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mindtrcks · 4 months ago

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asmr | CL16

Charles has been having trouble sleeping. Your videos seem to be the only thing that helps.

WC: 5.4k

Notes: performance coach!reader who dabbles in asmr (but only for charles <3), smut, phone sex/mutual masturbation.

Charles has been having trouble sleeping lately.

It could be because of timezones, or how much coffee he drinks. But it probably has more to do with the way he’s been watching the Drivers Championship slip further and further out of his grip with every passing week. But to admit that would be to admit that he’s losing control of the car, and with it, himself. To admit that would be to admit that there's nothing he can do about it.

So he claims that he’s merely been a little restless at night. He’s told to try calming teas before bed, so he does. But then he just has to get up and use the restroom. He counts hundreds of sheep without getting tired, and ocean noises and whale sounds just pound around in his skull until he turns them off. He tries picturing the schematics of the SF24 in his head until he has a perfect rendition in his mind. But then he thinks of how it feels to drag it back into the pits, and works himself up so much he can’t even close his eyes.

He’s growing more than just a little restless. He thinks he might be getting desperate.

—

“Have you tried warm milk?” Andrea asks him, when Charles shows up to training with bags under his eyes, yet again.

“Yes, no luck,” he answers. He doesn’t know a kind way to say that he’s tried everything that appears on the first five pages of google when he searches for insomnia remedies, including an American military tactic that’s supposed to work in ten seconds. (Charles has found it doesn’t work at all.)

Andrea makes a sympathetic sound and begins to guide Charles through a warm-up. His limbs don’t stretch as far as they would if he had gotten a good night’s sleep.

As he struggles, your voice calls out, from the corner, “Wait, he’s allowed to eat dairy?”

And that is something he is still getting used to. You, shadowing his sessions with Andrea. You’re preparing for your transfer to a team that shall not be named, as you like to say. Charles figures it must be a team that pays well, because you take the NDA quite seriously. When Andrea first told him about the arrangement, he worried it would be awkward, but he quickly found the opposite to be true. You talk quite a lot for a soon-to-be head performance coach. It’s comfortable. He likes your chatter, even if it’s a bit inane at times.

“Drink dairy,” he corrects, just to hear you huff.

The satisfaction is short-lived, though, because then Andrea’s hands are on his shoulders, pushing him further into his lunge, and deepening the burn in his thighs. “Milk is healthy,” Andrea tells you, sounding like a professor. Like he really thinks you don’t understand the merits of drinking milk. Charles just thinks you want to be difficult. “Also, he has an ice cream company.”

“Yeah, but I didn't think he started it for the love of ice cream. Plus, everybody makes it seem like drivers can only eat gruel. I need to shadow a nutritionist or something.”

Andrea lets him stand up, and instructs him to start stretching his arms now. “You don’t have to make the meal plan,” he says, once adequately satisfied with Charles’ form. “They can just find Dan—”

You interrupt him with a gasp and a rushed, “Shshsh,” not quite a shush, but something close. Like calling a cat. “You can’t say who it is,” you say, waving your arms. But then you freeze, and Charles can see the moment your face lights up with an idea. He knows, instinctively, that it can’t be good. “Wait. Charles, have you tried ASMR?”

He briefly debates lying, but he’s not sure he has a good enough poker face to get away with it normally, much less when Andrea pulls his arm up and introduces a new ache to the stretch. “I have tried, but it did not help much,” he admits, choosing to ignore both the delight on your face and the reserved judgment on Andrea’s. “It felt weird to have some stranger try to put me to sleep.”

“Ah, so you need your own personal ASMRtist, just for you?” you ask, eyebrows raising. Charles would feel shame, but he is just too tired. He watches you turn to Andrea and shake your head. “These drivers, man.”

Charles just sighs. Andrea makes his way to the treadmill, and Charles sighs again, this time with feeling.

—

He doesn’t think much of it, as he goes through the workout. Andrea works him hard enough that he doesn’t think much of anything at all. That is, until he’s doing crunches and your face suddenly appears above him, grinning down. “I could do it, if you wanted to try ASMR again. I could make you some, seeing as I’m not a stranger.”

At this point, Charles would try just about anything. Exhausted, and sweaty, and struggling to finish his set, he grunts, “Sure. If it is not a problem.”

“No problem at all,” you say, throwing him an exaggerated wink.

He’s lost too much sleep over the past few weeks to spend time parsing out whatever that means.

—

A week later, and Charles has honestly forgotten about the entire thing until you text him out of the blue on a Monday afternoon.

what kind of things do you like?

for your asmr :)

He stares down at his phone and tries to think of a reasonable way to respond to that. He has watched ASMR before, yes. It’s true that if it exists on the first five pages of google, he has already tried it. But all of the videos he watched were too creepy, or too loud, or again, too impersonal. He didn’t really discover anything that worked, except maybe for the lack of traffic in the background.

I like for it to be quiet, he sends, eventually. He’s not sure what else to offer. As he watches you type, he hopes that you won't put too much effort into this whole thing. Charles is not very hopeful that it will help in the first place.

well, yes!

i mean do you like talking? or water sounds or something?

I’m not sure, he types. And then, just to ease your expectations, adds, Honestly it will probably not work either way

have you no faith in me?

He doesn’t know how to reply to that, so he turns his phone off instead of overthinking.

—

It’s Wednesday night by the time you text him again.

for you, the message reads. There's a video attached, of course. He has to wait for it to download to his phone before he can see the cover image: you, sitting at a hotel room desk, smiling softly. Your hand is blurry in the frame, like you're pulling it back after pressing record.

He feels something tight in his stomach, a jump of anticipation. If his problem was the impersonality of the few videos he’s tried on YouTube, this would definitely fix that. The frame looks like something he might see if he were to do a video call with you. Something he might see if you were really talking to him.

Pressing play seems dangerous. He thinks it will probably not work, but there's the nagging thought in the back of his mind of what if it does? What if, after all the home remedies and melatonin and sleepless nights, this is what finally works? Your voice, your face, on a video just for him. How is he meant to deal with the repercussions of that?

It's a war within himself, whether to press play or not. The fact is that he needs to get sleep before free practice in the morning. But he cannot honestly say that watching your video would help any more than staring up at the hotel ceiling, counting the cracks and divots. Picturing sheep jumping over a fence, like his maman always said.

It is almost like his phone is singing to him, though. In a voice that maybe sounds like a siren’s or maybe sounds like yours.

He cannot help it. He presses play.

“Hi, Charles,” your voice whispers in the quiet of his hotel room.

Instantly, he panics and shuts his phone off. Much too dangerous, he thinks. The sheep will work just fine.

—

He wakes up feeling more exhausted than he has ever felt.

It’s bad, he knows. He hardly has anything to say to the reporters who try to talk to him before he gets in the car. Free practice is a nightmare, and he nearly crashes out in the middle of a flying lap. And then, of course, he has to sit through an entirely long debrief in which all that seems to be said is how he needs to be focusing more. Concentrating on what's important.

“Maybe you just need to get more sleep,” you offer, like you know, somehow, that he was too much of a coward to watch the video you sent. That you can see how he didn't even try.

“Maybe,” he agrees.

There are sympathetic faces, and then he’s sent back to the hotel early, with firm instructions to go to bed.

—

He tries to fall asleep on his own. He drinks tea and plays whale noises and even does yoga poses, which do nothing but aggravate his muscles, already sore from his incident in free practice.

In the end, there's nothing to be done. He rolls over and grabs his phone, resolving that, if nothing else, he will try. And even if it doesn't work, then he at least will know, and he can stop thinking about you sitting at that desk, whispering his name.

He presses play before he can convince himself otherwise.

“Hi, Charles,” you say, on the video. The room around you is dimly lit, the kind of yellow light in hotel rooms that makes everything look a bit hazy. You’re wearing your Ferrari polo, but you've pulled a zip-up over it. Charles always thought you looked very nice in red. He isn't sure if he's supposed to close his eyes or not.

“I know you’re probably only watching this ‘cause you’re desperate, so I’ll try my best.”

He watches you talk until you instruct him in a quiet voice to close his eyes, and he’s thankful for the clarification. It’s an easier instruction to follow than to just relax, like the YouTube videos say. It’s easier to follow your instructions, period, he thinks. He’s used to it, from your input in training sessions. Straighten your back, widen your stance, do two more. It’s rote, listening to you. And your voice is melodic, comforting. He listens contently as you tell him to count down from ten, and to guess whether you’re snapping with your left or right hand. You start making that sound you’d made at Andrea during his last training session with you, a hushed shshshsh, and Charles finds himself yawning.

Maybe it’s a trust thing. Maybe he finds himself getting tired because he knows he can fall asleep without worrying about you randomly screaming on the video, or interrupting the quiet with an ad halfway through.

Maybe it’s just because it’s you.

He’s asleep before he can come to a conclusion.

—

“You’re looking refreshed this morning,” you chirp at him, when you cross paths in the paddock.

He feels a flush rise high on his cheeks. I wonder why, he thinks. Outwardly, he admits, “Yes, I slept well last night.” And then, after a moment, adds, quieter, “Thank you.”

Your smile is softer than the usual grin you level him with. Still, he can tell you’re proud of yourself. “And you didn’t think it would work. See, Charles, your performance coach always knows best.”

He finds himself feeling grateful for your capacity for talking, once again. When he woke up, he was nervous he wouldn’t be able to hold a conversation with you anymore, or wouldn’t be able to force himself into acting normal. Now, though, it still feels just as easy. “You’re not my performance coach,” he states.

It gets him an eye roll. “Right, I’m your personal ‘ASMRtist.’”

You whisper the word, which he isn’t quite sure is a real word to begin with, and it’s almost like he’s watching the video again.

He knew it was dangerous clicking play.

—

With sleep, his performance improves.

It’s nothing miraculous. The car is still the car; the team is still the team. But it feels less like he’s fighting, or like control is slipping through his fingers at every turn. He starts to enjoy it a bit more, even during the rough times. Everything had felt so much worse when he knew that he could spend the entire day wrestling with the car, and wouldn’t even be able to sleep it off when the race was over. Now, he breathes easier knowing that your video is waiting for him.

You send him another, during the two weeks off in April, and then one more after his podium in Miami. He rotates through the three of them based on how he’s feeling, or how long he thinks it’ll take. (Sometimes, he feels a bit spoiled for choice, and starts brainstorming ways to pay you back.) Though he likes them all, he does have a favorite. The one you sent after Miami. You start it by telling him congratulations and saying that you know he’ll be on the top step soon.

It would be one thing if you mentioned his podium finish off-handedly, just the once. But no. The entire video goes on like that, soft encouragement sprinkled throughout, like a reward for racing well.

Whenever he watches that one, your voice follows him into sleep, where he dreams of you encouraging him to do other things, completely unrelated to racing.

—

His problem then becomes wholly unrelated to sleep, and completely having to do with you.

It’s like he’s pavloved himself into wanting to hear your voice, or see your face. He tells Andrea that he would not mind if you sat in on more of his training sessions, just so he can argue with you about the difference between cartwheels and somersaults, electric stoves versus gas, flying commercial or private. He gets to the garage early to see you warm up the mechanics, a thinly veiled excuse to watch you doing squats. He doesn’t put his headphones in while he walks around hospitality, on the off chance that he’ll get to hear your voice.

He once wondered what the repercussions of watching your videos would be. Now, he knows.

—

Monaco is a dream that cannot be deterred by his growing obsession with you.

Charles has been finding it hard to keep his eyes dry ever since the last lap. His mechanics pull him into a hug, and he feels like he’s flying. Arthur is there, crying. Charles never thought he could do it. Jumping into the water feels like victory. It is victory.

There will be a big celebration, he is sure.

You’ll be proud of him, he is even surer.

—

He’s not thinking about sleeping until you find him outside of his drivers’ room, and take him by the shoulders. “I told you you’d do it,” you say, pulling him into a hug that’s tight like a vice-grip.

His voice is muffled by your hair when he says, through a throat still tight with tears, “I am glad I got a good rest last night.”

You laugh as you pull back from him. It is hard to see through the wetness in his eyes, but he thinks he can see a similar shine in your own. He’s not sure what to do with that. There are all these people who are so proud of him, and now you’re one of them. Now you’re holding his shoulders and crying with him. It’s nice. He feels cared for. He wants you there after every win.

“Well, I’m glad to be of service,” you say. “I’m not sure when you’ll be going to bed tonight, but call me if you need help sleeping, Charles. Among other things.”

You punctuate your sentence with a wink, and then you’re gone, leaving him with the memory of your grin at the front of his mind, like an image burned into a TV screen.

—

He is going out tonight. The whole of Monaco will be celebrating him. The team will be waiting to greet him with open arms and open bars. People will want to pour some more champagne on him, and get him drunk, and find a dance floor.

He is going out tonight, but right now, he’s sitting alone in his hotel room, thinking about what you had said.

Among other things, accompanied by a wink. A wink. That’s flirting, he thinks. No, he knows. You’re flirting with him. You had winked at him when you first offered this whole arrangement, too. Charles hadn’t known what it meant. Hadn’t really cared. Now he wonders if you were flirting with him then, too.

It’s not so much of a stretch. You spend a lot of time with him, even if he has orchestrated most of it. It never seems like a chore for you to sit in on his training sessions. You gladly correct his form and tell him that he can take more. You’re a very hands-on performance coach, unafraid to touch him in places Andrea wouldn’t. Whenever Charles is alone in hospitality, you’re always quick to find him, eager to gossip about the mechanics or to share contraband pastries he’s definitely not supposed to eat. You make him the videos that started all of this. You tell him hi and congratulations and I’m proud of you. You talk to him in a quiet voice that he hears in his dreams now.

You care enough to cry over his win. Embarrassingly, that thought is what has him dipping his hand below the waistband of his briefs. He thinks he should not. He has places to be, soon. But he’s still a bit high off the adrenaline, and it’s been so long, anyway. If he is quick, it cannot hurt. This is what he tells himself, as he lays back against the pillow, and pretends he’s not thinking about you.

He doesn’t think of your lips, or your legs, or the way you look in Ferrari red. Or the way you would look as he pulls the Ferrari red off of you, ‘til you’re bare in front of him.

He’s not sure what compels him to pull up the first video you made him; it feels like a force beyond his control. Maybe it’s the memory of your grin, and your wink. Maybe he’s just crazy. Maybe he’s still just as desperate as when this all first started. Probably all of the above, he thinks, pressing play with as much shame as one can feel with their hand on their dick.

“Hi, Charles. I know you’re probably only watching this ‘cause you’re desperate, so I’ll try my best.”

You have hardly finished the first sentence when he closes out of the video with a shudder. Too weird, he thinks. He doesn’t want to tarnish the video. Or to use it for something you didn’t make it for. But now he won’t be able to stop thinking of you, or stop hearing your voice. He feels hot all over as he stares at your contact on his phone. You did say that he should call, even with other things. You had winked! Is this what you meant?

He is a race winner in Monaco. He decides to risk it.

“Hi, Charles,” you say when you answer, just like the video. Louder this time of course, since you’re not trying to put him to sleep.

It takes a moment for him to trust his voice. It would probably be easier if he stopped touching himself, but alas. He manages to get it out eventually. “Hello. You said to call if I needed help.”

“Oh, sleeping?” You ask, after making a shocked sound in the back of your throat that—in a different context—could be interpreted as something else. He has to choke down a gasp, and somehow, you don’t notice. “Wow, early night.”

He swallows, braces himself. “Not sleeping,” he admits. “You said I could call with other things, too.” His voice comes out so quiet with shame that he's almost surprised you can hear it all. You’re silent on the other end for a moment that seems to stretch into eternity. His hand stills where he had been touching himself as he waits with bated breath, half-expecting you to hang up on him.

You don’t. “Charles,” you say. There’s an edge to your voice that he’s never heard before, something vaguely scandalized and entirely too much to handle. He strokes himself, again, unable to stop himself, and hears you inhale sharply. “Are you—”

“I’m sorry if this is not what you meant. I can hang up.”

“No, no it's fine,” you say. He can hear shuffling across the phone. Just like pressing play on your video was dangerous, this is, too. Because now his imagination is left to run wild, and he wonders if you're in bed like him, if you're taking off the Ferrari polo, if you're touching yourself. “I've gotta be honest, I don't really—er, I haven't exactly done this before,” you confess.

“That's okay.” There’s a shy, nervous energy about you that he can feel through the phone. It's not something he’s used to; you're always the one with something to say, cocksure and easy. Maybe now it's his turn to take the lead. Maybe this way he can finally pay you back for all your effort in making him the videos. “This is something you want, yes?”

“Charles, I offered.”

And he supposes that is true enough. “Right,” he says, steeling himself. This is something he can handle. It's not like he's used to it by any means; it feels strange that you're not here with him, stranger that you’re doing this in the first place. But he can't exactly stop now. The slide of his palm against his dick feels nice enough on its own, but the prospect of you, on the other end of the line listening is something else entirely.

“What are you wearing?” he asks.

He feels like a dick even before you laugh out a shocked, “Jesus Christ, Charles.”

Still, he knows there are only so many ways that this goes. “It is how you do it!” he defends “I say ‘what are you wearing’ and you say—well, you know what you say.”

“But you know what I’m wearing. Ferrari shirt. Jeans. My uniform.”

He does know. He has been picturing you in red this whole time. But it's not as if he had asked out of curiosity. He asked so that he could tell you, “Yes, it’s probably not comfortable. You should take it off.”

He hears the sound of your throat clicking as you swallow. “Oh,” you say, really nothing more than a huff of air. It feels just as close to victory as jumping into the water.

“Tell me when you’re done,” he instructs, to the sounds of more shuffling. He can picture it, in his head. You, pulling off your shirt, ridding yourself of the jeans. Laying back just like him, waiting patiently for instructions. It’s becoming difficult to think through the blood rush to his dick.

“Done,” you say, plainly. He wants nothing more than to be able to see you, touch you. He wonders if your hotel room is cold, if you have goosebumps he could chase away with his hands. The thought distracts him, until you huff, “Charles.”

“Ah, sorry,” he says. It really is hard to think, especially when you're saying his name like that, breathy and soft and naked in bed on the phone with him. His dick twitches and he has to pull his hand away for a moment before continuing. “If I were there, do you know how I would touch you?”

The sound you make is almost like he’s punched you in the stomach. “You’re such a tease, just tell me.”

It’s easy to imagine, as he tugs on his dick. He’s not too proud to say that he's thought of this before. Maybe not over the phone, but you, with him, together. “I would take my time to thank you properly. I would touch your thighs, and your stomach first. Just lightly. You should, too.” He can tell you’re listening based on the way your breaths come in harsher. “Does it feel nice?”

“Yeah,” you answer, sounding dazed. Charles understands, deeply. He cannot believe this is happening, that you’re doing this with him, touching yourself the way he instructs.

You seem content for a moment, but when he doesn't specify anything further, it's not long before you seem to want more. “I could do this on my own,” you whine, a pitch to your voice that he never wants to stop hearing. He files the sound away in the same corner of his mind that remembers what you sound like talking him to sleep. Distantly, he hears the sheets moving beneath you, and can't help but to imagine you writhing on the bed, aching for more.

“I can hang up and leave you to it,” he threatens, with absolutely no intentions to make good on it.

The sound of the sheets rustling stops. “You’re not being very nice. Some 'thank you’ this is.”

You are a bit of a brat, he thinks. He should've known, really. You always seem to have something to say. But he certainly won't complain about it now, not when the sound of your voice is enough to make him believe that you’re there, that it’s you touching him, faster now, than before.

“You’re right,” he agrees. “Proper thanks are in order, right? You can touch yourself where you want to.”

Your breath hitches, and he can practically see you, on your bed, your fingers working expertly at yourself. “Are you?” you ask, and it takes him a moment to recall the line of conversation.

When he does, he chokes out, “Yes, I—have been.”

“Chivalry is dead,” you sigh out.

He still tries to defend himself, even as the sound of skin slapping against skin becomes more and more pronounced in the emptiness of the room. “I’m being nice! You help me to sleep so now I will help you to come.” He hears you squawk a laugh, but it quickly turns into something more like a moan. “Ah, see? I am helping.”

“You’re not doing anything.”

He briefly debates the merits of walking through the hotel sweating and hard in his underwear to find you. But he thinks the team leads at Ferrari would prefer if he did not. He supposes that imagining will work just fine, for now. “If I were there, I would use my mouth,” he decides. “You could sit on my face, I would let you.”

“Oh,” you say. He pictures you with your head thrown back, chest heaving, and hid dick twitches in his hand. “Maybe you are a gentleman.”

Eh, this is not very gentlemanly, he doesn't think. If he were a gentleman, he would've taken you to dinner, or something. Not called you with his hand already down his pants. Still, he says, “Yes.” And then: “You should put your fingers inside.”

It might be his imagination, but he swears he can hear it, the slick slide, muffled by the sound you make, a choked mewl. “Good,” he says, and he thinks your answering groan may be equal parts frustrated and aroused.

He has to adjust himself against the pillows. Holding the phone makes it awkward; he considers dropping it and putting you on speaker, but he doesn't think he's quite ready to be able to hear your voice and your hands your noises projected in the room. It feels more intimate like this, just for him. And he would have to open his eyes to put you on speaker, have to stop picturing you fucking yourself with your fingers, at his request. It's not an image he plans on abandoning soon.

He hears your breaths become heavier and heavier over the phone, accompanied by sounds that slowly drive him insane, moans like a pornstar’s instead of a performance coach’s. If this is what you are like just from your own fingers, he cannot imagine how nice he could make you feel on his dick.

“I would fuck you,” he says, after a particularly nice stroke. He feels a little crazy with it. He won't last much longer, he knows. You called him a gentleman but he might finish first. At this point, there's nothing he can do about it.

The little hah you say into the receiver certainly doesn't help. “That would be—I can't say I haven't thought about it.”

“What did you think about?” he asks. He has to know now.

You make a tortured sound. He pictures you trying to hide your face, or squirm away from your own hands. His hips buck into his fist; he pretends it's you.

“I don't know. Everything, Charles,” you confess, through heavy breaths. “When you would take your shirt off in the gym, I’d think of you fucking me on the equipment. You made it very hard to take notes. Sometimes I'd think of you, like, fucking me in your car. The car.”

“There is not much room,” he says, instead of examining why that thought nearly sends him careening off the edge.

“Knowing that is above my pay grade.”

“I could fuck you on the hood, maybe,” he hums. The image is—god, he’s really not going to last. “My two favorite things.”

The sound that comes out of you is a mix of his name, and several assorted swears, and maybe something about Ferrari firing you. But your voice is shaky and you gasp like it’s over, like you just made yourself—

“Oh, fuck,” he groans. “Did you—”

“Yes,” you squeak, like you're embarrassed. He didn't know you had the capacity. “Oh my god, Charles.”

It’s his name on your tongue that has him finally spilling his load with a shout that he hopes is mostly muffled by the hotel walls. He’s pretty sure Fred is the next room over, something he hadn't wanted to think about with his hand in his dick and still doesn't want to think about now, cum drying in his boxers and you catching your breath on the other end of the line.

“Is that what you meant?” Charles asks eventually. “When you said I should call you?”

You sound almost sheepish when you answer. “Yeah, but to be honest I didn't think you’d pick up on it.”

“I thought it might have been just wishful thinking. The adrenaline made me do it.”

“Well, you were very good at it. I think you could make better asmr than me.”

He shudders at the thought. He cannot imagine doing what you do, whispering to his phone camera and pretending it's you. He's grateful for your lack of shame, because he's not sure he’d be able to do it were the roles reversed. “No, I'll leave that to you.” And then, because he’s still running mostly off of adrenaline: “Maybe we can talk more later? In person?”

He can hear the grin in your voice when you answer. “I’d be mad that you're hanging up on me, but I think you may be trying to invite me to your party?”

“You know you're already invited. But maybe you could come with me?”

“It’s a date,” you answer, which makes Charles three for three on victories for the day. Somehow, this one feels the most monumental. Maybe it's because of the cum still drying in his briefs. “I’ll wear something more fun to take off than my team kit.”

—

You wear something that's honestly rather difficult to take off, but he quickly discovers that you're good with your hands, and layer, he discovers that ASMR is not the only trick up your sleeve to tire him out.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #smut #ignore the fact that he has a hotel room for his home race #formula one #f1 rpf

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nsharks · 1 year ago

Text

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part ten —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 2.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: this chapter kicked my butt. thanks for the patience~

An ear-splitting gunshot bites the ground near your boot, close enough to feel the heat simmer through the worn leather. It takes everything in you not to freeze in terror. You grab Blue and run.

Adrenaline kicks into high gear once again, but with her dead weight and your lack of strength, you know you can't get far. You manage to tumble behind a stack of rusted bins just as another round fires.

Blue clings to you. "He's following us!"

Your heart sinks as your fingers reach for your bow— you left it.

