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rafecameronssl4t · 3 months ago

Note

I LOVED the “Who invited you?” one, so i was thinking… maybe a Thornton!reader x season 3!rafe, where Rafe and reader are secretly dating and reader tells about it to sofia, not knowing she had a crush on Rafe, so she tells everything to Topper

Stay in your lane || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: so sorry this took me forever to reply to but hope you like it!!! added my own little twist in the end reminder that requests are open!!!!

Warnings: mentions of smoking, suggestive content, if theres anything else, lmk!

Word count: 1,884

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

As you step into the country club, the cool air conditioning providing instant relief from the summer heat, you're greeted by a familiar face. "Hey," Sofia's voice carries a warm, welcoming tone as she catches your attention. Her honey-coloured hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail, and she looks every bit the part in her crisp, white polo shirt.

"Sofia, right?" you say with a smile, sliding your sunglasses up onto your head. She nods with a bright smile, her eyes sparkling. "That's me! And you're Y/n, Topper's sister," she says confidently, her gaze lingering on you for a moment as if to commit your face to memory.

"Yeah, that's right," you reply, your tone light and friendly as you confirm her guess. "Can I get you a table?" she offers, her hand subtly gesturing towards the dining area where groups of people are already seated, enjoying their meals and conversations.

You shake your head gently, your smile widening. "Oh no, I'm here with someone," you explain, a hint of warmth in your voice. Sofia's expression shifts as her lips form a small 'o' of understanding. "Well, enjoy!" she responds, her smile returning, though there's a hint of something else in her eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or intrigue.

You reciprocate her smile, offering a small wave before you turn to walk away. As you move towards the back of the club, you can feel Sofia's gaze following you, her attention unwavering until you disappear from sight.

Sofia stepped into the secluded section of the country club, balancing a tray of drinks with practiced ease. The chatter of the main dining area faded behind her as she ventured deeper into the quieter, more exclusive part of the club. As she approached the table, she quickly recognised you sitting there, and a curl of smoke caught her eye, obscuring the person seated across from you.

"Iced tea and a Westbrook?" Sofia announced as she drew closer, her voice steady. But as she placed the drinks on the table, her eyes widened in surprise as she finally saw who you were with—Rafe Cameron, his presence unmistakable.

“Thanks, Sof,” you responded warmly, your smile reaching your eyes as you accepted the glass of iced tea from the tray. Sofia’s attention drifted towards Rafe, who sat across from you with an air of nonchalance. He casually exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke, his intense blue eyes never leaving you as he flicked the ashes into the nearby ashtray.

His gaze was unwavering, almost possessive, as he watched you, barely sparing Sofia a glance. It was clear that his focus was entirely on you, as if the rest of the world, including Sofia, simply didn’t exist in that moment. The casual way he leaned back in his chair, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, contrasted sharply with the tension in Sofia’s chest.

"Y-you're welcome," Sofia stammered, caught off guard by the sight of the two of you together. She quickly realised that her surprise was showing, and she forced a polite smile before retreating, her mind racing as she walked away, the image of you and Rafe together lingering in her thoughts.

As Sofia made her way outside, she hauled the heavy bags of rubbish towards the bins at the back of the country club. Her thoughts were preoccupied, replaying the scene she had witnessed earlier of you with Rafe. The image of the two of you together lingered in her mind, stirring a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite pin down.

Lost in these thoughts, something in the parking lot suddenly caught her attention—Rafe Cameron’s truck parked in the parking lot. Her steps faltered as she saw you step down from the passenger side, a playful smile on your lips as you tugged your dress back into place.

Sofia’s heart raced, and without thinking, she ducked behind a nearby tree, hoping to remain unnoticed. Peeking out from her hiding spot, she watched as Rafe emerged from the car, his confident smirk evident even from a distance.

He moved towards you with a casual grace, his hand trailing down your back before giving your ass a light, possessive squeeze. The gesture was intimate, familiar, as if this wasn't the first time he'd done it. Then, Rafe leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that seemed to linger just a little too long.

Sofia could feel her chest tighten as she observed the scene, her mind reeling from the implications. She watched as he then walked you to your Porsche, his hand resting on the small of your back, guiding you with ease.

He opened the driver's door for you, the gesture almost gentlemanly, before leaning in for one last kiss. The way you smiled at him before driving off sent a pang of something unidentifiable through Sofia’s chest—jealousy? Surprise? Disbelief? Maybe all three.

As your car disappeared from view, Sofia’s eyes remained glued to Rafe. Just as she was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he suddenly turned his head in her direction, as if sensing her presence. Panic surged through her as she let out a quiet gasp, instinctively slapping a hand over her mouth and pressing herself harder against the rough bark of the tree.

She remained frozen, barely daring to breathe, until she heard the roar of Rafe’s engine as he sped off. Only then did she dare to move, her heart pounding in her chest. Of course, you and Rafe were together. The thought settled heavily in her mind, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. It was almost expected, yet seeing it with her own eyes was something else entirely.

"Hey, Sof," you greet her with a warm smile as you walk up to the bar and take a seat. Sofia returns the smile, but there's a slight tension in her expression, a tightness that you don't seem to notice. "Hey, what can I get you?" she asks, her voice pleasant but lacking its usual warmth.

"An iced tea will be fine, thanks," you reply, settling into your seat. Sofia nods and begins preparing your drink. As she works, your phone buzzes, drawing your attention. Sofia can't help but eavesdrop as you answer it. "Hey," you say into the phone, your lips curving into a smile as you listen to the person on the other end.

"Yeah, 1 p.m. is fine." Sofia continues making your iced tea, her curiosity piqued, wondering who you're talking to. When the call ends, you smile at Sofia, who quickly averts her eyes, focusing on placing a straw into your glass before pushing it across the bar towards you.

"Thank you," you say, taking a sip of the iced tea. You then pick up your phone again, your fingers tapping away as another smile forms on your lips, seemingly in response to a message. Sofia, now cleaning some glasses nearby, can't hold back her curiosity any longer.

"So… you and Rafe, huh?" she asks, her tone laced with subtle intrigue as she glances over at you. You look up from your phone, a light giggle escaping your lips. "Yeah?" you respond, a bit amused by her question. Sofia purses her lips, nodding as she tries to process this new information, a flutter of jealousy stirring in her chest.

"I didn't know you guys were dating," she continues, her voice careful, as if trying to gauge your reaction. You hum softly, playing with the straw in your glass. "Between you and me, we were friends with benefits for a while before he asked me out properly," you admit with a small, almost secretive smile.

Sofia nods, doing her best to hide her surprise, but there's a flicker of something in her eyes—disbelief, maybe even a touch of envy that she quickly tries to suppress. Her mind races, wondering how she missed the signs, and why the thought of you with Rafe unsettles her so much.

"Does Topper know?" she asks, her tone slightly more pointed as she looks at you. Your eyes snap to hers, and for a moment, the air between you feels charged with something unspoken, a tension that Sofia struggles to ignore.

"No, he doesn't know yet. We'll tell him soon enough, though," you reply, your voice steady. "Right now, he just thinks we're really good friends." Sofia hums in response, trying to mask the pang of jealousy as she watches you return to your phone, clearly engrossed in your conversation with Rafe.

You finish your drink and stand up, offering Sofia a warm smile. "Thanks for the drink, it was so good," you say sincerely before turning and walking off, leaving Sofia standing behind the bar, her thoughts racing as she watches you disappear from view.

When Sofia caught sight of Topper and Rafe walking into the country club, her heart began to race, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety flooding her system. The two of them made an imposing pair, effortlessly commanding attention as they approached the bar.

Sofia's gaze followed their every step, her pulse quickening when Rafe’s eyes met hers. He held her gaze for a brief moment before leaning in to whisper something to Topper. Without a word, Rafe then turned and walked outside, leaving Topper alone at the bar.

"Just my usual, thanks. Make it two," Topper said, leaning casually against the polished wood. His tone was indifferent, his eyes lazily scanning the room as if the bar and its staff were just another part of the scenery. Sofia nodded, accustomed to his detached manner, and began preparing the drinks.

As she worked, she stole a glance at Topper, feeling a sudden surge of boldness. Clearing her throat, she decided to speak up. "Y/N's not joining the two of you tonight?" she asked, her voice steady despite the nerves bubbling underneath.

Topper’s attention snapped back to her, his brows knitting together in mild confusion. A dry chuckle escaped his lips, the sound laced with a hint of amusement. "And what makes you think my little sister should be here with us?" he asked, his tone edged with curiosity as he watched her skillfully mix the drinks.

Sofia felt her confidence grow, fueled by the moment and the subtle power shift she sensed. She met his gaze head-on, refusing to be intimidated. "I'm not sure, I just thought she'd join you guys since she and Rafe are a couple now," she replied, trying to sound nonchalant as she shrugged her shoulders.

For a brief second, Topper went silent, and Sofia braced herself for his reaction. She expected surprise, maybe even a flash of anger or disbelief. But instead, Topper's response was cold and indifferent, his expression unreadable. "Don't see why that concerns you, Sofia," he said, his eyes drifting towards the view outside, his interest in the conversation fading as quickly as it had sparked.

Sofia's eyes widened, not prepared for his dismissive tone. "Oh, no—I was just wondering—" she stammered, her initial confidence rapidly dissolving under his gaze. Topper’s stare sharpened, cutting her off before she could finish. "I think you forget yourself sometimes," he said, his voice chillingly calm.

"Just because you work here in Figure 8, it doesn't give you the right to go sticking your nose in our business, yeah? So stay in your lane," He grabbed the glasses she had just finished preparing, his hand steady, his demeanor cold.

With that, he walked off without another glance, leaving Sofia standing there, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She hadn’t expected Topper to speak to her like that—so harshly, so dismissively. The words stung, lingering in the air long after he had disappeared, and Sofia was left alone.

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lis-likes-fics · 1 year ago

Text

At the End of the Day

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x wife!Reader Word Count: 4k words Kink: Cockwarming Warnings: NSFW, smut, arguing, unprotected sex, fingering, desk sex, creampie, swearing... A/N: Nothing much to say for this one. Hope you enjoy and thank you! <3

He’s stuck behind his desk. Again. He’s got his pen in hand and a multitude of papers sprawled out on his desk as he works and works and works.

He’s been like this all week, buried under paperwork as you handle the children and the maids and the rest of the family. When he isn’t behind his desk, he’s out on business with Polly or his brothers or at a social event with you for the same business as Polly and his brothers. You could properly count on two hands the number of minutes he’s spent with the children or with you collectively.

You miss him. The kids miss him. You hate that he has to work so much.

“Tommy,” you whisper from the doorway of his office, knocking on the heavy door quietly as you look at him.

He hums deeply but doesn’t look up. Stuck in his work, he takes a drink from his glass and keeps his pen moving. His cigarette is still smoking in the ashtray set to the side, not quite finished yet. You sigh, saying his name again. Not so sweetly this time. “Thomas.”

He sighs and looks up, but his pen is still set firmly between his fingers. “Yes, dear?” he responds. He’s exhausted, you can tell, but he’s good at pretending he isn’t. You’re just better at knowing that he is. You stay by the door, looking at him as your eyes dart down to his pen. He looks down at it and sighs.

Tommy sets down his pen, a peace offering. He gestures toward you. “Come. Come in.”

You step forward, taking your time in coming into his office as you close the door gently behind you. You approach his desk, and he watches you walk toward him and come to a stop. You lean on the dark wood, your fingers pressing into it as you look at him.

“The children miss you,” you speak gently.

He hums, picking up his pen again. “I’ll tuck them in tonight.”

“Too late. They’re already in bed.” You sigh when he begins writing, rolling your eyes.

“Well,” he mutters, “that’s that, isn’t it?”

You clench your jaw, your eyes fluttering at the audacity of his words. You hum, watching as he writes, the sound of pen scratching paper filling the room as he gets back to work. He hadn’t even lasted a minute. You should know, you counted. He made it thirty-eight seconds between putting down his pen and letting it touch his hand once more.

“When I tucked in August tonight–” you snatch the pen forcefully out of his hand, ignoring the way he sighs as you slap it down onto the desk and look at him. It takes him a moment to look you in the eyes so you would continue, “–he asked if he’d done something wrong. He asked me if Daddy still loves him and his sister.”

In his eyes, you can see the regret beginning to blossom there. But as quickly as it comes, he’s masked once again in exhaustion and duty. “I–”

“I’m not finished,” you interrupt. He glances away but immediately looks back at you, knowing you won’t speak unless he’s looking in your eyes. “Delia wants to know why Daddy doesn’t brush her hair after she wakes up anymore. She said she’s scared that you got tired of her.”

That hurts him even more. His jaw twitches as he processes. “My–”

“I am still not finished.”

He sighs. With a shrug, he says, “We’ve only got two children.”

You close your eyes, clenching your jaw once more to show your frustration. He doesn’t speak again, allowing you the floor. “And you’ve got one wife who wants to know why you’re letting business come before family. Family above all else, that’s what it is. That’s what the whole fucking family is about, Tommy.”

He waits a moment to know if you’ll speak again, not wanting to interrupt you and feed your anger. He speaks slowly, “I’ll take the children into town tomorrow. We’ll spend time together.”

“And then you’ll go back to work.”

“I work for them, for you,” he says, his voice raising a bit. “I do all of this to keep you all safe and happy.”

You sigh, chuckling lightly as you shake your head. “Tommy, the kids are happier when they get to see their father. Spending time with them for a single day and disappearing for another month isn’t going to make them fucking happy!”

He doesn’t want to fight with you. He understands what you’re saying, and he’s frustrated that his efforts are not being understood, but he doesn’t want to fight. He looks at you, and he can see that you’re just as tired as him. He sighs, backing down before you both end up in a screaming match. Screaming at each other won’t fix anything.

He rubs his eyes and picks up his glass, taking a sip from it and setting it down gently in hopes of easing his nerves. He looks at you, staying quiet for a long time. You take his silence for what it is, a moment to breathe. So you take a breath and lift your hand, removing the crushing weight of your palm from his pen. He doesn’t look at it.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I’ll spend more time with the kids. They shouldn’t be missing their father.”

You sigh, looking around the room in an effort to level your voice. “It’s not just them who’s missing you, Tom.” You look back at him. “We don’t even sleep in the same room anymore. You’re always down here on this fucking couch or back in Small Heath on ‘business’. I can’t remember the last time you held me, the last time you touched me.”

He sighs. You watch his shoulders fall. “Come here,” he bids softly.

You shake your head, removing your hands from his desk and taking a step back. “No.”

“Come here,” he says again, not as softly.

You blink away from him, a heavy sigh leaving you as you make yourself move. You walk toward him, rounding the desk to his side. He reaches a hand out to your side. You begin to jerk away from him, but he’s not having it. He pulls you in, both hands on your hips as he turns his chair to face you.

Tommy looks up at you, resting his chin on your belly as his thumbs caress your sides. It feels good. Really good, you almost melt into his touch. But you don’t want to give him the satisfaction as you place your hands over his and pretend like you’re trying to push him away. He’s unconvinced, but he plays along.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. Two sorries in one night…you must have won the lottery. “I know you don’t want to hear me say it…but I have a little more work to finish tonight–” you go to push him off with a scoff, but he holds you tightly and raises his voice a bit above your frustration, “–and then I will tend to your needs. I promise you.”

“Tommy–”

“I promise,” he insists.

You look at him, wanting to be angry but finding yourself helpless at the sight of his normally cold eyes staring up at you with more warmth than anyone else—besides his children—would ever receive. You sigh heavily, rubbing your temples and refusing to look at him as you speak. “Fine.”

He actually smiles, breathing a gentle laugh. “As a matter of fact,” one of his hands slides down your side and ducks underneath your nightgown, “I can do two things at once.”

He pushes your panties to the side with his fingers and presses his thumb to your clit. Your hips jerk away from him at the sudden touch and you speak, annoyed that your voice comes out as a whisper. “Tommy.”

“Shh,” he kisses your belly over your gown. “Let me take care of you.”

He slides his fingers over your folds, swiping back and forth along the length of them before slipping between them. Your eyes flutter at the feeling, leaning into his touch a little more as his thumb continues to tease you. You set your hands on his shoulders, holding yourself steady as he watches you react to him.

You moan slightly when his finger pushes inside of you, parting your lips to delve deeper. He works it into you as the arousal begins to seep. “Good girl,” he bids, feeling you begin to slick up for him, just enough for him to add a second finger inside you. You grip his shoulders a little tighter.

He pumps them slowly, massaging inside you as you begin to move your hips to the rhythm. You’re becoming faster than you would have liked, enjoying his touch too much after being without it for too long. “Tommy,” you whisper, a little whinier now that he’s got you worked up. He can see your nipples poking through your gown now.

“Just like that, come on,” he whispers. “Get nice and wet for me.”

His voice washes over you like velvet. You find yourself succumbing to him. You lean against him, into his touch, accepting his truce. His thumb massages your clit some more, making sure you’re nice and ready for him as he feels his cock stiffening in his pants.

After a moment, he pulls his fingers out of you. You grunt, your frustration returning at the loss of stimulation. You open your eyes and look at him again. You huff. “If you want me calm, this isn’t the way to do it.”

He chuckles, reaching a hand toward his belt as he begins to undo it. He just tells you to hush (in a kinder way) and pulls his cock out as he fixes his seat. You consider for a moment before relenting. You bring one leg over him, hovering over his lap in a straddle. You watch him as you grab his cock and line it up with your pussy, slowly sinking down on him and closing your eyes at the pleasant stretch. You moan gently. He breathes a little heavier, his hands on your waist tightening as you take him deeper and deeper.

When you’re sitting in his lap, you both let out a relieved sigh as you rest your forehead on his shoulder. You stifle a moan and begin to grind your hips, but he quickly stops you with his hands gripping your waist. You huff, but it comes out as a whine. “What?”

“I still have to work, darling.” “You can work later,” you argue.

He chuckles breathily. “Yes, but I’ll be able to pay more attention to you if this gets done first.” He raises his hands to your face, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks. “You’ve just got to sit there and be still. I’ll take good care of you.”

You try not to pout. It would be too bratty, and you need him to take you seriously. But you do pout, and he does think you’re bratty, and he takes you seriously anyway. “How long is this going to take?”

He glances at the papers on his desk and considers for a moment. “Ten minutes.”

You roll your eyes and groan. “Hurry up.”

He kisses your jaw and retrieves his pen, tapping your bottom and telling you to be a good girl while he works. You sit and wait, keeping yourself still with more trouble than you think it's worth as the stagnant stretch of his cock feeds your hunger and refuses to quench it.

He braces his hand on your back as he works. You rest your head in the crook of his shoulder, your fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his neck.

When you grind your hips absent-mindedly, searching for some friction, he lightly smacks you with a low grunt. “Stop moving.” You hum lightly, refusing to apologize but choosing to listen.

He's so warm, and he fills you so well. The urge to roll your hips once more fills your thighs, but you remain as still as you can, little moans and whimpers in his ear acting as your only act of defiance. He was thick, sitting so deep inside you as you clenched to feel him pulse.

It's been too long. You don't know how much time has passed, but you're reaching your limit as your desire for him after being neglected for too long grew to unthinkable depths. He's right here. You might as well take what you can.

“How long has it been?” you complain, pulling away to look at his face.

He doesn't look at you, but you can see the slight turn of the corner of his lips as he replies. “Nearly finished.”

“How much is nearly?” you question, raising a brow at him.

He turns his eyes on you. “Nearly.”

But you're sick of waiting. You need something, anything, right here and now before you keel over dead. You roll your eyes, “That's enough for me.”

You roll your hips atop his lap, moaning deeply in your throat at the pleasure that blossoms at the feeling. He grunts, holding your hip tighter and gripping the pen as though it were a lifeline.

“Love, I–”

Your words lift from a moan as you shake your head. “No,” you take his pen once more and toss it across the room, “I'm more important than whatever it is you're working on. Otherwise you would have sent me away the moment you could.” You take his face in your hands and pull him close to yours, your lips just barely touching, your voice low and frustrated. “It's my turn.”

He stares at you, awaiting your next move in silence. But you don't move, against your greater impulses, you sit still and stare back.

His lips crash against yours, a bruising kiss that begs your attention just as much as yours begs his. You moan into his mouth as his hands tighten around your hip and hold the base of your head.

He grunts into you, enjoying the taste of your lips as he guides your hips, grinding you down on top of him as he devours you.

The pleasure is quick to overtake you, sinking into every limb and flicking at every nerve. You're dripping onto his lap as you lift yourself up on shaky legs. The puddle of slick you've created just from sitting there for who-knows-how-long would be embarrassing if you hadn't been in this position so many times, being filled up by Tommy's cock.

You lift yourself until the tip of him is embedded inside you, the flex of your thighs making you tighter as you do. When you drop back down it forces rough moans from both of you as you grip onto one another for dear life.

You do it again, setting a rhythm as the electric feeling of the thrusts spreads through you. The sound of your thighs smacking into his lap fills the room with the steady pace, creating a sinful beat for your love to keep time with.

And the bliss of finally being tended to is good, but it isn't enough. You need more.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bury your face in his neck, moaning meekly and rolling your hips. “Tommy,” you whimper, your voice a gentle plea, a helpless whisper, an innocent manipulation. “Tommy, I need you.”

He tries not to shudder at the way you sound, pleading in his ear. He holds you tighter.

“What do you need, darling?” His voice is rough and full of breath, eager to smell your perfume and taste the liquor on your lips.

“More,” you hum, followed by another whimper only half-real as you grind yourself once more. “I need more.”

He knows what you're doing. He knows all your tricks, all the little ways you get him to do exactly what you want. He knows the voice you use, the breaths you take, the way your eyes focus on him, the way you hold him just a little differently. He knows everything.

But at the end of the day, he is just a man who loves his wife. A man who would do anything to see her happy.

He strokes a hand down the back of your hair, his parted lips passing shallow breaths. Nevertheless, he pulls you from his shoulder. “I'm not giving you anything until you say ‘please’.”

You lick your bottom lip between your teeth, stifling a moan as you decide whether or not you'll obey. But you do. With your palms at the sides of his neck, you speak. “Please, Tommy,” you beg softly. “Please give me more.”

He considers you, stalling just to make you squirm before picking you up and putting you on the desk, ignoring the pages and pages he lays you on. They're mostly done. He'll finish them eventually and let them go to whoever it needs to go to, still smelling of sex and the perfume you wear if it must. He doesn't care, he just needs you.

