#I wish I could show the world the side of these dogs that I see | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fastandcarlos · 6 months ago

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Through The Years : ̗̀➛ Lewis Hamilton

summary: you've been with lewis since day one, and you've got the instagram posts still saved to show just how much you guys have been through over the years

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liked ynusername, mercedesamgf1 and 2,419,593 others

lewishamilton: WORLD CHAMPION BABY 🏆🏎️

291,492 comments

username1: always knew you were destined for greatness

username2: congrats champ 🏆

ynusername: pretty cool to say I’m not dating a world champ 💕

lewishamilton: @/ynusername you’re welcome 😂

username3: IM SO PROUD OF YOU LEWIS!!

nicorosberg: I’ll get you next year 😂

kimimatiasraikkonen: amazing season lewis, congratulations 👏🏻

username4: my world champ 🌍🏆

username5: we always knew that you’d get there…first of many 🫶🏻

jensonbutton: nice to see the trophy coming back to british seas 🎉

username6: cannot wait for you to be world champion for the next twenty thousand seasons 🥺

aussiegrit: amazing season, great racing with you this year!!

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liked by lewishamilton, nicorosberg and 992,138 others

ynusername: apparently i'm a mercedes girl now, 2012 season incoming and i'm here for it, wishing you all the luck in the world my love

32,103 comments

username7: five years on and I’m still so thankful that lewis has you in his corner yn ❤️

jensonbutton: mercedes is the best team anyway 💙🏎️

username8: it’s taken years but she’s finally convinced 😂

username9: if you ever change your mind I’ll come and be a mercedes girl instead

lewishamilton: thank you for always being my biggest fan my love 💞

ynusername: @/lewishamilton always on your side 😘

username10: another world title pending…

username11: lewis doesn’t need luck, the title is his yn!!

nicorosberg: still can’t believe you’re not wearing my shirt around the paddock 🙄

ynusername: @/nicorosberg last time I checked I wasn’t dating you 🤷🏻‍♀️

username12: this is the level of girlfriend I aspire to be

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liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 1,982,503 others

lewishamilton: yn said we weren't allowed to have children yet so i went and got the next best thing, introducing roscoe 🐶❤️

148,580 comments

username13: omg roscoe is just the cutest 😭😭

ynusername: I already deal with a child every day living with you 😂😂

lewishamilton: @/ynusername stop exposing me like this!!

schecoperez: can’t wait to meet roscoe at the paddock soon!

username14: proudest dog dad ever!

username15: can I also be adopted by lewis and yn like roscoe please???

aussiegrit: how much are you paying poor yn to dogsit during race weekends 🤔

lewishamilton: @/aussiegrit she’s paid in love and affection don’t you worry 😂

username16: YET…there’s hope for the future still!!

valtteribottas: how have you adopted a dog and only just told me now? 😡

username17: roscoe is already my best friend and no one else’s

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liked by maxverstappen1, valtteribottas and 3,491,508 others

lewishamilton: still just as sweet to win all these years on, thank you mercedes fans for your continued support

104,592 comments

username18: true legend of formula 1 🤩

valtteribottas: congratulations, so proud to be your teammate 🏎️

username19: a decade on and still your number one fan!!

maxverstappen1: let someone else have a win for one will you? 😂

ynusername: and I’m still just as proud to see you on the podium as I was all those years ago 💕💕

username20: it’s unfair how talented one man can be 😭

username21: just tell us your secrets pls 😂

username22: all the other drivers wishing that they could be as talented as you!!

kimimatiasraikkonen: couldn’t think of a better guy to be p2 behind ☺️

danielricciardo: can you just retire already and leave us alone??

lewishamilton: @/danielricciardo: you’re stuck with me a little while longer yet

username23: no one else will ever compare to you…

hulkhulkenberg: teach me how to overtake like you 🙏🏻

username24: I’m not prepared for the day we experience f1 without this man 😭

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liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 859,182 others

ynusername: oh yeah...did i mention that i have a husband now?? 🥺

47,620 comments

username25: my two favourite people in the world are married…I can’t cope 😭

danielricciardo: congratulations, couldn’t be happier for the two of you 🥂

valtteribottas: we had the best time celebrating you guys ❤️

username26: how did they manage to get married and keep it an entire secret from the world???

username27: I want to see all the photos asap

landonorris: okay and my invite was where exactly??

ynusername: @/landonorris whoops must’ve got lost in the post somewhere 🤷🏻‍♀️

username28: the ultimate boyfriend material just became ultimate husband material

charles_leclerc: couldn’t have happened to two nicer people 🫶🏻

username29: my heart just skipped a beat with pure happiness for this 🥺

lewishamilton: have I mentioned how proud I am to be your husband? 💞

ynusername: @/lewishamilton I bet not as proud as I am to be your wife!

username30: why do I feel like I’ve been betrayed by not being told this news sooner??

georgerussell63: fyi best wedding I’ve ever been too!!

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liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63 and 2,492,608 others

lewishamilton: our greatest blessing is yet to come, yn and i are so happy to share that we are expecting our very own little one just before christmas...i could not be any happier as we start this new chapter ❤️❤️❤️

149,528 comments

landonorris: ah I’m so happy for you two!!

username31: omg this is just the best news ever!!

username32: my two faves are having a baby 🤯

schecoperez: I’ll make sure to pass all my tips onto you 😂

lewishamilton: @/schecoperez I’ll be needing all of them

username33: I’ve never been happier then I am right now 😭

ynusername: I can’t wait for this next adventure with you 💕

lewishamilton: @/ynusername no one else I’d rather do this with!!

charles_leclerc: cannot wait to meet your little one at the paddock soon!

jensonbutton: being a parent is the best feeling in the world ❤️

username34: I’ve waited so long to see this post and now it’s finally happening 🎉

username35: nobody speak to me for the next nine months

valtteribottas: uncle duties pending…

username36: they’re going to be the best parents I can already tell

carlossainz55: I know how much this means to you two…congratulations!

username37: THIS IS EVERYTHING 🥺

nicorosberg: simply couldn’t be happier, the biggest congratulations 👏🏻

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liked by carmenmmundt, alexandrasaintmleux and 729,501 others

ynusername: the best daddy i could ever dream of our little girl having, on cloud nine right now ⛅️

33,495 comments

lewishamilton: thank you for giving me the greatest gift ever 💞💞

username38: dad lewis is just something else 😭

carmenmmundt: I can’t wait for all the cuddles asap!!!!

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt I cannot wait to introduce you as soon as were at a race 😭

username39: my heart can’t cope with how adorable these photos are

georgerussell63: well these are just a little bit cute eh??

username40: thank you yn for blessing my timeline like this

username41: it’s not fair how one baby can be so cute 🤩

landonorris: this kid is too cute to be lewis’ surely 😂😂

username42: you can just tell she’s already got lewis wrapped right around her finger 😂

charles_leclerc: stop rubbing it in how cute your daughter is 😂

username43: ultimate daddy’s girl right here 🥺🥺

sebastianvettel: these photos are adorable yn, so happy for you guys!

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liked by ynusername, charles_leclerc and 1,492,043 others

lewishamilton: everything in life i do for these guys, everything i've ever wanted and more

42,291 comments

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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

1K notes · View notes

borathae · 7 months ago

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Too Sweet

“You’re too sweet for him, but he can’t get enough of the taste. Even if lately he makes you feel as if he has. Taehyung doesn’t like that you feel this way, showing you that the only drug he ever needs is you.”

Pairing: Gangster!Taehyung x f.Reader

Genre: crime!AU, established relationship!AU, Smut

Warnings: mention of past smoking, mention of murder as well as blood & violence, Dom!Taehyung, sub!Reader, lingerie kink, hand kink, dirty talk, praise, he calls her his slut fondly, he also calls her babygirl and (baby)doll, the title Sir is said like three times, cockwarming in his office chair, desperate sex on top of his office desk, DP of her pussy with his cock & fingers, choking without applying pressure, bondage with his tie, strength kink, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), squirting, he fucks her so good she pees a little jjsjsj, creampie, subby girl tears, he is as gentle with her as he is rough (sexy), smol ownership kink, kinda exhibitionism cause they fuck loudly with his guards outside the doors, hints at female masturbation, allusion to somnophilia, breast play with painless tit spanking, idk if this is warning worthy but he is a little "dismissive" of her feeling neglected by fucking her instead of listening to her, but he apologises healthily in the end and keeps being all "fuck, I misssed you" during sex, cuddles and kisses and praise for aftercare hihi

Wordcount: 5.6k

a/n: this is based on this post and all of you guys' wishes ohoho. it's definitely less on the soft Dom!Tae side because a bitch (me) wrote this during full ovulation bloom and i quite frankly felt like a bitch (dog) in heat ajjajsjs have fun besties 🤎

Taehyung was working late. He is at home for a change and you thought that it would mean you could see him more, but that wasn’t the case. You haven’t seen him at all today, not even in the morning because he locked himself in his office before you woke and during lunch time, he asked one of his men to bring the food to his office. You can’t stand it when he is like this.

You know that Taehyung was a busy man. If he wasn’t gone, tending to missions or assassinating his targets, he was holed up in his office, allowing no one to come in. No one. Not even you, his woman.

You normally don’t mind that he is absent, having your own things to do. But it has been days since you last saw him and you are getting needy. Not only for his attention, but also for his touch. You noticed it starting when you woke up all alone – like always these past few days – with thick, warm slick between your legs and a deep pit in your stomach only his cock could fill. You tried to get rid of it, but no matter how you touched yourself, it wasn’t enough. You missed Taehyung. You missed his touch and how he can turn you into puddy between his fingers. He gets off on the power. Taehyung is twisted like that, giving it to you with a taunting smirk on his lips which so very often makes you shudder. Sometimes he also looks at you as if you were his prey, as if you were one of the many fuckers he tortures on a daily. And you get off to it, craving exactly this look tonight.

Taehyung’s world wasn’t normal or on the bright side of the law. Taehyung’s world was as twisted as him, it was filled with drugs, murder and betrayal and reeked of dirty money and expensive alcohol.

You slithered into it eight years ago with no chance of escaping. It all began when you came home to your younger siblings slaughtered and your belongings missing. Your parents had died years before and as the eldest of four, you took on the role of mother and father for your younger siblings. They were three, six and eleven when they were murdered. You were only twenty. The law didn’t help you. They dismissed it because of too little evidence, called it a case unsolvable and told you to leave when you begged them to continue the search. You met Taehyung in front of the police station. It rained that day and the air smelled of messy endings – or new beginnings, however one might interpret the meeting. He called you to the dark alleyway he was hiding in and offered you a drag of the cigarette he was smoking, which you declined while he took it for you with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

“I can find the killers of your family”, he had told you.

“How do you know what happened to them?” you had asked him.

He pointed at the police station, “I know a lot of things in this city. Things these bastards up there could only dream of knowing. I know your name and that someone killed your three siblings. I also know that your parents died two years ago and that their deaths are connected to these murders.”

“Who are you?” you asked him.

“You can call me Vante, my real name isn’t important”, he told you, not knowing that one day he will have you screaming his real name for him each night as he made the messiest love to you.

“Why are you helping me?”

Taehyung took a drag of his cigarette, exhaled it through his nose. He stepped closer, drawing you in with his eyes. Something sick and twisted glimmered in them and you had found yourself gazing at it in awe.

“Are you taking my help or not? My cigarette is running out and I’m not about to light another one”, he stressed back then, unaware that one day the only drug he will need in his lungs was your air.

Many years have passed since then. The world darkened in these years. Taehyung lost the playful spark he had back then, while you lost the innocence a normal person without criminal ties possessed. You know how a stranger’s blood feels on your hands these days, know how disgusting humans are once they die and their muscles give up and you know the bitter taste of lonely nights when Taehyung stays out longer than planned.

You can’t take the taste anymore. You crave the sweetness of his kiss, the saccharine traces of his touch and the honey timbre of his voice.

Taehyung is locked up in his office and doesn’t let anyone in, but you can’t take it anymore. You have to see him.

Two of his men are guarding the door. Their eyes flit to your cleavage but shoot away instantly, their bodies tense as they try not to look again. Looking at you in the wrong way will cost them their eyes. Taehyung would make sure of that. Just as he made sure that the killer of your family got the ending they deserved. You knew that you were twisted when you felt joy and desire as you watched him slaughter them instead of horror and disgust. You remember fucking him, bloodied and dirty, just beside the bodies of your family’s killer while Taehyung moaned into your mouth, drugged out and high on slaughtering. You haven’t been separated since. Except for these last few days. Fuck, you miss him.

“Master Vante wishes not to be distracted”, his guards try to stop you.

“I want to see him.”

“He told us not to let anyone in. Not even you, Mistress.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest.

“Vante!” you call out.

Moments later the door opens. Taehyung looks at you, then your skimpy outfit, then his guards.

“You told them to keep me outside?” you ask him, cocking a brow at him.

Taehyung glares at his guards. They avoid eye contact, gawking at the front with pearls of anxious sweat on their foreheads.

“Come in”, Taehyung tells you darkly, stepping out of the doorframe.

With a triumphant bounce in your step, you enter his office. The main lights were off, only his green table lamp was on, tinting the room a mixture of orange and green.

Taehyung closes the door and locks it, turning to you quickly to grab your wrist.

“What are you thinking?” he hisses.

“I miss you.”

“And that gives you the right to walk around like this in front of my men?”

You are wearing lingerie and a see-through, short rope. Both blood red in colour. They hug your curves at the best parts and match with the colour of your lipstick.

“Why? What’s wrong with my outfit?” you act oblivious on purpose, craving the fire in his eyes only you can ignite.

Taehyung furrows his brows. The fire burns deep. You, quite frankly, almost moan because of it. This is exactly the warmth you missed these past cold nights.

“I miss you, Tae. I go to bed alone and wake up just as alone. I miss you so fucking much.”

Taehyung clenches his jaw. He slides his hand from your wrist and steps back.

“I have a lot to do”, he says, retreating back to his desk.

The distance is cold. Yes, the years took his playfulness, but they never took his affection for you. His distance is cold because it was never there before.

“Did I do something?” you ask him quietly.

Taehyung lifts his eyes from his papers.

“What makes you think that?”

“You aren’t coming to bed with me anymore.”

“I am. You’re just always sleeping already.”

“You don’t hold me in the morning.”

“I do. You’re just always sleeping still.”

“You lock me out of your office.”

“There’s stuff in here I don’t want you to see.”

“You don’t want to fuck me in this outfit.”

Taehyung purses his lips.

“You normally always do.”

“I want to do the most sinful things to you, don’t mistake my indifference with lack of desire. If I didn’t have so much shit to do, I’d bend you over this desk and fuck days worth of cum into you.”

You moan with your knees buckling. Taehyung watches it happen, allowing you to know it affects him by loosening his tie a little.

“Did you like that?” he asks – rasps.

You nod your head, giving him pleading puppy eyes.

“Come here.”

You obey his orders instantly, hurrying to his desk so you could stand in front of him.

Taehyung spreads his legs, leaning back in his chair. It creaks as he does. He runs his hand over his chin, taking you in with fiery eyes.

“What do you really want?”

“Your touch.”

“Don’t keep stuff from me. Tell me what you want.”

“I want.” You gasp for air. “Oh god, Tae. Don’t make me.”

He darkens his eyes, chewing imaginary gum.

“If you want me to help you, you gotta tell me. You know how deals with me work.”

How could you forget. Making a deal with Taehyung is what brought you here. Letting him find your family’s killer is what made you into the obsessed woman you are today.

You didn’t have to accept his deal back then, but you did. You took the cigarette and finished it in one inhale, sealing not only your deal with him, but also your fate.

“I want you to touch me. I’ve been wet since the morning and I can’t stop it.”

His eyes skim over your crotch. His chest rises and sinks in one deep, affected breath.

“Did you try stopping it?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

You shy away. Taehyung sits up, hovering his hand over your waist without touching you. It aches not to be touched by him.

“Don’t be shy now. Tell me how you took care of it.”

“I touched myself”, you whisper.

Taehyung purrs, “you touched yourself. What a bad girl. I can’t remember giving you permission.”

“You haven’t been there for me for days.”

He smiles. The first of the day. It makes your knees weak.

“So it’s my fault?”

“Yes.”

His smile grows. He follows his hand with his eyes as he travels it along your curves. The touch never comes. It drives you insane to have him so close but still be denied the honey warmth of his hands.

“If I knew how fucking needy you were, I’d have fucked you in your sleep.”

You whimper.

He looks up, meets your eyes in fiery desire.

“I’d have infiltrated your dreams and made you cream my cock before you could even wake up.”

“Please touch me, please”, you beg because you have already reached your breaking point.

He chuckles, chewing gum again.

“I can touch you in lots of ways. Be more specific.”

“Cock. I want cock.”

He leans back in his chair, folding his hands on his stomach nonchalantly. You gawk at them. You crave their touch. Fuck, please.

“Alright”, he says coolly.

“Really?” you gasp, stumbling because your knees actually gave up on you. Taehyung is on his feet instantly, lifting you onto his desk and holding you between his strong hands.

“Careful. Are you okay?” he asks, studying your features worriedly.

Despite all the killing he is doing, all the fighting and rough work, his palms are soft. Feeling them on your skin makes you moan. Finally. His touch heals you.

“I want to be fucked so bad”, you beg.

Taehyung chuckles, “shit, you’re gone for.”

“Please”, you open your legs, showing him your wet panties.

Taehyung licks his lips, gulping heavily. You are soaking the documents under you. Fuck, you haven’t been that wet in ages. Taehyung wants to pump his digits into you, fuck your slickened cunt hard and fast, get his cock creamed. But he holds back. He still has work to do and he knows exactly how to take care of you in a way which still allows him to do what he needs to do.

“Wrists out.”

You obey his orders.

“From now on, your safeword is Red and your life line is humming our song. Understood?” he tells you as he opens his red tie.

“Yes, Sir”, you whimper, leaking all over his desk.

“Good girl. You’re such a good girl when you listen so well.” He pulls your wrists closer, wrapping the tie around them a few times.

You are heaving. You can’t handle how much all of this excites you.

“Too tight?” he makes sure, rubbing your knuckles gently. Each touch he places makes you want to scream. You missed it so much.

“No, just right.”

“That’s good”, he says and lifts your hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles. Each of them. Without breaking eye contact. You are truly puddy in his hands. “You know why I have to do this, don’t you?”

“I touched myself without your permission.”

“Exactly, bad girl”, he says with a playful spark in his eyes.

You have to giggle because of it, writhing on his desk. Off of said desk he lifts you moments later.

He sits back down on his chair and begins unbuckling his slacks.

“Tae”, you moan, pressing your legs together. Finally. Finally. Finally.

He opens his belt, his button, his zipper. He slides his hand inside. Seconds later, it reappears with his cock between his fingers. He’s already hard and throbbing, sitting heavy in his touch.

You ogle him, drooling all over yourself.

“What do you want to do to it?” Taehyung orders you.

“Sit on it.”

“What a naughty girl, mhhhm”, he rolls his head back, arches his back as he puts on a show of jerking himself off.

This is to rile you up, to show you what you currently don’t have.

“Please, can I have it?” you beg, fighting your restrains.

“Mhm, take it.”

“Oh god, oh god.”

You fail to climb on his lap on your own and so Taehyung helps you with a guiding touch. He even pulls your panties aside for you, holding his cock in place as you sink down on him. It squelches wetly.

Taehyung tenses his thighs for just a second, biting down on his lower lip as a deep purr rumbles in his chest.

You totally lose it, falling against his chest with your tied up hands trying to grab his shirt. Your lips press against his neck. He smells masculine and clean.

“Taehyung”, your moan is filled with relief and ecstasy.

“You weren’t lying. You’re so fucking wet.”

You move instantly. Messily and needily. You move. Move. Get stopped.

With both hands dimpling your hips, Taehyung is keeping you still. He ignores your pleading whimpers and your distressed gasps. Instead he rolls closer to his desk and straightens up, picking up his pen.

“That’s perfect. Keep my cock warm like this”, he says nonchalantly.

“Wh-what?” you are out of breath, close to tears. You want cock so bad and you finally have it, but he is denying you to move? Does he want to make you cry? You can’t get any more desperate and yet he wants to prove you wrong.

You lift your head from his neck. Taehyung glances at you.

“You didn’t think that I’d allow you to move after the stunt you pulled, did you?” he taunts, chewing gum again.

“What stunt?”

He stops chewing, lowering his eyes darkly.

“When you showed yourself like this in front of my men. When you touched yourself without my permission. When you barged into my office and accused me of neglecting you.”

“You have been neglecting me.”

“Careful”, he warns, bucking his hips up.

You moan, rolling your eyes back as your body wobbles in defeat.

Taehyung pulls you closer, keeping you steady that way. He fucks into you again, gritting his teeth while you whimper like a happy slut. Your cunt is so fucking puffy, sucking in his cock greedily. Every voice in his head is telling Taehyung to drop his work and fuck you senseless. But he can’t. He has a point to prove.

“I’m allowing you to be in my office and to sit on my cock, but anymore backtalk and I’ll gag you”, he warns even if talking is hard.

You spill tears.

“Please more.”

