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constantmourning · 1 year ago

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Confidence

[Price/Fem!Reader] [Gaz/Fem!Reader] [Soap/Fem!Reader] [Simon/Fem!Reader] [Poly!TF 141/Fem!Reader]

Summary: You haven't been feeling too confident lately. Your friends convince you to dress up to feel good, and you send them a picture of the end result. Except, you sent the pictures to the wrong group chat...

Word count: 6.9k (hehe)

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI!! No use of Y/N, Thigh slapping, finger sucking, p in v, lack of protection, creampie (x2), oral (male and female receiving), face sitting, praise, pet names. Let me know if i forgot something please, I'll be happy to tag it if i did!

A/N: Reader is written As PLUS SIZE! There are mentions of fat/stretch marks/self esteem issues and the likes! This got very long I'm sorry but also I hope you enjoy!! Also, half of this is Beta'd, the other half... well, we die like men...

Your confidence had been at an all time low as of late. You weren’t sure what it was, but ever since joining Captain Price and not having your friends there to tell you just how great you looked every day, you really were down in the dumps.

Babes, I’m terribly upset

You text in your group chat with your friends. You waited for their answer. It felt like a century before someone responded.

Dear, what's wrong?

Finally, one of them had answered. You sighed and took a moment to respond.

I’ve been feeling like utter shit lately. Everyone around me is so… not built like me… I think it’s silly, but I don’t always feel beautiful.

You sent in the chat and immediately got a speech bubble.

Babe… I’m gonna tell you what helps me. Dress up all pretty. Do something to make you feel good. I promise it’ll help

You scrunched your face up.

I’ll try it. But if it doesn’t work I’m going to torment you forever

No response. You groaned and sat up. You decided it’d be best to try that. You looked through your things and found a cute underwear set and walked to your bathroom. Momentarily battling about putting on makeup, you decided to try it.

You sat in your bathroom for a good twenty minutes just doing your makeup. You then took another twenty minutes doing your hair. Everything was going to be undone, but if it was going to help you feel better, why not try it? You slipped into the cute underwear, black and lacy. You examined yourself in the mirror and smiled.

Remember, briefing tomorrow morning

-Captain Price

You remembered, and made a mental note to respond to his text a little later. You, instead of responding, began to take pictures of yourself in different positions. Once you were satisfied with some of them. You decided to throw a few into your group chat with your friends.

Validate me babes <3

You set your phone after you sent the pictures and just looked at yourself. You inhaled and placed a hand on your stomach. You pinched the fat there and sighed. Your phone went off, and then went off again. And again.

HUH?

-Gaz

oh fuck

-Soap

Wrong number?

-Ghost

You felt your heart stop. You wanted to vomit and run away and never be seen again by your teammates. Truly thinking about not responding and running away into the night, you scraped your nails through your hair. You grabbed your robe from the door and screamed into it. As loudly as possible without alerting anyone.

You grabbed your phone up and thought about being a grownup. Briefly.

WRONG GROUP CHAT

You then sent a barrage of different sad emojis and hoped the pictures would leave their minds.

There were no responses for the rest of the night. You went to bed just as you were; hair, makeup- You did put on comfortable pajamas though. You lied down and knew- just knew you would be getting an earful in the morning.

You grabbed your phone one last time and sent a group message to your girls, checking this time if it was really them.

Goodbye, I just wanted to say that. Since I will be simply passing away right now.

Immediate response.

What did you do???

I sent pictures to the wrong group chat. To the work group chat…

Your friends both, at the same time, asked what the pictures were. You sent the pictures and said nothing else. The chat erupted. Your friends were spamming you, different emojis, swears, memes. Anything. If they could send it, it was sent.

You lied on your back, looking up at the ceiling and you sighed. You were going to have to be an adult and face the men you really didn’t want to in the morning. You made that a problem for you in the future, and decided that sleep was the best option. You turned your phone off and slowly fell asleep. A pit in your stomach the whole time you waited for unconsciousness to overtake.

You woke up with the exact same pit in your stomach. You threw on your uniform and walked as fast as you could to the room you were meeting at. You wanted to miss Soap, Ghost, or Gaz. You did not want to run into them.

You opened the door to the room and realized you’d be facing Price alone. That was until you saw everyone was already in the room. You looked at your watch. You were early… If you were early, what time did they get there? You did not want to think about it…

No one would look you in the eyes. Their demeanor had changed completely. But no one mentioned the photos. You stood, uncomfortably, away from everyone. You couldn’t take in any information that Price was giving you. You were hyper aware of everyone around you; their body language…

You watched as Soap balled and unballed his fist a couple times. His knuckles white.

Gaz’s chest was rising and lowering a little quicker than usual. You could tell through the gear. His eyes were trained ahead, looking directly at Captain Price.

Speaking of Price, his eyes would look right over you. You weren’t the best at eye contact anyway, but Price was not bad at it. You knew he was trying to be professional.

Your eyes moved to Ghost and they locked onto his. You, immediately looking away, noticed him shift. His eyes didn’t falter though. He seemed to be the only one looking at you.

You shifted your weight, swallowing hard. Gulping down air like your life depended on it. The tension in the room was too much. You wanted to explode. Instead of exploding, you did (in your mind) the second worst thing. You opened your mouth, and words actually came out.

“I’m sorry!”

Everyone went quiet. Price stopped speaking and all eyes were on you. You gulped again and took a step back, distancing yourself even more. Price was the first to speak up. His brow cocked and you waited for his response. “For what?” He did sound genuinely confused, so you didn’t take it as him pretending to be stupid.

“Uh-” Your eyes scanned the room. You did the thing you were best at, word vomit. “Well, I’m sorry for sending those pictures! It was unprofessional and I didn’t check the group I was in- I was just- I meant to send it to-” You stopped yourself.

“To who?” Ghost asked, deadpan. But, you could almost see the smirk under his mask.

You, not knowing how to stop, kept going. “My friends. I wasn’t feeling good last night- Or the past couple o’ weeks really… My friends said, um, doing what I did would help me feel better! I mean, she did not tell me to send the picture in the work chat!” You put your hands up, no one stopping you from continuing. “I just wanted to feel cute… I guess…”

The room went silent. You made a face and held yourself back from stomping your foot or throwing a tantrum. You decided to be an adult, and wait for a response, one that felt like it was never coming. Price, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost all looked at each other before all staring at you. You pouted.

“What?”

“Do friends normally send pictures like that to each other?” Ghost cocked his head at you.

You wanted to throttle him. “Whatever. If this is done, can I leave?”

Price nodded, he knew you had retained nothing, but he didn’t say anything about it. “Free to go.”

You walked out of the room and began to walk towards your room. You felt tears prick your eyes and tried to hold yourself together, at least until you got to the comfort and loneliness of your room. You were seething. You didn’t know why, but you were mad. Mad at how they had acted, mad at how you had acted, and mad that the pictures were sent to them in the first place. You got to your room, slammed your door, and threw yourself down on your bed.

You curled up and decided it was best to skip lunch that day.

A knock came from the other side of your day and you held back the urge to tell whoever it was to go away. You threw yourself out of bed and walked towards the door. Forgetting that you had puffy eyes from crying, you opened the door. Price stood there.

“Hey, you weren’t in the mess hall-” He stopped when you wiped your eyes. “Are you crying?”

You pouted harder. Price sighed. You groaned and moved to the side, motioning for Price to come in. You did not want everyone to see you looking like a mess. Price walked in and you shut the door. You placed your back against it and looked at him.

“Are you alright?” He gave you a concerned look.

“I’m fine.” You lied. Terribly.

Price’s head dropped slightly. “You had said this morning you weren’t feeling-”

“Captain,” You sighed. “I’ll be fine. Just horribly embarrassed. It’ll go back to normal once no one looks at me differently.”

Price’s brows furrowed. “If they don’t?”

You blinked at him. Why would he say that? You felt tears forming again. “Captain-”

“I know you don’t want to hear it from me-” Price started, “And would obviously prefer it from your friends,” He smiled at you softly, and got closer to you, “but, you are stunning. You should not feel the need to be validated, but you should know you are beautiful.”

Something hit you; whether it was the eye contact, what he said, or how he said it, you weren’t sure, but whatever it was sent you into a frenzy. You, without thinking, grabbed Price’s face and kissed him. Hard. Your lips hit his and you realized what you were doing. The kiss was over as fast as it started. You threw yourself back and began to profusely apologize.

“Holy shit!” You were stunned at your actions, “That was so inappropriate, I’m so sorry.”

Price was as stunned as you. You watched him with wide eyes and he processed everything that had just happened. Nothing was being said. It was a deafening silence. Price watched you closely, his eyes dropping from your to your lips. His hands cupped your cheeks and he brought you into another kiss.

You eagerly kissed back, pressing against him. He pushed forward, your back pressing against the door. His tongue traced your bottom lip and you slowly opened your mouth for him. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and nothing was stopping either of you.

Until your stomach growled.

Price pulled away and looked down at you. “Look, you need to eat and I’m not sure we should do this-”

“I want this…” Your voice was barely audible, just loud enough for Price to hear.

“How about…” He paused, “you go eat. And think about this-”

“I’m not going to lie now, Captain Price,” You bit the inside of your lip, “I’ve been thinking about you, and the others for a while now.”

“Me and who?” He questioned you, brows knitting together.

“Um, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost… I think about you four all the time. Um, too much actually.” You stop yourself before going further. “Sorry, that's too much truth.”

Price laughs, “Okay… Go eat. Think on this. Text me when you’ve eaten.”

You nodded. “Yes sir,” You did a little salute. Price moved and let you out from your spot. You opened the door and both of you walked out of your room. You, pretending like Price did not just have his tongue in your mouth, walked off for lunch. As you were leaving, Soap walked up. He looked at Price in confusion.

“Why were ya in her room?”

Price smiled at him. “We may be doing a team bonding exercise later.”

“What does that mean?” Soap was quick to ask. Price was quick to ignore. He started to walk off, away from Soap, agitating him. “C’mon! You can’t say that and then not elaborate!”

Your mind was racing the whole time you ate. You could only focus on one damn thing; your earlier actions. And Price's words. Heat prickled across your cheeks as you ate and you made up your mind.

You wanted to do whatever it was Price had been thinking about.

You finished up your food and began to head back to your room. You just had to get a hold of Price, you had to tell him what you had thought about. But not before coming face to face with Soap.

"What happened earlier?" His brows were furrowed and his lips were turned down. "Wait, have you been crying?"

You groaned. "Fuck, it's still noticeable?" You looked back at Soap, "Where's the Captain?"

It was his turn to groan, "I'll take you to him."

You smiled widely and thanked him. He began to lead you to the barracks, the men's barracks. Your stomach flipped and you felt butterflies instantly. You kept your eyes trained ahead, on the back of Soap. Your heart was racing and your cheeks were burning.

"Did Price get to you first?" Soap turned to ask.

You blinked at him, shocked. "Huh?"

He shook his head, mumbling 'nothing' before leading you Price's door. He knocked and there was silence for a minute, before the door opened. Price's eyes fell from Soap and back to you. Price smiled and motioned for you to come in.

Soap began to leave and you grabbed his hand. "Can he come in too?" Your words caught Soap's attention. He froze and looked back at Price.

Price's smile turned into a toothy grin. "Of course."

You pulled Soap in behind you and Price shut the door. You held Soap's hand like a lifeline, a nervousness taking over that only hand holding could help. Soap didn't seem to mind. You looked at Price with a curious expression and finally asked, "What now?"

"Well, we have to lay down some ground rules, and let Soap in on what's going on."

"Please fucking do! What's going on?"

Price looked at you, for you to tell him. Your stomach turned. You swallowed hard and looked at Soap, letting go of his hand. "Um, I talked with Price this afternoon, before I ate. I told him about-" your eyes cut from Soap to Price, who gave you an encouraging nod, "-about liking the four of you. I thought about it, like you asked," you looked to Price again, "and I'm up for-"

"A team bonding exercise?" Soap asked.

You nodded. "If you wanna call it that."

Soap very much so wanted to call it that. He wanted to bond with his men over you. You were unaware- oblivious to the fact that all of them seemed to want that. But, now, the opportunity had presented itself so perfectly. Soap wanted nothing more than to launch himself at you. But he waited.

"Go get Gaz and Ghost." Price looked at Soap before his eyes hit you. Your heart fluttered and you looked at Soap, who was ready to protest.

"Why do I have to go get them? Call them!" Soap's hand snaked around your waist.

"Soap…" Price's eyes narrowed. "I'll take care of her, go get them." Price pulled you from Soap's grasp and Soap groaned. He mumbled a 'whatever' under his breath and left the room.

You watched Soap refrain from slamming the door and moved your gaze to your Captain. You bit the inside of your lip and your arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, hugging yourself.

"C'mere." Price motioned you over. Your feet were heavy and your eyes were wide. You couldn’t move. You inhaled sharply and your hands dropped to your sides. Price watched you like a hawk, “You still up or this? You can back out at any time.” You only nodded. “We’ll set ground rules as soon as Soap gets back with the boys.”

“Until then?” You asked, head cocking to the side.

“We can do whatever you want.”

You nodded again. Anxiety crept in, and even though you knew you could do what you wanted, you needed to ask. “Can I kiss you?” You whispered. Price nodded. You were on him in an instant. Your lips were on his, arms wrapped around his neck. He smiled into the kiss. This time, you traced your tongue over his bottom lip. He eagerly opened his mouth for you, and your tongue slipped in.

Price’s teeth ever so slightly bit down, gently scraping your tongue. You moaned. Price smiled again. His hands rested on your hips and he pulled you closer to him. He began to back up and he soon reached his bed. He sat down on the edge of it and you froze. Suddenly, you were aware, very much so, of him and yourself. You looked at Price, he looked up at you through his lashes.

Without saying a word, he placed his hand on his upper thigh, and patted. Everything in you screamed for you to sit down, but you were stuck standing in front of him. Price’s lips turned downward and his brows furrowed. You shifted your weight and looked at him with an apologetic expression.

“Love,” Price reached his hand out for you, “what’s wrong?”

You grabbed his hand and sighed, “I don’t wanna sit on your lap because, what if-” You stopped yourself. Price’s brows furrowed and he asked for you to continue. You refused.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

You threw your head back and whined, “I don’t wanna be too heavy.” You didn’t want to say it too loud. You felt silly enough already. But it was a real fear, being rejected because of your weight.

Price gave you a soft smile, “Don’t even think that way, I promise it’ll be fine.” Price motioned for you, once again, to sit on his lap. So, you did. You didn’t place all of your weight immediately, and he could tell you obviously didn’t want to. So he would coax you. You were sitting on one of his thighs, uncomfortably if you were being honest. Until Price took matters into his own hands.

Price’s heel rose from the floor, catching you off guard. Your back arched and you grabbed his shoulders. “What are you-” His foot dropped, taking all of you with it. All of your weight pressed down on his thigh now, and as soon as his foot hit the floor his hands were on your hips. You instinctively grinded into him and let out an embarrassing whimper.

The door of the room opened and you looked back, unmoving. Soap and Gaz walked into the room, and your heart jumped into your throat when Ghost walked in right behind them. He closed the door and everyone was staring at you. You wanted to hide your face but there was nowhere to hide. Your whole body was hot and you couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of their eyes on you and how good Price’s thigh felt against you. Price lifted his heel again, and before you could prepare yourself, it hit the ground. You moaned.

“What the fuck?” You grumbled.

“Sorry, love,” Price smiled, “I had to show them your reaction.” Price gripped your hip before releasing it and looking at the guys. “There are some things we need to go over before we get down to business.” Soap, Ghost, and Gaz all nodded, listening closely. “We need a safe word.”

They all looked at you. You were confused momentarily. “Uh, red? Like y’know, green, yellow and red? If I’m good I’ll tell you green, if I’m iffy I’ll tell you yellow, and red is just hard stop.”

They all nodded in agreement with you. Soap was the first to speak up, “What first?” You shrugged, feeling very shy all the sudden. Price gripped your hip before releasing it, and you looked at him for reassurance.

“You decide, darling.” Price looked back at the guys and then at you, “Who first?”

You said the first thing that came to your mind. “Gaz.” You looked back at him and watched him ball his fists, before relaxing. He smirked at you and Price stood you up. “You’re feelings aren’t hurt right?” You looked around the room.

“Bonnie,” Soap smiled at you, “we’ll all get a chance, no hard feelings.”

“You’re just saying that,” Gaz elbowed him, “You wanted to be first.” He then promptly ignored Soap’s angry stare and approached you. Price stood up from his bed and he, Ghost, and Soap watched you closely. Your body was set ablaze and you just focused on Gaz.

“Please, kiss me?” Your voice was soft, your arms behind your back. Eyes cutting through your lashes as you looked at Gaz. You did not have to ask again. He was on you instantly and his hands were cupping your face.

He backed you towards the bed and you fell down. You scooted up the bed and Gaz was on you again. This time, he was kissing your neck. Your mewls filled the room. You had no clue what to do with your hands. You were pulling at the sheets and then started to pull at Gaz’s shirt. He eagerly pulled it off.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, yeah?” He asked, so politely, how could you deny him?

“I don’t know…” You answered. Suddenly, you couldn’t look him in the eyes. You were staring at the ceiling and playing with the cover beneath you.

“You don’t have to,” Gaz nuzzled your neck, nipping the sensitive skin. “We can work towards that.”

You nodded, “Okay,” a breathy whisper escaped you. Gaz worked wonder with his hands, he grabbed at your hips and his fingers ran up your side, just under your shirt, causing you to gasp. Goosebumps rose on your skin. With eyes shut tight, you spoke up, “You can take my shirt off.”