He holds you by the back of your legs, kissing the side of your knee as he stares at you the whole time. You watch him fondly, your breath shallow in your chest. He slips his hands down your thighs to hold your hips, lining himself back up with you and sinking inside once again.

Your eyes close and you purse your lips, a moan slipping through at the feeling. He presses himself inside you, rubbing against that deep part of you that makes your eyes roll. “Mm, Tommy.”

He sighs deeply, pulling out and pushes back in to set a steady pace. He starts with long, slow strokes that eventually build into a slew of quick, rough thrusts. You moan as you lay your head back against the desk, closing your eyes and trying to stay quiet as you gripped the desk behind your head. Your limbs tingle with the feeling of the pleasure spreading throughout your system. You clench around his cock and bury your face in your arms. You wrap your legs around his waist and bite your lower lip with the smallest grunts.

“Come on, love,” he rasps, his hair disheveled and his breath rough with exertion and desire. “You wanted this, don’t hide from me.” He reaches one hand out to gather your wrists in his palm. “Moan for me, darling. Look at me.”

You bring your attention to his face, your lashes fluttering with each little thrust inside your quivering pussy. You release your bottom lip from your teeth, setting free more whimpers and whines as your back rubs against the wood of his desk, the rock of his hips having you bouncing atop it.

He looks pretty. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide with lust as he gazes upon your body. For a moment, he wonders if he should take off your gown to see your naked body beneath him. But if he has to pull out of you before he’s finished, heads will roll. “Is this what you want? Eh?” he wonders aloud, letting go of your wrists to place your legs over his shoulders. You reach forward just enough to grab his waist, holding him close as the pleasure builds to wavering heights in both of you.

He presses his thumb to your clit, pulsing and in need of stimulation. “You needed me to fuck you nice and rough? Make it all up to you, eh?”

You nod sloppily, not paying too much attention to what he says as the pleasure gets closer and closer to that so desperately needed release. Your thighs tremble, the delicious shocks of desire bringing them to life as he continues to fuck into you.

“Tommy,” you gasp, dropping into a moan at the end of his name. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“You are, eh?” he teases, rubbing your clit just a little faster. “Have you said ‘please’?”

You mewl, helpless as you obey simply for your own satisfaction. He’s got you laying on his desk with his cock shoved in your cunt, and you’re moaning for him like the whores he used to fuck, but you’re still mad at him, even if you still love him with everything you’ve got.

“Please,” you moan. “Please let me cum, Tom.”

He grunts as he accepts, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he keeps on. “Alright,” he says. “Go on, love.”

The pleasure rises within you until you can’t hold it in anymore. With a thrust of his hips and a flick of his thumb, you fall apart as you close your eyes and lay your head back, your lips parting with a loud moan to let his name slip from your lips like honey. Your thighs tremble, your pussy flutters around him and pushes him over the edge.

A rough groan, bordering on a growl, erupts from his throat as he shoves his cock as deep inside you as he’ll go, grinding his hips to bury himself there. “Fuck,” he curses, your name rumbling in his chest. He spills inside you, rolling his hips into you as he does to fill you up with his warm spend. Your body tenses as you accept him, your lungs full of breath as your whimpers bleed into each little sigh until you feel the pleasure beginning to wane in the tingling of your toes.

He leans forward, towering over your body as his hips continue to thrust into you, his lips finding the junction of your neck and shoulders to taste your skin against his tongue. His kisses embed themselves in the fabric of your skin until they reach your lips, eager to slot into their natural place and become whole once more. The sounds he muffles into your mouth borders on a moan as his eager thrusts slow against the sensitivity of your pussy still coming down from your high.

You both linger there moments after you’ve returned to the earth through obligation. When you’ve come to yourself enough, wrap your arms around his neck and let out a long sigh, releasing the deep breath you’d taken moments before.

“Fuck,” you curse on a sigh, carding your fingers through his hair.

Tommy pulls his face from the crook of your neck and kisses you again, long and slow and almost possessive. He leans back to see your face, bringing his fingers up to brush them over your forehead, looking fondly into your eyes and searching your face for all of his favorite little features.

He sighs. “I don’t say it enough,” he says, his voice low and gentle and sincere. You stare back at him, stroking your knuckles along his jaw. “I love you, wife.” Your noses bump. You breathe each other’s air.

You breathe a little laugh, humming lightly. “No, you don’t say it enough.” You close the gap to kiss him again, a quicker kiss. “I’ll make sure you do.” You don’t return it, but he can see it in your eyes that you do, you do love him. He can see in your eyes just how much you can’t measure it. You don’t have to say it. He knows.

He taps your side, breaking away from you as he pulls out with a small sigh. He takes your hand and helps you to sit up. As you do, you take hold of his shirt and bring him close to your face. He thinks you’ll kiss him again.

“And, Thomas,” you smile a little, but he can see the threat lingering on your lips before they speak it, “if those words come out of my children’s mouths one more time, I’ll cut your cock off and feed it to you.”

Part of him wants to believe it’s just a threat—you love him (and his cock) too much. The other part knows it isn’t. You love your children more.

He smiles at you, nodding. He laughs as he says, “I love you, woman.”

You sigh on a hum, taking in the sight of his pretty face. “Hm… I know.”

Cillian Murphy taglist: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @goblinjnr @kmc1989 @shelbyism @weepingwitchofthewest @cl-0-vr @thoticious @sinarainbows @the-nerdy-goddess @urmomsgirlfriend1 Tag yourself here...

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader smut #tommy shelby x reader smut #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #10 days of smutmas

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miicapitann · 4 months ago

Text

Yuri Briar x Seme Male Reader

It's impossible to find any male reader fics about Yuri Briar from Spy x family, and I've had some ideas. I figured I may as well write them down, whether they end up being for myself or if others end up enjoying them.. I would like to continue this one, at least.

↜(つ▀¯▀ )つ︻デ┳═ー.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Summary: Yuri Briar finds himself with a new coworker, a mercenary by the codename Snake Eyes. After working with the man once, he finds him to be a few things: incredibly unaware, incredibly efficient, incredibly strong, and kind of hot?? Not that he can see the mercenary's face.. Tall, fully armed, and respecting his sister, whom he hasn't even met? Just Yuri's type!

Walking into his superior's office, Yuri removed his hat with his left hand, held it over his chest, and used his right hand to salute his boss.

"SIR!! How can I help you!" He shouted out, with what his boss interpreted as the enthusiasm of a puppy.

"A man who's been murdering civilians was brought in today; I'm assigning you to interrogate him with the 'officer' who caught him in the room." He paused, his more serious demeanor dropping as he looked up at Yuri, smiling. "You haven't worked with Snake Eyes yet, have you? He's a highly skilled mercenary who we've managed to secure under our belt; you two would get along." His smile changed from a grin as he tapped his cigar into the ashtray on his desk. Sometimes, his demeanor almost seemed like a schoolgirl's..

Yuri was mildly confused. He had never even heard of a mercenary working with the State Security Service, something he questioned his boss about. He was only told that this Snake Eyes fellow handled their most dangerous cases.

"Here's the file on the suspect. You're in charge of the interrogation; Snake Eyes is only there for intimidation tactics and keeping the perp in line. There's a list of what we need to know in the envelope. Do your best, Second-Lieutenant Briar!!" His boss beams at the end, shooing Yuri out to complete the interrogation.

As he walked from his superior's office to the interrogation room, he looked over the file quickly but thoroughly. Usually, he had much more time to brief himself on the situation and the suspect and even gather his own evidence. On this occasion, Yuri hadn't even been aware of a murderer being afoot, though he figured it may have been due to the fact that a case like this was certainly something that the Lieutenant would handle. Or perhaps it was how overworked and exhausted he was that something like this never reached him. Yuri neared the room that the 'scum of the earth murderer' was held in, having read his name to be Halbert Johnson.

'What a terrible name... I can't believe garbage like this walks the same earth as my dear Yor..' He thought to himself; his enraged feelings could be seen clearly on his face. And expression that was clearly seen by the Lieutenant, who walked toward him from in front of the interrogation room.

"Second-Lieutenant Briar." He started. Speaking calmly and controlled. Stiffening, Yuri saluted.

"Lieutenant Sir!" he said, with that puppy-like attitude that his boss had noticed.

The lieutenant had decided that if the interrogation with Halbert went well, not only would Yuri be trusted with more important tasks, but he may be paired with Snake Eyes more if they seemed to work well together. The second 'privilege' being a request of the big man in charge. He walked Yuri back toward the direction that he had come from, toward where the Second-Lieutenant was originally headed, the interrogation room.

"I'm sure you were informed that you would be working with Snake Eyes." He asked. A rhetorical question. "He's the guy in the combat gear. Introduce yourself and begin when you're ready." He finished, walking away right after.

Yuri turned his attention to the man 'in the combat gear' with whom he would be working. His gaze started at the other man's feet, dragging upwards, a climb that seemed to go on forever.

'This guy is gigantic!!' Yuri thought to himself, his emotions, this time shock, evident on his face. This was Snake Eyes.

Snake Eyes was incredibly tall; the top of Yuri's head barely reached the guy's collarbones. He was dressed in combat boots with a visible steel toe, black cargo pants cinched in around his thighs with straps that held heavy-duty weaponry, ranging from combat knives to guns and-

'IS THAT A FUCKING GRENADE??' Yuri wasn't really sure if the other man was allowed to have that, but given the fact that he also wasn't really sure what the station of the other man was other than mercenary, he decided not to question it. He was in the headquarters of the SSS. If he wasn't authorized to have it, he wouldn't.

The straps on the mercenary's thighs connected to a belt that sat around his hips, weaving through the loops on his pants. This belt held more gear, one of which was clearly a pistol. He wore a form-fitting dark green T-shirt, matching the green color of the SSS uniform, underneath a bulletproof vest. His arms were concealed with a long-sleeved black compression shirt that he wore under the T-shirt, and his hands were adorned with black and green gloves with small orange details that seemed to have armored knuckles. Strapped to his back was a submachine gun.

Yuri wasn't sure if he should be more afraid of the submachine gun, the grenades, or perhaps the man himself. But as he looked toward the other's face, finally ready to introduce himself, he noticed that Snake Eyes wore a black balaclava helmet and reflective goggles, his identity completely concealed aside from his eye-catching tall stature. He looked like he could stop a truck bare-handed, or at least, that was what was on Yuri's mind as he stuck his hand out to greet his new coworker or whatever he was.

"Hello, I'm Second-Lieutenant Yuri Briar. It's nice to meet you. I was told we are working together today," he said. his tone was formal, yet the slight confusion and nervousness were pretty evident on his face.

"𝚂𝚗𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜," the other man introduced himself, grabbing Yuri's outstretched hand and giving it an incredibly firm shake but not strong enough to hurt Yuri. "𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞."

The gear he was wearing muffled his voice, enough that Yuri couldn't match the voice if he heard it elsewhere, but not enough to make him unable to hear the other man clearly, and certainly not enough to make him unable to tell how incredibly deep the man's voice was either. What Yuri couldn't make out was any sort of tone in the tall man's speech nor the smile directed at him as they shook hands.

The two of them chatted for a moment, discussing the circumstance and who they were interrogating. This led Yuri to discover that while Snake Eyes was the one who brought Halbert in, he hadn't known the man's name prior to Yuri debriefing him. While he was confused and almost put off by the lack of information that the mercenary had, he sort of admired the fact that he was so committed to protecting the country that he focused on apprehending villains dutifully without worrying about the details, trusting his superiors fully. This was not at all why the other man was so ill-informed. He just didn't care; he was shown a face and given a location, and the rest was history, though it went over much more peacefully than he was used to.

Yuri stepped into the interrogation room first, slipping on his black leather gloves as Snake Eyes followed behind him, ducking through the doorway.

"Mr. Halbert Johnson, a murderer. I'm appalled a disgusting wretch like you was in the same city as my lovely sister." Yuri began.

His love for his sister and his dedication to protecting her showed immediately. Halbert did not respond, being aware that what you don't say cannot be used against you. Yuri settled at the seat across the table from Halbert, though opting to stand, leaning his weight on the table with his arms as he tilted forward toward the suspect, while Snake Eyes stood to Yuri's left, at the end of the table, facing the two of them with his back against the wall and his arms crossed, he said nothing. The other SSS officer in the room was unnamed to the mercenary, but he sat at a separate table directly across from him and faced Snake Eyes, writing down everything that had happened. Yuri continued to intimidate the murder suspect in front of him, making sure he knew that lying and withholding information was not to be tolerated while also very frequently mentioning and praising his beloved sister.

"The body of Patricia Phillips was found at the job site of a construction company that you work for. Significant evidence points in your direction; admit to your crimes." Yuri glared at the angry man in front of him. Seemingly having enough of Yuri's chatter, Halbert stood quickly, raising a fist to punch the Second-Lieutenant and shouting at him.

"FUCK YOU AND YOUR DUMBASS SISTER, I DIDN'T DO SHIT!!" He spat, figuratively and literally, as he put his full force into his fist.

Stepping in quickly, Snake Eyes lifted his arm, gripping Halbert by the face and slamming him down onto the floor where he lay on his back, the mercenary's hand still holding the sides of Halbert's head tightly and forcing him downward, the killer's legs squirming as his hands gripped at the much stronger man's arm desperately. Yuri stood up away from the table, shocked and in a cold sweat from almost being punched.

"𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍-𝙻𝚒𝚎𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚛," Snake Eyes spoke up, his hand squeezing tighter for a moment. "𝙰𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛.." He finished, gripping Halbert from the collar of his shirt, lifting him off of his feet, and tossing him back into his chair. Halbert froze but was forced to speak when a kick hit the leg of the chair he sat in just as the man in combat gear settled back into his position at the end of the table.

"I.." Halbert choked on his words, fear evident on his face. "I'M SORRY!! I'M SURE YOUR SISTER IS LOVELY.. AND INTELLIGENT!! I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING!" He shook.

Yuri was shocked by the entire situation, and the initial act of violence made by Halbert scared him. He could not have reacted fast enough to block it himself, though it would not have injured him too badly. However, he was most baffled by Snake Eyes' actions, not only because he stepped in to protect Yuri but also because he made Halbert apologize for trying to hit him and for insulting his sister. He flushed a bit at that, feeling admiration toward the tall man and secretly loving the fact that he protected him. Yuri cleared his throat, shooing the redness on his cheeks away as much as he could.

"Did you kill Patricia Phi-" He was cut off.

"Yes!" Halbert admitted.

"𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖." Snake Eyes said as he checked the number of bullets in his pistol, effectively giving the criminal a new fear. That fear was him, of course.

"sorry.." Halbert said meekly.

As the short interaction between the man in combat gear and the murderer went down, the officer documenting the whole thing sat stiffly, in secondhand fear of Snake Eyes, while Yuri scolded himself for being attracted to how the man scolded the criminal like a child for interrupting him. No one had ever really defended him or taken care of him like that besides his sister.

"How many others have you killed," Yuri asked cooly, with fake composure, as he thought fondly of the mercenary in the room with him. Halbert hesitated but answered immediately when he heard Snake Eyes cock his gun, something that made every man in the room flinch.

"Thirteen! I-Including the woman!!" Halbert yelped. His attitude significantly changed from the cool and irritated front he had put on when they originally entered the room.

Yuri continued to ask the man questions, discovering the whereabouts of each victim's body, the people Halbert worked with, and the names of the people he had killed, ending the integration, not without Snake Eyes striking fear into everyone in the room a few more times, of course. Exiting the interrogation room, Yuri peeled his leather gloves off, sighing and relaxing his shoulders.

"Thank you for helping with the interrogation. It would have taken impossibly long without you. I doubt we would have gotten so much information out of him, too." Yuri praised the armored man beside him.

"𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔?" Snake Eyes said, leaning down to speak closer to his ears. He did not like to raise his voice much. He was confused at what the smaller man was talking about. Yuri was baffled, not understanding how the mercenary was unaware of all the help he provided.

"He wouldn't have talked if he wasn't so afraid of you. You destroyed his confidence." He smiled up at the other, placing a hand appreciatively on the man's bicep.

He almost flinched at the feeling of the other's muscled arm underneath his hand. Sure, his undershirt was skin-tight, and his T-shirt was relatively form-fitting as well, but even by touching his arm himself, Yuri knew that he could only imagine how shredded Snake Eyes was under all his gear. The mercenary hummed in response to what Yuri had said, probably still somewhat confused. He was about to speak up when the Second-Lieutenant spoke again.

"So, where does the codename Snake Eyes come from? If it's okay to ask.." He trailed off, suddenly fidgety and nervous. His face reddened as the pause in the conversation grew.

"𝙸 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜.." The man admitted, feeling a little foolish for his reasoning. "𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜." he continued.

There was a short pause. Yuri was processing what had happened, surprised by how much he was willing to talk to him, given that he had been warned that the man was usually very quiet. He was snapped out of his jumbled thoughts when the taller laughed.

"𝙸 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚍. 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗." He finished. Yuri blushed heavily and sputtered for a moment before he could speak clearly.

"I-I think it makes sense to protect yourself and your family. Well, I'm a little confused about using it in the SSS, but you are a mercenary!" He fidgeted as he spoke, afraid of scaring the other away with the things he said.

"𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎... 𝙰𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎, 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘�� 𝚖𝚎..." He trailed off for a moment. "𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 (𝚈/𝙽) 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑." He gave his real name, for once seeming nervous himself.

Yuri was ecstatic that (Y/N) had decided that he trusted him enough to give his real name; he rolled the name through his head over and over, repeating it in his thoughts, even analyzing it, 'Where was it from? Certainly not Ostania.' he thought.

"Ah! You can call me Yuri; there's no need for the Second-Lieutenant stuff!!" he stuttered. An intense blush rushed to his face, spreading to his ears and the back of his neck. As he stumbled around with his words, (Y/N) undid the clip on his helmet and pushed it back a bit, leaning down and pressing his forehead against Yuri's.

"𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚔? 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚍." He said, removing one of his gloves, the velcro sending a crackling sound through the air as he pressed his bare hand against the back of Yuri's neck. Though some of the man's hair and skin were revealed at this moment, Yuri saw none of it. The blush spread down his shoulders and even appeared on his fingertips as his entire body went hot. He Passed out.

(2,623 words)

#yuri briar #spy x family #spy x family x reader #seme male reader #dom male reader #top male reader #male reader #x male reader #yuri briar x male reader

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thehighladywrites · 7 months ago

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lowered inhibitions.

pairing: plug azriel x reader

summary: Your cousins Eris and Lucien throw a party celebrating their father’s death. All of their close allies and friends show up. You meet Azriel, the hot, stranger who offers you a test of his personal stash. Of course he helps you smoke it too.

warnings: 18+, smut, fucking literally everywhere, tension, weed, smoking, drugs, weapons, criminal underworld, it’s all very cool, everyone is dabbling in some sort of illegal activity, weapons dealers, drug dealers, azriel becoming hypnotized by you

amara’s note: part one to the dealer diaries, pls lovelies don’t mind this omg

next episode! — cop cassian arrests you for selling drugs, so you seduce him into letting you go

series masterlist

Azriel is one of the top plugs in Prythian, always at every party, lounging on the couch with his legs spread, a blunt held between his thumb and pointer fingers.

Customers always hang around him, casually buying bags of weed and pills from him at every event.

Tonight, the Vanserra brothers have decided to throw a massive party celebrating their father's passing and the brothers taking over the business—it was definitely a cause for celebration.

The entire city was invited, so that's how Azriel finds himself in the corner of their penthouse, surrounded by his friends and allies. A table adorned with pills, weed, and alcohol— some from Azriel's inventory, some from Rhysand’s — stood prominently, ready to fuel the night's festivities.

Tonight’s party have made Azriel sell a ton of product, raking in well over his regular profit. He feels tempted to leave, considering he has tripled what he usually earns in just a single night. And as one of the most successful plugs in the city, Azriel makes serious money.

At last, he decides to stay a few more minutes, perhaps to scan the place for more potential clients. His eyes are bloodshot and low-lidded as they lazily scan the room before landing on you.

His eyes widen fractionally as he takes you in, dressed in a pretty little skirt and top. Without a doubt, you are the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. As you smoke with Feyre, he can't help but wonder about you, since he haven't seen you before—surely he would have noticed you.

“Yo, why are you staring at my cousin like that?” Lucien's questioning voice pulls Azriel out of his trance. He takes a drag from his blunt, inhaling deeply as he watch you hit a dab pen, before finally tearing his gaze away to look at Lucien.

“You're dreaming,” he says, trying to appear unaffected by the tiny bit of information he receive.

Cassian and Rhys exchange knowing glances with Lucien and Eris, all four males on the verge of bursting into laughter at Azriel's useless attempt to appear unbothered.

“Yeah, right. You're undressing her with your sneaky eyes,” Cassian tease, snatching the blunt from Azriel's fingers, inhaling and doing tricks.

Azriel narrows his eyes at him before snatching it back, taking one final drag before stubbing it out in the ashtray.

“I'm not doing anything, dickhead. I'm just looking for clients,” he retort, trying to play it cool.

Eris snorts, downing his glass of amber liquid. “Don’t go 'looking for clients' in my cousin. She’s very sweet, so if you're serious, try your luck. Otherwise, don’t,” Eris says, his tone growing serious.

Both he and Lucien are extremely fond of you, viewing you as a little sister, especially since your mother, their aunt, had passed away a few years ago.

—

A thick, yellow-tinted cloud of fog fills the room, your eyes low-lidded and bloodshot as you take a drag from the blunt, the aroma filling the air.

You are well aware of what your cousins do for a living, the illegal business they run, but you have always stayed out of it. For generations, your family have been in the weapons industry, illegally selling and distributing weapons to whomever paid the hefty sum.

Lucien and Eris make sure to keep that part out of your life, even though all of you know where the money came from.

You don’t care about any of it, and it is easy to evade guilt, especially since your friend Feyre and her family are also deeply involved in the criminal underworld of Prythian.

"Involved" is an understatement—the Vanserra’s, Feyre and Rhysand’s family, and five other families are the top 0.1% of the city, with their fingers in every business imaginable.t

To avoid raising suspicions, money still have to flow in legally. Casinos, nightclubs, bars, restaurants, and hotels are just a few of the ventures almost everyone in your circle own. It’s a delicate balance between legitimate businesses and the shadowy underworld they operate in.

