#you've got a great voice but your face is hard for me to put onto paper | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

macabrebatz · 19 days ago

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HOW YOU MET THE SLASHERS PT. 2

Author's Note: Hello, everyone! I'm currently moving some of my old fanfiction onto here. These one-shots/drabbles are old (some are far older than others) so some of the writing is very short and in my opinion, not as great as some of my more recent stuff. But I have a soft spot for all of this since I know my younger self was working hard lol. So here’s a mini collection of my old “How You Met” series.

Characters: Brahms Heelshire, Otis Driftwood, Tiffany Valentine, Jack Torrance, Pavi Largo, Art the Clown, Billy Lenz, Luigi Largo, Will Graham

Warning/tags: Canon typical violence mentioned, occasional use of (Y/N) (I tried to get rid of some but there's still a few), not beta read

Word count: 6.1k

Brahms Heelshire:

You were hired by the Heelshires to take care of their son. When you arrived at the home you were shocked to find a doll instead of an actual person. You decided to shake off the strangeness of the situation.

You followed every rule. You were getting paid so being in a spooky situation wasn't going to deter you away from a good paycheck.

After a couple of weeks, things started to get more strange. A couple of your t-shirts had gone missing, leftover food disappeared, and you could have sworn you heard footsteps walking on the creaky wooden floor at night.

One night you heard a knock. It was faint but it didn't go unnoticed. You got out of bed and put your ear up to the wall. You could hear shuffling.

"Someone's in the house," you thought to yourself.

You made your way to the bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway. The door to Brahms's room was closed. You could've sworn you left it open.

Stepping closer to the door, you gently placed your hand on the nob. You turned it quickly, opening the door. And there he was.

A grown man sat on the end of Brahms's bed. He had a mess of black hair on top of his head and his face was covered by what appeared to be a porcelain mask. You squinted your eyes. The mask resembled the face of the doll that you had grown fond of taking care of. No, it can't be.

You stepped back in shock. Fear and confusion clouded your mind. You wanted to run but your legs were frozen.

"Please don't be scared," the man pleaded.

The voice was gentle and soft. Your mouth fell agape.

"Brahms?" you questioned, stuttering his name.

The man nodded his head.

"So...you are alive."

Otis Driftwood:

You lived down the street from the Firefly family for years so you've known Otis early on. As you got older you started to stay over at their house. Baby Firefly was your best friend and she could tell that you had a crush on her brother.

"You know he likes you too," Baby said as you sat behind her, braiding her curly hair.

"I highly doubt that," you mumbled.

Every time you came over, Otis would shut himself in his room. He never seemed to even be remotely interested in you.

You finished Baby's braid and she turned around to face you.

"Don't believe me? Go talk to him," Baby insisted.

"Go talk to him? About what? We've barely ever spoken to each other," you said.

She took you by the hand without saying anything, dragging you upstairs. The two of you busted through Otis' door uninvited. He sat there watching an episode of The Munsters.

"What the fuck are you two doing in here?" he said aggravated.

You turned to leave but Baby caught you by the arm, pulling you back.

"We want to watch TV since there‘s not one downstairs," Baby said, flopping down on Otis' bed.

You stood there, looking down at your feet.

"Gonna stand there all day or are you gonna sit?" Otis asked, peering up at you.

You hesitantly sat down on the bed by Baby.

"I'm going to go get something to drink," Baby said, hopping back up from the bed.

Before you could insist on going with her, she was gone, leaving you seated by Otis.

"She's not coming back," Otis mumbled.

"Oh, then I probably should go after her," you said.

"Nope. You're watching TV with me," Otis said.

It sounded like an offer, not just a statement.

You nodded your head and sat watching TV with Otis for the rest of the night.

Tiffany Valentine:

You sat down in one of the last couple of seats in the movie theater. It was late at night, 11:45 to be exact. Every year on Halloween night you found yourself sitting in this theater, patiently waiting to watch the annual midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Most years, you would have had someone come with you. Your friends usually would tag along. But this year you were alone. You didn't exactly mind. The energy of the other Rocky Horror fans made up for it.

You had a small bucket of popcorn sitting in your lap, along with a grab bag full of props. The theater would pass them out since audience participation was always encouraged at the showings. You took a sip from your drink and sat it back down in the cup holder on the seat. Glancing around, you took note of how full the theater was. Almost every seat was filled, besides a few seats here and there. One of those empty seats was right beside you.

"Hi, may I sit there?" a voice asked beside you.

Looking up, you saw a woman with wavy blonde hair. She wore a black leather jacket with a bustier underneath, along with tight black pants.

"Oh, of course," you said.

She sat down beside you.

"Thank you," she said with a smile.

"You're welcome."

"If I would've known the theater was going to be packed I would have left home sooner," she said.

"I got here just in time as well," you said with a chuckle.

"I'm Tiffany, by the way."

She reached out her hand and you shook it. You told her your name and smiled.

After the movie had ended you found yourself walking out of the theater with Tiffany, talking about movies as the two of you made your way to your respective vehicles.

“It was good talking to you,” she said, slipping a small piece of paper in your hand.

You looked down at the tiny note, which had her phone number scribbled on it.

“Give me a call sometime,” she said with a wink.

You watched the blonde saunter away to her car before hastily adding her number to the contacts in your phone.

Jack Torrance:

"Is this seat taken?"

You turned to see a tall man who looked rather scruffy. His eyes were dark and there was some red puffiness around his eyelids.

"Nope," you said, offering him the seat.

The bar was rather empty. Only a few stragglers were inside, including you. You needed a late-night drink. Something to clear your mind. Or fog it up. You just needed to forget.

The man beside you ordered a Scotch and didn't hesitate to drink it down quickly.

"What brings you here?" he asked.

He then ordered another drink. This time he asked the bartender to just leave the bottle. Either he was going through a tough time or he was just an alcoholic.

"I had a bad day. Needed a drink," you said, "What about you?"

The man was silent for a bit as if he was struggling to answer.

"Divorce," he stated simply.

His voice was quieter than before. It seemed as if the divorce was rather fresh. His face dropped a bit and he looked as if he wanted to throw his glass across the bar.

Hesitantly, you patted him on the shoulder. It was a kind gesture. You didn't need to know the details. You could tell that this man was hurting. His outward expression was one of anger, but somewhere deep down you could tell that he was upset.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly.

"Don't be. It was a long time coming," he said.

A long time coming. You could say the same thing about your current situation.

You had just cut ties with your ex. A part of you was relieved. The other part of you was enraged that you hadn't ended things sooner. But now it was time to move on to new and better things. And why not start by making a new friend? You took a sip of your drink and then turned in your seat towards the man.

"I'm (Y/N), by the way," you said, sticking out your hand.

"I'm Jack," he said, shaking your hand.

Pavi Largo:

You had known Pavi for a little over a year. You had worked with Amber Sweet before, making her dresses and personalized latex corsets, and she had introduced you to him.

After that, Pavi soon fell in love with your talent and hired you as the entire Largo family's official personal stylist. The last one had to take a personal leave after a violent encounter with Pavi's brother, Luigi. You on the other hand found your job to be much safer than anticipated. You knew beforehand that taking a job working for any member of the Largo family would be a risk. But after a few months passed you started to have fun.

"My sister wants you to make this," Pavi said, entering your workshop.

He opened up a magazine and sat it on your desk, revealing a model in a latex mini dress. You walked over from your workstation and went over to the desk, picking up the magazine.

"She's really getting obsessed with latex and vinyl, isn't she?" you mumbled, taking a closer look at the picture.

For the past two months, almost everything Amber had asked you to make was made from shiny black vinyl, PVC, and leather.

"Almost as obsessed as she is with going under the knife," Pavi laughed.

You glanced up at Pavi, taking a good look at the woman's face he wore as a mask. You squinted your eyes as you noticed the skin was starting to look rather splotchy.

"Pavi, you need a new mask," you said.

"No, I don't," he said, sitting down in a chair in front of your desk.

"I think you do," you insisted.

He simply shrugged and put his legs up, resting his feet on your desk. You sighed as you watched him do so.

"You can go now."

"And why would I do that? It's much more fun in here watching you work," Pavi said.

Pavi had a habit of doing this. He'd come in with a minor request and then find an excuse to stay. It didn't bother you all that much but today was a busy day. You were making two outfits for Amber, a suit for Luigi, and a dress for some guest who would be arriving at Gene-Co for an event.

You didn't have the time to entertain him.

"I have to work, Pavi," you said sternly.

"Take a break. Talk to me," he said, pouting his faux face.

"I don't have time."

"Alright...alright. But may I make another request?"

You rolled your eyes. There was already so much work to be done in such little time.

"Yes," you said.

He stood up and walked over to you. His hand reached up and caressed your face, grazing over your skin.

"Come with me tonight and help me find a new face," he said.

It wasn't much of a request. It was much more of a statement. A demand.

You nodded your head in agreement.

"Consider it a date," he said with a smile.

Art the Clown:

It was the middle of the night on Halloween. You stumbled on your feet as you made your way down the sidewalk. The air was proceeding to get colder as time passed.

You weren't sure what time it was. Your cell phone had died hours ago at the Halloween party you had left.

You couldn't drive home. You were far too intoxicated to do that. Plus, you didn't have a car of your own. Your friend had picked you up before the party. When you went to leave the party there was no sign of her or the car. Figuring that your friend had ditched you for a late-night hookup, you decided to tread back to your house.

Your outfit wasn't providing much warmth either. The clown costume you had picked for the Halloween costume was cute but it was made out of thin fabric. Cursing to yourself, you looked around.

Across the street from you was a pizza restaurant. The open sign still glowed and the lights were on inside.

"I could go for some food," you thought to yourself.

You walked across the street and entered the restaurant. A feeling of warmth cascaded over you as you stepped in.

"Welcome! Great costume! What can I get you?" a man greeted you from behind the counter.

He was heavier set with tan skin and dark hair that was slicked back with styling gel.

You looked over the multiple options of pizza behind the glass of the counter. You ordered a slice of your favorite pizza and sat down at a booth.

As you ate, you heard the bell on the door chime. Glancing up, you noticed a tall figure dressed in a white and black clown suit with an alternating pattern. His face was painted white, and his face was covered in what you assumed to be prosthetics. In his hand, he carried a black bag.

For just a second, you forgot it was Halloween, and a chill ran up your spine. The feeling disappeared quickly as you assumed he was in a similar situation as you. Either going to or coming from a Halloween party.

The stranger sat down at the booth closest to the door without ordering anything.

"May I help you?" the man at the counter asked the clown.

There was no answer; the clown just looked away.

You decided to ignore it and continued to eat your pizza. It was Halloween after all. All types of people were bound to be lurking around.

As you ate, you couldn't help but feel a strange sensation. Goosebumps were forming on your neck. You glanced over to the clown. He was staring at you. Almp began to form in your throat and a part of you couldn't help but stare back. You couldn't tell if you were scared or just annoyed that someone was staring at you while you ate.

You decide to wave at him. A small gesture to break the ice. He smiled back at you.

You turned back to your food and finished your pizza rather quickly. The clown's smile wasn't necessarily a comforting one. You went to get up from your booth and couldn't. A small gasp left your mouth as you looked up. The clown stood in front of you, peering down as he blocked you from exiting. You hadn't even noticed him get up or walk over.

He put up his finger, gesturing for you to hold on. With a few dramatized miming motions, he reached into his bag and slowly pulled out a flower. He held up a singular rose, and you hesitantly took it.

"Um…thank you," you said quietly, smiling a little.

He tipped his hat and walked away, leaving the shop. It wouldn't be the last time you saw the mysterious clown.

Luigi Largo:

The repossession of organs was a regular occurrence in the city. By the year 2052, everyone's body seemed to begin to fail. Organ transplants and regular cosmetic surgery became the norm. Hell, even you had had a few organ transplants yourself to save yourself from an early death.

And with the new way of life, a new set of rules had to be made. Organs were now a rental property. If you didn't pay, they could be repossessed. You understood the rule, and you never missed a payment. Even when you didn't have the money, you still found a way to have the cash by the time payment was due.

You were good at keeping your payments, but you couldn't say the same about other people. When Gene-Co came knocking on your door months ago, you didn't know what to expect. It's not every day that Rotti Largo comes down to talk to civilians. You had seen him and his children on TV. His daughter was around your age. They lived a glamorous life, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to know that they were a mess.

Rotti offered you a job that day. He wanted to hire you as an assassin. There were fuzzy details about the current Repo-Man betraying his trust. He mentioned that it was good money and an easy way for you to pay off your organ payments. He even said that the company would give you grace periods to pay. Blah. Blah. Blah. Long story short, he wanted you to be his new "Repo-man".

At the time you weren't fond of the idea. Not many people lived through repossession. It essentially would kill a person each time. Also, really? The company that was paying you would just be getting the money back from you anyway. It didn't make much sense.

But that was months ago.

The past version of you would be absolutely disgusted with the present version of you.

Oh well.

Currently, you had your hand shoved into a man's chest. Normally you would have brought someone like this back to your home. It was much easier to cut the entire chest open to retrieve a heart. But you didn't have time for that right now. You were on the clock.

You had tracked this guy down as quickly as possible once you had realized you were late for drop-off. You had quickly stunned him, causing him to pass out.

And now he would never wake up because you were elbow-deep in his chest. You carefully pulled out the man's heart. You didn't care too much about properly cutting arteries. If Gene-Co didn't care about the condition of the heart then why should you? They just wanted to be able to cross a name off their list.

You placed the heart in a bag and then in your small ice cooler. Looking down at the guy you couldn't help but feel sorry. If only he had kept up with his payments. You started making your way down the streets.

You had on a respirator and tinted goggles. Not only did it help with keeping your identity sealed but it also helped protect you from the ungodly amount of pollution. The air was so thick with smog that it always looked like as if there was a haze of smoke in the air. You hadn't seen the stars in years. Just the cloudy light from the moon.

You remember your mom telling you what it was like when she was your age. She had been born in the early 2000s. She turned 18 around 2020. Your mom had grown up in a rural area, full of green fields and forests full of trees. You could tell that it made her sad.

None of that existed anymore.

Her home had been replaced with parking lots and skyscrapers. By the time she had you, she was 30, and there wasn't much grass left in America. Not many trees either. Most plants were grown in greenhouses now. They wouldn't survive the outside conditions. Now you were in your twenties, and you wished your mom had gotten pregnant sooner. You wished you hadn't had to grow up in a time where Earth had been wiped of nature and replaced with chaos.

As you walked down the sidewalk, you could see the glowing Gene-Co sign from down the street, looming over the city. It felt as if a giant eye was watching over you.

Although you worked for them, you didn't know much about the Largo family. You just knew what you saw on TV and the news. And based on what you heard, the family was nothing short of dysfunctional. You had never met any of them other than the patriarch, Rotti Largo. Your business was usually with Genterns and receptionists, not the Largo family.

You entered Gene-Co, pushing past the big glass doors. The building was an odd combination of a hospital and a business. On some floors, there would be operating rooms and Genterns. On other floors, offices and meeting rooms. You reached the front desk and looked at the blonde Gentern behind it.

God, you hated their uniforms.

The red visors and scrubs that looked like a mini dress bothered you for some reason. Maybe it was the fact that you always got a face full of their rear ends that irked you.

"Delivery," you said behind your mask.

She picked up her desk phone and pressed a couple of buttons.

"The repossession delivery is here," she said to the person on the other end of the line. She nodded her head and hung up the phone.

"You know where to go. They'll buzz you in," she said.

You walked away from the desk and made your way down the hall, entering a back room. It looked like a loading dock but was used for organ storage. And by the looks of it, very poor organ storage. The room wasn't even cold. No wonder people's organs were still useless after surgery.

As you walked past the shelves of unkept organs, you heard a group of voices arguing.

"What the hell?" you thought to yourself.

You knew it couldn't be Genterns arguing. These were two masculine voices.

You turned the corner of shelves and saw two men in suits arguing as Genterns looked on.

"You think you could run this company? Are you mad?"

"The only mad person here is you! God, look at you! You think that fake face looks good on you?"

You then realized who the men were. You recognized them from the news. The Largo brothers.

One had medium-length black hair and wore what appeared to be the face of a woman. The other man's shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a chest full of scars. In his hand was a knife. It took you a second to remember their names.

Pavi and Luigi.

"Ahem," you coughed.

Everyone turned to look at you as if you weren't supposed to be there.

"Ah, is this our new Repo-man," Pavi said.

"I've been working for this company for months. I'm not new. Here," you said, handing the heart-filled cooler to the closest Gentern.

"You're new to us," Luigi said, stepping closer as he buttoned up his shirt.

He circled around before stopping right in front of you.

"What's this for?" he said, tapping his knife on your respirator.

"To filter out pollution," you said. Honestly, what type of question was that?

"And these?" he asked, poking at your goggles. His fingerprint smudged the lenses, causing you to have to take them off and clean them.

"I wear them so I don't have to make eye contact with people. Thanks a lot for messing them up," you said, frustrated.

"You're welcome," Luigi said.

He walked away from you, going to stand back by his brother.

"Well, goodbye. I'm sure you have more repossessions to do," Pavi said, smiling.

You stuck out your hand, waiting for the Gentern to pay you.

"What do you want now?" Luigi asked.

"This is the part where a Gentern normally pays me," you said, annoyed.

"Oh, I got you covered this time," Luigi said, walking back over to you. He took out a wad of cash, and you could tell it was way more than your usual pay. You expected him to go through it, but he just sat all of the money in your hand.

"Wait, this is too muc-"

"Keep the change," Luigi said, winking at you.

Billy Lenz:

You slumped onto the couch as you listened to music. It was Christmas break, and the rest of the people in your (fraternity/sorority) had gone home to their families. Only you and a couple of the other members had decided to stay for the holidays. You were left alone in the house while the other members left to go to the bar.

The music played at a low volume and echoed throughout the house. You closed your eyes as you listened to it, droning off as you finally began to relax. The past few weeks had been stressful due to finals, but now all the tests were finally over. It was also the first time you had been alone in months. You could feel the weight of the tension leaving your body. It was a great feeling that you hadn't felt in a while. It wasn't often that you could just sit down and relax.

Just as you began to get comfortable, the house phone rang.

"Damn it," you mumbled to yourself.

You got up and walked into the foyer of the house, picking up the phone with a sigh.

"Hello?" you said. Instead of an answer, you were met with fuzzy garbling.

Strange noises came through the phone. Screams and whispers flooded through the phone.

"Hello?" you said, again, getting more frustrated.

"Billy...." a voice said, drawing out the syllables.

"There's no Billy here. You've got the wrong number?"

"What are you doing, Billy?" the voice whispered with a growl.

"You got the wrong number, man. Goodbye," you said, hanging up the phone.

"What the hell was that?" you thought.

You gritted your teeth as you went to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass, you began to pour yourself something to drink. As you did so, you heard a creak upstairs. Your head shot up. You were on edge due to the strange phone call, but you decided to brush off the feeling. The (fraternity/sorority) was old and would sometimes creak in the middle of the night. You were sure that was all it was. Your nerves, plus the old house, were just not getting along.

You went back to the living room and turned up the music in an attempt to get back to your relaxed state. Right before you sat down, the phone rang again. You paused for a second, contemplating whether you should answer it.

You took a deep breath and made your way back into the foyer, picking up the phone slowly and bringing it up to your ear.

"Hello?" you said.

This time you could tell your voice was more frustrated. And your frustration got worse as you heard the caller on the other end. Once again, you were met with more grumbles, screams, moans, and whispers.

"Hey, man. I don't know who you are, but stop calling this number!" you said. You slammed the phone back down on the receiver.

Almost on cue, you heard a creak come from upstairs again. This time, you could hear it more clearly. It sounded like the floorboard creaking under the weight of someone's foot.

A shiver ran up your spine as you were suddenly struck with a dreadful feeling of fear.

"Who's there?" you called out. Maybe it was just one of the members of the (fraternity/sorority). Maybe they had come home from the bar while you were in the kitchen.

"Guys, are you home?" you asked. You hadn't moved from the foyer, too scared to even budge. Your eyes were glued to the stairs of the house.

Suddenly the phone rang again, causing you to jump at the sudden noise. You turned away from the stairs and brought your attention back to the phone.

"Look, man. You're really starting to piss me off," you said.

"What are you talking about, (Y/N)?" a familiar voice said on the other side of the line.

It was your mom.

"Jeez, I'm sorry mom. Hi, how are you?" you greeted, taking a sigh of relief.

"I'm fine. I could ask the same about you. Why'd you answer the phone like that?" she asked.

"The house has been getting some weird phone calls, and I'm the only one at home right now. I'm just a little scared is all," you explained.

"Have you called the police to see if they can track the number?"

"No, I don't think it's that serious," you answered.

