that you thought about it, and you found it intriguing.

now that you knew he was in a band maybe you could approach him and ask him about it, he seemed friendly enough

tags + notes: band member!kazuha x admirer!reader, reader falls first but kazuha falls harder, he doesn’t realize that all this time he’s been slowly falling for the reader until it hits him like a train and he can’t hide it any longer

v. thoma

thoma is the perfect student. every professor is always speaking highly of him and using him as an example for those that comes after. and yet it’s hard to hate or envy, someone who is willing to let you borrow his notes. in fact, he offers them to you when he notices you’re struggling with a topic. they’re so neat too, color coded and everything. never in your life had notes made more sense to you than the actual professor.

if you weren’t aware of his culinary arts major, you’d have assumed he was studying to be a professor of some kind. helping others came so naturally to him, but so did cooking. there had been plenty of time when he’d brought snacks for the class just cause he felt like it and they were delicious. no wonder the professors loved him, he motivated the class for them

tags + notes: friends to lovers, cuteness overload that’s pretty much it, just lots and lots of fluff

vi. xiao

if it wasn’t because he is literally the quietest person you’ve ever met, you probably would have never noticed xiao in his corner. at first you thought it was because he hated being around people, one of those extremely anti-social people, but you’ve come to realize he is just shy. not the type to fumble over his words, just not the type to initiate a conversation. once you get him talking he’s alright though. still a little awkward with his one word replies, but he’s not a bad guy.

it took you a while to get him to warm up to you, but now it’s like you took in an injured puppy. he even stopped sitting at the very back corner and now comes to sit next to you. the others took it as a free invitation to start talking to him, but he just gives them polite nods and glances their way occasionally. you wonder if it’s because it takes him a while to trust other people

tags + notes: mututal pining, special treatment (you’re the only one that gets to see the talkative side of him and vulnerable), angst (because he’d still have a sad backstory in this au), but it would eventually have lots of fluff

vii. itto

he’s the completely opposite of xiao. while xiao stand outs because he’s so quiet and mysterious, itto stands out cause it’s impossible for him not to. no ones needs to ask him what he’s doing for the day cause everyone can hear him talking about it in the halls. it’s actually surprising just how loud he can be, but that’s the best part of him. he isn’t afraid of putting himself out there. he’s also an overall great guy, whenever he spots someone being left out he’ll include them in the conversation. he does the same for his football games too, invites everyone and gets them cheering even if they don’t care for the sport and makes friends with the opposing team. there have been plenty of time when both teams go out to eat together after the game because of him, regardless of who won or lost.

but his one fault is that he’s not exactly the brightest. everyone loves him, but the professors can only let him off the hook so many times before his grades start suffering...

tags + notes: jock!itto x nerd!reader/tutor!reader, cute moments where the reader patches itto up after a game, that “oh” moment from the reader as they watch itto running on the field, and the “oh” moment from itto as he watches the reader cheer from the stands feeling like he can run on forever

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brewsterispunkk · 8 months

Text

angel of small death

pairing: joel miller x reader, joel miller x f!reader

WC: 7k

prompts used: “I got shot and I’m fine! Relax, would you?” “The price of my affection is high.” tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity

summary: It's bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet

a/n: this is my submission for @pedrostories 1,000 follower celebration! as @stompandhollar can attest, I freaked out when I was tagged in this. I’m so excited to share this with you!!

warnings: explicit! 18+! gore, smut, enemies to lovers, mean!joel, unspecified age gap, dirty talk, dear-death experience

angel of small death

- -

You’re sure there was a time that he cared about something—someone. But now, as you watch Joel mercilessly beating someone's head in with a baseball bat, you’re sure that none of that man is left.

It had been raiders. A band of less than ten of them that had picked up on your trail about twenty miles out of Milwaukee. And, of course, you hadn’t picked up on any of the signs before they attacked. And Joel is pissed.

You can already tell, and he hasn’t even stopped killing.

You stumble back a step, dropping the piece of metal that you used to fell one of the raiders that lay dead at your feet. You heave, catching your breath, and lean forward on your bent knees. Thick, crimson blood flows like ink on the linoleum tiles under your feet. You feel your stomach turn.

No matter how many times you have to do it, killing never gets easier for you.

It had been Joel’s idea to pick-over the hospital, not yours. In fact, you had been vehemently against it.

Joel had assured you though that there were no clickers. That five years earlier, when he’d lived in the Milwaukee QZ, they had gassed the place in fear of having a horde so close. Little did you know, it wasn’t clickers you needed to worry about.

But still, you need any medicine you can get.

You cough, the irony scent of blood thick in the air, as Joel finally takes a step back from the bludgeoned man dead on the floor. He drops the metal bat with a clang.

Joel breathes heavily and runs the back of his forearm over his glistening forehead. He’s wearing a T-Shirt despite the coolness of the mid-spring weather, his jacket packed away in the pack he’d dropped at the door of the small lobby when the raiders had attacked.

He looks down at the man in front of him, checking for any signs of life, before nodding in approval when he finds none.

Your sigh catches in your throat when his hard gaze turns to you.

“The hell was that?”

You gulp.

“I–”

“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice is like gravel, his volume low. Joel is pissed.

When he yells was one thing; but when he’s quiet, that’s when you know he’s really, truly upset.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“What did I tell you about checking all the passageways?” He puts his hands on his hips. “You almost got us killed.”

“I did my job!” You burst, white-hot anger flaring inside you. You’re tired of him speaking to you like you you’re a child.

“Yeah, alright,” Joel shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

God, he can be such a teenager.

“There was no one there when I did my checks!” You argue.

“Then you didn’t look hard enough.”

You scoff.

“Mistakes like this cost lives, sweetheart,” he says, voice dripping in condescension. “So–”

“Oh that is rich,” you kick the metal pole—what you’re sure used to be a part of an IV drip—across the room toward him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Joel’s eyes narrow.

“If you have such a problem with how I do my drills, maybe you could, I don’t know, teach me how the hell these assholes operate.”

The silence that follows is electric.

“Excuse me?”

“You always criticize how I do things,” you spit. “So maybe instead of just criticizing, you could tell me how to do them right, so these things don’t happen.”

“I’m not having this conversation,” Joel shakes his head, leaning down to collect his pack.

“I never learned how to do this! I wasn’t a part of a raiding party! I didn’t have a veteran brother to show me the ropes of—”

“Don’t,” his voice is dangerous when you bring up the brother he’s only mentioned in passing before.

“Fine,” you shake your head and shoulder your own pack. “But if one of us dies, it’s on you.”

You storm past him, your shoulder slamming into his in the process. But instead of ignoring it, he grabs your wrist as you move to exit the hospital lobby.

He’s so close you can feel his breath on your cheek as he faces you. You could count every wrinkle, every scar, every freckle if you want to. Instead, you’re focused on his dark eyes.

“Don’t let it happen again,” His voice leaves no room for argument, and you see pure ire in his gaze.

You sneer and shove him backward before storming out.