"Give me your gun," you sputter quickly.

She shoves the unfamiliar weapon in your hands. A tremble consumes your body as you peek over the barrel to find your target. For a second, you see your attacker as he passes by one of the jeeps. A young man no older than yourself.

Without hesitation, you close an eye and go for his heart, but the bullet grazes the top of his shoulder with a spray of blood. Used to a bow, you aimed too high.

He barks out a swear and then lifts his rifle in retaliation. Before he can shoot, a Grey bursts through the window of the jeep, clamping down on his neck. His throat turns to gore. The gun falls from his grip as screams of pain quickly turn to muffled groans.

Relief and horror pound through your veins. That was close. Too close. You have to get Blue out of here. But how—

There is no chance to decide. Suddenly, she screams again. You whip around to meet the slash of a long knife and the flush of cold air as your coat is torn. Someone has snuck up behind you. You fumble with the gun but the attacker knocks it out of your hand, then fists your hair hard enough to make your scalp burn. It happens so fast. You can't even get a good look at him— only the wild stare of his eyes and the strength of his stature. Whoever these people are, they are certainly better fed than that man in the woods.

You thrash against him, hurling saliva at his face. Apparently, he didn't expect that because he hisses, "Fuck."

You use the distraction to grab your own knife, the only weapon on you, and blindly drive it into the taut muscle of his thigh. He howls, letting go of your hair, and you slip away just enough to dodge the next swipe of his blade.

The fight is short-lived. You've grown stronger, but not enough to fight a man. He is skilled and bulky. Your attempts to hit him are futile. His knife catches you in the forehead, sending a curtain of blood down your face, and he grabs hold of your hair once again.

"Gonna cut your throat first," he murmurs, low and gravelly. "Then your little lamb's."

He will kill you. Then her. You can't let him. You won't. Something animalistic takes hold of you. You do the only thing left you can think of— bite. Hard. The sickening taste of human flesh and hot blood fills your mouth as you rip out a chunk of his nose.

"You bitch!"

He clutches his oozing face. Blue shouts at you, her finger jutting toward something— the Grey. Done with its first meal, it draws toward the scent of fresh blood. Before your attacker can recover, you throw all your weight at him, which isn't much, but it is enough to make him lose his footing and veer into the Grey's path. It grabs hold and sinks another bite into his face.

Suddenly, two more gunshots ring out. One to the Grey's head, and the other through the man's eye. Both bodies flop dead to the ground. Before you can panic, a wild-eyed Ghost returns in long strides.

"Blue!" he bellows.

"Dad!" she yells back.

He heads straight for her, quickly dipping down to check her bandaged leg and search for any other wounds. Fear has forced her eyes to stay open, her body stiff and alert. There is a wet stain at the crotch of her jeans.

"They tried to kill us," she cries.

“I'm here, baby. I won't leave you again.”

You wipe the blood off your face and glance around, panting so hard your lungs hurt. The air reeks of carnage and gunpowder, but the firing has ceased.

"They attacked us," you speak in a raw shout. “Two of them. Did you— Are the rest gone?"

He nods. "Could be more nearby. Let's get out of here before we find out."

He slings the rifle over his shoulder and scoops up Blue without an ounce of the effort it took for you to do so.

He moves fast. Retrieving your bow, you push hard to keep up with him.

Twilight tints the sky purple. You make it past the fence and zig-zag through the medical tents when movement catches your eye again.

"Ghost, to the right!" you scream.

You knock an arrow onto the string, aiming for the distant figure. But the movement multiplies, more shadows lurking towards you with uneven gaits. Not people. Greys. The realization forms a pit in your stomach.

"They can fucking smell us," you choke out.

"Hit the faster ones!"

Arrow after arrow, you aim for the ones that move with the stamina of a more recently infected. To your right. To your left. Ghost carries Blue with one arm and shoots with his handgun. More and more crawl out like cockroaches, no doubt catching a whiff of the blood that stains all three of you.

Two built like linebackers run wildly up to Ghost from either direction. He shoots one, while the other grabs him by the shoulder. You launch an arrow at its skull, your aim more precise now that you're not shooting bullets, and it lets go of him with a squeal.

When the trees grow thicker, it becomes harder to see them. Despair pushes a cry up your throat when you slap a hand back to your quiver and feel two arrows left.

A slippery mix of mud and leaves suddenly takes you down to the ground, your knees landing on a hard tree root. You swear under your breath, fumbling to get back up, when a Grey you hadn't noticed behind you lunges on top, slamming you back down. Pain shoots through your ribs as you frantically roll around, thrusting a forearm against its throat to avoid its opened mouth and kicking your knees into its chest. Then, a fiery bullet lodges into its forehead, the Grey going limp on top of you with a splatter of brains and coagulated fluid.

"Get up, Twix!" Ghost barks.

You shove the body off and scramble to your feet, legs feeling like jelly, but you force them to keep running.

You whip a brief look behind you.

"There's too many— I'm almost out of arrows!"

"The river," Ghost throws over his shoulder. "Those fucks can't swim."

You realize his idea when the roar of water greets your ears. Ghost doesn't hesitate to sprint onto the rusty rebar, slipping his gun away to hold Blue with both arms.

You follow behind, forcing your eyes on the bank ahead as you slow down to keep balance. All you have to do is get across and the river will take care of the rest. Heartbeats pound in your skull, each step requiring an unfathomable amount of focus that you struggle to muster. You're about halfway there when you hear the splash of Greys falling in, and a brief glance below causes your footing to falter.

This time you fail to grab the beam.

Cold water envelops you like a million needles.

A mouthful of water burns down your throat, and for a moment, you can't move. Can't breathe. Everything spins around you. It's not until your feet collide with something hard - the bottom of the riverbed - that your brain registers what's happening and you kick out to propel yourself up.

You break the surface for a gulp of air before the current pulls your head back under. Your arms flail around in search of something to grab. Just when you latch onto what feels like a log, a hand seizes your ankle with a hungered screech. You slam your foot back, over and over, more water filling your mouth as you struggle to kick the Grey and hold on at the same time.

Finally, the rotten skull caves in and the current sucks it away. With your leg freed, you haul yourself up the log toward the edge of the river. You begin climbing up the cliffside, using the twisted roots as footholds, your hands digging into caked soil. You're almost to the top, but you feel numb and weak. So weak. You can't find anything else to grab. The wet sole of your boot begins to slip.

"Grab on!"

A gloved hand stretches down. Ghost is crouched above, Blue now on his back so can he lean over. You grip his hand and he pulls you up, until you collapse on the ground, wet and shivering.

You cough up water and bile.

"Bloody fucking hell.”

It's been a while since you've thought about dying. You've made it this far, instinct always taking the reins and pushing you onward. But now, as the reality of the cold, wet clothes clinging to you sets in, you consider asking Ghost to just shoot you. It would be quicker than freezing to death, and a much better fate than drowning or turning Grey. At least you know Blue will be safe now.

Before you can form the words, you hear the shuffling of fabric. A jacket, a beanie. Set on the ground beside you.

"Take off your clothes. Put these on."

The rest turns into a dream. You don't remember putting the clothes on, or standing up and moving your heavy limbs. You don't remember getting to the hunter's cabin, but the next thing you know, you are curled up on the floorboards beside a small fire, inhaling the musky smell of Ghost's oversized jacket, with the blanket you brought tucked around your bare legs. You don't feel cold anymore. Your head pounds. You can hear the steady rhythm of your heart, slow but present. Behind you somewhere, Ghost tends to Blue. You know this because you hear him whisper to her as her sobs are muffled by biting onto a shirt. Amelia, Amelia, he says to her. A name you've never heard before. He must be cleaning the wound, the pain of it causing her to thrash and kick. Then, the sounds fade, and you know she is asleep.

When your eyes finally tear away from the flames, you spot Ghost hunched over, lifting up his shirt. Dark blood and ink stain pale skin.

"You were shot?"

His eyes snap up. He regards you for a moment, and it is now you notice that most of the white of his mask has been stained with red from his kills.

"Knife," he says.

You don't know why you offer, or why he silently accepts. Somehow you end up knelt beside him, your cracked fingertips cleaning the puncture wound in his torso without a single word exchanged. It's not deep enough to need stitches. You clear the blood and dab on antiseptic. The only sign he feels any pain is the flex of corded muscles beneath your touch and the occasional sharp inhale through the mask. His skin is oddly warm, a temperature that does some to ease the tension in your muscles.

When you're done, you roll the shirt back down. He doesn't say thank you, not that you expected him to.

You break the silence with a voice that barely hovers above a whisper. "You could've let me freeze."

His brows lower. "You could've let them kill her."

"I would never do that." When he doesn't respond, you glance at her sleeping form. "She's okay?"

"Just a graze," he confirms.

"She lost quite a bit of blood. She might need a few days to rest."

Your gaze shifts back to his. You quietly add, "Did you recognize them? Were they a part of the military?"

"Maybe. Their gear was. Didn't know them, though."

"Why did they try to kill us?"

He gives you a look. Of course. He tried to kill you for the same reason once.

"They have a camp nearby," you murmur the answer, more to yourself than to him. "Something to protect."

He gives a slow nod, then moves to grab his rifle and a hoodie to slip on in place of the thick SAS jacket he lent you. As he moves to the door, you realize what he plans to do. Keep watch.

You slip the beanie off and run your fingers over the cut on your brow when he says something just before leaving.

"For someone who once asked me to kill them, you fight hard to survive, Twix."

You don't know what to say. Just hours ago, you almost asked him to kill you again.

There's a beat of silence and then, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Do you fight so hard."

A breath sticks in your throat, and you stare at the floor. You're not sure why he is asking this, or why the answer is so hard to give.

"I... I don't know."

With that, he leaves. You watch the fire turn to dark embers. The faded adrenaline has left you with a fatigue you have grown familiar with. If you weren't so tired, maybe you would still be scared, your mind filled with fresh memories of gore and death and screaming. But you fall asleep quickly, scooting beside Blue and sinking into the warmth of his jacket.

#simon riley x reader #ghost #zombie apocolypse au #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction #cod #cod mw2

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xothatnerdykid · 13 days ago

Text

read your mind

You’re a newly minted pro-hero with a quirk that lets you to read the mind of anyone you touch. So imagine your surprise when you accidentally read a certain stoic, brooding hero's mind and find out he doesn't hate you like you thought, but rather, something dangerously close to the opposite.

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead x fem!reader. NSFW but not very explicit. 5,002 words.

“Your form was sloppy,” he says in lieu of a greeting.

You used to cringe when he’d tell you things like that, become sheepish and apologetic. Now, after months of knowing him, you'd simply smile and quip, “Awww, you watching my saves on the news again?”

You hated bumping into him. He was the reason you tended to leave mission briefings early: the ever-stoic, perpetually unimpressed Pro Hero Eraserhead.

As a relatively new hero working in the same city, you were thrilled at the chance to learn from someone as experienced as him. But your excitement quickly dimmed the first time you met as you noticed his gruff demeanor and critical, scrutinizing gaze.

You knew he was tough on everyone, but there were times when it felt like his criticism was directed at you more than anyone else. And no matter how hard you tried or how much praise everyone else gave you, he always found something to correct.

So, for the sake of keeping your self-esteem intact, you’ve resorted to treating his criticism like a game, teasing him back whenever he dropped one of his classic deadpan remarks. It was either that or crumble under the weight of his seemingly endless disapproval.

But today, all you can muster is a grunt in response, head throbbing from fatigue and chronic sleep deprivation.

“That’s my line,” he says flatly. Because apparently, someone always has to be the cheeky one between the two of you.

“Can we just…” You rub your temple, wincing as the pain spikes. "Can we just not do this today?”

“Are you feeling alright?” His voice loses a bit of its usual sharpness as he steps closer, eyes narrowing in concern. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I’m fine,” you huff, waving him off. "Just tired. We can't all function on only ten shots of espresso a day."

"Seven actually. I'm not a maniac. And you don't sound fine."

You roll your eyes, feeling too drained to banter with him. "I said I'm fine. Can you spare me the lecture?"

You mean to walk past him when you feel his hand wrap around your wrist, startling you. Suddenly, there’s that familiar buzz in your mind — your quirk activating with the skin-to-skin contact. The headache momentarily takes a backseat as his thoughts flood in.

Is she really okay? She looks like she’s about to collapse.

Why does she always push herself so hard?

You look up at him, eyes wide and unblinking.

He yanks his hand away as if he’d been burned, the flood of his thoughts abruptly cut off. His dark eyes flicker with something—surprise? Guilt? He takes a step back.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his voice rougher than usual. “Didn’t mean to…”

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. How are you supposed to respond to that? All this time, you thought he was just cold, that he only ever saw your flaws. But just now, he…

He was worried about you?

“I—” you start, but your voice falters. He’s still staring at you, his expression carefully guarded again.

“I’ll see you around. Feel better." His voice is clipped, betraying none of the thoughts you just heard. The words sound so casual, so dismissive, that for a moment you wonder if you imagined it all.

You want to say something to break the tension between you, but you're suddenly nervous. Your heart races, pounding with the weight of this new knowledge. Before you can compose yourself, another hero calls his name, and he mutters a quick response before leaving.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You promised yourself you were going to avoid him like the plague.

Later that day, when you were tossing and turning in bed, still overthinking your last encounter — you promised. You even came up with (what seemed to you) a solid game plan: You were going to focus on hero work so much that you won’t even have the time to think about him, much less see him.

But the mission had gone from bad to worse in a matter of minutes.

What was supposed to be a simple recon had turned into a full-on chase through the streets when the criminal you'd been tracking for weeks unexpectedly showed up at the deal you were sent to bust. Orders be damned, you vaulted over the rooftop ledge and ran after them.

You leaped across buildings, adrenaline spurring you on. Your mind was focused, heart pounding in rhythm with your footfalls. You’d chased this villain twice before, and both times, they’d slipped through your fingers. You weren’t about to let that happen again.

The villain was fast, but so were you. With each bound, you closed the gap, watching as they darted into a narrow alleyway below. This was your chance. Your heart surged as you prepared to drop down and cut them off.

Suddenly, a figure descended from the shadows, blocking your target from your sight. Your stomach dropped.

Of course it was him.

"Stay back. This is too dangerous for you to handle alone.” His voice was firm and authoritative. Even with the goggles on, you could feel his dark eyes trained on you with that same stern expression you’d come to dread.

"Dangerous? I've been on this case longer than you have!”

You stepped forward but so did he.

“I said stay back,” he warned you. “Don’t be reckless. He’s already evaded you twice, and now he’s cornered. Desperate villains do desperate things.”

“He’s getting away! You’re ruining my chance to finally catch him!”

“And you’ll get yourself killed,” Aizawa snapped. “I’m not going to let a rookie run into a trap.”

Anger flared in your chest. You knew he didn’t respect you, hadn’t from the start. Always criticizing, always watching with that disapproving scowl. You try to push past him, but it’s no use. He’s stronger than you, and maybe even more stubborn.

“Wait here and let me handle it,” Aizawa growled, his voice low and commanding. His scarf moved like a serpent around him, a silent warning that he wouldn’t hesitate to use it if you pushed any further.

You clenched your fists but did as you were told. Much to your frustration, the villain was apprehended quickly after that. You watched from the rooftop, fuming as Aizawa cornered them with ease, his scarf tangling around the villain's limbs like it was second nature. Within minutes, the situation was over, and backup arrived to escort the criminal away.

You stayed put, your heart still racing with the adrenaline of the chase and the frustration of being sidelined once again. The cool night breeze did little to calm your heated emotions. It wasn’t fair. You’d been so close, only for him to swoop in like you were some rookie who couldn’t handle their own mission.

Now, you watch as he finishes giving his statement to the police and then make his way towards you.

You cross your arms tightly, readying yourself for whatever critique he’d throw your way this time. But when he stops in front of you, he doesn’t say anything right away. He simply takes off his goggles and looks at you.

His silence is almost worse than his usual condescending remarks. When he finally speaks, his voice is gravelly, strained. More measured than you expected.

"Are you okay?"

You blink. "I…I'm fine," you answer, maybe a bit too defensively.

Aizawa's eyes narrow, and for a moment, you think he’s about to call you out for your tone. But he just stares at you, his expression as unreadable as ever.

You shift on your feet, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. The silence stretches between you both, heavy and awkward, until he exhales and rubs the back of his neck.

"Good," he mutters, his voice softening just slightly, but there’s something behind his eyes—a flicker of something you can’t quite place. His hand lowers back to his side, and as it brushes yours for the briefest moment, something happens.

Skin contact.

Before you can stop it, his thoughts are bleeding into yours, loud and clear.

I should’ve handled that better. She probably thinks I hate her…

Dammit, I don’t want her to hate me.

Your breath catches in your throat. A rush of emotions flood your mind: frustration, concern. Genuine fear.

She doesn’t need to prove herself to me. She’s already good enough. More than good enough.

Heat floods your face, your pulse quickening. He… cares? Before you can process it fully, the connection snaps. A sudden coldness washes over you as your quirk is forcibly erased.

Aizawa’s eyes lock onto yours, his irritation visible in the sharpness of his gaze and the tight line of his mouth.

"I…I didn't mean to," you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper.

Something like uncertainty flickers in his expression, and his hair falls down in waves as he shuts off his quirk, too. His jaw tightens but his brow furrows as though he’s trying to decide what to say.

“I...know you didn’t,” he finally says, his voice low and rough.

You flinch, guilt bubbling up in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you murmur again, dropping your gaze to the ground. You didn’t want to invade his mind, but now you couldn’t unhear what you’d discovered.

Just like before, he turns to leave.

“Wait—” you blurt out, reaching for him instinctively. You don’t know what you’re going to say, but you can’t just let him leave like this. Not again.

He pauses, half-turning to glance at you over his shoulder. Your heart is pounding in your ears. The words are there, but they feel jumbled in your throat, tangled up in the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling through your mind.

“I—I didn’t know. About any of it.”

Your eyes search his face for any sign of what he’s thinking, but his expression remains impassive. You fight back the urge to touch him.

“I thought you couldn’t stand me,” you admit in a small voice.

Aizawa heaves a sigh. His hand rises to pinch the bridge of his nose, and for the first time, you notice how tired he looks; exhausted, worn down in a way that makes him seem more human, less the untouchable figure you’ve always seen him as.

“I’m not trying to be hard on you,” he says after a long pause, his voice softer now, the anger draining away. “But you don’t always think things through, and that’s dangerous. You’re talented. You don’t need to prove anything to me or anyone else.”

His words surprise you, and you look up, meeting his gaze again. There’s no scowl, no biting critique, just honesty. You swallow hard, feeling an odd mix of warmth and discomfort settle in your chest.

Before you can think better of it, your hand moves instinctively, brushing against his arm. You freeze, realizing what you’ve done, but this time, he doesn’t pull away. And though he has every opportunity to, he doesn’t erase your quirk either.

I’m too close to her. The thought is faint, hesitant. She’s already in my head… and it’s getting harder to push her away.

Your breath catches in your throat. He’s not just frustrated with you — he’s frustrated with himself.

You pull your hand back, not wanting to intrude further.

You don’t know what you expect to see on his face; surprise maybe, or even anger. But for the first time since you’ve met him, you see something warmer in his eyes — something that sends a flutter through your chest.

Aizawa takes a half-step closer and your pulse quickens at the proximity. Then, in a voice so soft it’s almost a secret, he murmurs, “Don’t make me worry like that again.”

“I won’t,” you manage to whisper, your heart caught in your throat.

He takes a step back, as if remembering himself, and his usual stern demeanor slips back into place.

“Go home. Get some rest.”

You nod, still too flustered to speak. The warmth of his touch lingers long after he's gone.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It’s well past midnight, the city quiet except for the soft hum of distant traffic and the occasional sound of wind rustling through the streets. Your patrol route brings you to the edge of a quiet park, where you catch a familiar figure standing in the shadows, keeping watch.

“You really like brooding in the dark, don’t you?" You smile at him from over your shoulder, though your usual sarcasm is gone.

“It's my favorite pastime,” he deadpans, but you don't miss the way his dark eyes hold yours a beat too long.

“Right,” you snicker. “The city’s most stoic hero. I bet you even scowl in your sleep.”

Aizawa’s lips twitch, the tiniest of smirks threatening to break through. “You can’t prove that.”

"Oh?” You smile sweetly, batting your eyelashes for good measure. “Something tells me I can.”

His gaze sharpens slightly, and for a moment, you’re sure he’s about to call you out on your teasing. But instead, he steps closer, his tall frame looming over you.

“You’re bold tonight,” he says, his tone somewhere between amused and intrigued. “Careful, I might start thinking you’re actually enjoying my company.”

You bite your lip to keep from smiling any wider. “And what if I am?”

He steps just a fraction closer, and you can feel the heat radiating off him in the cool night air. His voice is low and smooth when he says, “Then I’d have to wonder what it is you think you’re getting yourself into.”

The air between you thickens, the playful banter now laced with something a little more dangerous, a little more exciting.

“You know, I could buy you a coffee sometime,” you offer, hoping to diffuse some of the tension, keep the conversation light. “To say thanks for helping me out with that last mission.”

He pretends to mull it over but, before you can react, he reaches out and grabs the coffee cup you’re holding. He takes a deliberately long sip, watching you with an intensity that makes your skin tingle.

When he lowers the cup, he meets your gaze with a half-lidded look that sends your pulse racing.

“Consider it done.”

Your face feels impossibly warm now, and you’re sure your blush is painfully obvious, but you manage to keep your voice steady as you quip, “An indirect kiss? Maybe you’re the one who needs to be careful, or else other people will start getting the wrong idea.”

With a low laugh, he hands the cup back to you, and the subtle brush of his fingers against yours sets off another wave of his thoughts.

I wonder if she realizes how much I want her.

Your breath catches.

For a split second, you think you might’ve misheard it, but the heat in Aizawa’s gaze as he watches your reaction tells you otherwise. The cup is back in your hand, but your fingers are numb. Your focus is entirely on him, his thoughts still rattling around in your mind.

His lips twitch again. “You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden,” he teases, his voice low, almost a purr. “What’s going on up there? Something I should know about?”

You swallow hard, trying to gather your composure. He’s looking at you like he’s daring you to admit what you heard.

You take a deep breath and decide to play along. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering if you always flirt this shamelessly.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

Your heart is racing now, fingers trembling around the cup in your hand. His gaze is dark and intense. Unwavering. He's looking at you like he knows exactly the effect he’s having on you and he’s enjoying it.

Your quirk had always been a double-edged sword; sometimes it revealed things you wished you hadn’t known, and other times it brought clarity to situations that seemed hopelessly opaque.

This time, it left you with a dilemma.

“Go ahead,” he murmurs, as if sensing your thoughts. He’s close enough now that you can feel the warmth of him, his presence overwhelming but not uncomfortable. “Since you’re already in my head…why stop now?”

Your breath hitches. His invitation is dangerous, yet impossible to resist. There are a dozen reasons why you shouldn’t — you work together, it’s an invasion of privacy, you hated his guts just a few weeks ago — but the temptation is too strong, his presence too intoxicating.

Hesitantly, your fingers brush against his once more, and his thoughts flood in again, more intense and vivid this time.

She’s braver than I thought. I like that.

I shouldn’t be doing this. But damn, I can’t stop thinking about her. The way she looks at me…

“Good girl,” he cooes, his voice a low rumble that sends a flutter of excitement through you.

You feel lightheaded, dizzy with the weight of his thoughts, the tension between you at a boiling point. You swallow hard, trying to regain some semblance of control, but the way Aizawa’s eyes are fixed on you — dark, intense, hungry — it’s making it hard to think straight. He wants you to know. He wants you to feel what he’s feeling.

And you do.

You feel everything.

His desire is a palpable thing, hanging in the air between you, electric and heady. You can see it in the way his gaze lingers on your lips, the way his breath hitches ever so slightly when you lean in.

“Hardly seems fair. I don't get to know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.” His voice dips lower, enough to send another wave of heat crashing over you. “Are you going to keep me guessing?”

Your voice wavers slightly, but you manage to respond, “I’m not sure you’re ready for what’s in my head.”

He chuckles, a dark, low sound that makes your stomach flip. “You might be surprised.”

You can barely breathe as he brushes the back of his hand against your jaw, his thumb pressing lightly on the corner of your mouth. You feel his thoughts ripple through you again, even stronger this time.

I want her. God, I want her so badly…

Your knees feel weak, and it takes everything in you not to lose yourself completely in the moment, in him. The tension between you feels unbearable now, as if one wrong move could send you both over the edge. And you’re not sure how much longer either of you can hold back.

Aizawa smirks, just a hint of satisfaction flickering in his expression.

I could kiss her right now. It would be so easy.

The thought lingers between you, thick and heavy, and you can’t tell if it’s yours or his anymore. All you know is that just the idea of his lips on yours is making your entire body hum with anticipation.