He wipes your tears, caressing your chin afterwards.

“Patience, I still have to work”, he tells you and looks back at the papers.

“Oh god, please”, you plead, hiding back in his neck. You want to move, but you can’t because he is keeping an iron grip on your hips. All you can do is sit on his lap with his girthy cock deep inside you. And you can’t even run your hands over him. You wiggle them in their restraints, begging against his neck.

“Please Tae, please.”

“Patience. It’s only been half a minute.”

It felt like three hours. You need him pumping into you. Warming his cock isn’t enough.

Time passes. You don’t know how much, but it’s too much for you. All you can concentrate on is his cock. He is so hard inside you. So big and girthy. You were never so aware of being filled than you are currently. You can feel every inch sitting inside you and how he is stretching you out. The pit in your stomach is shrinking but it’s still there because you aren’t allowed to move. You clench your pelvic muscles. Electricity runs through you. This helped. When you tense up, you can feel him press against your sensitive spots.

Dumb in desperation, you start chasing the sensation. You clench, relax, clench, relax. Over and over. It feels so good. You finally have what you had craved for days.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taehyung soon breaks the silence, reminding you that he could feel as well.

You tense up, feeling dizzy. You forgot that it’s noticeable to him when you clench down.

“Mhm? What are you doing?” he stresses, digging his thumb into your softness.

“It hurts.” His touch loosens, but tightens again when you continue whining. “It’s not enough, please let me move.”

Taehyung takes a deep breath, keeps it in for a moment and exhales it in time with his big hand sliding to the small of your back.

He gives it a small push, moving you like this. You shudder instantly, leaking on his cock. He moves you again and you pick up on it instantly, meeting his movements needily.

“Nuh-uh.” He slows you down with just one touch. “Like this. Understood?”

“Yeah”, you whimper, obeying his orders.

“Good girl, such a good girl”, he praises and shifts his attention back to work.

So now he’s got you grinding down on his cock. He is glad that he is sitting because it turns his legs weak. He missed your warmth like nothing else. Concentrating on his work is definitely becoming difficult but he is stubborn. He needs to keep cool a little longer.

You are in a state of ecstasy, panting and drooling against his neck as you finally have what you craved. You have his cock moving inside you. Now granted, the movements are just small grinds back and forth, but it’s like a drug to you. He shifts deep inside you, prods at your puffy walls and swollen good spots and the folds of his slacks are rubbing against your clit. You have his big hand on your back, rubbing circles into your thinly dressed skin. Everything is just perfect. Taehyung might think he is giving you a punishment with such little movements, but you are in fucking heaven. This is exactly what you needed.

Taehyung doesn’t realise the gravity of his mistake up until the point you suddenly tense up and squeak his name. But by then it is already too late. He has you throbbing around him seconds later as you orgasm as if you never had before.

You whimper, trying so hard not to shake and tremble, but Taehyung can feel it nonetheless. It’s squeezing his cock.

“You fucking-”, Taehyung growls, throwing his pen aside. His composure is broken. He stands up with you and swipes his desk clean just so he can lie you down on it. He takes your hands and pins then above your head, staring down at you with crazed eyes and gritted teeth. “You’re such a fucking temptress. How dare you cum like that.”

You are barely present after your high, writhing and twitching on the desk. He thrusts his hips. Consciousness returns. The sensitive, fucked state of you is obvious again.

You squeak his name and arch your back as your eyes finally meet his’. His pupils are blown out, he has a sense of craze in his face.

“I should tie a vibrator to you and leave you shaking by my feet for what you’re doing to me”, he spits as he finally drills his cock into you. Hard and rough. The desk shakes because of it. Your body does as well. “I have work to do and you’re messing with my schedule. I should punish you, but fuck”, he buries himself as deep as possible and write his name against your walls, “you fucked me up. Just wanna pound into you”, he laughs lazily, following it up with a lulled “fuuck.”

“Harder please”, you beg, riding on the high with your head turning.

Taehyung fulfills your wish with a growl. His fingers dig into the softness of your thighs so he can keep you in place as he fucks you into a state of senseless on his desk. You answer his guttural growls with high pitched wails of gratefulness. You finally have what you needed. You have his entire attention. And it feels so fucking good.

It is finally obvious to you how much Taehyung missed you too. He only fucks like that when he hasn’t been with you for a while. He only grips you with such strength when his fingers hadn’t felt your softness in ages. He is only so out of breath when your air hasn’t filled his addicted lungs for some time.

“I missed you”, he gets out.

You meet his eyes. Tears escape you easily. He slows down and leans over you to wipe them gently. A moment of tenderness in the passion. A moment to remind you that he loves no person as much and as deeply as he loves you.

“I missed you so fucking much”, he rasps and slides his hand to your neck to rest on it. No pressure. Just contact. His hips pick up speed, claiming you as his’ in more ways than one.

And you roll your eyes back without closing them, melting into the desk as he rearranges your insides. The pit is finally being filled. The fire is finally burning you again. You are so happy, moaning his name as loudly as possible.

“Yes baby, moan for me. It turns me on. Moan for me.”

His guards just right outside the door are non-existent to you and him right now. The fact that they most definitely can hear you, hasn’t sunk in yet. You and Taehyung are lost in passion. You have to pick up on days of absence, you have to fuck until the desperation is finally gone from your systems. Fuck, you need each other so fucking bad.

“You feel so good, my good girl. Love filling you with my cock. So good, fuck so good. You’re taking me like such a good girl”, Taehyung is babbling. He always gets like this when the sex just hits right. He loses control over his tongue and begins spitting whatever dirty thoughts run through his foggy mind. “My good girl, my fucking slut. Look at you. Fuck.”

His right hand cups your tits, playing with them roughly. The touch is heaven. Even through the material of your lingerie you can feel it.

“Taehyung”, you wail, arching into his touch.

“I hate that you thought I don’t wanna fuck you in this. Shit, I want you like fucking crazy”, he moans and gives your tits a gentle spank. Just hard enough that they jiggle for a moment, but still gentle enough that no pain shoots over your skin.

You still sob and mewl for him, writhing on the desk like a woman brought to her limits. And you are. He is bringing you to your limits, pushing you right past them because he is twisted like that.

“Fuck, you’re cumming again?” he slows down.

“Don’t stop please. Faster!”

And you enjoy every second of it because you are just as twisted. It burns so deep when he is rough during your orgasm and you need it to continue burning.

“Urgh fine”, he is tensing his jaw, furrowing his brows, “you’re so tight. Your pussy’s sucking me off. Shit, ah- babygirl ahm mhh urgh.”

Taehyung wants to crumble on the floor. Every inch of his body is electric. You have him so high. And it doesn’t stop. His cock is throbbing. He swears he hasn’t been that hard in ages. He might actually pass out from how much blood is shooting to his dick. But he’s got a deal to fulfil. He promised you relief and Taehyung isn’t going to disappoint. He isn’t the type to break deals. No matter how much they ruin him. And you are ruining him like nothing else.

You are so tight after your high, so wet that it is difficult for his cock not to slip out. It’s squelching out of you, messing up not only your connected bodies but his desk as well.

“You’ll be the death of me”, he gets out.

“More.”

“More?” he squeaks out, following it up with a disbelieved laugh, “how much hotter do you wanna be burn?”

“Until I’m reduced to piles of ash”, you croak and grab his wrist with your tied hands. You guide it to your middle.

Taehyung picks up on your silent message instantly, rubbing circles into your puffy clit.

“No”, you mewl, “stick them in, please.”

Taehyung growls needily. He gets a little dumb in pleasure when you reach the point where you beg for what you want without shame. He is so obsessed with you it’s crazy.

Taehyung slows down to make it easier and slips one of his fingers into your cunt. The tightness makes both of you gasp.

“I’m going insane, fuck”, Taehyung croaks, staring at the pretty view obsessively. His huge cock inside you, his finger right beside it, your puffy lips moving around him and your red lace panties stretching against his shaft. “You’re so stuffed with me. Does it feel good to you?”

“Another.”

“Shit, you’re actually killing me.”

His second digit fills you just as easily, pressing against your swollen g-spot. You whimper and squirm, tensing around him. He glances at your face. It is scrunched up, skin glistening in a layer of sweat and pleasurable tears.

“Too much?” he makes sure.

“No, perfect. Please move”, you squeak out.

Taehyung huffs out air, giving you exactly what you ask of him. The friction is unbearable, the pressure around his cock is making his knees shake but he keeps moving. You are moaning so prettily for him, stretching your tied up arms above your head as if you wanted to reach for the stars he is making you see.

“My perfect woman. Urgh my…pretty….slut….my princess, urgh…is this what you…wanted?”

“Yes, yes, yes”, you squeal and keen, glowing in happiness.

“So beautiful, I’m going insane”, he moans and wraps his unoccupied hand around your neck again. No pressure, just warmth. He doesn’t have to squeeze down to let you know that you belong to him. Not that you need a reminder. You belong to him willingly.

It was over for you the moment your eyes locked. You had been his’ ever since you shared this fateful cigarette in the dark alleyway while the rain poured down on you. You are his’. No amount of distance will ever change this.

His hand around your throat is nothing but a warm reminder that he feels the same. His palms are soft, his heavy rings are hard and warmed up from his body heat. The touch is so tender, contradicting to what his other hand was currently doing to you. He is curling his long fingers as best as your tight walls allow him to, matching the rhythm with that of his eager hips. You stopped moaning because you lost the connection to your voice. Breathe. You have to concentrate on breathing otherwise you might pass out.

“Fuck, I can feel you clenching again. My good girl, taking me so well and looking so pretty doing it. Shit, my slut, fuck sorry I meant my pretty girl. Urgh baby, are you cumming again?”

You give him a small, fragile squeak then break on his digits and cock. You squirt all over him within seconds, screaming his name because it is all you can do.

“Yes fuck.” He abandons your neck and presses down on your stomach to the point where you can’t tell whether he is still making you squirt or you are already pissing yourself. You don’t mind, riding the feeling with messy tears and a snotty nose. His documents and clothes are ruined, but you can’t stop.

“Give me everything, that’s my good babygirl. I love it when you fucking wet yourself like that. Shit, I can’t do this for long anymore. Getting sensitive, mh-hm.”

“Please cum inside.”

His hips falter.

“Please, please, ah! Please!” you beg him, making up for the loss of movement by wiggling your hips until he finally picks up his rough pace again.

Taehyung leans down, pinning you against the desk with his bigger frame. He slips his fingers free from your tight cunt, so he can wrap his arm around you. His left hand closes around your throat, his lips are pressed to your ear as he talks dirty to you.

“I’m gonna cum so good for you, doll. I saved up so much for you. Gonna fill you up with all of it until you’re dripping.”

“Please, please, please”, you beg with tears in your eyes.

“Yeah? You want this cum?”

“Yes please, yes please.”

“Shit babygirl, urgh”, Taehyung growls through gritted teeth, squeezing down on your neck as he empties his heavy balls into your cunt.

You can feel it shoot out of him and cover your walls to the point where you can’t keep it inside anymore. It drips onto the floor, messing up his cock and balls.

“Take my cum. Fuck, such a good girl. You’re made for my cum, urgh fuck”, Taehyung talks himself through it, holding you against him in his strong, protective arm. And you wail his name, wishing for his sticky cum to stay inside forever.

He slacks against you after his high, dropping with a whimper of your name.

“What the fuck, woah”, he gets out, trembling in the aftershocks. “Are you okay?”

“Yes”, you get out weakly.

“I kid you not. Fuck”, he exhales deeply. “Put your arms around me.”

You obey his orders, mewling weakly when he lifts you off the desk and sits you down on him as he sinks into the chair in defeat. His cum oozes out and squelches everywhere, but it’s only a little amount compared to how much was still inside you.

He slacks against the chair, gazing up at you with half lidded eyes. Sweat makes his hair stick to his forehead. He unties your hands.

“Do they hurt?”

“No”, you assure him, touching him instantly. He feels so strong and warm under your hands. His heart is racing so much. You needed this reminder. The reminder that you can still raise his pulse.

Taehyung closes his eyes halfway. “I love you”, he lulls, following it up with a smile.

“I love you too”, you whisper, lowering your eyes just sadly enough that he worries.

He furrows his brows, tilting your head up with two fingers under your chin.

“What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head.

“Talk to me.”

“Can I be kissed?”

His features soften.

“You’re so cute. Of course you can. Come here, babydoll”, he says and slides his big hand to the nape of your neck to guide you into a kiss.

You melt into it with a fluttering heart and no thought in your brain except the repeated cheers about how much you love him. You roll your hips down into him. He tenses up, breaking the kiss with a whiney chuckle.

“What are you doing?”

“Please don’t go back to working, please I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

“I won’t work, just…” He arches his back. “Give me time to recover, ah too sensitive.”

“Please Tae”, you beg, grinding down on him despite his begs.

“Fuck, did I really neglect you that much that you can’t be satisfied no matter what I do?” he groans.

“Yes”, you get out and pull him into a kiss.

“I’m sorry. Shit, gotta make it up to you then”, he mumbles between kisses, hugging you against him as you giggle into the kisses. “Come here you adorable temptress you.”

“Ah Tae. Wait. That tickles”, you squeak in laughter as you and he lose yourselves in a tingly, passionate dance of grinding, kisses and love bites.

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starsofang · 3 months ago

Text

CALL OF THE SEA / PART SEVENTEEN

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, degrading, mentions of death/blood, dove is called some nasty words, please heed warnings for this chapter masterlist a/n: girlbossed a little too hard and finished the chapter a day early. posting this after my 14 hour shift with nothing but hope and dreams. this chapter is a long one, i think the longest one so far, so have fun :p

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

Up close, Graves was even more sinister than imagined. It was as if you were living in your own nightmare come to life, with beady eyes crinkling back at you as a curled smile stretched over his face. Adorned in all black from head to toe, with the only spouts of color being the mess of dark blonde atop his head, nearly covered by the old, leather pirate hat.

His skin was deathly pale, a feat you knew to be from his reaping sins. To take a life in return for a piece of his—a soul bind.

If he weren’t such a sick man, you’d dare say he’d been handsome, if it weren’t for the look of rotting to the core. His personality did no justice, something cocky and mighty. He knew exactly how to play his game, and he played it well.

In your turmoil, you dared to wonder if all of this was indeed another nightmare. Perhaps you were still asleep, stuck in an endless loop until Soap or Gaz awoke you as they always did; but with a sharp pinch on your thigh beneath the thin covers of Price’s bedspread, the world remained at ease.

This one wouldn’t be easy to get out of.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Graves mused, smile so wide you worried the corners would crack and bleed. You wished you could see him writhe like a helpless roach beneath your shoe. “Why the long face?”

“How—” You swallowed, fisting the sheets. “How are you here?”

Graves stood straight, glancing around the room. He pretended to ponder, holding his arms up to shrug. “I let myself in.”

Your eyes followed his every move as he slowly stepped throughout Price’s quarters, taking it in. You sat as still as a statue, completely frozen in place. The sound of his heavy boots along the wood floors rang alarm bells.

The air in the room fell icy cold, rising goosebumps on your skin. There was that frigid chill that felt as if you’d just stepped into a slaughterhouse, a hint of decay tickling your nostrils.

This was the feel of death you’d always felt, lingering behind you, watching. He’d always been there, even if only in your mind.

“Where is the Captain?” you asked, attempting to make your voice firm. Show no weakness—it was the very thing you’d been taught since your first day on the ship. You hoped Price would be proud that you remembered.

Graves’ eyebrows raised and while his smile remained, it only seemed to glimmer with excitement when the question was asked, as if you asked a dog if he wanted a bone.

“He truly has you on a leash,” he snickered, finding something amusing in all of it. “You’re like their little bitch, aren’t you?”

Your blood ran hot at the demeaning nature his words brought, but you knew better. They were for show, something to make him appear taller. If you fell for it, you’d only be digging a deeper grave for yourself.

“No,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I am a pirate, just as them.”

Graves barked out a laugh, one that made your ears bleed. It was meant to deplete your confidence, poisoned with arrogance.

“Is that right?” he asked with a shit-eating grin. “A pirate, are you?”

Graves stalked towards you, agonizingly slow, stopping when his knees bumped the side of the cot. He leaned down so his face was level with yours, empty eyes peering deep within your soul. His breath reeked of death and despair, nearly knocking you unconscious.

“I’d like to test that.”

His icy hand wrapped around your bicep, hauling you out of the bed. With a yelp, you stumbled to your feet, bare of their shoes. The world beneath your soles felt foreign now, ever since Soap had given you your gift and you’d never take them off unless you were falling asleep.

The grip was tight, causing your heartbeat to thump through your muscles angrily. Your skin under his hand paled from the sheer force.

Graves tugged you along as you fought to resist him, squirming and attempting to plant your feet to the floor. Without the help of your shoes compared to his unruly strength, your fight was deemed useless. He continued dragging you, so much so you could feel little splinters begin to dig into your soles and invoke dull pangs of pain.

Fear filled your body from head to toe, your heart pounding against your rib cage. A lump filled your throat, coated with anxiety. Your mind filled with millions of thoughts, smothering any confidence you previously had and replacing it with the idea of death.

Was this where all would end? Your crew was one of the most feared among the seas, a healthy bounty placed over their heads. But there would always be one person above, and that person was Graves.

Every kick, bump, resist was fruitless as Graves hauled you to the door. What lay beyond it terrified you, images of your men dead flashing before your eyes.

Coated in their own bloodbaths, bodies laid limp amongst the floors of their own homes, sprawled out as if they meant nothing. Oh, you couldn’t bear it. You’d have to go, too—you’d have nothing left.

When Graves opened the door, you weren’t sure if the sight was any better.

It was dark, the moon only a sliver in the sky, granting no room for light. A single lantern was all that was left to cast orange shadows, its fire flickering in a dance for a way out.

Your crew was lined shoulder to shoulder, on their knees in a submissive front, hands bound with thick rope behind their backs. Graves’ men, his Shadows, held the barrel of their guns to each of their heads.

Though the sight was an improvement from what you initially prepared yourself for, it was far from good. It was bordering those images, a glimpse into what could be a massacre.

The moment you were out of Price’s quarters, Graves let go of you, shoving you. You lost your balance, tumbling to your side, your head slamming into the deck. Pain blossomed under your skull and you hissed in pain.

“Dove?” you heard one of them call out. Your head spun, making it hard to figure out who it was.

A heavy blow landed on your side where you lay, and you wheezed, Graves’ boot unexpected. It kept you in place, applying pressure to guarantee you wouldn’t try to flee and fight back.

“Get the fuck off of her,” Price growled. You could recognize it, filled with a burning venom that dared to kill anyone that was in its crossfire. “This has nothin’ to do with her.”

“It’s all to do with her,” Graves spat, digging the toe of his boot into your rib cage. His previous cockiness had melted away, revealing his boiling rage. “Isn’t that right, dove?”

Graves lifted his boot, granting you a brief moment of relief before it slammed back down. It knocked the air right out of your lungs, leaving you croaking out a plea to stop.

You coiled in on yourself, curling into a ball in attempts to lessen the damage. It did nothing to stop his boot from weighing on your side. The pain felt like nothing you’d experienced before, and you were sure you felt a bone crunch.

“Dove,” Gaz called out, frantic. He tried leaning forward to get a glimpse of your face, to search for your eyes, but the barrel of the gun only pressed deeper into the back of his skull in warning. “Dove, it’s okay. Just listen to my voice, alright? I’m right here.”

Your eyes were widened with fear, chest heaving to catch the breaths that were stolen from you. You couldn’t move, frozen in place, even as Gaz called out for you with the threat of a bullet through his head.

“I don’t know what you’re plannin’, Graves,” Price snarled, “but this is between us.”

Graves laughed diabolically, throwing his head back. It only made everything much more tense.

“Isn’t she apart of you now?” Graves humored, cocking his head. His fingers drummed along the gun in its holster on his hip. “If I’m not mistaken, she’s a pirate. I believe those were your words, Price.”

The realization that Graves knew had you going cold. The closer he got, the stronger the connection became.

“What the hell is it ye want?” Soap asked through gritted teeth. His eyes were darting back and forth between your crumpled form and Graves. “S’always somethin’ with ye, aye?”

Graves eyed Soap, a glint in his gaze. There was something unfamiliar in it, as if he held a personal grudge towards the man in question.

“There is something I want,” Graves agreed, letting out a dramatic sigh. He tapped at the gun once again, staring up at the sky in thought. “I think dove here knows exactly what that is.”

Graves dug his boot once again, peering down at you as if you were scum. You couldn’t stop the small whimper from the agony drumming in your side.

“Go on, dove,” Graves taunted, grinning. “Tell them.”

“I don’t know,” you panted. You were unfocused, eyes staring at the old floor from where your head rested.

You tried recalling what it is he could want, anything at all, but nothing was becoming clear. You scavenged through the deepest parts of your brain for even a simple clue, but the blows had made you dazed.

“I swear, I’ll fuckin’ kill you—”

“You do know,” Graves repeated, cutting off the Captain. His tone grew annoyed. “Think real hard, dove.”

“I don’t know,” you cried, shoulders beginning to shake. All the built up confidence to fight back had vanished into thin air. Now, you felt like a scared little girl, begging for mercy.