Gaz smiled into your neck and pushed himself up. You sat up and helped Gaz help you out of your shirt. You sat there in your bra and the cool air made you realize what you had just done. Your hands went to cover your abdomen and Gaz frowned. He placed a hand on yours but did not dare move your hands away from you.

“You’re beautiful… I-” He stopped himself, “We can show you that if we need to.”

You bit the inside of your lip, “I’m gonna be honest. I’ve never felt comfortable in these situations… Well, actually, I’ve never been in this situation, with multiple men… I never even felt comfortable with just one.”

The energy in the room shifted immediately. Before, it was just horny, then it quickly changed to something more serious. Gaz nodded, understanding. “We can stop if you get too uncomfortable. Where are you right now?”

“Green.” You grew more comfortable, even if it was just with him at that moment. You moved your hands from your stomach and placed them, palms down on the cover, beside you. Gaz gave you a soft smile and nodded. “You can continue.” You reassured him. He did just that.

You leaned back on the bed and let Gaz take over again. His hands ran up your sides and towards your bra. You arched your back and let him unclasp it. You shimmied out of it and he threw it to the side. You laid back on the mattress and looked up at Gaz, who was staring at you as if you were a gift from whatever God was listening to him when he prayed.

One of his hands moved for your chest and you gasped. His hands were warm and calloused and something about his touch was so calming. He massaged your breast and lowered himself to your neck again. Your back arched harder and your hips bucked upwards slightly, causing Gaz to groan into your neck.

You had almost forgotten other men were in the room. Almost. "Ugh" Soap groaned, "could you go any slower, Gaz?" You laughed at his remark. Genuine and loud. Gaz grumbled into your neck and pushed himself up.

"I'm going to ignore him now," Gaz looked dead at you, you were the only one in the room according to him. You smiled at him and nodded. Gaz kissed your jawline, down your throat and headed for your chest. He briefly paused at your nipples, a hand playing with one while the other got sucked on. You moaned and whined at him, the sound of the other men shuffling around the room not even detering you.

Gaz's hands moved towards your belt and you tensed. You said nothing though. But Gaz still noticed you tense. He froze and looked up at you, one of his brows cocking. "Green," you whispered, still focusing only on him. He gave a nod and made quick work of your belt. It was pulled off of you in no time. You kicked off your shoes and Gaz began to pull down your pants. You lifted your hips to make it easier, and soon enough you were just laying there in your panties.

You were nearly completely exposed to them. Your thighs, stomach, stretch marks, all of it on display. Part of you didn't care, but part of you was terrified. Gaz's fingers gently traced your stretch marks and you froze up.

"Yellow." You blurted out, without really thinking.

Gaz was off of you in an instant. "You okay, love?" Price and Gaz asked at the same time.

"Uh, sorry," You sat up, resting on your forearms, "not used to this attention. I was a little uncomfortable." They all looked at you, attentively. "We can continue."

"How would you feel…" Gaz trailed off, thinking hard, his fingers tracing patterns on your thighs again. "Sitting on my face?"

Your heart jumped into your throat. How were you going to survive? Your eyes widened and you pulled yourself up, trying to comfort yourself. "What if… what if it's too much?"

"What?" Gaz, seemingly genuinely confused, cocked his head. "What if what's too much?"

You gave him a deadpan expression as if he should know. "I don't wanna crush you with my thighs!"

"What an honorable and lovely way to go, though!" Gaz gave you a goofy grin.

You thought for a moment, "Okay, but can we do it my way?" You played with the sheets beneath you. Gaz hummed, asking what your way was. "Uh, you lay on the floor and I'll sit on your face." Your face was suddenly burning as you said the rest of your thought, "So I can I suck one of their dicks." Your words ran together and you tried to hide your face.

"Hey, no need to be shy now!" Gaz comforted you. "Anyway, I'm sure I know one of them is absolutely dying for you to suck his dick." Gaz whispered to you. You laughed, causing the others to wonder what was being said.

Gaz moved off of you and got on the floor. He laid down and patted his chin, waiting for you to get up and take a seat on his face. The others looked at you with confusion. They couldn't help but wonder what you had planned. You stood up and wondered how to not awkwardly take your panties off. You decided it didn't have to be awkward, you were with four men who were ready to throw themselves at you (well, Ghost hadn't yet…), you didn't need to feel so self conscious.

Yet, there you were, being self conscious. "Do you have to watch me while I take off my panties?"

"Well, what else are we supposed to watch, love?" Ghost adjusted himself, causing a pit to form in your stomach.

You grumbled a 'fine', and slid off your panties. You made your way to Gaz, who was more than ready to devour you. You got on your knees, one on each side of his head and looked at the other guys. Gaz placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer down to him.

"Don't be afraid to sit all the way down." He smiled against your thigh, causing you to melt.

"Soap," You had said his name with a lust in your voice you weren't sure you were capable of. He perked up. "C'mere." You motioned for him to come over. He was on you as soon as possible.

"May I?" You grabbed up at his belt. Gaz kissed up your thigh, closing in on your pussy. Your thighs clenched around him without you meaning to and you immediately apologized.

"Fuck," Soap groaned, "You're so gorgeous…" That caused you to look back up at him through your lashes. Soap was promptly pulling his belt off for you. He unbuttoned and unzipped them so fast you were unable to process his movements.

Gaz licked a stripe up your pussy and you gasped. “Fuck…” Your voice was soft and weak. You focused back on Soap and looked up at him. Your hands moved to his waistband and you bit your bottom lip. You pulled at his underwear and you were immediately at eye level with his cock. Your hand wrapped around it and you began to softly pump it, the head already dripping precum. You slid his dick into your mouth.

Everything was going on at once. You were trying to focus on Gaz absolutely going to town on you, you were trying to focus on sucking Soap’s soul straight from his body, while also trying to focus on looking okay for Ghost and Price. Which, in all honesty, you didn’t need to try to do that at all. In their minds you were already perfect.

Soap’s cock hit the back of your throat and you gagged. You couldn't help it. Soap's hands tangled in your hair and he held you steady, which you were thankful for. Gaz was putting his mouth to good use and you needed all the help you could get. If you weren't so concerned with Gaz and Soap you would have heard Ghost and Price groaning and grunting on the other side of the room.

You looked up at Soap, tears pricking your eyes, and he pulled your hair, guiding you up and down his cock. "Good girl," he grunted, causing you to have a reaction.

Gaz was going to town under you. His tongue lapping you up as quickly as possible. His hands gripped your hips tight, holding you down while his fingers dug into the skin. You lost it. You settled completely on Gaz's face and moaned onto Soap's cock. Gaz's nose rubbed against your clit and you were sent over the edge immediately. You gripped Soap's outer thigh and tried your best to keep going as your first orgasm hit you. Soap saw you struggling and pulled away, leaving you a mess.

"Kyle!" You moaned out. Gaz did not slow. In fact, you saying his name only caused him to go harder. Your hands hit the floor and your nails dug into the wood. You started to grind onto Gaz's face, a whining and whimpering mess. No words were forming. At least not properly. "Please- Fuck, I-"

Gaz slowed and his grip loosened on you. You pushed yourself up, or tried, Gaz helped you move off his mouth and you were left sitting on your knees, hunched over and reeling.

"Holy shit."

"You still good?" Ghost asked from across the room. You nodded. "Wonderful, because we're just getting started."

You looked up and noticed Ghost was still in uniform. He had obviously been masturbating, but he was fully clothed. Price however, was not. He stood naked, his hand pumping away at his cock. You wanted him. He caught your glance and immediately stopped jacking off. You sat up straight but your eyes cut away from him.

"Mind if I join, dear?" He smirked at you. Words were still not forming. You motioned for him to walk over and made his way towards you. He easily pulled you up and walked you over to the bed. He set you down and you took a moment to catch your breath. You looked up at Price, and sighed.

"I forgot to mention," you finally formed a sentence, "I'm on birth control." Price smiled at this. It was your way of saying 'Please rawdog me right now' and he understood instantly. He lowered himself to your level, lips pressing to your ear.

"Wanna be on top?" Price whispered, chills running up your spine.

"I don't know…"

"Whatever you want to do is fine, love, but I'd love to watch you ride my cock-"

"Okay." You are hooked instantly. His tone, his accent? He did not have to repeat himself. Before you knew it, he was laying on the bed and you were positioned over him. You grabbed his cock and started to gently rub up and down it, before lowering yourself onto him. You whimpered, Price steadying you. He watched you closely.

“Good girl, that’s it,” He grunted. His hands rested on your thighs. You were still so sensitive. You had a feeling you were going to be sensitive for the rest of the day.

“Captain…” You moaned out, not entirely sure where it came from. But it did something to Price. His hips bucked up immediately. You gasped. You were bouncing up and down, slowly at first. Your hands rested on Price’s chest to steady yourself, your legs still wobbly from the earlier interaction with Gaz.

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the room. Your whimpers and all of their groans and grunts filled the barracks, most likely. Your pace picked up and Price slapped his hand against your thigh, the smack ringing in your ears. The sting only turned you on more. “Fuck,” Price’s teeth were gritted, “love, you’re taking me so well.”

Your eyes shut tight and your mouth fell agape. One of your hands grabbed his, the one that rested on your thigh, and you were coming undone again. “John-” You stuttered out his name, “John, I’m gonna-”

Your movements slowed, but Price kept bucking his hips, causing your second orgasm to hit faster than you thought. A string of curses left your lips and your eyes rolled in the back of your head. Your stomach was in knots as you clenched around Price.

“Love, I’m-” He was so close… “Where?”

“Inside.” It was so clear and coherent. Price did not argue.

His hips bucked up a couple more times and suddenly he was cumming as well. You leaned down and your whole body tensed. The feeling of his cum spilling out and rolling down your thighs was all you could think about. Price pushed himself up and kissed you, catching you off guard. You were kissing until one of the guys stopped groaning and spoke up.

“My turn.”

You pulled away from Price and looked over your shoulder. Ghost. You blinked at him a few times and Price moved you off of him. He stood up and let Ghost approach you. Ghost looked at Soap and motioned for him to get behind you on the bed.

“This okay?” Soap asked.

“Yeah-” You started. Ghost clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Oh. Green.”

“Atta girl,” The tone in Ghost’s voice caught you off guard. You looked up at him with wide eyes. “Sorry, love,” He began to pull his pants down, “but I’m not letting you on top. And the mask isn’t coming off.”

You nodded. Soap was behind you holding you. You began to wonder if Soap and Ghost had done something like this before… You, however, did not wonder for long. Ghost was on you quick, his mask pulled up slightly to kiss you. His hand was placed under your chin, keeping you in place. He pulled away from you and looked down at you, his eyes locking with yours.

Ghost’s fingers slipped down to your dripping pussy and he slid two fingers into you. He kept eye contact with you as he fingered you. You shut your eyes as he hit a spot you had never had someone reach with just their fingers and he clicked his tongue again.

“Look at me.” Ghost’s voice was gruff. Your eyes snapped back open and your chest heaved. “Good girl.” You were stuck trying to form a sentence again, and the word Ghost slid from your lips, but nothing else was intelligible. “Simon,” He leaned down to your ear, “You can call me Simon.”

You were sent into a frenzy. Your hips bucked up and as he dragged his fingers out of you, your hips tried to follow. You were putty in his hands. You were a blubbering mess once again. Another orgasm hit and you cried out for Simon. Your eyes screwed shut and you gripped onto Soap, who was still right behind you.

Simon pulled his fingers from you and slid them into your open mouth. “Suck.” He demanded. You looked at him through half shut eyes and shut your mouth, sucking on his fingers. Simon smiled under his mask, you could see him smirking under it as you eagerly sucked his fingers. He removed them from your mouth with a ‘pop’ and you watched him, waiting for his next move. Waiting to see what was next.

Simon grabbed your chin and made sure you stayed looking at him. “I’m going to fuck you, is that alright?” You nodded and he continued, “Soap is going to be here for moral support.” He patted your thigh. Soap’s hands rested on your hips, and as Simon said that, he gripped you tighter and placed a kiss on your shoulder.

‘Fuck,’ You thought, reeling from everything going on, ‘I’m going to need fucking support?’ You prepared yourself for what was to come. Simon told you to position yourself, and Soap, seeming to know the drill, helped you while Simon took his clothes off. Simon was completely naked except for his mask, and you were staring. Staring, and staring. Your head was resting on Soap’s stomach, and Soap was leaning back against the headboard of the bed. Simon crawled onto the bed and leaned over you, angling himself at your entrance. His eyes cut to Soap and moved back to you.

“Green,” You were eager for him to continue. So he did. Simon’s hips thrusted into yours, his pace slow and steady. Your legs were quick to wrap around his waist and Soap rubbed your shoulders. He whispered how good you were, how amazing you had been, and how hot you looked taking Simon’s cock.

Your cries grew louder, and you begged and pleaded for Simon to go faster. Simon grunted as he did so. His pace picked up and you were being plowed into within seconds of asking. Your head rocked back and you looked at Soap.

“Johnny-” You whined, tears pricked your eyes, “Fuck-” You reached up for Soap, who was hard again, you could feel it, and you touched his face. Soap mumbled some swears but was quick to encourage you some more. “I can’t- Uhn-” Your legs tightened around Simon’s waist and you cried for him. His name ripped from your lips and you said it over and over. Moaning for more. Simon did not stop.

“You can-” Your words caught in your throat, “You can cum inside-”

Simon wasn’t far off from you. You were laying there, whining and mewling as he continued to wreck you. His thrusts began to pick up speed once more, until he finally came as well. His hips slowed slightly, and he placed his face in your neck. He moaned out your name and your stomach flipped.

Soap placed and a kiss on your forehead. “We can take a break if you need to?” You couldn’t answer. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Simon pulled out of you and you lied there in Soap’s arms for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. “Come on,” Price walked over to the bed, “Let’s get cleaned up.”

You didn’t move. Your legs felt wobbly and your brain was foggy. Your eyes cut over towards Price and you saw Gaz grow concerned. “You good?” He asked. You finally processed his words and gave a lazy thumbs up. This elicited a laugh from Simon.

After a couple minutes and Soap trying to get up, you stopped him. Your hand grabbed his bicep, “Wait,” Your voice was slightly hoarse from all the noises you had been making, “is this-” You froze momentarily, “Is this a one time thing?”

You could see them all look at each other and then back at you. They all started talking at the same time, “No!” “Of course not!” and “Do you want it to be?”

You sighed in contentment , “I think I could go for the occasional team bonding… If you guys are up for it of course!”

“Absolutely,” Simon leaned over you, “Now we really need to get this mess cleaned up.”

You smiled, agreeing, and let them help you. You had felt more confident than before, and while you knew you didn’t need to rely on others to make you feel that way, you hoped that whatever happened could continue.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #captain john price #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod smut #john price #gaz smut #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #soap smut #soap cod #ghost smut #simon riley smut #john price smut #task force 141

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la2yn0va · 4 months ago

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General Yandere Feixiao Headcanons.

CW: Yandere general warnings.

Notes: I can’t sleep for shit so have this. Also I don’t know what y’all’s personality is so imma just use mine.

———

Feixiao had never considered falling in love. Ever since she escaped the borisin, her whole life she molded herself into being a weapon.

Training herself to be the piercing arrow of the hunt. Having a lover would be a distraction. But, when she became the general of yaoqing, she did start getting curious at the prospect.

She wouldn’t go out of her way to find a lover, but she was interested in the whole love life. Guess it was inevitably that she’d grow curious of such a life.

Witnessing the closeness of two beings and the smiles that was immediately carved into their faces when they saw/were near each other was… beautiful. Could she actually experience such a moment with another?

Time passes and the whole thing becomes a small itch in the back of her mind. Not giving it much, if any thought at all.

But then, she met a cloud knight in training. Walking to the barracks to greet the newly appointed soldiers, she noticed one was missing. So, once she finished a speech she made on the spot, she went looking for this missing knight, and found him on the training field.

She watched, impressed by your skill. Clearly, you had some latent potential and talent for martial arts. The way you skillfully displayed your skills against an innocent training dummy was almost… mesmerizing to her.

She could do those moves without giving it any actual thought, but for some reason. Seeing you preform the moves were… beautiful to her eyes.

Time passes, and she’d always be watching you train. It’s all you ever did, you refused to do the common things like patrolling or helping civilians, only ever training or going onto the battlefield.

Her heart starts beating in a beautiful rhythmic song everytime you even appear in her head. What was wrong with her?! This was no way appropriate!

But slowly and eventually, that itch for you would grow and grow into an unsustainable obsession. She sees you beside her at all times, she sees you in her bed with the most adorable sleeping face she’d ever seen, even in the shower with her.

Luckily, she had already made efforts to befriend you. So that was the first step finished already, now she just needs to have you all to herself, convince you to stop your military service and live with her! Should be easy, you’re not exactly a social person.

So imagine her surprise when she finds you chatting with another girl. The smile on your face, the repressed laughter that escaped your mouth, the released demeanor… all that was meant for HER and HER ONLY…was being gifted to a random girl!

Her feelings bubbled up, her eye twitching and her body shaking as her breathing increased in speed. Her eyes holding disdain, disgust, and anger. Anger that you’d betray her like this…!! No, no that wasn’t the origin of her anger. It was that woman, who dared to pry down your walls and force you to smile and laugh with her!!

