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doromoni · 19 days

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After Lunch Snacks | LN4

Part 2 of Lunch Preferences

Ships : Lando Norris x Personal Chef! Reader , Platonic! Oscar Piastri x Personal Chef! Reader

Genre : Fluff

Summary : Now that you knew Lando’s lunch preferences, it’s time to explore what’s for dessert.

A/N : I delivered on my promise for a part 2! 🫶 @smoothoperator-forever700 @same1995

Part 1.

It was universally acknowledged that Lando Norris had the palette of a 5-year-old. Always opting for the safety and comfort of spring rolls and chicken nuggets.

That is why the whole paddock had been led to a shock when Lando had admitted in an interview that he had been exploring a whole lot more options in terms of food. Why? Because he wanted to make his girlfriend, Y/N L/N happy.

* Fish Tacos

Lando and the other drivers are now gathered for the driver’s parade. The drivers might deny it, but they secretly loved doing this before the races, as this allowed them to catch up on each other’s lives.

“You ate fish? No , I don’t believe you” Carlos’ disbelief was instant — their sushi-eating fiasco immediately came to mind.

“It’s true mate! I ate Fish tacos.” Lando bragged smugly to the Spaniard.

“What’s true?” Max then joined the conversation.

“Lando said that he ate fish” Carlos mimicked what Lando said to the Dutch driver.

“Bullshit, I doubt it” Max sniggered, shaking his head.

“It’s true! Y/N cooked something for date night. “ Lando explained

“Did Y/N shove it down your throat or something?” Max asked skeptically

“WHAT? NO! But I did eat it by mistake …. I ate her meal instead of mine, so in a way it was not intentional ” As Lando continued to yap, the 2 older drivers couldn’t help but laugh. They were right to assume that Lando would not eat fish willingly when he couldn't help it.

“But when you knew that it was fish, you stopped eating? What did Y/N say?” Carlos couldn’t help but ask, finding the situation funny.

“I finished everything, Mate. It was that good! I think I could eat anything Y/N cooks” Lando implored, now a soft smile present on the Brit’s face as he remembered his girlfriend.

“Mate, you’re whipped” Max teased

“ I mean, if your girlfriend is that pretty, caring, funny, and can make stroopwaffles anytime, anywhere — you would be too” Lando rebutted with pride.

* Ube Cake

“Thank you for baking, Y/N. Lily has been craving your ube cake for a while, she’ll be so happy for this!” Oscar said happily, as he dug into his slice of cake. This boy used his girlfriend as an excuse when you know for a fact that he was the one obsessed.

You and Osc are in the McLaren Kitchen, it was just after qualifying and the two McLaren drivers had both done excellently. And when your Aussie friend had begged you to bake the cake that you brought to the f2 paddock before— you really couldn’t say no.

“ Y/N? Babe, are you in the kitchen? “ You suddenly hear your boyfriend’s voice coming at a distance.

“Yup, I’m in the kitchen with Oscar” you hollered back to Lando, as you continued to slice the cake. But stopped when Osc tapped your hand, catching your attention.

“I’ll give you a thousand bucks, Lando won’t eat this when you offer him a slice” Oscar suddenly wagered to you as you saw Lando enter the room.

“You’re on Piastri, be ready to pay up!” You whispered hastily to the Australian. And you quickly schooled your facial expressions.

“Hi babe! Congratulations on qualifying. You did amazing, I’m so proud of you” You beamed up at Lando as he side-hugged you and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, baby! I love you“ Land cooed at you as he pressed his lips to yours.

“You two are gross, I regret allowing this” Oscar wagged his fork between Yau and Lando in disgust at your display of affection.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, your arms finding their way to Lando’s waist.

“Oh shush it, Ohscah. No cake for you “ you tutted as you tried to pry the sweet treat away from the Australian.

“I'm joking! You and Lando are perfect together. your future babies will be beautiful and then you’ll live perfectly happy lives .” the Younger papaya driver said in haste as he held his cake closer.