Graves’ boot lifted, then returned back down. A string of curses were thrown his way from your crew, who were thrashing in the binds, unable to aid you under the lineup of guns to their heads.

You felt wetness cascade down your cheeks, dampening your skin and falling down to the side of your head from the angle you laid. It was then you realized you were crying, embarrassingly so.

Only mere hours ago you were deemed a pirate, and yet at the start of war, you fell apart like a damsel.

“The telescope,” Ghost said, voice low. It was the first he’d spoken, only sitting there silently as you were beaten down. His head hung low, as if ashamed, though the darkness in his eyes was enough to cast doom across entire continents. “He’s talkin’ about the telescope.”

You blinked away the tears, eyes burning. Realization dawned on you the moment Ghost spoke. Through your huddled position, you tried to tilt your chin down to meet his eye. As if thinking the same thing, he lifted his head, connecting your gazes. You could see that familiar apology pooling out of him, expressing everything he needed to say.

Washed away to land and shore,

shall be the looking glass for ocean eyes.

The telescope you found for Gaz was an innocent gesture. The sight of it called out to you, as if meant to be owned by you. If you would’ve known it was Graves it was calling, you would’ve thrown it into the deep sea so it could never be found again.

“So he speaks,” Graves mused sarcastically.

Ghost broke contact first, eyes boring into Graves. He looked murderous, plotting his own bloodbath with just a simple look. The dim light of the single lantern did nothing to lessen the ominous glow, only highlighting it.

“Don’t fuckin’ talk to him,” Soap hissed, scowling. The look of pure disgust was such a contrast to his normal, boyish grins.

Graves paid no mind to him, stuck in a contest with Ghost. The two of them had a dark force swirling between them, one that even outside made the air heavy and suffocating.

“A point for your bravery, Ghost,” Graves sighed dramatically, breaking his stare. He looked between each and every man, sparing you no glance while his boot remained in place. “My telescope. Give it to me, and I’ll let her go.”

You instantly shifted your eyes to look at Gaz, who seemed to be struggling with a decision. You knew why he was having a hard time—you gifted the telescope to him, unknowing of who it truly belonged to. It was something he treasured, something he didn’t want to let go of.

“I have it,” Gaz said lowly, head bowing. “It’s in my quarters. I’ll take you to it.”

Graves sucked his teeth, feigning pity. He shook his head, hand fully resting on the gun at his hip. “Not going to work on me, Gaz. I’m quite capable of getting it myself. You sit tight, aye?”

Gaz stiffened, expression growing grim. Nevertheless, he said nothing, deciding silence was the best contender for a fight bound to end in loss.

Graves gestured for the man behind Price to fetch the telescope from Gaz and Soap’s shared quarters. Price didn’t tear his eyes away from Graves once, even as the Devil of the Seas took out his own gun and pointed it right at Price’s forehead.

He pressed the barrel of the gun into Price’s forehead, indenting the skin. It was a snug fit, a perfect shot for Graves if he wished to end things the easy way.

Graves didn’t like it easy. He liked it fun.

“Scared we’ve caught on to your trail, aye?” Price bluffed, voice gravelly and malicious. “That’s why you came out here like a fuckin’ mutt, hidin’ in the storm until you found the right time to ambush us?”

“You have your dove to blame,” Graves replied nonchalantly, rubbing his boot back and forth along your side. The pressure had you sucking air through your teeth, eyes clenching shut. “She might be your new toy, but she’s just as much a mutt as I am.”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth,” Price snarled, body shaking with feverish rage. If he could pounce on Graves, you knew he would.

“Looks like you finally grew some balls, Captain,” Graves snickered, pulling back the hammer of the gun. It resounded a loud click, which translated to a warning bell in Price’s favor. “Such anger. That anger has never worked for you, Price. It didn’t work for Ghost—it won’t work for her.”

Price let out an animalistic growl, his lips pulling back in a sneer. You’d seen the Captain angry, and you’d seen him under the guise of a scary, ominous pirate who would kill any innocent bystander that stood in his way.

This was entirely different. This was personal. A build up. This was a storm that had been coming for ages, and you were only toeing the edges.

The Shadow returned, holding the telescope you’d gifted Gaz. It shimmered in the lantern’s glow, glinting its gold details and showing it off. It felt like a goodbye.

“I’d be real careful from now on, Graves,” Price warned. It was the first you ever heard him speak so menacingly, like the demon inside of him was erupting with a stream of hot lava filled with nothing but spewing hatred. “When I find you, I’ll fuckin’ kill you myself. String you up on my sails until you’re dry, toss you into the ocean to the sharks. I’ll take pleasure in watchin’ you burn until there’s nothin’ left but ash and dust.”

Graves took the telescope from his Shadow’s hand, inspecting it. The words Price spoke clearly struck a nerve, for the arrogant grin had vanished, replaced with a gloomy, threatened expression.

“Hm,” Graves huffed, letting his gun fall and placing it back in its holster. He signaled for his men to follow suit, and you watched as all weapons dropped. “I await the day that happens, Captain. Until then, keep your mutt on a leash, aye?”

Graves made no effort to untie the crew, leaving them bound as he gathered his men to walk the plank connecting the two ship. A long, woden plank that creaked under the weight, one od wish you could kick from its balance and send them flying into the dark sea.

The moment was brutally silent as they left. Nobody moved a muscle until Graves was on his ship, the plank pulled from its placement, and the skull flag waved goodbye as they set sail into the pit of the night.

Time stood still, but the second Graves and his crew were hidden in the waves, all hell broke loose. Price and Gaz worked together to unbind each other with their backs to one another, frantic to be released. Ghost sat silently, eyes staring into the floorboards as if they’d speak to him.

“Say somethin’, dove,” Soap begged, scooting on his knees to be by your side.

As if the dam broke, you began to cry once more, heartbreaking sobs coming right from your core. You curled up tighter into your ball, your hand resting on your side as if it would magically ease the pain.

“It hurts,” you replied, voice cracking.

You’d stayed strong up until that point. Now, you couldn’t hold up your front.

You were scared. You felt more helpless than ever. You couldn’t remain strong for the sake of pretend anymore. Everything hurt, and Graves’ presence shook you to your very core.

“I know,” he cooed. He made a frustrated noise when he struggled against the binds. “I know, dove. We’re right here, alright?”

It felt strange, being on the other side of the spectrum. You were used to being the one to aid people in their injuries, but now, it was you being comforted. You couldn’t grasp what your life had become.

Price was released from his binds, quickly helping Gaz slip out of his. While Gaz made quick work to move to work on Ghost, Price was by your side in an instant.

One hand rested on your hip, turning your body towards him while the other found your face, resting his palm on it. His eyes were filled with worry when you faced him and he urgently wiped at your tears with his thumb.

“Dove,” he breathed in relief, his heart aching at the sight of you so broken. This was his fault. “You’re okay, I have you.”

You whimpered when he shifted so he could slide his arms beneath you, one under your shoulders and the other in the bend of your knees. The movement flared pain all over again, and Price murmured apologies, unsure of what to do.

He hurried to his quarters, his men following closely behind like scared dogs with their tails between their legs. Gaz held open the door, and you only caught a glimpse of his guilt-stricken expression before you were ushered in.

Price carefully slid you on to his cot, wincing every time you whimpered or cried. The pain felt excruciating, your breathing quick and labored.

“She needs a medic,” Soap stressed.

“She is a medic,” Gaz reminded, resting his hands on the edge of the cot so he could lean over and inspect your face. “We have no help besides her.”

“Well, she can’t treat herself, ye fuckin’ oaf,” Soap snipped, shooing him away from your space. “Cap, she needs to get checked. She can’t even breathe properly!”

Your head began to pound from the sheer loudness that filled the room. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will away the ache while simultaneously trying to correct your breathing.

You knew well enough that there was something shattered or broken. A rib, though small in theory, but dreadfully painful without the correct medicines. Not to mention the amount of force Graves had used—it was pure hell.

Price was silent, as was Ghost, the two of them sharing a conversation with just a look. There was an understanding shared, and Price gently shoved Gaz and Soap aside, replacing them.

He mimicked Gaz’s previous stance, leaning on the bed. His hand came to brush a stray tear away, frowning embedded in his mouth.

“Tell me what to do, dove,” he said softly. “I’ll do whatever it is.”

You sniffled, hand shaking where they rested on your side. You shook your head, nearly deranged from the shock and horror of it all, unable to snap out of it.

“I—I can’t fix it on my own, Captain,” you quivered, lips trembling. “It hurts.”

Price nearly broke, filled with guilt. He glanced behind him at Ghost, who quickly looked away, hands balling into fists.

“I know,” he assured calmly, brushing his finger along your cheek where he wiped the tear away. “We’ll fix it, aye? You just have to sit tight until we can. Can you do that for us, dove?”

Though you knew the wait would be cruel—a slow healing process until you could receive proper care—you found yourself nodding shamelessly, instantly trusting Price and his promises.

Price nodded along with you, giving your cheek a comforting pinch. “Attagirl,” he praised, calming your nerves.

“I’ll fuckin’ gut him,” Soap muttered, jaw pulled tight. “He’s fuckin’ dead.”

Gaz reached up to grip Soap’s nape, tugging at his hair. Soap threw him a glare, one Gaz promptly ignored, turning his attention to you.

“Listen to Cap, birdie,” Gaz encouraged warmly. “We’ll get you all fixed up. You won’t even know you’re hurtin’.”

Price had a look of hesitation when you caught his eye. You furrowed your eyebrows, frowning in confusion before he spoke again, causing you to grow uncomfortable.

“We need to check it first, dove,” he said apologetically. “If you don’t feel well with all of us bein’ here, you can pick who you prefer. No hard feelin’s, hm?”

The idea that one, if not all, had to see you undressed in order to inspect the damage was one that made you a bit dazed. You’d never been seen beneath your raggedy clothes in the village, and the same applied for your time on the ship. It felt sacred, like your vulnerability was on the line, but you had to remind yourself that it was purely medical—you’d done it plenty of times when in practice at your old home.

“It—it is fine, just… just turn away, yes?” you pleaded, unable to meet any of them in the eye.

You heard a round of shuffling, only seeing Gaz elbow Soap in the corner of your vision. Once you were sure they feasted their eyes upon the old wall, you began to carefully lift your hips, biting your lip to muffle the pained noise that threatened to leave.

The hem of your dress was swiftly pulled up past your thighs, all the way until your torso was exposed. You stopped it beneath your breasts, quick to tug the blanket over your nakedness that remained uninjured and in no need to be checked.

The anxiety that pooled in your stomach left you queasy, but you toughed through it, knowing how important it was. If you had more than a mere fracture, it could become worse over time.

“Okay,” you said quietly, cringing when they turned to take you in. The men did their best to make you feel as at ease as possible, gearing their focus towards the nasty swelling on your side.

You dared to take a peek yourself, fearing for why they were so quiet. What you saw was ugly—swollen and puffy, beaten to the point it was already turning purple and blue. It was tender to the touch, even more so without clothing as a barrier.

The worst was the gnarly, black veins that spouted out like roots, dipping deep into the new bruising. It was inhuman, something completely out of the ordinary. You knew it was Graves’ dirty work, and it reminded you of when Ghost had cut his finger in the kitchen and his blood turned black, vanishing into thin air.

When you shifted your eyes from your injury, you searched for Ghost’s, who was hard-stuck on the veins. His body was tense, a darkness swirling in his irises.

“Ghost?” Soap tried, nudging the brute lightly. “Any idea what that is?”

Ghost glanced over to Soap before returning to your side, taking in the sight. “Could be anythin’,” he muttered, unsure. “I don’t know what all he’s capable of. For all we know, it could already be infected.”

“Infected?” you asked, a worried chill racking through you.

Price reached out a careful hand to spread his fingertips along the veins. You choked on a gasp at the immediate discomfort, face scrunching up into a wince.

“We’re goin’ to a doctor,” Price nearly growled, taking his hand away. “I don’t care where. The moment we spot land, we’re goin’.”

“We still have bounties on our head, Cap,” Gaz reminded with a frown. “We can’t just go anywhere. It’s not the same as shoppin’. If we end up in the wrong place, we might get ourselves in deeper shit.”

“That is a risk I’m willin’ to take,” Price argued, firm in his stance. “If we start nitpickin’ where to go, it might be too late. You’re either in or out.”

The room fell silent as the men stared at their Captain. The answer to them was obvious, though you knew why they hesitated; if they were imprisoned, it would do you no good.

Emotions were high and the clock was ticking. It placed everyone on edge.

“I agree with Price.”

All heads turned to Ghost, who stood with his arms crossed, eyes boring into yours.

“It’s my fault she’s marked. So long as she gets fixed up, I could care less about bein’ thrown into a cell. I’m with Price,” he finished.

“Ghost—” you tried.

“I am quite firm in what I’ve decided,” he interrupted harshly before realizing his mistake, calming himself down. He looked away from you, crossing his arms a bit tighter. “I’m in no mood for arguments.”

You went quiet, watching Ghost turn towards the door and plot his escape. You knew out of everyone, he was affected the most, tormented with sickening guilt for all that’s transpired. You could only imagine how he felt, now that times had grown darker.

“Let him go,” Soap murmured softly, gaining your attention. “He’ll be alright. Let’s just worry ‘bout ye, aye?”

You were torn, but you nodded nonetheless, silently agreeing.

“You’ll stay with me for now,” Price explained. “No use in movin’ you anymore than I have. I’ll get you situated for now, and then you can rest.”

Gaz, Soap, and Price muttered amongst themselves, discussing a brief plan of what to do. The two set off to find more pillows to extend your comfort while Price remained by your side, plopping himself in his chair with a heavy sigh. His elbows rested on its arms, his fingers coming up to rub at his temple.

He looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes becoming more prominent the longer you looked.

“I am sorry, Captain,” you said quietly, eyes glueing to the ceiling.

“What have you got to be sorry for?” he asked, frowning. “Got nothin’ to apologize for, dove. Our worry stems from care.”

“Yes, but,” you paused, gathering the words, “I have caused much trouble since my arrival. Things only seem to be harder for you.”

“Life was hard before you, dove,” he assured, letting his hand fall from his face. “That’s the way it goes. It is to no fault but the world.”

You took in his words, letting them sink in. You hadn’t known a true life of trouble before, the only hardships being your utter loneliness and daily taunts from the local villagers. This was something beyond your knowledge, and you were beginning to understand that there was more to life than simply displeasuring people. There was more than what meets the eye, but there was also light at the end of every tunnel.

“You do not see me as a mere burden?” you asked, and he huffed.

“What have I told you before?” Price pressed in return, tilting his head. “You are one of us. A true pirate, if that is what you’d like.”

“I am far from a pirate,” you scoffed to yourself, ashamed. “I could not even defend myself or any of you.”

“Dove,” Price called out softly. He scooted his chair closer to your bedside, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. “A loss is not always a failure. Some wars are too big to handle on your own. There’s nothin’ wrong with that. Why must you speak so lowly of yourself?”

You stared at him unblinking, studying the furrow of his eyebrows and the curl of his lips, hidden beneath his beard. The worry lines on his forehead showed years of hardship, and you wondered how he managed to live through it if you could barely survive your own smaller ones.

“I have known nothing else,” you confessed bitterly, though not towards him. You were angry, not only with yourself, but at life for dealing its deck of cards in such an unfair way.

“I see,” he hummed, leaning back in his chair. He tapped his fingers along the armrests, getting lost in thought. “It was the same for me as well.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

“Mhm,” he sighed, picking at the splintering wood of the armrests. “My father was a captain before me. Had the tongue of a devil. Always angry, always cold—treated me like scum, even as a child.”

“I am sorry,” you murmured quietly. Price bristled, frowning.

“That is not the point, dove,” he replied. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the side of the bed, mere inches away from where you laid. You waited patiently for him to continue, keeping your gazes connected to show you were listening. “Some may treat you like a mutt on the street and deem your worth how they please. The only thing that matters is how you take it and how you come out of it.”

It dawned on you what he was implying. It was his way of comforting you, shielding you from your own burdening insecurities that never seemed to escape your mind.

“I could’ve remained angry and bitter, but now I captain my own ship and crew. The same applies for you—you may have experienced cruelty all your life, but you must take the reins on your own worth and decide what it is, dove.”

A blinding warmth shrouded you, like a blanket after being trapped in the icy cold, and you welcomed it with a smile. You’d never known Price to be so well with words, not int he way he was expressing now.

He knew what you needed to hear after being trapped in your own world of darkness, and he provided the light you needed to find your way out—all of them did. A glimmer of hope in a world full of loss.

“I am very thankful you kidnapped me,” you blurted, unable to contain your inner thoughts.

Price laughed, boisterous and loud, a smile washing over his face. It was a lovely sight, one that made your heart pound. Even through your pain, you found solitude in the aftermath, reaching a level of comfort you’d always wished to feel.

“I am happy to have you here despite it,” Price teased warmly. “I can say the same for the rest.”

You laughed, almost immediately regretting it at the shooting pain coursing in your side. He shot you a sympathetic smile, slowly standing from his chair.

“I will let you rest,” he said, giving you a gentle pat to your thigh over the blanket. Your heart jumped at the action, and you repressed it.

“You are not staying?” you asked, deflating.

“Soap and Gaz will be here with some more pillows soon. I must gather a plan so we can get you to a medic as soon as possible.”

It made sense, and you knew it was important. There was no telling what was flowing through the black veins, but your heart longed for more of his presence.

“Just for a moment longer?” you dared to request, voice small.

Price peered down at you from where he stood over you, a hint of surprise flashing on his expression before it softened. He nodded, reaching over to give your hand a gentle squeeze. You held on as long as you could.

“Just a moment then,” he repeated. “I will do it for you.”

You squeezed his hand in return, feeling as if you were on cloud nine. Your feelings were uncertain, but the more you spent with them, the clearer your vision became. It was an inner battle, forcing yourself to push them back in order to protect yourself. Now, though, you decided to allow yourself the comfort, just for a little while.

“Thank you,” you told him, unaware your voice had become a mere whisper. The air between you felt heavy, as if something unspoken was there.

Price glanced down at your hands that remained interlinked before shifting his gaze back at you. The gears in his mind were turning, and just as you were about to ask if it was alright, he beat you.

“I am not an emotional man,” he murmured quietly, seeming just as unsure as you were. “I make very stupid decisions and take paths I shouldn’t take. One of them is tellin’ me to kiss you, and I’m not sure if that’s alright.”

You froze in place, eyes growing wide. You were unable to look away, lost in your own little moment. Everything in you was yelling yes, yes, yes! and it was hard to ignore. You had always been weak in your feelings.

“Gaz tried to when I gifted him the telescope,” you said, unsure of why you did. “I hope that is okay.”

Price broke out into a smile, huffing out a breathy laugh. “So long as he did not beat me to it.”

You released a relieved breath, a shaky smile spreading on your lips. Price did not seem angry, and for that, you grew more enticed for a kiss. While your feelings for the others were all different in their special ways, having Price be the first was not something you could deny. It excited you more than it should.

Before you knew it, Price leaned down, capturing your lips in his own. There was no spark like you’d read in books you’d read at merchant stands when you couldn’t afford them, nor were there fireworks.

Instead, it was a calm sea that smothered you in peace, easing every worry that crowded your mind. They washed away, replaced with a warm buzz.

He was gentle, hand still grasping yours, the other coming to rest beneath your jaw. His skin was hot to the touch, rough from the callouses on his palm.

The moment wasn’t long, and when he pulled away, you wished you could reel him in for more.

“Rest,” he encouraged, his smile brighter than a thousand suns. “We’ll get you fixed up and better before you know it, alright?”

You nodded dumbly, your head empty. You were practically vibrating with excitement, the feel of his lips still tingling on yours.

He stroked his thumb over your cheekbone before pulling back, stepping away from the bed. He gave you a soft farewell, reminding you that the boys will be back soon and to try and sleep until then.

Once he was out of the room, the quiet didn’t bother you. It wasn’t maddening, driving you up a wall, suffocating you with loneliness—it was peaceful and kind, welcoming you with open arms as you slipped into unconsciousness, the images flashing behind your eyelids of the four of them in your life only bringing you true comfort after the storm.

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paradlselost · 26 days ago

Text

. ⋮ ULTRAVIOLENCE .ᐟ ֹ

doctor phosphorus x female reader

⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ fun fact i’ve wanted to eat uranium for a long time so he is the worlds most perfect man to me . also sorry for not writing anything in so long , i’ve been busy and jumping from hyperfixation to hyperfixation for a while now as you can see by my unfinished mouthwashing fanfics . but i watched the show last night and he is my favorite and there’s almost nothing about him so i had to . enjoy !

⎨ 𝐂𝐖 ⎬ monster ! reader , mentions of body dysmorphia and imposter syndrome / depersonalization , religious trauma + blasphemy ( cause i can’t help myself ) specifically in catholicism , catholic rituals , depictions of eating raw meat , depictions of wounds , hurt / comfort , depictions of cannibalism , described body horror . smut : fire / burning kink , dry humping , fingering , male moans ( yay ! ) .

3 . 1 k words ++ not beta read .