- -

Your paths had crossed by accident. By pure serendipity. You often wonder what your life would look like if you hadn’t met Joel Miller—if you’d still be alive at all.

You don’t remember much of your life before the outbreak. It comes in flashes: the flutter of pigeon wings in a big city, school assemblies, your childhood bedroom, crunching leaves, a stray cat.

Your mother died when you were thirteen, leaving you with a band of survivors looking for a QZ. There had been seventeen of you then. When you found Joel ten years later, there were five.

Initially, when you’d run into the weathered, surly man and his companion, a younger, mousy man who was always looking over his shoulder, you didn’t trust him. Not in the slightest. It had taken him saving you from an infected for you to even begin to trust him.

His companion, a boy named Wesley was bitten a month after he had joined your group. One woman was taken out by a band of raiders. Three of the remaining four left you for the Tallahassee QZ. Six months later, the last man, Jose, had succumbed to a fever. Leaving what was once a group of seven, a group of two.

It’s just you and Joel now. It has been for a year. And in that time, you’re still sure that you slow him down more than you earn your keep.

You're a decent fighter, that’s true. You’d had to learn to be after your mother died. It’s dog eat dog in the wild, and you’d intended to survive.

Joel sees you as a liability, though. Still, you don’t complain; you know he’s your best bet at survival.

You aren’t looking for a QZ—at least not for one like Tallahassee—like you and your mother had been for years before she died.

You’d heard horror stories from passersby on your way out of Florida. Stories of militant soldiers, staunch curfews, and too-few rations. You know our way around plants and herbs: you’d sooner try your luck in the wild than be confined to a QZ.

Joel is of the same mind as you. At least you can agree on something.

It’d taken you months to get some kind of a handle on the older man’s personality. And now, after a year and a half of knowing him, you sometimes still think you have no idea who he really is.

Besides your crisis outside of Milwaukee, Joel is cautious.

He always plans for the worst to happen. Prepares for it like it’s second nature to him. He doesn’t talk much either, which is something new to you.

Maybe it was growing up in a caravan of people, or maybe it’s your own talkative nature, but either way, Joel’s silence was something to get used to.

You know he has ghosts—you can recognize the same signs in him that you see in yourself. The twitches of fingers, the mumbling in his sleep, the haunted look he sometimes gets in his eyes. Joel has been through hell, you’re sure of it. Then again, these days everyone has been through hell.

Some are just better at hiding it than others.

- -

You're certain Joel hates you. That you’re an annoyance to him, something to be saddled with.

You glare at the back of his head as he walks several paces ahead of you on the shoulder of the abandoned highway.

The two of you aren’t stupid; anything could be lurking in the trees on either side of the road. You make a point to stick to as close to the forest as you can get without actually stepping in the brush.

You’re on the road North—to Boston, Joel had said. Where he thinks his brother is.

You’d bitten your tongue at the mention of his brother—Tommy, you’d learned his name was.

It’d been a few weeks ago when Joel had found some old whisky in an abandoned house you’d stayed a few days in. It had loosened his tongue just enough for his brother’s name to slip out.

You didn't tell Joel that you suspect his brother was already dead. Few survive as long as you have in this world, even fewer when they’re alone.

You’ve been quiet most of the day; you can tell it annoys him when you talk too much, and you decide to give him a reprieve, if only for a while. Joel seems to prefer the silence.

But you are so bored.

This particular stretch of highway leaves nothing to the imagination; it’s all cornfields and trees. Nothing, as far as the eye can see.

“You ever gonna tell me anything about yourself, Texas?” You ask him, deciding to speak against your better judgment. You’ve been trying to bite your tongue more, not wanting Joel to tire of your presence enough to ditch you.

“What?” Joel barks over his shoulder gruffly.

“I mean, I don’t know anything about you. Other than you’re a pain in my ass and you’re from Texas.”

“And?”

“And, considering you’re all the company I’ve had for a year, that’s a little sad.”

“Sad?”

You roll your eyes at the incredulity in his voice.

“Forget it.”

You don’t know why you even try. Joel is an egg that is impossible to crack.

Joel casts a look at you from over his shoulder. His hair is windswept—gray mixed with brown spun in sunlight. His brows furrow together as he looks at you, like he’s trying to figure you out.

It’s five minutes later before he speaks up.

“I, uh, I used to play guitar,” he slows down so he falls in step beside you.

“What?”

Joel purses his lips and looks down, like he regrets the small piece of information he shared with you.

“Before,” he sighs. “This. I used to play a little.”

“Guitar?” You ask, and he rolled his eyes.

“That’s what I said isn’t it?”

You sigh. Just like always: one step forward, two steps back. Sometimes talking with Joel is like talking to a rock.

“What kind of music would you play?” You ask after a moment.

“Country, mostly,” Joel’s voice sounds far-off, like he’s recalling another life entirely. You suppose, in a way he is. “A little bit of rock. I would play for—“

He stops himself, a cough escaping from his lips. He shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter.” His voice is back to its usual no-nonsense tone. “I haven’t played in years. Since before.”

You hum, continuing to walk down the road.

It’s a ghost town of cars. Relics of a bygone time, frozen like metal skeletons of the old world. It almost makes your heart ache to see them.

You remember a time when you’d ridden in a car—before this. Before you were thrust into this cavity of death and decay.

“Where’d you learn to pick out plants the way you do?”

The question takes you aback, making you look at Joel in surprise. He just stares ahead as he walks.

It’s the first question about yourself he’s ever asked you.

“My mother,” you say. “She was a botanist, before. I was young when the outbreak happened so I don’t have any schooling I can remember well. She would teach me what plants were safe or dangerous or edible or had healing properties. She made me write it all down.”

A part of you thinks that she knew she was going to die, and that’s why she made you record all your knowledge in a tattered notebook. You don’t tell Joel that, though.

“Hm,” he hums. “Didn’t realize you were so…”

“Skilled?” You snark.

“Young.” He says it like it’s a pitiful thing. You bristle.

You turn to him, arms crossed.

“I’m not that young.” You state.

“Sure ya aren’t.”

“I’ve lived,” you begin. “I had to grow up running from clickers and scavenging for food. I had to grow up too quickly. That’s something you can’t even begin to understand.”

He turns around and faces you, face stony, before giving you a once over.

You shift uncomfortably as his eyes run over you, not used to being observed. You’re sure you look ghastly. It’s been weeks since either of you have been able to do more than quickly wash up in a stream or river.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you seethe. “So don’t even try to condescend to me.”

Joel only narrows his eyes, before turning around and continuing to walk.

“You coming?”

- -

You’re as surprised as anyone when it happens.

Having a crush on Joel Miller is the last thing you expected of yourself.

One minute, you’d been climbing up a rocky hill, grabbing onto roots to pull yourself up, and the next you were tumbling downward.

Joel’s arms on either side of your waist keep you up as you fall into him, a grunt leaving him as your weight slams into his torso.

“Watch your step,” his voice is gruff beside your ear. It sends a thrill through your chest.