"Well, please be safe. I was just calling to check up on you and tell you we miss you," she said.

"I miss you too. I'll see you guys once spring break rolls around," you said.

"Okay. And (Y/N)...." Your mom trailed off a bit.

"Yeah?"

"Please be safe," she said.

"I will. Bye, Mom. I love you."

You hung up the phone putting it back on the receiver. You turned back to the stares and let out a gasp. Your body was tackled to the ground and suddenly you were struggling to breathe. You looked up and saw a man with brown hair and a dark green sweater.

His hands were around your throat and your breath was becoming more and more restricted. You clawed at his hands and kicked your legs.

After missing a couple of times, your knee hit the man in the groin, causing him to loosen his grip. You then raised your legs, kicking him back with both of your feet. The man fell back, giving you enough time to get back on your feet. You quickly grabbed the heaviest thing around you which just so happened to be a weighted candlestick sitting on the foyer table.

The man stumbled back to his feet. You gripped the candlestick, just waiting for an excuse to use it.

"Who are you?" you asked.

He smirked, and his eyes glanced over at the house phone on the foyer table.

The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning. The mysterious caller was in the house standing right in front of you.

"Man, you got a lot of explaining to do."

Will Graham:

You tapped your fingers on the desk while you waited for Jack Crawford. The door to his office had been open, so you were sure he would return soon. On his desk sat a stack of folders and papers.

If you weren't in a professional setting, you might have not resisted the urge to snoop. But alas, this was your work setting, and you had a great level of respect for Jack. Your eyes pried away from the papers and looked elsewhere around the empty office.

Over the past month, you had been hospital-bound after a nearly fatal encounter with an active shooter. You were just a criminal investigator. And all though you had a firearm on you constantly, most of the time you didn't need it. Crime suspects rarely came back to the scene of the crime. But this one did, and he had pulled out his own gun before you had time to react.

You were shot four times and, you were lucky to be alive. After a grueling recovery phase, you thought it was about time you got back to work.

"I expected you to be home, (Y/N)," a voice said from behind you.

You turned around in your seat. Jack stood at the doorway of his office. There was a small smile on his face. You could tell he was happy to see you.

"I got tired resting in bed. I need some excitement, I guess," you said.

He walked into the office and sat down at his desk.

"Are you sure you're up for it? Your leave technically hasn't ended yet. You still have time to recover," he said.

You shook your head.

"I'm done with recovery. I might need some therapy, but other than that, I'm good," you said with a laugh.

"I can recommend you a good therapist," he said. He was partially joking, but he seemed sincere.

"I might have to take you up on that offer," you said, "So what have I missed? Got anything for me, boss?"

Jack's hand made its way to one of the folders on his desk. He slid it across to you.

The front tab was labeled 'Minnesota Shrike/Chesapeake Ripper'. You opened the folder up and started reading.

"We've been called out to Minnesota to investigate a series of murders. All of the victims so far are all teenage girls. As you can see most of them look rather similar," Jack began to explain.

You flipped through the contents of the folder, reading about each victim and examining their photos, mainly the ones that were taken post-mortem.

You wiggled out a picture from underneath a paperclip that had been taken at one of the crime scenes. A girl was sprawled out in the sun in what appeared to be a grassy field. She was nude. Her skin was very pale and had begun to turn greyish-blue. Right underneath her breasts were two apparent puncture wounds. And what was coming out of those wounds made you squint to make sure you weren't seeing things.

She had been impaled with deer antlers.

"What does this have to do with the Chesapeake Ripper?" you asked.

"There may be a possible connection. We have to search every lead," Jack said.

You nodded and continued to look through the folder.

"And what do you want me to do?" you asked.

"One, get ready to go to Minnesota. We just got the call about an hour ago that there's been another murder," Jack said.

"Really? Man, whoever this guy is he's resilient," you said.

"And two, do me a favor and take these down to Will Graham at the Academy."

Jack took the stack of papers and folders and sat them all down in front of you. You closed the folder you were looking at and put it on top.

"Who's Will Graham?" you questioned.

"Your new investigation partner," Jack said.

"Well, I guess I should meet him sooner than later," you said.

"I agree. I'll see you later, (L/N)," Jack said.

You got up from your seat and took the paperwork into your hands. You exited the office and made your way out of the FBI Crime Lab.

Instead of taking your car, you decided to walk to the academy. It was only a couple of minutes away, so the walk would be rather short.

The leaves on the trees had almost all turned dark shades of orange and yellow. Leaves fell on the sidewalk as you walked down the sidewalk. The changing color made you realize just exactly how much time had passed since the shooting. You remembered how the air had felt that day. It wasn't necessarily hot but it was warm. Warm enough to wear all you wanted to wear was a t-shirt and jeans. But now the air was crisp and cool. In a couple of weeks, the temperature would be in the freezing temperatures. Time had changed so quickly.

You approached the front doors of the FBI Academy and entered. You weren't sure where to go. You figured Will was a teacher but Jack hadn't mentioned what he would be teaching. Now that you thought of it, you had no idea what the man would even look like.

You walked down the hallways, peeking into the open doors. You weren't really sure where to even look. You heard faint talking and footsteps down another hall and decided to follow the sounds.

As you turned the corner you saw what you knew to be students based on their uniforms.

"Excuse me, guys. Do you know where I can find Will Graham?" you asked as you approached them.

"Oh, yeah. We just got out of his class. Down this hall, third door on the right," one of the girls said, pointing down the hall.

"Thank you so much," you said.

You walked down the quiet hallway and turned at the open lecture hall. It was a smaller class with a large projector. You saw who you assumed was Will Graham facing towards the projector, looking up and examining it.

You looked up and paused. It was the same picture from earlier. The girl was impaled by deer antlers.

"In all of my years as an agent, I've never seen anything quite like that," you said aloud.

The man jumped a bit at the sudden sound of your voice and turned around. He had wavy brown hair that cascaded around his head. His face dawned a good bit of short whiskers and he wore dark glasses that rested on his nose.

"Neither have I," he said, "May I help you?"

"Will Graham?" you questioned.

"Yes, and you are?"

"(Y/N) (L/N), Jack Crawford sent me," you said. You walked over to him and offered him a handshake, which he took without hesitation.

"Jack sent you. So you're not a student?" he asked.

"No, I'm an agent. I've been out on medical leave, but I just got back," you explained.

You handed him the pack of paperwork. He took it in his hands and sat it down.

"Welcome back," he said.

"Thank you."

"So what are your thoughts on...all of this?" Will questioned, gesturing up to the projector.

"I'm not sure yet. I guess I'll come up with a better opinion in a couple of hours. I'm coming with you and Jack to Minnesota," you said.

"Oh, you're going with us?" Will said.

"Mhm, it's time for me to get back out there in the field. I'm glad I won't have to do it alone. According to Jack, it sounds like we're partners now," you said.

"I guess so," he said with a small smile.

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disgustingtwitches · 12 days ago

Text

A ROSE IN HARLEM

You're stuck in a romcom with your new asshole neighbor, Simon Riley

Masterlist

PART 2

I've got it bad (and that ain't good)

***

You have a ghost in your place. It follows you from room to room. The stench of smoke lingers in the air long after you think it should have dissipated, curling around you like an unseen presence. Shadows play tricks at the corners of your vision—on the fire escape, on the stairs that lead up to your place. There’s a persistent, nagging feeling of being watched, though when you turn to look, there’s never anyone there. And then the dreams. Oh God, the dreams. They leave you breathless, your chest heaving, your skin damp with sweat. You wake up disoriented, heart racing as if you've run miles.

“Astral projection,”

Ishta declares, as if it’s the most obvious explanation in the world. She’s holding your chin up, dabbing setting powder onto your face. You sigh, exasperated. Why are all the people in your life so unserious?

She shakes her head, undeterred by your skepticism, and rifles through your makeup bag.

“No, he doesn’t seem like the type to do that.”

You raise a brow, but she’s already leaning in again, biting her lip in concentration as she carefully fills in your eyebrows.

“I wouldn’t put it past him to use the O method, though.”

She adds, almost too casually.

“The what?”

“Oh, you know. When you, uh…”

She pulls back just enough to mimic a jerking motion with her hand, her bracelets clinking together.

“Ishta.”

Her grin widens, unapologetic, her frenulum piercing glinting as she flashes her teeth.

“I’m serious! It’s like, sex magic or something. It’s doing, uh,”

She makes the jerking motion again.

“But with intention. Picturing what you want.”

You stare at her, deadpan.

“I think that’s just called masturbating, Ishta.”

She clicks her teeth, as if you're being ridiculous.

“No! I promise it’s different!”

You narrow your eyes, but her conviction doesn’t waver.

“It’s about manifesting your future.”

She says, voice sweet as she brushes out your brows.

“That's great. Maybe he should find someone who wants to be in his future.”

You mutter, your voice more defensive than you intended.

Ishta’s grin widens.

“He already did.”

You roll your eyes.

“You're being delusional.”

“You're in denial.”

She leans back, tilting her head to assess her handiwork. You hate the way her words settle into the space between you, like she’s unearthed something you’ve been working hard to bury. Something you've been trying to hide from yourself.

“Perfect,”

She says, brushing off her hands.

“And if you keep avoiding him, you’ll just make him work harder. Men like that don’t back down easily.”

You frown, her words a revelation you knew before but didn’t want to accept. She holds your hands, brushing your knuckles with her thumbs.

“If you don't want him, I'll happily take him off your hands.”

She prods, hoping to get a reaction.

“Okay. That's fine, I don't care.”

You shrug, not taking the bait. She raises an eyebrow, mischief dances in her dark eyes.

“Oh really?”

“Really.”

She's not buying it though. You sigh,

“I don't care.”

You insist, not sure who you're trying to convince.

“Well, if you’re sure… I’ll see if he wants to come to kickboxing with me. Bet he’d look great sweating it out in a tank top.”

You try to hold back a smile, but it's too late, she saw it. She raises her eyebrows and bites back a laugh.

“Your hands are sweaty. God, you're so easy to read.”

“I hate you.”

You pull your hands away, wiping them on your dress.

“Hate me all you want, you still like him.”

“I don't like him. He's just hot.”

“Ok, you think he's hot. And he obviously likes you too.”

You point a finger at her,

“No, he just wants to fuck me.”

You correct her. She sighs and rolls her eyes.

“Fine, so what? You need a good dicking anyway. You think he's hot, and he wants to fuck, so do it!”

“I am not fucking my neighbor.”

“You two have chemistry!”

She says, fiddling with the hemline of your dress.

“Insulting each other is not chemistry, Ishta.”

You push her hands away playfully.

“Wanting to rip his head off is not sexy.”

“Tell that to a praying mantis.”

She simply retorts, picking up a mirror and some eyeliner. You open your mouth to say something but are caught off guard once you process what she said. A laugh escapes you.

“See? Not even denying it. Admit it,”

She simpers while lining her eyes.

“The tension, the sparring—it's hot.”

“It's vexing,”

You watch as she flicks her wrist to draw a perfect wing.

“He vexes me.”

She closes her eyes, letting the liner dry.

“You know what rhymes with vex?”

“Come off it, please.”

“I will once you get on it.”

You groan, swatting her arm while she cackles.

“Be serious.”

She tucks away her eyeliner and swipes some lipgloss on.

“I'm very serious, this is a dire situation. You need 10cc of his dick stat.”

You stand, pulling down your too-short dress and grabbing your bag, ignoring her vulgarity.

“Come on, let's go before we miss happy hour.”

She gives herself a once-over before slipping on her heels. She saunters to the door, keys jingling in her hands.

“You know, the male praying mantis can finish the mating process without a head.”

•

You've been ignoring him.

Every morning when you pass by in the foyer. Practically running past him in the hallway. Rushing to close the elevator door when you see him coming. You don't even blast your music anymore. As unseen as he can make himself be, it's like you have a god-damned sixth sense of when he's near, scurrying away as soon as your hackles raise.

It irks him.

He thinks about picking up the drill again, making holes at the shared wall where he knows your bedroom is. Seeing your face twisted up in anger, spitting curses at him, the daggers you shoot at him. It stirs something inside him, something dark and primal—thoughts he'd never want you to know, or anyone, really.

He'd be happy to lose sleep if that meant you'd give him that look again, like you could kill him where he stood.The thought of your hands tightening around his neck, fingers digging into his skin, eyes wide with rage, your arms trembling with the effort it takes to hold him there—he's found himself finishing to the idea a concerning amount of times.

He needs to call in the cavalry.

***

Kyle makes a face while he finishes his beer.

“You asked her ‘if she needed good dick’? Ever the charmer, LT.”

Johnny shrugs, shredding up his paper coaster.

“It's a valid question.”

“Of course you think that,”

Kyle waves down the bartender for a refill.

“You’re a dog.”

Price ignores the two, fully facing Simon.

“Don't terrorize the poor girl, won't do you any good.”

“Woman. She is a woman.”

Kyle interrupts. That gets an unamused look from the captain.

“Yes, woman. You can't just keep pushing her buttons, this isn't primary school. You've got to try something else. At least take her out before asking to fuck her again.”

Johnny chimes in.

“Nah, she likes to get riled up. I vote for hammering the wall again. Worked like a charm last time.”

Kyle sneers.

“Of course you'd say that, you like when women scream at you, you debauched lunatic.”

Simon doesn't linger on the fact that he and Johnny share the same type in that regard.

“Aye, I like a passionate woman.”

Johnny’s smile remains unfaltering, foolish, his eyes going dreamy, like he’s imagining having a fight with his bird right then and there—probably picturing her throwing something at his head for good measure. He and Kyle start to bicker, both too hard-headed for their own good.

Simon goes quiet, swirling his glass, eyes glazed over that signals he's blocking out the world around him before he loses temper.

“Enough.”

Price growls, sharp and final. He was always protective of Simon—even when it was his own sergeants getting into it. John addresses Simon, talking to him in that way that brings him back to reality.

“If she's avoiding you, it's because you pushed too hard. You don't fix that by pushing harder.”

Simon snorts, thinking of how Captain bullied his way into his girl's life. She is soft though, pliable. No bark or bite. Not like his girl at all.

“And what do you suggest? Flowers and poetry?”

“If it works, why not?”

Kyle answers, ever the lover boy. It's so easy for him to say. So easy for all of them. It grates on Simon's nerves. Not like Simon tried to pursue someone often, he doesn't have the patience for it, barely has the desire.

He stands abruptly, chair scraping the floor.

“Right.”

His voice is flat, face blank. He's halfway out the door when Kyle calls out to him,

“Good luck, mate.”

He doesn't respond, letting the door swing shut while he steps onto the sidewalk, lighting a cigarette.

“Fucking useless.”

He mutters, though he's not sure if he means his teammates or himself.

***

He knows he should feel bad about this. Watching you. He avoids the word stalking, settles on something softer—surveilling. Doesn't sound as sinister.

He likes watching you. He wealses his way into your Instagram, because a private page isn't stopping him from seeing you.

You post photos from your weekend nights out—bathroom selfies with friends, smiling and carefree in bars he'd never step foot in. You're pretty when you smile, almost as pretty as you pout. You wear a small dress out on the town. Something he could easily slide a hand under while you are distracted.

He likes your sense of humor.

He watches as you take pictures of new installments at your exhibition. Today, a small clay figure of a woman on horseback captioned,

“A hot new bombshell enters the villa”

He keeps track of other things too. Your cycle. Not in a creepy way, not exactly, but you make it very obvious when you're ovulating. Stories playfully carnal with captions like,"Raw, next question.” He takes note of it, filing it away, making sure he knows exactly when the window opens.

And during one of the hottest weeks of the summer, he decides it's the perfect time.

He's been building up to this of course, tugging off his hoodie after his morning runs so you see him sweaty and panting while you walk past in the foyer. He doesn't mind showing a bit of skin, putting on a show for his girl. As long as he gets to see those shameful little peeks you take. Eyes unwillingly darting from the floor to his arms then back to the floor.

And he waits.

Waits until you put your guard down a little. Your shoulders don't tense up as much when he walks by. You stop glancing over your shoulder as often. You even start playing your music each weekend again, confident he won't come knocking on your door.

***

It's hot. Too hot. The heat wave that stretched out to over a week now. It's got him agitated, irritable. Impatient.

So he heads to the elevator and down to the basement. She doesn't even turn when the elevator dings, bent over in some slutty little shorts while loading up a dryer. He stands by the elevator, watching. Tucks away the anger that bubbles up when he thinks of someone else coming down and seeing her like this. He'd never let that happen.

She jumps when she turns around.

“Jesus!”

Then, as always, you try to scurry away. But he planned for this, blocking her only way out.

“Hiding from me?”

“No, why would I do that?”

“Too busy for me, then?”

That gets her to narrow her eyes at him.

“Why would I even think of making time for you?”

There she is. His pretty girl.

“Don't wanna see me anymore? Thought we were getting along.”

“You thought wrong. Thought I made that clear.”

She tries stepping around him, he mirrors her, broad frame unyielding.

“Not clear enough.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“I don't want you bothering me. That clear enough?”

“I don't believe you.”

He says plainly.

“You don't believe me?”

Her irritation grows. He sees it in the way her jaw clenches.

“You're a bad liar.”

“So I've been told.”

She doesn't even look at his face, just straight ahead to his chest. Like looking at his face would push her over the edge.

“You looked nice last night.”

“When did you-how? Nevermind, don't answer that. I need to go.”

Another attempt to pass him. Another block. She grits her teeth.

“You're aggravating.”

“So I've been told.”

He mocks her. She shoves at him—a gentle nudge really for his stature. His mind blanks for a moment. When's the last time a woman has touched him, he thinks, even like this?

He lets her slip by, nearly reaching the elevator. Nearly.

Then he hooks a finger into her belt loop and tugs.

“Where's my good girl?”

His hold keeps her in place. She still tries to pull away, reaching for the elevator button.

“I'm not your girl.”

Her fingertips graze the button when he tugs again, pulling her off balance, close enough for him to catch the faintest whiff of her perfume.

“Simon!”

She grabs at his wrist—not even able to fully wrap around him.

“Name sounds so nice coming out that pretty mouth.”

He mutters, more to herself than to her. His other hand pulls at her waistband. She's all protests and curses that he tunes out, too busy running a finger along the inside of the top of her shorts.

Everytime she half-heartedly pushes at his chest or scratches his arms, he tugs her closer, polishing the button of her shorts with his thumbs, fingers dipping just under her waistband, firm grip keeping her in place.

“Tell you what,”

He finally says, eyes still locked on where his hands are.

She pauses, her defiance flickering for a moment.

“Say you don't want this, and I'll stop.”

She pauses.

For a long time, she stares at him, her lips parting slightly like she's about to speak, but no words come out. Simon doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. Unnervingly, doesn’t even blink. His stillness makes her unnerved, he can see it in her eyes.

Eventually, he gets bored of waiting for her answer. He casually tugs at her tank top, looking down her shirt. She snatches the fabric away from him, holding it close to her chest, scandalized as if she wasnt just contemplating on fucking him.

“They're pretty.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

This time when she steps back and he tugs at her shorts, she comes to him without much resistance.

“On paper? Nothing.”

When she puts her arms down, he still stares at her chest.

“For some reason, I don't believe that.”

He hums in acknowledgment, casually flicking at a raised nipple poking out her top. She slaps his hand away, hard.

“Would you stop that?”

She sternly admonishes him. He rests a hand on her hip, the pad of his thumb tracing lazy circles on the denim.

“Why aren't you leaving?”

“You won't let me!”

“Yeah,”

His murmurs, devoid of remorse.

“Elevator’s broke anyways.”

She snaps her head to her only way out.

“I just saw you use it.”

“I broke it.”

He gently turns her by the shoulders, coaxing her to the lift.

“Try it.”

She looks at him, unsure. His face is infuriatingly neutral, offering no hint of a joke. Slowly, she steps forward and presses the button.

The doors slide open, smooth and functional. Relief floods her chest, her path clear. She steps inside, pressing the button for her floor.

Before the doors can fully close, his boot wedges between them. The mechanism stutters, the doors bouncing off the leather before sliding open again.

“See? Broken.”

He steps between the doors, keeping them open, effectively trapping her into an even smaller space.

“You think you're funny.”

“Hilarious.”

He holds himself back from grabbing her face when her nostrils flare.

“What the fuck do you want from me?”

“Want you to play nice.”

The words roll off his tongue so smoothly, so audaciously, it takes her a moment to process. His gaze doesn’t waver, steady and unrelenting, locking her in place as effectively as the metal walls around them.

“Play nice?”

She echoes, her voice sharp, incredulous.

“Yeah,”

He says, a slight tilt of his head, as though he’s genuinely surprised she’s asking. His thumb brushes over his knuckles, a lazy, practiced motion that only adds to her irritation.