“Flattery can only do so much. Piastri “ You said and Lando sneakered.

“Ohh, cake? Why is it purple though? “ Lando asked in both curiosity and a little bit of distrust.

You and Oscar meet eyes and the bet was absolutely on.

“ You want to try a bite, babe? “ You asked your boyfriend, slowly pushing a clean fork and a new slice to his side.

“What is it though?” Lando pressed but was now holding a fork and was closely inspecting the treat.

Oscar not sitting idly, and not wanting to lose 1000 dollars. Egged on Lando’s skepticism.

“You probably wouldn’t even like it. It’s made from potatoes” Oscar said looking so innocently.

You glared at your bestfriend.

“No, it’s not made from potatoes. It’s from the ube yam. I believe it’s from the Philippines. Remember the Adobo and the fried chicken from Jollibee we ate last month, this came from the same country. You tried to persuade the British driver.

“OH! I loved those. Alright, let me have a bite of this” Lando then took the fork and dug in.

“And you owe me a 1000, Oscy - wosky,” You said as you jumped in success.

“What? You bet on me?” Your boyfriend, who had icing all over his mouth asked, both betrayed and attracted by your actions.

“You bet we did, Babe. And I just won a 1000 “ you cheered kissing his cheek.

While Oscar couldn’t care less, he was just eating happily on the side.

* Paddock famous brownies

“I’m sorry , my girlfriend texted. What’s the question again?” Lando smiled broadly to the interviewer.

“Oh? What did she say?” The interviewer perked up at the mention of the british driver’s girlfriend. She had been a paddock favorite eversince she had been feeding everyone who had the pleasure of meeting her.

“She baked her brownies!” Lando cheered

And as he said that several hollers from drivers were heard from behind the camera .

“ Yo, Lando! I want one”

“Hey~ Landino , you promised me a piece last time!”

“Oi Lando , Y/N said that she baked that for us! “

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redflagshipwriter · 2 months

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Check Yes (to go on a date with a dead guy) chapter 5 progress

“Hey!” Duke hollered, as soon as Jason put the key in his door. “Welcome back, loser!”

Danny huffed out a laugh.

“Hey yourself,” Jason called out, holding the door open and making sure Danny got in before he closed it behind them. “Scruffy little brother, this is Danny. Danny, this is Duke.”

“Wait, what?” Duke skidded into the room on socked feet, eyes wide and mouth grinning in confused delight. “I didn't know you had any friends!”

“Oh, we're not friends,” Danny reassured him easily, missing Jason's scowl. “Just dating. So there's still no proof that he has friends.” He winked obnoxiously.

Jason could see the moment Duke shut down and rebooted twice as excited.

Christ. He quietly cursed to himself and ducked his head to hide the burning in his cheeks as Danny bounced over to hold his hand out. He was never beating the allegations of favoritism after this, Jason sighed.

Danny was a little sun spot when he chirped, “Nice to meet you, I hear you're the generous distributor of games?”

“Yeah, that request makes sooo much more sense now.” Duke met Danny's hand with a friendly slap and then went in for a hug. Jason cringed at the familiarity- but apparently it was the right move. Danny went for it, backslapping Duke amiably. They separated. Danny thoughtfully held Duke at a distance, hands on his shoulders.

“I see. So, you're my true opponent?” At Duke's nod, Danny smiled with a few too many teeth. He leaned in to hold intense eye contact. “Gonna kick your ass,” Danny vowed.

“You can try, old man,” Duke shot back. They separated with grins. “I’ll set up. Jason, your taste is so much better than I thought it would be.”

Jason made an offended noise. “Wait, what?”

Duke gestured at him with one lazy hand as he unlatched the top of his backpack and started withdrawing games. “I figured you would exclusively date super serious tough types.”

“... I'm tough,” Danny said morosely.

