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bisexualiteaa · 7 months ago

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actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want

A Flame in Your Heart

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader

AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️

Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.

“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.

“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.

Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.

“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.

Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.

He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.

When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.

When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?

“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.

“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.

Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.

Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.

In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.

As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.

“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.

It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.

“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.

By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.

It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.

“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.

#fallout x reader #fallout smut #fallout #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #sole survivor #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #asks

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cherubfae · 19 days ago

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HEAR ME OUT NOAH, A THOUGHT PERHAPS.

Sylus, ever so cocky, has spent the last hour working you up with hot, feverish kisses, only to slide his hand between your legs, feel how wet you are, and with a wicked grin muse out a “all of this from just a little kissing, sweetie?”

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔯𝔬𝔴 𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔨𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔶 {𝔰𝔶𝔩𝔲𝔰}

screaming, punching, kiCKING THE AIR! this man is so very near and dear to me ;^; aaaa!!

tags: nsfw, smut, fem!reader, established relationships, size kink, size training, pet play (sorta), mentions of breeding kink, kind of short!!

a/n: just a little side note, i think it's so cute when you guys 'yell' my name at me xD it's so funny. I'm tired of the dark content of my sweet man and the gross AI bots I've seen--among how minors treat him. none of that here! >:( we respect sylus in this house! and as always, MINORS GET OUTTA HERE!

"Look at you...," Sylus's deep voice chuckled right beside your ear and punctuated his sentence with a little nibble. "Already so desperate for me and we've barely begun."

You suck in harshly, "Sylus!" He gripped your soft thighs, grinning down at you like a mischievous cat.

"Shh, none of that. I don't want you straining yourself. If you tense up, I won't be able to fit any of me inside." Sylus cooed, his voice like soft velvet, his body was all-encompassing and warm like a security blanket over your half-naked body.

If there's one thing Sylus was is that he was devotingly patient. You knew he would act good upon his words and take care of you. He'd always been too big before and both of you were more than a little pent up.

Little by little, he works you open with his long, thick fingers. Gently and reverently curling them upwards inside of you; coaxing out such sweet, little moans like music to his ears. His favorite melody. Your underwear was merely tugged to the side, exposing soft curls and tender lips to the chilly air of his bedroom. The N109 Zone seemed particularly frigid lately with the impending winter season.

Lewd squelching echoes out as his fingers gently stretch and curl into you. Your quiet moan has him smiling; his swollen cock throbbing in anticipation. "There you are.. Are you ready, sweetie? We'll go slow." Sylus gently gripped your hip, pulling you down til your bare ass is flush with his meaty thighs.

The first press of him against your slick entrance is always a bit overwhelming. You can feel the power and dominance lingering in his movements as his thick mushroomed head parts your folds slowly. It's an agonizing stretch, long and drawn out, and he's not even that far inside. The feel of him is enough to make your lose your mind, it didn't matter that only his tip is inside; you felt like you were underwater.

"Remember to breathe, love. Don't strain too much. if you aren't relaxed, sweetie, then I really won't fit-- and I'd very much like to."

It takes everything in you not to grit your teeth. Falling back against the pillows, you draw your knees to your chest. Sylus groaned, watching with rapt attention as little by little he feeds his engorged length into your tiny hole. He's heavy, you can feel the weight of him pressing you down into the mattress. Your legs kick out, hips going lax when Sylus gets about halfway in.

"Is the little rabbit succumbing to the fox already?" Sylus purrs, leaning down to nuzzle at your ear. You half-heartedly roll your eyes and shoot him a playful glare.

"And why am I not the fox?" You pout, cheeks flushed from the exertion. Sylus heartily chuckled.

Leaning down, his weight makes you gasp and arch as several more inches slide into your quivering hole with a wet squelch. "My dear, if you're a fox then I'm the big bad wolf intent on breeding you."

|| please don't repost, reuse, or edit my works in any way! I do not give permission. Tumblr is the only site where I post. All characters belong to their rightful owner and the story belongs to me © CHERUBFAE 2024 ||

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace smut #lads imagines #lads x reader #lads smut #lads x you #sylus x reader #sylus smut #sylus imagine #cherubfae 2024

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vivwritesfics · 2 months ago

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Mrs Vettel's Anger

The long awaited (not really) sequel to Padawan Learner

Vettel!reader X Logan Sargeant (platonic)

She sat there, staring at her phone. Her baby was sleeping in the crib she had set up beside the sofa, never too far away from her. But he wasn't the focus of her attention at that moment.

She'd stayed off of social media since her impromptu retirement (she had every intention of returning to racing, but she wasn't ready to leave her baby yet). She hadn't checked any kind of feed, the only place her pictures were posted were to her family groupchats.

Her Formula One obsessed brother was the one that sent her the link to the article, the one about the future of Logan's career.

F2 racer Colapinto replaces Sargeant at Williams for rest of 2024 season

She didn't click on the article, just looked at the headline. She didn't want to click it, didn't want to read the rest of it. It couldn't have been real.

She looked over at her sweet baby, sleeping so soundly in the crib. She would be fine on her own for just a few minutes. Standing up, she gripped her phone as she raced through the house, desperately searching for her husband. "Seb!"

He emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. "What's the matter, Meine Taube?"

Words failed her, so she just held up her phone. Sebastian took it from her hands and read the headline of the article. He clicked the link and gave the article a quick read. The grim look that crossed his face confirmed it for her.

"Fuck," she hissed as she took her phone and slipped it into her pocket. Logan really had been fired. James Vowles had ended his career, and she was fucking mad.

"I'm so sorry, Meine Taube," he muttered and pulled her in. His hand was on the back of her hair, nails scratching at her hair as she held back tears. "I know how much potential you saw in him."

"He's still got potential, Seb. I don't know why James doesn't see it."

He kissed the top of her head. "Have you spoken to Logan yet?"

She shook her head and went to go and do just that.

***

It was easy to convince Seb to go to Italy. The hardest part was leaving their little girl in the hands of the babysitter. Sebastian took her phone from her to stop her from calling the moment they got into the car.

The trip to Italy wasn't meant to be fun. It was purely business. Her hand was ready to do some slapping.

Seb held her hand as they walked through the paddock. Their first stop was Kimi (Räikkönen), the ex teammates catching up. Sebastian instantly had his phone out to show Kimi pictures of their sweet baby girl, going through seeming every moment of her life.

But his wife wanted to go to the Williams garage.

Finally, she got to go. She marched her way over to the Williams garage, steam coming out of her ears.

Alex, bless him, tried to greet her. He tried to say 'hello', to her, tried to stop her for a chat, but she was a woman on a mission. She marched straight past him, further into the garage.

There wasn't much Sebastian could do to stop his wife at this point. He stopped at the edge of the garage, wished Franco Colapinto luck on his first race.

James Vowles should have known to hide. But, instead, he smiled as Mrs Vettel approached him. He opened his mouth, ready to say hello to her, but her hand met his cheek.

The slap seemed to silence the garage. All eyes were on him as she stared up at James. "How dare you," she said lowly. "How dare you axe Logan in the middle of the season! You've never supported him in his career, James! You never wanted him in that seat! He had so much fucking potential and you go and replace him with another driver who won't get to show his full potential either!" She was breathing heavily as she stared at him. "Logan just wanted to make this team proud. That's all he's ever wanted to do, and you didn't give him the tools to do it."

James was staring at her, waiting for her to go on. But she had stopped, stopped long enough to hear a response. "It's purely business."

She slapped him again. "Mark my words, James. I'm going to get him into another team, a better team. Just you fucking wait." She turned on her heal and marched back towards her husband.

There he was, talking to the newest William's victim. She steadied herself, painted a smile onto her face, and approached him. "Hey, kid," she said. "James gives you any kind of shit, give me a call," she said and stepped into Sebastian's hold.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. He was so damn proud of her.

#logan sargeant #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel fluff #sebastian vettel x you #sv5 #sv5 imagine #sv5 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

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annabelle--cane · 10 months ago

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this is a difficult thing to have conversations about because it provokes really strong reactions in people for completely valid and understandable reasons, so please feel free to hit da bricks on this post whenever you want, but I do want to try and analyse the jonmartin slaps. we get three across 160, 169, and 172, and a line addressing it in 173, and then it never happens or comes up again. none of them come out of nowhere, and they mostly fly under the radar until 173 because they all broadly fit the "slapping someone out of a trance in an emergency" trope, but each of them slowly decreases in urgency.

the first time, the apocalypse starts up and martin comes back to find a passed out jon, can't wake him by making noise, and strikes him in a panic. this makes sense, this is a man who has entered a supernatural coma before and martin had no idea what was going on, so of course he'd jump to something desperate.

the second time, they're in a burning building, jude arrives while jon is still mid-statement, and when making noise doesn't work martin slaps him out of it. this makes sense, they were there for jude and if jon didn't come back to himself then she likely would have hurt them, though martin knew that her powers against them were limited.

the third time, jon is getting pulled into into a repeating statement instead of coming out on his own like usual, so martin speaks once or twice to try and get his attention, and then slaps him out of it. this... again, it makes sense, jon was getting trapped, but there was no immediate peril like before, martin just got freaked out and wanted to leave quickly. he seems to get that it was harsh because he apologizes for it, but they don't linger at all, martin just starts in on them having to leave immediately.

the last time it's mentioned is when they're on night street, during what is one of their most intense arguments. jon tries to talk about the suffering of the children there for longer than he needs to in order to make a point, martin cuts him off, and he pointedly says, "thank you for not hitting me this time." it never happens or is brought up again.

to our knowledge, jon doesn't say anything about the slapping until 173. he's not a guy who's known for speaking up when things upset him, he was amiably working with daisy within about a week of her trying to kill him, so it makes sense that he would just sit with this comparatively more minor thing. however, I do think it's relevant to note that, at this point in their relationship, martin will sometimes voice his feelings and boundaries (not listening to statements, not consenting to mind reading, worrying when jon expresses discomfort with his body), while jon doesn't. from the couple of times he does talk about his feelings this season, I think that tendency comes a few places: he has a hard time being aware of his emotions at all, he doesn't know how to evaluate his emotions' importance in comparison to others', he assumes his emotions are obvious and thus people already act with full knowledge of them, and the topic is just hard to make himself talk about. from what he says in 173, I think the slaps bothered him the entire time, but he made himself be fine with it until he was upset with martin for unrelated reasons and finally let it out.

as for martin's side, I do not think the slaps came from any kind of suppressed desire to hurt or wield power over jon. we've seen him when he's angry at jon, this isn't how he acts, he gets shouty and indignant but never violent. I'd even go as far as to say he doesn't do it in 173 because he's genuinely upset at jon and the situation they're in, and it would never occur to him to deliberately inflict pain on someone he cares about to assert control over them. the connecting line between all of them is fear from something that he wants jon to help him handle. the apocalypse starts, he is stuck inside one of his worst nightmares, and he's paranoid that the web took control of him. he's someone who is "always following, never leading" (170), and he gets tunnel vision when something scares him and his "leader" isn't there.

jon did need to be pulled out of all three of those situations, and words proved insufficient, and maybe a quick jolt of pain was the only thing that could have worked, but martin doesn't seem to consider what that would feel like from jon's pov. in my experience of relationships, if there's ever an unavoidable emergency where you do actually need to cross a line that you never would otherwise, you talk about it afterwards. you do a debrief where you say "I'm really sorry about that, I didn't see another way, I'll try and be better prepared next time." they do this for problems they have later on (177, 198), but martin doesn't do that here. jon's point-of-view just doesn't seem to occur to him. when jon expresses discomfort, he drops the tactic without a word; later, when he needs to anchor jon in the panopticon, he talks him through it before it can get too far. so, it's not about a lack of care for jon's feelings.

I think it comes down to a few things: a) his occasional tendency to treat people as a means to an ends and not think about their perspective. he's so glued to putting others first most of the time that when he stops, he can't find a middle ground and forgets that other people can have feelings about his actions. b) his problems with conceiving of himself as a person of any importance who is capable of doing anything, especially of doing harm. as a concept, "hurting jon" is the thing he would least like to do in the whole world, it is his nightmare scenario and literally the culminating moment of his tragedy. he finds it almost unthinkable, so the idea that he does it casually when he's scared doesn't cross his mind. one of his central worries at this point is that jon is now so powerful that he no longer needs martin, how could he hurt someone like that? he's not anywhere near a comparable level of importance, it's not like he has his own domain that he's not aware of because jon told him about it and he immediately rejected the information. he's powerless and could never bring himself to hurt the man he loves.

I just. think it's an interesting microcosm of some of the lows of their relationship. once the problem is discovered martin instantly takes the note and doesn't put it on jon to explain himself further or assuage his guilt, they are willing and able to adapt, but it still comes from some of their bedrock flaws. martin doesn't understand that he can hurt people, and jon has such an inflated understanding of his capacity to hurt people that it sabotages his self-worth and his ability to respond to pain and displeasure.

#tma #marina marvels at life

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hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog · 3 months ago

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Too Far.

Summary: He's like a wounded animal when he's angry, lashing out when he feels cornered. He's gone too far this time, snapped and said something he definitely didn't mean, so now he has to fix it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Fighting. Daryl is a dick, but not really, but also he is. Apologetic!Daryl. Alexandria Era. Sex.

A/N: Inspired by an excellent post by @love-norman which I'll link in the comments. I wasn't sure if you were okay with smut, so there's a fairly brief mention of sex but nothing overly explicit.

He’s a surprisingly effective communicator, once she can convince him to talk more and with enough time to work out exactly what ticks and grunts mean what. Daryl Dixon’s entire bag is self-sacrifice, so if he can assume that she needs him to tell her what’s going on in the always too busy head of his, he can do that for her without much care for how it impacts him. It’s not his most healthy coping mechanism but it certainly isn’t his worst and the reward? Oh, the reward is sweet. The reward is comfort and kindness and being held; being loved. What’s a moment of discomfort for a lifetime of her?

He's had to practice letting his walls down, slowly but surely since he met her, all the while failing to realise she was just digging her way underneath them. She didn’t ever pry, not really, not in any way that felt invasive, but she’d patiently wait him out; ask the question quietly, softly, and let him linger in the comfortable silence until he chose to answer back. Sometimes she’d work out the information without his need to speak at all; it happened the moment he realised he was fucked, that he was absolutely, irrefutably hers. She’d worked out exactly who he was as a person and he’d barely sad a word.

He’s attentive, and whilst that shocks him it comes as no surprise to anyone around him. He has spent his life fearing that he is exactly who he feared, but those who are lucky enough to consider themselves, correctly or not, close to Daryl never fear for much but his wellbeing. That he is a careful, thoughtful and tender partner surprises nobody but him. That’s not to say they don’t argue, the end of the world comes with its own set of tensions even without the usual relationship concerns, but he’s learnt not to bite first.

He shouldn’t have drunk anything, in hindsight, they’re both in bad shape, overwrought and under-fed and they shouldn’t have been at a fucking party, of all places. He definitely shouldn’t have had the four glasses of scotch Reg offered him on a mostly empty stomach. He can’t get used to the Alexandria walls, the houses he never could have afforded to breathe near let alone buy, the soft comforts he’d never had even before the end of the world. He’s never been to a party that hasn’t had a piss-stained couch or an overly full ashtray.

“You know that’s bullshit, Daryl, you’re being ridiculous!” She yells, firmly back in their own living room after he’d practically stormed out of Deanna’s. One minute they’re in full swing, standing talking about vacations from the old days with some new faces, the next his hand is dropping from around her waist and thudding from the front door like she’d said, ‘fuck off’ rather than the word ‘Canada’. He’d slammed the door behind them and snarled about how he would have embarrassed her and her fancy fucking vacations in ‘the real world’.