“And what the hell does that mean?”

He steps closer, closing what little space remains between them, the heat of him almost suffocating. “Means stop running, angel.”

The button clicks under his thumb, their floor lighting up. The doors slide shut with a groan, and he doesn’t look at her. Just faces forward like nothing happened. The lift jolts, shuddering upward. She presses herself against the wall, her movements awkward, trying to find a place in the tiny box where his heat doesn’t reach her.

“Thought I told you to stop running.”

He warns, staring straight ahead. His hand reaches out, clamps onto the back of her neck. Not rough, not quite gentle, but enough to stop her breath. She squirms away from him. It's enough to make his blood boil.

All this planning. All this waiting. If he lets her get away this time, he won't get another chance.

He waits for the elevator to slide perfectly between floors before hitting the emergency stop button. The jolt is harsh, the sudden silence worse.

“What are you doing?”

She asks, the words tumbling out.

“Making sure you listen this time.”

The quiet hum of the stopped lift vibrates between them, but it doesn’t drown out the sound of her breathing. She presses her back harder against the wall, but there’s nowhere to go. His hand grabs her face. It’s not rough, but there’s no softness in the gesture either. His thumb brushes along her jaw.

“Think you owe me an apology.”

His voice is low, harsh, almost mean.

“What?”

“Ignoring me all this time. And for what? What did I do?”

“You-”

He cuts her off, pushing two fingers into her mouth.

“Didn't do anything. Suck.”

She bats her lashes at him, wide eyes looking up at him, and wraps her lips around his fingers.

“Nothing.”

Slowly, he slides his fingers in and out her mouth.

“Now look at us. Can't go on like this, only gets us in a mood. Is that what you want?”

He pulls his fingers out of her mouth and shoves them down her shorts, rolling her clit between his fingers.

“All pent up. No good for either of us.”

He leans down to murmur in her ear, watching as she melts under his touch.

As she opens her mouth to retort, he uses his other hand to stick another thick finger in her mouth.

“None of that.”

A loud beep from the intercom elevator interrupts their moment. She panics, trying to squirm away from him, pushing at his arms.

“Hello?”

A voice comes through the speaker.

Simon shuffles closer to her, practically pinning her against the corner of the elevator, slipping slick fingers into her.

“Yeah, just pressed the button by accident.”

“Alright. No problem.”

The voice on the other end replies before there is a click and they are alone again.

He watches as her eyes fill with panic and embarrassment. He feels for her, he didn't want this to happen here. Wanted to take her somewhere proper, like her bed, or bent over his counter.

The elevator suddenly jolts back into motion.

“Relax. There's no cameras here.”

He tries to calm her, pulling away and slipping his fingers out of her wetness before popping them into his mouth.

The elevator dings, and he steps out first, unhurried, as though nothing unusual had happened. A neighbor passes by, her gaze shifting from him to his girl trailing behind, her concern clear in the way her brow furrows.

"Everything alright?"

The neighbor asks, her voice hesitant, probing.

His girl’s breath catches, her answer quick but unsteady.

“Mhm. All good.”

Her tone betrays her. Too high. Too quick. The neighbor lingers for a second too long, glancing between them, before the doors slide closed, cutting off any chance for further questioning.

He walks ahead, straight to her door. She follows, curling into herself like if she made herself small enough, she could just disappear.

He stops just short of her door. When he finally turns, his eyes lock onto hers. Her eyes bounce between him and her door.

“What are you doing?”

“Not done. Think I’m gonna let my girl go home like this?”

Her lips part, like she might argue, but she hesitates, biting down on her lower lip instead. Her fingers curl around the doorknob. She turns it, the latch clicking softly.

The door creaks open, a darkened room greeting them on the other side. She steps over the threshold but stops, half-turning toward him. Her body is halfway in, halfway out, caught in the tension of indecision.

“Go inside.”

He says, his voice quiet but firm. She steps further inside, her back to him now. When she hesitates again, he walks forward, using his body to herd her into her place.

“Nice place.”

He kicks off his shoes and flops on the couch, it squeaks under him. A small flimsy thing. He'll get her something nicer when this one inevitably breaks from bending her over the arm too many times.

“Sit.”

Back in the comfort of her own home, she regains a little confidence, mumbling something under her breath while moving towards him.

“Didn't catch that angel, say it again?”

She huffs, and sits on the edge of the couch, still playing hard to get.

“Nothing.”

He doesn't have to reach too far to snatch her and maneuver her into his lap.

“Say it with your chest, love. You know, communication is important in a relationship.”

The corners of her lips twitch upwards before pouting again.

“We're not in a relationship.”

His head tilts, studying her with mock seriousness.

“Feeling alright? Not the most coherent thing you’ve ever said.”

She narrows her eyes at him.

“Female hysteria, very dire.”

He leans back, taking her with him, pressing her back against his chest.

“Heard treatment is particularly intense. Being hung upside down, leeches on the abdomen, forced orgasms.”

She tilts her head back, looking up at him.

“Brutal. Wonder if they still make house calls for that sort of thing.”

“No need, I'm happy to help. Prone bone.”

She raises a brow.

“Pro bono, you mean.”

“Yeah, that too.”

Her snort gets cut off with a gasp when he lifts her hips up with his, tucking his thumbs into the sides of her shorts and shucking them down.

“I like these.”

He snaps at the thin elastic of her underwear.

"Careful,"

She warns, her voice breathy.

"Those are my favorite pair."

“Mine too, might nick ‘em.”

When she rolls against his hardening length and snickers at him freezing up.

“Don't think they'd fit you.”

One swift move and his pants are around his thighs. He ignores her complaining about having his bare ass on her couch and holds her hips, guiding her slick panties against his length. She laughs nervously while he moves her hips to grind her up and down him,

“Jesus, just goes on forever, doesn't it?”

“Based on my experience, seems like you enjoy a challenge.”

Her hands look for something to anchor herself, his wrists being the closest thing she can reach.

“Do I?”

Her eyes lock onto his, pupils blown out, hungry. He slowly, so slowly, moves a hand from her hip to stomach and creeps down, fingers moving the dainty fabric out of the way and-

There's a knock.

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#i am so normal about Simon i prommy #a rose in harlem #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #cod x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you

165 notes · View notes

bunny-jpeg · 5 months ago

Note

can i have order kimi rakkionen with a berry trifle and maybe s’more with a side of root beer

bakery menu

want to suggest your own fic? look at the menu to request your own! i also accept for fandoms outside of formula one! so please take a look! this one goes out to my server member! thank you for suggesting this, i hope you enjoy!!

berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + s'more ("the accent gets to you. doesn't it?") + root beer (filming/recording) served by kimi rakkionen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, voice kink, dom!kimi, age gap (20s/40s)

when his arms wrapped around you, you felt a sense of comfort. it was a saturday morning, or rather afternoon. kimi put his arms around you and his face against your back. he could feel your heartbeat against his cheek.

"huomenta." you said with a yawn.

he chuckled and raised his head higher to kiss you on the back of the neck, "you're getting better." he said, "taking the learning serious, i see."

you chuckled lightly and turned in kimi's arms. you placed your hands on his chest and leaned in for a gentle kiss. you said, "of course, i said i would give it my all to learn it. i mean, after all." you put him on his back and held him by the shoulders, "i have such a great teacher."

he took you by the hips and got you on top of him, he said, "the accent gets to you. doesn't it? that's why you've been so eager to learn." he winked at you as his hands went to the waistband on your sleeping shorts.

you giggled and got them off with a little help, a long with your underwear. you sat up on his abdomen and licked your lips. even though he was a bit older, he was quite handsome. those beautiful eyes were the first thing to draw you in, when you met him that one fateful night.

"i'm curious to see how much you know." kimi said, "tell me what day is it today?"

you thought for a moment, "um, keskiviikko?" and was met with a quick swat on the ass. you yelped and bucked your hips.

"wrong. try again." your lovingly boyfriend responded.

"sunnuntai?" you tried again. it was cute, you were trying to hard and it didn't help that kimi was dealing with some morning wood.

he looked up at you and laughed, "not quite. i guess i have more to teach." as he rubbed his cock up against your ass. his hands were on your hips, but not holding onto you tightly.

you blushed, and got yourself seated on his cock. you placed your hands on his chest for leverage as you moved your hips up and down. his cock could be a little intimidating at times, the girth of this always left you feeling butterflies in your stomach.

"how is that?" he asked.

you nodded, "perfect, my love." you leaned in to kiss him on the lips. you started to raise and drop your hips. you felt his cock nudge against some of your most intimate areas.

"you always feel like a dream to me." said the retired driver, "feel good on top of me. like you belong there."

you chuckled and smirked at him, 'that's because if you fuck me too hard in missionary. you usually pull something in your hip." you chuckled as you moved against him.

he grabbed you by the face and pulled you towards him. before he kissed you, he said, "not unlike all the times you can't wait the next day because you begged for me to go faster." then silenced you with a searing kiss.

his heart leapt in his chest as he moved against you. he held you by the hips once more as he kissed you passionately. he felt the curl of pleasure in his gut as the two of you moved against one another.

you panted and and rolled your hips. keeping his cock inside of you as you bounced up on it. it felt so good all over, you had to give kimi that. he really knew how to make your toes curled, even when he was lying underneath you.

"i love you." you said softly between a few moans.

"i love you too, more than you'll ever know. you are the most beautiful woman i have ever seen." he praised you. he was right, there was something about that accent. it was a familiar feeling in your gut as you felt so close to him.

the two of you continued to move against one another. the feeling kept growing in your gut, only fueled by the slip-ups in finnish as he held onto your hips and kept his cock buried neatly inside of you. he could feel his heartbeat in his ears as he moved against you.

you were a dream come alive and when your noises got even cuter as you neared climax. it only made kimi want you more.

"ah, kimi." you moaned, "baby, honey." your cunt clenched around him.

he panted through a tense jaw and felt everything feel alert and alive. he tensed up at the closeness of his climax.

you climaxed first and dug your nails into kimi's shoulders as you started to slow down. he in turn held onto your hips tighter and continued to thrust up into you. you panted wildly for him as you felt the after affects of pleasure.

he swore under his breath as he gave it a few more heavy thrusts. he pushed his cock as deep as it would go inside of you and finished. he let out a sharp groaning noise before he made sure all of him was inside of you. then he let go of your hips and let you drop down onto his chest.

you stayed there for a moment to compose yourself. once you did, you looked up at him. and he looked down at you. you flashed him a smile and said, "lauantai. today is lauantai."

kimi chuckled for a moment and rubbed the back of your head, "you really are something. now why don't you clean me up with that mouth of yours and i can make us breakfast." then looked at the time on his phone, "actually lunch." <3

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beesspacedotorg · 1 year ago

Text

Handle With Care

Summary: You've had a truly awful day, luckily, your adoring boyfriend Minho is there to make it better. 2.5k words

Warnings: there's sex, but honestly it feels like someone accidentally got porn in my fluff so do with that what you will. reader is as gender neutral as physically possible. reader is also lowkey a crybaby, sorry but actually I'm not

Notes: Hello adoring public. It turns out, I can write fanfiction, and with the encouragement of Juno and Ems, I can also post it! There is a cat in this, she was inspired by a cat my family used to have and a cat my family currently has. They're both calico which I think explains everything you need to know about them.

There’s a lot you can say about the day you had today, and most of them start with sh- and end in -itty. You’re thinking on this as you dive head first onto the rough material of your couch, great for sitting, bad for face planting. You hear a scratching by your head and absentmindedly bat your cat away from the arm of the couch, mumbling something about how she has a perfectly good cat tree two feet away before resuming your completely justified sulking.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t hear you come home. How was your day?” There’s a voice above you and you can picture him in your mind's eye, leaning against the back of the couch as he stares at your limp form, probably eyeing the shoes you didn’t take off by the door. You mumble something half hearted in response and he huffs before the sound of walking hits your ears and all the breath leaves your body at once. He’s sitting on you. This motherfucker is sitting on you.

“Get off, Minho” You had to tilt your head to the side, it’s hard enough to breathe through couch fabric as is, much less when there’s a full grown man sitting on your back.

“You should answer people when they try to talk to you, jagiya.”

“You shouldn’t sit on people while they’re laying down, yeobo.” Your voice is a lot more acidic than his was and a twinge of guilt settles on you before it dissipates as he shifts and manages to place more weight on your back.

“Hmm. I guess we’re both doing things that we shouldn’t then. How tragic.” His voice is deadpan, and you still can’t see him from where your head is turned- your view is limited to the back of the couch and his arm in your periphery- but you can feel the dead stare he’s aiming at your skull. There’s a silence for a few moments while you engage in a war of attrition, neither of you willing to give up just yet, but it’s getting genuinely hard to breathe and your back is starting to hurt.

“It sucked, please get off.” He does, patting your back consolingly.

“See? Was that so hard?” He guides your head to his lap as you both sit back down, petting over your hair like he would his cats. “Tell me, what’s got my baby in such a tizzy?”

You grumble at him, rolling over to shove your face into his stomach, tired and petulant. He sighs softly, but keeps patting your head, so you know he’s mostly just doing it for show.

“That kind of day, hmm, jagi?” And you nod again. Honestly, it wasn’t much different from a normal day, it’s just that the right things managed to go very wrong and subsequently ruined your day in a way that has pressure forming behind your eyes and your voice cracking stupidly every time you try to talk.

You both sit for a while before he puts something on the TV and gently shoves your head off his lap.

“Hey-”

“Do you want the dinner I worked so hard on to go cold?” He has his hands on his hips in front of you and you laugh slightly at how funny he looks. He rolls his eyes and goes, coming back with two bowls of something before he forcefully sits you up and shoves it in your hands.

“Eat.”

“Yes, chef.”

The food is delicious, it always is when Minho cooks it, he’s got a talent for it you’ve never really seen firsthand, and you consider yourself truly blessed to be able to eat it as often as he’s able to make it for you. Still, gratefulness and taste aside, your day was shitty enough that every mouthful tastes like ash and turns to rot in your stomach, leaving you with an unsettling queasiness that shouldn’t ever be attributed to your boyfriend’s cooking. You’re shoving the contents around with a spoon before he huffs- a real one this time- and takes the bowl from you, setting it on the coffee table next to his own before he mutes the TV.

“Okay. Quite clearly something is wrong. What can I do to help you?” You think he knows, but you like that he asks anyway. Minho always asks, always lets you talk and sort out whatever’s going on before he tries to help. Even if your answer is a simple shake of the head, a simple, I don’t feel like it, become a mind reader, he always asks before he helps. Sometimes you wonder how he always knows what you need, others you just decide to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

You huff and your lip wobbles pathetically and he coos, slightly condescending.

“Crying already? I haven’t even done anything.” He’s teasing, but his hands are gentle as he pulls you into his lap, his hands are gentle as they find their way under your shirt, his mouth is gentle as it kisses down the side of your face to your neck.

“‘M sorry,” you’re not the biggest fan of crying, neither is he, but for different reasons. He’s not someone who’s brought to tears easily, you are, but there’s an inherent shame in it, you think. Something so embarrassing about getting worked up enough to start crying like a baby, and so as much and as often as you feel like crying, you don’t. This he also knows, because he knows everything.

“Aish, why are you sorry for? I didn’t tell you to apologize, did I?” He taps your cheek lightly, causing you to look up at him, he plants a kiss on your nose, then your mouth.

“Sweet thing, don’t worry about anything except for what I tell you to, okay?” And you nod and he smiles.

You’re not much for talking in times like these, everything is so sensitive and soft and talking feels like a cheese grater on this cloudlike moment so you don’t and he knows, so he doesn’t chide you for it. Usually, he would. He’d crack a hand down on your ass or grab a fistful of your hair and tell you that he asked you a question so he expects an answer, but that’s not what you need right now, so he doesn’t. He just kisses your jaw again before he puts both of his warm hands under your shirt and lets his fingers poke at your chest.

He always says his hands are small, but really, you wouldn’t be able to tell, not with the way he cups your chest in his hand and lets his thumb brush over your nipple, gentle and reverent. It’s not much, not as much as he usually gives you, but it’s enough to have your mouth dropping open with a gasp and your back arching into his hand, it’s enough to have him giggling softly at your reaction.

“Sensitive today?” He’s teasing again, as soft as he is right now, he’s still Minho, he still likes to poke fun. You huff, biting at his shoulder softly in retaliation and he lets you, pinching your nipple just this side of too much in retribution before one of his hands wanders down to your ass, groping and squishing the flesh. Your breath stutters in your chest as he pushes your hips forward onto his, friction sending sparks up your spine.

“Min-” You’re desperate and he hasn’t even done anything yet, not really. A few stray touches and you already feel yourself shattering to pieces in his grasp, you’re not afraid though, and not quite ashamed. He’ll take care of you, he always does.

He does it again, guides your hips forward until you’ve gotten the hint to keep going by yourself and you’re struck with the urge to kiss him, so you do, removing your head from the home it’s made on his shoulder and making a go at his mouth. It’s messy, your coordination shot already, and you almost smash your forehead into his nose before he catches your head with a laugh.

“Easy there. Bloody noses aren’t exactly sexy.” You disagree, he could make anything sexy, but you don’t have time to voice that thought as he pushes his mouth onto yours and lovingly shoves his tongue down your throat. The kiss is messy, they always are. However gentle he is, he can never seem to stop himself from kissing you until your face is covered in drool and spit, and if it were anyone else, you’d be mildly repulsed, but you like the way he looks at your mouth after it’s over, so you let it slide.

You pull away, chest burning and heaving and look at him before you still, eyes drawn to something by his head.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” You don’t answer, gaze still drawn away from him.

“There’s a little white girl staring at me.” He turns his head to the side and laughs as he comes face to face with your cat, her green eyes boring into him. He scratches her head affectionately and lets her headbutt him before your center of gravity is shifting drastically and you’re clinging onto him for dear life.

The bedroom door shuts before you’re very aware of it and suddenly there’s a mattress under your back and a Minho over your front and his hands are up your shirt again, this time shoving it off of you until your chest is bare. You shiver slightly from the cold and then there’s a blanket being shoved around your shoulders and you smile up at him. He knows you so well, he loves you so much and your eyes are welling with tears.

“Aigoo, my little crybaby. It’s just a blanket,” there’s a kiss on each of your cheek bones, “silly thing. Save your tears for when my cock is in you, hmm?” Your breath stutters again and your hands are tugging at his shirt until he takes it off, he laughs again when your hands immediately find his chest.

“I’m glad someone appreciates my hard work.”

“They’re nice boobs.” The sentence catches him off guard, makes him laugh hard enough that he loses his balance a little and his weight settles onto you more. It’s comforting, like a weighted blanket that can talk and walk and kiss you silly.

Then, his hands are under your bottoms, tugging them off your legs and you’re suddenly wearing nothing and he’s still in his pants, which you find disgustingly unfair. You reach down and tug on the hem off his sweats, pouting and huffing until he gets the message and tugs those off too.

“You just want to get me naked,” he starts. “I can’t believe you just want me for my body.” You nod cheekily in response and he smacks your shoulder.

“Yah! See if I’m ever nice to you again!” But he’s kissing your neck again as his hands guide your legs to cross over his hips before he’s touching you in a way that steals the breath from your lungs and makes your head tip back into the pillows.

“There we go. So pretty when you’re like this, hmm? So soft and sweet for me.” His fingers are in you now, pressing insistently against that spot that makes white splash in your vision and reflexively forces your legs shut. He grunts slightly as your thighs squeeze around his hips, pressure just this side of uncomfortable. He doesn’t say anything though, just keeps his pace steady inside you until you’re almost tipping over and he stops. You look at him with something akin to betrayal, fresh tears springing to your eyes, but before you can open your mouth to complain he’s sliding home and you don’t have enough air to say anything anyway.

He catches it though, rolls his eyes as he sees the way your attitude was about to flare up.

“What did I tell you earlier, jagiya? Don’t worry about anything unless I tell you to worry about it. I always take care of you, don’t I?” He does, he’s good to you like that. He sounds slightly out of breath already, unusual for him, but you don’t mind because it feels like you’re seconds away from God’s doorstep yourself.

His pace is slow and deep, bass knock steady even as you squirm under him. If this were a normal situation, he’d stop, hands gripping your hips unforgivingly until you stayed still, but this isn’t a normal situation so he lets you wiggle, only huffing in mild irritation before he leans down to kiss you again.

“You’re gonna knock us off the damn bed, baby.” But he doesn’t make any move to stop you, and you feel too good to really process his words anyway. You love him, you really do, and you’re struck with the overwhelming urge to tell him, to let him know, to make him know. You grip his shoulders tightly, nails digging in until he hisses and levels you with a glare, one that instantly softens when he meets your eyes.