“Sorry,” you mumble, heart beating through your chest.

“Just be careful,” he helps you get your footing, his hands coming to either side of your hips. The heat from his palms seeping through your jeans. “Don’t need you breaking your neck.”

You chuckle at that, chancing a look back at him.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him.

Before, you’d been able to acknowledge that Joel is an attractive man. That much is obvious.

He’s tall, and broad. And even though you’d never admit it, his constant brooding does something for you.

He always looks so grumpy. You couldn’t help but want to be the one to wipe the frown off his face.

Now, though. This is a whole different animal. Looking at Joel now, pure want courses through your veins.

His brow is furrowed, his hair outgrown in a way that makes him look a bit wild. You need to cut his hair soon. A five-o-clock shadow dusts his sharp jaw, and you imagine what it would be like to run your teeth down it.

“Y’alright?” He asked.

You’re acutely aware of how close the two of you are. If you lean in even an inch, you could—

“Hey,” Joel’s voice snaps you out of it.

“Oh,” you cough, turning back to the rocks in front of you. “I’m fine. Just spooked me is all.”

“Hm,” Joel hums, before continuing to climb after you.

- -

You’d awoken to mumbling—the same mumbling you’d grown accustomed to during your time with Joel.

It was a nightmare. You could tell the signs: the twitching, the mumbling, the jerking in his sleep.

You’d never tell him, but you couldn’t sleep whenever you heard him like this. It made your heart clench with thoughts of your own nightmares. You so desperately wanted to wake him, to shake his shoulders until he awoke, but you never had.

You knew that would plunge your relationship into something different. Something bigger, more raw.

There was a reason Joel never shared anything personal with you. There was a reason he never asked for any of your personal stories. He wanted to keep whatever relationship you had professional. You’d respect that.

Until tonight.

Tonight, Joel had whimpered in his sleep. He’d cried, begged for someone to help. You couldn’t just leave him there.

So, you grab his shoulders and shake.

“Joel,” you whisper. His brows furrow in his sleep, his lips mumbling incoherently. You say his name a little louder. “Joel.”

You can feel the exact moment he gains consciousness—his shoulders tensing and his hands going to your neck and squeezing.

Your breath leaves you and your eyes widen at his scared expression beneath you.

“Joel,” you choke out. “Joel, it’s me. It’s me.”

He releases you with a puff of air and you gasp, falling half on-top of him. Air floods through your now sore wind-pipe. You know it will bruise by the morning.

“What,” his voice was ragged and breathless. The same tone you’d imagine he had when he—-

“Why did you do that?”

Oh, he’s mad.

Great, you think. This is what I get for trying to help.

You bristle.

“I was trying to help you.”

“Trying to get yourself killed, more like.” He snaps. “I don’t need your help.”

“Like hell you don’t!” You snapped back. “You were crying, Joel.”

He looks at you, then. Really looks at you, half on-top of him, your faces inches apart. His eyes drift down to your lips, resting there for a moment. Then, they snap back up to yours, void of any emotion that you’d seen a moment before.

You scoff, pulling back from him.

“Never do that again.”

“Excuse me for trying to help,” you push, too pissed, too tired to let it go. “You woke me up with your fuckin’ whining. Forgive me for trying to get you out of whatever the hell was going on in there.”

“In there,” he spits the words at you.

“In your head, asshole! I know a nightmare when I see one.”

“I don’t need your fucking help.”

“Noted,” you glare at him, before plopping down on your sleeping bag and turning your back to him. “Asshole.” You mumble.

A scoff answered you.

“You know,” you begin, never knowing when to give up. “It wouldn’t kill you to accept help from someone for once.”

“I don’t need—“

“My help, I know.” You finish for him, knowing how angry it makes him. “But everyone needs people, Joel. Even you.”

“I don’t.” He says. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

You don’t know why you even try sometimes.

You sigh, before closing your eyes and trying to get back to sleep.

- -

You share a sleeping bag one night in late August.

The autumn hasn’t begun yet, but it’s swelling on the horizon, bits of it bleeding through into the last bit of summer. And it’s so chilly that he doesn’t even bother arguing with you when you suggest doubling up in your layered sleeping bags to conserve body heat.

There’s a first time for everything i guess, you think to yourself as he settles in beside you, his back to yours.

The heat from his back bleeds into yours, even through the layers of clothing you have on.

He zips up the sleeping bags before turning over and going still. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was dead. You never understood that about Joel; the man can sleep anywhere.

You’re sleeping out in the open tonight: on the corner of a tiny clearing somewhere in Eastern Tennessee. You’re the only people for miles, and still, you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched. Despite your years on the road, it’s never been a fear you could shake.

You toss and turn for a few minutes before Joel sighs in frustration beside you.

“Can you quit your movin’?” He’s as cranky as always.

“Sorry,” you mumble, looking up at the sky full of stars above you. It’s a sight you’d never tire of, even if it meant having to sleep with no roof over your head. “Can’t sleep.”

“I gathered that.”

“I just feel like someone’s watching me. Or that they’re in the woods, waiting to jump out.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Joel’s voice is dry.

“I know,” you laugh breathily. “Still, though.”

You look up at the deep, black, inky sky, rife with twinkling lights, burning millions of miles away. For a moment you wonder what it would be like to be one of those stars—so removed from this shithole of a world you were living in now. Then, in the corner of your vision, you see it: the streaking of white across the sky.

You gasp.

“Joel!” you say. “Joel, look!”

“What now?” he asks gruffly.

“A shooting star!” Just then, another streaks across the black expanse. “And there's another one!”

“Hm,” Joel turns over just enough to look over his shoulder at the sky. “A meteor shower. Great. Now go to bed.”

You sigh as he turns back over, eyes remaining on the sky, now streaked with countless stars falling toward earth. And for once, you allow yourself to wonder what it might like away from all this. Free.

You don’t feel the bullet until after the raider is dead at your feet.

It starts as a numb feeling in your shoulder, then all at once: pain.

Searing, pulsing pain like you’ve never felt before. It takes everything in you not to cry out.

You feel something warm and wet on your hands and look down to see blood seeping through your long sleeve onto your palm.

Shit, you think. I’m going to die. I’m going to die and Joel is going to be alone.

Part of you thinks he would like it better this way: with no one to look after, no one butting their head into his business.

But you don’t have time to dwell on that thought, before Joel is barreling into the room.

“Where the hell did they even come from?” He pants, leaning into his knees. “Shit.”

You scan his body for injuries, glad when you don’t find any.

“Are you okay?” Your teeth begin to chatter, and all of a sudden you’re so, so cold.

“Fine,” he says, not looking at you. “One of them got a good swipe at my side though. Might need you to stitch it up.”

Somewhere, far off, you think you hum in response, but the fuzziness that started in your shoulder has made it to your head, obstructing your hearing.

“Sweetheart?” Joel’s voice is far away, removed, almost like it’s under water.

“Yeah,” you mumble, stumbling to the side, hand coming to grip your wound. “Yeah, I can—“

“Shit! You’re hit. Why didn’t you say something?”