PART TWO OUT NOW : CINNAMON GIRL

Eyes flutter closed, allowing darkness to wash over you. Soft sounds of birds chirping fill the room around you, drowning out the constant humming of the chip in the back of your neck. You’re hyper aware of everything, the fabric of the blanket that covers you and the cold air that stings your nose as you breath in; chest rising and falling in rhythm.

You remember how reluctant the guards that watched over you were to allow you the sounds you so desperately needed to sleep, not believing your pleas to quiet your constantly racing mind. Nearly a week without rest made them understand rather quickly, when, despite the power dampener locked around your neck, talons began to grow out of your hands and your spine contorted with the growing of fleshy wings.

It seems you’ve been blessed, something has gone right for once in your life as you’re now able to change the sounds to whatever you wish instead of the constant rushing of waves. Secretly, you’re happy to have been put on this mission. Grateful, even, as much as you could be to a monster like Waller. Perhaps you could even forgive her for the electrocution you’d been put through.

Weasel kips at the foot of your bed, stuck to your side since the day you had snapped at him: barred your fangs and shoved him away from you. Something about the beast had been so pathetic that you ended up apologizing and giving a hesitant scratch to the back of his ears. He’s good company, loyal if not a bit of a flea concern, and he listens when you speak to him unlike many of the others in the special containment of Belle Reave.

Nina was kind, as well, perhaps a bit out of her element, though. You’d once tried to make small talk with GI but that ended as quickly as it had started with his sudden interrogation on if you were a Nazi. And god, you wouldn’t dare bring anything up to the others.

Crickets chirped through the headphones you had been allowed to wear, owls hooting and birds calling. A forest at night, a beautiful scene you were sure you wouldn’t be able to see freely again, but you do not indulge in those negative thoughts. You can already feel it looming over you, exhaustion and stress mingling to bring it out. The thing that stirrs inside you, monstrous and ugly. Its hungry, and you know better than to ignore that hunger lest the Weasel that kips at the foot of your bed be more than a scrap of fur.

So, you stirr. Sitting up in the bed you remove your headphones and push the blanket from your form quietly as to not disturb him. He’s almost cute when he sleeps, like a crusty old dog that resembles more of a tattered blanket than a pet. Regardless, you close the door quietly behind you and walk down the long winding hallways of the palace. Truthfully, you had never been anywhere quite as lavish, never had a king sized bed all to yourself or a private bathroom. Its almost too big, especially at night when the shadows dance up the walls and cast an ominous glare over just about everything.

You know better than to gaze at your shadow as you pass the large walls with royal family portraits. Unworthy, unrighteous, evil. The rosary marks still pierce your skin, forced to pray this thing away day and night till your palms and knees bled. You’ve grown resentful towards the being that shares your body. It makes demands of you, to feast, a single slip can give way and allow it to control you. Some kind of devil, the reason you’re here in the first place.

Your mouth had begun to hurt in your search for the kitchen, gums beginning to bleed and pool against the base of your tongue.. You’d have thought you’d be used to this by now, that your world wouldn’t continue to be turned upside down, that the Lord’s Prayer wouldn’t recite involuntarily in your mind as it all starts over again. You stumble over your own two feet, finding yourself silently wishing you had that power dampener around your neck once again. Your stomach rumbles more.

It feels like an eternity till you finally find the kitchen, thankful that all the servants had retired for the night so you can spit your mouthful of blood into the sink. Crimson stains the marble, dripping from your chin as you turn on the faucet to wash your mouth of the taste. Your fangs had grown in now, taking space in front of your canines and piercing uncomfortably against your bottom lip whenever you close your mouth. Hunger gnaws at your stomach as if beginning to consume the lining itself.

You throw open the fridge door with little care of the noise it makes as it slams into the counter beside it. Eyes scour for something, anything, till you land on a large, raw goose marinating for tomorrow nights feast. Shaky hands reach out to grab it, allowing the glass tray it sits in to fall to the ground and shatter. The shards prick at your bare feet, cutting and marring your skin with more blood, though you don’t seem to notice.

Fangs sink into the bird, soft flesh breaking at the intrusion. The taste is almost euphoric, never had you tasted a meat so rich and fatty; your body had gotten far too used to the awful prison food they served in containment. You rip out a large chunk; tendons harshly snapping from the body as you swallow nearly without chewing. Your eyes gloss over as you devour the bird, reaching in to grab at the sausage links that had also been waiting to be cooked the next day.

You hadn’t realized how much you had truly lost yourself till a harsh green glow halted your feast. Head whipping around to greet the skeletal face of Phosphorus, a hiss falling from your lips that still wrapped around a chunk of meat like a food insecure cat. He was your least favorite of all, acting as if he knew everything simply because he had been a doctor before his incident. Not like it mattered in Belle Reave, and certainly not in the monster sector they were kept in.

“Woah. Calm down, I’m not takin’ that from you.” A huff came from him, head tilted to the side as he watched you, almost intrigued with the way you acted. He simply stepped past you, walking over to the sink and simply staring down at the blood that had graced the basin. “This yours?”

The link fell from your mouth, rolling into the shards of glass and crimson as the fangs retracted back into your gums, eyes returning to normal. All you could do was stare at him, as if he had asked the most stupid question in the world. Smartest man in the room your ass.

“Who else’s would it be?”

“Don’t know, thats why I’m asking. Flag and I got into a fight earlier and I totally won, so I’m just wondering.”

“Oh.”

He leans back against the countertop, facing you now, the sleeves of his hoodie protecting him from burning through the granite. Part of him had always intrigued you, in a way, everyone but Weasel had a signature outfit; but him? A hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. It was almost comical how simple he was, though you supposed there wasnt much he could keep. A step towards him, wincing at the sudden realization of what you had done.

His gaze followed yours, looking down to the glass and blood that gushed from your feet and ankles. The light from the fridge and his green glow illuminated the space between you two, dancing off the shards on the floor. Your mouth was covered as well, sloppily wiped onto your cheeks as you had feasted. God, you looked a mess, but the pain distracted you from that fact. Biting your bottom lip to muffle a pathetic whimper of pain.

“Cmon don’t cry, what’s a little glass among friends?”

“I am not crying.”

If he had eyes to roll no doubt he would’ve. Stepping over to you and hooking an arm around your shoulder to help you stand without any warning. Your first instinct is to fight him off, to tell him no and shout at him, but you don’t. Instead, you lean into the touch and allow him to help you hobble up the stairs to, what you originally assume to be your room, but soon discover he’s guiding you into his, and then, into his bathroom.

Theres something almost intimate about the way he grabs your hips to help you onto the counter so he can patch you up. You hadn’t asked this from him, but it didn’t seem to matter much now as he filled a bucket with warm soapy water, dunking a rag in a few times and using the help of tweezers to pick the glass out of your skin. You do your best not to flinch, using the time to preoccupy yourself with washing off the blood from your face.

John 13. You detest the thought, Belle Reave had ripped every ounce of belief from your body, but the ceremonies and rituals of your youth had not quite left your mind, and the intimacy of the moment didn’t help. Silence filled the room, the only noises being the soft sounds of the wash cloth being dunked into the water and squeezed out. You’d seen it before, a relatives wedding, the washing of the feet ceremony. It’s meant to be intimate, to be between spouses, to show commitment and love just as Jesus had to his disciples. You feel far more like Judas, however, with the monster that festers inside you.

“So. What was that?” His voice snaps you from your thoughts, eyes fluttering down to look at him, hesitating at his question. You don’t have a good answer, not one that wraps everything up into a neat bow at the least. Just what you know, which isn’t much.

“It’s the reason I’m classified as a monster. Theres… something that lives inside me, a devil of sorts I was always told. It’s been there for as long as I can remember, its why I had to wear the collar back in confinement. It starts to creep out whenever I slip, get too comfortable or let my guard down.” You’re quiet, not wanting to break the softness of this encounter. “I’m sorry you had to see it.”

“You don’t have to apologize. We’re all freaks, its the whole point of this task force.”

“I guess. I’m still sorry.”

A huff comes from Phosphorus as he grabs a clean washcloth, dunking it in fresh water and reaching up to wipe off some of the blood that you had missed, that still marrs your mouth and flesh. He’s close, now, very much so. He smells of sulfur, though it does not cause you to recoil or scrunch your nose; its a scent you’ve grown accustomed to with the monster that shares your body. Can a skeleton be attractive? Is that possible?

You lean into the feeling of the warm washcloth against your cheek; having been so long since someone had touched you. Before you had been arrested you indulged in sin, lust, it had engulfed your body and it wasn’t a feeling you ever wanted to encounter again. How it could consume your entire being, give control over to someone other than yourself. It’s a fine line for you, but you feel the distantly familiar feeling of butterflies flutter in your stomach at the proximity of him.

You feel sick; like bile will creep up your throat any moment, but it doesn’t feel bad. Not with how he lets the cloth be a barrier between the two of you, between his hands that will burn your body at his touch. You’d welcome it, to let him cauterize your wounds and fix you. Your hands creep up to wrap around the back of his neck, protected by the hood of his sweater as you pull him closer. He’s warm, comfortable.

“I don’t like you apologizing, you look like a kicked puppy.”

“You’re smiling, though.”

“Can’t help it, I’m a skeleton, doll.”

His voice is a giveaway, though, possibly the most upbeat you had heard him despite the quiet and intimate nature of the room. You feel it, the radiating warmth from his other hand creeping down to your thigh, rubbing soft, soothing circles against the fabric that protects your skin from his touch. It would hurt, but a part of you almost welcomes it, wants to feel it.

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes focused on the hand that slowly crept higher from your thigh. He’s close, his heat rivaling that at your core. You miss the way his head tilts to the side at your demeanor, hands grasping and releasing the fabric of his hoodie over and over.

Phosphorus said nothing as he continued to wipe some of the blood from your mouth, lingering over your bottom lip while his other hand becomes preoccupied with cupping you over your pajama pants, skeletal fingers pressing in to give you some friction.

That nausea you had felt earlier returns tenfold, punishing yourself for feeling anything remotely good. The situation reminds you far too much of the last time, dipping too far into bliss. It seemed you had only blinked when the body of the lover you had found for the night was strewn across the room, spitting half eaten entrails out of your maw. He guides you to lean back against the mirror, your hand clasping over your mouth to muffle your sounds as he slips below the fabric of your nightwear.

You can feel it again, the hunger that rises to your chest. Your hands shake against your skin now, nailbeds aching with the growing of your talons. A whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. You are selfish, greedy. You’d rather relish in this than warn him, to have one moment that allows you to feel human, to feel wanted and loved.

A sudden burning feeling rips you from your thoughts, your hand had been removed from its post over your mouth and was held in his. Tears well in your eyes at the feeling, the searing pain that washed over your body and forces you to see white. It aches, branding you.

“Shit.” Is all that falls from his mouth, moving his hand away before you needily grasp it once more. Intertwining your fingers, keeping him there. The pain had forced the monster away, talons no longer threatening to protrude from your nailbeds and spine ceasing its contorting. You are lucky, graced with an opportunity to feel something beneath the endless pit in your stomach. To feel him.

“Don’t stop.” Your breathless words are more than enough to encourage his continuation, slotting himself between you legs and pressing the suddenly tight fabric of his sweatpants against you. A soft sigh falling from your lips, head tilted back, hair fluffing up on the mirror as he began to rock against you.

“I wont.” Slow, at first, as if testing the waters to gauge your reaction. Soft whines emitting from somewhere behind the skeletal teeth that were on display for you. Your hand scrunches up his hoodie, dragging his chest closer to you as he began to pick up the pace.

Needy and pathetic, his hips grinding rougher against your pajama pants, the tent in his pants catching on your covered clit; pulling a gasp from you as you arched your back. He focused his movements in that spot, up and then down to elicit soft whines and moans from you. Matching his neediness, having been touched starved for so long.

You’d grown up with depictions of heaven, imaginary white fluffy clouds somewhere high above the Earth. But here, right now, you’re more than convinced this is paradise. Rough fabrics rocking against each other, keeping you grounded on the countertop you sit on, the mirror behind you beginning to fog up with your heavy breathing. Your hands still intertwined, the harsh stinging drowned out at the near bliss you faced.

Hes sloppy now, nearing his finish far faster than you despite your state. Harsh whines fall from him as he grinds against you a few more times before panting and leaning against you. He’s winded for a moment, catching his breath, though the hand not holding yours travels back down to rub against your core.

Hes rough, guiding you to gush around nothing. You can feel your heartbeat below, drumming uncomfortably as you bury your face in the neck of his hoodie. His hand slips below your pajamas once more, continuing to tease your swollen clit and soaked folds as tears pricked at your eyes, squeezing his hand to single for him to stop.

Within a moment, he did. Ceasing the torment though not removing his hand from under your pants. Allowing your juices to pool against the cotton of your underwear before guiding his hand lower, placing his palm flat against your thigh and removing his other hand from yours. It stings, the cleansing fire emitting from him, your hand already burned as he brands your thigh with his handprint.

“Perhaps we should act like this didn’t happen… I’m sure it would make being on a team awkward.”

“I-... Yeah. Agreed. I should, um, head to bed.” Awkward you lift yourself from the counter and fix your pajama pants, slipping off the granite and setting against the cold tile floor. Your feet still hurt, though not nearly as bad as they had hurt before and surely nothing in comparison to the feeling of him against your skin.

He gives little more than a nod as you slink out the door, stumbling down the hall to find your own room and quickly running a hot bath. It would soothe you, make everything better, you deemed. Stripping to allow yourself to sink into the warmth as a sigh falls from your lips, eyes drawn to the handprint marked on your thigh.

You trace the outline with your finger, over and over almost obsessively and silently cursing him for his words. An asshole, you remembered, your least favorite in the little ragtag team. Though, with the way he had whimpered and moaned against you, you were halfway convinced you may be able to fuck the sarcasm and ill wit out of him.

#doctor phosphorus #dr phosphorus #creature commandos #creature commandos dc #smut #x reader #doctor phosphorus x reader #dr phosphorus x reader #i need that radioactive man so bad

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inkskinned · 2 years ago

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there are days that it is hard, and unfair, and some horrible part of me wishes i could have been born in a different world. i love being queer, i hate how others react to it. when i first came out at 15, my mom whispered: please don't say that. your life would be so much harder.

it is harder.

it is also a tuesday, walking my dog. we are both skiving off of work, and yes both of us have dyed hair and pronouns. mine is patchy - it was my first time trying bleach; i didn't have enough. theirs is a resilient toadstool green. a little girl comes up to us and asks um, excuse me? is your hair real? 'cause jason says you're a fairy.

it is sunday brunch, all of us talking over each other, overfull on love. she is trying out a new name today, and we made her a cake with today's name scrawled in shaky purple letters. she laughs so much she cries and then gets frosting in her hair. someone young at a different table keeps giving us these large, wide eyes: the same look we have all been on the other side of. the kind that says, breathless: wait, is that possible?

it is a half-fight in a supermarket because he loves "dance moms" and says abby's tiktok is funny and meanwhile i think the children in that show should be allowed to sue abby lee miller for child abuse. i tell him that it led to the casual acceptance of child harassment for mainly adult views; and then i am standing, suddenly, in someone else's thrown soda. there's a white lady standing there, furious, saying something about hell-on-earth. i had forgotten i was wearing stuff with pride colors. and then it is this: he had just been casually arguing with me - and within an instant, he squares his shoulders and goes after her like i am his sister

on saturday i sat in a circle while beca played with my hair and we were all over 30 and we laughed about how much happier we are being this old, how much more we appreciate our community. 25 minutes from now, we will be on stage to dance in baggy beige clothing, but for now we look on with envy to the dancers in loud-and-bright buttondowns. where are they getting these shirts! i cry, distraught. everyone laughs. one of our friends has a mushroom witch hat. this would have been cringey in high school, probably. instead we are all delighted with each other; happy just to be here and alive and moving

it's that last week my new friends cried with joy for me when they heard i'm getting top surgery. every so often i have the honor of being the first person someone feels comfortable enough to tell. i'm trying to make long fluttery butterfly wings to wear to pride; but i don't know anything about fabric or dye, so my friends have been sending me their personal advice.

i think in a different poem i would talk about how sometimes you walk into a room and put the mask back on. but i'm sleepy and my whole brain is fuzzy so i think in this one, it's a monday, and my dog and i took a nap on a couch, and i had missed texts from friends. i used to wake up lonely. i think this poem is about walking into a room and seeing someone and just knowing, the way you just-know-sometimes, and then giving them that little smile, and seeing them light up with joy and relief. it is how we always seem to be able to find each other in a crowded room. how we always seem to make friends with each other before even we know-it-to-be-true. it is saying: we're very different people; but i belong to you.

it is harder, yes. but it comes with a built-in family.

#wish this was better written!!! but im sleepy!!#writeblr #pride #lgbt #but for real please help me make these lesbian wings. gonna get the supplies tomorrow . i have #no sewing machine but know how to hand sew #have never done a good job with tie dye so idk why im just runnin with it #ps im specifically going to boston pride next weekend come hang out with me

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gibberishfangirl · 14 days ago

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WINDBREAKER | twinzies

Synopsis ✰ being a couple consists of matching doesn’t it?

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Toma Hiragi, Mitsuki Kiryu, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw!, established relationship, matching accessories/items, teasing, couple goals tbh, fluff, literally just cutest couple stuff

when matching with Sakura ᡣ𐭩 it had to be kept simple and light. if you suggested anything too much or something too obvious he might have a heart attack. in all honesty the fact that you two had matching phone charms didn’t even register all that much in his head. he’d notice a cute mini miffy charm that you had connected to your phone and stare at it. he wouldn’t even realize the amount of the times you caught him looking at it. you thought it was cute to see your boyfriend be intrigued by the same things you liked. it inspired you to get him the same one you had for his. you surprised him with it and he’d blush while saying “thanks… whyd you get me one?” “no reason, just thought it would look cute on your phone too.” your smile would make him even more flustered as he was quick to put it on. a few days went past and sakura was slightly memorized by the gift, he’d play with it when he had free time or spend him time just looking at it. one time when he was fidgeting with it Nirei distracted him by saying “hey that’s a cute phone charm sakura! doesn’t your girlfriend have the same one?” “oh yeah… she does.” another blush was found creeping up his face as he realized you two have the same exact charm.

Umemiya ᡣ𐭩 wasn’t by any means a shy guy so whenever it came to matching or expressing any sort of affection he had no issue with it. he would want to do anything that would make you happy and he also liked the idea of showing off your relationship even more. you were all his and he’d let the entire world know if he could. no amount of teasing or comments could ever make him retract his feelings. even if it meant the teasing would leak into his meetings and personal conversations. “you’re not a dog y’know, wearing a chain with their name on it? just buy yourself a collar at that point.” Hiragi would tease, not meaning his words but just trying to get a reaction out of Ume. not that it worked, Ume knew exactly what he was trying to do. “no need to be so bitter Hiragi, i still care about you. don’t feel like you’re getting replaced.” Ume would pat Hiragi’s back sympathetically as if he were consoling him to which Hiragi would just roll his eyes at. it was impossible to make Ume feel any ounce of shame. especially when it was about his personal relationship with you.

when you mentioned matching couple’s clothing Suo ᡣ𐭩 was a bit caught off guard. not that he was against it by any means, it’s just that he didn’t think you’d be the type to suggest it. the matching essence was more minimalist than anything since the two of you would coordinate the outfits to go together. you two would have matching shoes and simple jewelry. you would wear a black skirt while he wore black pants and then have matching colored shirts (different styles, same color). anyone who saw you two apart wouldn’t assume you’d have a matching twin but it made sense whenever you two were reunited. you loved to do this whenever the two of you went on dates and Suo loved the way your eyes lit up when you planned out the outfits. it was a win win situation for everyone. most people would compliment your outfits or stare in awe at how adorable the two of you were. even if the date was interrupted by running into some of his friends it would still be fun. All of them would typically compliment the two of you and comment on how well you two look together. Sakura was a bit more on the shy side so he would blush at the sight of your relationship in general. he might have to stop staring at you guys after realizing that you’re matching, the cuteness would be too much of him. he would secretly wish he had someone to do that with.

it was Nirei ᡣ𐭩‘s idea to match. not that it was surprising to hear that he wanted to have matching accessories. he absolutely adores you and it’s hard for him to purchase only one thing for himself when he knows you would also love it just as much. he was for sure a little cheesy with some of the accessories such as the matching necklaces that were a heart and a key. SO CHEESY AND CLICHE but you can’t bring yourself to even cringe at the sweet boy as he was excited to show you it. you eventually settled with the heart while he got the key. you know since he had the key to your heart. pained you to stay out loud but his bright smile made it worth it. he literally never takes it off he doesn’t even bother to shove the necklace into his shirt he always has it out on display. the necklaces were actually somewhat subtle whenever the two of you were apart but whenever anyone saw the two of you it finally made sense. you could never tell your sweet boy no whenever he brought something new and cheesy to match. …even if it meant wearing ridiculous tee shirts.

honestly… Hiragi ᡣ𐭩 didn’t see the point in matching. not that he’d ever say that out loud. he does whatever you want but he genuinely didn’t understand why couples would match or what it’s supposed to signify… if it even has a meaning? he definitely isn’t too experienced in the dating department let alone in a relationship that actually shows a lot of affection. no matter how silly the item was or how out of character it was in comparison to him he would never reject any gift of yours. he also sure as hell would never even let anyone dare to make a funny comment about it either. especially not in front of you. he most likely has hit the boys a couple of times for trying to tease him about it in front of you. they would quickly get shut down by catching an elbow to their gut. nonetheless, as much as he tried to avoid it from happening he caught himself also starting to like the concept of it little by little as the days went on.

matching with Kiryu ᡣ𐭩 had a more sentimental effect to it. especially since you two were quite picky about it. it wasn’t something you two did often or really planned out. that’s what made the matching heart lockets you got on your anniversary so special. when you opened them up they were customized with a special message you two secretly made for one another on one side and the other side had a photo. Kiryu was a romantic he couldn’t help fidgeting with the locket in his spare time and glancing at the photo of you in it every couple hours. your cheesy smile in it would bring a subtle blush to his cheeks and he would remember the exact moment he first had taken that photo. not to mention it was a huge pick me up booster whenever he felt the tiniest bit down. all he had to do was look in his locket and he would find the motivation to go on with his day with ease.

