#it finally sunk in that you really didn’t give a shit about me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

burningembers91 · 9 days ago

Text

The Fear of Feeling Nothing - Choi Su-Bong x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Not Who I Want to Be The Beauty of Vulnerability Fuscia Pink Kisses Performance of a Lifetime Vacation Mode

Synopsis: Choi Su-Bong is forced to face his addiction head on

A/N: Based on this ask

Life had been a whirlwind since you’d returned from vacation. Choi Su-Bong had barely been home, touring the country with his record label, recording songs in the studio, and giving interview after interview. You’d barely had time for each other, save for a few phone conversations and three blissful nights that he’d managed to sneak away and spend at home. You’d been renovating the apartment, painting walls, ripping up carpets and replacing kitchen cabinets, and the whole place just felt chaotic.

You knew Su-Bong was keeping himself busy on purpose. If he was busy, he wouldn’t have time to deal with his dad. The man had been calling him non-stop, leaving voicemails and text messages at all hours of the day and night. He knew he’d have to see him at some point, knew he’d have to face up to the man who had turned him into a monster.

He’d tried to explain to you what life had been like growing up, but it was hard to put it into words. You had such a great relationship with your family and couldn’t even begin to fathom the things Su-Bong had been put through. Years of his dad’s drinking, physical and mental abuse, and living in constant fear of the man who was supposed to have loved him had left their mark and Su-Bong could feel old habits trying to scratch their way back into his life.

He desperately wanted a drink, craved the numbness that came from the colourful little pills he used to pop. He didn’t have you around him to keep him grounded, didn’t have the safety of your embrace to turn to whenever things got hard. He wanted to ask you to come with him on his press tour, but you had your own work to focus on, and the apartment desperately needed sorting. He had to be strong for you, had to stay sober for you. if he lost you, life would lose it’s meaning entirely.

It was late when his phone rang, breaking through the light sleep he’d finally fallen into after hours of tossing and turning. His dad’s name flashed up on his screen and he immediately silenced the phone. There was nothing that man had to say that Su-Bong wanted to hear.

“Why don’t you block him?” you asked then next day on FaceTime, giving him a tour of the kitchen you’d be awake until 2am painting. “If you have nothing to say to him, and you don’t want contact with him, block his number.” Su-Bong had thought about doing that, but could never bring himself to do it. he wasn’t sure why, but something always stopped him just before he hit the button. “Part of me wants to know why he’s back,” he admitted. “I keep wondering if maybe he’s come to apologise.” He knew that wouldn’t be the case. His dad was a textbook narcissist, and never felt any remorse for his actions, because he never felt like he’d done anything wrong. “Would you accept his apology?” you asked. He knew the answer was no, but it didn’t stop him wondering if maybe, after all these years, his dad had seen the light.

The next day, Su-Bong had another four missed calls, and the day after that there were another three. “Please, son,” his father’s voice begged down the phone. “Just hear me out. Meet me tonight at The Python Lounge. I really need to talk to you.”

Against his better judgement, Su-Bong found himself outside his father’s favourite bar, finally relenting on the man’s request to meet up. He hadn’t stepped inside a bar since meeting you, hadn’t had a drop to drink in months. He could feel the desire clawing at his skin, could feel the insatiable thirst gripping him. He had to stay strong though, for you.

Heading inside, he couldn’t see his father but found a quiet table in the corner. The bar was a complete shit hole, the kind of place you went to drink yourself to death. Su-Bong sunk down into the booth, eager to hide his face. Not that he was worried about seeing anyone here. The bar was mostly empty, and the few people propped up on bar stools were too drunk to know their own name, let alone recognise him.

He waited, and waited, finally calling his father when an hour had gone by. His phone went straight to voicemail, so Su-Bong hung up and tried again. He was getting angrier as the minutes passed, unable to believe he’d been stupid enough to allow himself to believe his father would show up. He’d failed him his entire life, so why had he expected him to change his ways now? The need for a drink was almost overwhelming now, the heavy smell of liquor in the air making his mouth water. His chest was tightening, a sign he now recognised as a panic attack. A drink could soothe him, could calm the rising nerves.

He balled his fists, willing himself to be stronger, to be better than his addiction. He needed to leave, needed to get out of this shithole and head home to you. “Thanos?!” His heard his name, his old name, and turned around. One of his old friends stood behind him, the man who had been glued to his side at every party. He could barely even remember his name. Kang-Hun? Was that his name? It embarrassed him that he couldn’t recall. “It’s Choi Su-Bong now,” he snapped, his anger almost at boiling point. Why, when he was trying so hard to be a better person, did his past keep trying to drag him back down.

“The fuck happened to you, bro?” Kang-Hun, or whatever his name was sighed. “You just, like… disappeared.” His pupils were huge, so dilated his eyes were almost entirely black. His face was slack, his mouth slightly drooping as he attempted to focus through the haze of drugs. “I changed,” Su-Bong said, pushing himself out from the booth. “Man, we used to have so much fun,” Kang-Hun laughed. “Hey, you remember that time we did coke off that stripper’s tits? Man, that was a sick night.” Su-Bong cringed as he remembered it, the flashback making him feel sick. He’d been a horrible person back then. “Have a drink with me,” Kang-Hun smiled, slapping him on the shoulder. He was swaying in place, the combination of booze and pills wreaking havoc on his balance. “I don’t drink anymore,” Su-Bong sighed. “Listen, I’ve got to go-“ “One drink, bro. that’s all I’m asking.” Kang-Hun held his hands out. “For old time’s sake.”

Against his better judgement, Su-Bong found himself at the bar. He ordered a diet coke, but the smell of his former friend’s whiskey burned in his throat, that niggling desire itching the base of his skull. He could almost taste the warm, bitter amber liquid. “So, you’re making new music now?” Kang-Hun asked, gripping the bar as he swayed in his seat. “So fucking cool, man. why don’t we talk anymore? I miss you.” He couldn’t find the words to respond, all his energy focused on not taking a sip of alcohol. His heart was hammering in his ears, the sound almost deafening. “You seemed stressed, bro,” Kang-Hun told him, rummaging for something in his pocket. “Hey, remember what you used to say? When the feels get real, just pop a pill.”

Su-Bong wished he could go back in time and punch the old him. He’d been a real fucking prick. Kang-Hun nudged him, showing him a tin of the pink pills he’d once loved so much. “Come on, man,” he smiled. “Just one, so you can chill out.” “No,” he spat through gritted teeth. He needed to leave, needed to get in his car and drive home to you. “You’ve gone soft,” Kand-Hun laughed. “Like a chick. You all in tune with your feelings now or some shit? Just take the fucking pill, man. Feelings ain’t worth fucking shit.”

Is this what Su-Bong had been like? A junkie with no regard for other people’s boundaries? He looked at his former friend, so high off his face he could barely keep his eyes opened and wondered if this is how people used to see him. He remembered how he used to numb himself, so he’d feel nothing. He didn’t feel pain, sadness, happiness or even pleasure. He spent years feeling nothing, but now he knew that feelings, no matter how uncomfortable, made you who you were.

Kang-Hun shook the tin of pills, wiggling his eyebrows. “What do you say?” He smirked. “I’d rather feel something, than nothing at all,” Su-Bong snapped. He stood up to go, before turning around. “It’s not too late. You can get help if you want it.” “I don’t need your fucking help,” his former friend spat. “Get fucked.”

Su-Bong headed out into the night, driving back to the sanctity of the apartment he shared with you. He burst through the door, pulling you in close. “I’m covered in paint,” you laughed, but you wrapped your arms around him anyway. You could tell something was wrong, could see the pain in his eyes. His clothes smelled like stale booze, and you wondered if maybe he’d relapsed. “Did you drink?” you asked him softly. “No,” he should his head, “I went to meet my dad, but he didn’t show. I waited in the bar for hours and I wanted a drink so badly. But I didn’t drink a drop, I swear.”

He was desperate to feel you, to feel all the emotions he’d spent so long blocking out. He made love to you on the paint-stained sheets in your kitchen, feeling every curve of your body, every inch of your soft skin. He lost himself in the pleasure he had so often blocked out, relishing the way he felt inside of you, the way his body felt against yours. Tonight had been a stark reminder of what could happen if he lost his way. He didn’t want to be like Kang-Hun, didn’t to become the person he’d once been.

He needed to face his past, to confront his dad and then block him from his life. He would never again allow himself to sink into the numbness that came with addiction. But in order to free himself, he needed to confront the man that had caused the need to block out all feelings in the first place.

His dad had bailed on him tonight, but Su-Bong wouldn’t allow him to do it again. He’d faced his past head on, and now it was time his dad did the same.

#squid game #squid game x reader #squid game 2 #squid game fanfic #squid game x you #squid game season 2 #choi su bong #choi su bong x reader #choi yoon x reader #thanos squid game #squid game thanos #thanos x reader

163 notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 1 year ago

Text

no more waiting

for @steddielovemonth day four prompt ‘love is being willing to wait for them’

a fix-it for these: steve pov | eddie pov

rated m | 1,094 words | cw: post breakup, implied sexual content | tags: getting back together, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining

🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶

Steve should’ve called him Tuesday when the news broke.

And then he should’ve called him Wednesday when he ran into Wayne at the store and he said Eddie was coming home for a bit.

By the time Thursday afternoon came around, he didn’t need to call him. He was standing at Steve’s front door.

“Eddie.”

“Steve.”

It was stilted, more awkward than they’d ever been, even when they “broke up.”

“You just get into town?” Steve asked as if he didn’t know.

“Yeah,” Eddie answered as if he didn’t already find out that Wayne had told Steve his exact travel plans.

“You wanna come in?” Steve asked like he’d die if Eddie said no.

“Yeah, please.” Eddie replied, just short of begging.

Eddie knew where to go, knew how to act like this was his home just like he had for nearly a year before leaving. Before Steve insisted he leave.

He settled on the couch, leaving room for Steve to sit close, but not touching.

Touching would be too much, too painful.

“You saw?” He finally asked, picking at the hole in his jeans.

“Yeah.” Steve reached over to pull Eddie’s fingers away from the string hanging off his pants. He didn’t let go as he spoke. “I’m proud of you.”

Eddie’s eyes bounced between his own, searching for the hint of a lie, jealousy, anything that might give him an excuse to stay away. But as he expected, as he hoped, none of that was in Steve’s eyes.

“It doesn’t mean shit to me,” Eddie admitted.

Steve’s brows furrowed in confusion, his body tensing at the unexpected hostility in Eddie’s tone.

“None of it means a fucking thing to me without you.”

“Eds-“

“I know what we said, I know. But I can’t do it anymore. The first person I wanted to call was you. The first thing I wanted to do was fuck you into the mattress of my bunk on the bus. There’s no world where I can be a rock star without you standing there with me.” Eddie looked down at their joined hands. “I don’t care what it means for me. I don’t care what it means for the band. I don’t care if I have to give it all up tomorrow. I just want you.”

"I won't let you give it up, not now. You finally made it, Eds," Steve pulled one hand away to wipe at his eyes, equal parts happy to hear that Eddie still wanted him and sad that he couldn't have him. "I can't let you live to regret me. I couldn't wake up one day knowing that you blame me for keeping you back."

"Then come with me! Don't keep me back!" Eddie was crying as much as Steve, eyes red like he'd already been crying before he got to Steve's house. "You're keeping yourself back. What are you gonna do when the kids go? They don't wanna stay here, so they'll spread out and you'll still be here. You'll have wasted years being here for them. What about being there for you? What about letting them be there for each other and calling them up once in a while like I do? Like Robin and Nancy do? You don't owe anyone here anything, especially not if it costs you your happiness."

Steve had heard it all before from everyone, even Dustin, even Hopper, but it never really sunk in. It wasn't really now, either, but he was at least trying to think through it.

It made sense, but it always had made sense. It's just that what made the most sense was being here for the people who needed him.

"Do you really think those kids would be upset if you tried to be happy? Do you think they would rather you stay here and be miserable?"

"No." That answer was easy. The kids would never want him to be miserable. Nobody in their group would.

"Then be happy, Stevie. Be happy with me. I'd do anything to keep you happy," Eddie begged, lifting his hands to kiss his knuckles. "I want you to do this with me. I wanna sing to you every night, sweetheart."

"What if you get tired of singing to me every night?"

Eddie shook his head, smiling fondly at the man in front of him. "I can't imagine a life where I'd ever get tired of seeing the way your cheeks turn pink and you get that goofy smile on your face when I look at you from the stage. But if it did, then you can come right back here or go to Robin or anyone, because everyone loves you and wants the best for you."

Steve knew that, always had known that deep down.

"So the guys are just cool with me tagging along?"

"The guys will be thrilled to not have me pouting 22 hours of the day. They'll welcome you with open arms."

Now was when they could seal it with a kiss, maybe even let themselves get carried away, strip off their clothes, hurry through months of yearning in a few minutes. They could take it to the bedroom, or the shower, or the floor if they wanted to risk a sore back. They could leave marks that would take days to fade, and laugh about the way Eddie always, always makes the same whimpering noise when he gets inside Steve. They could, but they don't.

Steve leans his head against Eddie's shoulder and Eddie cups the back of his head, lets his fingers twist in his hair. They both let out a sob, recognition of how much they missed each other, how stupid they were for thinking being apart was better for either of them, finally sinking in.

"I'm sorry." Steve breathed against Eddie's neck, shaky and unsure.

"I'm sorry, too."

They stayed curled up on the couch together for hours, until Dustin showed up yelling about Steve not answering his phone. They hadn't even heard it ring, so wrapped up in their own bubble.

Eddie shooed him away, told him they'd be by to see him later, and surprisingly, Dustin left.

Only then did they manage to get up and go to Steve's bedroom, undressing as they went, lips never far from skin, as they got reacquainted with the taste and feel of each other.

Later ended up being the next morning, but luckily, Dustin didn't say a damn word when they both showed up at his door holding hands and beaming more at each other than at him.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #drabble #post breakup #getting back together #angst with a happy ending #mutual pining

543 notes · View notes

eternitariant · 1 month ago

Text

Sketchy

cw//tw//~ knives, blood, bruising, biting, vvv subtle lowkey hints towards sub/dom dynamic, one brutal physical assault (he's very protective... what can i say)

You were walking to your next class when someone’s shoulder slammed into you and sent you flying back into the lockers-

“Ow, Jesus.” You muttered, moving your shoulder back and forth to ensure that you still could,

“Stay out of my way.” Debbie Marlston, your most common tormenter glared at you and you rolled your eyes before continuing towards the classroom.

You sat towards the back of the room and used the time to focus more on a personal project than pay attention to the teacher’s lesson, it wasn’t anything that you didn’t already know anyway. As you sketched out the next frame of your project, someone cleared their throat beside you to get your attention,

“What?” you snipped, not even bothering to look up at them because you knew who it was,

“See, that sparkling attitude is exactly why you have no friends…”

“Well what are you then huh? A charity worker?” you quipped and your best friend laughed,

“This is really coming along. I’ve never seen you so focused… or inspired.” She held one of your loose pages and inspected it, “Shits getting kinda dark though, don’t you think?”

She was holding a drawing of a scene where your protagonist was covered in her own blood after letting someone carve a confession into her skin- it was graphic but that was kind of the point,

“Not even close. Not yet.” You smiled and she laughed,

“Whatever, just don’t cut me up into tiny pieces when you finally lose it.”

