#also how the veteran pulled him down ���

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

Ze has a special moment with one of the veterans ❤️ (2, no commentator voice)

Veteran: “You’re the savior of the people, you bring tears to my eyes.”

Ze: “No no, you saved Europe.”

Veteran: “My hero.”

Ze: “No, you are our hero.”

Veteran: “I pray for you.”

[ylangelegy]

is it casual now? (teaser) 🫀 seungcheol x reader.

★ seungcheol x makeup artist!f!reader. ★ teaser word count: ~8,000 ★ genre/warnings: mdni. 18+ content. situationship/friends with benefits, light angst, use of pet name ('love'). soft dom!seungcheol, making out, biting/marking, protected sex. let me know if i missed anything! ★ footnotes: this has been on my backburner for months. it's admittedly a full-blown story in need of hard editing, and so i'm posting this in hopes of bullying myself into working on the whole thing. should it come down to it, though, i like to think this can stand on its own. enjoy. <3

Seungcheol has been in the industry long enough to know that everybody had vices.

Trainees, rookies, veterans. It didn't matter. There were dangerous, risky vices. Alcohol, drugs, smoking. There was dating, too, of course. Dating fans, dating fellow idols.

Seungcheol didn't do drugs. He smoked socially, but he would rather not. And he drank, sure, but never to an unhealthy amount. Dating, however—

Did it really count when there was only really ever one person he treated like a vice?

You've been in his life since the group debuted. Nine years, give or take. And then, at one point, he just... tried something with you. And it clicked, fell into place, and now you've been sneaking around for the better half of three years. It's the one place Seungcheol feels like he can breathe, can get away. But it's also the biggest secret he's kept.

You're his makeup artist, after all.

When the two of you started off, you both insisted on nothing serious. To 'keep it casual'.

That worked perfectly for Seungcheol. He likes to think it's still working for him, as he raps at the door of your apartment and waits for you to open up. His wristwatch says that it's midnight, but it doesn't matter. He knocks a little louder, growing a touch impatient.

You open the door, and you're greeted with Seungcheol looking reproachful. "Yah," he chides. "Why haven't you been answering my texts?"

When you rub your eyes with the back of your hands and look over your shoulder to glimpse at your wall clock, Seungcheol almost feels apologetic. Almost. “Cheol,” you say exasperatedly, slowly. “It’s the middle of the night.” 

"So you were sleeping then, hmm?" Seungcheol says. The corner of his lips tilt up, just slightly. He leans against the doorframe, taking a brief amount of time to glance you over. As he does, a small wave of tiredness finally washes over him— just how late had he kept himself up working on new music? "I sent you texts hours ago."

"You didn't even read them." He reaches up, tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He sighs, the sound almost exaggerated. "How cruel of you."

You let out a low hum at Seungcheol’s fingers brushing against your skin. “Mmm, I fell asleep with my phone in my hand,” you admit, the words coming out more like a soft sigh than anything else.

You seem to finally drag yourself out of your sleepy state to give Seungcheol a once-over. He knows it shows all over— the exhaustion in his eyes, his stance. He’s tired, and you can tell. You’ve always been able to tell. 

You step aside a bit and he takes that as his cue. Seungcheol moves past you, a small hum in the back of his throat. He toes off his shoes and shuts the door behind him with a soft click. In spite of himself, the moment he's inside, he reaches for you. 

One arm is loosely slung over your shoulders, pulling you in close. He rests his chin on your shoulder, the tip of his nose against your neck.

"You fell asleep..." he gripes. "Do you know how many texts I sent you? I sent five.” 

“Five”” you repeat as you bear Seungcheol’s weight. Your hand instinctively raises to stroke the base of his hair behind his neck, and he thinks he could melt then and there— your soothing touch, your light tone. “Oh, how ever will you live?”

Seungcheol huffs into the crook of your neck. The feel of your fingers in his hair does wonders to combat the tired, stressed part of himself. Slowly, his shoulders relax, and he sighs, the sound long and deep.

"Don't get snarky with me," he mutters. But there's no bite to it at all, just a quiet sense of contentment in his voice. "You could've at the very least read the messages." He moves, presses a kiss to your neck. "Would've taken ten seconds."

“I was asleep,” you protest, but— whether or not you notice— your head is tilting around a bit to press a lingering kiss on to the side of his face.Seungcheol's stomach flutters. You're sweet like that. Always have been, always will be. He hums under his breath at the kiss, his hand that's on your shoulder moves up to cup your cheek.

“That’s my penance,” you say drowsily. 

"One kiss isn't nearly enough," he tells you. 

He pulls back from your shoulder to look at you, now. The eye contact, the way he regards you, has a more focused weight. He takes a moment to look you over again— hair mussed, face still flushed faintly from sleep. "Two,” he says in a tone that brokers no argument. 

“Greedy,” you mumble, but both of you know it doesn’t matter. 

Not when your free hand finds purchase at his side and you use your fingers in his hair to pull him down so you don't have to stand on your tiptoes. Not when you press your lips together into a kiss that's soft and sweet, almost sleepy.

All it takes is the sound of your voice for Seungcheol to be pulled in— when you tug at his hair, he follows, his chest against yours. He bends down, his own hands coming up to the sides of your face.

He melts against your mouth, his eyes closing in an instant. But it’s done as quickly as it started. You pull away, your face still inches away from Seungcheol’s, as you smilingly mumble to him, “There. Two kisses.” 

His eyes open again once you pull away, his grip on your face tightening just slightly. "Three," he mutters back, and then he leans back in. 

You hum against his mouth, the sound breaking free from the back of your throat. You’re both so tired from your respective work and it shows in the kiss. No heat, no fire. Your tongue swiping over his lip makes Seungcheol hum, quiet and low in his throat. He's usually so used to being the one who takes control, making the first move, but here with you, in the early hours of the morning— there's something else to it.

He pulls you closer against him, his hands moving down to your hips. Against your mouth, he murmurs, "Four," before his tongue slips in, just to get a taste. Just to linger, just to savor, but not take over.

“Cheol,” you huff, though your reprimand is tempered by the way Seungcheol is intent on keeping the kiss going. “You’re— mmph— being greedy—” 

"Five—" he sighs against your mouth. "Let me be greedy a second more."

One of his hands moves to the back of your head, fingers tangling up in your hair. This is what he likes, this is what he always comes to you for. Something that's simple. This, he can deal with. This, he can handle.

It’s never a second more with Seungcheol. He’s always out the door when he can go, when he has to. He’s never been a glutton for time, and so it’s enough for you to sense that something is wrong. 

You break away from him. 

Seungcheol has to resist a whine when you pull back, his eyes fluttering open in a daze. Your hand has moved to his face and you’re looking up at him with a small frown and a quiet query. “Long week?” 

He lets your question hang in the air for a moment, the hand in your hair loosening its grip, fingers just idly combing through the strands.

He glances at your face— the furrow of your brow, the hint of concern in your eyes— and it makes him sigh. He turns his head to press a soft, quick kiss to your palm.

"Long year," he corrects.

You look like you want to say more. Seungcheol almost begs you not to. This— whatever the two of you have— it’s an outlet that won’t break him, won't ruin him, won't tarnish him or the group's name. He just wants— he needs—

You know exactly what he needs, even if he doesn’t always know himself. “How do you want your fifth kiss?” you ask instead of commenting on his obvious fatigue. 

Your question makes Seungcheol's head empty out in an instant.

It takes him a moment to think, to consider. His mind, hazy and tired as it is, struggles to come up with an adequate answer. All he knows is that he's comfortable, that he's tired, that you're here. And that's all he really needs, in the end.

He lets his hand fall from your hair, to the nape of your neck. "... Soft," he murmurs. "Soft and easy."

You’re back up on your tiptoes to give him what he asked for. A sweet, slow press of your lips against his. It’s a kiss that lovers give each other, even though you’re the furthest from that. 

It's easy, easy, easy for him to fall into the kiss just like that, a shudder running down his spine when your tongue doesn't invade him. It's sweet, it's chaste, it's simple. It's exactly the kind of kiss he needs after a week of work.

His hand on your neck moves to your cheek, his thumb brushing over the skin there. He breaks away for a mere second, a fraction of a beat, to catch his own breath, but he kisses you right back after. 

"Six," he whispers desperately. "Again."

This time, you laugh against his mouth— a slightly muffled sound, not any less amused— but you give in, still. When you separate for air again, one of your hands rests on his chest to keep him away. “You have to let me breathe, Cheol,” you huff. 

Seungcheol has to resist groaning outright when your palm on his chest keeps him from coming in for another kiss. You're adorable like this, in the middle of the night, with sleep in your eyes and annoyance in your voice.

He knows he's being needy, taking advantage, but at the same time? It's all he seems to be able to do. Greedy, he hears you call him, and it's true.

"I'll let you breathe when I get my seventh kiss, then," he grumbles.

He can see the annoyance blooming on your expression, but he’s saved by one thing and one thing alone: The fact that you can get pretty greedy sometimes, too, especially when Seungcheol was involved. 

"Fine," you say haughtily, feigning annoyance. "Just one more kiss."

Seungcheol's eyes glimmer with something akin to mischief. His hands move to your face again, his own lips curving up in a smirk. You give him an inch, he wants a mile. It's his style. "One more kiss. That I can work with."

He brushes a thumb over your cheek again, his grip in your hair loosening only to brush some stray strands away from your face. "Only fair that I get to pick the way, then," he says, his tone low.

He's going to make the most of this opportunity, and you're letting him.

His tongue darts out briefly to lick over his bottom lip. "Open your mouth."

When you let out a noncommittal hom and oblige, parting your lips, he knows he’s gone. Seeing the obedience in your face makes Seungcheol's stomach do a little bit of an excited flip. You're like this, this, even when you're tired, when you're barely awake.

It's a little addicting.

"Good," he says softly. It's all the warning you get before he's got his mouth on yours again.

He kisses you— devours you, his tongue parting your lips, sliding into your mouth, taking. The kiss is almost bruising and seems to throw you off balance, but you quickly recover by pressing flush against Seungcheol and holding the sides of his arms. If he were a better person, Seungcheol would let this be the last one. Would let this kiss end and call it a night. 

But then the smallest of sounds escape you. A whimper, a soft noise that only makes all sense fly right out of Seungcheol's head. It's not fair, he thinks, that you still have a hold on him even in the middle of the night.

All it makes him do is pull you closer— press you up against the wall with his entire body, his hands still gripping your face as he kisses you deep. Harder than he usually would, rougher than he normally did.

He swallows the sound, his tongue still in your mouth.

Your fingernails are pressing into his biceps now. Your tongue is sinking into his lower lip; not quite biting, but enough to drag his focus away for a moment. "Seung," you sigh, and it’s like music to his goddamn ears. 

He was Choi or Seungcheol when he was in your makeup chair. Cheol, when it was just the two of you. But Seung was something different entirely. 

A small moan, low and quiet, gets caught in Seungcheol's throat when you bite into his lip, when you whine out his name like that. He knows what it means when you call him like that— knows what he's in for.

He relishes in it. In moments like these when he gets to be like this. When he doesn't have to be responsible, when he doesn't have to be a leader. He gets to be just Seung.

There isn't a single part of his body that's not on fire right now, not when he's got you pinned against the wall, not when you're all satin and soft against him. His grip on your face tightens, and now his lips are no longer on your mouth, but on your jaw, moving down to your neck, your throat.

A quiet, needy little ah falls out your lips when he nips at that spot on your pulse point, and there, there is exactly when he knows that he's got you exactly where he wants you. Pinned by his body, shaking and shivering like he's touching you for the first time.

If he was feeling a little less riled up, a little less needy, he'd keep up the teasing. But he can't, not now. His hands move from your face to your hips, moving under the satin of your pajamas. It's not enough, never enough.

Every sound that leaves your mouth, every little please, just, already sets a fire in his brain. Every part of his mind turns to static, white noise, as he keeps his lips on your throat, your neck, biting and nipping at your skin.

“Seung,” you hiss, your hands flying to his shoulders as you press your back on to the entryway wall, willing yourself not to crumple. “I’m going to get a noise complaint again—”

“I'll pay the fine,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips against your collarbone now, his hands still on your hips. His brain is starting to grow fuzzy, his thoughts less coherent, but this was the goal.

To get you like this. Soft and shaking and desperate. To make you his for the night, for just a little while. To hold some sort of control over something in his life.

“You can't just keep paying for— ah— the fines,” you’re babbling. “They're going— t-to kick me— Seung, fuck!"

Whatever you’re trying to say dies out when Seungcheol nips at your warm skin. The rational part of him, somewhere deep, deep inside, knows that you're right. He can't keep paying your fines for complaints of loud music and loud sex.

The part of him that's currently working on painting a bruise on your collarbone doesn't seem to care all that much.

"I'll pay," he repeats, between leaving a few more marks on your skin for good measure. "As many times as I have to—"

“Jesus Christ,” you cuss, your chest heaving as Seungcheol’s hand moves higher and higher up your shirt. “My neighbors are so fucking sick of me, and it’s all your fault.”

“My fault?” Even through the haze in his head, Seungcheol can't help the low scoff that he lets out. He wants to say that he couldn't care less about your neighbors— wants to say that your pretty mouth makes up for the noise, but something else catches his attention. The brush of his fingers on bare skin. 

His eyes go wide, his brain suddenly clearing.

"You're not wearing anything underneath your pajamas," he deadpans, his voice coming out in a low drawl.

Of course, that adds up. You hadn’t been expecting Seungcheol, after all, so he can’t blame you for foregoing the underclothes. Still, it only stokes the growing flame in the base of his stomach. Especially when you move your head back against the wall so you’re looking right up at Seungcheol, the ghost of a smirk on your face. 

“Wanna check for yourself?” you taunt. 

A low groan falls out of Seungcheol's mouth as soon as you ask that. Like clockwork, his hands go to the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric up slightly. Just a little bit, just to see if you're really not wearing anything beneath.

"You always like to tease," he says, his voice low. That hint of a smirk on your face is only serving to drive him that much crazier. "Go on, then. Show me, since you want to act all cocky."

You give him half an eye roll that’s more affectionate than anything else before reaching over to the back of your pajama collar. You pull the top over your head in one deft, swift movement. Seungcheol's eyes go wide for just a moment, taking in the sight of you, undressed, in front of him. It never stops shocking him, never stops making his heart thump a little harder, his breath coming out a little more labored.

“Happy?” you half-joke, your voice low. 

He looks at you, up and down, before his eyes go back to your face. His hands move from your hips to your waist, fingers tracing over the sides of your chest as he shakes his head.

"Not yet," he says. "But I will be."

His hands keep tracing over your skin, his touch light— almost feathery, as he keeps his eyes fixed on your face. There's something about seeing you so exposed like this that's driving him absolutely insane, something about you being entirely at his mercy that's making his eyes grow dark.

He leans in, bringing his lips just past your ear. "Turn around," he murmurs, almost like a command.

He sees how you swallow hard, how you take in the familiar darkness in Seungcheol’s gaze. You know him, have known him for years, and that comes with trust. Unflinchingly, you twist around in his arms to press your chest against the wall. 

He has you practically trapped, all against his chest and the wall. His eyes look at you up and down, taking in your bare shoulders and back, the way you've submitted to him so perfectly.

His hands go to your hips again, and his eyes look over your back, following the line of your bare spine. "What do you say we find a use for this wall besides me just pushing you up against it," he murmurs. "Hm?"

“Yes, please,” you whimper, and as soon as you agree, Seungcheol's hands tighten on your hips, his grip almost bruising as he pulls you a little closer to him. You're not going anywhere, not when he's got you like this.

He leans in, his body practically pressing up against your back, his chest against your skin. He bites down on your shoulder, pulling a strangled whine out from somewhere deep in your throat. "You look so goddamn pretty like this, love," he murmurs against your skin.

His hands move from your hips to your chest, tracing the skin there before he brings them up to your throat. He presses his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the thump thump thump of your heartbeat.

He can feel your heart thrumming against his hand, can practically hear you shaking. It's driving him absolutely insane— you, underneath him, trembling for him. The knowledge that he's got you like this, the fact that you're letting him take control, letting him do whatever he wants.

He moves his mouth to that spot on your neck again, the skin that's so sensitive that it makes you whimper and shiver. He always finds it so easy to tease those sounds out of you, and always relishes in doing it.

His hands stay at your neck, his fingers still pressed against your pulse point. This had always been one of Seungcheol's little habits— a single finger on your pulse point, as if he liked seeing which actions would make your heart rate spike, which words would have it hammering.

Seungcheol presses his lips on your skin again. "You're so loud."

He marvels at the way you ball your hands into fists, the way you shake all over with poorly concealed want and need as he keeps nipping and marking. "‘M not," you gasp, lurching forward against the wall. "‘M perfectly— hng!"

Everything is working in his favor.

You're shaking, and your heart is racing, and every noise you make is just more fodder for him. God, he loves it. Loves being the one to make you absolutely tremble and shiver like this. Loves the fact that he's the only one to make you feel like this.

"You're mine," he says again, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He bites the shell of it, hard, before letting out a low hum.

This is his favorite place in the entire world— right against your back, feeling your body heat against his chest, his tongue running over your skin. He loves how reactive you are to him, how sensitive you are, how your body just melts under his touch.

"Say it," he mutters against your skin. "Who's in control?"

There it is. The million won question.

The whole reason you started these rendezvouses in the first place. He had been spinning out of control, and you had been lonely, and you clicked into place like magnets. 

You give in, like you always do. The words are a soft whimper, almost a shout in your otherwise empty apartment. "You. You're in control, Seung."

That's all he wants to hear.

He digs his fingers into your jaw and wrenches your head so it's turned to look at him, his lips inches from yours. Even if there's a little pain, nothing in him is stopping. "Good," he mutters, his breath hot against your lips. "Good girl."

The kiss that follows is absolutely messy, the kind of kiss where it's just tongue and teeth and raw need. It's worlds different from the soft and easy kisses that Seungcheol asked for earlier, when he first came in complaining about five unanswered texts.

"Seung," you groan as you pull away for air. "Please—" 

When you moan his name, it's like something snaps.

He growls low, his fingers slipping into the waistband of your shorts, gripping the fabric hard enough that there's a very real chance of them ripping. "Please what?" he mumbles against your neck. "You need to tell me what you need, love. Use your words."

"I hate you," you whine, and Seungcheol nearly smiles. He knows you’re not fond of begging, but he needs to hear it from you. At least, he wants to. 