“Lil’ miss travel abroad and see th’ world cause she’s better than Daryl fuckin’ Dixon”

“What? That’s not-“

“I’m jus’ an idiot redneck with nothin’ an’ you’re this smart chick who saw the world, I get it, I ain’t dumb, th’ fuck would ya have wanted wit’ me?”

Her heart would shatter for him if she wasn’t seething quite so much, the sheer desperation in his words at odds with the tension in his body, clenched hands dragging through his finally clean hair. His eyes are stinging and he absolutely refuses to cry, has never gotten over thinking it makes him weak even when he feels weak.

“Daryl, what the fuck? Why are you being such an asshole?“

“Shut up, always yappin’ about stupid shit, fuckin’ hate ya sometimes!”

He turns quickly, wants to throw something, wants to scream, broad shoulders and harsh angles and all the wind leaves his body when he sees her flinch away from him. She’s cowers backwards, he feels like he’s going to be sick, body collapsing in on itself as he feels the anger leave his bones, replaced with ice laced panic. For a second, a horrifying second that feels ten times as long, he’s his old man. Shitfaced and angry with a glass in hand and if he had a mirror, he knows exactly whose face he’d see staring back at him.

“I would never hurt ya” he whispers, voice low and so broken, full of conviction as his breath hitches in the middle and crumbles at the end and she’d hug him if she wasn’t so shell shocked. Neither of them move for a beat, standing stock still as he trails his eyes over her, clocks the way her gaze refuses to lift to meet his. He can’t breathe. The room is too small for everything he’s feeling, like the walls are inching close and closer and the air is getting less. He tries to move like lightning but his whole body feels sluggish and slow as he inches past her and out the front door, flinching as it closes behind him and he wanders out into the street. He stares back at the house for a moment before deciding he needs a walk to clear his head.

When he comes back she’s sitting on the couch waiting for him, thumbs twiddling, head still down and worry eating her alive. He eases the door shut behind him, loud enough to tell her he’s home but soft enough to show he’s not mad. He wishes a door could convey remorse but it’s taken him long enough to be able to do it with words he doubts a block of wood would be able to in the timeframe he needs. He shucks off his boots, realising he shouldn’t have been wearing them in the house in the first place.

The fresh air has cooled his body enough that he feels less of the alcohol circulating around his system. He tries not to squeeze the flowers he’d plucked from the bush outside Aaron’s place as he stands with his back against the wood.

“’M sorry” he whispers before clearing his throat and repeating it at a higher volume. She turns her face towards him, looking at him over her shoulder. The anger is gone from her face, replaced with a dwelling worry that spikes at him, makes him replay his words over and over.

“What did I do?”

“Nothin’” he insists quickly, pauses before he realises he should say more, that she sometimes needs him to say more, they’ve talked about this “Ya didn’t, I promise”

“I’m sorry”

That does it, rips him from his safe haven by the door because he can’t stand the thought that she deserved anything he said to her, that she’d said anything wrong when he knows she hadn’t. Talking at a party, about stupid old-world stuff whilst her spare, wine glass free hand kept his back warm. She hadn’t said a damn thing wrong, and he’d scared her.

He strides over to the couch, coming round to kneel in front of her. He places the somewhat squashed flowers on the couch cushion next to her. He hovers a hand above her knee, placing it gently on the fabric of her dress when she doesn’t flinch away at the sight. He doesn’t want her to flinch ever again.

“Dun’ apologise to me when ya ain’t done nothin’ wrong”

“I’m so-“

“Dun’ ever apologise to me when i’s my fault. ‘S my shit an’ I shouldn’t take it out on ya”

She knows he loves her, has proven it time and time again, has put his body in front of hers in the face of almost certain death, would protect her with his last breath, would love her with it. But she knows she’ll never be able to unhear it, that some things you can’t take back, that she’ll always wonder, just a little bit if its true. Logic and love are very rarely intertwined.

“Okay”

He can still hear his fathers words ringing in his head, he knows, more than most, the power that words hold over people. He tries not to say anything he doesn’t mean, and he’ll admit he’s acerbic, pointed sure but never cruel, never unnecessarily unkind. He doesn’t know why tonight was different, but he takes her hands in his, locking his eyes on her so she understands.

“I dun’ get t’ speak t’ ya like that”

“No, you don’t” she agrees, voice firmer, back to her usual tone, the one he’s always loved going hand in hand with the certainty she can hold her own. She pauses, bringing his hands up to press a kiss to his knuckles, soothing because she’s terrified that after all this time, he’s still going to break them by thinking he’s not allowed to claim his hurt “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer, instead sitting back on his feet, raising a small hopeful smile at her.

“Tell me about th’ vacation”

“I don’t-“

“Please. Ya said ya still think ‘bout Canada all th’ time”

He really does want to know, he hadn’t been outside of Georgia before everything went down, and she’s mentioned travel but Canada hadn’t come up; he’s not sure if it was that, that set him off or that he felt inadequate in a room full of people with experiences he never got to have.

“I think it was my favourite trip. Packed a bag and went alone on a whim, found a lake in the forest with a little cabin. Just mountains and trees and lakes. It’s the most peaceful I’ve ever felt. I never wanted to mention it, I know you missed out on so much, but then everyone was talking and I-“

“Nah, go on, ‘S’alright”

“When Reg asked…I was going to say that’s what I picture, when I think of life outside of all of this, me and you in Canada”

“Ya think of that with me?” his voice is low, incredulous awe pulled tight at the edges, he was so busy feeling less than everyone else that he’d missed out on the fact she was thinking of him. She nods, smiling at him, working it out without him needing to say it, figuring out what drove him to snap without asking, under his walls and right in the centre of the internal world he’s built.

“We’d have a house, out near a lake with a wooden porch, and a dog, big scruffy one who likes to catch fish. We’d have coffee together overlooking the water in the morning. You’d work at the local garage, ‘cause you’re good with your hands and tools, wouldn’t have to deal with people all day, fix up all the bikes you’d secretly want...”

He’s staring her at in silence, watching her wistful face glow in the lamplight, he can barely breathe let alone find words knowing that she’s not just dreamt about a life with him, she’s thought it out in detail. He wants it, wants that life with her so badly it aches, thinks it’s the first time he’s wanted anything from life except to get through it.

“I’d work at the bar, play guitar at crappy open mic nights and you’d come for a beer after my shift to walk me home”

He hums, all the response he can manage, guilt chewing at him from the inside, clawing at his mind knowing that he’s taken his own problems out on her, told her he hates her all the while she’s dreaming of something so utterly fucking perfect.

“We’d make dinner together and dance in the living room, go camping at the weekends and make love all night long”

“In another life?” he chuckles, warm and full, knowing he’ll dream about this for the rest of his life.

“In every life…If you’d find me”

“I’d find ya”

He runs her a bubble bath, still amazed and confused that he can, that they’ve spent months on the road starving and struggling and here there’s a pantry that has bubble bath. The flowers from Aarons front garden are perched in a glass of water by the bed, the lamps turned off and the doors are locked up as tight as they can be. He’s insistent that he shows his apology, but he’s never had a way to do it outside these walls, nothing beyond words and affection and his experience with what women might like is limited at best.

He stands in the doorway, watching as she wraps herself in a dressing gown. He wonders idly if the amount of love he feels for her could kill him; he feels it so deeply in his bones that he physically isn’t sure it should be able to fit inside of one person. He feels it explode warmth around his body when she shuffles forward to rest her head on his chest.

“You know you don’t have to do all of this? I’m not mad”

Later, when he’s apologised again, reassured her and comforted her and she’s convinced him he’s worth loving in return, he takes them both to bed. Touches her with soft, repentant hands that have always been gentle, hands that are gentle exactly because he knows how dangerous they can be. Atonement seeping from every inch of him as he inches home inside of her, cherishes the contended sigh she lets out at the feel of him. He could never hate her, not even if he tried.

He stills when he bottoms out, rests his forehead against hers as her hips press against his firmly, dragging him as deep as he can go.

“Wha’ ya see in me, anyway?” he whispers against her lips, full of self-doubt.

She looks into him with an intensity that almost hurts, brings her hands to the sides of his face, makes sure he believes her as sincerely as she believes his apology.

“Everything”

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blackbirdie1234 · 10 months ago

Note

Hey!! I love your fic's so much!

Can I request a Jacob x Fem!reader where they are friends but reader has a crush on Jacob. When he shifts he leaves and does what he did to Bella like ignoring her and Billy won't answer the door.

Mutual pinning but neither knows. He imprints on reader.

Thank you so much keep up the great writing :)

Also, I was wondering if you are going to be doing the vampires as well?

Hi!, Thank you so much for the request! I appreciate the kind words <3

I will be doing fanfics for the vampires as well! As of right now I only have the wolves, but I am planning on making a master list for the vamps and Bella. If you want to make a request for them I can definitely do that! I am planning on making a fic for Jasper soon!

A/N: Not proofread! I aged Jacob up a bit, you both are seventeen here. I didn't know exactly how to end this but I think I might do a spin-off series off of this fic so if you are interested in that let me know. Also, sorry for the late posting I am currently sick and going through it lmao. Hope you enjoy <3

Warnings: Jacob being an ass, cursing, angst, Y/N with a backbone.

Wolf’s Out Of The Bag

Jacob Black x Fem!reader

You were staring blankly down at your phone. Ten phone calls, ten phone calls sent to voicemail. Ten desperate, pleading voicemails. No callback, no text, nothing received. You snapped your phone closed and threw it down on the bed.

It had been two weeks since Jacob stormed off from your house after getting into a small disagreement, at least it started off that way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"It's nothing you need to worry about, Jacob," You grumbled with a slight roll of your eyes. Hoping he would drop the subject.

He was giving you an irritated look. You lightly pushed him with your shoulder giving him a small smile.

"I didn't think you'd care that much, it was one date and it's never happening again," you noted with a light-hearted laugh to ease the tension.

He turned to face you, irritation turning to anger. You could actually feel the heat radiating off of his body next to yours.

"Wow you must be really dumb, I mean how could you even think about going on a date with that pig. He's not good enough for you, but then again if you were desperate enough to give him a chance maybe I'm wrong" He barked getting more bitter with each word.

You look at him in shock.

"Why would you say that to me" You said not believing what you were hearing. "It's really none of your business who I go out with, you aren't my bodyguard, you don't have to 'protect' me. When did you get the right to decide who is 'good enough' for me? Huh? You're being a dick and I don't know why but it better change right now." You say sternly. He has never acted like this before and this sudden behavior change is not sitting well with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jacob left shortly after that. He had gotten so angry he was shaking, you can't even remember the words that were thrown after that. Now, he wasn't answering the phone. Billy said he came down with mono, you didn't know how much you believed it but decided to trust that Billy wouldn't lie to you.

Jacob was your best friend, you loved him a lot. You had never had such an intense fight, you never thought he would react the way he did. You only went on the stupid date to get Jacob out of your head, you thought that maybe you would get over Jacob if you found someone else to pay attention to. You were wrong, no one made you feel the way that Jacob did. Jacob made you feel at home, you couldn't explain why but it was like he was the person you were meant to be with. He was the one who understood you fully and would never judge you for anything you said or did. Until now......

You were deeply hurt by what Jacob said to you, and if he thought that you would get over it he was surely mistaken. He had never said anything more hurtful to you in your entire friendship. You had thought about just letting it go, letting life run its course even if it meant Jacob being out of your life, but you couldn't just sit and let him speak to you that way. You wanted answers. Sitting in your room waiting for him to call and explain was becoming too stressful. You sat there for hours overthinking and no matter what you were doing you were replaying the moment in your mind.

You must be going crazy. At least that's what you were trying to convince yourself after seeing Jacob cliff-jumping with Sam Uley and his gang. You had decided that you would go to La Push, and relax your body and mind on one of the only partly cloudy days in Forks. The skies were pretty clear but there was a storm coming soon, so you decided to do it now. Never in your life did you think you would see what you were seeing now. Are you fucking serious? was all you could think as you drove your car straight to Billy Black's house. You wanted to make sure it was really Jacob, so you went to the man who had told you how 'serious' his condition was in the first place.

As you pulled into the driveway the clouds began covering the sky in a dark grey mass. You hopped out of the car and began walking to the front door, Billy had opened the door as soon as you stepped onto the wood. His face had a mix of concern and confusion as he noticed your agitated expression and the way your chest was slightly heaving from anger.

"Where is he" you say with a grumble.

"He's not here, he went out," He says seriously but looking down a bit not wanting to make eye contact. Billy didn't like lying to you and to your face it was even worse.

Just as you were about to speak you looked to the side and saw that far away down the hill, Jacob stood playfully nudging another man as a few more came out of the woods.

"Don't Y/N" Billy said in warning.

You started stomping down the hill, ignoring Billy's yells. Billy calling your name caught the attention of Jacob, as his face shifted from laughing to completely still. You continued to walk towards Jacob as the rain started, it quickly went from a drizzle to full pouring as you finally reached him.

To say you were fuming would be an understatement.

"What the actual fuck Jacob!" you say basically screaming at the shirtless man, who was now staring directly into your eyes with what looked like pure amazement but you ignored it the best you could, whatever love for him you felt in that moment may have been strong but you were too angry to care so you continued.

"So we have one fight and you ignore me for two weeks?! I called you ten times, ten times Jacob. You couldn't bother picking up the phone at least once, you could've told me you didn't want to be friends but no! You had your daddy lie to me" You say with an angry laugh.

"I thought you were sick Jacob! Too sick to pick up the damn phone and text me! Come to find out you were just having too much fun cliff jumping with the guys we used to make fun of! You know what you can have them, If you want to throw away seventeen years of friendship then be my guest." You say finally taking a breath.

The weight off of your chest feels amazing, but as you finish Jacob falls to his knees. The boys behind him look between you two with pure shock on their faces before they start laughing and smiling. You look up at them shocked and confused thinking they were making fun of you. They start walking away but not before patting Jake on the back. Sam leans down and whispers something to him as he sits there still on his knees staring at you.

"Do you even care about a word I just said to you? You know what never mind if you think this is a joke I might as well leave," You say turning around and starting to walk away.

Jacob suddenly found his voice as he quickly got to his feet and stumbled trying to reach you.

"WAIT! Wait, wait, Y/N please hold on!" He spoke hurriedly. Grasping for your hand and pulling you around. Hand now resting on your waist.

"I am so, so sorry. Please let me explain everything, I promise I won't lie to you anymore. I can explain everything now, just come inside and dry off." He said pleadingly, trying his best to get you to listen to him.

You thought for a moment, you didn't trust him at all but the way he was speaking you knew he was telling the truth to some extent. It was hard for him to lie to you, you know how Jacob works, you know the subtle mannerisms he has when he's not telling the truth. Considering all of this you finally speak.

"Fine, but if things don't add up or I find out you are still lying, I am gone," You say sternly, pulling his hands away from you and walking up the hill.

When you get to the house, Jacob gives you warm tea and a blanket which you take from him without a word. He comes over and sits across from you. He almost reaches for your hand but stops himself.

"The day that I left your house, something changed, I changed...." He claimed, looking at your reaction with a hint of fear but continued "This is going to sound crazy, but you have to believe me on this..... I am a werewolf"

You stared at him for a moment before throwing the blanket off and standing up, Jacob followed suit immediately. You threw him a glare before starting to walk out.

"No, No, Y/N wait!" he shouted after you, reaching out and grabbing your hand. "I am telling the truth let me show you" He spoke as he continued outside your hand still in his.

" I swear Jacob if this is a pra....."

You went dead silent as he began taking his boots, and then his shorts off. Now standing in just his underwear. He gave you a curt nod and then started bending and shaking profusely. You could barely blink before your best friend stood in front of you only he wasn't human anymore, he was a massive wolf.