After school, you made your way home by taking your usual route along the creek and you were silently plotting out the next chapters of your story when you were interrupted,

“Your arm.” He growled and you turned your head,

“Patrick, it’s nothing.”

“It’s not fucking nothing, tell me who.” He demanded, grabbing your waist to still your frame. His dark eyes were boring into your soul and you knew that you if didn’t tell him, he’d just take it out on everyone.

“Debbie.”

“Good Girl.” He praised and you swallowed before walking again, “Ah, hold on. You haven’t shown me the next part.”

You nodded and handed him your sketchbook. He flipped through it, his smirk growing into a full blown proud smile by the end,

“I like this part.” He announced lowly and you subtly smiled,

“Figured you might, you sick freak.”

“Which part do you want to recreate tonight then, princess?” he asked, slinging his arm around your shoulders,

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before… maybe you should come up with something inspiring, Trickster.” You teased and he raised an eyebrow,

“Challenge accepted.”

Patrick was trailing kisses all over your bare skin when he reached the bruise that he hadn’t made,

“No one ever gets to mark you but me, you understand?” it wasn’t really a question so much as a command and you just nodded slowly to express your compliance, “Good girl. Roll over.” He said, lifting your hips and helping you do as he had said. He pulled his pocket knife from his jeans and lightly skimmed the tip of the blade along your spine before he used his free hand to grip into your waist and where his thumb had left an impression, he made a cut. You hissed but you certainly didn’t dislike the feeling.

“Just mapping you out baby.” He whispered, kissing the opposite side before doing the same thing so that you would have symmetrical scars.

His breath fanned your neck before he sunk his teeth into your uninjured shoulder, breaking the skin and very lightly sucking as he released his bite,

“Ready for me yet, angel?” he asked and you only answered him with pleas, begging him to give you what you needed. He chuckled lowly at how desperate you’d become and how pliable you were for him. That was probably his favourite thing about you

“Dude! Did you hear?” your best friend bombarded you the second you set foot inside the school,

“Hear what?”

“Y/N, Debbie Marlston was attacked last night.” She blurted and you just stared at her blankly,

“How?”

“Her neighbour is Hilary’s cousin and he said that she was like in her backyard or whatever, having a smoke and then this guy came out of nowhere and cut her fingers off with those like giant hedge scissor things, isn’t that so insane?” she was shocked and kinda grossed out but she definitely wasn’t upset and neither were you…

“Do they know who did it?”

“Fucking clueless. Whoever it was, they did us all a favour if you ask me.”

Patrick naturally followed you home, as always and so as you were walking you asked

“Hedging shears… who’d you steal those from?”

He laughed, “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Not worried, just curious. They better not have come from my house, Hockstetter.” You warned,

“You don’t even have any hedges idiot.” He drawled before he cupped your face with a firm grip and his expression shifted drastically as his eyes narrowed at you, “Now, what did I say?”

“Not to worry about it.” You whispered meekly,

“There’s my girl.” He smiled, “What else do you say?”

“Thank you.” Your voice was still hushed but he nodded at you,

“That’s fucking right.”

#patrick hockstetter #patrick hockstetter x reader #patrick hockstetter imagine #bowers gang x reader #bowers gang #patrick hockstetter fic

96 notes · View notes

crayooongle · 7 months ago

Text

Sweet Mistake (1.9k)

akaashi keiji x (f)reader

cw: unprotected sex, (f)receiving, boob play, fingering, breeding, public sex (car sex)

pet names: princess, pretty girl, baby

summary:

you accidentally send your best friend, Akaashi, a frivolous photo you took in the shower while you were at work. He couldn’t be more grateful by your honest mistake.

Your mind was racing, you had about a million and one things to do before the week was over and not a single thing was completed. Work seemed like it had been piling up on you no matter how much you got done. You laid back in your office chair and slowly rubbed your temples with one hand before taking a sip of your coffee with the other. You were desperately trying to calm yourself down and brainstorm some ideas for your next work project.

You sat up straight as you heard what you thought might be your supervisor treading down the hall. Unluckily for you, you forgot about the hot espresso still in your hand. The sudden movement made some of the coffee shake out the cup and right onto your white button up.

“Shit,” you grumbled as you looked down at the damage. Great. Your new button up was completely ruined and you didn’t have another to change into.

You let out a frustrated sigh, snatching your phone off your desk. You opened up your messages to see who could come drive by and give you a quick ride home to get a new shirt in your time of need. You didn’t dare to drive to work due to the crazy traffic in the morning, alongside having to pay for parking every day. You figured taking the train was much cheaper despite taking longer— at least you can sleep on the train the way to work.

You: heyy kaashiii, you think you could do me a huge favor?

You prayed your friend would be quick to respond. I mean, today was his day off from his tedious job as an editor so theres no reason he wouldnt be able to help? You thought to yourself before your phone lit up with a new notification

Akaashi: of course, what’d you need?

You: well i have a bit of a problem and i’d really appreciate if you could come pick me up

[attachment: 1 image]

You thought you had snapped a picture of your shirt covered in coffee and sent it but it seemed like the lack of sleep had gotten to you.

Akaashi: Y/N… did you mean to send me that?

You opened the message with confusion written all over your face, you quickly looked back at the picture and realized it was a spicy photo you’d taken while in the shower the other day. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you drowned in embarrassment. You just couldnt believe you accidentally sent the most inappropriate picture in your camera roll to your friend. You let yourself sulk in shame and had completely forgotten about responding when your phone went off again.

Akaashi: doesnt matter, ill be there in 15

You had your location shared with Akaashi, he was well aware you were at work. You put your phone down and sunk into your flimsy work chair.

Akaashi had always been there for you, you two had been friends since high school. You always thought he was cute and sweet but never thought about making a move on him. You wanted to focus on work and didn’t want to ruin the strong friendship you two had. Of course, your mind would occasionally wander and you’d daydream of the moment that Akaashi would finally just push you against your bed and do whatever he wanted to get himself off with your body. But you had a feeling that day wasn’t gonna be coming any time soon —you naively thought.

You packed up some your things and sent a quick message to your boss, letting her know of the incident and that you’d come in later in the day to finish up your work. After, you tried your best to collect your thoughts and figure out what to you say when Akaashi arrived. You calmly made your way out the building and waited out in front, where you had assumed Akaashi would be waiting— you were right.

You tried not to make any sort of eye contact with him but you still peeked in the mirror of his car to make sure it was him. Oddly enough, you noticed his cheeks were flushed and his eyes laid low. Your eyes glanced down to notice a tent in his pants. You immediately looked away and felt your face getting hot as you awkwardly made your way to the back seat. As soon as you got in you could feel the thick tension in the air.

You cleared your throat in attempt to break the silence,

“Do you mind if i um…” you stuttered before starting over again, “do you have an extra shirt that i can put on until we get to my house,” you asked, while feeling another wave of embarrassment hit you. The coffee was seeping onto your chest through your shirt and the you hated the feeling of it sticking onto your bare skin.

“Yeah, i- uh,” akaashi quickly grabbed the shirt in the seat beside him and handed it to you, “here. I’ll pull up into a parking lot so no one sees you get changed”.

You couldn’t see but Akaashi’s bulge was only growing with every second that passed by. He was a bit grateful you didn’t sit next to him or else you would’ve really noticed how hard he was for you. Maybe it was a bit vulgar for him to think this but he was secretly celebrating your little mistake. He’d never admit this but Akaashi had a huge crush on you. He always looked up to how hardworking you were, you were his motivation to keep going.

Not to mention you were one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen. He always had to stop himself from blatantly checking you out when you’d go on friendly dates together. He always wanted to be respectful, but deep down he wanted nothing more than to rip all your clothes off and fuck you until you couldn’t remember anything but his name.

Akaashi pulled up into a nearby parking lot as promised. He tried to find a spot that was the least crowded, luckily today wasn’t a busy day for most people so the lot was pretty much empty.

You couldn’t shake off what you saw earlier, was Akaashi really acting like this because of picture you sent him? Maybe this was the time to test how he really felt about you. You cleared your throat to try and grab his attention. You looked up at the rear view mirror only for your eyes to meet Akaashi’s. You unbuttoned your shirt tauntingly slow while maintaining eye contact. Akaashi couldn’t help but let out a low “fuck”. It was still loud enough that you could hear the desperation in his voice.

“yknow kaashi, i had a super stressful day at work today,” your words came out smooth and sultry, it was just enough to drive him crazy.

Akaashi immediately unbuckled his seatbelt before opening his mouth to respond, “how about you let me take care of you and relieve some of that stress”. Before you could react Akaashi climbed to the backseat to join you.

He pulled you in for a kiss and without breaking it, grabed your waist to lead you onto his lap. Desperate for some sort of relief, Akaashi moved your hips down onto his clothed-throbbing dick. You let out a light moan in between the kiss and continued to grind onto him. Akaashi slowly moved one hand up your skirt while the other moved to your chest to lightly squeeze one of your beautiful tits. He traced his fingers against your— already wet pussy. You whine and roll your hips into his hands. Akaashi pulls away from the kiss to watch your face contort from this new found pleasure.

You try to close your eyes to avoid the intense eye contact but every time you do he completely takes his hands off you.

“Eyes on me baby,” he coos.

You begrudgingly obey his demands. You truly wanted nothing more than to take advantage of this moment, have him make you finish. He gives a faint smirk at your obedience and slides his fingers into your underwear. You let out a wince as he slowly pushes his fingers right into your aching pussy. He switches between fingering you and sliding his cold fingers against your clit, listening closely as to what evokes the most noise out of you. Your moans were so lewd and whiney, he couldn’t help but lightly palm himself through his pants.

He moves his hands out of your underwear just for a moment and you pout while staring at him.

“Take these off for me-?” He gives a slight tug on your panties before pulling away. You waste no time in peeling your soaking underwear off alongside your skirt.

“Thank you my pretty girl”.

You only have time to let out a soft “mhm” before Akaashi pulls you back into a kiss. He leads your hands to his pants, allowing you to get an idea of how big he is. He pants against your soft lips, the kiss was filled with nothing but passion, need and lust.

Akaashi lifts your hips up for a moment so he can move his jeans and boxers down just enough that his dick slips out. He positions himself right at your entrance, you slowly move down onto his thick cock. You gasp at how he's stretching you out, it’s simply too much. Despite that you love the feeling too much to ask him to stop.

Akaashi gives you a second to adjust before fully pulling you down onto his cock. You whine at the sensation and grab onto his strong shoulders for support. He starts off at a slow pace, he doesn’t wanna hurt you after all.

“Akaashi please,” you beg.

Thats all he needed to hear.

Akaashi gets a better grip at your hips before drilling right into you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to fuck you again. The way your soft walls are squeezing his dick has him in pure bliss. He lets out soft moans under his breath and continues to slam you repeatedly up and down against his needy cock.

“fuck- it feels so good Y/N,” he groans into your neck.

You just whimper and moan in response, the way he’s fucking you has you unable to form sentences.

“Youre doing so good at taking it princess,” he continues to praise in between moans.

“I needa cum soon kaashi” you breathlessly mumble. Your legs were shaking as you got closer and closer to your release. You were trying to hold back but he just kept fucking you right in your sweet spot, you couldn’t handle it.

“Yeah? You wanna cum right on my dick?” He asks while pushing himself even deeper inside your cunt.

“Yes please, I need to kaashi,” you blabber out.

Akaashi speeds up as he gets closer to his release. He leaves a trail of kissing on your neck and collar bone as he viciously pounds into you.

“ahhh ha shit- akaashi im gonna cum!” You cry out as your legs shake.

“Come’on cum for me my pretty girl”.

Almost immediately after, you cum all over Akaashi’s dick. He tries to hold back but feeling you throb against his dick makes him cum right inside your pussy.

You’re both a mess; sticky, sweaty and breathless. The car windows are completely fogged up now.

“Theres no way we just did that,” you mutter.

Akaashi flashes a smiles before going to pepper a few kisses on your neck and face.

“Round two?” He asked in between kisses.

273 notes · View notes

afriendlyblackhottie · 2 years ago

Text

Breakup to Make Up

Summary: Chris is tired of pretending he doesn’t want you.

Pairings: frat boy! Chris Evans x black!reader

Warnings: minors dni, smut, unprotected sex, arguing, make up sex

(A/N: long time no see 😭 this took me forever to finish, but we’re finally here! Maybe a little rushed at the end cuz I just really really wanted to post something. Anyway please like, follow, and reblog with comments. Thank you 💜✌🏾)

—————————————————

He wondered if you could feel him watching your every move. Eyes trailing up and down that body. Thinking about how it had been way too long since he’d seen it with nothing on. Three weeks to be exact. Fuck had you been mad at him.

He knows he shouldn’t have freaked out over your little friend or whatever but so what he was jealous. Yeah, yeah it made him a hypocrite or whatever but it’s not like you didn’t know about Britt.

And after that night it’s not like they’d been fucking around. Britt had ‘needed time to think.’ The two of them really only keeping up with appearances.

But he’d done it.

Finally.

Broke up with her.

Sure he knew the shit storm that would ensue was going to be not great. When her parents find out all hell would probably break loose. Her mother had big plans for them.

Ya know the whole big wedding. Where they move into a giant home in a suburb of Boston to be the perfect New England family. Chris was supposed to go off and be this guy that everyone was expecting him to be.

But what about what he wanted him to be. Maybe he didn’t want to think about what he was supposed to do. What about what he wanted to do.

Right now he wanted you.

Even if you were acting like couldn’t see him. It seemed like you’d been avoiding social settings. Which made sense, considering Britt’s sorority seemed to have it out for you even more than they did before.

It wasn’t like people hadn’t known about the argument over beer pong. Had been calling you trashy and shit. As if Britt wasn’t completely trying to egg you on. It’s just normally you wouldn’t have stood up for yourself as you usually tried to brush her off but then it was like how dare you not kiss the queen bee’s ass.

He was tired of dating a bully. It made him look like an ass too. Then you had the nerve to look so fucking sexy telling her off. Made him remember the moment he sunk into you. Chris didn’t even know sex could feel like that. Then he found himself envelopes in your warmth and now he couldn’t go back. So yeah sorry if you made him a little crazy.

Even still you’d done a great job at ignoring him. Had clearly blocked his number. Thought you were getting away from him. Clearly you didn’t know who you were fucking with because Chris had no intention of just letting you go and what giving someone else the chance to touch you? Over his dead body.

He’d been letting you play your little games and act like this but he was tired of it. He needed to get what was his. You were his.

Finally your eyes were connected. Though you tried to look away all quickly. And yet they still kept making their way to his. No way you were still mad at him.

Found himself chuckling when one of his frat brothers came up to you to start talking. Yeah fucking right. As if you’d show Preston any fucking attention.

So why the fuck were you giving him your number.

————

Ever since that day, Chris found himself more irritated than usual as he saw the way Preston had hung around you. Like a little fucking fly just buzzing around his favorite piece of dessert.

Grossed him the fuck out. Made him want to hit something. You had to be doing this on purpose, right? Was trying to get under his skin.

So what he couldn’t help himself. He needed to talk to you. “What, Chris?” You asked him all flat. Arms crossed. As if you were really sick of him.