She walks over to you, announcing her presence and requesting your presence for a.. ‘mission’. Much to her joy, you agree instantly. She picked you up and immediately ran off, before the woman could manipulate your decision or loyalty in anyway.

M/n: G-General—! What’s the meaning of this?!

Feixiao: Call me Feixiao.

M/n: Uh…O-okay? Feixiao…what’s my mission?

Feixiao: Simple~ Your mission is to go on a date with me~

M/n:….W-What…?

Feixiao smirked, finding your confused and blushing face just adorable. Caressing now red face, she repeated her command

The whole date went smoothly, in Feixiao’s opinion and your inexperienced opinion. Feixiao just loved your adorable little questions. ‘Why do you find me attractive?’ ‘Is this appropriate?’ ‘Shouldn’t you date someone more acceptable? Like another general?’ Such cute dumb little questions.

Since the first date, feixiao immediately made it official, and well… you accepted. Cause what the fuck are you gonna do saying no to FEIXIAO?

-Alright now let’s do the alphabet-

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

She shows her love by spoiling you rotten, forcing you to sit on her lap ANYTIME your in her office for any reason/any amount of time.

It gets intense whenever people try to make a move on you, that’s when she loudly, pridefully, and possessives announce that your hers.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

She’s willing to kill, but only if someone kisses you or you tell her to kill said person. But, if her borisin nature gets the better of her, she’ll just kill anyone who so much as LOOKS at you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

God no. She could never mock you. Unless you consider her daily routine of reminding you that your HERS, and always having her hands on you.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Nope. She doesn’t wish for you to feel like a slave… Except that you can’t compliment another women. Dont you fuckin dare scare her like that!

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Very vulnerable, her heart when she’s with you is an open book. She doesn’t want secrets between you and her, so she keeps things blunt with you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Annoyed, Saddened, and Angered. How could you hurt her like this? After everything she did for you…! No, no it’s someone else fooling you! She’ll deal with this person.

You’ll be punished for being naughty and daring to be kind enough to entertain the idea that SHES bad for you. Or WANTING to escape her.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

50/50. One half hates and is angered that you try to escape. The other half LOVES this thrill. The hunt, the possible danger of your escape! It’s utterly thrilling, and you’re just adorable for even thinking you could escape her.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

One day, feixiao comes home with feral eyes. Her breath ragged and quick. She pushed you down against the ground and treats you like a prey, like a borisin.

She cuts you, loving your delicious screams and the blood the makes your skin glow. Harshly squeezing your body and neck, loving your delicate skin.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Yes. She gets jealous, extremely jealous. She lashes out and copes. She lashes out at a punching bag, imagining the bitch who made her feel like this.

She copes by having you in her arms and kissing you, while FORCING you to kiss her back and hold her while having you cuddled up in her chest or nuzzled up in her neck.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Love sick and down bad. She’s desperate for your attention, and praises. Anytime you two are alone, she keeps you onto her lap and places thousands if not millions of kisses and licks on your face, neck, and collarbone.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

If she wants to marry you, she’ll go all out. You deserve nothing short of the entire xianzhou after all! She makes sure everything is perfect, making jiaoqiu cook up the best food you’ll EVER eat in your life.

Having moze and the entire cloud knights kill any abomination or enemy that would dare make a move on this day.

Keeping you on her lap, she feeds you carefully, making sure there isn’t a chance you choke on anything, then, when your full and have a happy cute smile on your face, would she present you with marriage documents. She already slipped the ring on your finger.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Nah.. I think? She’s just more open around you… and clingy… possessive… obsessive…lovesick……. Okay maybe slightly different.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Never, she’d never punish you. You’re just confused, and she’ll be here to clear you pretty little mind of all and any strings.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Uhhhhh… freedom of speech? You can NOT compliment ANY girls, unless you want a jealous feixiao. (Or just want to get fucked)

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Extremely patience. Unless her moon rage is in effect, which lowers her patience down to a string. A single word or movement of disobedience and she’ll PUNISH you.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you die, it’ll shatter her, she will never recover. She’ll keep your dead body with her, and keep you clean.

If you leave, you end up back in her house, chained and locked up, and her yandereness will increase 10 folds.

If you escape, you’ll be hunted by a feixiao who’s being controlled by her moon rage, viewing you as prey to be beaten down and forced a certain lesson, dragging you back home, and getting more and more obsessive.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No. Unless you say you feel more like a slave than a lover, then it’ll stab her heart, and make her second guess herself.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Curiosity, and Childhood. Being deprived of love with the borisin and only being given SOME love from General Yueyu while being feared by others made her like this.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

It damages her very soul. To see your pretty face fucked up by tears, your jaw aching from screaming, or isolating yourself away from her gets to her.

If you’re hurting in anyway, she’s hurting. No matter how small or insignificant, if you’re sad, she’s depressed. If you’re annoyed, she’s enraged.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

No…? She wouldn’t result to murder IMMEDIATELY i guess….?

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Call yourself a slave, she’ll never recover from making you feel that way. If you’re truly unhappy or want to escape, abuse that word, it causes immense mental and psychological damage and stress for her.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Not internally or normally. (I’m sure yall saw this coming) Moon Rage feixiao WOULD hurt you.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Any length. Money, murder, acts of service. She’ll worship you as her only string of happiness.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Probably a full year. She physical cannot wait longer to have you for herself, she can’t STAND your kindness being given to others!

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

No. Not even MR!Feixiao (moon rage) she loves you just how you are. And she intends to protect you, even when she becomes the arrow of the hunt, she’ll find a way for YOU to come with her.

#honkai star rail #hsr #male reader #yandere #feixiao x male reader #yandere feixiao x male reader #feixiao #feixiao hsr #feixiao honkai star rail #honkai star rail x male reader #hsr x male reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail x male reader #yandere hsr x male reader #yandere alphabet

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cupidseok · 1 year ago

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hiii, do you think you could write about how riize would confess to their partner? the members are soo different from each other so i really wonder how it’d be for each member!

how riize would confess

AUTHOR'S NOTE happy early valentines to everyone seeing this <3 posting this early as i'll be away for cny,, happy cny to those celebrating too !

🩰 — SHOTARO invites you to his dance practice

shotaro who was over the moon when you told him that you thought he looked the coolest when he was dancing. so he decided to ask you to come watch him practice for his upcoming performance. he has never invited someone over to watch him dance before. dance was something he held so close to his heart.

he wants to impress you so badly :( but because he was nervous, he didn’t do well. you questioned him when you noticed how shotaro looked so tense and stiff. you knew shotaro was an amazing dancer, so you were concerned that he wasn’t feeling well.

“i’m nervous because someone i like is watching me.”

🗒️ — you find a post-it note on your desk from EUNSEOK

ever since you and eunseok have been assigned as seatmates, he has never stopped doodling little doraemons on the corners of your notebooks and worksheets. even when you slapped his hands away and asked him to stop ( because you actually wanted to pay attention ! why was he disturbing you >:( ) he would only softly laugh at you before proceeding to doodle on post-it notes and then passing them to you at the end of class.

one day, his doraemon looked a little different !! it had a little speech bubble that said, “i like you.” your heart almost stopped when you read it, but you knew eunseok liked to play little pranks on you, so you just ignored him.

“why are you not replying to my doraemon ? do you not like me ?”

proof that eunseok is picasso reincarnated :

📓 — SUNGCHAN has made a scrapbook for you

“for you,” sungchan mutters as he shoves a scrapbook in your hands. it definitely wasn’t the prettiest scrapbook you’ve seen; the pages were unevenly cut ( was that a coffee stain ? ), the photos were haphazardly glued and the stickers were plastered without any regard to a colour scheme.

hugging the scrapbook to your chest, you knew he probably spent weeks or even months on this, pouring his heart out on each and every page. jung sungchan was built for sports, not arts and crafts. you could tell by the remnants of glue stuck on his fingertips and specks of glitter under his left eye. but you, you were built for arts and crafts. and it touched you that he was willing to step into your world.

“if the time and effort i spent on the scrapbook isn’t enough to show my love for you, i’ll say it verbally too. i love you.”

💌 — you've received a love letter from WONBIN

heart pounding, cheeks flushed, tightly clutching his love letter, so many thoughts were rushing through wonbin’s head. was the twenty-fifth draft better ? his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to recall what he wrote on each draft. no time to think; you were here already.

you flashed him a soft smile and his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red ( he felt like he was burning up ). “hey wonbin, why did you ask to meet m-” he swiftly pressed the now slightly crumpled love letter into your palm and quickly retreated before you could even respond. he couldn’t bear to see your reaction.

hi, this is wonbin. i like you, if it wasn’t already obvious enough. and i’m so sorry if this letter shocked you; i just needed to get it off my chest…

☀️ — SEUNGHAN brings you on a picnic

you remind seunghan of the sun. you were bright and burning like the sun at noon; your ambition was something he greatly admired. however, he wished you’d stop burning yourself away. that was his job – to keep you from shining too brightly and giving too much of yourself away. you were also soft and gentle like the sun in the morning, always willing to care for others and always so kind and forgiving to those who do not deserve it.

but when you’re seated next to him on the red and white checkered mat, he concludes that you remind him the most of the sun during the golden hour. beautiful, warm and fleeting. except he wishes to stay by your side forever.

“the sun is setting so fast.”

“it is, isn’t it.”

“i wish the sun would never set. i don’t want our time together to come to an end.”

🐵 — SOHEE gifts you a cute memento

“monchhichi !” sohee looks up from his book at the call of his nickname. ah, you were here to disturb him again. “what are you doing ?” you peeked over his shoulder. his heart almost fell out at the close proximity. did you truly have no idea of the effect you had on him ? or were you doing this on purpose ?

“i have something for you.” sohee stuffs his hand into his backpack, digging around. he pulled a monchhichi keychain and dangled it in front of your face. “monchhichi !” you let out a gasp of surprise. “did you really buy this for me ?”

“i’m going back to my hometown for a couple of weeks. i got it in case you’ll miss me.”

how monchhichi looks like just in case anyone doesn't know :

🎧 — ANTON has sent you a mp3 file

anton <3

hi :) i made this for you. attached – mp3 file.

you sat down in front of your computer, still drying your wet hair. you had seen his message before you showered, but you felt too nervous to open it right away. heart fluttering in anticipation, you clicked on the file he sent.

folder 1 : songs i wrote for you

folder 2 : a playlist of songs that reminded me of you

folder 3 : my message to you

mouse hovering over folder 3 after you’ve listened to folders 1 and 2, you thought that anton was truly an angel sent from heaven. to love someone so deeply, to compose a song for them, to make a playlist for them.

a robotic computer voice read out, “folder 3, my message to you. now playing.”

your surroundings slowly fading as you focused on anton’s voice, “hi. you’ve probably listened to the other two folders already, right ? if you haven’t, you better listen to them first before continuing…”

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piratefishmama · 2 years ago

Text

Angel | Steddie Oneshot

Eddie Munson never believed that he’d go to Heaven. Sure he’d been raised in a catholic household, his uncle was religious, he’d been raised to give thanks for the food they ate, to pray before bed that should he not wake, his soul the lord take an all that jazz.

Wouldn’t believe it to look at him, to hear the songs he sang, the music he played. Wouldn’t believe how he’d been raised if one were to go by covers instead of contents.

But despite his upbringing in the very catholic Munson Trailer of Forest Hills Trailer Park, he never believed he’d go to heaven. Something about queers and submitting to sin and blah blah blah it’d been a long-ass time since his last confession, but Uncle Wayne stopped reminding him a few years back, so he had an excuse to keep ‘forgetting’ to do it.

Turns out, one did not need to go to confession to make it to heaven!

Angels would just. Turn up, apparently.

Maybe he’d done something good that he wasn’t aware of, he did go to that Make A Wish thing a few weeks back, DM’d a whole one shot for the kids, he’d spent hours there, a whole dang day just… hanging out with sick kids.

Maybe that was it. Maybe that was what brought this heavenly creature to his side.

To cut a long story short, he was on stage one minute, belting out the lyrics from the final verse of the last song in their set ‘Into the Underdark’, Jeff was slipping into the ending guitar solo, Eddie was gearing up for an end of gig crowd surf and the next.

The next he was looking into a bright, blinding light that kept moving between his eyes.

He’d always been told not to go to the light. If you see it? Don’t go to it, going to it would make whatever trip you were going on a one way ticket, there was no going back when you reached that light. Just hang back, wait for the resuscitation, it’d happen, someone would breathe life back into you, or whack you with enough voltage to get that heart kickin again, just don’t go into that light.

That light was way too close to his eyes, and he couldn’t swat it away. His arms felt tied down. Rude.

And then the light was gone, had he reached it? Was that it? One way ticket stub punched, sorry Earth, Munson out. “Mr Munson? Can you hear me?” Oh what heavenly chorus, the light had momentarily blinded him but shit… when his sight came back, at least enough to make out the vague shape of a very square jaw, of angular features, of warm hazel eyes, and a luscious head of hair surrounded by a halo of brilliant white light.

Angel. He had an audience with an Angel. It could only be an Angel. Neat.

He’d enjoy the ‘I Told You So’ he got from his uncle whenever the old goat made it up there he hoped it wouldn’t be soon though, he’d prefer a longer wait than a short one, thanks.

“Mnn… I hear you big boy, are you sure I’m in the right place though? I’ve been told Heaven wouldn’t want me” it sounded smooth in his head, but he was pretty sure he slurred half the words.

How could he have a slurred voice in Heaven? That didn’t seem fair.

Oh he’d forgive the slurred speech bit if the angel kept making that wonderful music with his vocal chords, that little giggle of a laugh, so bubbly and sweet, yep. Somehow he’d weaselled his way into Heaven. Suck it soccer moms. “Well, at least you can summon the strength to be charming.”

He was charming? An angel thought he was charming? Hell yeah, he’d rock this heaven shit, he already had an in with the big, winged boys!

“I can summon the strength for other stuff too, worship ain’t ever really been my thing but, baby I think I can learn for a literal Angel” he’d subject himself to an afterlife on his knees gladly if it meant he’d have his hands curled around this creature’s thighs, his mouth on—

“Oh wow…” Eddie couldn’t really see it properly thanks to the lovely blinding spots in his eyes that was no doubt his eyes adjusting to heavenly light, but he was sure his angel was blushing, he sounded a little breathless. Good. “You’re uh… wow”

Eddie hadn’t had much charm before becoming world famous but, he’d gained a little experience. Women and men alike throwing themselves at him, knowing he wasn’t all that fussed, babes were babes. All genders welcome to hop on and take a ride. He knew it was mostly the fame, he was still the same nerd he’d been back in high school, but… if fame got him laid then fame got him laid.

At the very least it gave him the experience to flirt with one of Gods pretty little birds. Maybe even score if the reaction he got was any indication.

So much for lust being a punishable sin, huzzah.

Steve was having a day. Okay no, Steve was having a whole week. The only upside to his overtime riddled ass, was that Robin had been on the majority of his shifts with him, so they could at least talk in the ambulance while they roamed the streets waiting for chaos to drop.

Monday, it’d been a seven car pileup on the highway, a few lost limbs, no fatalities but one hell of a close call on two accounts.

Tuesday, it’d been a tumble at a care home resulting in a popped hip and some heavy flirting from a few old ladies. Poor Robin suffering it from a few old men trying to shoot a shot they didn’t have.

Wednesday it’d been crisis after crisis resulting in him not finishing his shift until six hours after he was meant to finish his shift.

Thursday he had one blessed night off, thankfully his on-call status hadn’t dragged him in, and he got a decent six hour nap in.

Friday, another car wreck, he didn’t want to think about that one.

And now Saturday.

Dispatch sent them to the sold out arena, some idiot had leapt off the stage likely for a crowd surf, his foot tangled in an amp chord, it reduced his air time dramatically and he brained himself on one of the guard rails.

Excellent. At least he wasn’t dead.

Which given how easily one could wind up six feet under from such a whack to the head, he was lucky.

They parked by the side exit, shuffled in by security, and right through into the arena. The patient hadn’t been moved as per dispatchers instructions to the person who’d called. No moving the idiot until the professionals arrived and determined it safe.

Cameras, flashing lights, big beefy security guards standing in front of them blocking the majority of what was happening from view, there was… quite a bit of blood there. It didn’t look pretty in that lighting. “The crowd’s too much, let’s get him to the ambulance.” Robin’s patience didn’t exist when it came to large crowds.

Too many people. Plus she’d been on shift five hours longer than he had.

“Alright, you two, c’mere” Steve singled out two of the big security guys “we’re gonna need you to help us get him onto the gurney, we’ll look him over in the back of the ambulance.” There were no broken bones, nothing stopping them from moving him just enough to get him to the ambulance unscathed.

And then, somewhere between writing out paperwork, checking vitals, and Robin googling who this guy was, said guy… woke up.

Steve, being closer, was quick to check responsiveness, pupils reacted well to light although a concussion did look likely, they’d cleaned up the blood and found the cause to be a cut just above his left eyebrow that’d probably make a kickass scar and oh.

Without the blood. Oh. Oh he was pretty. Pretty plump lips, long lashes, deep brown eyes, faint freckles across his nose. All that hair. He was pretty.

“Mr Munson? Can you hear me?” He’d asked, while shining that little torch into those pretty brown eyes, left to right to check the responsiveness. And then he spoke and Steve— well. Robin was eyeballing him judgementally pretty damn hard given how fast his face flamed red.

Her head in her hands, her fingers plugged into her ears as Munson rattled off promises of worship and good lord— Steve didn’t know what to say, what to do, what does one do when a hot yet slightly delirious rockstar offers to worship your ‘angelic body’?