You’re in someone’s arms, on the ground, your vision going blurry.

“No, no, no. Stay awake. Stay awake for me,” it’s Joel speaking to you. His voice holds what sounds like… panic? No, that can’t be right.

Oh right, you’re dying.

You must have messed up your checks again and missed the raiders. Like last time. Like you’d promised him you wouldn’t.

“Sorry,” you cough. “Sorry, l let it happen again.”

“W-what?” You’ve never heard his voice waver before.

“S-sorry,” you’re shivering, and your hands are gripping the canvas of Joel’s jacket in a vice grip. “Sorry I d-didn’t do my checks right again.”

All of a sudden, you’re in the air, one of his hands behind your knees and the other around your back.

“Shh, shh, just stay with me.” Joel’s lips are to your forehead. “Stay with me. You’re gonna be okay.”

It’s all you hear before you black out.

- -

When you wake up, you’re on the floor, in what looks like a house.

You feel cold and clammy, and your mouth is dry. Your tongue feels like sandpaper in your mouth. You shiver under your blankets.

You glance around you, taking in your surroundings.

You’re definitely not in a house—a barn maybe? There are no windows, and the raw wood that makes up the walls and floors around you make you think it is a barn or shack of sorts.

Off to one side of you, there’s your pack, untouched from the scuffle that left you with a bullet in your shoulder.

Your shoulder is numb, if a little achy. You don’t try to move it; you know better than that.

You look down to your torso and see that you’re wrapped in two sleeping bags—both yours and Joel’s.

Joel.

Where is he?

As if on cue, the door to the barn opens, and with a gust of cool wind, Joel comes in, a rabbit in hand.

Your heart stutters.

He looks…tired. Like he hasn’t slept in days. How long has it been since you got shot? How long did he have to carry you to get here?

“You’re up,” his eyes are on you, glistening with something you can’t quite place. It’s the most emotion—besides anger—you’ve seen on his face.

“Guess so,” your voice is rocky as you say it. The words catch in your throat, causing you to cough.

“Here,” Joel scrambles, dropping his pack to the ground and pulling out his metal canteen. “Don’t try to talk. You need to drink something.”

He holds out the water toward you, and without thinking, you reach for it with your injured arm. Immediately, you regret it. You hiss, a sharp pain shooting down your arm.

“Shit, here,” Joel kneels down beside you and you’re struck again by just how large he is. His shoulders stretch broadly under the flannel he wears. The top few buttons have been left open, exposing the expanse of his neck.

He opens the canteen and brings it to your lips, one of his hands coming behind your head to cup your neck as you try to lean up. Heat flares your cheeks.

“Take it easy, let me come to you,” he says. “Don’t need you pulling a muscle.”

The water tastes like salvation and you drink so much that some dribbles down your chin. If it were anyone else with you, you would be embarrassed, but this is Joel. He most likely already had to remove your shirt to dress your wound. Besides, he is the closest thing you have to a friend in this world. You try not to think of how sad that is: your only friend doesn’t even really like you.

“Thank you,” you breathe after you’re done. You lay your head back down on the pillow, but Joel’s hand stays on your face, moving from your neck to your cheek.

You still.

His palm covers your jaw and cheek, warm to the touch. His thumb skirts over your cheekbone, and his eyes remain on you, brows furrowed. You can’t bring yourself to look away from his gaze.

“What you did was stupid,” he says after a minute, removing his hand. His eyes move from your face to the floor as he takes a swig of water from the canteen.

You close your eyes and sigh.

“I know,” you mumble. “I should’ve done my checks—”

“I don’t give a shit about your checks,” his voice is quietly urgent as his head whips to you. “You didn’t tell me you were hit. You’re lucky I was able to sew you up. You could’ve died.”

“I didn’t, though.”

“But you could’ve,” he shakes his head at you.

“I got shot! I’m fine. Relax.”

“Relax?” He spits the words at you. “You scared me to death. I haven’t been so scared since–”

“Since what?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He sniffs. “Just don’t ever, ever do that again. It was stupid and selfish.”

“Selfish?” You’re confused.

“Yes, selfish.” He pushes. “Did you ever think about what would happen to me if you died?”

Your breath catches in your throat as you grasp—or try to grasp—what he’s saying.

He won’t meet your eyes.

“That’s,” you stutter. “That’s the world we live in, Joel. That’s life. When Jose—”

“You aren’t Jose.” He says lowly, his eyes rising to meet yours.

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, Joel’s on his feet. He grabs the rabbit from the floor at his feet and goes outside, leaving you to wonder what the hell just happened.

- -

It’s after dinner before you venture to speak to him again.

Your dinner of roasted rabbit and expired canned green beans had been stilted at best, neither of you bothering to say more than “pass me this” or “could you hand me” that.

Your mind has been absolutely racing with thoughts of your last conversation–the need in his voice, the spark in his eyes—but you didn’t want to push it. Not until now at least.

“How long was I out?” you ask after he disposes of what's left of your dinner.

Joel sits down beside you and looks at the makeshift fire in the middle of the room. The reflection of the fire on his eyes makes them look ablaze. You can’t look away.

He’d helped you sit up before dinner to eat, finally removing you from the cocoon of blankets and layers he’d constructed around you. You noticed that he’d dressed you in a shirt of his: a worn henley, deciding to forgo whatever clothes you had in your own pack.

The weather has begun to turn; September bleeding into October and bringing cool winds and red leaves with it. With the lack of insulation in this barn, there’s no way you’ll be warm tonight. You shiver.

“Three days,” he locks his jaw. “You were delirious for a few, before your fever broke.”

Your stomach plummets.

Oh, god, what did you say?

You don’t have the courage to ask, so you only nod.

“We should get to bed,” he says. “I wanna head out early tomorrow. We’ve already been here too long.”

You nod as he walks over to help you from your sitting position near the fire.

His arms move around you, practically lifting you up so you can stand. Sometimes you forget just how strong he is. He smells like the woodsmoke and the cheap soap he uses, and Joel. The scent is heady and swarms your senses. You can’t handle him this close.

“Here just grab onto me, like this,” his voice is right by your ear. “Good girl.”

Oh.

Those words alight something in you and you’re sure you��re blushing up to your ears. You wonder what they’d sound like rasped in your ear.

Seamlessly, Joel lays you down onto where the two sleeping bags are. Where you’ve been sleeping the past few days.

Your brows furrow.

“Where have you been sleeping, Joel?” you ask.

Joel looks down sheepishly.

“Right there,” he says. “My jacket’s warm. Besides, didn’t want you catching a cold.”

As if on cue, you feel a brisk wind breeze through the cracks in the wood and into the barn. You shiver.

“Are you kidding?” you ask. “You’ll freeze to death. Take your sleeping bag.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “You need it. You’ve just been shot.”

“And I’m fine now. Albeit a little weak. I don’t need your sleeping bag too.”

