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#i ain’t gonna face no defeat fic
atoriid · 4 months
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There’s a thief among us
-flash fic-
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summary: Half of your closet has been missing…who could it possibly be?
incl.: Hint of established relationship, pet names, crack, implied male reader, but could be viewed as gender neutral reader, time stamp!: before shit went down bad
pairing/s: Gojo Satoru x male reader, Gojo Satoru x gn reader
warning/s: none
note: it was supposed to be a smol drabble but uh it got too long for that whoop!
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It seems like there’s a thief in the dorms. The evidence was indisputable, seeing as almost half of your closet is empty. You searched through your hanged clothing looking for your uniforms. !!!Multiple sets, gone!!!
“What the heck-” You began to rummage through your drawers. “What?”
Your drawers were also half empty. “Even the underwear drawer?!”
“What the hell is going on??” You scratched your head trying to remember if you recently did your laundry and forgot to fetch it? You looked all over your room, examining every corner anywhere your clothes could’ve ended up at.
None
“Well damn…” You breathe out a defeated sigh, hands in a praying position. “Yaga-sensei, I am extremely sorry in advance.”
.
.
.
You ran into Geto on your way to your classroom, he raised a questioning eyebrow, looking at you up and down. “Dude, why are you-”
“Not in uniform?” Your eyes reflected someone who’s clearly defeated. “Geto…I think there’s a thief in our midst.”
“Ha?” You placed your hand on his shoulder for dramatic effect.
“Gege, half of my closet is missing.” To your irritation, Geto burst out laughing. “Geto Suguru! I’m serious! Half of my closet’s missing!”
The bitch continued to laugh. “Geto! Stop it! I’m miserable here!”
Geto shook his head, amused by your misery. “Fine, fine, it is so unfortunate your clothes are gone.”
You glared at him, suspicion clear on your face. “You know something…”
“Dude, you're the only one that’s in the dark.” He snickered as he slid open the classroom door.
“Whad ya meannn??” You followed him inside and then closed the door; at first, you only saw Shoko sitting in her chair reading some magazine. “Shoko! Be careful, some pervert took my clothes! Even my underwear!”
“Oh? How unfortunate…” She nonchalantly flipped a page.
“Shoks! Not you too!”
Sighing, Shoko took her eyes off her magazine and pointed to the side. “Do yourself a favour and look over at Gojo.”
“Huh?” Confused, you slowly looked at the direction. Lo and behold, the one and only Gojo Satoru animatedly talking to Geto…wearing your uniform.
“Gojo Satoru!” He jumped from his seat before cheekily looking at you. Geto, knowing what’s about to happen backed off.
“Yesh~?” You power walked to him. Satoru couldn’t help but gulp, not because he’s scared-oh no no, he’s the strongest; he ain’t scared of anything. He found your angry face quite hot.
You slammed one hand on his desk, roughly pulling on the collar of your uniform that is currently being worn by the Satoru. “Mind telling me what you're doing with my uniform?”
He nervously chuckled, “I dunno what you mean, handsome.”
Your grip tightened; Satoru wished it was his neck instead.
“Give me my uniform, Toru.” The gall of this boy to stick his tongue out at you. “Toru! If Yaga-sensei sees me like this, he’s gonna have my head on a stick!”
“Not my problem, pretty boy.” Having none of it, you swiftly tried to unbutton the shirt. He theatrically crossed his arms holding onto his shoulders, swinging side to side. “Ah! Yamete kudasai! Take me out on a date first!”
“I already did, you doofus!” Satoru shrieked and started to playfully slap your hands away as you tried to slide the sleeves off him.
“Not in front of Shoko and Suguru babe!”
Before you could yell back, the classroom door slammed open. “Gojo Satoru! Y/n L/n! What the hell is going on?! L/n, stop undressing Gojo!”
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word count: 578
☆masterlist☆
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garbinge · 14 days
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The Original Swiftie Of Chicagoland
Richie Jerimovich x F!Reader 30 Day Fic Challenge
Word Count: 2.6k words A/N: Back at it with everyone's favorite <3 This is a little more cutesy-cringe kick your feet and giggle than I usually write but I hope you all still enjoy!! Also please be kind, I have not attended the eras tour so there might be inconsistencies there!
Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content.
The Bear Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @quixscentsposts @dadbodfanatic-x @adorable-punk-superheroes @lodeddiperrodrick @isalver @captainweasleybarnes @musicwithteeth @fancyvoidtragedy @shinebright2000 @knight4xmas @gills-lounge @navs-bhat @cosmicak (have been a bit inactive on tumblr so this might not be up to date, if you'd like to be added to my The Bear taglist please shoot me a message!) Other fics from this universe
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Richie’s voice was like a morning alarm to you as he spoke up in the car. You had began to doze off a few minutes ago, as you came to it you recalled the last thing you remember talking about. 
“What’s your favorite Taylor Swift song?” You had asked Eva as you all waited in the drop off line. 
“Enchanted.” Her answer was quick but not as quick as her follow up. “Taylor’s Version.” 
“Always TV.” You leaned back in your seat when she answered, your hand extending out to turn the radio up slightly since there was a Taylor mix currently going. 
“My Dad’s taking me to go see her, at the Era’s tour. I’m making friendship bracelets at school, too.” 
“That’s going to be so much fun.” You meant what you said but you felt the sleep starting to fade over your eyes. It had been a late one the night before, you were up searching for those cards for your dad and one thing turned into another and suddenly your entire apartment looked like it threw up boxes and memories. 
When Richie texted to see if you were up and wanted a ride to the restaurant, it felt silly to say no despite the complete lack of sleep you were running on. 
It was now that Richie’s voice was alerting you awake. “Sorry I think I fell asleep.” 
“You did, I brought you back home.” He was pointing over to your apartment building. “You’re shot, ain’t no way you’re gonna help tear down walls today.” 
“Tear down walls?” You questioned, when you offered to help today you thought it’d be painting or planning, not demolition. 
“Yea there was a raccoon, and then the pipe with the thing, so it’s all gotta come down.” 
“You miss one day and you miss everything.” Your hands were rubbing your eyes until they waved him off. “I’m fine, I can help Nat with something.” 
“Humor me.” Richie’s eyes closed in a tad bit of frustration. “How bout I come pick you up later in the afternoon.” 
“Only if you bring me whatever Syd’s making for lunch.” You were starting to grab your things when Richie stopped you. 
“Um, real quick.” You could tell he was feeling weird about something, he was stumbling a little bit on the few words that he was speaking which wasn’t like him with you. 
“What’s up?” You fell back against the passenger seat, your head leaning to the left to stare at him.
“Sorry, I should just ask you later.” He shook his head, and turned to put his car back on so he could leave. 
“Ask me now.” You smiled. 
“Nah it’s fine.” He couldn’t make eye contact with you. 
“Richie, I won’t be able to sleep if you don’t tell me.” The fake seriousness washed over you and that made Richie look over at you and sigh in defeat. 
“You know how Eva mentioned that Errors Tour.” 
“Eras.” You corrected him with a smirk. “Yes, I do.” 
“Yea, well, Cicero he got me 3 tickets, and I was wondering, I mean, if you wanted to come with me–us.” Watching Richie stumble on his words was humorous to you, the smile grew large on your face. 
“Are you asking me out, Richie?” 
It had been a while of whatever this was with Richie, and the two of you skipped over the going out on dates phase and went straight to the sex and sleepovers at each other’s places. It made it understandable why he was nervous in asking right now. 
“Yea, I mean– Eva also asked if you could come.”
“Well then I can’t say no.” 
He looked at you, and the Richie you knew came out for a minute, “but if it was just me asking you would’ve?” 
“I would’ve thought more about it.” You teased him, not being able to keep your face neutral as you said it. “I don’t want to interrupt though.” 
“Trust me, I think I need you there, I don’t know shit about this.” 
“Oh, you realize this is going to consume you over the next few weeks, the Era Tour isn’t just a concert, it’s a lifestyle, we have to plan–prep, there’s going to be jewels, glue, tulle, and glitter, lots of glitter.” 
Richie looked at you with a bit of a crazy look. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle the outfits, all I’m gonna need from you is Taylor on repeat, everytime you’re in the car.” 
“I already feel like I do that.” He chuckled and turned to you thinking you’d be laughing too but your face was serious. “Alright, yea, I’ll listen.” He lifted his hands up. 
“Great, I’ll get started on everything else.” You started to gather your things, despite the conversation between you two, the exhaustion was still front of mind for you. 
As you moved to step out of the car, and close the door, you bent down to look at Richie. “You know you’re not getting me out of bed until I have a full 12 hours of sleep, right?” 
He turned the gear of his car into drive and nodded. “Yea I know, I wasn’t gonna come in the afternoon, just knew it’d be the one thing that’d get you out of the car.” 
________
You were currently painting the 13 on Eva’s hand to match your own, she chose purple glitter to match her dress, a child’s version of the enchanted dress. You had on a custom denim jacket that called out all the different eras of Taylors paired with a “I <3 T.S.” t-shirt. 
“Do you think we’ll match?” Eva looked down at her dress and began to twirl. 
“Totally, but honestly?” You faked looking around to make sure no one was around before whispering. “I think you’ll have her beat.” 
This made the girl giggle until Richie walked into the room. “We got like 15 minutes before we should head out, the traffic is going to be awful, I hate driving to the Soldier Field, it's a nightmare.” His stress completely paused as he looked up and saw his daughter. “Wow you look beautiful, kiddo.” He squatted down to be at eye level with her and smiled as she twirled around again. 
“You need to get ready.” She stopped twirling and took a look at Richie. 
He looked down and frowned, “I am ready, babe.” 
“No you need an outfit.” Those last two words were emphasized so deeply that even though Richie had no context or understanding of The Era’s tour aesthetic, he fully understood what his daughter was talking about. 
“Oh no, I was just gonna go like this, I–” 
You cut him off, “I got you a little something” You moved to take something out of the bag you packed. “And I think we can convince your dad to have a 13 on his hand, right?” 
“Yes!” She gripped her fist and chugged her arm down as she said it. 
“Here.” You handed the t-shirt to Richie. He practically did everything but roll his eyes as he grabbed it and unfolded it. It was a blue t-shirt and in the upper left corner was The Beef’s logo but in place of the typical large “BEEF” writing was the word “SWIFTIE” in all caps so the whole thing read “The original SWIFTIE of Chicagoland.” 
“I knew it’d be like pulling teeth to get you in anything else.” He turned the shirt around so now Eva could see it. 
“It’s kind of perfect.” She nodded in acceptance. 
“Yea it is.” His head raised to look at you and nod in gratitude. 
“But you’re not getting out of the 13, let’s go, if I just do the outline we can be on the road in 5 minutes and we’ll make it with plenty of time.” 
_____
The seats were phenomenal, although you couldn’t put it past Cicero to know someone who knew someone to get seats like this. Your seats were on the floor and you hadn’t been to a concert in the pit like this in years, and you’d never been to one where they had seats set up in the pit. This was next level. 
“Are you overwhelmed.” It was a question spoken more as a statement as Eva guided both of you to your seats. 
“Very.” He said looking around at everything. 
Once the show started, the overwhelmingness of the concert itself disappeared and the insanity of the show took over. It was truly a production and a work of art combined. The crowd was electric, the lights from the wristbands, the screams, the costumes, on stage and in the crowd, it was incredible. 
As the entire stage turned purple, everyone’s bands flashed a purple tone, and the screens on the stage rose up, you could see a large purple dress appear and instantly you felt the tug at your jacket and Eva was grabbing you to stand up on the chair. Her face lit up in a smile as she saw Taylor practically matching her. 
As she began singing Enchanted, you turned to Eva and began singing with her, you knew this was her favorite song and this was a moment she had been waiting for all night. You were dancing with her, twirling her around, she’d twirl you around, a real core moment for the both of you honestly. Richie was on the other side of the young girl, making sure she didn’t fall but you’d catch his gaze falling on you occasionally and just act like you didn’t. Each time you’d immediately turn back to Eva and then the stage. Funny how in the midst of a crowd of thousands of people, you could feel like the only people there. Your face felt hot, not in embarrassment but just high off the vibes of everything. The atmosphere, the song. All of this running through your mind as you swayed back and forth mumbling “enchanting to meet you” right before the first chorus outbreak.
Quickly your mind had little to no thoughts in it as Eva screamed in your ear as the chorus began, and similarly she did as the bridge started but this time with every beat she was stomping her feet causing you and Richie to both move to the girl so she didn’t fall off the seat but she had balanced herself with no help needed. 
It was a moment later that you felt Richie’s hand on yours, you realized he had gone to grab fingers and intertwine them in his own There was no purpose behind it, there was no guiding you through the crowd, he was just holding your hand as one of the most, well, most enchanting songs played in the background. 
You looked over at him, and his eyes on you felt hot in passion, the nerves were like static in your gut, similar to an anxiety but for the very opposite reason. It was crazy, you had spent nights unclothed, tangled in sheets with this man, he saw you break down and cry in some of your most vulnerable moments and yet this felt like the first time you were admitting feelings for eachother, because in some way it was. Till this moment everything was very unspoken, and with everything happening around you it felt like the spotlight was on the both you, like the crowd around you was there waiting for you two to announce your love. Obviously that was not the case, no one was looking at you, no one could have given two shits what you two were doing, including Eva. 
It was then that the song ended, her voice as she cheered and screamed snapped both you and Richie out of it and back to the stage, your hands unclasping like someone had come and ripped them apart. 
“I said remember this moment, in the back of my mind, the time we stood with our shaking hands, the crowds in stands went wild.” 
Your eyes couldn’t help but dart over at Richie as you took in the lyrics and while he didn’t look directly at you, he did look down, a little embarrassed and smiled with a chuckle. 
______________
You were stuck in standstill traffic just trying to get out of the stadium’s parking lot. Richie was visibly annoyed, Eva was in the back seat, knocked out, at one point her mile a minute breakdown of the concert just went silent. 
“I think her brain powered down.” You laughed as you peaked back at her sound asleep, purple dress still on but an oversized concert t-shirt was over it now. 
“She’s going to talk about this night for the next month, easily.” He laughed. 
“It was a good night.” You turned back around and settled in the seat, your eyes fell on Richie, “one to remember.” 
The car got silent, Richie was nodding, the snores from the backseat hummed lightly and the honks from the cars around you made you look around at the crowds of people and just utter chaos occurring around you. And yet, you felt none of it sitting in this car right now. 
“You know, I uh–do you remember when you brought those pictures to the restaurant?” The tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel were getting quicker. 
“Yea, when you guys had just started remodeling.” You nodded looking over at him. 
With a nod and a deep swallow he kept talking. “There was one, it was taken right before you left and it just reminded me how I feel like I’ve always been on the sidelines of it all, you know?”
You didn’t want to disappoint him or make him feel like what he was feeling wasn’t valid, but truthfully you were a little confused. “No, I don’t.” It was immediate that his face fell and you knew you only had seconds to recover. “But tell me.” 
“I don’t think I’ve ever belonged anywhere. Mikey brought me in as family but like I was never a Berzatto.” 
“Now that I get.” Your hands were fidgeting as you admitted to it, Carmy brought you in, but there was always that lingering feeling. 
He was searching in his pocket for his phone, and quickly brought the picture up to show you. 
“The picnic.” You nodded and remembered it so well.
 “Look where we are.” He pointed in the background. You were both off to the side, cup in hand, not in the craziness of it all but also not standing next to each other either. 
Suddenly you smiled. “Richie?” You asked him looking up as your nostrils flared and eyebrows raised. “Did Miss Taylor Swift’s Long Live make you reminisce a little bit?” 
He stuttered a little bit, laughed and then shook his head as he put his phone away. “No, alright, I just, the whole sidelines thing sparked the thought is all.” He was adjusting the gear shift like the massive line of traffic wasn’t still in front of you. 
“Taylor Swift, Richie Jerimovich’s muse.” The singsong voice you had was enough for him not to get annoyed with you and act more amused by it all. 
“Yea yea, laugh it up, I just, being on the sideline now isn’t all that bad.” 
That was when you stopped joking and looked at him, a soft smile on your face and you nodded and moved to squeeze his hand. 
“No, it’s not.” 
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afterdarkprincess · 6 months
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all's fair in love and war- part 1
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Relationship: Jey/Sami/Cody/Seth Rating: Mature (Part 2 will be Explicit) Summary: Aftermath of November 20th Monday Night Raw- Jey panics at hearing Randy Orton's name out of Cody's mouth. He's lost the advantage and feels less secure than ever in his position on their team, but Sami, Cody, and Seth are there to support and spoil him.
AO3 Link --- Later than I wanted to post this, but its here! 🌶️ spicy part 2 coming soon :)
tags for @feelschicken @elementaldoughnut12 @harmshake @jeysbvck @southerngirl41 @imabillyami (if anyone else would like to be tagged in my fics please let me know 🥰)
Cody’s voice rang through the arena, shouting about Legacies and Apex Predators. The crowd cheered, screaming the name that ran cold terror down Jey’s spine.
Randy Orton.
To some degree he should be pleased, right? They needed a fifth member for WarGames and Cody delivered. He lost the advantage match, and as much as he probably won’t be forgiving himself for that, having Randy on their side will even the odds considerably.
But…
The list of people Roman (and by extension Jey) has wronged over the years is long, and Randy might be at the top of it for how dangerous he is.
The sting of his defeat against Drew tonight is already proof of his past catching up to him, not to mention that he’s done the same or worse to everyone on his WarGames team.
In this loud booming ring, surrounded by lights and the crowd and the people he should be able to trust to have his back, Jey is afraid.
He stares down at the mat, trying to compose himself, trying to keep his breathing under control as beads of sweat roll down his face. He can’t do this right now, not out here where everyone can see, but he feels out of control even in his own body and it just makes him panic more.
Suddenly he feels a hand in his, grounding him, and he’s pulled into a tight hug with his face buried in warm flannel. The scent of Sami is all around him and it pulls him back to earth.
The embrace is brief, gotta keep up appearances for the crowd, but it helps considerably and Jey feels steadier on his feet now.
“You good, uce?” Sami asks, eyes full of worry and concern.
He nods, putting on a grin that he’s sure doesn’t quite meet his eyes.
They make it through the end of the show, Cody taking the lead for the most part in hyping the crowd up for the show this weekend. Despite the decision he made in bringing Orton back, he is grateful for Cody’s showmanship in that he doesn’t have to talk much before they finally head backstage.
As soon as they pass through the curtain, Sami’s hand is warm and steady in his own again. Their shoulders knock together as they navigate the dark hallways to their designated locker room for the evening.
People come up to them, producers with questions, compliments from some of the other members of the Raw roster, but Cody and Seth field them all, brushing everyone off with ease until they reach the locker room. Cody shuts the door behind them all and Sami immediately wraps Jey into his arms.
Safe again in the arms of his beloved, Jey’s hard mask breaks down. Tears leak from his eyes, falling and wetting the soft fabric of Sami’s shirt. Sami’s hands rub soothing circles into his back, but it only does so much as Jey’s mind continues to race.
Jus’ like las’ year, lost the advantage so they gon’ send me out first, just like Roman did. Everybody knows ‘m the weak link in this group. Main Event my ass, don’ mean shit when I can’t deliver when it matters. Don’ know how they all trust me after what I done. Jus’ a matter a time ‘fore they turn on me or I turn on them- and Orton? No way I ain’t gonna take an RKO in the near future.
His inner monologue races, drowning out the voices around him.
There’s additional pressure around him, either Seth or Cody hugging him from behind. And he knows it should make him feel better, that his friends are willing to comfort him when he’s upset, but it makes the guilt inside of him for his past mistakes even worse.
Jey’s breathing quickens and he can feel panic creeping in. He tries to open his mouth to tell them he needs air, but his tongue feels glued to his mouth.
Suddenly the pressure eases, the contact reduced to just Sami’s hand on his cheek, and his voice cuts through the noise in his head.
“Jey, sweetheart, talk to me?” The look of worry is evident on Sami’s face, but his tone is calm and soothing. “How about some slow breaths? Breathe with me, baby.”
Sami takes some slow exaggerated breaths and Jey puts all his focus on Sami’s lips, copying him and taking in slow drags of air until he doesn’t feel like he’s falling apart anymore.
Cody and Seth are hovering behind Sami, concern on their features.
“Better, Uce?” Cody asks.
Jey nods. “Sorry-“
Sami cuts him off, “You don’t have a single thing to apologize for, Jey.”
