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ruvviks · 5 months ago

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HIIIIIIII BONES what faction(s) does tiberius join? and which companions is he closest with? :]

HIII EZRA THANK YOU SO MUCH :] this got insanely long because i have. so much to say about this game it's unreal i'm very sorry in advance. but hope you enjoy ^_^

so in my canon of fallout 4, there's a couple of things different from the game because i personally don't think of tiberius as a leader in any sort of way, mainly because he's like. 23 years old. that's a literal baby. he was only born yesterday fresh out of the freezer

so!! that means that the minutemen are already very much established in the commonwealth again when he emerges from the vault, and there's a lot of sprawling settlements to be found in places where you'd otherwise have to build them yourself in game; so sanctuary isn't abandoned at all, and tiberius returns to his sister's home with a special surprise waiting for him (every other house in the neighborhood is now home to a bunch of strangers centuries into the future! welcome home boy!)

that said, tiberius DOES end up sort of joining the minutemen?? but not officially. he meets preston in sanctuary who helps him get settled in in this new and strange world and in return to show his gratitude tiberius helps out wherever and whenever he can, but considering the path of revenge he's about to go on he doesn't really consider himself good enough of a person to like. fully be part of it if that makes sense?? especially since the minutemen aim for as much peaceful resolution of things as possible, and he is not like that :(

tiberius massively dislikes diamond city, and feels a lot more at home in goodneighbor. he does some mercenary work there for a while and that's also how he ends up with the railroad, which he Does officially join :] a bunch of my other fallout ocs are also railroad agents; max, who's also general of the minutemen (don't ask how she finds the time to juggle all these different jobs she doesn't know it herself either); magnus, who's a goodneighbor guard; and nikolai, an ex-raider who now does a bunch of stealth operations for the railroad. tiberius takes his job as agent very seriously and through his new connections becomes more involved with the minutemen as well, now that he knows the two work together to give escaped synths a new and safe home and such :]

he does NOT join the brotherhood of steel. he hates them so fucking much it's unreal. to him they're literally just invading the commonwealth with the way they're terrorizing settlements and forcibly establishing their own outposts and whatnot and it causes a lot of chaos everywhere which is NOT ideal at all. max is handling most of the situation but she's clearly under a lot of pressure and it makes tiberius want to blow some shit up. which he eventually does when everything has escalated so far that there's not really another way to deal with it anymore

he only joins the institute to infiltrate them for the railroad, and he is NOT having a good time during it. he dislikes shaun (his nephew, not his son!) so fucking much but there's nothing he can do about it. i'm trying to make the institute a bit more interesting but it's still a work in progress because well the game leaves a lot to be desired on that front to me personally but either way, the whole place makes him super paranoid and he quickly realizes that it's a LOT bigger than what it's making itself out to be. the area he's allowed to be in seems just a little bit too well-organized and streamlined as if it's all pre-programmed and he constantly feels like he's being watched. which he is! because he ends up finding proof of a lot more levels that go much deeper into the ground and while a lot of them seem to be abandoned, he does end up finding evidence that there's more people holed up Somewhere. and they're watching everything that's happening in the area of the institute he's allowed to be in. it's all part of something bigger and he does NOT like that shit

lastly, tiberius ends up with the children of atom :] kind of against his will?? but also he's not really being forced to stay so it's kind of a gray area really. basically what happened is that he went to the glowing sea, ended up passing out because he went by himself like the stubborn mf he is and the children of atom take them to their crater to nurse him back to health but also give him like. some sort of special radiation cocktail of some sort which ends up making him a bit of a freak. much more resilient, much more absent as well, a bit faster than he used to be. he's basically their chosen one because i feel like out of all factions it'd make most sense for the children of atom to be weirdly obsessed with him like he's a perfectly preserved human from before the war. that IS kinda fascinating

either way tiberius doesn't really mind being part of them all that much because it puts him in like a negotiator position if that makes sense?? the other factions all have their other touching points where he isn't all that needed to create connections and stuff but having this extra connection with the children of atom who are mostly feared by the rest of the commonwealth helps a LOT with keeping peace and all that, so it's beneficial for all parties involved because it also means that tiberius can just freely enter any of their outposts and he can rely on them if he needs them for anything :] the children of atom are a lot more willing to assist him with something that may be a bit shady than the minutemen or railroad would basically so it's a good backup to have LMAO

as for companions, tiberius is closest with preston 100% :] when he emerged from the vault, preston was the first person who talked to him and didn't treat him as a possible threat, and he helped him get settled in which tiberius will always be grateful for because he was so so scared. and preston made everything a little bit easier. he's very caring and patient and matches tiberius' funnyman energy surprisingly well when they're joking around, which would all remind tiberius a lot of his sister stella. preston Would in fact be like a brother to him :]

he enjoys hanging out with piper and nick, but only sparingly so since those two just love to investigate stuff and a lot of their time hanging out ends up turning into business of some sort and tiberius does NOT have the detective's spirit! he likes being clueless. he does not always need to know everything. he does like tagging along but sometimes he just wants to SIT and have a beer or something

which, naturally so, makes hancock better company for him. tiberius did a couple of gigs for him personally (and got to know him much more intimately during a wild night with both him and magnus but we don't talk about that) and he likes to stop by goodneighbor regularly for a drink and to talk about shit that's been going on lately. since magnus and hancock are together, magnus is there a lot as well but tiberius sees him a lot more regularly at the railroad too :]

that being said, the railroad is definitely tiberius' main hub for hanging out with people he loves the gang SO much. his best friends there would be nikolai, glory (she's alive yes obviously), deacon, and tinker tom :] and also max but tiberius sees her a LOT more at the castle since that's by the end of the in-game events also a place he can be found at a lot. he doesn't take a lot of minutemen jobs but he does help out on location with whatever they need, plus the castle is a huge and busy marketplace which would be super fun to visit (especially at night) so he just likes hanging out there in general! that's also where he hangs out with cait and roxy (max' wife) whenever he gets the opportunity

tiberius' relationship with x6-88 is. strained. on a surface level he likes the guy, but his loyalty to the institute definitely gets in the way of their friendship a lot at first. i haven't entirely figured out yet how to like, get x6-88 on tiberius' side in a satisfying way that doesn't feel out of character for him?? but that's basically what i'm aiming for, because the two DO spend a lot of time together away from the institute itself which would give tiberius a lot of opportunities to show x6 what the commonwealth is really like. and what the institute's reputation is and all that. and with x6 getting attached to tiberius during all of that he WILL be forced to pick a side at the end of it all. and i personally don't think he would side against tiberius after spending all that time building up an actual friendship for the first time in his life

surprisingly enough, tiberius and maccready did NOT!!! get along well at first AT ALL. when tiberius was taking gigs in goodneighbor he was unbeknownst to him stealing away a lot of mac's clientele so naturally mac has very one-sided beef with him. especially because both of them are like. babies. i can't remember maccready's exact age but that's a baby. and tiberius is one too. and they're both competitive and kinda stupid so when they first "officially" meet there's this insane tension between the two of them and every conversation they have is just a pissing contest. they've been kicked out of goodneighbor together on at least one occasion because of their near screaming competitions

(at some point after the battle of bunker hill and tiberius has temporarily broken ties with the institute because shaun's attitude pissed him the fuck off he goes to goodneighbor with his friends and after a drink or two too many he agrees to a bet maccready makes with him about killing elder maxson. tiberius succeeds by knocking out a brotherhood pilot and pretending to be the pilot instead, sort of successfully flying a vertibird up to the prydwen, somehow knocking out a guy in full power armor to then steal said guy's power armor, killing elder maxson (who by then has committed enough war crimes including but not limited to laughing max in the face when she tried to talk to him about a possible collaboration in hopes to keep the peace in the commonwealth) with a pipe pistol, and then jumping down(!!!!!!!!!) in the power armor to make his escape by walking over the bottom of the ocean on the shoreline in the power armor. he brought the guy's coat and dogtags with him as proof. maccready was turned on and angry about it)

but after traveling together for a while, tiberius and maccready learn they have a lot more in common than they initially thought and they grow closer over time :] i adjusted mac's story as well by making lucy his older sister rather than his wife (HE'S A BABY. HE DOESN'T NEED A WIFE AND A CHILD IN THIS ECONOMY) and duncan his nephew, so it's still a direct parallel to tiberius' story except lucy is still alive but missing, whereas stella is in fact very much dead. at first it makes tiberius feel frustrated and upset in a very selfish way, but it helps him with like, allowing himself to grieve for the first time since he exited the vault which by then is a LONG time ago, and then it also helps him with moving on from it rather than staying stuck in the past. helping mac with curing duncan and finding lucy helps the both of them and after all that they end up getting together :]

SO YEAH. very bumpy road for tiberius all in all and he makes connections in a bunch of different places, but he's always just a gear in the machine rather than the one operating the machine if that makes sense :] he feels a lot more at ease when he can actually make a difference at his own pace rather than having everyone look up to him constantly, the closest he got to that was when he was the one to infiltrate the institute and he has NEVER been that stressed before in his life. he makes it out alive and relatively unharmed but good lord. he's never doing that shit ever again

#asks #elgaravel #ask:tiberius #oc asks #this got so long i'm so sorry but i can never just stay on topic i always have more things to say #i loveeee thinking about fallout 4 though. i love adjusting things to suit my story better #things for the institute are still cooking in my brain but i do like to keep things a bit mysterious and vague on purpose #because the whole thing is that tiberius does NOT know what's actually going on!! and it makes everything so much more tense #and to keep it a mystery even after he's blown up the institute. or at least what he thinks is the institute. i think that adds something #to the story that revealing all secrets at the end would kinda take away. because this keeps that paranoia in there if that makes sense #even after being destroyed the institute continues to make people feel on edge and i LIKE that shit. haunting the narrative and all #like yes it's been destroyed but if it was bigger than what it seemed to be then IS it really all destroyed #are there more locations. was this all just an experiment. does vault-tec have more to do with it. who knows! not tiberius!#he's just a guy!!! and that is Very important to me. like in a way yes he IS special he's pre-war and not a ghoul or anything #but also he is not suited for leadership positions. he will step up when he has to when there's no alternative but he would rather not #and just. the children of atom being obsessed with him felt right to me i can't explain that. like that just Makes Sense