Aizawa watches you carefully, as if waiting for your reaction. He knows you heard him, and he’s not backing down.

You swallow hard, the weight of his gaze pinning you in place. “Go ahead then,” your own voice sounds small and distant to your ears, but it’s enough to tip the balance.

His lips are on yours in a second.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if he’s testing the waters, but it quickly deepens as the tension that had been building between you finally breaks. His other hand slides around your waist, pulling you closer, and you feel his thoughts rushing through you again.

God, she tastes even better than I imagined.

Your knees nearly buckle, and you can barely focus on anything except the way his lips feel against yours — firm, warm, demanding yet tender. He’s kissing you like he’s been holding back for far too long.

When you finally pull back for air, your heart is pounding, your breath shaky. Aizawa’s forehead rests gently against yours, his eyes half-closed as he catches his own breath. His thumb brushes lightly over your cheek, a small, affectionate gesture that has you smiling up at him in a tizzy.

“Still think I hate you?” he murmurs, his voice low and full of heat as he slides his hands into the curve of your waist.

You laugh softly, pulling him closer by his scarf. “I think I might need a little more convincing.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The days that follow your little late night tryst at the park are deliciously unbearable.

It’s as if you don’t know how to be around him anymore. There's tension during training sessions. The gym hums with its usual energy, but you can’t focus. Not with him in the room. You’re sparring with someone, half-heartedly dodging and throwing punches, but your mind is elsewhere, replaying the feel of Aizawa’s lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed against you.

Across the room, he’s speaking to a group of trainees, the same unreadable, stoic expression in place. But there's a flicker of something else in his eyes when they briefly meet yours, a look only you recognize.

Your opponent lands a hit on your shoulder and you nearly stumble. You grit your teeth and bring yourself back to the present moment. When the sparring session ends, you grab a bottle of water and try to catch your breath.

He walks over to where you’re sitting off to the side, seemingly doing the same. His voice is low enough so only you can hear. "You're distracted."

You flush, struggling to keep your expression impassive. “And what if I am?”

“Focus, or I’ll have to give you some private training later.”

His words are a promise, dripping with intent, and your blood sings. You can’t find a response quick enough before he’s already pulling away, leaving you flushed and even more distracted.

It’s not much better during night patrol, when the city streets are dimly lit and mostly empty. Although the two of you are supposed to be overseeing different sectors, you know when you turn a corner into a dark alley that he's following silently, closely behind.

You walk deeper into the alley, pretending to scan the area, but the quiet crunch of his footsteps has your heart racing. Just as you’re about to turn back, a hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you into the shadows, away from prying eyes.

You open your mouth to say something, but he’s already on you, crashing his lips against yours.

“You’re making—it hard—for me—to concentrate,” he murmurs between kisses, each word punctuated by the soft graze of his mouth against yours. His hands press against your hips, pinning you gently yet firmly to the wall, and a wave of heat spreads through you.

Suddenly, an image flashes in your mind: him trailing his mouth downwards until he’s on his knees, hooking your leg over his shoulder and eating you out. A thought that isn’t your own.

“You’re one to talk,” you shoot back, though there’s no real bite to it. If anything, your voice is barely steady. “You’re supposed to be patrolling your own area.”

He runs his fingers along your jaw. "And let you wander into dark alleys alone?" He leans in, lips brush against your ear, nibbling. "Not a chance."

He crooks a finger under your chin and tilts your head up, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, his teeth and lips lingering just enough to make you gasp.

I want to taste you. All of you, he thinks. I want you to make a mess on my face, on my fingers, and then lick it clean.

You grab a fistful of his hair and tug. He presses you harder against the wall, and it’s dizzying, intoxicating—

Until the sharp crackle of comms cuts through the haze.

“Report. Any activity?”

You both freeze, breaths mingling, still pressed close. His eyes flick to yours, and there’s a hint of amusement dancing in them.

“Nothing to report,” he says, voice calm and collected as if he hadn’t just been kissing you senseless a moment ago.

You look up at him, dazed and wanting, heart pounding. He tilts his head at you and you realize they’re expecting a response from you, too.

“N-no activity here either,” you manage despite the tightness of your throat.

The comms fall silent once more. Aizawa is looking at you through half-lidded eyes and a self-satisfied smirk. You hate him as much as you really don't.

“We should get back to our routes before someone decides to check on us," he murmurs.

“Oh, so now you’re concerned about protocol?” You arch an eyebrow at him, though you’re sure your flushed cheeks betray any semblance of teasing bravado.

"For now." He leans down to brush the shell of your ear with his lips. "But if you keep looking at me like that, I might just break a few more rules.”

A few days later, you find yourselves seated across from each other during a mission debriefing. The room is full of other pro heroes, but it might as well be empty for all the attention you’re paying to anyone else.

Your thoughts scramble every time Aizawa's knee brushes against yours beneath the table. He, on ther hand, is the picture of composure, listening to the debrief with his usual detached focus.

This meeting’s dragging. I can think of better ways to pass the time with you.

You try to focus on the mission details, but half way through, he moves his hand atop your thigh and you shiver.

How long do you think it’d take if we just slipped out, right now?

You steal a glance at him, and there’s the barest flicker of amusement in his eyes when they meet yours.

You force yourself to look down at your notes, but your mind is elsewhere, his presence impossibly distracting. Fuck it, you think before you slide your foot up his calf.

He sputters a cough, a rare crack in his usually unshakable composure, and you feel a surge of satisfaction. Under the table, his hand tightens on your thigh, his grip firm, almost possessive, and the thrill of it has you biting the inside of your cheek.

Keep doing that and I won’t be responsible for what happens after this.

As the meeting draws to a close, everyone rises to leave, and Shota gives you a barely perceptible nod toward the hallway. You follow at a careful distance until you reach his office, entering a good few minutes after he does so as not to arouse suspicion.

He backs you gently against the door as he locks it behind you, his gaze pinning you in place. His eyes are dark and stormy, with that half-focused look you’ve come to love so much. When he speaks, his voice is soft, a murmur meant only for you. “You’re going to get us caught, you know that?”

You smile up at him sweetly then tip-toe to give him a soft, lingering kiss. "You’re the one who can’t seem to keep things professional,” you coo, your fingers tracing along the collar of his shirt, teasing.

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Is that so? Funny, I don’t remember you objecting."

“Of course not,” you confess breathlessly, head thrown back in pleasure as you tug at his hair. You can’t make out the sound of your own voice over the blood thumping in your ears. “Do you know how many times I’ve imagined us doing inappropriate things in your office?”

Your words seem to snap the last of his restraint.

A low growl escapes him, and before you know it, he’s gripping your hips and lifting you just enough to press the hardness of his length against you. You gasp. His mouth finds yours with a raw, pent-up hunger that has you clinging to his shoulders, heart racing wildly.

“And here I was, thinking I was the only one losing sleep over this,” he murmurs between kisses, tugging your bottom lip gently between his teeth.

He pulls you flush against him as his tongue explores your mouth, and you trail your hands down his chest and the ridges of his abdomen just as eagerly. You grind your hips down on his erection and he lets out a deep, guttural groan, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants, his warm, rough hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. “You’re lucky we’re alone.” His tone is half-warning, half-promise, and you can feel his heartbeat racing beneath your hands.

"I know somewhere we wouldn't have to worry about being interrupted," you tell him breathlessly. “My place. Tonight. If you’re up for it.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle, thumb brushing over your lower lip. "I'll clear my schedule.”

#gnawing at the bars of my enclosure for this man #aizawa shota #bnha shota aizawa #shota aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #bnha aizawa #aizawa sensei #eraserhead #aizawa imagine #aizawa shota imagine #aizawa shota x you #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shota x y/n #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #aizawa shouta #aizawa shouta drabble

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voiidlizrd · 7 months ago

Text

My sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

- Sunlight, Hozier

Idia Shroud x Persephone! GN Reader

───────────────

Summary: Azul, a member of the Board Game Club, begins noticing the change is his competitor/friend Idia. He plans to get to the bottom of his unusual behavior…

───────────────

Warning(s): (potential) spoilers for Chapter 6, Idia losing his mind over how much he loves Reader, GN reader, Reader is described to have pointy ears!, Floyd.,

A/N: Idia deserves his time in the spotlight, I love him sm and the trope/parallel of Persephone/Hades for them

─────•~❉✿❉~•─────

Azul doesn’t know much about Idia on a deep personal level. The two are friends, sure, but it isn’t like they share secrets while at a sleepover or have friendship bracelets. It doesn’t bother Azul much, he never had a problem with just being decent friends. While Azul doesn’t know a lot about Idia…

He does know that something is definitely wrong.

It was another club meeting for the Board Game Club. Azul and Idia were playing a game of cards with funny and cute animals on them. Usually Idia would be absolutely destroying Azul at the game— or any game for that matter— but today Idia just stared down at his cards in deep thought. And it wasn’t the usual stare of determination. It was more akin to the thousand yard stare.

It’s been over ten minutes since Azul’s move and Idia hasn’t made a single attempt to outdo his move. Plus he hadn’t blinked in a good two minutes, which creeped Azul out.

Azul clears his throat. “Idia? It’s your move.”

Idia snaps out of his daydream and looks up from his cards with a ‘huh?’, looking down again and setting down another one of his cards, not even bothering to a usual smug declaration or shame Azul for being so stupid for playing such a lame card (which he did on purpose to try and gain Idia’s attention throughout the game).

“Is something the matter?” Azul finally asked after some internal debate. He didn’t want to pry— after all they weren’t all too close— but he just couldn’t stand the unusual silence of the game.

Plus, Azul admits, he’s incredibly nosy.

“Uh…” Idia flushes and rubs the back of his neck, the blue flames of his hair turning pink and even the end of his hair flickering in the shape of hearts, which made Azul’s jaw drop.

“No… I’m okay. Just uh- thinking! Y’know, strategizing! Also your move sucked lololol.”

Well, at least he got a normal Idia despite how horrible his lie was. Azul narrowed his eyes at the Ignihyde dorm leader with a small ‘uh-huh’ and placed down his next card.

“Did something strange happen?”

That’s when Idia lost cool. He was sweating bullets, looking guilty as a sinner in church. “What makes you say that!? Nothing happens! Nothing at all.”

His phone chimes. Idia takes out his phone almost immediately, going over the screen, and smiles. Replying quickly, then pausing, looking up at Azul.

“Uh… I think I’m gonna head back early!” Before Azul could protest or even say a word, Idia grabbed his things with a quickness that Azul hadn’t even seen from him before. “See ya next meeting!”

As Azul watched Idia leave the classroom without even looking back, he quirks a brow, humming in thought.

If there was one thing about Azul, he wasn’t just going to let something like this slide.

He had to find out what’s wrong with Idia!

───────────────

Idia takes his place again at the fountain of the courtyard, the third time this week. Many people are already in their respective dorms, which means Idia is alone with no one in sight, yet still he bounces his leg and looks every which way. The sun has slowly begun to set, given by how the sky turns a yellow, orange, pink, and reddish hue with clouds littering the sky. The running water of the fountain continues to break the silence. The sound alone and the time of day with the scenery no doubt would calm the nerves, but to Idia, he could only feel nervous. His heart pounded, hands growing clammy, and his fingers picked at his painted nails and chipped the polish. He’d have to redo them later.

He checked his phone once, twice, and three more times as he continued to look around. Idia checked the time again and again, checked his notifications (which were mainly with his game notifications, much to his shocking disappointment) and others just junk mail.

The time went by from 6:00 to 6:30 in a flash. He had to go back to his dorm sooner or later before the teachers making their rounds in the halls came by and asked him to leave— for the fourth time in a span of three days this week.

Idia goes back to looking at his phone, opening it, and going to a locked album in his photos with a password that consisted of two special dates combined.

One being his anniversary.

And the other being the day he met you.

Once unlocked, almost thousands of photos and videos appeared on screen, all consisted of you and him in each picture, but mainly only you. He never really enjoyed photos of himself but he’d deal with it for you, always. Idia is convinced that half of his storage on his phone is half dedicated to you. Not to say that the flash drive in his room kept in a locked box in his desk drawer is any different. It’s full of the backups of the photos on his phone and then some.

He clicks a more recent photo of you, though, it was a year ago during the summer time— the one time your parent actually let you see Idia after a long hard month of managing your studies and practicing your magic.

Sat beneath the sun, flowers bloomed beneath you through the sand somehow, a big smile on your face as you face the camera. Idia couldn’t help but let his heart swell as he stared at you. Your hair, your outfit, your skin, your eyes; Idia had memorized it all in his mind, but he could never get enough of it. Even if he could make a perfect replica of you in a game, it wouldn’t feel or look the same. He swiped to another photo, this one being in the fall. Idia was in the photo this time, flushed and flared up as it showed you giving him a kiss on the cheek, leaving a lipstick mark on his pale skin. The next was a picture of Ortho hugging your side.

It kills him every time he sees you in the best way possible. His heart can’t stop racing and his face is an even brighter red, his hair flaring up.

“Idia!” A voice yells from across the courtyard, making Idia perk up in excitement, a smile blooming on his face as the flowers beneath your feet.

There you were. Finally with him at long last. Sure, he talks to you almost everyday through text and chats with you on call, but it’s never enough. He waits for winter and fall every year, the only times of the year where you aren’t busy helping your parent with their business and able to sneak out of school.

Idia stands up to attentions immediately, his arms open to welcome you in them as you slam yourself against him in a hug, almost making him stumble back into the pool of water in the fountain. Idia holds you close, not wanting to miss a moment of your warmth— despite wearing his signature hoodie.

You pull back and peppering kisses along his face, which makes him heat up even further. A dopey smile stretches across his face as he giggles, hands on your waist.

“I missed you!” You held his face in your hands, a loving smile on your face. Hell, he could’ve sworn he saw hearts form in your eyes. Or maybe that was his loser induced brain talking. “You’re so handsome! Have you gotten even more cuter?”

“We FaceTimed yesterday, it’s not like I changed at all.”

“Untrue, you styled your hair a little, didn’t you?” You ran your fingers through his hair, letting the warm flames tickle your skin. “It looks much longer than the last time I saw it!”

“I could get it cut if you don’t like it-“

“Oh shut up! I love it!” Another kiss on his lips, just a light peck, but even with that his hair bursts into large pink flames— almost like a bone fire that was doused in lighter fluid.

“Stoppp…” He says halfheartedly. “My heart can barely take it anymore, the meter is already broken. You’re too OP for me…”

You merely laugh at your fiancés antics.

“WHAT IN THE WORLD!?”

The way Idia jumps into the air is similar to that of a cat being scared of a cucumber. Idia’s head turns to the source of the voice, seeing Azul with the two Leech twins by his side looking shocked— unlike Azul, who looks downright horrified. Or would astonished be the word? Either way, he’s still as his eyes look from you to Idia.

“UH- UHM.”

Idia is panicking. He hasn’t told a single soul about you, not even Lilia whenever they were online and playing together! Of course he never told anyone, you were way out of his league, from a totally different school so who the hell believes “they’re from a different school” anymore!? Not only that, your family was famous for their innovations to helping and saving the planet by starting with agriculture and food! Almost every mom has the famous “guide to good health” in their kitchen!

“I- I don’t know them?”

….

“THE HELL SHROUD!?”

“Dear, I love you very much, but that wasn’t very smart…”

“Firefly Squid has a… partner?” Floyd tilts his head at you, approaching you and then poking you.

“How much is he payin’ you?”

“Excuse me.”

The stare you give Floyd speaks wonders, a pair of thorns growing up your arm as you try and smile politely at Floyd, but it’s more of a grimace.

“Please don’t ever insinuate that I’m using Idia for money.”

Floyd blinks and then grins, all teeth— sharp teeth. “Hey! You’re like a Flowerhorn fishy!”

“ARE WE JUST NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT YOU AND IDIA BEING ALL LOVEY DOVEY?! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ABOUT!?”

Idia seriously wants to die. Like, he wants to melt into a puddle or crawl into a hole where people can’t find him. He puts his face in his hands and groans.

“You must be my Idia’s friends!” “YOUR IDIA!?” “Yes!”

“Idia is my fiancé!”

A beat passes. Then two. A whole minute passes before Azul screams out a ‘WHAT!?’ He grabs Idia and shakes him by the shoulders.

“YOU HAVE A FIANCÉ!? YOU NEVER TOLD ME!? I KNOW WE ARENT CLOSE, BUT WHAT THE HELL MAN!?”

“I DONT KNOW IM SORRY!”

You watch in amusement as Idia is rag-dolled by the meroctopus. Meanwhile you were being inspected by Jade and Floyd, as you’ve come to learn their names are.

“Woaahhh so Firefly Squid has a Flowerhorn as his fiancé! That’s so cute! I wanna squeeze you.~”

“Please don’t touch me.”

“Hehehe you’re funny!”

“Now, now, Floyd,” Jade speaks, placing a hand on his shoulder to restrain his feral twin. “We shouldn’t just bombard them with questions right off the bat. We should get to know them first before anything.”

“Might we ask your name?”

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N), soon to be a Shroud! Or Idia will be a (L/N)… We’re still debating on that.” You laugh a little, looking over them to check on Idia.

Ah, he was sweating buckets while Azul was getting winded over a long lecture, or maybe him ranting. You weren’t entirely sure what he was saying anymore, it all sounded like ravings of a lunatic. Was finding out Idia is engaged that life altering?

“Huh? (L/N)?” That’s when Jade’s eyes lit up and his polite smile grew to be more excited, surprising you. He looked similar to a kid on Christmas. “I have one of your family books on mushrooms and their types as well as their benefits to health. And the special addition ‘Mushroom Advice for Aspiring Potion Makers’. Might I say there are a millions ways you can use a mushroom to make poison.”

You stare at Jade a little astonished that mushrooms were the first thing he discusses, but you can also appreciate mushrooms. They are very special and odd fungi that change every day.

Meanwhile with Idia and Azul.

“WHY IS IT SO HARD TO BELIEVE THAT I HAVE A FIANCÉ, AZUL!?”

…

“OKAY. I KNOW WHY IT’S HARD TO BELIEVE BUT DONT GIVE ME THAT LOOK, MAN!”

Azul was close to pulling out his hair. He can’t believe it. It wasn’t the fact that Idia never told him, it was the fact that this was the very, very, VERY, very last thing Azul expected to be wrong with Idia. In fact, this thought wasn’t even on his mind, it wasn’t even on his list. Why would it be? It was Idia he was talking about! The guy could barely survive being asked what time it was, let alone managing to get engaged!

“Why- No, how??”

That’s when you step in, going past Jade and Floyd to stand beside Idia. “We’ve known each other since we were kids! And I was the one that ‘proposed’. But we were sixteen then, so when we turned eighteen! So we’ve been properly engaged for a year now.”

You hugged his side, Idia smiling softly as you do, looking away at the ground as you practically show him off with pride.

“My question is, why haven’t you told anyone, Idia? Especially after that ghost kidnapping you.”

“The what now?”

Idia tenses as you look at him with a smile. He felt the warm air of the outside just grow cold, cold as the winter.

“Huh? Oh yeah.” Floyd chimes in, laughing. “I remember that! There was this ghost that kidnapped Idia-“

“STOP TALKING-“

“To marry him or something. Pretty weird right?”

The air grows heavy as you continue to stare at Idia, a smile on your face. “Really now?”

Idia audible gulps.

“Yeah! He was really adamant on them not getting married he just wouldn’t explain why… Wait he didn’t tell you?”

“Nope! Not at all.”

Idia gives a nervous smile. “Uh… I can explain?”

A best of silence, then another. The three merfolk looked to one another in the tense silence as you and Idia stared each other down. You waiting for Idia to explain meanwhile Idia was waiting for himself to finish buffering.

“You might’ve said something you shouldn’t have…” Azul clears his throat, very uncomfortable in the silence. Floyd whistles guiltily.

The three slowly back away from the couple. Azul might’ve gotten his answer, but he also might’ve just started an early divorce.

───────────────

A bird chirps overhead as you and Idia stand in front of one another, giving some clarity in the silence, but Idia inside, currently, he was dying inside. He had completely forgotten about the whole “ghost marriage” thing, he had gaslit himself into believing it was all a fever dream, especially with the fact he had to be around a shit ton of people and be put through all of that drama— which, completely drained his social battery to the negatives. Telling you would mean he was worrying you and force you into sneaking out of school— most likely midday— and get yourself in trouble. Your smile was strained, an eyebrow twitching downward into a furrow, your arms crossed. Idia shuffles in place, his hands wringing together and he picks at a hangnail.

“Stop that,” you said softly, despite your little glare. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Sorry…”

“For the picking or the very important thing that you never told me.”

“Both?”

You sigh, shaking your hand, simply holding his hands in yours. You lead him to the fountain and sit him down beside you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I dunno I was just- it was stupid, I don’t even know why it happened. And it was completely exhausting, my mind was racing and I think my life was flashing before my eyes!” Idia began rambling, already sweating. His hands were clammy. “Everything was happening all at once. I just wanted to call you and talk to you after it happened and go to sleep with you talking and-“

“Idia.”

Idia shuts his mouth immediately as you let go of his hands and put his face in your hands, thumbs rubbing the apple of his cheeks. He sighs.

“Sorry… I’m upset cause this isn’t what I wanted to do with you today. Damn Azul.”

“It’s okay Idia, we can still do what you wanted to today.”

“Yeah but I’d have to do it even quicker now because there’s only so much time before you have to go! I can’t speedrun a whole movie! Or maybe I can…”

You chuckle and let go of his face, a hand on his lap. He leans in closer to you, his head on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry I’m a total noob at this. Are you… mad at me? For that whole ghost marrying me thing.”

“Huh? Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“Cause I didn’t tell you about the other woman.”

“PFT- other woman??”

“I DUNNO!?”

“Idia. No, I’m not mad. As long as no other ghost is coming after you, then I won’t turn anybody into a mint leaf.” You pause.

“Can I turn ghosts into plants…?”

“Y/N no.”

“What? I can keep it as an ‘in case’ protocol in case some random ghost lady wants to marry you again.”

“I highly doubt that. Who’d want to marry me willingly?”

You deadpan at him. “I do.”

“Doesn’t count, I’m your last option.”

“Idia!”

“What? It’s true!”

You laugh, making Idia laugh with you, despite knowing that he’ll get an hour long session of you praising him after a self-deprecating comment like that. You thread your fingers through his hair, moving your head to the side further to kiss his forehead. He blushes and moves his face closer into the crane of your neck. He relaxes into your warmth, shutting his eyes. The sound of birds chirping overhead, a peaceful wind passing by, Idia snuggling close to your side as your head rests against his.

Sunflowers bloom at your feet, stems branching up from the ground and brushing against his ankles. They all face him. Idia thinks for a moment that he’s similar to a sunflower, especially when it comes to you.

He’ll always look for you, for his sunlight.

#twisted wonderland idia #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #fluff #x reader #twisted wonderland azul #twisted wonderland floyd #twisted wonderland jade #twst #twst fluff #twst idia

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onsunnyside · 2 years ago

Text

🍓° 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Mafia!Ari Levinson x lovesick!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, sweet soft!reader, she’s a little oblivious. size difference: 6’8!Ari, he’s a total beefy hunk. neighbours au, a little tumble, stripper!reader, brief mentions of mafia business, undeniable daddy energy.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It was a little ridiculous how in love you were… With a single glance, he could make you melt until you’re a pile strawberry ice cream, tied with a pretty ribbon, and sitting on his doorstep.

𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝗪/𝗖 | 2.45K

𝗔/𝗡 | just a little something I wrote inspired by Melting by Kali Uchis (also where the title is from). this is my first mafia fic but there isn’t much detail since this is a real itty bitty au. as always, all mistakes are my own. [all posts/asks]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Time seems to slow when he jogs by, clad in shorts and a loose tank top with sweat seeping through the grey. His tan skin is covered in a light sheen, making the dozens of tattoos appear darker. From your seat on the porch, they still look like black blobs and lines stretching from his broad shoulders to his hands.

You’ve never seen them up close, but you have a few ideas of what they might be—a whole page in your diary to be exact.

Your eyes fall to his muscled legs, firm and thick thighs strain his shorts and just the beginnings of dark ink poke from underneath the fabric. You barely notice the ice cream melting down the cone to your hands, too deep in a daze when tingles blossom from your chest to your toes. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as the wind flutters through his long brown hair, brushing along his bearded cheeks.

He turns to you and flashes a bright smile before turning the corner and disappearing down the street. That single glance makes your heart pound ten times faster, and all of your thoughts tangle into one ball of ribbons, varying in colours, prints and lace, but so evidently you.

If you could, you’d gift him that mess just so he could know how much he affected you without even trying.

"Oh no!" You quickly wipe your hands from the melting strawberry ice cream but it's useless, the pink stains your white dress and drips down to the ribbon around your ankle.