Togame ᡣ𐭩 found it cute whenever he noticed you begun to copy his style. he found it funny how you began to look like a mini him by stealing his hoodies and shirts. soon enough he started to learn more about what looks good on you and flatters you. he loves how you look in the oversized streetwear style, he thinks you look cool but will never say it to your face in order to keep you humbled. last thing he wants is for your ego to skyrocket and for you to rub it in his face that you look better in his style than he does. even though he knows it’s the truth. anyway if you really think about it, you only look cool because you’re wearing his stuff so he should take the credit for it. however, now whenever he shops he tends to buy two of the same item since he can’t help but imagine how much cooler you’d look with him on your side. so in the end matching was technically his idea and you never caught on to the fact that you two were matching a lot until you started to receive compliments about how cute it was.

matching with Choji ᡣ𐭩 was subtle in a way that no one really even knows or realizes the two of you have matching items. the only ones who know about it are you two and you both don’t mind that. you both have matching items such as plushies, random items, or room decor. you both had a lot of the same interests and would accidentally buy each other the same items for the holidays or as gifts. it was funny as it was never intentional. there were so many times where the two of you would purchase something for one another and had to fight back the urge to keep it for yourself. only to find out that the other got you the exact same thing anyway. you both know each other so well sometimes it felt like you were the same person. it’s surprising how no one has even noticed that you two constantly wear the exact same pair of headphones everyday. yes. you both gifted each other the same style headphones in the exact same color.

#haruka sakura #sakura haruka x reader #hajime umemiya #hajime umemiya x reader #hayato suo #suo hayato x reader #nirei akihiko #nirei akihiko x reader #toma hiragi #toma hiragi x reader #mitsuki kiryu #mitsuki kiryu x reader #jo togame #jo togame x reader #wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #choji tomiyama #choji tomiyama x reader

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catsteeth · 9 months ago

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Sugar & Violence

Podrick Payne x reader

+:✿ Chapter 1 ✿:+ : Lucky Boy

chapter 2

Summary: You’re a Mormont being held hostage by House Lannister. You are acting now as the Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell, whom you’ve grown quite close with. But it seems that a squire has caught your attention as you have caught his.

CW: afab reader, slow burn, mention violence, blood, mention of harassment, mention of NSFW themes.

A/N: I am not giving up on the leashed dog series yall I promise I have just been PINING for pod the rod recently… and tbh we need a little sweetness with everything happening in the other series okay. He is a rom com boy trapped in a medieval fantasy war and I feel so bad for him.

Word Count: 3348

It had been many days now being held by the Lannisters. You’d no real duties on Bear Island as it was such a small house. Your Aunt was a fierce leader and needed no guidance. You had chosen to venture off of Bear Island to celebrate your coming of age. You decided to travel all over the realm, you wished to see the world and experience all of it. However at a tavern near Kings Landing a man decided to grab at you. You hated it when men did that, so you took your cup of ale and smashed the whole cup into his nose.

It broke of course, and of course, like a child he wept. If a man had done such to another man no one would have batted an eye. But because it was a gold cloak you “assaulted”, and because you were you, a Mormont. An enemy house, you were arrested and brought to the Lannisters. They thought of killing you but instead decided to make use of you.

And they did make good use of you. With you there, Bear Island would be swayed away from ever siding with Stannis against them with you in your custody. Not only that but you were trained in healing, and not nearly as hardened looking as the other women of Bear Island. You were made Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell while she was inhabiting the city.

Margery had done her part in helping you fit in. She showed you how to style your hair, how to pick a dress that suited your figure, how to manipulate the men around you, keeping you out of any more unnecessary trouble. When she dressed you up, no one would be able to tell you could swing a sword just as well as any Kingsgaurd or sellsword could.

You see Margery had to pretend in front of everyone else, but with you, you weren’t loyal to the Lannisters and she knew this. Besides you two had bonded after many nights drinking wine late at night in her bedchambers. Like two little girls who had stolen their fathers ale. You’d spend the nights talking of your lives and your wishes.

Margery was the same again and again, to be the queen. And yours was always the same, to live life and experience all you could.

You and she also talked of men. You’d had experience, and so had she. Not many women would admit it but you two were close enough that you felt you could.

You and she attended many festive celebrations with one another, and to anyone else it would seem you were enjoying your time there. That was good, you did not want to attract any attention.

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Your station as a handmaiden made it easy to overhear and eavesdrop on many high born conversations. One that caught your attention the most was that Janos Slynt, the commander of the gold cloaks, the man who arrested you, was going to be dismissed from his duty.

You weren’t above pettiness. You wanted to hear him be dismissed with your own ears. You found a small room within the castle. Tyrion was hosting a small dinner with Slynt. This was going to be the dinner where he was going to be dismissed. You pressed your back against the wall beside the door listening in. The majority of the dinner was mindless small talk, until

“Damn it boy!” Slynt said loudly.

The shout was so loud you couldn’t help but turn and peer into the room, catching a glimpse of the man who arrested you, Lord Tyrion Lannister, and a squire. You saw that the squire had spilt wine all over the hand of Slynt. It made you smile, holding in amusement.

“My apologies my Lord.” The shorter brown haired squire said.

“You can pour your own wine.” Tyrion said in defense of the squire.

You looked back to Slynt and saw that you had been seen, Slynt raised a brow at you.

“You girl! You the Mormont?" Slynt said loudly,

‘Fuck’ you thought to yourself. Knowing you’d been caught.

“Indeed, My Lord.” You said, putting on a meek and sweet demeanor.

“Come in here,” Slynt commanded.

“What are you doing here, My Lady?” Tyrion questioned you gently.

“Looking for my Lady Tyrell, I seem to have lost my way, My Lord.” You said bowing your head. A convincing enough lie.

“I was responsible for your arrest, do you remember that, girl.” His face was confident and irritating.

“I do, Ser.” You said still attempting to keep a sweet and calm demeanor.

“I thought she was to be punished?” Slynt said to Tyrion.

“She is HandMaiden to Lady Margery Tyrell, and as I am told, a very skilled healer. She has proven to be quite useful.” Lord Tyrion said with a smile looking at you, you smiled back.

“A girl assaults a member of the gold cloaks and is given a position in your Kingdom?”

“A decision made by the King. If you wish to disagree with his decision-”

“Course not.” Slynt interrupted, “Wine,” he commanded, holding up his empty cup.

The same squire began to walk towards the man with the pitcher of wine.

“Not you, boy, the bear girl.” Slynt said looking at you, the irritation boiled inside of you. But you did your best to keep your cool.

You took the pitcher from the squires hands, you looked at him for a moment, his worried expression changed into a smile. It was a smile of total innocence you thought to yourself.

You took the pitcher and walked your way towards the table, as you began to pour wine into his cup he started to speak again.

“Tell me girl, are you enjoying the city?” His tone was one of an interrogator.

“Yes, My Lord.” You said pouring, with a cherubic smile.

“You don’t look like the women of Bear Island.” He said biting his lip, it made you feel ill.

“Indeed, My Lord.” Agree blindly, that’s what Margery taught you anyway

“Women there are beasts,” He said to Tyrion.

“Like you I assume?” Tyrion teased him, it made you smile.

“No, no, like her aunt Maege.” He said and your smile dwindled, but you kept it on.

You didn’t respond this time, biting your tongue, you felt the anger in you rising but said nothing. You wanted to pour the wine on his balding head, but still, did nothing.

“Tell me is it true, is it true she fucked a bear?”

“Lord Slyn-” Tyrion began

“What do you wish for me to say, my Lord?” You felt your temper slipping from between your fingertips. Your smile now gone.

“Do you think I wish for you to lie girl?” Slynt’s tone was harsh,

You stared at him for a moment, your smile snapping back into place.

“Whatever you’d command, my Lord.”

“Enough.” Tyrion tried to stop it.

“You’d do anything I commanded?”

“I said enough. Lady Mormont, you may see to your lady.” Tyrion commanded, saving you from whatever was to come next.

You smiled and curtseyed as you walked back to place the pitcher back on the table. With your back turned to the men your face dropped and you made eye contact with the same squire. He looked at you with pity in his eyes. You couldn’t stand it. You spit into the pitcher and smiled at the squire, he tried hard to hold back his amusement, only giving it away with a smirk as he looked down at his feet.

As you walked out of the room you made sure not to make the same mistake as before. You hid better, committed to hearing this man be removed from his position. And you did, and it was just as satisfying as you thought it would be. Especially when he was escorted by his own gold cloaks out of the tower, kicking and whining like a child.

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During the Battle of Blackwater you attended to many mens wounds.

It had taken most of the night, you were not concerned with the war that waged outside the castle walls. If they won, nothing changed for you. If they lost, you’d either be set free, or once again, nothing would change. Most likely it would be the latter.

You among a few other ladies attended to wounds and dying men while the Maester did as much as he could for those who were far gone.

Things had slowed down, beds were nearly full, but then knights rushed in holding Lord Tyrion. His face had been cut deeply. The cut had crossed his entire face. You could tell at first glance that it would scar, but he would live. It would have been extremely painful but thankfully he was unconscious.

They were all shouting at the Maester. To halt what he was doing and to attend to their lord. As he did a tall man, Bronn, the man who replaced Slynt. Dragged a shorter man with short dark hair towards the Maester.

“Lads hand is cut deep, needs help.” Bronn said

“I can’t attend to every cut and scrape when there's a dying lord in my presence.” The old Maester said, quite dramatically you thought. Tyrion was badly wounded but he would live. “Mormont, girl, you attend to the lad!” He shouted to you.

“Is she any good?” Bronn said, the other shorter man looked at you with what looked like embarrassment, “This lad saved that Lord's life.” You huffed at his comment, it annoyed you how he didn’t ask you but the Maester.

“If I’d a cock they’d call me a Maester.” You said walking closer to him til you were inches apart, it made him take a gasp of air puffing up his chest, and his lips formed a line. “Show me,” You said, much softer this time. He relaxed a bit and as you presented your hand, palm facing him. He placed his hand in yours. “Not so bad,” you said as you examined it.

“Hear that Podrick, not bad-” Bronn said to the shorter man.

“Not so bad. It is still bad.” You noticed his expression change to a more worried one. You, for some reason, felt the need to let your cold and hardened attitude slip for a moment. “But you won’t lose it. I’ll clean it, stitch it, and bandage it.” You placed your other hand over his, trying to comfort him. “Sit.”

He nodded and did so, laying his hand on the table. You began to clean it. Your eyes snapped from his wound to his face as he winced. “Is it true?” he looked at you and his eyes made your stomach feel like there were butterflies in it, so you looked back to his wound as you tended to it, “You saved him? Lord Tyrion?”

“I- I helped him, My Lady.” He said, stammering. Though you weren’t looking at him you could tell his eyes were on your face.

“You’re quite brave, Ser.” You said as you finished cleaning his wound.

“Thank you, My Lady, but I’m not-”

“He’s no Ser, that lads a squire.” Bronn interrupted, “I tell you what though Lass, you want a knight I’ll be happy to oblige.” He said stepping closer to you, your eyes returned to your work on the squires hand.

“Men like you amuse me, Ser. They believe they are still young, handsome, and desirable. No matter what they look like.” You said attempting to fain genuine amusement as if he’d told a joke.

As Bronn attempted to begin a retort, you heard a small laugh leave the unconscious Lord’s lips, still not fully conscious.

“See? I am a good healer.” You said as everyone looked at Tyrion's subtle laugh as you continued to work.

The squire looked back at you with a slight grin, as if he were trying to hide his amusement.

“Much braver for a squire to do such a thing.” You said softly just so he’d hear it.

He smiled at you in response, He was pretty you thought. Men on Bear Island were fearsome, rigid, and gruff. This one wasn’t, the opposite in fact. He’d had a natural goodness about him, a sweetness.

That's when you realized he was the same squire from the dinner between Ser Slynt and Lord Tyrion.

“I know you.” You said with narrow eyes and furrowed brows, finally realizing.

“Yes, my Lady.” His smile and innocent response made you smile involuntarily, you tried to hide it to no avail. You were flattered that he’d even remembered you. The feeling of flattery didn’t come naturally to you at all either.

“This part is going to hurt.” You said pulling the curved needle through his flesh, he winced and hissed. Your eyes went towards him, normally you never cared. A man should learn to handle pain, you always thought. But you hated to see him in any discomfort. “Bring him wine.” You called out to Bronn. Your words towards Bronn were no near as gentle and sweet sounding as they were towards Podrick.

He began to drink it, only sipping a little at first, but you pushed the cup up making him down more. “You’ll want to be numb to this.” You explained.

As he continued to drink you continued with your work. By the end of it you bandaged his hand, “Finished,” You said standing up, and he followed your actions.

“I can’t thank you enough, my lady.” He said clearly a little drunk from the wine.

“Alright,” Bronn said grabbing Podrick by the back of his neck and dragged him out of the chamber. You could hear Bronn outside say “You can fuck the she-bear later.” followed by some distant protesting by Podrick.

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A day had passed since the battle. You were in your chambers with Margery. You’d told her about all the handsome knights you’d seen that night.

She’d teased you about how lucky you were to have gotten your hands on so many. You had begun to describe the squire you’d met. How strange it was to have met a man so pleasant in such an awful place.

As the two of you laughed there was a knock at your door. Margery took it upon herself to answer it.

“Lady Tyrell, apologies for the interruption. I came to thank Lady Mormont.” You heard his voice and knew who it was immediately.

“Ah! I take it you were a knight she tended to during the battle?” Margery asked him, you wanted to laugh, but held it in.

“A squire, my Lady.” He said, his tone was somewhat sullen. As if he were embarrassed to say it.

“A squire…” Margery said with her signature smile as she turned to look at you, raising her eyebrows, then turning back to him “Well I shall leave you to express your gratitude.” She said as she left.

You stood from your chair and stepped forward.

“Lady Mormont?” He said walking towards you, as he did he pulled out a small but beautiful delicate yellow flower. It had only recently bloomed.

“A flower?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. On Bear Island people hardly said the word thank you much less showed appreciation through gifts, especially not such sweet ones as this.

“I don’t have much, my lady. But I- I wanted to show my gratitude.” He said with his token innocent wide eyed look. You took the flower and smiled slightly, which made him smile back.

“It was my duty, you don’t need to give me flowers for it.” He looked down, as if he was disappointed in himself. You smelt the flower, to show your hidden appreciation of the gesture. “Show me your hand.” You held your hands out, he hesitated not expecting you to command such a thing, but he did it as you asked. “Hurting at all?” You asked softly examining the cut.

“No, my lady.” His voice was gentle as always.

“It’s healing well.” You said running your finger tip along the length of the stitches, the sensation made him take his hand away, rubbing it against the side of his pants.

He grunted a little and cleared his throat, “All your doing, my Lady.”

You looked at him with a smirk, “How long have you been squiring for Lord Tyrion?”

“For a short time,”

“Well, you’ll need to learn to pour wine. You spill wine on every Lord in Westeros, sooner or later you’ll spill it on the wrong one.” You said walking towards a table, you grabbed a glass and a pitcher of wine.

“Pour me wine.” You said handing him a pitcher of wine.

You stepped closer towards him, making his swallow hard. But he took the pitcher nonetheless.

“hold the pitcher like this-“ You said moving his hands position with your own, “from the handle, and the bottom” You looked up into his eyes, noticing he was looking right at you “Keep your eyes on the glass.” You said, snapping him out of whatever trance he was in and going back to the task at hand.

“Like this?” He asked, his voice somewhat more confident.

“Mhmm.” The hum of your voice too close to him made him close his eyes for just a moment. He finished filling your cup, without spilling a drop, “Very good.” As you said it he and you looked at one another, his eyes were wide once again.

“What were you doing there, my lady?” He asked, with a genuine curiosity. “You said you were looking for your Lady, and forgive me for suspecting otherwise-”

“Eavesdropping.” You interrupted “I had heard they were sending Slynt away, and I wanted to hear it myself.”

“How did you hear of that?”

“Again, eavesdropping.” You smirked

“A-and what are you doing here, in Westeros? You were arrested?”

“It seems you were also eavesdropping.” You teased him.

“Uh well we were in the same room-” You ignored him,

“I left Bear Island to travel, during my travels a Gold cloak tried to force himself on me, so I defended myself.” You said in a matter of fact, you’d no regrets, and no pain towards the matter. However his big brown eyes looked saddened for you, pity, you couldn’t stand pity, “It’s alright, really.” You said trying to reassure him.

“Do you miss your home?” He asked, sweetly.

“I do,” You responded softly, strange how this man was able to gentle your harsh demeanor.

“What was it like?” When he asked it you were thrown off, no one had asked you anything about your home in a genuine way. No one had any interest in it beyond the same constant boring insults.

“Cold. Not just the temperature, the people. But it was beautiful there. Green, rivers, waterfalls.” You smiled softly thinking of it, and found yourself wondering about him, “What of you? You miss your home?”

“I didn’t have much of one, my Lady.” He lowered his head,

“How’d you get here?” Your eyes narrowed wanting to know more of him. Genuinely.

“I was the squire for a Ser Lorimer of the Westerlands army. One night he was drunk, and he stole a ham, he shared it with me. We were caught, and he was sentenced to hang for his crime but I was spared for my name.”

“Lucky boy.” You said with a smirk. One that made his stomach flip.

“You are different, with the men at the tables. You’re sweet and… simple- but you're not that.” He said, stammering, trying his best not to offend you.

Your smirk faded, “Men want sweet and simple. Men don’t beat things that are sweet and simple.”

“You’ve been beaten?” He asked as if it were a horrific discovery.

“Most girls have.” You said calmly in contrast

“I-I am sorry, My Lady.”

“That’s alright. "

“No, it’s not.”

“No, it’s not.” You smiled softly at him. “You’re a good man, for a southern man. Or just for a man.”

“Thank you, my lady.” He said with a slight grin.

“You don’t have to call me that. (Y/N), will do.”

“(Y/N)” he smiled to himself “(Y/N) Mormont… it is a pretty name.” His grin grew

“You never told me yours.”

“Ser Bronn told you-“

“But you never told me.” You interrupted.

“Podrick Payne, my- (Y/N)” He stumbled remembering to call you by your name.

“Well, goodnight then, my Podrick.” You said teasingly with a smirk.

Hearing you say those words, “my” followed by his name made a heat rush his face, a visible one. He licked his lips and bowed his head as he responded “Goodnight, (Y/N)” He said as he left you.

You smelt the flower once more before Margery barged in,

“A squire?”

NOTE: There is a serious drought of Podrick Payne fan fiction series on this app so I had to. And yes… as always my babygirls, we will be fucking. JUST HOLD ON… I don’t know dick about Slynt so his dialogue is probably off so i apologize if you love him or smth lmao. TAG LIST: This is a new series so if you want to be included comment or message me!

#podrick #podrick payne #podrick x reader #podrick x you #podrick x y/n #podrick payne x reader #podrick payne x you #podrick payne x y/n #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fic #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones #got fanfic #got fic #got #podrick headcanons

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vivwritesfics · 9 months ago

Text

Fire Is The Devils Only Friend

Chapter Five

There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him

1.1K

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Carlos didn't tell her that he had bought her book. He didn't mention it when he kissed her goodbye, leaving her with Piñón. But it was in his bag as he headed to the Grand Prix.

With Rebecca Donaldson at the Grand Prix, there was very little Carlos could do to show her that he loved her. But any spare moment he got, he was reading her book. In his drivers room, in the back of the garage when he wasn't needed, he had her book open.

Fans noticed immediately. They first noticed that he was reading. But then they took notice of what he was reading. At first it was no big deal. She'd been in the garage a couple of months ago, so it wasn't the most outlandish thing in the world.

But then one fan pointed out that the book had only been released in English. He was reading the book in English!

The theories from the fans started. Well, were they theories if they were correct? The ferrari media team watched if all unfold. They knew they had to get on top of it and quick.

So, while she was sending her mother a picture of Piñón with his head on her lap, a picture was circulating instagram. She hadn't touched instagram since the day she found out about Carlos and Rebecca, and she didn't touch it this time.