Jason resisted the urge to cackle. He didn't disbelieve it at all! Size wasn't everything. But the uh, the big baby eyes and slumping shoulders really weren't selling the toughness.

Duke shrugged, brutal and unconcerned with the damage he was leaving in his wake. “I was thinking more like a forensic accountant who collects rocks and cage fights literally just for the fitness benefits.”

Jason took a moment to consider that theoretical accountant. He would date that person. They sounded well rounded. It was a sensible career, a chill hobby, and a reasonably active lifestyle. What was wrong with that? He frowned to himself. What was Duke even implying??

“I would date that accountant,” Danny reluctantly admitted. He seemed disgruntled about it. “I don't cage fight, sorry to disappoint. You can't imagine how much my sister would kill me if I tried.”

“It's fine,” Jason reassured, making a mental note of a sister and the potential for quantifiable subsequent deaths. “Me either.”

He could, though. He thought about it for a moment. He'd kick so much ass. That would be a fun way to give Bruce a heart attack.

Duke snorted, but thankfully said nothing else. Jason didn't want to hear what Duke thought about his odds in cage fighting. Jason knew what was in his heart and that it was fighting potential.

The game Duke and Danny settled on was a multiplayer racing game. Jason dutifully tried. His car bounced along and beat out all but one of the computer's characters. He endured two rounds before he bowed out and leaned back to watch the other two trash talk each other.

Honestly, these games were repetitive and pretty boring. Jason zoned out and stretched. He was laying his arm along the back of the couch before he realized that was a bad idea.

He froze, forearm just barely brushing against the back of Danny's neck. Danny… didn't seem to care.

Well. Jason let his arm relax. It was only weird if Danny thought it was weird.

Duke glanced over out of the corner of his eye and gave Jason a cat-faced smirk. Jason raised his hand just enough to show off his favorite finger.

“Hey, gimme a min?” Duke said. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Liar. Sneaking liar, Jason thought fondly. He was going to try to spy and see what they did when he left the room.

Danny hit the pause button and let the controller drop to the sofa. “Yeah, go piss girl,” he drawled.

Jason cocked his head to the side in confusion.

Duke just laughed, so that must have been some kind of reference. He clambered over the back of the sofa and gave Danny's shoulders a light push on his way past.

Danny went with the motion and bumped into Jason with a giggle. Jason endured it patiently, bemused but enjoying that they were both happy.

The bathroom door shut behind Duke.

Danny leaned further into Jason and contorted his neck at a frankly precarious angle to look up at him. “Are you having fun?” He checked. Danny's ear brushed against Jason's chest in a way that he was hyper aware of. There was line of concern between his eyebrows that Jason kinda wanted to smooth away with a thumb.

#red check yes #dp x dc #dc x dp #dead on main #dc fanfic

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empresskylo · 9 months

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beneath the mask ✩ chapter 1

➠ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠ SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠ CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. wc 2.5k. ➠ AUTHOR'S NOTE | ayyoo, so i had an idea for a series with ghost with lots of angst and i finally wrote the first chapter. so let me know if you like it and if i should continue. it looks like it will be around 10 or so chapters. its a slow burn and will be a lil dark. okay, enjoy! feedback appreciated!

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

you adjusted the strap to your med bag, shuffling as quickly as you could down the hallway, dodging tipped over medical trays and beds shoved haphazardly in the aisle. the lights above you flickered as you scurried in the direction of the hollering voices, the rumble of gunfire shooting off in the distance like fireworks.

you burst into what you suspected was once the hospital's lobby, debris and paper scattered everywhere, jumping over chunks of stone from the wall.

“sergeant,” a deep voice called to you. you looked over at captain price and darted in his direction. before him sat a large body, a man who intimidated the fuck out of you. you were lucky you were strung out on adrenaline or you might have been too nervous to do your job properly.

“it’s ghost,” price said, his hand firmly placed on the man’s abdomen, a blood soaked cloth beneath it.

you slid down to your knees and chucked your med bag beside you and started digging around. “what happened?”