"You know what I—" you’re saying, but dammit, his control is already razor thin as is. He rips off the last fabric of clothing on you until you’re completely bare, pressed entirely up between the wall and him. 

Somehow, your mind still has some shrivel of coherence to complain, "I liked this set, asshole!"

He grins against your skin at your words, chuckling at your whine, at the way you're just reacting to him. You can act annoyed, you can act like you don't need him, but he knows. "I'll buy you a new one," he hums, finally letting go of your shorts and letting them fall to the floor in tatters. "One for me to rip to shreds all over again."

That thought alone makes his blood sing.

It takes you a great effort to turn around, but somehow you manage. Seungcheol is still fully clothed and so your bare chest presses against the front of his shirt. The sight of you, naked, his hands at your hips, pressed right up against him, against his chest like this— he's gone.

And then you’re asking him, low and sweet as he has you caged in, "Where are you going to fuck me tonight, Seung?"

He can't even manage a word for a moment, his hands holding you so tight that he's definitely going to leave marks on your skin, his eyes fixed on your face.

He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry at the question. "You want me to say it out loud, hm?"

You go to steal the upper hand for a minute or so, and you do it so effectively. Your hand rises almost lazily to his neck, your finger instinctively finding his pulse point. He feels his heart rate speed up as he watches, just watches, you do it. You stand on your tiptoes to raise your lips directly to his ear. 

All he can feel is the thunder of his heart racing against your hand. You seem to notice it, too, if the smile on your face is any indication. 

"How about you just show me instead?" you say, and he’s convinced he’ll pass out then and there. 

"You're a brat," he mutters through gritted teeth, his hand moving up from your hips and up your spine. "A brat who needs to be taught a lesson."

He takes a shuddering breath, almost completely lost in your little game, before he snaps back to himself. Seungcheol's hand leaves your hip and goes to your hand, gripping your wrist hard. "On the sofa," he says, and it’s nothing short of a command. 

He practically drags you on to the piece of furniture, watching intently as you fall back with a small oomph. Seungcheol stands on the edge of the couch as you prop yourself up by the elbows to watch him right back. 

The sight of you underneath him— your hair splayed against the cushions, your eyes half-lidded and fixed on him? It's absolutely perfect. It's the kind of thing that he wants to keep in his mind forever, the sight he wants to always be able to remember.

He lets out a noise under his breath as he undoes the button of his jeans, the sound of the zipper going down obscenely loud in the quiet room. "Gorgeous,” he breathes. 

He gets his jeans undone and kicked off, his shirt following them not long after, and then he's on top of you, caging you in, his hands either side of your head, staring down at you.

The look in his eyes isn't something he really gets to show often— that raw need, that want, how desperate he is for you. He wants you, God, he wants you so badly, and you're letting him have you.

He dips his head to your neck, his lips against your skin, his breath hot against your pulse point, still absolutely obsessed with that spot. His hands find your wrists, pinning them back against the couch, while his knee finds its way between your thighs, pressing up against you.

You arch and squirm underneath him, visibly distressed with the facsimile of friction that you’re getting from his knee. “Seung,” you pant, grinding your dripping core against his knee. It sends a jolt of electricity through him. “Please— don’t wanna wait any more—”

“Where’s all that snark now, hm?” he teases, his teeth running over the skin on your neck. But he’s not any better off, his own self-control slipping through his very fingers as his hips grind down against you desperately. 

"Been driving me insane, love," he whispers, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your neck. "Been dreaming about this for days. Missing you—” 

A low keen escapes you, and he can only echo it as you tug at the last piece of material separating you. “Can we get this off already, please?” you huff as you hook your fingers at the waistband of his boxer shorts. 

He groans against your skin, his teeth finally letting go when he lifts his head to look down at you, the expression on his face looking like he's fighting for control. "God, yes," he groans, lifting his hips just enough for you to tug them off him.

He kicks them off once you’ve yanked them down, and his hand— which has instinctively gravitated to your pulse point— feels how the beat absolutely skyrockets. One of your arms goes around his shoulder and the other, surprisingly, clutches his jaw.

You’re looking right at him as you say, "Fast and hard, Seung."

"Yeah?" he says, just the slightest hint of a surprise in his voice. "You want me to be rough with you, love?"

Seungcheol was usually a sweet lover. He liked taking his time, liked being gentle and responsible even in bed.

But there were particularly rough weeks, terrible days, where he just needed a means to an end. Where the sex was an outlet, where the best thing you could be for him was his. 

He waits for your permission, because he still always remembers to ask no matter how far deep you’re in. The agreement comes in the form of the best three words. 

"Ruin me, Seung."

You know him too well. You know how he works, you know how he thinks, and you know him better than anyone.

He groans in response to your words, his head dipping down to drag his teeth gently over your collarbone. He's trying to hang on to his control, he is, but it's a losing effort.

"I will, love." His breath is hot against your skin, his hands finding your hips. "Just give me a minute—"

He shifts, just for a moment, to find the condom in his jean pocket. He goes through the motions until he's back on top of you again, one hand coming up to grip your hip again, the other coming up to rest against your throat. He looks down at you, his eyes almost glowing. 

"You trust me?" he mutters. His hand at your hip tightens; his hand at your throat barely clenches around your pulse point, his eyes never leaving yours.

You can feel it, see it. The way the little threads are beginning to unravel and fray. The way this was no longer Seungcheol of SEVENTEEN; not the leader, not the idol. This was something different entirely, someone else completely.

"I do," you whisper back, your eyes so full of adoration for him that he has to bite back the urge to scream. "I trust you, Seungcheol."

His full name is what really does it for him, because then he's pushing in, and you’re gasping, whimpering, trying to adjust around him and the fact that you’re practically clenching him on the get-go. Seungcheol eases in, nice and slow, because you’re too tightly coiled for him to do more than carefully bottom out. You’re both heaving, your breaths coming out as gasps; your own breaths are sharp, harsh, because Seungcheol is still choking you a little. 

His head dips down to your shoulder because he needs something to hold on to, anything, while his mind spins. His head is dizzy feeling you like this, feeling you around him so tightly. He's trembling, his thighs shaking, but he's holding himself back as long as he can.

When Seungcheol gets as far in as he can possibly get, you let out twin groans. He’s completely sheathed inside of you and you’re fluttering around him in a way that’s dangerous. 

“Y’can move, Seung,” you reassure him after a moment, the words coming out strained with desire. “As fast and hard as you want.” 

You sound strangled, just like he feels, and it's taking him a mammoth amount of control to hold himself back. He groans against your shoulder at the sound of your voice, the words you say. He wants to move, to thrust, but he's trying to have some semblance of composure. 

"Love," he says, his voice wrecked. "I—"

His voice breaks. It breaks, because there is only so much he can take, and he's beyond that point now. There's a tremor in his thighs, his hands clenching in the cushion below you.

You drag him right back down, with the sound that you let out that’s halfway a whine and a sigh. One of your hands goes to rest in the space between Seungcheol’s shoulder blades, as if to steady the two of you. 

Your voice is surprisingly firm when you speak. "Let go," you command. And then, softer, "I need you."

Your words, your voice— it's in complete conflict with the situation you're currently in. And yet, it works. He lets out a sound, one that's somewhere between a growl and a whimper, his breath hot against your skin. And then he's moving and he's holding nothing back.

He's hard, brutal, and he's taking. His teeth on your shoulder; his breath against your neck; his nails digging into you.

It's a relentless, dizzying pace. Seungcheol bullies into your weeping cunt, fast and hard, and it draws out the most obscene sounds from you. Gasps, whines, an occasional scream when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. What has him seeing stars is the fact that you can't seem to settle on a name to moan. "Seung— Seungcheol— Cheol—"

Yes, you're saying, yes.

Seungcheol loses himself, utterly and completely, in you. You're on the edge, he can hear it; he can feel it, and God, he wants to hear you say his name. Every single one of them. 

It almost sounds like a mantra, your voice, as he takes and takes and takes, his breathing harsh, ragged.

You go through all of the names you have for him, breathless and wrecked, until you can't even say anything because his hips are snapping into you with a ferocity that's rare but not unwelcome. Your pornographic moans reverberate in your otherwise empty apartment, and Seungcheol thinks he might go insane. 

"'M close," you choke out. "Cheollie, baby, I'm— ah, fuck— Seung—"

His breath catches at your words, his eyes closing for a moment as he groans. You, you, in all your perfect, glorious, undone state. It’s a sight he wishes he could capture, freeze in time.

He lets out a whimper, his words almost slurred when he responds. "Love— I—"

He's never been this rough, never this intense. You're the only one, the only person he's ever let himself go like this with. The only person who he's ever let see everything, take everything.

He's on the edge, he's there, he's—

"C'mon," he whines, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand clenching hard around your hip. "With me, love, please."

It's a miracle that you can even nod, can even find your voice as Seungcheol keeps on going with his erratic, stuttering thrusts. "With you," you gasp. 

He snaps into you, then, and you arch up with a scream of his name. There’s the familiar white-hot flash of pleasure; the impossibly tight clench of your walls around him.

He stays buried in you for several long moments, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his heart pounding so hard he can feel it in his ears. He has never felt so utterly spent in his entire life, never been so completely, utterly drained of energy. He's weak against you. He’s weak because of you. 

"God," he finally manages to mutter.

He lifts his head, just enough to be able to look at you, but he can't even muster a grin. He's spent and he knows you know that.

His hand comes up slightly, to brush the hair off of your forehead. "I think..." he says, his voice thick and hoarse, "I think I ruined you, love."

You let out a breathless laugh, one that you have to push out of your heaving chest. "You—" you try to say, but the words don't form, not at first. You take a few moments to take in some air, to gulp past the lump in your throat. "You're a fool."

His lips twitch into a tired but genuine smile at the sound of your laugh. It’s a soft sound that he's always thought sounds beautiful, especially coming from you.

A hoarse, broken laugh of his own escapes; his hand coming up to rest at your jawline, his thumb gently tracing over the warm skin there. He's still catching his breath, but he's slowly gathering himself.

"Am I a fool?" he asks quietly, leaning his forehead against yours. "What does that make you, then?"

You’re a fool, too, he thinks to himself. For letting me have this. 

Instead of answering him, you press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. It’s the only answer he’s going to get from you for now, it seems. 

He lets out a soft huff, moving his head back just slightly, his eyes closing. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he says quietly, his voice still rough with fatigue.

"Every time," you respond. Your own voice is strained, almost tired, but there's a hint of amused exasperation. "You say that every time, Cheol."

His eyes opened once again to look at you.

"Because it's true," he says simply, his voice soft and sincere, the hand resting at your jaw moving to brush your hair back from your face. "It's always true, love."

He lets out a soft sigh, his eyes tracing over your face, taking in every inch of you. His eyes pause at your lips for a moment, his tongue gently wetting his own, his gaze finally moving back up to meet your eyes.

You thread your shaking fingers through the back of his hair and answer his unspoken question. "Kiss me soft and easy, Cheol," you whisper.

The moment the words leave your mouth, he's in action.

He leans forward without a second thought, the hand not buried in your hair going to rest on your hip, his lips meeting yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

There's no heat in it, no want or need. Just a soft press of his lips against yours, gentle and slow. 

It's languid and unhurried. Like there's nowhere either of you have to be after this. For a moment, you can pretend that this is normal— that Seungcheol will not have to leave, and that you’ll not have to change into new pajamas because he'd broken yours, and that you can be... well, something, anything aside from what you are now.

But it's wishful thinking, you both know, so all Seungcheol can do is kiss you. He lets out a soft sound, almost a sigh, as his tongue slides into your mouth, his hand on your hip tightening slightly. His other hand is in your hair still, his fingers gently tracing over your scalp, his body almost melting against yours.

He will have to leave. He always does. But for now, he's here, with you, and you feel perfect, and—

Five minutes, he bargains. Five more minutes.

And then things end, not really by your own accord.

The sharp, shrill sound of Seungcheol's phone ringing breaks through your haze. You pull away, a bit jolted at the foreign sound— at something other than your words, your breathing, reverberating in the room. It takes you a beat too long to realize someone is calling him— his phone in his discarded jeans— in the godawful middle of the night. 

He lets out a loud groan, the sound tired and drawn out, and he can't help but rest his forehead against your shoulder once again, letting out a resigned sigh.

"God, save me," he mutters, his voice rough. "What time is it?"

You chuckle lightly. "Go on," you urge softly, not because you want to but because you have to. "Answer."

Seungcheol lets out another loud, drawn out sigh, his shoulders slumping in obvious defeat. He reluctantly lifts his head from your shoulder with a grumble, but he can't quite stop himself from pressing a kiss to your cheek just before he shifts up and off of the couch.

Once he’s reached down to grab his phone from where it's stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, he answers without looking at the caller ID. "Yeah?"

"Hyung!"

It's Soonyoung— of course it's Soonyoung— calling.

"Are you still at the company?" the younger member asks. "I think I forgot my headset in one of the practice rooms, and Minghao said you didn't go home with them."

"It's midnight, Soonyoung." 

You shit over on the couch, careful not to make any sound. Not to give Soonyoung any suspicion that Seungcheol might be somewhere where he shouldn't be. You press a small, reassuring kiss to Seungcheol's hip as Soonyoung goes on to whine, "Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's the expensive headset, hyung. If you're still there, could you check? Please?"

Seungcheol lets out a huff— a mixture of resigned affection and irritation— at the feeling of your lips against his skin. He can feel the exhaustion deep within his bones now, and all he wants to do is go back to snuggling into you for the night.

But he can't say no to Soonyoung, especially not at this time of night.

"Fine," he grumbles, letting out a huff. "Which practice room?"

You can hear the moment Soonyoung practically brightens with triumph.

"Third floor!" he says happily, and you bury your face into Seungcheol's side to keep yourself from laughing. "You're the best, hyung! I'll buy you a meal tomorrow for the trouble!"

He reaches down with the hand not holding his phone, pressing his palm to the top of your head, pushing lightly down. A warning of don't laugh. "Just be thankful I'm your hyung, kid," Seungcheol grouses.

Soonyoung ends the call soon enough, saying some things about sending Seungcheol a photo of his headset so he knows exactly which one is missing. When it's back to just the two of you again, you tilt your head up to look at Seungcheol. 

"You're really going back for it tonight?" you ask, even though you already know the answer. 

The corner of his lip twitches into a half smile at the way you look up at him. His eyes takein the sight of you— his hand on the back of your head, his fingers gently twisting strands of your hair.

"Of course I am," he sighs. "I can't say no to him, love."

You shift upward so you can sit side by side with Seungcheol. Both of you have yet to put on any clothes, but you’ve at least gathered your bearings enough to form coherent words now.

"You can't say 'no' to any of them," you tease as you press a gentle kiss to his cheek. There's an almost blinding affection in your tone as you say, "You and your goddamn boys."

Seungcheol reaches out, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you closer to him. Briefly, he presses his lips against your hair. His eyes are almost tender as he speaks.

"They're my boys," he says, his voice soft.

You let the words hang there for just a moment. It’s an admission, one that both of you have known for the longest time, but it's also a reminder. It’s the reason why you and Seungcheol can never be more than this—because he has his boys, and he would never do anything to jeopardize them.

You press your face against the column of his neck for just one more precious moment. You’ve never been selfish about Seungcheol, but there were nights when you thought about it. Just… thought about it.

The thought never wins.

"Let’s clean up, get dressed," you whisper into his skin. "So you can head to the company sooner."

He lets out a soft, almost painful exhale. He knows what you're thinking, what you're feeling; he's thought about it himself, as well. He hates having to leave you, hates having to say that he has to leave you. But his boys are his boys, and one day all this will be over, and then...

He can't think about it right now, though.

Instead, he nods, pressing a light kiss to your temple. "Yeah."

It takes about ten minutes or so for you both to gather everything together. Seungcheol still looks tired, though for different reasons now. He’s essentially traded one exhaustion for another.

As he puts on the shoes he left in your entryway, you lean against your doorway with your arms crossed over your chest. "I’ll be holding you accountable for my pajama set," you warn him. "And for tomorrow’s noise complaint."

"Yeah, yeah," he huffs, taking a step toward you. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten."

His face softens as he reaches you, his hands coming up to grab your elbows, gently pulling you closer to him. "Sorry," he says. "Again."

 "You’re not sorry, " you sigh pointedly, more out of spite than anything. It’s the truth—he’s not really that apologetic about losing control every now and then, about your neighbors knowing you’re being pulled close every so often.

When you bury your face into his chest, he lets out a low, gruff chuckle, his chin resting gently against the top of your head. His arms wrap around you, holding you tightly against him, just like every single time before.

"You’re right," he murmurs. A quiet, affectionate admission. “Not sorry. Not even a little.”

He holds you there against him, his eyes fluttering shut as he allows himself just a few more moments before he has to leave. You both stay there, allowing yourselves that moment, until the tension in Seungcheol’s shoulders fades and your annoyance at your torn pajamas ebbs. It could’ve been five minutes, maybe less, but then Seungcheol’s phone pings with a text—surely Soonyoung asking if he’s found his headset.

You’re the one who takes the step back, putting some distance between you. "Drive safe," you tell Seungcheol. "Text me when you’re there."

Resigned. That’s the only way to describe the smile that tugs at his lips. "Yeah," he says. "I will."

True to his word, Seungcheol does indeed send you a text about an hour or so after he'd arrived at the company, informing you that he was there and had found Soonyoung’s headset.

He's still exhausted, and all he wants is to be back. Back inside of you, back with you. But he can't do any of that. At least, not right now. Not at this point.

I miss you already, is the only other thing he adds to his text.

Your text comes in only moments later, like you had been waiting by your phone. 

you're a fool. head home. take care.

A soft sigh escapes him the moment he reads your text, his eyes flickering over the words you'd typed, the harshness of it. It's another layer of protection for the both of you, but it's still not easy to read.

He's about to respond with something snarky, some light-hearted joke to tease you a bit, but he stops himself at the last moment. He knows that you're right.

He needs to head home. He needs to take care.

And he’s an absolute goddamn fool, in more ways than one. 

[huicitawrites]

The Hunt

Yandere! Miguel O' Hara x Fem! Spider! Reader

T/W: yandere (slow-burn(?)), dark fic, violence, assault, spoilers for across the spiderverse.

Status: rewritten.

Next Chapter

Word Count: 2,4k

"Y/N! Get. Back. Here. NOW", swinging away from an infuriated Miguel O'Hara wasn't something you had planned or ever thought would occur, never entertained the thought of it. At least not until now, as you desperately attempted to get away from him and somehow escape him- for your dimension-travel watch (as wild as the concept of it sounded) had been snatched by the same man that was madly hunting you down.