“Cut the shit,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. Surprised you even answered the door of your dorm. Of course he saw you left and needed to make sure you were home and not who knows where with Preston of all people especially. Couldn’t stand the idea of that dweeb hanging around you. Around what was his. Even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. “What’s going on between you and Preston?” He asked.

You found yourself scoffing. “That is none of your business.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? It’s not? So you’re saying if I were to push you back into your room and take those cute little shorts down I’m not gonna find a wet pussy underneath it?”

Your eyes narrowed at this. He really had some damn nerve. Shrugged you answered, “Maybe. Just because you turn me on doesn’t mean I’m yours.”

Chris bit his tongue. Eyes trailing up down your body. Had you been waiting for someone. Seemed like you were dressed for a dick appointment.

“Chris, what’re you doin’ here?” Preston’s voice could be heard behind him and he immediately thought about turning around to punch him in the face. Instead his eyes connected with yours in a snarl.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Chris asked.

“Preston, what are you doing here?” You asked at the same time.

“Wanted to see if you had the notes from chem,” he said, looking between the two of you. “Remember.”

“Oh,” you shook your head. “Yeah just let me grab ‘em.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. So if you weren’t dressed like this for him then who were you dressed like this for. He followed you into your room, glancing behind you as he came to sit on your bed. Damn sure wasn’t leaving now that he was here. Not after seeing Preston here.

You took him the notes and Chris could hear you exchanging thank you’s before closing the door. “Who the hell do you think you are?” You snapped at him.

“No who the hell do you think you are?” He repeated. “What were you hoping something would happen with Preston of all fucking people?”

“I didn’t say that!” You exploded. “Why am I even explaining anything to you. Weren’t not together. You have a girlfriend!”

“I broke up with her!” He finally admitted.

Chris couldn’t hold it in anymore. Had hated that the two of you hadn’t been talking as is and now there it was. All out on the table. Shit.

Your jaw hung open at his confession. Chest thumping. “W-what?” You asked, unsure if you misheard him.

“I broke up with Britt,” he repeated. “After our fight, I don’t know,” he looked away from you not able to handle the way you were looking at him with those big eyes, “I guess I realized you were right. That it wasn’t fair.”

Crossing your arms in front of your chest, sitting down beside him. Not that you knew what to say. Sure you’d thought about this moment a fuck ton of times, but never thought it would actually happen. Men like Chris didn’t actually leave their girlfriends for their side chicks. Or that’s what you’d been telling yourself to get over it.

“Just figured why the hell do I keep wasting time with her when I-,” he cut himself off trying to even figure out what he was trying to say. Those words on the tip of his tongue but it wasn’t easy. “Then I come here and you’re dressed like this and here comes Preston I-,”

“Chris, it… I didn’t know he was coming by,” you went on to say. “Not that you’d have any right to be mad anyway.”

That made him look at you, head snapping in your direction. “Watch it, Y/N,” he said. “Just because we were fighting doesn’t mean you weren’t mine.”

“We weren’t fighting I broke up with you,” you said.

“No,” he said. “Sure I gave you your space, but you did not break up with me. And I better not find out that you’ve been with anyone sense.”

You glared at him. Crossing your arms as you looked away. Only for him to put his hand under your chin to make you look back at him. “I’m not your property.”

“I didn’t call you property. I would never call you that. You are my woman, though. And I better never find out that anyone else got to have you.” He got closer to whisper into your ear. Fuck you were finally so close to him. At least you were only in your dorm wearing a skimpy little thing like this. Actually… “Whats with what you’re wearing anyway.”

“Not that it’s any of your business-,” you started to say only for him to drop his hand to your neck to give you a warning squeeze.

“Everything you do is my business,” he corrected.

You rolled your eyes. “My roommates out with her boyfriend so I decided to have a nice romantic night in with myself,” you finished.

Which in his head all he heard you say was that you had the whole place to yourselves. No Preston to interrupt. Not you running off to some little study buddy either. He didn’t give a shit about your nasty attitude. Could fuck you through that. Would have you acting sweeter than a peach after he fucked it out of you.

“Anything else you need to know, Warden,” you said, trying to sound all snooty. He’d had it up to here with you, though. Yanking you into him so you’d lay across his lap. “Hey!”

“I’d watch how you talk to me if I were you. Sure my frat brothers probably know how much of a slut you are, but you want your neighbors to know too?”

“We ca- Chris!” You gasped as he cupped your ass. Putting his thumb in between your ass cheek to really get a grip on it. Yeah he’d never go that long without touching you like this ever again. See why he couldn’t help get jealous. He was fucking crazy about you. All of you.

“What was that?” He taunted, hand coming up so he could deliver a sharp slap to the globe of your ass cheek. Gasping again and hips jumping up. “That’s what I thought,” he said when he realized you weren’t talking back for once. “Gonna watch your fucking mouth now, huh?”

You didn’t say anything. Just laid with your head against the mattress. Almost like you were trying to hide from him.

Chris laid a smack on your ass before groping you. “Let’s get it clear, Sweetheart. You’re mine. Your pussy is mine. Your body is mine. Even your fucking heart is mine.” He grabbed you by your hair to pull your head up so he could bring your face up to his. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Chris, I-,” you whimpered, a stray tear falling. Hated how turned on you were.

He’d cut you off by grabbing your ass again, sharply. “Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?” He asked. Not giving a shit about what excuse you were ready to come up with.

You nodded, bottom lip trembling. Chris let out an irritated breath. All he wanted to do was love you right now. Kiss you. Show you how much he’d been missing you. Instead here you were playing little fucking games.

He put his hand against your jaw. Pulling you into his mouth. “What? You can’t speak?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. “You gotta problem?”

You shook your head but Chris could hear you sniffle. Ah shit. Instead of keeping it going he pulled you up. Pulling you into his lap.

“I th-though-thought you-you didn’t wa-want m-me,” you were sobbing into his shoulder. Except he couldn’t exactly understand you.

He wrapped his arms around you. Rocking you back and forth. “Shhh, Baby. Its okay. I got you. I’m sorry.” He said anyway. Whispering into your ear. Squeezing you so you had to get as close as possible to him.

“I thought you didn’t want me,” you repeated, much more clear this time. Tears still streaming down your face.

Chris furrowed his brow. Hating those words as soon as they left your mouth. “Never, Baby. I just didn’t know what to do. Wanted to have my cake and eat it, too.”

“What about you and Britt?” You asked with a sniffle.

“We’re done, Baby. I promise. There’s no one else,” he whispered in your ear, kissing behind your earlobe. “I’m all yours.”

You nodded, pulling away as your lip trembled. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he replied leaning in to press a plump kiss to your lips. Only meaning for it to be quick except he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Had been too fucking long since he’d tasted you.

Chris laid back, taking you with him. Lips moving against each other. Fuck he missed this. Hands going to your ass to squeeze you. Needing to feel you all over. Can’t believe he went this long.

“Chris,” you moaned against his mouth. Fucking music to his ears. He turned you over in your bed so he was on top. Making sure to get nice and situated between your thighs.

Pinning your hands down with his as he felt himself getting harder. Needed you fucking bad. That’s why he couldn’t help himself when he came over here. Had been sick of waiting for you to come to him. If he needed to chase you so be is.

His bicep curled around your thigh. Not able to stop himself from finally fucking doing it. If anything it shouldn’t have taken him this long. Couldn’t help it with his stubborn ass.

“Chris,” you whimpered as his lips began to trail your neck. Back arching so you pressed into him deeper. Tits getting squished against his chest. As bad as he wanted to stay like this, he wanted more. Pulling away so he could take his shirt off.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, before kissing you quickly. “You missed me, huh.”

You nodded, throwing your arms around him. Nails trailing along his muscular back making him shiver underneath your touch. “You know I did.”

He licked his lips, kissing your again. “I missed you, too,” he confessed. Not like he hadn’t spent most of last week in denial about it. If he hadn’t seen you talking to that asshole would he have even finally got his shit together. Probably not. The jealousy had eaten him up.

Especially since he’d been trying to give Britt the time she asked for. Didn’t want to be a complete and total dick. Too bad he wanted his girl. So now he finally had you right where he wanted you. Underneath him. Ready for a taste when-

“Y/N, have you seen my-,” a voice interrupted the two of you. Making you pull away quickly as your roommate stopped when she saw. “Shit! Sorry!” She backed out, closing the door behind her.

You pushed against him so you could get up. Chris groaned, realizing how fucking hard he was. Had been ready to claim you all over again and now you were getting up to go after her to ask what she wanted. Definitely embarrassed by the shy look on your face when you came back. “She forgot her card,” you mumbled when you sat back down on the bed.

“Oh,” he replied. “That’s okay. You okay?”

“Yeah I’m okay,” you replied, biting your lip.

Chris smiled. Not being able to help himself when he scooted you on his lap. Kissing your cheek. “You hungry? Want to get some food or we could hang out somewhere. Something.”

“Like, you wanna hang out in public?” You asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. No more keeping this behind closed doors, okay?”

With that you nodded too, a smile spreading on your lips. “Just let me get ready.”

“Of course, Baby.”

——————————————————-

You could really tell Chris had been trying to put in the effort. From making it clear that he was definitely your boyfriend. To you practically living in his room. Still though aside from making out the two of you hadn’t had sex and he’d been dying to take it back to that.

Seemed like every time he got close, someone would interrupt or the two of you would end up talking. Which was great, but fuck he doesn’t think his dick can live like this anymore. It was like constant blue balls 24/7.

Sometimes you’d have your ass all pressed up against him while you slept. Wondering if you could feel him under you. Had been wearing a pair of panties underneath the shirt he let you borrow. Which had risen up so his cock could be pressed up right against your soft skin.

He doesn’t think he’d been this horny since he first hit puberty. Not like you’d be mad at him if he slid in. If anything he knew you’d take it. You always took it. Except then you got your period and while he didn’t give a shit, you did and told him you didn’t want your first time again to be like that.

At least he got to be with you in public now. Didn’t care who saw him hold your hand. Kissed you wherever he felt like, whenever he wanted. And you and your best friend seemed happy dragging him and her boyfriend everywhere. Even out to lunch where you were sitting way to close to him. Feeling all over his thigh.

“Unless you’re trying to start something, I suggest you stop,” he said, into your ear.

“Maybe I am,” you whispered back to him before kissing his cheek.

“Oh well, isn’t this cute,” a familiar voice interrupted you, making your heads snap up.

Chris groaned as soon as he saw his ex standing there glaring down at them. Three of her little minions beside her. “Britt,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Cut the shit, Christopher,” she snapped. “Look, I played nice when I knew you were fucking her behind my back-,”

You interrupted his ex with a cackle. Not able to help yourself. “Was it really behind your back?” You tilted your head to the side. “Not like you weren’t there.”

“Wait, what?” Your roommate gasped, suddenly everyone turning to look at her.

“Tell ‘em, Britt,” you said with a shrug. “About how you dared me to fuck your boyfriend and saw that I did it better than you and I fucked him so good he saw that he didn’t need to put up with your shit anymore.”

It had been clear you’d been waiting to get some things off your chest to her. Not that Chris could blame you. Britt had no business messing with you before and now look.

Britt’s jaw dropped as her friends turned to her. “You did what?” One of them asked with a raised eyebrow, almost like she wanted to laugh. The one Chris had been telling her was not her friend of all people.

Chris looked over at you. Shocked by your reaction. He knew you didn’t like Britt, but he’d never seen you like this. It was kind of hot seeing you stick up for yourself. Laying claim to him.

“Chris! You’re just gonna let her talk to me like that?” She gasped, stomping her foot.

“It’s not like she’s lying,” he replied. You sat beside him with a smirk. Leaning over to kiss behind his ear. Kind of enjoying you like this. That’s when he put his hand on your thigh , squeezing it.

Britt stomped away. Her friends not too far behind. Then he found himself trying to rush so the two of you could get the fuck out of there and back to his bedroom. Was tired of waiting and shit.

“Chris!” You squealed as he picked you up, pushing your back into the wall.

“Looked so fucking hot,” he said, making you gasp as his lips had went to your neck, must have been trying to leave you a hickey with the way he was sucking on your neck. “Need you so bad.”

“I didn’t tell you, but I got off my period this morning,” you said, biting your lip.

“You weren’t going to tell me?” He asked.

You shrugged. “Wanted to see how long you could go?”

Chris smacked your ass. Leaving his hands there so he could spread your ass cheeks apart. Ready to give it to you like he’d been missing. Sure he could have made your first time together again special and it would be, but the candles and rose petals would have to wait for another time.

“Don’t ever do that shit again,” he said into to it ear. “You hear me?”

You nodded before smashing your lips to his. Hands feeling all over his muscles in his shoulders. Not able to help yourself. Wanting to be close to him. Couldn’t believe he was finally all yours. Hadn’t even realized you were in his room until he laid you down in his bed.

“Missed you, Baby,” he said, flipping over so you could be on top of him. Straddling him around his waist as his hands went back to your ass.

“I missed you, too,” you whimpered, grinding against him. Needing to feel the friction. Pussy getting wetter as you spoke. “Please,” you preened.

“What do you want, Baby?” He asked, helping you remove your top.

“I want you. Want you so bad,” you moaned, as his lips went to your chest. Nipping and sucking and biting. Making you gasp for him as you lowered yourself so you were right over his dick. The friction making your jaw drop open as you didn’t stop. “Fuck, fuck me. Please.”

“I should make you beg for it since you made me wait this long,” he said, putting his thumb against your crotch. Ready to take off your pants. Putting you on your back once again so he could do that. “I don’t even know if you can handle it.”

Not like you didn’t agree. How the hell were you going to take him. It had been too long since you did and while you’d spent plenty of nights thinking about it, you were almost scared to try. Maybe that’s why you’d been welcoming every distraction. Don’t know if you were ready to be split open again.

Though, right now you’re not really sure you had much of a choice. Not with the hunger in his eyes. You’d denied him for far too long.

He started kissing down your body. Bringing your legs up so that he could get situated between your thighs. Knew he finally had you right where he wanted you.

“Chris,” you cried, hands going to your hair as he started licking you up. Wanted to get you properly wet first. Had to so you could take him properly. He knew as soon as he slid in there was no way he was holding back.

He peeked up at you, watching your face screw all up before throwing your head back. Moaning his name and moving your hips. Chris put his hands on your thighs, holding you down. Had you right where he wanted you and he wasn’t about to let you fuck that up.

“You’re gonna make me-,” you stopped with a gasp, “Christopher!” You breathed. “Shit, Chris. Fuck. Chris!” Eyes rolling back as it finally happened, juices cascaded into his mouth. “Ugh!”

Seeing you like this, fuck he couldn’t wait anymore. Needed to be inside of you now. As he kissed up your body, he hoped to leave a few hickies in his wake. Getting to your lips and making sure his kiss was deep.

Pushing your legs apart with his knees as he got situated between you. Pinning your hands down with his as he used his hips to guide his dick towards your entrance. “Fuck!” You gasped as he pushed the tip in. Head going back into the pillow underneath. A furrow creasing in your brow as you looked down between you.

Chris put his hand under your chin so you had to move your face back up. Eyes locked into each other. Licking your lips as your words had been caught in your throat as he went in deeper. Almost not even wanting to give you time to adjust, but this was your first time in a long time.