You smile as you place the fat, neatly rolled blunt between your plump lips, taking another drag. The head glows orange, the paper dissolving into ash as you slowly inhale the smoke, giggling softly at Feyre’s horrible jokes. You inhale again, holding the smoke in your lungs before exhaling it slowly through your nose, enjoying the tranquil haze settling over you.

When you smoke, it's like slipping into a realm of carelessness, freedom, and pure relaxation. It's a sensation that washes over you, freeing your mind from the everyday life.

And you love that sinful feeling. You love it so much, that you can’t help but bring the blunt to your lips for another drag.

Sure it was unhealthy and very harmful, but damn it felt good.

“That’s your second blunt, you good?”

With a dramatic sigh, you meet her eyes, putting it out so you didn’t green out.

“I’m sad, Fey. Because my stash’s running low and my plug is a fucking asshole who has shitty prices for shitty weed. I need to find someone else.”

“I don’t know why you bother with this cheap shit, babe. If you need a new plug, I know a guy. Good prices, quality products. I swear one blunt is enough for me and Rhys to share. We always get ours from him; he’s a brother to us,” Feyre chimes in, her voice cheery.

You perk up at the possibility of finding a new source, intrigued by the promise of better quality. You staywith your current plug because you don’t have the heart to stop buying from him. Honestly, you’re loaded so you can afford amazing things but you still felt bad. But you were desperate now and as much as you liked your plug, you needed something new.

“He's actually here, he’s the one sitting next to Cassian and Eris. Want me to call him over?” Feyre asks, her voice filled with eagerness to help.

Following her gaze to the table where your cousins sit, your eyes lock with the guy, causing a flutter in your stomach. You trail your gaze over his built body, from top to toe. He is dressed in a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he has one rolled blunt behind his ear and another lit one between his lips., His low eyes are fixed on you with a smirk so small you almost miss it.

The best part about him are the tattoos decorating his neck, arms and hands. You give him a small smile before carefully turning back to Feyre, making sure he can’t read your lips.

“Okay, who is that, where the fuck did he come from? And why the fuck isn’t he on top of me right now?” you whisper urgently to Feyre.

Feyre bursts into laughter, throwing her head back as she slaps your arm playfully.

“That’s Azriel. He grew up with Cassian and Rhys and he’s very chill. And very single, wanna do something about that?” she smiles, looking between you two.

“Do i wanna— of course i do, Fey, hello? What a pretty man, holy fuck.”

You carefully look over your shoulder only to be met with him holding eye contact and standing up, your eyes going up as you follow his height.

Yeah, no way were you letting him slip away.

Feyre quickly whispers into you ear about how you better do something, a little good luck and a kiss on the cheek before she scurries away to Rhysand.

“Hi there.”

You smile as you greet him. “Hi.”

“Where did you get that?”Azriel's deep timber voice sends shivers down your spine as he nods to the blunt between your fingers.

“I bought it from my dealer. Why?” you smile a little as you bring it to your lips.

Azriel smiles right back. His eyes crinkle when he smiles, making him look impossibly more handsome.

“Nah, just lettin’ you know there’s better shit out there.” He reaches behind his ear and hands you a new, neatly rolled blunt.

“Come smoke this with me. If you don’t like it, I won’t bother you again. If you do, let me take you out for dinner,” he raises his eyebrows, a boyish smile on his face as he looks you up and down.

“Fair.”

The eye contact is intense. He looks at you hungrily, making your insides flip.

“What’s your name, beautiful?”

You tell him your name, blushing as he puts his arm on your shoulder, repeating it over and over, your name sounding almost forbidden.

—

“This is really strong,” you cough as you look up at him, handing the blunt back to Azriel.

He puts a hand on your back, rubbing up and down carefully. “You need some help?”

You nod, eyes filling with tears from the potent smoke. Azriel looks you in the eyes as he takes a tattooed hand and inhales the smoke, then lowers his head to yours. He puts his thumb on your chin, opening your mouth as he exhales the smoke into your mouth.

You feel your entire body relax at his touch, on instinct, you get closer and closer to him. The smoke doesn’t feel as intense this way but you still felt the effects.

You also feel like jumping on his dick this second. And Eris won’t mind that you’re using his guest bed right?

“You feeling good, pretty girl?”

“I feel really, really good,” you let out a sigh of content, turning your body to face him.

“You look good, ” you addwith lower inhibitions, watching him with a hazy gaze as you take in his deep breaths and flushed cheeks. His sweat-dampened skin glistened under the ambient light as his words rolls around your clouded mind.

“Yeah? How good do i look?”

—

Okay, it’s not really insane that you got high and fucked a stranger right? No, of course not. His stroke game is out of this world and he is really nice, so yeah, you gave him head! Then got bent, then got fucked missionary, then against Eris’s wall, then in Lucien’s bathroom, someone’s office and just about anywhere really. The party downstairs never seemed to end and neither did getting fucked either.

—

Your head rolls back as the effects of the drugs make you lightheaded and fuzzy. You’re slowly rolling your hips back and forth, grinding in Azriel’s lap. His warm, large hands grip your soft hips as he guides you.

“I need you in my life, i swear,” he whispers — or think he does. You blink down at him, putting your hands on his chest as you kiss him deeply, sucking and lightly biting his lip.

Azriel puts his arm around your waist, locking you in place as he kisses you back with need, tilting his head a little to the right to go deeper.

“I can’t believe I’ve never met you before. Let me take you out tomorrow night, please.”

“O-okay, that sounds good— oh, wait— fuckkk,” your breathless response turn into whines and broken moans as he thrusts, rocking your body forward as he fucks you from below.

Without hardship, he turns you over on the bed, his hand tracing the walley of your boobs. “Look at you, so beautiful.” Ariel languidly takes a handful of your breasts, tracing a finger on your hardened nipples.

You look up at his sincere eyes, feeling your cheeks heat at his intense gaze. Despite being high himself, there’s so much honesty in his eyes.

“I think you’re just high, Azriel,” you shy away from his hazel eyes, fighting the instinct to hide from him. You had never been looked at the way he looked at you and it was a bit nervrecking.

He chuckles, “High or not, i’m never wrong. Again, you’re a stunner.”

“Didn’t know you were such a sweet talker," you laugh playfully, but he is completely entranced by the way your eyelashes brush against your cheeks with each slow blink. He can’t help but be drawn in, his fingers instinctively tangling in your hair as he leans in to kiss you, utterly captivated by your presence.

Azriel continues to thrust, making your eyes roll. He is determined to make you cum on his cock for the umpteenth time this night. Your sweet noises of pleasure only spur him on, the way your hand find his makes his heart skip a beat aswell.

—

Even though neither of you have met before, it feels right waking up to wake up next to him. You wake up before him, feeling a headache on it’s way so you sneakily throw off the covers to head to the kitchen for some water and some ibuprofen, grabbing whatever item of clothes that is closest to you.

You spot Azriel’s white dress shirt, with the buttons popped off. Your face heats as you remember how hard you had ripped off his shirt.

The shirt is on the floor and you bend down to pick it up, when you do, something thuds to the floor. You turn back around to look down, curiosity piqued.

You cover your mouth with your hand as you see what had dropped to the floor. Hidden under his shirt and pants is a gun. A real-life, very dangerous, very dark, and very scary gun.

Upon closer inspection, you notice it’s one of your family's produced weapons—a very high-quality gun from an exclusive Vanserra collection from last year, relatively new.

Your family exclusively make those guns for the most dangerous, fierce, and powerful people in the world. Only a handful of people even know they exist. If he has one, then he is definitely one of the most important and dangerous men you have encountered.

Feyre did mention he dabbles in the drugs industry but you had expected that he maybe owned a block or two.

Just who on earth did you jump into bed with? And why were you not the least bit concerned about it?

🏷️: @redbleedingrose @readychilledwine @claireswritingcorner @cadiawrites @danikamariewrites @cupidojenphrodite @honeybeefae

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look-at-the-soul · 8 months ago

Text

Every little thing you do- Part 2

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series Master list

Thank you so much for giving this little idea so much love 💕 it means a lot! Thank you for taking the time to read and share your thoughts

Word count: 2,695

The house was quiet, it was probably pretty late by now, but at least the initial commotion was calmer now. Tommy’s eyes focused on the flame flickering on the bedside table, the room was quiet. Then his eyes darted to Y/N… his best friend seemed so vulnerable, so small. He had seen the marks her father left on her back it was a horrible sight and now it looked worse. As if her life wasn’t complicated enough by the unplanned pregnancy, Y/N would have to deal with the physical pain as well.

He studied Y/N’s face for a minute, taking in the swollen eyes from crying too much, his heart aches for her, she didn’t deserve to be treated like this. She held a special place close to his heart since they were kids.

“Do you’ve a minute?” Polly asked.

As she realized the doubt in her nephew’s eyes, she assured him that Y/N would sleep for a while. After cleaning her injuries and adding a strong ointment to the wounds on her back, Polly checked the baby and gave Y/N a tea to help her sleep.

Tommy gave Y/N one more look and covered her arm with the thin sheet, but was careful enough to not hurt her before he walked out of what was once Ada’s room in Watery Lane.

“What happened?” He found Polly downstairs stomping her cigarette on the ashtray. Earlier, she didn’t ask questions, she just rushed to take care of Y/N’s wounds just she had done so many times when they were kids, and eventually teenagers on the brick of trouble every time.

“Y/N is pregnant, the son of a bitch told her he wasn’t sure the baby is his.”

“And that’s why her father hit her like that?!” She asked scandalized. “He’s an animal.”

“How’s the baby, really?” He asked with genuine concern.

Polly sighed. “She was smart to offer her back, so the belt wouldn’t hit in any compromising area, but I’d keep her in bed just in case.” She suggested.

“Tommy,” Scudboat apologized for the interruption, “we found the vehicle, Scott has been hiding in the house, do you want the men to enter and get him?”

Leaning on the counter, Tommy considered his options for a few seconds. “No, keep someone watching his house at all times, he might try to escape.”

As the blinder left him again alone with his aunt, Tommy expressed out loud a decision he had already made.

“We can’t leave her alone Pol.” He clenched his jaw. “She’s on her own, that bastard just used her and her family won’t help her with the baby yo-you saw how they hurt her.”

“I know.” She added breathlessly stopping for a second as she got the kettle. “They turned their backs on her when she needed them the most.”

“Sort a doctor tomorrow morning to make sure they’ll be fine.”

“And then what?” Pol stared at him.

“I just got a house, still needs a few things… I can take Y/N there, because if she stays here, she’ll see her parents all damn day.”

“In the meantime if she needs another place, there’s my house as well.”

Tommy folded his arms against his chest and nodded profusely.

“Poor Y/N… she’ll have a hard time with people pointing fingers at her all the time.” Polly shook her head.

Tommy remembered the long stares and whispers over Ada, when she suddenly got married and started showing no long after. He had been forced to walk around with the gun in his hand for several weeks. They even kicked her out of a boutique once she tried buying a dress and Tommy had to stop by with a few men until his sister got the dress that she wanted.

“I’ll blind anyone who dares to do something against Y/N.” He stated firmly pouring some whiskey finally.

“What happened?” Finn asked looking from his brother to his aunt.

“If anyone asks,” Tommy pointed a finger at him, “you haven’t seen Y/N here alright?”

Finn frowned. “But I haven’t seen her.”

“Exactly.” Tommy agreed walking towards the fireplace, he added a few pieces of wood and then took a seat in front of it. Pondering on the previous events, worry installed on his shoulders of what might happen. Anger spreading on his body at the thought of his best friend being humiliated by her useless boyfriend, after all she had done for the prick and he had the audacity to doubt the baby was his. Thanks to her, Scott got the chance to be a blinder, and with that endless benefits.

One of his men knocked desperately and as Tommy went to see what was happening he heard the best news of the day.

“We followed Scott, he was at the train station.”

He took the remaining of his drink in a swing. “Was?”

“The boys took him to the warehouse, he had a ticket to escape.”

Tommy gave his aunt a look. “If Y/N wakes up, send someone to let me know.”

As Polly saw them disappear, her eyes darted upwards, in a silent prayer. She knew Scott wouldn’t live a day without regretting his decision. Taking her cup of tea with her, she decided to look for some clothes and clean sheets to provide to Y/N while they sorted everything out.

Y/N was considered part of the family, she and Tommy had always been close, in a way Y/N was the only person who could understand her nephew. The one who he trusted the most.

She decided to go to the church the following morning to light a candle and pray for Y/N and the baby.

Taking a deep breath and one of her eyes cracked a bit open. As everything started to hurt so bad, her chest felt heavy as memories from what had happened hit Y/N hard. Word by word her parents had said replayed in her mind.

A single tear rolled down from her eye to her nose. With trembling fingers, Y/N moved one of her hands to the yet non-existent bump. It was still early to start showing but she couldn’t help but think her baby was starting to grow inside her.

Despite the circumstances, Y/N felt like giving her own life for this baby. It didn’t matter that Scott or her family decided to leave her.

Tommy opened the door carefully to not wake Y/N up, but to his surprise she was already awake.

“Go on… say it.” She was waiting for Tommy’s lecture.

Scott had turned his back just like her parents. All the people she thought she could rely on showed her to not take them for granted.

But Tommy shook his head.

“How are you feeling?” He asked taking the chair in the corner to place it next to the bed.

“Like a total failure.” She admitted with tears in her eyes.

“Y/N.” Tommy didn’t know what to say to make her feel better, to help her. “Hey, look at me.” He spoke softly and covered one of her hands with his own.

Y/N started biting the inside of her cheek to prevent more tears to come out. But looked at her best friend anyways.

“You’re not alone, I know you’ve a lot to take in at the moment… but you can count on me for everything.” He offered sincerely.

She didn’t feel worth any of this, she felt dirty, stupid for believing in Scott’s love words. How could she have been so naïve?

“Why?” Her voice broke. “Why do you want to help me when I’ve done everything wrong?”

“Don’t do this to yourself.” Tommy swallowed hard. “Don’t let them get in your head, I know how it is, but this isn’t your fault.”

“Of course it is! I gave myself away to Scott, I’m just another whore.”

Tommy lost his control, he didn’t want her to feel this way.

“You’re not a whore. You did it out of love and that’s not something to regret.”

“I deserve this, my father is right.” Y/N shook her head, she angrily wiped a tear away.

“No, you don’t deserve this shit happening. Y/N you’re a good woman an-”

Y/N’s grandmother asked if she could walk into the room. Tommy felt grateful for the interruption because he didn’t know how to deal this situation. He didn’t want to say that he had warned Y/N about her now ex boyfriend and make her feel worse than she already did.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

At least he got a chance last night at the warehouse to make the bastard pay for playing with Y/N’s heart. Tommy made it very clear he better disappear from her life for good because if he ever saw him again, he wouldn��t let him walk twice alive.

He had been a few punches away from killing Scott. But the image of Y/N holding a baby in her arms stopped him… he wouldn’t be responsible for killing that baby’s father, even though Scott definitely deserved it. So he limited himself to leave a little warning, a message.

“This is a mess, Y/N feels so guilty for getting into this.” Tommy announced walking into the kitchen. He found his sister and aunt making breakfast.

Tommy’s eyes fixed on Karl and he was taken back in time to when Ada thought he had betrayed Freddie. He was a lot of things, but he’d never cause a pain like that to a child. At least not one of his own people.

From the beginning, he knew Scott was a piece of shit, but Y/N seemed so happy and thrilled, how would he step in to destroy her happiness? He never imagined he’d have to help her pick up the broken pieces of her heart. The sudden presence of Polly close to him made him snap back into reality, she stepped closer to help him light the cigarette that was hanging from his mouth.

Tommy moved his eyes towards his nephew, he was playing with a truck on the floor. Perhaps he was overthinking but he didn’t know what would he answer when Y/N’s child asked about his or her father.

“Ada would you talk to Y/N?”

“About what?”

“When you got pregnant…” he began with embarrassment in his eyes to talk about that. “It’s something similar.”

They’ve come a long way ever since, but Tommy still regretted the time they spent apart. Family was everything to him.

“And what do you want me to say Tommy? Her boyfriend dumped her, it’s not the same I got married.”

He sighed in frustration. “I just want Y/N to feel our support.”

“You’re going to make her feel overwhelmed! I know how noisy you can be.” Ada protested.

Tommy scoffed, he felt offended by his sister’s words. He just wanted to help Y/N.

“I’ll talk to her.” Polly intervened placing some food on a tray to give Y/N.

“Thank you.”

Ada clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. Her eyes boring into her brother.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

But Ada turned the corner of her mouth down and shuddered. “Nothing it’s just strange to see you go above and beyond for someone.”

As she walked out of the kitchen, Tommy found himself thinking of her words. She was telling the truth but… but how could he stand there and do nothing for Y/N?

He knew her like the palm of his hand, she had been by his side since forever, encouraging him to follow his dreams, telling him the truth right in his face when he messed up. Even he didn’t want to hear it.

There was no other way to do this, she’d have his entire support through the pregnancy and whatever she might need afterwards.

“Mr. Shelby!” Y/N’s grandmother shouted from upstairs.

Tommy skipped a few steps and when he reached Ada’s old room, he found Polly holding Y/N’s hair back, she had been sick and her grandmother was trying to hold her trembling body.

“I’m sorry Pol. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry for? With everything you’ve been through it’s not a surprise your stomach can’t handle food. Tommy help me here.” His aunt asked him to take her place so Y/N could use his strength as support. “Take her to that chair, while I sort this out.”

Following Polly’s instructions, Tommy lead Y/N carefully to the chair in the corner while his aunt and Y/N’s grandma changed the bedsheets. Ada joined them a moment later with a glass of water. “Try some crackers, it helped me with sickness during my pregnancy.” She offered taking the sheets downstairs.

Y/N groaned feeling embarrassed and mortified for everything. As soon as she smelled the food her stomach protested, but she felt bad for telling Polly something so she decided to just eat the food. But the moment she got the first bite, she couldn’t help it and it ended in her throwing up and making a mess.

“I want to thank you for taking care of her.” Y/N’s grandmother admitted taking her hand.

“I was just thinking…” Tommy started to say, “You could come with me to the new place I got.” Then he turned to face her grandmother. “It’s outside the city, away from curious eyes and it’s surrounded by trees.”

“No.” Y/N stated.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea dear.” Her grandma smiled at Tommy. “Fresh air could help her.”

Y/N sighed frustrated with herself, with the situation.

“Think about it, yeah?” Tommy suggested. “That way you won’t run into your parents everyday, and you can walk to the lake to relax.”

“He’s right.” Her grandma approved. “You’ll feel grateful to be away from the drama.”

“Perfect! Looks like you got it all figured out Tommy.” She snapped. “Just like my mother who wanted to send me to her aunt’s farm.”

She knew this wasn’t fair, he was the only one offering support, but she couldn’t help it, she felt on the brick, like everything was falling apart. And she was angry with herself.

Polly pushed Tommy away and gently grabbed Y/N’s arm. “Sweetheart all of this worry isn’t right for the baby. For the first time, I think going to that house is the best idea.”

“Unfortunately your choices are limited my darling.” Y/N’s grandma spoke softly. “But you should know that these wonderful people are trying to help you.”

She was trying to be strong, to pretend this didn’t hurt her, but truth is he world was crashing down. And this was only the beginning.

That seemed to click on Y/N’s mind because she gave a small nod, her lower lip gave in and it started quivering, then the tears started to fall down her cheeks.

“Thank you so much.” Y/N sobbed. “I’m so sorry.” Emotions took over her.

Her grandma pulled her in for a hug, wrapping her arms protectively around her just like she did when she was a child. “The Lord removed some people from your life but look at the angels he placed right away.”

Tommy saw Polly dabbing the corner of her eyes with her sleeve.

“This baby will grow surrounded by people who really love him or her.” He assured her.

“Now how about I help you take a bath? The doctor should arrive shortly.” Polly offered rubbing her back.

Her grandma squeezed between them. “I better go, said I was going to church.”

“Thank you for coming gran.” Y/N gave her a tight hug.

As they moved to get things done, Polly stopped her nephew before he could walk downstairs. “You’re brave for helping her like this.”

“I can’t leave her on her own.” He tried to explain, but Polly interrupted him.

“Your mother raised you right.” She then, in an unexpected move touched his shoulder. “She’d be proud of you.”

Part 3

Master list

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#that’s what Cill said #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fics #peaky blinders fan fiction #polly grey imagine

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almostfoxglove · 1 month ago

Note

I was re-reading I’ll Carry You and it got me wondering… was reader at Javi and Lorraine’s wedding? And if so, what was going through her mind when he left Lorraine at the altar? Did they get a chance to talk about it before he left for Colombia?

sweet angel darling THANK YOU FOR THIS (also, hey! I'm crying abt the fact that you wanted to reread the series! ahhhhh) - I might have gotten a touch carried away with this... oops! hope this is alright :,) in ICY, I have javier & reader aged twenty-eight when javi leaves lorraine at the altar (so this precedes that section of part II by two weeks or so)

javier & lorraine's wedding day

an I'LL CARRY YOU drabble

Explicit (18+) | Javier Peña x f!reader | 1.2k words

You don't know, but you have a feeling.

Maybe it's the filters you had to sweep from the ashtray on your nightstand before leaving: eleven. Or the look in Javier's eyes when he took off this morning: so glassy, far away. How, when he crashed at yours last night—can't see the bride before the wedding!—he'd asked you to hold him, said he couldn't sleep, and in the gloom of your shitty apartment you thought you felt his lips skim your jaw. Just once. Then he was asleep.

Now at the chapel, you light up on the grass while sunlight flirts with the ruffle at the end of your dress. It's bad news whenever you smoke without him, but it's not over yet—there's still time for him to show. Then you meet Chucho's eye across the grassy churchyard you see it in his face, composed as it remains. Worry.

Spearing smoke from the corner of your mouth, you drop the filter to snub beneath your heel as Chucho wanders over, accepting shoulder claps and handshakes from waiting attendees, so many drawls wishing him congratulations, must be mighty proud. He falters none, loyal to his role as doting father of the groom.

Until, of course, he reaches you.

"Thought you were bringing him," you hush under your breath, careful to maintain a gentle grin as guests breeze past, romanced by the sweetness of a wedding in July.

Chucho nods, his hands two stony fists in his pockets, and looks at his shoes. Newly polished, you think. Decades worn. "Thought the same 'bout you."

A glance at the chapel, its pillared spire. The small, coin-shaped window at the very top where you know Lorraine must be waiting, entirely unaware that Javier has failed to show.

He could show up. There are still minutes to go.

And yet you now feel in your bones that Javier's not coming.