A screenshot from Carlos's account, his latest post, in fact, was he and Rebecca Donaldson, hand in hand as he kissed her head, popped up below the picture she had sent her mother. 'Is this him?' Her mother had typed beneath the picture.

"Fuck," she choked, turning the phone off and throwing it to the side. Piñón went to chase after the phone, but she held onto his collar, crying against his fur.

She thought she was okay with it, but she wasn't. She hadn't been prepared for the onslaught of emotions that came with seeing that picture.

"He kisses my head like that," she said to Piñón. "I don't think we have any pictures like that together."

Of course, she didn't know the context, didn't know why that picture had been posted. She didn't know it was because Carlos had been caught reading her book, and that fans were beginning to get suspicious.

She wiped her tears and grabbed Piñón's lead. Taking nothing but a set of keys, she left their house and took Piñón for a walk.

It was therapeutic, taking Piñón on his walk. He led the way, taking her on the trail he usually walked with Carlos. The three of them had never gone together. It was usually Carlos. Normally, when she took Piñón, she was careful, avoiding main roads and potential pictures being taken.

But, today, she couldn't find it in herself to care.

"Is it my fault?" She asked Piñón as she sat on a bench. "I mean, if I hadn't been so against us being public in the first place would this have happened?"

Of course, Piñón didn't answer. He couldn't answer. He was a dog.

She thought she could do this. She certainly loved Carlos enough to try. But this, seeing another beautiful woman doing all of the things she wished she could do with him, was too much.

And even if Carlos publicly broke things off with Rebecca for her, he'd always be seen as a cheater and she'd always be seen as the other woman. It could ruin her life.

Well no, that was exaggeration. But she didn't see it that way, she wasn't going to see that way, not for a while. At the moment, Piñón was the only thing keeping her there.

Carlos was on the podium. It was a win, actually. She watched on the television as he stayed ahead of the rest of the grid. He was showing Ferrari exactly what they would miss if they dropped him. It gave her a little slither of hope.

But that hope soon dissipated. She wore a small smile as Carlos climbed out of the car. He ran over to celebrate with his team, and then his father. The father that didn't know she existed.

Behind his father, she was there. Carlos hugged her as she stepped towards the barrier. Hugging wasn't so bad; they couldn't be seen ignoring each other, after all.

But then Rebecca's hands were on his face and she pulled him in for a kiss. The camera zoomed in on them as Carlos shut his eyes, melting into her.

Fuck, she couldn't do this.

For the second time in two weeks, she packed up her things and placed them in her car. Tears rolled down her sheets as she turned the few frames full of pictures of her and Carlos around so that they were facing the wall.

Last, she grabbed Piñón's bed. He wasn't her dog, and she had no intention of keeping him from Carlos, but she was going to take him with her, keep him well looked after while Carlos was away.

And then, when Carlos came to pick him up, she'd break up with him.

Piñón sat in the back of the car as she drove to her mother's house. "Oh, buddy," she whispered. As they drove. He slept on the drive, unaware that anything was wrong. She couldn't help but be envious of him, of how unaware he was of what was going on.

Her mother opened the door as soon as she saw her car coming up the drive. "You couldn't do it, could you?" She called, watching her climb out of the car.

She scowled as she grabbed Piñón. When she saw him, her mother gasped and let out a laugh. "You kidnapped his dog? That's hilarious," she said taking the dogs lead from her daughter.

Her daughter, who said nothing as she got her things from the car. Her mother could never understand this, could never understand what she was going through.

"I saw them doing all of the things that I wanted to do with him," she said quietly as she walked into the house and unclipped Piñón's lead. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't watch it, I couldn't watch him pretend to be with her while I sat at home, looking after his dog."

She scratched Piñón's ears. Piñón, who, at that moment, she'd miss most of all.

Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minseok-smaus @formulaal @darleneslane @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03 @hollie911 @customsbyjcg-blog @honethatty12 @nikfigueiredo @not-nyasa

Series Taglist (OPEN):@juleswrites223 @ellessssssxzxz @itsjustkhaos @booksandflowrs @landossainz @laneyspaulding19 @sleepybrokenmelle @92spcy @khaylin27 @princessria127 @aexitizen-ln4 @russellette @cmleitora @shobaes @val-writes @rehenys @sam-is-lost @sp1rl @seasonswinter @nmw-am

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz x reader smut #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x you #cs55 #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

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diejager · 10 months ago

Note

could I please request some dad Makarov content? there's like none out there and I think he'd actually be a good dad

I just wanna see him with his own cute little babies

Cw: fluff, ballerina, proud dad!Makarov, protective behaviour, tell me if I missed any. Note: every dialogue written in italic is spoken in Russian.

Your father was the loveliest person you knew. Vladimir Makarov may be an initimidating person with all his smarts and slyness, but he was soft and tender, a loving father and a caring provider to your life. He was all you’d known, you didn’t know your mother, your grandparents, your uncles and aunts, or any cousins, but all you needed was him, your father. He gave you all you needed and didn’t need, any wish or after though conjured up with his endless amount of money, pampering you with luxuries and comfort few knew.

You didn’t have friends, but you knew your father’s allies - he insisted that you called them allies because he’d never considered them friends. He told you that they were below him and you, dogs on a tight leash that would follow him as long as he gave them what he promised - they were prominent figures in your life, passing or stopping by Makarov’s well-fortified mansion to speak to him in his office, the one you once compared to a war room when you were young, your nose buried in fantasy books to fulfill your need to explore the world when all that was within your reach was inside your golden cage.

The world on the other side of the wall was a stranger —a danger, your father mumbled to you at night, promising that he’d protect you as long as he still breathed. You were homeschooled, the bests academics invited to tutor you since you were young, from mathematics and literature to language and politics, you were taught by the best, in the little office Makarov kept renovating as you aged. He changed the desk, then the chair, and when the paint started yellowing, he had the whole room repainted in a soft sage to compliment your bright mind. You father was such a perfect parent that you hated disappointing him, you did all you could to reach his expectations and listened to his orders.

“Мой изящный Лебедь,” he clapped his hands, his eyes gleaming proudly as he watched you twirl and dance in the polished floor of your home studio, “That was beautiful.” [My graceful Swan.]

Your black tutu rose as threw your leg up, twirling on the hard pad of your toes, giving your father a practice show for Cinderella. You always danced for him, letting him probe and give you advice and critiques of your form. Finishing the dance off with a low bow, your legs crossed and feet spread horizontally, you smiled joyfully at him when his claps grew louder. Rising up, your met him halfway, jumping into his arms when he spread them open, peppering your face with sweet and loving kisses, his scruffy beard itching you.

“It was perfect, you make me so proud,” he held onto you, his warm hands running smoothly over your biceps, herding you out of the studio he had built to let you practice, “You deserve a gift, my little Swan. Is there anything you want?”

“Nothing you can buy me, papa, ” you shook your head, burying your face in his chest when he sat you down on the regal, red couch.

“Then?”

“I want to go see the flowers again, papa, when they’re in full bloom. Can we?”

A soft chuckle rumbled out of his chest, he breathed in your comforting scent, nose nuzzling your hairline with a smile, small and adoring for his sole child.

“Yes, of course.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

#x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 #cod makarov #mw3 makarov #makarov #call of duty makarov #vladimir makarov #makarov x reader #Father!makarov #Dad!makarov #platonic relationships #female!reader #fem!reader

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leaderwon · 10 months ago

Text

come back i still need you

paring : nonidol!jungwon x reader

warnings : character death, ANGST left and right, mentions of being depressed

word count : 1.5k

luna's diary : kinda shed a tear writing this

IT HAD BEEN, 3 weeks and 6 days, since you left him.

He was stuck in the endless loop of the 4th stage of grief. Depression, and was left wondering if he'll ever move forward to the next stage and accept your death.

Oh how cruel the world was. Taking away his lover and the plans for the future you guys had carefully planned.

You guys were walking on the street on the day it happened. Giggles filling the both of your bodies as a silver band of ring with a small diamond shined on your ring finger. He had just proposed to you, with promises of giving you everything he had to offer, of staying by your side until his last breath, to grow up even more and have little yous running around. Maybe you could get a dog and a cat and live in a beautiful home.

And then it happened.

He still remembers the way you shoved him to the side as a car came speeding towards you. Your yells still ringing in his ears from the past 3 weeks.

He remembers slowly walking to you trying to take in what just happened. In the corner of his eye he could see the once silver, shiny ring now covered in blood. Your blood. It was everywhere. He felt sick to his stomach. He cradled your face as he broke into sobs. "No no this can't be happening baby wake up" He called out for you as his sobs turned into a breakdown. He saw the light in your eyes slowly disappear. He saw the love of his life leave him, even though you were right there.

2 days later, it was your funeral. As everyone showed him sympathy and gave him hugs. He was still in denial. The first stage of grief. He couldn't even count the amount of times he heard "let me know if you need anything, Jungwon". He needed you back in his arms, but none of the people could give him that. There's no way you could have just left, right? What about the promises? The home? The dog and the cat? mini yous?

Few days later, he slowly slipped into the second stage of grief. Anger. He was mad at no one but himself. He should have been the one to die, not an angel like you. The car should have hit him. Not you. Or maybe he was mad at you too? why would you sacrifice yourself and leave him alone?

Then came in the third stage of grief. Bargain. He prayed and prayed that this would be a long painful nightmare. No way the world could have been so cruel on him. He was just 20 wanting to see life with you by his side, there's no way his fate was written like this.

After realising that this wasn't a dream, and you really were gone, entered the 4th stage of grief. Depression. He was an empty void as he laid on his bed all day leaving all his friends worried. He only got up to eat, which was very rare by the way. Leaving the texts his friends sent him on delivered, he read the last conversation you had with him. Where he mentioned the date and that he had a surprise for you and your excited text messages as a small smile crept on his lips. How he wished he never took you out.

Come back. He still needs you.

It was a new day as the sun shone through Jungwon's curtains. Today, was your one month anniversary, of you getting engaged and also since you left. Today was the worst of all days. It had been a month? no way. "i wish i could turn back time and change everything" he mumbled.

"Time" he jolted up as he remembered something you said about turning back time. Hope rushed through his eyes as he swiftly got out of his bad and rushed to take a shower and get ready. He could not believe he did not think of this sooner. Getting dressed, he rushed out of his home. Coming back taking the ring you once wore in his hands and heading to his car.

"I'm going to get you back, my love"

20 minutes later he reached your apartment. He did not have the courage to step into your apartment after your death. Opening the door he smelled your familiar scent for the first time in a month. Not wanting to waste time, he got in and rummaged through your belongings. "Where is it, god damn".

Finally spotting the shiny wooden box. He picked it up seeing a necklace with a tiny clock in it. Wearing it, he saw as it started to glow.

"How may I help you today?" a voice spoke out as he looked at a beautiful woman in front of him.

"Who must you be? you're not one of them" The voice continued referring to your blood line. "I'm Yang Jungwon, I lost my lover in a car accident, exactly a month ago from now"

"You wish to bring her back?" The voice questioned him. "Yes I need to please. She mentioned about this pendent to me a while back. You need to help me" He replied begging. "Jungwon, I'd suggest you move on. You'll lose yourself if anything goes downhill, and there are less number of chances of it going good and it going bad." The female figure said showing sympathy. "Please, miss. I don't have anything to lose anymore, she was my everything" He said breaking down into a sob.

Sighing, she touched the pendent on his colar. "What time do you want to go to?" she asked giving in. "Exactly a month ago" He said as the necklace started to glow again. "Goodluck, Jungwon" she said.

He was going to make sure you were alive. But at what cost?

In a blink of an eye, he was back. On the street, with you. "I honestly didn't expect you to do it today" Your voice said. Oh how he missed your voice, to see your face in front of him again and to hold his hand. He suddenly remembered why he was here as he became hyper-aware of his surroundings. He knew the car would be coming your way any second. Before he could think of changing your position, it was too late. The car was already coming towards you at an increasing pace. There was no way he could save the both of you.

So he did what he initially came back for.

He saved you.

Shoving your body to the side, he felt the car hit him as he lost consciousness. The last thing he saw was you standing and looking at him in utter shock. Atleast you were safe and alive.

"Jungwon? baby hey, wake up" you cradled his face and broke down into sobs, the same way he did, in another time line. You left a peck on his forehead as you left him there rushing to your apartment.

I'm not going to lose you Jungwon. Not like this.

You rummaged through your belongings, the same way he did. Wearing the pendent, you wished to go back 20 minutes from your present.

You were back with him, on the same street, holding his hand as you listened to him talk to you. You knew the time was near as you walked faster looking for a turn that could divert you form the path in which it was about to happen. Before you could find something, you heard the car's tire screech behind you. There was no way you could save the both of you.

So you did what you initially came for.

You saved him.

You shoved him to the side as the car came in contact with your body. The last thing you saw, was him. Atleast he was safe and alive.

He slowly walked to you trying to take in what just happened. In the corner of his eye he could see the once silver, shiny ring now covered in blood. Your blood. It was everywhere. He felt sick to his stomach. He cradled your face as he broke into sobs. "No no this can't be happening baby wake up" He called out for you as his sobs turned into a breakdown. He saw the light in your eyes slowly disappear. He saw the love of his life leave him, even though you were right there.

Fast forward to him wishing of going back to a month prior to save you. He managed to save you, but lost his life. Not being able to manage with the grief of him gone, you tried to save him. You managed to do so, but you lost yours in exchange. And this continued.

The woman was right afterall when she warned the two you.

Trying to save eachother, the both of you were stuck and lost yourselves in an endless time loop.

@leaderwon 2024. Do not copy, translate,alter or plagarize in any platform.

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lovers-rck · 1 year ago

Text

summary after a day of patroll, ellie come back into your arms

pairing ellie williams, fem!reader

intentional lowercase, +18

☆

"how was patroll?" you asked from the bed, watching ellie come out of the bathroom, pearls of water falling down her hair. she shook her head like a dog, laughing as droplets fell on your face.

"good, i guess" she crawled to where you were, your legs covered by the blanket "we found some canned food, and an old gossip magazine"

"really?" she nodded, sitting by your side and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear "can i see them?"

ellie laughed at your excitement. she was very familiar with your fascination about learning what the world was like before, how people behaved and what they talked about. Ellie wasn't as interested, but enjoyed listening to you talk about anything.

she pretended to forget to tell you that the magazines were picked up especially for you "sure, you can keep them"

"i wish i was there"

she smiled, not wanting to talk about gossip magazines but about you, looking at your face, caressing your cheek "i like you here, where you are safe" ellie moved closer "i missed you"

you leaned in her hand, enjoying her touch "i missed you too" you couldn't help but smile at seeing her, seeing her safe, by your side.

you hated patroll days. you spend the day worrying, not being able to concentrate on your responsibilities and imagining terrible scenarios where ellie doesn't come home.

but she always does, doing her best out there just for you.

after a few seconds, you feel her lips in yours. her kiss is slow and delicate, trying to demonstrate you all the things she is unable to say. you lean towards her body, your hand grabbing her arm, looking for support.

you feel her tiredness in her movements, slows and lazy, it's grip losing strength as the seconds pass by.

"we should go to sleep" you murmured when you saw what direction her kiss was taking "you must be tired" you say, a weak whimper coming out of your mouth, the sound of saliva and lips hitting eachothers echoes in the room.

she groaned and grabbed your neck, kissing you more deeply "im not tired" her tongue assaulted your mouth, making you part your lips to welcome her sweetness.

except that she was tired. she was so damn tired that all her muscles felt numb. she wanted to sleep for a couple of good hours –or days but she also wanted to be with you, doing whatever.

"ellie" you whispered, your words dying in her kiss "it's late" you could hear her agitated breath, her getting more desperate "you should rest" you wanted this as much as her, but you knew that the next day ellie has to go to patroll again until late hours, and you didn't want to be the reason of her lack of sleep.

but ellie was ellie, and she didn't gave up easily. her lips traced a path to your jaw, leaving kisses as clues "can you just shut up and let me fuck you?" she murmured and you gave up, her mouth licking and bitting the skin of your neck. you moaned softly as her hands cupped your breast over the shirt –her shirt— and she start massages them. her touch is hard and possesive, making your tits hurt in pleasure, showing how needy she is.

your hands caressed the back of her neck, your breathing getting louder the moment she grabs the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to take it off your body. she quickly spread her legs to position you in between them, your naked back facing her chest.

ellie tossed her arm over your neck, grabbing your shoulder and pressing your body against her, leaving you immobilized "i really mean it when i said that i missed you today" she says in your ear, her free hand caressing your torso, playing with your nipples as you watch "did you miss me?"

you nod, watching her hand go lower "i missed you too ellie" your voice high pitched as she cup your cunt over your panties.

your whimper when she start making little circles in your clit, feeling your underwear become wet with just a little touch. she spreads your legs and locks them with her own to keep you still and open to her.

her fingers move your underwear to the side, finally making contact with your heat. you inhale deeply when she drags her finger in your folds, collecting all the wetness and spreading it in your clit, filthy sounds fill the room.

ellie's movements are not slow and lazy anymore, her grip in your shoulders is strong and hee fingers move with decision, making you feel like only she knows. she smiles to herself when you drop your head on her shoulder and start to play with your nipples unconsciously, enjoying yourself.

your moans get louder and louder as ellie trace circles on your clit, pressing from time to time, teasing you. you feel her wet mouth in your neck one more time, bitting and kissing after, her moaning softly at your reaction.

something about you being almost naked and ellie being fully clothed get you off, driving you to the edge. she put a finger inside you and start pumping in and out, tearing desperate moans from you "you like that?" she murmure and you nod

you feel her finger curl inside and you have to grab her arm for support, your breast moving slightly at her thrusts "ellie..." you whine.

"tell me what you need" she says "ellie" you continue, too lost in pleasure to even understand a word of what she is saying. ellie decides to add another finger and watch how your cunt swallows her digits with a wet sound, feeling your walls get tight with every thrust. she moves faster and in a matter of seconds you are moaning and whining her name.

"im here" she says, "im the one fingering you babe" she says in a chuckle, her pace not getting any slower "fuck off" you replied laughing and moaning at the same time. ellie leaves a kiss in your head and curls her fingers.

"im... ellie..." your voice is getting desperate, your lip almost bleeding by how hard you are bitting it "i can't"

"you can handle it" ellie gets deeper "cum for me"

your body paralyze when you reach your climax, quickly grabbing ellie's hand to stop her movements, your cunt over stimulated. ellie admires her shiny fingers covered in you, and without a doubt shove them in her mouth, cleaning them with her tongue. you are too occupied with your recent orgasm to react, your head falling in ellie's neck and your body curling into her's.

she takes off her hoodie to put it on you, your limp body obeying her and receiving the warmth of her clothes. she leaves a kiss in your forehead and tucks you under the sheets next to her body, your head on her chest "you are the one who is tired now" she says

"i can't imagine why" you murmur, your eyes half close, relaxing into her warmth "don't forget about that magazines"

she laughed and hugged you more into her "i will not forget you freak" you smiled into her chest "you are obsessed with those people"

"obviously" the cloud of sleep started to posses you "can you imagine not having to hunt to eat?"

"no"

"exactly" you said in a yawn.

#ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #ellie williams x reade #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader

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bbieangel · 4 months ago

Note

Love the Joel fic!!! plsssss do an Arthur cramps one!!!

Moon Cycle — Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

A/N: I loved writing this! It's my first time writing anything that's not set in the present world so please bare with me <3 And yes, the title is a reference to Melanie Martinez's song :) As always, thank you for your requests and I hope you love it!

Summary: Even when you try to act tough, Arthur Morgan always sees right through you. And, the day you finally allow yourself to feel weak, he's there to help you with your cramps.

Tags: Fluff! A LOT OF FLUFF. High honor Arthur. Self-deprecating Arthur, we all know how he talks to himself. Mentions of his past (Eliza and Mary Linn), reader has a uterus and is menstruating, she doesn't wear the typical clothes that women used in the 1800's (think of it more like Sadie, she dresses like her). This is set before Arthur even knows he's sick.

Word count: 7.8k

Divider by @/peony chance on Pinterest!

Since day one, you had never failed to amaze the whole Van Der Linde gang with your dirty mouth and ways of pissing off Miss Grimshaw. To say the least, they had grown fond of you. And even if you could look after yourself just fine, you laid awake in your cot endless nights just wishing someone was there for you in times where you felt the most vulnerable, needing attention like the dog the gang had adopted. He always ran around, sniffing everyone and looking for any hand that would give him back scratches.

One particular day you had gone out to rob a stagecoach that a guy in Rhodes had told you about. Dutch assigned you to go along with Arthur, the gruff looking, almost giant man. But you knew he hid something else behind his blue-green eyes that often held a hint of tenderness whenever he looked your way.

"Now, stay right behind me, princess."

He muttered as he covered his face behind the rock you were prompted at, making sure the drivers didn't see you.

You groaned. Of course that, out of all of the women in camp, he would call you princess. But he didn't do it for the reasons you thought.

"Call me by my name, Morgan."

You muttered and he let out a deep chuckle, rumbling through his chest and sending butterflies to your stomach. But you wouldn't let your face show that, after all, you kinda liked being called princess by him.