How did it even all come to this? Let's rewind, back to the beginning.

Part I

After being bitten by a radioactive spider in a school trip to Alchemax at the young age of 15, you obtained enhanced spider-like abilities: a sixth sense for perceiving danger, incredible reflexes, amazing parkour skills, extraordinary strentgh and flexibility.

And for the past ten years, you have been New York's one and only Spider-Woman.

Learning to use your powers was a whole trip on itself. They awakened rather clumsily -nothing a leap of faith could not fix- as you began to grasp the ropes of being a masked hero in your teenage years [it's safe to say that your teenage years were truly a heck of a rollercoaster].

Handling a double-life was not easy, that is something you have learned with your ten years experience. You saved a bunch of people and thus many lives, you won many times and saved the city countless more. Yet you also earned a bunch of dangerous criminals and villains tailing behind your back that would want to kill you without hesitation and harm you in any way possible.

In spite of the times you were beaten down, left made a mess in the ground, or at the brink of death- you would always get back up because you were Spider-Woman.

Sometimes, getting back up was hard.

The weight of the sake of the city was on your shoulders. And sometimes, that weight crushed you. When you lost your parents it was devastating, because not only had you failed as a hero, but as a daughter.

[Your dad perished in an attempt to save you from an attack of one of many enemies- the Green Goblin . You two happened to be on a ‘father and daughter’ outing in a nice dinner when the Green Goblin tried to draw out Spider-Woman from her hiding place in Brooklyn (unbeknownst of your true identity and much to your own misery and guilt.) After battling the Green Goblin and imprisoning him, you rose with your dead father in your arms, and an huge crack in your heart that would leave a deep scar.

Months later, your mother's followed suit. That day was chaotic, panic filled the streets of New York as The Rhino, a veteran soldier with super human strentgh and a high-techno advanced armor resembling a rhinoceros, laid waste to the city. You were evacuating all civilians nearby, swinging across and into buildings, picking up and scooping anyone you could encounter and putting them out of danger.

It happened as you held falling debris with your arms. You picked up wailing in between the many cries of people, and your spider-sense guided your eyes up from the ground.

A child, no older than five, was crying. He was glued to the floor, too overwhelmed by the calamity surrounding him. A wall from a building was falling on him and your heart beat raced. You still had people below you that were crawling out and the child was a or two block away. Your thoughts raced in your head, you had to save everyone, down to the last live.

"Come on, come on, come on" you muttered in between gritted teeth as you gathered power and lifted the debris into the air. With the help of your web shooter, you pulled all the remaining civilians out and casted aside the courtesy of double-checking as you swinged toward the child.

You could see how the wall fell over him, and you reached out your arm with your forearm out desperately, attempted to pull him out with your web but the wall was already about to touch his head and-

She pushed the child out of the danger, motherly instincts impulsing her feet at the cost of her own life. The child was pushed onto you and you brought him flush against you with your web, arms encasing him as you witnessed the wall collapse on her.

In shock and disbelief, you gently lowered the child to the ground and ran to the fallen wall. Once again in despair, you clawed through the debris and searched for your mother’s body.

You found her bruised and crushed, her face deformed. You brushed the dust off it. Her pained groan was faint, and you begged her right there and then not to leave you. Not to leave you alone, again.

“Is the kid al…?”

“Yes! Don’t, don’t talk. Help, help is coming. You have to stay, you have to.” But her eyes were already fading, and her limbs growing weak. Your disguised hand snatched up hers and you cried,

“Mom!”

She recognized your voice, the one she cherished the most. Her fading eyes gathered all the warmth they could muster and she reached out a quivering hand to your cheek. Her fingers slid into your mask, and she felt your tear stained skin.

“Ah my baby…[Y/n]…I’m so proud... Your father would be so proud... keep it up”. Her last words were voiced with strain, but you would always remember them.]

They became the fuel for your mission, and no matter how many times you were beaten to the ground and wounded to no end, you stood back up. You would save everyone else, no more deaths, you swore upon your parents' last moments.

Now in your adult life, you found yourself in a stable life besides the implications your side hustle not-so-side -hustle brought. You had an adequate job as a writer for small titles in a decent newspaper, and you had a department you shared with your childhood best friend, Peter Parker [who eventually became your tech-desk guy. Hiding your true identity from your best friend and roommate would have never lasted long anyway. You remember clearly the day you climbed into the living's window, beat up, bruised and tired, when the lights suddenly turned on and a Peter with crossed arms and an eyebrow raised was waiting for you like a parent whose child was past curfew. You were without your mask on. Nonetheless, after stuttering uncontrollably and failing to explain and just simply breaking down in front of him. Without saying any words, he took out the first aid kit and reassured you with a smile. You were so grateful to him.]

So now here you were, crouching on the top of The Clock Tower, the moonlight casting its light on your back and darkening your silhouette. Earlier in the day you dealt with some thugs and minor crimes, but since the sun fell nothing happened. That was odd, NYC was never quite, least of all times at night.

But your spider-sense was running, not rampant, but definetely there like annoying itch on the nape. Something had to be off, you knew it.

"Um, I'm not picking up anything, (Y/n). Maybe you should be calling it a night, you've been doing good work so far. You did lower the crime rate, after all."

"You sure Pete? There's this feeling in my gut and-"

"Your 'spidey- thingy' ?".

"Spider-sense, spidey-thingy sounds dumb" you answered with a small groan, rolling your eyes although he could not see the.

He chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he turned serious " but I'm not getting anything from anywhere. From police radios and stations to our own hidden cameras"

"Nothing? Sure?"

"I mean everything is awfully quiet now that I think about it... All I can pick up is glitching, let's see... let me do my thing and-" you could hear frantic typing through the comms of your suit within the mask, you could even picture Peter hunching and fixing his eyeglasses.

What he said left you pondering. Glitching? It couldn't be a coincidence that all the radio signals he could pick up were glitching.

"Aha! Here it is, your spidey-thingy was right." this time, you chuckled as if saying 'see?'. He continued, "-this should be a very hidden signal from the special forces team. Seems classified, man they should really put a little more money into whatever software they use to protect their privacy" and he pushed on one final 'enter', the glitching and static got louder almost startling you to which your friend apologized softly, but it evened out.

"Report the situation, Lieutenant Stacy"

"Requesting back-up right now, suspect is armed with advanced equipment, we are at the Port, South East, many of my men and women have been wounded and- oh, shit, shit" The man's words died down with the sound of something big crashing and breaking.

Well, that's your cue. You stood up on your toes and balanced you body weight forward, diving to the ground. With your limbs extended, you stretched your forearm and extended your wrist, web shooting out from the slick web shooter Peter designed.

Swinging from building to building under the night sky, you jumped across billboards and slid past tight spaces as you were heading to the location of the conflict, and the closer you swinged, the wilder your spider sense got.

When you arrived at the port, you saw a SWAT truck that was flipped over, it had a huge dent in the form of a what seemed to be a claw mark, and the windows had been broken. There were a few members on the floor, and you noticed there were two trying to lift the heavy vehicle.

"Let me help," you announced your presence and they whipped their heads. Their faces were glistening with sweat and dirt, and you could notice their equipment was damaged. You crouched and lifted the truck, there was one member there below, and his leg was twisted the other way, but he was breathing- well, panting.

Without further a do, the soldiers went and dragged out their friend. A soldier's face lit up, though they seemed hesitant [after all, your line of work was kind of controversial among the government and its forces] but they were thankful. "Thank you, Spider-Woman", their voice was genuine and you smiled below the mask.

"Your welcome, leave it to me" winking at them through your lense, you nodded and propelled yourself to the ceiling of the warehouse. You noticed a roof canopy at the center, lucky you, and brought the palm of your hand to it. Utilizing your sticky finger pads, you carefully removed a pane of glass and entered the building without making a sound.

"Be careful, please" Peter voiced with worry.

You hanged the web from it's strongest point at the peak, and slowly lowered yourself down until your hand gently brushed the cold floor . You got off the web and crawled in direction of the tingling of the spider-sense. You found some warehouse crates, pressed your back onto them, slowly leaning your head out to take a peak.

A man stood there, a middle aged man by the looks of him. He had a round pair of black sunglasses on and a large leather coat on, but the most outstanding feature was apparently behind him. Four metal tentacle-like arms sprouting from his back, with threatening looking claws. That had to be the thing that put such a dent in a SWAT vehicle, the advanced equipment you heard of in the interception.

He was ranting about something, speaking to himself. "The power of the sun at the palm of my hand, only to be ruined by that fucking-"

‘What is this man even talking about…’

His words died down in your ears as it took a few seconds for your spider-sense to peak, and you scrunched your face features. Your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes squinted, cheeks squeezing up and causing the lenses of the mask to stretch and flatten.

"(Y/n)? Found anything yet?" Peter inquired.

"This man... I think I know him... but also not..." At this point, your spider-sense was rampant. Your gaze still confused as you tried to decipher him. Your spider sense was alerting you of this oddly familiar feeling. It was someone you had dealt with before, but also someone new. Simply off-putting.

Then the realization fell on you, his tentacle-like arms.

"Is that Doc Ock!?" Without getting a hold of your reaction, you accidentally raised your voice and revealed your location. Your spider-sense tingled again, this time, sensing imminent danger as you backflipped and dodged the incoming attack. The crate you were hiding behind of was broken into splinters.

"Come on out, Spider-Man!" he shouted, his voice in pure anger.

Spider-Man? As long as you remember, you never referred to your disguised self as Spider-Man...

"It's Spider-Woman, mind you" You revealed yourself off the shadows, and the light basked in your costume, revealing its signature colors and design. "Do I know you by chance?" you tited your head, inquisitive in your tone as you were trying to figure things out.

The man's expression fell, and his rage was replaced by annoyance.

"Is this some kind of sick joke, Spider-Man? Have you forgotten the name of the man whose work of life you ruined, Otto Octavius." His tongue rolled of his name with spite and you widened your eyes.

"Doc Ock? But, you are different. You are totally human". Last time you checked, Doc Ock was a mad scientist that turned himself half-octopus by bioengineering his genetics in the name of some sort of sick evolution idea. He had tried to turn the city into mutants like himself for 'the sake of humanity's future' and you managed to stop his plans. Furthermore, he had been sent to a high-security prison for villains, where an anti-serum is being developed to turn him back and halt his aggression.

"Are you pulling my leg Spider-Man?" He said with disbelief, and he began to appear more and more angry by the second. He muttered something below his breath, and you swore you saw one of his tentacles turn toward his face as if it were sentient and listening...

"I've told you it's Spider-Woman." You huffed out, chest puffing out. You had a bad feeling about this...

The man's hand ran down his own face and he groaned, visibly tired. "Well, whatever, but you do appear to be an ally of Peter Parker's, your costume and your name leave little room for further speculation". The mention of your friend raised up your guard, how did he know Pete? Any doubts and hesitation erased themselves of your mind, for your friend could be in lethal danger.

"Oh? What's the matter, 'Spider-Woman'," he sneered.

"Picked right on the web, hmm?" He edged on, a dangerous smirk dancing on his face and two claws raising up in the air, ready to pounce.

There was not much to it, as you jumped sideways to dodge whatever that clawed-tentacle-armor was. You found yourself right back at the gig, fighting a villain as the one and only Spider-Woman.

Or so you thought.

A/n: Hi! So when I first saw this fictional man I KNEW I had to write about him, originally, it was going to be a long one shot, but I decided to break it into parts. I expect this story to be up to 3 parts or 4 as most. Anyhow, I hope you come to like it!, and sorry for the long- ass intro, I really wanted to dwelve deeper into reader as a spider person. Next is the real thing. I have seen some people have asked me to tag them, so don’t be shy to ask too!

[yawnderu]

Currently obsessed with dbf!Keegan... like just imagine the scary dog privileges that come with having this man around. He doesn't even wear the balaclava or eyeblack when he's out, but just his creepy ass 🔵🔵 eyes are enough to scare off anyone who even looks your way. Like okay, we see them son. You can blink now.

And don't even get me started on how annoying this man would be. Pulling your hair to annoy you, flipping you off, pushing you out of the way and looking over his shoulder with the most annoying shit-eating grin that makes you want to actually punch him dead in the windpipe. Not to mention he'd totally see you struggling to open a jar and go "allow me" just to tighten it up more.

Absolute nightmare driver. He may take you out everywhere, but no one is an atheist when Keegan is driving and you really want to tell him, but he always keeps his gun on him.💀

BUT despite all the banter, his protective instincts kick in super easily with you. Someone is mean mugging you? He's glaring back. Someone says anything mean to you? He'll deal with it. God help any man who tries to flirt with you or catcalls you. He teaches you how to defend yourself since he won't always be there to protect you, often deployed in missions. I can also see him teaching you how to shoot a gun, just in case you ever need to. He takes you to a random field and teaches you the basics, and once you're confident enough, maybe he even takes you hunting.

I can see the dad being a disabled veteran who served with Keegan(?) simply happy to have some help with you, knowing Keegan can take you places and do things he can't do anymore. Despite you being an adult, I'm a sucker for father-daughter fluff, so the dad has def cried in secret whenever you show him new things you learnt or show him pictures of places Keegan took you to. Of course, he's not excluded, always hosting dinners and BBQs in the house whenever Keegan is back, and trying to join both of you if possible.

Keegan is like an annoying older brother, the type of man who makes you believe murder should be legal, yet you still deeply care for. He doesn't keep any things on him that may be linked to your father or you in fears of him being a ghost putting you in danger, but he has a bunch of polaroids in a safe in his house, which he looks at whenever he's off base and feeling down.

Speaking of pictures, you totally forced him to get into a photo booth with you and he now keeps the fucking ugliest pictures ever, threatening to ask a ghost to hack into your account and post them whenever you're being too annoying.

IF things ever go further between both of you, you can count on this man to slonk your shit silly style like sloppy swag. This man has a lot of pent-up frustration, which he only takes out on you after making sure you're okay with it.

He's a bully. Stops thrusting when you're feeling good just to hear you whine, thrusting painfully slow until you're begging for more.

There's definitely guilt when it comes to being intimate with you, despite you being in your mid-20s, you're the daughter of his best friend. It feels wrong, so he makes up for it by treating you extra good. You got spoiled before, but now? Prepare for the most extra and expensive gifts you never even thought about. He earns good money, and has plenty of savings just in case. He's still annoying, though.

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Fucking in their offices with the veteran trio please ☺️

Wow I'm getting a lot of requests asking for these three actually and I am NOT complaining lol.

Disclaimer: I use they/them pronouns for Hanji and since this request is NSFW in nature also AFAB language/terms will also be used for them. And tldr summary of this entire thing: poor Survey Corps desks, man... the true strongest soldiers ❤️‍🩹

(Gender neutral reader)

(NSFW contents under the cut)

Levi Ackerman

Takes issue with the idea at first, after all this is the place he works - important papers who knows been god-knows-where and shit get signed and handed off at that desk. To fuck on it would be unsanitary you know how many people have touched this thing? Plus it would leave an unnecessary mess, and not to mention the door leading to his connected bedroom is not even like... eleven steps away from it. With a bed. A bed he knows only the two have you have been in and with sheets that are cleaned everyday. Why not just fuck you there instead? It seems obvious. Until, that is, one day you're having a heated argument - one he looks back on as very dumb but he knows how stubborn he can be when not backing down on something, especially when it involves Erwin's equally as stubborn ass who tends to drag him into his messes and therefore creating this argument you had - and he doesn't exactly remember the turning point of when you started kissing each other with such tenacity or when you started ripping each other's clothes off but it's when you're pushed back on his desk, pushing all his neat stacked paperwork onto the floor sprawled back with your legs spread with that demanding "fuck me," glint in yours eyes.

Eh. It just clicked and now he's thinking with his dick.

His kisses are frantic. He bites all over the base of your throat and leaves marks he knows you're going to have trouble hiding the next day but that's honestly the further thing from his mind right now as he has three fingers shoved all the way to the knuckles inside you right now prying your hole practically wide open.

Your legs are anchored on his hips, your pants dangling one of them and the straps of your gear hanging loose off of them keep snapping into his ass to an annoying point where he completely rips them off and tosses them to the complete opposite side of the room.

Yank and pull on his hair. Do it and he'll let put a guttural groan and shove you down further on the desk where your back is completely on it and you have to physically strain to keep your head up from keeping it from hanging over the edge - to 'assist' you from having to do this he puts a hand in your hair in return, holding your head up and make you look as he fucks you with his nearly his entire hand now. It gets your eyes all glossy as you feel so overwhelmed, you feel so good.

"You're pitiful, you know that?" He tells you, picking up the pace as you squeeze around his fingers. "But that's just fine... preferable actually. I love seeing you this way and I'm not even properly fucking you yet."

When he enters you the desk finally creaks. It's a sound that itches his brain turns out, it gets his silver grays all wide that he pauses what he's doing for just a lingering moment - to your dismay as you're now flipped on your stomach on the surface with your ass out, grinding back onto him whimpering for him to move, which he gives a slight buck and there it is again. The creak. He needs to hear it again. Again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And-

It's the combination of both your noises - all the moans, groans, curses, whimpers, and gritted calls of his name on your lips - and the wooden thudding, metalic complaining, the slight crackles that his desk, the one he's had since getting promoted to Captain and earning this office, that reeeeaallly gets his rocks off as he pounds you into it.

He thinks about just about how many boring exchanges he's had at his desk, all the meetings, the Cadet reprimantions, that fucking time that noble had the balls to come to his - at the time - brand new office and lecture him and newly appointed Commander Erwin who was visiting up and down how he still didn't approve of this "Gutter-rat thug," getting such a high position of military rank in barely over a year and had threatened to pull fundings. Now look at him. Captain 'Gutter-rat thug,' currently fucking you over it. Weirdly hot. Next time he has those boring exchanges he'll definitely have something nice to distract himself now.

He drapes himself over you from behind, continuing to mark up your neck and whisper in hushed tones all sort of both dirty things mixed with genuine praises of love and adoration - things only meant for you to hear, afterall he can still wreck you to the point of pleasured tears and still be all sappy, you know? It's not like anyone else is around. He likes doing it with one of your legs picked up from off the ground and holding it up in the crease of his arms - spreading you open wider for him to take and every creak and crackle of the desk underneath you is like a euphoric punctuation to ever single thrust he makes deep inside you that only grows louder, and louder, and louder, and louder, and louder, and louder until it almost sounds like thunder.