Unlike the real first time, it was just the two of you. Sure that’s how things had ended up anyway after Britt realized he’d never been like that with her. He’d wanted to feel bad about it, but hell it’s not like she hadn’t put him in that position in the first place. Literally. If she hadn’t been bugging you, you wouldn’t have ended up under him. Taking him in a way she never did.

Sure he tried to hold on for old times sake, but after he found out how she’d been it was hard for him to look past it. What did he look like dating a fucking bully. If anything he kind of owed you for all the shit you put up with. Not that you clearly had any problem with fighting back. Fuck that shit was so sexy.

Chris kissed your neck, listening to you moan as he thrusted his hips. Fuck you felt better than he remembered. Not like those same thoughts weren’t crossing your mind. Couldn’t believe you were like this after that time apart.

Had been so sure you could move on and you wanted to. Really did. Except he kept creeping into your head. Thinking about him like this. The way he fucked you like he owned your pussy and to be honest, he did. Even when you were broken up.

At this point everything between you had been an open secret in your frat. Hell, even when you tried to flirt with Preston he laughed and said he didn’t want to get punched for fucking around with you.

Didn’t even want to try being with someone else. How could you when you were pretty sure no other man could fuck you like this. He’d officially ruined you.

“Harder,” you whined into his ear, clawing at his back. Had been trying to be close to you, but fuck it. He missed you for a reason. The nice and tender shit was cute, but it had been too goddamn long.

Chris flipped you over to grab you by your hips. Making sure your ass was in the air right where he wanted it. You braced yourself as you felt him guide into you again. Squeezing your eyes shut as he bottomed out. Body trembling as you forced yourself to take his dick. “Fuck!” You sobbed into the sheets.

He rolled his hips just now he knew you liked. Exactly how he’d been thinking about. Looking down to see the way you’d started to cream around him.

Trying to give you exactly what you asked for. “You’re- you’re gonna- you’re- I’m gonna fucking cum, Chris!” You looked back at him. One of your hands going to your breasts as you played with your nipples. The extra stimulation making you clench around him.

“That’s my fucking girl,” he groaned, slapping your ass. “Fucking cum for me. I want everyone in the house to hear that we’re back together. Cum for me. Want you to scream my name.”

“Chris!” You sobbed just like he wanted you to, ass shaking as you did as you were told. There’s his fucking girl. Fuck he missed you.

Lowering yourself as it became harder for you to hold yourself up. Only for him to go with you. Covering your body with his as he didn’t stop rocking into you.

Coming up to wrap a bicep around your neck. His other arm wrapping around you. Couldn’t stop himself as he manhandled you.

“Feel so fucking good,” he whispered in your ear. Nose pressed up against the side of your face.

“Chris, I- ugh you’re gonna make me cum again!” You mewled. “Fuck I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered back, half wanting to stop to turn you over but not wanting to stop because he wanted to cum. He’s not really sure he had much of a choice anyway. Hips starting to stutter along.

You were just so fucking tight around him. Especially when you were ready to cum. “Fuuuuuuck, Baby,” he groaned. “Feel so fucking- you’re gonna make me- fuck!” He groaned as he did it. Unloading inside of you. Not giving a fuck about protection or anything. Not like he ever did.

Sure the two of you should be more careful, but he can’t bring himself to actually care too. Would it be the worst thing in the world if you were stuck with him? Not for him at least. You were his for the the rest of his life as far as he was concerned.

Chris didn’t move an inch to get off of you. Trying to not put all his weight on you, but at the same time he could melt. Can’t believe it’d taken him so long to get back here.

All while you clung to him. Almost like you were afraid he’d float away. As if he’d go anywhere. Chris didn’t even want to move a muscle until he rolled over so he could pull you into him.

“I love you, Baby,” he whispered, into your hair. Ready to fall asleep as you whispered back to him. Half asleep and drunk on love. Knowing the two of you were finally right where you were supposed to be. Together.

#fics by AFBH #Chris Evans smut #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #Chris Evans x black!reader

1K notes · View notes

jasmines-library · 1 year ago

Note

hi!

So I was thinking that their little sister is lesbian (if you're comfortable with this kind of stuff though) but she doesn't know. So she's 15 and one day a guy tries to flirt with her in a dinner, but she's just staring in complete fascination at a cute girl behind her. And after the guy goes away Dean calls her out. After she kind of goes on a date with the girl and some homophobic dude comes walking past whilst they're kissing and says some pretty mean stuff. And when her brothers find out they comfort her.

Thank you so much and I wish you a very good day and happy new year!

Unconditional

Note: I literally love this request as a gay girly myself. This was super cute to write!

Warnings: Homophobia but Sam and Dean to the rescue, homophobic slurs and swearing. Please read with warning that this is fairly heavy and may be triggering although I have tried to keep it non-explicit...but it's also a little cheesy too..

Word Count: 1.6k

⛤ SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST ⛤

You knew that the guy beside you was trying to talk to you. His low voice but through the chatter as he leaned on the coffee-stained counter beside you, just a tad too close for your liking. He had sauntered over and was trying to drop compliments, but you didn’t really hear anything he was saying. You were completely fixated on the girl sitting in a booth across the room. She was with her two friends but you couldn’t take your eyes off of her and the way she smiled with not only her rosy lips but also with her eyes. You admired the lilt of her voice as she spoke with a grin and the way her hair, which was tucked neatly behind her ears to show off her face, cascaded over her shoulders. She was beautiful and you were in awe. Then, her gaze shifted away from you and her eyes met yours. Before you could turn away quickly, she blushed and gave you a small smile to hold your gaze.

“So, what do you say?” The boy asked you expectantly, though you were still too entranced to take a notice.

Dean cleared his throat and nudged you from under the table with his knee. “Y/N?”

You tore your gaze away from the girl and snapped towards your brother who indicated to the boy with his head.

“Sorry- What?”

“I said, ‘Did you maybe want to go out sometime?’”

You felt awful, because you had every intention of answering the guy to send him away, but you found your attention shifting towards the girl across the diner again.

“Sorry, pal.” Sam told the guy, “I don’t think she’s very interested.”

The boy nodded and left, slightly deflated that his attempts had failed.

“What the hell was all that about, kid?” Sam furrowed his brow. “What’s got you so distracted?”

Dean, who was sitting opposite you, craned his head to follow your eyeline, where he spotted the girl you had been fascinated by. He turned to you with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I think I’ve got her all figured out, Sammy.” He pointed to the girl. “She is so checking that girl out.”

“What?! Am not.”

“Are too. I know that look when I see it.”

You huffed and sunk down in your chair.

It was then that her and her friends shuffled out of the booth and made their way towards the door. As they passed you and your brothers she smiled at you shyly. You watched as she pushed open the door and the bell chimed signalling that she had left, but you continued to watch her in awe through the window.

“Are you just gonna sit there and stare?” Sammy raised an eyebrow.

“Huh?”

“Go get her number.” Dean urged, ushering you out of the booth. Your cheeks flushed as you chased quickly after her.

The sunlight hit your face as soon as you stepped out of the diner and you made your way slowly over to her. She smiled brightly as she saw you approaching and excused herself away from her friends for a moment.

“Hi” She greeted, “I was wondering if you were going to come and speak to me.”

“Hey.” You smiled “I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to finally put a name to your pretty face.” She said before giving you her name.

“So um…” You swallowed thickly trying to conjure up the courage to ask her for her number. This was something you had never done before… sure, you had never really shown much interest in guys, and you knew that every time you glanced at one of the women on the front of one of your brothers magazines, or spotted a pretty girl walking down the street you couldn’t help but feel that something was different, but you were never able to place it until now. You had thought it was because you never had time to spend hanging out with people outside of hunting, but now that Dean had pointed it out, you knew that he was onto something. You couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach that you felt when you looked at the girl before you, and back in the diner you had been so desperate to talk to her that you found your thoughts drifting to what it would be like, however now it was actually happening it was like your mind was betraying you because you couldn’t think of anything to say as your body froze. You took a deep breath and cleared your mind. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?”

She looked at you with a look of pure happiness that made you melt. “I would love to.”

The two of you sat inside the diner again a few days later. The two of you had been texting back and forth constantly after exchanging numbers and you couldn’t contain your excitement. You had taken her to the cinema across town before you two made you way to the diner. She looked even more beautiful than the time you had first seen her as she sat across from you, sipping her milkshake which you had purchased for her with Dean’s plagiarised credit card. The two of you spent hours talking to each other and laughing at the other's jokes and you barely noticed the sun setting and the busy diner thinning out, she had even reached out to grab your hand from across the table which she kept there until her it was eventually time to leave.

You walked her back to her house, slightly disheartened when you finally reached it and the pair of you paused just in front of it.

Reaching out, she tucked a loose piece of your hair behind your ear. The closeness made your stomach flutter and you blushed. Suddenly her rosy lips were on yours. You leaned into the kiss, kissing her back with the same keen gentleness that she had initiated it with. When she finally pulled away, the kiss leaving you breathless, the two of you let out a small chuckle only to have the moment ruined by a passer by who glared at the two of you in disgust before rolling his eyes.

“Great, just what this town needs. More dykes.” His words cut deep and your heart sank as they crushed everything you had been working to accept was okay about yourself. The longer you looked at him, the more you recognised him. It was the boy from the diner. The one that had tried to ask you out but you ignored. It seemed he also seemed to recognise you too.

“You’re the girl from the diner.” He started shaking his head. “No wonder you weren’t interested you fucking freak.”

“Excuse you?” your date asked, clenching her fists and taking a step forward.

“I said you’re disgusting.” He spat. “That shouldn’t even be allowed.”

“Listen here-” She took another step forward, but you put out a hand to stop her. The last thing the two of you needed now was for this to become a fight.

“Don’t. Just leave it.”

She stepped back and with one last huff the boy left with his head held high.

“I’m sorry-”

“It’s not your fault.” She said as you looked at your shoes.

“I know… but I can’t help but feel responsible.”

“Well you shouldn’t.” She told you, cupping your face and cutting off any more of your protesting with another kiss to your lips before turning up the steps to her house. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Sam and Dean were still awake when you shuffled in through the door, trying to poorly plaster a smile on your face. Of course they were, they wouldn’t sleep until they knew you were safely in bed at the motel. Sam was typing away on his laptop at the table while Dean had sprawled himself out on the bed with a box of pizza and was watching shitty tv.

“There she is!” Dean said when he saw you in the doorway. “How was it?”

You shrugged, trying to keep up a happy facade. “It was good.”

“What’s the matter, kiddo?” Sam frowned as he shut his laptop and crossed the room to sit on the bed.

“Nothing.”

“Y/N.”

“I told you. It’s nothing.”

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Did things not work out between the two of you?” Dean asked.

“No. No. It’s not that.”

“Then what?” your eldest brother pressed.

“Someone said something.” You admitted, eyes finally brimming with tears that you had tried so desperately hard to keep from escaping. The boys words had made you feel so... wrong. “The boy from the diner. Called us names. Said we were ‘freaks’”

“He what?” Dean clenched his fists, but Sam shut him down with one look as you began to cry.

“Oh kid” Sam said, pulling you close to his chest. “You’re not a freak. Don’t listen to him.”

“But I am, Sammy.”

“No.” Dean shut you down quickly. “Don’t say that Y/N. You are perfect just the way you are.”

Sam agreed. “Exactly. Who cares what that guy thinks, Y/N?”

“Me?” you sniffled “I don’t want people to treat me differently-”

“We’re not gonna treat you differently. You think we’d really do that, Kid? We’re your brothers.” Sam asked gently.

“Exactly. You don’t see us treating Charlie any differently, do you?”

“No.” you moved your head away from Sam’s shirt which was now covered in your tears to see Dean moving closer to you.

“We love you unconditionally, sweetheart.” He said and he wrapped you up in his arms, placing his chin atop your head. “Nothing you could tell us is ever going to change that. Nothing.”

242 notes · View notes

chrisevansonly · 1 year ago

Text

Took Long Enough

ʚ oscar piastri x female reader (friends to lovers?)

ʚ years of pining after one another, will someone finally make a move?

ʚ slight angst, jealous oscar, miscommunication but lots of fluff too

ʚ this was my first oscar request! i changed it up a tiny bit so i hope that’s okay! thank you for 1,997 followers! as usual my request are open!

If there was a way to describe Oscar in this moment it would be a pain in your ass; really he was quite literally proving to be a thorn in your bottom as they two of you enjoyed another saturday out with friends. You don’t remember ever not having a crush on him, from primary years to now, you two have always been attached at the hip.

Though there was one thing you were certain of and it was that Oscar definitely didn’t harbour the same heart pumping feelings you had for him. There was absolutely no way…

or was there?

Oscar was fuming from where he sat at the bar, simply picking drinks up for the two of you, he looked away for a split second and in that short time, a man had taken his spot, and enticed those sweet sounding laughs out of you. The laughs he wanted to reserve for his ears, and his only. He couldn’t fault you, he’d never told you of his feelings, so in retrospect he only had himself to blame.

“You’re in my seat.”

Hearing the tone of voice Oscar used, your eyes immediately locked onto his

“So?”

The man stated, Oscar smirked, and it wasn’t a smirk you enjoyed

“So get the fuck out, before I make you.”

“Okay, whoa it’s totally fine!”

You smiled apologetically at the man beside you, already forgetting his name before patting his shoulder

“It was nice chatting, but you should go”

“Whatever.”

Watching him walk away you shook your head, standing up so you could be almost level with Oscar

“What the hell is your problem!”

“Him. He was my problem, I leave for two seconds and you entertain him like we didn’t come together!”

Your eyes widened

“Excuse me? If I remember correctly, we are here with friends and i’m not your girlfriend. I don’t need you going all knight in shining armour!”

Oscar went to speak but you held a finger up

“Not to mention, girls throw themselves at you all the time and I don’t get all jealous and possessive! How is this any fair to me, you get to date but I don’t?”

You watched as your words sunk in, his shoulders deflating slightly as you crossed your arms

“I-You’re right, i’m sorry…”

Oscar genuinely felt bad, he never intended to make you feel this way, but watching you talk to someone else, the thought about anyone else having you to themselves and not him drove him crazy, and he was tired of waiting

“I don’t understand what’s been going on with you lately but figure it out.”

Turning on your heels you walked away for him, only to feel his hand grab you gently, halting your movements

“I like you okay…? Jesus-I fuck this is harder than I thought”

“What?”

Your voice was hushed, if he wasn’t giving you his entire attention, he wouldn’t have heard it

“I like you y/n, I um I have for a while..and I know i’ve been shit at showing it and haven’t been treating you fairly but I can’t stand to watch someone else take a place that should only be mine…”

Time was suddenly moving slow, your brain not being able to comprehend the words Oscar was saying to you, and he was getting nervous the more you left him in silence

“You-wait, you like me..?”

He nodded

“More than you’ll ever know.”

Oscar would be lying if he said he wasn’t shitting himself, but those worries soon melted when you stepped forward to press your lips to his, arms wrapping around his neck to hold him to you, the music from the club becoming a distant blur, it was just you and him.