With a sigh Chucho pulls one hand free to glance at his watch, but there's no hope in his expression. "Never know what that boy's thinkin'," he mumbles as he too looks up at the chapel.

Your heart winces for the woman beyond the window who must now be fussing over the final details: her hair, her blush, the straps of her shoes. Perhaps fighting back tears while she holds her mother and sister, telling them this is the best day of her life. Gazing out into the churchyard, hoping for a glimpse of Javier. Practicing how it feels to introduce herself with a new last name.

Poor Lorraine.

"Don't say anythin' yet," you whisper to Chucho, steeling yourself. "Might know where he is."

You run a red on your way and find Javier brooding on his own back porch, having left your apartment in time to artfully dodge his father's departure—now he sits planted on the lowest step in his tux trousers and white shirt hanging open over his bronze chest, smoking like he has tired of this mortal plane.

Dry scrubgrass crackles as you walk, but he doesn't look up. "Gonna miss the party," he says dryly, when you come to stand over him.

You think you might be mad—all this fucking ache, the years of watching him love her over you, pick her over you—and here on the big day Javier's decided it's not for him. Cold feet. False alarm. Making all your suffering feel like slinking, unnecessary shame.

"Javi," you scold, your arms crossed.

His chest glistening, slick with summer heat and freckled. He blows smoke from the corner of his mouth as his free hand rises to pinch the hem of your dress where it hangs at the level of his eye. "Y'look nice," he says.

Weak, it wilts you. He's trying to distract you from the mess he's about to make, and how pathetic you feel when he succeeds bruises you. "If you wanted to make a break for it, should've told me."

He scoffs, pinches his cigarette back to his lips to drag, and continues to thumb the gauzy fabric of your dress, unwilling to let it go.

In his silence, you sink onto the porch step beside him, letting stray grass tickle at your calves. Stealing his cigarette for a turn, staring out at the yellowed pastures where the colts are galloping in the shade of their old-world oaks. Letting the summer melt you, ruin your hair. Filling your lungs with what's polluting him.

"When'd you know?"

Javier's jaw flinches. He shakes his head. "Don't think it matters now."

For a long time neither of you speaks. You finish the cigarette, then Javier lights another and hands it straight to you. The time for the wedding comes and goes, but neither of you answer the phone when it shrills from the kitchen. After the first three calls, you go in to knock the phone from its cradle before returning to his side.

"How'd the interview go," you ask him—because asking this is safe. You can't ask what you want to. You can't ask him why. Asking would be to show your hand, to admit you have hope to hide.

A resigned shrug jolts his torso, shoulders burdened by guilt's great albatross. "Dunno," he says. "Said they'll know in a couple weeks."

You nod and pass the cigarette, careful not to shiver when Javier takes it in a way that touches every part of your hand. Weak: you lean against him. Spineless: your head finds the heat of his shoulder. Terrible: you almost smile when he brushes his lips against the crown of your head. You should drag him to the chapel, make him break up with Lorraine where he can look her in the face if not march him down the aisle at gunpoint—she's a good woman. Good to him. She loves him, entertains his black humor, makes sure he eats. She'd take care of him. They'd make a gaggle of cute little kids.

But you're in love with him, self-bound to secrecy and unable to shake the shackles of your adoration. Often you wonder if this fact makes you bad. Certainly unwise, sometimes unkind. Because you don't take him anywhere, don't tell him off, don't make him fess up to you. You sit, right here on the porch that's bore your weight for most of your life, and let him get away with it.

"You think you'll take it?" you say, your temple still resting against him as a tendril of smoke bleeds into the air. The miles aren't worth counting—if Javier goes, it'll cut the cord. And worse than the feeling you had at the chapel is the doom that gathers over you when you consider this in a new light: Javier isn't getting married, won't have a wife, and therefore won't have any reason to stay.

If they offer it, he'll leave you in Laredo alone. No guarantee that he'll ever come home.

"S'a long shot," he says. "Doubt they'll offer."

"They'll offer, Javi. You'd be good."

At this he chuckles softly as if surprised. "Yeah?"

He should be saying I do right now. Kissing his bride. Rushing off down the petal-blown aisle to a chorus of collective joy.

It's dangerous to wonder why instead he's here, smoking next to you. Why he came here instead of hiding—a place he knew you'd find him. Like he wanted you to. It's dangerous, yes, but you do. Quietly you unfurl one hand, let sunlight hit your open palm, and Javier looks down at it for a long, stretching moment before sliding his over it to claim.

"Yeah, baby," you tell him, eyes sinking shut. "Course you'd be good."

*also, because this bit didn't quite fit in the drabble - I imagine that when Javier finds out he's been offered the job in Colombia a couple weeks after this, he invites our girl out for the fancy dinner in part II (intending to celebrate & tell her the news) but on the day he loses his nerve and decides he can't bear to say goodbye to her, so instead he chickens out, changes his flight, and leaves :,) ow

tag list for the series in case anyone wants to be sad w me <3

@pedritosgfreal @thundermartini @guiltyasdave @jolapeno @reluctanthalfwayoptimism

@myownwholewildworld @sunnytuliptime @indiegirlunited @anoverwhelmingdin @pedrospatch

@bergamote08 @harriedandharassed @casssiopeia @sweetpascal @half-moon16

@noisynightmarepoetry @theoraekenslover @luxurychristmaspudding @kyberblade @toomanytookas

@itsokbbygrl @wannab-urs @milla-frenchy @yopossum @beezusvreeland

@katw474 @bluesweaters15 @jessthebaker @encasedinobsidian @ppascalrain

@yxtkiwiyxt @schnarfer @bbyanarchist @amanitacowboy @iknowisoundcrazy

@whiskeyneat-coffeeblack @missladym1981

#javier pena fanfiction #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #pedro pascal #asks #narcos fanfic #narcos #myfics #drabble: javilorraine #series: illcarryyou #almostfoxglove #freya speaks #love-on-my-side

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no-fate-but-what-we-make · 2 years ago

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Behind Closed Doors | Fezco

Description: you’re with Fezco in bed when Rue shows up and bangs on his door. Set in Euphoria season 1, episode 3

Pairing: Fezco x Female!Reader

A/N: The moment I first saw this scene, I knew I wanted to write something with it, but I never got around to it until now. Gif isn't mine - all credit to the creator. Enjoy xo

Warnings: drug mentions, addiction

- - -

The sound of a fist banging on the door to Fezco’s house shook you out of your nap. “Mm, what is it, Fez?” You asked, still sleepy, stretching and turning over to face him.

“I don’t know.” Fez sighed, pulling you into him for a quick kiss. “Maybe they’ll go away if we wait long enough.”

The incessant banging continued and after a few more seconds, your boyfriend let out an annoyed grunt and shifted to get out of bed. You watched, a lazy smile on your face as he grabbed his shirt from the floor and threw it on. “Be right back.”

You didn’t necessarily try to hear, but the walls in the house could be thin so it wasn’t hard to eavesdrop on conversations.

“Who is it?” You heard Fezco ask as he walked into the living room. The door squeaked as he opened it, and you could only imagine who was on the other side. One of his clients, no doubt. “Not today, Rue. Sorry.”

Rue. Your chest constricted at hearing the younger girl’s name. You’d seen her around school before you’d graduated, and had met her a couple times since whenever she showed up asking for drugs. From the rumors, her drug habit was one of the worst out of all of Fezco’s clients, and that was seriously saying something.

“C’mon man, don’t be a dick.” The window was open, a fact you hadn’t realized until now, and you could hear the hurt in her strung-out voice.

“Nah, I’m serious. You can’t come in.”

You and Fezco had just been talking about how he wanted to set firmer boundaries with his clients and you knew this was going to be one of the hardest. He saw Rue like a little sister, and always took special care when it came to her - any other girl would be jealous of the relationship, but you saw it for what it was: guilt mixed with some fucked up version of platonic love. When the news broke that Rue had been carted off to rehab after a very nasty OD where she almost died, Fezco had been inconsolable for almost a week. Ashtray had done a majority of the deals that week and you still weren’t sure what he’d told the buyers.

“Look, man, all I- all I need is just a few OCs-”

“Sorry, I can’t help you.”

“Fez? Fez? I’ve had a really fucked up day, alright? It’s been a really really fucked up day, so I need you to open the door for me, okay? Can you open the door, please?” The desperation in her voice had tears pricking the back of your eyes. You knew that tone of voice well, memory taking you back to your dead, alcoholic mother when she’d beg you to go buy booze with the fake she’d had made for you specifically for that purpose. Addiction was a hell of a drug.

“I ain’t gon’ help you kill yourself, Rue.” His silence was deafening. “I’m sorry but you can’t be comin’ over here no more. Just go home.”

“Don’t! Fez, don’t close the-” you heard the click of the door. “Fuck! Fez-” Rue banged her fist against the storm door, “open the fucking door, please? I’m begging you, just open the door.” In a flash, you were off your feet and heading down to the front door. When you got there, all you could see was his back, his forehead resting on the now-closed door. You wasted no time, coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek in-between his shoulder blades as you held him tight. He took a shuddering inhale, bracing himself for Rue’s next words.

“Fez! You’re full of shit, man. You know you make your living off of selling drugs to teenagers, and now all of a sudden you wanna have a fucking moral high ground?! You’re a fucking dropout drug dealer. You know that? You’re a fucking dropout drug dealer with seven functioning fucking brain cells. OPEN THE DOOR! Fuck you! Fuck you Fez okay? Are you doing this because you care about me ? If you gave a shit about me you wouldn’t have sold me the fucking drugs in the first place but you did! You fucking did so open the goddamn door! Open the door!”

During Rue’s rant, Fez had turned around, his eyes meeting yours in one of the most tortured expressions you’d ever seen on his face. You hugged him again, your arms winding around his neck as you let him bury his face in the crook of your neck.

“I can’t do it-” He whispered against your skin, and you couldn’t fathom how Rue had heard him, but she responded like she had.

“Open the door, open the door, open the door!” The silence was heartbreaking, but you were currently torn between comforting Fez and fighting Rue for what she’d said to him even though you knew it was no use when an addict was like this. “Open the door. You did this to me! You fucking- you did this to me, Fez. You fucking ruined my life. The least you could do is open the goddamn door! I’m so serious I’m so fucking serious. If you don’t open this door right now I swear to god, I will hate you til the day I fucking die.”

“I’m sorry.”

She let out a heart-wrenching wail and smacked her fists against the storm door. “You fucking did this to me! Open the door! Open the door, Fez! C’mon man…”

Wordlessly, you took Fez’s hand and led him back to the bedroom, the sound of Rue banging on the door for far too long until she tired herself out and left.

The two of you had laid in silence and you waited without expectation until he began to speak. “I just…don’t know how to help her, ya know?” Fez murmured, staring up at the ceiling.

“She’s an addict, Fez. And you’re a dealer. You can’t control what she does and you have to let her fail on her own. It sucks but there’s only so much you can do.”

“I know.” He sighed, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. “Thank you for being here.” After a while, Fez finally fell asleep in your arms, his breathing finally evening out after an exhausting encounter. You tucked him into bed, curling up into his side as you tried to get some sleep of your own.

#fezco x reader #fezco x you #fezco x female!reader #fezco fanfiction #fezco fanfic #fezco imagines #fezco imagine #fezco oneshot #fezco one shot #fezco angst #euphoria fanfiction #euphoria imagines

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jaidens · 1 year ago

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idrk if u still do outsiders stuff 😕 but if u do can you please do a dallas winston x reader fic where reader has a younger sibling that annoys them when they’re together 🙏🙏

miss americana & the heartbreak prince !

pairing [s] : dallas winston x reader

warning [s] : hey outsiders.. 😞

a/n [s] : ty for the request!!

KNOCK! KNOCK!

The pattering noise against your door makes you moan, putting out the cigarette against the ashtray and you answer whoever is behind it. Your little sister pokes her head inside, a mischievous grin across her face. Dallas greets her as he saunters into your room, muscles stretching through his white tank.

It had been known to you that your little sister, Dorothea, had an insignificant crush against your boyfriend. It was quite hilarious— watching her kiss his cheeks and cuddle up into him. Even though when he would leave, it was all fight and no play.

“Hey sweetheart,” The New York accent rings within his words, but your sister kicks her feet and hugs Dallas in her small arms. “How have you been?” She pulls away from him and smiles, her two front teeth missing are adorable, and you laugh at her.

“I’ve been good! I got an A on my project about flamingos! Did you know that they aren't always pink—” She's cut off when you chuck a shirt at her doll, hitting the pink ribbons that are tied in small bows around her hair. Her expression turns from happiness to immediate anger when her doll falls against the floor.

Dallas turns his head at you and you swear they have identical expressions of ‘why did you do that?’. “Why did you do that? You hurt Betty!”

Dallas looks even more offended than her, picking up Betty and gently dropping her in Dorothea’s arms. He stands up, pats her head, and walks over to you. Within a second, Dorothea follows Dallas to your bed. He lays down next to you and kisses you. “Move over!” Dorothea screeches and pushes in-between you and your boyfriend. Inherently, she's closer to Dallas and she lets him tickle her sides.

“Get out Dora! Leave me and Dal alone.” You snap at her and she sticks her tongue out at you, waving her hands in the air. “Shoo!” You say once more, slapping her side. She stands up and walks away, slamming the door behind her.

You and Dallas are finally alone, as you watch him puff on a cigarette while telling you a story about something that had apparently happened at Buck’s earlier that day. You're running your finger down his chest. You're cuddled up with him when you hear another obnoxious knock. “Mommy said you have to let me stay with you guys!” Dorothea yells through the crack of your door. You roll your eyes and Dallas puts out his cigarette once more.

She's crying outside of your door and Dallas can't help but not to laugh. His arm wraps around you and pulls you into his shoulder. He kisses your forehead and pulls you close. You're relaxed then once again, your name is screeched. “C’mon! Let me in!”

“Nope! Goodbye!”

#dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston fanfic #dallas winston fanfiction #dally winston #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston #dallas winston x you #dallas winston x y/n #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fanfic #the outsiders #dally winston x reader #the outsiders dally

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generalsolae · 1 year ago

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Must be quiet

(METALLICAERA!Dave Mustaine X Reader)

Just imagine: you are James’ sister and you promised him to not touch any of the member of his band.

Warnings!: smut, use of alcohol and weed, NON!sober sex, no grammar rechecking because I’m lazy

It was just one of the usual night where your brother James and his friends came over at your place to practice but just end up in them drinking and passing out on the floor. Usually you preferred to smoke over drinking, but that night you just gave in and drank a little more.

It was 2 a.m., James, Lars and Cliff were laying down on the ground, peacefully sleeping while you and Dave were the only ones awake. You decided to go in your room to smoke a joint, so you two would be able to talk without waking up the others, even tho you knew they wouldn’t woke up anyway, you really just wanted some intimacy. You promised your brother to not touch any of his band members, but a couple of months ago you and Dave had some drunk sex and from then on you started to secretly date. You planned to confess that to James, but you thought it was still too soon.

You took a deep drag, feeling the marijuana immediately hit your already alcohol-distorted mind. You never smoke and drank at the same time, and that was the reason why “Jeez, you wanna smoke it? I think it’s better for me to stop.” You snorted, handing him the joint.

Dave chuckled and took one last drag before putting it in the ashtray, clearly tipsy himself. He stared at me for a few seconds before speaking“You’ve been a bitch these days.”.

“What? No that’s not true, what are you talking about?” You asked even tho you knew exactly what he meant.

Dave laughed and landed closer, the smell of alcohol and weed surrounding him strongly “oh yeah, always acting mean and cold when I was around, rushing out of the room as soon as I entered it…” he was getting closer every second it passed, but you were too embarrassed to notice.

“Yeah- I mean no, no it’s not true! It’s because of James- I mean I think his suspecting something… jeez I drank too much I think I’m drunk..” i sight until I felt Dave’s hand on my thighs, making me quickly look at him again

“Well I am too” he said nonchalantly, caressing my thigh teasingly, climbing with his hand and getting closer to your panties.

“Dave what are you doing?! James is out there!” You whispered pointing at the closed door. Dave just laugh it off and said: “we’ll be quite.” And then he just smashed his lips over yours once again.

You didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol or just because of the feelings you kept hidden deep down all the time because of James, but when you returned the kiss it felt amazing. It was the best kiss you and Dave ever had, his lips moving at perfect synchro with yours, like they were meant to each other. Or maybe it was just the weed.

But still… It made you forgot about the promised you made to your brother to not sleep or flirt with any of his band members.

You quickly pulled off your shirt, leaning back again in a sloppy kiss. The weed amplified your desire and love so much, it was beautiful and painful at the same time, you felt like you weren’t on earth anymore, you were somewhere else.

He started to play with your breasts as he kissed you neck, leaving little marks on it. Soft moans sighs of pleasure escaped your mouth, so you quickly cover it as Dave started to kiss and bit your left nipple.

One hand was working on the other nipple as the other hand got lower, and lower until he reached your miniskirt, which he was quick to pull off.

“Dave…” you whispered looking down at him. When he look up at you, you just lost it. He had this look of love and desire in his eyes even tho he was clearly high as much as you. His red and happy eyes were the most beautiful thing you ever saw in your entire life. In that exact moment, when he raised his face from between your legs to look at you, looking into his eyes you realized you were in love with him.

Dave smiled at you and kissed you on the lips sweetly “just let me make you feel good baby, trust me.” He looked at you in the eyes to get a consent from you. When you nodded, biting your lower lip, he got back at kissing your chest as his hand started to rub small circles on your clothed clit, making you whimper.

He slid two fingers between your fold, feeling how wet you were “so wet for me.” He teased.

“Dave please…” You begged, needing his touch.

He kissed you to make you shut up as he pushed two fingers into your throbbing pussy, making you whine in pleasure.

He quickly started to finger fuck you as he felt your wall clenching every time he sped up.

“Fuck Dave… oh Dave please… I need you” You whispered, trying to not be so loud. You didn’t want to wake up the guys, especially James.

Dave pushed his fingers inside you for another couple of minutes before pulling them out and bringing them on your lips “suck them” He demanded, and you immediately did that as he watched you the eyes as you did so, feeling his cock hardening even more.

He then positioned himself at your entrance and you let out a surprised moan as he entered you balls deep without warning. “Fuck!” You whined, pushing your head on the pillow and rolling your eyes back.

“Good girl- shit your already clenching.. you’re so tight- fuck” He moaned softly as he started moving at a quick peace, making you bit your lips and cover your mouth to not be loud.

A tears of pleasure dropped your eyes as you closed them. Dave leaned closer, and kiss it away before biting your earlobe “look at me, baby” He whispered into your eyes as he slowed his thrusts.

He quickly covered your mouth with his hand “shh, we don’t want to wake up the others, right baby?” You nodded “good, you think you’ll be able to be quiet for me, sweetheart?” You felt your walls tightening as he said so, this man really turned you on by only speaking to you. You nodded again.

“I love you so much” he whispered, leaving sweet and caring kisses on your neck before pushing his head back to look at you in the eyes.

You uncovered your mouth, surprised by his words and then kissed him “I love you to baby”

After a couple more minutes, his thrusts became inconstant and messy, your walls started to clenching more as you hit your orgasm.

“Just like that baby, so good for me” He praised you as he came too into you, filling you up with his seed before collapsing on top of you.

“Thank you Dave” you whispered into his ear before kissing his cheek as he pulled out.

He smiled and rested his head on your chest, leaving a sweet kiss on it “I love you.”

#dave mustaine #megadeth #dave mustaine x reader #metal #james hetfield #80s Dave mustaine #80s James Hetfield #Metallica #smut #megadeth smut #Metallica smut

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cindol · 1 year ago

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Let’s reverse the roles.. fem plug!reader.

Fem plug reader x eren Yeager

tw: fluff fluff, I don’t know SHIT about weed here, nerd!eren here, reader and eren are in their 20s, in the hc format,

tags— @neptunes1nterweb @honeybleed

Fem plug!reader who’s only a plug just so she can find a way to always have ends meets and take care of her 11 year old baby sister. Ever since her mother abandoned them she had the soul responsibility of taking care of her sister on her own.

Fem plug!reader who tries to keep to herself when it comes to actually being a plug. Being one of the rare female plugs she had to face misogyny sometimes from male clients so she liked to show she’s about straight business.

Fem plug!reader who met Eren through her usual customer onyankopon. He was a chill customers of her she sometimes kicked it back with in his crib. When she was just coming to give Onyakopon the front door she knocked on was opened up to a 6 foot pretty boy in a grey jacket with brunette hair and square black glasses on his face.

He noticed her staring him down and bashfully checked her out also. From her top she had a white tank top on with a opened up pink jacket on and down to her bottoms she had black Nike shorts on and light grey slippers. He snapped out his stare when she raised a brow at him.

He nervously chuckled looking at her and scratched his head.”Ah you must be the dealer or whatever! You can just hand me the uh cannabis I guess?” The way she giggled at that made a faint blush appear on his cheeks as he turned his head and put his hands into his jackets pockets until onyankopon came over chuckling and put a hand on his shoulder.”i see you met my pretty plug. Sorry if this one gave you a stink eye ren, she just has a resting bitch face.” He joked making her laugh in response, they could just make jokes like this with one another.

onyankopon then cleared his throat.”why don’t you come in yeah? I’m gonna be showing my boy ren here how to smoke for his first time. Would be nice to have the plug herself see it.” y/n chuckled.”sure why not, my sister’s staying at her little friends house so I got free time.” Y/n then took her way to brush between onyankopon and eren causing an obvious effect on eren.

Onyankopon just chuckled and patted Eren’s back.”calm down there yeah? Getting red in the face like a virgin at my dealer before you even have your first smoke sesh.” He then walked off behind y/n making eren gulp and squeeze his brim of his nose with his two fingers.

Fem plug!reader who had eren so nervous when putting his lips to the blunt. The way she sat next to Onyankopon on a opposite bed to the one he sat on looking at him with smiling two toned lips looking at him made him nearly sweat. He took the first hit and exhaled coughing making onyankopon chuckle and sigh and y/n grinned also.

“Damn your boy sucks shit at smoking Ony.” Eren just coughed and nervously laughed putting the blunt on the square plastic ashtray.”uh sorry I guess.. just never done this type of thing before in my 23 years of living y’know?”

y/n giggled at that more and nodded getting his perspective. He was so cute and joyous to her.”Mm i get that.. you’re like a cute little college boy. I could definitely teach you some things about smoking though..”