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shomatoriashi · 1 month ago

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01/03/25; 10:00pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when they realize that you’re the true mc from behind the screen ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

notes: this is just my own take on the self aware au! i know other creators who’ve written their own self aware au’s (and have executed them amazingly well!), but i hope that you readers will give my story a chance, too ♡

you never understood the hype that surrounded the game known as love and deepspace-

however, the moment sylus was announced as the newest love interest for this game-

to say you were mildly interested would have been the greatest understatement of the century. when his trailer was revealed, you swore you felt your knees clash together while basking in his pure, masculine beauty.

and his voice- dear god did it sound like pure silk against your ears!

needless to say, you downloaded lads the moment sylus dropped as the latest love interest. when you made your mc, you did your best to model her after your own appearance to the best of your abilities-

however, it seemed impossible to do.

the mc was just too petite and perfect, something that you could never achieve in real life. yet despite it all, you tried your best to customize her to match your features before starting the game. as you struggled with the missions in the main story, you were essentially grinding until the moment you could unlock sylus's story branch-

and the moment when you accomplished it, you were truly on cloud 9, taking an ungodly amount of screenshots each time sylus was on your phone's screen. you kept interacting with him in game, raising his affinity with you to level 50 in a mere few weeks.

it was embarrassing how much you adored this gorgeous man made up entirely of pixels. you always spent quality time with him, bringing him with you when you worked or had to study for an upcoming exam. each time you would glance at your phone and see his devastatingly handsome features cleaning his gun, you would grin and press a kiss on your screen (directly over his cheek!)

were you shameless for feeling so deeply about a fictional man-

absolutely yes. but did you care?

no.

after kissing sylus for what had to be the thousandth time that day, you would go back to your responsibilities, unaware that sylus could hear you and feel the sensation of your kisses against his cheek.

at first, it was maddening for sylus to realize that everything he's been through was made up by some writers at a company. every tragedy was forced upon him for the sake of a good story-

and he hated it.

he hated how his every word was essentially a script made up by that same company and how he was forced to interact with an mc that was just the same as the rest-

yet the moment he realized he could see you settled behind that woman's avatar-

sylus was intrigued, to say the least.

despite how you looked drastically different from the mc, something about you drew him to you more than the mc ever could. for starters, you were a true, living person who had a personality.

and you just seemed so alive each time sylus saw you. the more time he had spent with you, the more his feelings of curiosity turned into something tangible and real-

making sylus yearn for the day you would recognize him noticing you. he stops cleaning his gun just then, simply keeping his crimson gaze on your form as you wrote in your notebook. the hours continue to pass, yet sylus allows the quality time feature to go on even past the 30 minute mark, not stopping until you were done.

as your eyes go back to your phone, you were ready to quit the session when sylus purposely stops you, "no kiss this time? you wound me, little dove."

he basks in your wide eyed expression and the way your mouth was wide open in a gape, chuckling as you waved your hand over the screen-

and sylus was following your every movement.

"you can see me?"

"i think we've made that abundantly clear just now, little dove." he shakes his head, feeling his world tilt slightly when you pick up your phone.

"y-you just spoke to me, and i- i'm your little dove?" a dreamy expression crosses your features as you kept your gaze on sylus. he gives you a rare, tiny smile while reaffirming his nickname for you with a nod, "of course you are. you have always been my little dove since the moment i laid eyes on you."

a cute sound escapes from your parted lips, and he felt himself being jostled around when you began to spin while holding your phone. with his eyebrows lifted in response, he calls out your name while telling you, "you don't seem to be as panicked as i imagined."

"are you kidding me? i-" you cough and give him a sheepish expression, "i actually love you so much, and despite the weirdness of this all, i'm strangely happy."

your words succeed in making sylus feel warm inside-

and he knew he had to find a way to be with you soon.

zayne has always been aware of your existence, since you were a longtime player of his game and have spent most of your time together with him.

strangely enough, he took pride in having the highest affinity with you-

yet when you obtained any of the other love interest's memories, or spent some time with them-

a wave of jealousy would course through zayne's veins. he knew that he was programmed to always feel happy with whatever man you chose-

but he couldn't bring himself to let you go. after all, zayne knew that he loved you the most out of all of them.

he was the one who held your health and wellbeing above all else (even ignoring his own desires to see you during his quality time sessions with you.)

while working on his laptop at the cafe, he was aware of how late it was and was hoping that you were already safe and sound in bed-

so imagine his surprise when he sees you logging into the game, greeting him with a tired smile on your face as you opened up the quality time menu with him.

"hey zaynie, i know it's late, but i need to get these assignments done just to stay ahead. i couldn't find the time to do them earlier, so that's why i'm here."

admittedly, zayne could feel a shiver of pleasure each time you spoke to him, allowing him to bask in the sound of your voice-

yet more so than that was how concerned he was that you wanted to do your assignments at such an ungodly hour. as you pressed on the quality time session, zayne would immediately cancel it. confusion was etched onto your features, making you try again-

only to have zayne cancel the session once more.

"what the hell is going on?"

unable to hide the fact that he could respond to you (and not wishing to ignore you any longer) zayne takes a chance and speaks to you.

"it's too late for you to be studying. you should be in bed, ready to sleep."

your eyebrows furrow in response to his words, uncertain if this was part of his script (it wasn't). unable to stop, zayne continues to lightly scold you, "humans need at least 8 hours of sleep, and i know that you've barely gotten 5 hours the past few days."

"oh my god, what?!" he watches as you pick up your phone, meeting his gaze as an incredulous expression was seen on your face. "zaynie, are you talking to me?"

zayne was conflicted now, pulling at the collar of his shirt before clearing his throat, wanting to be honest with you, "yes... i am talking to you, and if you cared for me and my feelings at all, you would go to bed and work on your assignments in the morning, once you're fully rested."

it takes you a moment to take this all in.

from zayne meeting your gaze and scolding you because he was concerned about your health-

it honestly felt like such a dream come true.

your features end up breaking out into a kind smile, and zayne could feel a blush creeping up against his cheek when you nuzzle your face closer to your phone, "okay zaynie, i'll go to sleep."

cradling the phone close to your chest, you let out a hum while slowly getting into bed. once you were settled in bed, you held up your phone to see zayne looking back at you. he smiles at you, "good girl, now close your eyes and sleep."

he watches as you purse your lips before asking him, "will you stay with me, zayne?"

smiling at your request, he gives you a nod, "of course. i'm not going anywhere." he watches you once more as you cuddle into your comforter, closing your eyes while setting your phone close to you.

and as your breathing evens out, (turning softer), zayne whispers your name, filled with longing and love for you alone.

you had to be experiencing the worst cold of your life as you were settled in bed with your phone in hand, playing love and deepspace as you did some missions with xavier, your true love interest for the game.

in the middle of your battle, you let out a particularly loud sneeze, wiping the snot away from your nose while blowing into a tissue when a tiny voice was heard saying "bless you."

after blowing your nose, you said 'thank you' in response-

only to do a double take.

who just said bless you?

you take a quick scan around your room, coughing here and there-

only to realize that there was no one in sight.

you hear the voice again, this time saying your name as you realized that it sounded familiar to you. looking back at your phone, you saw xavier had already taken out the enemy and was looking directly at you.

you swallow thickly, your voice shaky when you began to speak,

"xavier?"

"yes."

"you can hear me?"

"i was able to hear you since day 1, and you chose to stick with me." xavier was practically grinning now, appearing smug while folding his arms across his chest.

by now, you were feeling dizzy as you slowly sit up in bed, feeling almost feverish while looking into xavier's gorgeous, true blue eyes. xavier has been aware of your presence this whole time-

and that fact was enough to make a surge of warmth course through you.

"you... you have always been able to see me?" you ask xavier in a shy voice, earning an earnest nod from him, "yes, and..." he trails off while pressing a hand against your screen, "i'm sorry that i'm unable to take care of you when you're feeling so sick."

"n-no! don't worry about it... i'm just happy that you're here... with me."

a sweet smile paints xavier's expression, coupled along with a gentle chuckle. "i'm happy to be with you, too. and i'm happy that you chose me over them."

realizing what xavier meant, you gave him the best smile you could manage while wiping at your nose with a new tissue, "i will always choose you, xavi."

hearing your admission causes a surge of possessiveness to course through xavier's veins. and while you smiled back at him, the philos prince was thinking of ways to forever keep your smiles for himself.

feeling the need to clean your house and do some chores around it, you decide to spend some quality time with rafayel, the hot lemurian you fell in love with ever since you began playing love and deepspace. with his pretty, pouty face on your screen, you began cleaning, moving around your kitchen and living room while wiping down each surface you could see.

you spent a few hours cleaning, with rafayel seeming to sketch during his quality time session with you, which felt odd. usually, after 30 minutes, the game would notify you, asking if you'd like to continue the session as you confirmed it-

yet now, that didn't seem to happen.

you saw no notification-

and rafayel was still sketching on your screen.

with a shrug, you figured the game probably updated and added this new feature, where you didn't have to constantly renew the 30 minutes during your quality time with rafayel. feeling thirsty now, you pick up your phone and head into the kitchen, setting your phone on the counter as you went into the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

"hey princess! where did you go?! i can't see you!"

you nearly dropped your water bottle in response, hearing rafayel's voice coming from your phone. "come on princess, don't leave me hanging, where are you?"

was this a new script?

closing your fridge, you step closer to your phone, seeing rafayel's pout. picking it up, allowing rafayel to finally see you, he was smiling now while winking at you. "there you are, princess! are you done doing all that work?"

words were unable to form as you were left gaping at him, making the artist chuckle while shaking his head, "you look like a goldfish, which is pretty cute! oh, before i forget!"

rafayel pulls back, revealing his sketchbook to you. your heart was felt clenching slightly before racing upon realizing every sketch was about you-

not your mc in game.

the realization of it all had you reeling, with your hands gripping at your counter when you addressed rafayel. "rafe, you can see me?"

"of course i can, always have been able to, princess." he has the audacity to make your heart flutter the moment he gives you another wink. "and let me just say, i've been loving what i've been seeing so far, princess."

by now, you felt like you were on the verge of collapsing, unable to hide your grin as you cling to your phone all while basking in rafayel's flirty and playful words-

yet little did you know, somewhere along the way, rafayel had genuinely fallen head over heels for you, keeping each painting and sculpture he had made of you hidden so that you would never know-

at least, not yet.

end notes: i'm so happy to write a story like this, where all the lads men truly are so META and wish to be with YOU-

and not the mc (⺣◡⺣)♡

this is currently unedited, but i shall make any changes the moment this story is posted!