There was no better feeling than this right here, being in the arms of the man you’d loved since you were both clumsy kids running around on the playground

“I’ve been waiting forever to hear those words”

Oscar smiled, his hand cupping your cheek

“I’ve been waiting forever to say them.”

a/n i feel like my writing keeps getting worse, im sorry 😭

454 notes · View notes

sellasstories · 2 years ago

Text

HATE THE PLAYER, NOT THE GAME

word count: 2.1k

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

⚠️warnings⚠️

explicit smut, explicit language

prompts:

mid fight and caitlin just grabs your face and kisses you with all the passion in the world

“we really shouldn’t” “tell me to stop and i will”

caitlin doing the gay ass knee thing to you

you and caitlin being rivals and also exes but you’ll still hook up time to time (usually it’s just wild hate sex after games) but during this certain game you’re both just one upping the other and it reaches a point where she comes up to your ear and mumbles, “keep it up, you’ll need that energy for later as well”

caitlin pulling you in by your waist and moaning in your mouth while making out

Playing for Maryland, you first knew Caitlin Clark as “that bitch from Iowa” who talked a lot of shit but dropped 30 a game to back it up. Admittedly, you didn’t believe it at the start. Sure, you’d seen video and scouting reports, but she was a freshman like you, so you figured it had to be some extended beginners’ luck.

That was until you played her for the first time and she got a 34-point triple-double, your impressive 22 point double-double (the first of your career, and of course you got the same number of points as her number) paling in comparison. Through it all, she didn’t even seem to break a sweat, and bantered back at you with as much fire as you gave her, which made you more upset than the final score did. It was at that moment that you decided that you hated Caitlin Clark.

You figured that would probably be as much as your relationship would develop, and it stayed that way until halfway through sophomore year when she cornered you in an empty hallway after a game and kissed you within an inch of your life (you didn’t want to think about why you kissed back so eagerly). After that, you figured that you guys probably had some stuff to talk about, so you messaged her on Instagram and got coffee.

This lead to a 10-month-long relationship, but you had to end it when the long distance became too much. You were both jealous by nature, and the separation was only making it worse.

Your first game against Caitlin after the breakup was intense, both of you playing like you had something to prove. After the game ended, you’d tried to be civil and left the gym together, but it had turned into another argument. You were practically screaming at each other in yet another empty hallway when Caitlin had grabbed your face and kissed you as passionately as she ever had, pinning you against the wall with a knee in between your legs.

You’d pulled away. “We can’t do this again, Caitlin,” you’d protested weakly, already grinding down on her knee.

Caitlin had laughed at you as she’d started to kiss your neck. “Tell me to stop right now, and I will,” she’d offered with a smirk. “But this could be good for us. It doesn’t have to mean anything, it can just be sex.”

You were ashamed to admit that that was all the convincing that it took for you to give in, riding Caitlin’s thigh to an orgasm as she swallowed your moans. You’d dragged her out to your car to make her cum on your tongue and she’d left immediately after, but it had set a precedent. Against your better judgment, you now often found yourself sneaking away with her after games to have what was undeniably good sex.

This game, however, had you vowing to break that pattern. You were seething as Caitlin drew yet another foul on a shot that she never would’ve made, winking at you as she easily sunk the two free throws. To make matters worse, you had picked up a stupid technical foul because of her. There was not a thing in the world that could convince you to have sex with Caitlin Clark after this.

The next time that you had the ball, you resolved to humiliate her. Faking a pass, you buried a step-back three right over Caitlin. You smiled sweetly at her as you ran back on defence. Your smile faded as she hit a three in transition from even farther back than you’d been. On the next possession, you made a tough layup and the foul shot as well. Seemingly unbothered, Caitlin replied by breaking away from a double-team to hit another perfect three.

You were both relentless, matching each other point for point. No one other than you and Caitlin had scored in second quarter, and you were both on 12-point scoring runs. The play was moving fast and you were both clearly getting tired, so you were thankful when a timeout was finally called.

As Caitlin walked by you on the way to her bench, she pressed her lips almost to your ear. “Be careful, you need to save some of that energy for later,” she whispered, throwing a heated look over her shoulder.

You hoped that there were miraculously no cameras on you, because you could feel your body betraying you by blushing furiously. Obviously, you knew that you and Caitlin were currently the talk of the game, so you prayed that the announcers would dismiss it as more banter.

Your team had possession out of the timeout, and of course the ball went to you. Driving to the hoop, you reached to make the layup and slammed into Caitlin, who had somehow gotten there before you. The whistle blew as you fell to the ground, both of you thinking that the foul was on the other person.

You locked eyes as you were both pulled up by your teammates, waiting on the call. Your mouth opened in shock as it was announced that Caitlin had gotten an FF2, resulting in an immediate ejection from the game. She stormed over to the refs, hands already in the air, and had to be pulled away by her coaches.

“Bye!” You waved at her as she left, and blew a few kisses for good measure. Hearing the whistle again, you turned in shock to see them call an unsportsmanlike technical foul on you. It was your second, meaning that you had to leave as well.

Giving the refs a death glare, you stormed out after Caitlin. When you got out of the gym, you saw her back disappearing into her team’s locker room. You threw open the door to find her sitting on one of the benches with her head down, breathing hard.

“I’m actually going to kill you,” you threatened, almost believing it yourself.

Caitlin slowly looked up at you, clenching her jaw. “Oh, you’re going to kill me?” she said through gritted teeth, standing up. “That was a charge and you know it! Thanks to you, I just got ejected from a game for the first time ever!”

You took a step closer to her. “Oh, relax! You still got 31 points! You and your fucking ego!” Your voice was getting louder as the argument escalated. “You didn’t need to talk back to the ref and piss him off, but you just had to have the last word, didn’t you?”

Caitlin didn’t even flinch. “My ego, really? I think you mean my pride. Of course I’m going to argue a call when it’s as obviously wrong as that one!” She stopped to take a breath, running her tongue over her lips, and it snapped whatever restraint you had.

Not feeling entirely in control of your own body, you roughly grabbed the back of her head, pulling her in for a bruising kiss. You used Caitlin’s gasp of surprise as an opportunity to slip your tongue into her mouth. She moaned loudly and pulled you closer, her hands wrapping around your waist.

You leaned into the kiss, making her back up until she hit the wall. “Lift your arms,” you murmured onto her lips. She complied, allowing you to pull her jersey over her head. You quickly discarded your own jersey and pinned her arms above her head as you kissed her again, shoving a knee between her legs.

You tugged on her bottom lip with your teeth, smiling in satisfaction as her back arched, further pressing your bodies together.

“Need… you,” Caitlin panted. “Take off your shorts.” You needed her as well, but were too pissed to admit it.

“Are we doing this?” You tried to sound exasperated, but couldn’t keep the eagerness out of your voice as you did as she said.

“Yes,” Caitlin rolled her eyes. “I know you love this as much as I do,” she breathed into your ear, holding eye contact as she took off her bra.

You kissed down her body, stopping to tease her nipples with your tongue. When you got to her stomach, you pulled her shorts off. Her panties were visibly soaked, and you couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or arousal. Deciding that you didn’t care, you pulled them off and plunged two fingers into her cunt.

Caitlin moaned loudly, throwing her head back. You continued to move your fingers inside her as you lowered your mouth to her clit. At the first lick of your tongue, Caitlin grabbed your braid and pulled your mouth away.

“I wanna fuck you,” she whined, looking into your eyes.

“Here?” you asked. Your chin was still tilted up to look at her by her grip on your hair. Not breaking eye contact, you slowly slid your fingers out of her pussy and took your time licking them clean.

Caitlin finally let go of your hair. “Just come here,” she mumbled. She laid down on a bench in the middle of the room, leaving her legs spread wide.

You stripped off your bra and panties, scrambling to climb on top of her and straddle her leg. You kissed her hungrily, gasping as she reached up to fondle your tits. You bit Caitlin’s lip almost hard enough to draw blood, and her hips bucked in a way that perfectly stimulated your clit.

You rolled your hips, sliding against her. Caitlin desperately thrust her hips up to match your pace, both of you panting and moaning into each other’s mouths. Once you found your rhythm, you captured Caitlin’s mouth with your own again.

As much as she aggravated you, you had to admit that you couldn’t get enough of her. Her lips were addicting, and the feeling of her clit rubbing against yours was heavenly. Caitlin’s hands ran down your back, and you wondered if there were going to be scratch marks later.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m so close,” moaned Caitlin, her grip on your waist tightening.

Her voice sounded ruined, and it did something to you. “Me too,” you gasped, biting your lip to stifle your own moans. You sat up to get a better angle and looked down to see Caitlin watching you intently. The weight of her gaze made your heart beat wildly.

“You look so pretty riding me like that,” she said huskily. Hating that she knew exactly what got to you, you couldn’t stop your orgasm from hitting. Planting your hands on Caitlin’s stomach, you threw your head back as pleasure coursed through your body.

The sight of you falling apart was enough to send Caitlin over the edge, her breath stuttering as she came. Keeping her hands on your waist, she guided your bodies through your orgasms. You collapsed onto Caitlin and laid there for a minute, unable to move. Neither of you said anything, your chests rising and falling in unison.

When you trusted your legs enough to stand, you gingerly climbed off of Caitlin and got some wet paper towels. You cleaned each other up the best that you could and put your clothes back on.

You sat down on a bench as Caitlin went to the mirror to fix her hair, and silence filled the room again. “That was… intense,” you began, not really sure what to say.

“Yeah, it was,” she turned to you. “Maybe getting ejected wasn’t the worst thing. You should probably fix your hair, too,” she suggested, turning away again.

You stood up with a groan, knowing that she was right. “Oh my god,” you smirked at her through the mirror, adjusting your ponytail. “You’re going to be all over the news tomorrow!” You gave up on fixing the braid, deciding to put your hair into a low bun.

“So are you,” retorted Caitlin. “How is that funny?”

“No one cares about me, I’m not the Caitlin Clark,” you said with an air of superiority. “This has been fun, but I’m off to have a normal night, which is a privilege that you won’t get!”

You blew her a kiss as you walked backwards towards the locker room door. Before you could pull, it was thrown open from the other side and Iowa players started streaming in.

“What are you doing here?” asked Caitlin’s teammate, Gabbie, her tone hostile.

“I was just leaving,” you said sweetly. “Me and Caitlin were just… talking.” You paused to accentuate your point, winking at Gabbie.

Caitlin had overheard the whole conversation. “Fuck you!” she said, sounding genuinely irritated as she shoved you out the door.

“Any time,” you tossed over your shoulder on your way to your team’s locker room.

#cait my love #hate the player not the game #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader

631 notes · View notes

polyklok · 1 year ago

Text

Thank you @hopedope for sending me this lovely request in a very nice manner! I’m sorry it took me like damn near a year to get it done 😅

Doing Pickles’ Makeup

“C’mon, pleeeeaaassseeee?”

Pickles raised his eyes to you, slightly amused by your begging and more-than-slightly annoyed by your persistence. It was impressive, though. You had caught him at a particularly vulnerable moment of looking through naked lady fan mail and he was in a good mood. With your hard work and determination, you whittled down his several ‘No’s to a ‘Maybe’ and now, finally, a-

“I’ll think aboot it.”

“What’s there to think about? Just lemme take a crack at it!”

You had found an old magazine, of which Snakes ‘N Barrels headlined on. From that, a pretty close-up of Pickles’ glamor days, in which he was smothered in smokey purple eyeshadow and cherry red lipgloss. He doesn’t even know why that magazine was in Mordhaus in the first place. You somehow got it in your head that you needed to see an updated version of his dolled-up look.

He shuffled through a few more letters, no longer taking the time to admire the detailed shots of many-a titties. You leaned forward even more, keeping an eager stare. Damn your puppy-dog eyes.

“Fine. But I’m nat keepin’ it on all damn day.”

A mischievous grin spread across your face. He hated how adorable your evil ass could be.

At the very least, it was relaxing. He insisted the two of you had taken the activity to his room, he did not need anymore comments from his bandmates about how gay his makeup was. You straddled him on his bed, dipping the brush onto the makeup pallet by his head and spreading it across his closed eyelids. He shivered every time your warm breath puffed against his now-highlighted cheeks, fingers gripping harder onto your thighs he was allowed to hold as an added bonus for his troubles.

“M’gonna add shimmer,” You muttered, more so to yourself than him.

“No. Anything but the sparkles.” He said in a flat tone, mocking his earlier reluctance. Although he couldn’t see it, he swore he heard your lips spread into another smile. Maybe he’d let you do his makeup again if it made you this happy. Maybe.

His eyes felt heavier and heavier every time that brush glided against them again. He couldn’t tell if you were adding an ungodly amount of product or if he was just getting sleepy from it. His head sunk deeper into the mattress. He can’t remember why he was so reluctant in the first place. Having you on top of him while he got to practically nap rocked.

“Open your eyes,” You said, softly, ruining the comfortable moment.

“Don’t wanna,” He replied, just as soft.

“Pickles.” Oh shit. He knew not to defy that kind of tone. His eyes immediately shot open, wincing slightly at the sudden light flooding his vision. While you shuffled through your makeup bag, he admired the point of view he had, letting his hands linger up to your waist.

“Here.” You brought out a recognizable tube. Pickles grimaced. Even way back then, this was by far his least part of the process. You popped the mascara out and leaned in even closer than before, placing those little bristles right in his eye line.

“Blink.”

He did so and immediately regretted it. It was so weird to have his eyelashes, a teensy body part he hardly ever noticed on himself, to suddenly be covered in thick goop. But he didn’t fight it, blinking thrice for each eye and pushing down the strong urge to rub it all out. You blew gently on his new lashes, drying them into a thick, heavy fan.

“Yuck,” He mumbled, trying not to let you hear. If you did, you ignored it, simply assuring him that you were almost done.

“You want red, pink, or black lips?” You asked, shimmying down his legs so he could sit up properly.

“Dealer’s choice. I trust ya.”

You chose the black, which was really more of a super dark blue with a pearly sheen. He rested his jaw in your hand, holding his mouth limp to give you the perfect canvas to spread the lipstick on. Just as you were finishing his bottom lip, savoring the intimate moment-

“PICKLES! Toki and Skw-Woah. What the hell?” Nathan kicked open the door, apparently needing to tell Pickles some absolutely essential information, only to find you sitting in his lap and applying fucking makeup to him.

“Jesus fuckin- Nate’n, I told you to start fackin knockin, man!” Pickles turned his head so violently, the black smeared across his cheek in an ugly streak. You frowned, there goes your hard work.

“Pickles is getting his fucking makeup done!” Nathan yelled down the hall.

“Scheriously?!”

“Ha! Dat ams so gay!”

The rest of his bandmates could be heard not too far away. Pickles groaned, “Get the HELL outta here, dood!” He grabbed an empty beer bottle from his nightstand and flung it at the doorframe, shattering it.

“What’re you trying to relive the nineties or something? Gonna go back to your old band?” Nathan was clearly digging into his irritations, playfully enjoying how pissed off Pickles was getting.

“I think he looks hot,” You said matter-of-factly, hugging his head and pressing it against your chest. Pickles went slightly red with the affection, frantically waving his hands to get Nathan to fuck off. Nathan, luckily, understood the signal and promptly shut the door right before the rest of the band could get their mockery in.

“D’ose fuckin’ guys,” Pickles mumbled against you, one again relaxing into your touch, “You really like how I look like this?”

You pulled back, examining his face. His eyeshadow primarily black, blending into a very shimmery gold color. His highlighter was a similar gold and, despite the smudge, his lips looks good enough to kiss. So you did. “You always look good. Just especially now.”