When you two finally finish, both out of breath like you just ran a mile as all your love spills between you does Levi pull back to assess the mess that trickles in flooding globs that forms into large puddles onto the rocky wood that rationality sets back in him like a truck.

"M'gonna have to clean and disinfect that... fucking knows how I'm going to get the damn smell out before those snooping fuckin-"

You move without out saying anything, down on your wobbly knees but you still make eye contact as you perform your next sinful action: licking it all up, every single bit left behind on the hardwood.

Levi just blinks. Dumbfounded.

It doesn't matter how big or small you are, Levi has you picked up and tucked under his arm before he can even realize it - he takes those eleven steps to his and yours shared bedroom and tosses you on the bed and kicks the door behind him close. You two aren't done yet.

It's later the next day when Levi gets a knock at his office door, which he barely even has to let out permission to come in as he currently is reorganizing the some of your books on his shelf and cleaning around the general area as the door opens and comes in Erwin, stack of papers in his hand.

"Levi," He greets closing the door behind him and walking further into the office.

The Captain just hums, setting the current book in his hands down and moving to the next to carefully wipe down the cover and shaky off any gathered dust from the pages. Erwin then stands there awkwardly for a moment, rubbing back his pomade slick hair before speaking again.

"I think I should apologize for causing you and (Name) to argue yesterday at the meeting with Zackley, that wasn't my intention. Again, my apologies."

"I know. Tell them that."

"I will, I just thought I'd come here first. I have the documents you requested."

Levi hums again, with his rag he starts to scrubs down a stain mark on the shelf he hasn't noticed before. Meanwhile Erwin slowly trudges over to the Captain's desk, putting a careful eye on the documents in his hands before he shuffles around where he's facing away from desk and goes to sit down before Levi catches it at the last second from the corner of his eye and immediately goes to yell for him not to and then-

CRUNCH.

Erwin's wide eyed as he now sits on the floor, the desk now cracked into two pieces with him in the middle of it. It'd be funny, it really would, if it were anyone else's but his desk. The Commander looks honestly baffled as he looks at the current unexplainable predicament he's found himself in. Levi silently swallows and hurryingly thinks up the first excuse he can pull out of his ass.

...ass. He points at the blonde.

"Your ass fucking broke my desk."

Erwin blinks before looking back down at the broken wood pile he sits on, chuckle leaving his throat. "I do really do guess Mitras quality still isn't worth much, huh? Overpriced yet completely unstable. Just like the lot of them."

"Your ass broke my fucking desk."

"Yeah - I - I guess it did..."

When he stands up he brushes himself off, looking at the damage that Levi swallows and tries not to think on the truth on actually why it broke - Erwin's ass was just the damn straw that broke the titan's back or whatever the saying goes. He didn't even want to think about how much from the budget it'd take to get this shit replaced but Erwin insists on it, saying Mike's folks actually are good craftspeople, they should be able to build an actual stable one instead of expensive dull and weak Sina bought ones. But yet... Levi wasn't sure on the truth of how weak it was since he fucked your guts out on it... but of course he couldn't just voice that part out loud. So he just quietly nods his head and agrees.

From that point afterwards he swear to you no more desk fucking.... for a good couple weeks then he finds you two at it again - however, Erwin was right, the new desk from Mike's family was very stable, very strong, very capable of withstanding a good dicking between you two.

Let's just hope it doesn't need to get replaced any time soon.

Hanji Zoë

Quite literally will jump at the chance to. Like you could be at the side of their desk, pointing over and drawn together diagrams and other research papers as they sit in their chair with their eyes wide staring at you not paying attention to a single thing you're saying - it's rude, they know, but it's so damn hard when you're so attractive! You don't notice their staring, you keep on talking business and adding your thoughts and commentary about certain test results on the latest experiments done on the two captured titans behind base: Jimmy and Stanley, as Hanji has named them - you only stop talking and look over when you process how quiet they've become, a very unusual thing for your lover, and your about to question what's wrong or if something about the results is troubling to them before they immediately have their hand on your face, cupped between their palm, as pull you down to kiss them.

Titans are quite literally the farthest thing on their mind as they push everything - every single thing, from the research notes you were just going over, to other important pieces of paper, to the junk nit-nacks they've hoarded on their messy desk - all onto the floor as the jolt and push back their chair to stand and pick you up to set you down on the surface and yank off your boots and pants.

They kiss all over your legs, nipping and biting and sinking in your touch as your fingers find the back of their brunette head to encourage their actions. Their breath is so warm against your underwear as they proceed to kiss through the material - getting an approving hum from you - before tantalizingly pluck their fingers in the band to begin to pull them down your legs, revealing your aching-with-need sex to them. But they don't touch you where you want right away, you're going to have to earn it by begging. They remind you of that while tracing their tongue over the worn marks of ODM straps on your thighs then biting at them, deep in the flesh.

Once you've begged enough to their liking do they finally touch you, and they're so good with their fingers, giving you a nice good prep before replacing it with their just as good tongue they devour your sex with. Then with their unoccupied hands they reach and grab around your hips so you can't squirm away from them as they are crouched down at the foot of that desk and go to town with you in their mouth like there's no tomorrow.

Your come stains their face when they finally pull away gasping for air - hadn't pulled away a single time since they started. They smile big at you, with their hands on your hips they scoot you in closer and with a rough sudden movement rocks the desk where you falling slightly forward so they can kiss you, making damn sure you taste yourself on their lips.

You're both on top the desk now. Hanji's - their lower half completely bare - straddled one of your legs as your rearranged as much as you can on the surface space to tangle them together and they have you slightly pushed back to where both your sexes can kiss and grind against each other. With obnoxious squeaks you fuck each other on it like animals.

They talk to you in punched out whispers, their chest - fully exposed as you've ripped open their shirt and tugged off the bandaged to reveal their breasts from underneath and bounce with each movement to two of you make. They also have their glasses pushed up and rest on the top of their head, they bounce with each movement too.

"You like this? You like taking my pussy like this? Naughty little thing... you know, I've noticed you bending over or sitting my desk with your legs open tons of times. Did you want this? But to embarrassed to ask? Huh?"

They get so domineering worked up like this you feel too high to even speak, you nod before your pulling in to more kisses as they completely fuck you further sending you closer and closer to the edge until your light headed and your whole body is numb, you fall back with your bones turned to jelly until everything sudden tightens again and the numbness fazes into hyperawareness when that snap in your gut happens and your practically sob with your release.

When your both done you two keep sitting on there for awhile, you're not even sure how long but Hanji rests into you with a wide smile on their face and half asleep in the crook of your neck but they lazily keep you sitting up and not to fall off onto the floor. It's nice, really nice, your hands stumble as you go to pet at your lover's hair and further relax into them.

But your afterglow safe haven doesn't last long as there's a sudden banging on the office door.

"Squad Leader! Stanley just bit a Cadet's arm off!" Uh oh.

Hanji's eyes go wide and whatever sleep was present in them before completely evaporates as they pull themselves off you. Panic sets it.

"Shit!" They curse and hop off the desk to go immediately pull their clothes sloppily and haphazardly back on - their pants are on backwards. They turn back to you.

"Give me like - uh - twenty minutes! Be right back!"

Incidents like this if word travels fast enough could be used as ammunition against the Corps, not to mention the poor kid...

They give you one last kiss before quickly rushing out the door, slamming poor Moblit in the face with it without realizing it as the shoot down the hall.

"STANLEY!!!"

They sob in a way like a parent just lost their child, which in a weird way they kind of did, they really did like that one... and it's nape's probably already been split open by now.

You should probably get dressed and join them, comfort their 'mourning'... if your legs can unjelly that is.

Erwin Smith

Erwin Smith is the biggest workaholic you've ever met. He spends 80% of his time glued at that damn desk and he can be very stubborn about it so it can take quite a lot to pull him away from it... though, maybe with some slight convincing...

He'll remain focused, neatly writing down his formal documentations to be sent to the capitol along with other important matters gathering his attention, even when you're behind him with your arms around his shoulders and kissing along his neck begging him to take a break as he's been in at one spot for around twelve hours straight. It won't be easy getting him away from work, he'll reassure how important his current business is and will blab on and on about all the detailed variables but honestly you could care less when he looks like he could fall over from overworking himself to death. He at least needed a damn break and you know how you could provide.

Did I mention how stubborn this man is? He won't break, even if you maneuver around in front of him and the desk as he sits there with you dropped on your knees... but he won't exactly say no, so that's start. He'll continue to work, even as you work to start pulling and undoing his belt, he'll continue jotting down on whatever he's working on but he won't stop you - hell he won't even give you any input as the sounds sounds in the office are the jingling of his belt and zipper being undone and the scribbles of pen on paper.

"Do you think Zackley would approve if I were to ask for more horses? It's best we have extra for Expeditions and I think it'd be best if each squad were to bring a couple extra in case one of their horses gets killed on the field."

He asks you, you having his cock buried deep down your throat. Casual - no, business causal in that way Erwin tends to do... but the obscurity for him to ask you about supply horses... you nearly choke because of it and surprisingly Erwin's hand finds to the back of your head to ease and balance your head out but he doesn't completely pull you off if it, as if he's come to terms with the whole situation but still he doesn't pull himself from work. It's clear you're going to easy on him. You will make him take a break from work.

You suck, swallow, take everything he has. Your hands grip tight at his hips as you your your face on his dick in steady but frequent rhythm that does get his hips to slightly buck forward every once in a while but he always comes to pet at your head in apologies if he accidentally put you in discomfort in any way and he carries on - the scribbling on the desk up behind you becoming more grading by the second.

However, there's one ray of hope... his balls.

Erwin will immediately jump in his chair and drop his pen - ink undoubtedly spilling and staining important documents the moment your mouth pulls off his cock entirely and replace it with his balls in your mouth. Play with them. Suck them. Fucking bite them. Anything. Now you have his attention and will earn a loud guttural groan from out his lips that seals the deal you've just locked in your mission success.

He sits completely back in his chair - whatever business details he was going over completely disappear in the back of his mind as both of his large hands find themselves in your head and he vocally encourages you to keep going. His cock will drip pre all over your face as you rest just below it rolling your tongue over his sack and he'll throb so needily for you.

It's then becomes so easy to get lost in everything that you don't even realize you're being pushed back further underneath the desk until Erwin's chair suddenly scoots up to sit up to it proper.

"I got these." Mike.

Mike had walked in and you can hear - and slightly flinch at the loud sound of - a stack of papers being dropped above you on the desktop. You sit there on your knees, slightly uncomfortable at the crowded position underneath the desk, your mouth still attached to Erwin's crouch - but you don't pull away, just look up as much as you can to see your lover manage to keep up sudden appearances to his cadethood friend as best he can... strangely hot in a weird way. And Mike Zacharias was no idiot.

"You feelin' okay?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be? Though, I do suppose I have quite the workload. I should finish soon."

Mike hums in response but you can't see his face, if you could you feel like it'd be more telling and revealing so, to save from embarrassment it's probably for the best.

Then the bastard sniffs and it sends fifty layers of fear and panic through your spine.

Silence.

"Hanji's holding a card game in their office, there's gonna be booze. I'll expect you not to work yourself to death and come. Bring (Name) too if you want. If you can find them, their squad has been looking for 'em for the past half hour."

Subtly, underneath the desk the Commander feels at your head with an affirming pat. "Will do, see you then, Mike."

You then carefully listen to the boots creak on the floor, you count up sixteen steps before the door opens and clicks close behind. Another beat passes in silence before suddenly the hand on your head tightens it's grip and pulls you forward as the Commander's chair scoots back and away from the desk before he makes your head tilt back and does he look down at you proper for the first time since the encounter started.

"Well," He addresses, voice low and dangerously smooth. "-looks like I'm done with my work, hm? You got what you wanted, you must be so proud."

"Erwin-"

"Pants off. On the desk. Legs spread. That's an order, (Surname)." He says with a crooked smile, the dirty one, the one that sometimes comes out during the most inappropriate of times. That one.

Well, it's your Commander's orders. You yourself grin as you get up to your feet. Who were you not to follow?

It's only a little bit awkward an hour later when the two of you finally step in Hanji's office (pigsty, as Levi calls it) cleaned up the best you could but still the two of you had that 'messed around' aura but no one really seems to question as Hanji jokes it's about time you two showed up before going on a tirade swearing up and down Mike's cheating - he simply raises his nose swearing he's not - before you sit down at the crowded trouble where Levi rolls his eyes and passes out cards for you both, muttering something under his breath you don't quite catch but Mike kicks him under the table for it, causing him to kick harder in return.

It's fun, having little moments of small non battle camaraderie like this, for just a small amount of time all of you get to not think about titans, the Walls, and certain death for once. It's especially nice looking over to Erwin, who is now enthralled in the card game and is a very deceptive cheat to the unexpected opponent and takes plenty of risky gambles as he's known to do - a good amount of people around this table can read him and no when he's lying but it is still rather difficult, his poker face is damn well good and practiced - but even still it's obvious he's having fun and is finally not focused to death on his work which makes you happy. Even if you should've definitely won that last hand.

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

[fizzing-imagines]

Teenage Pregnancy Series | Billy Hargrove x Reader

Notes: Billy does not get taken by the mindflayer in this one, aka he gets a happy ending. Please read the note about this series

Warnings: Mention of divorce, teenage pregnancy, premature birth

Word Count: 3.8k

Your dad didn't mess around when it came to you.

Once you told Billy that you were pregnant with his child, he was gone. Out of fear for his reaction, you didn't tell him for a whole month, and once you did he left. No phonecall, no visit, nothing. He wasn't even at school.

After a week, your father was fed up and drove over. You were his little girl, his everything, and he couldn't stand to see you cry every day. Neil greeted him at the door, God knows he couldn't stand him, with a gruff "Yes?"

"Good afternoon Mr. Hargrove. I was looking for William." Your dad never called your boyfriend by his nickname. Neither of you knew why, he just didn't. Maybe it was part of his army veteran exterior. "What's he gotten himself into now?" Your father knew about Neil, and how he treated Billy. If anyone was going to beat him up for how he's treating you, it would be him. "I'm planning a birthday surprise for (Y/N) and I wanted to include him."

Neil let him in the house, where he strutted into Billy's room. Without a knock, he swung the door open and then closed it behind him again, to not let Neil know what was going on. Billy was laying on his bed, smoking and starring at one of the posters on his wall when your dad grabbed him by the collar and held him against the wall.

"Son.", he started. "And I call you son because I have never treated you like less than a son. I don't know who you think you are, abandoning my daughter but you're coming with me right this second to apologise."

It all happened so fast that Billy was starring at him like a deer in headlights. Your dad wouldn't hurt him, he knew that much, but he also didn't expect this kind of confrontation. "My child is two months pregnant with your child. No matter how unfortunate the circumstances are, it's also your responsibility." Billy knew your father was right. He didn't want to disappear like his mother did, but he was scared to turn out like his father. But he would never admit that to your father.

"Right.", he simply said.

"So we're driving over now. And flowers are just a nice extra to a lengthy apology, don't you think?"

"Yes, sir."

20 minutes later, you heard your father pull into the driveway. You just finished crying for the countless number of times this week when the door unlocked. "Hey dad.", you said as you turned around the corner, just to see not only your father but also Billy with a big bouquet of flowers in his hands. "Got someone for you.", your father said while walking over. He placed a kiss on your forehead and whispered "Dig your heels in." to you before walking into the backyard.

"(Y/N).", Billy said quietly. You silently stepped up to him, to which he gave you the flowers. "Thank you.", you whispered. Of course he'd get your favourites, although you were never sure if he even remember which ones you liked best. "I'm...really sorry..." Immediately, you started crying again. This felt surreal to you. "Why?" was all you could sob under your tears. Something rare happened, something you'd deem extraordinary: Billy started crying. He never cries. "I'm scared.", he admitted. You quickly put the flowers down and pulled him into a hug. "I don't wanna end up like my asshole father." Emotions poured out of him. Honestly, it overwhelmed you a bit. Between him disappearing and not knowing if there would be a father for your child, him letting his emotions out was a lot. "I didn't mean to, (Y/N), I'm sorry." You held him through his tears, whispering that it was all going to be fine, that he won't have to do it alone. Billy was scared. But he'd be more scared of loosing you.

"We'll manage, okay?", you said after a while. By now, you were laying on the couch, Billy between your legs with his head on your chest. "We'll manage, no matter what. No Neil, no shitty family. We'll have our own." He was tired from crying and only let out a small hum in response. His hand found yours and intertwined with it. "I'll never leave you again, I promise.", he mumbled after a while before kissing the back of your hand. Despite the pain he caused this week, you were happy to have him back. To hold him again, and to be so vulnerable with him. "Do you wanna see it?", you finally asked. Your boyfriend looked up at you. "See what?"

"The baby."

Billy raised his head with a look that showed that he was thinking of what to reply. Finally, he said. "Yes." Both of you got up to walk into the kitchen, where your father has put the sonograms on the fridge like a proud grandpa. You took them down and handed it to him. "Baby was 5 weeks in this one.", you explained as you pointed at the first one. Honestly, there was nothing more but a small white dot. It didn't look like anything, but both of you knew that. "And this one is from two days ago, so we're at 9 weeks." It was much more visible in the second one. You could point out their tiny arms and legs, but especially the head. "Really photogenic, always lays perfectly to point everything out." The joke went over Billy's head since he could stop starring at the picture. That was his baby, in his girlfriends stomach, that he made with her. Billy couldn't help but immediately fall in love with the small life he created. He pulled you into his side and kissed the top of your head. "That's out baby."

"Yeah, that's ours."

"I think we'd all agree that it's best if Billy moves in with us.", your dad said during dinner one night. Billy was over every day now, not wanting to leave your side if he didn't have to. But those words caught him off guard. He looked at your dad, then you, then back to your dad. "Are you serious?" He started grinning, a rare sight to your dad. "You'll be 18 soon, no? Neil can't stop you then." Your boyfriend was in deep thought for a good while, before your dad added "You'll wanna live with your child. As long as one of you gets a job, you can live here rent-free." It was moments like these that showed your father's no-bullshit policy. He was a very honest and direct man, and it showed right now. "You're right. That would be great, honestly." Billy smiled at your father. "Thank you, sir." Your father gave him a nod of recognition before continuing to eat.

"Two more months, then.", you said to Billy that night as you laid in bed. His fingers were tracing along your stomach, feeling the slight curve the baby in your stomach was making. "You have no idea how much I want to get out of that shithole.", Billy said, still touching your belly. "I'm not just imagining the bump, am I?" You laughed a bit. "No, it's there. Although, tiny. He or she doesn't seem to like the attention of a baby bump." Billy looked down at you with a small smile before leaning into a kiss. He made sure to pour all the love and care he had for you and your baby into it, and it worked; you felt like you were floating. "I love you.", you whispered against his lips once you separated. His arms snaked around your waist and pulled you on top of him. "I love you, too."