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

#sylus fluff #zayne fluff #xavier fluff #rafayel fluff #sylus x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #lads x reader #lnds x reader #l&ds x reader #love and deepspace

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notquitecanon · 7 months ago

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Keep talking // Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

Summary: Simon really likes your new sundress AND wants to hear about your day. These things can coexist

Tags: established relationship, pretty domestic, yapper wife x silent husband, sunshine x grumpy kinda??? Whatever tropes the kids are saying these days suggestive but not NSFT, dumbification if you really squint, husband Simon Riley, pg-13 at worst

—

Simon was staring at you. Intensely. Him staring wasn’t exactly a new thing, he was a silent creature by nature. He watched, he listened. Especially to you. He loved listening to you.

You’d barely noticed his intense gaze as you flitted about the kitchen of your shared home, putting away the things you’d bought while you’d been out, all the while chittering on about your day, the people you talked to, the things you’d seen, things you’d bought, things you’d almost bought, things you didn’t buy, what you had for lunch, what you were thinking for dinner… And Simon listened like always, absorbing your presence like a plant absorbs sunlight.

Anyone else would have been cowed under the weight of his stare, but not you. Not only were you used to it, you loved having his attention. Every now and then you’d offer him a sweet smile when you looked to him or press a kiss to his cheek or jaw or wherever you could reach easiest as you’d squeeze past where he was leaning against the kitchen counter, absolutely dwarfing the appliances. His face gave away nothing, it never did so you kept talking- yapping, you’d call it jokingly.

“Anyways, that’s when I told her-“

“New dress, love?”

His interruption cut you off. You set down the purse you were unpacking and looked to him as you trailed off.

“Hm?”

Simon kicked off the counter, closing the short distance. It was then you noticed that his eyes weren’t on your face or eyes or even lips, but instead tracing the line of the strap laying on your shoulder.

“‘aven’t seen that one. Is it new?” His eyes roamed to the skirt where his fingers had caught a sliver of the bow in the back, “Soft.”

You cleared your throat as you turned around to face him, “I got it a few weeks ago, since it’s getting hotter, sun dress season and all, but it might be a little much for running around town…guess you haven’t seen it though-“

You cut yourself off again when you felt the tension in the tied back slack. The snapped your eyes to Simon, realizing he hadn’t dropped the bow’s string as you turned.

“I’d remember this one, lovie.” He was still gazing at the hem line appreciatively, where the delicate pattern you loved so much revealed your thighs.

“Well, then it’s new to you.” Your voice was quieter now that you’d realized the specific intensity in his gaze. Simon grunted in response, his large calloused hands resting at your hips. You could feel the roughness and warmth through the thin summer fabric.

“You were saying?” He reminded you with a slight smirk, knowing he’d derailed your train of thought. Cheeky bastard.

“Oh, uh,” You started again, preoccupied with the little circles he was rubbing on your hips, “I told her that, well, that-“

Simon nodded along to your barely coherent dialogue, as if he was listening to a TED talk. Heat was rising up your chest and neck as the solider kept getting closer until your chests were basically flush and your legs were interlocked, your chatting was only slightly better than babbling but you continued choking through your story. Even when he’d slowly moved you backwards so that you were the one pressed against the counter. You hadn’t realized you stopped once again until his brows raised, “that all?”

“Si-“ You all but whined, sharply gasping when he suddenly and effortlessly lifted you unto the kitchen counter, the stone counter chilling the backs of your thighs. Even sat on the tall counters, you still only came up to his broad chest, “We have your friends coming later-“

“And I cleaned up the yard just like you asked, love. Wearing this dress tonight?” Simon questioned gruffly, brushing a kiss first across the top of your head and then leaning down to dust a trail of kisses down your neck.

“What? Probably- but” you stuttered, the heat of his breath making it hard to track the different tracks of conversation.

“Good, does this come in any other colors?” His questions almost fell on deaf ears as he brushed the straps off your shoulders so he could continue his path down your chest. The hands on your hips had traveled first to your knees and were slowly hiking the hemline of your dress up. He paused when you didn’t answer, cutting those sharp eyes up to yours, squeezing your thigh to get your focus back on him and not just his hands. You hummed in confusion, “colors, love?”

“Oh, uh, a couple I think,” you nodded as the squeeze to your thigh turned to a kneading moving further up, “I wanted to try one, but it was hard to decide-“

Simon was sinking to his knees in front of you, never breaking eye contact, “Keep talking, love. I’m listening.”

Simon was a hard man to say no to, so you kept talking. Jumping from thought to thought as they became fewer and farther between, a hand in his hair to ground yourself as he’d offer questions from between your legs until you could no longer say anything but his name.

___

I wrote this in 20 minutes on an airplane. It’s not proofread nor is it really in character. First time writing for COD but hopefully not the last… we shall see where the hyperfixation takes me

#Simon Riley x reader #CODMW x reader #Simon Ghost Riley x reader #call of duty modern warfare x reader #ghost x reader

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bi-writes · 3 months ago

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ok simon and his mail order bride live rent-free in my head now and, like, what i wanna know is what their anniversaries look like? not just their one year anniversary, but also their fifth or tenth? how does it change as they settle into that deep comfortability that comes with being with someone a long time? -391780

this piece i still consider canon mail-order bride, but i see it almost as an extra than a continuation of the current story since it is very much in the future of that timeline. <3

mail-order bride

it's difficult to see the potential of something so mangled. sometimes things are so worn out and so used that they don't reflect what their purpose was. instead of function, they see flaw. instead of value, they see waste.

sometimes you wonder if that's what they saw in you. sometimes you wonder if that's why you were given to him.

that's what they made him. simon was a tortured dog they let loose. they saw value, but only what was left, and perhaps they thought something like you might help them squeeze just that little bit more out of him. one more year. one more op.

the sunlight wakes you up. you forgot to pull the blinds, but when you see simon sleeping peacefully next to you, it's worth it to be up so early. you know as soon as you move, he will wake, so you keep still for just a few more minutes.

today marks ten. he doesn't look much older. he seems to have stopped aging ever since you asked him to put in his papers.

like always, as soon as you sit up, simon blinks awake. he's bleary, but conscious, and when your eyes meet, you smile at him. he lifts his big hand and rubs your back gently. you don't speak any words so early in the morning, but you don't have to. there isn't much to say when the love of your life loves you, and you love them back.

you push the blankets off, giggling when you reveal the black and orange balls of fur that blink up at you. they almost seem irritated that you interrupted their sleep, snuggled in the heat that simon radiated. they'll just have to deal with it.

you drag your hand down simon's leg wordlessly. you hear his deep breaths from behind, and you reach into your bedside table to press a little balm into your hand before spreading the ointment across his knee and under it. you work it into the muscles nice and slow; any faster, and simon will hitch his breath in pain, and you'll have to start over.

you kiss his knee before laying back down, settling into his side, and you lift up your left hand, wiggling your fingers knowingly at him before looking up towards his face. he smiles down at you sleepily, raising his hand to cup your fingers.

"still love me?" you ask softly, and simon pretends to think about.

"mmm..." he rumbles. "still love ya."

"but do you still like me?"

"more everyday."

the first few years were spent trying to play catch-up. fancy dinners, expensive gifts, handwritten letters that could've been novels to try and stuff the love you have for each other all in one night. they were all wonderful; you think about those nights all the time, and you cherish the gifts he's given you like they are a part of you, but today feels different.

today might not be just another day, but it's just as special as yesterday. and the day before that. and the day before that.

when it's time to really wake up, you let simon guide you. he walks easy, barely a limp, and he sits you down at your vanity to help you do your hair as you add your serums and moisturizers. he's good with that brush, running it through gently, parting your hair the way you like so he can tie it up. he'd braid your hair if you asked him to (he said it wasn't unlike all the knots he knows how to tie--and he meant it, no one dutch braids like him), but you know your show came out last night, and you want to watch them with the scones you have proofing in the fridge.

he makes the coffee and tea while you set the scones in the oven. you fill the cat's bowls while he cleans out the water fountain. it's wordless, the morning routine, but you like the times when you brush by him. when your arm runs against his. when your hands bump going for the same cabinet. when he leans down as he passes you, kissing along your jaw before he keeps walking.

bliss. fucking bliss.

he's waiting for you in the living room once you pull the scones out of the oven. your coffee sits on the table on its coaster, in your favorite mug, and he's under your blanket as he flips through the tv. he already knows what you'll want to watch, and you bite back your smile when you notice him typing it into the search bar because he didn't see it when he scrolled past (you keep telling him to wear his glasses, but he'll never listen).

you take a seat next to him, thumbing at his cheek, and he takes a scone off the plate before biting into it. he smiles when he tastes chocolate, looking at you knowingly, and you reach for his hand as you settle against his chest.

you used to be mangled, too. a mess. pretty on the outside, dying on the inside. all fried wires, a traumatized animal, learned behavior of relieve and appease that kept you out of trouble and out of sight.

you have never seen simon this way. and simon has never seen you this way. no hopeless potential. no wasted space. no diminishing value.

i matter because you matter. you matter because i matter.

hidden, not broken. disguised, not incomplete. you did not have jagged edges, only armor that you tried to put up to protect yourself.

you tip your head back to look up at him, and when he cups your jaw to stare back at you, you're relieved by what you see in his eyes.

ten years. it will be nothing like forever. it will be nothing like your next life, nor like the life after that. it's comforting to know what home looks like. maybe you will recognize it the way you recognized it in this life.

no, that can't be it.

you recognized it because it had already happened. in some other time, in some other place, you were sitting where you sit now, looking at simon the way you look at him now.

you knew who he was before you even met him, and you will know who he is when you meet him again.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #order up

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ivymarquis · 11 months ago

Text

The Neighbor

Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)

Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.

There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.

Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.

His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.

She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.

He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.

The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.

And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.

But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.

The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.

For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.

He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.

That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.

So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?

John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.

He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.

It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.

The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.

“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.

“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”

John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.

If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.

“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.

“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.

“Get out.”

Oh.

John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.

Good fucking girl.

“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.

“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”

For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.

There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.

And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.

The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.

John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.

There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’

He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”

Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.

She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.

It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.

The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.

Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.

She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.

John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.

Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.

John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.

What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.

The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.

He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.

Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.

So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.

He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.

“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.

Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.

It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.

She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.

Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.

“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.

“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.

She doesn’t.

In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.

