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e-dubbc11 · 2 days ago

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On My Way

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Some swear words, sexual reference(mostly PG-13), Billy’s violent side shows a little, fluffy ending.

Word Count: 1.8K-ish

Summary: Told from Billy’s POV. Billy has an assistant that’s a little too flirty and he already has someone very special to him. She threatens to ruin what he’s waited so long for.

A/N: I was perusing Tumblr the other day and found THIS post with the following dialogue prompt…”After everything you have done. How will you sleep at night?"

“Next to my wife.”

I want to give credit to @myladyship This prompt basically punched me in the face, I got really excited when I found it so thank you! And thank you Katherine @k-marzolf for the basis of this fic, I appreciate you! I really like the way it turned out so I hope you like it too 💙

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

It bothered your love at first; the way your assistant danced around the office in her tight little dresses and short skirts, it was painfully obvious she wanted you to notice her, to flirt back when she flirted with you, and she wanted you to forget all about…her.

But you had no idea how far your assistant, Isabel, would take it to get what she desired.

“THAT’S your assistant, Billy?!” Your love exclaimed as she handed you the cup of coffee she picked up for you on her way to work.

Your lips curled into a shy smile.

“Isabel’s not just MY assistant, baby. She’s all of ANVIL’S assistant but yeah she does do a lot of work for me.” You said.

“She gave me a dirty look when she let me in here, ya know.” She said, pressing her lips together in a straight line. “Has she dropped anything on the floor in front of you so she can bend over and pick it up?”

She was always making you laugh and you thought her jealousy was “cute” so you started to chuckle as you replied, “If she has, I didn’t notice. You’re the only one I wanna see bend over in front of me, sweet girl.”

You pulled her in close, tilted her chin up so she was looking into your eyes, and gave her a kiss so deep that you know she felt a tingle throughout her whole body, all the way down to her toes.

She had called you a “cocky little shit” and said you weren’t playing fair but you knew it was difficult for y/n to resist your charm.

“You’re such a cheater. You never play fair, Mr. Russo.” She purred into your ear and bit down on her lower lip to try and stop herself from smiling.

You loved her so much.

“I know I don’t play fair but I like giving you something to think about while you’re at work. Thank you for my coffee, beautiful. I love you.” You said with a warm smile.

She snaked her arms around the back of your neck, kissed you again and replied, “I love you too, handsome. Have a good day, Billy. I know you have a big job today so be extra careful.”

“Always. Now get outta here so I can slap you on the ass and watch you walk away.” You replied with a wink.

Looking over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed a bright red as she walked out of your office to head to work.

You couldn’t wait to see her later.

**********

The problem with crime bosses was there’s always another one in waiting if the current one falls and they were constantly making deals with shady politicians so it was just a vicious cycle...new boss, new deals.

Cut the head off of the snake and two more take its place.

And no matter how crooked those politicians were, they never got their hands dirty and if they did, they made sure they weren’t caught or they had someone else take the fall for it.

They had the distinct privilege of hiding behind their private security and leaving no paper trail. No matter how many mob bosses you took out, there was always another one to take their place but you always did the job you were hired to do…and you never missed.

But today, they had forced you to get your hands dirty. Whatever deals were made, had turned sour, and blood was spilled on the cold city streets tonight. Y/n would understand but you would have to call her and tell her you were going to be late.

Your assistant was privy to certain information, took notes during meetings, and even saw things she probably shouldn’t have but the NDA she signed when she took the job at ANVIL prevented her from talking about it…to anyone.

She was supposed to just be quiet and do her job. She understood that. But she thought you could be tempted, enticed into doing what she wanted, or blackmailed into cheating on the love of your life.

The sleeves of your crisp white dress shirt were rolled up to your elbows as you tried your best to remove the fresh bloodstains from your suit jacket. Your shirt had large spattering of blood across the front, it couldn’t be saved, but maybe the jacket could.

As you scrubbed the dried blood from your hands, you sensed someone was standing behind you, watching your every move, and waiting for the perfect moment to speak.

“This kind of thing happens more than I thought it would when I took the job, Mr. Russo.” She said in a sly silvery tone, leaning against the doorframe.

“It’s the nature of the beast…bound to happen from time to time. You’re here late.” You said as you turned around to face her while you dried your hands.

She was wearing a black pencil skirt and a black and white pinstripe dress shirt. You knew she had been trying to get your attention all day before you and your team left for the job but to no avail.

“I’ve seen and heard a lot of things that go on inside and outside of this office. I know how many people you’ve killed, Mr. Russo. Does your girlfriend know EVERYTHING about what you do for a living? Or does she need someone to tell her?” She asked, seductively rubbing the palm of her hand against her skirt.

An evil smile stretched across your lips as you quickly glanced up at the ceiling then back down to meet her gaze. You knew exactly what she was fishing for so you inched closer to her and angrily asked through clenched teeth, “What are you getting at, Isabel?”

She reached out and gently pulled your tie toward her, she let the fabric run through her long fingers and with a devilish grin, replied, “What I’m saying is…I want you Mr. Russo and if you fuck me nice and hard on your desk right there, I won’t have to tell her about all of the horrible things you do and have done.”

A low guttural growl escaped your lips as you hissed in her ear, “You think she doesn’t know? She knows all about what I do…what I have done and guess what, sweetheart? She loves me anyway and she is the ONLY one that has loved me when I didn’t think anyone ever could.”

Quickly, you grabbed and tightly squeezed her wrist, while her nervous breaths drifted against your skin, and you saw the angry defeated look on her face as she let go of your tie.

“What makes you think I can’t make you disappear too, just like all the others? Hmmm?” You hummed as a wide Cheshire cat smile stretched across your mouth. “Gut you like a fish and then dump your body like the piece of trash you are. They’d NEVER find you.”

She tried to pull her wrist free from your crushing grip but she wasn’t strong enough. You released her and calmly walked over to your desk so you could collect everything you needed for home.

The chilling words you uttered frightened her and you could sense the cold spike of fear radiating off of her body as you intensely watched her chest rise and fall with each shallow breath which is when you decided to remind her of one very important thing.

“Remember Isabel, that NDA you signed prevents you from telling ANYONE about what happens here. Also…you’re fired.” You said, glaring at her with your mouth tipped up in half a sly smile.

Storming off toward your office door, Isabel stopped, turned and asked sheepishly, “After everything you have done. How will you sleep at night?”

That was it.

That was the question you have waited your entire life to be able to answer with confidence.

“Next to my wife.” You replied with conviction and zero hesitation.

A look of surprise suddenly appeared on Isabel’s face. She obviously didn’t know. She never bothered to look at your wedding photo on the desk. A simple gold band dangled from a chain around your neck underneath your dress shirt, not visible to anyone because you didn’t want to wear it on your finger while you were out on a job. However, the tattoo band around your finger was always there and y/n had one to match.

Y/n, your wife, was everything you had ever wanted and needed. In your story, the boundaries between hero and villain were blurred but not to her. You were a hero in her eyes and weren’t cursed to go unloved forever.

Your curt bravado collided refreshingly with her soft strength to work through your pain and haunted memories. She helped to mend the parts of your life that had been fractured by betrayal and little by little, she will continue to heal the visible and the invisible wounds left by the people that were supposed to care for you the most.

Her smile and gentle touches relieved your everyday tension. She washes away all of your daily problems and they drift out to sea as she tenderly scratches your scalp and asks “How was your day, baby?”

No one had ever done that for you before so you weren’t going to let anyone try and take that away from you whether it’s through temptation or anything else.

“Get out and don’t come back. I’ll mail you your things.” You snapped.

She didn’t look back as she hurried out of your office.

**********

The room ceased of sound and movement as you quietly admired the photo on your desk. You smiled as you stared at y/n’s beautiful face, her body tucked perfectly under your arm like she was meant to be there, and her long fingers grazing your tie like Isabel had tried to do earlier.

You never wanted any woman touching your tie again unless it was being touched by your wife. She was the only woman that you would ever let murmur soft sounds to calm you when you had nightmares. She was the only one you opened up to, let see who you truly are, and you never wanted to do anything deliberately to fuck that up.

“Well hey there, handsome. You on your way home?” She said, answering on the first ring.

You paused briefly before answering her.

You thought about how it wasn’t that long ago, you didn’t think it was possible that anyone could love you, that you could allow yourself to be vulnerable enough to love someone else, or even smile just by hearing their voice.

And how you would do anything to protect that love, even if it means doing very bad things.

You were excited to see her and tell her all about what happened today.

“Yes, baby. I’m on my way.”

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @vaguekayla @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf @sweetserendipity65

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @colereads @jediwizardelf @thejanecampaign @folkloreofyennefer @milea @mysweetlittledesire

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x you #billy russo x y/n

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scoops-aboy86 · 18 hours ago

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wc: 647 | Rating: T | CW: mentions of infidelity, technically hurt no comfort because I haven’t written the part where they make up | Additional Tags: future fic, famous Eddie Munson, past Steddie

Okay, look. The tv was on in the background, and Ross and Rachel were breaking up, and this happened in my head. I’m posting it for Fuck It Friday because fuck it. The only thing getting me through life right now is cough drops.

Hell of a Time at the Wake

“Yeah, haven’t had a drink or touched any drugs in five years, as of last month.”

“Oh wow, so that’s from before Corroded Coffin made it big.” The interviewer chuckles. “Usually it’s the fame and rehab that come first.”

“I prefer to think of myself more as regionally notorious, but sure. Never did the rehab thing, though.”

“Well, what’s the story there?”

Behind their frontman, the rest of the band shares a look. “Oh, we don't need to—”

“Nah, Jeff, it’s okay man.” Eddie waves them off, then turns back to the interviewer. “Back before we hit the road to make a name for ourselves, I was seeing someone back home. I mean, the someone. The one. But we kept having this same… not really a fight, just this thing: I wanted to leave town, they didn’t. And then finally we had this huge blowout about it that started as something else and somehow turned into that again, which turned into both of us storming off. They went home, and I went out and got completely shitfaced, and in the morning I woke up with someone whose name I didn’t even know in bed with me.”

The interviewer winces.

“Yeah. And when you do something shitty like that, it’s going to come out sooner or later. Or pretty much immediately, in this case, which.” Eddie grimaces and shrugs. “Well, it gave us something else to fight about, that’s for sure. I knew I’d fucked up bad, but it took hours of back and forth before I realized that we were done done. Trust completely obliterated, no way to come back or move on from that, just… over.”

There’s a pause where he stares off into space for a moment, stuck on a memory. Then he shakes himself and refocuses.

“Anyway, at some point during my doomed attempt to salvage things, I swore I’d never have another drink ever again. Which, the being drunk of it all wasn’t really the problem, so saying that didn’t buy me anything, but… even after it ended, I didn’t. I’d been so fucked up that night, and it wasn’t the booze so much as the fear of it being over that made me a one man self-fulfilling prophecy—but I hurt someone I loved more than anything, and I never wanted let myself get that fucking stupid again, so. I haven’t. And honestly, I sleep better knowing that.”

“Wow.” The interviewer is staring at him, stunned. Probably doesn’t get a lot of this sort of thing, not just because of all the wild rockstars and other celebrities that come on the show with stories about trashed hotel rooms and wild parties, but because Eddie is being honest.

It’s not something he talks about… ever, really. Not even with the guys. But, after five years, it doesn’t hurt the same. It’s not even for St—

It’s not for his ex anymore, if it ever was.

“Why would it be weird?” Gareth is saying. “We have a built in DD, that’s always great. And Eddie doesn’t give us shit for anything, he’s just honest when we ask if anything was too out of hand. It’s a good reality check.”

“And like,” Doug adds, “he’ll still come out with us to clubs and shit to hang out. But if he says he doesn’t want to drive us to a bar it’s not some passive aggressive or superiority thing because we drink and he doesn’t; he’d really just rather fuck off and do something else.”

“Gee, thanks,” Eddie says dryly, but he’s smirking.

Doug flashes him finger guns, the fucking dork. “You’re welcome, asshole.”

And the interview moves on. These guys have been Eddie’s friends even longer than they’ve been his bandmates, and the four of them are solid. If the gossip vultures out there want something to pick at, they’ll have to find a different target.

Permanent tag list (ask to be added/removed):

@hotluncheddie @hiei-harringtonmunson @sofadofax @hickeysgodcomplex @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

And then someone shows Steve the interview and he asks Robin for Eddie’s number, and they talk for the first time in years and end up falling back in love, but that’s the hard to write part so this is what you get. Xoxo

#eddie munson #steddie #past steddie #famous eddie munson #famous corroded coffin #scoops words #fuck it friday

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darth-kote · 2 months ago

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The Bug Collector - Codywan, (~10.5k words, rated t-m for descriptions of fear and slight violence)

𓇢𓆸

The very first time Cody lays eyes on his general, he also happens to be met with a sharp glean in his visor: a ray of light bouncing off the silk of a spider's web that had been set up in the tree behind the Jedi, similar to the way the rest of Cody's men are setting up camp just east. He's thankful his helmet's over his head so his darting eyes don't act as a dead giveaway to his distraction. First impressions last, the voice of Alpha reminds him, causing him to straighten his back and stand at attention. "CT-2224, Sir." He needs to be good at this, to make his general happy. He doesn't want to think about what Nala Se might do to him if he isn't up to her standards. "Reporting for duty. The rest of the men are unloading the weaponry and setting our post." He maintains his posture, and his eyes never leave the spider for long. That is until his Jedi turns around to face him.

"Ah, good." The man before him had seemed smaller to Cody before; with a brown cloak draped over his figure, he'd been almost formless. But now, the hood has been pushed back, revealing a full head of hair the color of a... well, Cody didn't know what to compare it to. It was unlike any clone Cody had met; he imagined a wild beast would be proud to don the mane. It's like gold and blood and iron. His eyes, oppositely, are like pools – not raging waves, but crystal clear, calm pools. "I've been awaiting your arrival." Cody is brought back to the moment by a kind smile, the sort that has only ever been offered by his little brothers when they wanted his attention. "It's good to meet you, eh.."

"CT-2224." He reminds his general.

And there it is again, that smile. Cody hadn't said anything to earn that, and the sense of confusion must somehow become apparent to his Jedi, as he explains. "I remember the number the Kaminoans gave you, yes. But is there something else you'd like to be called?" Cody understands the prior hesitation now, and he feels like a reject clone for being so slow to compute. Now, though, he is left torn between the fear Nala Se has instilled in him and the Jedi's magnetic draw. It feels like a hand has been extended toward him even though they are still separated by meters. The spider still rests, fat, in its web, and Cody is relieved.

Cody swallows, tipping his chin down in contemplation. He knows the Jedi has no facial features to go by - only his body language, which he is mostly thankful for. The name Cody, Kote... it is something only his brothers call him by, and never within earshot of an outsider. He isn't sure if he should trust the Jedi general so quickly, especially with something so close to his heart. But he figures that if he is blindly willing to die for the man, he'd better kriffing know his name first. He deserves a proper prayer said for him when if he dies, at least. "Cody."

Now, the Jedi's face contorts with a wide, toothy grin. "Beautiful. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Cody." The name rolls off his tongue like it's the most natural thing, and it causes something inside the clone's gut to quiver. He's used to the number assigned to him, the awkwardness and mismatch he feels in his bones when someone uses it in conversation – like his body knows the label is a restriction. It feels like what he imagines a restraining bolt to feel like on a droid, intrusive and cold. "Obi-Wan Kenobi," he says and holds out his hand.

Cody gathers the sing-song to be the Jedi's name, and he grasps the held-out extremity without hesitation. He smiles back at the man despite the expression's lack of reception, feeling welcome in every sense of the word.

𓆙

Cody's gut instinct had been right. Obi-Wan has proven himself quite trustworthy to the clones and to Cody himself. He's been the general's right hand for just short of one standard year now, and the battles they've fought together have been hard on both of them. Cody has seen many brothers come and go, just as Obi-Wan has witnessed more Jedi fall than he ever brings up in conversation with Cody. They've deliquesced into a comfortable dynamic nurtured by long meetings in each other's quarters, shared laughter in the depths of hyperspace, and acts of utter selflessness.

Obi-Wan prays over the bodies of Kote's brothers, entertains their questions about his jetii lifestyle, and even encourages them to create a culture of their own. All of this proves he sees them as equals – as living beings that are connected to the Force despite what anyone else might try to have them believe. He once told Cody, to his face and without a drop of hesitation, that he deserves to be humanized. It shouldn't have kept him awake as long as it had the night he'd heard it... but he'd be lying if he said it didn't gain the Jedi his utmost respect. Of course, the Jedi treats just about every living thing with complete care, which Cody never forgets after getting the shab off Geonosis.

"No, no. Sir," He says disapprovingly, helmet cradled in his arm as he enters Obi-Wan's quarters to restrategize for the next campaign. A heavily fortified glass container sits atop the general's desk, and the Jedi is in front of it, watching the contents squirm and thrash intently. Cody chuckles dryly, then, "Tell me I'm dreaming. It's just a... bad dream." He carries on talking to himself, trying to soothe the pit of anxiety that's starting to form in his chest. He's never mentioned his fear of bugs outright; it's pathetic that the Republic's "finest clone" could have a fear as maladaptive as his. Besides, blasters usually made them easier to deal with. The worst is when they (the bugs) come into his territory.

"Not a dream, Cody," Obi-Wan replies, causing a new wave of worry to wash over the clone from head to toe. What if it gets out? What if it bites him? Or worse, his jetii or brothers?

"Don't let your worries get the best of you." Kenobi turns around in his chair, and Cody can see his hair and beard aren't as well-groomed as they might typically be in the war room or when he prepares to speak to the Council. In no way is he a mess (Cody doubts that's even possible.), but he is in a more defenseless state than Cody has ever seen. The marshal commander can tell from the stray flame-like hairs and the verging-on-bloodshot eyes that his Jedi has been sitting over the desk for some time. "This," he motions back to the jar behind him, "is one of the worms used by the Geonosian Queen to... force her will upon her people. I'm sure that if we can return it to Coruscant, research could be done to reverse its effects."

Cody is now squatting low near the wall, his eyes going back and forth between Obi-Wan and the grotesque being beside him. "There's not much difference between us and them, you know." The Jedi's words catch Cody off guard. Sometimes, the general has a way of knowing exactly where his commander's thoughts are. He's heard, time and time again, that the Jedi don't have mind-reading abilities, but when Kenobi pulls something like this, he has a hard time not getting suspicious.

"As far as I'm concerned, we are very different from it. It crawled into... brains, Sir. I saw it, we both did. My brothers they-"

"Weren't themselves, yes." Cody watches the Jedi rise from his chair and waltz to the kettle atop his counter across the room. "I'm not saying they're harmless; nothing alive is. I would just like to have more research done on it, in case something like this happens again. This worm may be the key to similar cases in the future." Cody nods, trying to see from Obi-Wan's perspective.

They both stay quiet for a moment, the only sounds filling the bedchamber being the water starting to boil for tea and the brain worm's slimy squirming. It seems rather docile in the container, but Cody knows that if Grievous were to intercept them, the jar would surely be knocked over and the bug released. He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, not wanting to think about what if. He is here, sitting safely on the floor of his general's quarters, back against the wall, armor on, his helmet less than an arm's length away if he were to need it.

"I won't let it out of my sight," Obi-Wan once again breaks his reverie, stepping closer and offering a mug of steaming liquid. Cody has tried it a couple of times, and he prefers caf's stronger bite to tea's mellow kiss, but he is glad to have something in his hands to keep him grounded – to warm his lips, which had started to tingle from the coldness of space. Cody sips it, forcing his facial muscles not to give away his disdain for the beverage, and he makes sure to thank the Jedi standing above him. "I assure you, it'll reach the capital without any of us being harmed." He says it with such conviction that Cody begins to feel the knots in his stomach unravel, just loosely. And there is a lilt in Obi-Wan's tone that causes Cody to feel warm inside, and in a distinct way that is not from the tea. He takes another sip before setting it down to grab his datapad.

Obi-Wan chuckles as Cody glues his eyes to the screen. Something about the general vowing, no matter how indirectly, to protect his brothers and himself... makes Cody feel like a pile of macerated fruit: sweet, sticky, sickly. He reminds himself that any Jedi would do the same, it isn't in their Code to stand by when tragedy strikes, after all.

"Now, then, Commander," Obi-Wan sits on the floor beside him, his datapad and tea in hand. "Let's begin."

𓆨

Cody loves being on Coruscant. It's never been where he sees his future when he's done being a soldier, but he finds it much more endearing than the vacuum he's usually surrounded by. There are people, music, literature. And since the entire planet has been terraformed into a city, there is hardly ever a bug in sight, at least not the non-sentient kind that have a way of immobilizing him in fear. Hardly.

Things reach a breaking point one day when the Commander goes for his helmet and watches a long silver centipede climb up the side and make itself at home within. He retracts his hand as if it had been burned by hot coals, and he backs away from the geometric face he's used to associating with his identity. He doesn't like the juxtaposition, the fear striking him at the thought of approaching a bucket that's protected him from so much.