Onyankopon saw they were chatting it up and took his chance to take a quiet leave to the bathroom. They both were alone now in this room and y/n moved to sit next to Eren making him more nervous than he was minutes ago. Eren took the key to start speaking first and cleared his throat.”Ah uh.. what could you teach me about smoking?” He heard her giggle again. He didn’t understand how a drug dealer could have such a nice giggle like that.

“Well I could teach you some things if you’re willing to come visit my house sometimes.” She pulled out her phone.”if you’re interested in being a client of course, don’t want any weird shit.” Eren nearly broke out in a grin. He couldn’t believe a pretty girl like her was giving him a gateway to her number.

He eagerly pulled his phone out himself.”I would love that! do you uh wanna exchange phone numbers maybe?” She smiled at how eager he was and pulled her phone out, exchanging numbers with him.

Fem plug!reader who surprised eren with how pretty her room was. It wasn’t over the top but he had this mindset that since she was a plug she wouldn’t think of tidying her room up ever. As he sat on her soft bed he was in awe making y/n chuckle and shake her head.”you gonna keep feeling on my pillows and comforter or you wanna learn how to smoke?”

That made eren jump a little but nodded as y/n sat next to him with her legs criss cross and some grabba and papers in her hands and looked at eren.”you ready to smoke or what?” He gulped and nodded.

Fem plug!reader who after teaching eren how to properly smoke she started have some more smoking sessions with him and slowly opening up more to him. More about how her deadbeat mother was and how tough it was to take care of her baby sister on her own.

Fem plug!reader who had eren at her house more as a regular. On some nights he would babysit her sister sometimes on days he was free from studies then when it came 11PM he would stay cozied up in bed with y/n, like friends do.

Fem plug!reader who had eren feeling jealous sometimes when he saw how friendly and cozy she was with onyankopon. He knew he didn’t have any kind of right to be jealous but he couldn’t help it, seeing how she clung onto his arm made his brows furrow.

When they were both alone he took the chance to question her about her and ony’s relationship.”so uh.. you and onyankopon are close? Like close close right?” She chuckled again getting what he was trying to say, it was cute honestly.

“Mm why you jealous Ren?” She teased him making him blush and rub his head. She giggled, everytime she teased him his cheeks got so pink.”me and ony are just good friends eren, he was my first client. You worried he’s gonna steal me away?” She teased again.

Fem plug!reader who had her fair share of being jealous also. Sometimes when she was picking up eren from his classes and saw some girls just giggling and jokingly teasing him she felt a sting of jealousy and pettiness.

When eren came in the passenger seat sitting next to her he was very aware of her jealousy, even when she put up some cute tough act pouting and turning her engine on. It was his turn to tease.”sad I got other friends than you or something?” That made her gasp as she tried hiding her smile and hit his shoulder.

Eren who picked up a few lines to use or as Onyankopon would say,”rizz” y/n up. They were very corny lines still but they made her giggle.

He used every line he learned from his college boy friends and used them on her making her smile and laugh saying,”that’s real cute babes.”

Fem plug!reader who acted almost like a girlfriend to him and he acted like a boyfriend in return without the two noticing. Eren didn’t even peep how he himself was spending weeks at her house with y/n and her baby sister.

He and y/n nearly had a routine together, on mornings eren would be up early in the morning making some basic waffles and bacon for y/n and her baby sister. Then when she dropped her sister off to school they would spend the afternoon having a smoke session while watching some sitcoms like the Office and Arrested Development and then when night comes they spend the day with her sister.

Fem plug!reader who in a high haze shared a kiss with a just as high eren. She didn’t even notice how smoothly she sat in his lap with the blunt they shared between her acrylics. But from her view eren just looked so cute, his glasses were inside his hair and his green hazel eyes tinted red with a nervous smile on his lips. He had both hands on her thighs, he didn’t know if it was right to do but he kept his hands there.

“You’re so adorable y’know?” She held one side of his face with her free hand.”don’t know how you think girls aren’t attracted to you..” she gave him a slow kiss making his cheeks light up.”because I am.”

Fem plug!reader and eren who would be more playful and flirty after their shared kiss and it was telling to onyankopon and eren’s friends something was definitely going on. With the way y/n would wrap her arms around him or give him a glossy kiss on the cheek while handing him a small baggie of weed into his hand. Eren chuckles in response.”thanks y/n.” And he gets a “You’re welcome baby” making onyankopon raise his brows.

Onyankopon, Jean and armin end up questioning if he’s actually messing with her in secret. Eren of course just scoffed denying.”you guys are craaazy! What? No! Me and y/n are Just good friends.” It obviously wasn’t believable to them.

They found out sooner or later because of how dumb eren was, he posted everything on his Instagram so it was easy to just piece everything together. When eren posted himself with a pink robe that obviously didn’t belong to him sitting on a pink bed and hamper with cheetah print bra and panties hanging off of it that was familiar to onyankopon it all clicked for the 3 sneaky men.

When they found out they confronted him when they were having a smoke session. Onyankopon patted his back as he looked at him and laughed.”you’re so sly you know that?” Eren just looked at him with a dumbfounded look and Onyakopon scoffed.”don’t play dumb, I know you been messing around with y/n.”

eren nearly choked on his own spit hearing that as ony took a drag of the shared blunt once it was passed to him.”aha.. how’d ya even find out?” Jean let out a boisterous laugh at what he said.”you’re barely even secretive with the shit you do man.”

Eren side eyed Jean.”shut up you damn horse.. I thought I was being secretive! I even tried hiding and closing up on my face in photos to hide I was at her home!” Armin let’s out a soft chuckle also.”you were wearing her pink robe and her bra was hanging out her hamper in the background. Not very secretive Ren..” armin shook his head, eren wasn’t the smart one when it comes to girls despite being a nerd.

Eren just scratched his chuckling.”secrets out I guess..”

Eren who had been getting bolder and bolder with Fem plug!reader. She made him feel more comfortable to be much more out there with what he wanted to say so he found himself doing some pda in public with her. Now that their whole secret about them being in a somewhat fwb relationship got leaked to his friends he wasn’t shy with his affection.

It was to the dismay of his friends though when they were witness to y/n putting her legs on his lap across the couch they both sat on making y/n giggle and Connie and onyankopon groan.”hope I never grow to be that lovey Dovey..” Connie shook his head, ‘friends with benefits my ass..’

Fem plug!reader who found herself blushing at the smallest things he does and the big grand gestures also. When y/n groans and whines in bed about her needing ego waffles in her fridge for her sister before school starts he gives a simple kiss on her neck and heads out to get waffles.

Fem plug!reader who bragged and gloated about eren so much to onyankopon. It made Onyakopon smile how much she’s opened up since meeting eren, it was like she made a best friend and boyfriend. It just made him frown how they were just friends with benefits because of a wall y/n built up.

“Oh he got me these jewelry boxes also! These pink boxes and—“ ony chuckled hearing how excited she would talk about him.”why don’t you and ren just date already? Talk about the nigga like he’s your boyfriend.”

That gagged her a bit and made her sit up. as nice as it would be to be official with him she couldn’t see herself dating him yet, she was always too busy and felt like she could hurt him.”Mm.. I’m comfortable with where I’m at with him right now.”

Fem plug!reader who found it being difficult to fight against their friends with benefits relationship. The way he would kiss and suck on her neck while holding her hips in her kitchen made her feel something more than lust when she had to kick him away when her sister came in.

Fem plug!reader who matched eren perfectly whenever she went to him to college parties when she was free. No college boys even flirted or played around with her with how she hugged onto his arm, they both complimented one another so well.

Eren who had enough of them both just playing a game and pretending to be friends and confronted her about his feelings at her house. He cornered her in the kitchen one day as she sat against her counter and let her know.”I’m tired of playing pretend, aren’t you? Just acting like we don’t have something more..”

She gasped as she sat on the corner counter surprised and gagged at his behavior. She guessed her personality had rubbed off on him with how confrontational he was being.”ren, you know we can’t I’m too..”

Eren made a pout at that.”please.. I don’t care whatever problem you have. Just give me a try with you.” That made her smile, maybe she’ll give him and her a try.

#eren x black fem!reader #eren x black reader #eren x black y/n #eren x black reader fluff #eren fluff #eren x reader #eren x y/n #aot fluff

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distorted59 · 1 year ago

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A Week In San Francisco pt.2

summary: after sharing a heated kiss the night before, James and y/n are a little on edge when they visit the beach.

pairing: Kill 'Em All!James x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw/smut, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, p in v, james likes to beg a little, cute lil' aftercare in the end

word count: 3344

A/N: sorry it took a while! honestly took me longer than expected lol. hope you enjoy it, babes! xo

part 1

✪

The fact that she even got a few hours of sleep is a fucking miracle itself. The butterflies in her stomach almost made it impossible to fall asleep.

But, here she is. Sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a cigarette in her hand. She’s wearing a beach-sundress and a simple bikini underneath. And honestly, she’s really excited to go to the beach.

Kirk shuffles into the kitchen, wearing his glasses and his hair is messy. His favorite ‘Dracula’ t-shirt is completely wrinkled and slightly raised, showing his belly.

“Morning,” y/n grins. “I see you slept very well?”

"Mhm." Kirk kisses the top of her head and yawns.

He goes over to the counter and pours himself a cup of coffee, he is a bit wobbly but he can still keep his balance. He goes to sit down next to y/n and smiles at her.

“How did you sleep? Did everything go okay last night?”

She almost chokes on her coffee, but luckily she doesn’t. A slight blush creeps on her face. Y/n quickly puts out her cigarette in the ashtray in front of her and tries to hide her blush with a smile.

“Yeah, I slept fine!” She assures him.

"Great." Kirk moves his hand through his hair. “You know, James told me he spoke to you last night.”

“He did?” She looks into his eyes. “What did he say?”

“That he told you we’re going to the beach today!” Kirk grins excitedly. “I see you’re all ready to go!”

Y/n breathes out slowly through her nose. It would be kinda dumb to immediately tell a guy you kissed his sister, right? But, hey. Anything can happen with these guys.

“Yeah, you know I love going to the beach!”

They sit in a comfortable silence for a bit, sipping their coffee and enjoying the morning sun that is shining through the kitchen window.

Until that is interrupted by a fucking war cry.

“Cliff! I swear to god, man! I claimed the bathroom first!”

“You’re too slow, Hetfield!”

Lars walks into the kitchen rolling his eyes, “Morning, guys.” He opens the refrigerator and grabs a carton of orange juice. “How did your first night in the Metallica Mansion treat you, y/n?”

“It treated me wonderfully, thank you.”

“Great!” He smiles. “That’s really good to hear.”

Later on, Cliff walks in with a big grin on his face. He sits down next to Kirk and looks at y/n and her cigs. “Good morning, can I?”

“Morning! ‘Course you can.” She slides the pack towards him and he lights one. Cliff thanks her and shoots her a wink, y/n nods back and grins.

“Dude, are you flirting with my baby sister?” Kirk leans back in his chair and raises his brows.

“Me? Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” Cliff grins, “Can’t say I’m speaking for everyone, though…”

“Morning everybody!” James walks in, unusually cheerful for this time of the day. “Is there still some coffee left?”

“Yeah,” Kirk says. “Over on the counter”

“Thanks, dude!” He grabs a mug and pours himself some, leaning against the counter and eying y/n curiously.

It’s almost like she can feel it, because she turns around and smiles at James. She holds up her mug. “James?” Her voice is sickly sweet, oh yeah, today is going to be that type of day. “Could you pour me another one?”

His eyes almost popped out of his skull, he hadn’t even really noticed what she was wearing. The way she’s looking and talking to him is making James weak at the knees.

“Y-yeah, of course!" He takes the mug from her hands and shakily pours the coffee in, trying not to spill.

The other guys are talking about what they're planning on doing at the beach today. Kirk and Lars are arguing over something and Cliff doesn’t know what conversation he wants to keep up with.

“Here you go.” He decides to sit next to her this time and puts on his best charms.

“Thank you!” She grins.

“So,” James starts. “Did you sleep okay, sweetheart?”

Her heart skips a beat at the nickname and she looks at him without breaking eye contact.

“I slept great. How about you, sweetheart?” she grins playfully.

“Me too, me too.” He looks into her eyes, not saying anything else.

The argument between Kirk and Lars has quieted down and one of them lets out a cough.

“So, is everyone ready to go?” Lars speaks up.

“Yes, more than ready.” Kirk eyes James and y/n suspiciously. “Let's get moving.”

Everyone gets ready and grabs their stuff; towels, sunscreen, and beer. You know, the essentials.

It’s a short walk to the beach, but the morning heat isn’t really working with them. James keeps trying to walk next to y/n, but Kirk doesn’t allow it. everytime James tries to pick up his pace, Kirk closes the gap between him and his sister.

“What are you doing, dude?” y/n raises her brows at Kirk.

“Just walking next to you, is that a problem?” He nudges her shoulder.

“No, but…” She starts.

“Good, we’re almost there.” Kirk cuts her off and smiles.

They arrive at the beach and find a good spot, putting their towels down and enjoying the warm sun on their already tanned skin.

Y/n takes off her dress and sits down on her towel, all of the boys take a quick glance at her and sit down as well. Kirk glares at the three, but doesn’t say anything.

“Aw, man!” Kirk groans in annoyance. “We forgot the radio!”

“What? No way, I definitely grabbed it before we left!” Cliff frowns and looks around.

“Well, It’s not here.” Lars sighs. “We’ll go grab it.” He grabs Kirk’s arm and drags him along.

Kirk protests and looks over at y/n, who is grinning at her brother and gives him a small wave.

“Why do I have to come along?” He whines, but walks with Lars anyway.

Y/n lays down and shuts her eyes. Feeling some movement beside her, she holds her hand in front of her face so that the sun won't bother her eyes, and looks up.

“Can I lay next to you?” James asks.

“Of course!” She tries to hide her excitement.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He grins and lays down.

Cliff starts laughing and lights another cigarette. He sits up and cracks open a beer. “You’re welcome, guys.”

Both James and y/n turn to look at Cliff with confusion, this only makes him laugh more.

“What?” He grins. “You got a little more freedom with Kirk gone, right?”

“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?” James raises his brows.

“The radio, I hid it under my bed.”

Y/n starts laughing too, she nudges James and hands him a bottle of sunscreen. “Could you get my back?”

“Yeah!” James' eyes widen and so does his smile. "Definitely!"

She turns around and loosens her top, making sure he gets every inch of her back. James puts some lotion in his hands and starts putting it on her back, squeezing every curve.

“I still don’t get the radio thing.” He whispers.

“Babe, he’s buying us some time.”

“Babe?” James grins. “Time for… oh, oh.”

His hands go a little lower, they slide over her waist and his fingers go down to her waist. He goes back to her shoulders and he gets closer to her ear.

“Could you put your arms up for me, babe?” He whispers.

She complies as she simply can’t answer him. She wanted to reply with a snarky comeback, but she couldn't. His voice sending shivers down her spine, she can feel his breath against her hair.

“There we go.” James gives the back of her neck a slight squeeze and his hands slide down her sides. He slowly caresses the side of her breasts and then quickly goes to her back, tying her bikini back up. “You’re all set, gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” She breathes out. Holy fucking shit, his hands feel good.

He lays down on his stomach and scoots a little closer to her, his fingers playing with the back of her top.

“Or do you want me to keep going?” He whispers. “I could if you let me.”

“Where are you getting all this confidence from?” She looks into his eyes, trying to read him.

James smiles and his hand wanders lower, sliding to the side of her bikini bottom.

“I finally figured out what I want.”

“And that is?”

“You, y/n. I need you.” He looks at her lips. “The way your lips felt on mine is driving me crazy.”

“Hm, you are a good kisser.” y/n smiles and turns to lay on her side.

“So are you, baby.” He slides his hand over her waist and he stops at her hips.

For a moment, they just stare at each other, he leans closer to her face. James’ weaves his fingers between the fabric of her bottoms, his gaze wandering as he admires her curves.

“Careful there, big guy.” She whispers, teasing him with a smirk. “We don’t want to give all these people a show here, do we?”

She glances at some beachgoers who are watching them fool around. She feels his eyes on her and turns to face him, raising an eyebrow flirtatiously.

“Hm, I don’t care.” James grins, leaning closer to her. “Please, I want you.”

“Don’t you think you need some too?” y/n grabs the sunscreen and holds it up, a mischievous smile on her face. “I wouldn't want you to get sunburned, baby”

“Oh, you’re mean.” he groans.

“So, you don’t want it?” She raises her brows.

“I want… something.” James looks at her through his bangs. “Please?”

She chuckles and lays down on her stomach again. The sun warming her skin and the waves crashing on the beach almost lull her to sleep. James huffs beside her and lays on his back. His hand creeps over her arm, tracing small circles over her soft skin.

After a while of enjoying the sun and each other's company, Lars and Kirk finally show up with the radio.

“There you are, what the hell took you so long?” Cliff speaks up.

“Why’d you hide it under your bed, dude?” Kirk huffs, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand.

“Dude, what?” Cliff tries to hide his smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, brother.”

The three bicker about the radio and y/n smiles, slowly closing her eyes again. The soft static of the radio and the crashing waves are really calming. She sighs softly and dozes off.

Y/n wakes up a little while later, not knowing how much time has passed. Her back feels a little sore and she immediately winces, she still got burned. She looks over at James, who also fell asleep and gasps.

“James!” She shakes him slightly.

"Mhm?" He opens his eyes. “Yeah?”

His entire chest and stomach are red, along with his face. This idiot didn’t apply any sunscreen at all.

“Dude! You got burned!” Lars yells. “Like, bad!”

“What?” James moves towards Lars and winces. “Ow, fuck! that burns.”

“Yeah, no shit.” y/n sighs. “You are so fucking stubborn.”

“It’s gonna hurt even more in the morning.” Kirk grimaces and looks at his sister. “You’re back looks fucked up too, sis.”

Y/n nods her head at Kirk. She stands up and puts on her dress, grabbing her stuff.

“You have to get out of the sun, James.” She says. “I have some Aloe vera lotion in my bag at the house, you can use it.”

James' eyes widen as he looks up at her, is this actually happening?

“Are you going with him?” Kirk raises his brows.

“Yes, I am.”

James doesn’t even speak, he is too busy grabbing his stuff. He’s almost like a madman, trying to find his shirt.

“Okay,” Kirk kisses the side of her head. “Be careful.” He gives her a knowing look and squeezes her shoulder.

“Ow!” She winces. “Kirk, that hurts!”

“Sorry!” He chuckles.

She walks away and nudges her head, motioning James to follow her. He doesn’t waste any time and runs after her. Lars throws him the keys to the house.

“Have fun, fuckers!” Lars yells after them.

“Dude!” Kirk groans and throws his shirt at Lars. “Please don’t!”

James and y/n walk home together, the walk back almost seems slower than it was before. Their hands dangerously close to each other, every time their fingers brush they share a look. He shoots her a quick and excited smile and she returns it.

James tries to unlock the front door but his hands are too shaky, eventually he gets the key in and opens it.

“It’s in my room, come on.” She grabs his hand and pulls him down the hallway.

They both walk into her room and she pushes him to the mattress. “Sit.”

James obliges and takes his shirt off, slightly uncomfortable with the feeling of the fabric against his sensitive skin.

Y/n finds the lotion from her bag and walks closer to him, crawling onto the mattress and pushing him on his back. “Can I sit?” she motions to his lap.

James nods his head so hard it almost falls off. “Fuck yes, you can.”

She smirks and straddles him, both of them letting out a quiet gasp. She can feel him hardening in his shorts and he can feel her heat.

“Mmh” She hums softly and starts to put the lotion on his chest.

“Ah!” He gasps. “That’s cold, y/n!”

She giggles and continues to take care of his sunburn. Her hands slide over his chest, softly squeezing her fingers into his shoulders. James looks up at her with nothing but love in his eyes, he squeezes her hips making her moan softly.

“Do that again.” James whispers.

She grins and leans down to kiss his chest, making her way up to his neck. He lets out a growl and leans up, smashing his lips onto hers. She kisses him back passionately and smiles into the kiss. James’ grip on her hips tighten as he flips her around, laying her on her back.

“James!” She gasps. “My back, remember?”

“Don’t worry, baby.” He whispers. “I’ll take care of you.”

He rubs the inside of her thighs and he goes a little higher, feeling how drenched her cunt already is.

“You’re already so wet for me, baby.” He smiles and starts kissing her neck. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

“James, please…” She looks up at him, begging for him to stop teasing.

“What? I have to prepare my girl, don’t I?” He smirks.

She pushes him back and takes off her dress, along with her bikini top. James takes off his shorts, his cock springing free, begging for some attention.

“Hmm, so pretty, baby.” He mutters, his eyes not leaving her breasts. “Fuck, you look perfect.”

James leaves another trail of kisses down her neck and breasts, his fingers playing with the hem of her bottoms. His other hand touching and squeezing her breast, while leaning up to kiss her lips hungrily.

“Can I take these off, baby?” James whispers against her lips.

“Yes, Fuck. Yes, you can.” y/n’s breath hitches in her throat. She looks up at James, her eyes glossy and her lips parted.

He slides them off, desperate to feel her cunt around his cock. James slides his hand down her belly and starts to run circles on her clit. She gasps and reaches for his cock, starting with slow and agonizing strokes.

“Fuck, you really like to play mean.” James stifles a moan and rubs his fingers over her folds.

“Don’t hold your moans in, baby.” She pouts. “Wanna hear you too.”

Y/n starts stroking him a bit faster, she feels her hand getting covered in his pre-cum.

“Ah! ngh- Fuck!” James lets out the moan that has been stuck in his throat. “mhm! y/n… gonna… gonna prep you for me, okay?”

She nods and kisses him again, moaning into the kiss as he slowly slides a finger into her drenching cunt. He starts finger-fucking her at a steady pace, the room is filled with sloppy wet noises and their moans.

He adds another finger and goes faster, curling up his index and middle finger to hit the right spot.

“Fuck, James!” She moans. “Your fingers… they… feel so good!”

“Yeah? You like how I work my hands on you, baby?” He groans and goes faster. y/n’s hand starts tightening around his cock.

“If you keep squeezin’ me like that, I’m not gonna last long.” James chuckles and leans down to kiss her again.

“Baby, ‘m close, please!” She moans and lets go of his cock.

“Cum on my fingers, baby.” He curls his fingers deeper into her and feels her cunt squeeze around them. All he can think about is how her pussy is gonna feel around his cock.