Jey sighs and gives him a small smile. “Yeah alright, boo.”
“Wanna tell us what happened out there, pal?” Seth asks, his brow furrowed.
Jey shrugs, “Don’ know, man. Just- I let y’all down tonight. An’ knowin’ that Randy comin’ back, like I appreciate it Cody, I do, but-“
“You’re worried he’ll turn on us.” Cody finishes.
He nods, “An’ that’s gon’ be on me too. Me n’ Jim, we put the hurt on ‘im back then, he ain’t jus’ gon’ forget that.”
Cody hums thoughtfully. “If that happens, we’ll deal with it.” He takes a few slow steps closer to where Jey sits and puts a cautious hand on Jey’s shoulder.
Jey winces, but allows the touch. Cody’s other hands joins it, rubbing into his shoulders and giving him a massage. “And what we gon’ do for the match, you gon’ have me go first?”
Sami’s face turns sour and he frowns, knowing where his train of thought is going, but Seth interrupts before he can speak.
“If you want to to prove a point, sure, but we’re not gonna make you go first.” Seth kneels beside Jey, hands resting lightly on his thigh, inches away from the exposed skin of his belly.
“We’re not Roman, uce.” Cody says, bending down to press a brief kiss to the top of Jey’s head. “We’re not gonna punish you for losing tonight, you know that right?”
Jey feels relief wash over him, the tension that he’s been holding melts away under their touches. He goes to speak but his eyes are brimming again with tears and he closes his mouth and just nods.
Sami brushes a few tears away with his thumbs. “Let us take care of you tonight, mon chou"
He takes a deep breath in, fighting against the urges inside of him that tell him to flee, that showing emotion like this will make them think he’s weak, that everyone in this room will turn on him and leave him in the end and what good is it to pretend anything different. But Sami has never led him astray, and he’s been happier these last few months than he has been in a long time, and Jey is so tired of being afraid.
“Please?” Jey looks at each of them in turn; Sami who’s eyes hold so much love, Seth who looks at him with hunger, and Cody with his hands still firmly holding him. He can’t believe how lucky he really is.
With his permission now, there are hands all over Jey’s skin. Cody resumes giving him a deep shoulder massage, bending down to press soft kisses to his skin as he goes. Seth’s fingers dance up his thigh and roam along his stomach with light and teasing pressure, getting close to his nipples but not quite.
Sami stands, running his hands up to move through Jey’s hair, gently scritching at his scalp.
It’s overwhelming for Jey, but in a good way. He feels safe and comfortable enough to give up the reigns and let them do as they wish.
Jey dips his head back, exposing his neck to Sami and hoping that his lover understands what he wants.
As usual, Sami reads his mind, bringing his lips to the delicate skin of Jey’s neck, peppering it with soft kisses before he bites down gently on his pulse point.
Seth deliberately makes a pass over both of Jey’s nipples with his thumbs, and the sensation causes him to let out a low moan, sinking his head back even further as his mouth goes slack and he feels his dick stirring in his still on ring gear.
Cody laughs behind him, “Maybe we oughta take this back to the hotel, eh boys?”
Jey looks back at him, eyes pleading. “Yea, Uce. Sounds good.”
“I bet it does, we’re gonna treat you right, baby doll.” Seth lets out his signature cackle.
Jey can feel the heat of the blush in his cheeks as Sami’s hand finds his again and helps him to his feet. Sami presses a kiss to his cheek and murmurs, “You deserve it, Jey.” ----- Thank you for reading!
Next time: Sami, Seth & Cody take Jey back to their fancy huge hotel room and spoil him absolutely rotten 💖
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Glimmer 28/? Billy Butcher fic
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Tag List: @2dead2function @secretdreamlandmentality
Chapter 1
Previous Chapter (27)
_____
Chapter 28
Addison’s question echoed throughout the cold, dark warehouse, but MM was only focused on her. 
He was holding Addi’s arms so tight she might’ve cried out if she wasn’t still halfway drugged with the knockout gas. He held her still as his gaze raked over her, assessing for damage like the medic he was. “Addison, you ok? Addison!” he shouted trying to get her to concentrate on him.
All she could do was shake her head frantically as she reached for him and gripped his shirt in her fists. “Billy,” she repeated. “Where’s Billy? Where is Billy?” All she could think about was that he wasn’t here and it was the first thing to truly make her panic so far. 
“Butcher went to the other address…Addison, focus. Are you hurt? Do you remember any of what happened? Do you know who took you? Did you see anything?”
Addison forced herself to take a breath as she shook her head again, still holding on to him. “No…I don’t… I was fucking high as a kite. I don’t remember anything. We have to get to Billy. We have to get out of here, he said…that guy…”
MM finally gave in, and nodded his head, sliding his arm around her back. “You’re right, this place could blow any second, let’s go.” 
Addison could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to just swing her over his shoulder and carry her out of there but he knew well enough not to. Addison was determined to make it out on her own now that she knew she was okay. Good enough, anyway. 
Still, MM kept one arm around her. It wasn’t until she was able to trot outside with them that he visibly relaxed. 
As soon as they were out of the building, MM made sure Frenchie had a hold of Addison before he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He started dialing as they ran to the car, Frenchie making sure Addison could make it on her own. 
“Fuck,” MM growled, thumbing the screen and dialing again. “I can’t get any service. That motherfucker must’ve had some kind of access point set up for his own WiFi.”
He tossed his phone to Addison as he climbed into the car and started the engine in one motion. “Keep trying, I know a shortcut,” he growled. As he peeled down the road Addison swore she heard the building they just left explode behind them and she felt her blood run cold as she tried to dial Billy again. 
*.*.*
The old tires on Billy’s Cadillac skidded, gravel flying as Billy slammed on the breaks in front of the second location, jumping out of the car barely before it came to a complete stop. 
Kimiko was hot on his heels. He burst through the entryway of the abandoned building, knocking the old door right off its hinges to crash to the floor. It looked like an old restaurant and they dashed through the lobby, around the corner into a large room with a few dusty tables and overturned chairs. 
“Addi?!” Billy shouted. “Addi, where are you?!” 
A quiet noise came from the next room over and together they raced in that direction. The sight that met them made Billy roar in defeat. It wasn’t her. It wasn’t fucking her. He felt like he was going to be sick and he almost threw a table into the wall but the sound of the young woman whimpering desperately snapped him out of it. 
“Fucking hell,” he growled. Kimiko was already with her, pulling the gag from her mouth and trying in her way to reassure her silently. 
“We’re gonna get you out of here,” Billy rumbled as he crossed around behind her, flipping his knife open to cut through the zip ties binding her wrists. 
“He - he said there’s a bomb,” the young woman whimpered, her whole body trembling as Kimiko helped her to stand. 
“Get her out of here,” Butcher said to Kimiko, turning to meet her stare. 
She shook her head frantically, using her free hand to sign wildly at him. 
Butcher shook his head. “I have to check. I have to make sure she ain’t…” He swallowed. “Get her out. Now.”
The sky was just beginning to lighten on the horizon as sunrise drew nearer. Addison, MM and Frenchie pulled up to the abandoned lot to find Kimiko jogging through the parking lot, or trying, with her arm around another woman who looked like she could barely stand upright. 
As soon as they parked, Frenchie called out for Kimiko and ran to help her but all Addison could see was who wasn’t there. 
She scrambled out of the car in a daze, still partly in shock, half drugged, exhausted and buzzed out of her mind on adrenaline all at the same time. “Billy…” she choked out, looking from Kimiko toward the building and to Kimiko again. “Billy, where’s Billy?!” Addison stumbled forward, looking desperately at Kimiko, who shook her head, as she helped the woman lean against the hood of the car. As soon as both her hands were free she started signing frantically. 
“He’s in there,” Frenchie translated. “He’s looking for you.”
Addison whirled around, pushing off hard and ready to race in to find him but MM moved like lightning and snagged her around the waist with his arm, pulling her back against him. A frustrated cry left her as he held onto her easily. She was too weak to do anything but push futilely at his muscled arm. 
“I have to…please!” she cried out. She couldn’t focus enough to listen but she just knew the place was going to -
A fiery explosion tore through the atmosphere in front them and they all ducked on instinct. Addison heard a horrible scream then realized it came from herself. “No!” She cried out, finally lurching away from MM. “No…” She took two steps forward but there was no use going any further. She fisted her fingers in her own shirt, her hands shaking as panic and despair bubbled up inside of her. The building was in flames now. Heat wove through the air, warming her skin while debris and ashes floated down from the sky. It was smoky and hazy and she couldn’t see much of anything but she couldn’t tear her gaze away either. 
He was gone. This was it. She’d gotten him killed, blown to pieces. After everything he’d been through, it was her that killed him. A desperate sob escaped from her throat and she had to gasp for air as her lungs began to seize up. Her chest was filling with smoke but it felt like lead, heavy and dark and horrible. The image of his dead body, in there now, blackened, burning, wouldn’t leave her head. She’d done this to him. She caused this. “Noo…” she heaved, clutching her middle. She was frozen where she stood, unable to move, not even able to collapse. 
The grey smoke swirled and changed in front of her, shadows shifting and wavering until she couldn’t tell if what she was seeing was real or she was hallucinating. It felt like she’d been suspended there for hours but it had only been a few seconds. And now the smoke was coming toward her, maybe coming to take her too...shifting into a dark figure of death. Oh please, please take me too, she thought. Let me go with him…Billy…
The hazy smoke figure whirled and evolved as she watched through her blurry vision until she could almost imagine she really was looking at Billy, hunched over, stalking and stumbling toward her. What a cruel trick for her mind to play on her, she thought, the tears coming harder now. 
But then MM called out from behind her, and the figure came closer and looked up at her. Billy. It was him. He was alive. Somehow, he was alive. 
When their eyes met suddenly they were both running toward each other, like magnets unable to control the pull they felt to be melded together. Addison was crying desperately now, her face wet with tears. She couldn’t get to him fast enough.
As soon as she was close enough, she leapt into his arms, and they crashed into each other with so much force all of the wind was knocked out of her. Billy dropped to his knees as he held her against his chest with an iron embrace. He was covered in soot and smoke and dirt. His shirt was torn and her clothes were still wet with her blood but she couldn’t care. Her bare knees scraped against the pavement as he dragged her closer and she held on to him desperately, straddling his lap on the ground. 
“Addison,” he gasped roughly, and she sobbed again at the sound of his rough voice. “Addison. You’re okay. Holy fuck, ya scared me,” he slid his hand into her hair, pulling her to him and kissing her forehead. “You’re my girl, ya hear me?” he was crying with her now, his heavy brow furrowed and his eyes glistening. His strong fingers were tangled so deep in her hair she was sure he’d never be able to get them out again and he was holding her so tight she could hardly breathe. “My girl…”
“Billy,” she said his name, in gasps and soft shudders, over and over. 
He tugged on her hair so he could look at her, look in her eyes, maybe to try and convince himself she was real because that’s how she felt too and she could only cry harder when she met his dark hazel eyes, brimming with tears and fire and affection and need and everything else ever. 
“I love you,” she sobbed out, still struggling for breath, her heart racing wildly in her chest. “I’m so sorry, Billy. I love you. I love you.”
Somehow the emotion in his eyes grew even deeper. “I love you, too, sunshine,” he husked, his voice low and thick and gruff and perfect. “I love you too.”
Sirens sounded in the distance and Addi realized everyone was probably staring at them but she couldn’t care less. Billy shifted and gathered Addison even closer, pressing her face back into the crook of his neck.
She closed her eyes and stayed still until she could hear the beating of his heart, over and over and over. Her Billy. He was alive. He was okay. 
“I love you,” she said again, sighing against his pulse, “I love you, I love you,” and she felt him repeat it with her. 
Listening to his heart, in his arms like this, after what they’d made it through, Addison knew with an absoluteness she had never experienced ever before in her life that she would never willingly leave his side again. 
_____
Chapter 29
Please leave a comment, a suggestion, a word, anything! Thank you!
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rui-drawsbox · 1 year
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I’ve got so much work recently that the brain ain’t filled up yet but I have a couple ideas for the magical girl au :):):):) back on my usual bullshit lmao ✨✨✨
K so these mfers (Knights + Mika + Shu(eventually, give him time, a season two breakdown and a redemption arc) ) should go song karaoke together. They deserve it after all the horrors tbh. The little doll man should get to experience the epic highs and lows of awful greasy pizza at an establishment that isn’t a restaurant. Tsukasa, Izumi, and Shu should also be subjected to it tbh. Tsukasa might like it <3 Izumi and Shu however… malding, screaming and dying even.
Anyways it would be funny as hell if Shu also went to school with the knights. Cuz he’s the same age as Izumi and Leo anyways. Bruh, Arashi could just think that Shu is Mika’s crush 💀💀💀. On god that could make for some top tier comedic interactions. Mostly Arashi teasing Mika about his crush, and Mika frantically trying to assure her that it isn’t a crush cuz he wouldn’t be caught dead catching feelings for his boss. Meanwhile the idea that he could have a crush on his boss has been planted in the back of his mind and it’s only gonna keep growing. I feel like this would be funny for two reasons, one: hijinks, two: bigger emotional payoff when Mika does decide to leave him <<<333 break both of their hearts in one foul swoop.
also Leo being a menace to Shu. They should be in the same class. It would be funny.
Back on my fighting bullshit. I feel like Shu would never fight with his hands or with blades tbh. I feel like he would use a bunch of smaller dolls after losing Mika. Ones that he considers imperfect or something, idk man, something symbolic. + the dolls could almost look like they’re already falling apart and they deteriorate more and more as his mental state deteriorates (not as an in universe thing, just as a visual symbol for the audience to emphasize that Shu is breaking down lmao)
Also Shu and Mika should kiss. Arashi is the #1 wing woman tbh. I love her so much. She deserves to wear a pretty dress like in those super magical girl forms. Like madoka’s at the end of madoka magica when she does the thing, or any of the really powerful forms in precure.
also arashi should punch Shu in the face at one point. I’m thinking about him getting her sword away from her with dolls and being like “Hah! It seems as if you weren’t prepared for this eventuality girl! Kakakakaka! Now that I’ve disarmed you it’s impossible for you to defeat me! Now then, if you’ll excuse me I have more important matters to-” “AGHH!? You, you ignorant girl! You, you imbecile! Why I can’t believe you would-“ she raised her fist again so he finally shut the fuck up. He’s learning 🥰🥰🥰. Mika is probably upset about Shu getting punch tbh. Like he knows why Shu deserved it but he’s still a bit upset. He ain’t mad tho. Shu needed to have some sense beaten into him for once ✨✨✨.
I’m done for now ✨🥰✨🥰✨😎😎😎😎
I kind of want to write out a whole anime plot tbh. If I actually get around to finishing my current fic I might write an outline for this sometime tbh. If I get it done I’ll probably come drop it in your ask box unannounced. Or I’ll make a post and @you in it cuz that might be easier if it’s a whole ass outline.
I love ur ideas even though i forgot answer this ngl JSBDKS Drawings to compensate! It's the only i can do haha!
Anyways, this scene is definitely in the ending of the second season or an OVA about the 7 having daily adolescence adventures like they should had since the start lol
I feel like Leo would be an usual costumer in the karaoke, actually, this would be the group's hideout jsbfjs
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Now, I love the idea of Mika staring too long to Shu in the corridors of the school and then Arashi notices and starts teasing him
Mika: no way i could possibly like my boss! He's just so cool and composed and smart and-
Shu, in his classroom:
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And yes i think Shu and Mika should kiss, but i also think that Arashi and Mika should kiss, so my offer is:
Arashi: this is my boyfriend, Mika. And this Mika's boyfriend, Shu.
Basically, shumika=second chance trope, aramika=friends to lovers trope. And i love it
You know that i was thinking exactly the same about Shu's powers? He could never fight someone by himself, he would break before a finger lands on him jabfjsj
So yeah, i belive that he would have a dolls/mannequin army. In the first episodes he only uses Mika because he's the strongest, but when he loses him he would starts using unfinished dolls to fight, and with the pasta of episodes there would be more and more dolls but with a worse quality! Like Mika>Metal dolls>Wood dolls>Ceramic/industrial mannequins?. They would start being extremely fragile, like his mental stability😊!
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You know Santa Clous from Chainsaw Man? Yeah i see Shu with a similar power but less OP ofc. Like he can control the movements/minds(?) of his artificial dolls but not people, Mika is the exception! Because Mika considered himself like Shu's doll! Once he starts making choices by himself he couldnt be controlled anymore!
Back to Arashi, im 100% sure that her powerup/god form has longer hair, following the more hair=more power formula. I also want to give the nerf or smth that have so much power she has to lose a lot of her humanity sense! She would become this "Justice God" or smth without emotions and the rest of her friends would have to fight/convince her back into normal!
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Now. Yes. Arashi should punch people. Arashi should beat the shit out of people. Arashi should beat the shit out of Shu. I didn't gave her armor gloves for nothing.
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Yes. Queen. Be scary. Be intimidating. Be your enemy's worst nightmare.
And you want to write the plot while i want to anímate the fucking fight scenes oUT OF MY HEAD I SWEAR IT WOULD LOOK SO COOL IF I KNEW HOW TO ANIMATE UGHH
I would love to read whatever you write about this au too! I'll read every ask you drop here even if i take forever to answer haha;;
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alex-guerin · 1 year
Text
I HAVE FINALLY BEGUN WRITING THE MALEX WWII PILOTS FIC!!!
“Face it, boy! You ain’t never been nothin’ but trouble, an’ you ain’t never gonna be nothin’ but trouble! So just you hightail it on out of here an’ save the rest of us the misfortune of havin’ to deal with you, anymore!”
Maybe Old Man Wilson had been right after all, Michael thought to himself as he watched the last American flag get lowered from the flagpole and carefully folded. Maybe Michael was trouble. It certainly seemed to follow him around enough; one look around the former United States Army Air Force base was plenty proof of that. The bad penny that kept turning up in the wrong place at the wrong time.
With a frown, Michael stepped up into the transport plane and settled into the first empty seat he could find. No one spoke to him, and that was fine. He hadn’t been part of the 187th long enough to have made any real friends. His duffel bag tucked under his seat, he leaned his head back against the cool metal of the plane and let his shoulders fall in defeat just before the squadron mascot Lucky – a mutt of a dog with only one eye – bounded up the steps and made the rounds for pets and ear scratches. A moment later two other men climbed the steps, the dark haired one pausing just long enough to pull the steps up and close the door, while the blond dropped into a seat like a puppet with its strings cut. Lucky hurried to his side and curled up at his feet, whining softly.
The brunette, Lieutenant Tony Carbonell – one of the mechanics Michael had worked alongside for a short period of time, leaned into his friend’s side – a pilot that Michael was only vaguely familiar with, Lieutenant Barton, he thought his name was – to murmur something in his ear before giving his shoulder a gentle pat. Lieutenant Barton shook his head and simply slumped lower in his seat as the plane took to the sky.
Michael felt like doing the same.
Two months with the 187th Airborne Defense Squadron and Private Michael Guerin was already getting sent off to another base. The Army Air Force base in Kings Cliffe lay in shambles, their commanding officer killed in action, and the rag-tag group of pilots all being reassigned after the big brass determined they were no longer required that far west of the front lines.
Yeah. Maybe everyone was right about him. Bad luck and trouble just seemed to follow him no matter where he went. His only hope was that wherever he got assigned next, he’d find some way to break his bad luck streak. Or maybe, if he were really lucky, put an end to everyone’s problems and be killed in a fire fight.
But then, he definitely wasn’t that lucky.
~~~~~~~~~~
Some of you might recognize a couple characters. Yes, it’s a direct nod back to On a Wing and a Prayer. This will take place in that universe...kinda. I figure Michael would have had a good chance of getting shipped off to the 187th and he would have fit in wonderfully with them. So, I’m nodding back to my beloved WWII fighter pilots fic with this fic picking up directly after Tony and Clint board the plane after their squadron got disbanded.
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reizeken · 1 year
Text
Everlasting
short excerpt from the end of a lebron/steph fic I'll write ig. Despite the hopeful tone they ARE NOT TOGETHER IN THE CURRENT DAY, BRON WAS LYING TO HIMSELF
"Hey, bron?"
Lebron paused his dribbling workouts and looked across the outdoor court, admiring how the oversized warriors' jersey hung over Steph's tiny body. 
"What's up?"
Steph paused, the familiar pout fixing itself on his face before he gathered a deep breath and continued.