“I love you,” it comes out of you as a sob, like it was wrenched from your vocal chords before you gave yourself permission to think it. “I love you so much.” You’re rambling now, repeating those three words over and over and Minho coos, hips faltering just slightly. He always goes weak when you tell him you love him, and you keep it in your back pocket like a weapon for the times that you’re in trouble.

“I love you, too, jagiya. ‘S that why you’re crying? Hmm? Love me so much it’s gotta spill out from your pretty eyes?” You nod in response, breath hitching from the pleasure and the tears and his hand drifts from its place on your hip to touch you again and you’re spilling liquid heat before you can really register what’s happening. You feel him inside you, too, insides suddenly molten warm but you’re floating too high for it to feel like it’s happening to you, like you’ve been temporarily ejected from your body.

When your soul settles back into your bones, Minho is laying next to you, staring at you with his wide eyes, you look over at him and smile.

“Is boba really worth it?” He looks confused at your question before you poke him on the eyelid and he laughs.

“Feel better?” You consider for a moment. Your teeth don’t feel like they’re too big for their sockets and your bones no longer feel itchy. You’re hungry, but mostly, your mind is quiet. There’s no overwhelming pressure behind your eyes and when you talk your voice cracks from sleep instead of from the force of choking back tears.

“Much. I’m hungry, though.” You give your best impression of puppy eyes at him and watch as his eyes roll to the back of his skull. You’ve been told that your pleading face looks mildly perturbing, but Minho always says you remind him of Soonie when you do it. It makes you feel slightly bad for Soonie, soon the cat isn’t going to be able to get anything off of Minho because you’ll have rendered him immune.

He comes back with your reheated bowl in one hand and your cat in the other.

“She screamed at me until I picked her up. Stood on my feet and hollered.” He winces slightly. “I should’ve put on boxers because she almost mistook my dick for a toy.”

#bee blurbs #ft.lino #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know x you #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #lee minho x reader #the last time i wrote fanfiction and posted it it was very mid langst so lets hope this is better #this is saved in my google docs as “Sorry to God and also Myself” btw

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mrrcury · 6 months ago

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SEPERATION ANXIETY ☆

written by mercury ٩(ˊᗜˋ)و✰

childe x gender neutral reader, they/them pronouns used like, once, otherwise no pronouns used

cw : anxiety, (obvi) blood, genshin spoilers, violence, drowning

authors note : wrote this based off a brainrot i posted a long time ago. this gives major undertale vibes btw have fun reading

You heard it.

A large splash, it echoed throughout the great walls and cliffs of the Abyss. It ringed in you ears, and caught your attention immediately. Who wouldn't wanna check out something as mysterious as that, right? So like the little child you were, you left.

Footsteps crunched under the hard ground, as you observed your dark surroundings. You never exactly went to this part of the Abyss, as your mother told you it would not be worth it. But, curiosity killed the cat.

When you approached the lake that was inside the vastly cavern that you live in, you saw the water glimmering and rippling, as if freshly touched. All you had to do was look a teensy bit closer. Was that,

A human?

You were surprised, to say the least. Humans haven't dared to come down here for a while, at least quite rarely. You could see the boy falling deeper into the water, his bright ginger hair flowing in the water.

So you jumped in, grabbed his hand, and dragged him out with your abyssal claws that were the tiniest bigger then his.

He was a little bit lighter then you expected, and you could see all his features while pulling him up. You could see the star-like freckles that adorned his face, similar to the ones in the sky. When you got him back onto the land, he didn't seem to be breathing. Oh no. Did you have to do that one technique where you put your mouth on-

cough cough

Oh, nevermind, good!

You stared at him with big eyes as the boy hacked up water from his lungs. He looked up at you, eyes with a deep blue likened to that of Enkanomiya. They were intriguing, beautiful even.

"Wh-who are you? Where am I!" The young boy shrieked with terror. He didn't seem the happiest to be here. I mean, you wouldn't either. Maybe.

"Oh, I'm [Name.]"

"Also, you're in the Abyss." You muttered, with a hushed voice. He got up from the ground to where you were crouching. "The abyss?" He said quietly. You nodded.

"I don't really know how you ended up here, but good luck, you're not getting out."

"Wait, what?"

He looked at you again, you could see the fear in his eyes, his pupils just slightly shrinking.

"Yeah, this place don't let people out freely. You have to make it out. Prove yourself, basically."

You could see his body to slightly shake, tearing his eyes off of you to observe where he was at. You looked with him, taking another glance at the dark cliffs you've grown to be so familiar with. It was home to you, but a soon to be nightmare for the boy.

"How would I, y'know, prove myself?"

"Eh, you gotta fight for it. Ever fought a hilichurl before?" You looked at him again.

He shook his head with slight hesitance.

"Okay, let me show you how to do it."

☆

It's been about a week since you found the boy. You decided to introduce him to your mother, Skirk, as he couldn't exactly be left alone with no shelter in a place like this.

You figured out his name was Ajax a little after you met him. He told you with a smile on his face, and how he was named after a great hero.

Skirk was a lot harder on him then you were. To you, he was just a boy. You treated him like a friend, someone equal to you. After a bit, you genuinely started to care for him.

Skirk however, was stricter. She treated him a only a little meaner then you, however it was mostly when he was getting trained to fight by her. He did kind of have little to no experience in this field.

You taught him the basics to fight, how to wield a sword correctly, proper stances, basically enough to be able to fend yourself from a couple slimes or a hilichurl. Skirk taught the more advanced stuff.

When he was down here, he felt like a best friend to you. He told you stories about him and his father ice fishing, and his siblings too. He had a new one on the way at the time he came down here.

He talked about his family and Snezhnaya with stars in his eyes, it made you admire him.

"Oh, I've been meaning to ask. What exactly are you? You don't look human, or really sound like it either" He said curiously.

"Im an Abyss Herald. In training, at least. I'm not fully grown yet."

"That sounds cool! Do you guys have magical powers or anything!"

"Ah, does abyssal magic count?"

"Yeah, yeah! Show me some!" He looked at you, about to burst with excitement.

You giggled, a toothy smile spreading across your face. "Okay, but i'm not showing you much."

"Awwh, why not?"

"You'll find out why later!" A smug look appeared on your face. He snickered in response.

☆

Its been a month, and you guys fucked up.

You ran around with Ajax a little too far around in the Abyss, and you ended up just entering a teensy bit too far into a beast's cavern. Both of you knew how to fight, but were no match for the beast you just had to have encountered:

This was a foreign feeling to you but, you were afraid. Afraid of what might happen to the both of you.

The two of you have opposing opinions on what you should do about this. You wanted to run, to just not get hurt and to get away, as you were smart enough to know you wouldn't be able to beat this monster.

However, Ajax had a different opinion. You noticed how the longer he's been here with you and Skirk, the more his, personality, has changed.

Just a month ago he was a timid boy, barely knew how to fight and only had a shortsword and a loaf of bread with him. Almost like a defenseless puppy.

But, now that he's gotten a point in training, he's become.. Violent, to say the least. Battle-hungry was a more accurate word for it.

He changed, and you knew it.

Back to the point, when you ran into this beast, Ajax acted recklessly. He pulled out his sword and charged head first into the beast while you tried to stop him. Clearly, his plan didn't work. He did get a couple of hits onto the beast, but in trade he was injured.

"Ajax!" You called out, arm stretched in failed attempt to stop him from killing the wretched beast. You knew this was a bad idea, yet you couldn't prevent it.

You heard that terrible scream, the one you dreaded ever since he became close to you. And you knew what you had to do.

☆

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Skirk scolded Ajax for the incident. For him just running straight in without any proper strategy or skill for the battle. She didn't let you off the hook either, as she was also angry at you for not stopping it.

Both of you were clearly ashamed of what happened back in the fight.

"Did you seriously think that was a good idea? You are only human, and [Name,] you know damn well better." Skirk hissed and seethed as she bandaged Ajax's wounds. Ajax looked at her, tight lipped.

Suprise to you, Ajax showed little to almost no remorse for charging into the fight. You could guess he didn't regret it, despite the gaping wound on his body. All you could tell was his deep, dark blue eyes, which no longer held so much light to them.

They used to sparkle, like that of the moon, shining above the rest. It was what you took note of the most.

But as of now, they lost their shine, slowly and carefully.

You wondered if they would ever shine again.

☆

It has been 3 months ever since you found the boy in the lake by the cliffs.

Ajax made significant progress in becoming a fighter, if you compared him now to the boy you first met, it was almost unbelievable, and impressive. However, you win some and ya lose some. With that fighting ability he gained, he also lost a part of him. A part that gave him humanity, you could say.

You wouldn't quite call it insanity, but that part of him changed and shifted, into something that wasn't really normal anymore. Something that almost scared you.

But, the time was coming. Ajax had to leave.

The long awaited day arrived, and as it seems, the Abyss has seen Ajax worthy of returning to the surface levels. He had a family to go back to, and even though you two made a great bond, you were filled with dread knowing this day would come. It made you upset.

Wait

what?

This has, really, never happened before.

You had never so much as been phased when friends of yours cane and went. Things worked differently in the Abyss, life was different. You couldn't expect people to stick around for too long.

So why were you affected by him?

Why were you affected by Ajax leaving?

He held a place in your heart, the memories you made together, how you and Skirk taught him his ability and even taught him a special tool, you called it Foul Legacy. A trick, which was used by you and your mother, you also gave to him.

But the only true thing you could do was wonder, on why a human teenage boy made you feel so much as even saddened by his leaving.

When the day came, you told him to follow the Northern Star, or Polaris. The star would lead him to the exit of the Abyss, should that it would let him leave.

But, you wont forget that looks in his eyes.

Ones that seemed to have lost their innocence, look at you with almost a sense of longing.

Or words that would ring in your head for the rest of your life.

"Ill see you again, [Name.] I love you."

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ruewrote · 1 year ago

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𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑.

PAIRING: evan buckley x fem!reader WARNINGS: blood, reader getting injured GENRE: angst, fluff SONG INSPIRATION: departure by jaron WORD COUNT: 1.1k

navigation | ask | evan buckley masterlist

you had just finished shutting the doors of the ambulance, giving it two loud bangs for them to drive before re-joining the crew.

"another great save guys, good job!" bobby says as he pats eddie on the back, walking over to ready the engine.

"god im hungry!" he blurted out and you just laugh, "what?"

"i just seriously don't understand how you're hungry after all of that," if anything you felt incredibly nauseous.

that's when you felt the sharp hot pain in your side, suddenly finding it hard to stand, it had become apparent that your adrenaline had worn off.

falling to your knees as you cried out in agony. your hands pressed to the hurt area, pulling it back to find your hand soaked in your own blood.

buck worriedly rushed to your side, his hands gently pushed your shoulders back so you laid out flat on the ground. only to find the cause of your discomfort was a large piece of glass was sticking out of your stomach through your jacket.

his first thought was to curse you as you had recklessly climbed through the windshield when you helped the young woman out of the recent car wreck, only for her to be okay and for you to get injured yourself.

he rummaged through his medical bag for something to stop the bleeding, struggling but finally found the right supplies. using his teeth to rip open the packaging before putting pressure around the glass making you groan out in pain.

"i know, i know sweetheart. you're gonna be okay." no words left you just sharp little breaths as you lightly gripped onto bucks arm, trying to give him some sort of reassurance.

he screamed out for the rest of the team, voice breaking as tears streamed down his face. the glass was deep like really deep, all evan could think about was you and if anything had been nicked internally.

bobby and eddie ran over to the two of you, you could hear one of them call for another ambulance as soon as possible. something about a firefighter down, but all you could focus on was how cold you had gotten.

"buck i don't feel s-so goo-d..." for the first time in a long time you were afraid.

"they're on their way, you gotta hold on for me, please!" he begged as he smoothed the hair that had fallen across your face with his spare shaking hand, the other still tightly pressed against your wound.

shakily you lifted your hand to brush his tears, your thumb very slowly caressing his cheek. "you'll be oka.."

the pain was all too much, it was too difficult to keep your eyes open. evan shook your face, "no. no you've got to stay awake! i can't lose you." he shouted, as eddie pulled him away from you. the paramedics put you on the gurney rushing you into the back of the vehicle immediately hooking you up to multiple medications.

bobby and buck shared a look, the captain gave him a swift nod, that's all it took for him to jump into the seat next to you. grabbing a hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly in his own as you made your way to the hospital.

beep. beep. beep.

your vision was blurred as you opened your eyes, first seeing the heart monitor and the dark sky that peaked out from behind the wonky blinds. the hospital was quiet, a little too quiet for your liking.

you turned to your other side, finding a sleeping evan in what looked like the most uncomfortable chair with a blanket wrapped around his body.

a smile tugged at your lips, he stayed with you. your smile soon fell realising the last thing he saw of you conscious was you nearly bleeding out in his arms.

readjusting yourself was harder than you thought, grunting at the pain, holding your side.

buck woke up startled, jumping up to help you lay back down.

"that was one way to get your attention," you laugh before wincing.

"you've got to be careful, that glass got you good." he says as he straightened out your blanket.

he was trying to not show his worry, you had known him far too long to see through that. "buck, buckley!" you whisper yelled, grabbing his hand, pulling him close to you the best that you could.

everything fell still. his bigger hand intertwined with yours.

"i was so worried," his voice wobbled, it was only loud enough for you to hear.

"i should've stopped you, if i did you wouldn't be here right now."

you squeezed his hand, looking up at him. "you know you couldn't have stopped this, ev."

tugging on his hand to bring him closer to you, shuffling over in your bed, patting the small amount of space next to you. "hop in?" you questioned with a smile.

"there's no way there is enough room on that thing for the both of us!" he exclaimed

"well you better squeeze in then."

and so he did, your bodies pressed up against one another. only after buck extensively checked that he wasn't hurting you or laying on any tubes.

you were now both settled face-to-face, hearing nothing but each others breaths and the beating of your machine. your heart rate elevated when he leaned in closer to run his fingers through your hair.

feeling your face heat up, closing your eyes, embarrassed how a simple action could do that to you, let alone him being able to hear it. the sound of him chuckling worried you. but the feeling of him going back to gently brushing the stray hairs out of your face comforted you.

"i know we deal with close calls every single day, but i... god. all i could think about when they took you away was all the things i hadn't told you yet."

your eyebrows furrowed and eyes reopened, "what things?"

"uh, well things like 'i love you' and also to let you know that 'you stink'," he laughed as you playfully punched him in the arm.

"hey, ow!"

"took you long enough." you exaggeratedly sighed whilst trying to keep a straight face.

"you knew?!" he exclaimed as he sat up still looking for answers.

laughing at his reaction as you held your bandage, "no, you c'mere!"

he scooped you up in his arms, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, laughter now gone. he leaned in close, his lips brushed softly against yours. smiling into the kiss you pulled him closer to you.

you stayed like that for a while, cuddling, kissing and talking. that soon came to a stop when you fell asleep listening to evan's voice, he only realised this mid ramble. pulling the covers up over you, closing his eyes, slowly wrapping his arms around you. not before giving you a kiss on the forehead of course.

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soapymansuds · 8 months ago

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Eternity and Counting

(Pt2. Also pretty short but I'm kinda just handling introductory stuff, so bear with me. Uploads will be made every Tuesday for as long as I have stuff to upload. Thank you for your support, hope you enjoy!!)

Pt1

Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)

TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad.

MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.

When did it get so bright? I'd swear I was staring into the face of the sun if it weren't for the gentle breeze that sways my hair. I open my eyes just barely, blinking away the glare of my surroundings. I'm acutely aware of several voices around me, one of which is more familiar than I'd like. How could it not have worked? It's impossible. I was certain that those herbs would take me out. And so was everybody else, because even if I hadn't done my research, Barbatos kept them locked in a special cabinet for ingredients never to be used while I was in the castle. I had to have died.

As the world around me slowly blinks into view, I'm greeted by a terrifying sight. Simeon sits crouched before me, worry and fear marring his perfect skin. His voice is muffled and foggy as he speaks, but slowly I recognize his question.

"What have you done?"

It's soft. Gentle. Like when my mother used to ask after I had made a small, albeit amusing, mess. I consider for a moment how to answer him. I want to ask him what he thinks I've done, but the sarcasm feels like it'd be more painful now than it usually would. So instead I take my moment of consideration to look around. I've been to the celestial realm before, but this feels different. Suddenly, I find my answer. A pair of answers really, fluttering against my back.

"I failed... Again..." I whisper, staring at my hands, and soon the tears falling onto them. "Fuck me, you'd think killing yourself would be harder to mess up." Something maniacal in me laughs. It's hard to say if I'm laughing at my joke or myself. Maybe it's both.

When I look up, Simeon's face has shot from worry to deep, deep concern. He's quick to pull out his phone, but I'm quicker to bat it out of his hand.

"You can't. You can't tell them." I mumble, not breaking eye contact. "It's bad enough you have to know, Luke will find out I'm sure. But they can't..."

"MC, they deserve to know! Do you know how worried they are right now? You've been dead a whole month!" He's nearly yelling, but his expression doesn't change much. It's hard to tell if he's angry or confused. Maybe he's both.

"They deserve to move on Simeon. You all do, I'm just sorry I've managed to fuck up your opportunity to do it. They got their letters, they know why I did it. So do you. It would be unfair of me to put them through all of that, give them an opportunity to live without me dragging them down, just to turn around a month later and force myself back into their lives because I didn't have to forethought to consider I could have been reborn an Angel!" It's not that I hadn't considered it. I had just assumed suicide knocked you off the divine rebirth roster. Guess I should have checked.

Simeon looks prepared to say something back but is quickly cut off by another voice.

"So this is the great MC I've heard so much about." He chuckles, stepping out from behind Simeon. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, though I do wish it was under better circumstances." his head tilts as if he's considering the whole ordeal. "I'm certain Lucifer would be ecstatic to hear the news, but if you insist on secrecy, that can be arranged."

"Michael I-" Simeon begins but stops quickly, fixing his tone and face to seem more proffesional. "Are you certain? Their absence has caused such a stir in the Devildom." He looks back at me like he's expecting that to change my mind more than Michael's.

"The Devildom can handle its own turmoil. We owe our loyalties to the angels of the Celestial realm. And if our new angel here wishes to hide their presence from Lord Diavolo himself, then I'll do what I can. For now, at the very least. And if you ever change your mind, I can help you then as well." He nods, holding a hand out to help me to my feet. I take it cautiously, finding a new balance in my stance with the additional weight on my back. I never expected these to be so heavy. And getting a better look at them now, they're huge. Rivaling Lucifer's, in span at least.

"If you'd like, I have a private garden. You may spend your days there for as long as you want." He grins, something strangely knowing in his eyes.

(Thank you for visiting my silly little stories. Like I said, uploads should be pretty consistent, but if you'd like a friendly reminder, comment to be added to the tag list!)

-Your friend, The Author

#obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me #mammon x reader #obey me angst #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon

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darlingmbappe · 2 years ago

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When We’re Ready [2] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two]

Summary: After months of not getting pregnant, your mental health takes a big hit.

Warnings: SMUT! Minors, leave. Mentions of depression, slight angst, penetrative sex, oral (male receiving), brief self pleasure, cussing, google translated French, badly spell checked. Let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

Masterlist

The days were colder and the last snow of winter was sure to come any day now. Every morning, Kylian would leave bundled up and ready to train, and you’d stay home – left to your own devices with the same bitter thoughts you've collected over the past seven months.

Getting laid off in early November seemed like a blessing in disguise, but sitting here in the chill of late February with nothing to do but wonder what the hell was wrong with your body made you realize it was more of a curse than a godsend. Maybe the universe was preparing your schedule for motherhood, you thought – needing time to ready the home for a newborn – time that you couldn't find with a job. But, still you remain jobless and without a child. Alone for most of the day, and sometimes days when Kylian went away.

Seven months seems like it’s too soon to feel this type of dreadful disappointment, especially since you’ve read it takes couples upwards of a year to get pregnant… but when you’ve prayed night after night, thoughts consumed with nothing but babies, listened to your husband raving about when the day finally comes, getting your hopes up just be let down once more… for seven months… it takes its toll.

You were surprised when you heard a key jam into the front door, a mug full of lukewarm tea clung onto your chest as you watched trash TV in the living room, pajamas buried under the comforter you dragged directly from the downstairs guest room. You watched as Ky walked toward you with furrowed brows.

“Hey.” His voice was gentle.

“Hi.” You smile forcefully. “You’re home early.”

He hums and sits next to you on the couch. “Not really… It’s past six.”

When he said this to you, even with his tender tone, he hated how your face dropped with confusion, wondering how you spent your day cooped up in here. Of course he’d noticed your deteriorating emotional strength. He wasn’t so sure how to deal with all of this, also strained from having to pretend to be strong for the both of you.