“Fuck!” y/n cums all over his fingers, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

James pulls his fingers out and sticks one of them into his mouth, tasting her juices. He lets out a delighted moan and sticks his other finger in her mouth. She sucks it clean without a single thought, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Wanna be inside you…” He mumbles. “Please?” His face gets a little more flushed.

“It’s cute that you ask so nicely.” She smiles up at him and guides his cock to her drenched pussy. “You gonna fuck me good, baby?”

“Mhm.” He slides his cock over her folds. “Gonna fuck you so good, baby.”

He slowly pushes it inside of her and starts bucking his hips into her. Y/n cries out in pleasure, he’s hitting all the right spots. James leans down to kiss her again and thrusts a little faster.

“Fuck!” James whines. “Been wanting to feel this pussy for so long!” He almost starts crying with how good it feels, how good she’s making him feel.

“James…” She moans “Keep going like that, please!”

“I will, baby. I will.”

She doesn’t feel the sunburn on her back anymore, she only feels the incredible amount of pleasure James is giving her. She wraps her legs around his waist which makes James pound into her even harder.

“Gettin’ close, baby.” James whispers against her neck. “I’m gonna need to pull out.”

She just nods, she doesn’t care what he does to her. She just wants to cum around his cock.

His thrusts are getting sloppier, meaning he’s gonna cum soon. He lets out some more strained moans and whimpers.

“Gonna… gonna cum.” He pants.

“Me too, baby.” y/n whimpers.

He makes her cum, her stomach exploding with pleasure. She’s almost seeing stars with how hard she’s squeezing her eyes shut. James lets out a grunt and quickly pulls out, finishing all over her stomach. He keeps fucking his fist to ride out his high.

“Shit…” James breathes heavily.

“Yeah…” Her chest moves up and down, trying to calm down from the pure ecstacy sensation.

“I’m sorry for the mess.” James has a stupid grin on his face, but that can’t hide the tremendous blush which reappears on his face. “Let me clean you up.”

He grabs one of the beach towels that were scattered on the floor and starts wiping her stomach. He throws the towel on the ground and lays down on her chest.

“You were amazing, baby.” y/n smiles and kisses him tiredly.

“So, were you, babe.” James smiles into the kiss.

They lay in each other's arms for a while, enjoying the comfortable silence between them. He has pulled her into his arms and they are softly caressing each other.

“Can I sleep here with you tonight?” He whispers.

“What do you think, baby?” She giggles. “You just screwed me silly, of course you can.”

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abbyslev · 5 months ago

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crazy- toji fushiguro x reader

SFW

a/n: if you guys want a part two i’ll be so down to do it!! love this sm. don’t mind any spelling errors, i’m tipsy writing this lolol

toji would curse shiu as long as he lived. bringing him to a bar? this fancy? one drink was over $13.

“how much longer of this crap?” toji stared down at shiu, fixing his rented suit. it was last minute, and though it fit him, he wasn’t used to wearing fancy crap like this. “it’s common courtesy to let the show finish before we socialize, fushiguro.” shiu teased, smoking his cigarette.

shiu had to meet up with some higher ups, dragging toji along since he’d be doing the real dirty work. toji denied at first, as this bar was meant for crazy rich people who had nothing better to do.

his eyes met the stage, where a beautiful woman in a black, skin tight gown held into a mic, singing. her beautiful, deep voice rang in his ears. he could give less shits about the music, but more so the woman amongst him. your long, beautiful curled hair. the smokey eye that made your beautiful eyes glint in the dim light, the used ashtray on the stool beside you, the red manicured nails, everything about you made him crazy.

“don’t eat her with your eyes, fushiguro.” shiu chuckled. “who’s she?” toji didn’t dare to move his eyes from you. “don’t know her name, but she’s a real eye candy. she’s here every weekend. real charming voice, too.” shiu lit a second cigarette. “go offer her a drink.” he added.

not long after you, another woman joined the stage. after a few quiet “thank you’s.” and polite bows, you left the stage.

toji had lost you in the crowd for a moment. he stood up, fixing his suit. “going to find her?” shiu smirked. “shut it, asshole.” toji huffed, making his way to the bar. he felt out of place, such a strong tall man, a serial killer, a gambler, mixed in with rich assholes who’d spit on him if they knew what he did and where he had come from.

“one yamazaki shot, please!” you waved down your favorite bartender. “make that two.” toji appeared from behind you. you turned around, eyes meeting the tall man’s eyes. you were used to men buying you drinks, trying to talk to you, even trying to slip money in your top. but for some reason, this man gave you a new feeling.

toji pulled out a stool for you, taking your hand as he helped you up. he took the chair next to you, watching as you took down your shot. he did the same, keeping his face from twisting up. expensive definitely doesn’t mean good.

“my names fushiguro. what’s yours?” “kamodo.” oh, rich family. of course. “no, not that kamodo. i couldn’t even dream of being part of that family.” you laugh as you see his eyes widen at your surname. “i was about to say.” toji smiled. “you have a beautiful voice, doll.” he complimented. “thank you, i appreciate you.” you giggle, setting your hands in your lap.

“i took you more of a vodka girl, maybe even sake. but whiskey?” he flirts, eyes your beautiful features. “what can i say? stuff gets boring around here, but expensive doesn’t mean good.” you look up at the colorful bar. “took two words right out of my mouth.”

“you from here?” he tilted his head. “no, i’m from tokyo, but business brought me down here.” sorcerer business. not that you were in it anymore. truth is, you came from the rich side of the sorcerer family, but the other half of your family was just a rich surname who lived normal lives. so, rich in both worlds. you hated saying it. you dropped sorcery after your sister had died from it. you were done protecting people.

“and you?” “i just float around, not really sure what i’m doing here tonight.” toji shrugged. “your buddy brought you here?” you looked at shiu, who was shaking a man’s hand. you order another round, slipping a cigarette from a golden case in your purse. “want one?” “i don’t smoke.” he shook his head. he took down the shot, watching as you did the same.

“gentlemen, aye?” “just looking out for myself.” “smart. your buddy over there, i wonder how many packs he goes through.” you inhale the warm air, exhaling into the air. toji stared at your collarbones, his imagination running wild.

“he doesn’t give a shit about his health.” “who does? i mean, we are at bar.” you laugh. you heel bumped his leg. both of you ignored it, continuing your conversation.

after plenty more shots and many cigarettes, you two were interrupted by tojis cellphone. “sorry, have to answer this.” he shook his head. you waved him off, stretching your back. it was mostly hushed whispers. “i’ll be home in an hour, the latest, just make sure he goes to bed, alright? and tell him to put them up.” toji hung up the phone, shaking his head.

“what? your kids being bad or something?” you laughed jokingly. “yeah, little brats being bad.” he put his phone up. “wait, you have kids?”

oh, how he fucked up.

why would a young woman like you ever get with a man with kids? he wasn’t ashamed of them, he was afraid of scaring you away. looking like a whore.

“yeah, two. ones from my wife’s previous marriage.” “you have a wife?” god, he just couldn’t make it worse, could he? “sorry, i have a bad habit of calling her my wife. she passed away a couple years ago during my sons birth. just so used to calling her that.” he gave up, just spitting out the truth.

“oh, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to overstep.” “no, i made it sound like i was an unfaithful man. i promise i’m not.” he mumbled. “it’s okay, i believe you. i know a lot of these men are cheaters. but you seem like an honest guy.” you gave him a smile.

“what are you waiting for?” you lean forward. “huh?” he snapped out of his trance. “show me those little shits! i wanna see!” you nudge his elbow. he felt a weight come off his chest. he scooted closer to you, opening his gallery. it was full of pictures of the two.

“this is tsumiki, and this is megumi.” “blessing.” you murmur. “yeah, i named him.” “he looks just like you.” you smile. “this is him on his first day of school.” he swiped to see a very snotty kid, looking like he could kick some ass. he swiped, showing megumi with a black and white dog. you recognized them. shikigami.

he was a sorcerer. toji kept rambling, assuming you had no idea what a curse was. or a sorcerer, or anything of that matter. you finally notice the man soften up.

“hey you two, time to wrap it up.” you hear a loud clap. shiu had his hand on tojis shoulder, pulling him off the stool. “oh, don’t be so cruel to the man.” you giggle. “it’s time for me to get goin, i promised those brats i’d be home earlier.” he helped you down from your chair. “hold on.” you dug in your purse, before pulling out a black pen.

you take his hand, feeling him stiffen. you wrote your number on the back of his hand, writing your full name under. he softened up after he watched what you were doing. you took his face, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “i’ll see you around, fushiguro. and tell those brats i said hey.” you waved at him, disappearing in the back.

“got yourself a date?” shiu teased. “yeah, i guess i do.”

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not-neverland06 · 1 month ago

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haunted past

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader

a/n: WARNING: loose recollection of the movie bc I don’t have the energy to rewatch it lol. I’m not planning on following games/book lore bc I don’t have the time to rewatch the eight-hour YouTube video covering it all. So, forgive me if I take some creative liberty. (Dark subjects following the themes of the movie/games below the cut, including the murder of children)

Summary: You'd thought you'd left the past behind. You never thought you'd be back at this place. It's the source of your every waking nightmare and the worst day of your life. Freddy Fazbear's is the catalyst of where your life went wrong, but when Abby's life is on the line, you have no other choice. Can you survive another night at Freddy's? (Part of my Halloween Palooza)

The door creaks open, one eye peeking through the crack. Mike taps his foot impatiently. He glances briefly down at Abby. She’s practically giddy with excitement as she waits for you to open the door. He knows it's only because you’ll let her watch whatever she wants on TV and don’t enforce bedtime.

He hates having to resort to bugging you about this. It’s not like he can pay you for all the times you’ve watched his sister. Relying on you for free labor isn’t exactly the best lead into asking you out—not that he thinks you’d actually give him a chance.

“Christ,” you prop the door open, just barely wide enough for your frame to fit in. You’re not especially welcoming. “What do you want now?”

Abby breaks free from his hold. She shoves through you and rushes into your house. You scoff, turning slightly to watch her. Mike rubs the back of his neck and grimaces. “Don’t tell me,” you stop him before he even gets a chance to start. “You’re back for unpaid labor?”

Mike’s face screwed up, even if it’s true, it still stings to hear. “Look, I’m sorry, I wouldn’t-”

“Do this if you didn’t have to,” you finish for him. With a brief sigh, you close the door and step outside with him. You’re in some of the skimpiest shorts he’s ever seen and an inappropriately flattering tank top. He’s struggling, as he usually does, not to just bolt.

He finds you hard to talk to. Not just because of his usual aversion to the general public, but simply because of how intimidating you are. Besides your already blunt personality, he’s rarely ever had a crush this intense before. It’s hard to stomach these feelings, especially when he knows there’s nothing to be done about it.

“I’ve heard the spiel before, Mike.” His face screws up at the bluntness of your words. You’re normally like this but you seem especially annoyed tonight. You take a seat on the rocking chair on your tiny porch and nod towards the other one. He takes it as a win that you’re not just kicking him to the curb.

You’ve made this place a home more than he’s bothered to. You’ve got a few potted plants littered around the porch, chairs, and your little glass table with an ashtray he’s never even seen you use. You don’t seem like a plant kind of girl, but they're doing better than any he’s ever attempted to take care of.

“What is it this time, anyway? And what happened to your other babysitter?”

He rolls his eyes at the mention of Max. “I haven’t been able to get in touch with her all day. She just left Abby home alone the other night.” Your eyes narrow with anger and you let out a loud huff.

“What a bitch,” you mutter, tucking your legs into your chest.

Mike shrugs and picks at the hem of his sweatshirt. He hates talking to you, he doesn’t know how to. He never knows if what he’s saying is irritating you or not, you’re so hard to read. He barely knows anything about you, yet you’re the closest thing to a friend he’s ever got.

“I’ve got a new job-”

“You didn’t tell me that,” you interrupt, and you almost sound… hurt? He doesn’t want to read too much into it, but he still offers you a whispered apology anyway.

“I’ve been pretty busy, all this shit with my aunt and rent,” he gestures vaguely to his house across from yours and lets out a tired sigh. His head falls into his hands and he scrubs his hands down his face. He hates burdening you with his problems. It’s not on you to be his on-call babysitter and therapist.

You place a light hand on his arm and for a moment he thinks he might be dreaming. You lean forward, forcing him to meet your eye. “Rent? Look,” your face screws up awkwardly and you force the next words out, “I’ve got money.”

“No,” he immediately interrupts, jerking away from your touch as his face sets in anger. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a beggar. He’s not telling you this to get a handout. “No, I don’t want your money.”

You scoff and cross your arms, glaring at him. “I’m not offering it freely. Consider it a loan, alright?” He opens his mouth and you cut him off with a pissed-off look. “Just shut up and wait here.” You get up, slipping back inside your home. He hears you through the open window as you greet Abby.

“How’s school?” You ask, rummaging through something.

“I don’t know, fine,” she answers vaguely.

He can hear you scoff in amusement, “Yeah, I hated school too.”

“Mac and cheese later?”

The door opens and you call a, “Sure, kid,” over your shoulder. It’s another reason he likes bringing Abby over to your place. You seem to be the only person she’s willing to give more than two words to. Besides, you can actually get her to eat somehow.

You approach him with a slip of paper in your hand. You shove it into his unwilling hands and he lets out a rough sigh when he sees it’s a check. “Don’t argue,” you snap, sitting back in your chair and refusing to make eye contact with him. “You’ll pay me back.”

He says your name and you shake your head, clearly uncomfortable. “Forget it, just tell me about the new job.”

He scratches the back of his head, debating whether or not he should thank you for the help. It’s not a lot, he knows you’ve got about as much to spare as he does, and he’ll still need to finish this job. However, it is enough to put some food on the table without worrying about every penny.

Still, you look incredibly disturbed by your own generosity, so he pockets the check and figures he’ll think of a different way to thank you. “It’s a security gig.”

“Really?” You smirk and turn towards him. “Someone hired you after what happened at the mall?” You give him a disbelieving look and he can feel the way his face heats up in embarrassment.

“Yeah, well it’s pretty creepy. It’s at the old abandoned pizza place. Freddy Fazbear’s.”

Any amusement on your face is drained and you give him a horror-struck look. “What’d you say?” You whisper, voice stricken by something he can’t decipher. For a moment, he doesn’t even want to answer you.

You’re completely unrecognizable, the usual stoicism he faces is replaced with absolute terror. “Um,” his brows scrunch in confusion and he clears his throat awkwardly, “Freddy Fazbear’s.”

Abruptly, you jump up from your seat and rush away from him. He watches as you run back to the door, his confusion only rising. He calls out your name but you just shake your head. “I gotta head inside, watch the kid.” It’s a rushed excuse and one he sees right through. “You should go.”

He doesn’t get a chance to question you as you slam the door closed. He gets up, but the lock clicks, and the window slams shut. Mike stands in front of your house, absolutely shocked by what just happened. He’s too confused to be concerned, wondering how what he just told you could have elicited that reaction.

With a low exhale he turns on his heel and walks back to his car. He throws one last glance over his shoulder at your house, but you’ve clicked off the porch light, completely blocking him out.

He shakes his head in astonishment, getting in the car and driving off to the pizza place. What the hell was wrong with you?

You’re glad Abby is in the bathroom as you catch your breath. Your back is plastered to your door, chest heaving as you fight off the oncoming panic attack. The last thing you need right now is her pestering you about what’s wrong.

You clench your eyes shut, but when you do all you see is a golden back and the sharp glint of a knife. Your hand drifts towards your abdomen, subconsciously lingering over the scar. Your eyes shoot open and you shake your head, trying to force the memories of the night away.

You haven’t heard that name in years, haven’t thought of it. You’d thought you’d gotten rid of it entirely. You should have known better, it was always going to haunt you. If you were less of a coward you would have moved away years ago and let the past be buried entirely. But you just couldn’t fully let him go, could you?

The sink runs and the door is thrown open as Abby comes back to the living room. You force yourself away from the door and offer her a tense smile. Her eyes narrow in suspicion and it’s the first time you’ve despised how clever she is.

“What’re you drawing?” You rush the words out, voice tight and panicked. You just need to distract yourself. You need to think about anything but that damn place.

Her suspicion gives way to her typical eagerness to shove her sketches in your face. You don’t know much about kids, but you know she’s not what people consider normal. Not that you mind. However, you’ve never been a big fan of children in general, they bring about bad memories for you. Watching Abby so regularly was happenstance when you greeted Mike as they moved in.

You’d never been the type to have freshly baked cookies and a welcome wagon for everyone in the neighborhood. For the most part, you all pretty much steered clear of each other. But Mike was cute and you felt like flirting for a little bit.

You hadn’t expected him to be quite so awkward, or for there to be a kid. In a desperate attempt to end the conversation and escape how stilted the whole thing was, you offered help if he ever needed it. And he needed a lot.

Now, your weekends have turned from one-night stands and hanging out with people you barely consider friends, to watching cartoons with a kid. You don’t mind it, but you’d prefer it if her brother were there to join you both. His stunted personality has a certain charm you find yourself drawn to.

“Here,” Abby takes a seat on the floor and you join her. You tap your fingers against your thigh, trying to soothe your heartbeat back to a normal rate. Your mind is racing in a million different directions as you take the picture from her.

It doesn’t help, if anything, you feel even worse. Bile and terror make for a bad combination as you stare down at her crudely drawn “friend.”

“That’s Freddy,” she tells you. “Chica, and Bonnie,” she’s all smiles as she points to the different caricatures. All you can do is nod, eyes peeled on the blue bunny.

“You’ve been with Mike to the new job, huh?” Your voice is airy as you flip the paper over and shove it away. Abby frowns, snatching it back from you and smoothing out the wrinkles your grip left behind.

“No. These are my friends.”

Terror makes way for concern as you slowly turn towards her. “What?” You ask quietly, not wanting to believe what you’re hearing.

“They’re my friends,” she repeats slowly, giving you a disbelieving look. She turns away from you, huffing and picking up her crayons again. You scramble to your feet, rushing to get away from her. You grab your phone book and run to the landline. You go over the F’s a million times, but you can’t find Fazbear’s number anywhere.

The entire night is turned into one long, agonizing wait for Mike to return home. You find yourself unable to eat or sleep. You move like you’re walking through a fog. Make Abby dinner, wait for her to pass out, and put her to bed. Then you sit and stare at the blank screen of the TV, just waiting for a knock on your door.

At 5:30, you finally hear it. You shoot off the couch, rushing towards the door and throwing it open. You know you must look insane, eyes wide and face drained of blood as you drag Mike inside.

He stumbles from your grip, giving you an affronted look as you slam the door closed behind him. He glances over his shoulder, making sure Abby isn’t woken up by the noise. “You need to quit!” You shove the words out in one rushed jumble.

His brows furrow and he shakes his head, not quite understanding you. “What?” He asks, scoffing and looking away from you. He glances towards the messy couch and then back at you. “Have you been awake the whole night?”

“Mike,” you grab him by the shoulders, squeezing until he winces from your touch. “I need you to fucking listen to me, you cannot go back. You can’t go back.”

He places his hands over yours, threading his fingers through yours and trying to ease your grip off of him. Neither of you pays attention to the fact that he doesn’t let go. “What are you talking about? I can’t just quit.”

“Mike,” your voice carries a desperation you rarely let yourself show. You know that it’s difficult for people to read you. You’re aloof on purpose, anything to keep people away. But right now, you need him to recognize how vulnerable you’re being. You need him to see the fear and panic on your face and just fucking listen to you.

“You need to leave that place behind and not look back, okay?”

He takes a step back from you and you know you’ve gone too far. You should have played it cool and approached the subject like a normal person would. But there’s nothing normal about Freddy Fazbear’s and you need him to know that.

Instead, all you’ve done is properly terrify him away from you. He releases your hands like they’re hot irons and stumbles a few steps away from you. He has a placating smile on his face as he nods his head shallowly. “Alright, sure,” he mutters, not meaning a word of what he says. “I’m gonna get Abby. Need to get her to school soon.”

He rushes down the hall and you let yourself fall into your kitchen chair. Your head drops into your hands and a hollow pit of despair opens up inside you. You did this all wrong. You always do. Every time you try and help someone it turns back around on you. No one believed you the first time, why would they now?

You hear him walk past you, Abby’s grumpy voice demanding to know why she can’t stay longer. “Now,” he snaps, opening the door and pushing her out. It closes and you finally lift your head, expecting them both to be gone.

Instead, Mike lingers by the door, he has a concerned look on his face as he approaches you. He kneels and opens his mouth with a low huff of breath, “Look,” his hands hover over yours like he wants to hold them. You tuck them away before he can, not willing to make eye contact with him. He shakes his head, stopping himself from whatever he was going to say.

He stands back up, glancing down at you with a frown. “Just try and get some sleep.”

That’s rich coming from him, but you don’t bother saying anything. You only nod your head, willing him to just get the hell out of your house and take his sister with him. You tried, you can’t say that you didn’t.

The door slams closed and you flinch at the noise, a flash of blue darting across your vision. You know it’s not real, it’s just a product of your lack of sleep. You can’t help searching for a pair of blue bunny ears, though.

Dread sinks deep in your gut as you think of losing the closest thing to a friend you’ve had in years. Preemptive grief weighs heavy on you as you get up and throw yourself onto your couch. You imagine the pain of losing Mike and let it be what lulls you into a restless sleep.

As insane as you were behaving yesterday, Mike still has little choice but to ask you to babysit once more. He hesitates, something is clearly going on with you. He’s never witnessed anything beyond vague disinterest in your interactions.

How you acted yesterday would be out of character for anyone, but coming from you, he’s worried that there might be something seriously wrong with you. He doesn’t need to burden you further with his sister, but he needs this job. He’s backed between a rock and a hard place.

He decides to come over without Abby, just to try and gauge how stressed you might be. Your porch light is on as he approaches the house, but he doesn’t see your car anywhere. He’s hoping it’s parked down the street.

He didn’t give you much notice that he was coming over, but you rarely leave the house. When he first moved in, you were gone every night and there was a new car besides yours every other week.

Nowadays though, you seem content to be a homebody most of the time. He’s about to knock on your door when he notices something pink shoved under the ashtray on your table. He frowns, his confusion only deepens when he sees his name scrawled in your unusually messy handwriting.

He unfolds the paper, eyes roving over the words in disbelief.