"If we become direct competitors would you… yannow, leave me?"
Lebron sucked in a harsh breath, his entire body feeling like he ran into one of Shaq's screens, wholly unprepared for such a serious question being flung at him. It's not like LeBron didn’t think about a situation where Steph and he are rivals, where Steph is the primary obstacle to his success. Before Steph got drafted, when Steph was a sweet college kid and bron was his cool NBA boyfriend. And he knew that Steph was the same, a front-seat audience to all of Bron’s temper tantrums when he lost in a particularly heated game. But Lebron’s momma had raised him better than that, his momma told him to take good care of Steph, and he would never let down his momma. 
“I would be lying if I said I know for sure,” Lebron replied, voice breaking off minutely in odd intervals. Steph sucked in a breath at that, sharp but understanding. Lebron has thought about it, getting beaten by Steph in the finals, watching his glory, his fame getting lessened by the beautiful man who was as ruthless and competitive as the self-proclaimed king of Akron himself. But he never dwelled too long on it. As much as he wanted Steph to succeed, he wanted to be the best himself, and he was sure that Steph wouldn’t, couldn’t intervene in that way. But if he did… He would not blow up on Steph the way he did against the Mavs and the Celtics, that much he was sure of. 
“However, even if you somehow managed to beat me…” Lebron muttered, glancing at the way Steph scoffed playfully at the stressed tone Bron’s voice took at the mere thought of defeat, “I can say for sure that my feelings for you ain’t gonna change. I’mma still love you no matter what.”
Steph’s eyes went impossibly wide at that, green eyes reflecting thousands of emotions, glassy like the san Francisco bay, and bron felt his breath be taken away all over again. “How are you so sure of that Bron, how can you say that with certainty when you know what you did last time you lost?” Steph pressed again, voice growing airy with emotions, both positive and negative. Lebron grabbed Steph's forearms, not being able to remember when they moved this close to each other, all he wanted to do was press kisses into Steph's forehead and reassure him. 
“I’ll admit that, well, I don’t take kindly to losing.” Lebron replied, lips brushing against Steph who was now wrapped in his arms, “But if I lose you, I’ll lose the part of myself that acted less like a douche,” Steph let out a breathy giggle at that statement, which made Bron smile slightly as well. 
“You’re like basketball to me Steph, I can’t lose you.”
Steph’s breath hitched with disbelief, but no one could deny that he was unequivocally happy at this very moment.  It was more surprising than anything, that Lebron, you know the sore loser Lebron James himself, the competitive, hard-headed, dumbass that he loved despite all his flaws would admit his feelings out loud instead of suppressing them. The rare display of Lebron being soft in public made Steph’s heart fill up ten-fold.
“H-hey Steph, you there?” Lebron asked eyebrows raised in concern at the fact that Steph suddenly stopped moving, half-concerned at the redness of Steph’s face and that he might’ve died of asphyxiation.
“Y-you can’t just say stuff like that Bron…” Steph pouted, cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk that made Lebron stifle a laugh that threatened to escape. “How am I supposed to beat that statement…”
“You ain’t beating shit.” Lebron retorted, which earned him a playful shove. “But I mean it, I won’t let you go.”
“Wow, that’s a villain-Esque dialogue, are you trying to catch a case?”
“I meant every word, why you gotta be a bitch…” Lebron teased, grabbing Steph’s gloved hand and dragging him towards the house, smiling softly at the cute complaints that the smaller man let out at the rough treatment.
He didn’t know how successful he was in convincing Steph but he hadn’t lied at all. He was extremely sure that he would never, ever let go of Steph, no matter what. He loved Steph with everything in his heart, and he knew that would not change.
After all, his love for Steph helped him conquer everything in his path, the natural way of a conqueror, 
His love for Steph was everlasting.
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Text
i ain’t gonna face no defeat
in which alex was a figure skater.
word count: 2,916
some willex, juke if you squint
tw: occasional swearing, period-typical homophobic parents (q word is used as a slur exactly once)
———
“Cut off my circulation even more, why don’t you?” Alex grumbles, grabbing his arm away from his sister.
She rolls her eyes and nudges him as he adjusts the arm band. “Hey, feel lucky you’re even doing this. I don’t think Mom and Dad actually realize what you’re skating to.”
Alex hesitates and sucks on his teeth. “You think they’ll be mad?”
“Oh, they’ll be livid,” she deadpans, then smiles softly. “But they can’t stop you.” She gives him a pat on the shoulder as he leans over to pull on his boot covers. “I’m gonna head to the bleachers. Break a leg!”
Alex calls after her, not looking up, “That’s only for theater and you know it, Mel!”
A few minutes later, he’s called to the boards, and he can’t shake off his damn jitters. He knows he’ll be fine once the music starts, but right now his skate guard won’t come off and he really has to pee all of a sudden and oh my god why is he wearing a tank top when it’s so fucking cold—
Alex steps onto the ice, and the announcer calls his name while he glides into a stretch before taking his beginning pose. He ignores the way his arm, raised in a fist, is shaking while the beginning harmonies start to play, and he skates.
•••
Alex began figure skating when he was six. It was an odd situation, really; he didn’t care about doing it one way or another, and he would’ve been fine with not doing it since his parents would always say it was a girl’s sport. His little sister, Melanie, however, wanted to skate so badly, but with her being the four-year-old she was, she was terrified of doing it alone. Begrudgingly, his parents signed him up for lessons alongside her.
Much to their dismay, he was good. Like, really fucking good. He landed his first single jump after only two years, and his first axel after six. He managed to get height in a way that his coach’s other skaters didn’t; maybe it was the inner pent up anxiety making him bounce like a jumping bean, who knows.
Alex wasn’t just good at jumps, either; he got his Y-spin after four years. He was that kid on the ice who accidentally cut people off with an impeccable spiral. When he practiced his programs, the other kids would move towards the boards to give him room and sneak a glance.
As much as Alex liked the attention from his peers (god, that support system was something else), he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that his parents never sat in on his sessions. They would only ever come to the shows and competitions his sister was a part of; he had to find his own ride to the others (thank god for Bobby's parents, honestly). It had made him angry at first that they didn’t want to be involved, but as he grew older, and learned more about himself, he realized he could use it to his advantage. He could skate to anything he wanted.
Alex was 13 when he chose to skate to Somebody to Love. To anyone else, it was very unassuming, just another kid skating to a popular song at the time, maybe even a tribute, since Freddie himself had passed two months before. It was everything to Alex, though. He pulled out all of the stops; his costume was the whole armband and wifebeater getup, and his coach let him assist in choreographing it.
He didn't know it was his last program.
•••
"Hey, Alex?"
He looks up from his math homework and hums in recognition.
Mel bites her lip and leans against the doorframe before mumbling, "I wanna quit."
Quit? Shit, nonononono— "—nonononono, Mel, you can't quit! If you quit, they're gonna make me quit!"
She closes the door softly behind her and walks slowly up to him. "Alex, the only reason I've been skating for the past year was so you could keep doing it. I'm really sick of skating at this point, and I wanna switch to something else. I'll keep going if you really, really want me to, but—" She sits next to him on his bed, lowering her voice to a whisper, "You saw how they reacted to the recital, 'Lex. You think they might make you quit anyway?"
Alex sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. She's right, he knows she's right. It just fucking sucks.
He tilts his head back. "You can quit," he whispers.
Mel places her hand on his and squeezes, whispering back, "I'm sorry." Alex looks back down at her. "I really with there was something we could do, but there isn't," she continues, recollecting her hand. "At least your last program was a good one."
He gives her a sad chuckle. "Yeah, I guess so. And, I'll have more time to focus on the band. Luke'll be happy about that."
Mel rolls her eyes, takes a breath, and leaves Alex to his own devices with a pitying look.
If she hears him practicing the beat to Somebody to Love in the basement the night she officially quits, she doesn't say anything.
•••
"Julie, what are you doing up there?"
Julie throws a shoe over the wall of the loft and into the evergrowing pile on the floor. "Cleaning out all of your old junk. Which one of you had a magician phase?" she asks, holding up a cheap, ratty top hat and matching plastic wand. "It was Reggie, wasn't it?"
Alex chuckles to himself, poofing up next to Julie. "Why do you think he knew who Caleb was when we met him?"
Julie lets out a loud laugh, continuing her digging. "Are the other guys here?"
"Nah, they're looking for a gig. I just got back from the park," Alex answers.
“Just the park?” Julie asks sarcastically, and before Alex can retort, she adds on, standing up straight, “Hey, whose skates are these?”
She’s holding his old figure skates in her right hand.
The black fabric is a little faded, with the familiar scuffs still on the toe. His dark blue skate guards are all dusty, but the blades still somehow look intact, given there wasn’t much opportunity for water damage in a loft.
Alex scratches the back of his neck, ignoring the rising blush in his cheeks and bracing himself for the inevitable teasing. “Those, uh, those are mine, actually.”
Julie looks up from the boots at him in awe. “Whoa, you skated? That’s so cool!”
Alex drops his hand, mouth open in hesitation. “Really? It’s not... weird to you?”
He can recall a tight grip on his arm, firmer than the band that had been ripped off. "Alex, what made you think it was okay to pull off this kind of stunt? You don't want people thinking you're some kind of queer, do you? Why we've let you continue this is beyond me, it isn’t any good for you.”
“Why would it be weird?” Julie asks, quirking her head to the side in such a Julie way that Alex would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so worried.
He shrugs, shuffling his feet from side to side, and mumbles with a wince, “I don’t know, because I’m a guy and figure skating is like, a girly sport, I guess?”
Julie shakes her head, eyebrows furrowed with a soft smile on her face. “First off, it’s not inherently girly, and second, if it’s something that you enjoyed, then that’s what matters, right?”
“I guess so,” Alex replies, looking down at his sneakers. Is that all that matters, though? He pauses for a moment in debate, then adds on at Julie’s encouraging expression, “My parents made me quit when I was fourteen.” He takes a breath. “They were never that involved in it, though, they actually only let me because my sister did it. I, uh, after I skated to a Queen song in a full Freddie Mercury getup, they weren’t too happy, and made me quit.”
At some point in his spiel, Julie had put her hand on his shoulder, and now she was squeezing it before pulling him into a hug. “Your parents are stupid,” she mumbled into his chest.
Alex chuckles, something emotionless, a bitter taste on the tip of his tongue. “Yeah. They were.”
Julie pulls away with a gasp, a bright smile on her face. “We should all go skating this weekend! The public rink just opened up a couple weeks ago, and I can bring Flynn so it doesn’t look like I’m talking to myself—” she falters, cutting herself off, “I mean, if you’re cool with it. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
Alex thinks back to his many (many) practice sessions, and remembers the feeling of finally getting that move right, of flying in the air for that one glorious millisecond, of seeing some of his closest friends every other day. He misses it, of course he misses it. It was his biggest outlet before he focused all of his attention on drumming. But, he can’t help but feel that stupid fucking guilt clawing at his throat, can’t help but imagine oh, so clearly the look of betrayal on his mother’s face the night he came out.
Then again, he had lived the rest of his life out of spite of his parents. Why not keep it going?
“That sounds really fun,” he replies, pulling her back in. “Thank you.”
•••
A world sans Caleb was a new one to Willie. However, it was also a very welcome one, because it was in this world that he was able to just relax with Alex in the studio, enjoying every second they spend together without worrying about the time running out.
Which is why he was (reasonably) surprised when the time ran out.
They throw Alex an impressively offended look as he removed his arm from behind their shoulder. “What?”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Willie scoffed.
Alex chuckles to himself, pressing his lips into a line. "As much as I would love to stay here and cuddle with you—" At that, Willie's face goes bright red, and Alex counts it as a win in his head, "—the band and I are going ice skating when Flynn gets here, which should be in about five minutes."
"Oh," Willie's face brightens as they reply, "sounds fun!"
Alex winces. "Yeah, making sure Luke doesn't accidentally become tangible and run over a seven-year-old while playing human bowling on the ice with Reggie is super fun." Willie laughs something golden in response, and Alex only hesitates for a moment before adding on, "Uh- actually, would you want to come with us?"
Willie grows soft, still getting used to finally being included, but quickly schools his expression before replying, "Yeah, I'd love to! Though, fair warning, I'm kind of only good at the one kind of skating?"
Alex quickly scrunches his nose. "That's fine, I'll help you," he offers, slowly untangling himself from Willie.
Willie isn't sure how much help he's really gonna be, but they figure even an amateur would be better than whatever the fuck kind of Bambi creature he is on the ice, so they nod and pull Alex up by his hand off the couch.
•••
They arrived to the rink a few minutes ago, and while Julie and Flynn are buying their rental skates and Luke, Reggie, and Willie attempt to steal some without being noticed, Alex laces up his own skates by himself on an open bench.
It isn't until after he yanks the last bow that he realizes— putting on those skates should not have been that easy.
Yeah, their clothes are usually easy to put on, and they can summon their instruments any time they want, but touching anything else usually takes an immense amount of focus. Hell, the dahlia pin Julie had bought Luke for his guitar strap took five tries to actually hook on rather than just drop to the ground.
And yet, his skates just— went on? Laced up with no problem? His foot didn't go through the sole even once? He wiggles his toes around inside the boot, and only feels the familiar push of fabric against them.
He decides not to question it, to not think about the implications of his skates possibly being attached to his soul, and tries to avoid yet another afterlife crisis as they walk toward the boards. Or, at least, he walks, while Luke just bolts onto the ice with no hesitation, and Reggie quickly follows. Alex falls back behind Julie and Flynn, who step onto the ice and begin gliding around, and Willie somehow finds their way next to him, grabbing onto his hand. They make it to the door, and Willie lets go with a small nudge to the shoulder. "Alright, hotdog, show me what you've got," he jokes.
Alex lets out a small laugh and steps out onto the ice, a weird feeling of deja-vu settling into his nonexistent bones. Once he gathers his bearings, he glides along before maneuvering closer to the middle of the ice and pulling himself into a scratch spin. It takes him a minute to really center the spin, but with the phantom tingling of blood rushing to the tips of his fingers before he pulls in completely, suddenly it's 1990 and he's doing his Lacrimosa program and he wants to try to land every jump he's ever learned, even though he knows that trying his axel right now is a horrible idea, and—
He's exited the spin now, looking back at the door to see Willie about a foot away from it, gripping the wall with a concerning amount of intensity, an odd combination of fear, shock, and something else (awe, maybe?) coming to rest on their face. He skates back over, and Willie's expression doesn't seem to change. "You—" they swallow, "—you can skate."
Alex slides his feet back and forth, his arms behind his back. "Yeah, I figure skated for eight years, actually. Did, did I not mention that?" he asks, smirking a little, knowing damn well he very much never mentioned that.
Willie closes his eyes, sucks on his teeth, and takes a breath, getting over their minor bluescreen moment. "Help me?"
"In order for me to help you, you need to let go of the boards," Alex responds. Willie looks at the boards, then back at him, eyebrows furrowed. "It'll hurt a lot more falling into two flat surfaces rather than one," Alex reasons, and Willie hesitates before finally letting go.
"There we go," Alex says softly, taking both of Willie's hands in his. He begins to slowly pull them along, not caring about passing through lifers, while Willie's feet slip and slide beneath him. Alex tries his hardest not to laugh, and Willie quips, "I thought I was supposed to be the athletic one."
Alex scoffs, "Who told you that? Are you the one lugging around an entire drumset every weekend?" At Willie's laugh, Alex tacks on, "I didn't think so."
They make a full lap around the rink before Alex lets go, having to prevent Luke and Reggie from pulling on some little girl’s milk boxes to make her go faster, because no, that’s not how physics works, and yes, people will notice, Luke.
After, Willie moves to get off at the boards, and Alex pulls a disappointed pout. Willie just motions toward the ice, saying, "I know you didn't just come here to pull me around the whole time, I wanna see your turns and stuff."
Alex hesitates, "But I don't want to leave you here by yourself—"
He’s cut off by a familiar harmony playing in the background, and Luke and Reggie poof by his side in an instant. Alex barely has any time to register it before Reggie is putting a hand on his shoulder and Luke is asking if he’s okay.
And Alex doesn’t know how to answer that right away, if he’s being honest. At first, he thinks he might not be, because all he remembers is scolding, leaving, hiding, but he reminds himself it’s 2020 and he’s a ghost; that his parents are as involved in what was left of his life now as they were when he came out— not at all. The feeling of freedom starts to envelope him; the same freedom as when he danced with Dirty Candy at Eat ‘n’ Beats, the same freedom as when he played the drums at the Orpheum, and the same freedom he had before his last recital. He takes a deep breath.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” Alex replies, trying to hide his newfound itching to just get back out there.
Reggie drops his hand from his shoulder with a smile; meanwhile, Luke catches notice of Julie and Flynn starting a mini snow fight, to which he immediately races over and shouts, “I want in!” Reggie just shrugs and poofs over. Whether to stop him or join, the world may never know.
Alex rolls his eyes at his friends’ antics and looks back over at Willie, anxious energy seemingly radiating off of him— except, not as it usually does; now it was more excitement than anything else.
“Go show off, Alex,” Willie says, shooting him away with a smile.
Alex unsuccessfully tries to suppress the overwhelming giddy feeling that rises in his chest, and he skates. Again.
Finally.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 years
Text
Knight in Shining Red Armor | Dante + Child!Reader (DMC 4)
A/N: Hey so this is a rewrite of one of my first (and only) DMC fic from like...2016. This takes place post-DMC 4
You can read the og one on my DeviantArt! But if you're here for the new one then I hope ya'll enjoy!
Summary: Child!Reader was taken under Dante's wing after being saved from a demon invasion, but even years later he hesitates to tell them what he truly is, fearing they'll resent him for his demonic heritage.
............
"Hey, um..Dante?"
"What's up, kiddo?" The red-clad devil hunter asked, though he wasn't completely paying attention to you. Rather he was sitting at his desk, feet kicked up as he was flipping through a magazine.
Meanwhile you were roaming around the shop, stopping only to gaze at the massive curved sword with glowing gems hanging on the wall behind him. He mentioned claiming many weapons--"Devil Arms" as they were called--from defeated demons, but you were curious about their names.
"Just wondering..what's that sword behind you called?"
"The Sparda. It sealed the barrier between the Underworld and human world. Nero went through hell and back, quite literally, to return it to me, so don't even think about touching......it?"
Dante put the magazine down as he turned to see you holding the Sparda in your small hands. You smiled triumphantly, but stumbled a bit before the blade accidentally slammed into the wooden floor, making you wince.
"Oops."
Yet your little act amused him, as he chuckled and shook his head. "You're a little too young to go devil-hunting, I'm afraid. But maybe one day you will."
"And maybe you can help pay off Dante's debt, too." Trish lightly joked as she entered the room, taking the giant sword from you and putting it back on the wall.
Her words were responded by a groan from the male, who went back to reading.
"Whatcha reading?"
Dante slowly lowered the magazine to see you sitting on his desk, but he just snapped it shut and tossed it into the trash, out of your line of sight. "Nothing that eyes like yours gotta see."
"Okay....ooooooh, what's this briefcase?" Hopping off the desk, you ran over to Pandora and crouched down to poke the skull emblem.
"Pandora. That baby can turn into six hundred and sixty six different weapons, but...right now we only have access to seven." Now he was feeling like an exhausted teacher on a museum trip, trying to explain each exhibit to his hyper first graders--the exhibits being his Devil Arms.
Yet as you ran around asking him about more of them, he couldn't help but see his childhood-self reflected in you. Just full of energy and never-ending curiosity and optimism.
Yeah..he definitely saw the resemblance.
Eventually you decided to leave him be and dash off to your room.
And only then did Dante drop his smile, sighing as he put both feet back on the ground. He ran a hand through his hair before dragging it down the side of his face tiredly.
"You know..you'll have to tell them eventually." Trish reminded.
"How, though? That kid's afraid of all demons..hybrids or not. I'm pretty sure saying "oh by the way the guy who rescued you is actually half-demon" is gonna send 'em running, and...I can't risk that." He shook his head, gazing at the jukebox in the corner.
"But I think [y/n]'s old enough to comprehend the concept of not all demons being evil," Lady chimed in after overhearing the conversation. "Just give it to them straight and I'm sure they'll understand."
As much as Dante wanted to argue, he saw that she had a valid point. But he still worried...
How would you react?
It's been a few years since he saved you from a Mega Scarecrow, though it turned out that more demons invaded your neighborhood, slaughtering everyone you knew and loved. And as he took you back to the shop to patch you up, he could see the terror in your eyes, any traces of innocence long gone.