It’s almost too symbolic—the pretty pink bleeds all over your ivory clothes, ruining your life just like the fluttering trapped in your rib cage.

Honestly, it would’ve been easier to hate him, but he was so damn big that you didn’t have any space left in your heart to hate him.

To say you're in love would be an understatement. In every fantasy and daydream, he's the main focus, your co-star, your lover, your saviour draped in silk button-ups and silver rings. Oh, he's everything you've ever wanted! As if you manifested him when you were a young child and wrote about the perfect boy to sweep you off your feet and make your life a living fairytale—everything you scribbled in glittery pen has come true before your very eyes.

You don’t even mind that he and his biker friends rev their engines at three in the morning, but your roommate doesn’t agree, she’s never agreed.

The front door slams shut and you stiffen, hurriedly flipping through a random page in a magazine and desperately trying to act like you were not staring at his house next door.

"Did you do it?"

"Do what?" You ask, voice already on edge. Vibrant red hair comes into your peripherals, as well as a pair of angry green eyes.

Natasha groans, setting down her bag on the kitchen counter. "You chickened out again? I need my sleep before I lose my mind. I can’t get any if he and his dumbass friends treat this street like a fucking race track!”

“They aren’t even that loud—and I bought you earplugs.”

“I am not touching those things until those assholes learn how to be decent human beings!” She rolls up her sleeves and grabs your arm, yanking you from the barstool.

"Wait! What are you doing!"

Her heels stomp on the hardwood floor, nearly shaking the picture frames on the walls, “I messed up five drinks today, do you know how bad that looks when they’re my recipes?” She huffs, "he's out there right now mowing his lawn and you're gonna talk to him."

You grab onto the nearest thing which happened to be the couch and clutched it for dear life. “No—you do it!”

"He doesn’t listen to me!" She digs her fingers into your sides making you yelp and feebly swat her away, but you just screwed up big time. “Just try, baby, please! For me!”

That’s the last thing you hear as you stumble out the front door, tripping over the damn welcome mat and tumbling down the stairs. It’s only a few steps, but it stings when your back thumps onto the stone walkway, your poor elbows cushioning your fall.

You barely catch the engine cutting and rushed footsteps before he appears.

He stands over you with sweat brimming at his hairline, a deeply concerned expression etched onto his face, "awh shit, are you okay?"

As always, the air goes thin and you’re under that dumb lovesick spell again. The sun glows around his head like a halo, melting you to the bone, and leaving a mess on the stone in the same shades as your love—strawberry ice-cream pink.

It’s terrible that you don’t know how deluded your tender heart is.

"You're bleeding," he crouches low, gently examining your elbow, "did your roommate push you down the stairs?”

"No! No, I-I fell.” Obviously! “But I'm okay." You utter, avoiding the peeping redhead through the curtains. Your gaze lands on his long fingers wrapped around your arm. He’s warm, warmer than you thought. Heat radiates off his body and envelops you like an old friend, familiar and calm.

"Are you?" He inquires unconvinced, "here, let me clean you up." He leaves no room for protests as he helps you up and leads you to his porch.

After you sit on the couch, he disappears inside the house before emerging with a large white case. He sits next to you and opens the kit on the table.

"That's a lot of stuff." You note, staring at the packed first aid kit. There are various rolls of gauze, different ointments, and bandages, far more things than your tiny plastic box under the sink.

Judging by his shiny sports car, and his collection of perfectly tailored suits and watches, Ari lived a very different life than you and you’d do anything to know about it. Your naive heart aches for him so badly it almost hurts.

“It’s better to be safe than sorry. Can I touch you, sweetheart?”

You watch him tend to your injury with slow and careful movements, his dark brows knitted in concentration. You’ve never been this close to him, the sudden rush of blood almost makes you lightheaded, but his scent brings you back down. The woody cologne floods your nose, followed by a dash of vanilla with underlinings of musky spice.

“What happened to your other dress?” He glances up, eyes shaded under his thick lashes.

“Oh… It got dirty.”

He hums, “what a shame.” He delicately presses down the edges of the bandage. “That’s one of my favourites. It always makes my day to see you wearing it.”

You swallow down a whimper and clench your thighs, seconds away from dropping to your weak knees. Embarrassment fills your chest, tinged with guilt, “I’m sorry, sir.” The words slip out before you could think.

He cracks a small smile, shaking his head, “it’s okay, just be more careful next time, yeah? Can’t have you ruining the little purple one too, that’s my second favourite.”

Dull thumps hammer inside your head, muffling his raspy voice. You nod silently, digging your sock-clad feet into the concrete.

You take the chance to memorize his tattoos, from the intricate rose by his wrist following the thorn stems up his arm where they entwined with a heavily shaded skull. Thin script is scattered along his skin, you can’t make out the exact words but they’re in swooping cursive, clinging to his flesh like wet chiffon.

His arms tighten as he cleans up, the muscles shifting under his paper-thin t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Every unconscious flex clouds your head, tunnelling your vision until he’s all you can see. A small whine sounds from your throat and his eyes flicker to yours, blue as can be.

“I don’t see you leave very often.” You were either inside or sitting on the front porch with a treat and a magazine, or in the backyard tending to that small garden. “Do you work?”

“I… I did, then I got fired.” The wound was still a little fresh. “But it wasn’t my fault, I swear!”

Ari perks up in interest, although he knows plenty about you, this was strikingly new. Aside from your basic profile, he knew about your past as well, including where you grew up, where your parents lived, and how long you’ve been in this city.

It was only right to know about the two girls living next to his late grandmother’s house. Curtis insisted since Ari wouldn’t let him stay in the old two-storey home, but instead the house down the street.

He came here to be alone and mourn, but that was hard to do with a cute neighbour always staring at him. Yet he stopped caring after you left a small bouquet of hand-picked flowers on his doorstep and an adorable ‘welcome to the neighbourhood!’ note.

He forgot how good it felt to be sought after, rather than feared and honoured like a living legend. You gave him that sliver of normalcy with your longing loved-up looks and quick dashes inside when he pulled into the driveway. To you, sweet-spirited you, he was an ordinary guy, not someone with a history coloured in hues of red and dripping all over his shoes, smearing the black ink of his future; an eternity tied to his family’s glory that’s now his.

“This customer was being so mean and I know I should’ve stayed professional but I was havin’ such a bad day already.” Your bottom lip trembles, flashes of that terrible day flickering through your head, “first I slept through my alarm, then I missed the bus, and my make-up broke in my bag a-and everything was all ruined.”

He reaches out, rubbing your knee soothingly. Poor girl, if it was up to him, you’d never be mistreated. “Where did you work?”

“Venom Vixens.” You sniffle, hoping he isn’t the judgemental type, you’ve known too many people who would humiliate you for your chosen career. “I, uh, I wasn’t one of the girls on stage since I was still new but I liked it there. My coworkers were nice, I got free drinks, and…”

“And?”

“I felt,” you look down at your hands, they were so much smaller than his, “I felt pretty. People go there to look and flirt, and I didn’t mind being on the receiving end of it.”

Ari wouldn’t mind giving you all of that instead.

He licks his lips, imagining you in a tiny lace set, the sheer fabric clinging to your figure while you swayed around the dimly lit club. A piece of art in the sea of ogling and drooling patrons, blooming beautifully under the flattery.

“You liked the attention.”

You giggle, “Yeah, a lot. Sure, some customers were gross and would say nasty things, but others were nice, real nice—they’d tip a lot and compliment me. Most of them were just lonely, they wanted someone to talk to or someone to spoil.”

You don’t regret accepting their fawning or expensive gifts, hell, most of your jewelry was from your loyal clients. Sparkly things paired with sweet words were a one-way ticket to your good books.

“How about your boss?” Ari asks, “how did he treat you?”

Venom Vixens wasn’t only a haven for the lonely or where perverts got their fill, but of course, you wouldn’t know that. You’d have a heart attack if you knew of the shady people who walked in and out of those doors, you’ve probably served a few of them, flashed that bright smile and earned yourself a big tip—unknowingly pocketing the filthy, blood-stained money.

“Mr. Hansen was very friendly, but everything went through him. If we wanted to change a routine, we had to perform it for him first and get his approval. He said it was protocol.” Ari snorts but you don’t catch it, all too distracted with twisting the ring on his middle finger. “He was nice when you were nice to him.”

“So he must’ve always been kind to you. You’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.”

You preen under his praise and nod happily, questioning why you were so nervous around him in the first place.

Ari was a flirt—and you loved being flirted with.

“Mr. Hansen called me his favourite before he fired me. That was over two weeks ago, and Nat said I could take my time but,” you sigh, “I feel like a bother.”

He wonders if your best friend would still hate him if she knew he was the reason that her cafe was still standing. Without his ruling over the South district, there would be chaos, and that little joint would’ve been ransacked long ago.

Did he also call for extra protection because you frequented the establishment? Proudly so.

“Are you still looking for a job?” He takes your distant hum as a yes, “Do you want to work for me?”

Your head snaps up, your sparkling eyes wide in surprise.

“I’m opening a new club in a few days and I’ve got a spot left for a performer.” He didn’t, but he had no problem giving someone the boot to make room for you.

Your mouth opens and closes several times, and the thought of Ari owning a club flies straight over your head. You’ve watched him more than your favourite movie but you still didn’t know a damn thing about him, except that he smokes, liked to work out and alternated between a white mustang and a sleek black motorcycle.

Oh, and sometimes he changes in front of his bedroom window.

“You’ll be my boss?”

Say the word, and he’ll be much more than that.

He smirks, gripping your jaw and turning you from side to side, blue eyes flickering over your features, “Sure will. I have a feeling this pretty face will be the main attraction every night.”

Your heart swells when his fingers dig into your cheeks. “I-I would, but Nat won’t like that. She kind of hates you… and your friends.” He adds pressure and your lips pucker, “you’re all s-ho loud wit ya’ bikes ‘n engines.”

Ari bites his tongue, it was either the motorcycles or the blood-curdling screams of the poor soul in the basement. He made a mental note to speed up the process of that soundproof room, he couldn’t have you losing sleep over his business.

“She doesn’t have to know.” He replies, releasing your face in favour of loosely grasping your throat. Your pulse thumps under his fingers, hard and fast, speeding up as he leans closer, “c’mon, don’t you want to be a star? Get all that attention again and make me proud?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i just love sweet!readers, they're my faves 🥹 and pairing them with big hunky (secretly soft) men is heaven !! i can't get enough !!!!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! I love you all very much 😚🫶

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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roosterforme · 2 years ago

Text

The Younger Kind Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is having a hard time trying to convince himself that being with you is wrong, but he plans another date anyway. You're floating on cloud nine after Saturday night, but you're quickly brought back down to earth the next time you see him. Lucky for you, Bradley more than makes up for his indiscretion at the end of the night.

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley was completely stunned, sitting on his living room couch with his soft cock hanging out of his jeans. He heard you start your car, and he saw your tail lights shine through the window blinds as you backed out of his driveway and drove away.

After nearly a year of being touched by nobody but himself, you got him off so good, he still couldn't move ten minutes later.

"Holy shit," he whispered to his silent living room. You had just given him the best blowjob of his life. His entire life. Bradley had been with his fair share of women, gotten more head than he could keep track of. But you were the best. Hands down, the fucking best he had ever had.

Maybe it was because it had been so long since he'd been with someone, but he tended to believe it was just you. He was so attracted to you, he should have known you would absolutely blow his mind like that. He should have known you would show up Amanda and Grace and Talia and become the only one he was thinking about.

Then Bradley cradled his face in both of his hands. You had caught him ready to jerk off with your sweatshirt, moaning your name. How fucking embarrassing. And then you'd agreed to do him a favor and get him off. Your words echoed through his mind, "I can help you with that. If you want."

But you were unattainable. Off limits. The babysitter. Noah was so attached to you. When Nat found out, she was going to lose her mind. And probably not in a good way. Because Bradley was a thirty six year old man with a ridiculous crush on a woman twelve years younger than him.

He forgot to pay you before you left. Oh god, how was he supposed to pay you after you sucked his cock for him? He was starting to feel worse and worse now.

Before he could change his mind, he grabbed his phone and messaged back the first random woman who was trying to chat with him in the app. He'd set up another date. He'd set up a million more dates if he needed to. If he didn't get you out of his mind, he'd have to find a different babysitter and break Noah's heart. And probably his own as well.

------------------------

You were still giggly the next day. You couldn't stop thinking about Bradley. You'd given him a blowjob. He had been moaning your name! You wanted to do that again. Maybe he felt the same way about you that you did about him. Your heart was pounding.

After several texts from Greyson, you decided to keep ignoring him. You had a lot of schoolwork to catch up on, and it didn't help that you knew how big Bradley's dick was and how he tasted. He was bigger and better than Greyson in every way. It wasn't making your day easier envisioning Bradley's eyes practically rolling into the back of his head while you sucked him off, but you indulged in the memories anyway.

The fact that you were masturbating to the thought of him cumming in your mouth when Bradley texted you on Sunday evening should have embarrassed you. But it did not. It made you feel even hotter for him. You really hoped this was him making the next move.

Any chance you're free to come over on Wednesday when you finish your classes?

You bit your lip and squealed, forcing yourself to wait more than five seconds before you texted him back. And when you did, it was with a giddy smile.

I can head over right after class, Daddy. See you on Wednesday.

He didn't end up writing back, but you knew he was busy. So you spent the week avoiding Greyson as much as you could. And when you saw Penny when you were out taking a walk, she waved you down.

"How are things working out with Bradley and Noah?" she asked you with a smile.

Your mind returned to the velvet feel of his erection gliding over your tongue and the broken, raspy groans of his delicious orgasm.

"Oh, so far so good," you said before pressing your lips together. "Noah is the sweetest child in the world. And Bradley, well. He's actually kind of sweet too."

Penny just laughed and nodded her head. "He really is. When my bartenders found out he's dating again, they both lost their minds. I was thinking about trying to see if he was interested in going out with either of them."

Your heart suddenly felt like it was resting against your lungs, making it difficult to breathe. "Oh. Do they seem like his type?"

Penny laughed harder now. "Bradley's type is female."

Okay, that you did believe. Or rather, you believed any woman who was into guys would be into Bradley. As long as you were cool with Noah, the man was the total package.

"He only has the most wonderful things to say about you, too," Penny added with a smile. "He said that even though you're so young, he knows he can trust you with Noah. And I don't think he would say that about very many people."

You couldn't decide if that was a compliment or a slight against your age. And when you drove to his house after your final class on Wednesday, you started to feel awkward. Neither of you had mentioned the fact that the last time you were here, you'd had his dick in your mouth.

"Hi," you called out when you let yourself in, and Noah came running to greet you at the door. You scooped him up in a hug and started to carry him to the kitchen. "Where's your dad?"

Noah just kind of shrugged. "Getting dressed." When you set Noah down at the kitchen table, you immediately noticed a coffee cup sitting on the kitchen counter with Princess scrawled across it.

You picked it up and took one sip of the French vanilla latte, and then you heard Bradley's voice. "Hey. Princess." You spun around with a bright smile on your face, but his expression had you immediately biting your lip and furrowing your brow. He looked confused and irritated and maybe a little sad. None of those expressions were right for his handsome face.

"Hi," you said softly, hoping you could make him smile. "What are your plans for tonight? Going to try to give me a sore throat again?"

His gaze dropped to the floor, and then you really took in what he was wearing. A nice shirt and chinos. He was going out. He hadn't invited you over to see you at all.

"Um, actually," he muttered, but you cut him off.

"Actually, you're going on another date?"

"Yeah." He nodded and briefly met your eyes. "Someone from the app."

He only needed to use you to get his rocks off so he could go out with someone else. God, you were so fucking stupid. He didn't want you at all. He probably thought of you as practically a child. And maybe he found you attractive enough to think filthy things about you, and allow you to suck his dick, but that was it.

"Okay, have a great time," you said, setting the coffee cup down on the counter. You didn't want another sip.

"Princess," he whispered, reaching out for you. But you managed to sidestep him as you sat down next to Noah and picked up a coloring book.

"I hope she's as much fun for you as I was on Saturday night," you said, biting down hard on your lip to keep from screaming at him.

You felt his presence behind you to the point you could almost feel the warmth of his body. But he didn't say anything, he just placed your coffee cup on the table in front of you, spinning it until the writing was facing you.

"Thanks for the coffee. I hope you find what you're looking for tonight."

You heard him swallow hard, and then he kissed Noah's head, and then he was gone. And you were left to color some dinosaurs with the kid you wanted to spend all your time with. Too bad his dad was sending you so many mixed signals, you felt like crying.

----------------------

Bradley felt like an asshole the entire time he was with Gabby. She seemed really sweet, but he couldn't stop thinking about what you said to him. As if you weren't what he was looking for.

In all actuality, you really were not what he was looking for. But you seemed to be exactly what he wanted. But wanting someone and having long term compatibility were two completely different things.

"So...." Gabby said for the third time. Bradley could barely focus on her or his dinner. "Tell me more about yourself, Bradley."

He started rambling on about work or some shit. He wasn't even really sure. This conversation was painful compared to the way you and he were together. Or at least the way you and he were before he started to fuck everything up between the two of you. The drunk kissing was bad enough, but the blowjob was just the nail in the coffin of the flirting with you that had him absolutely smitten in the first place.

Now Gabby was saying something about her job, and he couldn't handle it anymore. "Gabby? Sorry, but I think I'm just too distracted for this tonight."

She glared at him across the table. "Yeah, I noticed. I don't care how handsome you are if you're going to be rude. Pull your head out of your ass next time you ask someone out."

"I'm sorry," he muttered as she stood up to leave, and not a minute later, the waiter arrived with both meals.

He looked at Bradley cautiously. "Can you pack both of those to go? Please?" Bradley asked. He was going to have to leave this guy a hefty tip, but that was fine.

He had barely been gone for an hour and a half, and that included driving to the far end of the city. When he pulled into his driveway, he grabbed both meals, and made sure he called out from the front door. "I'm back."

You popped around the corner with Noah in your arms, and Bradley's heart leapt. "You're early," you said in surprise. "We're just about to get in bed." Bradley could tell how tired Noah looked, but he could barely take his eyes off you.

"Do you want to sing with us, daddy?" Noah asked with a yawn, and Bradley was of course drawn to the two of you like his life depended on it.

"Of course, bub." A minute later, Bradley was watching you tuck his son into bed while you sang a ridiculous song about dinosaurs that sounded made up. But Noah knew all the words too, and you were both laughing.

"Night, kiddo," you whispered, brushing his hair back from his forehead. Then you slipped past Bradley without another look in his direction. When he gently reached for your hand, you yanked yourself free and kept walking.

Bradley quickly kissed Noah, and then he was following you into the kitchen where you were packing up Noah's art supplies without a word. There was an open bag of Skittles on the table next to some of your textbooks, and Bradley didn't want you packing those things up. They looked like they belonged there.

He cleared his throat. "I brought dinner back for you. If you want it."

You laughed a little sarcastically. "I'm not eating another woman's leftovers, but thanks anyway, Bradley." You put your books into your tote bag, and Bradley took a step closer to you.

"Princess," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed for a beat. He wanted you, and at times like this, he felt like you wanted him, too. "It's not leftovers. My date bailed before the food came out."

Your stomach growled when he opened the takeout containers, and you rolled your eyes. "Fine. I'm starving." He let you pick between the two meals, and you chose the one he had ordered for himself. He didn't care, he'd eat his date's food. He could barely even remember what her name was at this point, because you were plating and microwaving the entrees like you lived here.

"I'll just eat quickly, and then I'll be out of your hair," you told him, taking a bite of his filet mignon. Bradley settled down into the seat next to you. He wanted more than anything to talk with you, but he didn't know how. Not after what he let you do last time you were here. So he just took a few bites of food and watched you.

"Your date bailed early? What did you do?" you asked between bites of steak. Bradley watched your eyes flash with mischief. "Does she know what you did to get those free coffees from the barista?"

Bradley chuckled and shook his head.

"Oh my god, did you insult her after she told the waitress to hold the salad dressing?" you said, biting into your plush, glossy lip. Then your expression clouded a bit. "She didn't say something negative about Noah?"

Bradley scraped the last bite of his food onto his fork and finished eating. "No. Actually I didn't even get to mention Noah. And I have no idea if she ordered a salad. I can't even remember if I had a salad, Princess. I was so distracted all night."

"Why were you distracted?" you asked softly while Bradley took both plates to the sink.

He reached into the refrigerator and opened a beer, drinking half of it while he decided what he wanted to say to you. You popped a red Skittle followed by two yellow ones into your mouth, and the movement of your jaw took him back to Saturday night. His cock hitting the back of your throat. His hands on your jaw and your face. Those pretty lips wrapped around his balls.

"Princess," he groaned, and he watched you shove the last few Skittles into your mouth before jumping to your feet.

"Well, I'm going to head out," you said a bit breathlessly. "Oh, and thanks for dinner and for clarifying that these were not sloppy seconds."

Bradley set his beer on the counter and followed you out into his living room, your tote bag swaying along with your ass in your tiny shorts. "Fuck, Princess. Wait. Please?"

"What?" you asked, glancing back over your shoulder.

Bradley reached out and ran his fingers along your cheek inhaling the scent of wildflowers. "My date bailed, because I was awful. I wasn't paying any attention to her. I can barely even remember what she looked like."

You turned to face him. "What was her name?"

He shook his head. "I can't fucking remember. All I can remember is you. Even when I'm not with you. That's why she hightailed it out of the restaurant."

You pressed your lips together, but you didn't back away when Bradley stepped into your personal space. "You've been thinking about me?" you asked in barely a whisper.

"Nonstop, Princess. And you wanna know about sloppy seconds? Anyone else ever gives me a blowjob, and I'll be thinking about you the entire time."

Your lips parted on a soft gasp. "Oh."

He nodded, stroking his thumb across your lips. "Best I ever had. I already couldn't stop thinking about you, and that just made it a hundred times worse."

"Bradley," you whispered, pressing yourself against him. He didn't move as you eased yourself up onto your toes and kissed him. You nibbled softly on his lips and sighed, then looked up at him like you felt the same way he did.

It was so innocent, so fucking sweet. Or it would have been if Bradley wasn't wrapping both hands around your hips and licking the seam of your lips. You parted them immediately for him as your arms came up to wrap around his neck. Bradley tasted your tongue and grunted when he felt your fingers running through his hair.

He broke the kiss and let his hands slide down to palm your ass. "You taste like Skittles. I love Skittles."

You smiled up at him. "Sorry, I didn't save you any." Bradley planted his lips on the side of your neck and listened to you moan and dig your fingers in his hair.

"I don't deserve any, remember?" he asked, rubbing his mustache below your ear. "I'm a peasant. You're the princess."

You made a soft sound that went right to Bradley's cock as you guided his lips back to yours. "Last time you kissed me, you were drunk," you whispered to him before mashing your lips against his. You were pushing him, walking him back toward the couch, and Bradley couldn't help but go where you wanted him to.

He sat down a little hard against the cushions, his head tipped back to look up at you. "Yeah. I was kind of drunk. And that was a sin, because my memories are a little fuzzy. And you deserve to be remembered with crystal clarity, Princess."

"Do I?" you asked coyly, standing between his spread legs and clasping your hands in front of you.

Bradley reached out with his right hand and ran his knuckles up and down your thigh. "Listen, Princess. Your lips wrapped around my cock will fuel my fantasies for years to come, but right now I want my mouth involved as much as possible."

You were instantly climbing into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing your mouth to his again. Bradley welcomed you back into his arms like you belonged there. You peppered some kisses to his lips and mustache before you pulled away from him a little bit with a smile. You were irresistible, and he was grinning right back at you.

"Okay, go ahead," you told him, gripping his hair and tipping his head away from you. Bradley grunted as your little denim shorts rubbed against his pants creating some friction. "Try to kiss me better than you did after you were out drinking the other night. Because I thought it was pretty great, actually."

He let you tug his hair which was making him throb for you. "What do I get if I win?"

You moaned softly. "The satisfaction of a job well done?"

He shook his head. "Not good enough."

You laughed. "A pat on the back?"

"No," he said, stroking your cheek with his fingers and coaxing your lips closer to his. "I want a fifty percent share of all Skittles consumed in my house."

You gasped so theatrically, he laughed out loud. "That's scandalous. Twenty five percent, or I'm leaving," But you were inching closer and closer to him.

"Deal, Princess," he whispered against your lips, and now he found himself trying to outdo any kisses that came before you. It actually wasn't hard. You'd been his best the last time you were here. Now he wanted to be the best for you. He started off slow now, his fingers teasing along your cheeks and all over your neck. He knew his mustache was prickling along your lip, but you seemed to like it as you were grinding against him a little bit now.