The stagecoach robbery was a success, feeling like a breath of fresh air after what seemed like the gang had been cursed or just ran out of good luck.

Arthur counted the money effortlessly, the flicking of his fingers looking elegant. It was ridiculous, you thought as he you waited for your part.

"Don't forget to give some to camp, princess."

He said, pointing a finger at you. But he knew not to worry about you contributing to the little box Dutch had beside his tent, he had seen you do it more times than anyone else in the gang.

"You don't need to worry about me contributing, Arthur."

You said with a soft smile as you both rode back to camp, side by side, enjoying the nice weather and the views.

—

Later that day, you were sitting up against a log in front of the campfire. A bead of sweat fell down the side of your face and into your shirt. Arthur was going to tease you about it, but he held himself back when he saw the slight frown on your face and your knees being held against your chest.

He sighed, knowing that caring about you wasn't the best decision. He couldn't bring himself to like anyone else, not after Eliza and Mary. But that soft, empathetic part of him was stronger than any of his insecurities, and it needed to know if you were okay. Which you clearly weren't.

He slowly sat down beside you with a look of concern on his face, and placed his calloused hand on your shoulder.

"You alright, princess? Did you get hurt? You should've told me—"

"I didn't get hurt."

You interrupted him. You were about to snap at him for teasing you, but when you looked into his eyes, glowing by the fire crackling in front of you, you noticed he was being genuine. So your expression softened, and he saw it, making his heart flutter and long to open up to you more.

"I'm.. I have cramps. It's that time of the month.."

You spoke quietly. You had grown to know it wasn't okay to talk about it, let alone tell a man about it. They found it disgusting, a woman bleeding monthly was seen almost as a sin, something you couldn't talk about.

But Arthur couldn't care less. He had killed people and had seen countless bodies, massacred by some fool. Hell, he'd seen his son be born. He could handle speaking about a monthly small amount of blood coming out of a woman's body naturally.

"I understand. Is there anything I can do for you?"

He asked, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Why wasn't he acting disgusted by what you just said? Why didn't he tell you to just suck it up?

It took you a few seconds to answer.

"I—Uhm.. I don't know, actually. Can you help me get to my tent? I think I might've stained my clothes and I don't wanna get teased about it."

You spoke, your eyes darted towards the fire once again. It was fine if he declined, you would understand. But, once again, he surprised you.

"Yeah, let's go."

He said and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, helping you up. He looked behind his shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention to see the small stain in your pants, and led you to your tent.

"I've heard.."

He cleared his throat before speaking, the slight pink tint on his cheeks gave away the soft embarrassment he felt.

"I've heard that peppermint or chamomile tea helps, the ladies were talking about it the other day."

He said and you couldn't help but smile softly.

"Yeah, it does. I just ran out of both herbes."

At that, he raised an eyebrow. Why didn't you tell him? He would've gone looking for some if it brought you comfort. And, against his better judgement, he chose to speak.

"You should've told me. I'll make sure to bring you some."

He spoke gruffly, but unable to hide his growing softness and tenderness for you.

When he helped you into your cot, he made sure to cover you with a blanket before turning on his heels to go away. He figured you might want to be left alone.

"Wait."

You called out to him. You knew better than to call over a man who wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet between anyone's eyes, but a part of you knew he only did it when absolutely necessary. And that he would never, ever touch a hair on your body.

"Can you.. stay a little while?"

You asked, your cheeks turning a cute rosey shade. At that, he gave you a light chuckle.

"Yeah, 'course."

He sat down on the edge of your cot. You could see the sympathetic look in his eyes when your face would scrunch up every time a cramp hit harder.

"I'm not usually like this, I can take the pain—"

"No need to explain to me. I know it hurts and I don't need you to act tough all the time."

He cut you off, easing some of the embarrassment you felt. Maybe it was stress, maybe your hormones were fighting against you, but this cycle felt different. It hurt a lot more, making you sweat as you tried to deal with the pain.

The tension between the both of you only continued to grow, hidden desires behind your eyelids that none of you could speak about. Heartbreaks and loss were two things you were too familiar with, and couldn't bring yourself to experience once again.

So he didn't speak as he laid beside you, carefully, treating you as if you were made out of porcelain and he didn't want to hurt you. His hand went to your lower stomach and began moving it gently, massaging the zone.

You let out a sigh of relief—how did he know exactly what to do? As if reading your thoughts, he spoke:

"Mary told me this works. I didn't figure it out on my own."

He spoke quietly, and you felt kinda bad. How could she be such a fool to break up with such a kind man?

"Even if you didn't figure it out on your own, I'm grateful you know about it."

You spoke softly.

"Can I tell you something, Arthur?"

You asked, you heart pounding in your chest as if it wanted out just to be gifted to Arthur.

"'Course, princess."

He responded, his hand never stopped moving as he saw the look of relief in your face. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he noticed it was working.

"You're a good man. And anyone who doesn't see that, is a fool. A damn, blind fool."

You spoke and his eyes widened at that, letting you take in more of the particular color they had. You were so close to him yet none of you could move.

"I ain't much of a good person, princess. I've done things I'm not proud of, killed folks just because.. There's a price on my head."

He said, looking at you with that self-deprecating look he gave anyone who even dared to call him good. He wasn't good, he was a fool who didn't know how to be kind, how to be good. Or at least, that was what he thought of himself.

But on the contrary, you didn't see him that way, and he knew. So you doubled down, going along with your stubborn nature.

"Well, to me you are good. And nothing will change my mind about that."

You spoke in a firmer tone, placing a hand on top of his shoulder and rubbing it softly. He swore you could feel the way his heart jumped at your small gesture.

After a few minutes of just contemplating each other's faces, trying to read each other's minds, he spoke.

"You deserve someone better than me."

At that, you frowned. He couldn't tell you what you deserved and what you didn't, who you could or couldn't like.

"No one has ever cared about my cramps before. No one... No man has taken the time to try and make me feel better."

His expression softened. How could anyone treat you badly about something that wasn't your fault? But again, he reminded himself, it was 1899. You didn't live in a fair world.

"I couldn't just let you be in pain."

"Exactly."

You said. Everything he did or said was just another reason as to why you considered him a good man. After fighting against your fears, your mind, your insecurities, you leaned slightly closer. What were you doing? You didn't know. But the sight of his lips covered by his always perfectly trimmed moustache was something almost magnetic that pulled at your heartstrings right when you were the most vulnerable and needy.

"Princess..."

He tried to protest. His breathing hitched as he felt you slightly closer, his eyes kept darting towards your plush lips without even thinking. His heart thumped against his chest in a way that almost hurt.

"Do you trust me?"

His eyes shot up at yours. Of course he trusted you, even if a part of his brain begged him not to, he wasn't doing what his brain wanted. He was following his heart at this point, and his heart wanted you. Only you.

"I do."

He responded, his deep voice was now soft.

"Then.. Let me."

You whispered and pressed your lips against his, without giving your brain the possibility to make you think about it twice. You stayed still as you waited for him to pull away, to shut you down and never talk to you again.

But he kissed you back. He kissed you back, and his hand tangled on your hair as he did. Every move, every action was so gentle, so careful. And you couldn't be more grateful for that.

His other hand never left your lower stomach. He was determined to end with your cramps, even if his own hand ended up cramping after massaging your skin for so long.

He didn't leave your side that night. If anything, the whole situation only brought the two of you closer, to the point where he would look for excuses to sleep with you all curled up against him. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding your frame up against his chest. All while keeping a soft smile on his face even when he slept.

Because what started with the two of you being scared of letting anyone else in, ended up with Arthur going out of his way to look for anything that would relieve your pain. He would even ride his horse for hours until he found peppermint.

But in the end: all you wanted was the warmth his body provided you with and his hand pressed against your skin.

#arthur morgan #fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fluff #romance #high honor arthur morgan #one shot #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 community #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader

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penvisions · 23 days ago

Text

gone to the dogs {chapter 7}

Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: Tensions run high as you can't seem to recover from your bout of sickness even though Tess is back on her feet and helping the newest member of your pack sort out some things. Neither of you had told Joel yet, bidding your time until some things are taken care of but you have a feeling it's more than just that if Tess's determined silence is anything to go by...

Word Count:

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical gore, outbreak fic, mean joel miller, degrading language, violence, heated interactions, adult language, fighting, references to injuries, blood, sexual content, rough sex, p in v, smut, unprotected p in v (it's the end of the world, y'all), sexual propositions, oral (f receiving), talk of pregnancy, angst, reference to off screen assault, medical jargon, mentions of nausea, mentions of past trauma, mentions of canon death, mentions of past childloss, i think that's it for this one!

Fic notes: we are officially 10 years into the apocalypse! joel is 46 at this point and cane is early 30's, but please imagine her to look anyway you want! these are just rough estimates and descriptions that are not set in stone as per the x reader tradition. simply a way for me to get the story fleshed out a bit c:

A/N: this fic really just got so big and it can't possibly be contained to the original ten chapters when i first started it. these two have really taken the reigns and i am all for letting them develop and flourish as they wish ♡♡

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Joel scrubs a hard hand over his face, brushing away as much of the ash and dirt as he can as he lowers the bandana wrapped around his head as a mask. It’s not much, but it eases his mind enough for him to keep using it.

He’s been pulling more shifts, as many as they could give him. You and Tess both being sick was something that worried him, stressed him out. The dangers of the end of the world were rampant, too many to count and keep track of. A weakened immune system brought on by fever and sickness was something from Before that he had completely lost the notion of.

Seeing you beaten up and bruised from fights or shows of power, from hard days working whatever shitty physical labor the zone needed done or from crawling your way through the rubble of the fallen city around them in search of things to trade and sell- it was different. Different than seeing you wrapped up in all the thin blankets in the shared apartment, that he could get his hands on only to still see the shivers that rack your body and chitter your teeth together. It was different than seeing you barely manage to keep water down to take the pills he paid far too much for only for you to gag on the weight of it settling in your empty stomach.

The scraps of chicken and bone he managed to trade for had cost so many ration cards. But the medicine, the stock he was able to pull from the bone- all of it was worth it for you and Tess to start to get better.

Well, Tess was better. You were…you were…are still sick. No longer plagued by fevers, cold spells, and heat flashes. But your stomach was unsettled, and your appetite was borderline gone, the weight you dropped a little concerning and the color drained from your skin.

He’s been playing caretaker to whatever extent you’ll allow him when he’s in the privacy of your shared apartment. Even if it’s as simple as refilling your mug with hot water for a second cup of tea, of collecting the bowl you had used to try and eat something with before he got home. He’s willing to do it, to do more. But you won’t let him. Determined to hold onto your independence in a way that both makes him proud and feel a little useless.

So he works. To provide. To make it easier. To give you space. Doing the long standing trades, showing his face more on that side of things while you’re unable to do so. Tess now, too, is back at it and it seems like you’ve given her clear orders on who to trade with and who not to as the weather grows colder.

But right now all he can focus on is the sprawled out form of you on the bed. Sheets and blankets tossed and kicked to the end of the bed and nearly crumpled on the floor as you pant heavy breaths while trying to find a comfortable position to fall back asleep.

The baser instincts in him rise at the smell of sweat and the sounds your making, the slight groan of the mattress beneath your wiggling form. it’s not that he wants it for himself, well, not just that he wants it for himself. But your body is stressed, it’s fighting, mind and nervous system out of whack. He’s on you the second he steps over the threshold into the room, determined to give you some sort of relief. To give you something else other than seemingly endless days of sickness and being unwilling to leave the building.

“Joel, ‘m still sick.” You mumble halfheartedly, that tug in your navel letting you know that despite everything, your body still sings for him- because of him. And it’s intoxicating, the immediate reaction as you feel plush lips against your skin, feel the weight of his body so close.

“Don’t matter, want you.”

His kisses are like fire, trailing down from your chin where he nips hard to your neck and chest. Tank top pulled up as carefully as he could manage, ridding you of the thin fabric. His lips close around hardened peaks to pull out desperate sounds from you, so sensitive to the soothing swipe of his tongue after biting teeth. His nose skims across your skin, the sharpness of it driving you wild as his hands make quick work of removing the pants you had fallen asleep in.

His teeth nip gently at the swollen lips of your cunt through the fabric of your underwear before he breaths in deep. “Gonna get you outta your head for a bit.”

And like a switch, your mind and body only focus on him.

The drag of his nose over the same place, the tug of his fingers pulling the now damp fabric down. The hot, thick line of his cock against your legs as he pulls them up to bend into your chest. His tongue swipes flat over your folds, delving between them after, shockwaves of pleasure so intense after experiencing nothing but aches and pains for the last couple of weeks. It pulls a moan deep from your chest, the responsive chuckle earning him another as you feel the vibrations of it skitter across your skin.

He's pulling pleasure from you like he was made for it, his knowledge of your body all he committed to memory and you’re crying out within minutes. His fingers grip the backs of your thighs, spreading them to make room for his body to line of with yours and then he’s pushing in slowly. Through a crack of your eyelid, you see his focus on where the two of you connect, brown eyes dark and hair slicked back save for one stray curl folded over his temple. Teeth gritted and breath hissing as he fills you, slowly, taking in the sight for what it is, feeling it for what it is, living up to his promise to get you out of your head as he bottoms out and your mouth goes slack.

“Theeeere we go, huh, darlin’?” One of his hands snake up to grip your chin gently, pulling your thrown back head toward him. Thick fingers caress the too hot skin there and his eyes soften as your own fly open when he leans forward to press a kiss to the tip of your nose, the obscene sound of him pushing in deeper and your walls clenching around him. “Look at those pretty eyes, starin’ up at me with nothing behind them, that’s exactly what we wanted, wasn’t it?”

All you can do it try to nod, his hand so large cradling the side of your face, his lips so tantalizingly close but your body is frozen, the breath caught in your throat as you pulse around him, pleasure rippling through your body as he throbs deep inside you. He must see the way they tremble and he closes his mouth around yours, giving you exactly what you wanted without you needing to ask. When he pulls back, his teeth glint in the faint light seeping in through the window.

“Don’t gotta think about nothin’ else but how full you feel. Deserve to turn your thoughts off and just focus on gettin’ fucked.”

He’s pulling back a bit, his knees caging you in as they squeeze around your hips.

You can barely take a breath before he’s slamming back in and it’s pushed from your lungs.

Over and over again.

The day starts off normally, a plan in motion to tell Joel once he returns from one of his shifts. Tess spends the day helping to move most of Jean’s stuff out of the shitty apartment she had been given alongside two other single girls. Not enough room for her to even have her own space. But Tess was willing to give up her bedroom and move into the living room to provide some semblance of privacy and control for the young girl. You had taken her to the clinic, as well. Dropped her off and were due to pick her up any moment now, but you’re kneeled down in front of the toilet.

Your own sickness seems to linger while Tess is back in good health. Her color coming back while yours remains pallor, hot flashes and cold spells waring underneath your skin and making you nauseous. You were doing your best to hide the worst of the symptoms from Joel, not wanting him to feel like he needed to use the stock of goods and cards for more medicine that only worked at first. You’re just grateful that awful cough that rattled your brain and hurt your throat was gone, the phlegm that seemed to either clog up your sinuses or run far too freely gone as well. It had been a bad chest cold, same as Tess and you didn’t understand why you were better, but you weren’t…better.

You had given blood at the clinic, just to be cautious.

Because you were beginning to get worried. Between the new responsibility of caring for and protecting Jean, the rather startling reach out from Bill concerning new habits from Frankie he’s developed and the increasing scarcity of things to find in the city, you were feeling a slow simmering panic begin to form in the back of your mind and weigh down your mental and physical resolve.

The cold chill settling in the air wasn’t helping, telling you that it was about to get a while lot worse as the temperature dropped and winter weather became a daily struggle on top of it all. Snow and ice in Boston was normal this time of year, to begin falling from the sky and form on the ground.

Picking Jean up from the clinic was supposed to be a simple task. But you honestly don’t remember much of it. The ringing in your ears had started once the doctor had turned to you and read the results of your own testing. Effectively pulling the entire god damn earth’s crust from beneath your feet. You don’t remember the trek back to the apartment, nor the way that Jean was glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. Bottom lip between teeth as she contemplated commenting on same diagnosis that was read to you.

Shock. You were in shock. Mind reeling from the fact that now there wasn’t just one pregnancy to navigate, but two.

All you know is the startling cold of porcelain seeping through the towel you had placed over the top of the lid as you knelt in the bathroom once again. Stomach heaving and throat burning, heart beating far too fast as you struggled to regain your breath. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, a sharp contrast in how hot they were compared to the tile that surrounded you.

Just as you managed to stand up from your rather humbling position in front of the toilet again, you hear it.

The boom of Joel’s voice through the thin walls.

He was home early.

And Tess must’ve just told him what you two have been handling the past few days.

Keeping as silent on your feet as possible, not wanting to sound the creaks of your aged flooring, you inch into the living room and move into the kitchen. His voice is clear as a bell and angry.

“It’s just another fucking human being that’s going to be subjected to a shitty life and even shittier people. How do you think that kid is gonna feel when they learn about how they were conceived? You think she’s gonna be able to sit her kid down and explain to them the shit she had to endure? That she was raped and it was either go through with the birth or risk her life ending the pregnancy? You think that’s any kind of thing to put on child in this god forsaken world?”

“Joel, she’s scared. She said you told her to come to you for help. And Cane and I are an extension of that-“ Tess’s voice is raised, an attempt to wrangle in Joel’s own but its fruitless. You’ve only heard him sound like this when he deals with less than savory trade partners. You’ve only heard him when it was that first year of knowing him. When he didn’t trust you or share your bed. Before the shadow of a life you two slowly and carefully curated together.

“Just cause y’all are women doesn’t mean you know better about this than me. Don’t you try to pull that sexist bullshit with me, Tess. You know just as well as I do that bringing a new life into this world is a mistake. The risks of pregnancy before were deadly, with the help of machines and medicine. But now?”

He scoffs loud enough for you to hear it through the walls. You don’t flinch, though you know you would’ve once upon a time. There’s truth in his words, no matter how he’s weaponizing it to prove his point. To deny getting involved in the situation.

“Now she’s as good as dead if she goes through with it. And what if she does manage to give birth to a healthy baby and she’s the one stuck paying the price? Bleeds out or needs to be cut open, then there’s just another orphan the system is gonna abuse and use for their twisted sense of righteousness.”

“Joel-“

“She’s gonna be stuck with a kid, do you realize how much time and effort and work is gonna go into that and it’s all gonna fall on us. On me. And I am too fucking old for this shit.” You can hear silence that greets his harsh words, the raw and unfiltered emotions he feels on the matter. You knew Tess had a kid before all this and it must be hard for her to grapple with the reality of the situation. Especially as it brings up memories and her own past emotions. “There is no way in hell this is going to work out.”

“She came to us for help, Joel. You instilled in her that you would look after her, no matter what. And guess what? This is something big! She can live here with me, I can…I can help her through the rough patches, I know what it’s like to have a less than smooth time of it.”

“Tess…”

“I’m going to help her, Joel. From one mother to a prospective one. As a parent, I would think you feel at least a little connected to the issue at hand.” That gave you as much pause as it seemed to Joel. The silence that permeated the air was heavy, crackling tension palpable even through the walls.

“This is dangerous, this is stupid and reckless. Children aren’t a blessing, they’re a curse.” His even but thudding steps could be heard as he makes his way to the door. You’re still in shock a few moments later when it doesn’t slam shut, it doesn’t even open. He must’ve turned around and you can almost picture him looking over his shoulder. All broad and brooding, angry. “This is a mistake.”

With no other outlet for what you’re feeling, you shove your hands into the sleeves of your jacket and grab your keys from the nails they hang on beside the door. Glancing on the sleeping form of Jean on the couch, you’re relieved that she’s in a deep enough sleep to not hear the harsh words of the man who she had sought out for help.

You don’t even dare glance at the end of the hallway, not knowing what you would do if you glimpsed Joel at this moment.

And that scared you.

That you didn’t know if you would curl up into his chest, wrap your arms around his neck or waist and burrow your face into him. Inhale his scent and be comforted by the way he holds you back. Or if you would scold him for his choice of words, for the way he’s backtracking suddenly as the situation turns now to something he doesn’t have the patience and energy to deal with.

That you didn’t know if the words would immediately fall from your lips or stay lodged in your throat and suffocate you.

He had given Jean his attention, his protection, his word that he would look out for her. And he’s standing there determining the course of her future that would best benefit him. That would work in his favor, to not have to deal with something so monumentally important. The news isn’t the best, it isn’t born of a decision between two consenting adults who are determined to nurture and love. Hell, you aren’t even sure if Jean had ever admitted to wanting to be a mother beyond not feeling right with doing away with her condition. But it was something, it was someone.

Hope. It was hope you were feeling as you sped down the hallway and away from the harsh words that hang in the air.

Hope for a future that isn’t the same damn thing day in and day out. Fighting and hustling for supplies, for food, for water, for space in a crowded zone. That isn’t protecting your territory and your smuggled items, that isn’t holding fast to your going rates as people challenge them and clamor for them because even if you did want to provide things that were hard to find or considered contraband, you still needed to benefit from the effort and skills that go into supplying them.