No child should have gone through such a tragedy.
A tragedy that he was all-too familiar with.
After the defeat of the Savior, things have been looking up. You've regained your happiness as you lived in Devil May Cry and learned of Dante's tales of devil hunting, though the memories of that horrible night never truly left you alone.
Along with that, just seeing a demon is enough to make you run and hide, and you were terrified when you first met Nero and saw his demonic arm.
From that incident alone, Dante became extremely reluctant to tell you of his own demonic heritage.
He just didn't know if he's only hurting you more by keeping it hidden..
...............
Later that night, you were plagued by yet another nightmare. Different demons, same neighborhood...same deaths of your loved ones.
But in this one Dante got hurt, too. And you tried so hard to be brave for him, even shouting in the demon's face...but in the end you failed as it snatched you away, dragging you into the darkness of the Underworld before he could reach you.
Although you calmed down since awakening, you wanted to be sure he was alright.
So with what little moonlight shone in the shop's darkness, you located the worn sofa where Dante laid. He was engrossed in some TV program, though after sensing your presence his eyes flickered to you.
No words had to be exchanged in order for him to see what was wrong, as he sat up and patted the spot beside him. You smiled in relief and climbed onto the sofa, snuggling into his side as he wrapped an arm around you. "Th-Thanks, Dante."
"No prob. So uh..another nightmare, I guess?"
"Yeah, but..they hurt you, too and...I-I tried staying brave. I shouted at them to leave you alone and..they didn't listen. But...I think one of them looked scared of me."
"Wow." He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Gotta say I'm impressed."
"Really?"
"Absolutely. Y'know demons are used to seeing kids scream and cry, not take a stand against them. Plus that's pretty epic of you to defend me, so thanks." With a smile, he ruffled your hair.
"You're welcome," you giggled a bit. "But..I really just wanna be as brave as you. I mean...Nero says you laugh at giant demons and tease them all the time. How do you do that without being scared?"
"Well..it comes with the business. Getting them riled up just makes the fight more fun. At least for me. You might think I'm crazy but if ya decide to hunt demons one day...you'll see what I mean."
"But until then, could I watch you fight one? Like a big bad one?"
"......."
"Dante?"
"..kid, there's a reason I never took you on any missions." Dante sighed, swallowing back the growing lump in his throat as he carefully planned his next words. "And how I always...bounce back from getting smacked by a demon tail. No human would be able to withstand that without some broken bones."
"Oh?" You tilted your head. "Then..how can you if you're human?"
"....because I'm not fully human."
As much as he wanted to shut up, he decided to tell you the truth once and for all, not sugarcoating anything:
He explained how his parents were a demon and human--a forbidden romance which resulted in himself and Virgil being born. His bloodline allowed them to blend in with humans, exercise their demonic abilities in battle, and even tap into their true demon forms.
All the while you listened silently, with not much emotion on your face. So it was hard for him to tell what you were probably thinking in this moment.
It scared him.
"...and that's it." He sighed, closing his eyes and looking away from you. "So go ahead and hate me if you want. I won't blame you for-"
"Can you show me?"
Dante blinked stupidly as he swung his head back towards you, wondering if he heard you right.
"I...wish you told me before, but I don't wanna be scared of demons anymore." You smiled a tiny bit as you elaborated. "Especially not one who helped me. So...can I see your other form?"
"...a-alright. Just...if you get scared I can turn back instantly, so don't freak."
"I won't."
He had doubts you'll keep your word, but he got up and activated his Devil Trigger form. As he opened his eyes, you gasped upon seeing how much they were glowing--being orange rather than blue. Red electric sparks danced around his metallic body as he observed you close, anticipating your reaction. He expected you to scream or cry.
Yet..there was only curiosity and wonder in your eyes.
"Scared yet?" He asked in his distorted voice, crouching down in front of you.
Not even the way he spoke startled you, as you just shook your head. "I was wrong all along..not all demons are bad."
"Not even this one?"
"Nope. You look awesome..like a knight in shiny red armor."
"...wow..I um...." For once, the talkative devil hunter was at loss for words. But when you learned forward to hug him around the neck, he was completely shocked.
Earlier in the day he thought of countless worse-case scenarios, and yet...the best-case was happening right now.
You were accepting him, hugging him even.
He couldn't believe it.
Dante smiled as he wrapped his arms around you, making sure his armor spikes didn't hurt you. "Thanks, kid. It really means a lot that you're not terrified anymore........[y/n]?" He was concerned about your lack of response, before realizing you were dozing off.
'Damn..I might make a pretty good dad, after all..' He mused, standing up and making the trek back to your bedroom. Then he set you down and tucked you in, relief and warmth in his heart.
He had a feeling that your nightmares won't be so bad anymore. Now he felt like he could truly protect you.
Why?
Because he was gonna be your knight in shining red armor.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"Jeez, man. Quit clanking around shit and---AH!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!!"
"Shhhh! Chill out, Nero. You'll wake 'em." Dante was quick to shift back to his human form once he was outside your room, glaring at his nephew. "Why are you so freaked out? This ain't the first time you've seen my devil form."
"But still..why in the middle of the night?! Thought we had company."
"...just go back to bed, kid."
"Don't call me kid!"
254 notes · View notes
laketaj24 · 3 years
Text
Serotonin II
Author’s Note: Here it is! I am taking requests, and the taglist is open, drop your name under this fic or on this list if you are interested! This does have a prior part but can be read as a standalone.
Pairing: Colson Baker x Reader
Warning: Smut, breeding kink
Inspo Song: Bad Things
Part I
My MASTERLIST
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Colson: Busy?
Y/N: Why would I be busy?
Colson: For sure ain’t been answering my texts 🥱
Y/N: You need something, Col?
Colson: You know you only call me Col when you’re half asleep or whimpering my name when you about to cum. Let me come over.
Tongue-tied, his messages left you baffled. They were a smooth variation of sexting mixed with pleading. Every message included a very Colson apology but a rebuttal that followed and reminded you why you couldn’t fall back in the same routine with him. It was easy to picture yourself back with him, nestled against his lean frame - listening to his voice as it rumbled against his chest as he rambled on. You saw it clear as day, but the truth of the matter was he didn’t do what you required to have you back in his life. Fucking you in the bathroom of some club like a whore, giving your body a fix, but your heart and mind still felt that hesitation when it came to Mr. Baker.
“Are you listening?” Dana asked, holding up the soy powder milk for your nephew.
“I heard you clear as day.”
“You sure you didn’t just daydream the entire I talked about not feeding Jaylen after seven?” Dana placed the soy milk on the table and glanced down at her newborn. “If you’re not up to it, I can stay. I hate going out of town so soon after having him.” She tapped her soon on the back a few times and exhaled.
“We will be fine.”
“You say this, but I don’t believe you.”
“Why?”
“You’re head has been shot ever since you broke up with the delinquent.” She rolled her eyes. “And what pisses me off is Tyla loves him!” She whispered and turned her attention to the seven-year-old parked in front of the tv. “I mean worships him.”
“I know. Colson is good with kids.”
“Because he’s childish.” She added. “He’s basically a six variant of one.”
“You can’t say one thing nice?”
“His music isn’t shitty,” Dana added. “I will be back at eight for the both of them, and I swear not to do this again, just my boss needs me, and their dad is busy.” She lied. “So- I love you, sis. Call Eric!” Dana kissed your cheek and sprinted out the door without another word.
Eric, you hadn’t seen him since you left the club a week ago, and you barely responded to his texts. The ride home was awkward; the entire time, he talked about how much he enjoyed the night. And the only thing you could think about was getting bent over in the bathroom by your ex. Good date.
Auntie duty had started. Diapers, Tiktok, YouTube, and some weird pig cartoon lay ahead of you for the next nine hours. Jaylen slept peacefully in his playpen, unbothered by his mother's lack while Tyla consumed her tv.
Colson: I got food open the door.
Y/N: What door?
Colson: Your apartment door. It’s Chipotle.
Fuck, you were hungry.
Y/N: Leave the food on the porch.
Colson: I’m not a god damn door dash.
The abrupt knocking startled Jaylen, soo you took him in your arms and walked to the door, “Stay in the living room Tyla.”
“K,” She answered, not even looking up from her phone.
You opened the door revealing Colson in his pink hoodie and gray joggers. He held bags of food in his hand and garnished a big smile on his face, “You look good with a baby.”
“Why are you here?”
“You wouldn’t come to see me or invite me over, so invited myself over. Can I come in?”
“No.” Jaylen stirred in your arms, his plump little legs kicked, and you sighed. “I am busy today. That’s why I didn’t invite you over. I have to keep my nieces and nephews, and every time you are over here, you either curse too much or we end up fucking.”
“Watch your mouth.” He teased.
“How were you texting with all that in your hands?” You stared at him.
“You know I got talented hands.”
“Colson!”
Why? You grimaced inwardly before looking at your overly excited niece, she loved Colson, and you hated to admit, he might be an asshole sometimes, but he loved kids. He was a wonder with them. You slapped your face, disappointed there was not a way to hide the massive man at your door. “He can’t stay.” You answered before the question left your lips.
“Why? Please!” Tyla pouted her pink lips and threw her arms up in defeat. “We never see him anymore.”
“That’s your aunt’s fault,” Colson added fuel to the fire. “I won’t stay long.” He pushed through, entering your apartment to greet Tyla with a hug at her level and a sly wink to you. Kids were the way to your heart – and his, but he would not win you over with this bullshit today. Not at all. “You hungry, Tyla?”
“Yeah, ten minutes, and you’re out.”
“Damn.”
“Tiktok?’ she held up her phone and the ring light from her purple book bag. “Please.”
“Word, what are we learning?” He raised his brows to you and proceeded to make himself comfortable on the couch; she was ecstatic, immediately standing to do a dance and drag you over to learn it too. Tiktok had become the bane of your existence, but for Tyla and her half a million followers, she was golden.
One hour later and you were tired, you’d perfected the dance, and Colson had convinced her to let him skip the dancing and just be—it was all he had to do though, she’d get one million views just because of who he was, and now everyone would know you were with him. Your heart dropped a little thinking about the exposure while she edited the video next to both of you.
“Why is Uncle Colson never around?” Tyla never looked up from her phone; she just continued her mission of posting that sixty-second video and ruining your life.
“He’s not your uncle.” You corrected.
“That’s your aunt’s fault too.” He added.
“Don’t start with me.” The harsh whisper came out as a warning, waking baby Jaylen from his nap and making Colson chuckle in amusement.
“I like him; I want him in the family.”
“I want a million dollars.”
“I can give you that.” He said.
“And a loyal boyfriend who doesn’t text insta-sluts in his spare time.”
“Don’t use sluts in front of her damn; your mouth is outrageous Y/N.”
The narrowing of your eyes made him burst into laughter again. He was damn good at annoying you like he had it mastered.
The day passed quickly with him making eyes at you, caring for Jaylen while she styled Colson’s hair in four ponytails atop his head, garnished with bows, and she even attempted to give him edges. He didn’t care; as long as she was happy, he was good.
“You look a mess.”
“It’s cool.” Colson snapped a picture. “Been waiting forever to see if ponytail was for me or not; it’s a no.” He sat back on the couch while Tyla disappeared to your room for god knows what else. “You look good with babies, you know?”
“You’ve said that.”
“I meant it; you’re good with them too.” He sighed. “I thought about kids with us, like every damn day.”
“Funny.” You shrugged, and she appeared with your bright pink polish. “What’re you doing, Tyla?”
“Painting his nails.” She plopped down in front of him, and without hesitation, he held his hand out for her. “We did blue last time.”
“Yep.” He exhaled. “Don’t you want this?”
He didn’t have to elaborate; you knew what he was talking about, but a family was the last thing from your mind, no matter how perfect the scenario looked right now. “Do you?”
Colson smacked his lips. “We can talk later.”
“You leaving when they do.” You reiterated.
The door opened thirty minutes later without a knock or doorbell; Dana never announced herself. “I see he found his way back in.” Her mouth dropped as soon as her eyes met him. “Tyla just had her way today, didn’t she.” She laughed. “Oh god, she gave this man braids.”
“Your daughter is talented.” He laughed. “Might be a new look.”
“Ridiculous.” She held her laughter. “Ty, get up and come on, love; we have a long drive.” She took Jaylen from your chest and gave you a look. “How long is he staying?”
“Not long, sis, drive safe.”
“I will. Colson, you leave in ten minutes, or I’m sending our brother over.” She pointed to him.
“I’m not scared of Michael; send him.” Why did his arrogance only make you want him more? He looked to Dana, who, like him, was not bothered.
“I hate him.” She mumbled as she left. “I just fucking hate him.”
“It’s mutual!” Colson laughed as the door shut. “You’re gonna stay over there the whole time?”
“Aint no reason for me to be over there for real.” You thought of three reasons to stay where you were, the drop in his voice, the tension in this room that could be cut with a knife, and when he was alone with you, your willpower was nonexistent. “You have five minutes.”
“We aren’t going to talk about this, are we? You like being evasive and shit? That you’re new persona?”
“I have no new persona. This is me not playing into all the bullshit you bring when you’re with me. This is a wall.”
“I’m about to knock that wall over.” He smirked.
“Stay on your couch.” You warned.
Colson held his hands up, acting defenseless, “I wasn’t moving from this spot.”
“My sister hates you, you know that? She literally said that I would be better off leaving Cali before staying here with your toxic ass.” You found yourself pointing at him and wanting to knock that smile from his face. Colson liked to see you get feisty with him; he called that foreplay, and here you were dancing to the beat of his drum, pissed.
“How am I toxic? I stopped all that shit for you, every ounce of it.”
“Stop lying.”
Colson grinned at you, unwavering in his position and impressed that you were persistent in yours; your usual fights lasted about one day. You’d take him back, and everything went back to how it was before, but that changed nothing; you wanted him to change. “I am not lying to you. Come here.”
You walked over to him, taking his hand and allowing him to pull you down in his lap. Facing him, you admired all the little cuts he’d earned over the years in senseless fights or accidents. Your fingers traced over them before you cupped his face. What the fuck were you doing? Why were the two of you akin to magnets? Drawing one another in half of the time and then at the flip of a side hating one another? You placed your lips on him, parting his lips with your tongue and then flicking playfully over his teeth before he caught your bottom lip with his teeth and tugged. The slight pressure made you moan against him. He cradled your neck with one hand, not allowing you to escape him. Colson deepened the kiss, adding pressure and taking what little breath you had away. “I fucking miss you, Y/N.” He rasped.
"Don't talk.”You murmured back.
Colson didn’t listen; he never listened.  “You were good with them today.”
You growled, grinding your hips on him. “Shut up, Colson.”
“I want to talk to you, I want you back Y/N, shit. Like I am trying, I canceled recording sessions, appearances, and other shit all this month so we can figure this out. I don’t want to-,”
You stopped him from talking, gripping his cock through the sweats with one hand and kissing him to shut up.
“Stop.” In one fluid motion, your hands were by your side, and your eyes were on his, “We’re talking; I was not fucking other women. But I was entertaining them, and it’s no excuse. I know you’re hurt; I’m sorry. Like real talk, no joke – I apologize.”
“How do I know it won’t happen again?’
“I'll delete all this shit for you,” He admitted. “Fuck a platform.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“I’m dead ass right now. Fuck it all. I just want you.”
“If it happens again, I am never taking you back, ever.”
“It won’t.” He whispered, loosening the grip on your hands.
You took advantage of the notion, moving your hand down to his cock, rubbing the hilt through his sweats again.
“Nah,” He gripped your hair, pulling you back, so your eyes met him. “It’s my turn now.” He pushed aside your shorts in seconds, and his fingers plunged into your pussy, curling for a moment and then spinning out of you. He placed his fingers on your lips, “Open up.” You didn’t hesitate to take his fingers, licking your own juices from them, and he tapped your face sending a slight pleasurable sting. “How you taste?”
“Ready.” You pulled him from the sweats feeling him jump at your cool hands, and stood up, wriggling out of the shorts before hovering back over him again.
Colson playfully tosses you on your couch, draping one leg to the ground. “Let me taste.” He whispered as he descended between your legs. Colson’s fingers brushed your swollen clit, before his lips latched on, sucking. You bowed from the couch, the moans and scratched to his shoulders done nothing but encourage. He lapped up your juices before diving his tongue into you and swirling around. You gasped, surprised and pleased as he worked.
“Col-“ You gripped his shoulders, lifting yourself from laying down, and he took full advantage, pulling you onto his face and fucking you with his tongue. Your body coiled, the jolts of pleasure popped around your body, and then you came. The white-hot energy surged through your body, and you panted, shaking, almost collapsing back on the couch. He caught you peppering the wet kisses from your pussy to your mouth.
“You good?”
“Better than.” You whispered, breathing heavily. “ Shit.”
“We’re not done.” Of course, you weren’t; his cock throbbed against his leg, waiting to ruin your life, and here you were still out of breath. Colson gently pulled you from the couch, sitting you in his lap, and he started once again with the kisses. You could taste yourself on his lips, and for some reason, that just made you wetter for him. He took advantage of stroking himself before he lowered you down on him. You took every inch, mouth slightly open and hair swinging the entire time. You pressed your breast against his chest, savoring the warm feeling of his cock inside of you, and then you started moving on him. Your muscles clenched around, gripping him with each stroke. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone; you took that added pleasure in stride biting your lip as it intensified every time your skin met.
Colson’s eyes were hooked on you, his fingers dug in your ass, guiding you up and down on his cock, urging you to keep going, and there was no way in hell you were going to stop. You could feel it building once again, this time bigger. “Hold it.” He whispered, knowing you were about once more. “Not yet.”
“Ah,” Impatience grew over you; you slowed your ride, winding your hips slowly, your eyes closed as you took over, fucking up into you, guiding your body to take more. “I can’t.” You whined as you fought to hold the orgasm back.
“Yeah, you can.” He slammed into you harder, knocking the breath from you, your toes curled, and you screamed as you shook against him. “I wanna feel that pussy shake around me when I cum; hold it.” He slapped your clit with three fingers, and your breath hitched. “Hold it.” His hand travels up your shirt to your bare stomach, and he kisses you once more. “Y/N.”  His hips rocked slowly, but then he started to fuck you quicker, the tip of his dick hitting your g-spot each time. You were a screaming mess, biting down on his shoulder. That done the trick he spasms against you growling. His warm cum triggered you. You came, sinking down and taking all of it. “Shit, you cheated.”
“You would’ve lasted forever.” You smiled lazily.
“Is that a complaint or a compliment?”
“Both.”
You wince, sliding off him, “right.” He rolled his eyes. “Now we gotta eat reheated Chipotle.” he stood up, fixing his pants. “Can I stay?”
“I guess.” You pulled the blanket over you, snuggling into your favorite place on the couch. He heads into the kitchen, and you reach for your phone, wondering what threat your sister had for you.
Meg: Are you still coming tonight?
This was not your phone; of course, it wasn’t. You unlocked the phone, clicking her name to look at the messages. But there is only red as Colson makes his way back into the living room. You throw the phone across the room, hitting the wall, and he stares at you. “What the fuck?”
“Take you and that Chipotle and get out.”
“Damn, what the Chipotle do?”
  A/N: One more part coming. I’ll drop it next week, I think! Thank yall for reading! Let me know what you think!!
Taglist: @taytayize123​ @ctrlszn @supernaturalvikingwhore @jae-writes-fanfiction @bigsisbria @placeoffreedom @kyla-queen @missdforever @gottatoxicattitude @bang-kim-bap @msreshel @blowmymbackout @titty-teetee @strawberry-skyes @mauvecherie @savageiz @bang-kim-bap @luci-her @littlelovebug98 @babyboy-cody @hellshedevil @daddyavesxx @crystalbaby12 @jeonsblackgf
commenters from serotnin who might be interested: @mgkmerchstyles @mayaslifeinabox
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sweetpxxches · 3 years
Text
I got time. [Hank x AFAB Reader]
Contains: Smut, fluff, mild blood stuffs.
The reader is AFAB but goes by gender neutral pronouns. 