“Don’t give yerself too much credit,” He teased with a smile, dragging you down with him in a tight squeeze. Though he wouldn’t admit it, he loved being fawned over whilst the two of you cuddled into oblivion.

#metalocalypse #dethklok #metalocalypse x reader #request filled #polyklok is real #pickles the drummer #metalocalypse pickles #nathan explosion #metalocalypse nathan #pickles the drummer x reader #pickles x reader #Metalocalypse fanfic

184 notes · View notes

azzibuckets · 9 months ago

Text

Paper Rings [Part 3/10 | Paige Bueckers]

Paige Bueckers x fem!reader

Summary: part 3 of the paper rings series! some insight into paige and reader’s friendship before everything happened

A/N: some fluff and fillers before the angst gets real 💔💔

word count: 1.9k

masterlist w/ all parts

FLASHBACK: 1 YEAR AGO

“Is this yours?”

You had been rummaging through Paige’s closet, looking for a clean oversized shirt to wear to sleep. You two often slept over at each other’s place, to the point where your clothes were so mixed up you guys basically shared the same wardrobe. Unfortunately, Paige wasn’t the most organized person, so you were huffing and puffing as you hunted through the piles in the drawers.

The shirt you were holding up had LVN Volleyball Camp splayed across the front, so you knew it definitely wasn’t Paige’s. It was really big though, so you were curious as to whose it was. Just to know if you could wear it or not, you convinced yourself. Not because you were trying to confirm your fears - that this was another girl who Paige had held that wasn’t you.

Paige didn’t look up from her phone when you asked your question, so you crumpled the shirt up into a ball and tossed it at her head. You were no basketball player, but the balled up shirt smacked her on target, right in the face, and you fought back a self satisfied smile.

Paige finally looked up, giving you one of her soft smiles that tugged at your heartstrings. You loved when Paige looked at you like that, all gentle and affectionate, with half of her mouth turned up into a close mouthed grin that you knew so well.

“The shirt,” you gestured at it.

“Oh.” She looked down, unfolding the shirt and studying it before giving out a laugh. “Shit, sorry, that’s Stacy’s. I don’t know how it ended up in my closet. She was just here yesterday.” She folded the shirt into a neat little square and placed it next to her on the bed. “We must’ve been getting a little bit too wild,” she smirked, waggling her eyebrows at me.

Your heart sunk. Yesterday? You mean, you knew Paige talked to a lot of people, but she usually didn’t talk much about it, probably because she knows you get grossed out with too many details. Your chest stinging, you went to sit on the bed next to her. You didn’t wanna find a shirt anymore. All you wanted to do was go to sleep after a long day.

“What’s up? What’s got you being so emo?” Paige got down to lie her head in your lap, looking up at you with her bright blue eyes. Her was nose scrunched slightly, in the way that she does when she’s happy, and she reached up to play with the ends of your hair, twirling the strands between her fingers.

“Nothing. Just tired and moody,” you lied. You drummed your fingers against your thigh.

Paige smirked. “You really need to get laid, Y/N,” she laughed.

You managed to muster out a weak half smile in response to her words, trying to shove down the itchy pain that rose in your heart. “Shut up, Bueckers.”

“Make me.”

You rolled my eyes at her senseless teasing. “You’re such a flirt,” you groaned. Pushing her off your lap, you got up to look for your charger. You could feel Paige’s eyes on you as you moved about her room. Her legs were splayed out, and she was slumped on the bed. You hated when she did that, just looked at you. It felt like she was studying you all bare under a microscope.

The dynamic between the two of you had definitely shifted since last month, ever the drunken incident on the Big East championship night. You had mumbled apologies the morning after, when she had swung by before practice to make sure you were alright. She didn’t really listen to them, shoving you in that good natured way and assuring you that you guys were “chill like that” and that she could never be really mad at you.

But ever since then, there’d been a tension between the two of you. It spiked in moments like this, where she would start shamelessly flirting with you, trying to get a rise out of you. You didn’t mind much, per se, until you really thought about it and realized there was no meaning behind her flirting. But that was a disappointing reality you were trying to ignore.

“Come back to bed,” Paige called out. This time, you couldn’t tell if she’d meant for it to sound so sexual, but you crawled back into the bed where Paige was bundled up under the sheets.

“You look like a kid,” you giggled, “all wrapped up like a burrito.”

Paige rolled her eyes, a small smile playing at her lips. You felt her grab your waist and pull you closer so now you were both under the mountain of blankets and pillows she had formed. “You’re so warm,” she mumbled sleepily, pressing her forehead against your shoulder.

Both of you knew this was not how normal best friends slept together have a sleepover. But neither of you cared. This was where you felt most comfortable in the world, with Paige’s arm slung across your chest and one of her legs intertwined between yours. Her face was buried in your neck now, and her hair tickled your cheeks.

You could get used to this forever, you thought as you went to sleep.

——————————

Your heart thrummed with anticipation. Today was the day UConn would face off against Louisville in the Final Four of March Madness. You missed Paige; the last time you saw her was when you slept over two days ago. Ever since then, she’d be busy, understandably so. Basketball was her life, and she dedicated all of herself to the sport in times of competition like this.

Paige had gotten you a court-side ticket using one of the family spots allotted to her. Only her dad, step-mom, and Drew could make it to the game; her mom’s side of the family were on a vacation in Spain. On one side of you was Drew, who was happily bouncing in his seat, wearing one of his sister’s jerseys that was adorably big for him, and on the other side was Kayla, who’d gotten this game off but still wanted to watch anyways to support the girls.

As you watched the game, you oscillated between moments of pure joy and happiness when Paige sunk one of her 3s, moments of anger when one of the girls got fouled on without getting any calls for it, and moments of uncertainty when Louisville scored another point and the UConn girls tried to fight off their dejection from showing on their faces.

But you started to stay in the realm of uncertainty once Louisville started gaining, leading by 12 at the end of the third quarter.

“Are they gonna lose, Y/N?” Drew turned to you with a hopeful look in his eyes. You swallowed the knot in your throat. Basketball was everything to this team, and they’d worked so hard to get here. They didn’t deserve to lose, not when they were this close to the national championship.

“I hope not, buddy,” you responded quietly, and ruffled his hair. For the last quarter, Drew gripped your hand, swinging his legs anxiously as the game unfolded.

Despite the team’s best efforts, UConn fell to Louisville, 75-66, and the girls walked off the court, pain fresh in their eyes, their necks steeped with sweat and jerseys sticking damp to their chest. They moved tiredly, some of them being collected for brief post-game interviews while all of the others headed back to the locker rooms.

You made eye contact with Paige, and she pursed her lips, shaking her head sadly before slinging a towel around her neck and following the rest of the girls out.

“She looks so sad,” Drew’s voice was quiet next to you. You could tell he was upset too.

“It’s okay, buddy,” you assured him. “You know what? I bet they’re still selling the pretzels outside. Wanna come with me and see if they have any more churro bites?” Drew’s face lit up at that, and he eagerly shot up from his seat and grabbed your hand.

Paige’s dad, Bob, shot you a grateful smile. “We’ll find Paige, talk to her. You guys join us after, alright?”

You nodded, leading Drew out. To your luck, the pretzel stand had one more scoop of churro bites left that the man gave to you for free since they were closing down.

“Good, Drew?” You reached around him and stole one of the churro bites, popping one in your mouth.

“Y/N!” He groaned, sending me a fake glare. “Now you owe me.”

“I brought you all the way over here for pretzels and I owe you?” You gasped in offense, folding your arms and sending him a fake glare back.

He nodded solemnly. “Yeah. Now you owe me a piggy back ride.”

You laughed. “Okay, hop on,” you agreed, bending down. Drew cheered and jumped on your back, causing you to stumble forward. Both of you giggled as you straightened yourself, and you carried Drew all the way down to the locker rooms.

A security guard stood in the entrance to the hall of the locker rooms, a bored look in his eyes. As you tried to pass, he raised a hand. “Sorry miss,” he stated in a monotonous voice. “Players only.”

“It’s alright, she’s with me,” a voice called out. You looked up to see Paige at the end of the hall, her hair wet and tied up in a loose bun. Even after having just played a tough game, she looked unbelievably gorgeous, her cheeks rosy from the exertment from earlier.

“Paigey!” Drew clambered off my back and barreled into Paige, squeezing his little arms around her waist. Paige, ever the big sister, managed to push aside her feelings from the Final Four loss and look happy for Drew, whom she hadn’t seen in months.

“Hey, bud,” she said quietly, bending down to give him a proper hug. “I missed you.”

They talked in low tones for a moment, Paige smiling fondly at her little brother, before Azzi came along from the locker rooms and stole Drew away to meet the other girls.

Now it was just you and Paige in the hall. She stood up, and you moved to her. Before you knew it, she was in your arms, hugging you so tight you could barely breathe. You wrapped your arms around her, one hand coming up to play with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck, an effort to do whatever possible to comfort her.

“Hey,” you turned your head so your mouth was next to her ear. You whispered in her ear gently, “It’s not your fault.”

Paige drew back, her eyes glassy. Breathing shakily, she said, “All those 3s that I missed. Geno was counting on me. He said I had to step up since Azzi was injured, but I didn’t step up. I missed so many.”

I gripped her waist. “Look at me,” I said firmly. When she looked up to made eye contact, I brought my hands up to hold her face so that she couldn’t look away. “What about all the points that you did make? And all the plays you set up for your teammates? I don’t know much basketball, but I watched you out there, and you played with so much fierceness and grit. You played so goddamn good. Don’t be ashamed. At all.”

Paige reluctantly nodded, before pulling me into another hug. We stood there silently, her face buried in my neck and my arms hooked around her waist, until one of the UConn team assistants came bounding the hall.

“Uh,” he scratched his neck nervously as his eyes flitted between the two of us. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time for Paige to do press.”

Paige groaned. She stepped back, separating our bodies. “Come over later?” She whispered. “Please?” Her eyes searched mine, all hopeful. She was hurting, and hurting bad.

“Of course, P.” I squeezed her hand before stepping back too, letting the assistant shuffle her away to the press hall.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x you #uconnwbb #wbb #wcbb #fluff #enemiestolovers #friends to lovers

300 notes · View notes

stardew-shitposterino · 1 year ago

Text

The Bachelors and how they’d react if you asked them to start a family

Same old same old. This post is inspired by @babiebom 's post about the bachelor/ettes and how many kids they’d have :3 I’m not really a person who is too keen on children and being a housewife, but I can’t deny that the thought of a picture perfect family does warm my heart, girlies. Enjoy 💅🏻🍼

Some answers are gender specific. I hope to anyone playing the game as a same sex couple that you can look past that 🙏🏻

Sam:

-he’d be boots the house down in total shock

-don’t get it twisted, he is ecstatic, but damn he didn’t expect it to be this soon

-of course he is excited about every life stage of his potential little ones, but he can’t wait to have someone he can teach how to skate

-„really? A-and you’re not joking or anything? RAD!“

-maybe he is a bit too excited as he‘s definitely ripping his pants off his body as soon as the message sunk in

-„Oh you didn’t mean we should start it right now? Sorry my bad 😅“

Sebastian:

-he is happy but can’t really show it

-anxiety is kicking hard rn

-it’s not that he doesn’t want this, but he has so many worries, after all he had lived through himself

-he definitely needs some time to think about this

-„Y/N, I’d really love to have this with you one day, but please give me time to adjust to this. It’s a lot for me to process.“

-he will eventually open up about it and you agree on not rushing things. If you’re an opposite sex couple, you agree on starting a family once you’re pregnant. No planning, just living and if it happens, it happens (it probably happened after like 2 months after you had the talk lol)

Elliott:

-„Heavens, Love! What wonderful news. I’ve been waiting for this moment. This will be the start of our legacy!“ (excuse me bruuuhh this is how I imagine him talk lol)

-he had heart-shaped eyes if you haven’t noticed

-as much as he loves the romance and allure of being a childless couple with a world to their feet, he can’t kick the idea of being a wholesome dad raising a curious child with his wonderful partner

-he emphasises on not rushing things as he doesn’t want you to feel pressure. He knows how stressful your job is so he doesn’t want you to feel overwhelmed though you proposed that idea first

-you can bet your ass you went to bed after that talk 👀 WHO SAID THAT 🤨

Harvey:

-he is a blushy mess thank you and amen

-he‘s so anxious but also so excited

-no way you actually proposed this to him. He actually accepted his fate as a childless bachelor

-but here he is, finally getting the happy little family he always wanted

-but it isn’t smooth sailing with him, oh no. You can bet your ass he has to calculate everything through before he feels comfortable enough starting to bring this wish to reality

-you know, you earn a shit ton of money but he is anxious ok. He needs to KNOW the child won’t end up homeless with nothing to wear once it’s here

-“Oh this is all so new and, I-I don’t even know how to say it without it sounding wrong. I just can’t grasp that this is happening. Pinch me so I know I’m not dreaming”

-you didn’t sleep with each other that day but a make-out sess was in it. A wholesome one to say the least. This man is wholesome in my books 📕

Shane:

-the only thing missing here is that he fainted and fell to the floor after you popped the question

-say WHAT NOW?!

-no way. He probably heard it wrong. You didn’t just ask HIM to have YOUR children… no wait the other way around. This is what that question did to his brain lol

-or generally having kids together. He isn’t opposed to adopting because he fears the kids will inherit his messed up brain so taking in kids that are in need of a nice, welcoming home doesn’t sound bad either

-but no wait wait back to the topic; he’s a MESS

-he always wanted children and a family in general, the very boring ass white picket fence fantasy is what he longed for but kind of accepted that it’s something he cannot have. Well guess what…HE CAN

-“wait…did you- and you mean with me? Or is there someone else I should know about? Ok sorry bad joke. But you mean it?! Really? A little sibling for Jas🥹”

-just know this burly man started crying a river of joy tears. But once the tears dried and it kicked in 👀

-“ok if we want this to work out we gotta get to business 😎”

Alex:

-like Shane, he waited for this moment

-just he isn’t anxious like some of the others, he straight up jumps for joy lol

-“BABE NO WAY! I’ve been waiting for this!”

-he is a happy crier tho. Expect him to cry a little but in a good way

-but also expect him to propose the question of having a lot more kids in the future. He wants a football team of kids. But the amount is still negotiable of course (you gave him the “spouse stare” which made him go down a notch lol)

- he will babble about what gender the first kid might be, what he’d do with them depending on it and how he’d get them the smallest grid ball jerseys you’ll ever see because “LOOK THEY ARE SO TINY”

-like some of the others, he might be a bit too eager to start the baby project. Even if you can’t conceive yourself, he will live out that fantasy. You prepared yourself for this because it was very much predictable lol

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv shane #sdv bachelors #sdv elliott #sdv Sam #sdv Alex #sdv Harvey #sdv sebastian #Stardew valley Sam #Stardew Valley Alex #Stardew valley Shane #Stardew valley Harvey #stardew valley sebastian #Stardew valley Elliott #sdv bachelor hcs #Stardew valley headcanons #sdv headcanons

336 notes · View notes

ghostlychief · 2 years ago

Text

Don’t Blame Me

Pairing: MW2 Ghost x f!reader

Summary: They say love makes you crazy, so can they really blame you?