The news Jean brought to you, born of devastation and immoral means, could be the universe’s push of urging you toward something else. Your own news born of a moment of passion under the influence with someone who you found rare solace and genuine companionship with. The naïve notion of taking it in stride and shifting everything for the better, for the hope of making something of the situation you’ve landed yourself in is a painful one. Cultivating and nurturing goodness back into the world where you could, back into your life that had become so violent and overwhelming in its eat or be eaten nature.

You’ve been violent for so long, have had to be violent for so long. The world demanding it of you if you wanted to survive, to breath, to live to see another tortured day. And all those days that it seemed like too monumental a task, too hard a thing to commit to once again. A flicker of your old, weaker self rising up and arguing that there was no point, that it was useless to survive a hard day and the only reward was another string of them. But now you know why it was imperative that you stuck with it, defending yourself, protected yourself, used teeth and nails and haunting violence to make sure you saw the sun rise each morning and set each night over a world that was decimated beyond help.

And that reason was a phantom weight low in your belly. The new reason you would fight even harder from this point on until the moment you drew your last breath. Your child would know better than you were thrust into, would know better than this broken world and mockery of what was once city life.

You would bite and claw and fight, shoot or slash anything that threatened the life you were determined to give to your child, to give back to her. That younger version of yourself lost piece by piece as things quickly fell, as people gave into temptation and damnation the second civilization crumbled.

You don’t realize the heavy words in your mind are coming out as snarled sounds every time your boots hit the ground with your fast pace. The man Jean had described was walking home, you on his tail and none the wiser about what fate was about to deliver. What you were about to deliver.

Crazy bitch. Depraved dog. Ruthless.

His insults don’t mean anything, as you stalk him through the streets and down the hallway that leads to his apartment. His pained groans and stuttered breaths mean nothing to you as you land hit after hit, they don’t give insight to anything but satisfaction that curls your lips up at the corners.

His words, Joel’s words, ring in your ears as you feel the impact of your knuckles on the man’s face. Each punch, each hit landing as the echo inside your head gets louder and louder. Those are the only ones that mean anything, the only thing that fuels your violence. The man crumpled beneath your knees deserving of every last bit even more so and you’re convinced he would feel the exact same way. He would see his own actions as righteous, taking what was his, what was deserved- the consequences not on his mind nor something he would feel like needs his attention. An afterthought, the result of an assault he forced on someone.

All of it, everything in the entire world was just- mistake, mistake, mistake. After goddamn mistake.

But this? Delivering retribution on the man who is weaker than you ever were, it feels right. It feels like something you’re meant to do. Despite the depravity and brutality of the sentence you’ve given him, it’s a step in the right direction. It’s a step toward a better future.

Please. Stop. I’ll do anything you want. Take anything you want. Please- no…no!

And then he’s no longer breathing the air he doesn’t deserve.

With bruised hands, swollen knuckles and aching fingers you gather everything in his apartment into his own duffle bags hidden beneath the bed.

You leave the apartment, ignoring the cracked doorways as people peek through them to see what the scuffle was about, who had been target this time- the only thing left inside besides dirty linens and dishes is his body with a note stabbed into his chest with his pocket knife.

Don’t mess with my people.

Signed off with a stamp of ink in the shape of a paw.

And though it’s far too early to feel the weight in your belly, something settles there and you feel it the entire walk back to the apartment building, even as you stand at the sink and wash the blood from your hands. The stain of it lingers even with the aid of soap and cold water.

His figure used to be refreshing, a comforting thing to see at the end of every tumultuous day. But now, your eyes track him, take him in as if he posed a threat. As if he had done anything other than simply walk into the room, his muscles rippling with the action of removing his jacket. His scruff a dark shadow in the low light that glitters when the gray there catches the light. He’s so broad, the entire doorway filled by the width of his shoulders, the breadth of his chest. The same body you found comfort in when it curled around you or pressed down upon you. But now, it’s as if a stranger has strutted into your home for all that had happened recently.

Large, calloused hands reach for his belt, remove with a simple pull through the fabric holding it in place and you feel nausea rise at the spike of desire that pools between your legs. Feelings and urges war with each other in your mind and heart, body reacting to his as he approaches. Your head tilting into the cradle of his palm even as your mind screams at you that he doesn’t care. This is the same man who had declared loudly and determinedly that he wanted no part in the situation at hand. The one that involved a child. He hadn’t known his words were not only for another woman but for you too.

“You okay, darlin’? You look a little waxy there. The meds workin’ alright or do I need to go and get some more from the infirmary?”

“Fine, Joel.”

“Hey,” His eyes search yours as he tips your chin up, locking onto them and trying to find out what you’re not voicing. But he can’t seem to, because his brow furrows and the corners of his lips pull down. “You sure?”

“Had to take someone out, is all. Muscles weren’t used to being used like that.” The admittance doesn’t lift any of the weight in your chest, but the words are out. No longer caged between your ribs with the other secrets you now carry.

“Tell me you didn’t.” He takes a step back, and he’s not upset…but he’s- something. How were you supposed to know it was fear, when you swallowed yours down so long ago?

“I’ll tell you I did, because it needed to be done. He didn’t deserve to breath anymore. He forced her, Joel. He manipulated her long before that and then when she was finally free from him, he goes and-“

“You shoulda let me handle it.”

“Why? Because I’m too weak?” The snarl in your words has him removing his hand from you, giving you space. He lets out a heavy breath as he realizes the way you had taken his worry, his fear.

The room is crackling, the energy flowing from you having built up for days, weeks now. It hadn’t bothered you at first, it hadn’t bothered you at all. Until someone had made a comment that you had been made to heel, fucked into your rightful place. Just as you had been leaving the clinic earlier that day. You had been preoccupied, yes that’s true, but that didn’t mean you had taken a step to the side and allowed for authority to shift. You had simply begun to focus more on finding things that would not only benefit the anticipated needs of the zone’s occupants, but of Bill and Frank as well. Then you had gotten sick, all of that paired with the reality you were facing alongside Jean and no one could blame you for the whirlwind that had replaced your heart.

“You’re just tired, is all. Not weak, I could’ve been there for backup.” He tries to keep calm, but you can see the way the muscle in his jaw twitches. He looks from the collection of items on the dining table, to where you had made up a nest of sorts on the couch as you had tried to get some time out of the bed you really should be swathed in to recover. “Let’s get you another dose of meds and maybe a shower.”

And you know he isn’t trying to belittle your emotions or step around them. He’s seeing them for what they are, as least as best he can. He knows you’re overwhelmed, that small things grow into big things over time, and this is one of those moments where you realize that they have and it’s completely out of your control.

“‘M fine.” You can’t help the snap of your teeth as you clench your teeth, head pounding and stomach turning. You hadn’t left for days but you had heard the rumors going around as you and Tess all but disappeared from the scene when you both fell sick. Determined to get out and reclaim some semblance of control, you reach for your coat. The clack of plastic makes you freeze, worried that the object got shoved from the depths of the inside pocket it’s hidden in.

Joel takes the moment to come up behind you, his arms wrapping around your middle. Grounding himself and attempting to ground you too, knowing there was no stopping you if you wanted to get some space. You know he wouldn’t take that from you, try to control that part of you. He needed space sometimes too, even on the good days. But this wasn’t one of them, this was a bad day. A monumentally bad one. And it’s made even heartbreakingly worse by the confession he breathes into the back of your neck, his forehead pressed to back of your head as he inhales your scent. Don’t go. Love you. Need you safe while you’re sick.

You freeze, processing.

Love you. Love you. Love you.

It echoes in your mind, his voice caressing and soothing despite everything. It calms you enough to take a deep breath, to try and center yourself for the barest of moments.

And it sounds so good, his voice quietly voicing the warmth and affection that had developed, that had been carefully cultivated between you two over the years. But as good as they sound, they don’t bring you the comfort you know he hopes that they will. Because he’s already undermined the sentiment, he’s already crumbled the very foundation of what you two stand on. It breaks your heart a little to not return the words, even as you feel them harden and catch in the middle of your throat.

“You gotta know that, by now.” He fills the silence as your body tenses in his hold.

But the timing of it, the words he had spoken so devoutly just the previous day are like shrapnel stuck in your skin, burning and stinging. No amount of picking at them will take away the damage they’ve done, clear the burns and the irritation, the pain.

“Didn’t know you were the type of man who cast aside a pregnant woman who came to you for help. A woman who you’ve done nothing but try and watch out for until this point.” Your voice is a whisper, anger bubbling up, heartbreak spilling your chest open, body almost numb from the way everything was so poetically fucked.

“You’re right, I’ve done nothing but try and watch out for her. And guess what? She still got hurt, she still got assaulted, she’s still in this goddamn situation that has no good outcomes!” He’s pulling away, you turn to face him. The darkness that had fallen as night settled is not longer comforting against the onslaught of photophobia you had been experiencing all day. Now it feels suppressive, it feels like you’re in a cage that you can’t escape from. The words Joel had said and is now saying are like locks, connecting together in a twisted way to make you feel the weight of how they can’t possibly be coming from the same person.

“Is it really that bad of a situation?”

“Is it- for fuck’s sake, Cane.” He scrubs a wide palm over his face, the scruff of his neck bristling at the action and causing goosebumps to sprout all along your arms. “I think I get a decent read on you and then you go and ask somethin’ like that. Do you not see how this will affect us? Affect everything we try to do to survive?”

His voice has shifted from anger to something that rings warning bells in your head, it’s not desperation and its not beseeching. But there’s something in the deep timbre that alights your nerves and makes you feel as if everything between you will be determined in the next choice of words. Despite how you feel, despite the way things have been going, the groove you’ve found with him and Tess. Despite the smuggling getting harder but still holding a majority of the supplies and power, and how Joel returns to you every night. Despite it all, the phantom weight you feel low in your middle compels the words that leave your lips next.

“I’m not even sure if I know what love truly is but if it’s not what I feel for you then I have no clue. It’s never simple and perhaps it just speaks to how I’m meant to be alone.”

“What’s more simple than telling me how you feel?” His eyes are narrowed, though you see the way his irises are blown out. You wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s panicking, but he’s not…he’s hadn’t expected anything other than reciprocation. And it breaks your heart, the chasm in your chest deepening as you realize you can’t gift them to him as easily as you would’ve been able to just twenty-four hours prior.

“Because I heard you, Joel!” Your words leave you in a shout, an angry frustrated cry that bursts from your chest. Unable to quell the spike of emotions, this wasn’t just about Jean anymore. “I heard you talking about how that girl you’ve taken under your wing suddenly means nothing to you the second you can’t handle the situation. The things you said, the fucking vitriol in your voice when you talked about an innocent, a baby.”

“That’s what changed your mind? Affected everything I’ve done in the past four years, we’ve done in the past four years.”

“Yes! Because you- it- because it was so hateful. Like, I get it, Joel, really. You’re a big scary man, you’ve got the brooding scowl down and the razor sharp glare, but she needs our help with this. I don’t like it anymore than you do, but I’m not about to tell her what to do with her own body. You cannot be so daft to not think that that’s not going to alter the way I think about you at least a little.”

He doesn’t seem to know how to respond, his full lips pull down into a deep frown and his brow furrows, but he doesn’t say anything else. His eyes hard, sharp on you as he watches the way you shrug your jacket on and stand in front of the door. With a hand on the knob, you look back over your shoulder with a set expression, not willing for him to see any glimpse of what’s going on in your head.

“I’m going to take Jean to Lincoln. It’ll be safer for her there, better place to raise her mistake.”

The instinct to run, to protect, to build for not one but two mistakes settles deep in your bones as you realize the notion was a solitary one. Joel’s own instincts clashing with yours. Preservation and protection flare up and make you defensive, make you willing to walk away from the life you created with someone you love, to deny them the last true thing that makes life worth living- of loving and being loved in return, they allow you push through the heartache of leaving it all behind.

“I’ll be staying there to help her through everything.”

You don’t hear the whispered plea to not leave that falls from his lips, eclipsed by the sound of the slamming door. Or you do, and it push it from your memory for all the pain it brings to recall it.

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mcflymemes · 2 years ago

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PROMPTS FOR LOTS AND LOTS OF FLIRTING ♡ * assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

what did you think after our first kiss?

what did i do to deserve you?

what are you craving right now?

i can't stop thinking about you.

you can't do that and expect me not to kiss you!

i never believed in true love until i met you.

sometimes i can't get enough of you.

my days get brighter when i think of you.

don't get mad if i fall asleep on you.

will you be mine?

you make my head spin and my knees shake.

i like it when we hold hands.

i want to grow old with you.

how do i look in your shirt?

that was really adorable.

let's skip the small talk and go straight to flirting.

i've been thinking about you all morning.

what did you think of our first date?

i could stare into your eyes forever.

come here. let me hold you for a while.

sorry, i got lost in your eyes. can you say that again?

i love your laugh.

i had a dream about you last night.

i want to spend the rest of my life by your side.

are you in the mood to have some fun?

how much skin is too much skin to show on our date tonight?

can i take you on a date?

do that again. that was really cute.

was it good for you?

you're really hot. just thought you should know.

how can you resist this face?

want to be my little spoon?

nobody understands me like you do.

i'm trying to flirt with you, but clearly it's not working.

you're so cute.

you don't know what you do to me.

i don't know what i'd do without you.

when can i see you again?

my bed smells like you.

i hope you feel the same way.

how about we take this to the bedroom?

you drive me crazy.

are you wearing my shirt? it looks good on you.

let me give you a nice, long massage.

you mean a lot to me.

you're pretty irresistable.

have you been flirting this whole time?

i thought about your smile today.

why don't you come sit with me? there's plenty of room.

it's okay if you fall asleep on me.

stay close to me.

you make everything brighter.

it's you. it's only ever going to be you.

you're cute when you blush.

i don't want to share you with anyone.

i wish i could wake up next to you every morning.

you make it hard to focus.

hey, i'm not the one with the cute smile! you are!

want to try that again?

you are my whole world.

i miss the taste of your kiss.

want to make them jealous?

i was counting down the minutes until i saw you.

you're my favorite type of distraction.

i think i'm addicted to you.

don't worry, i make a great pillow.

you're a great hugger.

you make all my dreams come true.

i can't stop thinking about last night.

i never want to know a world without you.

ever since i met you... i haven't stopped thinking about you.

you're more than enough.

let me get a good look at you.

i love everything about you.

you're a very special person.

you have amazing hands.

i promise you a weekend you'll never forget.

i have something special planned for tonight.

you're cute when you get like that.

oh no. not the puppy dog pout. you know i can't resist that.

i saw this and thought of you, so i had to get it.

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 1 year ago

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I Did it for You | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You love your children but they will always be the reminder... Pairing: fem!reader x Father in Law Jungkook Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: Yädere, suggestive and explicit language, reminders of infidelity. a/n: Okayyy here's the epilogue of the original story Do it for Him and Part two Do it for Us requested by the lovely @coralmusicblaze I hope you all enjoy the ending and thank you thank you thank you for all the love!

6 years later...

"Baby slow down!" I yell after my daughter, scared she'll hurt herself. "It's okay, she'll learn" my husband says coming up behind me wrapping one of his arms around my waist while we watch our daughter play with the family dog. "I know, but I hate watching her cry. I just wish I could protect her from everything and everyone" I say turning around to look up at him but catch his father watching our interaction from across the yard first before quickly doing what I had intended.

"I know, I do too" he says brushing the hair off of my forehead and placing a feather light kiss on it, holding both sides of my face and pulling away to look deep into my eyes. "Are you okay? You seem a bit more on edge today. Is it the baby?" he questions, hand gently caressing my stomach, now just starting to show. "Maybe but don't worry, I'm not in any pain" I say giving him a soft smile. "You better take better care of your mommy sir" he says now leaning down, eye level with my little bump.

"Honey please, they'll start staring" I say feeling flustered with his actions and urging him to stand up. "So what? I'm trying to discipline my son" he says with a fake angry face making me laugh out loud. "I just want you to be okay. After the beautiful daughter you've given me I couldn't imagine being more in love with you. And now, your body is going through it all over again to give us a son. I just want you to know how incredible you are, and how much you mean to me" he says and I break eye contact, feeling that same wave of guilt wash over me as it does time and time again.

"You mean the world to me" I say after I look away for a second, now gazing into his eyes again with mine glossing over, overcome with the devastation I feel for my past actions. "Baby are you okay?" he says, face now full of concern. "It's okay I'm fine, it's probably just these damn hormones. I'm going to go freshen up inside" I say giving him a quick kiss and making my way back into the house to take a second to collect myself.

Once inside I find myself being pulled aside instead, away from prying eyes, looking up to see the one man that I wish I could never see again. "Are you okay Pretty? I saw that you were crying out there" he says brushing the hair out of my face, just like my husband had done moments before.

"I'm fine" I say pulling back out of his grasp and making moves to leave but he grabs me by my wrist and pulls me back to him, to which I decide to surrender, knowing thats there's not much he could do to me in this setting even if he wanted to.

"How are you liking the party? I wanted to make sure that our daughter has an amazing 5th birthday". "My daughter" I spit out at him, throwing up my defenses immediately, not having the desire nor the patience to deal with this today.

"Our daughter. Or would you rather me tell my son that she's actually mine?" he threatens, raising a brow at me. I take a deep breath conceding to the one request he always has, referring to her as 'our' daughter in private. "The party is fine. She loves it and that's all that matters to me. Now if you'll excuse me" I say trying to leave but being pulled back once more.

"How is our son doing?" he questions, caressing my bump in a more provocative way than my husband had just done. "He's fine" I say grabbing his wrist and shoving it off of me and thankfully he keeps his hands to himself this time. "Is he healthy? Have you been taking care of yourself?" he questions as if he actually cares. "I told you he's fine and my wellbeing is none of your concern, it's my husband's" I say finally walking away, with him giving up on talking to me any further.

I had hoped to avoid him at all costs today but unfortunately he always wants to speak to me, and takes every chance he can to do so. As if my children are not enough of a reminder of my infidelity, he decides I need to always have it thrown in my face since, to my knowledge we are the only ones that know, and I need to keep it that way. I can't lose him, I can't lose my husband. I know day in and day out I'm digging myself deeper and deeper into this mess, him unknowingly raising his sister, thinking she's our daughter and soon will raise his brother the same way.

Every time she calls my husband dad or daddy I feel my heart break for her. If only she knew what a horrible man her true father is. The one I let manipulate me into having her and doing it all over again, guilting me into trying for a son so we can properly 'continue the family line' even though nothing about this could ever be described as proper. If I could turn back time I never would have called him back, or told him he could come over to 'talk' or play into his twisted games.

I wish I would've been stronger, more sound of mind. But I was vulnerable, and he took advantage of that. The thought of never being able to have children with the man I love breaking my heart, the disappointment on his face when all of the tests came back negative, the stress his family had placed on his shoulder.

If I could take that away from him I would, but not like this. I would've waited for the doctor, I would've waited to get more than a few months worth of treatment and tried time and time again instead of living this lie.

"Mommy! Mommy! Look what grandpa got me!" my little one calls out to me, her eyes twinkling with her own little galaxy shining through them. I wish they brought me joy, I really truly wish they did, but they remind me of her father. "Yes baby? What did he get you?" I say when she grabs my hand, dragging me along to the garage to show me the pink and purple big wheel bike. Her favorite colors...

"What do you say sweetie?" I say smiling down at her, doing my best to act accordingly when she's around. "Thank you grandpa Jeon!" she says and sits down, twisting and turning the handle bars. "Of course love. After all, I did it for you" he says, looking down at her lovingly before bringing his vision back to me, giving me a disgusting knowing smile that makes my stomach twist and turn, leaving me swallowing down the bile that I can feel rising in my throat.

"Baby are you alright?" I hear my husband say after entering the garage, rushing over to me, steading me on my feet. "I- yes I'm fine" I say clearing my throat, trying to cover how faint I started to feel. "No you're not, come on we're going back inside" he says lovingly, not believing the brave act I had tried to put on, holding my hand and wrapping his arm around me, taking a few steps to make our way back inside.

"Daddy! Look look!" our daughter squeals in excitement when she see him. "Wow baby that's so cool!" he says giving her a bright smile, trying not to brush her off while also tending to me. "Daddy can you come and watch me ride it?" she asks hoping to keep him here.

"It's okay honey I'm here, I'll watch you. He's gotta go take care of Mommy, he'll come watch you later" My father in law says. "Oh okay. Mommy are you okay?" she asks with her doe eyes, showing concern and confusion. "Yes baby don't worry I'll be fine. Go play with Grandpa okay? We'll be back later" I say and give him one last glare, daring him to 'slip up' in front of her.

"Okay Mommy, feel better" she says before turning back in her seat, waiting patiently for the okay to start peddling down the driveway. "Yeah, take care of yourself and our little baby boy on the way" he says giving us a genuine smile for my husbands sake, making me falter again, hating that again he's reminded me who my children belong to.

"Come on Darling we're already half way there, let me take care of you" my husband says and I gag, my body jolting forward with the sheer force of it, gaining the strongest flashbacks of the time his father had told me that. The night I broke our vows...

The End.

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