The first fic I post here and it’s just me being a simp for Hank as of late my lords above don’t look at me and my shame but enjoy it anyway LMAO
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Somewhere, in Nevada, settles a group of mercenaries that managed to crawl their ways into a hideout where there was a scarce amount of grunts and guards that were on the hunt for them. You were there, laying flat on a worn down couch breathing lightly, though wincing through your teeth every once in a while as Sanford was bandaging a gashing wound on your back. You cursed under your breath unsure of how long the pain was going to last, the feeling of your skin burning was unbearable, but alas it finally was over when Sanford lightly patted your hip and getting off of you with a “You’re good to go,” and turning over to Deimos who was asking for a smoke. It’s been a rough week, with Hank going solo in most of his tasks there wasn’t a lot to hope for at the end of the day. But knowing him, he’s certainly doing just fine and if more, having the time of his life doing what he loves most. Sometimes you wonder if he even thinks about you. “Hey, Mercenary.” Deimos called out to you. You sat up grumbling, rubbing the now bandaged wound as you turned to gaze over Deimos, who was slumped by a window, legs spread apart on a chair puffing smoke out to the direction of the open window.
“Yeah?” Was all you could say. Deimos held his cigarette in his mouth, using his hands to gesture out the window. With that silent statement was all you needed to know that Hank’s finally made his way back to his crew. You sprung up only to pause midway from the stabbing pain you forgot existed, and held your side to keep going forward. “Settle down, hot shot. I’m sure Hank’s coming in on his own.” Deimos snickered, puffing the smoke through his mouth as he tips his hat over his eyes, leaning back to relax. You pouted at him, but your head jerked back when you heard the door open, Hank standing there to see his crewmates doing just fine. Immediately, you rushed over to hug the behemoth of a man who you could only level at his chest. Because of the tough muscle, it didn’t really make Hank budge much from you just practically attempting a tackle-hug on him. “Hey, you.” Hank simply stated, ruffling your hair as he closed the door behind him. “I haven’t heard from you in a while, but that’s what I’d expect since I’ve been fucked over a few times from those grunts.”
“Good to see you back, Hank.” Sanford welcomed, who was cleaning his hook by Deimos. “Anything new?” “Just a few files of past conversations between Sheriff, Jebus, and the Auditor.” Hank held up folders, tossing them over to Sanford as he slumped into the couch you sat on before, stretching back and leaning his head back. “I’m starting to wonder where these fuckers are making their planned dates these days, just seeing them talk all that talk and yet have their dogs do all the dirty work annoys me.” Sanford huffed, looking down at his weapon. “Yeah well, it keeps them busy being idiots while we find more about what’s going on behind the scenes with them. How’s the conditions with everyone?” Hank asked. “Deimos nearly lost a leg, but he’s recovering, Mercenary’s back got gashed but I handled the wound, nothing too extreme. I did fine so far.” Sanford replied, though Hank looked over to you. “Shit, you getting rusty with the whole ‘look behind’?” Hank teased, poking your head as you puffed your cheeks.
“Don’t start playing with me, it’s bad enough that I’m hurt as it already is.” You retorted, settling back down on the couch, cursing under your breath once more as you felt the stinging. Though you couldn’t help but personally scoff at Hank’s obvious worries being plastered as banter. He’s not really the type to show his worries over anyone, even to his closest comrades. Deimos hummed, looking over to Hank. “Hey, you think we can call this a small break for us all? I’m beat.” You sighed, nodding at his response. “Yeah, Deimos is right, I’m exhausted, and I ain’t going to run around with this back ache.” It wasn’t long until Hank lazily waved off of the statements. “Alright, alright, I’m sure we can call this a night for us all.” With that, the group sighed in relief. “Thank God, in that case I’m gonna go call it a night, I ain’t gonna miss this opportunity of sleep.” Deimos stated, hopping off his seat as he burned out his cigarette, flicking it off to the floor. Sanford watched him leave, and began to sit up himself. “I’ll be spectating the area, that way in case anyone gets too close I’ll take them down and give you guys the que.” He stretched, grabbing his hook and a rifle in both hands making his way out the door. Deimos went upstairs, and Sanford was outside. Which then left you and Hank.
It was kind of awkward at first, you weren’t sure what you wanted to say or even do, but Hank looked over to you. “What about you? You’re the one that’s been complaining all night.” He smirked, and you lightly shoved him. “Oh, shut up. I don’t have time for your uncalled for bullying.” You joked, but he seemed to be watching your every move. You weren’t so sure if this was just him taking the joke too seriously, or there’s something going on his mind. But he shrugged it off, leaning on the other side of the couch, hands behind his head. “You talk too much sometimes, you know that, right?” “Look who’s talking.” You crossed your arms, raising a brow. Where was he even going with this? You weren’t sure. Or were you overthinking things? Then again, just look how he’s behaving, it’s almost as if...
“Hey, eyes up here.” Hank tilted his head, raising a brow back at you. You snapped out of it, cheeks flushed. “Hey, shut up!” You didn’t even know what to say for yourself other than you may be looking at Hank a little more than you should. It was a moment of silence, you looking away and leaning on the other side of the couch, ignoring Hank’s curious gaze. His red tinted glasses shined, and he sat up. “Hey, you’ve been acting pretty weird as of late. What’s going on in your mind, Mercenary?” He asked. You turned your head to him, “Nothing! I’ve just been stressed and exhausted from all of this, don’t you know how tiring it is at times? Actually, don’t answer that. You’re never tired.” You then turned back, but Hank scoffed at you. “Someone’s feisty. Listen, I can get a good guess as to why you’re acting this way, and it’s because you missed me, wasn’t it?”
Oh, you hated how right he was. With a furrowed brow, you eyed at him, but not turning completely just yet. “What’s it to you?” You simply put, and he knew where this was going. “Listen Merc, I know you hate my guts whenever I turn away from you, but I promise ya it isn’t because I want to, it’s just I’m a busy guy.” He placed a hand on your shoulder, and your tension let loose immediately. “I know Hank, but it’s just it’s hard to do things without you.” You then turned completely to him, who was already close to your face, and that caught you by surprise. “What, can’t do things on your own, sweetheart?” Pet names. He’s giving you pet names now. May Jebus save your soul now. “It’s not that, it’s just...”  “It’s just what?” He continued, fixing a strand of your hair behind your ear. You couldn’t even make eye contact to hose red tint shades. “It’s just... I miss you too much to last without you for that long, Hank.” You finally admitted, sighing in defeat. Hank lifted your chin, and tugged you close. “Babe, it’s okay. I promise you that’ll be the last time I keep you away.”
“For now, isn’t it?” You replied.
It was silence at first. “Yeah. But it’s the thought that counts, right?” Hank said, and you couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, even if it hurts to know he might do this again eventually. But that’s later, and this is now, and you can tell Hank is thinking the same way. It wasn’t until he tugged his bandana off his chin, revealing that grotesque zombie-looking metal jaw. But to you, you found that the best thing about him. “How about I’ll make it up tonight with something special?” Hank brushed his nose against yours, feeling your soft breath against his. “... But aren’t you going to be busy?”
“I got time. Take that armor off, Mercenary. I’m gonna make up those days I missed you.” Did he just admit he missed you just as much?
You couldn’t even process that, because Hank immediately filled the gap to give you a somewhat sloppy kiss, of course with him lacking lips, you couldn’t really make way with it, but that’s not what he had in store, it was that tongue he holds. You shuttered as you felt it glide across your lips, wanting to get into your mouth. You didn’t hesitate until you began unbuckling your hefty armor, letting Hank take over. You gasped as he slid his tongue passed your lips, his drool dripping onto your chest but you couldn’t care, the mess wasn’t gonna get any cleaner anyway. His massive figure mounted above you as you leaned back onto the couch, letting his large hands gently caress your sides as you wrapped your arms behind his neck. However, despite it, you flinched at the wound causing you pain, but Hank knew he had to be careful with it. He didn’t want you to hurt throughout, so he decided to keep his hands gentle on the grip of your sides. 
His tongue reached every inch of your mouth, circling it with your own tongue as you grew desperate for him to touch you further. You held your head back as he began to bite down on your shoulder, hands beginning to venture more around your body.
“Hey, you won’t be getting just war scars now, huh?” Hank joked. “Just shut up and fuck me up, Hank.” You ordered. That hit a certain spot in Hank, making him want to do just exactly that. He didn’t hesitate any further, grabbing your bottoms with a swift tug down, letting you move your legs to take them off. He wasn’t the type to take off his own clothing, but when it comes to his partners, that’s a different story. He kept one hand on your hip as the other made way under your lower garments, large digits gently caressing your slit as he kept his head nestled between your neck and shoulder, enjoying your scent as well as your soft sounds. “Didn’t take long for you to get that wet, huh? Just how long have you been thinking about me? About this? You’re a wonder, Merc.” Hank teased, biting your ear as his two fingers spread your slit open, making you gasp as his middle finger lightly rubbed your clit. He wasn’t the most experienced, but when it comes to trying to find the right spot, he does it well. The feeling of your lower hips jolt as he kept a caringly pace with rubbing your clit had him wish he could devour you whole, but patience was what he needed. 
Hank leaned back, moving himself down to position himself between your legs, your gaze almost begging for him to continue, and it wasn’t long until he took your beckoning as his long yet slender tongue made way to press against your cunt. You held your head back, keeping your volume low so you don’t get Deimos’s attention. But with the feeling of Hank’s wet tongue circle around your clit more efficiently than his fingers did, it was hard to keep it to yourself. It was a little bit of a hassle knowing there’s really nothing there you could get a hold of on his head, with a lack of hair and all, but there was an attempted to hold his head down, making him grunt as he knew what you’re asking for. His tongue slid down, pressing itself inside your cunt. The feeling of it made you quiver, Hank feeling your walls shutter from the tension his tongue was giving. This man was practically spoiling you, feeling your toes curl as you raised your hips at Hank, but he held you down so he can do most of the work. A fair share between you two, and you were already getting at your limits. Hank noticed your body shaking up, and he held back himself once more only to hear you whimper. Gods, he loved how sweet you could be. “Easy there, I’m not gonna leave you hanging.” Hank settled himself between your legs once more, this time he was unbuckling his belt and proceeding to unzip his pants. You bit your lip as you saw his large girth of a cock was pulled out, it was obvious he was growing impatient. He settled your legs around his hips, of course keeping mind about your wound. It was adorable how caring he can be with you.
He leaned over, his head pressing against yours as he began to position himself against your wet entrance, you didn’t even know what to say. Just seeing him above you, his muscular figure taking hold of you and taking what is yours his own, it drove you crazy. But he wasn’t being selfish with his affection, he knew he needed you just as much as you did. You held onto his shoulders, embracing it as his cock head pressed against your cunt, then slowly and surely, it broke way inside you. You winced, his hands on your hips to keep you put. “Are you doing alright there, Merc?” Hank whispered in your ear. You could only nod, and by god you didn’t want to speak any time soon. If you opened your mouth, you’d be gasping and moaning, and it’s already a chore keeping it down. Hank’s chuckle was heard, a low rumble in his chest as he began to move his hips slowly and carefully. You kissed his neck, feeling yourself stretch from his large girth, it was surprising you could of even managed to handle it this well. Hank could hear your small moans, and he hoped the volume will get louder, not caring if the other mercenaries could hear them. “Come on, Merc. I know you have a lot more in you, don’t have to be shy.” Hank cooed, his hands brushing up to give your breasts a soft squeeze, you looked away, trying to ignore him. But this just gave him a challenge.
“Merc, come on.” He spoke up, his hands now sliding under your shirt to fondle your breasts better, your cheeks flared up with a crimson red as he began to pick up the pace. The wet sounds of his body meeting against your own was growing loud, the sheer lewd sounds was driving you both wild. You couldn’t help but hold your head back, a moan escaping your lips. “That’s it, just like that. C’mon and do it louder.” Hank retorted, as his hands went back to your hips, moving your body against his, letting his whole shaft reach the ends of you. Your eyes widened, a loud squeak was heard out of you, and it made Hank laugh. “Good, that’s what I wanted.” Hank snarled, his pace now getting vigorous and desperate. He wasn’t slowing down for you, and you tried to grab his back, clawing at what you could. Now it’s finally reaching it’s point, you began moaning like no tomorrow, your volume was loud and you felt Hank became balls deep inside you, your walls tightening as he kept up the rough pace. “H-Hank, holy fuck Hank, calm down!” You plead, but he didn’t seem to hear you, the sound of the couch creaking as the hard wet slaps continued, you were seeing stars at this rate. But he wasn’t done, feeling himself get close, he placed one hand down to your clit, rubbing it as he continued to thrust. You groaned, feeling yourself beginning to come undone. “Cum for me, baby.” Hank requested, and you did what he told you to. Your body jolting as you reached a climax, but as you did so, Hank slammed himself deep inside you, releasing his thick warm ropes of cum inside you, the amount was overwhelming that it spilled out of you, your moans being muffled with Hank’s tongue making back way into your mouth.
It was a few moments, and Hank held his head and body to see his work. You were dazed, staring at the ceiling. “Seems like I overdid it, huh?” Hank asked, but you just weakly held up a thumbs up, simply saying “You did great.” As you grew limp, exhausted. Hank scoffed, slipping his cock out of you and watching the excess of cum leak out of you. As he pulled his cock in and zipped his pants, he scooped you up to take you upstairs. Settling your sleeping body on a bed, and he turned over to see a Deimos, disgruntled at them.
“Can’t you two be more fucking quiet next time?” Deimos stated, laying back down on his own bed. Hank could only chuckle at him. “Guess I’ll get louder next time just to spite your ass, Deimos.”
Meanwhile, Sanford outside could only be unsurprised at the fact you and Hank had fun while he was out drinking and keeping check of the area.
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
Text
Strictly Professional
Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Swearing
Genre: HUMOR, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: A slip of the tongue leads Corpse to make an unexpected confession which leads to him getting lectured by his best friend. That’s all you need to know, the rest shall unfold before your eyes.
Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your lovely request! I’m so sorry it’s been so long overdue but here it finally is and I really hope you come across it and read it. If so I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤
I’ve buried my head under my arms, resting it on my desk as my ears are still violated by the hollering coming from my headset. I don’t know what in me snapped out of nowhere or what caused the slip-up, but what matters is that it happened and now I’m in some hot water. I’m practically the soup everyone in this Discord call at the moment will be eating for dinner tonight, getting a real kick at my expense - some even having the audacity to be mad at me over it - ahem, Rae, ahem - but bottom line: I won’t live this down easily.
“Hey everyone! What did I miss?“ Sykkuno, who was running late and missed this entire debacle makes an appearance. If it were any other occasion, I’d be overjoyed to hear he’s finally joining us, but his question of what he had missed renders me only able to cringe and wait for my friends’ next move.
“Sykkuno!“ Rae exclaims ecstatically, “Oh, strap in, imma tell you what you missed...“
“No, you won’t tell him, Rae.“ Toast cuts her off, sounding uncharacteristically serious, especially when taken into account how hard he was laughing just a moment ago, “This is Corpse’s tale to tell, don’t spare him the shame of telling it one more time.“
And just when I thought this fucker would prove himself to be a true friend...
“Oof, this sounds serious...“ Sykkuno says to fill the silence I purposely let linger just so I don’t give these bullies the satisfaction of hearing my embarrassment all over again even though they inevitably will.
“It is...“ I sigh with a heavy heart, hiding my face in the palm of my hand, “It’s really bad and embarrassing and...I’d rather not retell it at all let alone for a second time, but here it goes...“ I inhale as much air as I can as a method of gaining confidence before I start talking, “So you know MGK and I made a song. Yeah well, we’re gonna be making a music video for it and I asked Rae to be in it. Thing is, I wanted to ask Y/N first. Buckle up, this is where it starts going downhill: ok so I went over to their place so we could just chit chat an marathon a few movies like we usually do over the weekends but I also wanted to bring up the whole ‘hey, wanna be in my music video’ thing but didn’t know how. Mind you, we were drinking beers this whole time, might’ve had a few too many actually. Ok, we definitely had a few too many, but back on track: as I was blabbering and stumbling over my words, nervous as all hell and unable to string the simple question inside my head, all Y/N did was tilt their head and smile at me. You know, the odd thing is it was a genuine smile, not a drunken grin like you’d expect from someone on their fourth beer bottle. And then, out of the blue, they had the audacity to hit me with: ‘You’re so cute’ and I just sat there frozen for a few seconds. I mean, my reaction was on point - who wouldn’t react like that if their crush told them they found them cute. Anyway - I was like ‘what?’ and then, out of an even bluer blue, they freaking kissed me. I nearly had a heart attack damn it!“
“And he never asked them to be in the DAYWALKER music video!“ Rae clearly couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“I didn’t get the time! I was out of there in the blink of an eye!“ I bark, feeling my face heating up with embarrassment and regret. God, I should never ask how stupid I can get because I keep surprising myself in the end with just how far my stupidity goes. It’s fucking insane.
“Oh God, poor Y/N.“ Sykkuno sighs, sounding only a tiny bit as though he’s about to laugh. I appreciate his self-control honestly, the rest of these fuckers were dying laughing as though our friends and my crush kissing me and me responding like I had an allergic reaction was the best joke to ever be told.
“Poor Y/N?“ I snap a little, “What about me?“
“Yeah, poor Y/N!“ Rae backs Sykkuno up, “Poor Y/N and poor me for the missed opportunity to me in a music video for a song of one of my best friends with another one of my best friends. Corpse, you better fix this!!“
“How?!“ I’m aware I sound desperate but I seriously wanna fix it just have no idea how to go about it. I mean, if this looney group of nine people over here don’t come up with a plan no one will so not all hope for me is dead just yet. Even if we all had only one braincell we’d still be able to figure it out - I mean, ten braincells ain’t as bad as it sounds. Truth be told, Y/N’s the real brain of the group and they’d most definitely be able to help me - so fuck the irony.
“Call them.“ Sykkuno suggests so casually as though it’s a no-brainer. I’d go as far as to say his nonchalance almost made me laugh. Has he forgotten who he’s talking to? 
“No way.“ I turn that down real quick, unable to even imagine the course of that phone call without cringing.
“No, Sykkuno’s right, call them right here right now. Ask them to star in the music video and then swerve the conversation to that kiss.“ Charlie’s suddenly decided to join the torturing being preformed upon me over here.
“What will I even say? I have no idea what to tell them!“ I complain, aware that I sound like a tantrum-throwing toddler but it’s really not my fault.
“Corpse. Corpse dear, listen to me, follow each word I say really carefully, ok?“ Rae asks, her voice now pitched as though she’s addressing an actual child. Yeah, that’s her well-known way of mocking me. “How about you say the actual fucking words. You know: ‘Hey Y/N, MGK and I are making a music video for DAYWALKER, wanna be in it?’“
I sigh, clearly defeated.
I pull out my phone, muttering to the crowd I’m about to speak in front of to be quiet as I put the ringing call on speaker, sweating like a pig the whole time. The room has risen in temperature and this hoodie has thickened, providing more warmth that’s more suffocating than comforting when it’s a hundred degrees outside. Or when I’m about to talk to my crush after THAT incident.
“Hello?“ Y/N’s voice on the other side rips me from my thoughts’ grasp, reminding me I’m on a mission.
“Hey Y/N, what’s up?“ I reply a little too quickly. Not giving them the time to reply with anything, I continue: “Hey Y/N, MGK and I are making a music video for DAYWALKER, wanna be in it?“
DAMN IT WHY DID YOU HAVE TO SAY IT WORD FOR WORD?!?!
“Oh....“ They sound confused - and rightfully so - but then regain their composure finally, “I-I’d love to. Thanks for the opportunity, Corpse. I’m so happy you’ve made it so far. I’d be honored to be in the music video.“
Ok, that’s partial relief. Now - time for the second phase of this plan
“Uh....“ and there goes my whole vocabulary out the window, “You’re welcome.“
“Cool...cool...“ they mutter awkwardly, clearly looking for a way to end the call, “Um, by the way...this is strictly professional, right?“
No! No it’s not! Of course it isn’t! I’ve been head over heels for you for a year now, damn it!
“Of course, o-of course it is. No worries.“ I reply, once again, a little too quickly. Faster than I could’ve prevented it.
“Ok cool...well, text me the details....“ They once again trail off, hoping I’ll catch the hint.
And so I succumb.
“Will do.“ I sigh, “See ya.“
“See ya.“ They reply and hang up.
I’m left there staring at my phone screen with utter self-disappointment and frustration that’s so intense I cannot even express it in any way.
The whole lobby is at a loss of words too - all nine of them astonished by my stupidity. Fortunately though, Charlie is quick to pull himself together and speak up because God forbid Charlie ever falls speechless, then we’d be SERIOUSLY in danger.