Bradley made sure he was using just the right amount of pressure with his lips, always drawing you back to his kisses. The little sounds at the back of your throat were encouraging, as were your fingers which had dipped inside his shirt at the back of his neck.

He sucked gently on your bottom lip now as his hands found their way to your waist. He nibbled softly on your lip before releasing it, and he was so pleased to see he had kissed off all of your lipgloss. Now your lips just looked extra pouty, and your eyes were needy.

"How am I doing so far?" he teased, kissing along your chin and your jaw, eventually letting his lips settle on the front of your neck.

"You must really want those Skittles," you gasped, head tipped back as he worked his mouth against your soft skin. He sucked gently on you there, nearly thrusting against you as you rubbed yourself on him. "Oh!"

And then his hands were a little rougher, squeezing your hips and wrapping around the back of your neck. You leaned into him, clearly not afraid of what his body was demanding as he tasted your tongue and your teeth. He felt your hands on his chest and abs. He could feel your warmth against his cock as you rocked your body into his. He could feel your nipples, hard and rubbing his chest through too much fabric.

"Princess?" he asked, his lips brushing against yours.

"Yeah, okay," you said, gasping against his lips, kissing him between sentences. "You win. Twenty five percent of the Skittles. They are yours."

He kissed you, laughing against your lips. "That's really nice and all, baby. But I'd rather taste you right now?"

"Me?" you asked softly, putting a few inches between your mouth and his.

"I want to know if you taste sweet all over, Princess. Will you let me find out?" he asked, stroking his index finger along the zipper of your shorts. He was gauging your reaction to him as you bit your lip and tried to squeeze your thighs together.

"You want to go down on me?" you whispered, hands gasping along his abs.

He nodded. "Real fucking bad, Princess."

You licked your swollen lips and whimpered. "Okay, Daddy."

-------------------------

Bradley had been so sweet, his brown eyes like something from your dreams. His lips and his hands were all over you, turning you on and making you so wet. But now he wanted to taste you? Find out if you were sweet?

As soon as you called him Daddy again, he had the front of your shorts open, and you were lying on the couch on your back with his big body over yours.

A moan escaped your lips as soon as he eased his hand inside the front of your underwear and over your clit, and then his mouth was on yours, devouring you. You were making little noises against his lips as he stroked you just the way you liked to touch yourself. It was like he knew how crazy this would make you. And when his other hand ended up inside your shirt, pulling down your bra and stroking your nipples, you groaned his name.

"You're soaking wet," he said, rubbing his mustache along your jaw in time with his fingers as they worked their way down toward your opening. He teased you like that until you were begging him for more, your fingers tangling wildly in his hair.

"Please, please," you gasped, and then Bradley was sitting back a bit, his hard dick on display for you through his pants. He yanked your jean shorts down your legs and tossed them to the floor, followed by your lacy, white underwear.

"Oh, fuck me," he groaned as he looked at you, bare for him from the waist down, except for your socks and sneakers which he left on.

Then without hesitation, Bradley stroked his hands up the backs of your thighs, spread them wide and brought his mouth down to your pussy. He placed the softest kiss against you there, his mustache making you bite down on your lip in response to the sensation.

"Bradley," you gasped, feeling your lower back arch off the couch as he ran his tongue from your opening all the way up to your clit in one glorious swipe.

You should have been embarrassed by the way you were reacting to him. But he just looked up at you with his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently before he released you. "You're so sensitive, Princess," he grunted. And then he was running his nose through your wetness and kissing you everywhere. "And you taste so good."

This didn't feel like you expected it to; it felt so much better than that. Bradley's lips and mustache and his fingers and tongue. Everything he did had you gasping, crying out for more.

"I got you," he promised, spreading your legs wider every time you tried to squeeze them against his head. You were writhing against the couch now, simultaneously trying to pull yourself away from his mouth and also rub your clit against his nose for more.

"Oh god!" you groaned, loud enough that you should be concerned about waking up Noah. But you couldn't stop! Bradley was licking up and down your slit with sure movements and then sucking on your clit until you were practically in tears. Over and over again. Then Bradley was shoving his fingers inside you and kissing your clit before circling it with his thumb.

"You're getting loud, Princess," he whispered, guiding his body over top of yours again. You wrapped your legs around his hips when he kissed you with his wet lips and face. You were licking yourself off his lips when he asked, "You like how you taste? You're so sweet."

You could only whine in agreement as he pushed your shirt up and buried his face against your lace covered breasts. He kissed his way back down your body, and soon you were grinding against his face while he held your thighs.

"Oh, god, oh!" you gasped when he was licking and sucking again. You closed your eyes tight as your legs started to shake. And then Bradley pumped his fingers into you a little slower and sucked on your clit with a little more pressure, and you felt yourself clenching hard. You rode his fingers with your feet planted on his shoulders, and he looked up at you like he owned you.

"Daddy!" you cried out, enjoying what was quite obviously the longest and best orgasm of your life.

"Call me Daddy again," he demanded before sealing his pretty lips around your clit once more and sucking.

"Daddy!" you groaned, pulsing around his fingers. And then everything felt wet. Really wet. And Bradley's face turned to an expression of awe. And his face was wet, too. You sat up and looked down your body to where his fingers were still rammed inside your pussy. But the couch was wet. "What happened?" you asked, but his lips were on yours, and he was pushing you back down again.

"Princess," he groaned, still moving his fingers gently inside you, and now you were finally coming down fully from the peak of pleasure he had brought to your body. "Christ Almighty, baby. You're the sweetest fucking thing, aren't you?" He kept praising you, his lips all over your face. And when he finally withdrew his fingers and brought them up to his mouth, you helped him lick them clean.

And then he was gaping down at you, stroking his knuckles along your cheek. "What happened?" you asked softly. You didn't think your body would ever recover fully enough for you to speak louder than this, but you didn't care. Everything felt too good.

"You squirted for me," he replied, those big brown eyes roaming all over your face before he kissed you.

Oh. You still felt wet. You had made a mess on his couch. You could feel the warmth rising in your cheeks. "I didn't mean to," you whispered, suddenly feeling very shy.

"Was so hot," Bradley whispered next to your ear. "Princess." His lips on the shell of your ear and his hard cock pressing against your hip made you feel a little bolder. You tried to sit up, but he was huge on top of you.

"Do you want me to get you off?" you asked, reaching down toward him. But Bradley took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles.

"No. You've done plenty. You're a Princess, made to be worshipped." You settled back against the couch cushions and let him kiss along your neck until he had his fill.

-----------------------

Bradley helped you get dressed. Then he walked you to your car. Then he kissed you goodnight. And then he paid you for watching Noah which made him feel physically sick. You tried to push the money away, but he insisted. Then he went back inside into the bathroom and came hard after stroking himself three times to the thought of your pussy soaking his face.

He was a mess. A literal fucking mess now. He sat down on the bathroom floor. He had no idea what to do. But then he laughed out loud when he remembered how his night started. He had been on a date with some random faceless woman earlier, but his night had ended with his own face buried in your pussy.

This was not a good idea. None of this was a good idea. He needed to figure this the fuck out.

------------------------

Nice work, Bradley. Amazing effort. Enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine

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endo-bunny · 7 months ago

Text

His Light in the Darkness

Summary: When Joel finds love ten years into the apocalypse and has a daughter with that woman two years later, he has to deal with the death of his beloved. He had to deal with a child that he doesn’t want, the child that took his whole world. That was, until a couple months after your birth. Now you will have to go with your father, Joel, and “The Cargo,” Ellie. As you go through this traumatizing yet exciting new adventure, you will have to learn a lot of things if you wish to survive in this world.

Paring: Joel x daughter!reader

Series Warnings:Mentions of violence, using both the game lore and show lore, Tess being a mother figure to reader, reader is eight years old, attempted SA, attempted kidnapping, kidnapping, slaves, death, dialogue and actions/scenes not being exactly the same or close to original, nicknames for reader(Little Light, honey, sweetie, baby girl), anxiety attacks, anxiety alluded to but not specified, symptoms of ptsd but not specified, reader is Joel's biological daughter, mother’s looks not specified, reader is a child so she will cry a lot (please don’t complain about this) this is normal for children

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of violence, using both the game lore and show lore, Tess being a mother figure to reader, reader is eight years old, panic attack

Word Count: 3,465

******

Chapter 1 - The Light at the End of the Tunnel

Winter 2015

Cries were what filled the room. A female that looked to be in her mid thirties was laid out on a worn down mattress. In her arms was a baby, the one that was producing those beautiful sounds. Her breaths were shallow, hands bloody as her eyes met those of her lover. There beside her was Joel. He stared lovingly at the woman, your mother. She taught him how to love again, and you were also someone that was going to help teach him how to love once more in the future. The woman had already known there was a chance of not surviving through childbirth. Hell, they were living in the fucking apocalypse. They didn’t have the same materials and medical help or equipment that they had twelve years ago.

She felt weak, she wasn’t gaining any strength back. She had children before the outbreak but upon outbreak day and thereafter, they had died in front of her eyes. That was one of the many things that the two lovers confided in and shared with each other. Her other births had been similar to this birth; but her other times were much different when it came to the time after giving birth. She wasn’t gaining any strength back like she usually would, she was only losing it. She could feel her heart that had previously been pounding in her chest slowly start to slow down to an alarmingly slow speed. Her breaths that had previously been easier to have were quickly becoming harder and harder to inhale.

With just one look, Joel knew what she was about to tell him. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t lose his lover; his light in the dark. Tears flooded his eyes, racing down his face shortly after. He choked out a sob. As carefully as he could, he gingerly held her in his arms. They stayed like that for hours, even after she had taken her final breath. She had been able to breastfeed their child with the help of Joel.

As he continued to lay there, your mother still in his arms, the door was quietly opened. Tess stepped in, grief upon her face at seeing Joel with his deceased lover. She walked over, getting close enough to touch Joel’s shoulder. His eyes snapped up to meet hers. This was the most vulnerability that Joel has ever shown Tess. She saw how much pain he was in, and she couldn’t do anything to help him. He muttered something to her after he calmed down a little.

“Take the baby, I don’t want the thing that took away the love of my life.”

She was shocked to say the least. She never thought that he would ever say anything such as that. He always seemed so happy when talk of the two’s unborn child was brought up. As Tess sighed, she lightly shook her head side to side, rejecting his request; or rather demand. She couldn’t do that. He looked angry, more than angry. He was extremely pissed to say the least. He snarled at her, even more so when she started to talk about burying your mother. The rest of it all was just a blur in his mind. He blocked everything else. He didn’t want to deal with anything else, especially you.

A couple months passed by, Joel hating every moment of it. On one surprisingly warmer day, his view towards you was swiftly changed. He had put you down on the couch, not fully caring if you fell or not. It didn’t feel like it was his responsibility. He was looking over everything that he would need for his and Tess’ next run. Something in him caused him to turn his gaze towards you. There you were, smiling over at him as if he was the greatest thing in the entire universe. In a sense, he was, to you.

Once you saw that his gaze had turned towards you, you erupted into a fit of adorable little giggles. He had never heard that beautiful sound come from your tiny body. The moment he heard it, he was immediately transported to the first time he heard that same noise come from Sarah.

Right then and there, he knew how disappointed and angry Sarah and your mother would have been at him. He was beyond ashamed of how he acted and treated you. You were his daughter, he was your father, he was supposed to love and protect you. He knew then that he needed to change the person that he was, but only for you. He wasn’t going to allow himself to be any different towards anyone else, he couldn’t trust anyone else in this newer world. As for now, for the first time since your mothers death, he picked you up lovingly and smiled.

“Hi, my Little Light. Daddy’s here now.”

******

Autumn 2023

Giggles erupted from you as you played with your toys; your fathers warning to not make any noise while he wasn’t there escaping your mind. All noises stopped however once you heard the front door open, close, and then voices. All you could hear was your fathers voice before you were sprinting out to him, jumping into his arms that weren’t ready to catch you.

“Daddy!”

He huffed, trying to keep you from falling out of his arms. He looked at you with love in his eyes, but he still had his mask up due to the fact that there was a teenage girl being present.The teenager looked surprised to see this man that has been nothing but cold and rude to her, be so loving and even have a child. You finally looked at her curiosity in your eyes.

“Who’s she Daddy?”

Joel cursed under his breath, “She’s no one, just some cargo,” He had hoped that you would simply just accept that she was there for a tiny bit and then just never bring her up ever.

The teen scoffed at him, “Hi there?” Her voice seemed on edge, “I’m Ellie, the cargo.”

You giggled at her, finding the new girl funny.

“Go and stay in your room baby girl, I’m gonna stay out here, ok?”

You nodded your head, perfectly fine with going back to playing with your toys.

Thirty minutes passed, Ellie snooping through Joel's stuff the entire time. She froze though when she heard a door down the hall open. You padded down the hall, trying to be as stealthy as possible, failing however seeing as you are just eight years old and not fully aware of your surroundings. Once you reached the living room, you jumped. Looking around you saw Ellie looking at you. She also jumped, not expecting your reaction. Seeing her jump causes you to giggle, and while she is weary of you, she does find it a little cute.

“What are you doing? Didn’t the old man tell you to stay back there?”

She honestly didn’t fully care what you were doing but she was still at least a little curious.

You stared at her while your child brain worked to try and think of something, “Nothing?”

Before she could say anything else, you ran over to her. You came up to about her waist, a little lower. You’ve heard Joel and Tess talk about how you’re small for your age. They summed it up to being that you weren’t getting the right nutrients and needed to eat a little more vegetables and meat.

“Why did Daddy say that you’re cargo?”

“‘Cause he’s taking me somewhere,” She sounded grumpy and slightly irritated.

“Who are you?” Ellie was quick to ask you a question of her own.

Telling her your name, you looked down at what she was holding

In her hands were dog tags. You looked back up towards her with a perplexed gaze set in your eyes. She looked down at her hands, having completely forgotten that she was holding them.

“Oh, those are mine.”

“Are you a Firefly?”

Your question caught her really off guard. She had no idea that someone who seems as young as you would know anything about the Firefly’s.

“Uh, no, but someone that I loved was.”

You know by the tone in her voice and the look in her eyes that it was time to shut up. You walked over to your father and sat down on the ground. She watched you before returning to whatever she had been doing. You zoned her out as you found some of the crayons that you had left on the coffee table. Joel had found that he could melt down some of the broken crayons and make new ones.

You made multiple drawings, knowing that all of them would end up on something in the apartment. You looked up once you zoned back into reality. It was dark out and Joel was still asleep. Giggling quietly to yourself, you climbed onto the couch and hopped onto his chest. He jumped awake. Both from you and the nightmare that he had.

“Did you know that you talk in your sleep?”

Ellie was looking at something in your hands. Your dad picked you up and sat you down on the couch. As he sat up, he started to say but you found the fraying threads of the couch much more interesting. Although it became much less intriguing once you heard a certain someone’s voice. Tess walked in through the door, saying something to Joel and Ellie. You looked up at her, quickly getting up to go to her.

“Mama!” You somewhat calmly walked over to her, unlike how you did earlier to Joel.

She greeted you and then looked at Joel.

“Can I talk to you in the other room?”

He looked hesitant towards you before nodding, going to his room. Ellie looked at you curiously, as well as you. Once the door closed, you both turned your gazes to each other.

“So, was that your mom?”

“Not really, I just call her Mama. Daddy told me that my real mama was in a better place and that I would never be able to see her again, but that she loved me. What about you?”

“Yeah, same I guess.”

You smile brightly at the older girl. Right once you opened your mouth, beginning to say something, Tess and Joel walked back in. Joel is quick to pick you up and get you away from Ellie. As you got comfy in his large arms, resting your head against his warm chest, your eyes dropped shut.

The next time that you open your eyes, you’re strapped to your fathers chest. As you start to wake up, you realize that you're not in your home anymore. Were you outside? There weren’t any normal buildings around. Your question was soon answered when you heard guards talking. You were immediately thrown into a frenzy when someone started yelling at your group.

The next thing you know, your father is taking you out of the holder and setting you down directly next to him. Tears were streaming down your face as you frantically grasp onto his pants leg. Everyone’s kneeling and the guard is saying something. Everything happens so fast, your dad is suddenly beating the guard, Tess is grabbing the tester, and Ellie moves in front of you.

You're still crying as all the commotion settles down. You look up at Ellie, who is now sitting next to you with a panicked look on her now dirtier face. She was also looking up. As you reach out for her, wanting to be held to help calm you down, Tess is quick to step in.

“Get away from her.”

You look alarmed, confused why you couldn’t be near her. As you try to understand what's going on, Joel quickly scoops you up, getting away from Ellie just as fast. Tess has something in her hand that you can’t see very well. Tears are still falling from your now red and puffy eyes as your dad curses in frustration.

“Why are you so mad at her, Daddy?” Your small hands grasped onto his shirt, tugging slightly.

Everyone stopped at the sound of your small voice, realization that you were with them sinking into Joel and Tess’ minds. The reality of this situation was making itself loud and clear. Your question goes unanswered as the talking continues on. You were scared, you didn’t know what was going on and everything was terrifying. You just wanted to be at home, safe and sound, being held tightly under a blanket in your fathers arms.

Your breathing starts to quicken as it feels like you're losing control over your own body. Fresh tears sprout from your eyes and your heart is pounding in your ears. Were you dying? You didn’t want to die like this, not now. It felt like you couldn’t breathe. You weakly clutch at your chest as your throat closes up, small whimpers leaving the confines of your overworked lungs. Your tiny body was trembling, beginning to feel very hot in your own skin. Sweat collected on your forehead. Joel noticed very quickly what was happening.

“Hey, baby girl, breathe. You're okay. Look at me baby,” His hand guided your face to look towards him.

He talked you through it, although a lot of it sounded like you were underwater. Once you finally were back, panic attack taken care of to the best of their abilities, you noticed that it seemed like the problem from earlier was completely taken care of. You couldn’t tell when it was taken care of but it was.

Joel seemed to be in a bitterer mood than he was earlier. You stayed quiet, opting to just look around at everything since you had nothing else to do except sit there attached to your fathers chest. As you continued to walk, going somewhere but you didn’t know where, you finally arrived at a new area. It seemed to be a very rocky place. You couldn’t tell if it was a building or not, but it looked similar to one.

You father was the first to go in, holding you tight against his chest despite the fact that you were already tightly strapped to his chest. He looked around a little, making sure that the coast was clear, before telling Tess and Ellie to come in. They soon follow in after him, Tess’ immediate move is to look at you then around the place. As the four of you make your way through the building, the air seems to get tenser, as if something bad was about to happen. That feeling was proven right when Joel and you split up from Tess and Ellie. Your head was covered by the strap, Joel having done that the moment he sensed danger. You could barely move around, all you could do was listen to what was going on around you. You heard growling and your dad grunting every so often. At one point, you get jostled around a little more than normal, a muffled cry coming from your mouth. Joel is quick to put his hand on your back before taking his hand away. You hear a struggle going on before your father and Tess’ voices once again.

As your father uncovers your head, you can finally see once more. There's bodies of the infected all around, and your father is breathing heavily. You don’t get to look around much more before Joel is quickly walking again, trying to get this whole thing done and over with as fast as possible. You’re confused as to what was happening, and it seemed that Ellie seemed to be as well. The two adults however ignored your confused and concerned faces as the supposedly short journey continued on.

******

The trip was much more boring than you had expected. You were finally arriving at the building where Ellie was supposed to be dropped off at, but it seemed to be a little quiet. Joel went into protect mode almost immediately once he realized that something wasn’t right.

As he cautiously looked around, he found that everyone that should've been there was dead. He covered your eyes so that you wouldn’t have to see all of it, trying to keep you safe from the horrors of this world as much as he could. As everyone is looking around, Tess starts talking about where to go next.

“What the hell do you mean? The jobs finished, it’s time to go home,” Joel's ruff voice cuts Tess off mid sentence.

“I mean that I can’t go home,” Tess’ usually strong voice wavers as her eyes land on you.

Ellie gasps, understanding what the older woman meant. Tess pulled the neck of her shirt down to reveal a horrible looking bite. Joel didn’t know how to react, he didn’t want to believe that Tess was bitten. You didn’t understand what was going on, so you tried tugging on your fathers shirt in order to get his attention. He didn’t even look at you, just put his hand on your back.

“You have to get her to Tommy,” Tess goes over to Ellie and grips her arm, showing Joel the bite mark that Ellie had shown them earlier, “She has to be telling the truth. Look at this, this is only a few hours old and it’s already horrible,” She pulls down her own shirt collar once again while talking to further prove her point. Before Joel could respond, groaning and screeching could be heard outside. Tess rushed over to one of the boarded up windows, looking out of it to see outside.

“Get out of here, there's a hoard of those fuckers coming here,” Tess began rustling through her bag, looking for specific items.

She pulled a small object out of a little, purple bag that seemed to still be in good condition. Joel’s breath hitched the moment he realized what the bag was. Tess walked over to you, the small object and bag in her hands.

“Sweetheart, I may not be your real mother but I love you like you're my blood daughter. I’m going to have to go away for a very long time and I want you to have these,” She put the small object in your hand, “Look after your father for me, you’re His Light in the Darkness.”

As you looked at it, you saw that it was a locket. You opened it with confusion, having a little difficulty. Inside the locket were two pictures. One was a picture of your mother, father and Tess all together. Your mother was holding the camera, her arm outstretched as she smiled brightly at the camera. Joel was hugging her, a wide smile outstretched on his face as he looked at her, ignoring the camera. Tess had her hand on her gun, seeming to be on alert, but she still had a warm smile on as she stared at the camera. The second picture was one of your father and mother. Joel had his arm around your mother as she had both of hers on his chest, seeming to be laughing at something. They were in a room that looked similar to the room that your father slept in now, but some of the furniture wasn’t as it was now.

“Daddy look! It’s Mommy!” Your excited voice came out a little too loud as the sounds of groaning and clicking came closer.

Everyone else's eyes went wide upon hearing what was waiting for them outside. Tess quickly began pouring gasoline all over everything in the room, trying to make sure that everything was covered.

“Joel go! Get them out of here, take the girl to Tommy. I’ll lure them in here, then take the building with me,” Her eyes were filled to the brim with tears as she looked at the little girl that she helped raise, knowing that she'd be leaving her.

“Mama? What's happening?”

She couldn't bring herself to tell you. She walked over and kissed the top of your head before handing Joel her backpack. She gave him a silent look before Joel grabbed Ellie to leave. You were crying now, not understanding what was happening and not wanting to leave Tess. Noises could be heard behind you as Joel quickly got out of the building despite Ellies struggles to get out of his grip.

All of a sudden, a loud boom came from behind the three of you. The building exploded. You continued to cry, the commotion overwhelming you. Joel did his best to consol you with what little energy that he had left. As you started to get brought back down to earth, your eyes became increasingly heavier by the second. Joel covered your head as you laid it on his chest, sleep beginning to take you after the exhausting day.

******

Tag list:

@fakegingerrights

@silnebula

I really hope that you liked this! It took a lot of energy for me to actually make this because I've been really procrastinating. I'm currently also working on my other Tech x Reader series but I have no idea when that will be. I'm also working on chapter two for this one. I might also do some romantic one shots for Joel because I love him so much.

@macchiato-dreaming22

#joel miller x daughter!reader #tlou joel #the last of us #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x platonic!reader #tess fluff #tlou tess #tlou tess angst #ellie fluff #ellie tlou #His light in the darkness

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formulapierre · 10 months ago

Text

If You Love Her | Pierre Gasly

Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Reader

Prompt : Based off of the song 'If you love her' by Forest Blakk. You finally decide to give Pierre your everything and you get his everything in return, except the universe seems to have other plans.

Warnings: Life changing injuries; Any other language apart from English was done by google translate, apologies for anything incorrect x

Word Count: 5261

Song: If you love her - Forest Blakk

Take it If she gives you her heart, don't you break it

“I'm ready to let you in,” You say, you had been guarding your heart for months now; scared, no, terrified of being betrayed again by someone who told you they loved you.

“Then let me in cherie,” He says with a smile as he gently cups your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“I love you…” You say. He had said it a few weeks ago, assuring you there was no pressure for you to say it back. You had met through a mutual friend, that being your ex-boyfriend, who at one point in time had been Pierre’s best friend. Though after seeing everything He had done to you and seeing how damaged you were; both of you decided never to speak of him again.

“I love you too,” He says softly, bringing you in for a gentle kiss. “So much,” He adds, causing you to blush. You were then, and still are now, surprised that someone like him could love someone like you.

Let your arms be a place she feels safe in She's the best thing that you'll ever have

“You need to leave,” Pierre said calmly to the guy who had been pounding on the door to your apartment for the last ten minutes, adamant on talking to you.

“Mate, just let me talk to her,” He said, voice holding strong.

“She doesn’t want you here, and neither do I,” Pierre replies, looking over at your tear-stained face as you sit on the couch. “Cherie, go into our bedroom, you don’t need to hear any of this,” He says and you quickly follow his advice.