Both of you remained quiet for a while, enjoying each others warmth. You started feeling sleepy and closed your eyes, until Billy asked you a question. "Do you wanna know if it's a boy or a girl?" That wasn't something you thought about yet, so you started thinking. "I don't know. What about you." He bit the inside of his cheek while thinking. "I don't wanna know. I'd be scared a boy would turn out like me, and I don't want to ruin your pregnancy." A soft smile spread on your face and you leaned fowars to give him a quick kiss on his cheek. "Alright. It'll be a surprise. But we gotta pick out names for both."

"Julia for a girl.", Billy said in a heartbeat. Julia was his mother, who he told you so much about.

"Julia for a girl.", you agreed.

"Billy.", you mumbled as you woke up. It was three in the morning and you craved nothing more than some icecream and coke right now. "Billy, baby.", you continued until he finally woke up. "What?", he groaned while rubbing his eyes. "I want icecream.", you said while playing with his hair. He turned his head to look at the clock on your nightstand. "It's three in the morning.", Billy complained before turning back around, trying to fall asleep again. "Please.", you whined as you shook his shoulders lightly. "I'm scared of the dark, Billy." Your boyfriend groaned again before sitting up. "Okay, let's get you your icecream."

He watched you eat your chocolate chip mint icecream and gulping down three cans of coke while leaning against the kitchen counter. "You happy?", he whispered to not wake up your father. You nodded your head with a wide grin, and that made it all worth it for him. The baby bump was growing bigger each day and now, at it was undeniable even while you wore his shirts. Billy saw the life you two made growing in you each day, and it made him finally feel like he had a role in life.

"But you're brushing your teeth again after this.", he whispered after a while. You simply nodded while shoving another spoonful of icecream in your mouth. As you finished the third can of coke, he already got you another one from the fridge. "You're the best boyfriend ever.", you whispering after he set it down next to you. Those words made him feel so warm inside, so much so that he leaned foward to kiss the tip of your nose.

"Even with icecream smeared around your mouth, you're still the sexiest woman on this earth.", he rasped in your ear. It send a shiver down your spine. He whiped the sticky residue from your mouth while you put the icecream down. "I think I'm craving something else now.", you whispered.

Never have you seen Billy put away food and dishes as fast as he did right now.

Billy had to be honest to himself, he didn't mind that your second trimester made you horny and energetic. Especially now that he finally moved in the moment he turned 18 and had you to himself all day, he was enjoying your company. And even more when it was the weekend and your father was at work.

"Oh fuck, Billy! Shit!", you moaned loudly for the third time this day. Billy was buried inside you all the way, filling you up like he'd be able to impregnate you again and doing his best so you could find your release. Your legs wrapped around his waist to keep him in place while you came down from your high. "Fuck, Billy...", you groaned. He slowly pulled out of you and laid down on the spot next to your body, where he pulled you up to him. "You feel incredible.", he mumbled into your hair. You were so glad that he matched your newfound libido. Billy pulled the blanket over both of you so you wouldn't get too cold.

"You okay, baby?", he asked while running his fingers over your spine. With a small nod, you hid your face in his neck and savoured the way he smelled. It became your favourite scent over the last few weeks. "I'm so happy it's the weekend, I wouldn't survive a schoolday with you around." Billy chuckled a bit before kissing the top of your head. "The showers are free most of the time.", he reminded you.

"I know, that might be how we ended up here."

"You really want to walk the stage waddling like a cow?", one of the basketball players asked you while you were showing Chrissy the graduation dress you wanted in a magazine. Not only yours and Chrissy's, but also Billy's head shot up. If there's one thing he would tolerate the least, it's anyone disrespecting you. "What the fuck did you just say?", he asked in an aggressive tone. His fellow teammate started stuttering his words, knowing he royally fucked up, but it was too late. Billy already got up and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Say that again." Peoppe from other tables were looking already, just waiting for Billy to get violent. "Fucking say that again.", he repeated. You felt anxiety rise in you; you didn't want him to hurt someone else because of you. "Billy, stop.", you said while standing up yourself. He glanced over at you, visibly pregnant with his baby. And then he remember what he told you: He didn't want to be like his dad. So, he let go of his teammates collar and walked back over to you. "Come on, I need a breather." Your boyfriend took your hand and walked outside with you.

"I'm proud of you, Billy.", you said as soon as both of you were alone on a bench. "I know it's hard for you to controll yourself." His arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. "I made a promise, to you and our kid." He can't admit this in public, but your words made him so happy. Honestly, he can't remember the last time someone told them their proud of him. But he did whisper a "Thank you." to you.

Billy pulled you on the couch to cuddle as soon as both of you came home. At 27 weeks, finding the right position became hard, but he somehow made it work. "You're a softie, Billy.", you giggled while putting your head on his chest. His heartbeat was calm, but it was your favourite sound. "Only for you.", he replied whole stroking through your hair. Your hair kept falling out for the past few weeks, but he didn't care about that. It was part of carrying his baby, and he was grateful for all the work you put in. "One more trimester.", he then said after a while. His hands found your belly and caressed it carefully. The baby's response was a kick, and Billy was ecstatic. "They kicked.", he commented with a smile. And they kept kicking for a good while before calming down. "They usually kick when you're being a soft baby.", you grinned at him, to which he scoffed lightly. As a response, you stretched your neck to kiss him on the cheek. "We like it, Billy. A lot. And I feel very honoured that only we get to see you like this." Billy didn't like admitting to it out loud, but there was no denying that you were his only soft spot. "It's a secret.", he mumbled.

"Of course, baby."

"We can't really put everything where it belongs yet.", you said as you unwrapped the fresh paintbrush. "But we can paint the walls, and at least build the furniture."

One out of two guest rooms was the designated nursery for the little one. Since you two decided to not find out the gender before the baby is born, there was no princess or dinosaur theme to do. But Billy wanted to include some beach elements for decorations, and paint the walls a sandy yellow. "You're not building anything, I'm doing that." He barely let you carry your books to school. But now that you both finished your last finals, there was a lot of time to put up the nursery. The guest bed had to stay until after your graduation since your mother and sisters would come to Hawkins for your graduation. Honestly, you didn't want them there - especially your mother always had a reason to complain. Now that you were 18 and pregnant, she had even more to bitch about. Plus, your sisters are just like her. That's why they stayed with her after the divorce and you moved with your dad.

"You're gonna have fun with my family, they're a bunch of cunts.", you said while giving the paint a stirr. "Not something I'm not used to.", he commented while covering the furniture he pushed into the middle of the room with a plastic cover. "You haven't had my sisters hit on you yet.", You watched him cover the bed and nightstand while speaking. "They can try all they want, you're the only one I want." Billy helped you stand up from the ground, then kissed your forehead. "I know. But they're just...something."

He put his hands on your bump, feeling the small kicks from that the baby was doing. "They didn't give me a roof over my head, or a child. They can get fucked."

"You look beautiful.", Billy said as he pulled you closer to him. The bump was big and round, making it impossible for Billy to pull you to him completely. Kicks hit his own stomach as your baby was kicking up a storm in you. "See, he or she agrees." Both of you laughed, you a bit more than him. "Thank you, Billy."

Both of you went downstairs to meet the others; your father, mother and two younger sisters. While your father gave you a rare smile, the other three looked less than pleased. As much as you didn't like them, it still hurt that they couldn't at least retend to be happy for one day. But that didn't matter that much while watching your dad fuzz over having to take pictures of you and Billy. Once he was done, you went to grab your gowns and Billy walked into the kitchen to fill your watter bottles. The constant dryness in your mouth was the most uncomfortable side effect, especially when you'd have to sit through a whole graduation ceremony. To Billy's misfortune, the older one of your siblings followed him into the kitchen.

"You're really doing a lot for her.", your sister said as she leaned against the kitchen counter next to Billy. He let out a gruff hum, not looking up once from the bottles he was filling. "Don't you think you deserve a little break with some fun?" She leaned forward, showing of as much cleavage as her dress let her show while dragging her pointer finger across his biceps.

"Touch me again and I'll break your fingers.", Billy threatened in a calm tone, still not looking up before leaving the kitchen with your water. But he didn't let it affect your incredibly good mood, plus he didn't plan on telling you in the near future. "You ready?", you asked with a wide smile. That smile made it all worth it.

"More than ready.", he replied before kissing you in front of your sisters.

Both of you finished up the nursery the second your mother and siblings left. It was pretty neutral, but the nursery mobile was ocean themed and some artwork on the walls depicted the ocean. Plus, a bunch of books Billy bought for the kid were about aquatic life and the ocean. You put up all the sonograms that were taken over the last few months, framed and everything. The nursery looked so beautiful.

And your baby thought the same.

Suddenly, you felt your pants getting wet. You looked down in shock and it took a while for your brain to puzzle together what was happening. "Billy, my water broke...", you said with a quiet voice. He looked over with a confused look. "What?"

"My water broke."

This wasn't supposed to happen, you weren't full-term yet. 34 weeks was too early. "Can you take me to the hospital? Please?", you sobbed. You felt like a small child, unable to controll your emotions and needing guidance from anyone else but you. But your boyfriend didn't waste any time to get you and your hospital bag in the car before driving you to the hospital, although way above the speed limit. It didn't matter to you.

Nothing did, except your baby being okay.

The birth was awful. You were in excruciating pain, and ended up having to get a C-Section because your baby was in breach. They were brought into the NICU while you were recovering in your room. While you were stable, Billy was scared. Scared of loosing you, or your child, or even both of you. But at least one of those fears washed away when you woke up. "(Y/N).", he husked in relief once your eyes fluttered open. His hand found yours and held it carefully while stroking the back of it.

"Hey.", you whispered as you looked at him through your blurry vision. "Baby's okay. She's in the NICU." The pronoun he used struck you. "She?", you asked. Honestly, you were sad that you weren't even awake to find out the gender. "Our little Julia.", he said with a smile. It was such a distinct, different smile. You've seen him happy, but never this happy. "Can I see her?", you asked. He kissed the top of your head before saying: "Once you're better, we can go see her all day."

"I can't wait."

"Stay in bed, I got it.", Billy mumbled while getting up to check on the baby. You were still recovering from giving birth, but both you and Julia were home from the hospital now. He was very attentive with both you and your daughter, and he didn't want you to overwork yourself. He had you in bed or on the couch most days, and carefully watched your every move when you were walking around. You could hear Billy calming your daughters crying, followed by footsteps walking to your shared bedroom. "Look who's here, Julia.", Billy cooed at his daughter while walking over to your bed. Julia was placed securely in your arms, where she looked at you quietly. She was tiny due to being born as a late preemie, but she pushed through and was now home with you. There was not a single doubt in your mind that you'll both love her forever.

"She's such a quiet baby, I'm worried.", you admitted to Billy. "I mean, she was born early. What if she's hard of hearing or something?" Your boyfriend sat down at the edge of the bed next to you. "Then we'll go through it as a family. No matter what." His fingers ran over her head, where she had a good amount of blonde curls already.

"Both of you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I'll be here for everything."

[daydaydayrk420]

Anything with Chris Evans please -

Be my Muse pt1

Chris Evans x male reader

⚠️nothing really all the good stuff is in part two⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨

Y/n/n - nickname

This ended up being longer than I intended to so I split it into two parts

______________________________________________________________

Chris is a famous actor. Most famous for playing Captain America for Marvel. He's also known for being kind and caring.

Now y/n isn't known for anything. He's no celebrity. He's just a guy who works at the local bar. On the weekends though he teaches art class.

It's a weekend class that's joined mostly by old people who are doing it for therapy.

So basically he's just hosting art therapy. But sometipmes there are people who join for the art not the therapy.

And by sometimes I mean this weekend. What's so special about this weekend? Let me tell you then.

Now pull your hand out your pants there's no porn here.

The day started the same as usual. Y/n wakes up. Does his morning routine. Watches YouTube or plays games for two Hours. Check his bag and go to his car.

The drive is half an hour long without traffic. He parks in his usual spot in front of the studio building that he shares with two more classes. Both include art but they work on different days and don't include the therapy. So obviously those two get the youngsters. While y/n gets left with old shaky hands. Which he doesn't mind. He loves seeing the people relax and smile at their art.

He walks in and sees that some of his regulars are already there. They're all elderly people. They're just by their lockers and the cafeteria getting ready for the class. The ones who notice the younger man greet him with a smile. Which he returns.

"Hey, James." Y/n greets kindly at the shorter old man. James is the oldest grandpa here. 95 to be exact. Yes, he's here for the therapy part of the class. He's a veteran. "Hey y/n/m. How are you doing son?" James greets them with a happy tone. He always saw y/n as a family. James has also been part of this class since it started. Which was five years ago.

Y/n smiles and sets down the paper bag with James's favourite doughnuts on the table where the old man had his coffee. "I'm good j. No bar fight this week." The younger man joked as he sat opposite of James. Said man laughs and takes out a doughnut.

This has become a tradition for them. Share a chat and doughnuts before every class. Sometimes even James brings something to bite on.

"What about you? You seem cheery today." Y/n asks as he removes his jacket to get comfortable. James hummed and wiped the sugar pounder off his lips. "I'm happy." He said with a content smile. Which made y/n smile too. "And I have a surprise for you." That caught the younger man with surprise.

"Oh? What's the occasion?" The younger man asks with curiosity. "Let's just say it's my thank you for the happy five years I've had so far." That melts y/n's heart. He knows James suffered with depression and that he still might be. So knowing he can make James happy is all he needs to be happy too.

"The problem is my gift is stuck in traffic and will be here in about an hour." Jame chuckles. Y/n laughs. "Oh? What kind of a gift is that then?" He jokes. He's really curious now. Stuck in traffic?

"I ain't spoiling my long-planned surprise, kid." James laughs. The younger man dramatically pretends to be annoyed but a smile creeps onto his face.

The two of them chat for a bit before they all go to their usual places in the studio.

Y/n first goes to the toilet before he starts the class.

When he returns he takes his usual spot in the front corner of the class where it doesn't block whatever they're painting or drawing. He sets his stuff where he wants it and faces the class. He scans the faces. The elder people seem happy today. They all talk and laugh about their memories from the week.

That's until he notices a new face. A young face. But he's looking away. Y/n tilts his head. He knows that facial structure from somewhere. He's drawn it before.

"Alright. Does everyone have their supplies?" Y/n called out to get everyone's attention. He makes sure everyone nods or checks for everything.

That's when he finally catches the new face. Chris Evans. Chris fucking Evans is talking with James about what pain he's using.

"I see we have a new face here." Y/n cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. Chris looks up and smiles. "Would you like to introduce yourself or would you rather if they want to meet you they come to you." Y/n suggested as he always does so his students aren't uncomfortable.

"I'm alright thanks." Chris smiles. The younger man nods and looks at his papers to see what they're doing. "Alright so as usual. We have fruit on the stand. Or if you want to do your Topic that's fine too. The art style is all up to you, of course." He reads through his notes to make sure he's got everything. "Alright. That's about it. What song should we play first?"

The time passes by. Everyone's drawing including y/n. It's about time that y/n checks in with everyone. So he puts his brush down and goes to the first canvas. Eventually, he gets to James and rests his hand on his shoulders. "Hey, James, how's it going." He asks with a soft voice as he studies what abstract James is painting today.

It's just a bunch of paint splatter on the canvas. "The usual." The old man hummed proudly. Y/n nods and moves on to the next guy. Aka. Chris Evans. Aka Frank Adler. Aka. Y/n big fat celeb crush. But he keeps a friendly smile on his face and looks at the canvas. He stands stunned.

It's him. The charcoal outlines shape him drawing his art. "That's... Sweet." Y/n didn't know what else to say. Chris chuckles. "Thanks."

The younger man admires the drawing for a tad longer than he wanted. Eventually, he snaps out of it and looks at Chris. Who's already looking at him and smiling. Y/n blushes in surprise. Chris hands his hand out. "Chris."

Y/n wants to laugh because he obviously already knows who the man in front of him is but he doesn't and just grabs his hand. "Y/n" he shakes his hand.

"Y/n." The older man murmurs. "Handsome name for a handsome man." Y/n blushes at that again.

"So what brought you to my class?" Y/n wants to start a conversation. He doesn't want to move to the next person. He wants to talk with Chris. "Oh I was invited by James." Chris said casually as if that didn't just blow y/n's mind out of proportion. He looks at James as if asking "this is the gift?" And James winks knowingly.

The younger man faces Chris again and smiles. "James? How'd he manage to do that?" He's genuinely curious. "His granddaughter works with me. She's a movie clothing designer." The older man said as he set down his charcoal.

"Ohh. Jasmine works with movie stuff?" Y/n asks surprised. "You know Jasmine?" Chris looks surprised. "Not personally. Just from stories." The younger man said. Chris nods. "Well I should move on. Keep up your drawing." Y/n smiled and moved on to another person.

The class comes to an end and everyone gathers their things to leave. Y/n has to stay so he can lock up. James and Chris also stay behind.

"So? Happy?" The younger man jumps in surprise when he hears James's voice form behind him. The old man laughs. "I take that as a yes."

The younger man chuckles and nods. "Thank you James. I really appreciate you doing this."

"I know you wanted to meet him for so long. And when I found out that Jasmine knows him I tried my best to bring him here." The old man grins and pats y/n's back.

"Anyway I gotta go my pick-up is here." They hugged goodbye and James left.

"You doing anything after?" Y/n jumps in surprise at the voice from behind him. Chris chuckles. "Sorry didn't mean to scare ya."

"Uh no I'm not doing anything after this." Y/n chuckles nervously. "Would you like to go get some food with me?" The older man asked with a grin. "Sure." The younger man smiles and hides the fireworks that are going off inside his body.

And so they went out. They didn't really have a specific destination they just walked until they found something they'd crave. But that of course didn't last for long because paparazzi have found them. Y/n thinks fast and takes Chris towards the parking lot in front of the studio. He walks fast and moves through some alleys so they could hopefully lose the cameras.

They make it to the car and quickly hop in. They drive off. Once they've calmed down from the adrenaline they both laugh. "Good thinking." Chris praised.

Y/n smiles. "Thanks."

They put on the radio and talk as y/n drives home.

.

..

...