He kissed your cheek upon seeing your tears well up, pulling you into his body while you tried to hide your emotion. You laughed a little. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

He rubbed your back in an attempt to sooth you. “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay, mon coeur.”

You pulled yourself together surprisingly quickly, the veil of embarrassment not unnoticed by your perceptive husband, but doing his best to not bring it up and make you more aware of his knowledge.

He ordered take out while you took a steaming shower, satisfied at the dinner table with a mouth full of chicken fried rice. Conversations flowed innocently, but your heart faltered a bit when you got that notification on your phone from your period tracking app – you were ovulating!

Great.

The distinct chime made your food so dry in your mouth, having difficulty swallowing it. You put your phone face down on the table, pretending you didn't both see and hear it.

He stares at you for a bit. You’re looking down at your plate, saying nothing, not meeting his gaze – though you felt it. He puts his hand on yours. “Bebe…”

“Stop.” You grumble, avoiding his eye contact. “I’m not in the mood.”

He sighs, clanging his fork a little louder than he intended to in the twinge of frustration. He understood, but he just wished you wouldn’t be so hard on yourself.

In December, you both had visited a fertility clinic to make sure all the gears were working correctly – and they were. It was amazing news that gave you both a fresh drive after months of let downs, but two months and four negative tests harshly dampened that high. You had been pretty hard on yourself, even if Doctor Laclairc said you had a pristine uterus and it just takes longer for some people.

The noise clattering on his plate caused you to look up, annoyed. Kylian rubbed his temples with his head in his hands, biting the inside of his cheek.

“What?” You barked. He pursed his lips and shook his head. He was holding back, you could tell. “Just say it, Kylian.”

“What do you want me to say?” He hissed from across that table.

“Whatever you’re not saying right now!”

He takes in a deep breath of air, trying his best to keep his head level. You pointedly stare at him, waiting for something to leave his mouth. He wiped his face with a napkin, tossing it back on the table. “You’re not the only one hurting.” He placed it softly, but you can hear the deep exasperation, emotionally exhausted. It shook you a little, having seen Kylian as a steady rock through all of this. His optimism had carried you through, letting yourself cry in his arms to find comfort. Sure, you knew he felt sad, but he hasn't let you see his devastation in full swing. “Do you think I’m in the mood? I’m not. It’s exhausting.” His eyes were slightly glossy as he expressed himself, voice loud but so unsure. You stare at him, silent. “But, we have to keep trying. I want this. You want this – I know how bad you want this. So, please. Give us a chance.”

His voice was so gentle at the end, emotions soaking every word that left his chest. You dipped your head down, knowing how you'd let your thinned patience steer your words and actions. Kylian never deserved the misguided anger that you let seep through. He’d been nothing but an anchor through these tolling seasons, putting your stability in front of his own.

He gets up out of his chair and slowly walks to yours, kneeling at your side where you sat and stared up at your teary eyes.

With your hand now taken in his, he places a gentle thumb on your cheek, guiding you to look at him. “It’ll all be worth it.” He confirms, kissing the back of your hand.

You sniffled, nodding as you turned your body toward him. Your arms wrapped so tightly around his neck and his around your middle. You both breathed in at first contact, some tears falling into the fabric of each other's shirts. The way he grasped you was allconsuming. It was a true embrace that you returned. He just felt like home.

You kiss his cheek, smooching the area until you place one on his lips. Now, holding his face and gazing into him, the strong wall he had built was knocked down. You saw the pain and urgency swirl in his irises. He pecks your lips, letting his hands roam slowly on your back.

You sigh as your lips quivered. All he did was run a thumb over your bottom lip, holding back his own exploding emotions.

He stood and your eyes followed him now hovering over you, both his hands cradling your face – then the pair of you found yourselves under the covers in your shared bed once more.

It’s funny. When you first started dating, the infatuation was supernatural. You wondered at the time how you could possibly ever be upset while he had his cock buried inside of you, stare bearing down into your soul with eyes that were made of magma, fingers so curious and ready to please as they got to know the terrain of your body.

You hadn’t felt the same way about sex in months. It felt like a chore. An obligation demanded by a stupid, inconsequential chime from the app that cost you €2.99 a month. Kylian would have to work himself up half the time and you were just a hole until he filled you up. Aftercare rituals now only consisted of laying still on your back with your feet in the air. An orgasm felt selfish for reasons you couldn’t explain. It’s like you didn’t dare give yourself that primal pleasure because you had convinced your body didn’t deserve it, having failed you over and over again.

This time, Kylian wanted to wash away the notion that your recent string of bad luck wasn’t caused by one individual or the other. Through his achingly slow actions, he showed you that you weren't just two separate people trying to accomplish a goal; not like when he jerks himself in the bathroom and puts his dick inside of you right before he came. You were together on this. A unified front. Bound to each other for life.

He praised your weary body, working you up like he used to. Moving at a snail pace, taking his time, dragging his fingers everywhere on your skin. The ‘I love you’’s and the expressions of devotion he mumbled against you flooded your senses. The drag of his member that squeezed against your walls, the inexpressible and constant eye contact, the lost kisses and marks left behind… It was purely and literally making love. He made love to you. You made love to him.

A fortnight passed once more and it was time for your bi-weekly personal hell. Kylian grabbed one of the many pregnancy test boxes from the cabinet in your shared bathroom, opening it for you and setting it next to the toilet – the usual routine.

He kissed your forehead. “I have a good feeling about this one.” Kylian mentioned with a grin on his face.

“I hate when you say stuff like that.” You mumble walking toward the small toilet room to leave Kylian alone by the his-and-hers sinks.

He stops you with a hand on your arm. The look on his face was exasperated. “Come on.” He pleads. “Amour, you have to have a little bit of hope. This isn’t how we thought it was going to be like, and I know that. I feel that. But, can you please just… fake it? For me?”

You sigh with a hand on your forehead, then churning out a grin for your husband. “I have a good feeling about this one!” It was a little too enthusiastic.

He chuckled slightly at how forced your words sounded, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “That was a really good try.” Kiss. “And I appreciate the effort.”

You shake your head with a breathy laugh, but the knot in your stomach stays put, even with the tiny little grin that found its way onto your face without permission.

You’d found the easiest and cleanest way to pee on that stick after doing it so many times. It was generally quick and you didn’t find it gross at all anymore. You set the capped test on the back of the toilet seat and grab some toilet paper. When you stood up, you looked into the bowl before flushing, and the knot in your stomach intensified.

Kylian leaned against the marble with his arms crossed, looking up at you when you opened the door. “I’ll set the timer.”

You pressed your foot on the trash can pedal and threw the plastic stick inside. “Don’t bother.” You mutter, walking back into the bedroom and throwing yourself on the mattress, body turned opposite of Kylian.

He runs a hand over his scalp, feeling the anger simmering at the surface, letting his feet guide him out of the tiled room. He sees you laying on your side, staring at the wall.

“I don’t know what else to say to you!” He cries out, staring at your back as you curl further into the pillow. “We’re both doing our part. Everyone said it would take time. We knew this would take time! Not everything is going to go our way, but we cannot stop trying. I really need you to start believing we can do this. We can!”

“I can’t, Kylian!” You sob, letting yourself breakdown. This anguish was brutal and completely unforgiving. “I can’t do it.” Your words barely make a sound; calling it a squeak would even be generous.

His heart breaks and it softens him up a little. He didn’t mean to shout, but everything has just been building and building up inside of him. “Hey…” He coos, crawling on the bed over to your side, holding you apprehensively while you cry into your pillow. He pressed you close to his body when he felt the shaking of your weeps, spooning your figure that jolted in tandem with your cries. “Shh, shh… I know it hurts, amour. I know.”

“Something’s wrong with my body, Kylian. I don’t care what Doctor Laclairc said. She got it wrong. I know she did. I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, bebe. Nothing is wrong with you.” He squeezes you tighter. “Nothing is wrong with your body. Even if we find out that this isn’t part of our journey, I will never stop loving you. Okay?” His assurance only made you turn into him, burying your face in his shirt, leaving a wet stain in your wake.

You took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself, only succeeding in halting your wails of sadness, but the tears still fell freely. “I just got my period.” You confess, feeling a wave of shame and guilt once more about your failure to conceive. The bloody toilet paper was a haunting image in your mind. Kylian shuts his eyes and just squeezes you, trying his hardest to make you see that it was okay. “I can’t take this anymore, Kylian, I can’t. I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head, absolutely wrecked by the sight of your broken down persona. He’d catch you staring off into space, a depressing dullness surrounding what used to be an incredibly compelling aura. You were a shell of yourself for months now; going through the motions of daily life with a dark vail behind your eyes, losing interest in the things that used to make you happy.

He silently cried, but you felt the drops on top of your head. “It’s okay.” He murmurs in a shaky voice. “We can start trying again in the future. Maybe it wasn’t time for us yet.”

You sob again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re okay. We’re okay, amour.”

You continue to cry, Kylian finally allowing his tough-guy front drop in this moment of vulnerability. For better, for worse, in sickness, in health, ‘till death parts you from one anothers soothing embrace, you are together through it all.

The months leading up to that next summer were mundane. You’d found another job after coming to the realization that you weren't cut out to be the cute stay-at-home wife, but instead craved some sort of responsibility of your own. Kylian felt like you shouldn’t even have one because he could easily take care of you. Being married, his money was your money, but it was never about the money for you. You needed to dig yourself out of your depression hole sooner rather than later, and a consistent schedule was sure to be a nice addition to the rebuild of your mental health. Thank god for time off, though. Your bosses were huge Mbappé fans (like huge), and you weren’t past milking that for whenever you needed a couple days. You never took advantage of their generosity, but it was nice to know you could.

Summer in Paris this year had been nice, but Greece had won your heart. Kylian’s cousin’s destination wedding had been planned on a secluded portion of Corfu. The resort was huge and the pair of you were able to sneak away from your usual work duties for two days to attend. The private jet made for an easy travel plan and really any excuse to use it was sufficient enough.

The last time you’d seen most of Kylian’s family was a year ago – that night you couldn’t keep it in your pants. You had spiraled when you got to thinking about seeing them again a couple weeks ago, pleading with the gods that none of them asked about you and Ky having children. It’s been a little over five months since you decided to put the thought of babies on the back burner. Closing in on half a year and it is still painful. Mentally, you both were prepared to welcome a bundle of joy. The pregnancy books Kylian had picked up were buried deep in drawers you never thought about opening. You’d finally gotten your sex drive back in these months, having to re-learn to separate the pleasurable act with the tedious work of baby making.

Sometimes you guys used condoms, sometimes you didn’t. Still, your period came and went like clockwork. You still hadn’t erased that little habit of resenting your shedding uterus every month, but you definitely felt like you were making progress.

“This is nice.” You compliment the outdoor beachfront venue, walking hand in hand with your husband into the reception.

He looks around. “Yeah, makes me rethink our wedding.”

You scoff. “Shut up! Our wedding was awesome.”

He laughs. “Relax! Jokes, jokes…” He goofily defends, walking you both over to the open bar and ordering you a drink. “Martini?” He double checks.

“Please.”

He nods, ordering himself a whiskey coke, leaving the young bartender a tip that made his eyes almost pop out of his head.

For most of the night, you had to keep biting your tongue at the waves of people that came up to Kylian and asked for pictures. Sure, they were nice about it, but he was just trying to enjoy himself – and Kylian didn’t like telling people no. Especially not his cousin's friends. Him being whisked away left you clinging onto Ethans side most of the night, finding that Wilfried and Fayza were preoccupied with spending time with the family they didn’t get to see very often.

But, oh, the wandering eyes of a sixteen year old boy threatened to leave you on your own when he spotted a young girl about his age scrolling on her phone with the most bored look on her face.

“Ethan, no!” You whined as he brushed his suit of any pieces of lint, ready to get up and greet her. “Don’t leave me, please.”

He laughs. “Dude, you can’t keep a lion in its cage.”

You made a stank face at his bad metaphor. “That doesn't even make sense.”

“Ya-huh.” He enunciated back, typical sibling tone. “Me – Ethan – is the lion. Mystery hot girl,” he points, “a gazelle. You – sister in law– cage.”

You roll your eyes, noting to have a conversation with Kylian about his little brother's ego. “This is a family wedding, Ethan.”

“So?”

“So, what if she’s like a distant cousin.”

He makes a grossed out face. “Why would you say that? She is not my cousin.”

“You don’t know that, little man.”

“Don’t call me little man.”

“Aw, is little man embarrassed?” You coo, teasing grin plastered on your face.

“No, shut up!”

“But, you’re an adorable wittle man.” You baby-talk, reaching over and pinching his cheek. He swats your hand away as you laugh at him.

“Stop!” He stands up and smooths out wrinkles. “I’m taller than your husband.” He reminds you. “Little man, my ass.” He scoffs, giving you the middle finger teasingly and secretively in case his family saw the obscene gesture. You discreetly give one back as he walks toward the girl, a flirty pep in his step while approaching her.

You sigh to yourself, looking around and noticing that you didn’t actually know where Ky was. Last time you checked, the groomsmen had bombarded him with selfies by the DJ booth while he tried to have a conversion with his great auntie. You grab your martini and get up from the fountain ledge you sat on, a little tipsier than you thought you were. You stopped and looked around for him.

“Cute, right?”

You look to your left to wherever that feminine voice came from. A blonde middle aged woman in a red dress stands next to you holding a glass of champagne.

“Sorry?” You ask, unsure if she was talking to you or not.

The lady points to a table a few yards away – and there he was. Kylian sat talking to some people, a toddler resting on his lap. He had a huge smile on his face, poking at the little girl's cheek to get her to giggle. You grinned at the sight, loving seeing him so happy.

You turn back to the woman to respond when you look down at her dress. She was pregnant. Very pregnant. She tips back her champagne. “Don’t worry. It’s ginger ale.” You nod at her, chuckling a bit. “Kylian’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?”

You turn your attention back to him just as the little girl stuck her whole fist in his whiskey, taking a piece of ice and trying to put it in her mouth. You laugh out loud when he frantically tries to pry her little hand open. Successful, he meets your eye and his smile was radiant and full of life, shaking his head.

“He’s my husband, actually.”

She looks down at the empty martini glass in your hand. “No kids yet.” Her British accent was thick and assertive.

You shake your head at the stranger and set the empty glass down on the empty table next to you. You felt a little awkward having this conversation with someone you don’t even know the name of. She must be some extended family or the wife of a distant cousin. She seems kind, but you weren’t big on sharing your personal life with anyone you didn't trust, much less know. Especially since you’ve been with Kylian, what you say affects him. He’s in the under bright spotlight and scrutiny of the public, and if you’ve learned anything while being with a global star, it is that some people will stop at nothing to get a story.

The woman tips back the rest of her ginger ale and sets her glass down next to yours. “Are you guys trying?”

She has an audacious look now that she stands in front of you and it makes you feel unsettled. “I’m sorry?”

The lady laughs a little. “I just wondered if you and Kylian planned on starting a family any time soon.”

You couldn’t stop the bewildered look that now took over your features. “Uh…” was all you could really say. You don’t know this woman, she doesn’t know you. It’s a loaded question and frankly quite bold of her to come up to you and ask. “What?”

“Kids.” She repeated, apparently not caring about the uncomfortable shift in mood.

You opened your mouth, but had no idea what to say. You stuttered and tried to calm down with a forced chuckle. “What did you say your name was?”

She discreetly huffed.“Scheana Kingsley.”

Definitely familiar, but you just couldn’t place your finger on it. “Right.”

She waits. “So… any comment?”

“Hello.” Thank god. Fayza. She put a warm hand on your shoulder, perceptive to how tense you looked with this woman. “Scheana.” Fayza sighed. “Laurence is over by the cheese platters.” You loved how politely she just dismissed her.

The Scheana lady forced a smile at her. “Oh. Thank you.” She waved a hand goodbye with a disappointed breath. “Good talking to you.”

Your mother in law turned to you with a much clearer show of annoyance. You laugh lightly in disbelief. “Scheana Kingsley… should I know her?”

“You probably know about her. She writes for some news-gossip-pop-culture magazine.” She informs you. “Well, calling it news is charitable.”

“Unbelievable.” You scoff, crossing your arms at the revelation. “Who let her in here?”

“She’s married to Laurence over there. We try to keep our distance from them.”

From across the patio, Kylian turns his stare at you and his mother talking. You looked annoyed and frustrated, which made him so nervous. He excused himself from the small talk and speed walked over, thinking he might have to diffuse the situation – or maybe even get a scolding from his mother and his wife. God, he really hopes you two weren’t talking about him.

“My beautiful ladies.” He greets, kissing his mothers cheek then yours. “Everything okay?”

You smile at him. “You been having fun?”

“Yeah. Lot’s of fun.” He looks between the two of you. “You two are good, though?”

“Oh, no, we're fine.” You laugh it off.

“I saved your wife here from a conversation with Scheana Kingsley.” Fayza mentioned.

He shakes his head, scoffing a bit. “That woman… She has ambition, that’s for sure.” Now you remember why she sounded so familiar. Kylian had complained about his thrice removed family member’s new girlfriend a few years back and how she was a pushy reporter for The Paris Culture Magazine. “I’m surprised Laurence has kept her around for this long. What’d she say to you?”

They both turned their attention to you, waiting for you to say something. You shrug, but Kylian noticed the trepidation in your stare. “Nothing, really. Just some weird questions… I don't know.”

Thankfully, Fayza didn’t push it further, but you knew Kylian’s assuring hand on your waist meant that he knew something was up. You hadn’t asked Kylian if he’d shared with his parents that you were trying to get pregnant, but you doubted it. You would have noticed her demeanor change around you, given you saw her quite frequently. Besides, he would have checked with you before sharing that information with anybody.

There seemed to be a pattern occurring with you and Kylian leaving family events early, but the two of you were not only exhausted, but just not having a good time. The drunker the bridal party got, the more confident they felt hounding Kylian for selfies and videos. As for your mood, it was in a steady downward spiral ever since your interaction with Scheana. Just locking eyes, you both understood that it was time to surrender back into your suite.

He held your hand out of the elevator, swinging your arm back and forth. The pair of you had an overly tipsy pep in your step from the drinks you’d forgotten to count through the night.

“You look gorgeous tonight.” He kissed your cheek, a smirk overtaking his face.

You giggle shyly as he unlocks the door to your room, letting you walk in first. You went directly to the bathroom, your bladder begging for some relief. Kylian wandered in to brush his teeth as you turned the shower on, taking your jewelry off as you let the water warm up.

Kylian looked at your reflection in the mirror, shirt buttons completely undone. You were dazed. Quiet. He hated that look. He’d seen it take over you for months and finally, you were getting better.

He spit the toothpaste in the sink. “What’s wrong, bébé?”

“Huh? Oh. Nothing. I’m fine.” You turn your back to him. “Will you unzip me?”

He turns, slowly pulling the tiny zipper all the way down. He kissed the skin where your neck met your shoulder. “Did Scheana say something to make you upset?”

You shrug, taking the dress off and neatly hanging it on the towel rack. “She couldn’t have known. I don’t think she meant any harm.” You hop in the shower, shutting the foggy glass door and let the hot water run over you.

Kylians blurry figure leaned against the other side to continue talking to you. “What’d she say?”

“Just asking questions.”

“About?”

A big sigh leaves you. “Us, I guess.” Kylian listens, knowing you have more to say but are just keeping it bottled up. There was always a clear guide of communication between you two, especially because you were really good at letting things eat you up from the inside. You fiddle with your wet hair and Kylians frame behind the foggy glass stayed put. “She just… It was just weird. She wanted to know if we had plans to have kids anytime soon.” You chuckled, hiding your dejection with the sound. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“That’s not okay.” He indicates. “I’m sorry she badgered you tonight, cherie. She crossed a line.” He sounded a little angry.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. It’s fine.” He opens the shower door, causing you to jolt a little. He steps in, raking his eyes over your naked wet body quickly, and you his. “Yeah, sure, you can join me.” You joke as he reaches for the soap bar.

“It’s not fine.” He discards your dismissiveness, rubbing your shoulders with the foam. “I’m gonna talk to Laurence about that.”

You melt into his touch. “No, really, you don’t have to–”

“I’m going to.” He whispers, kissing your cheek. “No one makes my wife upset and gets away with it.” His hands roamed down your arms. “My hot wife.” His breath tickled your ear. “My sexy wife.” He presses his body to yours, nudging your cheek with his nose until you turn your face, kissing you feverishly.

You hum involuntarily into his mouth when his tongue decides to poke its way in, hand now feeling you up, tits squished between his fingers.

“Someone’s eager.” You laugh as he forces you to turn around, the hot water beating your back.

He bites the side of your neck dramatically and you laugh harder, pushing him away playfully – but he pulls you back into his chest, smiling dotingly with you safe between his arms.