Cody could admit that he hasn't always been the luckiest man, but this? It's starting to feel like the Force is toying with him.

There's no room in Cody's mind for logic now, and he can feel his heart beginning to pick up its pace. He hates how his body reacts when he sees a measly, killable bug. He wants to be courageous enough to take it outside and set it on the ground like Waxer or Trapper would, or the follow-through to put the creature out of its misery like Hardcase had demonstrated many times when they happened to be on a mission together. He's too cowardly to proceed with gentleness and too empathetic to proceed with malice. Cody sighs, keeping his eye on the helmet as he backs himself into the corner. His comm, luckily, is attached to his armor, and he needs only flick his wrist to reach out to a savior.

"Come in, General?" His breath is shallow, wary that his most minute movement could trigger the crawler to come for him. He feels sweat at the back of his neck. After a moment of static: "Obi-Wan?" It has to be him. Sure, it might be embarrassing to admit the reason for the urgency in his voice, but he couldn't tell a brother. They'd never see him the same; he is supposed to be strong so that they could be too, and he's sure he would no longer be a respectable Marshal Commander if this secret were to reach the lower ranks. Or worse, Nala Se.

An uncontrollable shiver runs down his spine, just as the voice he'd been hoping to hear crackles over the commlink, tinny but familiar. "Cody? I apologize for the delay – Jedi business," the words are so casual that the clone almost forgets his urgent business that needs tending to. "Are you there, Commander?"

Cody shakes himself and feels his muscles tense when he sees the bucket teeter as the centipede's weight shifts toward the visor. He forces himself not to take his eyes away, despite the tide of nausea that rises in his throat. "Yes. I... ran into a bit of a problem, Sir. Would you mind stopping at the barracks?" The quiver in his voice causes him to screw his eyes tightly shut, disturbed by the loss of composure. He feels pathetic and weak, and secretly wishes they were on the battlefield so he could prove that he has the mettle to withstand more than most.

Obi-Wan is silent on the other end for a moment, the ambiance of the Coruscanti streets being the only sound resounding over the speaker. "Of course. In fact, I was already headed there." Cody feels the pressure in his ribcage begin to ease just slightly. He doesn't care to ask what business Obi-Wan was originally coming to take care of; all that matters is that he's en route, and the bug would soon be removed from his space.

When his Jedi does arrive, Cody is still standing firmly in the corner. The door opens without quiet hiss, and the two men meet eyes from across the small room. Cody can see the question on his general's face – the singular cocked brow and his twitching lips are the only signals he needs. At first glance, the room looks completely typical: nothing is knocked around or broken, all of Cody's belongings are still there, and, of course, Cody himself stands unharmed. A flash of what seems like surprise enters the Jedi's eyes as he takes in the sight, as if he had been expecting much worse. "Well," Kenobi begins, a relieved chuckle in his tone, "I've certainly seen you in worse condition."

Cody tries to smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes, which are still flooded with dread. "My helmet," he points to it, hand unsteady, "get it out." It sounds desperate because it is, and he watches the Jedi's face shift into a more curious expression, thick eyebrows knitting together as he steps toward the center of the room.

Cody backs himself into the wall and watches as the Jedi carefully walks toward the overturned bucket. When he's right above it, a flicker of delight enters his eyes, and a smile dances on his lips. Of course. He nearly reaches to touch the kriffing thing but seems to remember Cody's presence because he turns to meet the clone's eyes. "Cody?"

The commander swallows hard, his throat dry and taut; he hates whatever it is in his brain that pulls such a reaction from him. "I'm terrified." His voice is breathy and nearly gone. It's an admission at its core, and Cody feels vulnerable like never before.

"That's why I'm here." The statement is matter-of-fact as though it is Obi-Wan's sole purpose to save Cody from his fear. He takes an empty jar from the counter, tilting the helmet slightly and calmly until the centipede topples over due to gravity, its legs and antennae nearly indistinguishable as they tap on the glass. As soon as it's in the jar, a lid is secured on top. "I'll release her in the garden. She'll serve us well there. Better than in here, surely." He smiles and looks through the convex glass with what seems to be admiration.

Once his curiosity has been quenched, he slips the jar into the folds of his robe and turns to face his commander again. Cody is silent. The Jedi had made it look so easy. Probably because it is easy. Cody is the outlier here, not everyone else. He is humiliated at how he'd behaved, and even more so because he still wouldn't deem his helmet safe to wear if anyone were to ask. A thorough cleaning will certainly be in order once he is alone again. He feels ashamed and frustrated. "Thank you," is all he says.

Instead of accepting the words at face value, Obi-Wan offers a hand to the man. "We all have something we're afraid of, Cody. But you mustn't let your fear rule you. It's no way to live." The words are brimming with understanding, and it makes Cody wonder what it is the Sith-slaying jetii could possibly be afraid of.

Rather than prying, he somberly takes the Jedi's hand and queries, "How do I overcome it?" He's warmed by the smile that is given in response. Obi-Wan guides Cody to sit at long last.

"You won't like what I have to say," Obi-Wan shifts his weight and crosses his arms, looking at Cody with a sliver of a challenge in his eyes. "It takes being around the things that fill you with fear to overcome them – realizing the endless possibilities in your head cannot all occur in reality. It's something we Jedi focus on heavily in our training. Allowing fear to rule encourages the Dark Side to prevail. You see, our fears can lead us to impulsivity, greed, and suffering. When we overcome them, we can make decisions with a clear mind and heart."

Cody understands. Or at least he thinks he's beginning to.

A yawn suddenly erupts from his chest, the cortisol thrumming through him. He looks around, a last defensive move, to make sure no other bugs have made their way inside somehow.

"I'll leave you to rest," the general smiles, his hair tousled handsomely. As he makes his way toward the door, just as it slides open at his suggestion, he leaves Cody with this: "If you should need my heroics again, Commander, don't hesitate." And then the room lost all its warmth, just the barracks of another sad soldier.

𐀔

Cody takes a deep breath in as he looks out over the rolling green hills and valleys of Kiros before him. The Togruta colonists, now safely out of Separatist hands, are being trained in basic combat by none other than Cody and his brothers. Whether it is by their own choice or the Republic's, the marshal commander isn't sure, but he's glad to know he won't be leaving them defenseless.

He has been on planets similar to Kiros before, practically unaltered by the people who inhabit them, although it is rare for him to have the downtime to explore his surroundings. He usually does so only to gain intel or perform recon. It's typically a strategic necessity alone. But before and after training, which finishes in the early evening, Cody finds he is free to fill his time however he chooses.

The thing is, he's never been granted this freedom before, and if he isn't careful, he might find himself standing in one spot for hours just contemplating his next move. The vacant holes in his schedule could be debilitating, but he quickly fills his time with busy work and solo missions of little actual importance.

Before any of his brothers, he rises with the star on the eastern horizon, much before their designated hours thanks to the planet's axial tilt. He's grateful to have a tent to himself when, by the second week, he doesn't stop waking in a cold sweat, the tendrils of his nightmare lingering in his mind. The ghostly sensation of some insect crawling over his skin cannot be erased from his memory.

He doesn't attempt to go back to sleep like he had done the first several nights. Why suffer with the silence and his rampant mind when there was plenty to distract him outside?

He rises from his cot and glances at the reflection of his face in the visor of his helmet as he passes it; he won't go without it, but first, caf. He taps the button on the dispenser settled atop a crate, the smell of the brewing beans making him instantly more alert.

On this particular day, he plans to trek across the river surrounding the Togruta settlement to explore the bank and nearby plains; he wants to be sure no Separatist weaponry or droids have been left behind. At least that's the make-believe errand he's assigned himself since he doesn't operate well without one.

Once his tin cup is empty, he sets it upside down to drain like he does each morning whether on Coruscant, The Negotiator, or even Kiros, apparently. He slips his bucket on, the world muffling as the last of his senses are stripped away, then steps into the foggy morning air. Training would not take place since the colonists have decided to spend the day mourning those whose lives were stolen from the galaxy not so long ago. The Jedi and the Clones agreed it was the least they could do to give them space to grieve, though the latter's opinion didn't much matter to the Republic when deciding how its property would be utilized. Fortunately, Obi-Wan's position in the Council had swayed the Chancellor's the Senate's decision to give them all a day of rest.

The clouds hang low as Cody moves through the camp, his brothers sleeping bodies all around him. It is undeniable that he feels responsible for them and assumes the role of their protector with no hesitation, but it also feels nice to know they are all safe and that his wandering off for a few hours at most would do no damage. He deserves it, though it is difficult to remember that fact at times.

Snoring and the creaky shifting of weight begin to ebb into the ambient sounds of the planet granting them fleeting sanctum from the war. Cody is thankful - if not for himself, then for his brothers and their jetii. They deserve a moment of relative peace.

As he follows the dirt path that leads outside the perimeter of the colony, he notices the birds of the planet are perched in the trees above his head, their sleepy cooing not yet turned to morning chirps. He appreciates the colors of their feathers, the purples and blues of which he had no knowledge to draw from to make a fair comparison. He allows himself to lean into the small smile blossoming over his face as he continues to walk on, the moat-like river's babbling becoming louder with each step.

When he pushes through a final stretch of overgrown grass and comes to the water's edge, he surveys his surroundings like any good soldier. The river flows quickly, splashing the banks and wetting the top of his boot, but he knows it is not strong enough to keep him from crossing. He ensures his blaster is safely secured to his person before stepping into the current.

He can feel the water pushing against the plastoid as he takes slow, steady steps, and it flows freely into his armor once the gaps above his calves and thighs are below the waterline. Despite the shocking cold, Cody grits his teeth and trudges through the lapping stream until his knees hit the opposite bank. He turns around and rests awkwardly on his backplate until most of the water has vacated his suit. He stares at the sky, the dark greens and grays beginning to bleed into a sobering yellow. He stands with the rallying of the sun.

Once firmly on his feet, he begins to search the ground for any mines or other traps possibly placed by Separatists and never removed or detonated. He goes on for a few meters, spotting nothing, which he'd expected. Dooku had taken what he came for and left. This is simply Cody's excuse to wander.

He comes to the cliff's edge, and he feels beckoned closer until he can crane his neck to see directly below. The land is ripe and green. He muses about how his stomach remains unflinching despite the drop he could take at any moment, while an arachnid or any of its peers would send chills down his spine. He stares out over the precipice longer than he'd allow if he were on a mission with his brothers. But now, as Kiros' sun lends its warmth to the dirt and animals, he removes his helmet and takes a deep breath in, savoring the crisp air as it enters his lungs unfiltered.

It's then, as his peripheral vision is filled in, that he sees a distant hunched silhouette to his right, veiled by high-growing flora and the fading morning mist. The brown cloak, down on the figure's shoulders and hanging like a crescent down its back, reveals a muss of red hair. Cody's heart leaps into his throat, wanting to call out the Jedi's name instinctively. He fights the urge and instead makes his way quietly toward where the man sits, settled on a rock beneath a shady tree with his legs crossed. He doesn't intend to surprise him – assumes it to be impossible. He is instinctively pulled toward his Jedi's presence and wishes to be nearer, by some logic he doesn't quite understand. Perhaps it's because he is one of the only people to treat his brothers and himself with any consideration.

Perhaps it has something to do with the Force. He doesn't question it, opting to blindly follow orders instead.

He leans against the trunk of the tree, the twisted bark something Cody has never seen before. But the sight he truly cares about has nothing to do with the vegetation. And the sight below the cliffs has long been forgotten.

He stares unashamedly at Obi-Wan, remembering other times he has seen the man in the same position. In most instances, Cody had walked into the general's quarters to find him on the floor, unmoving and absolutely focused. On what, he never knew, nor did he venture to ask. His facial muscles always seem relaxed when he is in this state, and the beauty of it is something Cody has never craved to disturb. Each time, he retreats to the bed or the kitchen chair as he gives the Jedi space to rouse on his own, sometimes dozing off to sleep as he waits, but prepared to work when his name is spoken in that familiar soothing timbre.

Standing here now, he takes shallow breaths, almost afraid he will give his presence away if he inhales too greedily. He feels like he's watching something private while still struggling to find the strength to look away. He wonders if Obi-Wan can feel his eyes on him, has since the first time he caught him like this. Something in Cody knows it's useless to ask, just something his ego brings up to numb the guilt of partaking in such intimate acts as watching his Jedi for a summation of hours. To convince the shame to recede, he tells himself that the purpose of his creation had been to keep an eye on the man, to protect him; for he is a key element to the Republic's agenda.

He feels a hot blade of frustration slice through him at the realization that the man leaving the camp had not been on his radar. Especially at such hours, when no one was awake to accompany him. Perhaps the nightmare hadn't been such a nuisance since it had led him to discover Obi-Wan.

A shift in movement between them catches Cody's eye, and he forces himself to look down to see the abdomen of a plump bee sticking out from the center of one of the horn-shaped flowers scattered about the meadow. Its striped orange and black coloring is like a bright ember against the bruise-hued flowers it swims in. The commander's heart rate spikes helplessly, and he freezes like he has since Geonosis.

"Breathe, dear," Obi-Wan's voice, as Cody has come accustomed to, pulls him back to the world around him and out of his mind. His eyes remain on the pollinator as it dances from flower to flower, her sistren nowhere to be seen. At least it's not an entire swarm. The voice of his Jedi, ever calm and guiding, fills Cody with a warmth no sun could compete with. Despite the wretched bug before him, he tears his attention away from where it rests to find those blue eyes piercing into him as if they were made from the same power source as the lightsaber stowed at his hip, not mere mortal cells. He sighs in relief at the sensation that washes over him.

"Come, sit with me." It isn't said in the tone he chooses on the battlefield, but Cody knows an order when he hears one. He maneuvers around the bug and its feast, not wanting to disturb it and get a stinger in his throat or temple. The thought of it dying afterward terrifies him more. The bee drifts closer to Obi-Wan, who watches Cody sit on the stone before him, ignoring the buzzing creature beside him. They are across from one another, but the Jedi is settled above him like a prince among his people, a lecturer with his students. Cody feels a surge of submission, something he is not used to. He knows Obi-Wan sees him as a worthy partner in the combat zone, but he'd have to admit how difficult it is not to feel like a shiny all over again under the other man's gaze. He glances down to study a patch of moss that has grown attached to the boulder supporting his weight.

"See, you've nearly forgotten her already," he smiles and waves his right hand toward the bee, bumbling about in the flowers. "She wants nothing from us, and neither we from her." Cody likes being grouped in with Obi-Wan. "She gets her meal, and we're able to meditate. Harmoniously." The Jedi looks around the space as if there is something Cody isn't seeing.

"Meditate, General?" The word has been used by the jetiise throughout his time around them, but it never held much meaning to Cody. "Is that what you were doing?" His mind returns to the image of Obi-Wan with that tranquil expression.

"Indeed. It's pertinent that we Jedi take the time to clear our minds and refocus. Of course, it's not just us who can practice. Anyone can benefit from quietening the mind..." He trails off like he's thinking of someone else who could use such a practice, and Cody detests the brief but unmistakable burn of jealousy he feels at not being at the forefront.

"Would you ever want to try?" It's what he'd hoped to hear, and now that it's on the table, he's quick to help himself.

Cody nods stiffly, cautious but eager not to disappoint – to be better than whoever had just been on his Jedi's mind. Ideally, traitorously, he'd like to be the only thing on the man's mind. He forces his eyes to stay steady on Obi-Wan. He focuses on the sepia speckles that adorn the jetii's cheeks and nose bridge, noticeably darkened due to the prolonged terrestrial stay. Cody blinks slowly, burning the sight into memory for when they'd return to space and the freckles would go pallid again.

"It's nothing too complex," Obi-Wan begins, his tone becoming that of a wise monk. "Start by closing your eyes." Cody appreciates the air of gentleness and straightens his back instinctively at the words of direction, eyelids clumsily falling shut, the muscles refusing to relax without a fight. Without sight, he can't help the consternation that rises to his ribcage; he only ever closes them to rest to fight the next day. He wouldn't be Marshal Commander of the Galactic Army of the Republic if that weren't the case. And Obi-Wan's recommendation for him to be in the position was enough proof for Cody.

"Perfect."

The word hangs around them for some time, and Cody's mind performs an instant reboot trying to process it. No one's ever used that word concerning him or anything he's done. He knows the Jedi - his Jedi in particular - have a way with words, and he tries to dismiss it as null and void, a mind trick to get Cody to continue complying with this so-called meditation. He inhales, a shaky effort that nearly fails.

"Keep breathing, Cody." He follows orders and exhales before taking another breath in. He tries not to wonder whether Obi-Wan's eyes are also shut, or if he is vigilantly watching his commander do as he says. Then, "Focus on the feeling of your lungs expanding and contracting without effort."

He has never attempted to zero in on something as infinitesimal as his breathing. Even when his helmet's on, the amplified sound of his new ventilation system is consistently overshadowed by what he sees through his visor.

But the trust he holds for Obi-Wan overrides all Kaminoan programming, at least momentarily, and Cody does as he's asked. He breathes in deep to the point his lungs ache beneath his muscles and bones, the dull sort of pain that reminds him he's alive, organic.

A breeze washes over the field, causing the tree's leaves to rustle like an ancient lullaby. The clone exhales as the wind tousles the short-cropped curls ornamenting his head, an unfamiliar but welcome sensation. "Feel what is here and now. The rock holding you up, the wind on your skin." Cody isn't sure, having no visual cues to confirm his suspicion, but he thinks he hears a smile in the general's words.

The thought flees as he mentally reaches out and focuses on the stone's coolness; his perfect posture falters helplessly as his mind unwinds. There's nothing but right here, in this moment with Obi-Wan, who echos this sentiment when he speaks. "There's nothing here for you to fret over, nothing to fix or fear."

Cody's eyebrows twitch as he digests what has been said. Obi-Wan doesn't rush into another teaching point and lets the man sit with the blade of his words plunged into his chest. Cody doesn't know what it means not to scan for tasks that need completing or enemies that require defeating. He feels a tightness in his chest that could rival the grip of a Sarlacc, and an unexpected wetness burns at his lashes.

He isn't sure what the tears mean, and the confusion only draws out a few more. He refuses to open his eyes, remembering the first instruction he'd been given: breathe. He parts his lips, and a breath stumbles through his airway.

As he breathes out softly, he's brought back to the moment and away from the tempest of emotions swirling within. The bee's buzzing has come to a respite, softly emanating what Cody imagines is contentment. He tenses slightly but once again goes back to what Obi-Wan was putting so much effort into teaching him.

He remembers the rock, the breeze, the Jedi before him. The bee is nearly forgotten. His shoulders sag without thinking, the scar on his face shiny with rebirth. He believes he can smell the undertones of the flora, sweet and subtle.

"You're safe. Let the things you notice pass." The discipline finally begins to ease. Obi-Wan doesn't have the same expectations the Kaminoans do, not in this time and place. "You are the only constant, Cody." The tone slips into something personal, so the marshal commander's imagination convinces him, and it compels his heart to clench. He feels it now, an anchor tethering him to this moment - an undeniable focus on the serenity of the man commanding him.

Time passes unnoticed as Cody loses himself in the exercise, a newfound clarity falling over him. The war is distant from this sliver of the galaxy, forgotten and nonexistent; it's just Cody and Obi-Wan. Not even the bee had made it over the threshold with them. He focuses for so long and hard that at some point he realizes he's aware of the Jedi's breathing pattern - the rise and fall as predictable as any moon's. He envisions their breaths being connected, flowing in through one set of lungs as quickly as it exits the other pair, a balance unspoken and natural.

Selfishly, Cody wishes he could remain in this state for the rest of time - or at least until the primary sun Kiros orbits stops burning and folds into a black hole. Logically, externally, he knows his time here is limited - his brothers, the Togruta, and millions more just like them all depended on Cody for something. They're all alright, he thinks, probably still sleeping soundly, not far away. But Cody is still new to releasing control over anything let alone everything.

"How do you know when it's time to stop?" His voice is lower than he intends, nearly breaking like back in his days as an inexperienced cadet. The only real differences now are that scar carved into the side of his face and countless fallen brothers. Hidden deep below his guts and armor is that same irrational, untrained boy.

"You can stop whenever you feel overwhelmed," Obi-Wan states gently, judgment nowhere to be found. "Open your eyes when you need to," he suggests, and Cody does so immediately. He thought it would be like waking from a rare dream and all the peace he'd started to feel would disappear into nothing. He is pleasantly surprised it's not that way at all. He feels lighter than he has in far too long; his mind flashes helplessly back to Geonosis before a deep breath comes in to tame the memory.

He offers a smile of gratitude to his general, who he now notices has a hand half-extended toward the commander's armored one. "Sir?" Had Cody cut his chances of receiving a touch by opening his eyes so quickly?

"I apologize," the jetii practically spits out the phrase, his tone making it clear how honest it is. His hand retracts to rest on his knee like when Cody first joined him. He swears he sees a rose color creep up the man's neck and cheeks as his eyes engage in a careful dance of avoidance.