You jumped back a bit as the wolf started coming towards you, noticing your fear he slowly laid down on the ground and gave out a small whine to signal he would not hurt you. You were in complete shock, how was this possible? Everything you ever heard about the stories of the Quileute tribe growing up was true, and your best friend was living proof. A thousand thoughts ran through your mind, but they were silenced by the wolf standing up and trotting to the back of the house. Jacob then emerged in different clothes than before.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't tell you Y/N" Jacob expressed, grabbing your hands hesitantly until you leaned into the touch slightly.

"Why couldn't you tell me, you know I would never judge you, nor would I ever tell anyone " You pressed before giving him a confused stare "Wait why are you telling me now?"

He looked at you a gave you a crooked smile.

"It's one of the rules that came with the gig" He laughs a bit before pulling you a bit closer. "The reason I can tell you now is because you are my soulmate," He says beaming down at you.

You stare up at him with a bewildered expression.

"I'm your what?" you say breathing out.

"You are my imprint, Y/N. It's a wolf's soulmate, it is the reason for their existence, you feel like it isn't gravity holding you to the ground anymore, it's them. You can be anything the imprint wants you to be, a friend, a protector, a lover, all that matters is that the two are connected. Like vines on trees overlapping each other both on the same path, interlocked." He pauses, putting his hand on your face and caressing your cheek gently.

"I know this might be overwhelming and a lot to handle. I really want you to know how deeply sorry I am for everything that I said. I'm not going to sit here and blame it all on the wolf because it wasn't, I was jealous. I was jealous that you went on that date with someone that wasn't me and I didn't mean a word that I said about you. I'm going to be fully honest with you from now on, starting with the fact that I have been in love with you since the second grade. I know that trusting me will take time, but I am willing to do whatever it takes to earn it back. I understand that I have hurt you, so it might take a very long time but I will always be there for you. Everything is up to you, I understand if you want to reject the connection. The connection can be anything you want it to be, but I really truly do not want to lose you and the past two weeks without you have been hell on earth for me. I'm just really sorry Y/N." He pleads letting go of your hands and allowing you to process.

"I... I love you too Jacob. I have for a while now. I'm not going to forgive you easily but I am glad you understand how much you have hurt me. I am willing to give this a shot, mainly because I can feel the connection and would be an idiot if I said that I didn't." You laugh a bit as he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face.

"But if you ever say or do that to me again I will put you in a dog house and leave you there," You say with an evil smile laughing at the way his face drops before he joins in.

You two get out of the rain and drive separately to Emily's house where you meet the pack and they explain in much more detail what being a wolf really entails. You and Emily become quick friends, and as the days go on you slowly fall into a routine that is pure chaos but you wouldn't have it any other way. You and Jacob work on your relationship, slowly building back trust and falling deeper and deeper into love with each other. You have fully accepted your place in a world filled with wolves and life seems to be going great, that is until they tell you exactly why they turn into the big ferocious beasts....... there are vampires in Forks.

#jacob black #twilight saga #the twilight saga #twilight #twilight imagine #new moon #jacob x reader #jacob black x reader #jacob black x female reader #jacob black imagine #jacob black x you #twilight werewolves #twilight wolves #twilight wolfpack #forks washington

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hanrinz · 2 years ago

Text

YOU HAVE STOLEN MY HEART . . . ! blue lock men are all a loser clingy and desperate for your attention

✦°．feat : isagi yoichi, rin itoshi & nagi seishiro

✦°．notes. f! reader. fluff. ooc characters. so sorry for this and for not posting anything lately </3 i kinda went overboard with isagi lol.

RIN ITOSHI

he would literally throw hands at anyone if you don't stop talking to your phone right now. it's been exactly thirty-four minutes since you have chosen to talk to your old friend over him, your boyfriend—who clearly needs your undying love and attention.

(and yes he's been counting)

you were sitting in the living room, animatedly chatting with whoever lukewarm piece of shit you were talking to. laughing and smiling about something god knows what.

and he's checking on his phone, counting down the minutes and seconds passing by as you continue babbling on and on your old friend. he's now starting to hate this friend of yours. six more minutes and he gets you all to himself and he was selfish—always been and never changing—he wants you to just be beside him right now, he didn't just took off a day from his work just to have you taken away by someone else.

he decided six minutes was too long, why can't he have you now? without any second left to waste, he made his way to the couch, standing tall and glaring menacingly at your phone, as if it would melt away from your hands.

your eyes are now on him, you grace him with a much more radiant smile, with your eyes softly conveying 'you need anything?'

yeah, he definitely needs something. he needs you to hang up on your friend and spend time with him.

you noticed the look on his eyes and it made you laugh a little from his childish acts, jealousy does look kind of attractive on your boyfriend.

your little sudden chuckle had made the other side of the phone to ask you what was so funny? you shake your head as if he could see what you were doing, the conversation had turned dull and truly you only stayed for a couple more minutes out of courtesy, but you were dying to get away from him and just be with your beloved boyfriend.

rin couldn't take this long stupid call any longer—and as much as it was petty and silly, his patience has long been gone—he takes a seat beside you, the cushion dipping from his weight his arm coming round at the back of the couch as his other one takes the device out of your hands grunting out a, “she's busy, call her next time.” and ending the call right away, leaving no room for protest.

“rin-!” you whine, you look at him with disbelief following wuth a laugh as you type out a small apology to your old friend. tossing your phone on your side table not really waiting for a reply back.

not that you don't feel bad or anything, but you were thankful that the call had finally ended.

“you were taking too long,” he grumbled while he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you, dipping his head into the crook of your neck. “want you all to myself” he muttered on your skin, placing dot kisses along the crevices of your shoulders.

your arms now coming up to his neck as you play with the back of his hair caressing it the way he likes.

“stupid, 'm all yours.”

ISAGI YOICHI

holding your hands wasn't enough for him, well at least this very right moment. why aren't you focusing your eyes on him? is the person beside you that important? more important than him? he's sure not. just someone who wants your attention.

you were just too nice, too good for anything in this world. you were too good for him if he was being honest, someone who was way out of his league, he thinks. but, isagi yoichi is not a coward. he doesn't wait for anything or anyone and when he sets his eyes on something, he makes sure he gets it.

he tried being polite and patient with the person beside you. he really did.

but it was no use, not even the repeated mantra of “play nice” that he keeps saying on his head didn't help with the bubbling feeling welling up on his chest. it doesn't help that he notices the way the guy kept sitting closer to you and the way his eyes scans your body every passing second.

he hates it so much.

your boyfriend has never been one for violence, but he can make an exception right now. he doesn't notice the way his hands have tightened its grip with yours. catching your attention now from the sudden discomfort it causes you, breaking away from the conversation you were having, you looked at isagi with concern.

“yoichi, is everything okay?” you called out to him. he snaps away from his thoughts, replacing his hardened expression with a small smile in hopes of trying not to worry you.

“don't worry 'bout me, pretty,” he smiles, like he didn't just have any intentions of landing a punch to the guy you were talking to.

“you sure?” he only nods at your question. loosening the grip he has on your hands, but still firm as ever.

he knows he has to leave soon for the game and the thought of leaving you with this guy alone makes him go crazy. don't get him wrong, of course he trusts you with all of his heart.

the problem was the trash beside you, though he was more than willing to show how much he deserves your attention more.

“jus’ keep your eyes on me, yeah?” was all he says to you before he leaves.

the match starts, with isagi more than determined to score the first goal, maneuvering the ball with precision, getting behind the players and kicking with high accuracy, isagi scores the first kill.

he didn't care for the crowds uproar, nor the signal sound of the goal he just scored, not even the commentators voices, because what he needs to know is if you were looking at him. searching for your face at the sea of people in the vip section, your eyes meet. his heart kicks into overdrive, pride welling up on his chest as he returns the smile you wore on your face.

the guy beside you was left forgotten, he didn't fail to shoot him a look of abhorrent, secretly in the middle of the match.

and the team wasn't oblivious to the striker's jealousy, they saw it all, isagi couldn't give a damn if this was going to be used against him.

he won. isagi yoichi, the heart of blue lock won another match, dominating the game with fierce play. all he wanted to do was to come to you and have you all night to himself.

“isagi, is there a particular reason for your amazing play today?”

“isagi, how do you feel about today's match?”

“just one moment of your time, isagi!”

he ignores all the noise of the press, shooting up a tired look to rin hoping that the captain would handle all the troublesome questions. he didn't wait for an answer, already trudging back to the locker room.

and there you were waiting for him, all pretty and nice. he smiles to himself as he calls out for you.

raising your eyes in his direction, as you run up to him with a big smile “yoichi!”

he would really like to hug you right now, if not for the dripping sweat of his jersey. and he knows how much you don't like it. he settles for holding your hands instead, but this time your eyes were on him. not on that guy, not any of his teammates, not on anyone, but him.

he places a small tender kiss in your hands, with a tired grin on his face, a little drunk over you.

“was i good?” he whispers, pulling you closer to him.

and you wonder what has prompted this question by your boyfriend, but you don't dwell on it as much when he looks at you like a lovesick puppy.

“the very best, yoichi.”

NAGI SEISHIRO

a big baby who's stuck in a 6ft striker's body. why would you choose some little kid over him? don't you see he's so much better?

“what a bother,” he grumbles, clearly annoyed with the little kid who's been taking up your time in the arcade. he stands lazily by the side, seeing you helping a little kid who seems to be having a hard time winning in a game.

it all started when the two of you had planned out a day for a date, weeks of not being able to be together because of his game overseas.

and now that he gets the time to have you, a little pesky child just managed to snatch you away from his hands. a big pout was residing on his face, clearly he wasn't going to wait for you to come back to him.

arguably, he was being the child in this situation, giving sharp glares at the back of the head of the kid.

poor kid, who just wants to win a little plushie.

and what adds into his sour mood is when you tell him to go play some games to keep him busy while you help the small child.

you really expect him to go away from you and play all by himself? no way. you probably didn't get the notion that he needs you, when he plays all these stupid games. now he stands close by the claw machine, his arm folded on his chest, sighing loudly every minute, impatiently waiting for you.

you were terrible.

very horrible at claw machines, it comes to the point you have almost consumed half of your coins that were supposed to be for you and nagi. you really tried your best, feeling bad for the kid who asked you to help him get a gift for his little sister.

only left with frustrated sighs and disappointment, you turn to your sulking boyfriend by the side, who seems to light up from his sullen expression when you look at him. you flashed him a smile that looks a little strange, not the same ones that keeps his heart beating up and down or makes his ears aflare with redness.

no, you were asking for something. your eyes gesture the claw machine that you're struggling with, you didn't even have to beg, nagi has always been the one to fold for your wishes and bidding.

he was quick to get by your side and play on the controls, if getting this stupid plush penguin was to win you back he'll gladly get ten more of it.

and with just a few calculated flicks and timed clicks, he won. like he always seem to, when he's all fired up and determined.

“easy,” he muttered, as he drapes himself over you engulfing you in a warm embrace, as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo, placing a kiss in your hair in the process.

you laugh at him, letting yourself melt into his bear hug, your hands coming up to caress his snowy hair, “you still down for more, genius?”

“duh.”

you might have returned home with empty pockets and content hearts that day.

◞♡ likes & reblogs are highly appreciated! is it obvious i'm crazy for isagi?

#roses ‘r rosie #rin itoshi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #rin itoshi x you #yoichi isagi x reader #nagi x reader #nagi fluff #isagi fluff #rin fluff #nagi seishiro x you #blue lock headcanons #blue lock #bllk x reader

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keenvictory · 9 months ago

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Synopsis: Cove is already pretty clingy. But you wearing his clothes drives him crazy. (NSFW drabble)

: ̗̀➛ Featured Characters: Cove Holden x Gn!Reader

̗̀➛ Content Warnings: Minor possessive talk, mostly he's just a clingy loser.

̗̀➛ Additional notes: A finished post? My word! Finally putting my near 400 our life hours to use. I hope to post more soon. Leave me some requests for ideas if you'd like!

Nobody you know would call Cove possessive. He's beyond secure in your relationship by now, you've known each other for years upon years. Nobody on earth could even attempt to take his place in your life.

He sulks a little when something or someone steals your attention away for a long time. Jokingly complains about your coworkers getting to see more of you then he does when long hours keep you away from each other.

He's clingy, certainly. Spoiled? Absolutely. But possessive? He couldn't be. Well... That's not quite true. Cove would be lying if there wasn't a small, carnal part of him, deep deep down, that absolutely adored you belonging to him, and him to you in turn.

The feelings oh so rarely rear their ugly head, he almost forgets they're there at all. Until he sees you draped across the couch on a lazy Sunday morning, bundled up in his pajamas. Wearing his clothes has always done something insatiable to him, no matter the size difference. Whether his shirt pools around your tummy or hugs your waist tight, his cock pulses with a dreadful, needy rhythm.

You have to be aware. Right? Of course you know what it does to him. Every moment with you is heavenly, but you have to have noticed the way he squirms every time you stretch back and his shirt dips and pulls. You have to have noticed the way he fucks you far too energetically for a lazy morning, groping your chest through the soft material of the t-shirt. Surely, surely you've realized he all too often "forgets" to put your laundry in the washing machine with his own, lending you his clothes out of the lustful kindness of his heart? Whether you know what it does to him or not hardly matters, because Cove is there within moments, curling up beside you on the couch. Pressing his face against your neck, his long fingers tracing the slope of your thigh. "Cove?" You ask sweetly, putting whatever it was you were doing aside. "Do you need something?"

God he loves it when you say his name. The needy ache in him only gets worse, he tries to push your bodies flush together, almost grinding the tent in his pants against your hip. He's never been the best at initiating sex, his mind gets so hazy and the words don't come to his lips.

Not that he always minds, he hardly knows what to say ever, and there are much better uses for his mouth. Like now, as he presses gentle kisses to your neck in place of answering. He toys with the idea of nipping at the sweet skin there, leaving a little mark for later. But he's already so restless seeing a bruise he left marking you as his might have him cumming in his pants, and he really can't do that again.

"My love," You purr, and a sharp shock of want pierces through him. He bucks his hips against you, desperate. "Use your words. What do you want?" What does he want? To bend you over the sofa and fuck you senseless, possibly. To burn all the other clothes on the planet so you always have to prance around in his pjs. To make you cum over and over until you're as restless and needy as he feels. But mostly importantly, most senselessly.

"I want you."

#our life #our life beginnings & always #cove holden #cove holden x reader #cove our life #cove x reader #cove x mc #olba #cove holden x you #cove holden x mc #replaying our life for the 17th-ish time and i had. ideas #ty cove for making me write again

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r2d2lover · 1 month ago

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Extra Credit

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.69k (im so sorry)

Warnings: first time blow job, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, F/M, cunnilingus, fingering, aged-up characters, Hogwarts Uni AU

Summary:

Fed up with being romantically inept, you ask your childhood best friend, Fred Weasley, for some help.

Despite his reputation, Fred was quite the studious reader. He was always in the heart of the common room on a weekend, buried in a book about tricks, potions, and temporary charms. He was a man of research and if he found something that needed testing, he would contact you. You had been his most trusted scientific confidant since your childhood years and now in post-secondary school, the two of you were ever the academics. Fred and George disguised their penchant for shenanigans through their potioneering concentration and fortunate for them, you were naturally gifted from the amount of times you want to defy your old potions professor. However, while post-secondary school had been kind, you felt yourself lacking knowledge in a different area of life: romance.

You seemed to be the only one amongst your friends to be completely unskilled in the art of love. While your friends seemed to effortlessly navigate the waters of dating and relationships, you felt like you were drowning in a sea of awkwardness and uncertainty. Sure, you tried when you were younger, but time and opportunity eluded you. You were always too focused on your own agency or helping the twins pull off some prank. There wasn’t a single boy who caught and held your attention like Fred or George. You finally decided one night to take the plunge and join the sexual fray by asking Fred to help you out. You leveraged in your mind it was an educational opportunity that would only happen once. Fred was a frequent flier, as you had heard him described, around school, so you figured that not only would he have the experience, but it would be as casual as his other flings.