“Just go home, neither of us are opening the door for you. Y/N Is gone, she can’t hear you,” He tells your ex-boyfriend who was still adamant on seeing you.

“Ma-,” Your Ex goes to say before Pierre cuts him off.

“I’m not your ‘mate’ anymore. And I’m fed up now, I just want to go and make sure Y/N’s ok, so I’ll put this plainly for you. If you don’t leave in the next 30 seconds, I will call the police,” He said bluntly. There’s one last bang on the door before it all goes quiet. Pierre pulls up the security feed from the camera outside the door and sees your Ex begrudgingly walking back towards the elevators. He sighs in relief as the camera loses sight of him. Pierre quickly makes his way into your bedroom and finds you curled up underneath a mound of blankets.

“Hi cherie, it’s just me,” He says getting onto the bed next to you. You almost immediately turn over and cuddle into his chest. “What do you need?” He asks, wanting more than anything to take this feeling away

“I just need you to hold me,” You say as you cling to the shirt he was wearing, not wanting him to leave you.

“I can do that” He says with a smile as he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you.

She always has trouble falling asleep And she likes to cuddle while under the sheets

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Pierre had been gone for what felt like ages, in reality it had only been a few weeks and you had facetimed each other most nights. Falling asleep next to each other was something you had both become very accustomed to. You knew his flight arrived in the small hours of the morning into Malpensa Airport and he made you promise that you wouldn’t wait up for him. You had settled into bed slightly later than you normally would, opting for one of your favourite movies and eventually falling asleep.

You didn’t hear the front door to the apartment as he came in. Drop his suitcases and carry on by the door before heading straight for your bedroom. He kicked his shoes off and got undressed before slipping into bed next to you. You had fallen asleep facing his side of the bed, wanting to see him when he got back and luckily you did. As the bed dipped and he moved closer to you, you slowly woke up; arms instantly reaching out for him as he made himself comfortable.

“Missed you whilst you were away” You say as He wraps his arms around you.

“I missed you too Cherie,” He says, kissing the top of your head.

“Glad you’re finally home,” You add sleepily as you cuddle into him, resting your head on his chest as he pulls the sheets over you both.

“-and I’m not going anywhere,” He says as you fall back to sleep, just as quickly as you woke up.

She loves pop songs and dancing, and bad trash TV

It had been a fairly productive day on your part, you had mailed a letter to your Grandma, sent a package to your Aunt with birthday presents for your niece and nephew and gone grocery shopping. You were slightly surprised when you found the apartment unlocked; cursing at yourself as you had evidently forgotten to lock it. You turned the handle and pushed the door open with your foot as you had grocery bags in your hands.

“I can help,” Pierre says coming out of the kitchen and taking some of the bags from your hands,

“What are you doing here?” You ask with a pleasantly surprised smile on your face. He must have been back a while as the living room was now tidy and He was in the process of doing the kitchen. Music was playing in the background, though it wasn’t his music, it was yours…

“I took the day off,” He says as you put the bags down on the kitchen counter; He takes you into his arms and you both start to sway to the music. “I thought we could start the new season of that reality tv show you watch,” He adds, spinning you round. “Oh, and I picked up that album you’ve been listening to on vinyl,” He says as you both dance around the kitchen.

There's still a few other things She loves love notes and babies and likes giving gifts Has a hard time accepting a good compliment

‘Good Morning, mon cherie, i woke up early this morning so have decided to get a quick gym session in before we leave; i won’t be too long and then i'll bring you breakfast in bed. Maman isn’t expecting us until 11 so we’ve got a couple hours before we need to catch our flight. I can’t wait for you to see what I got you.

I love you more than you’ll ever know , P x

Pierre certainly delivered on his promise as the next time you saw him He had breakfast in hand, both of your bags packed next to the closet door as He got back into bed. You spent an hour in bed together before you had to get up and get ready to go. You had been looking forward to Christmas with Pierre’s family for months, slightly disappointed that you weren’t going to see your family until the 27th.

She loves hеr whole family and all of her friends So if you'rе the one she lets in

The jet touched down at the airport in Paris, a rental car waiting for us on the tarmac as we grabbed our bags. The drive from here to Rouen was pretty good and didn’t take too long so before You knew it you were pulling into the driveway. You could already see everyones cars parked up and there looked to be a few more than usual but you just chalked it up to Pierre having a large family and maybe there were a few more cousins joining you this year.

Pascale had spotted you as you drove down the driveway so was already on the doorstep waiting for you. She wrapped her arms around you both, telling you how much she had missed you. Even though she had seen you a few weeks ago at the Abu Dhabi GP she acted like she hadn’t seen you in years.

You were quickly ushered inside and out of the cold, as you were hanging your coat up you thought you saw someone you recognised, you thought it was your Mum…you laughed to yourself knowing there was no way it could have been her…must have been Pierre’s other cousins that parked their cars outside. Everyone was sitting around the fireplace watching a movie whilst Pascale and Pierre’s sister in law cooked christmas dinner.

“Uncle P!” His niece shouted when she saw him. Scrambling to get up and run into his arms, the other children quickly followed, they didn’t forget about you either. Pierre’s youngest niece is almost being more excited to see you. Then you thought you saw her again…and your Dad sat next to each other on the far couch, smiling back at you.

“Mum? Dad?” You ask and your Mum quickly comes over to you. “What are you guys doing here?” You ask looking between them.

“Pierre called, said you were annoyed you wouldn’t be seeing us today and that you wished you could have a huge family christmas so He invited us. I hope that’s alright?” She asks and you quickly nod.

“That's more than alright,” You reply, pulling her in for another hug. Growing up with no siblings or cousins, Christmas was always very quiet so you loved the years you were at Pierre’s with his entire family.

Take it If she gives you her heart, don't you break it Let your arms be a place she feels safe in She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her

PierreGasly

Liked by AlpineF1 and 891,183 others...

PierreGasly Christmas dumpp

yourdad Thanks for having us!

yourinstagram You are literally the loml 😍

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“You’re incredible you know that,” You say as you drive back towards the airport. It had been a busy few days with His family and you were glad you were finally heading home. You had made some amazing memories and it would be a Christmas you’d never forget.

“I’m glad you liked it Cherie,” Pierre said, squeezing your thigh lightly as he rested his hand there.

“No-one's ever done anything as thoughtful as that before…it really means a lot to me,” You say honestly.

“They should have done, you deserve the world Y/N,” He replies and you lace your fingers into his.

On days when It feels like the whole world might cave in Stand side by side and you'll make it She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her like that

yourinstagram

📍 Bahrain International Circuit, Bahrain

Liked by PascaleGasly and 501,183 others...

yourinstagram Tell a friend, to tell a friend...WE'RE BACKKKK!!!!!!!!

Unknown1 Pierre and Y/N are my roman empire

Unknown2 We've been waiting far too long for this...

WaGsF1 The 'IT' couple are backk!

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“-fuck!” Pierre shouts as he pulls his helmet off, he crosses the garage not sparing you a glance. He had collided with Alonso on the first corner, suffering too much damage so they had to retire the car. Honestly, a rookie mistake. But any little thing always caused Pierre to spiral. You gave him a few moments to calm down before you left your seat and headed towards his driver's room. As you walked in his race suit was strewn over the couch, fireproofs on the floor and boxers by the bathroom door. The sound of the shower was the giveaway.

You picked up his clothes, putting them into the laundry bag in the corner. He came out a few moments later, towel wrapped around his waist.

“I don’t know why I bother anymore,” He says to you as he uses another towel to dry his hair. “I’m not fucking good enough, this is my 7th season, I should not be making stupid mistakes like that,” He adds, collapsing onto the couch next to you.

“You are good enough Pierre, they wouldn’t have signed you if they didn’t think so,” You remind him.

“There were so many other people that should have gotten the seat…Doohan, Pourchaire, Martins? They’d all be doing a better fucking job than I am,” He says and you lean back against the couch, your fingers moving to thread themselves between Pierre’s damp hair.

“It’s only the first race of the season…you’re not completely comfortable with the car yet. It’s fine Pierre, it happens. But you are good enough and you do deserve to be here,” You assure him.

Kiss her with passion as much as you can

You were sitting in the back of his garage, headset on as you listened to the engineer chatter, you had always been interested in that kind of thing so any opportunity you get to listen in, you always take. Pierre was also in on the conversation, standing with the group of engineers. They were wrapping up the conversation when He came over to you, pulling the headset down and letting it hang around your neck. His finger moved under your shin and he pulled you into a slow and loving kiss.

“What was that for?” You ask breathlessly a few moments after he pulled away.

“-because you’re beautiful” He replies and you blush. He presses a final kiss to your forehead before he starts to put in his ear plugs and pull his balaclava on. A wide smile on his face as he walks away from you.

And when she doesn't notice how pretty she is Tell her over and over so she never forgets

The summer break could not have come soon enough, despite Pierre’s rocky start to the season He had managed to claw his way back, now sitting comfortably in 3rd in the drivers championship. To say it was his best season yet would be an understatement. But. All of that meant the pressure was on, and you were both starting to feel it. It was a unanimous decision that you needed a vacation and Bali was always a good idea. The flights had been booked only a few hours after the decision had been made, and ever since then you had been counting down the days.

“Are you sure this looks ok?” You ask Pierre as you get ready for a day at the beach. “You don’t think it's showing off a little bit too much?” You add as you look at yourself in the mirror. The dark green bikini you had chosen left very little to the imagination.

“Cherie you look stunning, you look beautiful in everything you wear” He assured you, coming up behind you and resting his head on your shoulder. “It’s Bali cherie, I guarantee there will be people wearing much less than you, right?” He asks, snaking his arms around your waist. “I think you look hot, and that’s all that matters,” He says as he starts to kiss your neck.

Take it If she gives you her heart, don't you break it Let your arms be a place she feels safe in

yourinstagram

📍 Bali, Indonesia

Liked by Charles_leclerc and 418,386 others...

yourinstagram When in doubt, go to Bali

Unknown4 That bikini is certainly brave...

Unknown5 God I wish i was them...

Unknown6 That is much more of y/n then anyone needs to see

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“I told you I shouldn’t have worn it…have you seen the comments? Pierre, look at them,” You say to him as you hold your phone up

“They’re just jealous cherie, you looked stunning…besides, it doesn’t matter what they think does it?” He asks, taking your phone, it's quickly turned off and placed on the coffee table.

“No…” You answer as he sits down on the couch next to you

“Exactly, come here,” He says pulling you into his arms, he knew that the comments got to you sometimes, and that all he could do was reassure you that they don’t mean anything.

On days when It feels like the whole world might cave in Stand side by side and you'll make it

yourinstagram

📍 Singapore

Liked by yourbestfriend and 496,275 others...

yourinstagram Race day in the Lion city!

PierreGasly Doing this one for you mon amour <3

-- yourinstagram Good luck darling <3

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You felt like the word was standing still, time had slowed, your breath catching in your throat.

No.

This couldn’t be happening. Pierre had lost control, the power steering had gone and his brakes had failed. There was nothing you could do except watch as his car hurtled along the track, spinning as it hit the barrier, being flown up and into the air when it hit the curb at the wrong angle; finally coming to a stop in the tire barrier.

Where was he?

The car was a smoking wreck, why wasn’t he out by now? You could hear the faint sounds of his race engineer trying to contact him but everyone in the garage knew that would be a lost cause. Then, suddenly, almost as quickly as it had all started, there were flames. Bright, hot, burning flames exploding from the rear of the car. Your hand clutched over your mouth as you had tried to look away, Pierre’s trainer spotted you and tried to lead you away into his drivers room, but you just couldn't take your eyes off of the screen.

Why wasn’t he out?

The red flags flew the moment He had hit the barrier so half the crew were supposed to be more concerned with Esteban’s car but nobody was. They were all fixed in place, unable to move as their eyes were glued to the screens. Marshalls sprinted towards the burning wreck, fire extinguishers in hand as they started to spray down the car. You saw him. Or at least you thought they did. A hand. There it was again. Waving. One of the marshalls ran forwards, spraying the area around him. You could just about make out Pierre trying desperately to pull himself out of the cockpit. Eventually the marshalls had thrown their fire extinguishers down and went in, both of them physically pulling Pierre out.

The screens cut away.

You let Ben take you out of the garage towards a quieter area where you could try and compose yourself. “Charles is outside asking for you,” One of the media personnel said after knocking on the door. You wiped the tears from your eyes and headed out. As soon as he saw you, He quickly wrapped his arms around you and you broke down again.

She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her like that

It had been three weeks of the same. Arriving at the hospital at 9am, just as visiting time started, leaving at 9pm, just as visiting time ended. And despite how much you hated it, you refused to be anywhere else. He had remained unconscious for the first couple of days, those had been the hardest. Not knowing if he was going to wake up, His crash had been measured at 132G, nobody expected him to. But he did.

“Y-,” He muttered, softly moving his head. “Y-,” He said again, this time catching your attention. You rushed to his side, taking his hand in yours.

“I’m right here Pierre, I’ve got you,” You say, tears rolling down your face as he faintly squeezed your hand. As you held his hand you called for the doctor, having been asked to if he woke up. They assessed him as you sat there, Pierre was very reactive to any movement you made; squeezing your hand as you shifted positions, begging you not to leave his side.

She'll love you If you love her like that

After three long weeks in a Singaporean hospital it was finally agreed that Pierre could be moved to a hospital in Paris, much closer to all of his family; you had spent another three weeks in there as Pierre underwent different operations on his legs. They had become trapped between different parts of carbon fibre and metal during the crash; the base of his spine also having been damaged. That was why He couldn’t get out.

The Hospital in Paris knew Pierre was itching to get out, that was evident to anyone that came to visit him. They released him pretty quickly and after six weeks in hospitals Pierre was finally free to go. Though he was nowhere near full health. He was in a wheelchair, unable to walk by himself. So one of the conditions of him being discharged was that you would find a place together in Paris, close to the hospital so He could attend all of his check-ups and rehab appointments.

By the second week Pierre was ready to give up. “Why are you still here?” He asked you one morning as you helped him get dressed. You knew he hated this, not being able to do things for himself.

“Because I love you,” You assured him as you handed him a shirt. Any ounce of independence he could have, you made sure to give him.

“There are many better men for you cherie, none of them need help getting dressed in the mornings. You don’t deserve this,” He said, and this wasn’t the first time He had shared this sentiment with you.

“But none of them are you, my love,” You reminded him. “I wouldn’t be doing this for anyone other than you,” You add as you put his feet through the legs of his trousers.

“T-thank you,” He says, voice faltering as you pull his trousers up his legs and over his ass.

“I’ve got you and I’ll always have you, I promise,” You say, pressing a kiss to his lips as you grab his wheelchair. Thankfully, that was the one thing He had gotten used to quickly, transferring himself in and out of the wheelchair, as that was probably the only thing you couldn’t have done.

She'll love you If you love her

He hated it, and you weren’t surprised. At the moment his sessions were only an hour long as He got tired and frustrated very quickly. You totally understood everything that was going on inside his mind. He had gone from being one of the fastest men alive to barely being able to take two steps without assistance.

Pierre had always said that He wanted you with him every step of the way, and when you promised that you would be, you really meant it. If that meant sitting in a chair on the far end of the room, so be it. He didn’t want you to help him, encourage him or anything. He hated showing you how weak he was. But you both knew He needed you there.

There were two long beams that he rested his arms onto as He tried to put one foot in front of the other. His physical therapist and rehab assistant had both assured Pierre that he had come on leaps and bounds since He first came through the door. Back then he was unable to stand up without help, but now he could get out of the wheelchair and lift himself up to hold the bars

She'll love you If you love her

You were sitting in the kitchen of your parisian apartment, working on your laptop as Pierre took a nap after his PT appointment. They always took everything out of him so the first thing He wanted to do was go to sleep. The apartment had been quiet for a few hours until you heard a crash from the bedroom. You instantly bolted from your seat and ran towards the sound; you found Pierre on the floor in the bathroom.

“-merde,” He swore as He tried to get back up. You went to help him but He pushed you away. “I don’t need your help,” He said through gritted teeth as he tried to stand back up.

“Just slow down and take a breath,” You said, repeating the words his physio had been telling him for months. He was always trying to do things at 100mph when he wasn’t capable. “Let me help you,” You say softly as you crouch down to him.

“I am so fucking fed up of slowing down,” He says and you nod, he had also been saying that for months.

“I know you are darling, but you’ll only hurt yourself more if you don’t,” You tell him as you offer your arm to him so he can stand back up. You knew why he had fallen, there was a slight lip on the doorframe to the bathroom that you had stubbed your toe on a few times, neither of you had noticed it when viewing the apartment and Pierre now had the tendency to drag his feet a little so it was bound to happen at some point.

She'll love you If you love her

Pierregasly

Liked by yourinstagram and 3,891,173 others...

PierreGasly The last 12 months have been tough. From being bed-bound to being able to take a few steps was a huge challenge; but we keep pushing forwards 👊

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The rest of the evening had been quiet, you cooked dinner for the both of you, Pierre silently taking his and eating in the study. That had been his one fault. He hated making mistakes; so tripping and falling like he did was a massive blow to his ego and dignity. He was already fast asleep by the time you went to bed, facing away from you so you just left him to it.

When you woke up you realised he wasn’t there, feeling his side of the bed you found a small yellow post-it note.

‘Don’t move, i want to surprise you and make up for yesterday

-P x

You did exactly what the note said and stayed in bed, picking up your phone and answering some messages you had gotten; about 15 minutes later the bedroom door opened, Pierre came in holding a plate and a mug. He carefully placed the mug down on the bedside table before passing you the plate that had fresh berries and pancakes on. “You didn’t have to,” You say, taking a bite and you instantly recognise that this was his own pancake recipe he used to make for you all the time.

“Yes I did,” He says, pinching a blueberry off of the side of the plate. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you, you were only trying to help,” He says with a regretful look on his face.

“You’re still entitled to your feelings Pierre,” You remind him and He nods.

“I know I am, but that shouldn’t be at your expense, I’m sorry,” He says and you pull him into a soft kiss.

On days when It feels like the whole world might cave in Stand side by side and you'll make it

The video starts to play, Pierre stands up from a chair across the room, walking towards the camera slowly, still slightly wobbly on his feet. “Hi Everybody, Pierre here. I know I’ve been very quiet on social media over the past eighteen months or so since the crash and that’s because I've really been focused on my recovery and the long process of learning to walk again. I wanted to tell you all what happened and that primarily, I’m ok. During the accident both my legs became trapped and I also shattered two of my lower vertebrae; that left me, for the first six months, totally paralysed from the waist down. I cannot even begin to express my gratitude to my physio team who have done everything they can to get me into the position I'm in today,” He says before there is a short montage of photos showing Pierre in hospital, then in the first few stages of physiotherapy of him learning how to stand up by himself.

“I know that my journey is far from over, I’ve still got pins in my legs from where they were crushed, and only after they have been removed should I begin the road to full mobility. Whilst I've been recovering Formula One has been incredible in assisting with finding me the correct doctors to suit my injuries and keeping the door open to future plans. Y/N’s been quietly active on social media and has told me of quite a few tweets and comments about my possible return to racing and I want to clear things up. I hold absolutely nothing against Alpine, Formula One or the FIA about my accident, as it was exactly that. An accident, there was an investigation and there was nothing anybody could have done. However this does not mean I am ready or willing to return to racing; I have no plans to return to racing in the future, I feel I need to be investing more into my personal life, thanking those who have stood by me over the past two years. Y/N and I got engaged during that time so we are in the middle of wedding preparations and we could not be happier.” He continues before it cuts to more photos of the final stages of his PT and then the video of him proposing, He was still on crutches at the time and was unable to kneel but the sentiment was still there. “-And finally I want to thank all of you guys, my fans, all of your kind comments and messages are read and they really help me to get through those tough days. I probably won’t be very active on social media going forward so for now; thank you, and goodbye,” He says with a wide smile.

She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her like that

yourinstagram and PierreGasly

Liked by LandoNorris and 620,682 others...

yourinstagram Mr and Mrs Gasly - 23/8/2026

PierreGasly Cant forget about Pedro! 🐶

-- yourinstagram Never!

a few years later...

“Pierre,” The interviewer started. “We are now 5 years on from your near-fatal accident, how are you doing?” She asks. The studio hadn’t changed since the last time he was filming here during his career in F1.

“I’m doing really well; I’m back to pretty much full mobility, a little stiff here and there but my wife says that's just because i’m getting old,” He says with a laugh, you roll your eyes from behind the camera.

“We all saw the photos that she posted a few weeks ago, updating your fans on your life at the moment. Tell me about that, you always hear the horror stories of partners leaving because they couldn’t cope. How much does it mean to you that She stayed?” She asked as you were slightly taken aback…that wasn’t one of the prepared questions.

“It means everything to me…there were times during my recovery where I would tell her to go, to leave me and that she didn’t deserve this. But she stayed, and I don’t think leaving was ever an option in her mind. I owe her everything and I will spend the rest of my life trying to show her how thankful I am.” Pierre answers honestly, not looking at the interviewer, but looking behind her at you as He spoke.

“I love you,” You mouth back, aware you weren’t allowed to talk out loud but he heard you, loud and clear.

“I mean you guys were the ‘it’ couple in the paddock before the accident…now i think the entire paddock is jealous of the love the both of you share, it really is beautiful to watch you two,” She tells you both.

“Have we got an extra chair?” He asks, looking over at the producers. One of the crew quickly moves a spare chair next to Pierre who stands up, holding out his hand to you. “Come join us…this is just as much your story as it is mine Cherie, I wouldn’t be here without you,” He reminds you as you cross the set to him. He presses a kiss to your forehead before you both take your seats.

finite

#f1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 imagine #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #charles leclerc #formula one x reader #f1 oneshot #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #pierre gasly oneshot #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fluff

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writersblog20 · 2 years ago

Text

Sunflower 🌻

Pedro Pascal x reader

Credits to the gif maker!!!

Summary: When your hot neighbor, Pedro Pascal, forgot to close his curtains while he was pleasing himself, you caught him. You feared the worst but maybe it was for the best that your parents were away for a while

Warnings: SMUT, mention of spying, The reader is still a virgin. Age-gap (reader is in the mid-twenties), P in V, no condom (don’t do it, please), jerking off, slight voyeurism, mention of panic attack, Fingering, overstimulation, a bit of dark Pedro in the beginning, reader is slightly naïve, unexperienced reader, squirting, chocking, calling Pedro daddy, oral Female receiving, blowjob, creampie, daddy issues if you squint, Pedro GUIDES the reader through it, a bit of DD/Lg vibes, Dom/sub dynamic, dirty talk, and I think that’s it

Words: 4,8K

Sunflower🌻

Pedro was your hot neighbor, who you had a crush on before the famous actor even moved across from you. It was a well preserved neighborhood and your parents were good friends with Pedro, much to your annoyance. You see, there were so many countless of nights were you would stay up, reading smut about your favorite neighbor, watch them edits and mostly, losing count on how much you’ve touched yourself thinking it was him. You watched all of his movies and series that he was in and now you were following him in the Last of us and god did your crush grew ten folded when you watched him in that show.

You were in your mid-twenties and still a virgin. Yeah, you chose to have it that way. Waiting for the right person and the moment you saw Pedro, you knew he was the one you wanted to give it to. Your room had, obviously, a window but sometimes, if you were lucky, you could see Pedro in his own house. You lost count at how many times you’ve spied on your neighbor but you really couldn’t help yourself even though that you knew it wasn’t okay.

Your parents were on vacation and had asked Pedro to keep a close eye on you and that if there was something going on, you could go to him. You were currently bored out of your mind and thinking about what to do. You listened to some music in your room, staring at the ceiling. “What would Pedro do right now?” you wondered to yourself when you turned your head to look at the window. You were thinking about it and curiosity got the better of you when you stood up. You looked out of your window and your eyes got bigger at the sight. Pedro sat in his chair, his head slowly tilted backwards while his hand softly stroke his cock.

Your breath hitched but you couldn’t look away. You were so lost in a trance at how absolutely gorgeous this man looked, how the warm light hit his face, his large hands caressing his huge cock and how his lips slightly parted. His eyes were closed and it almost looked angelic. You felt the familiar heat spread down and you slowly placed your hand in your panties, underneath your flower dress. Pedro’s eyes slowly opened, looking at the screen in front of him. You were curious to what he was watching. What porn category he would search for.

You were so caught up at your own feeling and the image in front of you, that it didn’t click in your head when Pedro’s head turned towards your window. You made eye contact with the brown eyed man and that was when it hit you. He could obviously fucking see you, knowing that you were watching him. You quickly moved away from your window, your heartbeat pounding against your chest as panic took slightly over. My god, he caught you. How the fuck are you ever going to face him again. You felt flustered, bothered and panicked. You didn’t know what to do right now than to just stand there, thinking about what to do. You had no idea how long you stood there when you peeked around the corner so you could look out of your window again. You saw that the laptop was still opened, the light illuminating to the chair that Pedro sat in, minutes ago but he wasn’t there anymore.