No. Cody doesn't want to be avoided; he doesn't want to stumble around alone and afraid forever. He knows Obi-Wan won't try it again now that the moment has "passed." But life isn't a neatly edited holo-vid or a novel; it's a messy, complicated, painful battle at times. It requires bravery to get through - stubbornness and determination. Whatever word you choose, Cody doesn't care at this exact moment.

He breathes in and physically reaches out, bursting through the seams of everything he's ever been taught. His hand tenderly rests on the one Obi-Wan had pulled away, the latter's bare knuckles caressing the underside of Cody's gloved palm. It's the most intimate touch they've ever shared, and Cody doesn't require that it ever happen again. He feels blessed that the other man hasn't ordered him to fall back, and he isn't ready to push for more.

Instead of paying mind to the apology Obi-Wan had offered, Cody gives thanks to the man. "You have no idea how much you've done for me." He pauses, trying to find the words. He was specifically designed for war - for death and destruction. He could recite the BlasTech Industries leaflet that had been provided with his DC-15A blaster rifle instantly if someone ordered it because that made him useful. Knowing how to take down hundreds of droids in one fell swoop, how to plan and execute strategies that have earned the Republic victory after victory: these are tasks he was designed to perform well. Emotions, on the other hand, are much more gruesome.

He wants to tell Obi-Wan about the nightmares plaguing him each night or go even further and describe how he hasn't been able to truly relax since the burning red sands of Geonosis bound him to fear. He wants to tell Obi-Wan that he is the one who makes all of it more bearable. "I feel lighter," is where he settles. He nods as he says it, recognizing the truth in the statement.

An unsteady breath escapes him. His eyes are locked onto his Jedi, knowing that much of what Obi-Wan wants to say at any given time can be read through his eyes and actions. The man's face has softened again, eyebrows cocking incrementally with interest, beard twitching from the smile it works to conceal.

"Well, we could make a habit of it - together. It's helped me many times, and Anakin too, if you'll believe it. I know it's daunting when it's new, but you did so well, Cody." The clone easily follows the string of words, filled equally with attempted diversion and outright praise. He feels his flesh get warmer. His blacks are suddenly suffocating.

"I think that would be helpful," he says as he unclenches his jaw, almost afraid to let the full extent of his enthusiasm be known. He glances back down to where their hands meet. Though it may never reoccur - or perhaps for that exact reason - Cody begins to rub a small oval into the thenar muscles in his Jedi's hand. He silently hopes his general will feel the difference the next time he wields his lightsaber. He expects nothing in return; all he's received from the man has been more than enough.

ཐི༏ཋྀ󠀮

Something feels wrong.

Cody stands under the cover of a plant he's never seen before this campaign. It towers like a spindle into the sky, the underside incandescing bright purple. There are hundreds more like it all around him, like a forest of tentacles or insectoid legs emerging from the dirt to trap him there like prey. Umbara is a planet of utter darkness other than the few bioluminescent lifeforms that have evolved with it; Cody is certainly not one of them. Luckily, the night vision built into his helmet is getting him through.

He grits his teeth and tilts his head to glance at Obi-Wan, a few meters to his right in a similar anticipatory stance. His lightsaber is disengaged to minimize foreign lighting that would give their position away. He worries about how limited the jetii's vision might be, knows his general is probably rather unperturbed by the matter. He trusts Cody not to leave him behind in the darkness, just as he would if their situations were reversed.

The rest of the men are closer to the perimeter of the capital city, ensuring no straggling Umbaran soldiers are lying in wait before they begin their assault. The general and commander follow not far behind to cover their tail. Although nothing stands out to him as he listens to his surroundings, Cody can't help the unease that rises in his chest. A deep breath enters his lungs through his ventilator, grounding himself to the present. Focus.

Obi-Wan nods in silence in the direction the rest of their men have headed, signaling that they should keep moving. Cody forces himself to let go of the last of his concerns for Waxer and his platoon; he must trust that they will see each other again on the other side of this long and treacherous battle. Instead, he brings his attention back to where the Jedi's thermal signature had just been through his visor, now another patch of darkness. His heart drops into his stomach, and a splinter of fear pricks his mind at the loss of the man.

"General?" He asks through his commlink before slowly crawling forward through the brush. The sounds of artillery fire descend upon the landscape as his men engage the enemy somewhere further north, distant but near enough Cody feels stuck.

Before he can rationally decide what to do next, an ear-splitting scream rattles through his comm and pierces deep through his armor and into his bones. He knows exactly what it is before he sees it, and the grunt of his jetii that follows right after forces Cody's legs to sprint forward to find where the man had gone. His boots sink into the gray-tinted dirt without thinking, the previous worries about all the vines and Vixus now residing in favor of being brought back to Obi-Wan, who he can hear panting in exhaustion.

Just then, he breaks into a small clearing, the shadows seeming to garner an unfathomable amount of mass. The flora here is impossible to make out, seeming like monsters a child would imagine in the darkness of their closet. The only light comes from the beast pinning his jetii to the ground. The banshee is huge, nearly covering Obi-Wan's entire body with its own. Its biological lighting is green in a way Cody despises, nothing like the lightsabers he's seen some other Jedi carry. It makes him think about the lower levels of Coruscant or a radioactive spill tainting the molecular basis of everything it touches.

Its wings are splayed out around it as if attempting to lift the general's body, but something has stopped it in its tracks. It makes snarling rabid sounds as its mandibles extend and try to shred the flesh of Kenobi's face. Cody freezes as he takes in the scene before him, and he catches sight of the general's face contorting with effort. His hair is a mess around him, sweat beading on his brow. It's now that he realizes the Jedi must be calling on the Living Force to keep the creature at bay.

Even in a moment like this, where his life is being threatened so short of notice, he is able to focus enough not to let his fear overtake him, and Cody will never stop admiring it. During the beginning of the war, he had dismissed the man as reckless, and he has kicked himself for it many times since. Now, though, he tries to take a page from the Jedi's book.

He reaches for his blaster rifle, knowing he can't leave Obi-Wan to fight the thing alone any longer. But his hand doesn't land on the metal of his weapon. It continues to swing through the empty air until returning at his hip. He nearly cries out when he feels it isn't at his side. How had it fallen and he not notice? Kriff, perhaps Nala Se should recall and retire him after all. He panics, unsure how to get the banshee to leave his Jedi besides possibly offering himself as bait.

He can hear Obi-Wan's voice, all those months ago now on Kiros, "Breathe, dear."

He isn't sure if it's just a memory surfacing organically in his time of need, or if it's the jetii influencing his mind, but he finds that he doesn't care either way. He does as the Jedi always reminds him and breathes.

There is a metallic hint to the air that enters his lungs and swirls about - different, but nothing he can't get used to if that's what's needed. There is nothing but him in this brief moment, and he is reminded by the Force that he has made it through worse than a banshee and a few shadows. Obi-Wan has survived worse, and with Cody's help, he'll survive this too.

He opens his eyes, not noticing that they'd fallen shut; he remembers a time when he'd stare at a caterpillar or another similar bug for hours when he was particularly on edge and too mortified with himself to ask someone else to handle it. He inhales through his nose; the past does not exist, only now.

He assesses his options, and wonders if he should comm for backup; he knows he won't distract his men for anything. He considers jumping on the creature's back, but he despises the idea of touching it or being carried away to be mauled and eaten alive. Then he sees it, the sheen of the banshee's light reflecting off that cool metal he's had in his hand many times thanks to his general's constant running head-on into the next problem needing to be solved. Cody has always made sure to retrieve and return it to its brandisher.

Now, he bends to wrap his hand around the saber, engaging the crystal without a second thought as he straightens his spine.

He feels a power surge through his body that not even his blaster had ever made him feel. The blue light emanates from the blade like a celestial spirit in his hands, and it causes all the shadows that had surrounded them to recede. The beast trapping Obi-Wan screeches as if its putrid heart has somehow been filled with terror for the first time. Cody chokes on empathy, imagining the beast sitting with that feeling he knows intimately well.

He steps forward, swinging the saber out in front of him, a defensive pose that he hopes will send the banshee running takes over his muscles instinctively. He's never wielded a lightsaber or any other longsword, but he's watched Obi-Wan in battle enough times to be able to imitate some of his confidence.

When the creature remains on top of the general, claws on either side of his head, Cody knows he won't be able to spare its life. He sways the sword, the sounds of it cutting the air almost as comforting as the voice of his Jedi, though not quite as sweet. He swears he feels a swell of pride surround him, choosing not to dwell on how it hadn't come from within. He raises the blade with both hands gripping the hilt, its light dancing across his features as he swings down hard and fast.

Another scream enters his ears, one of pain and regret and death. Cody can't distinguish whether the sound is from the insect or himself. The banshee's leg is sliced clean in half at the joint. Blood and gristle are cauterized by the heat of the blade - even the chosen weapon of the jetiise offers some mercy. The creature wails in presumed agony, losing its balance and falling to the side like a spider-roach sprayed with pesticides. It thrashes and its wings shake, the ordeal more than Cody's senses can handle.

He forces himself to move around it and pull his Jedi out of its reach, the lightsaber having been disengaged but still in his palm. When they're a safe distance away from the bug, Cody finally looks into his general's face. His hair is wet with sweat close to his scalp, utterly exhausted from the Force work. The commander wants nothing more than to tear his helm away from his face and nuzzle into the jetii's temple. He wants to press his lips there and sob a disorderly, chest-racking sob.

Soldiers don't do such things, though, so he settles to press a thumb into the other man's beard. It's a light touch, almost ghostly, and he wishes they were back on Kiros more than ever before.

The Jedi's eyes flicker to his saber, still resting in Cody's right hand. He notices, sitting up and holding it out to the man it belongs to. He feels a jolt of pride as he looks at it, eyes adjusting to the darkness now that the fight has concluded. But it's mixed in with a sense that he'd done something very wrong, like taking a brother's bucket and wearing it as his own.

"Thank you, Cody," his Jedi speaks quietly, his fingers latching around the marshal commander's wrist instead of the lightsaber. Cody swallows at the sensation, aware they should keep moving despite what they've just endured. He nods silently before remembering Obi-Wan's lack of sight.

"Of course," it doesn't exactly translate all of the emotions in his heart, but it does enough for now. At least he thinks so until Kenobi starts to offer him praise after praise.

"This is more than a weapon, Cody," his hand twists to tighten their grips around the helve simultaneously, "and not everyone who wields one knows when to quell their power. You're disciplined in ways the Kaminoans can't comprehend." His tone is admiring, proud. The touch, the words - Cody feels like he'll melt into the dirt below if the Jedi gives him anymore. He can hear and feel his heart pounding against his sternum like a prisoner in Citadel Station, desperate for escape.

He nods and moves his other hand to rest on top of where the two men meet at the lightsaber; it's the thanks he can't vocalize. Obi-Wan's expression is steady whereas Cody's feels unsure and stiff, and he appreciates how understood the jetii always makes him feel. No matter the layers of darkness, armor, and social conditioning (or lack thereof), he appreciates how Obi-Wan always looks at him like a person. He never looks at him like the test-tube experiment gone wrong he often feels like.

"Now, how about we join our men?" General Kenobi asks, that resilient smile creeping over his lips. "They'll be needing our expertise soon, I'm sure." It's an attempt to bring Cody's mood up, and the clone can't help the curt chuckle at the Jedi's cockiness that rears its head more than is technically appropriate for someone so dedicated to the Order. Of course, none of the clones complain; they've learned many of their favorite witticisms from the jetii, and Cody finds it endearing to hear his brothers try to replicate the general's delivery.

He stands first, then pulls Obi-Wan up with little effort since their hands are conveniently clasped together over the lightsaber, which subsequently goes back to its owner.

Both standing, Cody is overwhelmed with relief that he'd been able to do what had been needed to keep the other man alive. He almost goes down the terrible path in his mind that would make him wonder about all the things that could have gone wrong. He manages to catch himself before spiraling out of control, shaking his head and taking a deep breath to clear his thoughts.

As they slip back into the Umbaran flora, Cody follows his general's lead, his gaze firm on the nape of the other man's neck.

𓇙

The suns hang high in the sky, beating down on Cody with relentless heat. He welcomes the burn as he studies the stark shadow of his hand against the eroded stone of Obi-Wan's abode, the darkness of his fingers caked with an off-white plaster. His breathing is coming and going in a steady pattern, only because he has carefully labored it to be that way, helping to keep his mind focused on patching the cracks in the wall.

From the corner of his eye, he sees something dark scuttle a path through the harsh sand. He looks down to find a scorpion rushing by his boot, glinting like a blood-drenched jewel. He narrows his eyes against the particles floating in the wind, watches as the arthropod finds sanctuary in the crevice of a nearby boulder.

He remembers the voice of his general, all the lessons he'd been given. He's ached for that guidance for far too long, and it makes his chest tighten at the memories he's been struggling to keep oppressed since the last time they were face-to-face. Utapau. Order 66. His skull still aches in the spot where it'd been sawn open to remove his implant, his curls starting to grow back to conceal the new scar. He's not used to the silence of his own thoughts without those four haunting words underlying them. Good soldiers follow orders.

A deep breath fills his lungs; his attention is brought back to the task at hand. He fills another fissure in the wall with plaster, smoothing it with the pads of his fingers - he makes sure to be diligent with his work, having no other way to make himself useful in this place. Though things have undeniably changed, Cody can't help the yearning for their bond to return despite having no way to earn it back. He and Obi-Wan had once trusted each other blindly. Yet he had given his brothers the go-ahead to shoot him down; the rather benign nightmares about insects have been replaced with the memory of that day, and Cody knows it's deserved. He is the one who had shattered things while knowing their already-delicate nature.

He risks a glance to his right, finding Obi-Wan kneeling in the nearby shade provided by a makeshift awning, eyes closed, and muscles relaxed. He's meditating. Of course, he is. It's not quite the same as before the fall of the Order, but then again nothing is. His beard is full and a tad scraggly, not having access to the razors, mirrors, and gels he used to take advantage of, and his hair is longer than Cody's ever seen it. He swallows hard as the guilt washes over him like a wave, wondering uselessly if any of this would exist if it weren't for his weakness. He returns to his assignment on the wall, focusing on each breath entering and exiting his lungs.

During the night, the two sit in the confined kitchen of the desert home. A pot of soup simmers over a fire; it isn't a lot, but it's flavorful and comforting compared to the rations Cody's eaten practically his entire life. Their dishes rest on the table as the men sit across from each other, the winds outside audible from where they reside.

"What did I tell you?" The Jedi smiles as he listens to the sound of active weathering, bringing Cody's attention away from the grain in the wood of his spoon. He'd been focusing on trying to stay quiet so as not to disturb the nightly routine of the other man, so it takes him a second to catch up to the conversation.

"Oh," he says, his mouth falling open before closing again. "The sandstorms. Is it a nightly thing this time of year?"

"Most nights, sadly. It's a pain if the walls aren't tended to properly," he sips his soup - choosing to forgo the spoon - which is no longer scalding from the fire. Cody remembers the man's predilection for food on the colder side, and it comforts him to see that hasn't changed. "I've not had the energy recently." The jetii looks down into his bowl, an almost bashful look on his face. Cody recognizes a roundness to the man that hadn't been there during the war, a rosiness to his cheeks when he came home from the market with new fruit for Cody to try that morning. The clone has only been here for a month at most, and Cody can't deny the ease with which Obi-Wan seems to be settling into his new life. Something he can't yet say for himself.

Of course, there had been much time in between, which Cody had not been here for. He doesn't know exactly what Obi-Wan is going through or how he's dealing with it, but he's pleased to hear him laughing more than he ever did during the war. His brow furrows because he remembers thinking neither of them would be able to laugh again after everything that happened.

"Thank you for taking care of it." It's said in such a measured tone that Cody can't pretend to mishear or misinterpret it.

He jerks his chin down toward the table, "Of course, General." As soon as it slips off his tongue, he wants to throw himself into the fire their dinner is cooked on and keeps their bodies warm at night. He expects a scolding - the Empire likes dealing those out much more swiftly on the clones than the Jedi had - but one does not come.

"I don't know how many times I have to remind you to call me Ben before it sticks." A toothy grin lets Cody know he's not in too much trouble, but he digs his nails into his palm as a reminder to himself not to make the mistake again.

"It's my pleasure... to do what I can, Ben." He looks up and meets the man's eyes, that same crystal-like blue he's always known. "I want to make up for what I've done."

The jetii's eyes soften at his words, seeming to know what he means despite the lack of clarity. Cody's heart tightens as the man stands abruptly, his sand-colored robes sweeping the floor. He takes the few short steps to close the distance between them, and he's looking directly into his old commander's face. His hand comes up and the tip of his thumb traces the curve of the clone's scar from where it starts on his forehead and ends at the apple of his cheek. "Cody, none of that was in your control. You must realize that before this guilt consumes you." Obi-Wan bends so that his forehead comes to rest on Cody's, their eyes still locked until the Jedi's slip shut.

The clone can feel his hands beginning to tremble and his throat constricting. He makes fists in an attempt to calm his nerves, but it makes no difference when a tear tickles his lashes and spills over the edge.

"You've come so far," his jetii whispers, their breaths mingling in the dark. And that's all that Cody's battered mind can handle; a thunderous sound rumbles through him, a sob that's waited years to be freed. Tear after hot, burning tear rolls down the man's face, his hands still fisting into nothing at his sides. Obi-Wan covers his knuckles with his palms, reminding him that he's physically not alone. "None of this is because of you. You only did what you believed was right. I have never blamed you for anything that's happened, Cody."

The words cause a heavy weight to lift off his chest, just slightly. He's carried this shame with him for so long, it's hard to convince himself to fully forget all the pain. It'll take time, which seems alright since they have so much of it now. He'll have to meditate more on how things tend to happen for a reason, perhaps with Obi-Wan as his teacher if he'd have him. He nods against the other man, their foreheads still touching, and he breathes in through his nose as the sobs begin to calm.

No sand or scorpions would be bothering them tonight, thanks to Cody. If he has any say in it, and he does, he'll make sure to patch the walls each day so that Obi-Wan sleeps soundly each night until his rapid aging catches up with him and steals his final breath.

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minisugakoobies · 8 months ago

Text

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted.

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem.

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you.

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around.

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around.

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous?

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye.

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago.

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him.

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late.

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs.

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back.

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that.

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You: It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me?

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort.

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little.

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is.

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one.

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance.

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response.

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing.

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man.

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible.

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not?

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now.

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide.

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge.

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?”

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back.

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands.

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu.

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon.

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it?

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses.

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.”

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close.

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?”

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment.

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now.

“I want what you promised me.”

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.”

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.”

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him.

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can.

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.”

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips.

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face.

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel.

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.”

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want.

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation.

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now.

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?”

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat.

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes.

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.”

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you.

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck.

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly.

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo.

“‘Gyu, please.”

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around.

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?”

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.”

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you.

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up.

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements.

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!”

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.”

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids.

“It’ll be something like this.”

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.”

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over.

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!”

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you.

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again.

“Kiss me.”

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.”

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip.

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.”

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands.

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.”

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture?

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.”

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?”

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.”

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?”

“I might have some ideas.”

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

#seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #mingyu #mingyu smut #svt smut #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #kim mingyu #fic: cross my heart

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ladywuvly · 3 months ago

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hugh jackman +au. + characters rec list!

masterlist. socials. recs.

head canons |

Sleeping next to Logan means that you never have to worry about feeling cold again by @whispersfromaeons Lumberjack!Logan by @groovyangelkisses - Dinner on a cozy fall night. Lumberjack!Logan by @bpmiranda - Logan who is all too happy to deliver lumber in your part of town even though it is very much out of his way. Oldman!Logan Sitting in his lap by @nymphoniah Oldman!Logan and his obsession with the cute diner girl by @thinkinonsense Dogtags by @silverskyeline - You’re wearing logos dogtags as you ride him. Jailbait by @dollverine - logan and his controversially young girlfriend. I was made for loving you by @hanasnx - “I’m gonna take care of you.” Those six words—six—have defined your relationship with your husband, Logan howlett. Raw by @eloquentlytired Needed little thing by @nymphoniah - Logan is a munch, and he is absolutely shameless about it. Smoking out the window by @nymphoniah My little princess by @bratscave Belt buckle by @gothgoblinbabe

fics & imagines |

This is ours by @d1stalker - It's your first time back at your grandparents' farm in years, and while many things are the same, one thing is not: they've hired a new farmhand. moodboard!by@divinesols Moanin’ and groaning’ by @shellshocklove - Working for your father's timber business isn't what you saw yourself doing, but when the wolverine comes looking for work it's suddenly not so bad, especially when he can teach you a thing or two. Ain't gon' ever deserve you by @awxcoffeexno - Logan has a nightmare and hurts you by accident - or - the one where you worship his claws the way they deserve. Guilty as sin by @logansbaby - The entire time you’ve known logan howlett, you’ve tried to keep your longings locked. then, one night, all that effort goes to waste when you’re confronted about your feelings. Slippin’ and slidin’ all over you by @sceletaflores - Logan forgot to fix the ac. pretty much anything from their masterlist! I can fix him and fuck him by @filmstarved - Nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again. Fortnight by @pretty-little-mind33 - Your dad sends Logan over to help you build some furniture in your new apartment, unaware you'll end up with Logan's head in between your thighs. Would you be so kind in lending a hand? by @malavera - That friendly neighbor of yours is helping you with your wash day. Your perfume is holding me ransom by @retrosabers - The scent of you is driving Logan crazy. Unexpected tendencies by @figsnpassionfruits - Basically just bathroom sex w/Logan. Stain ‘em baby baby by @darnell-la - Logan had just became apart of the x men. he’s always been known to flirt with whoever he could, but when you came around, he realized she was the only one he wanted to smell like. Claws and marks by @mrsimpurity - Getting logan’s name tattooed on you earns you a very unexpected reaction. A peaceful repose by @d1stalker - After some time away on a mission, Logan comes home, and all he wants to do is be around you. Time after time by @hyper-fixates - 4 times you end up in Logan’s bed, and the 1 time he does something about it. Knuckle velvet by @ohcaptains - Logan walks you home, then lets himself in. Give me all of the ultraviolence by @joelsgoldrush - It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. In which you can’t help but suck Logan off.

series/multi part |

Don't be late by @bucketslutz - You've spent your entire academic career trying to hide who you really are. First day of grad school you meet someone that sparks something deep inside you. Your history professor, Logan, makes you feel things you've never felt from someone before. moodboard! Broken promises by @not-neverland06 - Bodyguard Logan falls in love with congressman's daughter. Cross that line by @healmydesires - For a long time, you were content hiding your feelings, but lately, the longing for someone you can’t have has become unbearable. Despite knowing he could never be yours, you still cherished the sweet ache in your heart whenever he smiled or gave you a warm, platonic hug. Then, one day, everything changed. First Drink by @eyesxxyou - You were everything Logan shouldn't want, young, religious, innocent, you were sweet to everyone, and you've never been touched.