“got fuckin’ shot, the hells it look like,” the grumpy asshole, who should be a lot nicer to the woman saving his life, said.

you rolled your eyes and dug out a clean linen, replacing the one price was using. “hold,” you instructed him. normally you were a bit shy around the men, especially your superiors, but in moments of panic, you functioned at your best.

it didn’t take you long to disinfect and pry the bullet out of ghosts abdomen, taping the wound shut with medical glue and wrapping it in gauze. it took you all of 4 minutes. and you only thought about the fact that your hand was on ghost’s exposed skin a few times.

“and that’s why you’re the best,” price chuckled, slapping a hand on your shoulder.

you gave him a weak smile, wiping away the sweat that was forming on your forehead. the adrenaline was starting to subside, your nerves creeping up on you.

a loud shout and the sounds of rifles going off sounded in the distance. ghost and price glanced at each other. “go,” ghost urged.

price nodded before leaving you alone with ghost, who seemed more than upset over the fact that he was now dead weight. you wanted to tell him he was an asset to the team and they wanted him whole instead of trying to fight at half efficiency. but you figured he already knew as much.

you rubbed your hands on your pants before pointing at ghost. “you—uhm—got blood all over your mask.”

ghost grunted, trying to stand up.

“wait, let me help you.”

he ignored you, using the wall behind him to push up. stubborn bastard.

“ghost! if you rip out the perfectly good work i just did, i swear to god!”

he looked at you surprised, as if hearing you shout was the most startling thing in the world, and halted all movement until you slid beneath him and helped him stand. his arm rested across your shoulder as you stood in sync with him. you tried to ignore the burning sensation you got from the contact.

“didn’t know you could get that loud,” he mocked.

you squeezed your lips together; your mask that sat slouched around your neck suddenly felt suffocating.

as ghost leaned back against the wall, catching his breath, you put your hands nervously on your hips. “you should let me check…” you hesitated, pointing at your own face to let him know you wanted to see if he was bleeding under his mask.

“no,” he said sternly.

“ghost, i—“

“it’s not my blood. nothin’ to check, then.”

“nothin’ to check, then,” you repeated quietly, slightly irritated. you knew good and well that he was lying. he had no idea if it was his blood or someone else’s that soaked the white skull on his mask.

“what?” he asked, causing you to snap your eyes away. shit, you were staring.

“you ever let anyone see what’s under there?” you asked timidly, making it sound like he had something wildly inappropriate hidden beneath his mask.

“price,” he said chastely, clearly thinking there was a time and place for everything, and the battlefield was not said place.

“oh.” after a beat. “why?”

before ghost could retort, soap came storming in. “we gotta go.” he must have talked to price because he came rushing to ghost’s side to help him walk, already aware of the extent of ghost’s injuries.

you followed as the three of you hustled out of the decrepit hospital. another beautiful building lost to the brutality of warfare, you thought sullenly.

when you were safe on the humvee, you shifted your bag awkwardly on top of your lap, ghost’s large presence taking up almost all of your personal space. you tried not to think about the way your thighs touched his.

it made sense, ghost was hurt, so of course he’d sit next to the medic, but still, your heart raced rapidly in your chest as if he purposely chose to sit next to you for other reasons. you tried to shut your brain up by closing your eyes.

the vehicle went over a bump, sending you sliding against ghost’s side. “s-sorry,” you muttered, your eyes springing open, and you hurriedly pushed away from him.

he didn’t even look down at you, his eyes glued to whatever it was he was staring at straight ahead.

he was infuriatingly difficult to read. his eyes might have been expressive, but they only ever looked some various level of pissed off. but you knew there was more to him than that. you had seen the way he spoke to soap. there was a human beneath the artificial exterior that was ghost.

the road was seemingly filled with dips and crags because the back end of the vehicle kept bumping and shifting. you opened your legs slightly so you could hold on to the seat between them to prevent you from slamming into ghost and the soldier on the other side of you.