What does one do with that?

One awkwardly stutters through thanks while bright red and toasty until they can part with the guy at the ER wishing he’d met him under better circumstances cause it’d been a long ass time since anyone even touched him let alone worshipped him but accepting that he’d probably never see the guy again, so it didn’t really matter.

Until a few days later when the official Corroded Coffin account slid into his DM’s on Instagram, apologised profusely, and requested very sweetly to make it up to him with dinner the next time he was free.

Signed Eddie. With a little angel emoji. How on earth could he say no to that?

#steddie #piratewrites #Rockstar!eddie munson #Paramedic!steve harrington #SHITPOST FICLET #i have no excuse for this

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elliesbelle · 2 years ago

Text

nobody compares to you

chapter 1

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you’re in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, use of marijuana, use of alcohol, sexual speech and content, anxiety attack, homophobia, brief mentions of predatory men, potential smut in the future so minors do not interact, a little bit enemies to lovers

word count: 3.6k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

You lean against the living room wall, holding three of your friends’ purses along with your own. The intoxication from a cup of jungle juice from an hour ago was beginning to wear off. You didn’t mean to become the unofficial mom friend of the group tonight, but your reluctance to endure more close-quartered gyrating cemented the position. If you had to utter another “excuse you” to an incredibly handsy frat boy, you’d be getting kicked out for an aggravated assault attempt.

You didn’t really mind sobering up a bit, not tonight. Whether it was your hazy thoughts or the particular ambience in this frat house, you just weren’t in a huge mood to socialize.

Earlier this morning, your friends had flooded your group chat with enthusiastic messages about yet another party happening later that night. It was a regular fall Saturday at your university, which meant there was always a rager or two.

You were perfectly fine tagging along with your friend group to these events, though. You were well aware of your friends’ ulterior motives in pushing you to come out, but you chose to ignore it. Instead, you’d allowed them to hype you up while getting ready earlier that evening. Some pre-gaming had ensued in the form of vodka shots, and sharing of eyeshadow palettes & lipsticks had occurred when dolling up pre-party.

“Babes, if you don’t teach me how to do my eye makeup the way you do, I swear…” Your friend Sidney whined next to you as she watched your steady hand apply finishing touches to your eyes.

You chuckled but said nothing as you set your liquid eyeliner down and reached for your setting spray. There was no need for such meticulous styling to your makeup for some trivial frat party. You mostly did it for your own satisfaction, but a particular memory had tugged at your brain with every brush stroke. But this memory remained unacknowledged as you fanned your newly set face.

You’d allowed yourself a revealing outfit tonight: a lacy black bralette peaking from underneath a maroon leather jacket and a tight black miniskirt that flounced with the slightest movement. Peaking from underneath your shirt was a pair of fishnet stockings. Topping it off was your favourite pair of knee-high black boots. This particular attire garnered squeals and wolf whistles from your friends in their equally slutty outfits.

A couple of hours later, however, your appearance was a contradiction to your spiritless demeanor. You were tired and sweaty, the majority of your foundation having been perspired off in this sauna of a gathering. Feet blistering as a betrayal of high-heel boots, you struggled to keep yourself upright against the wall.

“Hey, hot stuff.” An approaching voice says.

Your eyes darted to the sound, ready to hurl a harsh “fuck off” at whatever creep decided to enter your sobering bubble. But upon spotting the culprit, you relaxed immediately.

“Hey, Jesse.” You exhaled.

“Damn, you looked like you were gonna rip me a new one just now.” He chuckled.

“Sorry, sorry. You know how it can be at these shit parties.”

Jesse was a rare guy friend of yours. You didn’t make a habit of befriending boys at college, but he was an exception.

You’d met him freshman year when your friend group merged with another on the way to some start-of-the-year party. After some mutual friends introduced you, you hit it off almost immediately.

Jesse was easy to talk to, never a creep or too invasive. You loved his dumb dad jokes and loyal nature. He never hit on you, even before finding out you were a lesbian. During tough times in recent years, he was there for you. He was a genuine guy who you’d instinctively trust your drink with. And right now, he was good company to have when you were alone and wistful at these stressful shindigs.

“I get it, dude. But mom friend again tonight?” He asks, gesturing to the mass of purses in your hands.

You shrug and reply, “It’s cool.”

“Man, you’ve danced probably a total of three times at one of these things since last year. Are you even having fun?”

“Eh. After three years, I’m a senior citizen.”

“So what does that make me, since I’m graduating this year?” He asks, mockingly put his hands on his hips.

“Ancient,” You reply, sticking your tongue out at him.

Jesse places a hand on his chest and gasps dramatically, replying, “Fucking rude.”

You chuckle.

“I’m really okay, though.” You reassure him. “The girls wanted to go out tonight, but I’m just a bit tired.”

“Tired or overstimulated?”

You smile at his understanding.

“Both.”

He chuckles.

“Some cool people are passing around a fat ass joint outside. Wanna join?”

You hold up the handful of purses you were tasked to guard as a response.

“Alright, gimme,” He says, reaching his hand out. “Mom friend substitute while you go get high.”

“You don’t wanna smoke?”

“It’s cool, that’s where I’ve been for the last half hour or so. I should cool off for a little bit anyways.”

You feel guilty for leaving Jesse to watch your belongings, even for a few short minutes. But his fingers wiggle expectantly and you know there was no point in arguing.

“Thanks, dude.” You exhale as you hand off your weight. “Probably been needing a few hits of a j all night, anyway.”

“Looks like it. Go ahead; D’s out there smoking with them if you wanna say hi.”

“Oh, nice. Haven’t seen her tonight yet. Be back in a sec, then.”

You tear yourself off from your spot on the wall and will your blistered feet to move towards the door. Not absolutely sober yet, you stumble across the living room before you could push past the screen door and into the brisk October air. Following the smell of pot laced with lavender in the air, you see a circle of people hanging out by a parked Jeep, illuminated slightly by the embers of a joint being passed around.

Lavender?

“Oh, fuck.” You say a little too loudly.

A few heads turn towards your voice, one of which was Dina’s.

“Hey, babe! I didn’t know you were here!” She says enthusiastically, approaching you with a bounce in her step. She pulls you into a brief but tight embrace.

“Been here for the past hour, D.” You laugh nervously. “Where have you been?”

“Been helping El’s lazy ass roll a fuckton of j’s for the past half hour that she was supposed to roll for customers before the party. But now, we’re just chilling. Want a hit?”

Dina’s chin tilts towards the Jeep. Your eyes follow her aim to the girl sitting on its hood. Your breathing stops when you see the very person you were hoping not to encounter tonight.

She was unmistakable in a simple grey, unbuttoned flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves to show off an arm tattoo, slightly distressed jeans, and her old Converse sneakers. A few strands of auburn hair fell in front of her face out of the usual half-bun. You watch as her eyebrows—the right one with its notable slit slashed through—furrowed in concentration as she attempts to relight the joint in her pursed lips.

Your throat closes up and you feel your heart clench tightly in your chest.

Ellie.

You immediately redirect your eyes back to Dina before Ellie can look up from behind her left hand shielding the lighter from the slight breeze.

“Uh, no. I’m good. Just needed to step out for a hot sec. Needed a breather from the sea of raging hormones in there.”

Another breeze suddenly hits your exposed skin, colder than the last. You figure this was a good way to excuse yourself back into the house.

“I’m about to freeze my tits off out here, though. Gonna head back in.” You hug your arms around your bare stomach, goosebumps starting to form.

You begin to turn right back around, but Dina grabbed your arm.

“Oh! You came with Sidney and them, right? She said you were all planning on going to Sterling’s after this.”

“We were?” You ask, thrown off and a little irritated that your friends hadn’t consulted you in this change of plans.

“Yeah! We’re gonna come with ‘cause I’m craving a blueberry pancake bad and Jesse’s deranged self wants a strawberry milkshake.” Dina affectionately rolls her eyes. “Just let us know when you leave? We’ll head out with you.”

“Um, sure.” Your heart begins to pound twice its normal speed.

By “we,” did she mean—?

“Okay, yay! We should go soon ‘cause I feel the munchies creeping up on me. I blame El for smoking me out as thanks for my rolling services.”

The auburn-haired girl smirks at Dina’s comment, but you refuse to look at her this time. Instead, your eyes trail after the joint that Ellie was now passing to the girl to her left.

The girl looked unfamiliar, but something in her face and posture screamed “freshman.” A brown motorcycle jacket was laying on top of her shoulders. Joel’s old motorcycle jacket. Ellie’s jacket.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and settle for pursing your lips.

Chivalrous fuckboy graciously offering her jacket to a beautiful lady. Typical Ellie Williams move.

You don’t allow yourself to dwell on whether Ellie had decided to lend her dad’s old jacket to a pretty stranger or a new girlfriend. You certainly don’t allow yourself to settle on which scenario would hurt your feelings more. And you definitely don’t dwell on the fact that she’s pulled this move on you more than once in the past.

The girl takes no notice of your gaze as she accepts the joint, taking a hit.

“I love that you always add lilac to these, Ellie. It smells so much better than a regular j.”

Biting back the impulse to correct the girl, you merely look back at Dina to say, “Right. I’ll see y’all in a bit then, D?”

“Sounds perfect. We’ll be here!” She replies happily.

You give her a quick smile before returning inside the house, ignoring the green eyes now watching your departing figure.

You don’t know how, but you know for a fact that Ellie’d been staring at you ever since she heard you mention your freezing tits and unintentionally pushed your breasts together when you’d grabbed your exposed stomach.

You walk through the front door and head straight for the bathroom that was just to the right. It wasn’t clear at the moment why you’d known that there was a half bath in this direction, but you were busy catching your breath to care.

The bright, ugly fluorescents illuminating from the bathroom ceiling was sobering you up quickly. You wished you had gotten drunker. Trying to recall some breathing techniques an old therapist had taught you, your eyes fall on your appearance in the mirror.

Not awful. I still look kind of hot.

You reassure yourself that Ellie had only gotten a dim glimpse of you and hadn’t gotten a chance to notice how flushed you looked.

Is it from the alcohol or was it from seeing her again so close after all these months?

You could bail from the party now. Tell your friend group chat that you were heading home and text Dina separately, saying you weren’t feeling well.

I can’t…

It takes you about five seconds to scrap that plan. You weren’t that type of friend to just bail, especially not when you’ve got drunk friends who were all girls surrounded by creeps or creep-adjacent frat boys. Plus, you’ve barely seen Dina and Jesse since the start of the school year. You could set aside your selfishness for one night and endure Ellie for just a little while.

It’s okay. It’ll be like old times, except I ignore her the whole night.

You hadn’t noticed that you were tearing up a little. Quickly but delicately, you wipe any tears threatening to fall, carefully avoiding smudging your eye makeup.

I shouldn’t be letting her get to me tonight.

You give yourself a half-hearted pep talk that works, to an extent. Using your fingers to brush out strands of hair off your sweaty forehead and straightening your skirt out, you convince yourself to emerge from the bathroom and hunt down the man who led you to face Ellie.

You find him easily, not far away from the spot you had previously occupied from the wall.

“Jess…” You begin as you approach the raven-haired boy.

He was conversing with a frat boy, yours and your friends’ purses now either draped on his shoulder or slung around his chest. You would have giggled at this adorable image if you weren’t slightly ticked off by him.

Jesse sees you approaching and calls your name, beckoning you towards him and his conversation partner.

“Yo, tell Adam about Ellie’s dope ass joints that she laces with that lavender shit.” He points at you with his thumb. “Her idea, originally.”

“Huh,” Adam says. “Kinda cool. Not something I’d do for myself, but I know she’s always got primo shit. Must be a nice touch with the strains she got.”

You let out a noncommittal “mhm” and look back at Jesse, who has a sympathetic and apologetic smile on his face.

“You irritate my life, Jess,” You say, leaving out the guy Adam from the conversation.

“Sorry. It’s all out of love, my friend.” He replies, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Did you end up taking a hit?”

You glare at him and he chuckles.

“Thought I’d try. I’m sorry.” He says, sighing in defeat. “Dina tell you we’re going with you guys to Sterling’s after this?”

“Is she coming along with us, Jess?”

“We’re a codependent trio, so yes. Hey, that rhymed.” He snickers at his own joke.

You groan.

“I think I’ll head home instead.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. Just hang out with me and Dina. We really miss you and we’ve barely seen you. You don’t have to talk to her.”

“What happened to being a codependent trio?” You challenge.

“Our marriage counselor said to work on boundaries,” Jesse says jokingly.

You sigh.

“You wanna go now, then?” You say, relenting.

“Sure, I’m craving a strawberry milkshake real bad.”

You roll your eyes.

“Let me go round up the girls. We’ll meet you outside?” You say, reaching for the purses.

He waves you off and says, “I got it, girl. See you in a sec.”

You give him a tentative smile and proceed to the basement of the frat house.

After you successfully herded your friends, all of whom were at different levels of drunkenness, you ushered them upstairs to the living room and towards the front door.

You had your arm around one of your more intoxicated friends, who all of a sudden exclaims in her drunken stupor, “Babe, we should come to this frat’s parties more often! We haven’t been since freshman year!”

This stops you in your tracks, almost pulling your friend into you.

Ahh, you thought.

That’s why you’d been apprehensive about this house since arriving. This was the very same frat house where you’d met Ellie Williams for the first time. You met her the same night you met Jesse. You’d spent an hour or two conversing with her on a shabby couch in that same living room. The same house where those ocean green eyes pierced yours for the first time. The same house where you’d begun a “friendship” with someone who ultimately broke your heart.

Uttering a quick apology to your friend, you nudge her forward to exit the house you had no desire to remain in.

The twenty-minute journey from the frat to Sterling’s Diner did not seem long enough to you. Though you were longing to sit and rest your sore feet (you gave up a seat on the bus to one of your drunker friends who could barely stand upright), you preferred moving in a rather large group of friends where you could easily situate yourself away from Ellie if need be. You remained at the front of the group with your friend Astrid, arms linked as you trekked towards the bright lights of Sterling’s.

You all sit at a long makeshift table formed by three smaller tables pushed together. Your anxiety ramps up when Ellie sits across and a seat to the right from you. Refraining from glancing her way would be much more difficult now that you were both in each other’s line of sight.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.

Your group was embarrassingly loud, disrupting the peace of the few restaurant-goers nearby. You silently make plans to pardon yourself to the bathroom and hide out for a good 15 minutes before you make an excuse to go home to your apartment.

Some of them are sober enough. As long as I check up to make sure they all get home safe…

Deciding not to order anything to avoid waiting til the end to pay, you tell the server that you don’t need anything. But before they can walk away, Dina, who was sitting directly across from you, interjects.

“Oh, she’ll just get a hot chocolate.”

You look perplexed.

“Dina, I don’t need anything.”

“I know for a fact that your tits are freezing cold and you need to warm up. Besides, I know you love hot chocolate.”

“D!” You whisper, embarrassed at the loud comment about your tits in front of the server. Dina snickers.

You smile at Dina’s thoughtfulness, though you’re slightly annoyed that your escape plan was thwarted. In the corner of your eye, you think you see Ellie make a certain facial expression. But refusing to look her way, you can’t make a guess as to what it was.

Not wanting to hold up the server’s time by arguing with Dina, you give a quick thank you and glare at your nosy friend.

“You and Jesse are really competing to see who is my number one tormentor tonight.”

Dina rolls her eyes playfully, “Why? What did our sweet Jesse do this time?”

You have to catch yourself from blurting out Jesse’s earlier endeavour. Despite the commotion your friends were making, you’re certain that your voice is still within Ellie’s earshot.

“Uh… ask him later.” You say, making eye contact with Jesse, who sat to Dina’s right.

He smirks and you grimace.

It feels like a lifetime waiting for everyone’s order to arrive. You sat awkwardly sandwiched between your friend Astrid to your right and Frat Guy Adam to your left. You stay quiet, not engaging in much talk. Dina and Astrid would attempt to pull you into their respective conversations, but you merely give slight nods and smiles and an occasional “mhmm” before going back to scrolling on your phone.

After exhausting all forms of social media that no longer entertained you, you sigh and place your phone down on the table.

Frat Guy Adam notices your movement and glances at your lockscreen.

“Boyfriend?” He suddenly asks, nodding towards your phone.

“What?” You say, startled.

“Dude on your wallpaper. Where is he tonight?”

Your lockscreen photo was of you hugging your favourite cousin, Rafael, and it was taken after your high school graduation.

“Oh.” You gulp. “No, uh. Older cousin. No boyfriend.”

“Really?” He says suddenly interested. He turns in his seat to face you better.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“Not really the boyfriend type of girl…” You mutter.

“Why not? You’re pretty hot. Can’t be that hard to get a date.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a lesbian. Don’t need a boyfriend.” You say quietly but assertively.

Adam tsks, saying, “Man, really? Didn’t clock you as a queer.” He adjusts in his seat to his original position, chatting instead with his friend on his left.

You freeze. You knew Adam didn’t exactly intend for his words to be malicious, but you’ve heard enough comments like this in your life to understand its meaning.

No one else around you could hear his comment over the buzz of conversation. Except…

Your eyes meet Ellie’s, you having momentarily forgotten that this was what you were trying to avoid. It was strange to look into a familiar face and see an unfamiliar expression.

What was she thinking? Is that concern on her face? No, that’s something else…

You break her gaze, deciding that she’d only looked at you because you accidentally looked her way. She probably didn’t hear what had happened; and even if she did, it was none of her business.