Oldman!Logan howlett

Be my baby by @cavillscurls - Logan fucks you in your sundress. Cant get started by @dollfacefantasy - Logan can't get it up one night and is humiliated. but that just means he'll have to prove he can still satisfy you. Chauffeur by @nanivinsmoke - Mean old logan can’t help but to push the best thing away in his life. and you can’t help but to let go of your worst. Like the first time by @eufezco - It has been a long time since you and logan had sex. you should show him that despite everything he hated about himself, you still craved him. Look at me by @silverskyeline - Logan can't fuck like he used to, but you don't care. you get on top, gladly taking care of him in return. Never is a broken promise by @joelsgoldrush - You are everything Logan isn’t: sweet, trouble-free, much younger—and, to top it off, Charles' caregiver. The grave of lust by @moonlight-prose - When his body doesn't work as it used to and the weary bones that poison his soul begin to ache, you take the lead in a dance you know well. Sweetness of the damed by @moonlight-prose - When night falls and wine overflows in glasses of crystal, logan finds his home in between your thighs. Road trip stop by @fake-bleach - Taking a small road trip where you’re halfway to where you need to be, and you're bored out of your mind. unluckily for you, your boyfriend won't possibly give into your antics. Quiet drive by @wlwloverwrites - Logan likes quiet drives, but there’s only way that can happen when you’re sitting in the passenger seat. Sweet revenge by @eyesxxyou - After catching your boyfriend cheating, you and his father, Logan, go on a road trip to confront him, though, you don't make it far Oldman!Logan by @inkedells - Logan is sick and tired of you treating him like he's fragile. He'll ignore his relentless pain to show you what it's like to be taken apart, rough and slow, then fast and agonizing. Fix you by @logansbaby - Logan is dying. You both know it, but it doesn’t make it any easier to accept. Room for rent by @hauntedhowlett-writes - Logan finds a new roommate.

disclamer! none of these are my works all credit to the authors! Thank you, to every single one of you, for allowing me to fuck Logan Howlett, in every way imaginable. Y’all deserve your pussies ate from the front and back!

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lqfiles · 9 months ago

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PAY THE PRICE — smau

after getting evicted out of your old place, you're left with no other choice but to look for a cheaper alternative. which is how you end up becoming neighbours with lee haechan, who has a passion for music and disturbing whatever peace and quiet there is.

or in which you found yourself a very nice apartment, the only issue? your neighbour is your friend's somewhat ex-situationship who won't stop playing his guitar at 2 am in the night.

neighbour!haechan x fem!reader

genre ; enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, probably slow burn, humour, neighbours au.

extras ; haechan is kinda an asshole | boy next door + likes everyone but you trope-ish | profanity and death jokes because they’re silly! | probably romantic tension | some mark x reader here and there | renjun and jaemin having their own e2bffs moment | probably inaccurate depiction of how someone would get evicted pls don’t shoot me 😅

notes ; i love haechan i love haechan i love haechan i love haechan i love haechan i love haechan i love haechan i love haechan <333 idk i got nothing better to do now so i’ll just start this because i know i won’t be posting any of the other long fic wips any time soon 😭

PLAYLIST ; She , Tyler The Creator — For The Night , Chloe Bailey — IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU , Bktherula — Surprise , Chloe Bailey — I Wanna Be down , Brandy — Suite Life , FLO — Is It A Crime? , No Guidnce — Round&Round , NCT U .

STATUS ; ongoing and hopefully regular updates.

profiles (1) profiles (2)

intro

1 ) jaehyun’s trophy wife

2 ) free cookies (not really)

3 ) midnight disturbance

4 ) attempted murder?

5 ) THIS IS FAMILY

6 ) haechan’s second identity

7 ) kiss buddies and useless complaints

8 ) critically acclaimed idgaf veteran

9 ) founders keepers..?

10 ) yangyang’s new interest (y/n)

11 ) a late welcome party

12 ) invest in a cage jaemin

13 ) cat fight (REAL)

14 ) the cure to a lack of sleep = cup pong

15 ) who said quiet guys can’t be freaky?

16 ) you got a girlfriend?

17 ) i DO have a girlfriend

18 ) this is life, i love life..

19 ) nah. they fucking.

20 ) let’s play apex?

21 ) whole house mad

22 ) drunken regrets

23 ) he’s got to be fucking with me..

24 ) a sincere apology letter (kinda)

25 ) are we cool or not?

26 ) we’re good (for real)

27 ) a personal guitar lesson

28 ) LIVE TWEETING YNHAE MOMENTS

29 ) a moment of vulnerability

30 ) friendly q&a between friends

31 ) that’s strange.. that’s weird..

32 ) solution to job loss = family guy (???)

33 ) what has jaehyun done for society?

34 ) ynhae bonding activity hours

35 ) an unwanted double date with yangyang

36 ) an overwhelming realisation

37 ) the universe can kill itself

38 ) a “what are we” conversation

39 ) i got that hair too, kinda

40 ) reviewing haechan’s tweet and new issues

41 ) diagnosed with the crush disease

42 ) putting your satisfaction first

43 ) some girl talk with mark.. this diva..

44 ) girls day gone WRONG

45 ) homies before hoemies

46 ) #BringBackGenderNorms2024

47 ) no one but us

48 ) the words of the DEVIL

49 ) remove the fake from life

50 ) y/n and jaemin would’ve loved this

51 ) you’re a queen and he’s just.. there

52 ) we are sooooo fixing this

53 ) spiritual connection attempts

TBA . . .

BONUS:

TBA . . .

TAGLIST is closed

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sanjisleggy · 28 days ago

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welcome to cupid island (sanji x reader) [pt1]

PART 2

a/n: omg so i did not expect the post i made about this idea to pop off so hard ;0; thank you to everyone who commented their interest in this fic! hopefully i managed to tag everyone who asked to be tagged

contents: jealous sanji, some fluff, a tiny bit of angst (a mere taste of what’s to come)

wc. 2.5k

“doesn’t it bother you at all?” Nami asked, tilting her head in the direction of a familiar blond head of hair. “that he’s like that?” Sanji remains unaware of his crewmates’ attention being directed his way, too engaged in conversation with a group of ladies, soaking up all their kind words and light touches. Robin chuckles behind her hand whilst Zoro rolls his eyes, taking another sip of his fifth drink for the night.

“no, not really,” you reply with a soft laugh yourself as you continue to watch your boyfriend wiggle in joy at all the attention he was receiving. “it’s pretty harmless and i know he knows not to take it too far.” Zoro rolls his eyes again.

“you have a lot of faith in the cook, don’t you?” Robin interjects with a warm smile. she’s always been intrigued by the dynamic between the Straw Hats’ chef and botanist. “most people would count what he’s doing as ‘taking it too far’, don’t you think?” she asks and to an onlooker it might sound like a challenge of some sort but you know Robin’s just curious.

“you’re right,” you reply, “both you and Nami.” you reach out to give the navigator sitting beside you a side hug. “i just think we have a special kind of understanding, if that makes sense.”

“whatever floats your boat.” Zoro speaks for the first time since you guys entered the bar. “knowing the shitty cook, i just have a feeling he won’t be so patient if the tables were turned.”

“i’d have to agree.” Nami hums thoughtfully before cracking a smile. “but you’re such a catch, it won’t be long until someone threatens to take his place, huh?” though you feel your face heat up at the compliment, you simply shake your head and laugh, glancing over once more at your beloved.

this time, his eyes catch yours and a wide, goofy grin spreads across his face. Sanji waves, body swaying slightly from the alcohol.

“HI MY SWEET (Y/N)!” he yells with a certain lack of restraint that only comes with being inebriated. before you can react, he wobbles over to your table, ignoring the curious glances and calls from the women he was chatting to before. walking up behind your chair, Sanji slumps over and wraps his arms around your chest, nuzzling his face into your neck. “‘m tired now. let’s go to bed?” he mumbles, continuing to rub his stubbly face against your skin.

after a whole thirty minutes of slowly guiding him back to the Merry and into your shared quarters, you finally manage to make it to bed. you tuck Sanji in before crawling to his side. still barely awake, he hums and pulls you close, tucking your head under his chin and tangling his long legs with yours under the blanket. his hands find their way under the back of your shirt, fingers lightly brushing gentle circles into your skin.

“did you have a fun night?” you ask as you press a soft kiss to his collarbone.

“mmhmm,” he hums. “all the pretty ladies asked me so many questions about our adventures,” Sanji’s words got more muffled by the syllable as he spoke while burying his face in your hair, “but all i could really tell them was about how awesome and sexy you are when you beat up assholes and whatever.”

“oh, really?” you can’t help but continue the conversation even though you can tell how close to falling asleep he is.

“mmhmm…” Sanji takes a comically big whiff of your hair. “time for sleep. goodnight, my love.”

“goodnight, sweet boy.”

ii.

the next morning you dock at a new island that seems fairly peaceful enough for everyone to go about and explore on their own. Luffy, Usopp and Chopper run off to god knows where so the rest of you opt to stick together.

still slightly hungover, Sanji hugs your arm as you stroll down the bustling streets, trailing behind Robin, Nami and Zoro. before you can ask if he’d like to go rest in bed, he suddenly perks up and breaks off from the group to go greet a group of well-dressed women.

actually, now that you think of it–

“doesn’t it seem like everyone is super dressed up here?” you point out, eyes scanning the crowd. all the men and women look well-groomed and don very clean, stylish outfits.

“it’s not just the people,” Nami responds, “the whole town looks decorated for some kind of festival don’t you think?”

“whatever’s going on, there’s far too much pink,” Zoro scoffs halfheartedly.

“it’s Valentine’s Week!” an eavesdropping passerby shares. “we celebrate it here on Cupid’s Island every year. it’s when everyone’s encouraged to woo their romantic interests or propose to their significant others. this year’s special, though.”

“and why’s that?” Robin asks.

“on the last day is when our crown prince Aphr is going to ascend the throne and choose his queen. it’ll be the final thing we celebrate as a town before Valentine’s Week ends! you guys are tourists, right? you should stay until then.”

“when’s that?”

“three days from now!”

“thats roughly how long we have until the log pose sets so i don’t see why not.” Nami shrugs.

after thanking the stranger for their help, the four of you decide to settle lodging for the whole crew until it’s time to leave. as the others discuss further details, you opt to look for Sanji to reel him back to the group. you spot his back a few metres away but before you can call out for him, an old lady grabs your arm.

“hey!” you cry out instinctively, instantly capturing the attention of your crewmates as well as your lover whose eyes dart around frantically looking for you. meanwhile, Nami, Robin and Zoro ready themselves for a possible fight.

“it’s time for a love reading!” the old lady announces and everyone around you cheers. “come, take a seat.” she ushers you to a stool just beside her.

“what’s going on?” you ask, still apprehensive but less on-edge than you were a second ago.

“it’s a Valentine’s Week tradition, my dear, nothing to worry about.” she straightens your clothes and tidies your hair as you take a seat, glancing over at your crewmates for reassurance. Zoro nods, hands at the ready. “i heard you were tourists so i’ll do this reading for free, dearie.”

before you can ask what the hell she’s talking about, she closes her eyes and waves her hands around in an odd manner. the surrounding crowd goes quiet, seemingly entranced by the display, looking almost eager for what’s to come. the only movement comes from Sanji who’s now pushing through the locals to get to you.

then, out of the blue, the old lady gasps as her eyes shoot open. she stares at you incredulously for a second before turning to the audience.

“her score is a hundred out of a hundred!”

just as Sanji reaches you to pull you into a protective embrace, the entire street roars with excitement at the elderly woman’s news.

“what the hell does that mean?” Sanji murmurs. you wonder to yourself the same thing, finding comfort in the chaos from the warmth of his body pressed against yours as well as the knowledge that, without fail, he came right to you when he thought you were in danger.

iii.

much to the entire crew’s relief, your perfect score was apparently nothing but good news. for the next two days, you and your companions are treated like VIPs, much to Nami’s pleasure because it resulted in free lodging at the swankiest hotel.

“all already fully paid for and it’s right beside the royal palace!” the random stranger who sponsored your rooms proudly proclaimed, his eyes scanned over your crewmates before landing and staying on you. “nothing but the best for this year’s prime candidate, of course.”

“and who are we to say no to free things, right guys?” Nami instantly took him up on the offer before the man guided you to the elevators. as you streamed in, the last of the crew to enter the lift, the man took your hand and lifted it to his lips.

“and i hope you will consider me as your choice after this generous gift, milady,” he said after pressing a kiss to your skin. so shocked by the sudden turn of events, you could only stare at him in confusion as the rest of your companions’ jaws dropped.

“she’s taken,” Sanji growled as he grabbed your arm and tugged you to his chest. “thanks for the free rooms but kindly fuck off. now. or i’ll kick your ass so hard the whole hotel is gonna collapse.”

though it was the first, it was certainly not the last time people approached you to shower you with compliments and gifts. while their methods of wooing you vary widely from handmade snacks to reciting poems, one thing they all have in common was how unabashed their attempts are.

“i think our chef’s about to lose it,” Robin observes as the few of you stroll down the street booths to soak in all the festivities. “he’s flirting with the local women as usual but it’s like his eyes are glued onto you,” she laughs, gesturing in his direction.

turning around to see what she means, you bite back a laugh of your own when you spot your beloved partner a few booths away. although surrounded by women who are clearly interested in reciprocating his advances, Sanji’s eyes are blown wide open and staring right at you. his face turns red when you wave and shoot him a smile.

“excuse me, i have a gift for you–” the nth unfamiliar voice of the day tears your attention away from your boyfriend as you turn around to respond to your new pursuer. before you can reject their present, though, you feel a sudden overwhelming presence behind you as the stranger’s face turns pale.

looking up, you’re greeted by the scowling face of your favourite chef, cigarette between his teeth nearly cut in half from how hard he’s biting it. his sharp gaze pierces the man in front of you. if looks could kill, it would’ve been a massacre.

“hey sweet boy,” you greet, reaching out to cup his face in your hand, head still looking straight up at him as he towers behind you. the moment your skin makes contact with his, Sanji’s body relaxes and he turns his gaze to you, his eyes now round and shining. he holds your hand to his face, the size of his hand engulfing the entirety of yours.

“ya finally done flirting with women, shitty cook?” Zoro yells from a short distance away. Sanji shouts back his own retort as usual, all the while still pressing your hand to his cheek. when he’s done verbally abusing his friend, he returns his attention to the stranger still standing in front of you, now seemingly frozen in place, wrapped present still held in his shaking hands.

“and you.” Sanji mutters. “beat it.”

iv.

for the rest of the day, as the sun made its slow descent from the sky, the blond haired cook stayed glued to your side.

“it’s like he’s your stupid guard dog or something,” Zoro snorted; and though he’d meant it in a derogatory sense, you could kind of see where he was coming from. Sanji had never looked so threatening in the time you’ve known him, his gaze was sharp with his fist clenched at his side (his other hand was holding yours) and it looked like he was ready to pounce on whichever poor soul tried to steal you away from him next.

“oh my god, he’s actually like a dog,” Nami concurred with an amused look on her face when she observed how the chef only lost his tough guy act whenever you paid him any attention. the second you talked to him or looked his way, he would instantly snap back to his normal sweet self.

“it’s quite endearing in a weird way,” Robin added. neither Nami or Zoro agreed out loud but shared the same sentiment.

after sunset, you find yourself reunited with the rest of your crew for dinner. with your free rooms came access to the hotel’s fanciest restaurant (much to Luffy’s delight) and (to Sanji’s horror) even richer men and women trying to make you fall in love with them.

“i wonder how much this is gonna cost,” Luffy says at one point, words muffled from how much food he’s stuffing into his mouth.

“it’s all free,” Robin answers, “everything here was sent by and paid for by the other patrons.” She turns to look at you, propping up her arm by her elbow to rest her chin on her hand. “our dear (Y/N) sure is popular here.” she says, smiling endearingly when she notices how Sanji shuffles his chair closer to yours in response.

without saying a word, he reaches out under the table to hold your hand. the relief he feels when you give him a light squeeze in return makes his heart sink the lowest it ever has the entire time your crew set foot on Cupid Island and he can’t really put his finger on the reason.

shouldn’t i feel happy she’s still willing to hold my hand?

Sanji pulls your hand over to rest atop his lap before choosing to forgo the rest of his dinner to simply play with your fingers. for a good while, you’re content with watching him quietly caress and rub your digits as though they’re the most precious things in the world, heart fluttering at the gesture. you can tell he’s thinking about something but decide that it’ll be better to ask him about it later in the privacy of your hotel room.

“excuse me, miss (Y/N)?” a deep voice says as the young man who owns it walks through the restaurant and towards your crew’s table. gasps erupt from every other table as all eyes fall on him and subsequently your group as well. seeing as its nothing new, most of your companions simply ignore him to continue eating and drinking to their hearts’ content. the man stops by your side, standing in between your chair and Sanji’s, seemingly undeterred by the sight of your hand resting on your beloved’s thigh.

“yes?” you respond simply, looking up at him. you’d be a liar if you said he wasn’t an attractive person, with his shiny soft hair, defined cheekbones and the brightest eyes you’ve ever seen; but his looks alone do nothing to your heart.

the man drops to one knee before you and just a split second after, you feel Sanji tighten his grip on your hand. his palms turning cold and clammy as he glares at the intruder forcing himself in between you and him. the rest of your crew freeze in place, mouths agape at the sight playing out before them.

“my name is Prince Aphr of Cupid Island and i would like to officially court you for your eventual hand in marriage.”

to be continued

–

tags: @amei-draws-stuff @carmen-skullz @cobainlover @lara-christensen-me @shondlenoodle @teewon @makingmammonmoves @carmendanny2

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x yn #one piece x you #op x reader #imagine #fanfic #op #sanji x reader #angst #fluff #opla x reader #one piece live action x reader #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji

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gothlcsan · 3 months ago

Text

꒰ BEFORE SLEEPING ꒱ 재현

Jaehyun has always been one of your closest of best friends, never thinking anything would happen between the two of you. Until one night, one dream changes that completely.

genre smut, non!idol jaehyun, fem!reader

tws wet dream, best friends, deep throating, cum eating, pet names, no mention of protection or aftercare, not proofread

author’s note welcome to day two of kinktober! i will be back next week with two new fics ~ ! using @dreamlandcreations kinktober list <3

word count 1496

Placing your coat onto its hanger, you take off your heels, shifting so that your phone is safely tucked between your ear and shoulder.

“Mhm, I just made it inside. Thank you again for dinner and your new book, I’m thinking of starting it soon.”

That gains a laugh from the other end.

“Have you read any of my books?” Jaehyun questioned.

There’s a small pause.

“Well, no, but I still buy them thank you!” You retort back.

He thanks you for that, the two of you falling into casual conversation until he makes it home, bidding each other goodnight before hanging up. Quietness fills out your apartment, debating what to do with your nail between your teeth. Having decided on showering quickly before getting into bed, you let your hair air dry, pour a glass of wine, and grab Jaehyun’s new book as you climb into bed.

Brushing the cover with your hand you feel the lettering, liking the title considering it was ironically before bed for you.

Before Sleeping.