Pt2

[monzamash]

uncool — lando norris

lando norris x you no warnings part of the golden retriever lando/black cat reader universe (need a better name for this little series lol) requested in october last year – i am so sorry it's been that long! this request has been hiding in my drafts and i rediscovered it today so hopefully you're still here, anon 💋 masterlist

“are you having fun?!”

lando looked like a fish out of water in a sea of black-clad metal heads, holding onto your hand for dear life with his hoodie over his head and a grimace on his worried face. it wasn't rocket science – you that knew lando was only there because you asked him, suffering in the mosh pit of your favourite band because he loved you more than ringing ear drums and a couple of fresh bruises in the morning. it also made him feel closer to you being there, in your little world that you kept close to your passionate yet guarded heart. music was the thing that bonded the two of you in the early days when you thought there was no way a stupidly cute formula one driver (and budding DJ) would have anything in common with little old you.

“it’s… hectic! are you okay?”

maybe there was a really small part of him that was hoping you weren’t okay and he could pull you both out of this waking nightmare but when he looked down into your glassy eyes, smile bigger than the moon, he knew you were in your happy place and god, you looked beautiful – smudged mascara and all.

“i’m great! – oh my god they’re playing saviour!” you screamed and lando mustered up his best fake smile and returned to his role as a pretender in a crowd of die hard fans, all singing in sync with you.

you were a mosh veteran, old hat by now and you could sniff out a poser from a mile away. lando’s stiff body behind you, hands gripping the jacket wrapped around your waist, made you feel a little guilty as the crowd began to jump and he didn’t, or at least he didn’t until he figured out the chord progression and attempted to move in time with the beat. you smiled a little to yourself and intertwined your fingers with his, quickly leaning up and pressing a kiss to his jaw as the pyro exploded above in a loud crescendo.

“that was amazing!” you yelled over the house music. the bright floodlights filled the arena and shone a spotlight on your sweet boyfriend who’s relieved eyes were as big as saucers.

“i don’t know how i survived that – fuck me,” lando exhaled, leaning into you for support as you turned towards the exit and wrapped an arm around his waist.

you couldn’t stop the chuckle slipping from your lips as you watched him limp, “baby, if you didn’t want to mosh you should’ve said something – i wouldn’t have minded standing up the back if it meant you would enjoy it more.”

lando shook his lowly hung head and braved your gaze, “how could I do that when you were having the time of your life? i love seeing you happy and being apart of it but i don't think i'm cut out for that moshing, crowd thing… and i didn’t want you to think i’m uncool.”

his confession surprised you a little, much like the cold london breeze did as you stepped into the brisk night air, hand in hand. but deep down you knew this wasn’t his scene, he was doing it for you and you love him for treading out of his comfort zone for one night so you could be in your element. 

“oh honey, i never thought you were cool to begin with,” you teased, earning an eye roll and a coy smile, “but i love that you would risk your life like that for me – you’re so braaave.”

lando playfully elbowed your ribs and pulled you into his side with an embarrassed groan, making you giggle and wriggle out of his tight grip, “uh uh, you’re not getting away with that! i can be cool!” he doubled down and spun you around – the smile you know and loved returning to his handsome face.

“name one time!” you snorted trying to get your breath back from laughing and failing miserably as you held onto his jacket for balance.

“oh, um i dunno, maybe driving a freakin' race car at 350 kilometres per hour,” lando shrugged humorously and you laughed before placing your cold hands on his chest and surrendering with an adoring smile.

“okay, you are really cool and very sexy driving fast cars, i’ll give you that.”

“thank you,” lando sighed with closed eyes, basking in the small victory before looking down into yours with all the sincerity in the world, “and i would risk my life for you every day of the week – all you have to do is ask.”

"oh, you are sooo getting laid tonight," you whispered, tugging him closer and placing a strong kiss to his shivering lips.

"oh yeah?" lando asked, eyebrows suggestively wiggling.

"oh yeah."

request from anon: "saw this one and immediately thought your writing style, it, and a lando desperate to impress were a match made in heaven: “I didn’t want you to think I’m uncool.” “Oh honey, I never thought you were cool to begin with.” 😘

[madhattervanessa]

Caress

Summary: Life with Simon settles into a routine- but it has to end at some point.

Warnings: (Unedited filth lmao bc I didn't want to wait to post this) Simon being very casually dominant, oral (f receiving), bit of rimming, light anal, P in V, hair pulling, biting, creampie

Words: 1766

A/N: Another another another, and two more down the line. This train is bound to stop sometime soon but until then....

Requests are open as always.

Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

prev. Part - next Part

-

Life settles into something absurdly… Normal, after.

After being after Simon had hauled all of your clothes over to his apartment because he had assembled a second dresser in his bedroom next to his own for you.

There had been glimpses of Simon looming over you in your day to day life before but now you can hardly escape the man.

Not that you would want to. 

The store clerk that usually tries to chat you up while you shop for groceries took one good look at the shadow looming over your shoulder and promptly turned the other way.

When Simon picks you up from veteran’s meetings, he always holds your hand as he drives, not even bothering to let go when he shifts gears.

The mask he wears in public doesn’t bother you. It comes off in his apartment, after all.

Or the moment he ate you out on the side of a field because you had fed him a strawberry in his car before murmuring about how you’d thought he’d deserved a reward for picking you up from work. That was enough cause for him to ruck his mask down, too.

It also made for a pleasant dream.

You smile as you open your eyes. It’s still dark outside, the wind howling as it blows through the town. You stretch your body as you rub at your eyes and hear Simon shuffle behind you. He wraps an arm around you to pull you against him. You nudge him with your foot, checking to see if he’s awake.

He grunts in response.

You lift a hand to let it ruffle his damp hair. Blonde, cropped-short.

“Are you leaving again?”

He leans into your touch when you start to put some pressure into your pets, gently massaging his head as you yawn.

“Eager to get rid of me?” His breath feels hot on your cheek, smelling a bit like stale coffee. He trails his lips over your neck until you feel the point of his crooked nose against your skin.

“Don’t know how much longer I can take you fucking me like an animal”, you sigh. He grabs your hand and presses a quick kiss to it.

“‘m set to leave at the end of the week.” Your answering hum is quickly turned into a squeal when Simon pulls you until you are lying underneath him.

His breaths hit your ear and there’s a telltale throb that answers from your legs when he asks you if you think you’ll be able to handle him until then.

You hum and it turns into a whine when he drags his teeth over your neck.

Your breath hitches when he drags the covers off of you and starts making his way down your spine.

“Simon…”

He bites into one of your asscheeks. You squeak in surprise and immediately bury your face in the pillows when you hear him chuckle.

“Spread your legs.”

You blush and hesitate but Simon’s warm hands are already parting your legs. He pushes one of them into the back of your knee, pushing it towards your chest. 

His nose nudges against the swell of your asscheek and you arch your back a little more.

“Mh. Pretty.”

“Si-”, you whine, your cheeks burning already, even though you can’t see the way Simon is staring at you. 

“Can I have a taste?” He is already letting his thumb nudge at the puffy lips of your pussy. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, yes”, you sigh.

He grunts and you jump when you feel his nose nudge against your hole as his tongue licks a broad stripe over your pussy. You sigh and bite at your lip as he repeats the motion, slowly spreading your slick over your pussy before he starts to lick your clit.

He is relentless, always hungry for you- there are already wet sounds from your pussy rubbing against his nose. His wide palms are pulling your cheeks apart as he buries himself in your pussy. When he starts suckling on your clit, he lets his thumb dip inside of your pussy, finally giving you something to clench around.

It’s the focus that turns you on the most- when Simon has sex with you, you feel like the center of the world. The way he focuses on every hitch of your breath, every jump and twitch of muscle as he works you over until he gets it perfect.

You can’t help but jump a little when he pulls your pussy open with his thumb before dragging his tongue over it.

He sits back, his thumb continuing to fuck into you as he does.

“Good girl”, he groans. The wet sounds behind you have you lifting your head from the pillows. Simon’s eyes are still fixed on your pussy as he fists his cock. 

You see his jaw work and watch as he spits onto your pussy. His thumb collects his spit and you feel his thumb travel up. Your brows furrow and you watch, equally confused and aroused, as he circles your asshole with his thumb.

When he pushes it inside a little, you let out a breathy, wet gasp. He continues stroking himself and finally, his eyes meet yours. When you don't protest, he pushes his thumb down with a little more pressure.

“Simon- fuck-... fuck me.”

He hums and slaps the tip of his cock against your pussy, making you whine into the pillow in front of you again, already bracing for him just before he pushes the tip inside of your pussy.

“Fuck love,” he groans. He is careful as he spreads your slick over his cock in shallow thrusts, splitting you apart.

His hand grips hard at your hip as he bottoms out, really making you feel the stretch before he starts to gently roll his hips. You moan and when the next thrust hits you, you go lax in his sheets, blindly trusting him to keep fucking you and keep an eye out for you.

“There you go. You like having somethin’ in your ass, too, hm?”

You just nod weakly, fully focused on the delicious drag of his thick cock in and out of your pussy. Another wet glob of spit meets your ass and he is quick to push it in with his thumb. He moans as he manages to nudge it inside you up to his first knuckle.

You feel unbelievably full, your nerves lit from your head to your toes as you let him pound into you.

“Gonna miss you”, he groans, his second hand grabbing desperately at your hip as his thrusts grow sloppy.

“Not just because of this”, he adds before molding himself to your back. He grinds into you, fucking you with his cock and his thumb as he smothers you into the sheets. His teeth scrape over your shoulder and you take a shuddering breath. 

“Simon-!” Is all you manage but he seems to know just what you need, his second hand reaching underneath you to play with your clit.

He is crushing you with his weight on you but it just feels too good to care about.

Your head swims as you feel yourself rapidly approaching an orgasm. Another pitiful moan follows and you feel the rumble of Simon’s groan as you bear down on him to ride out the sharp spikes of pleasure running through you.

He doesn’t stop. Just slows down, biting lazily into your back. You cry out as he starts to lean back, one of your hands reaching for him.

He catches your hand with his and leans down to press a kiss to it.

“Feel good, love?”, he asks, still going slow, but his deep thrusts are making your eyes cross.

“Uhuh, yeah- fuck- s’good, Si.”

"Yeah.." , he groans, the self-satisfied rumble incensing you for a moment. But then you feel him reaching over until his fingers are gliding through your hair over the back of your neck until they reach the back of your head.

A careful tug has you following his directioning upward. You arch your back and reach out to hold on to the headboard. He leans towards you until you are pressed up against his chest. He continues fucking into you and the angle makes him feel bigger, like he is bulging through your stomach.

Your mouth is hanging open as you pant, trying to keep up with his deep thrusts. You reach back to hold on to his wrist.

"P-Pull harder", you manage. Simon grunts and puts some more strength into his grip, eliciting a deep groan from you. The sharp sting is just enough to make you come again.

The reaction is instant; Simon goes rigid as you grind back against him more, a helpless curse falling from his lips as his thrusts become short and stunted.

He pulls you away from your leverage until you are pressed up entirely against him. He bites down onto your shoulder and fucks up into you, ridiculously overstimulating you, before you feel him twitch and cum inside.

He wraps his arm around your waist and carefully loosens his grip after, still panting heavily. Your head lolls against his shoulder and you feel yourself start to tremble as the tension leaves your body.

He shushes you and presses a gentle kiss to your temple. He lets himself fall back to sit on his legs, pulling you with him.

"You're okay?"

"Uhuh- I just.. I think I need some breakfast", you murmur, still feeling your legs tremble.

"If you can make it to the shower, I'll get something started for you."

He strokes over your arms, rubbing at your legs, slowly bringing you back as you melt into his touch.

"I really want a cinnamon latte. And my back will be killing me after that stunt."

"Okay, love." He presses another wet kiss to your cheek and you smile. You turn your face and catch his jaw in your hand to lead him into a soft kiss.

He hums and leans towards you, making you sway briefly as he all but dips you in the sitting position before pulling you upright.

You're undecided if the motion or the feeling inside of your chest are making your head spin. You open your eyes to find him scooting the two of you towards the edge of the bed.

He helps you get up and you stagger before finding your balance again. When you turn towards him, he slowly scans you until he arrives at your eyes, holding your gaze.

"How long will you be gone for?"

He averts his eyes.

.

[leviismybby]

AOT veterans walking in on you and Levi

Erwin

Once and never again, he was so caught up in his work that he forgot for a moment that you and Levi were a couple. He didn't have time to finish his reports so he wanted to ask Levi to do it for him. Now, he did knock on the door of your bedroom but he didn't wait for a response which was a mistake. You and Levi were in the middle of it, his body on top of yours, your nails digging into his back as his hips moved passionately until.....Erwin clears his throat, luckily the sheet was over you and Levi so he didn't see the full thing, it was still awkward either way. "Sorry for the interruption but I need to borrow Levi for a moment. Do meet outside once you're decent." Erwin exits the room and Levi groans. "I stand stand this fucking place sometimes." He pulls out of you gently, kissing your forehead before getting up.

You watch the fresh marks on his back as he gets ready, he pulls up his underwear and pants, the frown on his face almost makes you laugh. Levi makes his way outside in the hallway. "What the fuck do you want?" Erwin looks at him. "For you to finish these, I have to attend a meeting and don't have time. Also, to learn how to lock the door when you and name are.... Busy." Levi scoffs at Erwin's words and takes the file from his hand. "Learn how to knock first, Smith." Erwin chuckled at Levi's tone before adjusting his coat. "I did, you two were too caught up in the moment to notice." He nods his head at Levi and then turns around to walk away, Levi glares at his back before he returns to your bedroom. It didn't affect Erwin at all, after all, you and Levi were soldiers and he understood that stress needed to be taken care of one way or another. But he was very careful since then, not catching you ever again.

Hange

Not going to lie, this one was completely on you and Levi. Levi couldn't wait for you two to get back to your room so he pulled you into a random room in the headquarters, that room just happened to be Hange's lab. You two were kissing, you were bent over a table, your hands gripping the wood as Levi pounded you. Somehow, you both missed Hange's voice coming down the hallway. "...so you see I have some in my- oh hello." Hange says, their eyes going slightly wide before they smile. "How did you manage to bend her over like that??" "Dammit Hange! Get the fuck out!" Levi growled, covering your body and his voice was rough. "Hey I am the one who is supposed to be the mad one here, you two are fucking in MY lab-" Levi takes a folder and throws it at them, Hange quickly hides behind the wall. "Okay okay, I get it.." They close the door quickly before their squad arrives. "Squad leader is everything okay?" Nifa asks carrying a stack of books Hange told her to bring to her lab. Hange is trying not to laugh as they speak. "It's all fine Nifa but umm my lab is currently preoccupied. Why don't you all bring those books to my office and I'll be there in a second kay?" Their squad nods and walks past her, Hange giggles to themselves before opening the door to purposely mess with you and Levi some more. "Well that's a new position." "Hange!" Both of you say at the same time and they snicker before closing the door behind them. "Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with them...?" Levi asks, his hands on your hips, still inside of you. "It's Hange, you know how they are..." You say holding onto him tightly. "This was a bad idea but I am not stopping now." He kisses you again. Hange caught you before but this one was most entertaining for them.

Miche

Was not impressed at all, he caught you two while you two were at the training ground. It was late at night and Levi couldn't help it after seeing you all hot and sweaty after training. Miche was preparing the training grounds for tomorrow's training, he was setting up the training dolls and making sure that all the equipment was put right. He heard weird sounds coming from the trees nearby and decided to check it out. To his surprise it wasn't anyone in pain, it was you moaning as Levi was on his knees in front of you eating you out while your hands gripped his hair. Miche peeked around the tree and quickly looked away but he wasn't afraid to make his presence known. "Seriously? Out here?" His voice spoke surprising both you and Levi, Levi quickly stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as you pulled your pants up. "Why on the titans name are you out here?" Levi says, clearly frustrated that he was interrupted in the moment with you. "I am doing my job unlike you." Miche comes around the tree and crosses his arms over his chest as he looks down at the two of you. Levi glares up at him and you can't meet his gaze out of embarrassment. "You two do know that if I report this to Erwin he can give you a punishment." Miche says keeping his voice calm, despite his words you and Levi both know that he won't do it, he said it the last time too but never actually told on you. Besides, Erwin wouldn't bother with the matter anyway. "And what? You think someone will actually punish me for having private time with my girlfriend?" Levi says back leaning against the tree as you sigh. "That's not the issue Levi. The issue is that you two keep doing these activities everywhere else apart from your bedroom it seems." Silence follows after that, it's not like Miche is in the wrong here. "Well then, I'll be off. But please for the love of everything, her a room." He chuckles slightly as he walks away. You groan. "You couldn't wait?" Levi looks at you as you say that. "No. Now spread your legs and lean back on the tree."

Nanaba

The worst luck, she walks in on the two of you in Levi's office. You were sitting on his lap riding him as he gripped your hips, his lips kissing your jaw when you speed up your hips. The two of you were close to your orgasms until. "Captain Levi, I was told you have the......training....schedule." Nanaba stops in her tracks and quickly turns around and exits the office not wanting to invalidate your privacy. She decides after a few seconds to talk through the door, yes it's an awkward situation but she still needs to get her job done. "I apologize for that. I was just wondering if the training schedule is done so I can forward it to other soldiers." Nanaba spoke firmly through the door, as she expected, there was no answer. She was about to walk away when papers slid from under the door, Nanaba picks them up and looks at them. "Thanks Levi." She walks away, slightly shocked at what she just saw still, she can't help but laugh a little, she will now have something to tease you about. Levi was annoyed that he was interrupted at the most intense times. "At least she respected our privacy." He says and sits back down on his chair, pulling you on his lap. "Levi...I thought you just learned your lesson." You smile as he kisses from your neck. "I locked the door since people in this place clearly have zero fucking moral."

Moblit

Oh poor thing, he is the one that never caught anyone like that so he was super flustered. He didn't even know how to react when he caught you and Levi in the library. It was evening and all Moblit wanted was to read a book. On the other side of the library, you and Levi were making out against the bookshelf, your hands and legs wrapped around Levi tightly as he entered you. Levi did hear someone open the library door so he put a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he continued to thrust into you. Moblit had a gas lamp in his hand as he went on to look for a book to read until he took a step around the corner and then, his lamp dropped on the floor as he saw you and Levi. "I am so sorry! I didn't know- I didn't mean to!" He quickly takes any book from the bookshelf and just runs out of the library with a blushing face. You laugh when you hear the door close. "Poor Moblit. He must be modified." Levi scoffs, his cock sliding in and out of you. "I don't fucking care. I heard him come in, his fault for being too curious." He kisses you on the lips again. Hange laughs as they get Moblit to tell them what got him blushing so much. "You'll get used to it. I caught them in my lab once, they have zero shame." Hange taps Moblit on the shoulder. And for a few days Moblit tried to avoid you and Levi as much as he could, though he didn't judge you two at all.