“I’m not arguin’ with you,” he says staunchly. He is so stubborn, you want to throttle him. “You’re getting the sleeping bag, end of story.”

“Like hell!”

“Do you always have to be so stubborn?”

“You’re one to talk.”

Joel takes a breath.

“I’m trying to help you.” He says quietly after a moment. “It’s the only way I know how. Over–over there, when you,” he pauses. “When you got shot. There was nothing I could do. Nothing. Let me do this. Please.”

You sit there, stunned at his admission.

You had no idea that your getting injured would affect him this much–affect him at all. Maybe you aren’t just an annoyance to Joel. Maybe you’re a friend to him. Your mind won’t let you wander into thinking it’s something more.

You nod.

“Okay,” you say, voice small.

“Okay,” he nods, before grabbing the rifle. “I’ll take first watch.”

- -

You awaken to teeth chattering from a few feet away from you.

You yourself shiver as you’re pulled from a dream of clickers and your mother, just realizing how cold it is.

Despite being bundled in a long sleeve and two sleeping bags, the cold has managed to seep into your very bones. You can only imagine how cold Joel must be. It’s him whose teeth are chattering beside you.

You cough.

“Joel,” you whisper-shout at him. You reach over to shake him but think better of it, remembering what happened last time you shook him awake.

“Joel,” you say a little louder this time, and he finally stirs.

“What?” His voice is sinful; rough and gravely from sleep. “What happened?”

“I can hear you from over here,” you call. “I told you so.”

“That what you woke me up to say?” He asks unpleasantly, pulling his coat tighter around his body.

“No,” you chuckle. “C’mere.”

He looks over his shoulder at you skeptically.

“Why?”

“Just come here, old man.”

Joel grumbles under his breath—something about an ungrateful girl—but gets up nonetheless, moving a few feet over to you.

“What?” he exacerbates once he’s next to you. You can see how his hair is disheveled from sleep in the dim light.

“Get in here.” You pull back the covers and scoot over in invitation.

There’s a palpable silence as he sits there, frozen, looking at you cautiously.

“I don’t have all night, Joel.”

“You,” he coughs, voice catching. “You just got shot.”

“So sleep on the other side,” you offer. “I can’t sleep with you chattering away over there.”

Joel blows out a breath.

“Alright.”

And in he climbs, kicking off his shoes and maneuvering his lumbering body into the tight space next to you. Every atom of your body feels electric as his scent envelopes you. Your hip presses into his stomach as he sidles up to you.

Joel clears his throat, arms moving around you warily.

“This alright?”

“It’s fine,” you whisper back, scooting further back into him so your ass is pressed to his groin.

You feel Joel stiffen and you try to withhold the smirk from crossing your lips.

“You’re warm,” you mumble.

Joel’s hand tightens on your hip and you feel his breath in your ear as he lays his head on the pillow next to your head.

“Hm,” he hums, before sighing. “Go to bed.”

You close your eyes and try to sleep, comforted by the steady breaths of the man behind you.

– -

You wake with a gasp to Joel’s hands gripping your hips in a vice grip. You’d been having a dream where Joel’s head was between your thighs, his hands holding your hips down to the bed—a real bed.

You blink in the dim light of the barn.

“Wha—” you begin, before you realize the precarious position you’ve found yourself in.

Shit.

In your sleep, you’ve scooted further backward into Joel, your ass pressed up against his groin tighter than before. Your legs have somehow tangled in his, your thighs wrapped around one of Joel’s thighs, grinding.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you think to yourself, freezing.

“I—shit,” you mumble, squirming in Joel’s still tight grip on your hips. “I’m sorry Joel, I was dreaming I—”

“It’s fine, just—quit moving.”

It’s then that you realize that your ass hadn’t been grinding back onto just anything: it had been grinding backward onto Joel’s erection, pressing stiffly into your lower back.

“Oh,” you breathe, and Joel jumps back, scrambling to move away from you.

“Joel, wait,” you say breathlessly. You reach back and grab his wrist without thinking and he freezes.

Slowly, painfully, you bring his hand around your torso to the front of your hips, right to the zipper of your jeans.

What happens next is frantic. Joel’s fingers work with expert precision, undoing the button and zipper on your jeans, and the next thing you know, his hand is in your pants.

His fingers move fast, wasting no time sliding between your legs and into your slick. You’re already soaked.

“Darlin’,” Joel rasps and it's deep, breathy right in your ear. You hum back at him.

“How long you been like this, huh?” he breathes, running his teeth over your earlobe.

You open your mouth to reply, but all coherent thoughts leave your head when his finger rubs against your clit.

The sound that leaves you is something between a moan and a whimper. You grab onto Joel’s forearm, nails biting into the skin there. Joel’s other hand snakes up your torso and palms at your breast over your—his—shirt.

“Right there, baby?” He breathes into your ear, finger adding more pressure to your clit. You whimper and nod in response, mouth dropping open. Your hand reaches up to palm at his hair.

“How long you been this wet, hm?” Joel asks again, sucking a bruise into your neck. “Answer me.”

“A–a while,” you breathe, grinding back into his erection that's pressing into your ass, hard and warm through his jeans.

At your response, Joel inserts one of his fingers into you. He groans as they move in junction with the finger moving against your sensitive nub.

“That right?” his fingers move faster, picking up the pace as you grind and whimper against him.

“And what made you such a mess?”

Heat floods your face. Are you really going to tell him? One stroke to your clit makes any inhibitions you have fly out the window.

“You,” you say, grinding into his hands. His hand over your shirt moves under your clothes and skates up your torso, before grabbing your bare breast and squeezing.

You bite back your moan.

“Tell me more, sweetheart.”

“Y-you, Joel,” you babble, too far-gone to fully comprehend the magnitude of what you’re saying. “Your hands, your shoulders, when you call me ‘good girl’, when you wear those stupid, stupid, jeans–”

Joel sucks a bruise into the base of your neck and you gasp.

“Think you can take another one?”

You nod against him.

“Words, darlin’.”

“Yes, Joel.”

“Okay, baby,” he presses a close-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, before inserting another finger and pumping faster.

He groans against you.

“So tight,” he growls against your neck. “That’s a good girl, c’mon, you can take it.”

You clamp up on him, his words send heat running through you.

“Oh, you like that?” Joel asks. “Being called a good girl?”

You nod.

“You like being my good girl?”

You nod, and his fingers pick up their pace, and your heartbeat and pleasure crest, before you fall over the edge.

You pant, finally releasing Joel’s forearm. Joel’s breath is heavy in your ear as you catch your breath.

“Wow,” you mumble after a moment.

Joel just blows out a breath, leaning back.

“If i’d known getting you to come would make you so agreeable, I’d have done it a long time ago.”

You chuckle, rolling over to face him.

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Mm,” he hums, taking a piece of your hair and running it down your nose.

You take this moment to observe him: his weathered face, lined with worry lines, a five o’clock shadow brushing his jawline. His salt and pepper hair is messy–a result of your hands running through it—and his flannel is disheveled from sleep and…other things.