John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.

They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.

It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.

“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.

“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.

“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.

Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.

By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.

She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.

The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.

Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.

He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.

He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.

There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.

The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.

The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.

“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.

Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.

“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”

He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.

Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.

“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.

Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.

The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.

His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.

As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.

Well. That simply won’t do.

The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.

He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.

“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”

“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.

To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.

“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”

Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.

He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.

It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.

But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.

She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.

Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.

More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.

“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.

“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.

He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.

“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.

He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.

He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.

Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.

Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.

“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.

He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.

“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”

Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.

“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.

The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.

A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.

As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.

“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.

“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.

He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.

The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.

“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.

“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.

His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.

She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.

Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.

Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.

His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.

“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.

“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”

Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.

“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.

She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.

“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.

“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.

She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.

It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.

It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”

He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.

Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.

Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.

John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.

“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.

“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.

“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.

“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”

He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.

John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.

He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.

Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.

And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.

He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.

Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.

“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”

“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”

“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”

The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…

Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.

“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”

“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“

“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”

“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”

“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”

“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”

“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”

Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.

“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”

The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.

John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.

But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.

The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.

Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.

She’s awake.

“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.

She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.

“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.

She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”

It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.

Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.

Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.

He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

#ocaptainchallenge #john price x reader #captain john price #price x reader #cod x reader #x reader #implied plus size reader #take a shot every time john calls the reader pretty #but dont or youll get alcohol poisoning #also I used ‘turn into a chew toy’ 3 times and I dont care :)#my writing

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sashaisready · 5 months ago

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Starting Over: Chapter 2 - Broken

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

I'm sorry, part 2 got a little out of hand in length so I've decided to split it up into different chapters! There should only be one more part after this (maybe??!) Hope you enjoy! This is more of Bucky's POV and gives some more insight into what happened. Thanks for all your engagement with this series, as always comments and reblogs are appreciated! Unfortunately I no longer use taglists.

💔

Your phone sat on Bucky’s desk as he stared at it blankly. He wasn’t really sure what he expected, maybe that you’d call it, or it would magically reveal some sort of answers to the many questions he had. But it didn’t. It just laid there, about as useful as a rock. A ‘babe, how are you?! we need to hang out soon!’ notification from Natasha had lit up the screen an hour or so before, but otherwise it just continued to sit silently – an insulting prompt that mocked him with your absence, the clock on the screen taunting him with how late it had become.

He'd had a glance at the checking and credit card accounts he’d set up for you, but they hadn’t been touched. In fact, nothing had been touched. None of your clothes had moved, your toiletries remained in the bathroom. You hadn’t even appeared to have taken any shoes with you. Natasha’s casual check-in text suggested your friends were unaware of what had happened. You’d just…vanished. A ghost in the night.

He felt nauseous, his gut churning. He’d tried to find the CCTV footage of you leaving, but the image was grainy – he could hardly make you out. The cameras had been acting up lately, he needed Steve to get them fixed. He kept thinking about you wandering out into the night by yourself, no money, no plan, how he’d forced you out into the cold. The one person he swore to protect, to keep safe.

His guilt was eating him alive.

But then he thought of the recording. Your voice so clear, laughing with the fed – mocking Bucky, calling him names and sneering at his gullibility. He could hardly believe it all at first. Not you? Not his doll, who had opened him up to love in ways he could have never imagined. Surely it couldn’t have been you, who had uprooted his life for the better, who had hit him like a whirlwind, changing his very being forever in all the best ways?

But he’d checked in with Banner who ran the tech and had confirmed you had been there. Your phone had pinged the cell tower in that exact spot they’d tracked the meeting point to. They’d even found a CCTV clip of you getting in a strange car that day, despite telling Bucky you were having Wanda over for a girl’s night. The audio was delivered by his own men, verified by their informant. The evidence was overwhelming.

‘It was so easy’ you had giggled cruelly on the clip, the words burned into his memory, ‘I just fluttered my eyelashes a few times and he was asking me to move in after a few weeks. I barely lifted a finger yet he swallowed everything I gave him and asked for more. Now I know how his whole operation works…but I need more time on the Stark deal. Just give me a bit longer and I’ll have that one-armed pussy spill everything after a few more ‘I love yous’ and dirty fucks. I promise...’

Of course he’d seen red. How could he not? He’d always been hot-tempered (passionate, his mother used to say), and the recording had destroyed his entire world in a matter of seconds. Aside from the betrayal, the pain, he felt humiliated. He’d finally been vulnerable with someone, shared intimacy in ways he’d never experienced with another person – only to find out it was all a lie. A trick. A joke. It affirmed his biggest fear – that he had been correct to build those walls, to protect himself from anyone who would use his feelings against him. Love could be exploited as a weakness, and he’d turned up to the fight unarmed.

In his mind, he’d not thrown you out – not sweet, beautiful you. Not you who held him close in your sleep and nuzzled into his chest, not you who traced his scars with her fingers and encouraged him to take off his prosthetic when you were intimate if he wished to. Not you, who stayed up late on his birthday just to present him with a homemade cake when he came home after an exhausting meeting – insisting he blew out the candles. Did she ever even exist? He’d always joked you were too good to be true. Now he’d accidentally manifested that into reality.

No. He’d thrown out her. The woman who had been gathering intel on him since the moment the two of you had met. The woman who exchanged kisses for information. The woman who had laughed about all of this as she gleefully ratted on him, delighting in her prowess over the foolish, lovesick mob boss she’d so easily toppled. The woman who’d callously worn the mask of someone who loved him. She was thrown out of his house, out of his embrace.

Unfortunately, the two versions of you were one and the same.

But at least he knew better, now. He’d go back to casual sex and pretty girls hanging off his arm. Easy. Fun. Uncomplicated. The walls would go back up and they wouldn’t come down again. Deep down he’d always known that men like him weren’t meant to be loved, that they weren’t worthy of genuine affection. Not all voids could be filled. People like you, or at least who he thought you were, were not for him. They deserved better. You’d always deserved better. He’d had a brief taste of happiness, but that was all he deserved. The universe would continue to punish him for his many bad deeds.

The only thing left to do was finally go to bed, but a solemn knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. He could tell it was Steve.

“Steve?” he called, checking his watch. It was late, he’d assumed his second in command had already gone home.

Steve entered looking sullen. He was tensely holding his phone, and someone appeared to be on FaceTime with him. He cautiously extended it to his long-time friend.

“I’m sorry, Buck”, he said gravely.

“Steve..what?” Bucky asked as he gingerly took the phone from him. Sam looked back at him from the small screen, his solemn expression mirroring Steve’s.

“Bucky…I’m sorry,” Sam said quietly in that same tone, filling Bucky with a sinking dread.

Something was very wrong here.

“What is it?” He fired angrily at Sam, “just spit it out…”

Sam flipped the camera around to face what looked like a heap of old rags on the ground. He appeared to be in a parking garage, surrounded by nothing but concrete and darkness. It was hard to make anything out.

“What am I looking at here?” Bucky squinted at the camera as he tried to focus the image. Steve silently observed over his shoulder.

“Tell him what you just told us,” came the sound of Sam’s furious voice off-camera.

Bucky watched with confusion at the screen as Sam's boot suddenly kicked out at the heap, and the heap moved.

And then he clicked.

The ‘heap’ was a man.

The man groaned and cried out as Bucky realised the ‘rags’ were ripped, bloody clothes. He rolled over in obvious pain as Sam manoeuvred the camera to get a better look. As the man turned over, Bucky recognised his face.

It was one of his own.

“Rumlow?” Bucky asked with confusion.

Behind him, Steve moved closer and leaned forward to watch the screen. “Just watch, Buck” he said sombrely.

Rumlow looked up at the phone, blearily staring into the lens as he squinted at the phone light. His face was bruised and bloodied. Someone had given him a good going over.

“It was me. Alright? I did it,” Rumlow groaned.

“Did what?” Bucky sneered, still not entirely clear on where this was going – but already feeling his anger mounting.

Rumlow sighed heavily and Sam gave him another swift kick to the ribs to encourage him to continue.

He moaned out in pain and closed his eyes. “Aaargh. Alright…I did it! I did it okay! I made the recording!” he spat.

Bucky’s eyes darkened as comprehension of the situation unfolding began to take hold. His fist tightened around the phone screen. “Which recording…Rumlow?” He asked, his voice sinisterly calm.

Rumlow paused and spat a wad of blood onto the floor. Bucky recognised the look of fear building in the man’s eyes, he’d seen it many times before. Rumlow was stalling to delay the inevitable.

“Tell me!!” Bucky roared at the phone, holding it so tightly in his fist that the screen might crack.

He watched Rumlow wince as he turned away from the screen, dropping his head in defeat.

“Of your girl…talking to the police…it wasn’t her-uh-it wasn’t even real. I used AI. From…from recordings of her voice from old security footage…I’m sorry…I just-”

But Bucky was eerily composed. Rumlow took his silence as the cue to continue.

“I hacked into the security system and planted the clip of her getting in the car. And I stole her phone for a few hours when she was at the house with a friend, planting it at the meeting point then driving back with it. She didn’t even notice it was gone…I’m sorry I…”

Bucky cleared his throat. He tapped a single contemplative finger over his lips as his eyes glazed over.

“Sam?” he asked, his voice void of emotion.

Sam flipped the camera back to face himself. He looked grimly into the lens. “I’m sorry Buck…we had no idea…I caught him on the phone with the feds about the shipment – he thought I’d already left and-”

“Keep him warm,” Bucky interrupted, his voice cold like ice, “I have more urgent matters to attend to first, but I will deal with him”.

Sam merely nodded. Just as he cut the call, Bucky heard Rumlow wail and beg in the background. He’d be doing a lot more of that soon.

In a sudden fog of anger, Bucky pelted his phone hard against the wall. He roared with rage, lobbing his scotch glass at the window – shattering both. He flipped his desk, the chair, the bookcase – leaving a tsunami of destruction in his wake. Steve merely watched on, patiently. He knew Bucky needed to vent whichever way he could.

Eventually Bucky slowed, panting with exertion as he took a second to try and slick back his hair, now unkempt and messy from his outburst. He pulled back his shoulders as he attempted to regain his composure.

“We’ll find her, Buck”, Steve told him unwaveringly. “She can’t have gone far on foot. Then you can explain everything and apologise”.