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

Ze has a special moment with one of the veterans ❤️ (1, with commentator voice)

Veteran: “You’re the savior of the people, you bring tears to my eyes.”

Ze: “No no, you saved Europe.”

Veteran: “My hero.”

Ze: “No, you are our hero.”

Veteran: “I pray for you.”

[stormsplurge]

i can do it with a broken heart

warnings: smut stuff, handjobs, etc.

pairing(s): seth jarvis x fem! reader

okay this is kind of rough cause i actually lowk suck at writing smut but i cant get better without practice so! this is also like not proofread at all sorry, title is because of the taylor song except it kind of has nothing to do with the plot i was just listening to it when i got the idea and then it kind of just devolved into just smut instead of an actual plot

1071 words

two losses in a row.

two games full of stupid penalties, and dangerous hits.

it was frustrating, watching your boyfriend work his ass off only to have all the effort he put in fall flat once the final whistle gets blown, and part of your chest ached thinking about how he was handling it. 

everytime you watched seth get knocked into the boards you tensed up, immediately worrying about if he was okay or not. mentally and physically.

he had been hard on himself all season, trying to prove that last years sophomore slump was just that: a sophomore slump, and make his presence on the team known. but no matter how well he played the devil on his shoulder still told him he wasnt supposed to be there. 

there was also, of course, the added pressure of being in the playoffs. wanting to give it your all every night to get the veterans on the team to the final round, and feeling like youd let them down whenever you lose.

seth had been taking that part of playoffs especially hard, feeling like he owed it to burnzie to finally get him a cup. a thank you for taking him under his wing when he first got to carolina. 

he had been working on breaking his habit of getting in his head, and having a terrific series against the islanders certainly helped, but watching him on the bench you could see the gears turning in his brain and reverting back to his pessimistic tendencies. 

as much as you wanted to be with him in new york, you were forced to wait at home in raleigh for seth to come home. 

——

it was late when he got back from new york.

you were waiting in the living room, fighting back the fatigue that so desperately wanted to wash over you, willing yourself to stay awake until you boyfriend came home. 

the clock had just barely hit 12:30 when you heard the front door slowly creak open and all of seths bags hit the floor. 

jumping up from your spot on the couch you hurried over to the foyer where he stood, wrapping your arms around him and melting into his touch. 

“im so sorry” you whispered into his chest, rubbing circles into his back as you let him rest his head on yours.

seth didnt respond, instead opting for a single grunt like noise and tightening his grip around you. 

“are you okay?” you asked as you finally pulled your head from the hole it was digging in his sternum “i saw you taking advil on the bench”

“ill be fine.” he replied “i just want to stay like this”

“i know.” you mused, “but i have a better idea, lets take a shower. i can wash your hair and you can get that plane smell off of you before you get into bed.”

you got another grunt response, which you took as a yes, so you laced your fingers with his and led him towards the bathroom. 

you and seth helped each other out of your clothes, slowly peeling back layers upon layers of fabric. 

in a sense, it felt like you were tearing down the walls he’d put up in the couple of days hed been away. sanding down the mental dirt and grime that had slowly built up when seth was in new york. 

maybe it was the time apart, or the melting pot of emotions in the bathroom, but the second the two of you were under the spray of the showerhead seth pulled you into a deep kiss. 

his hands snaked around your waist as his teeth lightly bit down onto your lower lip, coaxing a whimper from your lips and turning your legs into jelly.

“i missed you so much” he mumbled into your mouth

“oh yeah?” you grinned, dragging your nails down his thighs and letting your fingers linger near the base of his cock. “prove it”

his dick twitched at the challenge, practically jumping into your hands as you began languidly moving your hands up and down his shaft. the mixture of shower water and precum coating your palms.

as you continued your sloppy handjob, seths hands made their way from your lower back to in between your legs. he’d pushed the two of you up against the shower wall and slightly hitched one of your legs up, allowing him access to your core.

his calloused fingers made their way atop your clit, smoother than usual due to the pruning the water was doing to them, but there was only so much water could do. and his free hand made its way to your nipples. gently pulling and twisting as the ball of nerves grows in your stomach. 

“im so close” you moan as you speed up your hands, trying to get seth to come at the same time as you. 

“so am i baby” he grunts out as he begins rutting his hips up into your hands. 

everything about this is sloppy. from the way his wet hair haphazardly falls onto his forehead when he looks up at you to the way your head digs into the tile behind you as you continue climbing towards an orgasm. 

the various moans, whimpers, and grunts filled the bathroom as the two of you finally reach your climax. 

ropes of cum splatter onto your hips before quickly being washed away by the stream of water from the showerhead, and you reach towards the loofah hanging on the door. adding a dollop of body wash before spinning seth around so you can clean the hard to reach places on his back. 

“i love you so much” he says. “thank you for doing this.”

“you dont need to thank me seth, we have sex all the time this is nothing new.”

“i know, but like- you know. thanks for doing all this. like knowing exactly what i needed after that shitshow game today.”

“oh seth,” you reply, spinning him around and taking his head in your hands. 

“i’m serious, i love you so much.”

“i love you too.” you say as you pull him into another kiss. 

as the water drips over you two you cant help but smile, satisfied with the fact that even though the canes had sustained two losses in a row, you were able to cheer your boyfriend up with a simple shower. 

[decentwritings]

Chapter 1

Summary: At twenty-six, you never expected your life to look like this: a veteran, a college dropout, now running drugs to cover your late father’s debts. The military took you away for a brief moment, but now you're back in your hometown, keeping family at a distance to keep them safe. Your simple plan to clear the debt, one job at a time, unravels the moment Mabel steps into your life.

previous part <- -> next part

The man's voice echoes as you make your way to your truck. You're too focused on his words, the smirk on his lips as he says it.

"Like father, like daughter..."

You grip the car door handle, pulling it only to find it locked. You swore you unlocked it. You shake your head at yourself and unlock it this time, hopping in with the words still echoing.

The truck's interior feels suffocating, the familiar scent of worn leather and saltwater suddenly heavy. You slam the door shut, trying to drown out the memory of the man's mocking tone. He didn't know anything about you—just like everyone else in this town, he only saw the shadows of your father's choices lurking behind you.

You lean your forehead against the steering wheel, taking a deep breath. Your heart races, the weight of the night settling onto your chest. "Get a grip," you mutter to yourself, but the words offer little comfort.

You glance in the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see him lingering behind, smirking like he just won some twisted game. But the street is empty, illuminated only by the flickering streetlights.

You start the engine, its rumble cutting through the silence. As you shift into gear, a sense of urgency drives you to leave this place behind. But then a flash of Mabel's smile crosses your mind, a light that momentarily pierces through the darkness that seems to follow you.

You grip the steering wheel tighter, torn between wanting to escape and wanting to stay. What if she finds out? What if she looks at you the same way he did?

What about your mother? Your sister? Your nephew? You have so many people relying on you—and the weight of their expectations feels heavier than ever. You can't afford to let them down, to bring them into the chaos that has consumed your family. You can't let them see you falter or break, not when they've already lost so much.

Taking a deep breath, you force yourself to focus on the road ahead, the dim glow of streetlights flickering past your window. The familiar sights of the town blur together, each one a reminder of what you're fighting to keep safe. You push the thought of Mabel aside, reminding yourself that friendships can't thrive in darkness.

You're in need of a swim. The last five days have been filled with work that you haven't had time to go for a swim in the ocean. You also have been avoiding it because you're afraid Mabel may be there.

It's been five days though. No one goes to the beach recurrently like you. You should be in the clear.

Your duffel bag hits the sand when you find the right spot. The sun is beginning its descent behind the horizon and you can't believe how beautiful it looks. It never ceases to amaze you how the sun setting looks. Especially when it tucks behind the horizon.

The swim is long but not long enough. The only reason you swim back to shore is to rest your arms, the ache in them stronger than your need to do another lap. You return back to your spot and plop down on your towel, eyeing the shimmering sand on your wet legs and feet. You're slightly out of breath and tired, but you needed that more than you care to admit. You know you can't spend too much time here. You have a feeling Rudy will come out here in search for you after your last run in.

"You've been avoiding me."

Ahh damn, you think, your head dropping the instant you hear her voice.

You pick at the sand on your legs, attempting to brush it off. "I'm not avoiding anyone," you say back, glancing over your shoulder to get a look at her. You let out a soft sigh, knowing you can't hide from her now. Mabel stands a few feet away, her silhouette framed by the fading light, the glow of the sunset casting a warm hue over her features. You can feel your heart racing despite the chill of the evening breeze.

"Your uncle says you come by here everyday," Mabel says as she makes her way over to you.

You glance up at her, feeling a mix of embarrassment and longing. "He tends to exaggerate. It's not like I have a set schedule or anything."

Mabel laughs softly, her eyes sparkling in the waning light. "Well, it seems like he knows you better than you think. It's kind of sweet, actually. He worries about you."

It is sweet. What is also sweet is she's checking in on you. Mabel, who you have only known for a few hours, is checking in on you. You haven't had anyone other than family check in on you. You lost touch with your military buddies the minute they returned to base. They didn't like you leaving in the middle of a rough time in America. You argued that the hard time in this country will never cease, but the hard time in your family can with your help. Conversations between you and them ended since then.

You swallow hard, the weight of her concern settling in your chest. "I appreciate that, really," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "But it's complicated."

Mabel takes a seat on the sand next to you, her presence warm and inviting. "Complicated how? You can talk to me, you know. I'm a good listener," she smiles, like there's more to her words that you are failing to understand.

You glance sideways at her, searching for any signs of insincerity, but all you find is genuine curiosity and kindness. It's disarming. "I guess... I haven't been in the best place lately. Things have been rough at home," you reach for the end of the towel you're sat on, using it to dry your feet.

Mabel nods, her expression softening. "I can relate. Everyone has their own battles, right? I mean, it's not like my life is perfect either."

"What do you mean?" you ask, genuinely curious. That and to avoid the conversation from being all about you.

"I'm in town for summer break," Mabel begins, scooping some sand into her hand. She carefully pours it between her hands back and forth. "I have my own place–I've had my own place since I was eighteen to get away from my mom but when I'm in town, she tries to reel me back into her shit."

You watch her, intrigued by the way she opens up, revealing pieces of herself like a puzzle you're eager to solve. "That sounds tough. What kind of stuff? If you don't mind me asking."

Mabel pauses, her gaze fixed on the horizon, where the sun is slowly dipping into the ocean. "Just...stupid stuff." She answers, and you decide not to ask for elaboration. If she wanted to share, she would have. "She has this way of making everything about her. I love her, but it's draining, you know? It feels like I'm always trying to help her when I really need to focus on myself."

You nod, understanding all too well the pressure that comes from familial obligations. "Yeah, I get that. It's hard to balance everything."

"Exactly," she says, turning to you with a spark of understanding in her eyes. "And then there's school, and trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. I mean, it took a while for me to even make the decision to apply to college. It can feel overwhelming."

You nod, remaining quiet, feeling the connection deepening.

Mabel sighs, running her fingers through the sand as if it could somehow sift away her thoughts. "I guess I just feel stuck sometimes, like no matter how far I go or what I accomplish, I'm still tethered to this place. To her. To the people."

You lean back on your hands, looking up at the sky as it shifts into twilight, stars beginning to peek through. You look at her, really look at her. You hadn't noticed it before, but she has more freckles than you previously thought. The denim shorts she has on and the soft, oversized sweater she's wearing make her seem even more at ease in this moment, despite the heaviness of her words. There's something about the way the fading light catches her freckles, her hair slightly tousled by the breeze, that makes you realize just how much she's been carrying. She looks...ethereal.

And you've never even used that word before.

"Where do you go?" You ask her, and she looks at you in silent question. "College, I mean. You said you're in town for summer break so that must mean you go to college out of state."

Mabel nods. "UMass. I used to go to Dartmouth but then I decided to aim for Amherst–and I got in." She answers, picking at a loose fabric on her shorts. Like she's embarrassed with what she says next. "Don't ask what I'm studying, though because I don't even know yet."

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "I wasn't going to ask. Honestly, when I first went, I had no idea what I wanted to study," you admit it, sitting up, dusting the sand off your hands. "Dropped out my second semester, though," you lift your hand to graze the necklace around your neck.

Mabel raises a brow. "Dropped out? What happened?"

"Got my heart broken, for starters," you begin, sighing as you remember the months before you joined the army. You miss the frown on Mabel's lips at your words, continuing. "And it was...all too easy. The classes and the homework, I mean. So, my grandfather, who had told me stories of his time in the Navy, said if education wasn't what I wanted to pursue, then to use the knowledge I had for something else."

Mabel remains quiet, allowing you to continue.

"I have a photographic memory," you confess, rubbing the pendant around your neck, feeling its familiar weight. You never shared that with anyone. Not even your ex. "It's been helpful in some ways, in high school when I learned how to really use it to my advantage," you finish, feeling a strange sense of vulnerability wash over you. "But after a while, it didn't feel like enough. Nothing really did."

Mabel tilts her head slightly, her eyes full of curiosity and something else—something softer. "That's a lot to carry," she says gently. "And I'm guessing the army helped distract you from all of that."

"Until it didn't," you shrug, recalling the times you returned home during leave, only to be greeted with indifference. No welcome party, no one even at the airport. You took a cab, and when you walked through the front door, your parents barely acknowledged your presence—like you hadn't just been in a war zone. Your sister, she wasn't any different.

"My parents didn't want me to join," you continue, sifting through the sand with your left hand. "Even shut out my grandpa because he managed to convince me. I had to hear from my captain that my grandfather passed–not from my family."

Mabel's expression hardens, a flicker of anger crossing her face. "That's fucked up," you glance at her at her firm tone, now aware of her demeanor. "I can't imagine how that felt; to find out like that."

You shrug, trying to downplay the weight of it. "I mean, it was what it was. I didn't expect much from them by that point anyway." The words feel hollow even as they leave your mouth, but it's easier to say that than to dwell on the hurt.

Mabel shakes her head, disbelief clear on her face. "Still... that's not something you should've had to go through alone. Your family's supposed to be there for you, especially with something like that."

You glance at her, surprised by the fire in her voice. There's a toughness in Mabel that matches the soft vulnerability she's shown tonight, and it intrigues you. She's been through her own battles, you can tell, and that makes her empathy feel real, not just empty words.

"Family's complicated," you murmur. "Sometimes, they're the ones who mess you up the most."

Mabel clenches her jaw, as if biting back a reply that hits too close to home. She exhales, shaking her head. "Yeah. But that doesn't make it okay. People think they can just push you around, try to control your life, and when you break away, they punish you for it."

Her words hang heavy between you two, the unspoken experiences she's not ready to share yet clear in her eyes. You look out at the horizon, the sky now dark, with only the faintest hint of twilight left.

The sun has fully hidden behind the horizon, the moon up in the sky with its toenail shape. You feel like a kid staring at it because with the discussion of your family, you vividly remember having trips to the beach with them and sitting here until the moon is in the sky.

That was when times were easy. You were innocent to everything going on in the world, in your family.

"I feel like this town only has pain," you find yourself saying, a flash of the dented "Welcome to Newbedford" sign coming to mind, the one you always passed when returning home. It seemed fitting, like the town itself was as broken as the people in it.

Mabel's gaze shifts to the moon, her expression softening just slightly. "Yeah." Her voice is low, almost a whisper. "Sometimes it feels like no matter where you go, the weight of this place follows you."

You glance at her, wondering just how much of herself she's trying to escape. She's resilient, strong-willed, but you can see now that there's a part of her tethered to this place just like you.

"It's like we're both trying to run from something," you say, not fully expecting her to respond.

Mabel nods slowly, as if she's been thinking the same thing. "But maybe... maybe we don't have to do it alone."

Her words hit you harder than you expected. For the first time in a long while, you feel understood, and in this small, fleeting moment, it's enough.

You hum, wiggling your toes and watch the dry sand fall off. You look at her and see it in her eyes, the pity in her eyes. She spoke with Rudy about more than just your trips to the beach and you know it.

"I'm a bad influence, Mabel," you say, shrugging to hide the hurt of how true the words are. "I'm a bad sister, bad daughter and I'll be a bad friend. Your best bet is to stay away. You look like you have it all figured out, or doing a good job of having it figured out. You shouldn't...waste your time on me. I'd just drag you into my mess, which is...dirty, for a lack of better word."

Mabel's expression shifts, a mix of surprise and concern. She leans closer, her voice firm yet gentle. "You don't get to decide how I handle my life or who I spend my time with. I see you trying, even if you don't."

You're stunned by how harsh her tone is. It's like this is a revelation for her—a breaking point where she's finally willing to stand her ground. You can't remember the last time someone pushed back against your self-deprecation like this, and it catches you off guard.

You look away, the weight of her words pressing against you. "I don't want to ruin your summer or make things worse for you. You deserve better than what I can offer."

"Maybe I don't want 'better,'" she shoots back, her tone almost teasing, though her eyes remain serious. You crack a small smile, the hint of a smile on her lips making you crack slightly. "Maybe I want real, and real is messy. We all have our battles. It doesn't make you a bad person; it makes you human."

You shake your head, feeling the ache of her honesty. "You don't know what you're getting into. I'm tangled up in things I can't just walk away from."

Or rather, don't want to, because you're scared of the consequences.

You want to tell her about your dad, how he ruined your family with his death. But it's not in you; because he may have been a stupid dumbass but he still raised you, taught you things you find valuable.

"I can't just let you in on all of that. It feels unfair to unload it on you when you have your own life to navigate," you admit, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of the truth you're holding back.

Mabel watches you intently, her expression softening. "You think I haven't been where you are? I've dealt with my share of darkness. I get it. I really do."

There's a silence that envelopes you both, and you notice her scoot over to brush her shoulder against yours.

"People deserve a chance to prove they are capable of more than what they are expected of," she whispers.

You shake your head, still defiant to this.

"Mabel, you don't even know me," you whisper, a whisk of wind blowing the silence away with your words.

Her gaze doesn't waver. "That's true, but I want to," she says, sighing quietly. "I've been in college for two semesters now and I feel like I've learned a thing or two about people. How to read them and how to understand the layers beneath the surface." She shifts closer, her shoulder brushing against yours once again as she continues, "You're not just a collection of mistakes or past choices. You're a person with history and dreams and everything in between."