Warnings: mentions of blood, knife usage (stabbing, stabbing people’s eyes, eyes being ripped out of socket); mentions of combat fighting; hints of torture and injuries from torture; typical MW2 lore

NSFW, MINORS DNI: blowjob, fingering, eating pussy; missionary; creampie; aftercare

WC: 7k+ (IK IT’S LONG)

A/N: hello hello! here is the long awaited ghost fic that’s been in development for quite awhile. Thank you so much for participating in my pole, and i hope you enjoy!!! I really let myself indulge in more of the gore this time around, so please read with caution if that kind of content bothers you.

ENJOY🫶🏻🖤

You didn’t know blood could be this thick.

But, as you cut through the swarm of your opponents, you really don’t care how much of it gets on your clothes, seeps into your crevasses, and splashes on your face. No, you really don’t give a shit. Your only objective is to get to Ghost, and quickly.

All you see is red, literally.

Before you even fully process what you’re doing, the knife in your hand has already sunk into a neck, blood spurting everywhere, drenching you further. You carry on, the one person you’re trying to reach at the forefront of your mind.

Should you have felt some remorse for the lives you ended? Probably, but it was like you brain was turned off. Actually, no, that’s incorrect. It was like your brain was wired differently, like it was wired to focus on one thing and one thing only: retrieve Ghost.

You can’t recall when you two got separated, or when he got captured in your last mission. All you remember is the pain you felt when you noticed he’d been taken.

You could blame yourself for his capture, but you decided to turn your fury towards someone else rather than yourself. You realized over the years that self-loathing wasn’t very efficient. It tends to waste time.

It was easy after all; it’s not hard to hold contempt towards the people that stole your lover away from you.

This was their doing. I’m only showing them the consequences of their actions.

It’s what you had to tell yourself. Otherwise, you didn’t see how you were going to come out of this alive. You had to redirect your rage, your frenzy. You had to channel it through your veins, making sure it heated you, and coursed through in a way that burned.

It had to be this way. It was the only way to help you be relentless against your opponents.

You were pretty proud of your knife skills; it was your favorite weapon after all. You always made sure to carry at least two with you at all times.

Today, you strapped on four and you were lucky, since you lost your first two about ten minutes ago. They were no doubt lodged into someone lying on the ground, pierced through their eye. That was your sweet spot, never failing you to effectively take down your opposition.

By this point, it felt like you had sliced your way through a hundred men and yet you still haven’t reached the door of the facility Ghost was being held in. Hope was on the horizon though because you could faintly make out the top of the door frame, which egged you on further. Your muscles worked tirelessly as your arms continued to swing at the men attacking you.

Occasionally, you would move your arms in a quick jabbing motion, repeatedly stabbing the opponent in the stomach and then you would land one last finally blow to their eye, your signature move some would say.

One of the downsides of this move was that sometimes, it took a lot of strength to pull your knife back out of the eye (hence your missing knives), which resulted in pulling their eyeball clear and out of its socket.

Not the best outcome of this tactic, but it is what it is.

Unfortunately, for your last victim, this very thing happened. You were thankful when his screams died down quickly.

You had a moment to catch your breath, hanging your head, quivering hands resting on your upper thighs. You looked up just in time to see someone charging at you, yelling, and with their own knives in their hands.

You noticed that they were the only one alive left outside.

One more. I can take care of him.

You swiftly moved to the side, but could hear the whisp of his blade cutting through the air. That was no good- he got too close.

Time to fix that.

Since you were so deft in your knife wielding ability, you also had a knack of being light on your feet and quick. Something that certainly benefited you.

While the man was no doubt taller and heavier than you, you were faster and anticipated his movements with ease. Sooner than later he too was on the ground, finished, with a sliver blade in his left eye, your red hand-grip the only thing you could see sticking out of his head.

You decided to leave it there, as a parting gift of course.

That’s where you got your nickname, Red Eye, seeing that your weapon of choice was wrapped in a blood-red grip that blended in with the blood that seeped out of your victims’ eye sockets. You thought the nickname was silly at first, but you just grew to accept it over the years. What can you say, you like the fancifulness of it every once in a while.

While you always had reputation, this name made your reputation grow into something almost bigger. While your peers and opponents knew you as the women with the red soaked blades, this name gave you a more, how should you put it?

Eerie reputation.

After stepping over your last remaining victim, you finally reach the double doors, leading into the building Ghost is being held captured in.

Before you entered though, you heard a voice through your comms. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Red Eye.”

Fuck me.

You hear Soap over the comms, “Wait for backup. We’re detecting three bodies via heat signatures”

You let out a groan, but made sure that your comms didn’t pick up on that.

“We don’t have time for that. I need to engage now.”

“You will do no such thing.” You hear Price’s voice cut through, stopping you from opening the doors.

“It’s a miracle you made it this far without any back up. Don’t test my patience.”

Ok, so you may have left without anyone knowing and got a two-hour head start before the rest of your team caught up to your location.

It’s just- they were taking, what it seemed like, forever to develop a plan to get your boyfriend out of captivity. You get it, logistics need to be air tight. But this was Ghost, Simon. Your Simon out there.

You knew he could handle what was given to him, but that didn’t ease any worry or hurt left in your heart, and it made you see red with anger.

That’s how your more or less ended up here, alone, slicing through about 30 men all by yourself. Not the smartest move you admit, but you had to get to Simon. You knew his time was running down, like a sand timer, each minute gone left him more perilous than before.

You were definitely going to get your ass kicked tomorrow at debrief.

You were just about to go in, thinking to hell with listening to orders, when you hear at least two sets of feet jogging across the gravel.

“Jesus, Red Eye. Leave any for the rest of us?”

You just roll your eyes at Soap, ignoring his comment. “C’mon guys, we need to hurry. Let’s take the last of the fuckers out and get Ghost back home.”

“Roger that.”

You go in first taking point, Soap and Kӧnig flanking you.

This time around, you have your handgun out, but your knife is safely held with your left hand, resting on the underside of the muzzle.

The hallway is dark, but it’s to your advantage. You think you see a light source coming from the hallway on the left that you’re coming up to, so you raise your left hand and point in that direction, signaling to Soap and Kӧnig.

This is where you come across the first person.

We must be close.

You let Kӧnig take him out. He comes up swiftly behind him and locks an arm around the man’s throat. First knocking him out, but then ultimately, finishing the job.

You three continue down the long corridor. They seem to go on forever. Sweat drips down your temple, and you hastily swipe it away, not wanting anything to obstruct your vision.

As you come closer to the end of the hallway, you start to hear something.

You raise your hand to signal Soap and Kӧnig to stop, and turn around so they can see you raise your pointer finger up to your lips.

You listen for the sound again, and you realize what it is this time.

Your blood runs cold, and goosebumps form on your arms, freezing you in place as you listen to the deafening sound that doesn’t seem to stop.

Ghost is screaming.

You don’t think you’ve ever heard him be this loud, let alone sound so full of pain. You have to pull it together though, you’re almost to him.

You continue on, making a right this time, and Ghost’s screams become louder. It’s good and bad of course. Good because he’s near you and you’re close, bad because he hasn’t stopped screaming.

You wonder how long this has been going on for.

You feel a heavy weight float down your chest, that takes its resting place in your heart. You find it hard to breath, and it takes every fiber in your being not to go into full panic mode.

You get closer and closer to the room Ghost is in, but you don’t hear him anymore. There is no one outside guarding, so the remaining two people must be inside with him.

Your stomach churns over.

You hadn’t realized it, but you fell behind both Soap and Kӧnig, but without a beat, they took your spot at point, leading you to the door.

They bust in first and immediately go after the two men that were standing by Ghost, who is strapped to a chair. It’s your job to get Ghost free of his confines.

But when you look at him, you freeze all over again.

He’s slumped in the chair, hands and feet bound by thick ropes that are no doubt leaving crude burns in his skin.

His pants have rips and holes in them and from further examination, you realize it’s from cigarette burns and cuts from blades.

You can’t see any damage on his arms but you’re worried what his shirt is hiding on his torso. You realize he’s slumped because he’s knocked out cold, probably from a concussion. But you know he’s alive because you see the slight rise and fall of his chest. It’s ever so faint, but it’s there.

You look around the room and notice a medium size table with different kinds of weapons and tools splayed out along the length of the table. You notice some have dried blood on them, while other tools are still dripping red. Rags litter the table as well. They’re dirty and also have traces of lingering blood.

Once again, you feel the embers burning through you, and you feel like you’re about to explode into a fury of rage.

You turn towards the two men that Soap and Kӧnig took down.

The two bodies lie on the floor and before you realize what you’re doing, you crouching over the first man, and with your blade, you start stabbing both of his eyes, switching on and off between the left and right. While you do this, a blood curdling scream leaves your lips.

It’s both terrifying and heartbreaking; a fine line dances between the two.

You snarl at the now eyeless man before you crawl your way over to his counterpart and release the same anger and revenge onto him. Your screech never faltering.

You don’t realize what you’re doing until you feel strong arms come up behind you and lift you off the dead man.

You start fighting their hold and it’s then when you start crying, your scream turning into a sob. The exhaustion finally getting to you.

“We got him. He’s going to be ok; it’s going to be ok.”

That’s the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

When you wake, you notice you’re lying on something soft. When you come to, you realize you’re on a bed, under a thin layer of covers and your head rests on a firm pillow.

You squint because the lights are overly bright but when they adjust, you notice the infamous florescent glow, meaning, you’re in the medical ward of the base.

You sit up, and you notice no aches or pains outside of your regular soreness you felt after fighting for an extended period of time. Your head also hurts, but you don’t really care.

You want to know where Simon is.

You notice a nurse a few feet away and you wave her over.

“Excuse me, but why am I in here?”

She gives you a tight-lipped smile. If you didn’t know any better, you would say that she’s nervous. She fidgets with her hands before answering you.

“Well miss, you fainted on your last mission. They brought you here to be examined.”

She moves over to the end of your bed and takes out the clipboard that resided in the pocket.

“Here, let’s see.” She looks over your paper before looking back at you, still with a trace of uneasiness.

“Seems like everything is OK. Your vitals are normal, and you have no major injuries, just some light bruising on your arms and hands. You are welcome to leave when you want.”

You glance down and notice the light purple that spans across your knuckles.

Before she can scurry away, you ask, “Wait, where are they keeping Ghost?” You shake your head, “I mean, Simon Riley.”

A look of pity crosses her face before she answers, “He’s in Ward C miss; the intensive care unit.”

She leaves before you can ask her anything else.

What the fuck was her problem?

You jump out of your bed, but immediately regret that decision when your head starts to throb right above your left eye.

Now is not the time for a migraine.

You make sure you have all of your belongings before you rush over to Ward C. Right before you are about to enter through the doorway, Price comes through and stops you with a hand placed on your shoulder.

He looks down at you – you’re really getting tired of being the shortest on the team- and squeezes your shoulder gently.

“Before you go in there, guns-a-blazing, he’s doing ok, alright?”

You just stare up at him and nod. Although it was good to hear Simon was doing ok, whatever the hell that meant, you still had so much anger left in you. So much you were hoping that just the sight of Simon healing would help quell you.

You walk past Price, a determined spring in your step, ready to be reunited with Simon. It’s been so long since you’ve last seen him.

Three weeks.

Three weeks he was gone, and you thought he was never coming back.

The intensive care unit is unusually empty so it’s not hard to find which bed Simon is occupying.

You quietly walk up to the side of the bed, and you are finally by his side.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me bug, I’m awake.”

Simon’s voice startles you and your head turns towards his. You notice his left arm is in a sling but a lazy smile graces his lips.

If you weren’t in a medical facility on base, out in the open to the prying eyes of the public, you would have immediately burst out crying just at the sound of his voice.

Instead, you let out a breathy, “I thought I lost you.”

Unlike Simon, your face has no hint of happiness. Your lips are slightly turned down, quivering and your eyes start to well up with tears, but you will them not to drop.

Your hands are balled up in fists but you bring yourself back down. You are here for him after all; it’s not the other way around.

You slowly unclench your fists and then gingerly sit down on the side of Simon’s bed, right at his hip.

That’s when you bring your hand up to trace down the side of his face, feeling the familiar stubble that never fails to tickle you when he kisses you.

Your hand comes back up to rub his cheek and you say again, “I thought I lost you, Simon.”

He brings his hand up to cup yours that still rests on his face. “I know, I know. But I’m here, and I’m ok.”

“Are you though?” You can’t fight it anymore, the tears stream down your face, their streaks burning your skin.

His hand that was resting on yours comes up to rub your head. “Promise.”

After that, you and Simon laid in his hospital bed for the remainder of the day. He fell in and out of sleep, but you were just thankful he was alive and breathing next to you.

It’s been about three weeks since Simon’s been back. He’s out of his sling and most of his bruises and wounds have healed. Expect for the deeper lacerations on his thighs. He also has some scarring from the cigarette butts. But over all, you would say he’s doing pretty alright, all things considered.

You’re both currently on base, since you needed to attend multiple meetings today, and you’re eating lunch in the cafeteria.

“So, I heard you went kind of, feral, when you came to rescue me.” Simon has an innocent look on his face, but you see him trying to hid his shit eating grin.

You narrow your eyes at him, “And who did you hear that from?”

He just shrugs nonchalantly, “No one in particular.”

You scoff. Fucking Soap.

You knew he must have told someone, if not Simon himself. He was quite the gossiper.

What a fucker.

“Well, did you want me to ask them to be friends?”

Simon lets out a low laugh. “That would have been funny.” You look up at him and see his eyes are lit with amusement.

You let out a sigh, but a ghost of a smile dances across your lips. You know he’s feeling better since he’s joking around.

Another three weeks has passed and you find yourself in the typical meeting room. The one you all use before a mission. That means this will be your last debrief before you jet off to where ever the location is in a few days.

The meeting goes well up until the part where Price says “And Ghost, you will wait here at the rendezvous point.”

You interrupt him, “Wait what?”

The room goes silent as you stare down Price.

“There’s no way Simon is going on this mission. Nope. Not happening.”

“Well, y/n, you don’t really have a say in this. Do you?”

The trace of condescendence has you short circuiting but you keep your cool. You glare at Price, “If Simon’s going on this mission, then count me out.” You don’t notice the slip of his name. Usually at work you call Simon Ghost or LT, but never Simon.

You storm out of the room and head back to your desk to gather your things to leave.

You hear someone lightly jogging behind you, and you have a hunch about who it is that followed you out.

You feel a hand softly grab your elbow and you hear Simon plead, “Wait.”

You sigh and turn around. Looking up at him you confess, “Look, I need to cool off for a bit. We can talk at home, ok?”

You see Simon contemplate whether to let you go or not, but he just gives you a curt nod. He gives your arm a gentle squeeze where his hand still rests, “Ok, see you at home.” --

You basically scowl your whole way home. Listen, you know you have some slight anger issues, but you’re working on it.

You get home after the long day and quickly make way to the shower, needing to feel the hot water run down your head and back. That will calm me, you think.

Once you step out of the shower, you already feel better. You’re clean, and you smell like your favorite soap. You change and do your normal routine after a shower then head to the kitchen to make yourself a warm cup of tea.

Evening tea is one of your favorite treats and it always seems to quell your nerves. Because that’s what you are right now, nervous.