Mike,

In case you need my unpaid services again, call someone else. I’ve got a date tonight that I’m not gonna reschedule to deal with a kid that isn’t even mine. Maybe you’re right, you really should just give her up to her aunt. God knows you don’t know what you’re doing. You’re a bad friend, but you’re a worse brother. Stop dragging me into your mess and just sort your life out.

The further he reads, the more angry he gets. The paper is crumpled under his tight grip and he cusses as he tosses it into your rosebush. He doesn’t know what crawled up your ass and died, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with it tonight.

As angry as he is, that you could throw something like that in his face, he still can’t help but worry about you. There’s something very wrong with you, lately. But it’s not his problem to solve, you’ve made that abundantly clear.

You fiddle with the rings on your fingers, gnawing on your lip as your eyes dart out the window of your beat-up car. The longer you sit in this parking lot, the more guilt you feel. You know you wrote what you did for the best, but it doesn’t ease the sting of regret.

You wrote some nasty shit to Mike, throwing his deepest insecurities back at him like it meant nothing. But you needed to make sure he didn’t come looking for you. You needed insurance that after all this he wouldn’t want anything to do with you.

Freddy Fazbear’s dilapidated sign looms over you and you could almost cry looking up at it. You’ve run from this moment for so long. You’ve kept your back stubbornly to the past and refused to look.

Surging memories have been buried in alcohol and sex. Remembrances of the past have been erased. You cut off your family, friends, and anyone who knew what happened to you. Yet, you couldn’t leave this town. You could never leave him behind, not when you know he’s still in there.

The taste of bile has laid thick on your tongue since last night. You haven’t had a moment of true rest since hearing that name again, since seeing Abby’s picture. Never, have you labeled yourself as selfless or a hero. The whole reason you’re in this mess is because you’re a coward, through and through.

Now, in an ironic twist of fate, you sit in the parking lot of your childhood and you wait to sacrifice yourself to some higher entity so Abby might have a chance of surviving. You know that what you’re hoping to accomplish tonight is a pipe dream, that you’re more likely going to die than you are to achieve anything fruitful. But you’re never going to be able to live with yourself if something happens to Mike and Abby and you don’t do anything.

You can’t have someone else's blood on your hands again. You left Jeremy behind. You’re not going to do the same to them. You check the clock on your radio and suck in a deep breath. Adrenaline rushes through you as the sun slowly sets behind the pizza place.

Your blood is tingling with the anticipation of being spilled. There’s a phantom twinge of pain from the scar on your stomach. You wince through it, turning off the car and throwing the door open. You’re praying that you’ve left Mike without a babysitter and he won’t show up to his shift tonight.

You round the back of the pizzeria, frowning at the chain on the handle of the door. You brought bolt cutters for a reason, but you were hoping you might be granted a silent entrance. You cut through the chains and they clatter to the pavement, the noise echoes through the quickly darkening sky.

You roll your eyes, pushing the rusted door open and slipping inside. So much for the element of surprise. The hinges creak behind you and you whirl around, grasping for the handle. The door slams shut with a loud slam before you can stop it.

You shrink into yourself, glancing over your shoulder, already expecting someone to be standing at the other end of the hall. Instead, it remains empty. You don’t know if that's better or worse than what you were expecting.

You pull your flashlight out of your back pocket, shine it down the hall, and step silently over the tipped-over filing cabinets. The place is nothing like you remember it. Gone are the bright neon lights and the sound of children’s laughter.

Instead, it’s replaced by cobwebs, flickering lights, and a haunting silence that has chills rising along your arms. You keep one hand along the wall, ignoring the way dust seeps into the cracks of your palms. Your light darts between the ground and the cavernous dark before you.

There’s a suspicious shadow at the end of this hall that you don’t trust. It’s too dark, and you swear you feel eyes following you. But you can’t tell which direction they’re coming from. Something loud cranks at the end of the hall, the sound of gears grinding together stops you where you are.

You freeze, breath coming in short bursts of air as you slowly tilt the light towards the shadow. Before you can see what it is, a shrill, childish scream rips through the air. “Abby!” You shout, rushing towards the noise, ignoring the noises following quickly behind you. You burst through the door at the other end of the hall and freeze when you see Mike fighting off the cupcake.

You rush towards him, slamming the bolt cutters through the faux frosting before it rips his fucking arm off. He stares up at you in shock, he’s already covered in blood and bandages and you can’t even begin to wonder what happened to him.

He mutters your name in disbelief and you stumble back from him, letting the bolt cutters and animatronic drop to the ground. “Mike, what the hell are you doing here?”

He jumps to his feet, speaking to you with an accusatory tone, “What are you doing here? I thought you had a date,” you don’t miss the jealousy in his tone and you scoff.

“You almost had your arm gnawed off by an animatronic, do you really think this is the time for that?”

He opens his mouth, to argue or concede you’re not sure, and another scream rips through you both. You turn towards the side door and your face screws up in fear. “Tell me I’m wrong, tell me that’s not Abby.”

His answer is shoving past you, shouting his sister’s name. You follow after him, barreling through another door and stumbling back as you watch the scene before you. Foxy paces across the room, dragging his hook along the old arcade games.

Mike dives to the right, ducking behind a booth. You see his head begin to tilt towards you and you rush towards the stage, hiding behind it while you look around for Abby. You can’t see her anywhere and you don’t know if you should be relieved or throwing up.

Something loud clanks above you and the walls of the stage tremor under your hands. You clamp your lips together, swallowing down a whimper as you slink further down the stage. The wood vibrates again and you can’t help the slight gasp you let out.

Something clamps down on your shoulder, fuzzy and blue. You feel the metal pushing against the plush of the suit and he squeezes until you hear your shoulder cracking. There’s nothing that can stop the scream from ripping out of you as your bone shatters under his grip. Mike turns just as you're dragged onto the stage.

You’ve only got one arm you can feel now. The other drags along the wood, longer than it should be. You can’t even feel the pain, your blood is pumping so hard you’re blind to it. You lash out at the hand holding you, groping for wires and pulling the second you feel them.

It makes his grip loosen just enough for you to wiggle away from him. You’ve got oil coating your hand, blood drips down your arm. You can’t look, you know if you do, you’ll see your bones poking through your skin. If you look, you’ll pass out and there’s no telling what they’ll do to you then.

His eyes narrow in on you and you scramble weakly on your one good arm. Freddy’s disappeared, and you don’t know where to. You can only look on in horror as Bonnie stalks towards you. Dying at the hands of the friend you’d left behind. It seems poetic, in a way. But you know this isn’t him. This is what that bastard has twisted him into.

His good hand reaches out towards you and you do the only thing you can think of. “Jeremy!” He pauses, the orange light illuminating his plastic eyes flickering out only for a second. For a brief moment, you can see the frightened child within him once more.

Then, something latches onto the back of your hair and slams your head down until the world goes dark.

You glance around the pizzaplex, smiling as Jeremy blows out his candles. His parents hover behind him, bickering silently between each other. Jeremy looks at them, his big smile fading when he sees them fighting again.

“Hey,” you grab his arm as the other kids dart greedily towards the cake. “Wanna play hide and seek again?” He looks at his cake, but he’s never had a sweet tooth. You know he just wants to keep playing, his parents practically had to drag him away from the stage for this. Only to be too busy fighting to wish him an actual happy birthday.

Jeremy nods eagerly, jumping off the bench and following after you. You laugh, darting underneath the balloon arch Mr. Afton had brought out for him.

You and Jeremy come here every weekend, you’re practically best friends with his daughter Vanessa. She’s kind of weird, but you don’t hold it against her. Besides, being nice means Mr. Afton gives you both free pizza.

The only reason Jeremy’s parents could afford to rent this place for his birthday was because Mr. Afton had offered them a big discount. You dart past the stage and hover at the edge of the ball pit. “One-two-three, not it!” You press your finger to your nose, laughing as Jeremy is just a second too late. “You’re looking first,” you command, shoving him slightly away from you.

“Come on,” he whines, “it’s my birthday.”

“No cheating,” you tell him, practically stomping your foot. The big 8 on the paper crown he wears goes ignored as you point towards the booth behind you both. He lets out a loud sigh, stomping his way towards it and turning his back to you. He starts counting, loudly and skipping a few numbers.

You narrow your eyes at his back but don’t hold it against him. Someone hisses behind you and you frown, turning to see Vanessa peeking out from behind a curtain on the stage. She gives you a weak smile, waving you forward.

You look to your parents but they’re not paying attention as they talk to the other adults. You clamber on stage beside her, smiling up at Freddy and Bonnie. She grabs your wrist, not saying anything as she takes you to the back.

“Vanessa?” You whisper, growing a little scared at the darkness of the room. It’s a stark contrast to the bright lights outside.

“Shh,” she instructs, holding a finger to her lips and smiling. “Just wait here, okay? My dad says he’s got a surprise for you.” You watch as she leaves the room, you hear the lock click as the door closes and jump in surprise.

“Vanessa?” You call out again, hoping this is just a stupid prank and she’s coming back. Loud, clambering footsteps ring through the hall outside the front door of the room and you gasp. You look around for a hiding spot, something sick twisting in your stomach. You know Vanessa said it’s all a surprise, but you’re scared.

There’s nothing but empty animatronics around you. Mr. Afton told you to stay away from them, that the springlocks could hurt you. But you have nowhere else to go. You pop open the stomach of Sparky and curl yourself inside her, your eyes just barely looking through the top.

“This way, birthday boy,” Mr. Afton’s voice croons outside. He opens the door, motioning Jeremy inside and you can almost see his smile through the golden bunny suit he wears. You’re starting to feel a little silly. Mr. Afton’s always been nice to you, why are you so afraid all of a sudden?

Jeremy walks in, a bright smile on his face as he looks around the repair room. He stops in front of a run-down Bonnie and looks back at Mr. Afton. He’s in your blind spot, covered by a shelving unit. You can’t see what he’s doing, but you see the way Jeremy’s face drops.

“Mr. Afton-”

A golden hand shoves Jeremy’s face back. His brown eyes widen in surprise, the whites of them the only thing you can see. You can hear his muffled scream against Mr. Afton's paw.

Mr. Afton shoves Jeremy back, pressing him against Bonnie. Something silver flashes under the dim lights and you peek your head up. You watch as Mr. Afton runs a knife through Jeremy’s stomach and he shoves him into Bonnie's open chest. You clamp your hand over your mouth, dropping back down into Sparky.

Your knee knocks into one of the metal springlocks and you have to fight everything in you not to surge forward as it digs through your intestines. You squeeze your hand over your nose and lips until you feel like you can’t breathe so you don’t scream.

Blazing hot pain shoots through your stomach and legs, blood pools thickly down your dress and you can feel tears building along your waterline. Mr. Afton looks around the room, he rips the bunny head off and frowns. A vein bulges in his forehead as he calls out your name.

He wipes the knife off and hides it behind his back. He places Bonnie’s head over Jeremy, “Vanessa?”

A moment later the door creaks open and a sheepish Vanessa pokes her head inside. She looks around the room, frowning when she doesn’t see either of her friends. “Where is she?” Mr. Afton demands.

She shrugs, “I don’t know. I left her in here.” Her eyes narrow and she looks close to tears. “What was the surprise, Daddy?”

Mr. Afton lets out an irritated sigh and waves his non-blooded paw. “Forget that, we need to get back outside.” He rushes towards her, dragging the bunny head behind him, and shoves her back through the door.

The second he’s gone, you’re openly sobbing. Hot tears pour down your cheeks as putrid bile shoves against the walls of your throat. You push Sparky’s stomach open and gasp when you see the large hole in your stomach.

The other springlocks twitch threateningly as you tug at the one buried inside you. You take in a deep breath and rip it out, forcing yourself to leap away just as the others close. Your blood is dragged along the concrete as you crawl towards Bonnie.

“Jeremy?” You call out, head swimming so much you can’t even feel pain anymore. Your fingers are cold as you dig fruitlessly at Bonnie’s stomach. You tug and tug, falling back as the panel swings open.

You can’t see Jeremy’s head, you only see the springlocks digging into his small body. “Jeremy!” You scream, you scream so loud, Mr. Afton can’t even stop the parents from finding you before he does.

You pass out from blood loss before they reach you. In that time he manages to paint you as two misbehaving children. You snuck backstage and messed with animatronics you had no business being around. He said you both must have tried to wear the old suits and there was no way of proving him wrong.

So much damage was done to Jeremy’s body, that they wouldn’t be able to find a knife wound even if they knew to look for one. No one would believe you when you told them he killed him. They just thought you were trying to avoid getting in trouble.

Mr. Afton only managed to keep the pizzeria open for a few more years. But you never went back. You couldn’t. You never forgave him and you never forgot your friend.

The smell of cleaning products and the familiarity of a sterile hospital room greet you as you wake up. Your vision is slow to come back. Eyes foggy and blinded by the bright lights of the room you’re in.

Your fingers twitch at your side and you’re relieved to find your arm still works, even after it was practically shattered by a haunted puppet. You groan, squeezing your eyes shut and forcing them to focus. A messy head of brown hair lays at your side.

Mike is draped across the hospital bed, completely passed out. You find yourself smiling slightly at the sight. You slowly bring yourself into a sitting position and poke at him. “Mike,” you whisper, voice hoarse from lack of use.

There’s a throbbing in your head that pulses along your optic nerve. Your face screws up as you reach towards the bandages wrapped around your temple. You’re honestly just happy to even be alive. You can deal with migraines for a few weeks.

He jolts up, slightly disoriented as he stares at you. You offer him a weak smile and he lets out a sigh of relief. “You’re awake.”

“Apparently,” you mutter. You glance around him, a frown forming on your face.

“She’s getting some snacks,” he tells you before you can even ask. “Abby’s fine.”

You let out a breath of relief, sinking back into the pillows. Maybe it wasn’t all for nothing, then. “You knew them,” he says. “Or, the bunny, at least.”

You nod your head weakly, any energy you had has been sapped out of you from the relief that both Mike and Abby are okay. “Yeah, I used to.”

“Are you going to tell me how you knew them?”

You take his hand in your own, surprising the both of you. “Some other time, alright? I think I want a date first before we start trading childhood trauma.”

He stutters and stumbles over his words, brows furrowing as he gives you a disbelieving look. “Did you just ask me out? While you’re still concussed?”

“Are you saying no?”

He opens his mouth but quickly closes it. He lets out a low chuckle and shakes his head. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Abby comes rushing back into the room before either of you can say anything else. She smiles at you when she sees you’re awake. She jumps onto the bed, uncaring of the way her knees dig into your legs.

“Careful, Abs,” Mike scolds. You wave him off and he rolls his eyes.

“I made you something,” Abby tells you. She hands you a picture and you let out a sharp breath.

It’s you and Jeremy. Granted, crayon versions of the two of you. But it’s him all the same, as the boy you knew, no longer the monster he was turned into. You feel tears building in your eyes as you tug Abby into a fierce hug. “Thank you,” you whisper, holding the drawing close to your heart.

You’d like to pretend that you’ve gotten closure from all of this. Jeremy’s been put to rest and you can move on with your life now. Now, you can have a family again, have friends again. But that would be a lie.

You still feel him, as you always have. He’s a shadow clinging to your back, a haunted past you’ll never be able to let go of. He always comes back.

end. — I do not own the characters or the games/movie Five Nights at Freddy's (FNAF), but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schimdt fanfic #mike schimdt #mike schimdt x you #mike schimdt imagine #FNAF x reader #FNAF movie #FNAF x you #FNAF x fem!reader #Mike schimdt x fem!reader #FNAF imagine #FNAF movie imagine #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy's fanfiction #Belle's Halloween Palooza 2024

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pascalispretty · 9 months ago

Text

Come Take It Out On Me

Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2034

Warnings: enemies to lovers, snark, bondage, softly dominant Javi, oral sex (f receiving) (Javier Peña eats pussy like a champ), teasing

Summary: You and Javier may not know how to talk, but you certainly know how to fuck. (ao3)

Notes: Written for the lovely @survivingandenduring for the Space Sister's Valentines! The first fic I ever wrote on here was Javier Peña and enemies to lovers, and your prompt was such an inspiration to revisit that whole vibe. Also the song 'Good in Bed' by Dua Lipa was a major inspo. I hope you enjoy! (also unbeta'd because I cracked a bone in my foot, pls be gentle).

It’s late when you get back to your apartment. You had taken yourself out for a drink after work, dressing up in a tight black dress and a swipe of red lipstick. But the admiring looks and offers to buy you another drink irritated you more than they flattered you. Instead, you had made your way over to a payphone and punched in an all-too familiar number.

“Hey, Peña. You wanna come over and fuck?”

Not particularly subtle, but it got the message across.

Back home, you pour yourself a drink and settle in to wait. Your heels are pinching your toes, so you kick them off. You’re vaguely aware of the room becoming warmer, the heat clicking on as the temperature drops.

You’re topping up your wine when there’s a loud knock at the door. You nearly roll your eyes when you open it. Javier Peña has his arm braced against the doorframe, leaning into it like he’s posing for an advertisement for the tight Levi jeans he’s wearing.

“Hello, Javier. I was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about me,” you tell him, lifting your wineglass to your lips. He takes it out of your hand in a smooth gesture, draining it and shoving it back into your hand as he walks into your apartment.

“I wish,” he mutters, pausing to light a cigarette and helping himself to a glass of scotch from your bar. “I was late at the embassy; a knot needed untangling that had ‘CIA’ written all over it. The Castaño brothers seem to think you’ll hand them the whole country.” You top up your wine, smirking at him over the rim of the glass.

“You have a very misguided perception of what we do, Agent Peña. It’s not all toppling governments and hobnobbing with dictators.” Sitting on the armchair across from him, you tip your glass in a mock toast.

He sits with his legs spread apart, the tight jeans hiding absolutely nothing as he watches you. The silver-blue haze of his cigarette smoke hangs in the air between you, giving his features a strangely soft edge.

“Well, if anyone could find common ground with a dictator it would be you.”

“And yet, you’re here. What does that say about you?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. It almost always starts this way. The two of you can’t seem to help needling at one another, determined not to let a jab go unanswered. He’s too holier-than-thou for your liking sometimes, pretending that the DEA’s hands are so much cleaner than that of the CIA.

Unfortunately, somewhere along the way, the two of you discovered that all that tension somehow translated into pretty phenomenal sex.

“It says that payday is at the end of the month, and I can’t afford my usual.” Peña says, his mouth curving into a smirk. “Besides, you buy the good stuff.” He drinks more of his drink, pulling the ashtray closer with his free hand. You appreciate that even though he doesn’t particularly like you, he draws the line at ruining your rug.

“What can I say, I appreciate quality.” You say nonchalantly. “Which is why you’re here right now, and not some random stranger who couldn’t find a clitoris with a map.”

“We all have our talents. Are you going to sit over there all night? Even I might have trouble finding it from that far away.” He says it casually, but you know him well enough by now to pick up on the undercurrent of need in his voice. He’s not alone. That annoyingly familiar need had been making itself known in the pit of your stomach all night, that insistent itch that only Agent Javier Peña could really scratch.

You uncurl from the armchair, setting your wine down on the table. Javier looks up at you with those beautiful dark eyes as you settle into his lap. The seams of your dress strain to accommodate his body between your thighs, and you swear you hear a few stitches popping.

Up close, you can breathe the scent of him in. The leather of his jacket and the tobacco of his cigarettes mixes with something heady and masculine and him. You have no other word for it. You imagine that it would sell like crazy if somebody managed to bottle it as a cologne.

“Is this better?” You ask softly, looping your arms around his neck. He nods, eyes trailing down your body, lingering on the neckline of your dress.

“The view has improved.” He leans closer, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of your breast where your dress leaves it exposed. His moustache prickles the sensitive skin, his lips quick to soothe the scratch.

Your fingers slide into his thick hair. He’s still holding his glass and his still-lit cigarette, so after a moment he pulls away.

“I’d rather not light your rug on fire,” he says, leaning around you to flick the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray. With his now-free hand, he cups one of your breasts, squeezing gently. “You should wear dresses like this more often.”

“I’m sure that’d go down really well at work,” you tease, sucking in your breath as he hooks his index finger into the neckline, tugging it down further. The lace of your bra peeks out, the red vivid against the black of your dress.

Peña ducks his head again, trailing more kisses across the newly-exposed skin. Every brush of his lips is only making you wetter, even if he’s not doing much to encourage it. Bastard.

Though it’s not wholly unfair. You can feel him starting to harden underneath you, and you can’t help rocking your hips against him in encouragement. He nips at the curve of your breast, before leaning back.

“Take your dress off.” He gives you a little nudge with his hand, as if he wants you off his lap.

“So bossy, Peña,” you sigh, letting your nails scratch his scalp. You feel the shudder that runs through him, but he’s persistent.

“You like it when I’m bossy. Get up, and take your dress off.” He’s right. He might not know how you like your coffee or when your birthday is. But if there’s one thing Javier Peña knows, it’s what you like in bed.

You slide off his lap reluctantly, standing in the small space between the couch and the coffee table. While he finishes the dregs of his drink, Javier runs his eyes over you. There’s something so hungry in that look, like he’s deciding where to begin with a delicious feast.

The dress zips in the back, and you have to twist awkwardly to catch at the tab. With another man, it might make you feel self-conscious. But with Javier, all you can see is the want in him. The fabric loosens around your shoulders as you undo the zip, and you shrug the dress off in one fluid motion.

Peña casts an appreciative eye over your lingerie, leaning forward in his seat. When he reaches to set his glass down on the coffee table, he shifts so close that his hair nearly tickles your abdomen. A soft, disappointed sound escapes you when he doesn’t touch you, when he doesn’t take the opportunity to haul you back into his lap. Instead he just looks up at you, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Gorgeous,” Javier murmurs, almost to himself. With one last lingering sweep down your body, he stands up. There’s barely an inch between you, your calves bumping against the edge of the coffee table as you shift back to accommodate him.

“Take me to bed?” You ask. Peña doesn’t say anything for a moment. One of his large hands comes up to cradle your jaw with a gentleness that never fails to surprise you. His fingers are warm on your skin, and you find yourself melting into his touch once more.

“Bed,” he agrees, his thumb gently sweeping over your lower lip before his hand drops back to his side. You lead him towards your bedroom, even though he knows the way by now. He’s been here more times than you can count.

At the threshold of your bedroom, Javier loops his arms around your waist. Your back moulds against his chest, his nose brushing your temple as he leans to whisper in your ear.