“Corpse. You. Are. The. Biggest. Fucking. Idiot.“
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unprofessional-bard · 3 years
Text
Don't Push It, Pt. 2
Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist
First Part (2/2)
Based on this request.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader
Warnings: Age gap (the reader is 26 and Joel is 53), angst, sexual tension, then smut: oral sex (m&f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, biting, choking, dom/sub vibes bc the reader is A Brat, rough & unprotected vaginal sex.
Summary: It's been going on for years. They both know better than to act on their feelings, but patience starts running thin when a few boundaries are crossed.
Word Count: 7.275 hehehe
Author's Note: This turned out to be a pure self indulgent smut but oh well. I have no shame and no excuses for this.
Like before, this fic changes POV's a lot:
• ----R and below: The reader's POV.
• ----J and below: Joel's POV.
• ----B and below: Both POV's.
The fic starts off with the reader's POV.
Enjoy!
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"Jesse..." You called for him, voice breaking and tears around the corners of your eyes. He was chatting with two other people, but immediately diverted his attention to you once he saw your expression.
"Hey, what's wrong?" He turned to you. You were pouting and chewing on your lower lip, refusing to speak, so he held your shoulders as he looked into your eyes: "What happened?"
You blinked away the urge to cry, trying to find comfort in the fact that he hadn't witnessed your interaction with Joel. When you shut you eyes, though, Jesse's right hand went to cup your cheek: "Come on- Hey, it's okay-"
"I'm gonna go home," You finally whined.
"Okay, let's go then," Jesse instinctively looked over to the door, but you softly grabbed his wrist.
"No, you stay..." You looked away, nausea forming at the pit of your stomach: "I wanna be alone."
"You sure?" You unintentionally leaned forward, lightly tripping on your own feet.
"Yeah, thanks," You finally let the tears go and a pair rolled down your cheeks. You don't remember being this embarrassed, ever; normally you wouldn't cry, but the alcohol fucked with you too.
"Aw, (Y/N)..." He quickly pulled you into a hug, pressing your head into his chest. "You're so not getting away with this. We'll talk about it tomorrow okay?" You just nodded and forced yourself to stop crying or, rather, stop yourself from making a noise. After he pulled away, you let Jesse wipe away the tears glistening your cheeks: "Would a kiss make you feel better-? On the cheek, of course."
You chuckled at his panic and nodded with watery eyes, then he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your wet cheek - a kiss you wished you'd gotten from Joel, it was a comforting gesture which made you want to cry more. Instead, before you let anyone notice what was going on, you walked out with rushed steps. The sudden contact with the warm summer air made you realise how suffocating it had gotten in there, the calm and quiet of the town easing your stress on minimal levels.
You furiously wiped away your tears as you stormed to your house, trying not to trip on your feet as you did.
How could I be so stupid? You thought and sniffed. Of course he was gonna reject me.
The feeling of nausea and embarrassment started to take over your thoughts, so you found yourself leaning against a streetlight, groaning: "Fuck..."
"Shouldn't walk back alone," A deep voice spoke from behind you. "Especially when you're drunk, as you are."
You turned around, fixing your posture as best as you could before realising it was Joel. Your worried expression turned into a tired and angry one when you saw him: "What're you doing here?"
"Lookin' out for you," He replied, stopping before you, keeping a healthy distance so he wouldn't invade your personal space. "Your boyfriend clearly ain't."
"The hell are you talking about?" You groaned in a hostile manner. "I don't need you to look after me..." You gulped and turned around, walking towards your house, which was around the corner: "I don't need you."
"Like hell you don't, y'can barely stand up," Joel growled.
His words angered you because how dare he mock me? Humiliation and ridicule riled you up, therefore you turned around and shoved him away once he was close enough: "Fuck off!"
"Keep your voice down." Joel spoke calmly.
You found yourself obeying almost immediately, the exhaustion mixed with embarrassment made your voice crack when you spoke: "Go away, Joel."
Your anger was superior at that moment, but you still -god fucking dammit- wanted him.
Frustrated, you were absolutely irritated by this man whom you wanted; you wanted to kiss him, wanted him to touch you, grab the undersides of your thighs and press you against the wall as he bit your collarbone... You managed to throw that away- if there was anything to throw away in the first place. Hours ago, when he 'helped' you with your stretches- he also showed up to the dance, even though he had said he wouldn't. He clearly liked you, but didn't he want you?
Why didn't he want you?
"Stop bein' stubborn and let me walk you home-"
"I'm not being stubborn, I just don't want you to... to..."
"To what?" He took a few steps in your direction, slowly. In truth, you didn't want him to see you in your current state. You were a mess, not your usual self and it made you want to get swallowed by the ground. "What, (Y/N)?" His voice softened and quietened as he used the side of his pointing finger to gently push your chin up so he could look into your eyes. "Say it."
Your eyes- glowing, beautiful eyes stared into his own. For a moment, you almost leaned into the small touch, but instead you pushed his hand away reluctantly: "Fine. Once I'm inside, you leave."
Joel agreed and watched you lead the way to your house. You ran a hand through your hair and huffed, slowly starting to lose your nerve in the meantime.
He was right with almost everything he said and had to say: You were struggling to stand up, had a killer headache with the urge to empty the contents of your stomach. The bathroom floor seemed like the ideal place to pass out on, the cold tiles would help you with the hot night air of Jackson-
You found yourself on your doorstep, reaching for the key to your house in the pocket of your skirt. Deep in thought and not all too displeased by his existence behind you, you almost forgot Joel was there. Trying to mask the sounds of your failed attempts at fitting the key into the hole, you spoke: "I'm here, safe n' sound. You can leave now."
Instead of replying, he walked up and lightly pressed himself against you when he took your key holding hand in his, gently squeezed it and helped you push it into the hole. Your breath hitched at the touch, heat gathering at your cheeks as he slowly twisted the key for you (you had lost function when you realised just how close he was). His chest easily covered your back, his scent somewhat invaded your senses and made you lean back before he opened the door. Your gaze lowered to the floor once he pushed it open and realised you had to reach the bathroom as soon as possible.
----B
Snapping back to reality, you marched to the bathroom in a few quick steps, Joel following suit. He closed the door behind him and once he reached to the bathroom door, just in time, he saw you drop to your knees in front of the toilet. Instinct taking over, he immediately walked behind you and collected your hair from in front of your face, then gently pulled them into a ponytail in one hand.
Fuck.
The nausea suddenly disappeared and got replaced, once more, with need when you realised what he had done. Your heavy breathing started to slow down as you two stood like that for a torturous minute.
"You okay?" Joel hesitantly asked, trying to catch a glimpse of your face. You silently nodded, trembling hands gripping the toilet seat harder, then finally pushed yourself up and Joel stepped back, keeping a hand hovering by your waist in case you fell.
Without saying anything, you washed your hands and splashed some water on your face, rubbing it as a means to sober yourself. Once you were done, you spread your arms to the sides and placed them on the edges of the sink, leaning down. You felt too awkward to look him in the eye, so, while burning a hole into the sink with your stare, you asked: "What are you doing here, Joel?" He was caught off guard. Before he had a chance to reply, you added: "What- I mean, you're getting off to seeing me all... miserable and- and humiliated? Is that it?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" He crossed his arms.
"You've mocked me quite enough, sir," You hissed, faking a different accent and pushed yourself off the sink. Joel took a step back outside to the hall when you walked towards him. "First you reject me, then call me drunk and then-"
"Please, look me in the eye and tell me you aren't drunk right now."
"Well, I'm not," You dropped your hands in defeat and let them slap against the sides of your thighs. "Not enough to not see what I want."
Joel's heart started racing at your words. He gave you an indecisive look, along with shock, lust and a side of shame: "I..."
"Why don't you want me?" You whispered, leaning against the wall behind you. Your expression simply laid between fatigued and trying-not-to-cry. Joel, on the other hand, was shocked. He had no idea about what he should say or do, so he gave himself a moment to recollect.
"Aren't you- I dunno, datin' someone?" He tried.
"What do you think?" You asked, as if you couldn't have been more obvious.
"Wouldn't you..." He tried again. "Shouldn't you be with someone your age?"
"Should?" You repeated, frowning, but you weren't angry.
"You didn't seem to have a problem with kissin' Jesse in there," He took a step towards you. "You should-"
"What the fuck do you know about what I should or shouldn't do?" You groaned. "Are you jealous? Is that it?"
"Oh, for god's sake," He turned his head away in frustration before looking back at you. His expression and voice softened: "You're so young, (Y/N)..."
"So? I know what I want." You stated and crossed your arms. You're so young and beautiful with your 30s ahead of you and you shouldn't waste your time on someone old like me. He was standing an arm away from you when you spoke again: "I know what you want, too. If only you'd stop making excuses."
"Why don't we let this go, hm? What do you want from me?" He lowered his voice, now deep and husky.
You stared into his eyes for awhile, then fixed your posture and straightened up, still leaning against the wall. Determined, you spoke: "You either leave me alone- walk out of that door and I'll be out of your hair forever."
Joel hated the idea as soon as he heard it, so he impatiently grunted: "Or?"
Your eyes flickered down to his lips for a solid second, then went back up to his eyes. "Stay. And kiss me."
There it was. The moment of truth.
Joel knew you wouldn't be so insistent if you didn't know he wanted you as much as you did him. He also knew that you had him where you wanted and that you'd also keep your promise about staying out of his hair- he didn't want you to, though. He'd hate himself if he broke your heart and even more so if he walked out of that door. So, with one last hesitation, his self control slowly disappearing, he asked: "Where does Jesse stand in all this?"
Yes, your mind screamed. He's going to stay.
"He's just a friend. He kissed me on my cheek, I don't understand why you're-"
"Cheek?" He asked abruptly, brows raising and eyes widening in unison. In his defense, from the angle he was sitting, plus the whiskey he'd been drinking, he was pretty sure Jesse had kissed you on the lips. The way he'd grabbed your cheek and the look of worry after you left hadn't helped either.
You chuckled: "Just admit you were jealous."
He didn't say a word, instead he just stared into your puffy eyes for a moment too long, then closed the space between your bodies. Before he knew it, he grabbed you by the hips and, finally, pressed his lips onto yours.
It was a little embarrassing, just how quick you were to gasp and moan into his mouth. He then pulled back, placed a hand on the side of your neck gently and pushed your head up with his thumb on your chin, wrecking you with one move. He looked into your eyes, then growled: "You've been drivin' me up the wall, y'know that? This morning, then at the dance..." He sighed, looked down and when he looked back up, he said: "I won't be gentle."
Was it that obvious that you wanted to be totally ruined by him?
You never looked anywhere else other than his eyes, too afraid that if you did, he'd disappear. So when he spoke, the words sending a thrill down your spine, you whispered back: "No one's asking you to."
If your legs were keeping you up to some level, they sure as shit weren't going to do that anymore because of the roughness of the kiss. It had a side of gentleness and professionalism to it too- had he kissed or made out with someone recently? Or even for once ever since he arrived in Jackson? He must've had, he was just so attractive and must've pulled someone into his web like he did with you. It wasn't his fault, really, but he contributed.
His tongue parted your lips and you let him explore your mouth, whining and moaning as quietly as possible. God, you thought, this must be heaven. The way he easily dominated you and made you weak in the knees probably made someone as confident as you look really pathetic, but you couldn't care less. He made you a dripping mess and him only, the rest wasn't important.
While his left hand was on your waist, the hand resting on the side of your throat wasn't squeezing but you wouldn't mind if he added a little pressure. The heavy breathing, your occasional whimpers and the promise of a rough treatment made your pussy ache with excitement - you could tell, by the hardness against your core and inner thigh, he was about the same.
For someone who practically sealed a deal to fuck you until you couldn't walk for the entirety of next week, he was still holding back. As much as it warmed your heart, it was your cunt that demanded attention at that moment: You decided to bite on his bottom lip; he pulled back with a groan, surprised and his hand flexed around your neck. Bingo.
The space between your faces wasn't even a span away, but he took his time to stare at you as you grabbed his right hand and moved it onto your throat slowly. Joel's breathing faltered at the sight: You, lips swollen, eyes a little puffy and your hand on his larger one around your throat with the most devilish smile across your pretty face. If it was even possible, Joel dived back into your lips with more roughness.
You started tugging at his belt as he devoured you, pressing his whole body against yours, making you overheat and feel dizzy. The sounds you were making seemed to turn him on more, his aggressiveness and movement speed increased whenever he felt your throat twitch under his palm.
To your disappointment, he let his hands go to aid you with his belt, but his lips stayed on yours. As soon as his belt hit the floor, however, he took his shirt off. He didn't even bother with opening the buttons and threw it over his head, tossing it to the floor. You gulped at how well built his body was, a few scars here and there and a decent amount of chest hair that followed a trail down his jeans.
Before you could faint at the sight, he immediately went back to kissing you; this time he moved to your cheek briefly and settled on your neck. A gasp left your lips involuntarily when he hit jackpot, sucking a hickey on your soft spot.
"Joel!" You hissed, or moaned, didn't matter- you pulled on his hair and stopped him. "No marks."
"Why not?"
Fuckingshitfuckfuckingdammit-
His tone was so seductive, so inviting that you couldn't fight him. The only reason you didn't want marks was simply because it was summer and you couldn't wear the layers of clothes and neckwear you wore in winter - it sure as shit was going to get questioned a lot and rumours spread around Jackson quicker than wildfire.
He didn't wait for your response of course and sunk his teeth into the crook of your neck, making you let out a rather pornographic moan. His naked body was on fire under your fingers, nails embedded themselves into his upper back when he sucked and licked on the spot he bit.
You wanted to scream out, tell him to bite you again, mark you everywhere and claim you as his, but as expected, you were too overwhelmed to utter a single word.
Joel then grabbed your thighs and pushed you up when you jumped. He trapped you between his hot body and cool wall, both sensations sent your body into a frenetic struggle, his soft lips nipping at your collarbones and large hands groping the backs of your thighs. You let go of him in order to remove your t-shirt with urgency, revealing your bra to him. He was quick to attack the tops of your breasts, sucking and biting there too. The bites weren't rough like he was trying to tear into your flesh, but there was just enough pressure to paint the skin purple.
You loved every fucking second.
"Fuck," You sighed, running your hands through his gray locks as he pulled your nipple out of the cup of the bra. "Oh..." The wetness of his tongue against your nipple made your brain short-circuit. "Oh, Joel-"
He grunted when you said his name, his cock pressing against your heat: "Yeah? You like this?"
"Fuck, so good-" You choked out when he spoke, nails digging at his shoulder and the back of his neck, making you squirm in his grip. After a moment, your other nipple was seen to the same treatment. You couldn't wait to see the rounds of teeth marks and bruises on yourself when you woke up in the morning.
Before he could do anything further, you tapped his shoulder and removed yourself from his hold, stepping on the ground with unstable legs- you immediately dropped onto your knees. The sight made Joel produce a sound between a grunt and a moan, his hand going to rest along the side of your face. He wanted to tell you that you didn't have to, but the way you eagerly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants kept him quiet.
You pulled his pants down, only to reveal his rather big erection straining against his boxers. The scene made you sigh, then look up when you grabbed him through his underwear; he leaned forward, pushing your back against the wall once more. He then pulled your hair oh so slowly into a ponytail and gathered it in one hand, then tugged your head back: "Don't tease me, girl."
If it weren't for your urgency to put him in your mouth, you would continue to tease him; his voice was dangerously low, threatening even, you wanted to see the outcome, but not today. You never broke eye contact when you smirked and pulled his boxers down, but you had to when his cock stood tall and proud inches away from your face.
You stared, eyes widening and mouth falling open (and quite possibly drooling at how big he was), Joel tsked at your expression: "Look at you, so eager for me."
You simply nodded, before licking the tip of his cock experimentally. He was, unsurprisingly, warm. His right hand clenched around your hair as he leaned the other against the wall. After running your tongue over his slit you finally took him in your mouth. A rough grunt vibrated in his chest and he threw his head back when you looked up, making you moan around him.
It was a struggle to fit all of him in your mouth, you saw it coming, but you forced your throat to relax so he could finally fuck it without further ado. After pulling back for a moment and taking a deep breath while working your hand on his length to cover for the loss of your mouth, you took him back in.
He hit the back of your throat, making you gag and instinctively pull back, but the hand on the back of your head stopped you and you moaned.
"Fuck-" Joel groaned and placed his other hand through your hair. He was slowly giving himself to the pleasure. You grabbed the sides of his thighs and braced yourself, letting him know that he can do whatever he wanted to. Thus, he started thrusting his hips with a slow but harsh pace. You did your best to relax your throat more and went as far as to brush your fingertips against his balls.
"Shit, (Y/N)," He hissed and picked up pace, the roughness easing up a bit. "That mouth- Gonna fuckin' ruin me-"
It was satisfying to know how much power you held over Joel Miller, but it was only a matter of time that he found out just how much power he held over you.
He pushed your head against the wall, anchoring you in place and gave you a moment to breathe, before searching your eyes for permission to absolutely ruin, or rather, destroy you - you just wanted him to fuck your mouth until you couldn't take it anymore (you were also sure that, even if it got to the point, you'd still beg for his cock down your throat).
He firmly pressed his hands to the back of your head to keep your head from hitting the wall and began thrusting his hips again. You had nowhere to run, he literally had you trapped and it turned you on so much.
His pace became rougher overtime and he began making you gag with each hit to the back of your throat. The noises were bringing him closer to climax and you were more than ready to have him spill his seed down your throat, but he seemed to have another idea.
A growl, gruttal, erupted from his throat and he pulled back at the same time. You panted, a thin line of saliva connected his cock to your lips and tears were gathered at the corners of your eyes, not to mention your throbbing pussy.
He groaned and held your chin in his palm, looking down at you while he breathed heavily. "So pretty down on your knees for me..."
You moaned when he leaned down to kiss you, not even thinking about the usual ew you just had my dick in your mouth I'm not gonna kiss you.
You sighed - What a man.
He was no boy, oh no. Joel was a man: Older, more experienced and was about to prove how he wasn't after just his own pleasure, that he also knew how to please his partner. He was also going to show how much your pleasure mattered to him and how much it turned him on to see you lose yourself in the euphoria.
He pulled his boxers up but stepped out of his pants which were pooled around his ankles, leaving his shoes with the bunch, then helped you up as he tasted himself on your tongue. He lifted you up again, making you wrap your legs around his waist while he carried you over to the table in your room. He carefully placed you on the hard, wooden surface and proceeded to take off your bra; you kissed his neck lightly as he did, which made him sigh into your hair. You then sucked a hickey right above his collarbone, which made him, quite literally, rip your bra off. You snickered at his reaction, taken aback by how harshly he threw your bra across the room. The gesture seemed to have awoken something primal within him: "What? You want another bite, sugar?"
You nodded, pushing your legs apart instinctively, your skirt doing a sinful job at covering you. He looked down to where you were inviting him, then looked back at you. Smirking, he lowered himself onto his knees: "I'm afraid I'll have to tend to the rest of your body another time, sweetheart."
You blinked and stared at him as he gently put your legs over his shoulders: "Another time?"
"Wouldn't you wanna... do this again?" He asked a little hesitantly.
"I..." Your dumbfounded expression stretched to an excited one, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'd love nothing more."
Joel smiled back, then turned his head to place a kiss on the inside of your right thigh after grunting: "Good."
You gasped at how good the scratch of his beard felt against the sensitive skin of your thigh. His kisses were wet and accompanied by occasional sucks here and there, until he bit down at the soft flesh.
"Joel- Ah, fuck," You tugged at his hair, but this time without the intentions of stopping him from marking you. You absolutely adored the way he knew exactly what he was doing and it was perfect.
He then followed the same path on your left thigh: Kisses, sucks and a bite on the exact same spot. You bucked your hips forward with a desperate, pathetic moan.
"What's that? You want somethin'?" Joel looked up into your eyes, slowly sneaking his hands up to entwine them with yours. "Speak up, darlin'."
The pet names were an ache both in your heart and pussy, so you spoke up, barely: "I need you Joel..."
The words made him stand up, your legs still over his broad shoulders. He leaned down, made your legs drop onto the crooks of his arms. He held them as he leaned further down until your noses almost touched, your legs and arms wrapping around his body: "Yeah? Tell me what you need baby."