Opening the book to the first page you get engrossed in the novel. Much to your surprise it’s filthy, the glasses of wine heightening the blush blossoming over your face and legs. You didn’t know Jaehyun wrote like this, your lip tucked between your teeth as you made it halfway through before deciding it was time for sleep. Your heart raced in your chest, eyes heavy due to the sudden sleepiness paired with the alcohol, nodding off rather quickly.

“Are you awake?”

“Hm?”

You’re asked again, humming, feeling your body being rolled over so you’re flat on your back. Eyes fluttering open as you see Jaehyun over you. He’s still wearing what he wore last night at dinner, sleepily asking what he was doing here. Jaehyun brushes the hair out of your face, the pad of his thumb brushing across the entirety of your bottom lip.

“I missed you, sorry if I came at a bad time.”

Shaking your head you tell him it’s okay, the room going quiet until you offer him to lay down, cuddling into him instinctively. He doesn’t speak as he cups your face, your breath hitching as he brings you into a kiss, your lips in perfect harmony. Jaehyun felt warm, this isn’t real you thought, ignoring the voice in your dream, letting Jaehyun engulf. His cologne was inviting, gasping as his large hands started exploring your body.

“Jaehyun..” you softly moaned, clenching around nothing as he sat up, removing his shirt. Your heart leapt, forgetting how fit your best friend was under layers. Lifting your hand up you place it against his abs, his hand wrapped around your wrist as he brings it down to feel his growing bulge. Gulping at the size, you blush as he talks dirty, the words familiar but not able to pinpoint why.

“Look how you affect me, this is all your doing.”

The sound of his belt being undone makes the wetness between your thighs grow, gasping slightly as his trousers are pulled down, not expecting him to have nothing on underneath them. He’s large, your eyes unable to move past that, Jaehyun chuckling asking if you liked what you saw. Shamelessly nodding in response. Jaehyun says something you’re not able to make out, your eyes widening as he manhandles you so you’re sat up, your face dangerously close to his dick. Staring up at him he gives you a smile, bushing your bangs back as he tells you to open your mouth for him. You obey, opening your mouth, Jaehyun placing two fingers against your wetly warm tongue. The pressure is thrilling, wrapping your lips around the digits, humming as he pushes them toward than back between your lips in a rhythm. You feel like you’re on cloud nine, your own fingers falling to rub your clit, gasping for air when he removes his fingers.

“What an impatient brat, you need more already?”

You nod.

With little to no time for you to process, he’s pushing his dick into your mouth, the sudden intrusion making you gag slightly. He seems to be into it by the way he’s collecting a handful of your hair, saying you looked so pretty with him in your mouth, bringing his hips back to snap back forward into your mouth. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes as Jaehyun picked up his pace, pushing deeper into your throat, stretching perfectly for him. Hearing his raspy voice curse and compliment how good your throat felt around him, makes you feverishly delve your fingers into your drenched cunt. It’s sloppy, one hand wrapped around his thigh as the other worked yourself, eyes scrunched closed as you swallowed around him, Jaehyun’s grip on your hair tightening in response.

“Fuck, I’m,” Jaehyun chuckled, his voice breaking being a sign he was already close, his breathing heavy.

He places both of his hands on either side of your head, fucking himself deep in your throat. Pushing your nose deep against his pubes, his groans loud as he finally tips over the edge, cumming deep down your throat. You swallow what you can, Jaehyun pulling out, panting as you try to catch your breath, having already cummed around your own fingers a moment prior. Feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen makes you smile up at him with hooded eyes, Jaehyun calling you a good girl as he plants kisses across your face. He leans down just a bit so that he’s able to whisper in your ear, your body small compared to him.

“Time to wake up, doll.”

Sitting up with a gasp, you rub the sleep from your eyes, turning your head to look at the time. Reality sets in quickly as your fingers trailed down between your legs, feeling how wet you were, pulling your hand back in embarrassment. Looking down to see the book next to you, your stomach ignites in flames, realizing you had dreamt you and Jaehyun as the couple in the book. The dream replays in your head, your hand instinctively moving back down to your cunt, biting down on your bottom lip thinking about him.

Jaehyun…

Being this worked up it’s not long before you’re cumming around your fingers, whimpering as you fish for your phone off the bedside table. You’re not thinking clearly, dialing Jaehyun, groaning as he answers. His voice is thick with sleep, asking what you needed so late in the night, breathlessly moaning in his ear as you touch your sensitive clit.

“Jaehyun, can you please,” you’re cut off by a trembling sigh, swallowing hard as you continue.

“Please, I need you, can you please come over?”

There’s a pause, hearing him move around on the other end of the phone. Asking if he was still there, Jaehyun’s voice returned, making your stomach erupt in butterflies.

“I’m on my way now, be a good girl and don’t touch until I get there, alright?”

His voice is thick, smooth, assertive, nodding before giving him an audible response. He hangs up, covering your mouth as you remove your fingers from your cunt to wait on Jaehyun.

It’s a minimum of fifteen minutes when you hear the sound of your door being unlocked, the shuffle of shoes being removed, Jaehyun knocking on the bedroom door before coming inside.

“Fuck,” he says with a smirk, removing his coat as he walked closer to you. Covering your exposed body with your hands unsuccessfully as he sat on the bed next to you. His hand hits something, watching as Jaehyun pulls something from the mess of your sheets, a smug smirk growing on his face.

“Ah,” he lifts his book up for you to see. “This is what’s got you like this, hm?”

You blush profusely reaching to grab the book from him but he’s quicker, Jaehyun placing it on the floor as he moves so he’s looming over you. His body is much larger than yours, caging you between him and the mattress, a shocker gasp coming from you. Placing his hand on your chest he drags it down your curves until it’s just hovering where you wanted him most, clenching pathetically around nothing.

“Jaehyun.. please,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, your fingers intertwining in the ends of his hair. Lifting his eyebrow feigning innocence he purposely pressed his fingers against your clit, making you jump, pulling him into a feverish kiss. Feeling insanely incredible as your lips work together, his large hands exploring you in ways that you didn’t know were possible, pulling back to catch your breath looking into his deep brown eyes.

“You look so pretty,” Jaehyun says, earning a deep blush from you as you pull back into another kiss.

“Please shut up and fuck me.”

“Yes ma’am,” he laughs against your lips, repositioning you so that your legs are wrapped around him.

Thankful for this being reality and not in a heated dream.

#gothlcsan #smut #kpop smut #nct 127 smut #jaehyun smut #jaehyun nct #nct smut #jaehyun x reader #nct x reader #dlkinktober2024 #kinktober

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lightsoutletsgo · 10 months ago

Text

welcome home — op.81 (18+)

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader (occasional allusions to reader being thick and a little chubby but mostly non-descriptive of body!)

word count: 4.5k

warnings: (hold onto your hats folks, it’s a long list 🧍‍♀️) SMUT!! porn with very little plot, don’t be silly, wrap your willy! creampie, breeding kink, allusions to oscar being bi, use of sex toys, light degrading (slut, whore), a hint of overstimulation, spanking (ass and thighs), mentions of reader making a HECKIN lot of mess, oscar catches reader and watches her without her knowing!!

hi loves! this is the fic I wrote last night after the tequila hit and when I read it this morning to proof read it I was like 'wtf did I write?' 😭 I was debating if I should add the whole making out with the toy right there situation but my lovely beta reader @softieekayy said it was perfectly ✨spicy✨ so it has stayed in! as always, read at your own risk. please DO NOT read if you are not 18+! happy reading! mimi 🤍

God you hated triple headers. Okay that was an exaggeration, you loved the excitement of watching your boyfriend do his thing from the other side of the world but what you hated was the fact you didn’t get any of his… attention for a couple of weeks.

At first the big orange dildo had been a joke. One of your friends had bought it for you when she learned of your relationship with Oscar, “for those weekends you’re alone.” She had said. You had laughed at the bright papaya colour and brushed the whole thing off, denying you would ever need a use for it. But now as the box it sat in stared up at you from the bottom of your wardrobe, you felt a thrill rush down your spine, pussy clenching involuntarily at the thought of being filled up after so long. You leaned against the wardrobe door, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath before slamming it shut and storming back across the room to the bed, throwing yourself into the plush comforter and pillows to let out a yell. You rolled onto your back and sighed. No. You would just wait for Oscar to come home. You could handle a few more days, right? Closing your eyes, you turned your head into Oscar’s pillow and inhaled deeply, moaning at the way his scent invaded your nostrils. God you needed him. You shook your head to clear the thoughts away and focused on sleeping. The faster you slept the sooner tomorrow would come right? Which meant the sooner Oscar would be home.

You gasped as you felt fingers digging into your thighs and your eyes flew open to see Oscar between your legs, his eyes staring back at yours, hazy with lust as he sucked and nibbled on your clit before dipping his tongue into your cunt to get a taste of your sweetness. Your hands flew to his hair as your back arched. You had no clue where your clothes had gone but you didn’t care, too caught up in the way Oscar wrapped his lips around your clit and shook his head side to side. A shriek left your mouth and your legs closed quickly before he spanked your inner thighs and pushed them open, “Taste so good angel…” Your head dropped back onto the pillow as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your release. Bucking your hips up you tugged at Oscar’s hair and he let out a growl into your pussy, the vibrations doing nothing but heighten the sensation building in your lower stomach. “O-Oscar…” He smirked up at you, “Yes angel?” “Gonna cum!” You squeaked out at his unrelenting movements, “Then cum for me angel, make a mess all over my face hmm?”

Your eyes snapped open and you jolted upright. It had been a fucking dream? You groaned and led back down, a hand coming up to feel how warm your face was. But it felt so real? You whimpered and squeezed your legs together, already able to feel how much you’d dripped everywhere and soaked your panties. You bit your lip, sliding a hand down between your breasts and stomach, feeling the way your breath caught in your throat the closer you got to your thighs. Sliding your panties off underneath your - well, Oscar’s shirt - you gasped as you realised just how soaked they were and how much of your slick had coated your inner thighs. Sliding your hand down you moaned as you began to rut your pussy against your hand, already turning feral with need. You let out a loud groan and huffed.

Standing up and walking over the wardrobe before grabbing that darn box. Unpacking the dildo and quickly washing it off under the bathroom sink you slid back into bed, not even bothering to get under the covers. You stared at the toy in your hand for a moment, it was just a little over average size, more girth than length, and you couldn’t help but shiver when you realised it was a similar size and shape to your boyfriend. You noted how it had been moulded with a few veins here and there for texture and your mouth watered at the thought it conjured up, of Oscar's cock on your tongue and the way he would groan when your tongue traced the veins on his length.

Lying back down and pulling Oscar’s t-shirt up to halfway up your tummy, you gently dragged the dildo up your inner thighs, enjoying the way you felt your pussy leak onto the sheets. You decided quickly that you’d had enough of teasing yourself and so you moved the toy up to your burning core.

The toy was cold as it rubbed up and down your lips and you bit your lip, relishing in the tingling sensation everytime it caught your clit. You briefly wondered if you needed lube, but with how much you were dripping you figured you could get some later if you needed it. You dipped the tip of the toy into your entrance and your breath shuddered, “Fuck…” A moan came out involuntarily as you sank the toy into your waiting pussy a little further, relishing in the way it stretched you out so deliciously. “Mmm… Oscar…” You couldn’t help the way your boyfriend’s name slipped from your lips as the toy slid into you more, the textured veins on the toy exciting all those spots inside of you. You let out a satisfied sigh when the toy was pushed into you to the hilt and you gave yourself a moment to enjoy the full feeling it offered, before you were pulling it back out to the tip, mouth dropping open as it dragged against your walls, the silicone quickly warming up to your body temperature.

You started off slow and gentle, shallow little thrusts that had you whimpering and whining as you fucked yourself the way you knew Oscar would. The hand not using the toy flew up to pull your t-shirt up even more to expose your tits and pinch your nipple. You hummed happily, enjoying the feeling but it was quickly proving to not be enough. You spread your legs wider and began to move the toy with a little more force at a faster speed. Your moans grew a little louder, mixing with the slick wet sounds coming from your pussy. Your hand slid down from where it pinched and pulled your nipples to gently rub your clit. You felt the way you clamped down around the toy and how it made it a little harder to thrust and you smiled, knowing that feeling was something that drove Oscar wild.

At the thought of your boyfriend you let out a rather lewd sound, moving your hips up to meet your hand as you started pounding your cunt with the toy. You were drunk on the feeling, moaning like a pornstar, rubbing your clit faster. You could feel your juices all over your hand and you could hear the way you were creaming all over the toy.

But what pushed you over the edge was turning your head into Oscar’s pillow once more, inhaling and drowning in him as you came. Clenching down tightly onto the toy as your back arched and your legs shook. Practically crying out Oscar’s name, you almost growled with frustration as your hand didn’t stop, despite how tired you were, still needing more.

You let out a whimper as your hand cramped and you knew you needed to change positions. Slipping the toy out your eyes widened as you saw exactly how much of a mess you had made all over it. You pushed yourself over onto all fours and buried your face into Oscar’s pillow, moving your hand underneath your stomach and pushing the toy back into you as you fucked yourself face down ass up.

The toy easily slid back into your eager hole and you moaned at the feeling. You didn’t hesitate with teasing yourself this time, instead fucking yourself hard straightaway, a deep moan leaving your mouth as your eyes rolled back. From this new angle, the toy reached even deeper and you needed more of it. You continued railing yourself, moaning and whining Oscar’s name with everything you had in you.

Oscar sighed with relief, feeling all the tension and stress leave his body as the taxi pulled up in front of the apartment complex. Climbing out with his bags, he thanked the driver and headed up to your shared apartment. He knew it was the early hours of the morning and you would still be asleep but if he could be quiet enough then maybe he could surprise you in the morning with his arms wrapped around you. God he’d missed you. As he reached the doorway of your apartment his stomach flipped with excitement and he didn’t think he’d ever unlocked the door or put his bags down so quickly, desperate to have you in his arms again. But when he got to your bedroom door he stopped. Oscar’s hand hovered over the bedroom door handle as he listened to the noises drifting through from the other side. Were you moaning? He heard the noise again and he didn’t have to strain his ears to pick up the slick wet sounds of you playing with your pussy. He gulped, unsure of what to do. Did he go in and risk you feeling upset and cornered? Or did he deprive you of what you so clearly wanted? Oscar’s head tipped back in a silent groan as another whimpery moan slipped through the door. He opened the door and hsi mouth dropped open at the sight. He’d expected to maybe see you on your back with a hand down your panties but what was in front of him was much more lewd than that. There you were, your ass up in the air jiggling deliciously as you pounded a toy in and out of you, a toy that was the same colour as his car? Oscar growled low in his throat and started to take a step towards you but what stopped him in his tracks was the sight he saw when he got closer to you, noticing how you actually had his t-shirt in your other hand and you had it held up to your face as your eyes rolled back and you drooled everywhere. A louder groan tore from his throat and you shrieked at the intrusion, toy dropping out of your pussy, allowing him to see your pretty hole fluttering and clenching for a moment before you were sat on the bed and staring at him with wide eyes, his t-shirt held up over your body in an attempt to cover yourself. “Oscar!” “Hi angel…” Everything was still and silent before he was on you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him as he kissed you. You moaned into his mouth, dropping his t-shirt to instead grab at his hair. Oscar growled before he pulled away from you,

“Put that toy back inside you, right fucking now.” “What?-” “You heard me angel and I’m not in the mood to play games right now…” Oscar’s eyes were dark and you felt your thighs squeeze together as your hand searched the bed for where you’d thrown the toy in your surprise. You found it and led back on the bed, slowly spreading your legs to let him see your pussy lips and inner thighs glistening with your juices. He hissed and licked his lips at the sight of the creamy mess that had gathered at your entrance. “Go on then… put it back in angel.” Your eyes shot up to look at his, “A-are you sure?” He spanked your inner thigh sharply, “Did I stutter?” You shook your head and slid the toy back inside you, gasping. Oscar sucked in a breath through his teeth and slid his hands up and down your thighs, teasing you. You whined and bucked your hips up. He laughed and repeated the motion, enjoying the way you were already gasping underneath him. “Feel good baby?” You nodded and gasped as he led down on his stomach so his face was level with your cunt. You did you best to close your thighs but a sharp look from him had you opening them up once again. Oscar licked his lips and you felt his hand cover yours at the base of the toy. You removed your hand and whimpered as he started fucking you himself. God this was so hot. You didn’t think it could get any better and then you felt his tongue on your clit.

Just like in your dream your hands flew to his hair as you were catapulted straight into the buildup for another orgasm. Oscar let out an appreciative moan as he tasted you for the first time. If he was phased by the fact he was effectively licking a fake cock at the same time he was licking your pussy, he didn’t show it, if anything it seemed to make him more enthusiastic, occasionally pulling the toy out completely to lick up the mess at your entrance and then licking and sucking the tip of the toy to taste your sweet arousal from the deepest parts of your pussy. The sight had you moaning and squirming and he fucking noticed… Perhaps the two of you needed to have a conversation at some point…

You were pulled from your thoughts by Oscar taking your clit between his lips and flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive button. Your hips rocked back and forth against the toy as you rode his face, “Mmph, fuck yes angel,” Oscar murmured against your clit, feeling how your pussy had tightened around the toy as he struggled to pull it out,. His tongue swirled around your clit, his drool spilling down your pussy and onto the toy making it even more slippery as he thrust it in and out of you. Your hands tangled in his hair as you felt yourself get close, “Baby!” You warned him, Oscar just hummed, your clit still in his mouth and you grabbed at his hair and his shoulders, his hands, anything you could as you tumbled over the edge, back arching and toes curling. You moaned and whimpered as you came, Oscar pressing soft kisses to your clit to draw out your orgasm even longer. You let out an even louder whimper when he pulled the toy out, hating how empty your pussy felt as you squeezed and throbbed around nothing. You stared at the toy in Oscar’s hand and then back up at his face, leaning forward you kissed it softly before licking the tip, taking it into your mouth and gently sucking on it. Oscar groaned at the sight and grabbed your waist with his free hand, pulling you up to his eye level. You giggled as a plan formed in your mind and you gently pushed his hand towards his lips instead, he seemed to understand as he licked your arousal off the toy himself, eyes fluttering shut as he tasted you. “C’mere,” you whispered to him quietly, gently holding his face with one hand as your other hand moved down to squeeze and stroke him through his sweatpants. Your lips also wrapped around the toy and you licked into Oscar’s mouth, making out with him with the dildo between you.

You giggled as you felt him throb through his clothes, clearly enjoying this new experience. You moaned as Oscar broke away from you to duck his head into your neck and leave some sloppy kisses there. You continued to suck the toy off, closing your eyes and putting on a show you knew was getting harder to ignore. Oscar looked back up at you and his mouth gaped a little at how hot you looked. Grasping the toy in his own hand once more he gently pushed the toy down your throat and hissed as you stared up at him, big doe eyes looking at him so sweetly,

“Back on your hands and knees baby.” His voice was low and though you’d been fucking yourself for a while, you still felt another wave of arousal course through you.

Turning round you yelped as you felt his hand strike your ass, “Such a fucking slut baby… is this what you do when I’m away hmm?” He leaned over you to bite your earlobe and kiss your neck as he pulled his sweats down. He was ridiculously hard, pre-cum already dripping from the tip of his cock and he smeared it across your pussy lips, sticky and messy. You moaned and tried pushing yourself back onto him but he simply tutted and held your plush hips in place with one arm while he other hand spanked you again, relishing in the way your flesh rippled from his hand, “You just couldn’t wait hmm?” You mewled and shook your head, “M sorry Oscar just missed you too mu- Oh!” You stopped mid-sentence as he thrust into you at once, moaning as his head dropped to the middle of your back. Pressing gentle kisses down as he straightened up, slowly pulling out in a way that had your arms collapsing and your head falling into the pillow.

“You okay angel?” He breathed, leaning over you again to check in and you nodded, “M okay Osc, promise. Just need you to move, please!” He nodded and pulled out slowly, smirking at the way your body shuddered and shook under him, before he started a relentless pace. His hips slapped into your ass and you fucking giggled as he fucked you. Something about that made Oscar throb. Your pussy convulsed around him as you mindlessly babbled at him, too fucked out to make sense anymore, “Yes fuck Oscar, baby it’s so good, so big, so big fuck,” You gasped, “missed your cock so much baby, missed worshipping it, fuckkkk want it in my mouth, gimme your fingers please?” Oscar obliged and the hand not guiding your hips pushed two fingers into your mouth. Oscar’s own eyes rolled back as he felt you drooling and sucking. “Not enough Osc, need more!” You cried out and his eyes caught sight of the orange toy that now lay discarded next to you, still covered in your arousal. Oscar smirked to himself once more, removing his fingers from your mouth and picking the toy up. He moved close to your ear, wanting to see this up close as he whispered, “You need more angel? Then here you go.” he tapped the dildo against your lips and you hummed happily, greedily opening your mouth to stuff it full of the silicone toy. “How is it angel hmm? Tasting yourself on that toy?” You gave an enthusiastic moan, smiling even with your mouth full and Oscar found himself staring at you adoringly, never wavering in how his hips pistoned in and out of you.