Your eyes travel from his torso down to…oh.

You start at the sight of Joel’s erection.

“Joel,” you say, sitting up. “You didn’t—”

“Don’t worry about that,” Joel sits up with you. “I’ll take care of it.”

“No–” you grab his hand as he goes to stand. “Let me.”

“Darlin’,” Joel sighs as you undo his button and zipper. “You’re hurt—”

“I’m not too hurt for this,” you counter, pulling him out of his jeans.

You marvel at the size of him. In your experience (albeit as limited as it is), you’ve never seen someone as big as him.

He’s… pretty. You want it in your mouth.

You pump him, gripping him tightly. Joel hisses as you do it, head tipping backward.

You move to kneel in front of him, leveling your face with his crotch, but a hand on your shoulder stops you.

“No,” he says, running his fingers along your cheek. “Not tonight.”

You nod at him, moving back so your heads are level with each other. Joel brushes a stray hair away from your eyes, before nosing into your shoulder.

“Lay back,” you mumble. “Let me take care of you, Joel.”

He pulls back and looks at you with a stony gaze. Even now, you can’t read him.

“Let me take care of you.”

He stares at you for a moment, before nodding.

He lets you push him backward onto the sleeping bags. You lay down beside him and reach for his manhood again. Joel throws his head back as you squeeze, jerking him in rhythm.

You hum in response.

“Talk to me,” you whisper to him, running your teeth along the line of his jaw like you always imagined doing. “Have you imagined this?”

Joel moans–it’s a stilted, half-formed thing that comes from the back of his throat.

“Talk to me, Texas.”

He groans, hand moving to your hair as you suck a bruise into the junction of his neck.

“You know I have,” he pushes out. “Naughty girl.”

You hum against his neck, encouraging him to continue.

“You in those tiny tops, never wearing a bra.”

You jerk him faster as his hips jerk up to meet your fist.

“I-Imagined you, like this.” He rasps. “On your knees, my cock down your throat.”

“Then why didn’t you let me–?”

“You’re–hurt,” he half-moans, and you know he’s close.

“Aw,” you coo into his ear. “Big, bad Joel Miller a softy under all that sass?”

“Sh-shut u—” his words are cut off by his own climax, a moan ripping through his throat. He spurts over your hand, hips arching off the sleeping bags beneath him.

As he comes down from is high, you lick his salty-sweet spend off your fingers.

“Did you–”

Joel looks at you with a bewildered expression. You only stare him down with a triumphant gaze.

“I told you I wanted to take care of you.”

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onesaltyhunter · 10 months

Text

And in your waking moments,

I will be there.

Incubus! IV x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N has been one of the guitar techs, alongside one of the light engineers for Sleep token for quite a few years now. She'd consistently heard of various individuals' attraction to IV, but brushed it off as she ruled it as self-explanatory. He's a talented guitarist for one of the biggest bands on the planet. But there is a secret that lies beyond the surface. He's not exactly, well, human. So what other things is he hiding?

WARNINGS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI: LIKE SMUT. A LOT. until there isn't... BUT THERE WILL BE. SWEARING TOO. Accidental harm (by IV), him underestimating his strength. Also, other non-human vessels. IV goes from being an absolute bottom of a person to a top in no time.

REMEMBER!!! THESE FICS ARE ABOUT THE CHARACTER. NOT THE PERSON BEHIND THE MASK. PLEASE RESPECT THEIR PRIVACY.

also, photocreds to @/adamrosssi on instagram!

The sound of the band playing before Sleep Token was almost deafening, yet it brought no distractions to Y/N, who was restringing one of IV's Gretschs after the low E string snapped. It was a fairly unusual sight--the thickest string on a guitar, breaking. Of course it was more typical for the high E string to break, but the low one? It puzzled Y/N, but she merely glossed over it, in an attempt to finish restringing the guitar early.

As much as she wished to enjoy the wonderful energy of music festivals, the air wasn't exactly the most pleasing thing about it. The mixture of sweat and liquor seemed to always be the smell of impending doom.

"You alright?" III patted her on the shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Y/N stood up to secure the guitar on the rack. "You ready to fuck shit up?"

"Oh don't you worry. I've got a lot of that planned."

III and Y/N shared a laugh as Vessel approached the two of them. Their giggles faded away, and Y/N put both of her arms to her sides, her legs pressed together. III raised a brow, before biting the inside of his mouth to stifle a laugh.

"Sir, reporting for duty!" Y/N's eyes went wide, as she looked at a moderately confused Vessel.

"Why, do you... Just, why?" Vessel smiled and shook his head before letting out a small laugh.

Y/N stopped tensing up, as she sighed and began to stand with her arms crossed now. While Vessel and III were carrying on their conversation of adding a surprise song to the setlist, she peaked behind them, to see IV speaking with one of the event organizers. One of the most important skills that Y/N acquired after spending time with the band was reading others emotions, without having to ever see one's face. The event organizer had her hand on her hip, leaning forward just a bit, while IV cocked his head to the side, responding with a slow nod.

Damn that woman thinks she has her fucking claws in IV right n- Y/N's thoughts were interrupted by IV, whose gaze darted over at her almost instantly. He squinted at her, his mask wrinkling up around the mouth.

"Who the fuck pissed him off?" II walked by, unpacking a couple drumsticks to use for the next show.

"Hm?" Vessel and III glanced at IV, who was slowly approaching them. "What, him?"

"You alright mate?" II took a step back, as IV remained silent.

"IV your maple-neck Gretsch it's..." Y/N started to say.

"Been restrung. I know, thank you." IV swallowed hard before picking it up from the rack, wrapping the strap around him.

"Mhm." Y/N nodded before walking over to the rack to make sure the back-up guitars were also in good condition.

IV grabbed her by the forearm. She could feel his nails graze her skin, but he didn't sink them in. His hold was somehow gentle, even though she could almost feel his anger and aggression simply by staring into his eyes.

"I don't like her. If that was what you were thinking." He whispers, and the other three members retreat slowly. IV looks down at where his hand was, realizing that his grip had become even more firm, his eyes widening and darting back to Y/N's. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was... I... I should go. Um, sorry, again. So sorry."

IV let go of Y/N, and shook his head as he fixed his hood to follow the rest of the band. He continously swore to himself. He couldn't simply brush off what he just did. Y/N glanced at the dots of black paint that had been left on her skin. She wasn't offended at all by what IV did. Disturbed? Maybe. The guys had their ups and downs. Their highs and lows. Y/N has bared witness to almost all of them. This, wasn't knew. IV wouldn't hurt her. For that matter, no member of the band would.

But what he said, still caught her off guard. He didn't like the event organizer? IV clearly looked furious when he turned to face Y/N, but she had really never seen him truly angry before. Frustrated with the small things like breaking the low E string of course, but with something like this? But again that added on to the long list of things that happened to be unusual in the past few days. First the seemingly unbreakable string on most guitars snaps, and then IV, snaps. But Y/N refused to judge. It came to mind that thee was a chance he was going through something in his life that must be difficult to deal with. Family problems or maybe some personal ones. It wasn't her place to judge and she was aware of it.