Bucky shook his head as he ran his hands through his hair. Toeing the pile of debris that now cluttered his office floor he sighed heavily. “She told me she didn’t do it, Steve. And I didn’t believe her…”

“The recording was very convincing,” Steve clamped a sympathetic hand onto Bucky’s shoulder, “it sounded just like her – and had all of us fooled. Not to mention the phone location evidence…the CCTV of her leaving…before I came up here, Sam told me that this AI is brand new tech, far more advanced and convincing than what the masses have access to…”

Bucky bleakly shook his head, “Doesn’t matter. She’s my girlfriend and I’m supposed to trust her. Believe her. When I heard her voice on that recording I just…”, he trailed off sadly, “…it tapped into my worst fears…”

Steve nodded sagely. “Let’s just find her first, and you can talk to her. And then we can deal with Rumlow”.

Bucky grimaced, “I knew he was a risk to take on…with our shared history in HYDRA’s organisation…but I never thought…”

“Let’s just find her for now,” Steve repeated, always calm in a crisis. He pulled out his phone, making calls to various members of their group, sending out texts and kicking off various communication chains. In mere minutes, they’d have entire squads of their men scouring the area with a fine-tooth comb.

Bucky stood amongst the wreckage – the room’s physical ruins a glaring reminder that this wasn’t the only mess he’d made tonight. He pulled his own phone from his jacket pocket, opening his photo album as the pings and buzzes from Steve’s device filled the room. He flicked through the pictures of you: your face cheesily grinning at the camera, your lips sweetly planted on his cheek, a candid shot of you cooking in the kitchen – caught off-guard, your mouth a small ‘o’ of surprise. You’d asked him to delete it as you thought you looked dumb, but he insisted he keep as he like the way your eyes sparkled in it. It was one of his favourites. Looking at the pictures helped him calm down, his breath evening as he remembered what was important here. He ran a finger over the image of your face, “I’m sorry, doll” he whispered, “I promise I’ll do anything I can to fix this…”

A couple of miles away, you slept deeply in the tear-stained hotel sheets – completely unaware of the organised efforts to track you down. You didn’t dream, you didn’t stir, you just slept - grateful to give yourself over to oblivion.

💔

There had only been a few places you could have gone on foot.

Bucky’s men had worked quickly despite the late hour. The local police force, already firmly in Bucky’s pocket, loaned him a few law enforcement bodies to assist with the search, no questions asked – as was standard. Sheriff Bodecker always played ball. They collected the CCTV from local businesses, doorbell cam footage from local residents (who weren’t particularly happy to be woken to do so, but didn’t have much choice), swept the area on foot and in vehicles. It was faintly possible you had hitchhiked and thumbed a ride into the city, but Bucky knew this wasn’t likely, so they put that option on the backburner – although it hadn’t been entirely ruled out.

The gas station staff hadn’t seen you, but their CCTV did catch a blurred figure passing in the road opposite the camera. A faint outline of your route started to emerge as the puzzle pieces came together. Eventually, Bucky was sent the security footage of you checking into the Holiday Inn. His heart pulled as he watched you looking lost at the reception desk – your eyes round like saucers as you produced crumpled dollar bills, head turning left to right as you surveyed your drab surroundings. He could only imagine how lost you must’ve felt, how hurt and betrayed. Exiled by the man you loved, you trusted, and having to hunker down in a shitty roadside hotel. Part of him was impressed by your ability to pick yourself up and keep going even in the toughest circumstances – it was one of the many reasons he loved you. But mainly, he was ashamed. Ashamed that he’d pushed you to this, that he’d failed you in so many ways.

Bucky inhaled deeply as he closed the hotel clip on his phone, nodding to his driver and stepping into the dark SUV.

I’m on my way, doll.

#mob!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #starting over fic

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leaawrites · 4 months ago

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I have so many short & sweet videos on my fyp right now. I can’t stop thinking about singer!reader announcing her f1 bf by arresting him and dedicating Juno to him like Sabrina does at her concerts. The fans would go wild!!! I’m desperate for this fic

Juno (Live from the Shrot n'Sweet Tour)

Lando Norris x fem!singer!reader

Summary: requested as above.

Wordcount: 0.6k

Warnings: (very) suggestive content, smau (a first time for me, i hope it's alright), flirting, fluff

Note: omgg, this is such an good idea! I loved writing it! I chose Lando bc, I just love writing for him, hope that's alright with you. If not, let me know and I'll (gladly) make another version.

Masterlist, Short n'Sweet Series

“If you haven’t already noticed,” Y/n announced, making the crowd go quiet to hear her talk. “We have a special guest tonight in the crowd.”

The moment the words left her lips and the camera panned to the guy in the audience, beaming up at her with the biggest smile one could muster, the crowd went wild. Lando was just laughing at the reaction.

Everyone there knew how big of an f1 fan Y/n was. Having attended some grand prixs already and posting her reactions to every race on her insta story, she didn’t try to make her love for the sport unknown.

The camera went back to the woman on stage, sirens going off and making everyone know what would happen next. It was a common tradition on the tour. But now, it was different when she said, “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid you’re under arrest for being too hot.”

The way she winked at him and from how red he got at the mere eye contact with her, made it obvious this wasn’t mindless flirting. This was proper natural behavior for them.

“That hot, formula 1 driver I have absolutely no relation to.” She pointed out at the crowd. “You know who I mean, right? Of course, you do.” She nodded in approval at the crowd as they clapped and shouted in excitement. They were there for the show and boy, were they going to give them one.

“Sorry, what was your name again?” She asked innocently, holding the microphone in his direction.

Instead of one answer, she got thousands. All calling one name: Lando.

“Oh, okay. Okay,” she said after genuinely being surprised by the amounts of answers she received.

“Lando, gosh,” she continued talking, waving her hand in front of her face like she was trying not to faint. “Lando.” She mused his name, making it melt on her tongue like it was the most beautiful thing she heard.

She didn’t need to ask, but a script is a script. “Lando, where are you from?”

“Monaco,” he shouted back this time.

“Monaco? So, you’re rich?” He nodded. “And you came all the way here to see me?”

“Only for you.”

“Only for me? You’re too much. Stop it.” Waving her hand at him, as a blush graced her face and she scrunched up her nose. “You’re doing things to me, boy. I can’t even.”

Before she could keep on rambling, her backup dancer opened the back of her once long skirt making it fall down, revealing a shorter version. She stepped out of it, saying, “Oh my god, my clothes are falling of for you. This is embarrassing.”

She heard his voice again, a flirty comment leaving his lips: “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time?” She repeated, trying to see if she heard him correctly. When he nodded, she could see the confidence building up inside of him more and more. He wasn’t as nervous about this anymore as he was backstage before the show. Overthinking and stressing about how the fans would react to it. “Oh, you’re right about that.”

The crowd went wild again. Screaming louder than ever before.

“So, I guess,” she started talking, taking the fluffy pink handcuffs from another one of her backup dancers. “Could you maybe keep them for the rest of the show? Just so, I don’t loose them for later.” She winked at him again, starting to laugh when she saw him bury his face in his hands out of embarrassment.

She could barely still hear herself over the screams of the fans.

“Anyway, I’d like to dedicate this next song to my boyfriend, Lando Norris.”

And then the song began, the crowd going crazy and she couldn’t stop smiling. Everyone knew, finally. They knew and she made it official in a way only she could.

Lando Norris

Yep, this is my girlfriend. No more of that Lando Norizz bullshit.

yourusername: babe, what the fuck is that last picture?

yourusername: love you though, i guess

-> LandoNorris: you guess? Didn’t seem like that last night, huh?

-> yourusername: omg, shut up. This isn't a public account concersation.

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kakerutori · 4 months ago

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I can’t stop talking about Byler fighting. I truly can’t. Because it’s the greatest evidence for me that they’re endgame if not also incredibly compatible.

Their arguments do not ring with an air of “get away from me.” They’re not telling each other, “you’re my enemy.” They sound more like “what’s wrong? Talk to me,” and, “you’re my best friend. I want to keep what we have.” And what’s wilder yet is that they don’t lack in understanding with each other. They understand each other so well that one of them has to retreat.

This is what happens when you become so overwhelmed that you have to step away from the emotion - and would a truly hateful fight end like this? Look, the answer is partly yes, but when you then look at how these two come back together, there’s an active pursuit, a turning back - specifically from Mike both times - where repentance is sought after. And that’s where we veer away from hatred and into love.

Love does this. Love fights and hits right where it hurts and sometimes goes way too far, but then in the end, you don’t pull away. You don’t just leave it or come back angry and want to stake your claim, you think about what’s been done and grow from it. And I think that Mike’s apology in s4e4 was the single greatest moment of growth for him as a character. As was Will’s acceptance of his apology and trying to apologize, too.

I think that where the general audience get mixed up is that Mike and Will’s fights end on a sour note. They always look like they get cut short, they’re obviously talking about El, oh, they’re clearly trying to get away from each other and can’t finish their thoughts.

But you can’t just stop there. You can’t deny that these emotions are reserved for each other alone. When you analyze their fights and really see what they’re talking about - “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls,” “well, we used to be best friends!” - it’s not that difficult to see they’re emotional over each other.

At the heart of it, when you care about something, when you love it. You get emotional. If you didn’t love it, if it meant nothing to you, you wouldn’t react. Mike and Will react to each other.

It’s not hard to imagine them continuing to fight and learning more about each other. Facing more of what hurts. I agree that they get cut short, and I think that one jab too deep may reveal something incredibly important to them. But we just don’t get to see it in Mike’s garage nor at the Rink-o-Mania, and I think that that’s wholly intentional and possibly reserved for season 5. And from there, it’s not hard to see their emotions turn into something more, too. Because at the end of the day, they’re passionate about their relationship.

All this is to say, I’m really excited for them to dig deeper next season. Maybe it’s a fight, maybe it’s a confession, maybe it’s both. And just like how their fights don’t truly end in one leaving the other but coming back together later on, their stories aren’t over yet.

#Byler #byler analysis #I could go on and on but I tried to keep it short lol #thinking thoughts

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chantersboard · 9 months ago

Text

Lovely To Be Rained On With You

Summary: 3K. Reader and Joel rush to find shelter from the storm

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, post-outbreak, oral f!receiving, unprotected PIV, creampie

A/N: okay I have spent so much time on here reading other Joel fics and enjoying myself so I kinda wanted to give back. but first of all I need to get three things off my chest. one, it's been a long time since I've written anything. two, this is my first writing The Last of Us. three, and probably most important as I beg for kindness, it's my first time writing smut. this has been sitting in my docs for too long so Imma just press post and walk away. enjoy! AO3

EDIT: This was a one shot that got continued! You can find it here: Lovely To Sleep With You

The weather was changing rapidly. Not long ago it had only been partly cloudy, but now, for as far as the eye could see, the sky was one massive, threatening cloud. The leaves danced on their branches as the gusting wind flowed through them; their rustling a constant melody accompanied by the quickening beat of two pairs of boots.