It was during one of your late-night study sessions with Fred that you finally decided to broach the subject. The common room was empty save for the two of you, the crackling fire casting a warm glow over the scattered parchments and open books.

"Fred," You began hesitantly, setting down your quill. The sound of the cracking embers saved you from any awkward silence. "Can I ask you something... personal?"

"Of course. What's on your mind?" Fred looked up from his book on temporary transfiguration charms, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. You took a deep breath, feeling your cheeks grow warm. He put his book down when he clocked your growing fluster.

"How do you... I need to ask you something. Er… a favor?” You shifted your weight nervously, which only added to the glee in Fred’s face. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and stretching his arms behind his head. His smirk only grew wider.

“I love an opportunity for quid pro quo. What do you have in mind, princess?” Fred kept his lazy demeanor. Your stomach continued to bubble over from the nerves. You couldn’t believe you were actually going to ask him for this. Fred’s eyes followed you closely, especially when you swallowed thickly before speaking.

"Um, well...it's a chance to learn something new? An educational opportunity," You stumbled over your words, desperately trying to delay the inevitable. Fred gave you a quizzical look, silently urging you to elaborate with another raise of his eyebrows. "I...okay, fine. Teach me how to use my mouth."

“Well, I think you have enough wit for the both of us and I know you and Cedric love to catch a snog-”

“No. Not like that,” The words felt like defeat as they left your lips. You curled your fingers in a nauseating mixture of fear and excitement. You leaned closer on the table and dropped your voice to a whisper. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Oh… Oh!” Fred’s eyes flashed with realization. He stood up from his chair too quickly, causing it to topple over and sent him crashing to the floor. You let out a gasp as Fred laughed and stayed on the ground. You reached out with a trembling hand to help him up, but he took advantage of the situation by pulling you down on top of him. “Are you... sure? Are you serious?”

“This is mortifying enough. Forget I said anything. It was, uh, a dare!” Your cheeks burned with humiliation while you scrambled to your feet. Fred let out another laugh and stood up without your help. Before you could flee, Fred grabbed your arm and trapped you against his body. He was absolutely drinking in your flustered state.

“Woah, hey, where do you think you’re going? A dare? Nice try; You’re an awful liar,” Fred chuckled. He licked his lips in pure entertainment and you swore you saw his eyes darken. “I’ll teach you. I never said I wouldn’t.”

“I made a mistake. I don’t want this to make things weird between us,” You shake your head as if trying to clear your second thoughts, your first thoughts, and any thoughts, really. Fred took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping your head back so you looked up at him. Your mouth ran dry as you met his mischievous gaze. It was no secret that Fred was wildly attractive or that he was the object of affection for any girl in your cohort. You never thought you’d be seeing your childhood best friend in such light, but with the offer you just made, you tipped the two of you into an irreversible grey area.

“It’s only weird if you don’t enjoy it and I am a very good teacher,” Fred practically purred into your ear. Your breath hitched as Fred's lips brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn’t deny the fire building in your stomach that was beginning to temper your nausea. You couldn't believe this was happening, that you had actually asked him for this, and that he had agreed. “And I can’t pass up an educational opportunity. Especially not to you.”

"So, um, how do we... start?" You asked hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. Fred pulled back slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief and something darker.

"Well, first things first," Fred said, his voice low and husky. "We need a more private location. My room should do nicely."

Before you could protest, Fred had taken your hand and was leading you up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Your heart pounded in your chest with each step and your mind followed suit, racing with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Once inside, Fred closed the door behind you with his foot and pushed you roughly against the wall. This was really happening.

“Stop me at any point, princess,” Fred trailed his lips from your ear lobe down to your jaw. He had you trapped against the door with a hand by your head and his knee planted against your thighs. He was skilled, as you had thought, and instead of feeling anxiety, you felt a strange sense of comfort. Your knees buckled as you felt his body heat envelop yours.

“Y-yes,” You said softly, nearly whimpering as you tried to restrain your hips from bucking into Fred’s leg. You felt ridiculous at your rampant desperation and tried miserably to keep your composure. Fred was delighted. He captured your lips into his and you sank into his plush warmth. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer to deepen the kiss. Despite the rational side of you telling you to stop kissing your best friend, the deliciously irrational side was indulging in how kissing Fred felt like an electric current. His free hand snaked to your waist, gentle yet firm with possession.

As your tongues tangled, you savored the taste of Fred's lips, tinged with the subtle flavor of mint from the gum he had been chewing earlier and a general candied sweetness. The mint mixed with his wild scent of firewood smoke and woody cologne, driving you absolutely insane. You tilted your head back without any protest to allow Fred access to your neck. He deftly nipped at the sensitive skin between your neck and jaw, drawing out your whimpers even more. Your hands dragged slowly from his neck down to his broad chest until they finally landed hooked in his belt loops. You ghosted your hands over the free edge of his trousers, mindlessly tracing the space between his pants and boxers. You moved your hand down further, gently teasing his growing bulge. Fred grunted with frustrated desire and sucked down on your neck hard.

You blindly tugged at his belt with a matched desperation to free him. Fred's hands quickly joined yours, fumbling with his belt buckle in a frantic rush. As it finally came loose, you yanked it free and tossed it aside, the metal clinking as it hit the floor. Your fingers trembled as you worked on the button of his jeans, while Fred's mouth continued its assault on your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses.

"Merlin, I've wanted this for so long. You are… unreal," Fred breathed against your skin, his voice strained with need. You thought he was speaking out of desire, for there was no way your childhood friend thought of you the same way you did him. He worked the buttons of your blouse loose and he couldn’t help himself from tearing his mouth away from your body to savor the sight. Before you could fully undo his jeans, he placed an imposing hand over yours. “Ah, ah. Your lesson begins here. Get on your knees.”

With an obedience purely fueled by desperation, you nodded at Fred while looking up at him through your eyelashes. You dropped to your knees while keeping your hands on his hips. A small part of you wanted to impress him, so you finally tugged his jeans and boxers off in one go.

“Eager student, aren’t you? Very Ravenclaw of you,” Fred grinned with a humored sarcasm. With a strange fondness, he caressed your cheek before raking his fingers through your hair so that he could gather it all back into a firm hold. You looked at his member nervously, trying to keep your eyes from widening. You realized that his “object of affection” went further than his whimsical looks and personality.

"Don't worry, love. We'll take it slow," Fred chuckled softly at your hesitation, but still he reassured you, his voice throaty with desire. You tentatively reached out, wrapping your fingers around his impressive length. Fred inhaled sharply at your touch, his grip tightening in your hair. Emboldened by his reaction, you began to stroke him slowly, marveling at the velvet-soft skin over steel hardness. "That's it. Now, use your mouth. Just the tip at first."

Heart racing, you leaned forward and took him between your lips. Fred groaned deeply, his hips jerking slightly. His fingers flexed tightly against your scalp. The salty taste of him filled your senses as you swirled your tongue experimentally. Your mind raked through what your friends had told you before and how to proceed. You leaned forward, taking more of him into your mouth while keeping your eyes trained on him for reaction. You hollowed your cheeks to apply a gentle suction as you began to bob your head. Fred’s hips twitched, fighting the urge to thrust. Instead, he tightened his grip on your hair and guided your movements that way. His free hand caressed your cheek, thumb brushing over your stretched lips. It seemed as if he couldn’t believe the situation either.

“You… you don’t seem to need lessons,” Fred hissed. You kept looking up at him, utterly fascinated by his reaction. You were enjoying the way you were making him come undone. “Mmm, move your hand down… Merlin, just like that. Good girl.”

You obeyed, sliding your hand down to the base of his shaft as you continued your ministrations with your mouth. His words caused you to moan around him. You dragged a cupping hand over the furthest part of his manhood, which made Fred throw back his head with the loudest groan by far. Fred's breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving as he fought to maintain control. The grip in your hair tightened further, almost to the point of pain, but the discomfort only fueled your arousal.

"Fuck," Fred groaned, his voice strained. "You're a natural, love. But if you keep this up, I won't last much longer."

Encouraged by his words, you redoubled your efforts, taking him deeper into your throat. You gagged slightly but with his guidance, you were determined to bring him pleasure. Fred's hips began to move more insistently, setting a rhythm that you eagerly matched.

"I'm close," Fred warned, his voice trembling with a moan. "You don't have to--"

You had no intention of stopping. You attempted to swallow what you could around him and Fred’s eyes squeezed shut tight. Humming in acknowledgement, Fred twitched at the vibration. With a hand around his shaft and the other at his sack, you could feel him close to ending the lesson you begged for. In one swift movement, Fred's hand reached up and grabbed your hair, pulling you away from his manhood. Your eyes widened in surprise and your gaze met his intense, dark eyes. Your gag was replaced with a gasp while you forgot how to breathe. Fred breathing was just as heavy and ragged as yours while he tried to regain his composure. His messy red hair clung to his aroused perspiration. He looked down at the sight of you on your knees, a small smile peeking through the corner of his lips.

“Is something wrong? Fred-”

“I want to keep going. I don’t want to finish here, but Merlin, you are gorgeous,” Fred panted. You gave a wide eyed nod while Fred yanked you up. “It’s not fair that you’re basically fully clothed.”

“An easy fix,” Your voice was still hoarse from the earlier intrusion, but it didn’t distract you from fully shedding your clothes. Fred leaned foward to reseek your mouth and took your distraction as an opportunity to push you back into his bed. “Is this taking it too far?”

“Only if you think so,” Fred moved a gentle hand down towards your breasts, indulging himself in the soft mound of skin. Fred's eyes darkened with desire as he gazed down at your naked form. “Do you want to stop?”

"No, god, no,” You mewled. “This is… extra credit.”

“Mmm, extra credit,” Fred removed his mouth from your neck to laugh at your remark. You arched into his touch, craving more.

"Please, Fred," You whimpered. You encouraged him by dragging your foot up against his thigh, pulling him closer with just your foot.

"Patience, love. I want to savor every inch of you," Fred chuckled against your skin again. “And I have to give you an ‘A’ for your earlier performance. This is just a testament to your good work.'“

True to his word, Fred took his time exploring your body with his lips and fingers. He lavished attention on your breasts, teasing your nipples to stiff peaks. His mouth blazed a trail down your stomach, pausing to dip his tongue into your navel. When he finally reached the apex of your thighs, you were trembling with need. Fred's hot breath ghosted over your most sensitive areas and he was having as much fun as you were.

“I can’t… Stop teasing, please… Fred-” You whined pathetically as you bucked your hips up, desperate for friction. Fred only tsked and held you down with more conviction. His fingers traced delicate patterns on your inner thighs, sending shivers through your body. You squirmed beneath him, desperate for more contact. Fred's lips curled into a mischievous smile as he watched you writhe. Finally relenting, Fred lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss on your most sensitive spot. You gasped at the sensation, your back arching off the bed. Encouraged by your reaction, Fred's tongue began to explore, alternating between long, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks.

Your hands found their way into Fred's hair, gripping tightly as waves of pleasure washed over you. Fred's fingers joined his mouth, slowly pushing inside you as his tongue’s pace continued. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as Fred’s mouth and fingers worked their magic. You wailed out an incoherent string of his name slathered with curses. You managed a peak at the mess of red hair between your thighs, only to be met with the cheeky smirk of a man drunk with desire. His smile is smug and glistening with your arousal, which only makes you arch your back higher.

You surrendered yourself to the pleasure, a symphony of sounds and sensations that left you breathless and flushed with desire. A tightness built in your stomach and you voiced your climbing pleasure by tugging at Fred’s hair. Painfully, though you did not know which party it hurt more, Fred removed his mouth and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked nothing short of animalistic and he looked at you with primal pleasure. He helped himself up and kissed you again deeply, slowly lining himself up with you. You whimpered into the kiss, tasting a remnant of yourself on his lips as you felt the heat of him pressing against your entrance. Fred broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he locked eyes with you. His gaze was intense, filled with a mixture of lust and something deeper, more tender.

"Ready, love?" Fred murmured, pressing his forehead against you. You nodded frantically, beyond words at this point. Fred slowly pushed forward, stretching you deliciously as he entered. You both groaned in unison at the sensation, your bodies finally joining as one. Fred stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, his arms trembling slightly with the effort of restraint. You were beside yourself at this point.

"Move," You pleaded, rolling your hips to encourage him. Fred didn't need to be told twice. He began to thrust, starting with slow, deep strokes that had you gasping for air at each movement. In the dim light of the room, you could see the muscles on Fred’s back ripple as he moved, his body glistening with sweat. The veins on his neck bulged with exertion while his face was a mix of concentration and pleasure. The scent of sweat and sex mixed together, a heady aroma that filled the room and only made you dizzy with further desire. Your lips parted as you panted for air, tasting the sweetness of Fred's kiss still lingering on your tongue. You pulled his head back down to feel his lips again. The rhythmic sounds of skin against skin and heavy breathing filled the room, accompanied by the occasional moan or whimper of pleasure. Each thrust from Fred brought a new wave of pleasure, leaving you crying for wanting more.

Fred’s skin was hot against yours, his strong hands gripping onto your hips as he thrust into you. Your skin tingled with each movement, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Your fingers dug into the sheets beneath you, providing an anchor from falling off the edge too quickly.

“You’re so good, princess. You’re an addiction,” Fred languished in your ear. “How badly have you wanted me? I want to hear you say it.”

“Forever… Merlin, I’ve had a crush on you forever. I’ve wanted this- for so long- ah!” You struggled with your words as your mind began to turn white hot with ecstasy. While you would’ve said anything to secure your release, you were wretchedly honest. Fred bit back a smirk while he snapped his hips with much slower pace.

“Music. To. My. Ears,” Fred grunted with each movement of his hips. You began chanting his name again and clawed at his chest to stay grounded, but you had already begun to slip. “Come undone, princess. I want to see you make a mess of yourself. Because of me.”

Your body obeyed his command, trembling uncontrollably as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Fred's name fell from your lips in a breathy moan as your entire body lifted off of the bed. Your vision blurred, overwhelmed by the intensity of your release. Fred groaned deeply, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own climax.

"That's it, love. You're so beautiful like this," Fred heaved, his voice shaky with desire. As you came down from your high, Fred captured your lips in a searing kiss. In the moment, he pulled out and spilled himself onto your stomach with a labored breath. He collapsed next to you in exhaustion, begging for a second to recapture his thoughts.

While Fred helped you clean yourself of him and in the midst of redressing, a small sense of dread replaced the crashing adrenaline. You couldn't help but wonder if this was just a one-time thing for Fred and how it would affect the next day, hell, even the next five minutes. The thought made your chest tighten with anxiety. As if sensing your unease, Fred pulled you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, love?" Fred murmured, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin.

"I just... I don't want this to be a mistake. For you, I mean," You croaked with a new sense of clarity. Fred's eyes widened in surprise before softening with understanding. He cupped your face in his hands, his gaze intense and sincere.

"Listen to me, princess. This could never be a mistake. I've wanted you for so long, I can hardly believe this is real. If we make this work, it won’t change what we had," Fred assured with another kiss. He flattened your mussed hair and looked at you teasingly. “And if anything, this was just an education opportunity, right?”

“It was a good class,” Your heart fluttered from Fred’s reassurance. “Is there any homework I need to catch up on?”

“Oh, today was just an introduction to the syllabus, princess,” Fred bit his lip devilishly. “Ready for lesson two?”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley #fred weasley fic #Fred weasley x you #Fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley oneshot #hp smut

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crljhnn · 2 years ago

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Math tutor

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader

Summary: Rodrick is continuously unsuccessful in asking you out, so when he finds out that you are now tutoring his younger brother he decides to use this to his advantage. The only problem, Greg doesn't play along.

No physical description of the reader; No use of y/n

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: None

>Posted on AO3 as well<

“So that means x equals 9.” The answer comes out more like a question.