You don’t want to fight with Simon, no, not at all. But you can’t help but feel frustrated at Price, and subsequently him, for deciding that he’s ready to go back in the field. Because from your perspective he’s not. Hell, it’s barley been a month and a half, and you think he needs more time to cope with what happened to him.

Sure, he’s seeing the base’s therapist, and he’s doing everything he can to keep his physical body healthy, yet you can’t help but the ball of worry that has formed in the pit of your stomach, fester. Something keeps nagging at you, and you don’t know what it is.

You just don’t understand how Simon can bounce back so quickly.

Luckily you didn’t have to wait too long for Simon to get home. And when he does, you find yourself perking up on the couch when you hear him come through the door.

He lets out a soft “Hey,” in which you respond just as softly back.

“I’m going to go shower and wash up, but then we can talk, yeah?”

You give him a nod, but also confirm, “Sure, that sounds good.”

His shower felt like eternity, but you know you only feel this way because you’re on edge. Again, you don’t want to fight with him. You just, you love him so much, you can’t stand to lose him again. No, it can’t happen again.

You hear soft footsteps on the tile as Simon makes his way through the kitchen to the living room where you’re still seated on the couch.

You look up at him before he sits down and grant him a quiet smile, and reach out your hand to his. His large hand grasps yours in his, and his thumb traces your knuckles. He then sits down next to you, and now his fingers are tracing over yours, relaxing you just a smidge.

You can feel his warmth radiating off of you instantly, and it takes ever thing in you to not glue yourself to his side.

You both slightly turn to each other, and funnily enough you each say “So,” at the same time.

You giggle and he lets out a low chuckle that makes your insides swarm. You miss him.

“You go first, bug.” The hand that has been tracing yours pulls you closer to him, and he embraces you in a warm hug as you both sit on the couch.

Before you start, you simply just bask in Simon’s embrace, not wanting to let go just yet. You begrudgingly pull away, but still keep your fingers connected in their little dance.

“I’m sorry for storming out today at our meeting. That was unprofessional, and uncalled for, but I just don’t see why you have to go on our next mission.”

“Aren’t you still hurting from what happened to you on the last one? I guess I just don’t understand why you want to go back in the field so soon.”

There’s a pause before you add, “How do you know you’re ready to go back?”

One thing you appreciate about Simon is that he never interrupts you, and he always lets you finish your complete thought before adding his.

When he can tell you’re done, he sighs and says, “Because, y/n, that’s what we’re trained for.”

“I wouldn’t have this job if I couldn’t put the pieces back together after every mission.”

You guess that makes sense, but you’re still concerned about him.

“Listen, I get that, I really do. I guess what I want to make sure of is that you’re actually doing ok and that you’re working through whatever happened to you.”

He’s told you the gist of what happened, and he confides in you whenever he feels like he needs the extra support, but you know that there are some things he’s still hiding. Which, you’re not going to push him to tell you, but you hope at some point he does.

He gives you a slight smile, “That’s why I love you. You’re always looking out for me, and I appreciate it so much, but I’m really doing fine, ok?”

He shifts so he’s leaning in closer to you, and now it’s his turn to cup your jaw with his hand. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and you nod at his answer. “I love you too.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

You grant him a smile in return and then he pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss deepens and before you know it, you’re straddling his lap, one leg on either side of his thick torso. You’re a mess as you straddle him, and you wrap your arms around his neck, wanting to be closer to him, if even possible.

He wraps his arms around you and subconsciously pulls you closer to him. His large hands span across your back as he holds you close to him. Your center brushes against his you let out a moan when you feel this contact. You run your hands down his neck and shoulders, feeling the taught muscles underneath his black t-shirt. As you rock your hips against his, you hear him let out a moan, which only eggs you on further.

“Fuck, y/n. Keep doing that again.” His hands travel down to hold you hips, almost as if he’s trying to help you move against him.

Your hands move in tandem and they come to rest at the base of his t-shirt, your fingers playing with the hem. You’re itching to take it off of him, and he seems to understand what you want, because he pauses kissing you to help you take off his shirt.

Now shirtless, you bring your hands up to his shoulders and then trail them slowly down his torso, nails ever so slightly scraping against his skin. You can feel each ridge and bump from his abs before your reach the hem of his sweatpants. Your fingers graze over his happy trail before you start toying with his sweats.

You run one finger along the hem of his grey sweats, then ever so slightly, your finger enters his pants, you run your finger under his sweatpants. You’re teasing him, and you can tell he’s getting antsy by the way he shifts as your finger runs along the band of his briefs.

As you continue to tease him, you trail or lips over his chest. Your lips wrap around one of his nipples, the unpierced one, and you softly bite him before you run your tongue over his nipple, suckling.

He moans out a gentle “Fuck,” and one of his hands comes up to grasp your hair.

You move over to his other nipple, the pierced one to be exact, and you once again softly bite him then suck. You make sure to spend your time here because you know this is one of Simon’s favorite thing during foreplay. Once he’s taken care of there, you continue to trail your lips down his abdomen, and now you’re finally at his center.

You get off his lap and sit on the floor in-between his spread legs. You place your hands right above his knees, and you look up at him with your swollen lips.

“You’re going to be good for me tonight, right?” You rub your thumbs in soft circles on his legs, waiting for his answer.

You see him gulp as he looks down at you, and then his lips quirk, in a smirk.

“What do you say?” Your hands stop their ministrations and you tilt your head, understanding what he wanted.

“Please.”

His smirk deepens, “Good girl.”

At his greenlight, you come up on your knees so that you can reach him better. Your trail the hem on his sweatpants one last time before you start pulling them down off his hips, making sure that his briefs come off too. He lifts his butt to help you, and now you’ve successfully taken his pants and underwear off.

You greedily take in the size of him. His dick is hard and slightly curved as it lays against his stomach. You wrap your hand around him, he’s so thick that your hand doesn’t close around it the whole way. You pump him slowly, as you look at him. His eyes are blown out and he leans his head back against the couch. You smile at him before you lower yourself. You link one strip up his dick, making him squirm underneath you. You then you bring up your hand to start pumping him. As your hand moves up and down, your lips come up to kiss the to crown of his dick.

You look up at him again, locking eyes and then wrap your lips around him. Once your lips make contact, he lets out a low moan. You continue to sink down on him. You move your head up and down, trying to adjust to his size. The part of his dick that you can’t fit into your mouth, you cover with your hand, pumping him up and down.

Your hair falls around you, and at this, Simon carefully takes your hair into one hand, putting it into a makeshift ponytail.

“Fuck, baby that feels so good.”

You continue to suck on him, hollowing out your cheeks. You know he’s close when you see his abs start to clench and his legs start to stiffen.

The moans he lets out has your getting wetter and wetter by the minute, and you squirm, trying to ease some of the pent-up tension you’re feeling.

Your unoccupied hand comes down to play with his balls, gently squeezing them and that is what does him in. He lets out a louder groan and you feel his warm come shoot down your throat.

You keep your mouth on him, cleaning him up before you slowly take yourself off him. You wipe your lips with the back of your hand and you sit back on your heels, smiling at him.

He runs a hand through his hair, and lets out a low chuckle.

“Damn, you really did a number on me there.” You laugh yourself and you come up to the couch, sitting beside him so you can turn his head to give him a lingering kiss.

You give him a few pecks, “What can I say, I’m good at what I do.” Your eyes are bright as you look at him, and his hold the same amount of affection and adoration.

His low voice cuts through you, “Now it’s my turn to make you feel good, alright?”

You give him a brief nod, “Please.”

He pulls you back into him, and then starts to push you back so you’re lying on the couch under him. He’s kissing you frantically now, his tongue entering your mouth.

“Take your pants off for me, would you?” His hands make their way to take your shirt off, and while he does that, you slip out of your shorts, underwear gone with them.

“Thank you, baby.”

He keeps kissing you as his hand comes down to your center. He first cups you, and then brings his pointer finger to rub against your clit. As his pointer is stimulating your clit, his middle and ring finger run along your slit, gathering up all the wetness that formed over the course of the last half hour.

You see him bring his coated fingers up to you. “Taste for me,” he breathes. And without any hesitation, you suck on his fingers, tasting yourself, making sure to look at Simon while you lick his fingers. He watches you with fire in his eyes.

“Good girl.”

You’ll never get tired of hearing him call you that.

He brings his hand back down to your pussy and then enters two fingers in you, stretching you out deliciously. You whine as his fingers enter you; they feel so good inside you.

Luckily for you, your boyfriend has quite large hands, which equated to long, thick fingers, and he always knew what to do with them.

He starts picking up the pace, and the squelching sound his fingers make is deafening, and the only thing you can focus on as they move in and out of you.

You didn’t even have to ask before he’s adding in a third. You feel yourself clench around him, and you’re already losing your mind and he hasn’t even properly fucked you yet.

He’s hitting you right in your sweet spot, and your hands come up to hold him by the shoulders. He moves down ever just a hair, and you’re not sure why until he lowers his head. He spits, and then connects his lips with your clit, moving his tongue around your sensitive bud.

The addition to his lips on your clit has you seeing stars and you start to feel that familiar build up. You tumble over the edge, a bright warmness spreading through you.

Simon removes his lips and fingers from you and you’re both panting heavily. He’s bracing himself with one arm as he looks down at you.

Your hair is messily strewn across the couch behind you, and your eyes are bright. Your chest moves up and down as you try and catch your breath. You smile up at him, this time your teeth showing.

He gives you a peck on your lips. “How was that?”

You sigh, “Amazing.”

Another kiss is pressed on your lips and you can faintly taste yourself on him.

“I want to properly fuck you, and that can’t be done on the couch. Bedroom, yeah?”

You nod up at Simon acquiescing to his suggestion.

“Alright, up you go then.”

He swiftly pulls you up and off the couch into his arms. You squeal at the sudden movement but it turns into giggles as Simon carries you bridal style to the bedroom.

“Wow, my night in shining armor.” You lazily loop your hands around his neck as he leads you both to the room. He just laughs at your statement.

Once there, he gently deposits you on the bed, and wastes no time picking up where you left off.

He crawls on top of you and starts to kiss you up your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth. His kiss leaves you burning, and your hands eagerly reach for him, pulling him down further into you.

You wrap your legs around his torso, and feel his dick brush up against your center, hard once again.

He pulls away to look at you, eyes connecting. “Do you need any more prep?” He brings a hand up to brush away some of the flyway hairs that covered your face. His hand lingers, cupping your head, and his thumb brushes your cheek in a soothing back and forth motion.

Smiling you answer, “No, I’m good.”

“Ok.”

Bracing himself above you, his hand trails down to grasp his dick. He gives it a few pumps before running it along your slits, and lightly taps it on your overly sensitive clit.

He then slowly guides it into you, the stretch much bigger than what his fingers could offer. You both let out a sigh as he fully sinks into you, eyes connecting at this very moment. Once he’s fully inside, he gives you some time to adjust, his hand moving to hold your hips, thumb moving in circles.

“You okay?” He asks, looking down at you. You look up at him, “Yeah, I’m good, you can start moving.”

At your consent for him to move, he does just that. He pulls his hips back before he pushes them back into you. He starts off with a steady pace, not too fast, not too slow. You’re surprised he’s not pounding into you relentlessly like he usually does. This time his thrusts are much more calculated, calm, like he’s got all the time in the world. The slower drag of him against your walls makes you roll your eyes back, reveling in the feeling of him.

It’s only him, that’s all you can think about, all you can feel. You let go of the heaviness you’ve been feeling to focus on being with him now. It’s not hard, he makes you feel like you’re floating anyways.

Your fingers run down his face, down his shoulders, taking in as much as you can of him. Then you run your hand down his tattooed arm, mapping the intricate details of his tattoos and running over the protruding veins due to him propping himself up. Simon watches you as you run your hand across him.

He gives you a particular harsher thrust, eyes trained on you when you moan and clutch his arm a harder. He picks up the pace just a little, loving the way you look beneath him, taking his cock so well.

“Fuck. Right there, baby,” you breathe. He hits that same spot again, but this time you move up the bed a little from the force of his hips. Your breasts jiggle as you shift up the bed and Simon’s eyes are travel to your chest. He brings his hand up to up one of them, rolling his thumb over your nipple. Simon keeps this faster rhythm with his hips, slamming into your now quivering pussy, showing you no mercy as he pounds into you with force.

His thrusts are powerful that leave the breath knocked out of you.

He removes his hand from your breast to wrap it around your leg. He positions your leg so it’s resting on his shoulder, now giving him a new angle into you. This position allows you to feel him move even deeper inside you, now feeling the tip of his dick hit your cervix, which makes you whine. His thrusts continue their hard motions, but his pace starts to slow down.

Simon’s hips start to falter a little bit in their smooth rhythm, a telltale sign he’s close. At his praising, you unconsciously clench around him, making him breathe out a silent curse as his hand tightens on your leg that is propped up on his shoulder.

“Si, I’m close,” you whine. You feel so full, so consumed by all things Simon, the only thing you can focus on is him and the building orgasm that threatens to spill over.

“Me too.” Simon removes his hand that’s been propping your leg up and moves it down to your clit, and starts to rub slow circles on the bud, making you squirm. You bring your leg down from his shoulder to wrap it around his torso once again pulling him closer to you. You drag your hands down and up his back as his thumb continues to abuse your clit. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

With a few more thrusts from Simon and the quick movements of his finger on your clit, you feel the coil in you snap, and it snaps hard. Your orgasm washes over you, a blinding white light that makes you feel like you’re going to pass out, and you call out his name one last time.

Your eyes squeeze shut and you see stars, as your pussy clamps down hard on Simon’s dick. He’s a moaning mess above you as he feels your orgasm that’s traveling through your body, your walls contracting around him.

He curses out a soft “fuck baby” and then he’s following just a hair behind you, traveling over his precipice as well, emptying inside of you. You feel his come paint your walls as your pussy continues to clench around him, as you ride out your second orgasm of the night.

He collapses on top of you but is careful not to crush you completely. You’re breathing heavy as you both come down from your highs, both sweaty messes.

He lifts his head to look at you. There’s a soft smile on his face and you smile back.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, bug.”

Your smile falters, “I never want you to leave me like that ever again. Got it?” Your voice is firm, but there’s an underlying trace of tenderness. Your hand comes up to push his hair back, waiting for his answer.

“Never.”

“Good.” You pull him back down to you for a kiss.

He slowly peels himself off of you and whispers out, “Wait here.”

You lay on your back, legs bent as you wait for Simon’s return. When you hear him entering the bedroom, you slightly sit up and you notice a washcloth in one of his hands.

He kneels back on the bed and gingerly pries your legs open so he can clean you up. He delicately starts wiping your center, his first few strokes making you writhe due to oversensitivity. His hand rests tenderly on your knee, thumb stroking back and forth as he wipes you clean. He must have run the washcloth under hot water because it’s wet and feels warm against your skin.

When he’s done, he pecks the inside of your knee and gets up off the bed to go throw the washcloth in the hamper. When he returns to you, he’s in his boxers, and he has a t-shirt in his hand.

“For you, my lady.” You laugh at him and take his shirt, pulling the soft material over your body.

You both clamber under the covers, and are now wrapped up in Simon’s arms.

There’s no place you’d rather be right now, and you’re so thankful the universe allowed you another chance to be with him like this.

If he didn’t make his way back to you, you don’t even know what you would have done. Probably would have gone mental, but who could really blame you?

369 notes · View notes