Tightening the grip on your rifle, you look up at the darkening sky. The weapon could protect you from a lot, but not from this. It had been four days since you left camp and it was still another day’s walk until you returned.

There was no outrunning this storm.

A few feet ahead of you Joel Miller marches onward, his broad frame and long legs setting a rapid pace you struggle to keep up with. The pack on your back is overfilled and heavy with recently looted goods. It causes your steps to be slow, more cautious and measured.

You take a deep breath, “Joel…?” you begin. You’re both thinking it. Someone has to say it out loud. “It’s gonna pour in any minute.”

His graying curls dance along with the leaves in the wind. He steps over a fallen tree then turns and offers his hand to help you over. You graciously accept it, sliding your fingers over his calloused hand. The weight of the bag digs into your shoulders as you step over. Had it not been for the heavy sack you would have been closer to camp by now, but those supplies are the sole reason the two of you journeyed so far away.

“I know,” he says as you join him on the other side of the log.

“We’re too far from camp—”

“I know,” he repeats, his brows furrowing. He scouts the distance, bright eyes scanning left and right, through the trees and beyond. A bead of sweat slowly falls down his face, the unseasonable hot May weather demanding to be acknowledged.

“There was a cabin…” he trails off, lost in thought. You look ahead, only seeing trees. “D’you remember? Was it before or after all those alliums we saw?”

You think back and try to remember this area from a few days ago but a lot had happened since: Joel injured his shoulder wrestling with a jammed door; you found and promptly devoured a can of ravioli; there were two separate attacks with solitary infected; finding the motherlode of supplies in what looked like a doomsday prepper’s basement; oh, and then there was last night.

Still riding the high of finding all those medical supplies and ammunition (and a bottle of bourbon), the two of you spent last evening in high spirits. You shared stories and laughed and drank. Joel hummed a tune that had you swaying your hips and smiling towards the obsidian sky. For a moment things felt so easy and normal.

At some point that night, with only a sliver of the moon in the sky, you stumbled in the darkness and fell into Joel’s arms. You had looked up at him, your hand rested on his strong chest as you breathed in the scent of him. Your body tingled where his hands pressed into your waist. The stars twinkled above him as he smiled crookedly and whispered, “y’okay, sweetheart?” and you nearly confessed. Nearly told him how you truly felt about him. Nearly revealed you knew he watched you when he thought you couldn’t see.

Nearly kissed his gorgeous face.

But then he dropped his hands, the magic of the moment gone, and you swallowed your feelings. You fell asleep last night wishing things were different. Wishing Joel was yours.

A single raindrop plopping on your forehead brings you back to the present. “We saw the cabin first,” you recall. “And then the flowers.”

Joel nods, walking forward even faster than he had before. He too must have felt a raindrop.

The two of you continue onwards, the sky teasing you with singular drops of rain as you migrant the woodsy terrain. It doesn’t take long until you see them in the distance.

Alliums. The purple flowers, towering high on skinny stalks, sway in the wind. The bulbous plant, petals like bursting fireworks, are scattered across the field. The sight of them brings you relief. It shouldn’t be much longer until you find the cabin.

Just as you walk past the last bunch of flowers the sky begins to open up. The rain comes softly at first. Small drops that slide off your skin and moisten your clothing. Foolishly, you believe if it continues like this you’ll be fine. But as lightning shoots across the sky and thunder shakes your body, the drops grow heavier, their frequency increasing.

The rain continues to fall harder as you trek on. The sound of water blanketing the land drowns out everything else. Joel turns and looks behind at you, his normally bouncy hair weighted down and plastered to his face. Another clap of thunder rings as the rain soaks through you. It seeps all the layers of your clothing, through your jeans, through your socks, pooling in your boots.

Walking is becoming more difficult as your boots sink into the mud, your clothes are soaked through and heavy and your cumbersome backpack doesn’t help. You’re about to yell ahead, tell Joel it doesn’t even matter anymore, that you’re too tired, but then you see the cabin.

It’s a tiny little thing. The sheltered patio leads into one cozy room. To your right is a kitchenette, directly in front of you is a small living space, and further back, against the wall rests a bed. There’s a closed off area there as well, presumably a bathroom.

Joel crosses the cabin, his hand resting on the pistol holstered to his hip, and peers into the smaller room. His posture relaxes and he gives a quick nod. The cabin is safe.

You rest your rifle against the wall by the door and unceremoniously drop your bag. Relief spreads through your bones. You arch your back and stretch your arms upwards, pulling the muscles along your spine. You glance across the room and there it is again—Joel is watching you. His eyes travel your body and linger where your soaked top clings to your chest.

He’s lost in the sight of you. You raise your arms higher, his gaze warming your cheeks and your core, and you push your chest further out to taunt him. The wet fabric is unforgiving and you're sure he can see your hardened nipples even from across the room.

You decide to break the silence. “You think it will last long?”

Joel snaps to attention, his eyes finding yours as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Huh? What was that?”

“The storm,” you pause to lick your lips. “Do you think it’ll last long?”

Joel sets his backpack down at the head of the bed. “Not too sure,” he looks past you out the window at the turbulent weather, “regardless, we should stay here for the night.” He opens his bag and begins to rummage through it.

You nod as you walk over to the foot of bed. With your back facing him you sit on the edge. “In that case I’m gonna get out of these clothes.”

You wrap your fingers under the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head. You toss the clothing and it lands with a loud slap on the wooden floor. After kicking off your boots and socks you lift your hips off the bed enough to push your jeans to your thighs. You struggle to get the tight and stiff wet denim off your legs.

You lean back on your forearms and look behind at Joel. He’s suddenly very interested in his bag. You watch as he digs around, the muscles in his arms pressing against his tee. His face is glistening wet and it highlights the slope of his nose and the curve of his jaw. He’s just as handsome as always.

“Hey, Joel?” You bite your lip and wait for his attention.

His hands still as he looks down at you. “Yes, sweetheart?”

The endearment makes your heart swell. You swing your dangling legs. “Can you help me out of these? They’re giving me trouble.”

He looks at the jeans halfway down your thighs. You’ve changed in front of Joel before but after last night, after spending so much time alone with him, things have gotten intimate. You feel exposed half undressed in your mismatched undergarments, but it’s also exciting and your breath quickens under Joel’s glare.

“Yeah, I can help,” he nearly whispers. He drops his bag on the floor, the stuff within no longer important, and rounds the bed. You lift your legs when he gets close and await his touch.

He holds your ankles first. Gathering the material there, he attempts to pull, but the jeans barely move. So his hands climb up, over your calves, then behind your knees, and when they reach your thighs he pauses. He hooks onto the edge of the material, his thick fingers touching your bare skin, and pulls.

The jeans start to give way. As he tugs your body jostles, your breasts bouncing lightly in your worn bra, each jerk becoming more arousing. Once he’s peeled your pants off he discards them onto the floor along with your shirt.

“There ya go,” he says as he comes between your legs and leans in. “Will you be needin’ anything else?”

He looks at you, his eyes intense and questioning. He’s so close you can feel his body heat, even with his cool wet shirt brushing against your bare torso. A flash of lightning briefly brightens the room. You swallow hard and wait for the resounding thunder. You won’t repeat last night. You won’t let this moment pass.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

And suddenly Joel’s lips are pressed against yours. He kisses you hungrily, mashing himself against you, finally feeding the longing you’ve both felt for some time. You part your mouth and allow his tongue entry as you melt into him. You explore each other, your hands running along his chest as you’re rendered breathless under his kissing. Your fingers tangle in his shirt. You pull at the fabric wanting to feel his skin against yours.

Joel breaks from the heated kiss and straightens his body. His eyes are dark and filled with lust as he yanks his shirt off. You watch him as you scoot back on the bed and fully lay down. He kicks off his boots and undoes his belt and jeans. His body is strong from years of manual labor. There’s a line of hair on his soft belly that trails under his boxers.

“What else do you need, sweetheart?”

You can’t tell if the roaring in your ears is the sound of the rain or of your quickly beating heart. Joel waits for your answer as he unclips the gun holster from his belt and rests it on the floor. His hardening cock springs free when he drops his pants and boxers.

He strokes himself slowly and you watch as his cock gets harder in his grasp. You rub your thighs together, desperately seeking relief for the growing ache between your legs. You unclasp your bra and cup your breasts. Joel softly grunts when you pinch your nipples between your fingers.

The sight of him bare and beautiful leaves you breathless. He looks so handsome with his hair slicked back and glossy from the rain. The sight of his cock, hard and ready for you, sets you on fire. He licks his lips and all you can think about is those lips on you. On your mouth, on your tits, on your cunt. You have never wanted someone so badly.

“You, Joel,” you finally say. “I need you.”

He smiles at your answer and makes his way onto the bed. He takes his time crawling up to you, planting kisses along the way. He pauses when he meets the apex of your legs.

His fingers curl around the band of your panties and he pulls them down and off. You open your legs, inviting him in, so desperate for his touch.

He looks up with hungry eyes. “I want to taste you,” he says as his fingers part your pussy lips, opening you even further for him.

Joel opens his mouth and presses his tongue against your cunt. He licks up, takes his time savoring you until he passes over your sensitive bundle of nerves. The sensation has you moaning and lifting your hips to meet his mouth.

“Oh, Joel,” you whine as he continues sucking and licking you, alternating between the flat of his tongue and the point of his tip. One of his large fingers finds the entrance to your hole and pushes inside.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me already,” he mumbles into your folds. “One of my fingers isn’t enough, is it?”

Your hands run through his hair as he inserts another finger inside you, your walls clenching around him. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them into the spot within you that has you moaning his name.

Your pleasure grows as Joel finds his rhythm, his mouth and hand working together to bring you closer and closer to orgasm.

“Please, Joel,” you’re begging, pleading with him. “Don’t stop! I’m so close, please don’t stop!”