You've been tutoring Greg for about three weeks now and he finally, for the first time since starting this school year, seems to understand what is going on during math class.

“Yes, that’s right!”

“Really?”

While Greg wasn’t the first Heffley you ever tutored, he was the first to actually listen to what you said and process your explanations.

A few years ago you were taking the same math class as his older brother Rodrick who, back then, quite literally begged you to give him some tutoring lessons. While you didn’t like the idea of spending extra time at school to teach someone math, him apparently being so desperate for help, tugged at your heartstrings, making you give in.

On top of that, him being kind of cute and your teeny-tiny crush on him helped convince you as well. However, this adoration you harbored for about three months at that point, died about 5 minutes into your session.

He was barely paying attention to what you were saying, focusing more on drumming his pencils on the edge of the desk while humming along, using every breath you took to change the subject, mostly telling you about this little band of his. The straw that broke the camels back was when he dared to ask why you wanted to end the session only 15 minutes in, following it up with a „That was fun, let’s study together again soon!“.

Since you felt rather disrespected by that, you haven’t really spoken to him since. The highest form of communication was a forced smile when he would greet you in the hallway. You don’t have any common classes anymore.

However, your fiasco concerning Rodricks tutoring lessons didn’t stop his mom from asking you to tutor her younger son who, unsurprisingly, was falling behind in math as well. The significant difference this time was, that you were being paid. So even if Greg turned out to be just as uninterested in what you were saying as his older brother, it wouldn’t be a complete waste of time, at least for you.

That’s how you ended up in the local library every Monday and Wednesday for the last few weeks, explaining math to the younger brother of your former crush.

Today was different though. Since the library had to close down for a week, because of renovations, you decided to meet at the Heffleys house instead.

The last thing Rodrick expected, when he went downstairs to raid the fridge for snacks, was finding his crush of 3 years sitting in his living room.

Having his eyes fixed on you, he misses the last step, causing him to stumble, managing in the last second to grasp the railing to stop himself from face-planting. The result was him reaching the end of the stairs with a loud crash.

“You surely know how to make a remarkable entrance.”

“Haha yeah, hi.” He nervously scratches the back of his head “What are you… hah… what are you doing here?” ‘Stay cool Rodrick, you got this!’

“What does it look like? She’s tutoring me dumbass” The oldest Heffley son honestly didn’t even realize his younger brothers presence until he spoke up.

“Ah cool, so uhm good luck?” With another awkward laugh, he turns around and runs back upstairs.

Back in his room, he begins to panic, if he would have known that you were here he would have prepared better. But he’s sure he can still wing it.

First of all, he’s calling the band over for practice, I mean, he has his own band, chicks dig that.

He has it all planned out in his head, he will put on nice clothes, a nice perfume, and maybe even a bit of eyeliner as well, surely you’re into that. Then he’s gonna go downstairs, let his band in, and have a little jamming session with the boys.

Then there are two possible ways how the plan could continue to play out.

Possibility one, you hear his band playing from the living room and are so impressed that you just have to go and get a closer look. After that, he is going to invite you to sit in on practice for a bit longer. At the end of the session mesmerized will be an understatement to describe your state of mind and you won’t even have to think about it twice when he finally asks you out on a date.

The second possible outcome of you hearing him play is that you, while amazed, are still too shy to come up to him, so he will take a little break to get himself something to drink. Like one of those movie cliches, he’s gonna come in all sweaty, taking a sip of water and then emptying the rest of the bottle over his face and body to ‚cool himself down. Women find that hot, right? You definitely won’t be able to take your eyes off of him then.

While he is daydreaming about you drooling over him, he simultaneously digs through his closet, trying to find this one specific band shirt, that he bought after overhearing you gushing about their newest album. At the same time as he finds it, he hears his friends pull up, making him change in record speed while leaving his room to go back downstairs.

“Oh my god thank you for finally changing your shirt, the last one was smelling disgusting after you’ve been wearing it for like two weeks straight.” Greg had picked up on Rodricks crush on his tutor instantly, quickly deciding that using this new information to mess with him is the best form of revenge for the years of torture his brother put him through.

“Ugh shut up.” He turns to you “He’s lying you know. I change my clothes an appropriate amount of times. I actually just got ready for band practice. You remember me telling you about my band right? The boys are gonna be here any minute now.” He tries to be casual by leaning against the railing of the stairs but ends up stumbling instead.

“Yeah, I remember,” You don’t seem too happy about it though “But why do you have your shirt on backwards?”

Rodricks head snaps down. Fuck. Greg giggles. An awkward silence follows.

He's saved by the doorbell ringing, followed by the other Löded Diaper members walking in.

“Hi bro!”

“Yo Rodrick!”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Why do you have your shirt on backwards?”

This time it’s you who giggles.

Sensing how embarrassed their band founder is, the boys take pity on him and rush him away.

After Rodrick explained his plan to his friends, resulting in him getting hyped up by them, they played for a while. After about 30 minutes he concludes that you won’t make the first move, which brings him to execute plan B of his strategy: to take matters into his own hands.

“You got this man!” He jogs back towards the living room, expecting to find you and his younger brother still studying but instead, he is greeted with Greg sitting in front of the tv playing video games.

“Oh is your tutoring session over already?” He tries to sound unbordered but fails horribly.

“Yeah you know I found it really hard to concentrate with this loud music, so we cut today short.” Greg grins up at the oldest Heffley child.

“Listen up you little shit-” he doesn’t finish his sentence. Maybe he could use Gregs help for his own benefit since you always seem to flee when he tries to make a move. It was the same a few years ago.

He had it all planned out back then as well. First, he was gonna ask you out for a study date, well that didn’t quite work out and it ended up more like a tutoring session. However, the result was that you two were spending some alone time together, so you could say that he roughly reached his initial goal. At least he counted it as a success.

Then Rodrick was going to make you fall for him. And how was he gonna do that? By impressing you of course. And what is the best way to impress a girl? Being in a band! Easy.

Well, that didn’t work out, driving you away even further. So maybe he could use his younger brother to get some inside info on what you like in men and what makes you fall for them.

Rodrick is fast to lay out his new plan to Greg.

“And why would I assist you with that? What is in it for me?” As expected, he is not exactly keen on helping his older brother out. So threatening it is.

“Cause if you don’t, you will regret it.” Greg is about to refuse again when he gets an idea. This would be the perfect way to get revenge on Rodrick. He is just gonna spin around everything you say and make his older brother ruin every chance he's ever had with you.

“Alright fine, I’ll do it.”

—

“Okay spit it out!” You and Greg are seated at your usual table at the library “You haven’t been able to sit still since you got here, what’s wrong?”

“I have a question.” He is not looking at you.

“Okay shoot!”

Greg has been thinking about how to interrogate you about your type without raising suspicions since the day he agreed to help Rodrick. “So there is this girl I kind of like and I wanted to ask you for advice. If a guy would want to go out with you, what would he need to do to stir your interest?”

“Well, every girl is different so-”

“Yeah but what about you?”

That confuses you a bit, but Greg asking you for girl advice was cute enough for you to not overanalyze it further.

“Well me personally, I like sweet and considerate guys,…”

—

“So what did she say?!” Rodrick was waiting for his younger brother at the front door, attacking him with questions as soon as he was close enough to hear.

“Calm down! So first of all she said, that she likes assholes you know, just your typical badboy!”

—

“…you know, the kind of guy who listens to what you have to say and really values your opinion. I want someone who actually hears what I say and shows that he is interested in me as a person...”

—

“She wants someone who is just a natural leader, an alpha, someone who makes decisions for her and shows dominance by interrupting her frequently. Also don’t seem too eager, she said she finds that overwhelming and just too much. Play it cool, act like you don’t care.”

—

“… so that means I also prefer deeper compliments, not just about my looks. Of course, it's nice to be called pretty every once in a while, but there is nothing worse than a guy repeatedly telling you how attractive you are, without ever appreciating anything else about you! Like is that the only thing about me that you like, my looks?…”

—

“She also likes to be complimented about her looks a lot, the more the better. Don’t even bother with any other kinds of compliments. ”

—

“… And lastly, never compliment a woman by putting other women down. The whole ‘Oh you're just not like other girls’ thing is deeply rooted in misogyny. It’s never a flattering compliment when it's only working because you are putting someone else down.”

—

“And lastly, she wants to feel special, you know, the best compliments include a comparison, for example, tell her how she is prettier than other women!”

Rodrick was hastily writing everything down.

“Thank you so much, I owe you!”

“No problem”

—

While you forgot about Gregs weird behavior as soon as you go back to explaining math, you are reminded of it again later, when he asks you to have your next session at his house, without giving an actual reason.

The weirdness reached its peak when he, shortly after you arrived at his house the next week, excused himself to quote ‘Look for, uh… you know,… a thing? That’s in my room’, then went to the bathroom instead, and ‘coincidentally’ as soon as he left his older brother showed up.

“Heyyy what’s up?” Rodrick mentally revises the list he learned by heart last night.

‘Be an asshole’ he kicks your water bottle that was standing next to you, “Oops…”

“Rodrick what the fu-”

‘Show dominance’

“Pick it up!”

“Excuse me? What is wrong wit-”,

‘Act like you don’t care’

“Quit talking like I care about what you have to say, what was your name again?”

“Wh- We both know that you know my name, what the fu-”,

‘Compliment her looks’

“You’re hot!”

And lastly, ‘Make her feel special by comparing her to other women’

“Especially compared to the other girls at school”.

A perfect delivery. He did everything that Greg told him to do. But why did you seem so angry? You looked like you were ready to swing at him.

That’s when he saw it. His shitty little brother was watching the interaction through the slightly opened bathroom door, holding a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. When he catches Rodricks eye he slams the door shut.

“I’m gonna kill you!” He is sprinting towards the room his brother is hiding in, banging his fists against the door.

“What the fuck is going on?” You haven’t been so confused in a long time. That’s when it clicked for you too. That’s why Greg was acting so weird, that’s why he asked about YOUR dating preferences specifically. He asked for advice for Rodrick but must have messed with his brother, based on the older ones reaction.

“Rodrick, were you trying to hit on me?” Your voice is heavily laced with disbelief.

The boy stopped his obnoxious assault on the door.

“Did it work?”

You barely hold in your laugh. “Sure.”

“Wait really?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Your smile is kinder now, finding this side of Rodrick, where he is eager to appeal to you, really endearing. Shit, are your feelings for him coming back? You definitely were completely over your crush before, so how did he so easily wrap you around his finger again?

“I would have never guessed that you out of all people were into me, you know, after the little stunt you pulled a while ago.”

“What do you mean?” Rodrick is confused, when did he do something that made you believe that he wasn’t interested in you?

“Our tutoring session? When you completely disrespected me by not even listening to me after you were the one to ask for help.”

“I was listening to you! It's just hard to concentrate when you are so… you! And your voice is so…” Wow he just has this way with words “And I didn't intend for it to be actually studying when I ask you. I just wanted an excuse to hang out with you, maybe impress you a bit, my band being the impressive part by the way, and then later ask you out on a date.” He scratches the back of his head sheepishly.

“And this little scene that played out just now, I guess that was Gregs doing?”

“Yes, since it didn’t work out the last two times I tried to get you to go out with me, I thought this was the best way to do it.”

Oh, your crush was definitely back, and bigger than ever at that.

“Well you never actually asked me out, maybe that would have been enough.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know, guess you have to ask to find out.”

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #fem!reader #diary of a wimpy kid #fluff #oneshot #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #no use of y/n

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wibben · 1 month ago

Text

As Stars Go By

You and Choso thoroughly enjoy your first vacation together up in the mountains.

↳ pairing: boyfriend! choso kamo x afab! reader

↳ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, sub! choso, sex (p in v), creampie, breeding if you squint, choso is a real sweetie pie, established relationship, whimpering, pathetic male mess! choso, art by @/yume041624

↳ wc: 7,233

↳ notes: this was posted on my ao3 quite a while ago, but I've finally decided to make my first foray into tumblr! So this is a cross post but nonetheless I hope you enjoy, and bear with me while I figure this whole thing out <3 tagging: @jasminelee324 , @verydreamerfairy I hope I did that right, feeling a bit grandma-esque here.

“—You were right, it’s kinda cold, huh—”

“—let me take you inside—”

“— like hell we’re going inside already.”

You press yourself closer to Choso's side, knees hiked up to your chest as you lean into the warmth of his arm. The uneven bumps of the grass beneath the picnic blanket serve as the perfect excuse to nestle even closer, shifting your weight onto your hip and burrowing into his flank so that you’re pointedly squished hip to hip. Glued, unmoving, decidedly not going inside.

This trip had been in the making for a while—a sweet escape to a cabin in the mountains. The epitome of rustic charm , complete with an authentic outdoor shower, access to a serene lake at the foot of your mountain retreat, miles of scenic hiking trails, and an unparalleled view of the stars. Each detail meticulously planned, every moment a step closer to this perfect getaway that you’ve been dreaming of for months.

It was going to be perfect. A slice of heaven on earth, really. The antithesis of the bustling city you both so desperately needed a break from.

The only problem?

You envisioned this place in the summer to properly enjoy your itinerary. Instead, you now watch as blue frost ensnares dew-kissed blades of grass around your blanket, winter’s chill stealthily settling around you and clouding your breath with every disgruntled exhale.

A booking error, they told you. A glitch in the system; but not to worry. You weren’t eligible for a refund, but you were welcome to reschedule—if you didn’t mind the year and a half long waitlist for another chance to disappear from the world together.

But you minded. A lot . You spent too long coordinating this trip. Time off and away from the usual commitments that chain you to everyday life, the mental ticking countdown to the day you finally get to leave. You couldn’t bear to push it off; and you would rather die than see the kicked-puppy look on Choso’s face if you were forced to tell him your vacation was canceled. You and Choso were going on vacation, and that was final—sacrificing a few toes to the cold was a small price to pay.

The outdoor shower was out of the question, and so was the lake, half-slush and uninviting. But the stars? Those weren’t going anywhere.

“I kind of forgot stars existed,” you muse softly.

Choso hums in acknowledgment beside you, his hand rubbing firmly up and down your arm, generating a fire-starting friction to keep you warm.

You continue. “It's like... all the planes, and towers, and cars back home, y'know? I swear—when I was a kid, I saw them every night. Not really sure when they disappeared. I don’t think I ever noticed, never mind really missed it until now. You know?” With your head resting against his shoulder, you can feel the slow rise and fall of his chest, hear the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. It makes you feel warmer too, even if only just.

The silence that follows is a comfortable, familiar companion. Choso has always been a man of few words, but you know he listens intently to every word you say, his attention filling the gaps louder than anything he could speak. It just makes the things he does say all the more profound when he finally does say them.

“I’ve never seen the stars before.”

You can always trust Choso to say something unintentionally heartbreaking. You already knew this, knew he never had the opportunity to see them with his whole life spent under smoggy light-polluted skies, but hearing him say it so matter-of-factly without any regret or longing, so unperturbed by his lack of experiences, bothers you . It makes you all the more determined to fill his empty chalice with more memories than it can possibly hold; to leave it and him overflowing with a life well and truly lived.

“Well they’re pretty, right?” You needle.

“They are,” he agrees, and his arm tightens around your shoulder, drawing you even closer into the firm curvature of his body.

“But you are beautiful—” “— I am cold —”

Choso chuckles, the sound low and melodic as he slips off his jacket and wraps it over your shoulders, pre-warmed with the heat of him and you smile, so utterly besotted, as you draw his sleeve up to your mouth to cover the saccharine dripping of your happiness.

“There,” he murmurs, and you can feel his lips press gently against your temple, brushing aside your hair with the spun bow of his smile. “Beautiful, and less cold.”