"I need you to-" You stumbled on your words for a moment because, as much as you wanted to experience how it was like to have your pussy eaten by Joel Miller, you also needed his cock inside you - ASAP. "Fuck, Joel, I need your- your mouth-"
He interrupted you with a deep kiss, then pulled back and sat down on his knees once more, pulling your legs over his shoulders. You didn't stop a long and loud whine from leaving your throat when he pushed your panties aside and licked all the way from the source of your juices up to your clit. His hands had a hard grip around your hips, hopefully hard enough to leave marks.
"Joel..." You threw your head back lazily as he lapped at your juices. You put one hand on the back of his head while the other supported you to stand straight on the desk, your legs squeezing around his head lightly. It was the breaking point for you when he pushed your legs apart and pulled back, his beard glistening.
"Be a good girl and keep them pretty legs open for me."
Your jaw hit the ground, hard, and you felt your soul leaving your body right before he dived back into your folds. A silent scream hung on the edge of your mouth when he sucked your clit, the sticky noises making your legs tremble uncontrollably. You had a particularly hard time keeping your legs open, so when they closed around his head again, Joel swatted your inner thigh, making you jump up with a gasp.
He looked into your eyes, pulled back and spoke once more: "What did I just say?" You immediately opened up for him, spreading your thighs as far as you could, almost at a 150° angle. That didn't seem to be enough for him, however, so he grabbed your ankles and pulled you towards him until you were sitting at the edge of the desk: "Don't push it, girl. Repeat it."
"Okay!" You cried out when he bit down on your sensitive skin, harder than before, adding another mark right next to the first one. "I'll keep them open, I'll-"
He experimentally licked at your clit and with all the power and strength you could gather, you kept them open. After a moment, he pulled back, gently kissed the place he bit and said: "Good girl."
You couldn't do this anymore, you were so fucking devestated. It was so incredulous, too overwhelming, that you dropped yourself on your back and cried out. Half of Jackson must've heard that, if not your neighbour next door.
He started to kiss your thighs again, and between the kisses he spoke: "Look at you... So wet for me, so good for me." He sucked another hickey -you'd lost count at this point- closer to your pussy and growled. "You gettin' off to this, hm? Some old man eating your pretty little pussy up?"
He wasn't just some man, though. He was Joel Miller. It was Joel fucking Miller between your thighs, talking dirty to you, setting your cheeks, neck and the rest of your body on fire: "Yes, oh god yes-!"
Joel smirked when he realised he was finally getting to you, but hissed when he shifted and his painfully hard cock protested against his thighs. It was time to speed things up a little, even though he was really enjoying having you squirming under his tongue.
He calculated his next move for a moment, then slowly, pressed a finger inside you. However, he ended up retreating the digit when your legs snapped shut around his shoulders at the feel, and you realised the mistake you made a moment too late. You immediately stood up where you sat and he got up with you, clicking his tongue disapprovingly: "Alright, if you're not gonna be good and listen to me..."
He suddenly pulled you off the desk, carried you bridal style and climbed onto the bed with you in his arms. It all happened so fast you couldn't even process how you were suddenly sitting on the bed between Joel's legs. He settled down and leaned his back against the headboard, then pulled you flush into his chest: "Open up."
You did as he asked and as soon as you parted your legs, he planted his feet next to the insides of your calves, so that you couldn't close them. Your head dropped against his right shoulder and he was quick to pepper your neck with kisses again. His right hand sneaked down to your panties while his other hand kneaded your breast. You whined, eyes closed: "Joel..."
"That feel good, baby?" He whispered against the shell of your ear, then lightly nibbled on it.
"Yes, yes-" You spoke, feverish, then interrupted yourself with a moan once he inserted a finger inside you. You tried to move, but he immediately wrapped his hand around your throat and inserted a second finger.
"Oh no," He snickered, placing a mocking kiss on your cheek. "You don't get to have whatever you want, not after that show you pulled off." You wanted to respond, but his erection digging at your lower back and the fast come hither motions inside you making your legs tremble gave you a hard time multitasking. "You don't get to be all cute to me- then go kiss other boys. Oh, no you don't..."
You were overheating, malfunctioning and feeling dizzy, the familiar white hot pleasure tingling around the corner. You couldn't move- you could only sink your nails into the sides of his thighs as he fucked you with his thick fingers - two buried, pumping deep inside you and five of them around your throat did indescribable things to you.
"Where'd all that confidence go, huh?" He chuckled after he suddenly pulled out and you cried out, not speaking but physically begging to have him inside you. "You pissed me off a lot, you know- Fuck, n' I'm still givin' you what you ask for. You see what you do to me, sweetie?"
You nodded, a phantom of the word yes left your lips, then suddenly you pushed yourself impossibly closer to him when he re-entered with three fingers, stretching you so fucking good: "Oh Joel, please~"
He listened to you say his name over and over like a silent prayer as his fingers produced incredible pleasure and noises from between your legs. Each thrust of his fingers equaled a high-pitched gasp- he kept at it for another moment, bringing you closer and closer to your climax, then pulled out and unexpectedly squeezed the hand around your throat: "You think you deserve this, huh? After everything you did- Think you earned it?"
"N-No," You replied hesitantly, thrusting your hips forward as you did, which earned you a smack across your oversensitive thigh. "Fuck-!"
"Tsk," He shifted his hand upwards, turning your jaw more to the left so he could pepper your jaw with ghostly kisses. "I'm spoilin' you... Don't even know your place-"
"No, I do-" You switched tactics and tried begging verbally, but it earned you another smack, this time right on your pussy, which made you jump.
He cooed, rubbing your clit: "Who does this belong to, then?"
"You- To you," You gulped, breath hitching at the sensation, your bare shoulders tensing against his chest.
He smacked your pussy again, then asked: "Couldn't hear you, darlin'." As soon as you moaned another series of yous, he kissed your neck affectionately, then whispered: "Atta girl."
He took his time while he coaxed your orgasm out of you. A soft yet effective press of the pads of his fingers against your nerves and, with a series of profanities spilling from your mouth with moans, you came undone- saw the stars when he helped you through your orgasm and overstimulated you afterwards.
Boneless was one word to describe your state, melted was another. You were practically both, you couldn't even lift a finger when he removed himself from behind you and laid you down on the bed. The both of you were covered in sweat and panting, you almost missed the adoration in Joel's eyes when he brushed some hair away from your face. Your legs were still trembling, hickeys were showing their colours on your skin and he couldn't help but place the most gentle kiss on your lips, then replaced his mouth with his sticky fingers. He stood on his knees between your legs and extended his arm to your face: "Suck." You obeyed immediately, taking at first two, then three fingers into your mouth. You sucked and licked them, making Joel hiss: "We're not done yet."
"Good," You sighed, leaving his fingers with a wet sound and smirking at him wickedly. You wanted him to unload on you, punish you for misbehaving.
"You're a naughty girl, ain't ya?" He growled, snickering down at you as he removed your panties and threw them... somewhere. You nodded, regaining your energy, that bratty smile driving him crazy. "Get up. On all fours."
"And... What if I don't?" You smiled innocently at him, dragging your foot up the insides of his thighs. Clearly, your confidence started sprouting again and that needed to be taken care of. He stared into your eyes all the while, then hissed when your foot pressed against his clothed crotch.
Without saying another word, he suddenly grabbed your ankles, yanked you towards him and turned you around in a single second, making you yelp. He pressed his body on yours, putting his forearms next to your head and leaned in to your ear: "Oh, that's not how it works, princess." He placed a kiss behind your ear and pulled you up by your hips, pressing on the back of your neck so you stayed down while he raised your ass up, arching your back. Your skirt, once more, sinfully and barely covered your ass and Joel moaned at the sight, then yanked his underwear down, a hand ghosting over your ass: "I'm gonna make sure," He grunted as he pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, then traced it up and down, coating it with your juices. "That you forget your name after we're done." He started to push in, slowly as he didn't want to cause you any discomfort. "But you'll still remember who you belong to."
"Ah~" You moaned, grabbing his hips as he pushed in. The promise of having your insides rearranged sounded too good to be true, but there you were, Joel's cock inside you and making you lose your mind. He stopped when he finally had his cock completely buried in you. "You're so- So, oh- So big-"
"Hm? Does it feel good?" His voice strained as he did his best to wait for you to adjust.
"So good, Joel- Feels so fucking good," You were practically crying at that point, without tears that was. You noticed how his behaviour changed when you responded to him, when you behaved like his good girl.
"Yeah?" He began moving very slowly, eyes closed, struggling to keep his posture. "Good-" He groaned, then removed your hands from his thighs and brought them together behind your back. He took your wrists in one hand, pressed them against your waist and started fucking you. His hips snapped against your ass and the backs of your thighs, the noises that came out as a result were absolutely amazing.
His thrusts were precise: For someone who had a hard time controlling himself, he had incredible control over his body while he fucked you into the mattress, setting fire to your insides once more.
It wasn't long before he brought you to the edge again, bringing down a few smacks down your ass here and there, making you gasp and push your hips down on his cock. However, the start of your unravelling was triggered when he grabbed a fistful of your hair. He didn't yank on it, but he held your head off the pillows and made you cry out: "Fuck!"
"You like this, sweetheart?" He growled when you clenched around him. "So tight- Goddamn-"
You wish you could say you were embarrassed when you let out another high-pitched moan- a sound you didn't know you were capable of making. Suddenly he turned you around and pushed you on your back, grabbed your thighs, hooked them over his own, then sunk into you again. He didn't move, though, which made you look up with a devastated expression, only to find him snickering at you: "Look at you..."
You sighed, pushing yourself up and down, telling him to start moving, but a hand around your throat had you paralysed on spot: "So pretty with my cock in your tight little cunt." You moaned and gripped his biceps which looked delicious under the moonlight: "You want me to fuck you, huh baby?"
"Yes, yes Joel-" You nodded furiously, thighs trembling around his waist. He started rocking into you again, making you look into his eyes as he did.
"You wanna know what it feels like when a man makes you cum?" He gritted his teeth and picked up pace, going deeper.
"Yes!" Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, your juices leaking out of your pussy. "Please fuck me Joel-!"
You couldn't tell if it was a moan or a shout that came out of Joel's mouth (as well as yours), but it clearly had magical effects as you felt a second wave of orgasm wash over you. His hand around your throat joined the other on your hips, with a bruising grip that you already came to love.
He suddenly pulled out and a second later, had his seed spilling on your abdomen. He clearly waited for you to finish first, which made your heart do a few flips. He slowly lowered himself on top of you as he panted, a hand resting on the side of your head, caressing it gently. Your hand instinctively went through his hair and held him there, too shocked to actually say anything, legs trembling occasionally.
"Shit..." He finally sighed and dragged his head off your chest and looked into your eyes. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"
It took you second to process what he asked. You blinked and nodded, eyes glowing and beaming at him: "I'm okay- No, you didn't hurt me, I'm fine. I really..."
"What?" He offered a small smile and moved his hand onto your cheek, noticing how you were suddenly shying away. "You liked it?"
You nodded once more, smile turning mischievous: "I did." You then slowly pushed on his chest: "Very much..." His heart started beating faster the second his back met the mattress and you straddled his hips. The short amount of time it took your insides to start coiling with desire again excited you. Joel was about the same- A simple motion such as getting on top of him, rubbing your wetness on his skin almost immediately had his softening member fully hard again. "We're not done yet, are we?"
There wasn't any indication that you were taking over as far as Joel could tell, but after what you both did, you were full of surprises in his eyes: "No, we're not sweetheart." You flashed your teeth at him before taking him in hand and pumping him a few times, feeling him grow larger in your palm. He growled and grabbed your hips, then slammed you down on his cock, making you moan loudly: "Oh, we're not done, alright."
You put your hands on his chest to get some sort of support, but didn't move, expecting him to start thrusting up into you. He didn't, though, so you gave him a quizzical look. Before you could ask what was wrong, his hands slowly began moving down your thighs.
"Go on," He groaned. "Show me what you got."
Your brain, once again, short-circuited but Joel made sure to snap you back to reality- literally. He snapped his hips up and the force made you let out a short squeal, immediately putting you to work.
The moment you started rocking your hips back and forth, the grip he had on your thighs tightened. You purposefully put your arms closer together so that your breasts pressed against one another, and the noises you made with your skirt still around your waist - the sight made him throw his head back on the pillows and had a moan escaping his throat. You started moving faster, which made him hold your waist with one hand and smack your ass with the other, making you jump forwards.
"Such a good girl," He praised. "Fucking yourself on my cock like this-"
The dirty talk shot right through to your clit and your movements faltered, your thighs squeezing around his hips. Something feral and raw poked its head out from its hiding spot, hidden amongst your fantasies, so you picked up pace but not without grabbing his wrists and slamming them above his head, keeping them there as you rode him.
Joel was, once again, surprised at the sudden move, but he allowed you to chase your pleasure for a while. He closed his eyes and focused entirely on the motion of your hips and the tightness of your cunt.
It felt so good.
To finally have you for himself- it still came with a side of guilt, but he simply couldn't bring himself to care. You wanted this, you needed him and you told him, this wasn't some stupid dream or his late night thoughts: This was quite real.
Not for too long, though. He was almost lost in the pleasure when he noticed your hand going down to your clit.
Your cries came to an abrupt halt when he suddenly wriggled his hands out of your grasp and had one wrapped around your throat, the other holding the hand on your clit behind your back. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly: "So eager to cum, are you? To fuck me over, huh?"
"Yes," You moaned, even though you weren't sure what he truly meant by fucking him over. "Only you- Only for you-"
The words made Joel's hips thrust up, touching a new spot deep within you, then set a brutal pace. You could only hold onto his forearm below your throat as he fucked you and stimulated that spot.
"Who does this belong to?" He asked, pressing a thumb right onto your clit, bringing you to the very edge.
"You, Joel," Your now free hand pressed on his thumb to move it, but he was quick to swat your hand away.
"Who do you belong to?" He growled and lowered you closer to him.
"You- I belong to you," You whispered, tears rolling down your cheeks. "Please, l-let me cum..."
"Such a good girl, ain't you?" He kissed your cheek and picked up the brutal pace as if he hadn't stopped in the first place. You couldn't take it anymore, so you let go.
No one had made you come like Joel Miller did, thrice in the same night.
With a final gruttal groan, he thrusted his cock deep inside you and spilled his seed, the exhaustion and the feeling knocking you on your face on his chest. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, thrusted a few more times and went incredibly still, save for the panting.
"That was... so fucking good..." You breathed and made Joel's chest tremble with a brief laugh.
"Oh sugar," He placed an affectionate kiss on your forehead. "You're gonna be the death of me."
779 notes · View notes
starksinner · 3 years
Text
Rest
Summary: Charles takes care of you after a job goes terribly wrong.
Pairing: Charles Smith x Reader
Warnings: Heavy depictions of Violence, Blood, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Fluff, Implications of Sexual Harassment/Assault, Mention of Dissociation
Author's Note: I haven't written in what feels like a lifetime, so I apologize if this is a mess. Either way, the lack of Charles Smith fics across this website and others is downright a crime, so this is my "fine, I'll do it myself" moment. I hope I do some justice to (one of) the best characters in the Red Dead universe. I hope you enjoy reading, y'all!
AO3 Link
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The bruised grass of The Heartlands scrape against the skin of your ankles and calloused feet as you are led from the wide-open prairies into the privacy of an austere and diminutive forest.
The air is moist with remnants of rainfall. Petrichor and the scent of nature tickles your senses as your bare feet meet the soiled ground of the woods.
In your mind, loud and boisterous, rumbles an orchestra of deafening thunder and screaming. The pounding of your head originates from the open and festering wounds that continuously pulsate from the split skin of your sensitive scalp — seething and oozing.
Your hands tremble as they are softly caressed and held within the palms of another, the caring touch calming and guiding as you find yourself threatening to slip off the face of the Earth.
When Charles whispers your name, the most delicate reminder of your existence, you can’t help but whine and whimper pathetically. You force your eyes shut as you fester in a cloud of anger and pride, condemning your humanity and the fragility of your own body as a soaring pain runs up the curve of your torso.
You breathe heavily as you groan and peer down at Charles’ language of love: touch — his ethereal touch, displayed by the tender interconnection of his fingers with your own. A familiar scarlet liquid has crept and dried into the small crevices of your fingers, serving as a grisly reminder of the evening’s barbarous events.
“Men love underestimatin’ a woman in a frilly dress,” you splutter softly, the task of speaking suddenly foreign. “Used their idiocy t’my advantage, but I ain’t too sure the price was worth it.”
Charles gives you a look that reflects that of solemnity rather than one of silent derision. You, like many individuals whose identities cause them persecution, prefer to be given a look that serves as a reminder of the severity of a situation rather than a look of belittlement. That look — the one of silent derision — is well known to you as you’ve watched it be used by men as a means of reprimanding and reminding women of their weakness, naivete, and disorder of hysteria.
Charles wasn’t most men, though. Charles was fair, liberal, and wise — no matter how much he’d quietly argue with you over such labels. He admired and encouraged your strength, both in the physical and intellectual sense. Before you even understood your love for him, you had viewed him as a mystical wonder — an actual man among men. He never viewed you as lesser or judged you unjustly. He took you as you were — in all your strength and all your weakness, with all your stubbornness and all your recklessness.
“You were only protecting yourself,” he asserts calmly, his brown eyes observing yours. ”Those men were...savages. They would’ve killed us if you didn’t hurt them first.”
Like most situations that have transpired the past couple of months, Charles held his head and was right — you knew he was right.
Haphazardly, you grip onto Charles’ hands harder, willing off the tears of discomfort that blur your irises.
“I...I don’t know where my dress stops and where I begin,” you murmur, frowning as you see his features drop sadly.
A deep maroon, the dress you wear is tailored to attract the eyes of desperate men and curious travelers. The bodice is silk and accessorized with a corset that shapes and accentuates that of which men drool and desire. Now, the lengthy ruby material is ripped and caked in pools of dried blood and other human materials you dare not to think about.
Your arms, neck, and chest are redder than the dress, dried patches of red and brown mementos from your slain enemies. You crave ripping off your skin and ridding yourself of the deadly feeling and sight of your sins.
“Camp is right over the hills through here,” Charles notes, pressing his fingers lightly under your chin. “Close your eyes and just focus on your breathing. Let me carry you, love.”
You melt into his soft touch, your face scrunching in defeat as a loud sob escapes you. “I hate killing, Charles. I hate it and I hate myself for it. It was...me or them, I know. That man said he wanted me to...I just…”
“I know,” he whispers. Without any trouble, as if you were a mere pelican feather, Charles hooks his arm under your knees and holds you to his chest. He swiftly carries you through the woods and into the open plains, navigating his way back to Horseshoe Overlook. He gently coos and whispers into your ear sweet assurances as you cry justly. “Nearly there, love.”
---
You felt dissociated from your own body as Charles helped you strip out of your ruined dress, kissing, caressing, and whispering to you all the right things. He helped you wash yourself by a nearby lake, lathering your skin with soap and pressing soft kisses against any apparent scratches and blooming bruises.
What was supposed to be a quick con job just north of Valentine, turned into a full fledged bloodbath. Your role was a simple and tired one — dressed as a rich simpleton, you were to distract some revenue agents and pose as a woman found lost on her wary travels. Charles, the silent hunter, would rummage through the agents’ wagons in search of the lock box that you had on good authority was carrying a wealthy prize.
It was easy — a con that you’ve been participating in since your rebel days with Arthur, both of you incredibly spry and dramatic in your teen years.
Things took a drastic turn as you spotted a third wagon headed in Charles’ direction, just as you were chatting up and charming a lanky looking agent. In a last attempt at distraction, you placed your hand against the agent’s chest and began flirting with him, making his eyes wander to your red painted lips and nearly exposed chest.
Alas, the third wagon of revenue agents had spotted Charles — causing a boom of gunshots and shouts to echo across the plains. Your body immediately tensed until you spotted your love hiding behind a boulder, shooting off his Springfield Rifle into the growing crowd of agents. You acted on pure instinct as you swiftly reached under your skirt, gripping your knife, and slicing the throat of the agent in front of you. His blood splattered across your face as he choked, whined, and fell to the ground at your feet. You grabbed the Bolt Action Rifle from his dead grip and began firing into the agents around you, covering yourself behind one of the large wagons.