“You wanna?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

You made a pensive face, pretending to really think about it. “I could be convinced.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe.” You smirk as he bites his grinning lips, hands lowering and squeezing your ass harshly.

“Do you know how hot you looked in your dress tonight?” He continued feeling you up, dick pressed against your thigh, slowly getting harder by the second. “I swear, I was so close to sneaking off to some empty part of the beach and bending you over. Driving me crazy.”

Your hands ran down the rigid muscles on his chest, feeling electric under his burning stare, hot at the thought of him fucking you out of impulse. “Do I make you feel all hot and bothered?” You ask, his stare is so dark. So needy. You lean in only a little, teasing a kiss on his lips, but never truly meeting their plush touch. “Do you start thinking about what you would do to me? Thinking about touching me? Fucking me?” He growls at your words, tilting his face forward to try and steal a kiss. “Show me.”

He grips the flesh of your ass and pulls you even closer to him, frantically showing you his desire for you with a hungry kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck and he moves his hands upward and begins pawing at your exposed breasts. The steaming water dripping down your entwined bodies made everything slick, slippery, conditions that caused you both to grip to each other's bodies for security.

You reach a hand down and grab his growing cock, pumping it loosely, trying to get him fully erect. A moan vibrates out of his throat as your movements focus on his sensitive tip, thumbing the slit, feeling him grow and stiffen in the palm of your hand.

You kiss down his neck, then move to whisper to him, sultry as ever. “Am I doing something like this when you fantasize?”

He nods under your spell, eyes drooping in pure lust. “Uh-huh. Just like that.”

Gaining control over him, you waddle your bodies back until his back hits the wall. He shivers at the cold tile in the steamy shower, but forgets all memories of the chill when you kiss down his neck, lowering your body on your knees, hands trailing down so slowly, mouth inches from his swinging member. His hips jut forward and it hits your cheek. You follow it with your mouth, letting it graze your lips in passing. The blinking stare and batting lashes almost drew blood on his lower lip from how hard he bit it.

“Open up, ange.” Angel, he called you, but you were so sinful. On his knees in front of him. Droplets reflecting off your skin from the harsh light. His eyes felt undeserving of seeing you so ready to praise him. It made him feel so mortal, so lucky. He thanked the higher power that brought you to him, feeling an intense desire to take care of you – tend to your every wish.

You took hold of him with a sure fist, darting your tongue out and licking one long strip from his base to his mushroom head, letting your lips wrap around him and sucking to hear his moan. His face scrunched. His skull lulled into the wall.

You took him in your mouth a little over halfway, moving your mouth in tandem with your hand, enjoying the way his cock nudged against the back of your throat continuously to your rhythm.

“Oui, dieu.” God, yes. He fisted the back of your sopping wet hair, pulling you off of him and forcing you to look up at him. “Touch yourself for me, baby.”

You shut your mouth and swallowed harshly. He ran his thumb against your lips, hooking it on your bottom row of teeth, opening you up once more. Your tongue licked the pad of his finger, dipping your hand between your legs and quickly finding your clit. Your brows furrowed and your eyes widened. As the moan slipped from your throat, he placed your face directly back to his throbbing cock. Now, he had control of your movements, using your hair as a handle for his intentions, guiding your mouth up and down his shaft in quick movements. You gagged when he began thrusting concurrently to the tempo he stuffed you into his pelvis, heavy heaves and grunts erupting from his chest.

You gargled and gagged on your own spit and moans of pleasure from your own fingers, tasting the salty precum that dripped from your chin as you harshly sucked off your loving husband. You kept your vision from squinting together as you met his eyes through teary eyelashes. He fucked your face like you hadn’t had sex in years, rough with his actions and getting off on the way you were taking it.

His dick disappeared inside your mouth swiftly and urgently until he couldn't resist. He stopped thrusting, looking deep into your eyes – mouth still stuffed with him. He pushed his hand, demanding you take every inch of him down your open throat. You choked on him, the muffle of your gagging making him see stars.

You hit his thigh after a few seconds and he pulled his hand away. You gasped for air, noticing for the first time how sore your knees were against the hard tile. He let out a long hiss at the loss of your mouth, watching through heavy blinks as you sat against the opposite wall in the small area – knees red and patterned with the lines from the floor. Your chest moved with your big breaths, smiling and commending yourself for the avidity in Kylian’s eyes.

With your knees pulled to your chest, you slowly opened your legs, fingers playing with yourself as you made a show of how good you were making yourself feel. His pupils dilated at the way you ran your free hand across your thigh then up your chest, pitching a pulling your nipple with your lip tucked between your teeth.

He whined – a desperate noise that came up naturally. He reached down to touch himself to the sight of you, pumping a slow fist against himself. His long strokes teased his tip until he shuddered, eye contact non-negotiable. You couldn’t look away if you tried. Your swirling moans echoed in the small chamber – his eyes glued to the way your own fingers stretched and spread your pussy. Your own were attentive to the tug at the nape of his base. Though, you both looked up at the same time, hypnotized by your partners mutual ogling. He steps forward, hand still on himself. You reach for his hand and he helps you up, immediately pulling you by the small of your back into his lips, tongue lapping yours, absolutely famished.

He had clocked the little ledge in the corner from the second he walked into the intimate shower. He put his hand out behind you so the edge wouldn't hurt you, then used his strength to hoist your slippery skin up onto it. He placed himself between your legs, your back pressed to the wall, the shelf only fitting half of your rear — but it was the perfect height for him to fuck you like he wanted to.

He lined himself up quickly and desperately spreading your pussy wide open for him, pushing in and dragging out. One long moan came straight from your throat, clinging onto his neck to keep yourself in that same position.

“Fuck.” He grumbled. “You feel so good.” His pace was deadly, tip poking and poking that spot. It made your eyes cross, resting your damp head on the wall. “Been wanting to do this all night. Merde. Les choses que tu me fais, tu me rends fou.” Shit. The things you do to me. You make me fucking crazy.

You moaned in response, too focused on the way his neatly trimmed pelvis rubbed against your clit every time he pushed inside of you. It felt euphoric. Magical. Goddamn perfect. The only words you could muster out made him giggle through his heaves. “Please don’t slip.”

Your arm knocked over a few shampoo bottles when he buried himself deeply inside of you and stopped – making you borderline scream from how deep he actually was, and this position made everything feel… more.

He groaned so loudly, his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’, and you understood why when you felt him cumming inside of you, hot spurts surely dripping out. You didn't notice him biting your forearm until he let go of it, keeping his mouth against you before turning to look into your eyes. A slightly apologetic look turned cocky when one hand reached for your sensitive nub, rubbing just the way you like it, still inside of you.

“Oh, shit…” You breathed, eyes connected to the way he pleased you. “I’m fucking close.”

“Vulgar tonight, are we?” He teased your language, a tired smirk on his face.

“You just…” you begin, but he shuts you up with a small unprecedented thrust. “Fuck!”

He hisses, not really being able to take the overstimulation, but continuing to push into you sporadically – purly for your pleasure. Thankfully, it didn’t take you long to reach your climax.

He didn’t need the warning upon feeling your legs give out slightly, pressing against you to keep you on the shelf. They started shaking as your eyes closed, a fierce moan exploding from your wet parted lips. He moved his hips with a contorted face until he felt you calm down, now whining and whispering to the touch of his fingers as they slowed down, pressing down harder on you before disappearing altogether.

You pat his back lazily and he pulled out of you carefully, setting your wobbly legs on the slippery floor. You’d completely forgotten the shower was on as you watched it drain down. Kylian held your waist steadily, both breathing heavy. He lands two gentle taps on your bum. “Let's not waste anymore water, yeah?”

The vacation, though brief, was absolutely refreshing. It gave time that you and Kylian needed to feel closer. The offseason couldn’t come soon enough. You didn’t have to revolve around his schedule during those weeks because he was just home already. To you, there was nothing better than coming downstairs at 2pm on a Tuesday and seeing Ky there, drinking orange juice straight from the bottle, or being able to binge a series with him much quicker because he had time for more than just two episodes. By all means, being married to him shouldn’t be easy, and it’s not necessarily that simple… but it should be way harder. Maybe you were just more patient, but you’re almost certain it has everything to do with him. He made time. He made an effort. He tries his damn hardest. How could you possibly hold that against him?

You didn’t notice the way you were staring at him, chin in the palm of your hand, daydreaming about your entire history with Kylian Mbappé – a man with no time to spare, but he damn well made sure you fit in his schedule.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” He grins, setting down his coffee across the table from you in your shared Parisian home.

You blink, smiling in embarrassment. “No reason.”

You push some eggs around on your plate. He leans forward. “What were you thinking about?”

You shrug at him, still smiling. “Greece.”

His laugh gave away his fondest memory of that trip. “We gotta do that trip again soon, amour.”

“Yeah, like they’d give you that kind of time off twice within two months.”

His head shakes, snickering at that complete impossibility. “I think they’d send me a fee for even asking.” He looks at the time on his phone. “I should probably get going, though.” He gets up and collects his things.

“Drink lots of water today, okay? It’s supposed to get really hot around noon.”

“Yes, dear.” He drones jokingly, smirking as he makes his way over to you, pecking you quickly. “Love you.”

You squeeze his hand quickly. “Love you, too.”

Now, your separate days begin – his a little earlier than yours, but you still just wanted to envelope yourself back inside the covers. You were thinking about calling out sick, which wouldn't be a complete lie. The scrambled eggs were not sitting right this morning, or maybe it was the Thai restaurant you ate at last night. Either way, you couldn’t remember where you put the Pepto-bismol. The empty space in the medicine cabinet left you wondering if Kylian had drunk up the last bit and hadn’t bought a new one yet.

You maintain your breathing steady to keep yourself from throwing up as you shuffle through the drawers. Praying it was in the last one, you pull it open desperately, but only facing three boxes of pregnancy tests. The rush of everything fell still, the air much quieter as you got flashbacks from last year.

You didn’t let yourself think about it much, but you never really got over not getting pregnant. Mentally and emotionally, you were still there. The pain and devastation got easier to mask, but they stayed with you.

It was time you got over it, or at least lost the fear of not being able to have children... the fear of not being able to provide Kylian with a child. If you kept on being bitter about this whole ordeal, you don't know if you'd ever be in the right headspace to try for a baby ever again.

You stare at the tests and shake your head. “Fuck it.”

You snatch one from the drawer and beeline to the bathroom, peeing on the stick and thinking about how dumb it was that you had let this trivial little test ruin your for months. This time, you wouldn’t feel the dread collect inside your stomach. It would be okay. It wouldn’t hold power over you anymore.

Immediately walking out, you press down on the pedal of the trashcan and you watch it fall into the bin, feeling proud of yourself for not caring about that little plastic stick or what it had to say about your body. You weren't pregnant right now… and that's okay.

You sigh, a proud feeling swirling with sadness was still progress.

“Oh, no.” You mumble, feeling your stomach churn and running back toward the toilet, puking horrifically. It was a bad one. Maybe calling out sick was for the best. Who knows, it could be a stomach bug and contagious… but, unfortunately, you felt a lot better afterwards.

It was probably best if you went to work. There’s a promotion you’ve been chasing and you had just taken those days off for the wedding last month. Trudingly, you got ready to leave the house, rushing a bit since you hadn't realized how late in the morning it was.

Thank god you went. It was a hectic day; some project deadline wasn’t met and, for some reason, people turned to you for the solution. You were still relatively new at the company, but today, you really felt like you were doing something right. You left the office with a pat on the back from your big boss. That felt amazing. Kickin’ ass and taking names.

You were late coming home, texting Ky to let him know that you wouldn't be there when he got back. He texted back a simple:

Ky: :(

To which you responded with:

You: Bad day?

Ky: Just miss you. You were on my mind a lot today

You frown while walking to your car, wanting to get home quickly and hug him tightly.

You: Baby :( I’m on my way home now.

You: I have a big kiss just for you <3

The second you walked through the door about half an hour later, Kylian embraced you tightly, taking you by surprise but you easily fell into his arms. You could feel his stress radiating from his body as he followed at your foot around the house. He was quiet in asking if you wanted to take a shower, but his eyes were loud in telling you he just needed to be close to you tonight.

It was an innocent shower, his silent begging for a back rub and skin-to-skin contact was obvious as he kept his hand warmly on you at all times.

“You okay, hun?” You ask gently, tracing the frown line between his eyebrows after turning the water off.

He nods, eyes sleepy even though it was only eight o'clock at night. “Have you eaten?” He changes the topic, opening the shower door and wrapping you in a towel.

You shrug. “I haven't really been hungry today.” Ever since you threw up this morning, the thought of eating made you grimace. “Did you feel weird after last night's Thai?”

“I felt fine. Why? Is your stomach bothering you?”

You shake your head no as you shuffle through your drawers. “Just a little queasy this morning.”

You both get dressed quickly and lazily, surprised at how early you were deciding to turn in. Kylian was quite a bit needy tonight, pawing and tugging you close to him while he put on Pretty Little Liars… He would deny it to anyone, but he was obsessed with that show.

“What the hell is she wearing?” He tusks at the screen, apparently not approving of Spencer's outfit for the Prom.

You giggle into his chest, shaking your head slightly. “I’m gonna go pee.” You pat his bare chest and leave his side, hopping over to the ensuite.

You wanted to be quick about it, your feet cold from the chilly tile and lack of socks. Kylian had opened a new toothpaste packet and left the empty box on the counter. You roll your eyes. He’s notorious for leaving things that should be trash anywhere but the trash can – an unfortunate side effect of having someone pick up after you as a professional athlete. You bitterly grab the cardboard box and press your foot down on the petal of the trashcan, but freeze when you spot the pregnancy test you took that morning. You wanted to look at it.

Is it worth looking at it? You hadn't even thought about it all day, which is a huge step for you. Only a few months ago, you would have been debilitated at work – and you sure as hell wouldn't have been able to step up like you did. You would have been crying quietly in your cubicle, taking far too many bathroom breaks.

But… it was winking at you. Calling your name. Taunting you face down in the plastic liner.

With a gulp and a deep breath in, you shook your head disapprovingly at yourself. It’s gonna be negative, you think, preparing yourself for disappointment as you fish it out of the bin. You gave a deep sigh before letting your eyes trail down to your hand where the thing burned a hole on your skin.

The gasp that came from your mouth was severe, loud, alarming.

Two lines. Pregnant.

“Oh my god.” You mumble, much too quietly for Kylain to hear you behind the closed door. You begin laughing as it settles in what you’re seeing. “Oh my god! Kylian!” You desperately call. “Kylian!”

“What happened?” Kylian shoots out from under the covers and your current brain functions were a little crossed as you gaped at the test. The positive test. “Babe?” He comes into the bathroom with a furrowed and concerned look. “Are you okay?”

You respond with a look he was unfamiliar with. Immediately noticing the tears that had collected on your lash line, he reached for you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, seeing him for the first time as the father of the child inside your stomach. “Kylain.” He had never heard his name come from your lips with as much affection as it did right now.

He gladly took the hug you attacked him with, but the mood inside the bathroom was a little bewildering.

“What’s going on, amour?” He coos, but you can only sob joyfully into his shoulder, holding the test behind his back as you embrace him – staring at the double lines like it would suddenly turn in one and you'd realize that this was never real. But it was. The results were right there in the palm of your hand. He mistook your cries for sadness, placing an assuring hand on the back of your head. “Tell me what’s wrong.” His voice was so soft.

“I love you so much.” You smile, pulling back and planting a long, wet kiss on his unexpecting lips.

He’s so confused. “I love you too…” He raises an eyebrow when your hand meets his, an object placed in his palm. “What is this?” He asks before looking at it.

It takes a second for it to process, and you find yourself wishing you had a photographic memory, wanting to see his first face of realization again and again for the rest of your life. His eyes might as well have fallen out of his head with how wide his eyes went.

“Wha…” He stutters, completely transfixed on the test. “Is this real?!” He finally looks at you, excitement would be the biggest understatement of the century.

“Of course it is.” You squeak, still clinging onto your husband as you both look at the stick. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant.” You both take a big breath in, crying simultaneously, absolutely elated.

Kylian stares at the stick with a squinty and wrinkly smile before he looks at you — eyes tender and grateful. He drops the stick in the sink basin, grabbing your face with his two large hands, forehead pressed to yours to let the moment really register. He kisses you as best he could with the smile that engulfed his features, wrapping you up in his arms, truly holding you.

“I love you.” He whispers from his chest, an earth shattering smile finding a permanent home on his face. “We’re having a baby.”

A/N: Okay, I don't hate it, but it's not my fav. It's finals in uni and I'm a wee bit preoccupied with those responsibilities. Still though, I think I had some good parts in here! It's mostly just the ending that's bugging me. Also, I know nothing about pregnancies and all that jazz so this is pure Google info so I apologize for any inaccuracies!

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thriftedtchotchkes · 1 year ago

Note

since seeing that pic of pedro’s arms I’ve literally been FERAL all day…. would it be possible for you to write something short about joel’s arms? 🫶🏽 (maybe like how they look when he holds you, when you guys make love, when he’s working, when you hold hands etc) is this weird or even possible idk I just love arms

hi lovely anon!! read this and immediately ran to write it, but i uhhhh missed the part where you said short and went a lil ham. hope you enjoy!

here in your arms

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, post-outbreak, language, fluff, mentions of body insecurities, comfort, smut, lots and lots of arm touching

word count: 1.8k

It’s hot as all hell in this bedroom, but you’re choosing to ignore it this morning. You’ll gladly sweat to death, even melt into a damn puddle if it means that Joel’s very warm, very naked body stays wrapped around you.

As long as you can relish his thigh nestled between your legs, and those thick, thick arms pillowed under your head and draped over your waist. You’d burn in hell for all you care. Careful not to wake him, you turn your head slowly to press a kiss into his bicep, and the muscle twitches against your lips.

The sudden movement startles a soft gasp out of you and fills you with heat so much worse than the stifling humidity in the air. You go completely still, holding your breath for a few moments while you wait to see if he wakes up, but the rise and fall of his chest maintains its steady rhythm against your back. Curiously, you lean in to kiss him a second time and, shit, there it goes again.

An intrusive thought suddenly pops into your sleep-addled brain, telling you how good it would feel to sink your teeth into the firm, velvety skin. How salty it would taste on your tongue, and how he would probably unconsciously resist you, that twitch becoming a full-blown flex. You give into it before you can stop yourself, roughly biting a bruise into his arm, sucking hard when the muscle spasms into your mouth.

And that definitely wakes him up.

“Christ—w-what the—,” he rips his arm out from under you, and you immediately mourn the loss as your head flops onto his pillow. “—what…baby, the fuck was that for?”

You turn over, looking up at him sheepishly. He looks bleary-eyed, his soft, graying curls in complete disarray, but you can't bring yourself to feel particularly bad. That was totally worth it.

He eyes you expectantly when you don’t immediately answer, still looking dazed and a little stunned after being woken up so abruptly.

“Wanna tell me what that was?” he asks again, voice slurred and thick with sleep. He's propped up on his elbow above you, bicep still in reach, so you press an apologetic kiss into his reddening skin...and your teeth marks.

"I...honestly, I got nothing," you laugh, nuzzling into the crook of his elbow, mouthing wetly around the edges of the bruise. "It was right next to my face, so I kinda just went for it."

Your tongue darts out to taste him and it's even better than you thought, heady and so distinctly Joel, so you continue your path, shifting to the side to brush your lips along his forearm. He tenses, almost imperceptibly, but you feel it keenly, the intricately corded muscles shifting under his tanned, weather-worn skin.

"You could take it as a compliment," you continue, tilting your head to throw him a cheeky smile. He quirks an eyebrow as if to ask how waking him up at ass o'clock in the morning on his day off could be complimentary. "I'm just admiring all that work you've been putting in on those extra patrol shifts."

He looks a little dubious, and it makes your heart ache. For as long as you've known him, and even more so since you've been together, Joel's never been great with praise, especially when it comes to his body. Maybe it's the age difference or just aging, but he wouldn't allow himself to be vulnerable with you for a long time, emotionally or physically.

He'd hide himself from you, always mumbling things you hated hearing about the softness of his stomach, the lines adorning his brow, or the skin under his arms, and it would make you furious. How dare he say any of that when you love all of those bits and pieces so much?

So, you've made it your personal mission to make sure he knows exactly how sexy he is whenever you get the chance, whether he's covered in grime and viscera, or completely naked and inside you.

"Probably coulda waited until later, don't'cha think?" There's a tiny smile forming on his tired face, and it encourages you to keep going.

"Yeah, but isn't this more convincing? You looked so good, I couldn't even help myself," you say, running your fingertips along a beautifully jagged scar that runs right through where you bit him. You squeeze his arm teasingly, and he flexes for you, on purpose this time. "So strong," you joke, your tone completely contradicting the ache worsening in your core.