Your laughter is warm and fond, like air slowly escaping from a balloon, releasing the swell of adoration inside your ribcage before it makes you burst. “You’ve gotten good at that,” you tease.

You can almost feel the slow furrow of Choso’s brow without looking, the way the left side wrinkles just a bit more than the right, his mouth forming a curious frown. Innocently, he asks, “Good at what?”

You love that expression—the thoughtful curiosity, always eager to learn something new, even about himself, because it’s a reflection of how you see him in a mirror he could never hold. With a grin on your face, you tilt your head back to gaze up at him, and your heart promptly swoops down to your diaphragm and crashes straight through it.

His eyes are cast up at the stars, eyelids pulled back so far they’re almost lost in the exhausted bruises of his sockets. The way they reflect the stars above, it's as if each tiny distant light is captured and magnified within them, turning his dark irises into shimmering cosmos of their own. You see constellations in the depths of his wide gaze, entire universes dancing just for you—and you couldn’t be more lost in orbit if you launched yourself directly into the stratosphere.

You're grateful for the rush of blood that warms your frozen cheeks as you stare openly, every beat of your heart directing more heat up to your face. The moonlight bathes his face in a gentle glow, turning his hair into strands of liquid mercury. Each one catches the light, shimmering threads of pure moonbeam woven into his skull. He looks almost otherworldly, a celestial being come down to earth to grace you with as divine a gift as his warm jacket—

Feeling the weight of your gaze, his attention is reeled downward. The macrocosm held within his eyes shifts, now focusing solely on you, and you feel as if you’re the very center of that universe now. It was so easy for him to look away from the breathtaking sight of the stars up above you—because as far as Choso’s concerned, you were the one who hung them there.

“Good at what?” Choso repeats, seeming oblivious to the almost religious experience you just underwent simply by looking at him—he wants an answer. He’s curious.

Suddenly, your intention of teasing him feels so utterly withered. Dead on arrival to your tongue that you almost can’t bring yourself to say it because of just how sincere it feels now. You chuckle sheepishly, seeking escape in the milky way above you but finding yourself drawn back into his gravity instead with a slow sloping smile. “Being all… romantic, ” you mutter. You were cold only moments ago, but the blush on your face keeps you toasty now.

His eyes widen slightly, a look of innocent surprise washing over his face. "Really?"

You nod. "Yeah, really."

Choso beams, and your mind almost short-circuits at how devastatingly beautiful it makes him. You’d think the blood rushing to your head might power your brain, make it easier to think, but it does the exact opposite; it boils you dumb, leaving your skull little more than a soupy bone bowl.

Without thinking—because how could you really? —you lean up and kiss him gently to taste that sweet smile of his.

It’s Choso’s turn to flatline then as your lips brush his, warm and firm with just enough give for him to want to sink into you forever. No matter how familiar the sensation or how many times you kiss him, he isn’t used to it. He might never be used to it. He hopes he never will be.

When you pull away, he makes a small noise of complaint, a soft whimper that tugs a fine red thread connected directly between your thighs. His eyes, wide and vulnerable, chase after your lips, his body moving on instinct until he's tentatively leaning over you. There’s a raw, unspoken need in his gaze that makes your breath falter.

He pauses, his forehead resting against yours, his breath clouding white and breathing him directly into your lungs as you inhale each other's cold vapor. “...Wanna kiss you,” he whispers, his voice tinged with a soft plea that makes your abdomen tighten.

You reach up, your fingers threading through his hair, gleaming like spun silver and breaking free dark commas that hang messily over his forehead. His brow pinches in a look that almost spells confusion—a familiar expression of utter bafflement at how badly he needs to feel you. He’s experienced much more with you, felt you, tasted you, had you in every way that matters, but somehow a simple kiss always galvanizes his desire like nothing else.

His lips find yours again, more insistent this time as his tongue dips into you. You gasp as he moans at the taste of your mouth, your fingers tangling into the roots of his loose hair, holding your celestial deity willingly captive to your body; tied through fingers rather than Promethean chains.

He shivers against the feel of your nails on his scalp, spurring him to bear down on you further with a needy groan. All at once, Choso’s ardor is a palpable, desperate thing. His hand roams your back, bunching his jacket in his fist but not daring to slip beneath, only pressing you closer to him. Even with that barrier, his touch scalds you, making you arch up at his insistence, molding against his hovering chest with your arms slung around his shoulders for support.

Your lips part for a moment, your nose wedged against his as you catch your breath. You both sink so seamlessly deep into each other that its an effort not to get lost completely, though between the two of you, it’s always Choso who has a harder time clawing his composure back; displayed by the displeased whine that escapes his throat before he pulls you back in with a gentle but insistent push against your lower spine.

You move with the gesture, your body turning fluid against his as you roll over, straddling him now as he lays flat on the blanket. Your hands brace against the firm planes of muscle that band his chest, fingers splayed as if to feel and grab and claim all of him at once, and god —it’s never quite enough. You crash into him again, ruled by gravity, only you don’t know which of you is the object and which is the ground, only that a collision was inevitable.

Choso’s hands shake as they slide to your hips, pinning you against his waist as your tongue thrusts back into his mouth and you were loath to ever have left it. His lips seal around yours, hungry as he sucks on your tongue with a wanton moan swallowed directly into your mouth and your teeth bare in a victorious grin.

His hand cups the back of your neck, hesitant and unsure despite the number of times you’ve told him he can be much firmer with you. In reprimand you nip his lower lip between your teeth. Choso gasps, his hips automatically bucking up into you to smash his straining cloth-covered cock into your crotch—the sudden sensation only making him whine again, wrenching his lips from yours with a flustered gasp.

He hadn’t realized how turned on he was just from this. Hadn’t felt it until you did, and suddenly he’s mortified, frozen and statuesque as he tries and fails to will himself soft.

“S–sorry. ‘msosorry– '' He chokes, and now he’s caught your blush like it's something contagious. You can feel his cock jump beneath you, hard and urgent, a wordless plea that has your stomach immediately tightening in response, like your insides have been gripped in an iron fist and twisted.

You’ve never once had to question whether Choso wants you or not. He’s never been subtle, and he’s never tried to be. It’s flattering in a way that instantly thrusts your brain into the realm of reciprocity, your own desire pooling hot and slick between your thighs, making you acutely aware of just how much you need him too.

His eyes, wide and dark, gaze up at you with a need that makes you feel like a goddess descended from the heavens, and you grin, all luminous teeth and coy intent. “What’re you sorry for?” you whisper, hovering nose to nose as your hips chase his back to the ground.

“I–” He swallows, the pretty dusted blush on his cheeks darkens, the night sky painting him in shades of monochrome, but you know just how red he can get. He shakes his head, but his fingers don’t move from your hips; if anything, he holds tighter. As if there was a chance in hell of you disappearing.

“You…?” You press coyly, to which Choso groans in breathless exasperation. And because he’s taking too long for your liking, you decide to encourage him with a slow, rolling grind against the pinned tent in his pants. He stiffens—both his cock and his entire body going rigid before his head thumps back against the ground wordlessly.

Choso’s lower lip trembles, and you so badly want to sink your teeth into it. “Don’t tease me…” he whispers pleadingly, his mouth curving into that awkward smile you know and love.

And god, do you love him. So much so, that you decide to be merciful…a move that might seem altruistic, if your own panties weren’t thoroughly soaked and sticking and in desperate need of removal. Your mercy is just as much for yourself as your shoulders roll, starting to shrug off his jacket—

Choso’s eyes widen and his hands fly from your hips to your shoulders, catching the garment before it can fall. The move was so sudden that it surprises you, making you recoil and sit deeper into his lap. Choso’s eyes flutter and he clenches his jaw with a grunt, but he shakes his head. “What are you doing?”

You blink down at him, a slow and confused smile building on your lips. “I–I thought…do you not want to —?”

“ Oh —I do. Very bad. But we–we can’t out here.” Choso tugs the jacket back up, pulling it tight in front of you.

“Cho–there’s nobody around for miles. Maybe…maybe raccoons or something, but—”

“You’ll get cold,” he interrupts resolutely. His brow is set low over his eyes, stubborn and unyielding. “I don’t want you to be cold.”

You can’t imagine ever feeling cold again with how warm you feel now. Your heart swells with affection, and you smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’ll be fine,” you reassure him. But his hands remain on your shoulders, firm and insistent, and you realize he’s serious.

“Choso…” you murmur, your voice a seductive purr that sends a visible shiver down his spine. You delight in the way that the mere sound of his name rolling off your tongue makes his body soften and tremble. “Do you want to take me …” You let your words trail off as your hand drifts down over his chest, lingering suggestively just above his navel. Your fingers trace a teasing path lower, slow and unashamedly provocative, “…inside?"

As if your words were a trigger and he was waiting for you to say exactly that, Choso reacts with breathtaking speed, scooping you up effortlessly and throwing you over his shoulder. His grip on your thighs is firm, unyielding, and you let out a surprised squeal, heart pounding as he strides toward the cabin without hesitation, carrying you as if you weighed nothing.

You laugh, half in shock and half in delight, as he practically kicks the door open and steps inside with you. He doesn’t bother with the stairs or even look for a bedroom. Instead, his eyes dart around the entryway, searching for something, anything, to set you on. He zeroes in on a tall table in the foyer, decorated with knick knacks—a bronze statue bust of a deer, a small clock, and other rustic-y decor items.

Evidently, this will just have to do. He sets you down on the table with a bit more force than intended, your butt thumping solidly against the lacquered wood. Trinkets scatter, your body sweeping them aside like a battering ram and knocking the fragile clock dangerously close to the edge. The table wobbles slightly under your weight, sturdy but clearly not meant for this kind of use.

Choso stands between your knees, nudging them apart with his thighs as his long, cold fingers cup your face with a tenderness that wholly departs from his urgency. His lips crash against yours for a second time in a searing kiss, full of raw need and longing. He moans quietly into your mouth, the sound vibrating straight through you like a knife to the gut.

He grinds himself against you, his cock hard and throbbing beneath his clothes as he presses between your legs. The movement is subconscious on his part, an instinctive need for friction that his body knows exactly where to find even with his brain being too addled to seek it. You can’t help but respond encouragingly, your hips moving to meet him with a firm upward swipe of your pussy—as much as you can while pinned like a taxidermied butterfly to the table.

Choso groans, his focus shoved even closer to the abyssal edge of total composure loss. He isn’t sure what to do with his hands. He wishes so badly that he had more of them. To hold your face, to rip your clothes off like a wild animal, to encourage your hips against him harder if he were to be so bold. But he only has two hands, and he isn’t bold, just eager. So eager is he that his hands frenzy over your body, everywhere and nowhere all at once, making you laugh low and husky against his lips.

His hand tangles in your hair but is quick to leave it, moving instead to cup your jaw but no–that isn’t quite right either. From your jaw, to your neck, then to your spine, and he groans and shakes his head at his own indecision. Not enough hands. He finally pulls the jacket from your body and tosses it to the floor.

“Too many layers…” he mutters. But the removal of those layers…that does something more for him.

So he makes a choice. Clothes off. Clothes off is good.

His hands fly from your face down to the hem of your shirt, tugging at it without ceremony or preamble. You raise your arms above your head to help, but his refusal to part his lips from yours makes the task harder. The shirt gets stuck beneath your chin, rucked up over your breasts, and he growls, forced to pull away just to finish the job.

You giggle as he steps back, helping you wrestle your shirt over your arms where it catches, momentarily blinding you. Eventually, he frees it from your body, and as it falls away, you catch Choso's flushed face in the flickering orange light of the fire. He stands there, gazing at you, almost transfixed.

He’s seen you shirtless before. He's mapped every inch of your body with his hands and his mouth like a blind man reading braille. But without fail, the visual of your shirtless body, breasts heaving with each forceful breath, leaves him completely stunned. He stands there, frozen and sedated, as if he simply isn’t allowed to touch something so perfect. Like you should be kept high up on a shelf somewhere, not down here with the likes of him.

His lip wobbles needily, eyes blown wide and spun like glass as he drinks you in like he might never see you again. With a sure smile you reach behind you to unclip your bra with deft fingers, and the sight of the fabric falling away from your skin as if in slow motion snaps Choso’s restraint like a toothpick.

You watch as Choso yanks his shirt off too, shoulders hunching forward to slip it off over his head and he’s back on you in the same breath. There’s no quiet moment for you to drink in the sight of his tightened abs or his broad, tense shoulders trembling. He’s almost selfish in his consumption of you, taking and giving nothing back, though not intentionally. He's simply impatient, unapologetically needy.

His tongue plunges desperately into your mouth, sloppy and squirming, as he presses his chest against yours, craving your warmth and sandwiching your breasts between your bodies as he molds to you. Your nipples graze against his pecs, tripping the sharp wire that sends electric jolts of pleasure straight to your clit. You inhale sharply, sucking the oxygen straight from his mouth in a greedy gasp.

Instead of returning to his mouth, your lips veer to the side, trailing fire as you plant open-mouthed kisses along the sharp line of his jaw and down his throat. You scatter pretty roses along Choso’s collar bone with sharp nips of your teeth, quickly soothing the thorny sting with your tongue.

His head falls back, shoulders taut and quivering, his lips parted so prettily that you’d love to slip your fingers between them, if your hands weren’t already occupied tugging at the waistband of his pants. Your fingers tease the edge, your pinky slipping just underneath and it’s as if you’ve just reminded him— oh, right, he wanted your clothes off.

His hands are a flurry of movement again, batting yours away in his haste to reach you. He grips your pants, pulling hard . With one hand clinging to his shoulder and the other to the edge of the table for stability on its increasingly unstable surface, you raise your hips. "Wait-..." but you're too slow. Choso is as strong as he is predictably impatient, and he tears your pants from your body with an explosive rip. You gasp, and he sheepishly mumbles, "Sorry," though he isn’t sorry at all. In fact, if you never wore pants again, they wouldn’t get in the way and he wouldn't be forced to tear them off you.

You laugh exasperatedly as he takes a half step back, his fingers digging into the fabric of his pants with such urgency that his briefs come down with them. The sight makes you practically salivate . His cock springs free, red and ready, smacking against his stomach which concaves as he hisses, shying away from the sudden contact with himself. It bobs back down, horizontal and already pearled with pre-cum.

“You’re so pretty—”

“—Sah…–says you—” Choso objects bashfully, all but tripping over himself to close the meager distance he created between you. He reaches for your hip at the same moment your fingertips skim his waist and he squeaks adorably, his hips impulsively thrusting forwards.

His thighs hit the edge of the table, and the weeping head of his cock rams against your clit, making your vision streak with stars as you yelp and jolt forward. The table rattles and sways with a sense of impending collapse, but Choso is quicker. His arm scoops behind your waist, lifting you clear of the danger, and in a flash, he ducks, his hand shooting out to catch the teetering clock before it crashes to the floor.

You blink owlishly at him, then burst into laughter as the tension diffuses like morning mist. The galloping of your heart from the near collapse settles into a gentler rhythm, your life no longer flashing before your eyes, yet still stirred by being held in his arms. Choso grins awkwardly, taking a moment to gently place the clock back on the table.

“Nice,” you snicker, legs wrapping around his waist and leaning into his neck, nipping at the junction of his shoulder.

“Thank y–mmph-! ” Choso’s gasp and appreciative moan of your name curls from his chest outwards, muffled by his face burrowing into your shoulder. His cock jerks upward, a long string of pre-cum dripping from the tip and stringing down to the floor. He could just drop you right down onto his cock and make you scream his name and twitch in his arms and neither of you would ever pull apart again, he’d fuck his cum into you over and over and over and anytime it leaks out he can just replace it—

“—guh–gotta find somewhere–somewhere better for you. Better than–ah–a table— ”

You hum approvingly, nosing along the flushed pillar of his throat and trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the same path. Your lips and tongue worship his skin. Lost in the haze of need, you barely register where he’s taking you. You hardly clock that you’re being moved at all.