He straightened up, allowing you to fuck your own throat with the toy, focusing on gripping your fleshy hips and tummy and fucking into you. He could feel himself sweating and his hair was in his eyes but still he would not stop. He let out a guttaral groan when he realised that you were now bouncing back to meet his thrusts, fucking yourself and humping his cock. His hips stilled for a moment as he let you grind, working for what you were so desperate to have, “There you go… mhmm good fuckin girl that’s it… atta girl.” He praised you as you grew even needier, throwing yourself back with more and more enthusiasm each time.

“Oscar!” You squealed as a hand snuck down to softly slide over your clit and you froze, thighs shaking from the stimulation, “Easy, angel, I got you…” You stuffed your mouth full of the toy once more and led there, happy to be on the receiving end of his attention and affections. Oscar continued to rub your clit and he smoothly rolled his hips into yours, loving every squeak and whimper and moan and mewl he elicited from you.

You fought to keep your eyes open as you felt that pressure building and building between your legs. “Oscar…” You pulled off of the toy to warn him you were close, Oscar’s response was to simply lean down over you, practically mounting you as his hips refused to stop, now pounding into you.He grabbed the toy and threw it to one side, smashing his lips to yours in a messy exchange of spit and breath and moans. You whimpered, the slight change in his position causing him to rub against your g-spot with every push and pull thrust. You could feel your body climbing higher and you scrabbled to grab the hand near your head and link his fingers with yours, “Fuck baby!” You cried and Oscar knew the sound immediately, “Cum for me angel, there you go, atta girl…”

He cooed at you as you came hard. Moaning into his mouth and squeezing his hands as your pussy convulsed and fluttered around his cock. Oscar’s head dropped to the pillow next to you as he did his best to hold it together, wanting to fuck you through your orgasm. You giggled as you came down from your high, gasping when his hips circled, keeping his cock deep inside you as he did. You legs gave out and you slid to lay down, Oscar following you down gently as he started to softly rut into you, grinding and circling his hips this time rather than thrusting, he kissed your neck softly before biting lightly, not enough to mark but just enough to feel it there, “Missed you so so much angel,” You gasped, “Yeah?” “Mmm…” He moaned, “Been fuckin torture being away from you…”

You tipped your head to the side to allow him to leave more kisses between words, “Missed your pretty eyes, your soft lips, these gorgeous thighs, your perfect hips, your sweet cunt.” He emphasised the last word with a soft thrust and you smiled, loving how he took care of you but now it was his turn, “Missed you too baby…” Oscar laughed and kissed your cheek, “you did hmm?” “Yeah… missed your freckles and your arms holdin’ me, missed your pretty hands, your head in my lap, missed your hips and missed… oh…” a soft moan cut you off, “Missed what angel?” Oscar rolled his hips particularly deep and you inhaled sharply, “Missed your cock!”

Oscar tutted at this, “Sure didn’t seem like it baby… you had that toy stuffed in your sweet hole pretty good when I got home…” You whined, “Didn’t feel the same, didn’t feel as good!” You reasoned, Oscar’s hips began to move a little more, beginning that familiar motion of sliding in and out of you. He could feel how you’d not only made a mess on your own thighs but his thighs too, and his hips. “Didn’t feel as good hmm? You certainly seemed to be enjoying it?” “Just missed you too much!” A hand snaked up to gently take hold of your throat, not to choke you but enough to remind you of who was in charge. You panted as his thrusts increased again, “Please Oscar, wanna feel you full me up!”

His eyes closed and his head rested against your shoulder as he heard you begging for his cum, “Need to feel you fill me up, please? Be so fuckin good for you Osc, I promise!” You heard him growl next to your ear, a low sound that had you determined to make this man lose his damn mind. “Yes, just like that baby, please don’t stop please please please!” You kept begging him over and over, knowing you wouldn’t be satisfied until he was spilling out of you, “Please baby, show me just how much you missed me, yes yes yes! Fuck. Make me fuckin take it come on baby… ‘S so fucking good Oscar… only one that can make me feel this good. Mmm fucking love your cock oh my GOD!-” Oscar’s hand tightened round your throat a little as his hips slapped into yours with more need once again, too turned on by your begging to do anything else, “Gonna fill you up angel, “Yes!” You cried out, Oscar felt his balls tighten and his cock throb, “Gonna breed my pretty girl, cum nice and deep inside you hmm? Mark you from the inside shit, FUCK! I love you!” With a loud growl, Oscar’s cock throbbed as he shot ropes of his thick hot cum deep inside you, just rocking back and forth as he made sure to spill every last drop into your greedy cunt.

He pressed a long kiss to your neck, then your cheek and then the side of your head.

With Oscar on top of you and having already cum multiple times, you felt all warm and cosy and you couldn’t help the way you immediately felt sleepy, “Welcome home baby…” Oscar chuckled and rolled off of you, pulling you with him to cuddle into his side, “Angel, have you even slept yet?” You yawned as you nodded, “For a couple of hours at least…” You trailed off feeling the exhaustion hit you all at once, “Oh no no no angel, bathroom first, then water, then sleep!” You groaned but Oscar was firm and you knew he was right. He helped you to the bathroom and then went to grab water while you finished up. After falling into bed together you immediately cuddled up to him, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you threw you leg over his waist, his hand automatically rubbing your thigh. Things with Oscar always felt so right, so natural, so normal. You gave a contented sigh and Oscar snorted as he spotted the bright orange toy in the corner of the room from where it had gracefully landed after being flung off the bed earlier. You followed his gaze and giggled as he broke into full laughter, “Papaya Y/N? I mean, really?” You shook your head, “It wasn’t me! One of my friends bought it as a joke gift and today was the fist time I…” You trailed off and he squeezed you tightly, understanding what you meant, “We should definitely talk about what was going on between you and that toy though…” Oscar blushed and you kissed his cheek, “Don’t worry baby, it was hot!” Oscar smiled at you, settling down to fall asleep with you in his arms, “What a welcome home ey?”

࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃

#mimi.writes #mimi.thirsts #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x plus size reader #f1 smut #f1 fic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri oneshot #f1 oneshot

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oceantornadoo · 10 months ago

Note

IDK! HEAR ME OUT THO!!!

Simon, staging the break in and what not so he could push you back into his arms??? INSANE!

Delicious story. Thank you for the food! <3

so originally when i made that last fic (which unexpectedly blew up tysm everyone) i added in the creepy elements almost on accident?? but this and another reply has me thinking...

tw: slight humiliation (but you'll like it)=

simon riley wasn't a bad man. he also wasn't a bad husband. at least that's what he told himself.

when you had presented him with those divorce papers a bit ago (13 months and 4 days, but who was counting), he thought it was a bluff. a joke. he had gone too far in your last argument, and that was your reaction. when he told you he'd go to therapy, you stared at him with a look he'd only see on men in the battlefield. dead all the way through, a walking husk. so he signed them and went to therapy anyways.

the whole time, this whole 13-month break, where you had been 'building a new life' or whatever, he had been planning. internalizing the commentary his therapist would make, and then spitting it back out to you while you moved out of his place. every time you seemed to forget one extra box, and who's to say if he hid a couple in his room? he had a plan.

over time, simon really seemed to have learned so much from therapy. so much about communication. he had become open and welcoming, far from that man who would respond to your complaints with hard stares and a lack of words. so maybe you met for coffee a couple of times and that's how he knew about the cafe by your new place. maybe that's how he tailed you one night after a date, just to make sure this new guy didn't try anything (and not to figure out your unit number). whatever he did, he played a dangerous game by letting you have this illusion of freedom while balancing his presence in your life, just enough to make you want more. after weeks and week of stagnant progress, he needed one extra push. something small, not even a shove.

and if he happened to mention your unit number to a bunch of shady guys that hung out in the alley by your building? happened to brag about your pretty pussy and sweet-smelling panties? maybe mention your habit of not locking the window when you left for work? who's to say. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

and now here you were, back in his arms where you belonged. a little frightened but comforted in the knowledge that he could protect you. the ghost wasn't shed when he took his mask off, but you didn't need to know that.

your body was so used to being in simon's arms you didn't even realize you had been grinding on him for the past ten minutes. his boxers you wore were sticky with arousal as you grinded against his clothed cock in the dark. even in your dream, it was simon underneath you, no one else. "si." you panted, a near-whisper that only a military man could have heard. "dove?" he adjusted your sleeping positions, tossing the covers to give you more room to maneuver against him.

"i know i said that thing about the line not being crossed." he gave you a low chuckle. silly little girl. you had finally realized how much you needed him and he was going to milk you for all you were worth. "and?" you stopped. shit. he needed to seem more responsive. he moved you from his thigh to his boner using one arm, the other one snaking its way under your shirt to stroke your back. you moaned as he massaged the tension from the day's earlier events away, giving you sweet relief. the sweetness of the massage made a hard contrast to the friction in your core as he rubbed you against his hardened cock.

"spit it out, baby." he growled. "can you-fuck." his hand had moved to the back of your neck now, holding it in a tight grip. his hand was so large he could feel the pulse points on either side of your jaw, heart racing. finally. "can you get me off? just this once?" he snorted, moving you up and down against him faster, dragging your sensitive clit over and over. "what's the magic word?" he flipped you both around, pressing his body weight on top of you.

simon turned the light on, wanting to see how needy you were. you were panting, shirt sticky with sweat as your chest moved up and down with exertion. he hiked up your shirt and took off your boxers, exposing your sticky cunt to the cool air. he took a sniff of the fabric, noting your small gasp as if you didn't know how obsessed he was with you already. "magic word." your mouth dropped. guess you weren't getting off that easily. "please, simon." he clucked his tongue at that. "ghost?" he left out a short laugh, arms reaching out to tug his shirt off of you. your nipples were so hard, aching to be pinched and sucked just how you liked them. "not ghost." he reached over to his nightstand, pulling something out of the drawer. he fumbled with his hand for a second, then held yours up to the light as he slipped something on it.

"husband." the words left your mouth in a whoosh, eyes transfixed on your wedding ring that was on your hand. the one you had flung at him after he complained about the divorce papers, the one you said you'd rather die than wear again. and here it was, right back on your finger, sparkling in the lamplight.

simon captured your mouth in a rough kiss, entering you with his ring and middle finger at the same time. "so willing for your husband, hm? all puffy and wet. look at your cunt, darling." you both looked down at your pussy at the same time. it was squelching, your vibrator sessions not holding a candle to what your ex husband could do to you. you were almost embarrassed by how desperate your pussy looked, clit enlarged from its earlier friction. his fingers worked in and out of you, wedding ring covered in slick. you watched as he pressed his thumb to your clit in small circles, a tightening sensation in your lower belly rising to the surface. "simon, si-fuck" he gave your pussy a small slap, pulling his fingers out as you addressed him incorrectly. "husband, please." he entered you again roughly, drawing a low moan from you. he captured your nipple in his mouth, teething it just enough to make you hurt. punishment.

"please please please i'm right ther-" he pressed hard against your clit and sent you careening off the edge into your orgasm, back bowing off the bed. simon gave you small love bites as you recovered, hand still working your cunt to draw out your orgasm.

finally, he removed his fingers and drew back from you, forcing eye contact. he put both in his mouth, moaning at the taste of your arousal mixed with the metal from the wedding band. your jaw was still open, looking at him like you had never seen him before. like the sheep's skin had finally been removed, and now only the wolf remained.

"let's get you to bed, wife."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley wife #fluff #ghost call of duty #ex husband ghost #tornadothoughts #yandere simon riley

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reidelight · 5 months ago

Text

Wake Up Call

summary: when the heat breaks down at the hotel you’re staying at, you suggest sharing a bed with spencer to keep warm throughout the night

genre: a twinge of smut and fluff

cw: 18+ MDNI, gn!reader, afab!reader, pet names (darling, love, pretty boy), slight sub!spencer if you squint hard enough, mutual pining, fade to black sex

wc: 1.8k

note: hi! this is my first fic on here :) there's def potential for a part two if y'all want it. enjoy!

You regretted not bringing a sweater to sleep in.

While it made complete sense that the weather cooled as the sun went down, you couldn’t help but complain as the cheap motel informed you all that the heating was unfortunately down in some of the rooms. Ever the lucky ones, you and Spencer stepped foot into your shared room and are welcomed with a deceptively kind wall of chilly air.

“You’d think that with all the BAU does on a daily basis, we’d get a decent room to hunker down in,” you huff, setting down your duffle bag on the farther bed.

“Just you wait until you feel the thickness of the duvet,” Spencer chimes in, which results in a dramatic sigh falling from your lips.

It was only a matter of time before you had suggested sharing a bed to gather as much heat as possible. Seeing as Spencer was a walking heater, it made perfect sense when he crawled into your bed and even more so when you huddled close together.

Despite the good doctor’s opinions on the amount of germs passed through physical contact, he found that you bypassed any and every one of those thoughts. Simply put, he didn’t mind your germs. After the three years you two had worked together at the BAU, Spencer had developed a bit of a soft spot for you, and you for him.

“Pretty boy,” Morgan smirked as he watched you enter with Spencer, treats in hand and the brightest smiles on your respective faces. “About time you two got together.”

“What?” Spencer squeaked, the heat rising to his cheeks. “No, they just brought me a coffee this morning.”

“Just you?” Derek turns to you, “What about me? I like coffee too, and don’t get me started on donuts.”

“So does the rest of the team, and everyone else in this office building. I can’t exactly afford enough for everyone,” you laugh, taking a seat at your desk.

“Not my fault the coffee machine broke down and maintenance hasn’t gotten around to fixing the damn thing,” Morgan groaned, tilting his head back.

“I’ll bring you one tomorrow, but it’s going on the company card,” you reply, flashing a smile to Morgan.

“Not a chance,” Hotch says as he passes through the bullpen.

Your conversation faded away as Spencer set up his desk far from your own. He couldn’t help but stare at the little heart drawn next to his name on the cup. You were his best friend, but he couldn’t help but allow his heart to flutter at the prospect of something more. Of course, he had weighed the pros and cons of asking you out, but ultimately decided it wasn’t the smartest idea.

It was all around bad timing. You had just gotten out of a rough relationship and swore off dating for the time being. Spencer watched as men and women alike pursued you each time you’d gone out on BAU bonding nights. It made perfect sense. You were the most beautiful person Spencer had laid his eyes on, of course other people would see that too.

Spencer had done his best not to let the idea of you in relations with another get to his head. Hell, he had spent so long trying to push away his own feelings for you. It’s not like workplace relationships were prohibited– Penelope and Kevin’s relationship was given nothing but support from the beginning. To him, there was simply no way that you would ever see him in that light.

Apparently he had been wrong, specifically about what kind of feelings you had for him.

When he had woken up in the middle of the night, Spencer found that the blood not only rushed to his cheeks at the state of your position, but to his crotch as well. You had unknowingly curled up against his front, your head tucked underneath his chin, legs tangled together.

For a moment, Spencer stopped breathing. You were so calm, completely unaware of the lewd thoughts running throughout his head. He felt ashamed for wanting to pull you closer and hear your sickly sweet voice moan his name.

“Y/N? Wake up, I’m sorry,” Spencer mumbled, trying to wake you.

Instead of opening your eyes, you had moved impossibly closer to his body, placing pressure onto his already aching cock. Spencer winced, simultaneously cursing and thanking whatever god above that allowed this to happen.

“Darling, I need you to wake up,” Spencer shook you again, sighing in relief once he saw your eyes flutter open.

“Was there another murder? What’s going on?” you grumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“You really shouldn’t be rubbing your eyes like that. It increases the possibility of small scratches on your cornea, leading to redness, light sensitivity, and irritation,” Spencer spits out, trying his best to evade his evident nervousness.

“I just know you didn’t wake me up to tell me that,” You were slightly more awake now, still unaware of your (in Spencer’s opinion) compromised position.

“I’m sorry, I just need to get up,” Spencer rushed out, gesturing to your proximity. “Right now, preferably. I-I’m so sorry.”

Eyes wide, you shuffle away from him, apologizing profusely for moving around in your sleep. In your defense, the beds weren’t exactly the roomiest, and definitely not built for two people to sleep in comfortably at once. And he was just... so warm.

Spencer scrambled to get out of your shared bed, doing his best to cover his crotch with his hands. Already embarrassed enough, he finds himself bolting to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He rubs his hands on his face, ignoring the statement he’d spat out to you minutes prior.

Unbeknownst to him, you had noticed his evident hard on as his lanky figure stumbled into the adjoined bathroom. Knowing your history, you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t think of the prospect of a hypothetical relationship blossoming between you two. Before you could overthink the idea, you found yourself following his lead and stopping at the door of the bathroom.

“Spence?” you knock gently, trying to listen for any movement beyond the door. “Are you okay?”

“Yep!” he replied rather quickly.

“It’s completely okay, you know. You shouldn’t be ashamed for… that,” you say softly.

“Can we please forget about it? This is highly inappropriate, and I truly am sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, Spence. Who said I wanted to forget?” Spencer feels his breath fall short. “Can you let me in, love?”

How could he even begin to say no to you?

Unlocking the door, you’re greeted with a disheveled looking Spencer, cheeks flushed a deep scarlet.

“What’s going on there, pretty boy?” you begin, taking a step closer to him.

“Look, I’m really sorry about this. I really didn’t mean to,” he begins, “W-what are you doing?” his voice falters to a whisper, afraid to speak any louder.

You placed your hands onto his wrists, gently pulling them away from his middle, allowing the view of his clothed erection on display.

“You really have nothing to be embarrassed of, Spence,” you smile, socking your head to the side. “Do you need some help taking care of that?”

“I-I couldn’t ask you to do that,” he mumbled.

“Why not? We’re friends, yeah?” Letting go of his wrists, you bring your hands to rest around his neck.

Spencer nods, instinctively putting his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“And friends help each other out,” he groans, shutting his eyes. “Say the word and I’ll stop. I’d never want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No!” he exclaims, gripping your hips tighter. “I’m just nervous.”

“Of what, darling? It’s only me,” you pause, holding his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “You have done this before, right?”

“Minimally, yes, but it's not just that. This could change everything. I don’t want to lose you as a friend if anything goes wrong. A-and the team! How are we going to explain any of this to them?” Spencer rambles, trying to avoid your gaze.

“We are the ones in control of this. It’s really our own prerogative to figure it all out. Either way, you’re still my best friend,” your voice fades away, lips pursing at all the thoughts running through your head.

“I am? I thought Penny was?” he spoke just above a whisper.

“Of course you’re my best friend, dummy. You make it difficult to not love you.”

What? Spencer’s jaw drops, struggling to process the words spilling out of your mouth.

“I can understand if you don’t feel the same way–” your sentence is cut off by soft lips pressing against yours.

Following his lead, you kiss him back just as eagerly. Spencer hums into your mouth as you gently tug at the roots of his hair. You took this as a chance to slip your tongue against his, nipping at his bottom lip. He was desperate, unable to get enough of the taste of your lips. Pulling you taut against his body, you let out a shaky moan feeling his erection press against your belly.

“March 13, 2011,” he says, taking a breath. “Exactly two months after you joined the team, you didn’t seem like yourself. You were really in your head, not even Penelope could cheer you up. It also happens to be the day I worked up the courage to invite you over to mine for some wine and movies to take your mind off everything.”

You hum, taking a pause to press a short kiss to his lips. “Yeah, I remember that. It was the first time we had hung out outside the office.”

“It took every fiber in my being to not kiss you while wine drunk,” he laughs, toying with the hem of your shirt. “I think that’s the day I realized that I fell in love with you.”

“Oh, Spence,” you coo, brushing the hair from his eyes. “I probably would’ve kissed you back.”

“You’d just broken up with your partner. I couldn’t do that to you. I wanted to be a safe place, not just some guy that wanted to get in your pants.”

“I’d like to think that both those statements can exist at once.”

Spencer purses his lips, trying to hide his smile. His heart was beating out of his chest. He’d never felt lighter than he did right now.

“What do you think about letting me help with this, hm?” Spencer moans as your hands travel down his body, hovering just above his bulge.

“I don’t think we can just be friends after this,” he whispers, leaning into your touch.

“Sounds like a plan.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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snoopyracing · 5 months ago

Text

wanna be yours 2.0 // ln4 & po5 smau // alternate ending

part one | part two | part three (lando ending)

pairing: lando norris X american!reader / mclaren photographer!reader and pato o'ward X reader

warnings: swearing

summary: a remix of my fic wanna be yours in social media au form. or basically lando and the reader both being in love with each other but being too stubborn and scared to say anything so they suffer in silence until one finally crumbles.

contains: best friends to strangers, pining, angst, jealous!lando, asshole!lando, clueless!lando, and a lando or pato? situation.

masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

may 26th, 2024

liked by y/bsf, patriciooward, landonorris and 98,520 others

y/n.jpg: something about an empty track the morning of a race (yes i was here so early that i got to watch the sunrise)

patriciooward: did you sleep at the track lol??