Panic took over your entire body. You stared in front of you until you heard your doorbell. You freezed on the spot. It felt like you had an entire black out, adrenaline shooting through your body and you moved towards your livingroom without thinking. Your body was acting on itself and you opened the door, seeing Pedro standing in front of you. His cheeks a little pink while he ran his hand through his hair. You both didn’t say anything, feeling extremely awkward. “I wanted to check up on you and see how you were doing.” He spoke up, ignoring the fact that you caught him and he caught you.

You nodded and forced out a smile as you stood to the side, letting him in. He walked past you with a soft smile and sat on one of the chairs. “Eh, do you maybe want something to drink?” you asked him, trying to act like nothing happened. Pedro smiled softly, unable to make eye contact with you. “Could I have a glass of water?” you nodded and your body acted on itself, moving you to the kitchen, Pedro watching you closely.

Your hands were shaking while you gave him a glass of water. You got one beer for yourself, hoping that it would calm your nerves. Pedro watched your shaky hands when you took a sip from the bottle. It was unbearably silent at the moment and it had almost send you in a panic attack until Pedro broke the silence with a question. “So how are you doing?” he asked you and looked into your eyes. “Good, yeah I’m doing okay. I like the peace.” You told him, shifting uncomfortably in your seat since you were still very horny.

Pedro knew about your not so secret crush on him and he would be lying if he said that he didn’t like you that way either. You were so good and so pure, it absolutely drove him insane. He too, lost count of how many times he fantasized about you when he would touch himself, imagining it was you.

The air around you thickened and Pedro nodded when you answered that question and it became silent again. Both of you knew that it had to be addressed if you wanted to get the tension out of the air. “I’m sorry.” Pedro said uncomfortably while he scratched his neck. You looked up and felt panic float through your body besides, you felt nervous as hell around him let alone right now. “I’m sorry that you saw me. I should’ve closed the curtains… I hope we’re still okay?” he asked you softly and at the last part, he looked at you. The heat started to spread across your cheeks while you fumbled with the sticker of the beer bottle.

You nodded, unable to speak at all. His hand covered yours that was playing with the sticker so he could get your entire attention. You looked at his hand, covering yours before looking at Pedro, who was staring at you. Your heart started to beat faster and faster. You carefully turned your hand and started playing with his fingers, images of earlier that night flashed through your mind as it was the same hand that he touched himself with. Pedro looked down at your hand and then back to your eyes. He was surprised to say the least when you tried to make a move.

Pedro knew it was wrong but it felt so incredibly right that he couldn’t bare to stop you even though you were just playing with his fingers. The physical contact you made started to tightened his pants again. He didn’t want to admit it but when he caught you watching, was the only thing to send him over the edge and came hard. And all you had to do for that was just look at him.

Pedro let out a sigh when he thought about that exact moment. “What were you watching?” you couldn’t help but feel bold when curiosity stroked. You had an idea where this boldness came from and that was because you wanted that man and you wanted him now. “What?” you took Pedro complete by surprise. He wasn’t used to you being this bold. He knew you as the shy, innocent girl. Not that he complained but it started to get harder to fight his feelings for you.

“What were you watching when I caught you?” you asked him again. You looked at your hand that played with Pedro’s. Your hand looked so small compared to his. Pedro slowly took his hand away from you. “I eh…. I ehm..” Pedro swallowed thickly, almost unable to breath. You felt a pang in your heart when he took his hand away from you. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise! I’m just…. Curious.” You told him, feeling shy again. Pedro looked into your eyes and he had a strict look as if you crossed the line. “Just curious?” his voice was stern.

You started to panic, feeling you ruined everything with him and let your head down. You were staring at your Dr. Martens boots. “You really want to know?” his voice turned slightly darker as he placed a finger underneath your chin, making you look up. “Do you?” you stayed silent but nodded, your eyes big at the upcoming revelation. Pedro nodded. “I mostly watch neighbor things, daughter of my best friend and stuff...” You eyes bigger at his confession while he took in every feature on your face. Pedro placed his hand carefully on your bare leg, making you jump at the sudden contact. Pedro lifted his hand quickly when you jumped before slowly putting it back on your leg, drawing circles with his thumb.

“Your turn, princess.” He told you, making you look up in confusion. “come on now. If we’re going to be honest, than be honest. I know you watch porn. What do you search sweetheart?” His hand carefully went up your leg underneath your dress. You felt yourself pulsing from the heat. “Ehm… I watch… a lot of daddy stuff….” You confessed, not wanting to tell him more. “Do you now?” you nodded “And maybe some neighbor stuff as well.” you felt your cheeks heat completely up as you nodded, looking how his hand disappeared underneath your short dress.

“I know you have a crush on me.” he told you while looking intently into your eyes. It felt like you couldn’t breath anymore as the air kept getting tighter around the two of you. His fingers squeezed your leg, making you let out a moan. You quickly covered your mouth with your hand. “You like this?” he asked you, his hands getting towards your heat. You quickly nodded “I need to hear your voice Chiquita.” You tried to swallow but your mouth was dry from nerves. “I do daddy.” Pedro smirked, his finger going over your clit. There was already a wet patch on your panties, getting a groan out from Pedro.

“You are dripping through your panties sweetheart.” You moaned when his fingers picked up the pace. You covered his hand that was underneath your dress so his hand would stay there. “Yeah? You like that?” he asked you, making you nod again while you tried to gasp for air. “Why don’t you come over here and sit on my lap sweetheart?” he told you, his hand leaving your panty and placed both of his hands on your waist, making you stand up. The moment you did, he took your body completely in without shame. He pulled you closer and made you sit on his lap sideways. He looked down your body, his hand rubbing your leg and pulled your dress a bit up.

Pedro kissed your shoulder, his beard scraping your skin. You couldn’t wait longer and started to move your hips. “Oh baby, you are a needy little girl aren’t you?” You hummed, your hand over his again and guided him to your heat. Pedro smirked “You like it when I do this?” he asked you, his fingers over your clit again, your whole body reacting to it as if it got a shock. Pedro chuckled at how much your body gave you away. Your whole body tensed, making you grip his wrist harder. His fingers going faster while his other hand grabbed your chin, making you look at him. “Look at me.” he commanded. You couldn’t help but move your hips on his lap, feeling his cock grow harder underneath you.

Pedro looked deep into your eyes and you immediately felt more intimidated. You stared at his lips, desperate to kiss him. you moved forward to kiss him but Pedro pulled back. “No. You wait like a good girl. Only good girls get what they want. Do you understand?” you nodded but Pedro shook his head. “Use your voice, young lady.” You swallowed again, his hand went from your holding your chin towards your neck. You felt a pit in your stomach. “I understand! I understand!” you quickly said, almost beggingly as you grew closer to your orgasm.

“From now on, you address me as daddy or papi. Are we clear on that sweetheart?” Pedro’s voice was cold and unbothered while you squirmed on his lap, begging to come. “Yes! I understand daddy! Please, please can I cum daddy?” You cried out. This was the first time that Pedro didn’t sound stern anymore. He wanted you so bad that started to lose control. His breath shaky while his fingers put pressure on your clit over your panties and picked up the pace. “Go ahead sweet girl. Cum for me” he told you and as on que your whole body started to shake. Pedro let go of your neck and held your body tightly against yours while your limbs were shaking. “That’s it, just like that baby girl.” He cooed in a soft, loving voice, making your orgasm even more explosive.

Your eyes met Pedro’s and his eyes held so much softness and adoration in them that it made you weak to your knees. Pedro came closer and closed the gap between the two of you in a hungry, passionate kiss. You felt his tongue slide in while his hand caressed your cheek. You got out of the kiss, making Pedro look confused at you. You stood up and got completely in his lap so you were chest to chest. His hands found your waist. Pedro looked at your body, his hand caressing your leg, slowly moving up to your upper leg, just rubbing them. He loved how soft and delicate your skin was underneath his hands. His hands underneath your dress, holding you by your waist and pulled you in the kiss again.

Hungrily you discovered each other’s mouth. Pedro started to move your hips and you quickly took over, grinding on his lap. Pedro groaned in the kiss, sending goosebumps over your body. His fingers dug into your skin and his lips moved towards your cheek to your neck. Even more electricity came over you when his lips touched your neck, turning you on to the point of crazy. You grinded more aggressively on his lap and dick for at least some friction. Pedro’s hands went to your ass, squeezing them tightly, making you moan out. Your hands went through his hair while you pulled him closer to you. Your hips moving even more violent than before. “Are you going to come again?” he asked you. “Yes daddy” you cried out and Pedro chuckled because of how desperate you sounded. And not to find it funny how desperate you were for him but because it felt like his heart was going to give out from all the love he held for you.

“That’s it, you can cum whenever you’re ready baby girl.” He quickly placed his fingers over your panties again and rubbed your clit. You cried as your whole body started to shake. “There you go baby, let it go sweetheart. Let it go.” He guided you while your rested your head against his shoulder. His dick was fully hard by now and he could just cum without touching himself at the way you came on his lap.

“Show me your room, mi amor.” You stood up but your legs almost gave out. Pedro held you tightly. You looked at his lap and your orgasm dripped though your panties on his pants, leaving a wet patch and it was the hottest thing ever. You walked towards your room. You laid down on the bed and Pedro hang above you, kissing you even more. You couldn’t get enough of his lips while you held his cheeks with your palm. Pedro grinded against you, both moaning. You got out of the kiss, Pedro awaited what you were going to do. You rested your head to the side and was in thought. Pedro was confused, his eyebrows knotted a bit together as worry washed over him.

“Hey, hey? Are you okay sweetheart?” you nodded but was apprehensive to what you were going to confess. “Pedro…. I.. I’m still a virgin.” Pedro looked shocked at you and created a bit of distance between the two of you. That was the last thing you wanted so you grabbed him by his cardigan. “No. No, I want you to have it.” Pedro’s eyes softened. “Sweetheart… You shouldn’t give it to me.” You violently shook your head, completely disagreeing with him now. “No, I’ve always wanted you to have it. I don’t want to give it to anyone else. I really don’t.” Pedro looked at you contemplating. “Are you sure?” he asked you and softly cupped your cheek, rubbing his thumb softly over your skin.

You nodded and Pedro slowly started nodding as well, giving in to your wishes. “Besides, you told me good girls get what they want. I’m a good girl daddy. I promise.” Pedro chuckled a little, giving completely in. “You’re right. You are a good girl.” Pedro kissed you softly. “So… you’ve never done anything with anyone?” he asked you and you shook your head. “You’ve never…. Sucked somebody off?” you shook your head again. “So no one has ever shown you how it is to be eaten out?” he asked you, sympathy glazed his voice while his fingers touched your pussy again. You gasped slightly and shook your head.

“Would you like to know how it feels?” he asked you with a loving smile on his face. You nodded and Pedro closed the gap again, kissing you. This time it was soft and passionately. He went over your neck with his lips towards your collarbone. His hands over your leg again before he sat up and got into position, his hands over your dress, moving it up. His hands going over your thigh, giving another shockwave over your body. Pedro smiled at the way your body reacted to his touch. His hands reached your panties and pulled them slightly down. You pushed your hips up so he could take your panties off.

Pedro slowly spread your legs and gave you another glance, wanting your permission again. Your breathing was heavy as you quickly nodded. Pedro started to kiss the insides of your thigh, slowly making his way up while remaining eye contact with you. His beard scratched your skin in the best possible way. Pedro took a long lick over your folds and you let your head fall back on the pillow. His eyes never leaving yours, taking in every feature. His arms wrapped around your legs, keeping them spread while he started to eat you out. You gasped at the sudden overwhelming pleasure. Your hand automatically grabbed his hair, tucking it a bit, earning a growl from Pedro, who started working on your clit now.

You were absolutely dripping right now. The sounds your pussy and Pedro made should be illegal but you were glad it wasn’t. Pedro teased your entrance with his finger while sucking on your clit. Pedro made eye contact with you again and slid his finger inside your pussy. You gasped and clenched on his finger, earning a couple of other growls. God you felt so good on his finger that he was afraid that he wasn’t going to last long when he would be inside of you. Pedro carefully started pumping his finger inside of you and the familiar feeling came back but as soon as Pedro curled his finger inside of you, another pleasurable feeling washed over you that you didn’t recognized.

You grabbed Pedro’s wrist again and tried to hold back whatever that feeling was. “Feels good doesn’t it princesa? Don’t hold it back sweetheart. I’m right here with you. Nothing bad ‘s going to happen. Let it go.” He comforted you through it. Pedro started to messily eat you out, sending another shockwave. “Daddy..” you moaned out, your eyebrows knitted together and eyes tightly shut in a pained expression even though it was everything but pain. Even if you wanted to hold back that feeling, you just couldn’t hold it back anymore and started to squirt while Pedro continued to eat you out. Your whole body tense as Pedro still held tightly to your legs to keep them spread. You gasped for air and saw that Pedro cleaned his face from all the juices. He grinned at you and took his cardigan and shirt off, hanging above you again. His hands softly going over your cheek. “That felt good didn’t it?” you nodded, still questioning what just happened. And as if Pedro could read your mind, he answered the question that lingered in your mind “You just squirted baby girl.” He smiled and kissed you lovingly.

“Can I ehh…” You rubbed his cock over his pants. Pedro looked down and back to you. “You can do whatever you want to baby.” this man got you all flustered with his words. Pedro sat up and so did you. You carefully undid his pants, looking at Pedro who was awaiting your next move. You reached into his pants and took his cock out. It was so big compared to your hand already and you swallowed thickly. Pedro let out a moan when you stroked his cock slightly. You placed your hands on his chest and laid him down on his back. You started to lick his shaft and Pedro let out a shaky breath. You’ve never done this before but you’ve seen some things so you tried that just out.

You tried to take him all in but that was a failed mission before you even started. You gagged on his cock while your hand jerked off what you couldn’t put in your mouth. You slobbered over his dick and Pedro shamelessly moaned out, turning you on even more. “God baby.” he moaned out. “This really the first time you’d done this?” he was surprised at your amazing skills as your hand even caressed his balls. You got his dick out of your mouth with a perfect plop and nodded before continuing. “My god you’re really good at this. Fuck baby.” Pedro held your hair back and couldn’t help but thrust into your mouth, making you gag but took in everything he gave you.

“I can’t wait anymore. If you keep doing this, I’m going to cum in no time.” He told you when he took you off his cock. He sat up and took your dress off from your body. his hands discovering your skin before he took your bra off as well. “God, you’re gorgeous” he admired your body before his lips found your neck again, kissing and sucking on it. You moaned out again and his finger played with your clit again. He went from your neck to your breast, squeezing them and sucking on your nipple. Excitement grew in your stomach again, spreading another heatwave towards your pussy while he sucked on your nipple. He knew how much you liked it when he did this by the way you moaned above him.

Pedro laid you down on your back again and spread your legs before laying between them. “You’re really sure of this?” he asked you again, making you nod and pulled him down for a kiss again. You pushed your hips up, grinding your wet pussy over his dick. Pedro felt himself grow weak already at the way you felt over his cock. Pedro groaned and took his cock in his hand and guided it to your entrance, looking at you again to see if you were in any pain. He carefully pushed the tip in and you moaned out loudly when Pedro groaned as well. You felt pain shooting through you.

Pedro waited until you were able to take more. A tear escaped from the corner of your eye, which Pedro obviously noticed. “Hey sshhh it’s okay. If you want me to stop, I’ll stop okay?” You nodded “Do you want me to stop?” this time you shook your head and Pedro softly left kisses over your face. He let out a shaky breath, he had to gather all of his energy to not to pound you out completely right now.

“It’s okay…” you told him and Pedro pushed more in, he wasn’t even halfway in and you stopped him again. He waited until you were ready again and sucked your nipple, making you clench on his cock. He pulled his hips back before he slowly entered you again. Not pushing anymore in but for friction. Your hands were on his back, your nails digging into his skin. “More please” you murmured out but loud enough for Pedro to hear you. He pushed his cock in and collapsed on you for a moment. “You feel so good on my cock. Like you were made just for me princesa.” You moaned out, wanting more friction so you moved your hips eagerly and Pedro looked down how you grinded your pussy on his dick.

“Please fuck me daddy.” He could just cum right then and there but he needed to last longer for you while you kept grinding. Pedro got out of you, making you feel confused. Pedro laid down on his back and hinted for you to come over to him. “Why don’t you ride daddy, baby. I know how you use those hips.” He told you and helped you up on his cock. You slowly slid down on his cock but you couldn’t take all of him in yet. You slowly moved up and down, Pedro’s hands on your hips, guiding you. “There you go baby. You’re doing so good for daddy.” Pedro murmured out while he let his head fall down.

You wanted to take him all in just for him. Be the good girl that he want. When you slid his dick completely in, he looked at you in surprise but the feeling caught up too fast with him and he moaned out. Your pussy was gripping his cock for dear life “oh you’re such a good girl.” He cried out and you slowly grinded on his cock. His fingers dug into your skin and you were sure it was going to leave a mark later.

After a couple of minutes of you grinding on his cock, he couldn’t take it anymore. “My god, I’ve got to fuck you baby. I’m so close.” He told you and laid you down on your back. He pushed your legs a bit up and entered you again, both moaning out at the feeling. He started to fuck you and you grabbed his hand, putting it around your throat so he could choke you. He carefully squeezed your throat while he started fucking you harder, his thumb rubbing on your clit. You were shaking again, you were so overstimulated that you really didn’t know if you had another orgasm in you.

His cock hit your g-spot perfectly and your pussy was making a lot of wet noises again. “Oh I make you feel good too don’t I, baby girl?” you nodded while he fastened his pace on your clit. “That’s it. Be a good girl and cum for daddy. Let go, remember?” he asked you again but you were unable to respond as the euphory took over. You clenched his cock so hard that he fell through his knees. “I’m going to cum too.” He announced, wanting to get out of you but you pulled him back quickly. “No, please cum in me. It’s okay. Please I need it daddy, I need your cum.” Pedro couldn’t hold back anymore and you felt something warm fill you up while Pedro let out some grumbles and groans. You could feel him twitch inside of you.

Pedro tried to regain his breathing back and carefully got out of you, making you both moan out. He laid down on his side, facing you. “Are you okay sweetheart?” he asked you, cupping your cheek. You smiled and kissed him. “Yeah very much so.” Pedro smiled lovingly as well. He looked at you, completely mesmerized. He carefully went with his hand over your hair. You turned over as well and placed your arm around him, wanting him closer. “Can you stay with me tonight?” you asked him hopeful. Pedro smiled and kissed your nose. “Of course I will.” You smiled and shyly hid your face against his chest.

#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal daddy #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal x female original character #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal oneshot

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fruithoughts · 18 days ago

Text

NCT AS ADDAMS FAMILY.

members included: jeno, jaemin, taeyong, yuta, mark, jaehyun, ten and kun.

cw: multiple possessive and slightly derogatory pet names, smut? kind of?, VERY suggestive, mentions of jealousy and possessive behaviour, losers in love, creepy behaviour in the end of jaehyun's segment, poly, religious references.

— Gomez!Kun who gets a little too angry whenever any of the boys(with the exception of M!Ten) insist on leaving his sweetheart's neck full of angry, possessive purple marks, his princess is HIS, and whoever has the privilege of being allowed to do so much as touch her, should treat her as what she is, someone else’s most precious possession which ultimately doesn't belong to them.

— Gomez!Kun who only allows the boys to touch her at all because if there's something the many centuries of living in this dark mansion has proved him, is that they’re the only men in this world, other than himself, who are deserving of being around his angel.

— Gomez!Kun who sometimes gets too jealous and considers taking away everybody's "touching the princess" privileges, but stops entertaining the idea as soon as he considers how much she likes them because he would rather force himself to ignore his possessive tendencies than to see his sweet girl upset over something he did.

— Gomez!Kun who only allows his pup into his office so he can keep an eye on her somewhere he knows nobody else in the house would dare to come in, they know better. Who bought a fluffy white rug and a vintage pink armchair to put in the middle of his big office, right in front of his desk, so he could watch his lovely petal waste the afternoon away watching things on her phone or reading a book, all his to watch, all his to use and break, all his to keep on his lap while he’s working late at night, all his.

— Morticia!Ten who woke up in tears in the middle of the night because he had a nightmare about God himself coming down to take their angel away from them and back to heaven, claiming that it was a mistake that she fell on earth in the first place and now he's taking her back.

— Morticia!Ten was in such distress he didn't even think before holding her closer and quickly started pounding his sweet puppy into oblivion, leaving scratches, bites, bruises and handprints all over her beautiful body as a desperate attempt to make her unholy, if there was anything about his girl that made her deserving of ever witnessing the golden gates, there wouldn't be anymore, not after he was done with her.

— Morticia!Ten who pays for a whole new closet to be built and added to the master bedroom(which belongs to him, his princess and G!Kun) all because he loves to dress her up in all kinds of pretty gowns that just won't fit in one closet, so he makes another.

— Morticia!Ten who clicks his tongue in fake disgust whenever he holds his angel’s chin and judges her bright and cute makeup, who tells her that she should ask him for help to do darker makeup instead of ruining the family’s aesthetic. Who smiles to himself when his doll sticks her little pink tongue out at him and calls him a “toxic goth” for bothering her about her style.

— Morticia!Ten who secretly adores her cute makeup and even gets off to the fact that she’s so different from everyone in the house, but will keep bothering her about her looks until she ultimately goes to him to ask for help on doing a darker makeup look, then he’ll be able to sit his princess on his lap and look at her adorable face while doing the very same makeup he puts on himself everyday on her instead, his own little twisted way of making her his, even if she doesn’t even realize.

— Gomez’s Brother!Jaehyun who was so cautious about the family’s new “pet”(who was only considered for the family until G!Kun and M!Ten decided to claim her as their girl, less than a week after she arrieved in the mansion) and was so sure that her personality was all for show and it wouldn’t take more than a month for her to lose her mind with the dynamics of their home, ultimately letting her true self shine through. Who got, oh, so bitter when he realized he could not have been more incorrect in his judgements.

— Gomez’s Brother!Jaehyun who becomes intoxicated with affection for this girl to the point he keeps traveling around for "no specific reason", the real motive being to prevent him from becoming as dependent of her as the others in the house. He misses her a lot when he’s away, but knowing his and his brother's temper, it’s for the best that he doesn’t get too attached to her, sick possessiveness runs on the family.

— Gomez’s Brother!Jaehyun who buys her cute trinkets in all of his travels, who goes to every single vintage shop in and out of sight to get her unique things from everywhere around the world, things she couldn’t have get from anyone else. Who gets all warm and fuzzy when he comes home and hears the girl’s fast footsteps coming down stairs to see him.

— Gomez’s Brother!Jaehyun who messages her on a daily basis, knowing damn well most of the old souls of his family refuse to use phones regularly, especially to talk to people inside their own home, he knows she is always free when it comes to messaging him, so he takes advantage of that.

— Gomez’s Brother!Jaehyun who gets not-so-innocently excited when she texts him “yeah!! i’m free to call :D” so cute, he could destroy her, but unfortunately she girl isn’t truly his to break. Who swears that his phone’s camera isn’t working properly and that’s why he won’t turn it on, lying straight out of his teeth while he gets off to her sweet voice in the most silent way he can manage.

— Pet Servant!Mark who was not expecting to see a person coming home with his bosses after they told the whole house that they were "going out on a mission to find the perfect family pet". Who was not disappointed or appalled by the surprise either. Of course he had many actual animals to care for, The Adams had snakes, cats, dogs, rodents, fishes, they had just about any thing that could show some sort of life in the house, but the girl was sure a fun new addition to his daily routine.

— Pet Servant!Mark who takes full advantage of the fact she loves animals to easily scoop her away all for himself for the whole day whenever he starts the morning taking care of the snakes, she loves them but no one other than M!Ten is allowed in the snake’s area, no one other than PS!Mark, who feeds them, cleans their spaces and makes sure they stay healthy. Who mindlessly breaks one of his very few rules by bringing her into the snakes area because she likes them.

— Pet Servant!Mark who allows her to change the pet’s collars to pretty pink bows for long just enough for her to take cute pictures of them, then he changes it back to their black leather collars with big spikes. Who sits in the garden with her the whole day while claiming that he’s “watching out for the dogs”, he isn’t, he rarely remenbers they're even there. Who has decided that his favorite part of the day is the sweet kisses he gets to have with The Adam's Pretty Girl as soon as the sun starts fading out.

— Pet Servant!Mark who spends the rainy days with her lounging in The Adam's big living room, him slouched on the couch, hands massaging her soft(and often sore) thighs resting right above his own while she reads a book, both enjoying comfortable silence.