You look at her, surprised by the depth of her insight. "Psychology," you say, raising a brow. She arches one back at you. "I remember reading something like that in my intro to psych class."

Mabel hums. "Photographic memory," she remembers and you can only nod. "Look, you're the girl who jumped into the ocean for some stranger's bag," she continues, her tone lightening with a hint of amusement. "That says something about your character."

You chuckle softly, brushing off her compliment. "It was just a bag. I couldn't let it drown."

"But it wasn't just a bag to me," Mabel insists, her voice firm yet playful. "It was my favorite bag! You saved it, and that speaks volumes. You're willing to go out of your way for others, even when you're struggling yourself."

You take a moment to absorb her words, the weight of them sinking in. You wrap your arms around your knees, the feeling to go back for a swim surfacing. You eye the waves, the darkness over them with the shimmer of the moon on the surface.

"Charlie didn't even jump in," Mabel says, bringing you out of your stupor. "And he's been trying to nonchalantly get us back together."

You whip your head to look at her. By your look, she laughs, nodding as she understands your silence.

"We used to date," Mabel shrugs, and you can't help but wonder what the idiot did to lose her. "We tried the long distance thing while he was here and I was in UMass–didn't work. I was too focused on wanting to get out, leave to never come back and he–well, he gave up a scholarship to stay in town with his brother to fish."

You quirk a brow, both impressed and bewildered by Charlie's decision. You didn't take the guy for someone to give up a scholarship. You actually saw him more as a fisherman than an Ivy League guy. Looks can be deceiving, you think.

"Wow, that's a big sacrifice," you say, trying to wrap your head around it. "I guess that explains why he's still here."

Mabel nods, her expression shifting slightly. "Yeah, he's a good guy, but... sometimes good isn't enough, you know? We just weren't on the same page. I needed to chase my dreams, and he was stuck here–or rather, choose this place over..."

You can hear it in her voice, see it on her face. He hurt her. He chose this place over her. The breakup may appear amicable but it hurt Mabel more than she cares to admit.

"I don't know," she admits, looking out at the ocean. "It's complicated. Part of me wants to see what's out there, but another part of me feels rooted here. It's a tug-of-war."

"Sounds familiar," you murmur, thinking about your own life and the choices you've made.

You feel sticky, icky even. The need for a swim is strong again, so you stand, surprising the girl beside you.

"I have a spare change of clothes," you start, stretching your back and cracking your neck. You're too lazy to stretch anymore so you extend your hand, the corner of your mouth tilting up into a small half smile. "Wanna go for a swim?"

Mabel stares up at you, her gaze flicking between your hand and your face, weighing the invitation. You can see the hesitation in her eyes, but there's also a spark of excitement.

"Are you serious?" she asks, her tone a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "You actually want to swim at night?"

"Why not?" you reply, a teasing grin spreading across your face. "The ocean is right there, and it's just us. Plus, it'll help wash away all the heavy stuff we've been talking about."

Mabel bites her lip, considering. You can tell she's torn between the comfort of staying on the beach and the thrill of diving into the unknown. Finally, she glances at the dark water, the moonlight dancing on its surface, and takes a deep breath.

She says something under her breath, you strain to hear it. You shake your head and kneel to ask her to repeat herself.

"I don't know how to swim."

You purse your lips, a laugh threatening to escape your lips. But the tint of color on her cheeks is noticeable thanks to the moon's light. So you inhale a breath and shrug.

A wave of empathy washes over you. "That's okay. We can just splash around in the shallow part, or I can help you if you want to go deeper."

She looks at you, like she's trying to read more into what you're saying or offering. You aren't sure how long it is you two just stare at each other; you do know you can spend however long she wants like this, because it feels right.

But then,

"Okay," she says, her voice steady now, determination shining through. She takes your hand, her grip surprisingly firm as she stands up beside you.

You turn your gaze back to the ocean, pretending to focus on the gentle lapping of the waves, though your heart races at the sight of her shedding layers. The cool night air contrasts with the warmth radiating from her skin, and you can't help but steal glances at her as she rolls her sweater up and over her head, revealing a simple tank top beneath.

As you reach the water's edge, the coolness envelops your feet, sending a shiver up your spine. You turn to Mabel, who's already stepping in, her laughter mingling with the sound of the crashing waves.

"How far out have you gone?" Mabel asks as you guys continue into the water, the waves hitting your thighs now.

You shrug, unsure of the furthest distance you've gone out. You never measure or pay attention. You usually pick your head up from under the water when you're out of breath, once you've caught your breath you go back to the shore then repeat the process. You once caught yourself floating on your back, you fell asleep and somehow wound up on the other end of the shoreline.

"Far enough to lose track of time," you reply with a grin, recalling that day you ended up at the other end of the beach. "I actually fell asleep once, just floating. Woke up way down the shoreline. Scared the hell out of me when I realized where I was."

Mabel's eyes widen in surprise. "You fell asleep? While floating in the ocean?"

You nod, feeling the cool waves brush against your legs. "It's peaceful out there, especially when you're alone with the water. Everything just... fades away."

She seems intrigued by your story, a curious gleam in her eyes. "That sounds terrifying and relaxing at the same time."

You laugh softly. "Yeah, it kinda is. But it's also freeing. It's like the ocean holds you up, lets you forget about everything weighing you down."

Mabel's gaze shifts to the dark horizon, her expression thoughtful. "I guess I could use a little of that," she murmurs, the weight of her own thoughts evident in her voice.

You watch her, as she dares to wander just a few inches ahead without you. She puts her hands in the water and lets a wave hit her arms. It's this scene before you, seeing her like this, that makes you decide.

"I can teach you," you speak up, earning her attention. "How to swim. I can teach you," you clarify.

Mabel nods, appearing grateful for the offer. "I'd like that," she laughs gently, a slightly bigger wave hitting her square in the face. She spits water out and stands straight, frowning at your chuckle. "Why didn't you warn me?"

You grin, unable to suppress your laughter as you watch her wipe the water from her face. "Hey, I thought you saw it coming!" you tease, shrugging innocently. "Besides, it's all part of the experience, right?"

Mabel rolls her eyes, but there's a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Sure, if getting slapped in the face by a wave is part of the lesson."

"Lesson one," you say, wading closer to her, "the ocean's unpredictable. You gotta stay on your toes. Literally."

She mimics you, lifting her toes just above the sand, her playful energy returning. "Got it. Stay on my toes and avoid surprise attacks from waves."

You nod in approval. "Exactly. Now, come on. Let's start with floating. It's the easiest way to feel like you're one with the water."

Mabel looks at you, unsure, but the trust is there. "Alright," she says, "show me how it's done."

You guide her a bit further into the water, positioning yourself beside her. The moonlight reflects off the waves, and for a moment, it feels like it's just the two of you in the world. "Just lean back," you tell her softly. "I'll hold you up at first. Let the water do the rest."

She hesitates but then leans back into your hands, her body tense as she tries to relax. "You got me?" she asks, her voice a little shaky.

"I've got you," you assure her, your grip steady. "Now just...relax."

She struggles to actually relax. You laugh and grab her hands, softly calling her name.

"Mabel, you gotta relax," you say, and she sighs, the tension in her body more obvious than before. "Trust me. You trust me, right?"

There's no moment of hesitation.

Mabel takes a deep breath, her eyes searching yours in the moonlight. "I do," she says quietly, the sincerity of her words cutting through the gentle crash of the waves. She exhales, and you feel her start to let go, her body slowly surrendering to the water.

As she floats, the tension fades, leaving only the sound of the ocean and the steady rhythm of your breath. You release her gently, your hands hovering just beneath, ready to catch her if she falters. But she doesn't.

For a moment, it's perfect—just the two of you, suspended in the vastness of the ocean, under the stars.

You smile to yourself, feeling the weight of the past few days lift ever so slightly, as if the sea itself is helping to carry it.

And maybe, just maybe, you think, this is what it feels like to let someone in.

Once the first lesson is done, you both return to your towel. You may have had extra clothes but you didn't have an extra towel. So you bundle up together, wrapping the towel over your shoulders, squishing together under it.

"You're not such a bad influence after all," Mabel says, her head falling onto your shoulder. You can't control the smile that forms on your lips, looking down at her in silence.

The waves lap, and you're grateful for your photographic memory; having this moment etched into your brain forever.

~~~~

taglist: @nwestra

[rwrbficrecs]

Thanks for all the love on the recent Readers' Choice list ✨ The May faves are a little late but hope you all enjoy these recs 💕

you turned a moment (into forever) by viciouslyqueer (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Think of the fluffiest bedsharing fic you've ever read and combine it with a college roommates AU, and you have this fic! I can't stress enough just how soft this fic is, this is the perfect fic for if you need a quick pick-me-up!

running through my mind all day by allthelovesaved (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry rarely, if ever, jogs. It's not something that interests him. That is until he stumbles upon Alex's TikTok profile (thanks, Pez!!). Alex, a passionate runner, shares his knowledge in a captivating way. Coincidentally, he's also the brother of Henry's colleague June, who convinces him to join their "group running thing"... This sweet, sweet story is fluffy and funny, very soft and a little silly (says the author), and it just made me very, very happy.

Wit and Wisdom by @pridepages (book-verse)

@heysweetheart-writes: A window into the future of "Little Matters" my absolute favorite story. Im so in love with this family and happy to see the woman Cat has become and how much of Alex she carries with her. I cried and laughed and EJ left me wanting more of them as usual. If you haven't read Little Matters yet, what are you doing with your life?? Haha

hymns down your sides by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@na-dineee: One of my favourite authors delivers yet again! Henry, a refined boyband veteran in his mid-30s, meets wild, lately kind of self-destructive boyband star Alex. Henry can't probably save him, but maybe he can give him a push in the right direction? This story put me through the emotional wringer. So many feelings, so much hurt, and the chemistry - absolutely gripping!

the poem you make of me by @omgcmere (book-verse)

@suseagull04: The riches found within this fic know no bounds! It's a writer Henry AU that maintains a lot of the same themes as the book (which it coveys just as well), but it adds another layer of heart with the fact that in this verse, Henry is not just a writer, but a poet.

Savasana by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Lawyer Alex has hit a low point in his career. The situation is absolutely not pretty, and understandably, Alex is skeptical about whether yoga can fix it, as June suggests. Can yoga instructor Henry straighten things out for Alex? - Alex pulls one Alex after another - it gave me whiplash in the best possible way! The story is very touching and sweet, also absolutely hilarious at the same time !! So fun to read !!

Henry Fox, All-American Hero by @tintagel-or-cockleshells (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is an AU of a book I loved in middle school, so not only did it give me so much nostalgia, but it has all the quirkiness of RWRB too! Alex in this is so mischievous and sweet, and I love it!

A Wretched Beginning by @royalasstronaut (book-verse)

@dot524: This was a fun romp — forbidden relationship, college/academic AU, tension and angst, and loads of longing. Henry is Alex’s TA and um… things happen. Oh, and they may also be connected in other mysterious ways.

Pleasant Melody by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: Love at first sight that feels magical in otherworldly way is one of my favourite kinds of love stories. And this fic is a spectacular example! Henry is a pirate, Alex is a very special siren, they shouldn't make sense but they do. The longing is excellent and I would gladly read ten more fics based on the same concept.

Meant to Be Yours by @affectionatelyrs & @happiness-of-the-pursuit (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: Definitely one of the most unhinged fics I've read in this fandom. (Warning: proceed with caution!) Alex loves Henry, Henry doesn't know Alex exists. Alex's dream is of course to meet Henry and his attempts to do so are... worrying. Second-hand embarrassment hits hard, highly recommend!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[blueeofsl]

Page 17. We see that Donnie is just laughing at the joke now. It might be because it’s right after Leo sobbing for a while and then he just pulls that joke out of nowhere, or the fact that Donnie is exhausted. Or maybe, Donnie just really missed his stupid jokes

But it relaxes Donnie out of whatever caffeine or adrenaline high he’s been in for so long, and he passes out on Leo. Literally laughs himself to sleep.

However for Leo, this was probably really worrying. Because Donnie was active and talking to him and suddenly he’s passed out. (Also is it just me or does it look like Leo’s stump is sorta holding Donnie’s head up?)

~~~~~

In Page 18, Leo gently lays Donnie down on the bed he had woken up from. Staring at Donnie the whole way through with a sort of attentiveness to any sort of discomfort/pain.

He’d probably noticed the eyebags under Donnies eyes too.

In the second panel, Leo’s worry shows through again and seems to need to take a breath before checking Donnie’s pulse in panel three.

The fact that Donnie lets this happen so willingly (even when passed out. I would guess that over the years in the apocalypse, the turtles have learned a way to protect themselves even in their sleep.) shows that he is fully out and probably wont wake up for a while.

~~~~~

In page 19, notice how there wasn’t just one panel being used to show Leo focusing on Donnie’s pulse, but two. We can tell by Leo’s facial expression that he’s still having doubts of seeing Donnie alive again.

Still doubting that things are real in the third panel as he goes to check his own pulse. His own pulse being much quicker than Donnies. This could be because of the fact that Donnie’s asleep while Leo is awake. Or it could be the fact that Leo is very alert now that he’s alone.

In the last panel, Leo finally lets himself say what he’s thinking at the moment “what the fuck”. I don’t think ive ever read those words with so much emotion behind them because yes. Leo is just… so confused on how he got here. He has no clue that they’re in the present timeline, where Donnie can resurrect people. He has no idea if there are other people out there other than him and Donnie. He doesn’t even know that the sky is now free of krang and is blue instead of the apocalyptic red.

The last panel also shows us that Leo is also finally starting to take note of his surroundings, past just trying to reach for Donnie.

~~~~~

Some other theories/notes; I’m guessing that Leo is going to need a lot of guidance/reassurance of the fact that things are real and that he can relax. Like Casey, he probably wont be a fan of the big crowds in NYC and would rather stay hidden.

I’m also guessing that the family will have some sort of “talk” about what has happened overall. The war, the people they’ve lost, everything. Maybe Cass wont add this in, but I think Mikey will try to have everyone at least address the fact that not only are they survivors, but they are also veterans from a long, long war.

~~~~~~~~~~

Phew… that was a lot of writing! Loved checking through all 59 panels and finding the little details/ focusing on the emotion Cass was trying to portray there.

Would like to thank @somerandomdudelmao for the comics and also @tapakah0 and @ryanthel0ser for being wonderful motivators hehe

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3 (here)

[the-whispers-of-death]

I read the veteran one with Ghost and I am in LOVE!!! I wanna ask for more veteran male reader and Ghost bcs just hwrkemendksdndn love it!! If you dont wanna do it its fine and feel free to ignore this if you want but just so you know I LOVE THE WAY YOU WROTE IT!!!!

Here's the first part.

Imagine you and Veteran!Ghost on your first date. (It's important to note that he foregoes his mask/balaclava since you two are going out for dinner.)

You know what it's like to be overwhelmed when in the presence of so many civilians, so you take him out to a restaurant that is a small diner that only a few people know about.

You're the perfect gentleman, gently guiding Ghost to a booth with your hand resting on the small of his back. You pull out his chair and push it in when he's settled in said chair.

While you're both looking at the menu, Ghost can't help but glance up at you every now and then.

His eyes take in your face, his lips twitching upwards at the sight of your eyebrows furrowed as you decide what to order. Your skin is wrinkled, but not too wrinkled, and he loves your crow's feet the best. He loves how they're a symbol of your age, of how much you've laughed and smiled during your lifetime.

Ghost is hardened from his years in the military, scarred physically and emotionally from war. And yet here you are, a man who also has been in the military, for even longer than Ghost has, but you're still kind. You've come out of war and healed from it.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask, glancing up at Ghost and seeing him staring at you. But you don't seem off-put by his staring, instead a smile works its way onto your face. "Do you know what you want to order?"

Ghost nods despite himself, glancing back down at the menu and choosing something random. "Yes, I know what I want." His words are laced with double meaning, but he then clears his throat. "Are you ready to order?"

You nod and wave the waitress over, both of you ordering your food. Once the waitress is gone, you look back at Ghost. You eye him for a bit before taking a leap of faith, reaching over the table and touching his hand lightly, giving him a choice to pull away or to embrace the gesture of affection.

Your smile widens when he intertwines your fingers together, holding your hand. "How are you feeling? This place isn't too loud for you, right?" you ask.

"It's not too loud," Ghost replies, his heart melting at how considerate you are of him. God, he doesn't know what he did to manage to get you to be on a date with him. "I want to know more about you, something no one in the support group knows."

You chuckle at that and tell him about your family. You two exchange stories of happy memories until the food comes and your conversation continues in between bites of food.

When the date comes to an end, you pay for the food, despite Ghost's protests.

"Nonsense, it's only fair that I should pay," you say after taking the bill and placing your card in the check-holder. You give the check-holder to the waitress, watching her leave to charge your card before focusing on Ghost again. "I'm the one who brought you to this place, so I'm the one who should pay."

"You're old-fashioned," Ghost teases, getting up from his seat once the waitress comes back with your card.

You huff in playful anger at his words, standing up as well once your card is back in your wallet. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

With one hand resting on the small of his back again, you lead Ghost outside and to your car. Just to continue your playful banter, you manage to open the passenger door for Ghost before he can.

"After you, my little prince," you say, a cheeky grin on your face.

Ghost's heart skips a beat at the petname, a blush working its way onto his face and neck. He can't deny the way the petname coming from you makes him want to melt.

He clears his throat and gets into the car, his heart fluttering when you close the door behind him.

The ride back to Ghost's flat is a short one, unfortunately. Ghost finds himself not wanting this night to end as he goes to the entrance of his apartment complex, you having walked him there.

He looks back at you as he stops short in front of the entrance, his mouth dry. "Would you come up with me to my flat if I asked?" he asks, his eyes on yours and his heart pounding in his chest.

A soft smile appears on your lips and you gently lift your hand, cupping his cheek. "As tempting as that sounds," you say, relishing the way Ghost leans into your touch, "I'm a gentleman. It'd be rude of me to go up to your flat on the first date."

With those words, you lean in, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek before pulling away and letting your hand fall. Ghost takes the hint, nodding and turning to walk inside the apartment complex.

"Old-fashioned," he playfully grumbles, the words floating to your ears via the slight breeze.

Your laugh in return is loud.

"My age is part of why you like me!" you call out to him just as he enters the apartment complex.

Ghost can't seem to be able to deny it.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (Check the rules in "Rules for Requesting NSFW" before requesting.)