Choso moves quickly but slowly enough to support his precious cargo. He’s been so accident prone, and now he’s scared to trip or bump you into a wall or accidentally sneeze and bury himself inside you —

With a grunt he suddenly drops to the floor in the center of a fluffy rug in the main room, legs crossed with his ankles pinned beneath his knees, settling you in the gap created with your legs still locked behind his waist.

The fire crackles beside you, hot and flickering and smoky. You reel back in his lap and his hands slide up your sides to support you, gripping and caressing up and down your spine. His forehead tilts to thunk against yours, the fire playing in his eyes in a way that makes you feel weak-kneed.

Choso murmurs your name, adoring and dreamy. “So pretty,” he praises, “— sososo pretty—”

He starts to rock the underside of his cock against your pussy, his brows knitting as his head drops against your shoulder, lips parted and panting over your skin. Your folds part around his shaft, his head snagging against your clit before cresting all the way through. You squeak, reflexively pressing yourself more insistently against him.

He does it again, his entire body tense and hard with the concentration it takes to exercise patience. You deserve patience, to feel good and cum again and again, and he’s determined to be the one to make it happen. He shudders, his tongue poking out from between clenched teeth, nodding to himself in silent declaration. But that careful restraint is flimsy at best, sorely tested with each shallow drag. His cock returns shinier and wetter, the friction driving him to the brink until he’s gripped wholly by the need to have you .

Desperate for distraction, Choso’s hands roam eagerly over your breasts, squeezing with a blend of urgency and reverence. A low, needy moan escapes him, his lips hovering before his tongue flicks out to tease your nipple. He captures it in his mouth, sucking gently, each pull sending ripples of pleasure radiating through you. You arch into him, breath hitching as a soft moan escapes. The sensation of your body pressing against his elicits a deep, primal groan from him, vibrating against your skin. His free hand caresses your other breast, rolling and pinching your nipple with growing confidence, his touches more assured and deliberate.

With each slow roll of his hips you can feel every exquisitely familiar detail. Thick and firm, with a pronounced upward curve that rubs perfectly against your sensitive bud. The veins along his length pulse with engorging blood—you’re shocked he’s even lasted this long without begging to be inside you. But he wants tonight to be special. You’re on a trip, together, for the first time and he wants to be good for you. Every grind and thrust feels electric, his cock divinely crafted to drive your burgeoning craving to new heights.

Choso moans and dislodges from your nipple, his lips leaving a slick, magmatic trail as he moves upward. His hand snakes down to grip the base of his weeping length, squeezing it hard as he manually drags it between your puffy folds. The sensation makes him shudder, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he looks at you, his gaze pleading and desperate.

"–oh my– fffuck –" he babbles, his voice shaky with need. "I'm sorry, I... I need you so bad. In – inside…please. " He whispers, his hips bucking involuntarily as his cock slides against you, the tip catching on your entrance before he drags it back along your clit. You mewl and clutch at his shoulders the sound alone is almost too much for him to bear. "Please," he begs again, his eyes locked onto yours, almost teary.

The fire pops loudly beside you, a stick collapsing into ash in the brick tray, and with it, your restraint burns away. You nod, your voice a raspy plea, " Please —don't tease me." The scent of him mingled with the burning wood makes your head swim. The tables have turned, and you now find yourself on the other side from where you began. But Choso would never tease you, not like you would him—his need is too great, his desire to obey you too strong. Your voice when you beg is lovely, but god he wants to make you sing.

He presses his thumb against his cockhead, gasping as white-hot pleasure courses through him, the pad of his finger immediately slick with arousal. He pushes it down, notching against your entrance, his breath hitching. “ Gon–gonna make you feel good, ” he asserts shakily, his voice thick with need. “ Gonna try— ” At the same moment, his arm wraps behind your waist, pulling your body to him. He rocks his hips up and forward, the head of his cock slipping inside with agonizing slowness.

Your breath catches, a moan escaping your lips as he fills you, every inch stretching and teasing. Choso's muffled cry vibrates against your shoulder as he buries his face there, his teeth sinking into your skin. You clutch at him, nails digging into his back, urging him deeper. The sensation is electric, overwhelming, and you arch into him, your breath mingling with his as you stare downward at the connection of your bodies.

You watch with an almost voyeuristic fascination as every inch and vein slowly disappears inside you. The sensation is overwhelming—every ridge and curve of his cock stretching you perfectly, filling you with a heat that borders on unbearable. Choso's breath is a series of ragged, desperate gasps. His eyes narrow to hot-whiskey slits that are caught between wanting to watch and needing to look away as he fights to maintain a very fragile sense of control. His teeth sink into the plush of his lower lip, almost hard enough to break through the satin-soft skin.

When he's about halfway in, he stops, tense and quivering, his cock pulsing inside you. "Oh god...fuck, you feel so good—I’m sorry, I can't—I just...shit, you're perfect...I'm so sorry—I need...I need this." He babbles, his words an unconscious stream of desire and apology. His body shakes with the effort of holding back, every other word punctuated by a shallow, needy thrust.

Your velvety walls clench around him, drawing a whimper from his lips as he grips your hips with bruising strength. "I’m sorry—can’t wait," he gasps, his voice trembling. With a sharp, desperate thrust, he buries himself fully inside you, the sudden fullness making you gasp, nails raking down his back as you cry out in bliss.

Once fully inside, Choso’s body relaxes, his tension melting away as if he’s finally home. His breath steadies, the frantic urgency pacified and giving way to a deep, consuming need for more. No longer driven by desperation, he seeks to savor every moment, to make this last, cherishing the sensation of being completely enveloped by your wet heat.

He pulls back slightly, the slow drag of his cock against your slick walls making both of you shudder, sweat springing up along your throat. His hands, no longer gripping you with bruising force, now glide gently over your skin, caressing, exploring. His eyes meet yours, filled with a tender intensity that takes your breath away. “I love you. You know I love you?” he whispers, his voice soft, and so so grateful.

His hips move with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust deep and measured, designed to draw out every pleasurable quiver he can wring from you. You moan softly, his words coiling around your brain like ivy vines and rooting deeply into the mortar. You are fluid above him, warm and malleable and so very his. Completely enthralled with the delight of being so selflessly possessed are you, that you need to possess him right back. He loves you and that feels better than anything.

Your legs coil tighter around his waist, drawing him closer, deeper. “ Mhm— ” You lean your temple against his shoulder, a profound sense of relaxation blanketing you soul-deep, even as your body goes absolutely haywire just beneath the prickling surface of your skin.

The fire crackles beside you, casting a warm, flickering glow over your entwined bodies. When you look up at him with those adoring doe-eyes, the muscles in your stomach flex, drawing a deep grunt from Choso as he feels the sudden tightening. The flames paint his sweat-slicked skin in hues of orange, setting him ablaze. In that moment, you understand the fatal attraction of moths to a flame, feeling an irresistible pull toward the incandescent heat and the beautiful, dangerous glow of him.

His hands brush down your sides as gently as if you were an antique vase, the same hands that tore your pants in two capable of such softness. His palms settle on your hips, kneading for a moment before curling into a gentle hold. He gives an experimental squeeze— lifting you up as he shifts back, and lowering you down as he rolls his hips up.

You are utterly tranquil. Perched so prettily in his lap, skewered so softly on his cock and lulled with rocking pleasure so soothing you very well could sleep like this. The fire, him, surrounds you like a cocoon, a heady tonic borderline alcoholic in your placidity . It feels like sinking into a bath of milk and honey, your brain dopey and slow. But you feel his encouragement, the way he moves you up and down his length; every now and then by a stroke of chance he nudges against your sweet-spot, or his pelvis grinds just right against your clit, jolting you back to reality with a start.

It’s not enough to be an idle passenger, your body chases that instinctual high before your brain can fan away the fog. Your hips begin to rock against his in time, adjusting your angle, and as soon as you do, Choso sighs low and shakily against your ear. He holds you steady, aiding the slow oscillation of your body, encouraging your languid participation with an appreciative squeeze of his hands and a more forceful buck of his hips.

“ M’not gonna break—you…you can do more—”

At your insistence Choso groans as if he’d been waiting for permission to do exactly that. “You– yeah…oh–okay —”

His grip tightens, and ever your servant he thrusts into you harder in an effort to appease you, his movements growing more intense, more insistent. The change in pace sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, each thrust hitting deeper, each glide against your clit setting off bursts of ecstasy that makes your vision spot and rips those gorgeous little whines he cherishes straight from your chest.

Your breath hitches, and you start to meet his thrusts with equal zeal, fucking him back with newfound determination. The rhythm between you shifts, Choso’s hands sliding back from your hips to dig into the meat of your ass. His control, whatever little he had of it to begin with, starts to unravel. His eyes flutter shut, a strained moan escaping his lips. His hands, once guiding, now grip you almost helplessly, holding on as you move with increasing fervor.

Choso's brain melts under the onslaught of sensation. His thrusts become erratic, less coordinated, until finally, he forgets to participate altogether, lost in the overwhelming pleasure you’re giving him. His hands fall to the side and brace back against the floor, and he surrenders completely, letting you use him, his body yours to command.

You take full advantage of his surrender, moving with a purpose, driven by a mounting need that seems to eclipse everything else. The slick, heated slide of his cock inside you, the way your bodies meld together with each rise and fall like grafted metal in a forge, tempered and hammered into something far more beautiful than your base materials; you succumb fully to the intoxication that starts as a slow embered burn low in your belly.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps, each inhale tinged with the smoky scent of the fire, each exhale a soft moan of pleasure. The world narrows to the point of contact between you and Choso, the delicious friction, the way his length fills you so completely. Every grind against your bud is ruinous in your body, every nudge against your depths making you see stars.

Your mind feels suspended in a dreamy fog, every thought reduced to the primal, desperate need for release. You can feel your orgasm building, a tight coil of heat and pressure in your core. A garden blooms in your womb, overcome with the primitive need for it to be filled, belly round and full with Choso’s seed. But you do not care what becomes of that garden as molten heat spreads outward, burning it to ash and making your muscles tense and quiver.

Your hips move faster, more urgently, chasing that peak, riding the wave of pleasure that threatens to consume you. You want to be consumed. Choso's moans mix with your own, his body a pliant vessel beneath you, his pleasure a mirror of your own.

And then, all at once, the coil snaps and your ears ring with a sound you only vaguely recognize as coming from your own mouth. Your orgasm crashes over you, powerful and all-consuming. Your body convulses with the force of it, muscles clenching around Choso's cock to suck him impossibly deeper as the pleasure ripples through you in intense, shuddering waves. Your vision blurs, and for a moment, you lose all sense of time and space, reduced to a primal, instinctual being driven solely by overwhelming bliss. You are something made perfect, born anew in the flood of holy fire and ecstasy. For that brief period you are nothing but stardust.

Choso’s voice breaks through the fog, a frantic litany of curses and gratitude spilling from his lips. " Fuckfuckfuck—thank you—so beautiful...oh fuck, you’re so perfect, " he babbles, his voice shaky with awe and need. The intensity of your climax has pushed him to the brink, and he’s barely holding on. His hands roam over your body, trembling with the effort to restrain himself.

His movements become erratic, driven by an almost savage pride that you came first, but now he’s desperate to find his own release. He sinks into you to the hilt, each movement filled with an urgent, raw need. The sensation of him jabbing into you, bluntly knocking on the door of your cervix prolongs your orgasm into the realm of exquisite agony.

Without warning, Choso shifts his weight, and in one fluid motion, topples you both over so you're on your back. The transition is seamless, and before you can catch your breath, he’s over you, inside you, fucking you into the floor with a relentless, desperate rhythm. The raw intensity in his eyes, the primal need driving his movements, rips your breath away before you’ve even begun to try to catch it.

Each thrust is powerful and deep, a claim and a plea all at once. You can see the strain in his muscles, feel the desperate edge to his movements as he chases his salvation in your body. The firelight casts shadows across his face, highlighting the fierce determination etched in his features. One hand grips your hip and the other flutters down your wrist to plait his fingers through yours, shakily moving it above your head to pin it to the rug.

He is wholly possessed by an uncharacteristically primal urge to take you , to etch himself into you, to rewrite your DNA with his name and be bound to you forever by something altogether greater than himself. “ Gah—gonna–gonna marry you. Haa– nngh! Have you forever— ”

Choso’s thrusts become more erratic, his breathing more ragged. " Gonna...gonna cum, " he gasps, his voice thick with needy warning. His eyes lock onto yours, a silent plea for release. And then, with a final, deep thrust, he shudders violently, his orgasm punching against his abs as he shouts and buries his face in the crook of your neck as he cums. You feel the muscles in his back bunch and tense as he spills himself inside you, each forceful contraction painting your walls with his warmth.

His cum coats you, thick and hot, sticking inside you as he continues to move slowly, coaxing it deeper. He fucks it into you with tender, deliberate thrusts, bidding it to seep into your womb, ensuring every drop is claimed.

Choso collapses onto you like a warm, protective blanket, his weight a soothing comfort and far from oppressive. The two of you lie there entwined and spent, bodies still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure, your skin slick with flame-licked sweat. The silence between you is broken only by your shared, labored breaths and the soft pop and crackle of the fire beside you. He doesn’t move, his body gone completely boneless, and neither do you unwilling to disturb him or yourself. The quiet wraps you both in a cocoon of tender, post-orgasmic bliss.

Eventually, you begin to rouse him with soft kisses along his jaw, your lips brushing tenderly against his skin. He laughs, a bubbly, euphoric sound that makes your heart swell. The sound is infectious, and soon you find yourself giggling too.

Choso shifts slightly, propping himself up just enough to meet your dewy gaze, his exhaustion evident in his heavy-lidded eyes warmed like melted honey. He presses his nose to yours, the touch soft and sweet, before tilting to plant the lightest of kisses on your lips, then your cheeks, then your forehead, showering you with affection and gratitude. "Can we come here every year?" he whispers hopefully.

You smile, your heart swelling with tenderness. "Every year," you promise.

#choso x you #choso kamo #choso smut #choso x reader #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #kamo choso #choso my beloved #choso kamo x you #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #jjk x reader smut #choso jjk #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut

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stormz369 · 2 months ago

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☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch. 2

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

A/N: Wow, I was not expecting that kind of reaction! Thank you to everyone who's interacted with chapter 1; I've had a rough week and you all made my day! I wasn't planning on posting chapter 2 until I was a bit further along with ch 3, but I just can't find it in me to say no to ya'll!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, hurt (no comfort) (yet), will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings (chapter specific): chapter includes a brief scene of attempted assault (which will be labeled for those who'd rather skip it) angst, gun violence, some negative self-talk

words: 1.8k

Jason's first call came at exactly 2:05pm the next day. When I picked up I was immediately greeted by his voice seemingly from the other side of a very large room; “seriously, guys! I'll call, I'll call!”

“Too late!” Dick shouted, clearly holding the phone. “Hello! This is Dick, calling on behalf of my idiot brother, Jason! We met at the cafe yesterday?”

I could hear Jason shouting at someone, but it was muffled like he was under something. “Right … So are you going to put Jason on, or…?”

“Well, Jaybird is under the impression that calling a girl the next day is ‘desperate’ and ‘off-putting’, so we've taken up a poll at the house, and surprise surprise; we need a tiebreaker. Your thoughts?”

Before I could respond I heard muffled grunting; someone in the background shouted “no! Get him!” which was immediately followed by a yelp from Dick as Jason growled a bit;

“Give me that!” A door slammed, and all the other voices were gone, replaced by Jason's gentle, almost shy voice; “... Um … hi … still think this is normal sibling behavior?”

I giggled; “... Starting to veer away from normal now. But it's sweet, they obviously really care about you. And for the record - you can call the poll on the side of ‘it’s not desperate or off-putting'; I gave you my phone number, surely I expected you to use it, right?”