Before you can even decide whether or not to say anything to Adam, everyone’s orders come flooding out. Your hot chocolate was placed in front of you, and ignoring Ellie’s piercing green eyes, you just stare at the steam rising from your cup.

You were growing more uncomfortable every second that passed. Being neither drunk nor high, you sit soberly in your seat and wish you hadn’t come out tonight in the first place. You suddenly feel tears welling up in your eyes, unsure if it was from your anxiety or Adam’s comments.

Muttering a brief “be right back” to nobody in particular, you quickly make your way to the two-stall women’s restroom. You nearly collapse against the bathroom door once it closed behind you. Burying your face in your hands, you try not to break down into tears of frustration.

After several moments, you pry yourself off the door and dare to look at yourself in the mirror. You look like a more tired, sweatier version of yourself from earlier in the night. Sighing, you grab a paper towel and dab it underneath your eye to remove any dripping eyeliner.

You nearly jump and poke your eye when the bathroom door suddenly opens. You feel your throat close up and your heart clench once more.

Ellie.

author’s notes:

this is the first ellie fanfic i’ve written and posted on here so be kind pretty please but feedback is very much welcome! i actually have more than one chapter written out already shdjfjf but hopefully this does well and i’ll post the rest if people would like!

i plan on making this a kind of long series, so i hope people will like that sgdjfjf (sorry, i know i should just post and not apologize and look for validation, but i haven’t written in a while!)

@lonelyfooryouonly asked me on my main to be tagged when i finally start posting my own fics on here, so here bby ty for the push! can’t wait for the next chapter of selfish to come out hehe

#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #belle speaks #belle writes

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sassenach77yle · 1 month ago

Text

7x12 “Carnal Knowledge”

His own voice was husky now, and when I turned back to him, I saw that tears stood in his eyes. With an incoherent noise, I flung myself into his arms and clung to him, making foolish hiccuping sobs. He held me tight, his breath warm on the top of my head, and when I stopped at last, he put me away a little and cupped my face in his hands.

“I have loved ye since I saw you, Sassenach,”

he said very quietly, holding my eyes with his own, bloodshot and lined with tiredness but very blue.

“I will love ye forever.

It doesna matter if ye sleep with the whole English army—well, no,” he corrected himself, “it would matter, but it wouldna stop me loving you.” “I didn’t think it would.” I sniffed and he pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and handed it to me. It was worn white cambric and had the initial “P” embroidered awkwardly in one corner in blue thread. I couldn’t imagine where he’d got such a thing but didn’t bother asking, under the circumstances. The bench was not very large, and his knee was within an inch or two of mine. He didn’t touch me again, though, and my heart rate was beginning to speed up noticeably. He meant it, about loving me, but that didn’t mean the next while was going to be pleasant. “It was my impression that he told me because he was sure that you would tell me,” he said carefully. “So I would have,” I said promptly, wiping my nose. “Though I might possibly have waited ’til you’d got home, had a bath, and been fed supper. If there’s one thing I know about men, it’s that you don’t break things like this to them on an empty stomach. When did you last eat?”

“This morning. Sausages. Dinna be changing the subject.” His voice was level, but there was a good deal of feeling bubbling under it; he might as well have been a pan of simmering milk. One extra degree of heat and there’d be an eruption and scorched milk all over the stove. “I understand, but I want—I need—to know what happened.” “You understand?” I echoed, sounding surprised even to my own ears. I hoped he did understand, but his manner was more than a little at odds with his words. My hands were no longer cold; they were starting to sweat, and I gripped the skirt over my knees, heedless of mud stains. “Well, I dinna like it,” he said, not quite between clenched teeth. “But I understand it.” “You do?” “I do,” he said, eyeing me. “Ye both thought I was dead. And I ken what ye’re like when you’re drunk, Sassenach.” I slapped him, so fast and so hard that he hadn’t time to duck and lurched back from the impact. “You—you—” I said, unable to articulate anything bad enough to suit the violence of my feelings. “How bloody dare you!” He touched his cheek gingerly. His mouth was twitching. “I . . . uh . . . didna quite mean that the way it sounded, Sassenach,” he said. “Besides, am I no the aggrieved party here?” “No, you bloody aren’t!” I snapped. “You go off and get—get drowned, and leave me all alone in the m-midst of spies and s-soldiers and with children—you and Fergus both, you bastards! Leave me and Marsali to-to—” I was so choked with emotion that I couldn’t go on. I was damned if I’d cry, though, damned if I’d cry any more in front of him. He reached out carefully and took my hand again. I let him, and let him draw me closer, close enough to see the faint dusting of his beard stubble, to smell the road dust and dried sweat in his clothes, to feel the radiant heat from his body. I sat quivering, making small huffing sounds in lieu of speech. He ignored this, spreading my fingers out between his own, gently stroking the palm of my hand with a large, callused thumb. “I didna mean to imply that I think ye a drunkard, Sassenach,” he said, making an obvious effort to be conciliatory. “It’s only that ye think wi’ your body, Claire; ye always have.” With a tremendous effort of my own, I found words. “So I’m a—a—what are you calling me now? A loose woman? A trollop? A strumpet? And you think that’s better than calling me a drunkard?!?” He gave a small snort of what might have been amusement. I yanked at my hand, but he wouldn’t let go. “I said what I meant, Sassenach,” he said, tightening his grip on my hand, and augmenting it with another hand on my forearm, preventing me from rising. “Ye think wi’ your body. It’s what makes ye a surgeon, no?” “I—oh.” Overcoming my dudgeon momentarily, I was obliged to admit that there was something in this observation. “Possibly,” I said stiffly, looking away from him. “But I don’t think that’s what you meant.” “Not entirely, no.” There was a very slight edge to his voice again, but I wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Listen to me.” I sat stubbornly silent for a moment, but he simply held on, and I knew that he was more stubborn by nature than I could be if I worked at it for a hundred years. I was going to hear what he had to say—and I was going to tell him what he wanted to hear—whether I liked it or not. “I’m listening,” I said. He drew breath and relaxed a little but didn’t lessen his grip. “I’ve taken ye to bed a thousand times at least, Sassenach,” he said mildly. “Did ye think I wasna paying attention?” “Two or three thousand at least,” I said, in the interests of strict accuracy, staring at the digging knife I’d dropped on the ground. “And no.” “Well, then. I ken what ye’re like in bed. And I see—all too well,” he added, his mouth compressing momentarily, “—how this likely was.”

“No, you bloody don’t,” I said warmly. He made another Scottish noise, this one indicating hesitation. “I do,” he said, but carefully. “When I lost ye, after Culloden—I kent ye weren’t dead, but that made it all the worse, if ye ask me . . . eh?” I had made a noise of my own but gestured briefly at him to go on. “I told ye about Mary MacNab, aye? How she came to me, in the cave?” “Several years after the fact,” I said rather coldly. “But, yes, you did get round to it eventually.” I gave him a look. “I certainly didn’t blame you for that—and I didn’t ask you for the gory details, either.” “No, ye didn’t,” he admitted. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with a knuckle. “Maybe ye weren’t jealous. I am.” He hesitated. “I’d tell ye, though—how it was—if ye wanted to know.” I looked at him, biting my lip dubiously. Did I want to know? If I didn’t—and I wasn’t at all sure whether I did or not—would he take that as evidence that I didn’t care? And I was quite conscious of that brief “I am.” I took a deep breath, accepting the implied bargain. “Tell me,” I said. “How it was.” Now he did look away, and I saw his throat move as he swallowed. “It . . . was tender,” he said quietly, after a moment. “Sad.” “Sad,” I echoed. “How?” He didn’t look up but kept his eyes fixed on the flowers, following the movements of a big black bumblebee among the furled blooms. “Both of us mourning things that were lost,” he said slowly, brows drawn down in thought. “She said she meant to keep ye alive for me, to let me . . . to let me imagine it was you, I suppose she meant.” “Didn’t work quite that way?” “No.” He looked up then, straight on, and his eyes went through me like a rapier through a scarecrow. “There couldna be anyone like you.” It wasn’t said with an air of compliment, more one of flat finality—or, even, of resentment. I lifted a shoulder briefly. There wasn’t much response I could make. “And?” He sighed and looked back at his knotted hands. He was squeezing the fingers of his narrowed right hand with his left, as though to remind himself of the missing finger. “It was quiet,” he said to his thumb. “We didna talk, really, not once we’d . . . begun.” He closed his eyes, and I wondered, with a small twinge of curiosity, just what he saw. I was surprised to realize that curiosity was all I felt—with, perhaps, pity for them. I’d seen the cave in which they’d made love, a cold granite tomb, and I knew how desperate the state of things had been in the Highlands then. Just the promise of a little human warmth . . . “Both of us mourning things that were lost,” he’d said. “It was just the once. It didna last very long; I—it had been a long time,” he said, and a faint flush showed across his cheekbones. “But . . . I needed it, verra much. She held me after, and . . . I needed that more. I fell asleep in her arms; she was gone when I woke. But I carried the warmth of her with me. For a long time,” he said very softly. That gave me a quite unexpected stab of jealousy, and I straightened a little, fighting it back with clenched hands. He sensed it and turned his head toward me. He’d felt that flame ignite—and had one to match it. “And you?” he said, giving me a hard, direct look. “It wasn’t tender,” I said with an edge. “And it wasn’t sad. It should have been. When he came into my room and said he wouldn’t mourn you alone, and we talked, then I got up and went to him, expecting—if I had so much as an expectation; I don’t think I had any conscious thoughts. . . .” “No?” He matched my edge with his own. “Blind drunk, were ye?” “Yes, I bloody was, and so was he.” I knew what he was thinking; he wasn’t making any effort to hide it, and I had a sudden, vivid recollection of sitting with him in the corner of

a tavern in Cross Creek, his taking my face suddenly between his hands and kissing me, and the warm sweetness of wine passing from his mouth to mine. I sprang to my feet and slapped my hand on the bench. “Yes, I bloody was!” I said again, furious. “I was drunk every damned day since I heard you were dead.” He drew a deep, deep breath, and I saw his eyes fix on his hands, clenched on his knees. He let it out very slowly. “And what did he give ye, then?” “Something to hit,” I said. “At least to begin with.” He looked up at me, startled. “Ye hit him?” “No, I hit you,” I snapped. My fist had curled, without my realization, clenched against my thigh. I remembered that first blow, a blind, frenzied punch into unwary flesh, all the force of my grief behind it. The flex of recoil that took away the sensation of warmth for an instant, brought it back with a smash that flung me onto the dressing table, borne down by a man’s weight, his grip tight on my wrists, and me screaming in fury. I didn’t remember the specifics of what came next—or, rather, I recalled certain things very vividly but had no idea of the order in which they happened. “It was a blur,” people say. What they really mean is the impossibility of anyone truly entering such an experience from outside, the futility of explanation. “Mary MacNab,” I said abruptly. “She gave you . . . tenderness, you said. There should be a word for what this was, what John gave me, but I haven’t thought of it yet.” I needed a word that might convey, encapsulate. “Violence,” I said. “That was part of it.” Jamie stiffened and gave me a narrow look. I knew what he was thinking and shook my head. “Not that. I was numb—deliberately numb, because I couldn’t bear to feel. He could; he had more courage than I did. And he made me feel it, too. That’s why I hit him.” I’d been numb, and John had ripped off the dressing of denial, the wrappings of the small daily necessities that kept me upright and functioning; his physical presence had torn away the bandages of grief and showed what lay below: myself, bloody and unhealed. I felt the air thick in my throat, damp and hot and itching on my skin. And finally I found the word. “Triage,” I said abruptly. “Under the numbness, I was . . . raw. Bloody. Skinned. You do triage, you . . . stop the bleeding first. You stop it. You stop it, or the patient dies. He stopped it.” He’d stopped it by slapping his own grief, his own fury, over the welling blood of mine. Two wounds, pressed together, blood still flowing freely—but no longer lost and draining, flowing instead into another body, and the other’s blood into mine, hot, searing, not welcome—but life. Jamie said something under his breath in Gaelic. I didn’t catch most of the words. He sat with his head bent, elbows on his knees and head in his hands, and breathed audibly. After a moment, I sat back down beside him and breathed, too. The cicadas grew louder, an urgent buzz that drowned out the rush of water and the rustling of leaves, humming in my bones.

24 WELCOME COOLNESS IN THE HEAT, COMFORT IN THE MIDST OF WOE ~ Written in My Own Heart's Blood

#the frasers #outlander #outlander series #outlanderedit #outlander fanart #jamie fraser #outlander starz #jamie&claire #samheughan #jamie and claire #claire beauchamp #dr claire randall #claire fraser #caitrionabalfe #outlander book #outlander books #outlander season 7b #outlander 7x12

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kathlare · 2 months ago

Text

midnight spark

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: As Amelie prepares for a monumental New Year’s Eve performance in Times Square, she takes a moment to connect with Lando, who is halfway across the world.

Wordcount: 2.1 k

Warnings: fluff, smau

full masterlist // request over here!

December 31st, 2023 - New York City, NY

She ran a hand through her hair, which had been styled into a voluminous wave. Her outfit—a sparkling white dress that shimmered under the soft lights of her apartment—was a showstopper. It clung to her body perfectly, highlighting her curves.

Amelie loved this feeling, the thrill of stepping into a new year with such a monumental performance ahead. But, as she admired herself in the mirror, she couldn’t shake the excitement bubbling inside her for something—rather, someone—else. Lando.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, and when she picked it up, a smile stretched across her face. It was a FaceTime call from him. Her heart skipped a beat.

—Hey, babe,— she answered with a grin, holding the phone up to her face.

—Well, well, look at you,— Lando’s voice came through, slightly muffled at first. When his face appeared on screen, Amelie couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him. He was lounging on his hotel bed in Bali, his messy curls practically sticking up in every direction. There was a slight glow to his face, and his eyes were a little too bright, giving away the fact that he'd been drinking.

—Happy New Year, Ames!— Lando's smile was infectious, but there was something else behind his expression—a glint that told her he was tipsy. He raised his phone, showing off his surroundings: a dimly lit hotel room, music thumping faintly in the background, and a few people laughing in the distance.

—You’re drunk,— Amelie teased, rolling her eyes as she took in his disheveled appearance.

—You don’t know that,— Lando shot back with a wink, even though his slurred speech gave him away. —Okay, maybe a little. But I’m celebrating, babe. Martin is playing tomorrow, and I’m here with him, so… priorities, right?— His grin was wide, showing the playful side of him that Amelie loved.

She chuckled. —I’m sure you’re having a blast. Meanwhile, I’m getting ready to perform in Times Square.— She turned the camera around, showing him her outfit. —What do you think?—

Lando’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening as he took in her appearance. —Holy shit, Ames. You look... I mean, you're a fucking goddess. Wow.— His voice was full of admiration, but there was also a certain hunger to his words, a subtle intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

Amelie couldn't help but blush at his compliment, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. —Thank you,— she replied, trying to hide her flustered reaction. But as always, Lando knew how to make her feel something. —You know, you’re not looking too bad yourself,— she said, returning the flirtation. —I mean, I can’t say I’m not tempted to jump on a plane and meet you right now.—

Lando’s smile turned mischievous. —Oh yeah? Tempted, huh?— His gaze moved slowly up and down her form, making Amelie feel like he was undressing her with his eyes. His voice dropped an octave, and she could tell the alcohol had loosened him up a bit. —You’re killing me, Ames. That dress... damn, it’s got me all hot and bothered. It’s not fair.—

Amelie’s heart raced, but she smirked and leaned in closer to the camera, giving him a better view. —Well, I’m just getting started,— she said, her tone teasing and confident. She knew exactly what she was doing, baiting him. —I’m wearing this for you tonight, Lan. But you can’t have me just yet.—

Lando’s eyes darkened, and he let out a slow breath. —You’re really gonna do this to me, huh?— he muttered, his voice rough with desire. —I’m sitting here in Bali, and all I can think about is you looking like that. Fuck.— He shook his head, clearly trying to regain control. —Stop. I can’t handle this, not right now.—

Amelie’s smirk widened, her heart racing as she watched Lando struggle with his words. She loved the power she had over him, especially when he was tipsy like this. But she wasn’t ready to let him off the hook just yet.

—Oh, come on, Lan, I’m just getting warmed up. Don’t act like you don’t like it,— she teased, turning her body slightly to give him an even better view of her outfit. She could see his eyes track her every movement, and it made her pulse quicken with excitement.

Lando groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. —Babe, you’re killing me. Do you know how much I want to just pull you through this screen?— His voice was low and full of longing. —But I can’t. Fucking hell, this is torture.—

Amelie’s grin softened, a little sympathy slipping through despite her playful teasing. —I’m not trying to torture you, Lan. Just having a little fun. But... maybe you can handle a little more.— She knew exactly how far she could push him, how to make him desperate for her without giving in just yet.

—You’re not playing fair,— Lando muttered, leaning back against his pillow, trying to distance himself from the camera as though it would help control his rising frustration. —You’re in New York, looking like that, and I’m here, drunk, thinking about all the things I’d do to you if I could be there. But no... I can’t.— He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, but the desire was still there, unmistakable.

Amelie’s heart fluttered at his words, but she knew how to keep the teasing going. She wasn’t ready to give him exactly what he wanted just yet. —Well, you’re not the only one here with some... creative thoughts. But I’m not sure if you're ready to handle me like that after a night of partying, Lan.— She winked at the camera, her voice playful but laced with a hint of challenge.