+ thing!yuta has a normal body, his hand is just detachable +

— Thing!Yuta who wasn't very excited about his new toy when G!Kun and M!Ten walked into the house, only to be pleasantly surprised by the sight of a beautiful girl in a pretty skirt instead of some smelly animal. Who as soon as he realized just how sweet and pure said girl was, decided to become her living nightmare.

— Thing!Yuta who once overheard M!Ten refering to her as “his marionette” and decided that’s the only nickname he would ever call her, shamelessly stealing her actual owner’s little pet name, just like he would shamelessly steal his girl the second he had a chance of doing so, the chance would never come, he knew it, but a man can be delusional every once in a century.

— Thing!Yuta who did it all, said all kinds of vulgar things to tease her out of nowhere, all of the things that made his pretty baby's snap her, usually all marked up, neck at him in dangerous speeds. Who always laughed at her big reactions and found it hilarious she behaved so innocently even after all of the filthy things they’ve done with her, all of the filthy things they've done to her.

— Thing!Yuta who sneaks his detached hand on her multiple times a day just to scare her because he's bored. Who everytime she complained about him scaring her made sure to remind his dear marionette just how much she loved his "magic hand" whenever he and W!Jaemin played with her.

— Thing!Yuta who daily fantasies about the possibility of using his special hand to touch his pretty girl while she’s with someone entirely, the idea of him not even being in the same room as her but still being the reason behind her sweet little sounds just made him go a little bit insane, he hasn’t had the courage to talk with her or his house members about it yet, he will eventually, it's bound to happen.

— Manservant!Taeyong who was just so, so shy as soon as her pretty face showed up in the door, he was so scared of her. This poor thing who never thought of himself as presentable or handsome, was just so embarrassed of doing so much as being in the same room as her, when he noticed that despite his distant behavior she continuously kept trying to talk to him, he gave up on hiding and faced world's scariest monster, who just so happens to also be world's prettiest girl.

— Manservant!Taeyong who went out his way to start reading books so he would have something to talk about with the pretty girl instead of just listening to her rambles, as much as he enjoyed them, he wanted nothing more than for her to find him interesting, cool even, it was his dream.

— Manservant!Taeyong who opened up about feeling insecure in comparison to the other men in the house and listened very carefully as she explained to him that he was just as handsome as them, the only difference was that they had a very specific style which fit them well, and they took advantage of it.

— Manservant!Taeyong who went around all smiley with his precious girl to the mall in search for things he liked, who was confident enough to joke with her and was just SO giddy when she laughed. Who had trouble falling asleep because his brain keeps replaying all of their sweet moments together that day. Who after a while starts having trouble falling asleep because his mind keeps replaying all of their sinful memories that make his mouth water and his body shake.

— Manservant!Taeyong who years after the arrival of his dear girl looked almost unrecognizable, multiple tattoos and some piercings here and there, who started dressing with clothes he liked instead of the work clothes he was used to, so much more talkative, much more of a goofball, a proud goofball. Who actually had conversations with the people of the house and felt like a part of their family. And her, god, he adores her. His sweet little thing, who he leans down to multiple times a day so she can hold his face with her pretty hands and place a thousand kisses on his cheeks.

— Wednesday!Jaemin who was convinced upon first sight that he would have to ignore her constantly and was so sure she would be nothing but a huge pain in his ass with her pink clothes and her shiny hair that looked so soft and smelled so good. She smelled good all the time, it annoyed him, spending such a long time inside meant he was pretty much used to the same 7 smells for such a long time. Then this lil kitten turned human shows up with her pretty kissable face and plush red lips and long sparkly nails and the sugary tone of her voice and… Oh, oh no. He likes her.

— Wednesday!Jaemin who kept telling her to stop following him everywhere after he mysteriously started showing up in all of her favorite places in the mansion, who dreamed that at some point she would like him enough to follow him around like she did with her owners.

— Wednesday!Jaemin who discovers a new side of himself while he teases her alongside T!Yuta. He, who was always the reserved, quiet one of their friendship, had seemed to have found a new passion in bothering their favorite girl, as time went on he became louder and louder and the boys seemed to be amused, watching him change into someone else right in front of their eyes, that was, until he started bothering them as well.

— Wednesday!Jaemin who somehow always ends up being her little toy that she walks around with through the whole mansion the entire day because once they hold hands for some reason in the morning, he simply doesn’t have the heart to let go and just allows her to drag him like a ragdoll while pretending to be annoyed, he secretly loves it. Who keeps telling her every single scary story that comes to his mind(or that he makes up at the spot) only to not-so-discreetly offer his companion to protect her when the night comes around.

— Wednesday!Jaemin who gets pathetically addicted to her, her scent, her voice, the feeling of her hand on his, the feeling of her lips on his, the feeling of her body on his, he’s long gone. Who takes far too much pride in being the person G!Kun and M!Ten allow to sleep with their precious doll on the all too rare occasions that they aren’t home. He spends these glorious days teasing her about experimenting with group intimacy, said experiment would be kept as their little secret. Nothing actually happens, he knows that their girl is far too obedient and would be telling her owners about everything as soon as they arrived back home, but a boy can dream.

— Bodyguard!Jeno who was, at the very least, really confused when he arrived to pick up M!Ten to his monthly trip to town’s fanciest mall and said man walked out of his mansion not only with his husband, but also with someone else, someone new. His bosses didn’t give him much information about her, they had always been secretive so it came as no surprise, they only told him that she was a new addi(c)tion to the family, therefore, outside of the mansion; she was under his protection too.

— Bodyguard!Jeno who found all too amusing just how gentle yet undeniably obsessed his bosses managed to act around their new found passion, he wondered what was it about her that would make these well put together men act like feral dogs protecting their territory. Who just after his second ever encounter with The Adam’s girl, got his answer. He, who barely spoke to his bosses during all these years of serving them, found himself laughing comfortably and even engaging in her never stopping rambles.

— Bodyguard!Jeno who allows her to doll him up while they hang out in his parked car in front of the mansion, ready to go home, but not wanting to just yet. Who lets her put sparkly shades all over his face and test different lip combos with her newly bought makeup, who plans on letting his hair grow a little bit so she can play with his hair like she does with T!Yuta, he’s sure that she does it with M!Ten as well but he’s never seen it.

— Bodyguard!Jeno who shoves information about all kinds silly things she likes in the boy’s group chat, any movies she mentions, any new style she’s looking into, any new interests at all, they all do it but he does it the most selflessly for sure, the others hide most of the important information they get from her to use for their own advantage.

— Bodyguard!Jeno who doesn’t allow himself to be delusional when it comes to The Adams’s girl. He knows that at the end of the day his little shot of a expresso of a person isn’t truly his, nor will she ever be, he’s fine with that, as long as he keeps his head in place and doesn’t let himself fall into the dreamland(which she proves time and time again to be quite the challenge), he’ll be fine and she’ll be safe, and that’s what matter the most.

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androgynous-agent69 · 24 days ago

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Idk if anyone's had a similar idea, but I HC that Narinder's injuries due to being trapped for so long are actually more than just about his arms and such.

Sure, his arms occasionally become skeletal and stuff when he gets angry or distressed, but what if the godly form he was in was one of the few things keeping him alive as his mortal form still deteriorated, and once he loses that access to his god form, he suddenly realises just how much is wrong with his now-permanant mortal body.

When he first joins into the Lamb's Cult, he is not only thin and bony due to having barely any sustenance throughout his isolation, but due to being trapped in that realm in said godly form for so long, his body has gotten so adjusted to it that, like the other Bishops when they first have to rely on living without their crowns (leshy being fully blind, kallamar being deaf, etc), he struggles to even do basic cognitive skills such as simply looking around. And to add insult to injury? They're related to his siblings' wounds.

His eyes, due to being so used to seeing an endless white cloudy void, interrupted only by the red of his cloak and the black of his two guardians and of the chains protruding to the skies, are irritated by anything too close or to colourful, to the point where he spends days in bed, with his head smushed firmly up to a pillow to prevent his eyes from feeling like they're being pulled out.

His ears, due to the aforementioned realm being so eerily quiet, with only his kits voices to be heard when they speak quietly below him, are sensing everything in the cult 10x louder than they should be, to the point where his brain is pounding in his skull due to the attempts of trying to hear 20+ people when he can barely handle 1.

His throat, having not properly spoken in ages, is hoarse and rough. Even back when he first met the Lamb, the Red Crown had to quickly work to restore the vocals of TOWW in order to give conversations differing from grunts of approval/disproval, and it makes it so that even on the days he CAN step outside of his hut to see the others, he can barely converse (not that he'd really like to, but what else is there to do than attend the sermons of his own usurper?)

And his brain, due to aeons of seclusion, with again only his two servants to be with, has devolved Narinder's social skills and patience into dust, making him easily frustratedly when even the smallest of tasks don't go his way, and makes him isolated from the other followers.

Now, of course, over the years, these things would return to him like riding a bike. He'd start eating more and go from looking like a skeleton to a regular cultist, his eyes, ears and throat would adjust and fix themselves, his brain would figure out how to integrate himself among the other cult members. Once he gets to the pedaling, he gets to freely ride down the hill, until, on the ten-year anniversary of the Lamb's ascension, the now-cleansed Ex-Bishops turned disciples join a fully reformed Narinder and the Lamb in a small private ceremony, meeting in the place where a family was once torn apart, now reunited and one person bigger.

#cult of the lamb #cotl narinder #cotl heket #cotl leshy #cotl kallamar #cotl shamura #cotl lamb #cotl aym #cotl baal #ngl did NOT mean for the ending to be worded so well like that #but imma roll with it bc i definitely most certaintly wasnt sat for 5 minutes figuring out how to end the thing LMFAO #also dont worry about the other bishops #we can say that they got food and stuff from their followers #as for Aym and Baal...?#idfk plot ┐(￣ヘ￣)┌

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thehereticdiaries · 9 days ago

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Dead Man Walking: Chapter One

Chapter Summary: A herd is closing in on you. Everything feels hopeless until you get dragged into an alley and brought to a new group.

Warnings: Nothing too bad in this chapter, zombie chase, weapons mentioned

Not beta read we die like men

Series Masterlist

Your lungs burned as your feet pounded across the asphalt. You’ve been sprinting full speed for more than ten minutes and fatigue threatened to trip you up. The herd of the undead drew closer and closer. The smell of rotting flesh only made each breath more difficult. You’d think zombies would be slow, right? They should be shuffling around, brainlessly swiping their arms at the living. Well, they do. Unless they were freshly turned. That classic “zombie walk” didn’t set in until they decomposed a bit. Before they lose muscle mass, they can run just as fast as any living human.

You dodged the mangled hand that shot out at your shoulder. Your hands burned when you used the corner of a brick building to make a sharp turn down yet another side street. God, these fuckers were everywhere. You screamed when another set of hands succeeded in yanking you into an alleyway. You threw your body weight into the body behind you, hoping to throw them off balance.

“Hey, stop that! I’m trying to help you!” The sound of a living person’s voice shot a spark of hope up your spine. You spun around to face a young man with dark hair and wide eyes. A moment of silence passed between you, but it was quickly broken by the groans of the undead closing in. The guy grabbed your hand and pulled you along the alley. He pushed you forward, towards a ladder on the side of a tall building. A very, very tall building. You hesitated, craning your neck back to try and find the top.

“Up! Up! Up!” Your new companion shouted. He practically lifted you onto the first rung, forcing you to begin climbing. You didn’t dare to look down. Even though zombies can run, they luckily lack the motor control to climb ladders. At the top of the building, two more sets of hands yanked you onto the roof. You crumbled to your hands and knees, desperately trying to catch your breath.

“Who the hell is this, Yeosang?!” You forced yourself to look up at the group that saved you. Four men stood a few feet away from you.

“Chill out, she’s alone and she needed help getting away from the herd,” the man you now know as Yeosang sighed.

“It could’ve been a trap, did you even think of that? Send a girl out on her own so some poor bastard saves her.” You cringed at the shorter man’s venomous words. He pointedly glared at you. “Then the rest of her group shows up to rob or kill you.”

“I don’t have a group.” You were still panting, but you needed to defend yourself from this guy. “I’ve been on my own for, like, two weeks now.” Yeosang sends his friend a look that screams ‘told you so’.

“Right, whatever. You did your one good deed for the day. Let’s go.” Panic swelled in your chest when two of the four turned to walk away.

“No! No, please, don’t leave me alone again.” You scrambled to your feet. “I’m going to go insane without other people.” The man that was lecturing Yeosang turned back to you, looking incredibly unimpressed. “I won’t be dead weight, I can help your group.”

“Yeah? How?”

“I’m a doctor.” The other three all snapped their heads to you.

“You’re really a doctor?” A guy with very large biceps asked, looking skeptically hopeful.

“Well, almost. I was in my final semester of medical school when shit hit the fan. I was doing my residency at Saint Damian’s.” You explained while fiddling with your fingers. “I was going to be an emergency room physician.”

“Minho, she could be a huge asset. None of us really know what to do with our medical supplies.” Muscle guy failed to whisper to his mean friend. Minho sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The weight of four sets of eyes fell onto his shoulders.

“Fine.” He threw his arms up in defeat. Relief washed over you, and you couldn’t hold back your grin. “But you’re going to explain how you ended up here to the leaders of our group. They’ll decide if you can stay.”

“Okay, yeah that’s totally fair.” Minho shook his head. He turned and gestured for you to follow. Yeosang took the lead, keeping the group on rooftops for most of the journey back to their home base. On the outskirts of the city, the buildings got shorter and shorter. Skyscrapers and tall apartments gave way to humble one or two story offices and houses. Your group jogged up to one of the offices. The front door was barricaded shut with wood planks and barbed wire, but you could see a tiny slit for a guard to peep through.

Yeosang led you to the back of the building. You stopped in front of a heavy-looking metal door. Minho stepped forward. He knocked on the door three times, paused, then knocked twice. The door swung open and a very pretty man with blonde hair and freckles appeared.

“What the hell took you guys so long?!” His voice was much deeper than you anticipated. “Who’s that?”

“Some girl that Yeosang decided to keep.” Minho pushed past the freckled boy, who scrunched his eyebrows at his friend. You glared at his back, annoyed that he spoke of you like you were a dog.

“She was being chased by a herd. Probably would’ve died if I didn’t help,” Yeosang clarified. He nodded towards the door and everyone filed inside. The door thudded shut, and the freckled boy slid several locks into place. It looked like you were in what used to be a maintenance room. Most of the equipment had been removed in favor of shelves of weapons.

“Minho probably went to grab our group’s leaders,” the muscular man began. “We need to check over your bag and pockets before we let you in.” You nodded, kneeling down to empty the contents of your backpack onto the concrete floor. You had an extra t-shirt, a thin hoodie, socks, underwear, a sports bra, two granola bars, and a flashlight. The pockets of your jeans were empty except for a hair tie.

“What weapons do you have?” The fourth guy from the roof finally spoke up. He hadn’t said a word the whole way back to their base.

“Hunting knife, .380 with no bullets, pocket knife, and a machete.” You placed each weapon on the floor as you listed them. The quiet man crouched and checked the pistol to make sure it was actually empty.

“You can put your stuff back in your bag. The weapons stay here while you talk with Chan and Hongjoong.” You shoved your belongings back into your bag while the quiet guy and the muscular guy took your weapons to a desk along the wall. The inside door opened and Minho returned with two more men in tow.

“Leave your bag in here for now, we’re going to one of the private offices to talk.” A man with an Australian accent instructed. He and the other man Minho brought over started down a hallway. You rushed to follow them, eager to explain yourself and (hopefully) be accepted into this group. They led you into a spacious office. Sunlight peeked through the slats of wood nailed to the windows. The desk was cluttered with loose paper, notebooks, and maps. They pulled an office chair in front of a small couch, which they swiftly occupied. You hesitantly sat on the office chair, suddenly feeling like you had been called to the principal's office.

“I’m Chan, or Chris, and this is Hongjoong.” Chan gestured between him and his co-leader.

“Y/N.”

“Alright, Y/N, can you explain why you were alone, and how you ended up being chased by that herd?” You looked down to your lap. You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to answer Chan’s questions. They sat in silence, patiently waiting for you to collect your thoughts. Shit, this was not going to be fun to talk about.

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haikyuulovercompany · 3 months ago

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The Very First | Hinata Shoyo x Reader

Hinata Shoyo had been experiencing many new things since he started high school... and among them, his very first date. And even, his very first confession.

Genre: Fluff. HighSchool!Hinata

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.9K

Notes: Hinata on his first date... what could be cuter?

Original Post ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Hinata looked at himself in the mirror. He checked his hair. He had tried his best to fix it, but some strands of hair seemed impossible to tame. He had managed to side part it, but it still looked messy. It was slightly leaning to the left side which somehow gave him a more formal appearance. He passed his hands through them one more time, and yet, a couple of them went in different directions. He sighed and had to settle for it. He would be late otherwise.

His eyes drifted down his outfit. His short-sleeve, button up shirt was impeccable. It was clean and ironed. He had made sure of it. He had carefully taken it back to his room the night before once his mother was done ironing it, and had hung it on the back of his door, trusting it wouldn’t get ruined there.

His hands were clammy and the slight pink on his cheeks gave away how flustered he was feeling. He wasn’t even there yet and he was already losing his nerves. He wanted the date to be excellent. He had gone through enough public and personal embarrassment for it to not be great. For starters, you were great. With the thought of you, a hand flew to his chest as a warm sensation spread everywhere in him. Whenever he thought of you, he got that same ardent feeling. That had been why he had asked you out. It had taken a little time, but he had eventually realized what it meant—what you meant for him.

He shook his hand and slapped himself on both cheeks. He stared at the mirror one more time ignoring the new redness of his skin. It was time for him to go. He left his house and headed to the subway. He decided not to take his bike. He could ruin his outfit and he would arrive all sweaty. It wasn’t like him to care too much about his personal presentation, he really wanted you to see and know he was making the effort.

He arrived at their meeting point ten minutes beforehand. He smiled pleased. Arriving early was a great way to start the date. You wouldn’t have to wait alone for him. He would hate to arrive and see you standing there all by yourself, waiting for him to show up. He sat on the bench closest to him and used the time to relax. He inhaled deeply but one his feet began to tap and tap on the floor. Both his hands were also tapping on the bench. He was definitely still very nervous. His stomach growled. He wasn’t hungry at all, it was just his body acting up.

‘I can’t throw up here. Not here, please,’ he mentally told himself. He had brushed his teeth twice. Twice. He wasn’t going to kiss you that day, and he knew because he wasn’t ready for something like that. If he even dared to do it… then he would throw up thanks to all the anticipation and the stress of finding the right moment to do it. The sole idea made his stomach ache worse and he had to use all the strength in him to walk away from those thoughts.

Hinata bent forward, squeezing his eyes and doing breathing exercises to keep his head cool. But as he tried to stop his head from revising every way in which the date could go wrong, a pair of shoes appeared in his line of vision followed by your voice.

“Did you wait much for me?” you asked, catching her breath. Hinata lifted his head in a quick snap and all of his worries simply vanished once he focused on your eyes. His mind went practically blank for a couple seconds and then he abruptly stood up.

“Not at all,” he quickly answered, taking a good second look at you.

His heart was pounding harder than before and he could feel his cheeks growing warm. You looked different out of your uniform and what he could tell were nicer clothes. You were too pretty.

“Shall we go?” you asked, also wanting to erase the blush on your face.

“Yeah, yeah. I said I would take you somewhere. Let’s… let’s go,” he mumbled as he examined the surroundings, moving his head to all sides.

His mind began picking up where they were and remembering the way they were supposed to go. He had planned the entire evening. As he looked around, a store with bright, pink walls was what triggered his memories. You two had to pass that store and then go left.

“It’s this way,” he said with a more confident smile, back to his usual self.

You allowed yourself to be guided by Hinata. He was being clearly cautious of his every move. If he was going to be described by some close friend, the term ‘introvert’ wouldn’t be said at all. But at that moment he felt unusually timid to the point words had trouble leaving his mouth.

This didn’t go past you. You could say you knew Hinata well. You could name some of his favorite things and even the little quirks he sometimes did when he didn’t realize, like how he squeezed his hands into fists whenever he strayed inside his mind—just like right now.

You cleared your throat and began describing the shimmering day. The sky was blue without a cloud, and while that meant the rain wouldn’t ruin your day, you two most probably would end up with a sunburn on your faces. Hinata felt the corners of his lips twitching into an involuntary smile. He was grateful for your small talk. The pressure he had put on himself slowly lifted as you kept going, now talking about the latest little adventure your best friend wanted to take you to. You seemed to be completely relaxed, and that helped him do the same. He reminded himself why the two of you were there. You weren’t a stranger he had to impress. You were… you. With who he felt comfortable, who he trusted, who he laughed with every day between classes. Everything was going to be okay.

The place Hinata had chosen was an ice cream shop famous for their eccentric flavors. Getting something fresh and sweet during the heat of the summer sounded like the best idea for him. He wanted to do something cool, something different—but still not go overboard. It had been Sugawara who had suggested the place to him in secrecy for obvious reasons. He was nervous enough to then have his entire team on his case.

He had begun to explain everything about the place as soon as it appeared on their field of view with the intention of creating anticipation. It was clear by how small the place was and the lack of people inside that the shop was indeed quite new in town. They were welcomed by the cold breeze of the air conditioner, sending a chill down their backs.

They headed straight to the counter. The rainbow of options appeared in front of them. The white, small cards in front of each flavor also include the little list of ingredients each flavor had. ‘Summer Nights’ apparently was a mixture of orange, apple and honey—and that was one of the simplest flavors they had to offer.

Hinata tried to focus on picking his own flavor, but he kept stealing glances at you. You were way ahead of him, asking the guy on the other side to give you a small try from the two different flavors you were split between. He was practically gawking at you as he stood still on the same spot pretending he wasn’t.

“Are you going to pick it or not?” asked an older voice. The other guy behind the counter looked at him without patience. Hinata nodded with panic and took the small spoon he was offering at him. He had left the guy literally hanging there.

“I have mine,” you announced. Hinata blinked twice with the small spoon still in his mouth. It wasn’t the tastiest flavor he had ever tried, but it wasn’t too bad, so he only nodded to the guy who still stared at him bored.

“Please find your table, and I’ll find you in a moment,” replied the guy as if he was reading the phrase from a script.

You two chose a table and fell back into complete silence. It wasn’t an award one. It was more the type of silence where you could feel the other waiting for you to say something but being lost for words yourself. You were looking around the place as if you were at the Sistine Chapel—surrounded by beauty that demanded to be seen when you were at an ice-cream place.

Hinata fiddled with his thumbs under the table, stealing fleeting glances at you. Why was it that you two seemed to be able to talk about everything at school, but the moment he was finally alone with you… his mind went completely blank?

After minutes of silence and staring at everything but each other, he finally leaned into the table with a question in his mind. You turned to him when you felt the table moving. You locked eyes with each other and his heart fluttered. His mouth stayed ajar and his voice was nowhere to be found. Soon enough, two cups were placed in front of them.

“Enjoy it,” said a girl this time around, who in contrast to the other two guys, had a gentle smile on her face.

When Hinata returned his eyes to you, you were still looking at him, waiting to hear whatever he had to say. He couldn’t even stand himself at the time being. He was so chatty at school. He always greeted her, even laughed with her. Maybe it was the weight of the situation that had eaten his tongue. It wasn’t a normal day. It was a date.

You suddenly leaned on the table and stole some ice cream from Hinata’s cup. “Mmm good choice. I still like mine more, but yours is good, too,” you said and then pushed your cup closer to him. “Want to try mine?”

Five seconds later, he nodded. He picked up his spoon and scoop some of your ice cream. His eyes opened. “Aaaah, yours is really good!”

“I know, right?” You took a spoon full from Hinata’s again. “Maybe we should share,” you offered, followed by a nervous chuckle. “I liked the one you picked, too.”

“Well, I like you more than my ice cream,” he said.

While you perfectly heard what he had said, your brain still took a minute to process it. You went completely red and Hinata choked with his own saliva when he realized what had slipped from his lips. “I-I mean, I like your ice cream more than my ice cream. Th-that’s what I wanted to-to say!” he rambled as his own face turned even more red than yours. His own thoughts had betrayed him.

“It’s okay, Hinata,” you answered. You swallowed thick and tried to be as confident as possible. “I mean, if we’re both here it is because we both like the ice cream,” you said still with rosy cheeks.

“Y-yeah, exactly!” he immediately answered as he ate some more ice cream as if by swallowing more of it, he would also swallow his shame.

You sighed.

Hinata hadn’t picked up what you had meant to say at all. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

♡ Thanks for reading! ♡

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu blog #hinata shoyo #hinata shouyo x reader #hinata x reader #hinata shoyo x you #haikyuu x you

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