“... O- oh, yeah I guess that makes sense … So yeah, I'm using it. … Hi.”

“Hi~”

After that, I spoke to Jason in some capacity or another most every day. Turned out he was a night owl too. Apparently he worked most nights, so, after I assured him that a text wouldn't wake me, he started preemptively sending me a good morning text around 3 or 4am, so it was the first thing I saw when I woke up.

I loved how he could go off on an impassioned tangent; getting him all worked up over literature was especially cute. He did have a tendency to backpedal after a particularly passionate rant, no matter how many times I pointed out that I liked hearing him so excited. We also kept trying to arrange a day to get together, preferably without his brothers hovering this time, but his work schedule was so hectic that we kept having to postpone.

It seemed a bit unlikely, but I started to wonder if I had been right in the first place; that it was all some really elaborate prank. It certainly wouldn't be the first time an attractive man had played with my heart like that, though it would be the first time one had bought me anything before pulling the rug out from under me…

Nearly a month into our texting relationship, Jason went radio silent for several days. No warning, just gone. I didn't want to be clingy, but I was a bit worried. He had been so attentive until this, what if something was wrong and I was out here thinking the worst about him?

On day 5 without a response I picked up a late shift at work, hoping to distract myself from the whole thing. It didn't work though, and I ended up trudging home at 2am blasting loud, angry music through my headphones. I was frustrated, and confused, and careless. I didn't notice the man behind me until his hand was around my wrist.

❌❌❌ -skip point- ❌❌❌

The world moved in slow motion as I was pulled into the alley. The man's mouth was moving, but I just heard a staticy ring. I tasted copper, and everything was too dark. Things didn't snap back into focus until I felt the rough brick slam against my back and I screamed, shoving against him.

All at once, everything was moving too fast; he was grabbing, I was punching and kicking, my voice was cracking. A second felt like an eternity, I couldn't even hazard a guess how long the fight actually took. But all at once it ended; with a loud, sharp sound that left me frozen in place and my ears ringing, the man collapsed in front of me. Red bloomed across his unmoving chest, and all I could do was stare.

❌❌❌ -end skip point- ❌❌❌

Large, leather clad hands gently touched my shoulders, bringing me back into my body. I slowly looked up, blinking. I immediately recognized the masked man who had come to my aid; Red Hood had made quite the name for himself in his time as a mob boss. I heard something droning on, but couldn't focus on any specific details over the sound of my own heartbeat still pounding in my ears. It took him gingerly sliding my headphones off for me to realize the noise I was hearing was just the next song on my angry playlist.

“Miss? Can you hear me now?” there was an electric quality to his voice. I vaguely wondered why more Masks didn't use voice modulators; it seemed more practical than the standard vigilante eye coverings…

I slowly nodded. “... Y- … yeah?”

The red helmet nodded once, “did he hurt you?”

I looked down at myself, frowning a bit. My shirt was grimed up from the struggle, and I could feel the cold night air on the back of my thighs; my pants had ripped when I tried to kick the man off me. A shaky breath turned into a sob as I gasped, looking up again.

A million thoughts ran through my head at once. I wanted to scream, to curse, anything! But all I managed was a whimpered; “... Th- these were my favorite pants …”

“... Well, your boyfriend will just have to get you a new pair. Let … let me get you home, yeah?” I flinched as he reached toward me again, a gloved finger gently wiping away my tears. He offered me his hand, easing me out of the alley like a frightened stray cat.

I followed without complaint, turning my music off. “... No boyfriend …”

“A friend then? Someone who'll take care of you.” Red Hood led me to a motorcycle. He unzipped a bag on the back, and held out a red flannel shirt.

A watery giggle slipped out of my mouth and I shakily took it, tying it around my waist. “... I don't even know anymore…”

“Don't know?”

“Well, I was talking to a guy, but … I think he ghosted me.”

“No!” I jumped at the sudden volume and insistent tone, looking up at him awkwardly.

“... No?”

“I … I just mean … a pretty girl like you's not gonna get ghosted. If he hasn't texted back in a few days there's gotta be a reason.”

I looked away, squirming awkwardly. Did an ex-crime lord turned vigilante really just call me pretty? “... Y- … I … what?”

He was silent for a long moment. I got the distinct impression that he was staring at me, but with the helmet on it was hard to tell. “... We should get you home.”

Next thing I knew, I was holding Red Hood's helmet. I hesitantly looked up as he turned, catching just a glimpse of one of those domino masks the other local vigilantes wore. He moved his bag and swung one leg over the seat of his bike, turning back to stare at me expectantly. The prospect of letting the Red Hood know where I lived didn't seem like the smartest idea, but I was definitely not going to walk home alone after all that. So I slid the helmet on and carefully climbed behind him, placing my feet where he indicated. As I arranged the flannel between my bare thighs and the seat it occurred to me how unexpectedly kind it was of him to offer it. I knew he had been spotted working with the Bats lately, but just because they had accepted him didn’t mean he was a boy scout all of a sudden...

Of course, now that I was on his bike I was faced with the rather pressing concern of where to put my hands. I didn’t exactly have handle bars, and I doubted he was going to drive slow enough that I could stay upright; I would have to lean against him. I took a deep, steadying breath, and placed my hands on his shoulders. Hood froze a bit, and after a moment he reached behind himself to grasp my elbows. He gently pulled me to wrap my arms around his waist.

“It's actually safest this way. Interlock your fingers, and lean with me on turns.” His voice was so much nicer without the helmet distorting it, even if he was doing a truly terrible Batman impression.

“... O- ok…” I clung to him, feeling my entire body heat up. I wasn't sure how much of that was because I was blushing and how much was because the Red Hood was apparently a living space heater, but either way I was glad he couldn't see my face. I told him how to get to my apartment, and we sped off.

The roar of the engine and the wind whipping past mercifully drowned out anything we could have hoped to say to each other. I shut my eyes just for a moment, trying not to cry again, and suddenly Hood’s hand was trapping mine against his stomach. “... Hey, this it?”

I jolted slightly, looking up at the familiar building. I nodded, slowly extracted myself from his grip, and slid back onto solid ground. He held a hand up to stop me as I started to remove the borrowed flannel.

“Keep it.”

I blinked slowly, having trouble processing what he said. “... But … it’s your shirt … how will I give it back to you?”

He chuckled softly; “it’s just a shirt.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue the matter any further. I slipped his helmet off, holding it out to him.

“Thank you … I can't believe I let this happen…”

He frowned deeply at that, and his voice shifted a bit from a fake-Batman voice into an actually deep, grumpy tone; “you didn't let anything happen.”

“I'm usually so much more observant, if I had just been paying attention…”

“He would have changed tactics. You did nothing wrong. I don't want you thinking otherwise, got it?”

I sniffled softly, looking down at my shoes. “... I … God, I didn't even have my keys in my hand… I was taught better…”

“And I was taught not to kill. Shit happens.”

I blinked a bit, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. “… I … I guess so. … Th- Thank you … for everything.”

He nodded once before putting his helmet back on. Before I could step away, he reached out to touch my hand again. “Hey. You did everything right, ok? You drew attention, and you kept him off until I got there. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Got it?”

I nodded slowly, stepping back a bit. “… ok.”

“Good. Now, get inside.” He waited there, watching me. Only after the building's front door was closed and locked did I hear his motorcycle speed away.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika

Taglist: @jawdropforkpop

(If you would like to be added to the taglist feel free to let me know!)

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m0nsterqzzz · 9 months ago

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Cat's Out of the Bag La Rue

pairing: Clarisse La Rue x reader

summary: Valentines Day rolls around, and what kind of girlfriend would Clarisse be if she didnt get you the only present you've been wanting?

a/n: i wrote like 5 fucking valentines day fics yesterday (one with natasha, one with wanda, one with clarisse, one with carol danvers, and one with katniss everdeen) yet this is the only one im posting and i kinda hate it. literally the shortest oneshot i've ever written. also, I'm literally a dog person writing about cats. what has life come to?

is this the worst thing i've ever written? yes. do i hate every other piece of written recently cuz im in writers block and haven't updated in like 3 weeks? also yes. im so done yall.

With a baseball cap covering her head, tucking her curls against her head and being the best disguise she could come up with, Clarisse’s eyes dart all around the cab. It zooms through the streets of New York, making the child of Are’s slightly concerned for her and her siblings safety as they get honked out. The man driving seems like he’s barely paying attention to the road, but in the end it doesn’t really matter as long as they get to their destination.

There are three children in the yellow car; Clarisse, her half brother Mark, and her half sister Ruby. They were the only ones who she could convince to come with her to town, past the safe bounds of camp half blood where nothing but their weapons can stop monsters from hunting and hurting them.

It’d be a lie to say Clarisse isn’t nervous, but she pushes the feeling down as she grips her spear tighter in her left hand.

This is for you. She’s going into town and risking getting in trouble for the end result of seeing her favorite smile. Your smile. Her partner of one year. It may not seem like a very long time to some people, but you guys are demigods. It’s surprising you made it through the year without being killed by some horrible, ugly monster.

The car stops and the guy counts the large amount of money Mark hands him before telling them to get out of his cab. It may have annoyed the teenagers on any other day, but it doesn’t bother them too much since today is a special day.

“Why are we here?” Ruby asks, eyes scanning the area around them as if sure something is going to jump out at them. In the blonde haired girl's defense, it’s very possible something will.

Clarisse gestures to the small building in front of them. It’s run down and in desperate need of a paint job, but it doesn’t matter. That’s not what grabs the child of Ares attention. It’s the small animals chilling in their little spots inside the store. That’s what she’s here for.

The sign above the small colorful store reads, “Mike’s Animals”. Boring name, but gets the point across. She can already see the little animal she came here for when they walk through the door, the loud bell ringing from the action of opening it but no employee comes to help them. Clarisse lets her siblings stare in awe at the other animals for a few months before shoving towards a section near the back. The kitten section. You had been showing her a website on your phone a few days ago, one with a different selection of the small animals. The website was for Mike’s Animals, but you explained that even though you’d really like a cat, pets aren’t allowed in Camp Half Blood. It’s a rule.

Well you wanna know what Clarisse says about that? Screw rules. What her person want’s, her person gets.

So if the police ever come around, asking you why Clarisse shoved a black and white kitten into her brother's coat pocket and then made a run for it while the store manager chased after them, that’s what you have to say.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You're laying on your bed reading a book when your girlfriend walks in, a large box covered by a piece of fabric under one arm and a bouquet of flowers in her free hand. She ignores your siblings' gazes as she walks towards your space, setting down the box with a type of gentleness nobody in camp but you gets to see and then holding out the flowers.

They’re your favorite, clearly straight out of the flower fields by the slight glow they give off. They’re wrapped in a brown type of paper with a pink bow clearly down by one of the Aphrodite kids to hold it all together.

“Hey my love.” She starts. “These are for you.” You take the plants with a large grin on your face, bringing them closer to your face to smell the amazing natural scent coming from them. Something moves inside the box she sat on your bed, making you hold in a scream as you jump closer to your girlfriend and farther away from it. “What the hell is moving in that Clarisse?!” You ask, your siblings' attention all over you guys now.

Clarisse just laughs, but she seems slightly nervous as she puts the crate in your lap. “Just look. I hope you like it.” She continues to nervously ramble as you remove the cloth from the top of the box, letting out a small gasp when you see the small animal looking back at you with wide, curious blue eyes.

Your girlfriend stares as you gently pick him up, him instantly curling into your hold with a soft pur as you hold him close to your chest. “You um…you like him?” She asks with a small smile.

“Of course I do! He’s adorable, Risse!” She lets out a relieved sigh, laying down next to you as your siblings surround the bed trying to get a look at the animal. “You know Chiron will never let you keep that right?” One of your brothers asks with a laugh, and you frown as you look at your girlfriend.

She thinks about it for a moment before she says, “We’ll just hide him. He can lounge around the cabin while you’re gone, and you guys can hide him somewhere during cabin checks. Chiron will never know.”

Your siblings eventually leave you alone, going back to their acticicus as your two favorite beings cuddle up to you. Clarisse cuddles up next to your side, and the kitten on your stomach. “I really like you Oreo.” you whisper to the animal, making your girlfriend laugh. “Oreo? That’s the most original thing you could think of right?”

“Okay if you're so great at naming things, what should we name him?”

She goes quiet for a few seconds before mumbling in defeat, “I like Oreo.”

You guys enjoy the silence that surrounds just you guys as you pet Oreo, but then a small laugh comes from you when Clarisse gently grabs the cat and pulls him off your chest so she can lay her head there. “He’s been here for half an hour and you're already jealous?” “He was getting way too touchy. Mine.” She teases and then fakes an annoyed groan when he crawls onto her back and lays down, stretching himself out just to prove a point.

“Will you be my Valentine, my love?” She asks as she places her chin on your chest to look up at you. There's a certain softness in her eyes that you and only you get to see. In fact, it’s very, very rare you ever see the side everyone else talks about when they talk about Clarisse towards you. “You guys just don’t know her like I do.” You tell them. Not like they believe you, half of the camp still believing you somehow put a spell on her.

“Only if you’ll be mine.” You whisper back as if it’s a secret.

“Oh…this is awkward. I already agreed to be like ten other girls date.” Her voice is teasing as she tries and fails not to giggle.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.”

“Hm.” You fake being offended as you cross your arms over your chest and look away. She laughs, and the sound practically forces a smile on your face.

“I’m kidding. Only you, angel. I’m yours. Always.”

“And I’m yours, Clarisse La Rue.”

“Always?”

“And forever.”

There’s a knock on your cabin door, and you figure it’s another camper until a voice calls from the other side of the door, “Clarisse? I know you're in there. Your siblings told me where you went. Cat’s out of the bag La Rue.” Chiron says. Very terrible choice of words. She groans into your stomach, rolling off of you and successfully getting Oreo to jump off her back and onto the bed.

“Those little snitches.” She snarls as she gets up to open the door, making you instantly miss her warmth.

You place the cat under your sweater, giggling and then shoving his face back under when he crawls to put his head through the neck hole. Once she knows he’s covered, Clarisse opens the door. Chirons eyes fall to you, and it’s only then do you think about the fact that there is a giant Oreo shaped lump in your sweater.

All your siblings fall silent as they watch to see what’s gonna happen.

“Mac and cheese day am I right?” You try to joke with a nervous chuckle, but he doesn’t laugh. He just runs a hand over his face and then stares at you. “You know what? I don’t care. You find a way to feed him that isn’t taking resources from us, you make sure he doesn’t do any damage to the furniture, and you keep track of him at all times, you can keep him.”

You grin at him, letting the small animal out of your sweater who in turn lowly hisses at the sight of Chiron.

He groans, walking off as he mumbles something about needing a very long vacation. There's only so much of your girlfriend bending the rules to get you presents he can handle before he was bound to just accept it.

The cinatar leaves, your girlfriend flipping him off when he can’t see. He yells over his shoulder, “I know what you’re doing Clarisse! Stop it or no dessert!”

She stops flipping him off. Next to you, chocolate cake is what she lives for.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

That night, as you sit with Clarisse at the bonfire, she listens to you complain about how much you miss Oreo. Usually, you’d be too busy roasting marshmallows and cuddling with her to think about anything else, but your girlfriend doesn’t do anything other than smile, happy she made you so happy.

“So how’d you get him anyway? You don’t have that kind of money and there’s no way Chiron gave it to you.” You say, and she freezes in her spot on a log, slightly tightening her arms that are wrapped around your waist as she avoids your eyes.

“I stole him.” Her voice is slightly quieter than usual, and she says this in the most casual tone she can muster.

“CLARISSE LA RUE!”

#clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x you #fluff #valentines day #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson series #cats #don't call my bitch the lightning theif percy!#what was that ending?#11 days late lol #valentines gifts #valentines day fic

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