↳ y/n.jpg: no... but the gates may have still been locked when i got here. 🧍‍♀️

mclaren: missing you this weekend! -liked by author

user1: girl.... we saw that pic from last night...

user3: i'm feeding my delusions by thinking that lando is on the mclaren account commenting

user7: lando in the likes once again...god please let him comment again soon.

liked by patriciooward, arrowmclaren, y/bsf and 105,321 others

y/n.jpg: so incredibly proud of you today pato!!! you gave it your all and left everything out on that track. so happy i was able to come back and spend this week with the whole arrow mclaren family. always a special week and one i've missed immensely. next year is yours pato. ❤️

patriciooward: it was a bittersweet day. would have loved to win, but loved having you here this year. gracias mi amor. -liked by author

arrowmclaren: so nice to have you back y/n! you know you're always welcome!! -liked by author

landonorris: @.patriciooward you killed it out there today man. you should be proud.

↳ patriciooward: thanks lando!

user4: um lando in the comments... and commenting to pato... maybe war is over

user3: if pato and y/n don't end up together i'm gonna lose my shit

user9: still team lando y/n

may 27th, 2024

may 28th, 2024

y/n.jpg and patriciooward added to their story

y/bsf replied to your story

↳ have fun babe!! but not too much fun 😏

may 29th, 2024

may 30th, 2024

y/n.jpg and patriciooward added to their story

y/bsf replied to your story

↳ AHHHH!!! i truly love this for you!!! it's been a long time coming. 🩷

june 2nd, 2024

june 3rd, 2024

liked by patriciooward, y/bsf, logansargeant and 285,650 others

y/n.jpg: my pretty boy ❤️ (and his crab)

patriciooward: think all i need in life is you, the beach, and that crab.

↳ y/n.jpg: that thing is back in the ocean where it belongs!!!

y/bsf: FINALLY!!!!!!!

↳ y/n.jpg: 🤭

logansargeant: gonna have to come to an indycar race soon!!

↳ patriciooward: yes man! you're welcome anytime at the arrow garage!

↳ y/n.jpg: um yes!! i'm gonna i miss you the rest of the season ☹️

user2: Y/N PATO TRUTHERS WE WON!!!!

user4: they are so cute.. crazy how people find their way back to each other 🥹

user9: there is no way to be normal about this.

liked by y/n.jpg, alexanderrossi, davidmalukas and 900,402 others

patriciooward: may not have won the indy 500, but i did win with her ❤️

y/n.jpg: you big sap 🥺❤️

alexanderrossi: thank god. didn't think you two were ever going to get together.

↳ patriciooward: good things come to those who wait.

↳ alexanderrossi: since when are you philosophical??

davidmalukas: so happy for you guys! -liked by author

user4: this actually made my year. that second pic is everything 😭

user7: when does this get to happen to me?? i need me a man like pato 😩

user1: how did he bag a baddie like y/n? can you fight pato?

tag list: @daisyfreecs @mel164 @hurtblossom @the-untamed-soul @ameliaalvarez06 @ahnneyong @landotd @spideylovin @wobblymug @urfavsgf @lunamelona @sunflowervol18 @kiwi43-81 @horneybeach1 @czennieszn @dontworryboutitokie @weekendlusting @deamus-liv @lexiecamposv @nikki1dxx @eggingamazinglove @folklorelover888 @hashcakes @sarx164 @misspygmypie @ziraelmtd @sarah-thatstings-ann @gnarlycore @plotpal @formulaal @tremendousstarlighttragedy @saachiep81 @alana4610 @kissesandmartinis @green--beanie @moodymoony71 @tvdtw4ever @lottalove4evelyn

#lando norris #lando norris fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris angst #pato o'ward #pato o'ward x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris smau #formula 1 smau #pato o'ward fic #pls don't hate me bc of this ending lol #mine #writing

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1980shorrorfilm · 5 months ago

Text

dreaming about you and me

using cailee as my ellie because it just makes sense

click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.

pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader

in which…ellie moves back to jackson after a year, hoping you had waited for her.

before you read…angst. modern day fic. emo ellie. like biggg loser ellie. sad sad ellie. ellie has a cat. some bad words.

leaving the chaotic city and lousy job and miserable relationship should be exciting. being welcomed by the familiar wyoming weather, and warm embraces from joel and dina should be exhilarating.

but instead, ellie felt a vast emptiness that seemed to seep from the walls and settle deep within her. she felt alone— again.

her phone occasionally bings with an email while she waits for a text; from you. something she hasn’t received in 8 months.

not that she’s keeping count…or occasionally opens your messages to reread your happier conversations. it’s unfortunately one of the only things that helped her sleep at night, next to a girl she knew didn’t love her. not the way you do…or did.

you were friends. really really good friends.

friends that had to be invited to places together, or neither were going. friends that spent more time in each other’s bedrooms than their own. friends that slept skin to skin, no blanket being able to replicate the warmth the other gave.

friends that kissed the day ellie left; then never spoke about it again.

the occasional calls were long, and they were sweet. you asked ellie about everything and anything as she adjusted to her amazing new life.

her new place, that she was quick to inform you there’s a framed photo of you guys together on her nightstand. it’s from a summer bonfire when she had got high and used your very old camera until it ran out of storage. it's a great picture, though. you look so pretty in it, she reminds you.

she’d rant about her new job, her asshole of a boss, and her overly friendly coworker that somehow annoyed you more than her. the way she described the girl, how clingy she was to your ellie. but you would laugh it off, masking the jealousy with light-hearted jokes, daring not to show how much it truly bothered you.

then, a few weeks later, the worst had happened.

ellie suddenly had a girlfriend, and you suddenly had a broken heart.

you could only be happy for her. even if that meant your phone calls were picked up by another girl, telling you that ellie was busy. even if that meant your texts declined over time, cat memes being sent with only a laughing emoji in response. no genuine, heart-to-heart conversations. the ones you yearned for most on your loneliest nights.

and you had to be happy for ellie. even if she wasn’t for herself.

the worst part is, ellie noticed you begin to pull away, and she let you. she let you go.

now she sits here, on her cheap brown sofa, staring at the tv that has yet to be hooked up. phone in her hand, like an idiot waiting for something that’s not going to happen just because she wishes it would. she simply cannot manifest you to come back. she has to do something about it.

after seconds of contemplation, she curses to herself, grabbing the device and calling your number. which rings, and rings, and rings, up until voicemail. which she decides to leave.

“uh— hey, y/n,” she gets up, scratching the back of her neck, “im…im in jackson…for good,” she chuckles nervously, “if you want to catch up, im free the next couple of days. just let me know…um…bye.”

fucking dumbass, she thinks, ending it and dropping her phone on the couch behind her. the worst you can say is no.

ellie wished that were true.

the worst had happened, and it’s you ignoring her completely. days pass and there’s absolutely nothing from you. she hopes to see you around town, making sure she looks decent enough just to run and pick up groceries, but luck is not on ellie’s side.

a week home and she’s only seeing you in her imagination. flashbacks of the evening she left, a beautiful day before a horrid storm.

ellie is self-aware, she knows it’s pathetic to keep moving in place rather than moving on. pretending like you still care for her as she does to you, even if you have yet to communicate it.

she knows it’s wrong. and she can only mourn the idea of no longer having you for so long.

as told by joel, she should only focus on what she has control of. don’t know when he got the time to read a self-help book, but she listens to him. joel was usually right, she hates it sometimes.

he was the first one to see the sparkle in her eye when she spoke about you. even though she denied what he had thought you two were— he continued to tell her that you’re a good one, and not to screw it up.

she could only laugh about that now.

weeks pass, and her apartment feels more like a home now, unpacked with her little trinkets scattered around the place. the first damn thing she did was stick her glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling of her bedroom because you know, priorities. she likes staring at them before bed, knowing you two used to do it together. homemade star gazing, you’d tell her.

her first few days working with joel at his construction company went well. it’s tiring, she comes home feeling like she went swimming in a bucket of sweat, but it’s a nice distraction. and a nice way to keep her arms toned. the summer sun caused her freckles to multiply over her shoulders and collarbones, something you used to admire.

dina and jesse have been spending time with her, smoking at one of the lakes in jackson while sitting in the back of her red pickup truck. a playlist will play lowly from the vehicle's speakers, a few songs she only learned because of you. songs you had told her reminded you of her. she finds herself humming along, the melodies bringing back memories that carve into the center of her heart.

she came home one night, very high, and saw a stray cat digging into a plastic bag filled with garbage. without thinking twice, she crouched down and called to the cat softly. it rubbed against her, and she fell in love. she threw the garbage out and brought the little creature inside. she now has a black cat named orion. the very first constellation she taught you about amongst the many.

it’s hard, the constant reminders of you in little day-to-day things, but ellie gets passed it.

slowly, but surely, she’s finding herself; without you. it’s healthy. it’s good. she’s good.

it’s a random tuesday night when her phone vibrates while she’s getting off work, the woman pulling it out of her pocket while wiping the grim from her forehead. a message, from you.

would you wanna meet up tomorrow?

her heart beats out of her chest, leaning against the chipping paint on her truck. she can’t help it— she responds right away.

yea, is my place cool?

ellie stares at the screen, tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth, tapping her converse on the cement. when you don’t answer promptly, ellie sends another text.

we can do dinner, i can order a pizza. or a movie if you wanna.

you can probably read her tone through the screen, the desperation. but having you right there at that moment, she doesn’t care. especially when you agree— part of her not expecting you to.

ellie gets in her head, part of her convincing herself it was a date…ish…the humbling part of her telling her it was a casual hangout. it’s a win either way. she could see you for a mere minute and still be satisfied.

ellie went home that night, fed her sweet cat, and passed out on her messy bed.

with you in mind, of course.

the following day is long as fuck. she’s antsy, convincing joel to let her go early, organizing the most random shit in her apartment. you hadn’t even reached out yet, she doesn’t know when you’re gonna bless her with your presence.

she doesn’t know if you still like peppers on your pizza, but she orders it anyway. she doesn’t know if you want a romcom or a horror movie, so she finds options for both. she’s anxious, grabbing a beer from the fridge hoping it eases her somewhat.

ellie glances at her phone for the fiftieth time, worried she might have missed a text. she doesn’t. and as hours pass, she drinks more and more.

you never show up.

the full moon is up in the sky by this point. and once again, like deja vu, there is nothing from you. and it hurts.

her mind is foggy from the alcohol she occupied herself with while waiting for you, half of the untouched pizza is cold as it sits on her counter. her cat is watching her pace back and forth.

why? why would you lie to her? why would you get her hopes up after so long? she’s beyond upset. she’s pissed off. you’ve never made her feel this way.

then you text her.

can’t make it. im sorry

she huffs through her nose, shaking her head, then she calls you. which, you ignore, and you ignore again, and again. she keeps calling, she doesn’t care if she’s annoying you. in fact, she wants to. if that’s what it takes for you to acknowledge her.

it’s the tenth time when she listens to the automated voice speak to her, that she leaves a voicemail.

“hey, y/n, dunno if you remember me,” she laughs, scratching the back of her neck, “seems like you don’t. think im a stranger to you now. might as well be, you clearly don’t want to see me anymore— what the fuck —h-how could you? i-i get it, i messed up— i-i left —but im fucking trying here, y/n. and you have to make this so fucking hard for me.”

her voice is breaking, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, and despite trying to hold them back, she can't stop them from falling. “we were friends…more than friends…y-you fucking kissed me before i left…or did you forget that? d-did that mean nothing to you? why did you do that? i thought about it for months…d-did you?”

ellie’s rage shifts to pain, catching her off guard. she clenches her jaw, struggling to keep her composure, then takes a deep, shaky breath.

“i-i just miss you…i miss you so bad it fucking hurts. i came back because of you, you know that? and i haven’t even seen you— it drives me crazy. im fucking losing my mind here, y/n. all i think about is you. i wish…i wish you felt the same…i don’t know how to get over you. just tell me how to. please— i’ll leave you alone. just tell me to.”

i’ll leave you alone. just tell me to.

ellie’s soft voice cracks, you dread it. many things bother you in this universe. one of them is bearing witness to ellie breaking down and not being able to comfort her.

you were the only one that could— the only one she felt comfortable expressing herself to. except now you are the cause of it. and that is the worst feeling in the world.

you pull your phone away from your ear, turn it off, and place it face down on the table before you. your dinner is still hot and untouched, your partner’s plate mirroring yours. they took a phone call nearly ten minutes ago, an unimportant one, but they valued anything and anyone else before you.

you don’t know why you’re here…why you ditched her for them. someone you love for someone you don’t. someone who needs you for someone who barely wants you.

a place to stay? a body to keep you warm at night? a person to bring home to your family? what’s the point? she’s home. she’s here. and she’s not out of touch, she’s within your grasp, yet you won’t commit to reaching out to her. why?

“mind putting that away for me? friend needs a favor,” your partner quickly says, already out the door before you could even question them or say goodbye.

you’re alone, but you’ve felt lonely in this dim house since the day you came here.

but nothing is keeping you here. you get up, not bothering to clean up the meal you spent an hour making, throwing on a jacket and grabbing your keys.

you drive to ellie’s place. it feels long, catching every red light and driving down roads with the lowest speed limits. you don’t even know if she’ll still be awake by the time you arrive, or if she even wants to see you anymore. but you need to see her.

you lazily park on the street, letting yourself into the building and knocking rapidly on her door. you can hear muffled music playing from inside her unit, then her footsteps.

“i’ll turn it down—” ellie barely opens the door, and doesn’t look at you, not until your hand is on the wood when she attempts to close it.

when she does, her eyes are bloodshot, and she freezes in place.

“can you let me in?”

she hesitates, not because she doesn’t want to, but rather she can’t believe a drunken voicemail had you at her doorstep so damn quick. she obeys, stepping aside, unable to look away from you. you’d do the same, but you’re too distracted by her home.

the fern green color scheme that compliments it, the framed rare trading cards on her shelves, a photo of astronaut cats on her wall that you had gifted her. so many things that made her, her. very nerdy, very adorable, things. and then you look at her, absolutely desolated before you.

“i…i thought…i thought you couldn’t…” she can’t get the sentence out, scanning your face as she tries to speak. you look so so beautiful. she wishes she could forget the things she said to you, and how upset she is with you right now.

“i was worried,” you admit, “you didn’t sound okay.”

“i’m not,” she laughs, walking past you, the smell of cigarette smoke and oak hugging her body. you follow her to the couch, the woman plopping her body on it, looking up at you with doe eyes.

it’s like she’s expecting you to speak first, to address the shitty message she left you. maybe scold her, yell at her, but you don’t. you kneel before her, placing your hands gently on her knees.

“what you said…i don’t…want you out of my life, ellie,” you tell her softly, thumb rubbing the denim of her jeans, “i could never want that.”

“you have a fucking funny way of showing that,” ellie spits, laughing dryly, “i asked for one thing tonight. and you— you only came here out of pity.”

“i wanted to see you.” “no the fuck you didn’t.”

“yes i—” “jesus christ, stop lying to me,” her voice raises slightly hiding her face behind her hands as she squeezes her eyes shut. “i’m not.”

“you are!” she suddenly throws her hands forward, “l-like when you told me you loved me that night, you remember that?”

it’s the same night you kissed her, the very same moment. the one that is very clearly haunting her, as it does you. it was honest, both those three words you’ve felt for her the moment you got attached to her and the kiss you only pulled away from when you were suffocating against her lips.

neither of you wanted it to end, but it did, along with whatever your relationship was. it was killed, and it is utterly haunting you two.

you move your hands to her own, feeling how hot they are against your cold ones. you two always balanced each other out. “i do love you, els.”

”stop,” she mumbles, “please…stop.”

“i’m not lying to you,” you promise, “yea, i-i pushed you away but you moved away, ellie, you have to understand that.”

ellie is silently crying again, shaking her head, repeating the word ‘stop,’ in a hushed tone. “then you found someone, and so did i, and it got so damn complicated,” you continue, “i don’t want it to be…and i do…i do want you.”

“what?”

“i want to go back— to what we had. i want that, els, i want you.”

she stares at you through her wet lashes, afraid to speak, wondering if you mean it. or if this was a pity love confession, or if this was a cruel joke, or if this was real. any other possibility than you genuinely yearning for her the way she did you.

her head feels heavy, it’s too much.

you hold her knuckles, softly rubbing them, shifting on your knees to lean closer to her. “i need you, ellie,” you whisper, she’s heard those words before.

it was you going to a party you were anxious about. it was you watching a horrible movie you’d only tolerate with her beside you. it was you sobbing on your front porch, waiting to see her headlights in the rain. it was her telling you she was leaving this town and you behind. you needed her then, you need her now.

you push yourself forward, a hand on her cheek to dry whatever tears had wet it. she leans into your hand like her cat does when she gives it affection, wanting it to last forever. then, she feels your soft lips on her forehead, ellie sighing at the sensation.

you tell her once more, “i love you.”

it’s too good to be true.

maybe, if the timing was right, it would be real. if she never left you, if you didn’t settle for something you could hardly call a relationship, if you could just let her back in— this bittersweet moment would happen.

but that’s simply not ellie’s or your reality.

your reality is sitting at an empty kitchen table, your dinner cold, listening to her voicemail on repeat, thinking about how you could just change your mind right there and leave. to see her, tell her everything you want to. but you don’t.

you end up going to bed with a heavy heart. your partner comes home, apologizing for leaving you, holding you to sleep, making you feel loved enough that you don’t want to leave that bed.

ellie passes out with a black-and-white movie playing in the background, envisioning you there with her, trying to salvage what you two have left. telling her you love her again, reassuring her that you truly mean it, that you want her. that you two could live the life you yearn for, but you’re not, and she can’t make you.

she will wait for you.

#-🐈‍⬛#projecting onto ellie williams #probs will delete later #going to vanish now thank you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #tlou fanfic #wlw fanfic #lesbian fanfic #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams imagines #the last of us fanfic #the last of us imagine

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lovesickhughes · 14 days ago

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COLD DECEMBER NIGHT – jack hughes x reader

a/n: happy holidays! i am so sorry for the late upload, i had been with family for christmas, so i wasn’t that active, but i still had so much fun writing this and wanted to share it with you! so, i hope you enjoy! i know it’s past christmas itself, but i’m still gonna upload a few holiday-related fics to complete the series! happy reading & i hope you all have had an amazing holiday season so far!

tags: jack hughes x reader

warnings: none! just lots of kissing and cuteness! (not proofread, apologies!)

word count: 2.6k

series masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Y/n, I promise you they’re going to love you– I mean, this isn’t the first time you’re meeting them! You’ve been to plenty of games they’ve been to.” Jack assured you as he quickly jogged over to the passenger side of his car to help you carry your overnight bags and gifts for the Hughes family.

Jack and you had just arrived at his family home to spend the holiday break with his parents and two brothers for the first time. Needless to say, your nerves had skyrocketed upon your arrival. Jack was right however, this wasn’t the first time you had met the brunette’s parents– in fact, you had spent plenty of time getting to know Jim and Ellen at the times they attended the Devils’ games. However, this time, it was being spent in the house all three Hughes brothers grew up in and called home, and you would be welcoming yourself into what shaped her beloved boyfriend.

“I know, I know,” You sighed, “You just don’t get it. I feel like I’m meeting them for the first time all over again. Hell, I’ll be sleeping in their house, eating their food, living with them while we’re here– so it’s kind of a big deal.” You expressed as you continued to place present box after present box on top of one another in Jack’s arms before flinging your duffel bag over your shoulder in the process.

“Baby,” Jack pressed, his head popping out from the side of the tall stack of red, green and white wrapping paper-covered boxes, in an attempt to stop you from becoming overwhelmed. “There is nothing more that they want, other than to have you here with me and all of my family for Christmas.” He said as he looked into your eyes, a look in his own washing over to speak further without needing the use of words. “I wouldn’t bring you here if I wasn’t serious about us.”

You sigh in relief, but it’s halted when you hear the last part of Jack’s sentence and you let out a sarcastic laugh, “well, that’s reassuring.”

“C’mon, let’s go, they’re probably just about getting ready for dinner.” Jack said with a nod of his head to direct you up the sidewalk from the driveway and to the entrance to the suburban home. As your footsteps echo as you walk up the steps of the front porch to the front door, the sound of the doorknob already clicking to open catches your attention, and before you know it– you’re greeted with the excited gasp from Ellen at the reveal of her middle son and girlfriend arriving.

“Ah! My babies!” Ellen exclaimed with open arms and stepped towards you to bring you into a hug. It was what you loved most about the mother of your boyfriend; that since the day you met her, she was so inviting and warm that she really made you feel like you were accepted into the family. “How was the drive? Were the roads bad? I just pulled the lasagna out to quickly cool– you came right in time for dinner!” She rushed out as she pulled away from you and turned to exchange a hug with Jack to the best of his ability with the presents creating a barrier for him.

You let out a breath, Ellen’s warm welcome immediately calming your nerves that you had pent up on the drive up. Jack quickly slipped into the living room where a warmly lit Christmas tree stood and placed the presents you had bought around the green fir. Coming back to give his mom a proper hug, you slid your own shoes off in the meantime.