So he doesn’t. His moans join your screams of pleasure until the pressure in your core finally snaps. Your back arches and your legs shake as your orgasm rips through you. Joel’s fingers continue to work through your high, prolonging your pleasure until your legs relax and your grip loosens from his hair.

“Fuck,” you exhale as Joel crawls up, his strong body caging around you. He leans into you, the touch of his skin on yours and the weight of him soothing your body. He nestles his face into the crook of your neck as one of his hands squeezes your breast, his fingers playfully twisting your nipple.

He’s planting kisses on you again, on your neck, along your jaw, then on your lips. You moan when you taste your own release on his tongue as he slips it between your lips. You spread your legs further underneath him, a fire burning in your core that only he can put out. His cock rests thick and hard between you.

“I still need you,” you whisper, lifting your hips to grind yourself against the length of him. You need all of him, every pound and every inch. You need his touch, his lips, his moans. You need him around you. You need him in you.

He grunts as you rub against him, your wet hole eager to be filled.

“I need you too,” he whispers back as he reaches in between your bodies. He grabs himself and aligns the thick head of his cock at your entrance.

You whimper as he slowly pushes himself inside you. Inch by inch your walls stretch to accommodate his shaft. Seeds of pleasure start to grow when he’s fully inserted into you.

Joel stills inside you and looks into your eyes. His face is twisted in bliss. “Goddamn, your pussy is squeezing me so tight,” he rasps. He sharply exhales when you flex your cunt around him.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. He begins to pump his hips then, making soft shallow thrusts until he’s gotten used to the feeling of you. He moans into your mouth as he picks up the pace, nearly pulling himself out of you entirely before plummeting back into your depths.

His dick is intoxicating. Waves of pleasure wash over you each time he rams himself deep in you. He fills you completely, your wet hole stretching around the length of him.

Joel begins stroking faster, his hips snapping into you at a blinding pace. Your fingers dig into his back when he rocks into the spot that makes you arch your back and moan his name.

He smiles, satisfied with the pleasure his cock gives you. “Right there?” He asks as he continues to mercilessly drill into you, pounding your sweet spot over and over again.

“Yea—oh my god, Joel—yes!”

He’s already pushing you towards your next orgasm and he can sense it. He repositions your bodies, folding you nearly in half as he brings your knees up.

You scream out as the altered position lets him stroke deeper inside you. His cock hits your cervix, pain and pleasure meshing together, forcing you closer to the edge.

“You like that, sweetheart?” Joel asks as your moans increase in volume. “Look at your pretty pussy juices making a mess… so fucking wet.”

You look down where the two of you are connected. You watch as he disappears inside you and then reappears again, shiny with your slick. The image makes your head spin.

“I… oh fuck! I’m gonna… I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna cum on my cock for me? Huh?” His strokes are becoming more erratic, his own orgasm approaching. “Gonna let me feel that pussy grip my dick while you cum?”

Joel’s filthy words combined with his dick destroying your cunt sends you over. You yell out as your orgasm knocks over you. Your pussy pulsates around Joel, pushing him over the edge. You milk his cock as he cums, his dick twitching inside you as his warm seed fills your hole.

The two of you lay there a while, Joel softening inside you as his body envelopes yours. When your body has relaxed and your breathing has slowed Joel softly presses his lips to yours. He rises and slowly pulls out. You feel your combined arousal spill out of you once he’s completely out of the warmth of your cunt. You immediately miss the fullness he gave you when he rolls over to lay beside you.

The storm continues on outside. Fat raindrops pellet the cabin and the wind rattles the windows. Staying in was a good call, the sky was already darkening with the approaching night.

You look over to Joel. His eyes are closed, his face is soft and relaxed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so calm before.

“Y’okay, sweetheart,” you ask, mirroring Joel’s words from last night.

Joel chuckles as he intertwines his fingers in yours. “Yeah. I am now.”

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller x Reader #Joel Miller x You #The Last of Us #Joel Miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #chantersboardwritessometimes

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lilianade-comics · 7 months ago

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some thoughts on a College Trio led series

-A somewhat more adult tone, not to the point of obscenity or gross shock humor but the stories, situations, and comedy are "edgier" than what would have been acceptable in DP. Mild innuendos no one comments on, ghost enemies committing crimes that are more serious, the presence of alcohol, etc.

-Mild swearing, but only for Maddie. Jack doesn't swear at all and Vlad is still trapped in food-curse-word purgatory. There is one obligatory joke in the series where Vlad might have been about to drop a real expletive, but Jack cuts him off by blaring the RV's horn at that exact moment.

-No favoritism is shown to any member of the trio. They all get equal chances to be badass and equal chances to be the butt of jokes, of which there are many.

-In my own mind, this series takes place in an "everyone knows" continuity that could possibly be post Phantom Planet or simply follows an AU reveal scenario. This applies to Danny as well, who will occasionally cameo where appropriate. You'd think this level of understanding would make Jack, Maddie, and Vlad more functional as a team, but it does not.

-Vlad is an exasperated & petty tsundere asshole and his helpfullness varies wildly, but he is helping.

-I can't stress this one enough, but a large percentage of Jack and Vlad's interactions involve Jack referencing insane things that happened to them 20 years ago, and Vlad consistently losing his absolute crap because Jack is apparently leaving out key details that make these past events worse and/or Jack's fault.

-Similarly, Jack keeps trying to bring back 20 year old inside jokes and Vlad is not having it, except for one time he actually cracks a smile at Jack's timing, and another time when Jack uses one of these old jokes to discreetly communicate what ridiculous action he's about to take while all their enemies are listening. Vlad pauses to recollect the context of that particular joke and then visibly panics because Jack is probably about to explode the room they're all standing in.

-Vlad's biggest enemy in this series (in his mind) is the correlation between the timing wherein he decides to go ghost and Jack decides to activate the anti ghost shield. Cringefail, thy name is Vlad Masters.

-Identity Crisis, but it's Vlad.

-There's a bizarre filler episode where a bunch of cultists think Plasmius is their feline god incarnate and Vlad is doing absolutely nothing to correct them on that.

#I'm gonna be less online this month but I thought I'd still throw these thoughts out there #danny phantom #college trio #jack fenton #maddie Fenton #vlad masters #text

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moonpascaltoo · 2 months ago

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daryl dixon

masterlist • the walking dead • 11/30/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 it happened quiet I @nervoushottee

what you and Daryl have is a soft quiet love.

𑣲 night shift I @/nervoushottee

you keep Daryl company on a night watch

𑣲 my wife I @xoxo-sarah

𑣲 untitled I @mvth3r

5 times daryl feels your affection down to his core and the many 1 time he unconsciously returns the favor

𑣲 drabble I @/mvth3r

thinking about daryl giving you a nickname…

𑣲 listen before i go I @r6eduss

Daryl leaves with Merle without thinking how it would affect you.

𑣲 bodyguard I @optimist-pine

You need a bath, but there's no way you're going alone

𑣲 eloquence I @/optimist-pine

𑣲 migraine I @lunajay33

You get frequent migraines but they’ve been mia since the apocalypse but even since you got to the farm they’ve returned but you didn’t wanna bother anyone until Daryl finds you balled up on the floor in pain

𑣲 poison for some I @hidtired

Your deathly allergic to nuts and dinner in the prison leaves you running for medicine. Your abrupt departure confuses everyone, until your partner Daryl remembers of your allergies. Now it was 24 hours and you were no where to be found.

𑣲 miles away I @/hidtired

A last minute trip leaves you separated from your fiancé when the world ends. Years of travel inevitably returns you to him. But years out in the world causes change.

𑣲 shower thoughts, water falls I @daryldove

𑣲 kiss me I @secretlovezz

while you and Daryl are out on a run feelings are disruptively revealed

𑣲 approaches I @holdmytesseract

When Andrea mistakes Daryl for a walker and shots him, you are here to take care of the injured archer; causing the both of you to get closer...

𑣲 last night on earth I @maggie-atwood

During your time with the Atlanta Camp, you form an unlikely friendship with the younger Dixon brother. When the group finds their way to the CDC, you feel safe enough to push past the lines of just friends.

✰ caring I @darylssunshine

𑣲 ink on skin I @mystic-writings

daryl gave up on the concept of soulmates long ago, even with the words marked on his wrist. and then he found you.

𑣲 no-nonsense I @dixons-sunshine

𑣲 i found you I @/dixons-sunshine

When the dead started to rise and the world went to hell, Daryl got seperated from you, the love of his life. After over a year of searching for you and finding no evidence of your survival, Daryl was beginning to give up and count his losses. One day, Carol stumbled upon a wounded woman while out on a run with Glenn, and the two of them decide to accept you into the prison. Little did they know, that would end up being one of the best decisions they could've ever made.

𑣲 get off my back I @metanoiahh

A great fascination for the youngest Dixon took over you ever since the Quarry. Daryl notices and in fear of reciprocating your feelings, he continuously pushes you away. After Andrea shoots him, you don’t leave his side with the excuse of keeping an eye on him.

𑣲 bitch I @collecting-stories

You throw some choice words Andrea’s way as she heads out into the woods with Daryl, partially because you hate her and partially because you’re jealous.

𑣲 home at last I @emswritingsstuff

After being left on the roof with Merle, you're separated from Daryl.

𑣲 quite badass I @/emawritingsstuff

𑣲 soft spot part 2 I @theteasetwrites

Daryl finds his lady love injured in the woods after being separated, and everyone is surprised to find not only that Daryl has a girlfriend, but that he's very, very soft for her.

𑣲 protector I @/theteasetwrites

A one-night stand with your brother's best friend, Shane, proves to be more trouble than it was worth when he develops a bit of a worrisome obsession with you, and your friend and confidant, Daryl, isn't too happy about it.

𑣲 the fall I @violettwrites

daryl loses you during the start of the apocalypse, and then he finds you again.

𑣲 request I @daryltwdixon

A drunk Daryl grows uncharacteristically shy around you, forgetting for a moment that you're together.

𑣲 to the bone I @weretheones

You can’t stop shivering and Daryl can’t sleep.

𑣲 pretty when i cry I @d1xonss

𑣲 shot in the dark I @cultofdixon

Andrea shouldn’t have been on top of that RV and shouldn’t have fired. She asked for what happened next

𑣲 i found yea, bunny I @/cultofdixon

Never did he think he’d find anyone to love him, then when someone did. The world ended

𑣲 vocalize whats inside I @/cultofdixon

Risking your life countless times for someone who doesn’t notice, only for you to realize it was never one sided

𑣲 falling for you...wasn't meant to hurt I @/cultofdixon

The two of you grew close because the universe thought you were meant to be. But Daryl agreeing to let you help him find Carol’s daughter, he didn’t expect anything bad to happen

𑣲 a new start I @multific

Daryl loved the nights, this was the only time he could see you again.