It wasn’t until you heard Charles struggle and shout that things took a gory route. He was fighting against a brawny agent that had pinned him to the ground, both men grunting and punching for dominance. You no longer considered your own wellbeing as you kicked off your shoes and sprinted towards him, shooting the agent straight in the head and another three of them as they screamed and barreled towards the both of you. You took hold of the left side of the field while Charles ran to another empty boulder and flanked the right. Both of you fought to pick off the pack of revenue agents that had seemingly swarmed the area, reloading your guns and bearing the pain of flesh wounds resulting from incoming bullets.
Just as you thought you were in the clear, the air was knocked straight out of your lungs as your head smashed against the side of the wagon and you were pushed, face first,  into the solid ground.
“You enjoy playing with guns, sweet thing?” The man on top of you grunted and gripped your neck as you thrashed and struggled below him. He dropped his knee against your lower spine, causing a mantra of curses to pass your lips as you promised death upon him.
“You got some mouth on you,” he groaned into your ear, holding you down harder as you continued to scream and fight beneath him. “I’m gonna take you in. Teach you how to kneel an’ please me good with my dick in your mouth, sweet thing.”
Suddenly, the commotion of gunshots leapt into a dreary silence, causing the man above you to turn his attention to the sudden absence of noise.
In your panic, you heard Charles scream your name.
With all your strength, you growled and practically bucked the agent off of you, reaching forward for your knife and whipping around to kick the man where it truly hurts the most.
The coward wailed on the ground and gripped his manhood, cursing you out as he shuffled backwards in fear. You spat and stalked towards him, your chest heaving and your eyes only seeing red. You pressed your right foot into the agent’s abdomen, hard, squatting down and positioning the tip of your blade near his chest.
“I hope hell burns extra hot for you, sweet thing.” You sneered at his visible fear and hurled the blade into the man’s chest — over and over, you plunged your knife into the agent’s body as blood poured from his mouth and he gaped at you with wide, dying eyes.
Blood poured from your scalp down to your face, your side screamed in agony, every inch of your skin was matted with blood that wasn’t your own — you stabbed until you physically felt the soul of the man beneath you leave his body.
That’s how Charles had found you, still and motionless, covered in blood and lost in your head as he called out for you and led you away from the strew of dead bodies.
---
“I need you,” you speak softly, breaking the night’s silence. You and Charles were under the protection of your tent: he’d been crafting poultice for your inflamed wounds while you’d been attempting to find pleasure in a bowl of Pearson’s stew. Your mind couldn’t stop racing and mulling over the day’s events.
You craved a distraction. You craved Charles.
“Charles?”
“Not tonight,” he murmurs. He speaks with an unwavering finality but with no anger, upset, or aggression. “You need rest. The both of us.”
You frown, like a child. “I just...I’m…”
“I know.” He places the cloth he was working with down and shuffles his way over to you, gripping the blanket by your feet and putting it over your body. He wordlessly noticed you had been shivering, wrapped only in your thin chemise. “When we’ve both recovered, we can share each other...It’s been a long day and I don’t want the love I have for you to pose as a distraction from the pain.”
You snuggle into his side, basking in his scent of ginseng and cedar, and nod against him. He was right, he was always right. “I...I love you, Charles. So, so much. You’re...everything and more to me.”
“And you to me.” He presses his lips against your temple, making sure not to touch the bandages against your scalp. He too takes in your scent, sprinkles of honey and peaches, a smell that proves to be his home and final landing.
He watches your eyelids flutter shut and lets you lay against your shared mattress, pressing a final day’s kiss against your warmed cheek. He is satisfied by your peaceful reflection. “I’ll wake you in the morning for coffee, my love. Get some rest now.”
Charles' sweet whispers are your last rememberings of the day as you drift off into a calming dreamland.
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smutsonian · 3 years
Note
Hey,since your writing is amazing can I request a fic where Steve thinks u cheated on him (probably with Bucky) and decides to punish u with rough sex and then he finds out he was mistaken and tries to make it up to u but you weren't having it because trust in a relationship is very important.So it kinda becomes smut+angst (The juicer the better) Thank u💞
mutual trust
steve rogers x reader
summary: you tell steve that without trust, your relationship would always have problems
warnings: smut, angst, jealousy, slight crack fic, ahh that’s it? Tell me if i missed something. Not proofread.
word count: 2.2k
a/n: i wrote two fics today how bout that? (I also cried to times so maybe that’s where I got the motivation and inspiration. Dont worry i cried because of a story and a movie) also, thank you nonnie!
masterlist
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“You have to tell him!” Steve hears your harsh whisper just behind the door. Who were you talking to? Why were you hiding? 
 “Why me? He’s your problem!” Steve is surprised to hear his best friend’s voice. He hears Bucky grunt in defeat before a sound made Steve’s heart stop.
“Oh god! That’s so good!” He hears your familiar moans and he wouldn’t believe the voices in his head if it weren’t for Bucky’s words.
 “God, doll! I don’t regret this at all!” Bucky lets out a moan as well before grunting in satisfaction.
Steve listens to your harmonized moans before he decided that he has had enough for it. 
 He’s going to show everyone that you’re his. He’s going to show you and he’s going to show Bucky.
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  “Oh god, I am so full!” You let out a cry before plopping on your belly on Bucky’s soft bed.
 “But I want more!” Bucky whines, licking the already clean spoon.
 You scoff at him before letting out a chuckle. 
 “How’d you think Sam will react after finding out that his tub of oh-so-delicious ice cream is gone?” You turn on your back before leaning on your elbows to look at Bucky.
 “He’s probably going to lose it. He’s a very dramatic guy.” Bucky rolls his eyes at the thought before sighing at your next words.
 “Well, too bad that you’ll be the one telling him.” You quickly stand, heading towards his door.
 “Doll, that’s unfair!” He whines once more.
 “Huh? Sorry, can’t hear ya! Gonna go to my lovely boyfriend now. See ya!” You quickly shut his door before prancing towards your shared room with Steve, your lovely boyfriend.
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  “Hey, Steviee…” You quickly walk towards your boyfriend before wrapping your hand around his neck and standing on your tippy-toes to place on his lips. He would usually return it with a kiss on your nose but what he did surprised you.
 His giant hand makes its way towards your neck and the next thing you know, you’re harshly pinned against the wall that Steve’s been staring at for hours.
 “S-Stevie?” Steve’s jaw clenches at the way your innocent eyes stared at him. He should’ve known that other men would want a piece of his girl. She’s too enchanting to be ignored.
 “You’re mine. You remember that, okay?” Steve asks, voice threatening but his frown softens a little when you nod at him.
 “Good girl…” He whispers before slamming his lips on yours, tongue forcing their way into you and lapping at your helpless tongue.
 “You belong to me as much as I belong to you, I know you know that…” He grins when you start whimpering against his lips. The hand on your neck tightens slightly while his other hand finds its way up to your skirt and under your soaking panties.
 “Ahh… Is this for me?” Steve asks. 
 “This is for me, right? Not for someone else?” His voice becomes harsher and he forcefully inserts a finger and then another, prying answers from you. He needed you to assure him. He needed to know that you’re wet for him and not his best friend.
 “Y-yes, Stevie! Only you!” Your eyes roll at the sensation of Steve’s fingers and before you could even find release, his hand was pulled out of you.
 “W-What?” You yelp when you’re harshly turned, your chest pressing against the wall while Steve’s hand is now on the back of your neck while the other is rashly pulling his pants off.
 “Want you to feel all of me…” He whispers and before you know it, his cock is piercing through you without end until his full length is inside of you. Your body is trembling but Steve’s body is holding you up against the wall so you wouldn’t fall.
 “You feel me, baby? You feel me deep inside you?” His hand snakes toward your stomach, whimpering and moaning when he pushes on it to feel himself against your skin.
 “So good for me, baby… So perfect for me…” He whispers beside your ear before placing a kiss on your neck and sucking on it like his life depended on it.
 “STEVE!” You scream as he started thrusting into you harshly, making your toes curl in ecstasy. 
 “Oh my god, YES!” Your body continues to rub the wall as he continues to pistol into you but you didn’t care because right now, Steve is making you feel so good. He’s owning you and you’re liking it. He’s never usually rough but now… Now that you’ve tasted it, you didn’t know if you wanted soft Stevie back.
“You’re going to cum for me?” The hand on the nape of your neck snakes to the front so he was pulling your body against his while his other finds your clit, encouraging you to cum around his cock.
 “I can feel your greedy pussy pulsing around my cock, baby. Come on… Cum for me, baby… Milk my fucking cock…” He ruts into you a few more times before you’re crying out loud… and he’s crying out loud… You’re pretty sure that everyone in the compound can hear you but you didn’t care.
 You’re too busy feeling Steve’s liquid filling your stomach.
 “You’re mine, baby… He’ll see. Everyone will see…” He presses a kiss on your forehead as your hooded and tired eyes fluttered shut. He catches you when you pass out, your body limp in his arms as he carried you to bed. Washing you with care as if you’re the most important thing in the world. 
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  You wake up feeling sore down there and on your neck but the memories of last night made you smile. Steve really just did that.
 But then you remember Sam’s ice cream and suddenly the smile left your face but a devious one replaces it. What drama will Sam put on now? 
 Feeling a little bad for letting Bucky tell Sam alone, you quickly cleaned yourself up before power walking towards the kitchen where they would probably eating breakfast.
 Your heart started thudding louder at the grunts and the sound of punches being thrown. Sam must’ve been really wanting to eat that ice cream for him to attack Bucky…
 But when you reached the kitchen, it was a scene that you didn’t expect to see. Sam was holding Steve back from getting another blow onto Bucky’s bloody face.
 “S-Stevie?” Your voice makes Steve turn his attention from Bucky to you. His glare turns into a smirk before he shrugs Sam off. He walks towards you before kissing you the same way he did last night. With possession. 
 “Stevie… What’s wrong?” You whisper after pulling away from him.
 He wraps an arm around you before pulling you closer to him. He fixes your hair so the marks he left last night is in full view for anyone, more importantly, for Bucky.
 Bucky scoffs before shaking his head at Steve.
 “You’ve got it all wrong, punk. You have to start listening before things start to get messy for you. You’re starting something you don’t wanna start--”
 “And what is that. Bucky?! You’re the one starting shit here. You’re touching something that’s not yours!”
 “For fuck’s sake, Steve! I’m not fucking your girl!” Bucky’s words made the room quiet, only Steve’s heavy breathing could be heard.
 “W-what are you talking about? Bucky? Steve?” You look at Bucky and Steve in confusion.
 “Steve’s saying that I’m making you cheat on him,” Bucky said with a glare towards his best friend.
 “Wh-Why would you think that, Steve?” Steve’s heart skips a beat at the lack of his nickname on your words.
 “I heard everything yesterday. Y-You… He was moaning in his room with you...” Steve explained and was answered by Bucky’s unamused laugh.
 “Oh, right! We were moaning about how good Sam’s ice cream was. We were deciding who’s going to tell Sam but I guess that’s out of our worries now, ain’t it, doll?” Bucky gives you a faux smile before turning back to a surprised Steve.
 “Wait… You ate my…” Sam opened the fridge and it looked like he was about to say something but he shook his head. 
 “Not the time, Sam… This is not the time…” He tells himself before looking back at the three of you.
 “Well, it’s all just a misunderstanding… We can all just forget about it and--” He was cut off by your big movements. You pried Steve’s arm away from you as you stepped back with a look on your face. Whatever it was, Steve didn’t like it.
 “Y-you think I’m cheating on you? But you just… Last night…” Your eyes widened in realization and Steve shook his head immediately, knowing what you’re thinking.
 “I can’t believe you! W-What were you trying to accomplish, Steve?! You did all that just to prove a point?! And there I thought you were actually doing it for me, you asshole!” You cried before turning towards Bucky. 
 “I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess. I didn’t know that I wasn’t allowed to enjoy some time with my friends.” You sob before turning towards Sam.
 “I’ll replace your ice cream, Sam… I’m sorry as well…” The guys watch as you let out a tired sigh while Steve tried to reach for you.
 “Baby… It’s not like that! I-I did it for you! For us!” Steve pulled you into a hug, refusing to let you go. Refusing to let you walk out of his life.
 Sam gave Bucky a look and then they walked out of the kitchen, giving you and Steve some privacy.
 “You don’t trust me enough that you’d think I’d cheat on you?” Your voice was broken and Steve’s heart couldn’t bear it.
 “No! I mean, yes… I trust you, baby! I just don’t trust Bucky with you! I don’t trust anyone with you! People would do anything to take you away from me and, and--”
 “And you don’t trust me enough that you think that I’ll let them take me away from you? Do I make you feel like that? Am I doing things that make you think that I’ll do that to you?” You cry as he shakes his head.
 “No, baby… It’s just me being… me. I’m being ridiculous, I’m sorry. There’s no excuse for being an asshole. Please, forgive me.”
 “You don’t trust me, Steve. There will always be a problem if you don’t trust me, Steve….” Your voice started to become dismissive and it scared Steve endlessly.
 “I-I know… I know, baby… I’ll be better. Please. I trust you. I fucking do! I’m just scared, okay? I don’t want anyone taking you away from me. It’s not just Bucky, okay… That was a mistake. I know you two would never do anything like that. There’s just always a threat when I’m around and I don’t trust myself to be able to protect you all the time. I love you too much and I can’t afford to lose you, okay? Baby, I fucking love you too much…” He starts to cry as well, his hold on you becoming tighter and desperate.
 “You have to start trusting me, Steve… I know what I’m getting into and I won’t let anything happen to me, to you, or to anyone else here. You have to start trusting me, Stevie. If we want this to work, you’ll have to trust me…”
 Steve eagerly nodded, his chin hitting your head slightly, finally glad to hear that nickname again.
 “I promise. I fucking promise. I’m sorry for being a fucking asshole. There’s no excuse and I will forever be making up for it.” He pulls away to look at your face, slightly feeling better at the now loving look on your face.
 “I’m just hoping that you trust me enough to give me a second chance…” He tilts his head to the side, smiling sadly yet cheekily at you.
 “That’s the thing, Stevie…” You sighed exasperatedly as you looked down at the floor.
 Steve’s heart shattered at the action. Were you going to deny him? Leave him?
 His heart stopped when you turn to look at him with a teasing smile.
 “I’ve always trusted you. Until now, I trust you with my life and my heart but please… For the love of Sam’s delicious ice creams…. Would you please just trust me? Trust your friends… Not everyone is out to do you wrong, Stevie…” You smile at him before letting him pull you back in his arms, your arms wrapping around his big frame.
 “Thank you. And do trust you, baby. I promise to not be a coward anymore…” He chuckles before kissing the top of your head, whispering endless thanks for taking him back.
 “You won’t regret it…” Steve whispered.
 “Yeah, but she’ll regret eating my ice cream!” Sam’s voice was heard followed by an ‘ow’ when Bucky slaps his head.
 “Glad to have you back, punk.” He grins at Steve as Steve smiles at him apologetically. 
 “Sorry…” Steve whispers as they too shared a hug.
 “Just treat your girl right, punk.” Bucky smiles at Steve then at you.
 “I will,” Steve replied assuringly before pulling you closer to him. He’ll do anything and everything for you.
---
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grind-pantera · 4 years
Text
Checkered Boards. [ Benny Watts Oneshot.]
I GOTTA DO EVERYTHING MYSELF AND THAT INCLUDES WRITING FICS FOR MYSELF. If you haven’t seen the Queen’s Gambit on Netflix, I totally suggest. Likes and reblogs are totally appreciated. thanks guys! - Miss Em. 
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Title: Checkered Board. Pairing: Implied! Benny Watts x Reader. Words: 1, 149.  Rating: K. just some flirty happenings.
-=-
Your eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as a beam of sunlight came in through the high windows of the hotel lobby. Despite it being sunny it was rather frigid and your blush-striked cheeks surely told of this as you had only stepped inside a few moments ago. Drawing a deep breath in, you felt strangely at home despite being hundreds of miles from it. There was nothing like the smell of a hotel; clean, perhaps too clean but that was never a bad thing, friendly as the faces that you passed on the way to the front desk were smiling with their mouths or with their eyes as an actual smile seemed too friendly to some. Checkered patterns caught your eye to the right. Someone had placed their packed up Chess set on the front desk as they were asked to confirm their identity to get their room. Once you saw that all too familiar pattern, it was spotting up everywhere. There were a few men to the left at a small table, one smoking while the other’s gaze was completely fixated by the board in front of them, deducing, crunching moves within their head before their fingers grasped a pawn and moved. You seemed mesmerized by the board, by the off white and black color of the squares before a voice behind you caught your attention.
“You gonna check in or are ya waiting for---” That voice. That slight Eastern accent that at times seemed a little too good to be true while at other times seemed to fade into oblivion. “(Name).” 
The tone fell slightly flat as he came to a realization. You had only turned your head ever so slightly, not figuring that this person was going to be able to identify you from merely your profile. But, you should have known better. A person who stares at a Chess board all day and loves it no doubt would be able to pick out such details about someone else's face, especially if this someone else had been face to face with him previously. Multiple times. Professionally and to your displeasure as of six months ago, personally.
How foolish, the dirty blond thought to himself, that he didn't recognize you from behind. You did hold yourself in a certain way that was like gravity at times that left him shaking mentally when your fingers would brush against one of his Chess pieces during a game. He shut his eyes and shook his head, repeating once again, “(Name).”
Sighing, you turned towards him completely, plastering a faux smile that he read right through, giving off a shit-eating grin in return. “Didn't expect to see you here---”
“It’s the US Open, Benny.” You murmured, suppressing the need to roll your eyes. His eyebrows rose almost comically at your blunt and straightforward statement.
 Of course it was the US Open. “Just didn't expect to see you, is all. After our last encounter, I was pretty sure you’d fallen off the face of the Earth.” Tilting your lips into an actual smile this time, you clutched your leather suitcase a bit tighter and snipped at him, “When I threatened to shove every pawn of yours up your---” “That’s the time.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Benny boy. I won’t quit Chess until your face is under my foot in defeat.”
“You should know better,” The tall, lanky man swiveled around and stood between you and the front desk, now altering your only out from the conversation. Groaning internally, you looked up at him, his dark eyes staring right back through a wash of eyelashes. “Going into games angry ain’t gonna get you anywhere.”
“Going into games as a flirt...” You retorted and shoved him aside. Fingertips brushed against the silver necklaces around his neck and it took all your willpower not to react to how it felt. Cold… Smooth... “also won’t get you anywhere.”
He held up his finger, “That was only with you and we weren’t even playing.”
Your face fell, mouth opening almost out of offense. 
“You know what I mean. We… weren’t playing in a tournament.” Scoffing, Benny watched intently as you began checking in, handing the front desk attendant your ID for verification. She smiled at you, checked the records before resting your room key on the desk. Grinning, you turned towards Benny.
“We were playing for something a little more intimate, don’t you think?” “Depends what you think is intimate,” Benny said softly, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans. You glanced down for a second and rolled your eyes again. He wasn’t gaudy. Well, maybe a little bit. Gaudy or confident, but those two things liked to go hand in hand sometimes. “A kiss… is well…”
“Depends,” You repeated his own phrase, picking up your key and scooting away from the desk at a slow pace. How you managed to walk, how your feet picked themselves up was miraculous especially when he followed you. “A kiss can be just a kiss unless there’s more behind it.”
His lips parted as you began trailing up the stairs, getting three steps in as he stayed on the ground level. It seemed like a romantic pose and the question that Benny inquired was uncharacteristic for his cocky attitude. He knew everything, his moves seemed calculated so why did he ask you… “Was there more from me or more from you?”
Tilting your head to the side, you smiled more or less to yourself before turning towards him and dropping down one step so you were nearly face to face. “Take a deep breath.” You whispered to him, “And ask yourself that again. Pretty sure you’ll answer for yourself.”
“There was more from you.”
Even though there was space between the two of you, you could feel your breath hitch in your throat, the mere audacity of that statement leaving you breathless and slightly choked. He was wrong. Benny was rarely so but you knew this confidently. The way that his hands held onto your face, the way that he leaned inwards, the way that his lips formed one sentence. Take a deep breath.“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Benny.” You muttered, turning on the stairs and trailing upwards.
He was left speechless, watching you ascend without quarrel. He fumbled, his hands rolling into balls before relaxing. He stepped upwards once, then twice. Then a couple steps at a time before grabbing your arm. You clenched your jaw, looking at the hand he had on your body. “What-” “Let’s play.”
“For what?” “For who had more in that kiss.” You turned towards him, swallowing hard as you noticed just how close he was and how it must have looked like to others as they went up and down the stairs around you as he had stopped you right in the middle. “Who had more. You or me?”
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