“The drive wasn’t bad, the usual– I am starving though,” Jack responded to his mom’s bombardment of questions. “Where are the boys at? I’m gonna go quickly say hi.” He asked and Ellen directed him to the basement where the two other brothers occupied themselves with the college football game that was on.

Ellen waved you to follow her and you quickly proceeded into the cozy home, placing your duffel bag by the side of the stairs to bring up later.

“So, Y/n, how have things been since I last saw you? When was it– two, three weeks ago?” She asked as she pulled out a prepared salad from the fridge, followed by a closed bottle of white wine.

You flash her a smile as you slid onto one of the barstools that was hidden under the countertop of the island, “oh, things have been good, y’know– work has been busy these last few weeks and Jack’s been in and out of the place with hockey, so we haven’t had too much time to spend together, but I’m glad we have the break to relax fully and spend together.” You smiled, all while Ellen silently opened the bottle of wine and prompted you by tilting the bottle in your direction as an offer, and you nodded while filling her in about your past few weeks. She poured you a glass of crisp, white wine and slid it in your direction to which you slid in a quick ‘thank you’ while telling her a story about something interesting that had happened at work.

“No way! Well, it seems like you are keeping yourself busy which is great. Dinner’s all ready, so we can start heading to the dining room. I’ll call the boys up.”

You nodded as you pushed yourself off of the barstool, “is there anything you need me to help with, Ellen? Any napkins or utensils that need to be placed?” You offered, feeling helpless as you saw by the presentation and smell of dinner, that she had put in hours of effort to make it look and taste delicious. But, all you received was a shake of her head and her hand placed on your shoulder as she guided you into the dining room.

Not long after, the voices of the three Hughes brothers and their father grew louder as they approached the dining room, turning the corner to reveal their three figures. You smiled to the eldest and youngest brothers respectively, saying hello and briefly asking them how they were before greeting Jim and leaning in for the hug he pulled you into. You then pulled away, finding your seat next to Jack who had already begun pulling out your chair for you.

You smile in his direction, placing a kiss on his cheek in return for his kind gesture, before you all begin conversing about the latest things that had happened in all of your lives. Everyone had devoured their meals within mere minutes of it being served, and you all stayed seated at the table, your glasses of wine and water slowly being emptied as you all conversed with one another.

Jack’s warm hand was placed on the middle of your thigh as you listened to Quinn talk about his hockey season, the brothers and their dad every so often quipping in a quick comment here and there. You attempted to stay focused as the brothers and their parents talked with one another, but the feeling of Jack’s large hand rubbing up and down your clothed leg drowned out the words being exchanged, but it wasn’t long before the sound of the dining room chair sliding against the hardwood floored pulled you out of your trance.

You followed suit, standing up out of your seat before grabbing Jack’s and your plates as well as Luke’s who was on the other side of you at the table, both boys bidding you a ‘thank you’ in appreciation for your gesture.

You smiled in return and walked towards the kitchen where Jim and Ellen stood side by side by the sink, beginning to wash the dishes. You felt Jack’s presence following closely behind your frame, and his hand reached to guide your figure by the small of your back, his touch causing heat to flush through your body.

You had placed the plates next to the piling stack before Jack’s voice could be heard throughout the entire room.

“Mom, dad, let us do the dishes tonight– you guys have done more than enough.” He exclaimed as you stood next to him, nodding in agreement as you looked at them with a hint of sympathy in your eyes.

“Okay, okay, but you know this doesn’t mean just because you did it today, you’re off the hook for the rest of your visit.” Jim chuckled both playfully and sternly as he pointed his finger at his middle child with squinted eyes, only earning Jack’s sheepish grin in response.

“Of course not, dad. C’mon, it’s the least we can do for you hosting us all for Christmas.” Jack reassured before taking his mom’s place as the drier, leaving you to finish washing the dinner plates and utensils. The parents quickly scurried off to the living room, the two other brothers already being planted on the couches, flicking through the channels on the TV to pick a movie for you all to watch.

Jack and you quietly stood in the kitchen next to each other as you finished scrubbing and drying each object. You looked over at Jack with a grin on your face as you handed him the second last plate to dry, your soapy hand quickly brushing over his own, earning in a dramatic drop of Jack’s jaw as he stepped away from you. You threw your head back in laughter at his comical response, before finishing up cleaning before unplugging the sink drain and wiping down the wet counter with a new cloth.

Jack put away the last few forks and knives in the drawer next to the stove before turning to you and reaching to pull you into his embrace. He leaned down, swiftly pulling you into a kiss as you melted into him and when you pulled away, you stared into his loving eyes, so many words being spoken through your eyes.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Jack smiled, speaking just soft enough for only you to hear.

You chuckle to yourself, “well, I’d hope so.” Earning a playful scoff and roll of the eyes from the brunette who stood opposite to you, such a warm, content and loving energy radiating off of him. You had a warm ache erupt in your heart at the feeling of such a domestic act; in the kitchen with the man you loved while spending time with his family and feeling so welcomed by his parents and siblings.

“I’m serious, Y/n.” He paused, tilting his head down lower to look further into your eyes, a grin you couldn’t stop from erupting on your face before you lifted yourself onto the tips of your toes, reaching Jack’s face to kiss him again.

You hummed into the feeling of Jack’s soft lips against yours as his large hands gripped your torso, leaving you feeling a sense of security and warmth before you were interrupted with a slow groan from a distance, stopping you from the display of affection.

“Ugh, save it for the bedroom you two, I’m for real– I don’t want to see you both all lovey dovey.” You heard Luke call as he passed through the kitchen, entering the pantry before quickly exiting back to the living room with a snack in hand.

All you could do was smile and let out a quick laugh as you finished tidying the kitchen for the next morning.

Later that night, both Ellen and Jim had found themselves to bed, leaving the three Hughes brothers and you all dispersed amongst the couches in the living room, watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas, while the electric fireplace emitted heat, creating a cozy, Christmas-y atmosphere, only furthering your feeling of adoration for the man you were with and the experience you were having.

You were tucked into Jack’s side, like a lock and key, fitting into place so effortlessly, as if you were made for his embrace. Jack, who now had changed into the matching set of pajamas you had gifted him and you, sat with his arm around your side, hand resting on your side just above your hip, and his legs stretched out in front of him on the L-shaped sofa.

While the Grinch yearned to ruin Christmas in Whoville, you couldn’t help but feel your eyes grow heavy as the warmth of Jack’s body and the fireplace spread to your own body, lulling you into a peaceful, relaxed state. Jack’s hand slowly ran up and down your side, sending little jolts of electricity through your body, but the feeling of your head rested against his chest with the background noise of the movie and quiet room, you felt your eyes grow heavier and heavier before falling into a tranquil state of slumber.

It didn’t feel like long before you felt Jack shift underneath you, indicating the movie had ended and everyone would be making their way to bed for the night, but he stilled his movements, and you could feel his gaze on you, despite your eyes still being closed– pretending to still be asleep.

“You gonna wake her up, man? She looks so peaceful.” You heard Luke say as the sound of him getting up out of his seat and walking across the room echoed throughout the space.

Jack chuckled softly, “Probably, even though it might not end well– waking her up out of her sleep.”

“You got lucky, bro– mom seriously adores her, and she really fits in with all of us. She’s a keeper.” You heard Quinn call from where he laid on the side of the couch. You had to maintain your steady breaths, in an attempt to disguise the fact that you were awake and eavesdropping on the conversation. But, you couldn’t help but feel your heart lovingly ache at the comment from Jack’s older brother.

“I know,” Jack said softly, his hand reaching to the side of your face, brushing a stray hair out of your face, “I got so incredibly lucky. I really think this is it– like, she’s the one.” And you had to carefully bite the inside of your lip to stop yourself from letting out a wail in disbelief that you had gotten so lucky. You couldn’t hold your disguise any longer, so as best as you could, you slowly shifted in your spot, legs rubbing each other and arms stretching as you tried to sell your performance.

“Well, look who’s awake.” Jack chuckled as you looked up to meet his tired, blue eyes. You only smiled, before sitting up straight next to Jack while his hand fell to your hip as he gripped it softly.

“Alright, well, I’m gonna head to bed– night guys,” Luke said, giving a salute to the rest of you in the living room before exiting to the stairs for the night, and it wasn’t long before Quinn followed.

Jack then pushed off of his knees to stand, turning off the fireplace and TV, and began to walk towards the stairs to his room, but your voice stopped his movements.

“Wait, babe,” You called out, and Jack turned to you, eyebrows raised and lips pursed as he waited for you to continue. You stood slowly, walking over to the brunette before quickly slipping your hand into his, “I heard your little conversation just now…” You teased, earning a blush warming Jack’s face as he realized your confession.

“You did?” He questioned, pulling you closer to his frame, his hands interlocking behind the small of your back.

You hummed, “mhm… you really mean what you said?” You asked softly, barely audible.

Jack didn’t respond, only reaching down to place a slow, soft kiss on your lips.

When he pulled away, his forehead resting on yours, he continued, “of course I did, my love, and I’m serious– you’re it for me.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #nhl x reader #nhl blurb #nhl fic #nhl imagine #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x y/n

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

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Meet the Family 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: um I woke up to this in my head. Sorry.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You honk your horn as another driver slowly veers toward the line. You’re not letting them in. If they can’t weave in, then they aren’t fast enough to leave the slow lane. You sigh and gesture at them as kindly as you can in that instant. You have enough going on.

Your phone starts to ring. Again. You tap the button on your steering wheel to answer. You would know who it is even without his custom ringtone. Your boss allows no space for breathing, even on a call.

“How far out are you, pixie?” Lloyd asks as you growl and lean on the gas pedal. You hate driving on the highway, especially at night, and the sky is steadily dimming.

“Close,” you assure him. “Next exit,” you flip your blinker on.

“Thank god. You got everything?”

Yeah, everything you forgot. You don’t give the dry retort aloud. You know better. Where your boss has no filter to be found, you find yourself often censoring yourself. As much for his ego as for others’. Arguing never gets you anywhere.

“I believe so--”

“You believe or you do?” He asks impatiently.

“Mr. Hansen, I got everything on the list,” you assure him. “All with a bow on top.”

“A life saver, pix, I swear,” he praises, but a compliment from him is rarely genuine, more transactional. You did him a favour so he’ll give you a treat.

“Alright, I need to get over, ramp’s coming up. So--”

“Yeah, yeah,” his ends rustles and you hear a muffled female voice, “I got shit going on too. You got the address, text me.”

He hangs up first. You can never be the first to end the call. He has to make the decisions. You just know how to guide him to the right one. You merge into the exit lane and follow the ramp away from the whirring stream of headlight. Finally.

You’re less than pleased to be within minutes of your destination. This isn’t how you envisioned your holiday. A last-minute itinerary change to fix yet another of Mr. Hansen’s oversights. It’s never a mistake, he’s just a man with so much going on that it slipped his radar. Another bandage for his ego.

The slower pace feeds your agitation. At least on the highway, you felt like you were getting somewhere. The lazy roll of the cars in the town tweaks at the nape of your neck. You just want to be in one place and that won’t happen even when you get to Mr. Hansen.

You’ll be lucky to have two hours of sleep before you have to catch your rebooked flight. Yep. You’ll play Santa and drop off your lot before hiding at the hotel long enough to dread the airport jungle. Then it’s off to your own familial obligations. Those are rarely enjoyable and being a day later than promised will hardly please your mother.

Your phone announces your arrival at the destination. The long drive of the over-sized suburban mansion is full. You park on the street and turn on the interior light. You get out and open the back seat. The whole medley of shiny paper and quaffed bows stares back at you.

You text Mr. Hansen and wait, huffing and puffing with impatience. Of course, you have to upheave your plans to meet his deadlines, but he’s taking his time. It’s not a surprise, not even a disappointment, you expected as much.

“Pixieee,” Lloyd drags out the last syllable, “there you are, pretty pixie.”

Pretty Pixie? He’s drunk or he’s going to ask for something else. You brace yourself as his shadow struts up the long driveway and passes beneath the cone cast by the tall street lights. Coloured lights glimmer over him from the eaves of the surrounding facades.

“Mr. Hansen, wrapped, labelled, everything you requested,” you gesture to the backseat.

“An angel. A true saviour, pixie,” he surprises you as he grabs your head, his palms pressing to your cheeks as he bends to kiss your forehead, “did I ever tell you you’re immaculate?”

“Mr. Hansen,” you gently pull his wrists until he drops his hands. You smell the alcohol radiating off of him.

“It’s the holiday, call me Lloyd, sweet cake,” he insists.

“Right,” you tut and turn to drag out the largest gift bag, “here, you better just take all this, I have to check-in--”

“About that,” he ignores the gift as you hold it out. “We’re just about to start dinner, you should pop in, have a bite.”

“I can’t, Mr. Hansen--”

“Of course you can,” he insists. You look up at him. His eyes gleam in the spectrum of lights shining from your car, the houses, and the tall poles. You sniff. He’s only tipsy, there’s still the hint of authoritarianism firmly implanted in his tone. “I told everyone you would.”

“Everyone?” You echo anxiously.

“The family,” he exclaims as if it should be obvious.

“Okay, I can come say hello but--” you wiggle the bag at him.

“Damn right you can,” he catches your hand and takes the bag. He drops it on the ground carelessly.

“Mr. Hansen, that’s fragile,” you say.

“Shhhh,” he grabs your hand and you curl and unfurl your fingers desperately, “Lloyd, remember?” He feels around in his pocket as he keeps you in his vice, “now, you just need to slip this on.”

He struggles to line up the ring with your finger as you squirm in confusion. What is he doing?

“Mr. Han--”

“Lloyd,” he growls, all humour trickling away. He squeezes until you whimper. “Look, I just need you to smile and bat those long lashes of yours, alright?”

“What’s going on?”

“As far as anyone knows, I proposed to you on Thanksgiving,” he says.

“Proposed?!” You nearly shriek.

He hushes you again and finally rams the ring down to your knuckle. “Look, pixie, mommy’s being a real pain in my ass so you just need to play along.”

“Mr.--”

“If I have to tell you one more time--”

“Lloyd,” you gulp, “please. I... this is... strange. What? Why? I have a flight in eight hours.”

“Cancel it,” he sneers. “Double time and a half for holiday overtime. See the family in the New Year.”

“What? That’s-- This is insane--”

“This is your job, honey,” he clings to your hand. “To do what I say or you can spend your January trawling the job boards.” He squeezes until the band digs into your flesh. “Now, I know Mr. Walker thinks you’re darling and he offered you a role last year but once I tell him about your little defiance issue, I don’t think he’ll be interested--”

“Huh?”

“I know a lot more than you think,” he grits. “Alright? So let’s start getting this shit inside. That’ll give you a chance to get yourself together.”

“Lloyd,” you gasp. “Why--”

“No more fucking question. Since when did you get so uppity,” he barks.

“Sir--”

“Ah, none of that, either,” he lets you go and waggles his finger in your face. “Relax. Have some eggnog when we get inside and take the edge off.”

“This can’t be happening,” you murmur.

“It’s fucking happening, alright?” He picks up the bag off the ground. “I keep you around ‘cause you’re quick on your feet, Pix, so let’s get to it.”

“Oh god,” you utter.

“Keep it to yourself,” he warns.

Your disbelief has you a bit dumb. You’re panicking. He knows you have an insurance policy with Walker and you have no doubt he’ll do all he can to spoil your future if you fuck around with his present. You’ve worked long enough for him to believe his threats, even when everything else is dubious.

You turn and grab several gifts from the backseat. You move out of his way and he gathers some more himself. He backs up and uses his knee to close the door. He nods you toward the house.

“Smile, act like you’re excited,” he commands.

You pass him and stare up at the blaze of holiday lights. The lawn is decorated with a Santa and sleigh, complete with all his reindeer. You make the march up the walk and towards the glowing windows that trim the front door.

Lloyd comes up next to you and kicks it, “open up.”

It isn’t long before obedience appears from the other side. You do a double take at the man who answers the door. He looks a lot like Lloyd but not. He doesn’t sport the same bristly stache and his hair neatly combed, the sides unshaved but tidy. He rolls his eyes.

“Was hoping you got lost in the snow,” the man scoffs.

“Shut up,” Lloyd shoulders through, “always a fucking prick, Hugh.”

The other man snarls, “don’t fucking call me that.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, baby boy,” Lloyd puts the gifts on the bench against the wall, under the large mirror with an elaborate frame. “Why don’t you go suck on mommy’s teat?”

“You’re disgusting,” the other man, Hugh, hisses.

“Speak for yourself. We’re the OnlyFans thot? She not joining us?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Fuck you, fuck me, we already did this, remember?” Lloyd faces him.

“And who’s this slut?” The man tosses you a sharp glare.

“Woah, man, that’s my future wife,” Lloyd lies so easily it startles you. He sounds almost genuine and you’ve never heard him sound like that. “Not a slut, so keep your eyes and your hands to yourself.”

“Huh, I didn’t believe it,” the man puts his hand on his hip as he looks you up and down, “she’s tiny.”

You narrow your eyes, speechless as they talk about you like a new lamp.

“Ransom,” Lloyd gestures to him derisively, “Pixie. Now you’ve met so you can skedaddle back to the liquor cabinet.”

The man, Ransom, snickers, “good luck, sweetheart,” he scoffs. “If you need a drink, just look for me. You probably will. At least for the next forty years.”

He struts off through the archway behind him and you look at Lloyd. He takes the armful of gifts from you and grumbles. He stops and crosses his arms.

“Well, get your boots off. Mom will kill you if you’re tracking salt all over her freshly polished floors,” he shakes his head. “And a bit of advice, stay away from my cousin. Ransom’s a fucking pest.”

“Right, sir.”

He tilts his head and you show your palms, “Lloyd.”

“Good girl,” he says and slips free of his loafers. “Now, you’re going to have to meet my parents before anyone else or I won’t hear the end of it. I’ve already got an earful. I know I shoulda booked that resort...”

You unzip your boots and set them aside on the rack. You stand and he beckons you past the open archway and down the hallway. You take in the decor; gold on beige on ivory. It’s all very luxurious.

He pushes through a white birch door and warmth enshrines you along with the smell of turkey. There’s a clattering beneath a shrill voice snapping out orders, “oh, not mashed, whipped!”

A tall blonde woman crosses her arms as she hovers like a vulture over the aproned staff crowded around the large marble island. Lloyd grabs your hand and drags you after him. Your socks slip on the tile as dread coils up your limbs.

“Mom, she’s here,” he announces as he gets close to her.

“Ugh, about time, they already set the table and I was dreading the empty plate,” she slithers. She turns her chin down to see you, “Oh, look at her. She’s so... petite.” She levels her hand with the top of your head, “much different than I envisioned.”

You look at Lloyd as he pushes his shoulders back. You’ve never heard anyone talk to him like that and you’ve never seen him so uptight. You turn your attention back to the woman.

“Hello, Mrs. Hansen, it’s nice to meet you,” you offer your hand.

She considers it then grabs it, turning the ring up. You examine the jewel as she does the same, your first glimpse at the thing. She harrumphs, “that’s the ring?”

“Mom,” Lloyd utters.

“Mm, very well. Dear, you may call me Gwenyth, not Mrs. Hansen,” she lets you go. “Now, dear son, out of my way. I’m trying to get dinner done.”

Lloyd stares at her, almost expectantly, the takes your hand again and leads you away. He pulls you back through the door. You don’t dare say a word. He leads you away from the kitchen and the wall of voices buzzing from the front room. He guides you through the archway opposite and around to another door.

He knocks and there’s a lull as you wait. He taps again. There’s coughing from the other side. “What do you want?”

“Just me, Dad,” Lloyd answers.

“Ugh, get in here then,” the timbre calls back.

Lloyd twists the knob and urges you in ahead of him. The smell of cigar smoke blows in with the cold wind. A gray-haired man puffs by the window, his efforts to puff through the opening sabotaged by the wintry gusts.

“Close the door. I don’t need the banshee sniffing me out,” he growls.

“Sure,” Lloyd shuts the door. “Dad, uh, this is her. The woman I told you about. My fiance.”

“Took you long enough,” the man sneers. You flinch and his grey eyes soften, “him, I mean. Forty-three years--”

“Dad,” Lloyd rasps.

“Well,” his father looks you over, “she’s young. Bit small...”

You do your best not to let your annoyance show. So you’re a little shorter than average.

“William,” he introduces himself, “and you are?”

“Pixie,” Lloyd answers for you.

“Didn’t ask you, boy,” William rebukes and keeps his eyes on you. “You smoke?”

You mull his question and sigh, “never tried it but I guess it’s never too late to start.”

William snorts, “truer words.” He puffs, “I don’t recommend it. Horrible habit.” He tamps out the stogie in a copper tray. “Well then, is the food ready, or did you just come to show me your woman?”

Lloyd stiffens and touches your lower back, “guess I just came to do that.” He mutters, “come on, let’s go get something to drink.” He turns and opens the door.

“Don’t let the smoke out,” William snips as you spin around.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the gray man #dark!lloyd hansen

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