𑣲 childhood friends I @sukunasbow

in which you reunite with your childhood friend, only for him to underestimate your value in the current state of the world.

𑣲 back me I @magicalqueennightmare

You and Daryl form a friendship at the quarry camp

𑣲 there ain't no competition darlin I @darylsgirl

reader has feelings for Daryl. And one Day Daryl brings an injured girl from the woods to the prison and becomes really close with her, which hurts the readers feelings. Also make the ending of your choice

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fic recs #the walking dead #twd x reader

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emchante · 2 months ago

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storytime seduction | m. verstappen

request: Mmm thinking about a storytelling stream w Max 🤭 he reads poetry or a smutty excerpt from a novel in that insanely hot Dutch accent, making flirty remarks here n there with those obscene low moans on purpose

softcore porn streamer! max

warnings: 18+/suggestive — minors dni.

request was sent by di!! can’t answer it as it isn’t in my inbox anymore, so the original ask is written above. so glad you guys are loving this au, because i love writing it! don’t forget to drop your thoughts in my inbox<3

you join the stream when you’re finally in bed for the night, and met with the usual display. max has a lazy grin on his face, the one that makes you both excited and terrified of what he has planned. the title had teased ‘story time with max’, which honestly left it quite vague.

you’re not entirely sure what to expect, but as soon as he leans back in his chair, holding a book up with an annoyingly suggestive smirk— your stomach twists.

max adjusts his mic slightly, leaning in as his deep, accented voice comes through like a warm caress. “alright, alright,” he says, opening the book up. he flips to the section he had bookmarked, and his other hand casually grips the hem of his tight tank top, lifting it slightly to scratch at his stomach. it’s a subtle move— but the flash of soft skin, the peak of his light happy trail— but it’s enough to send the chat spiralling.

“oh, this?” he asks, catching on and pulling the tank top higher, revealing his soft stomach with his large hand now splayed entirely across it. he watches the messages come in even faster as he exposes himself more, and he chuckles deeply before pulling it back down. “now, let’s set the mood.”

the lighting in his room is dim, soft and golden, casting just enough shadow to make the atmosphere feel.. intimate. he begins to read an excerpt from whatever erotica is in front of him, and it’s obscene how good he sounds. the words roll off his tongue like they were made to be spoken in that voice— low and rich with just enough gravel to send a rush of heat throughout your body.

“‘her breath hitched,” he reads, tone dipping lower as his lips quirk up into a slight smirk. “his touch—barely a graze— sent heat racing down her spine’,” he pauses, looking to the chat before pulling an innocent expression. “oh, too much? or should i keep going?”

that chat of course explodes, begging max to continue, spamming about how he knows what he’s doing— and the smirk on his face only grows as the chat begins to flood with pleas.

he laughs softly, the sound vibrating throughout your headphones and into your very soul. “okay, okay, you all asked for it.”

and then he’s back to reading the filth that he holds in his hands, drawing out the words like he knows exactly what he’s doing to everyone listening. his voice is velvet, dark and teasing, his dutch accent thickening around certain phrases— especially the more explicit dialogue.

you’re hyper-aware of every pause he takes, every low chuckle that escapes him when he sees chat losing its mind. when the writing starts to get more heated, he leans closer into the mic, and your skin prickles as if he’s speaking directly into your way.

“‘you like that?’” he reads, and then he turns his gaze towards his camera. he licks his lips slowly, tilting his head as he continues to stare for a few moments, before he turns to his chat. “hmm, i think i’ve heard that one before,” he teases, his grin downright sinful.

max shifts in his seat, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of his waistband like he doesn’t realise what he’s doing. “‘her legs trembled as his hands slid lower, his fingers brushing the bare skin where her thighs met—’”

he breaks off again, this time with an obscene, low groan escaping his throat. “this is downright filth, isn’t it?” he asks, his hand moving from his waistband up to the back of his neck to scratch it, muscles flexing with the motion.

“‘her breath came in short gasps as his lips found her ear, whispering promises of what he’d do to her,’” he mimics it, leaning close to the mic and lowering his voice even further, eyes peering into the camera. “i could whisper to you too, you know. tell you exactly what i’d do if you were here.”

your breath hitches, heat flushing through you once more as his words seem to sink directly into your skin.

his hands trails back down his body again, thumb dragging itself across his chest and falling lower before brushing the line of his waistband again. “‘her body arched into him, begging silently for more— hmm, i should make you all beg for more, shouldn’t i? horny fuckers here to listen to me read you an erotic bedtime story,” he interrupts himself to tease the chat, licking his lips at the eager response.

“good girls,” he mutters, a deep heat flourishing from your core as the words do something to you— and evidently everyone else in the chat. “one last line. just for you.”

his voice dips even lower, barely above a growl now. “‘his hands slid under her thighs, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. his mouth hovered over hers, his breath hot and heavy as he finally gave her what she had been waiting for.’”

max shuts the book with a snap, tossing it aside like it’s nothing. “well,” he says, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. “i think that’s enough for tonight. don’t want to ruin you completely, yeah?”

the chat is still spiralling— as are you— but max only winks, stretching in his chair as a sliver of stomach shows again. “sweet dreams, everyone,” he purrs, “try not to think of me too much.”

and then the stream cuts off.

⋆˙⟡ enjoy this? i hope you did! please come chat to me about it in my ask box! publicly or on anon— i’ll answer everything <3

#em’s fics #em’s filth #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen smut #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen oneshot #softcore p streamer! max

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izurou · 2 years ago

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“say ‘i’m the man!’”

eren’s voice carries down the hall, boisterous and loud as it easily reaches every corner of your small one bedroom apartment.

you furrow your brows and glance in the general direction of the sound, but decide to ignore it and continue on with breakfast—gathering a dollop of strawberry jam on your knife before spreading it onto a piece of toast.

you’d rather not know what the two of them are up to, eren and your two year old son that is. he’s supposed to be getting the kid ready for the day, but whether or not that’s actually happening is a different story.

“i’m da man!” his little voice repeats the sentence—not quite as powerful as his dad, but still loud enough to find your ears.

“louder!” eren shouts, and you immediately drop what you’re doing to head towards them.

your slippers scuff against the floor as you shuffle down the hall, following the source of sound until it leads you just outside the bathroom door. you nudge it with your foot, causing it to creep open and reveal the duo—your son, who’s standing on the counter, and eren, who—at the very least, is holding onto him.

“hi,” eren grins, prompting his mini me to do the same. you note the atrocious man bun, well, little man bun your son is sporting—hair haphazardly pulled together at the back of his head.

eren gestures to him, pride flooding his features as he mumbles, “he’s the man.”

“oh yeah?” a smile tugs at your own lips—every ounce of authority you waltzed over here with threatening to vanish into thin air as you look at your little family. nevertheless, someone has to enforce the rules around here. “well, tell the man that if he doesn’t keep it down, he’s not getting any chocolate milk with his breakfast.”

the two of them exchange a glance, an identical look of concern—real and genuine from your son, dramatic and over the top from your fiancé.

“should we go eat?” eren whispers to him, naively expecting him to follow in his footsteps again.

“yeah!” your son yells, excitement filling his eyes at the mention of his all time favourite beverage. he sets a new record every time he chugs a glass, and always gets a kick out of the little moustache he gets afterwards—loving that he looks like dad.

“buddy,” eren laughs as he lightly cups a hand over the toddler’s mouth. “shhh, quiet okay? you heard the boss, no chocolate milk if you yell.”

your son puts his hand over his own mouth and nods his head, prompting eren to lift him onto the floor and send him scurrying off into the kitchen—little feet padding against the hardwood.

“what the hell?” you say, keeping your voice low to ensure your baby doesn’t hear. “it’s 8 o’clock in the morning, why are you shouting?”

“hey, i’m instilling confidence in him,” he pouts, having heard you mention something along those lines once or twice—about how important it is for him to be proud of who he is.

“eren,” you sigh, because you know he means well—he wants nothing but the absolute best for your son too, which is why he more or less lets him do as he pleases.

he encourages him to jump around and dance to his favourite songs, and doesn’t care that he gets marker all over his face when he colours. he’ll give him bear paws before dinner, and hold his hand as the two of them run and giggle down the halls of your apartment building, because they’re just so happy to come home and see you after a trip to the grocery store.

eren lets your kid be a kid, and while that might put a scowl on the face of those around you, all that matters is that your son is always smiling.

“i know, just,” you pause, searching for the right words—the ones that won’t paint you as the bad cop you feel you’re being. though, you look into eren’s eyes, and see nothing but the purest love and adoration overflowing from his pupils, and you know—he thinks you’re doing perfect. “just, wait until after ten at least, okay? that old couple next door already has us on their shit list.”

“course, ‘m sorry baby,” he hums—cupping your cheek with a grin that’s a little too smug and out of place to be there right now. “but you know, you got us on that list, not him.”

“me?” you tilt your head, racking your brain for a time in which you might’ve pissed them off. did you forget to hold the door open? shit.

“mhmm,” he hums, moving his hand to the back of your head to hold you flush against him, and you look adorable—in the reflection of the mirror, with your little thinking face on and your cheek squished against him. he almost feels guilty.

“what did i—”

“nghhh eren, that feels soooo good,” he moans, quiet and sultry—changing the pitch of his voice slightly in an attempt to mimic your own.

“eren!” you gasp, planting your palms flat on his chest to push him away. “shut up, you’re the only reason i sound like that.”

“damn right,” he grins, pulling you right back in for a messy kiss—hands sneaking underneath your shirt and travelling up your—

crash.

“oh no,” you mumble, peeling yourself away from him once more. your son—who’s been alone and suspiciously quiet for the last five minutes, is now doing god knows what in the kitchen. “go check on your satan spawn, would you?”

“hey,” he frowns, swiftly backing out of the room and towards the noise, but not without putting on a quick smile to clarify, “our satan spawn.”

you roll your eyes, but still feel the corners of your lips tug upwards. eren is far from perfect, but he’s pretty good at keeping a smile on your face too.

#izurou #eren x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot x reader #eren x you #eren yeager x reader #snk x reader #eren fluff

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