Y/N stepped down to the booth where all the lights were being managed. In assisting the other light engineer, she helped to make sure the right colored lights were associated with the right song. As the band started their set, she nodded, confirming that everything was going well on the electronics side. The lights blinked red and she looked up at IV who glanced at her for a split second. In her head, an image of his eyes transitioning from cerulean to crimson flashed almost immediately.

"Y/N, do you see something wrong with one of the lights?" The other engineer raised a brow, trying to catch a glimpse of what she was staring at.

"Uh, no. Just got a little bit of something on my mind, that's all." She mumbled, adjusting the light colors again for the next half of the song.

After sitting down for the rest of the set, with all of the pre-programmed lights working accordingly, Y/N felt a bit uneasy looking up at the stage. Every glance at IV made her feel, unusual. She couldn't explain what the feeling was, even to herself. Like her heart was racing but not out of fear, but rather, for something else. After 2 more songs, it felt as if her whole body was screaming at her to look at him again. And so she did, locking eyes with him once more.

"Hey, if you're not feeling alright, you can head back to the hotel." The other engineer smiled. "I'm pretty sure that no one would be upset with you getting some rest. Come on, you've been preparing for this festival for a while."

"But what if something goes wrong with the guitars. I need to... I need-"

"I think what you need, is a very long nap. I'll tell the guys. Don't worry!"

Y/N nodded, and went to go grab her backpack halfway through The Offering. Even as IV was jumping around on stage, he glanced at the light booth, where only one person was sitting. A quick look around to the left, and he saw Y/N packing her belongings.

He grew restless throughout the whole show. IV tried his best to enjoy everything, the energy of the crowd, the music, and the wonderful light show, and... He just couldn't. Growing tense near the last song, he pressed down on the fretboard of his Jackson guitar, and broke the lowest string. Again. Luckily, it was after the last note of the song had been played, and the 4 of them could finally leave the stage.

"What the hell did you do this time?" Vessel shook his head, adjusting his hood. "Dig your nails into her skin and expect her to want to stay? You're mad."

"I just-" IV started.

"Just what man?" III's laugh sounded like a cocktail of anger and disappointment. "Oh yeah, 'just because you think I like this girl that was flirting with me, I don't and hope you know that.' What the actual fuck was that? You better pray to Sleep you didn't scare her away forever. Fuck."

"Oh." Vessel lets out a small chuckle, staring at IV.

"Don't you read my thoughts. Not now." IV sets his guitar down in the rack, the lowest string slumping over the other slots in the rack.

"The problem is not that I can read your thoughts, rather, that I can't." Vessel's lips crooned, and the rest of them knew that he was squinting under his mask. "What blessing has Sleep given you that I cannot fathom?"

"I don't want to speak about it."

"Mate, you do realize we can help you, if you need it." II placed his hand on IV's shoulder.

"You need to learn when to shut your mouth." A low growl escaped IV's lips.

"You need to learn when to calm down!" III's eyes widened, raising his voice to gain the vessel's attention.

"You need to learn to keep your hands off of Y/N, you bastard." IV's eyes shifted from blue to crimson again, and III stifled a whimper in his throat.

"Oh my, Sleep." II took a couple steps away. "You're one of 'em? One of 'em servants of Sleep that uh... Needs to do... That thing... That process to stay alive? How long have you been this way?"

Although III, was still partially terrified, he let out a small giggle, followed by a few words that sounded like "he means sex, doesn't he." IV's eyes returned back to their original color, and he inhaled sharply in a brief attempt to calm himself, which inevitably failed.

"That makes you, quite... Um..." Vessel gulped, biting the inside of his lip. "Promiscuous, does it not?"

IV shook, his head, which earned him some odd looks from the rest of the band. It was true, he would indeed die, if he didn't, in his words, "participate in some ungodly practices" frequently. He hadn't the slightest idea how he was still alive, but he had ignored it for the most part. IV was still willing and able to go up on stage for rituals, so, he hadn't thought much of the idea.

"You're a fucking incubus and you're not having sex? How the hell are you alive? How are you not a whor-" III questioned him loudly, and II elbowed him in the ribs to get him to quiet down. "Jeez, fucking christ I get it."

"Dunno. Just, don't want to." IV shrugs, and the whole band goes quiet as one of the crew members passes by to help pack some of the gear up.

"I thought you were actually trying to flirt with that event organizer earlier?" Vessel raised a brow, crossing his arms.

"She was trying to flirt with me, and I wouldn't budge. Then I heard Y/N thinking that I liked the woman and I flipped. I don't know what happened, I just, couldn't take it anymore."

"So you know Y/N likes you? As in, has been fancying you for the past 4 years and hasn't said a thing?" III piped up again, knowing that IV's angry actions were practically unpredictable. "Speaking of Y/N, where is she?"

"I scared her away."

"Excuse me?" II furrowed his brows, setting his box of drumsticks down, hard. "You, what?"

"Either she knows that I'm not, human, or, she thinks she's insane." IV exhaled sharply, his head finding a small bit of peace in the palms of his hands. "Fuck me."

"She's probably at the hotel, you should talk to her." III replied, and IV sighed.

"So I can go off and scare her again? No thank you, I'm fine. And I'm quite sure she is without... Without me."

"Praise be to Sleep you are infatuated with this woman." Vessel shook his head. "For the love of all that is holy, if you do not speak to Y/N, I will do so for you."

"And what the fuck will you say, Vessel? 'Nice to see you again Y/N! Yeah, did you know, that IV likes you just as you like him, and oh yeah, he is a demon, whose existence relies off the fact that he has to FUCK SOMEONE! Oh yeah! See you later!' What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck is wrong with all of you?" IV stormed off, and the other three refused to follow him.

~~timey wimey skip~~

Y/N dropped her bag on the floor, and crawled into bed before grabbing one of the blankets she brought and tossed it over herself. She couldn't recall how fast it was before she fell asleep.

After blinking a few times, she sat up in bed, except the room... She wasn't in the hotel anymore. This was, home... This was her home. Her house. This was her bedroom. Y/N began to hyperventilate, and that feeling that something was caught in her chest earlier, returned. She looked around before a black-painted hand landed on her shoulder. In a frenzy, she pushed the person down against the bed, and it took a second to realize.

"IV? What are you, what are we... What the hell?" She let go of him, sliding back to the other side of the bed. "What are you doing here, what are we doing here? I'm at the hotel. How..."

"Please, I'm sorry. I'm making you like this. I don't want you to feel like this."

"Oh there's nothing wrong with me I'm fin-" Y/N was cut off by the tightening in her chest becoming worse by the second. "God, damn it!"

"How do I? I don't know how to..."

"What the hell are you doing, IV?" Y/N blinked a few times, squinting at him.

"I'm an incubus. I'm a fucking incubus and that's why you're in pain. This is a dream."