Lando’s eyes snapped open, and his lips quirked into a small smile, despite his obvious struggle. —You really want to play this game with me, huh?— He chuckled, a little more steadied now, though the intensity was still there. —I’m not exactly sober, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t make it worth your while, Ames.—

Her breath hitched at the words. She knew he wasn’t just talking about the physical attraction anymore. There was something deeper behind his gaze. But, as much as she loved this back-and-forth, she also knew that they were on the edge of something more. Something that could happen when they were together in person—no screens, no distractions.

Amelie bit her lip, holding back a smile. —Maybe when we’re together in Bali, I’ll let you show me just how worth it you can be.— She teased, but the weight of her words hung in the air, giving both of them something to look forward to.

Lando’s eyes darkened, his playful expression faltering for a moment. —You better be ready for me, Ames. I’m not playing around when you get here—

The sudden knock at the door interrupted their moment, and Amelie sighed, rolling her eyes. She turned the camera toward the door, showing Alex Wolff standing in the doorway, clearly eager for the night to start. —You’re not gonna believe this, but I’m getting ready to go on stage, and you’re over here distracting me, Lan. This is all your fault,— she muttered, though the hint of a smile was still on her lips.

Alex raised an eyebrow, grinning as he leaned against the doorframe. —Yeah, I bet it’s Lando’s fault. Seems like the two of you have a way of getting each other worked up, huh?— He chuckled, completely unaware of just how much he had interrupted.

Amelie rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the laugh. —Shut up, Alex. I’ll be ready in a minute,— she told him, turning back to Lando with a smirk.

—Alright, alright. Go do your thing, Ames,— Lando said, his voice suddenly softer, a hint of affection slipping through despite the tension. —But just so you know, I’m counting down the days until I see you. Bali’s not too far away. And when you get here, you’ll see just how serious I am about making up for tonight, yeah?—

Amelie felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. They might not have said the big “L” word yet, but everything they shared felt real. Special. And in that moment, it felt like something had clicked between them, something that would grow stronger the closer they got.

—You better keep your word, Lan,— she teased, her eyes softening as she gazed at him. —But for now, I have a show to do. We’ll talk later, alright?—

—You’re gonna crush it, babe. I’ll be waiting to hear all about it. Don’t forget about me when you’re a superstar on that stage, yeah?—

Amelie laughed, her heart swelling at the affection in his voice. —Never. I’ll talk to you soon. Happy New Year, Lan.—

—Happy New Year, Ames. Go break a leg out there. I’ll be cheering for you from here, as always.—

With a final wink, she ended the call, setting her phone down with a soft sigh. Alex raised an eyebrow, clearly eager to tease her more, but Amelie was already focused on the performance ahead. Lando might have been far away, but his words lingered with her, a warm reminder of everything they were building together.

And soon, she’d be with him in Bali—closer than ever.

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

liked by landonorris, fan4amelie, and others

amelieupdates: Kicking off 2024 in style! 🎤✨ Amelie lit up the stage tonight at the Times Square Ball in NYC with an unforgettable performance.

View all 698 comments

fan4amelie: SHE SLAYED OMG 🔥✨ no crumbs left, just vibes. → lanamelieshipper: @fan4amelie fr, my queen never misses. Also, did y’all see Lando liked this? 👀 → f1fanatic77: @lanamelieshipper he’s so obvious. Like, bro, we get it, you’re in love. 😭

amelie_is_the_moment: Literally starting 2024 with a BANG. She’s unreal. 😍

fanamelie22: She ATE that stage UP. Literally no crumbs left. 🔥✨ 2024 starting strong! → alexsimp99: @fanamelie22 PERIODT. Like, she understood the assignment and DELIVERED.

f1loves: Not me screaming because Alex was spotted in the crowd! Bestie duties ON POINT. 🥹💙

lando_obsessed: Y’ALL, WHY IS LANDO IN THE LIKES?? 👀👀 → amelieupdatesfan: @lando_obsessed Liking it like a "supportive friend" 🙃, sure, Lan.

notafantho: She’s mid at best. NYE deserved better. 🙄

norrisxamelie: Can 2024 just be the year they finally announce it already? We KNOW, besties. Stop playing us. 👀 → landoarmy: @norrisxamelie Deadass. The "just friends" excuse is so tired at this point. We BEEN knew.

ameliemyqueen: She’s glowing. Idk if it’s love, success, or both, but she’s winning either way. 🌟 → f1fangirl: @ameliemyqueen It’s Lando. We know it’s Lando. 😉

georgeandamelieforever: UGH, she ate this performance! 😍🔥 Amelie just keeps getting better, she’s gonna be a whole legend 💫

amelieisourqueen: We’ve been supporting her since day 1 and look at her now!! Times Square, are you kidding me? GO OFF, QUEEN 👑✨ → alexfan05: @amelieisourqueen facts!! She’s come SO FAR, it’s insane to see. Proud of her always!! 🙌

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luvtak · 1 year ago

Text

you can hear it in the silence, njm

✧ pairing na jaemin x reader

✧ genre/tw est. relationship, crying, reader is drunk weeping lol, fluff fluff fluff!! suggestive at the end, reader is described to be smaller than jaemin, basically you love jaemin so much you can't stop crying about it and he loves you too!!

✧w/c 1216

✧ a/n cooked this one up after weeks of writing nothing lmao, i love jaemin and thats what started this. i hope you love reading it as much as i liked writing it <3

You wonder how silly you look, eyes flooded and nose pouring out snot.

It’s not the crying that’s silly, it’s the reason for the tears—your boyfriend’s smile spread miles across his face laughing at his friends. He just looks so beautiful, every bit of the boy you fell in love with those months ago shifting and changing himself into the version he is now. Always so gorgeous and so kind that you can’t help being moved to tears by this joyful vision of him.

Maybe it’s the alcohol coursing through your system pushing past playful debauchery and welcoming melodrama, or maybe it’s just that you love him.

You love him so much you find it hard to talk about, only letting out the words in the quiet cathedral of your home together. Jaemin doesn’t seem to mind, carrying enough confidence in his affections for the both of you—he’s fluent in love, knows how to carry a conversation in his heart and his body, knows all the slang terms and cultural practices; he’s an expert at love, even more so at loving you.

Somehow, he always knows exactly what you need, handing you a cup before you can say you’re thirsty, calling you at the precise time you leave to walk in the dark, kissing you right before you say his three favorite words. So, it’s not surprising when he looks up to see you with tears spiraling down your face.

Although, he can’t tell if their happy tears or not. He thinks in some part of himself that they must be, that if you were so heartbroken you would’ve parted the crowd of people to get to him—or worse fled outside or to a bathroom, somewhere to cry by yourself. But you look so sad. A picture of pain, standing all alone in a corner—bliss and mischief touching everything but your tragic little bubble.

Without warning, Jaemin finds himself rushing to you, offering only a short see you later! Before separating himself from the boys surrounding him. You’ve caved into yourself, crying and sniffling about something he couldn’t understand, what happened in the forty minutes he’d been away from you to make you like this?

“Hey…hey, look at me. What’s wrong? What’s on your mind pretty thing?” his voice so quiet in such a loud room, the deep timbre of it reverberating through your shaking frame. It cuts through the electronica coming from the speakers and finally your eyes meet. And there he is, your disgustingly pretty boy. So handsome and darling even with worry in his eyes, boyish beauty covering every inch of him. How you love him, and this love only makes you cry more: barely getting your words out,

“Oh, it’s nothing Jaemin, I just love you.” Your speech is slurred and spluttered out, almost indistinguishable from the whimpers and sobs from before, but he hears you. He thinks his ears must be fine-tuned to your voice because there is no other way he should’ve been able to decipher your upset dawdling’s.

“You silly creature, why would you cry over me?” “Jus- just love you that’s all. Can’t believe you love me too.” Your words end in a huff, blanketed by the sound of his arms pulling you in. He’s so tall, bigger than you in every way and yet you fit together like a puzzle. His arms caging you in, pressing so close to put your ear to his heart. It’s beating so fast, pulsing beneath your head in an uneven rhythm, he must’ve been so worried. It makes your head hurt a little thinking about your sweet summer boy looking up to see you like this, rushing over for nothing but the drunk ramblings of someone who should probably be in bed.

“So, these are happy tears?” a nod given hesitantly from you in response, you aren’t quite sure they are happy—more of a mix, a bittersweet concoction of future happiness and past regret that you can’t seem to name. “Promise?”

“Yes, Jaem, I promise.” it’s only then does he let up, pulling you away from his chest for just a moment to look at your tear-stricken face. He loves every version of you, but he wished he didn’t have to see this one; Sleepy and sad and crying over silly things.

“I love you so much, and I’m glad you know… even if it makes you cry all alone at parties.” Your smile is a shot of spring, giving new life to the previous tragic picture of it. He wishes you were alone, free to love you in all the ways he needs to. He knows these party patrons won’t mind, but you would, and he’d hate to make you uncomfortable in any way even if it is just a kiss in a crowded room—you’d care, so he cares.

He knows you need to leave, knows this loud pulsing of music is doing nothing to calm the storm in your head, he knows he needs to be sensible. With one last embrace, whispering his true feelings, he offers you his hand and says, “Let’s go home, huh?”

The walk is fast, but the night chill bites. Sobering you from the inside out and forcing the two of you to stand together like you’re in a three-legged race—laughing and stumbling into the dark. He jokes and teases and wishes for your smiles, not daring to kiss you until your eyes light with happiness instead of this strange melancholy you found yourself in. When you finally grin up at him, he thanks God you’re alone.

Finally, there is no one around but your boy and the stars, smiling down at you and waiting for your next move. He presses his hands to your face to trace the path your stray tears took. He’s such a pretty boy, alive and electric and in love, and all you can do is kiss him. A slow press of your lips before he takes control, searching for the love on your lips, whittling you down to the bone so the only thing on your mind is him, him, him.

He tells you he loves you too in between kisses, it’s so messy, smiles meeting in the middle and clacking teeth. Kisses so harsh you wonder where your sweet boy went, just for him to shift back—tender hands on fragile skin.

You think this is what it means to have found your person, trusting your heart and your body in someone else’s hands and walking into the night.

Jaemin’s body is warm, so yours is too; his smile is the crescent moon above you, reflecting off your own until you’re both smiley fools rushing towards your front door. You know what will happen next, you know he’ll show you how fluent in love he really is—show you with his hands and his heart and his tongue, how he’ll tuck you in and tell you his three favorite words. You know you’ll wake up to his love again, surrounding you like the early morning sun and making you cry tears of pleasure instead of bittersweet pain.

You know you’ll be happy and in love,

and when your pretty boy tells you, I love you sweetheart, you’ll say it back.

You are in love.

#nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jaemin x reader #jaemin fluff #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct x reader #jaemin #nct dream x reader #na jaemin #nct dream #nct #✧ drabble

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theroseredreaper · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! I heard about you from Ry-Ry’s recommendations! I’ve read some of your stuff and it seems really amazing! I’d like to have a piece of your work!

Could I have a Malleus and reader just watching the starry night skies, but Malleus is watching the stars in the reader’s eyes? I love him sm 💕💕 if not, completely understand! Don’t worry!

I’ll be reading your future posts! You have my support! 💕💕💕💕💕

(Main blog is @minimallyminnie, not this one by the way, in case I ever tag you in anything)

Stargazing (Malleus x Reader)

(A/N): I’m sorry it took so long to get to your request! I’m glad you like my writing!!! 🥰 Thank you for your support and mutual love for Malleus! I love him just as much, and your request inspired me greatly! I hope you enjoy!!

Reader is implied to be the player character/the prefect. Reader is written as someone who hasn’t had the chance to see the stars before.

“I must confess, sometimes I miss being able to see the stars while here at Night Raven College. As nocturnal fae make up the majority of the castle staff, there is little need for the halls to be lit at night. I often had a clear view of the stars from my bedroom window, when it wasn’t storming or cloudy.”

Malleus’s eyes were fixed on the sky above as you sat side by side on Ramshackle’s porch, your eyes fixed on his face as he spoke, hands just shy of touching each other. The two of you were weakly illuminated by the dim porch light, awake far beyond curfew. Malleus’s visits were always worth the cost of your sleep, in your opinion, though.

Tonight, he seemed wistful as he looked up at the sky.

“Do you feel homesick, when you look up at the sky?”

He smiles, a gentle tug of lips that you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so focused on him.

“At times.” His eyes shift from the night sky as his head turns to meet your gaze. “Do you?”

You shake your head, thoughts scattering for a moment as he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“No. Even in another world, the sky is the same no matter where I go. It’s comforting, in a way, to be honest. But…”

Now you were the one looking up at the sky, cloudless and dark, faintly illuminated by the school building in the distance.

“I’ve never really had the chance to see the stars, actually. I’ve always lived in places with too many lights to see them.”

His lips parted for a moment as he blinked, his eyes turning to follow yours to look at the school building as he turned over that confession in his mind.

“I suppose as a diurnal species, the constant need for light during the night means that you cannot see the stars as you please.”

You nod, pulling your fingers from his just a bit to idly play with his hand.

“It’s kinda a shame, honestly. I guess it can’t be helped, but…I’d love to be able to see them one day.” You slot your hands back together, eyes glancing up to meet his for a moment before glancing away again just as quickly. “Especially the view in Briar Valley.”

Malleus gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes seeming to glow as he gives you another smile. “You need only say when.”

The two of you lapsed into a content silence, pressing shoulder to shoulder as you both returned to looking up at the blank night sky, your joined hands a warm anchor in this dream-like bubble.

“Hm…would you join me, to some place further than our usual walk?” You look up at him, question dying on your tongue when faced with Malleus leaning into your space much closer than was good for your heart, his eyes aglow with excitement. “I know of a place here, with a clear view of the stars. I can take us right now, if you’d like.”

You had to take a moment to swallow, struggling to remember how to turn your thoughts into coherent speech. In the end, you can only manage a nod, ready to to stand, when Malleus grins and withdraws his hand from yours to quickly wrap his arm around your waist, tugging you close into his side. His murmuring into your ear to close your eyes is the only warning you get before his magic flashes and you feel weightless, Malleus’s arms around you the only support you have. You slowly open your eyes tentatively when you feel his feet settle on the ground just as the smell of the ocean hits your nose, and you can’t help the gasp that escapes you as you take in the sight before you.

“It’s beautiful, Malleus!” you whisper, leaning against him in your attempt to take in everything. To talk any louder would feel as though it would shatter this private moment with him.

Before you lay a blanket of stars, brightly indistinct like fluffy clouds of blue and purple, white and pink. They were so brilliantly plentiful that they were as though a master painter had created his magnum opus, a painting that one would never tire of looking at. You had no idea the night sky could be so colorful, or that the ocean waves and sandy shore could glitter like this under the glow of the moon and stars.

“It is,” he agreed, but his response came distractedly late. His eyes were much too focused on observing the stars that were reflected in your eyes as you looked up at them with open awe, a quiet smile on his face. He would have never thought he’d find a view he loved even more than looking up at the stars back home, before he met you.

“You saw skies like this all the time back home, huh?”

He hummed in another distracted response to your question. Curious to see if he was as in awe of the stars as you were, you turned your face to look at him, only to find his eyes already meeting yours. The surprise left you breathless.

“It’s a sight I’ll never tire of,” he says, the words so quiet that they would’ve been stolen by the sound of the waves cresting upon the shore if he hadn’t been holding you so close.

His eyes continued to remain fixed on yours.

Your lips part, an attempt to form a response, thoughts scattered and trying to not be further distracted by the way his eyes followed the movement of your lips.

“Can…” you hide your face against his shoulder, hiding from his tender gaze. “...can we come and watch the stars again soon? Just the two of us?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle in delight, nudging you with his shoulder to look up at him. As soon as you peeked at him, face warm with embarrassment, he took the opportunity to quickly press a kiss to your forehead.

“I’d love nothing more.”

(A/N): Once again, sorry it took so long! I hope you enjoyed it! :)

#twst x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twst malleus draconia x reader #twst malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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coloursflyaway · 8 months ago

Note

Ok, so I’m a big fan of your dbda fics and I saw you were asking for prompts. I have 2, one of which is inspired by one of your reblogs.

1. Charles kisses Edwin at the worst possible time, maybe ending in them getting captured and Edwin giving him a lecture on “time and place”, Charles arguing with “you’re one to talk about time and place”, referring to the hell confession

2. Preferably very angsty, Charles wants to kiss Edwin to try and figure out if he feels the same way, and Edwin stops him, saying something along the lines of “if we did kiss and you didn’t feel the same way I don’t think I could bear it”

Obviously no pressure to write either of them, but I would love to see how you would develop these ideas more.

Hiii, thank you so much for these ♥♥♥

I'm keeping the second one for later, because I really like that, but here's a little ficlet for the first prompt!

It’s not like Charles plans it to go like this, is it?

In fact, he isn’t sure if he could plan it like this if he tried, he’s not sure if anyone could.

It’s just something that happens, because, to be honest, it was always bound to happen at some point, and it’s not Charles fault that Edwin, well. Stood there. Looking so pretty with his perfectly coiffed hair and his kind eyes and high cheekbones.

Not even the look of slight exasperation had detracted from how much of a vision he looked, maybe because Charles has gotten more than used to it in the thirty-odd years they have known each other.

(He knows exactly how many years it’s been, how many months and days too, could probably reconstruct it down to the hour, but that gets to be his little secret, only admired sometimes in dark nights and especially bright mornings, when Edwin is reading or doing research or concentrating on something else enough that the tip of his tongue peaks out between his plush, pink lips.)

And Charles didn’t decide to take a step towards him, just like he hadn’t decided to reach up and put one hand on Edwin’s cheek, feeling the sudden breath Edwin had taken.