“Do you want the belt tonight?” He murmurs, and you nearly melt into a puddle at his feet. The belt is something Javier indulges you in occasionally. He’d drawn a hard line at bringing his handcuffs into the bedroom. The two of you had compromised with softer things; a silk scarf, his ties, a pair of stockings. And, of course, his belt.

“Yes please.” Your eyelashes flutter closed as Javier presses soft kisses down the line of your neck, humming contentedly against the skin. His clever fingers have your bra undone before you realise he’s moved his hands, and you let him slip it off you without complaint.

One of his hands moves to your waist, encouraging you to turn around. Every brush of his fingertips sends more warmth pooling in your core, the gentle brushes of his skin against yours making you shudder. Without him having to ask, you offer him your wrists.

Peña takes his belt off with one hand, a move that you’re almost certain he’s practised. It’s so attractive that you don’t even tease him about it. Instead, you find yourself taking a shaky breath as he loops the soft leather carefully around your wrists.

You could slip out with ease if you wanted to – it’s part of the reason Javier agreed to the belt as a compromise when you’d asked him to tie you up. You’re at a loss to explain why the buttery leather around your wrists makes you feel so good. Satisfied that it’s not too tight around your wrists, Javier gives you a small, but unmistakable, smile.

With a gentle push of his hand on your waist, Javier encourages you backwards until you’re lying on the bed, your arms stretched above your head.

“Que bonita,” he murmurs, settling himself between your legs. He’s still fully clothed, aside from his belt, and it makes you feel more exposed by comparison. One of his warm palms slides up your leg, squeezing the inside of your thigh before coming to rest agonisingly close to your core.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” One of his fingers brushes against your core, making you jump. “You’ve soaked your pretty panties.” The edge in his voice makes you whimper, your legs falling further apart for him. He slides your underwear off with ease, and before you can catch your breath, the warm heat of his mouth envelops your clit.

It’s nearly painful, how good it feels. His full lips wrap carefully around the bud of nerves, applying just enough pressure to make you wail. Your head is spinning with the pleasure of it, your world shrinking down to your body and Javier’s mouth. You clutch at the pillows above your head, moaning with abandon. Fuck your neighbours. If they knew Javier Peña, they’d understand.

He lets go of your clit and nuzzles against your slick folds, his tongue lapping hungrily at your flesh. The noises he’s making are obscene, muffled groans mixing in with the wet sounds of his mouth.

Then, as abruptly as he’d started eating you out, he stops. The loss of his mouth is devastating, and you’re about to wail at the unfairness when his hand slides up your body. His warm palm forms a loose necklace about your throat as he looks down at you, his chin wet with your slick.

“If I let you come while I eat your pussy, do you promise to let me make you come on my cock too?” He asks. He’s entirely serious; you’ve never met anyone who takes pleasure quite so seriously.

“God, yes. Knew I did the right thing by calling you,” you tell him, practically slurring your words. He gives you that smile again, a gleam in his eye as he trails kisses down your body.

“You can always call me, baby.”

#javier pena x reader #javier pena fic #narcos #spacesisterssecretvalentine

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odyssean-flower · 1 year ago

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The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 2 - Spring: Three Meetings and a Proposal

Masterpost Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: Somehow, you keep running into Neuvillette. When something unexpected happens, he offers you an unexpected proposal. Warnings: None except for restrictive gender roles, also for some reason Fontaine’s regency england (sort of) now? Note: I update this story on AO3 first so please go over there if you'd like to read it faster

Have a picture of neuvillette standing next to the skull of Oroboshi

Previous | Next

A month had passed since that unexpected encounter. You hadn’t told anyone about it, because it felt unreal even to you. Maybe you really had drank too much champagne.

In any case, the events of the ball were quickly forgotten amidst the immense preparations you had to do to obtain your governess license. It was a long, grueling process that involved leaving your hometown and moving all the way to the city, but it was about to bear fruit at last. After one last history exam, you would finally obtain your license and be able to advertise your services in the newspapers and bulletin boards.

And then, you would finally be blissfully freed from all those marriage-hunting obligations. No more balls, no more disappointments...

It was those thoughts that kept you going as you stared at the tiny words in your history textbook while being surrounded by people who seemed determined to scream their lungs out today.

“Get him, get him!” your sweet, adorable sister shouted next to you.

“Send him to jail!” her new beau also shouted from next to her. I’m pretty sure one can’t be sent to jail for hoarding ashtrays, you thought, but said nothing. He probably couldn’t even hear you, anyways.

Today, you were forced to chaperone your sister and the viscount’s son on their “romantic engagement.” Said “romantic engagement” happened to be attending a trial at the Opera Epiclese. Apparently, this was a popular date spot for young couples. It was things like these that made you feel dreadfully old and out of touch sometimes.

The seats were packed for today’s trial, for good reason. This trial was just one part of a lengthy divorce proceeding between a celebrity couple, in which they were trying to figure out how to divide their many, many assets. It was akin to a serial and even had its own dedicated column in the newspapers.

You glanced over at your sister and the young lord. They were whispering together and giggling. Even though the viscount’s son seemed a bit, for the lack of a better word, dopey, from your short interactions with him you could tell that he was a good-hearted and generous young man. Plus, there was a certain charm in watching him and your sister getting closer, the same feeling one would get from observing two cute puppies playing together. Perhaps your mother would live to see one of her daughters get married after all.

You looked back down at your book. You were on the chapter about Remuria, one of your favorite subjects. You loved reading about that long-deceased God King and his drowned empire of music. You knew that there were extensive ruins from that period near the town of Petrichor, but it was much too far and dangerous (without shelling out the exorbitant amounts of money for protection) to go there from the Court of Fontaine, so you could only ever dream of visiting there.

The cacophony faded into the background as you became engrossed in the topic.

It felt like no time had passed before you felt your sister shake your arm. “Sister, Sister! The trial’s over! Let’s go.”

You looked up to see people walking past you towards the exit. Judging from their chatter, the wife seemed to have won. What she was going to do with a vault of ashtrays, you had no idea.

You snapped your book closed and followed everyone else out. “I don’t know how you can read that boring book when there’s such an exciting show going on,” the viscount’s son commented, eyeing the thick textbook.

“Oh, that’s one of Sister’s special powers! The ability to read anywhere, no matter how loud or unsuitable the place is. I don’t know how she does it,” your sister chimed in.

“You can learn it too, you know, if you apply yourself to it,” you informed her.

“Ugh, you’re already talking like a governess,” your sister pouted.

“A governess? You want to be that?” the viscount’s son said, sounding incredulous. Seriously, why does everyone sound so shocked when they hear about it? “I had a governess once. She was always alone and wasn’t even allowed to eat with the family. Seems like a rather miserable job if you asked me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told her, but she won’t change her mind! She kept talking about how it’s ‘her role in life’ and her ‘fate.’”

You tuned the two out. You had heard variations of this conversation too many times over the years.

Once the three of you reached the main hall, the darling couple decided to go get some refreshments while waiting for the rain to subside. You decided to sit on one of the comfy stuffed couches under the stairs and resume your studying.

The words on the pages flowed into your brain. Remus...Sybilla...harmosts... what would it be like to live in that era? Or at least, to walk the places where these words were once part of everyday life? To touch the artifacts—the once-cherished, once-used items—of the people from back then?

You shook your head. Sometimes, your mind would drift to things that weren’t anywhere on the horizon of your life, just like how you would sometimes indulge yourself by reading romance novels and light novels from Inazuma. No, you needed to hone your mind and focus on your reality. You were in no position to move off your pre-determined path. You needed to think about how you were going to teach these concepts to children—

“Good day to you, Miss [Name].”

You nearly jumped at that voice. A very familiar voice. Knowing who you were going to see, you stood up with your head bowed.

“Good day to you, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

You lifted your head. The man himself was standing in front of you. You had only ever seen his face in the papers and only met him once (in the dark, no less), but you thought he seemed a bit fatigued. You couldn’t blame him, though. You were sure you would feel the same if you had to preside over such a ridiculous series of trials.

“I do apologize for disturbing you,” Neuvillette immediately said upon seeing your face. Maybe your poker face wasn’t as good as you thought.

“It’s alright, Monsieur. I don’t mind.” You tried your best to sound like you meant it.

“May I sit down?” Neuvillette said after a pause. You nodded, and he proceeded to sit next to you. You moved all the way to the other end of the couch. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed you two, considering how this couch was somewhat hidden away from sight, but you couldn’t take any chances. A governess’s job prospects hinged on having a spotless reputation, after all.

“Are you here with someone?” Neuvillette asked.

“Yes, Monsieur. I’m chaperoning my sister, who has been invited on a date here.”

Speaking of your sister, you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see how the two lovebirds were faring. They were currently in the process of choosing from a large menu, giggling and nudging each other as they did so. They probably weren’t going to be finished any time soon.

“Date...” Neuvillette mused. “Yes, I’ve heard that it has become quite a trend among young people to have romantic engagements at the Opera. I must admit, I don’t quite approve of having the sanctity of trials be used for such purposes.”

“I agree,” you nodded. “Although since trials are already spectacles, I suppose this isn’t so preposterous.”

“You certainly don’t mince words, Miss [Name].” there was an amused note in his voice. All you could do was shrug and smile. It wasn’t like you could refute him.

Another awkward silence. Maybe you had offended him with your comment? You didn’t really know why he would be offended though, considering that trials in Fontaine were like performances.

“What did you think of the trial, Miss [Name]?”

You had to think about it for a minute. It felt like you were being quizzed on something you hadn’t studied for. “I think they are both idiots, Monsieur. They would save everyone’s time by dueling it out between themselves.”

Neuvillette blinked for a minute, and then a small laugh slipped out his mouth. You took that to mean that he agreed with you.

His lilac eyes moved to the thick textbook in your hand, seeing it closely for the first time. His brow furrowed. “Were you reading that during the trial?”

Under his puzzled gaze, you felt like you had done something wrong. “Um, yes. Not out of disrespect for the proceedings, I assure you, Monsieur. But I have an important exam for my governess license coming up, so I need to grab any chance I have to study for it.”

“Studying in such a chaotic environment... you’re very dedicated to your goal. I can think of a few people who might be able to learn from you.”

You didn’t hear any sarcasm in his voice. He sounded genuinely impressed. You felt your shoulders relax. It had become an unfortunate tendency of yours to become defensive when you talked about these things. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“What are you studying?” He leaned closer to you. How long is he going to stay here?

“History, Monsieur. I was reading about the older periods of Fontainian history like the Remurian Dynasty,” you opened your book and flipped to the chapter.

He tilted his head to the side as he looked at all the underlined passages and marginal notes on the pages. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe that the subject of Remuria would make up such a large portion of the exam that it would warrant all these notes. Is it a personal interest of yours?”

The idea that Neuvillette knew what was on the exam was surprising. You didn’t think it was something he would have much knowledge of, but since he was the head of the Maison Gestion, which administered the governess exams, maybe it wasn’t so surprising?

“...I suppose it is,” you said at last.

"What do you like about it?”

That question caught you off guard. "I just...do,” you said at last. “The story of that civilization is very fascinating to me, so I couldn’t help but read more about it.”

No one had ever asked you about this, so you didn’t know how to answer it.

Neuvillette looked down at your notes again. Was he reading them? You had the urge to close your book. Somehow, it felt like a violation of privacy, like he was reading your diary.

You were saved by the footsteps running up to you. “Sister! Sorry we took so long! We got the—oh Archons, is that Monsieur Neuvillette!?”

Your sister and the young master were both holding boxes of Conch Madeleines in their hands, staring at the Chief Justice with identical expressions of shock. You might have laughed if the atmosphere ’t so serious.

Neuvillette stood up. “Good day to you both,” he nodded towards them, then to you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

The three of you watched as he left. Once he was out of earshot, your sister turned to you excitedly. “Sister! You know the Chief Justice?”

“I don’t,” you said, which was a half-truth. You really didn’t know him. “He just came up to me and started chatting.”

“Really?” she lifted an eyebrow. “The Chief Justice, who is so notoriously private that he rarely even does interviews, just randomly struck up a conversation with a stranger?”

“Look, I wish I could give you a good reason, but I can’t.”

Your sister continued to stare at you with narrowed eyes. You were usually pretty good at lying to people thanks to your excellent poker face, but your sister was one of the few people who could see right through you.

“Hey, it stopped raining!” Luckily, you were saved by the viscount’s son’s shout. “That was quicker than I expected.”

With snacks in hand, the three of you left the opera house and headed towards the aquabus station.

The exam day came, and in your honest opinion, you performed excellently. The questions were so easy that you could answer them in your sleep. The results would be finalized next week, and you knew for certain that you had qualified with flying colors. You handed the exam to the invigilator and left the Palais Mermonia with a spring in your step.

Now that you had the rest of the day free, whatever shall you do? Well, since the weather was so nice out, you thought you’d go to the Café Lucerne and get some Conch Madeleines as a celebratory snack. You had brought along your treasured copy of The History of the Decline and Fall of Remuria Volume 1 as well. Just the thought of spending the day eating sweets and reading your favorite book in the warm sunshine brought a smile to your face as you walked towards the elevator.

The thought distracted you so much that you didn’t notice the other occupant in the elevator until they cleared their throat. You spun around. It was as though fate was playing some kind of sick joke on you, since it was Neuvillette—who else could it be—standing in the tiny elevator space with you.

You thought about excusing yourself and leaving the elevator, but it was already descending.

“We do seem to meet quite often, Miss [Name],” he said. “My apologies.”

“Yes, we do indeed, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you said, resigning yourself to your fate. Why did he apologize just now?

“Did you have business at the Palais Mermonia today?” he asked.

“Yes. I had to write a history exam for my governess license.”

“Ah, I see. I wish you luck in passing.”

“Thank you, Monsieur,” you smiled and nodded.

An all-too-familiar silence fell. Couldn’t this elevator go any faster? It felt as though this shaft was going on forever.

You racked your brain for something to say but came up empty. You and Neuvillette simply lived in two completely different worlds. In situations like these, it was better to stay silent and pretend to be invisible, in your experience.

“So, Miss [Name], what do you think of the fall of Remuria? Do you believe it was truly predestined?”

“Huh?” That was the last thing you expected to hear.

Neuvillette repeated his question.

“I heard you the first time, Monsieur...I was just confused as to why you asked me that.”

“I simply want to know what a scholar of history like yourself thinks about it. I’ve asked this question to several others, and I’ve always received different answers. It’s very fascinating.”

A scholar of history? You felt embarrassed at how your heart lifted at hearing yourself described as such.

“Well, if you don’t mind listening to the opinions of an untrained layman like me, Monsieur...”

You cleared your throat and began to launch into the theory you had been brewing inside your head for several years. As you talked, the two of you walked out of the elevator and into the main hall, where people gawked at the Chief Justice listening attentively to a plain-looking woman prattling on about Remus and Boethius.

You noticed none of these things, for you had gotten too carried away with the excitement of finally having the opportunity to express your opinion on things that you actually cared about. You also didn’t notice the soft amusement in Neuvillette’s eyes as he observed you.

“...And so, I believe that Remuria might have lasted for much longer if those in power didn’t covet the things that weren’t meant for them, and instead focused their energies on preparing for their inevitable fate,” you concluded as the two of you neared the Café, then smiled up at him triumphantly. It was then that you realized that you had been the only one talking for the past fifteen minutes. “Oh, my apologies, Monsieur. I got carried away. It must have been dreadfully boring to hear me talk on and on.”

“Not at all. I was the one who asked, and it’s fascinating to hear such long-ago events from the perspective of a modern young lady. Have you ever considered becoming a historian or an archaeologist?”

Your good mood immediately faded upon hearing that. “No, Monsieur,” you said, sounding curter than you meant to. “I have not. Being a governess is my sole goal in life.”

Neuvillette seemed to sense your shift in mood, and the corners of his eyes lowered in regret. “My apologies. I have overstepped my bounds. But still, I do believe that the academic world is missing a brilliant mind like yours.”

You knew he was just being kind, but you still couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. And guilty. Your personal issues weren’t his problem. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“I must admit, I had a very different impression of you from when we first met.”

“You did?” What he said baffled you. You always considered yourself to be a straightforward, “what you see is what you get” kind of person.

“Yes. I assumed you to be much more somber and cynical, but you’re nothing of that sort. You’re much livelier and passionate than you seem.”

“No, I’d say you were right the first time, Monsieur,” you said, amused. Lively and passionate were not words you had ever heard yourself associated with. “I think everyone acts different when they’re talking about the things they like, because they’re really talking about themselves. For instance, my sister loves to tease most of the time, but she gets deathly serious when it comes to shoes. I’m sure even you have moments like that, Monsieur.”

“No, I’m afraid not. My emotions are not so mutable or varied as yours.”

“Hmm…” you stared at him. It was true that his face wasn’t very expressive, but many people had said the same thing of you and assumed that you were unfeeling, which you knew wasn’t true. Perhaps it was the same for him.

The scent of coffee caught your attention as you realized that you were standing in front of the Café. “Ah, this is where I was heading, Monsieur. Would you like to, ah, join me?” you said awkwardly.

“I would be delighted to, but I am in fact invited to the opera house for a special performance, so unfortunately, I must decline.”

“A performance, huh. That sounds wonderful. Well, I mustn’t keep you then. Goodbye, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

“Goodbye, Miss [Name]. Have a lovely day.”

You watched him as he left. You had been looking forward to your reading time, but now you couldn’t help but feel a little lonely.

“Congratulations, Miss [Name], you are successfully qualified as a Court of Fontaine-licensed governess.”

The Gestionnaire’s monotone voice did little to dampen your excitement! You did it! After all your hard work and perseverance, you had finally obtained what you longed for.

“Now, you will be placed on the waiting list.”

You felt your smile drop off your face. “Waiting list?”

“There is a large volume of applicants whose applications are waiting to be processed before yours. Not to mention, there is currently a surplus of governesses in Fontaine. You need to wait for the older ones to retire before taking their spots,” the Gestionnaire dropped their voice to a whisper. “I would advise you to reconsider your career aspirations. If you want, you can also be placed on the waiting list for schoolteacher licenses.”

You frowned. School teachers were a somewhat less respectable profession for noble ladies than governess. It wasn’t as bad as laborer or factory worker, but it was still cause for other nobles to gossip about your family behind their backs.

For poor, low-ranking nobles, a spotless reputation was as valuable as gold. Any perceived blemish could attach undesirable labels that would take generations to erase. You thought of your beautiful, angelic sister, smiling so happily with that viscount’s son. That fragile relationship could be so easily snuffed out by a single bad rumor.

There were other jobs open to you, such as lady’s companion. However, you knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t last very long in a role like that.

But on the other hand, you were desperate. You needed to fulfill your role for the sake of your family’s future and your own.

“Okay, put me on that list too,” you nodded tightly. “How long is it?”

“For both lists, it would take at least a year before we reach your application.”

“A year!?” you said. You hadn’t intended to sound angry, but the Gestionnaire recoiled. You forced yourself to calm down. Getting angry wouldn’t help your case.

A year was far too long. You lived in a boarding house in the centre of the city, and your savings were running out quickly. You didn’t even know if you would be able to pay next month’s rent. As a governess, you were supposed to receive a stipend for the first few months after obtaining your license as you searched for work, but those hopes were now dashed.

You thanked the Gestionnaire and left the Palais Mermonia with heavy steps, eventually ending up at the Café Lucerne. You considered going to a tavern to drown your sorrows in drink but decided against it. You were angry and frustrated, yes, but not to the point of doing something so foolish.

So, instead of a nice bottle of alcohol, you ordered five bottles of Fonta. Maybe you could drown your sorrows with their refreshing taste instead.

You slumped in your chair as you guzzled down the first bottle. You didn’t get it. You had worked so hard to fulfill the role granted to you by fate, and yet an obstacle was inexplicably placed on your path. It was such an inoffensive, unassuming role, so why...?

And what were you going to do from now on?

You could go home. Your family lived in a small town that was some distance away from the Court of Fontaine. But you would rather not. You had moved out in the first place to alleviate the financial burden on your family, and if you did move back, you would have to endure your mother’s tireless attempts to find you a husband.

You tilted your head back and stared up at the sky. It was a clear blue, not a single cloud in sight. It felt like it was mocking you.

Just then, a pale face framed with long silver hair blocked your sight. Lilac eyes looked down into your own.

Of course he would be the one to witness your current state. You wouldn’t be surprised if you went home and found him in your sitting room at this point.

“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you stood up and curtseyed half-heartedly. “As you can see, I’m no state to keep you company today. Please feel free to converse with someone else."

Neuvillette did not leave, but instead surveyed your surroundings. His brow furrowed at the bottles of Fonta.

He sat down across from you.

“My apologies for being so presumptuous, but I simply cannot stand by and watch you in such a state. Please, tell me what is distressing you.”

You stared at him. He was leaning forward, his eyes brimming with concern. Even though you barely knew him and was still considering just excusing yourself and leaving...

You sat back down and told him what just happened and your current circumstances. As you did so, you felt hot tears building up at the back of your eyes. You squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop them from coming out. You prided yourself on never crying, on taking what life threw at you without complaint. But there was also another reason, something you were surprised to admit even to yourself.

You didn’t want Neuvillette to see you cry.

It was a pathetic wish, but you wanted to show your best side to him. You wanted him to keep being impressed by you.

You didn’t know if Neuvillette picked up on your feelings. You hoped not. If he tried to comfort you, you would really lose control.

It felt colder than it did a few seconds ago. The area darkened; the shadows of clouds casted onto the ground. You could hear the people around you discussing if it was going to rain. Perfect. You would welcome rain at this point.

Neuvillette didn’t say anything for a while after you finished talking. You wondered if he understood what you told him. Surely the Iudex, the highest authority figure in the land next to the Hydro Archon, would find the concept of financial issues foreign?

You decided to grab another bottle of Fonta. But just as you reached for it, Neuvillette’s hand blocked yours and gently placed it down on the table.

Unaware of your reeling, he spoke in a quiet voice. “I can see that you’re in an extremely difficult situation, Miss [Name]. It troubles me greatly.”

You simply nodded. What else was there to say.

“I would like to propose an... unorthodox solution to your problems. One that would be beneficial for both of us.”

You looked up at him at that. You had expected him to tell you to go back home and tell your parents what happened and obey their wishes. But Neuvillette himself was offering a solution? What could it be?

Every nerve in your body was telling you that this could lead to nothing good. You usually trusted your instincts, as they were always right, but currently you were desperate enough to listen to anything.

“What do you propose, Monsieur?”

“Marry me.”

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#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x female reader #my works #the winding path of fate

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