Y/N stared at him, the pain of confusion striking her harder than the actual physical pain she was dealing with. Every fibre of IV's being was screaming at him to hold her hand, to just do anything in his power to comfort her. She was in pain, and desperate for answers.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so rude. I shouldn't have, I-"

"IV."

"Yes?"

"You, are a sex demon?"

"Yeah."

Silence.

"Is every member of Sleep Token, one or is it just you?"

"Just me, but every member of the band isn't human." Words kept leaping out of IV's mouth and he couldn't stop himself. "You aren't, scared of me? Y/N, I could hurt you, I could kill you."

"IV, I, know none of you are human." Y/N began to bite the tip of her tongue as the pain started to become a little worse. "Vessel reads minds; I'm not sure what II and III can do but, III invades my dreams to play video games with me sometimes."

"III is finding his way into your dreams?" IV's eyes shift colors again. "Fucker doesn't know when to stay away."

"Whoa, whoa, he's like a brother to you isn't he? Because I know he's like one to m-" Y/N was interuppted by IV tearing his mask off and pressing his lips against hers.

She pulled back, seeing his crimson eyes in their full glory, alongside how his back teeth were as sharp as his canines. Her eyes darted from one inhuman feature to another, which caused IV to panic. He turned to the mirror behind him to realize what he had revealed to her. He crawled backwards before he reached the foot of the bed.

"No, I shouldn't be doing this. Not to you."

"IV, I'm not scared of you!"

"You don't get it. This pain you feel, it's some sick way of getting to to sleep with me. Some fucking power I can't control. God, you may not even love me."

"Excuse me?"

"This attraction you feel to me is because some ability I harbor. You don't love me. You can't, it's not possible. I need to go."

"IV, wait."

Y/N pulled out a small necklace hidden behind her shirt, and revealed it to IV.

"Vessel gave me this the day I got the job. Said I would need it or you four would give me a headache." Y/N pressed her hand against IV's chest. "It's so none of your guys' weird mind controlling powers can get to me. IV, I fucking give a shit about you and there's nothing you can do to change that. The fangs, the eyes, the fact that you're a damn incubus. Nothing, will ever change that, you hear me?"

IV paused, and his lips crashed into Y/N's again. She wrapped his arms around him, pulling his hood down. After scooting into his lap, he pressed her against the bed. Her hands were entwined in his hair, as he dived in for another kiss, this one being more hungry than the last.

"Are you okay, with this, with, all of this?" IV whispered against her neck.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna add onto a few years of your life because of this right?"

IV snickered and pressed another kiss to her lips, entwined the fingers of one of his hands with hers. In another kiss, her tongue grazed one of his sharp molars, but the two ignored the coppery taste left behind.

He pulled his heavy jacket off before beginning to kiss and bite softly around Y/N's collarbone, mumbling praises after every single one, drawing a small moan from the bottom of her throat.

"I'm sorry." IV apologized again, and Y/N mumbled a "why" in response.

Her eyes shot open, realizing that she was still in the hotel room. It was almost pitch black, and a figure emerged from the darkness, crawling onto the bed next to her.

"We're finishing this outside of the dream." IV tossed his mask, jacket, and shirt onto the chair by the window before crawling above Y/N and resuming where he left off.

Y/N practically ripped off her shirt, as she placed her hand on his clothed member, earning a moan from him, which he attempted to stifle with another kiss.

"Oh no darling." IV smirked, hooking his fingers along the waistbands of her shorts and undergarments. "I think this part should just be, about you."

He dove in almost immediately, and she could feel her walls clench at the mere exposure of herself to him. IV licked slowly, up and down her slit, maintaining eye contact with Y/N the whole time.

"Oh my god IV..." She moaned, holding onto him by the locks of his hair.

He pressed 2 fingers against her slit, before rubbing small circles on it. IV leaned into another kiss, before his kisses started trailing down her chest. Almost instantly, he pressed 2 fingers inside of her.

"So wet for me huh?" IV chuckled, in an attempt to stifle a small moan from himself, as he felt his member grow harder against his pants. "Fucking beautiful."

"IV please just..."

"What do you want, darlin'?" His eyes were glowing red at this point, and for once, he didn't care for it.

"I want to-"

"What do you want?" He pulled both of his fingers out of her, placing them into his mouth, and closing his eyes before letting out a small groan. "Fuck, you taste delightful."

IV was in a rush to rid himself of his pants and his own undergarments, before pressing small kisses on Y/N's neck again. She could feel how soaked she was, how even the insides of her thighs were coated with her own juices. And this new sight, made her walls clench at nothing.

"Please IV. Just please..."

"You want me inside you, sweetheart? That what you want?" IV tapped his member against her slit a few times, a sadistic chuckle leaving his mouth as Y/N's desperate attempts to gain friction were fruitless. "I need to hear you say it."

"Fucking hell, IV, I need you to fuck me for God's sake!"

"Anything for you darling, anything for you." He aligned himself before pressing into her.

Y/N let out a loud gasp, as she underestimated how large his member actually was. Wrapping her arms around him, she clawed at his back, earning a small growl from him. His pace was slow and deadly. IV made sure that the two of them would savor every single moment of this event. While Y/N was reduced to a pool of moans, IV's occasional growl or low chuckle seemingly made her worse. It took only seconds before IV had kept hitting the right spot, over and over. He leaned in, sinking his teeth into her neck, as if she didn't have enough marks already. Y/N returned the favor, leaving small hickies up and down his neck, to which he responded by crashing his lips into hers while his cock was still buried deep inside of her.

"You gonna cum for me darling?"

Y/N could only moan in response, as she felt IV's warm breath on her neck again, the precursor to the feeling of sweet release that hit both of them simultaneously. IV landed on his back next to her, entwining his fingers with hers again.

"Was that, uhm, good?" IV turned his neck to face her.

"IV, that, was the best thing. Ever." Y/N let out a small laugh, proceeding to cuddle more into him. "I'm just a bit tired now, that's all. "

IV's fangs retracted and his eyes returned to their normal shade of blue.

"Still can't believe we went from terrified to talking to each other to..."

"You having sex with an incubus? Well, there's a first time for everything I guess."

"Do you still feel like you want to kill III?"

"No." IV mumbled, placing his head atop hers as there bodies pressed against each other's softly. "We belong to each other now, and I think we have enough marks to prove it. Now, darling, you can rest. Because in your waking moments, know that I will be there too."

"Good night IV." Y/N pressed her face against her chest. "I-I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N. I love you too." He smiled.

~fin~

A/N

WOOOOOO IT'S OVER yeah there may be a part two. Perhaps? Mayhaps? Anyways I hope yall liked it, and I hope my smut wasn't awful because I am TIRED like DAMN. But still, once again, I hope yall enjoyed and I will see you in the next one!! <3 the chances of the next one being less horny and more wholesome are high.

#sleep token #vessel iv sleep token #iv sleep token #iv x reader #iii sleep token #ii sleep token #vessel sleep token #sleep token x reader #iv smut #iv sleep token smut

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