Two decades ago, Charles had persuaded Edwin to try breathing again, at least occasionally, as a little luxury, a little treat, and it still makes him smile to see Edwin do it, made him smile in that moment, too, and maybe that had been a decision.

But leaning in and kissing Edwin, that hadn’t been a choice at all.

Just something he had to do in that moment, because there was a little smudge of chalk on the edge of Edwin’s jaw, because Edwin had looked at him and behind and around and between the exasperation, he had looked so fond.

And Charles had thought, he loves me, and then, I love him, too.

What other choice did he have than kiss that love onto Edwin’s lips?

Only that when he pulls back, a smile on his lips and, if possible, even more love in his heart, Edwin is looking him with wide eyes and his lips kissed pink, but not curved, not smiling.

“Charles”, he starts, and Charles isn’t certain he has heard this tone in his voice before; it makes him giddy to think that this is something brand new he gets to find out about his favourite person in the world. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry”, Charles starts out of habit, then stops himself, brow furrowing. “Actually, no, I’m not sorry at all. That was great and I’ll do it again. And again.”

He grins at Edwin, happiness bubbling in his chest until he feels like he’s bursting; a sound drips from Edwin’s lips, something in between a gasp and a whine.

“There’s a time and a place-”, he begins a speech Charles has heard before, and it’s so easy to interrupt him this time, because Charles usually doesn’t mind the scolding, but there’s more important things right now, like kissing Edwin again.

“You mean, like not in the middle of summoning a demon? Yeah, maybe. But I’m not sure if you really get to talk about times and places. At least it’s not on the stairway to Hell, is it?”

And Edwin’s eyes widen even more, if that is possible, and not that Charles doubted it before, but God, he really does love him.

Without thinking, he moves his thumb to wipe the chalk from Edwin’s skin, and Edwin sucks in a breath, then, with the quietest, most hopeful voice, asks, “You do mean it, don’t you? You’re sure? This isn’t just a-”

“Of course I mean it”, Charles cuts him off, before Edwin can say anything else, can think that Charles might not be serious about this for a moment longer. “Have never meant anything more than this.”

Another breath, one that Charles can almost feel against his skin, and Edwin nods.

“Maybe, then, after the demon, we could-”, he starts, but doesn’t get to finish this sentence either.

“Sod the demon”, Charles says, and means it.

This time, when he kisses Edwin, it’s a choice, and it’s the best one he’s ever made.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #charles rowland #edwin payne #painland #charles x edwin #paynland #chedwin #i love writing charles being impulsive so much #and i think it could absolutely just be a single moment of nothing special at all to make him go #oh #i do love him like this as well actually #i should kiss him about it

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cloudcountry · 2 years ago

Text

like real people do: diavolo

they've seen the world shift and change throughout their long, long lives, but if they could they would have given it all up just to be with you.

~~~~~

I could not ask you where you came from I could not ask and neither could you. Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips We could just kiss like real people do.

~~~~~

The stack of paperwork on Diavolo’s desk never seems to decrease in size. He sighs, tearing his gaze away from the pile and towards the packet currently in front of him. He can briefly make out something about the economy in the outskirts of the Devildom and how their markets don’t have as many laborers, and he feels a headache coming on. Everyone looks to him. He’s still an incredibly young demon, and yet the weight of an entire realm is on his shoulders. It isn’t hard to see why he’s slowly deteriorating, nor can he be blamed for it.

Right?

He wishes he could have fun like those rowdy demon brothers do, going off on adventures with MC and visiting sweets shops and being able to talk to each other about things. (Even though Lucifer always said siblings weren’t as fun as Diavolo thought they were, he had to disagree. What he wouldn’t do for a cute little sister or brother to spoil and spend time with. Unfortunately, that was not his reality. His reality was stacks of paper and stuffy suits and formal events and speeches that were meant to rally demonkind together.)

A soft knock at the door snaps Diavolo out of his thoughts, and he sighs.

“You may enter.” he calls out, eyes bleary and unfocused as they turn back to the packet.

“My Lord.” Barbatos bows as he enters, looking as energetic as always, “MC has requested an audience with you.”

Diavolo almost twists his ankle when he jumps up, eyes brightening immediately. A few papers go flying and his pen clutters to the floor. Barbatos does not look amused as the important paperwork is scattered across the office, but Diavolo cannot bring himself to care.

“My Lord, have you finished any of your work?” he asks, stooping down to pick up as many misplaced documents as he can.

“Yes, yes of course! So much work is done! Does my hair look alright?” he frantically looks for a reflective surface, patting down what he thinks may be unruly strands.

“Your hair looks fine as always, My Lord.” Barbatos stands, placing the stack of papers carefully on his desk, “I have served them tea before I came to get you. They talked very fondly about your trip together to Bayside Bonanza Worlds of Wonder. It seems they want to take you out again, though I myself am unsure if I should grant them the pleasure after what happened.”

The last part of what Barbatos says goes flying straight over Diavolo’s head.

Diavolo has to hold back a booming laugh at that. It’s like his heart is soaring with glee at their proposition. He has to remind himself daily that just because he doesn’t have the brothers doesn’t mean he doesn’t have anyone. He has Barbatos, Lucifer, and them. (Most of all, them. But he could never admit that to himself. It seems…selfish.)

”What wonderful news!” he beams, crossing his arms over his chest in a vain attempt to contain the affection threatening to bubble up and explode within him, “Please, escort me to them at once!”

“As you wish, Young Master.” Barbatos bows, turning to lead him out of his office, “Though I must warn you, I will still hold your accountable for the work you need to do.”-

That comment would normally sink his mood immensely, but the promise of them keeps his heart light. It’s a mystery as to what he would do without them, but hopefully he’ll never have to find out.

(Hopefully they’ll be around forever. Another ideal, added to his lofty tower.)

The hallways all blur together as he rushes through the palace, Barbatos following a safe distance behind him as his heart pounds so hard in his chest that he hears it in his head. He knows where they are, he knows they’re getting closer with every step, and yet he’s so, so greedy for a sight of them.

Perhaps he throws open the door with a little too much force, because the first thing he sees of them is their jump of surprise. Their face looks unbelievably shocked, but before he can utter a single apology they’re laughing and jumping out of their seat for an entirely different reason. Their arms are around his neck before he realizes it, and they’re hanging off him with a huge smile and lots of chatter that he can’t even decipher because they’re finally touching him in the way he’s wanted them to for far too long.

(He likes to tell himself that anyone would do. That any physical contact would be enough to sanitate his desire for a casual relationship like this. But no, it couldn’t be just anyone, not after he’s had a taste of them.)

“Well, hello there!” he beams, crushing them against his chest with the biggest smile he’s ever worn, “I’m so glad you could make it! I hope I’m not taking up too much of your time-”

“Oh, no! You aren’t, I promise!” They laugh, looking absolutely ecstatic to be wholly encompassed by him, “I managed to sneak away from Mammon and the others, just for now.”

Mammon. The others. Oh, he gets so jealous when he hears those brothers mentioned. Diavolo doesn’t want to ruin that precious smiling face though, so he covers his flaming envy with his own smile. It doesn’t stop him from holding them even tighter, though, but before he can really indulge in them, Barbatos enters the room with a scowl. He’s clearly upset at Diavolo for not doing his work and running through the palace like a dog, and the second he sees them hanging off of the Demon Prince he gestures for them to get off. They pout and stick their tongue out at Barbatos, which makes Diavolo laugh so loudly he thinks the castle walls might have rattled. They are by far the only human who would ever dare to make such a mocking gesture at a demon, and that’s so endearing.

Before Barbatos can peel them off himself, though, they start loosening their grip. He gives the human one last squeeze before setting them down, resisting the urge to pout just as they had at the loss of contact.

“I’m delighted to have you, MC!” he smiles, offering them his elbow to make up for the interrupted hug, “Allow me.”

They swoon dramatically and take his arm, allowing him the pleasure of walking them over to the small tea table set in the center of the room. He fixes the positioning of their chair for them (and internally giggles about how they were so excited they almost knocked the ancient piece of furniture over when they threw themselves at him) and gestures for them to sit.

“Thank you.” they say, looking right at home in the Demon Lord’s Castle.

Diavolo ignores the giddy feeling that wells up in his chest at how domestic this feels as he sits down across from them.

“What brings you here, MC?” he asks, setting his intertwined hands on the table.

“Well…” they do the same, clearly teasing him for his formalities, “I wanted to discuss some business with you.”

“Ah, Barbatos has made me aware of your plans to...how did you word it?” he hums, amused at their choice of words that he absolutely remembers.

“Take you out. Like a date.” they grin, radiating smugness that's very becoming of Solomon’s student.

Diavolo wishes they could have this conversation away from Barbatos, who pours their tea as though he isn’t listening. He envies Barbatos’s ability to be present but act as though he couldn’t be more removed—Diavolo thinks his life would be a bit easier if he could do the same. Except he can’t, because he has stacks of paperwork in his office that scream his name every night and make him toss and turn until he gives up and stares at his dark purple canopy and waits for morning. It would be easier to sleep if they were there, he thinks, and he has half a mind to ask Barbatos to make a portal to their room in the House of Lamentation, where they are no doubt sleeping peacefully, so he can drag them into his arms and finally, finally have a good night’s rest.

A rest where he can be Diavolo, with no responsibilities and no crushing weight of an entire realm. Where he can be the demon that takes them out on dates without the entire Devildom scrutinizing them. Where he can be the demon that tries to win the brothers over for their permission to date them (instead of them being too intimidated to tell him no.) Where he can be the demon that walks them to RAD without stares and whispers following them on campus. Where he can just be the demon they love, without consequence or obstacle or any deep rooted hatred.

The world doesn’t work like that.

“Lord Diavolo...?” they wave their hand in front of his face, a concerned expression on theirs, “Are you alright? You just zoned out-”

“Fine, I’m fine MC.” he coughs into his hand, hoping his embarrassment doesn’t show, “Ah...yes, I would be happy to accompany you to Bayside Bonanza Worlds of Wonder.”

“Without the...bump in the road?” they laugh awkwardly, wincing as they catch Barbatos’s eye.

Right, that. Even though that man had been of no danger to Diavolo, if anything had happened to him Barbatos would have had both their head and Belphegor’s. He always thought human beings were beautiful, just like them, but that had been his first exposure to how wicked human beings could truly be. They do coexist with demons already, but it’s a parasitic relationship where the demons take and take and the humans only get worse and worse. Demons suck the life out of humans, they consume them whole, desires and all. It’s a terrible thing, and even though Diavolo knows he’s a demon himself and that he’s not exempt from these things, he wants to do whatever he can to change it.

They only inspire him, spur him on, make his lofty ideals seem possible.

“Without the bump in the road.” he whispers, reaching across the table to offer them his hand.

They take it without a second thought, and their lack of hesitation is as amusing as it is reassuring. They really aren’t scared of it, are they? It’s not just about Diavolo being a demon anymore, or about him being demon royalty. It’s about the responsibilities being close to him will bring. It’s about the fate of two entire realms, resting in their hands, and he wants to ask if it’s as exhausting for them as it is for him but he doesn’t.

He doesn’t feel like he has to, because with them, he is stronger.

Diavolo has always been concerned about what his spoiled upbringing did to his character, whether he forced Barbatos to stay with him or whether he imposed his will a little too hard onto Lucifer during meetings. Now he has to worry about what it will do to them, and their bright smile that he wants to keep all to himself. It’s why he holds himself back, refusing to ask them to accompany him anywhere, but their steady acceptance and even them seeking him out voluntarily has his restraint dangling by a thread.

It won’t be long until he leans in, souls flaring with desire, and captures them. It doesn’t matter what part of him he takes first, as long as he can drag his mouth along the soft patches of skin and make the flesh scream Lord Diavolo was here.

Guilt crashes over him the second the desire subsides, and he feels the need to apologize to them almost immediately. What is he thinking? He’s so jealous of the brothers that get to crowd them every day that he’s losing his mind. He wants to be that close to them, he wants to be able to waltz into their room and sit on their bed and play Mononoke Land but he can’t, and he’s so very sorry.

Being a demon and having desires is who he is, and yet he finds himself apologizing for it every chance he gets.

He doesn’t want to scare them.

“You’ve never scared me.” they whispered, brow furrowed as they trailed a hand down his face, “Diavolo, I promise you’ve never ever scared me.”

It was the first time they told him they weren’t scared.

The first time they’d said his name.

It was the first time someone held him that gently, and the first time someone had treated him like a friend.

Diavolo finds himself staring at them again, and when they squeeze his hand he squeezes it back.

He has only one desire now.

And damn it, that desire is to be able to love them.

#auburn's fics <3 #om: like real people do <3 #obey me angst #obey me x reader #obey me #om x reader #om! x reader #obey me diavolo x reader #om diavolo x reader #diavolo x reader #om! diavolo x reader

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misc-obeyme · 5 months ago

Text

nightbringer lesson 46

I really thought this lesson was gonna drop tomorrow, but here we are! It's fine though... because I LOVED IT 😭😭

Y'all can just leave me alone so I can simp over Mammon in peace, thanks. There's nothing big or important happening in this lesson except that I'm love with Mammon, that's it.

Just to get things out of the way, there was a part at the very beginning where MC asks Simeon if he's okay and he says he is and Lucifer hits us with one of his classic "..." speech bubbles. Luci knows what's up.

He does this whenever he knows something that he's not saying.

Hard Mode was once again the Little Ds and No 1 showed up, but at the very end it was Lucifer saying he came to talk to Simeon... and then it ends like what the??

But other than that, this lesson was a FEAST for Mammon fans, I tell you!!

At first we had a little bit of Lucifer and Levi calling Mammon dumb which always annoys me, but then THEN

They go and help him with the preliminaries of the Geography SF which is hunting for a ticket to the finals like a treasure!

Actually, it was Lucifer, Levi, and Simeon along with Mammon and MC.

It was actually really cute, I loved the brotherly cooperation! And I love the dynamic all these characters have with each other!

AND THEN

There's this part where they go to the frozen north of the Devildom and they have to fight something called a deathjokul and Mammon just straight up takes that thing out. And then they go to the desert and deal with a death worm and while MC helps him out this time, it's still like YEAH.

Basically, I felt like we finally got a little glimpse of the kind of demon Mammon really is. The power he almost never uses. He's ranked second of the bros, so he's no pushover. But he rarely ever uses any of that power until he HAS to. And he was all about protecting MC.

AND THEN AND THEN

Like an absolute cutie he was so nervous about giving his speech at the finals! And you get the option to kiss him to help with his nerves!!! I nearly died. He's so precious and I love him so much.

This right after you kiss him for "luck" so he won't be nervous. I just... he's so... a;skldfjf

Locked lesson shows us Lord Diavolo and Barbatos talking about tea while fighting extremely dangerous kelpies because they're just cool as fuck like that.

Yeah, I liked this lesson hee hee. Don't mind me, it's just Mammon loving hours.

Two last screenshots:

I had to screenshot this because I say "cakewalk" all the time and I was like no wait did you really just say that?? ;ldksfjdlskf

He says this if you choose to say you're a denizen of the Devildom in your heart. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN DIA? Please let me become one for real, I would be so happy...

Anyway, like I said no real important things or big reveals, but boy did I enjoy the Mammon content...

#I'm sorry for being such a simp please don't look at me #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me spoilers #obey me nightbringer lesson 46 #misc lesson recap #misc rambles

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sheepispink · 10 months ago

Text

A Pearl (1/2)

based on the song by mitski because i love mitski and hot traumatised men

Summary: Years of horrific memories still weigh down on him even as he promises to let you help him move on. All you want to do is help, but its not enough.

Part 2 Masterlist AO3

tags: Leon Kennedy/Reader, Hurt/No comfort, Angst, fem! reader, mentions of re4 (no specific spoilers dw guys), mentions of ptsd, heart wrenching angst 😘

other notes: for clarification, the timeline goes— after the raccoon city incident, then he goes on the re4 mission, then it’s like the smaller missions like damnation etc. Towards the end and next chapter it’s basically vendetta. But theres no actual spoilers bcus tbh.. i haven’t watched any of the movies except id 💀

Ch1: Before it Ended

Like a dream is how you’d always describe it. His coworkers, your friends —anyone who had heard of his name— would come up to you, fawning over your pretty looks and lovely personality. They’d ask you every time, “How did it happen?” And always, you’d replay that memory in your head.

“It was winter,” You’d begin by recounting the snow that fell upon your face that day, the breeze that bristled your bones, and the way his hair looked frozen in place. You’d remember the laughter that bubbled in your throat when you saw that and how his lips curved ever so slightly for what you believe was the first time. Some of the soft strands of your hair had itched your skin; It was messy from having been shaken from the depths of sleep, and now your fingers tuck the rogue locks behind your ear. Eyes like a pretty lake, hair like wheat, with his random strands and dirty blonde roots you would soon learn to run your fingers through. He stood before you, only the dim porch light illuminating him on that winter night. “Why are you out so late?” You had asked him, your hand reaching forward to tug him into the warmth of your apartment. Little did you know that’d tug him into your life as well.