He chuckles, and his whole body shakes with it, jostling the thigh still wedged between your legs. That familiar heat from earlier returns with a vengeance as it drags across where you're still slick with last night's release, and you inhale sharply, catching his attention.

"Ya like my arms that much, huh?" he mumbles, voice unexpectedly gravelly, but the way he's looking at you is so fond, full of affection and something a little more complicated.

"I really, really do," you reply softly, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his wrist to drape his other arm over your waist. He wraps himself around you, pulling you tight against his chest, and you feel so tiny in his arms. Protected.

And he feels so powerful. You barely get the chance to nuzzle into the coarse hairs tickling your cheek before you’re flipped on top of him, knees bracketing his hips. Your hands shoot out to steady yourself and land on his shoulders, squeezing once you've settled into his lap.

His eyes meet yours, and there's that complicated look again, the one you still haven't figured out. Your mind races, searching for the answer, until his hands splay across your waist, thick-fingered and broad.

And then he's lifting you up, just enough to line himself up with your entrance, and easing you down and up until he's fully seated inside you.

You breathe out a sigh of relief in unison, adjusting to the other as sweat drips freely down your bodies. The room is still scorching, even hotter now with the rising sun and your combined exertion.

That beautiful flush Joel gets when you're intimate has started to spread from his cheeks down to his neck, spilling across his chest and into those perfect goddamn arms, straining with the effort of holding himself back from fucking into you like he wants to.

But you want something, too.

"Joel, can you...," you breathe out, feeling a little shy for asking but needing it badly enough to go through with it anyway. "Fuck, can you do it, please?"

He looks confused but so needy, nodding his head before he even knows what you're asking for.

"'Course, baby, whatever you want," he grits out, grip tightening on your waist. "Jus' tell me 'n I'll do it."

"Use me. Want you to show me how strong you are—handle me," you suck your bottom lip wetly into your mouth, trailing your fingers from his shoulders downward, digging your nails into the hard planes of his deltoids. He hisses out a breath through his teeth. "Will you do that for me?"

In lieu of an answer, he lurches forward, sitting up with you in his lap to give you exactly what you asked for. And it's better than you ever could've imagined.

The solid muscle in his upper arms bulges as he drives you up and down his cock, and you wrap your hands around them greedily, feeling every expansion and contraction. Your mouth waters as you watch his thick, prominent veins strain against his skin, and you're hit with a sudden, strong urge to bite him again.

So, you do. You bend down to suck hard at the taught skin, and his responding groan is so loud and drawn out, you feel it rumble beneath your lips.

"Shit—baby, you keep doin' that, 'm not gonna last long," he moans into your ear, still bouncing you on his cock, showing zero signs of slowing down.

Fuck, how is he so strong? He's lifting you up and down like you're a ragdoll, shaking your entire being with the force, and you clench tighter as you hurtle closer to the edge. You separate your mouth from him to drop your head into the crook of his neck so you can watch him. Watch the raw power flowing through his body, and all those perfect parts he doesn't like about himself work you like no one ever has before.

And he's watching you, too, with so much want and desire, and, ah. That's what it is. That look—it's appreciation. He looks so grateful for you that you want to drown in it, surround yourself with it.

"Good. Hold me," you whimper, muffled as you throw your arms around his shoulders to bury your face into his skin. "Hold me close when you cum."

He must've been right there, teetering on the cusp, because suddenly his arms snake around you, crushing you to his chest as he pistons up, cumming as deep as he can reach. They tense against you erratically, matching every pulse of his cock as he empties inside you.

He moans softly and sweetly in your ear as you cry out into his, your lower half squeezing him rhythmically as your orgasm crashes over you. You let him grind up into you through the aftershocks until you're both too exhausted to stay upright.

Tipping backward, Joel brings you back down onto the bed with him and rolls you over onto your sides. You smile up at him lazily, still happily nestled up against his chest, and he bends down to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

"Hell of a workout ya just put me through," he mumbles, sounding incredibly amused and thoroughly tired out.

"Seemed like you enjoyed yourself, though," you snort, shifting just enough that his cock slips out of you, a thick glob of cum dripping onto the sheets. "I know I sure did."

"Yeah, bet ya did," he rolls his eyes, pinching your sides teasingly. "'Specially since I was doin' all the damn work."

"But you were so good at it," you can't help but wriggle your arms out from where they're wedged between your bodies to stroke his arms again. And hopefully his ego. "And you looked so good doing it."

His cheeks tinge that pretty shade of burgundy you love, and you know you hit the mark. He ducks his head down to kiss your cheek.

"Uh-huh. Next time, s'gonna be your workout," he murmurs, sighing as you start to massage his sore muscles. They twitch tiredly under your careful attention. His eyes flutter closed as the heat and exhaustion finally catch up with him, muttering sleepily, "'n I get to enjoy the view."

You lean up to kiss his lips, chaste and gentle.

"Deal."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller

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glassartpeasants · 9 months ago

Text

another drabble for ya'll. happy easter lol

eustass kid/lufffy x gn!reader

warnings: ya'll are in a relationship with luffy, angst, implied cheating, pre-timeskip and all that jazz