The refusal was clear; he shook his head, puffs of warm air escaping as he explained that he had something to tell you. His clothes were dirty, scratched in places, and his combat knife was only hastily put away—just work, he explains, desperate to leave a good impression on you. He had finished, and he was sure that now that he’d have time, he’d be free from the shackles of the years that would creep up on him. Cheeks flushed and Adam’s apple bobbing—you still aren’t sure whether the cold or a blush caused that. “I know I’m always gone, and we dont see each other as often anymore, but I swear- I’ve sorted everything out. I’ve fixed it.” He says his words rushed and mumbled, like his heart was spilling out then and there.“I know this is sudden- i know, but- i just.. Will you marry me?” He blurts out and every puff of air that leaves his mouth feels like another log added to the fire you didn’t know was built in your heart for him. A campfire, as you’d always describe it, is comforting and warm, the perfect reassurance in cold times. Perhaps you should’ve chosen something detrimental to life, but you preferred the romantic speech.

Everyone loved the tale as you did, enamoured with how you managed to get the stoic agent to fall head over heels with you. He’d walk over right then, slinging an arm around your waist, giving you a tender kiss to your cheek, and plastering a smirk on his lips. “Still telling everyone that story?” He’d tease as his fingertips gently rubbed your side, the silver band on his ring finger twinkling with the same light his wine glass did. “As usual.” You’d reply, that same bubble of happiness rising in your throat again as you tilted your head upwards, waiting for the small peck that always came.

Always.

A year would go by, and you’d been learning more and more about each other. Nothing seemed to be too big of a step for you. Opposing voices, loud huffs, doors slamming shut until the other would open it quietly, apologise, crawl into the warmth of their shared bed, and work things out with sweet reassurances. Work was tough; he was on more missions than ever, being considered one of the greatest men to serve your country. Warmth that you always described as adoration filled your heart whenever you heard that phrase; you couldn’t be more proud of him for it.

Besides, not even that could tear you down; nothing could break the delicate encasing that surrounded the pair of you. A greenhouse, you’d say, because it held all the things that grew only with a person’s own nurture and care. Like your relationship, crafted and melded by your kind words and your soft voice. It’s a shame greenhouses are made of glass.

Weekends were quieter now, something you had decided to take in stride; you decided to plan something nice for when he returned. The he anniversary he had missed too. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him now, resorting to spraying his cologne on the pillows in that cold bed to retrieve some imaginary warmth. Then it came—the day he’d return. Open arms is what you welcomed him with; he had always loved to hug you, and holding you close was a remedy for his mind, he’d say. But those words stopped forming after some time. You ushered him into the shared bed that night, your arms curling around him after the nice surprise you had set up earlier had gone well. Perfect, you had thought. The bed was still cold, though. You thought about bringing it up with him but decided against it; the warmth of his arms was enough for you.

You should’ve brought it up with him, for the time would have entered where he couldn’t handle it. He had awoken with a jolt, sweat trickling like beads down his temples. Eyes wide and chest pounding, he sat there with eyes darting for a threat and hands searching for yours. Your fingers would intertwine with his, warm against his cold palms, as you sat up beside him. It’d be over soon; thats what you promised— you’d do this together.

Nights like those started occurring more often than ever, until one day, he’s awoken with a sharp jolt again. His movements are much more frantic, his hands searching and searching.

Though, this time, it doesn’t find itself in yours.

It’s tightly wrapped around your neck, his mind screaming to murder you. Bloodshot eyes and prominent streaks of black down your arms— the horrors he had tried so desperately to push away— return to his mind. Your breath wont come. No sweet words, and he looks down to see his hand contaminated with that same murky colour. The sink of his chest feels like a knife as he sees your arm grab out at him, like they did everywhere he went. Those creatures who would grab him, claw at him, and still threatened to take his life. They had destroyed his mind instead.

But there is no mutant, no bloodshot eyes and no streaks on your skin. All he sees is what he’s done to you, his body weight pressing on you as his hand keeps a firm grip around your neck. Your mouth begs for air, denying the sweet reassurance he needed as he sees you turn pale, your eyes flickering with tears. There’s no threat in here; not even the cold breeze from the open window chills his bones. Nothing can hurt more than the desperation in your eyes as your hands claw—No—plead at him for relief. He immediately lets go, scrambling to the other end of the bed as he watches you pant, his heart filled with fear. Fear of himself. You quickly turn to him, mustering out your honeyed phrases through choked breaths. But they’re just letters dancing about, barely going near his ears in the walls he had built between the two of you. Ignorance is bliss, but he can’t break his gaze when he sees the deep streaks of scarlet he left on your neck. Frozen in regret and shame, you tentatively wrap your arms around him to comfort the pair of you. But he feels your tears on his neck; the fear you felt eats at his gut and his conscience. You had never felt so cold before.

The days he had left for missions were the worst nights of your life, you’d say, having been away from your heart for so long. But even as you see him drinking his morning coffee, those eye bags prominent, you think your heart might be buried in Spain, infected with the plagas of love that died out.

Unspoken was what had happened that night— a silent promise between the pair of you with small random affections to bandage up the wound he had inflicted. He was still going on the small missions, but they were shorter, and he was back to fill the bed every night. The flowers in the vase never died—a different shade, flower, or even scent every week. A different kind of love.

This continued for weeks, up until you were out with some friends, each talking about their love lives, which was always a topic between the three of you. One of them gushes about how their husband’s love language is gift-giving, describing each and every homemade affection they receive on the daily. Soon it gets around to your turn, and when you speak about his love language, physical touch comes to mind again. Whether it was playing with your hair, rubbing your hands as you walked in the cold, or leaning on you after hard days, he always wanted to be near you. Your mouth fails to respond; no words form yet no examples are recalled in your brain either. You laugh sheepishly, trying hard to wrack your head for something sweet he’s done, until you just laugh it off and talk about how you love him again.

The bed’s empty when you slip inside it; he hasn’t returned yet and he won’t be back for another hour or so. The ceiling accompanies you as you desperately try to remember an act of affection in the last few weeks. It’s only now that it finally hits you, like a tonne of bricks through your skull—

He’s been distancing himself from you.

Knowing that you get caught up in little things, he occupied your mind with flowers and sweet notes. Not once have you actually heard him say any of it or felt his touch, if not accidental. He sleeps at a distance at night, and even when you shuffle closer somehow, you wake up further apart than before. You havent had a meal with him in weeks and you haven’t actually heard that raspy voice you remember as he complains about his day. You cannot remember the last time you felt warmth, and you can’t remember when you last cried this hard.

You’re in the bathroom, wiping away the stray tears as you look at yourself in the mirror. A heavy ache that still scrapes against the walls of your heart, unsure if you feel better or worse after coming to terms with this. Every pump feels like it’s dragging you down instead of keeping you alive. The rush of blood is like-

The front door clicks open.

You almost freak out and you’re not even sure why you would. Why are you scared of this? Why are you suddenly scared of him? Your feet hurries you back to your shared bed, settling under the covers once more to try to play it off as just tiredness. You still can’t figure out why you’re doing all this or why you start to form excuses for your behaviour in your mind. He never does. So why would you? The footsteps draw closer; they’re just slightly heavy, much softer than when he wears his boots. You hear the bedroom door unclick and your shoulders tense with every second.

But you dont see him enter. Slow breathing and closed eyes— you’re even lying on your side as you pretend to be asleep.

————————————————————————

Leon breathes out a heavy sigh, his chest sinking to drain out all his exhaustion from today. There’s a rustle of clothing as he undresses, pulling on some random sweatpants and a spare shirt for the night. Why should he even care if its clean or not? He walks over to his side of the bed, rummaging around the bedside table for something. Then he pauses, his eyes catching onto something in his peripheral view. Tear stains?

You hear the creak on the bed as he leans half his weight on it, about to reach out to you. Your heart beats faster. Is it because you dont want to worry him with your tears, or are you afraid of him? You don’t know. His fingers brush your cheek ever so gently, his voice echoing out your name so, so softly.

“Hey.. you awake?” He asks, and even though your heart is melting into a little puddle so easily, some stubborn stick clogs your throat. His sigh fills the room again and he pulls the blanket over you, tucking it snugly over you before brushing the hair out of your face. Maybe he’s just tired these days, you think. He’s been through a lot after all; it explains all of it. Really, you shouldn’t have been so upset at all—his work and life are on an entirely different level for you.

You’re about to open your eyes, pretend you woke up, and give him a sleepy smile. Images of him giving you a tight hug and one hand rubbing the small of your back as he tells you to fall asleep again fills your mind.

Then he speaks again, the bed creaking as he steps back off of the bed, the warmth leaving as fast as it came. “She’s really knocked out.? Phew.. I do not want to deal with some stupid tears..” He mutters out, his raspy voice much lower and breathless—almost exasperated. A low groan leaves him as he dumps his work clothes somewhere. Then, the bed screams again as he lays his weight on it before he shuffles himself to the end of the bed. He looks back at the space between them, another huff of air leaving his lips.

“That’s good enough. I fucking hate being woken to push her away from me..” Eventually, his breathing evens out, and his shoulders are still tight and tense as his body relaxes into the bed. The night falls quieter, and your mind feels blank.

You don’t know when you fell asleep or if he saw your fresh tears when he woke that morning.

#leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil 4 #re4 #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction #re fanfic #resident evil 2 #fanfiction #angst #spent so long editing this 😭😭😭 pls like this guys #writers on tumblr #reader insert #!pinksheepfics

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xoxomoonlightxoxo · 1 year ago

Text

P&C | Ch. 1: The Night Before I Met You

➪ Playlist (Spotify) l Series Masterlist

"Mira? Miraya? Can you hear me?" my mom's soft cries call out from the phone.

"Hi mom ... m... mom it's a video call, you have to turn the camera towards you," I quickly explain, glancing at my mom's ear that stares back at me through the screen. It only takes her three tries and a hate speech against our electronic world until we are finally met face to face.

"Is it working now? Can you see me?"

I nod, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Miraya, how are you? Why don't you ever call us? I can't sleep at night thinking about how you're all alone. Your dad is getting mad at me, he thinks my worrisome would somehow bother you. Says you're too busy." her words, although sprinkled with annoyance are coated with genuine concern that fills the room.

Moving out of my parent's home is one thing, but moving to another country ... alone ... is something completely different. I used to say the world is my oyster all the time, but now that I've tasted that stupid oyster, I feel ashamed of my poor judgment. I would rather walk across a field of legos barefoot than go through another immigration process on my own.

See, a year ago, I would have only dreamed of living in Korea. Learning about the culture and exploring their diverse cuisine. It was all fun and games until hope turned into manifestation, which then transformed into a deep-rooted determination. I've spent all three years of high school, working my ass off, perfecting my GPA to appeal to the board of education. I guess it all paid off in the end, since fast forward to a year later, and I am now living in my one-room dorm at one of the most prestigious universities in Korea.

"I'm sorry Mom, I truly am. I keep meaning to, but honestly, there's just not enough time in the day." I try to convince both of us.

To be honest, it has been about 2 months since I arrived, but with each passing day, I feel more and more lost. This whole time I've been consumed with academics, relying on nothing but my humongous brain to pull through with this mission. But, now I realise that in terms of just living, functioning as one singularity in the real world, I am hopeless. An absolute noob of a human being. I've grown too comfortable living under my parent's wings. Always enclosed in a bubble of security and protection, which I'm eternally grateful for if it wasn't for the fact that I'd become a complete menace to my older self.

Nonetheless, I'm here, somehow managed to overcome the post-immigration depression, even though the state of my dorm would like to argue otherwise. This is partially why I tend not to call home as often as I wish to or should. I never want my parents to see the behind-the-scenes of my "success", they at least deserve to live in peace knowing that their daughter who is 8600 km away is managing everything just fine.

"Miraya, please honey, don't make me call you out of worry. I want us to talk daily just because. I miss you so much, it feels like half of my heart left with you." my mom's voice breaks with each word, as her eyes fill with tears.

"Sorry Mommy, I promise I will call every day from now on. I miss you guys as well, it's insane to think that I won't be able to see you guys for Thanksgiving." I try to maintain my composure by changing the topic before nibbling on my lips to calm the nerves.

I'm the oldest daughter out of three kids but my parents have always treated me like their little princess. This means that without fail, I have always taken that to my advantage. And, no you can't talk to customer service about your complaints regarding moi because this main character energy has been deep-rooted in me since my diaper days. So, please, respectfully, keep it to yourself.

Anywho, back to the point. Although my two brothers still live at home, my departure has left a big mark on our family dynamic. My mom has been worried sick for the past 2 months while the men of the family try to calm down her nerves. My brothers are beginning to feel a bit offended as they feel like my mom is neglecting their presence but in reality, she just isn't used to this distance, especially away from her blood. My dad is no better, he may look all tough and composed but for the first week following my departure, he cried himself to sleep while holding on to my childhood plushie.

"Okay, please keep that promise, honey. Everyone is sending you so much love, please take care of yourself. Are you ready for the first day?"

"I mean, as ready as I can get, I guess. I walked around campus today to get an idea of where everything is. The only problem is that I have about 10 minutes to get to my physics class on the other side of the main quad. But, aside from that it's manageable." I nod with reassurance, giving my mom a thumbs up.

"You're a smart cookie, dear. Everything will be just fine. You know I pray for you every day, ask God to protect my baby."

"Thank you, Mommy, well I'm going to have to go now. The dining hall closes in an hour. There's always such a big lineup." I say, looking around for my portable charger.

"Of course, my love. We miss you, please stay safe!" my mom waves me goodbye with a soft smile as the wrinkles around her eyes become more prominent with each call.

And, as the sunset paints the sky in warm, beautiful tones, I quickly grab my keys, ID, and wallet before heading out the door after checking that everything has been unplugged. Speedwalking down the hall, I managed to make it into the elevator before the door closed, that is until I tripped over my flip-flops and stumbled upon something. Perhaps, a body.

I dared not to lift my head, as one hand held onto the wall while the other rested on someone's chest. I could feel my face getting redder but the longer I stayed like this the more it appeared as less of an accident.

"I'm so sorry, are you okay? I was trying to make it to the elevator but my flip-flops had other plans." I quickly say, straightening up as my hand finally detaches from them.

Locking eyes with the poor fellow I was shocked by how composed he was, letting out a slight chuckle as his gaze admired my flushed cheeks.

"No worries, are you okay? Why are we in a rush?" he asks with a boxy smile.

"Oh, no, I'm fine, just embarrassed. I was rushing to the dining hall, there's always such a big lineup." I explain, still trying to maintain minimum eye contact as the blood from my face steadily settles down.

"Aah, I see. Well, don't be embarrassed, it happens to the best of us. Anywho, this is my stop, I guess I'll see you around?" he waves me a quick goodbye before the elevator doors close.

"Yeah, b .. bye," words fumble out of my mouth before I was left reflecting on my actions surrounded by the four walls. Looking up, I was, unfortunately, able to make out the state the guy saw me in.

Hair? Still left in two messy space buns, after I complained of it being in my face the whole time I was unpacking.

My shirt, you might ask? Well, it could only be the most humiliating piece of fabric I could find at my grown age, aka my Barbie merch. This whole time I was worried about my red face, while my shirt was covered in Raquelle printouts. Great.

I was right, the line at the dining hall was long, even more so than usual. But, at least, I was able to find my friend, Jiah. She was the first person I met on campus, and even though we hung out every day since my arrival, we only realized that we were neighbours about a week ago. Women in STEM, what can I say?

"Miraya!" she shouts across the hall, waving her hands as we lock eyes. I squeeze through a literal sea of hungry students and finally make it towards her.

"Jiah, you have no idea how happy I am to finally see you," I say, breathless from all that walking (it was a maximum of 10 steps).

"Finally? What do you mean finally? We saw each other in the morning," the poor girl responds with actual concern on her face. Was I giving hints of an early stage of dementia?

"Yes, but so much has happened. First of all, look at me. I look like I just came out of hibernation." I sigh, realising she wouldn't understand my frustration as she is also repping the Barbie merch.

"What do you mean? You look cute," she reassures me with a small chuckle.

I can't help but laugh because we both look ridiculous, but it's less embarrassing when a 6-foot-blonde guy with a boxy smile isn't involved in the scenario. So, we quickly grab the food and enjoy the little debrief about our first day of classes.

"You know, I compared my schedule with my boyfriend yesterday and we only have 3 classes together." Jiah sighed, pouting her lips.

"Well, you know, 3 classes versus the rest of your life. I feel like you guys will manage just fine." I chuckle, as she smiles back at me.

"You're right, it's silly. I just miss him. He has been away this whole summer, and no one warned me about how tough long distance is."

"Where was he again?" I ask.

"Well, he first went on a grad trip with his guy friends and then back home to visit his grandparents. I just wished he was able to come back sooner. I really miss him." Jiah looks down at her plate, swirling the leftovers with her fork.

"Hey, Jiah, it's just one more night. Do you want to sleep in my dorm for today? We can have a relaxing pampering night, hm?" I say, reaching my hand toward hers as she glances back up with a smile.

"What do you think of this? Or is this better?" I ask, forcing Jiah to judge the fashion show I have created out of my possible outfit options for tomorrow.

"Oh, number 2. One hundred percent. Are you kidding me? You look absolutely drop-dead gorgeous in knee-high boots." she replies with a satisfied look, fully trusting her judgement.

The weather in Seoul is getting chillier so the knee-highs fit the theme, but are they not a bit too much? But also, I did not just go through all of those years to be just much. So, you best believe I will be making an appearance in those bad boys.

"You're right, okay well then I'm all ready. Just have to actually wake up on time." I say, laying on the sofa before looking at the organized row of necessities Jiah and I prepped for the following morning. The rest of the night was spent talking and making dinner before we both fell asleep to the sound of rain.

#bts #bangtan #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x yn #bts x yn #jungkook fanfic #fanfic #jungkook smut #romance #young love #college love #slow burn #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x female reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine

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