Edit: I added more to this then when I first posted it cause I didn't like how it ended.

~~~

"Fuck this dumbass island, and fuck you, Luffy!" You say under your breath while walking towards the nearest bar. Your overwhelming anger makes you kick rocks around with your shoes. Dust flies up in the air as angry tears slip down your face and onto the ground below.

Once again, after reminding him several times, he had stood you up.

It was aggravating and embarrassing. You felt like a total idiot for waiting at the park for 2 hours looking around, waiting for your 'boyfriend' to show up. The amount of pitiful looks and whispered words directed at you only made you want to hide in a hole and never come out.

He's always done this. You can't imagine a single time when he was on time for something where it was just supposed to be the two of you. While he'd always apologize after realizing it, it was just too often for you to ignore.

The rest of the straw hats told you that Luffy was just like that. To not take it personally. But how could you not? He was always on time for other things, so why could he be on time for once in his life when supposed to be on a date with you?

You remember telling your woes to Nami, and while she was a great listener, all she could do was yell at Luffy for forgetting once again. It wasn't like she could force him to hang out with you.

It's just that each time, it's the same thing he's told you.

'Oh, I promise I'll remember next time!'

'I promise it won't happen again!'

'You can count on me to be there! I promise!'

He is always making promises he can't keep. It's like he thinks those words are something you can just throw around. Well, to you, they weren't.

Thankfully, you can drown out the loud voices in your head when you see the sign of a local bar in your eyesight. It looked sketchy, but you could handle it yourself if anything were to happen.

Entering the bar, you see everything in between pirates, commoners, and most likely bounty hunters, all downing alcohol like it was their last day on earth.

You manage to see an empty booth in the far back of the bar. It was probably the closest you'd get to being able to drink alone and undisturbed.

Walking towards the back, you sit down at the booth. Putting your elbows on the table and holding your head in your hands, you watch as a waiter or bartender approaches you.

"Can I get you anything to eat?" Despite the dingy bar, the smile of the man asking for your order calmed your suspicion.

"Strongest alcohol you've got and a basket of fries."

"One of those days?"

"Like you wouldn't believe." Rubbing your eyes, you hear the man walk away. The sound of the crowd laughing and roaring makes your heart heavy. Everyone is hanging out with their buddies while your here alone. Just as you were about to rub your eyes, you saw a bright flash of red on your right.

Moving your eyes to the color, you see a man laughing with what you assume is his crew. He was drinking like the alcohol was simply water to him. His pale skin against the lights of the bar made him slightly glow compared to how dark the bar truly was.

His hair was such a vibrant red that it was hard not to get caught just staring at it. It was held up by what you can only assume are goggles based on how far he was away from you. His jacket looked somewhat soft despite the spikes that lay around the collar.

"Here ya go. And your fries should be out in a minute." The waiter's voice knocks you from your trance as you hear him set down your drink.

"Oh, thanks. But before you go, do you know who that man with the violent red hair is?" You nod your head in the direction of the man you wish to learn more about. The waiter's head turns and shows a look of shock before looking back at you.

"You don't know who that is?"

"Can't say I do. I don't read the papers much."

"That's Eustass 'Captain' Kid, the most infamous pirate of the new generation. He has a bounty worth 350,000,000 berri's. He's known for being hot-headed and not very civilian-cautious. He's also known to have eaten a devil fruit that allows him to control metal."

"Is that so?" You're surprised to have never heard of him if his reputation is that bad. If what the waiter told you was true, then he wasn't someone who you wanted to be on his bad side.

"Hey, give him another of whatever his last drink was. I'll pay for it. Tell him that I think he's cute. I'll give you a big tip if you do." The waiter looks at you in surprise before laughing.

"Trying to get on his good side?"

"Perhaps. That and he is cute regardless."

"Well, if you die, don't blame me."

"Wouldn't dream of it." You watch the waiter leave and go to wherever he kept the alcohol. Leaving you alone in your mind.

'Why did I do that? I have a boyfriend. I shouldn't be flirting with trivial captains. ' Letting out a sigh, you rub your face. Your frustration with your current situation got the best of you, and now you're playing with fire just because your boyfriend doesn't know how time works.

Turning your glance towards the ruthless captain, you see the waiter giving him the drink before pointing at you. You can feel your heart beat against your ribs as you watch the man stand up and make his way over to you.

The aura he gave off certainly fit his bounty, as it felt like you were going to encounter death himself. But there was just something so interesting about him—the confidence and how he held his head high, not caring about what anyone else thought of him.

'Okay. Play it cool.' You managed not to jump in fright when the man you had looked at only seconds ago slammed his hand on the table you were sitting at.

"So, you're the pipsqueak who sent the drink, aye?"

"That'd be me, yes. I just thought someone as cute as you deserved a free drink." A smirk plastered onto Kid's face as he looked you up and down. You swore your heart echoed through the entire bar when you watched him sit on the other side of you.

Having him closer than before, you managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes. Their amber color really complemented the red lipstick along his lips. You can also see the freckles that you weren't able to see from so far away earlier. If you were to get closer, you'd probably be able to see different types of constellations that hide among them.

"You're starting there, pipsqueak." You could practically hear the smugness in his voice.

"Sorry, Captain. It's not every day I get to ogle at the most infamous pirate of the worst generation. Especially up close." You were probably inflating his already massive ego, but it was better than being crushed by some random metal.

"You're not half bad for a straw hat. Does your captain know you like to chat up other rival captains?"

"I'm sure he won't mind just this once." Just then, the fries that you've been waiting for finally show up and is placed between the two of you

"Oi! Grab me a drink while your at it." The waiter only nods before scurrying away to fulfill Kidd's request.

"So what brings you to this dingy bar Captain?" You look at the man in front of you while internally screaming at yourself to not give into the temptation that Kidd brought along with him.

"It's out of the Marines sight, and I thought I might as well get drunk before dealing with a bunch of nobodies at that auction house." Kidd's laughter echoed in the bar and caused your heart to thump rapidly.

"Anyone ever tell you, you have a pretty laugh?" Putting your head in your hand, you tilt your head slightly while smiling. You watch as Kidd freezes for a second before going back to normal. His pale skin supporting a light blush across his freckled face.

"You trying to suck up straw hat?"

"(Y/N)."

"Huh?"

"My name. It's (Y/N)." Taking a swig of your drink before continuing.

"Thought you might like to know it." A smirk plays onto Kidd's face before he cracks his knuckles.

"Hey, what do you say we get outta here? My ships not to far and I'd like to give you your own personal tour." You could see the lust in his eyes and the way he spoke. You knew what he was implying when he said 'personal tour'. Even though you knew you should deny the offer given you were already in a relationship, there was just something alluring about him.

"I'd love too." What Luffy doesn't know wouldn't hurt him right? After all, you'd still be waiting at the park right now.

#one piece x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustass captain kid x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy x reader

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the-nameless-poet · 11 months ago

Text

Found My Forever in You.

Summery: Instead of losing the Quidditch tournament Harry wins the Housecup.

A/N : I wrote one where Harry loses the match. You can check it out.

"Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins the HOUSECUP!" The whole quidditch field was echoing with the gleeful yells and cheers of the Gryffindor house. They had won the quidditch cup. You could hear the shouts of 'Potter! Potter!' and 'Weasley is our King!'.

It was your last year and your boyfriend had just won the house cup. You were beyond proud of Harry. The poor boy had spent most of his time practicing for this exact moment. His eyes were shining brightly behind his round glass frames. His broom even before going down on the ground came zooming to where you were sitting on the stands.

It gave you butterflies because even in this huge crowd he could easily find you. The people beside you cleared the space out a bit for him to hop off his broom and onto the stands. You stood up, you knew what was coming. He's been doing that since you two started dating. It had become your new tradition and it was also his superstition.

He pulled you in close by your waist, catching your lips with his and kissing you passionately infront of the whole school, while everyone cheered. It was like locking his luck for the next match as he always says.

You pulled back and gave him a dazzling proud grin. You embraced him tightly in your arms as he picked you up and tightened his hold around your waist. After a while he put you down and held the golden snitch to your eye level and you kissed it like you've always done and sealed the luck finally by pecking his lips once more.

"God, I'm so proud of you!" You beamed up at him.

"I love you, princess so much! Now I have to go, meet me at my dorm in 30 minutes, yeah?" You nodded your head and he kissed you one last time and flew back to the ground to recieve his house cup as the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

After everything was over you kept your word and went to his dorm. You heard his shower running and decided to wait outside for him to give him some time to relax his muscles.

After few minutes you heard the shower stop running and a very wet haired Harry Potter came out of the bathroom looking delicious as ever. He had a white towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets were running down from his hair to his neck, to his chest and finally stopping at his abs as the towel absorbed them.

He smirked at you for your couldn't take your eyes off of the sight that was infront of you.

"Eyes are up here, my love." His face smug and decorated with slight redness.

"yeah but mine wants to stay at your abs for a bit more. Any problem?" You said, still staring at his abs that he acquired by all the hard work he had done in the name of Quidditch.

He shook his head and chuckled at you boldness. "Merlin, I love you!" He took your face in his palms and gave a long kiss to your lips. You were sitting on his bed so it was easy for you to wrap your arms around his abdomen and lay the side of your face against his stomach as he lovingly stroked your hair.

"I am so proud of you! You did so great today! Oh and that bloody save from Flint's bludger was so fucking awesome! And the way you zoomed after that Snitch! Good Merlin! I don't think I've seen anyone ever fly that fast! You're like the God of Quidditch!" You suddenly got this load of adrenaline as you fussed about how great Harry played. You could see how flustered he got just by you praising him.

"Yeah? You love the way I play?" His voice had gone down an octave, sounding extremely seducing. You knew what he was trying to do and you were not at all against it. I mean he was already in a towel what else did you need more. Plus you both had to catch up to all the dates you had missed because of his quidditch practice.

"Mhmm. I do love the way you play...So fast and sooo good." He groaned at the way you said those words.

He immediately pulled you up and started attacking your neck with desparate kisses. He had been working so hard the whole year and he couldn't comprehend the way you've supported him. He wanted to make you feel special tonight no matter what. You've been extremely understanding even though he had cancelled at least 9 dates.

And you understood because you knew his love towards Quidditch wasn't just about the game, it was also about his want to connect with his father. Ever since his first year when he found out that his dad was a great quidditch player he had wanted to be one as well. Just to be like his father more. And you understood that. You had two loving parents and you didn't know what you'd do if you lost one.

Harry kept his lips on your neck as he started to tug at your shirt but then he suddenly stopped. You whined at the loss of contact.

"Harry, why'd you stop?" You whimpered.

He took a step back and closed his eyes for a moment. It worried you. Did you do something wrong?

"Baby, what is it? Is everything alright?" You asked with your eyebrows furrowed.

"Ofcourse it's not. After ditching you on those dates, I'm here trying to get you to sleep with me! Merlin! Why are you even with me, I don't know!" You were speechless. You didn't know how to respond to that.

"W-what are you trying to say, darling?" You looked at him worried.

"Why do you even wanna sleep with me?" You were shocked at the question but regained yourself quickly.

"Because you're hot, you're my boyfriend and I love you. I think it's the teenage hormones most of the times though."

He sighed and gave you an 'are you seriously kidding me right now' look.

"No. I mean I ditched you on a lot of dates because of quidditch and this whole year all we've done is sleep together and didn't spend enough time just you and me talking because my selfish arse didn't have time. And now that I'm free, what am I trying to do? Get you to sleep with me instead of taking you out on a nice date or atleast hangout with you properly! Merlin I don't even know how your year went! I am officially the worst boyfriend in the history of boyfriends..." He sat down on his bed and hid his face in his hands.

You sat down beside him and poked his head. He looked up at you, a defeated look on his face.

"You do know that I really don't mind at all that you were being passionate about something that you love right. I know we've missed few dates here and there but you've always made it up to me-"

"Yeah. With sex. But do continue." You sighed. Your heart was heavy with emotions. No one had ever cared about these small things that Harry did. He was always this sweet and thoughtful. His first priority has always been making you feel good, making you feel comfortable and most of it all making you feel as if you were the most beautiful creature in the whole world.

"Harry, you've had me as your priority for a long time and I still am and I know it. You always made it your priority to make me feel good about myself, make me feel protected, wanted and cared for.

So, I really don't mind you making your passion your priority along side me. To be truthful, I actually love watching you play quidditch because, darling, you get this passionate glint in your eyes and that fire to work hard to be the best and ofcourse your will to make your team win and your determination towards the fact that there isn't any mistake from your part because of which your team might lose a match. You're wonderful at Quidditch. And adding it into your list of priorities makes me feel proud of you.

I know at first your priority was to defeat Voldemort but that shouldn't have been. You were just a kid just like us but even then you stuck to that. You are so much more than you think you are. And I would be the selfish one if I asked you to spend your whole time after me instead of having you do something you actually love. I have zero complaints about this year.

And do you even know proud I felt when you caught that Snitch for me? I love you, Harry. And there are gonna be times when you won't be able to give me as much time as you do and I would be a bitch girlfriend if I gave you a hard time about it. But I promise that if it ever gets extreme I'll let you know and maybe you can make it upto me the way you do." You finished your little speech by giving Harry a kiss on his forehead.

"you really do feel that way, princess?" He asked and you nodded your head. He stared in your eyes for a while and then suddenly his face lit up.

"I've got an idea! Just go to your dorm and can you please put on that favourite dress of mine and meet me in the common room in like 30 minutes. I'm going to make it up to you for the times I've missed the dates. Come on." You got up from his bed and went straight to your dorm.

Hermione was there with Ron and both were in middle of *ahem* something. Both let out a loud scream.

"Oh, quit it! Like you both haven't ever walked in on Harry and I. Anyways I don't have time for this I have to get ready in 30 minutes and don't worry I'll do that in the bathroom. So, I guess you can carry on." You quickly got the dress that Harry insisted you to wear.

He loved this dress on you because you looked gorgeous in it, it was a gift from him on your first valentine's together and he had an easy excess to your cleavage and thighs. He sometimes even makes you wear it without any occasion.

You quickly got dressed and put on a little bit of make up and did your hair. You checked your watch to see you only had 5 minutes left. You quickly knocked on the bathroom door from the inside to let Ron and Hermione know you were getting out.

You put a hand over your eyes and got out once a small reply of 'get out' came from Hermione.

"Hermy, let me borrow your cherry lip tint. Fast. I only have 5 minutes. You felt a hand give you a little bottle and you quickly left. You sat down on the girls dorm staircase and applied a layer of lip tint and let it set for 25 seconds and took it off and wiped your hand with a tissue.

You quickly climbed down the stairs to see Harry in black dress pants and a white shirt with it's sleeves rolled up to his elbows and first button undone, giving you a perfect view of his chest. You swore to godric you could melt right there.

You ran to him and wrapped your arms around his neck as he held you up by your side and gave him a little peck. He smiled brightly at you.

"you're looking gorgeous, my love. So beautiful, like red roses and lipstick stains on your little love notes." Your heart stopped right there. That was the way he always complimented you but each time he surprised you with the words he came up with. You could tell just by looking in his eyes that he loved you more than anything in this world. You blushed and hid your head in the crook of his neck.

"You're looking extremely handsome too. I swear to godric you're gonna make my heart stop one day, looking like this." You gave him another quick kiss.

"Thank you so much my pretty girl. Alright, what I have arranged for you might not be that extravagant but, I hope you like it. Come on." He took your hand in his and led you out of the gryffindor common room.

In the middle of the way he blindfolded you and tried his best not to get a boner while you made a really dirty joke about the situation.

After you finally reached the destination he took off your blindfold and you were met with the most romantic sight ever.

He had arranged an amazing date at the astronomy tower. You had the full view of the starry sky and a picnic blanket was laid down on the floor with all of your favourite snacks, which included, chocolate dipped strawberries, your favourite gummies, cherry wine and cheese, treacle tart and ofcourse garlic parmesan knots. The whole tower smelled wonderful because of the scented candles that were laid down at a safe distance from the blanket. And there were lots of normal candles illiminating the tower. You loved your Harry.

He had managed to get this done in just half an hour. You loved him beyond comprehension. He was amazing and the best boyfriend.

You both sat down and talked for as long as you can't remember. The little whispers of I love you's and the sweet kisses that tasted like cherry wine with your endless love for each other. The way he listened to you rant about how your year went. And how you excelled at your NEWTS. How you still wished to open a cute Bakery with a bookstore. He simply sat there and adored you and your dreams about yourself and both of you together.

He talked about how he wanted a home with you in a nice quiet place, how he wanted to have a family with you and how he wished to grow old by your side. He promised to support you with your dreams and how he would be so lucky to have you and your unbelievably delicious treacle tart by his side for the rest of his life.

You both knew that you were too young for thinking about all these things, to be dreaming about all these things but you both knew that you'd wait for each other a lifetime if it meant that you'll be together forever.

Harry was really very proud of himself for doing this. He did admit that he got the house elves to help him get all this done in no time. He didn't care that he missed the celebratory party that the whole gryffindor house had planned in the respect of the quidditch players. He was happy that he got to spend time with you. And listen to you beautiful voice talk about your beautiful future together. He wanted nothing but very beautiful you. Whenever he looked at you he felt like he was looking at the mirror of erised. All of his dreams were you and just you. You had been by his side through thick and thin since you first met in your first year at Hogwarts. Then he had found a best friend in you and after few years he's found his forever in you.

And that's when he realised that without you by his side, all the battles he had won would've been worthless.

#harry potter #hjp x reader #harry potter x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter #i love harry potter #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #james potter x reader #hogwarts houses #the chosen one #harry potter books #harry j potter

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ilovetheriddler · 4 months ago

Note

Broski you have been the only thing keeping me sane these last couple weeks. Would you feed a starving girl with some more Oswalda x reader. Perhaps some sweet fluff where Oswalda is stressed with having to kill both of her sons and the police being on her ass so reader comforts her. I CRAVE OSWALDA CONTENT.

Thank you so much! I'm glad that you've been enjoying my writing! I'll glady write some more Oswalda, there's just not enough content for her out there! I hope you enjoy it!

Calming Waters.

(Batman The Caped Crusader) Oswalda Cobblepot x F!Reader.

Word Count: 694.

Contents: Fluff, Comfort, Affection, Petnames, Non sexual Bathing together.

This was just great! It's just fantastic, in fact! First, she had to dispose of her sons, and now the police were onto her! Oswalda was having to put a lot of work in to hopefully remain just a few steps ahead of the cops, but it was extremely stressful and draining for her.

Of course, you felt very worried about her well-being as you watched her trying to get everything in order. You tried to come up with what would be the best way to comfort your girlfriend during this more stressful time for her. Ultimately, you landed on the idea of running a nice bath for her. Perhaps that would help her unwind just a bit? You made your way to the bathroom and turned on the warm water, pouring just a bit of bubble bath solution to hopefully make it more enjoyable before carefully lighting a few candles as well.

Once it was done, you made your way into her office, just in time to see her slam down the phone she was on in a fit of frustration and annoyance. However, a slightly more pleased look crossed her face as she realized that you had walked in.

"My dear, I'm quite busy right now. Did you need something?"

"Well, it's just... you seem really stressed, and I wanted to try and hopefully help with that..."

"Oh really? Then please enlighten me, Darling. What exactly did you come up with?"

"I thought a nice relaxing bath might help, I mean, at least I hope it does... I don't like seeing you stressed, Ozzy. You already have so much you have to worry about...."

Oswalda seemed genuinely touched by your concern and worry for her well-being, It was sweet of you.

"A bath? Well... that's quite considerate of you, my darling. And I presume that you'd, of course, be joining me as well, correct?"

"O-oh! Um... well, if you want me to, then I'd gladly do so!"

"Perfect, then please, my dear, let's preferably do it before the water gets too cold."

The two of you head into the bathroom and proceed to get undressed and get into the tub, sinking into the nice and warm water, The pleasant scents of ivory and honey from the candles creating a relaxing atmosphere. Oswalda let out a content sigh as she leaned back against you.

"Hmm... I will hand it to you, my love. This is fairly nice. Now, could you perhaps help me wash my hair? I'd appreciate it a lot, darling."

"Of course... but only on the condition that you help me with mine as well?"

She chuckled lightly at your fair condition before offering a slightly playful response.

"Oh, very well, my dear, whatever you want... you drive such a hard bargain."

You pour some shampoo onto your hands and carefully start to massage it into her scalp, making sure to get a decent amount on there before grabbing a cup to scoop up some water and then rinse it off. She lets out a pleased and relaxed hum as you go about washing it.

She then helped you wash yours as well. Once finished, the two of you just soaked in the tub a bit longer as you enjoyed each others company. She hummed a light and soft tune, which added to the already perfect atmosphere, Oswalda had such a gorgeous singing voice. In fact, you were positive that you'd never get tired of hearing her. It always made you feel so at peace.

After a bit longer of just basking in each others presence, you both got out and, once noticing the time, decided to go ahead and get ready for bed. You crawled under the covers and snuggled up into her arms once you were in bed. Overall, it seemed as though your plan to help her relax had worked as much as it could in this situation. Eventually, the two of you fell into a peaceful slumber for the evening. Oswalda had a lot that she had to take care of, but it could wait until the morning. Tonight, she'd just enjoy having you in her arms.

#dc comics #batman #batman the caped crusader #oswalda cobblepot #oswalda cobblepot x reader #x reader #fanfic

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sathanasslut · 6 months ago

Text

I'm back at it again :)

(To Sodo's detriment, it seems...)

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Rain / Dewdrop / Swiss

Tags: Dom/Sub/Sub, Overstimulation, Punishment, Voyeurism

Word Count: 2,938

Read on Ao3 or below the cut!

"What the fuck was that?" Rain hisses, shoving Dew's shoulder. Hard. Dew growls in response, stumbling a couple of steps back. "You need attention, huh? Is that it?"

Rain was ever so good at being the calm one of the group, a pleasant, mild-mannered ghoul who tried his best to talk everything out before resorting to more drastic measures. Usually. Not today, nor after Dew had sunk his teeth into Mountain's palm during one of his hissy fits.

"Knees." Rain commands, the thudding in his chest making it hard to hear anything else. "Now."

Dew relents only because he can smell the genuine anger radiating off of his packmate. He knows he's pushed it too far, but that doesn't mean he's going to just roll over and weep in apology. Regardless, he kneels as he was instructed.

In one swift motion, Rain's glove is removed from his hand and used like a whip against Dewdrop's cheek, leather biting into his freckled skin.

"God- what the fuck!?" Dew gasps out, a hand applying pressure onto the crimson mark flourishing on his face. "The hell is wrong with you?"

Fingers wrap around Dew's throat, applying pressure without hesitation, deftly cutting off his airflow.

"I don't wanna hear a goddamn thing come out of your mouth unless it's your safeword. Understand?" Rain's voice is low, gravelly, taking a tone that can only mean Dew is not gonna be in for an easy night. "You've got hell to pay, so I need you to shut up and take it already."

Dew pulls at his lip with his teeth, the metallic tang of blood teasing at the tip of his tongue.

"Or fucking what?" He just can't help himself. Not when Rain is already so riled up, and Dew can already feel the heat pooling in his abdomen. "Gonna fuck me about it? You know I can take anything you've-"

If the choking didn't shut him up, Rain's two fingers being forced into his open mouth all the way to the entrance of his throat sure did. He gags, not having any warning that would enable him to quell the reflex. Rain seems to trill at the noise, taking great pleasure in Dew's discomfort.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up." He punctuated every word by shoving his fingers a little further into the warmth of Dew's throat, his body responding to the familiar sensation of pushing deeper. "I won't be the one fucking you tonight. You of all people know only good boys get the honour of pleasing me. And you… you haven't been a very good boy, have you, Dewdrop?"

The way Rain says his name makes him want to melt, his tone soft, a complete contrast to the fury evident in his eyes and the bite behind his words.

Just as tears begin to well in Dewdrop's eyes, Rain pulls his hand back, wiping the saliva onto Dew's stinging cheek.

"You've been bad. Very bad…" Rain takes a step back, and Dew finally feels like he can breathe for a moment, despite the slight ache blossoming in his chest at the realisation that Rain is disappointed in him. "But that's okay, because I do have a good boy. One that I know is just desperate to help me discipline your hissy ass once and for all."

Dew tilts his head at that, like a cat hearing an unfamiliar noise. Rain… has a good boy? He's always been Rain's good boy… So what the fuck is this?

Rain smirks at the look of confusion written across Dew's expression.

"In, boy." Rain commands, and the door cracks open agonisingly slowly. Dew's mouth falls open at the sight of Swiss pushing his way through the doorway. The door clicks shut behind Swiss, and he locks it without a second thought.

"You see, brat…" Rain glances at Dew, stepping closer to Swiss. "I've tried for so long to put you in your place alone, I think it's time I accepted I need some help. Some muscle." His hand wraps around one of Swiss' biceps, squeezing gently. "It's just so convenient that my good boy deserves a reward, right when my bad boy decides to earn a punishment."

Bad. That word is starting to get to Dew now, the submissive mindset kicking in and triggering the drive to be good for his dominant. But he hasn't been good, and he's becoming overwhelmed by shame.

"Is this… really okay?" Swiss' voice is like Dew's never heard it before. That usual smooth tone hidden away by a blanket of submission and obedience. Dew grits his teeth.

"Are you questioning me?" Rain's voice doesn't hold the same anger when he addresses Swiss that it does when he speaks to Dew, and that only serves to piss him off more. Swiss only shakes his head, which seems to appease Rain.

Dew wants to speak up, to ask what's happening, what's about to happen - but his cheek still stings, an aching reminder of Rain's warning to 'shut the fuck up'. It doesn't matter though, as Rain clearly picks up on Dew's curiosity.

"Do I need to spell it out for you?" There's that harsh tone again, irritation. "Our little multi-ghoul here has made such good progress with me recently, he deserves to let loose and have some unrestrained fun. And you… you've exhausted all of my other options, so I'm going to allow him to exhaust you."

It finally clicks in Dew's head, and he looks between Rain and Swiss like he's watching a tennis match.

"There it is." Rain sighs, squatting besides Dew and grabbing a handful of his hair. "You take your time sometimes. Don't you, brat?"

Brat. He doesn't like being a brat, but he knows he's earned this treatment.

"He's gonna… we're gonna-…?" Dew stutters out, his eyes trained purely on the awkward stance Swiss has adopted besides the bed. It sends a shiver down his spine, seeing his cocky, free-spirited bandmate all placid, tamed.

Rain doesn't even deign that with a response, just turning his back on Dewdrop and sauntering through the room, seating himself in an armchair besides the bed.

"Bed. Now." His eyes are on Swiss, but Dew knows the order is for him. He tries to find his way to his feet, but a leather glove implanting itself into the wall besides his head forces his body to freeze. "Crawl." comes the amended command.

So, crawl he does. He can feel Swiss' eyes on him, but the multi-ghoul is silent. It's eerie, his head ringing with all of the teasing comments he would assume Swiss would make in this scenario, but the reality is completely void of them.

Once he's situated atop the silk sheets, another command comes. "Hand and knees." for him. "Behind him." for Swiss.

They both assume their positions, still fully clothed. Dew's eyes are trained on the baby blue sheets below him, but Swiss' can only focus on Rain's form, lounging in the armchair.

"What, don't know what to do with the pretty little reward I'm giving you, baby?" Rain laughs softly, looking at the way Swiss has frozen behind Dew like a deer in headlights. "Undress him, touch him. Use him."

Swiss' body tingles with anticipation, his hands already reaching to unbuckle Dew's belt now that he's been given explicit permission. Dew squirms at the slow way Swiss' hands work to tug off his trousers, fighting the urge to just throw off his clothes himself and get this over with.

"Is this okay…?" It's that meek, disconcerting tone again, a mockery of Swiss' voice. They've fucked before, plenty of times, but he's never been exposed to this side of Swiss, and it's really throwing him off.

"Obviously. Get on with it." Impatience continues to gnaw at Dew, he'd been wet since the moment Rain had thrown him into his bedroom, and he really didn't want to waste time pussyfooting about.

Though, his impatience proved to be a mistake.

Neither of them even noticed Rain getting out of his seat until his hand is forcing Dew's face into the pillows, pushing him into an arch that has Swiss aching.

"Watch your fucking mouth." Rain growls, his warm breath grazing Dew's ear. "Your his treat, brat. He can toy with you in whichever way he likes. He doesn't even have to fuck you if he doesn't want to, you know you haven't earned it."

The pressure is gone as soon as it came, and Rain plops himself back into his seat with a small hand gesture telling Swiss to proceed.

Dew shudders. Oh Dark Lord, Rain is hot when he's scary. Swiss' mind spins, noting that Dew didn't move an inch from his arched position even without Rain enforcing it.

"Anything goes?" Swiss queries, looking to Rain for confirmation, which he receives in the form of a nod. "Oh, perfect..." He's practically purring at just the thoughts of what he can do with this blessing.

Swiss finally tugs off Dew's boxers, having to physically restrain himself from gnawing at the wet patch soaking into them. It doesn't bother him too much, not when his eyes stray from the fabric to focus on Dew's pretty pussy, right in front of him, all exposed and just dripping.

"Oh, Sathanas…" His trousers become impossibly tighter, saliva pooling in his mouth. He sees every small movement in Dew's body, the slight twitch as a drip of slick runs down his pale skin, the way he presses his thighs together as Swiss just stares.

Dew can smell the lust in the air, but holy fuck, Swiss is still not touching him. He feels like he's going to explode, or at least he's moment's away from giving in and shoving his own fingers in - though, he can only imagine the punishment he'd get for that. It doesn't matter though, not when he feels Swiss' breath shudder between his thighs, and a tongue runs firmly against his core.

"Shit-" Dew gasps, fingers curling in the silk of Rain's bedsheets. He has to stop himself from mewling, pleasure already coursing through his veins.

"Does he taste good, baby?" Rain practically cooes, a slight smile on his lips as he sees both of his boys already shaking with pleasure.

Swiss can't form words, not when his mouth is busy devouring his bandmate, fulfilling a thirst he didn't realise he had until now. He can only hum in response, whining happily as his tongue breaches Dew's entrance, delving deeper in search for more of this utterly divine taste.

Dew feels the sweat beading on his back, his stomach tightening and thighs shaking with every single movement Swiss makes. That hum almost sends him over the edge, his clit pulsing at the soft vibrations. His tail curls around his own thigh, a grounding sensation to keep him from truly getting lost in this pleasure. It's not much of a punishment, he thinks, but he knows not to underestimate Rain.

Dread begins to dawn on Dew as Swiss' actions become more fervent, his muscles clenching and his hips bucking. "Im… Swiss, fuck, Rain- I'm-..." He pants, his eyes squeezed shut as he pushes every ounce of focus into keeping himself under control.

Rain let's out a cold laugh. "Already? Pathetic." Dew hears him step closer, but his eyes stay screwed shut. He thinks whatever dark look Rain has in his eyes, paired with the way Swiss is using his tongue, would demolish his restraint in an instant.

"Puppy?" Rain's voice softens slightly, his hand gently pulling Swiss' face from between Dew's thighs. Swiss pouts slightly, his lips glistening. "You're gonna push him over the edge. Is that what you want?"

Swiss nods, his chest rising and falling rapidly with irregular breaths. His brain is a fog, the only clarity is his primal instinct to have his mouth enveloped in Dew's warmth again already.

"I see." Rain grins, his eyes sparkling with pleasure. "Go on, then. Destroy your toy, puppy."

Dew doesn't care that Swiss' teeth graze catch on parts they shouldn't be catching on, not when he can feel the pleasure forcing its way into every inch of his body. He doesn't even know when his orgasm hits, his entire body short circuiting as Swiss' tongue fucks him over the edge and doesn't stop.

"Oh fuck- Oh Satan below, please, fuck-!" Dew gasps, his body pressed flat against the sheets as he squirms and begs. Swiss pays him no mind, flipping him onto his back in one swift motion and tugging his thighs over his shoulders, immediately diving in for more.

He has unfettered access to Dew's clit in this position, and he doesn't hold himself back one bit. He sucks it harshly and tugs at the sensitive bud with his teeth, his tongue flicking it skillfully.

Dew can barely inhale enough to beg, the muscles in his thighs cramping so hard they ache. He doesn't know what the words spilling from his mouth actually are, just that Swiss isn't stopping, and the low hum of Rain's laugh indicates that he's saying something truly pathetic.

He doesn't care, not when he feels like his soul is being torn from his body by the heat of Swiss' mouth and the dexterity of his tongue.

Dew's sharp tug at Swiss' hair elicits a sinful moan from the multi-ghoul, and that alone is enough to send Dew over the edge again. He thinks he might have actually screamed that time, and through his tear-filled eyes he can see drips of squirt dripping down every inch of Swiss' face.

"How easy…" Rain chimes in, admittedly feeling himself becoming quite overwhelmed by the sight of Dew's shaking body and Swiss losing himself in the pleasure of another. He hadn't even noticed until then that Swiss was grinding onto the sheets, the zipper of his trousers fighting for its life. "He's such a slutty toy, isn't he baby?"

Finally, Swiss pulls back to breathe, his tongue lapping up the juices dripping from his moustache.

"Toy…" He pants, his eyes roaming Dew's trembling body. He knows his primal side is taking over, and he isn't resisting it one bit.

Dew yelps as Swiss shoves his thighs apart and plants himself between them, claws tears his shirt to shreds. He doesn't get a chance to say anything, not before Swiss' tongue is back to work, this time tormenting a pierced nipple standing proud on his chest. His head spins, and he can't do anything but moan and squirm.

Rain almost pities Swiss, watching as Swiss' clothed crotch bucks up between Dew's thighs, imitating fucking the smaller ghoul in a fit of desperation.

He can't help but enjoy it, though. His puppy is just so needy, and he's putting all of his effort into committing this image to memory.

"You can fuck him, pup." Rain takes it upon himself to remind Swiss, knowing that if he doesn't, Swiss is gonna blow his load in his boxers like a horny teenager. "Show him how good you can be."

Both of the ghouls on the bed respond with whines and groans, Swiss' teeth tugging on the nipple piercing as his hands fumble with his trousers. He pulls the waist and of his trousers and boxers down the smallest amount possible, and in one moment, pushes himself inside of Dewdrop.

Dew's back arches on the bed, his claws digging into Swiss' back. He doesn't even get a second to adjust, before Swiss is pulling back and fucking himself back in, further.

"You're not even all the way in…" Rain sighs, a hint of humour behind his tone. "Fuck him properly, come on."

Swiss whines, his lips forming a pout, but he obeys. He takes a deep breath, and eases himself all the way in.

"Tight… wet, hot…" The words practically drip from his mouth, meant as a form of praise, but coming out as nothing more than lewd rambling. "Deep, perfect..."

Dew's body doesn't seem to care that he's already cum twice at this point, his clit throbbing at Swiss' words and his guts twisting, as if begging Swiss to go deeper.

Rain can barely restrain himself at that point, finally slipping a hand beneath his jeans and palming himself slowly. Oh, his sweethearts fit together so well.

It's barely a few moments before Swiss' thrusts stutter and that familiar warmth pulses inside of Dew, his own cunt clenching and spasming at the sensation. His claws puncture holes into Rain's bedsheets, and he can hear his own pants and whines flooding the room.

But… it doesn't stop. More specifically, Swiss doesn't stop. Dew spots a cruel grin on Rain's face through the tears in his eyes. Fuck. This is a punishment, after all.

It could've been hours, days, weeks, before Dew is given enough of a moment to come back to himself. Swiss is still inside of him, filling him to the brim with his cock and cum, but his movements have stilled entirely. They're on the bed, all three of them apparently.

"You can be a good boy, when you want to be. I knew you had it in you, precious." Rain is… talking to him? Dew's tail ripples with happiness, and he nuzzles the water ghoul's neck affectionately. "That's it, good boy."

Good boy. He's been good.

"Mmph… good." Swiss mumbles, his mind fried from the pleasure, but a fragment of clarity reminding him of the aftercare Dew deserves after such a rough session. "Good boy."

"Good boys." Rain affirms, his once cruel grin entirely wiped away by the genuine smile the sight of his bandmates cuddling pulls out of him. "My good boys."

#swissdew #raindrop #ghost band #ghost fics #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #sodo ghoul #dewdrop ghoul

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