ghost must have been annoyed at the way you continuously jostled around with every shift of the humvee because when the car rattled through a particularly big pothole, his muscled arm outstretched across your chest, stopping you from flying forward.

you felt your face heat, utterly embarrassed. all these men around you were so much taller and properly built. you, on the other hand, stood a good foot below ghost, it was no wonder you were easy to slide around the vehicle. ghost was weighted in place by muscle. seat belts would have been a smart addition, you thought.

it was in your nature to want to thank ghost, but when you spared a glance up at him, his head was shifted in the complete opposite direction. as the road transformed to smoother terrain, his arm fell back to his side as if nothing had happened.

you wouldn’t lie, the fact that you were supposed to be the one caring for ghost, the bullet wound in his side and all, made you feel small and inferior when he had to hold you down. it probably hurt him to life his arm like that too, though he would never admit it.

when you got back to base, you changed and showered before anyone could find you and drag you into doing something you didn’t want to do, stealing you away from your time to rest. and as if you willed it just from that thought, one of your teammates grabbed your shoulder as you walked passed the infirmary.

“hey! can you cover for me? smith is out and i was supposed to have my dinner break an hour ago.”

your fellow medic looked at you with puppy dog eyes, playfully steepling their hands to beg.

“fine,” you said with mock irritation.

“ah, thanks! you’re a lifesaver.” you followed him into the dimly lit infirmary. “i was just about to rebandage the lieutenant up,” he said.

you froze. “wait, we got back an hour ago, why hasn’t he been rebandaged yet?”

your teammate glanced at you as he grabbed his things. “l.t. was busy debriefing with price. said that was more important.” he shrugged then hurried out of the room before you could say more.

shit shit shit.

no, this is fine. stop overreacting, you told yourself. you can handle facing ghost again. granted, the first time you were doped up on adrenaline. now, you weren’t so sure you’d be able to keep a steady hand.

you never had any real issues with authority before. and you didn’t get this way around the captain. but something about ghost unsettled you. he was a cold-blooded killer after all.

you knew that lots of the men here were technically killers, but there was a mythical aura around ghost. even the enemies knew to beware the man in the skull mask. once you see him, it’s too late, you’re already dead.

and it didn’t help that ghost seemed to despise you. you’ve seen him get irritated at the others before–especially soap. but you’ve also seen him joke and act friendly too. just never with you. if you knew why, you’d change that thing about yourself. anything for peace. but you couldn’t wrap your mind around why he hated you. maybe he just hated medics? but he didn’t seem to mind any of the other medics on base; at least not that you saw.

maybe he just didn’t like women. especially ones that thought they were macho enough to fight in the military. but that didn’t seem quite right either.

god, you needed to stop overthinking everything.

regardless of ghost’s reasoning, you squeezed your hands as you grabbed a medical tray and rolled it over to ghost’s bed.

you tried to disguise the gulp when you saw him, outstretched in bed, his tactical gear shed and scattered on the ground. boots on, but untied. his long sleeve shirt now tossed on the end of the bed, stained with blood–a t-shirt his only covering. his pants low on his hips as his shirt rode up from how he laid propped on the bed. his neck exposed from where his mask and shirt collar didn’t meet.

oh my god, you were acting like a victorian man with the way your heart was suddenly racing at every little bit of exposed skin.

you pried your eyes away and slid on a pair of latex gloves.

you grabbed a disinfectant and turned to him, trying to conjure a polite smile.

“look like you’re gonna be sick,” he grumbled.

“i’m smiling. this is me happy,” you said back, the forced grin slipping away now that ghost called you out on it.

you swore you almost heard him chuckle.

you tentatively reached out to the hem of his shirt and pushed it up to where the bloody bandage you put on earlier sat.

you felt his eyes on you as you began working, removing the old bandage and cleaning his wound properly. you shifted back and forth between ghost and the tray table beside you, dabbing up the blood and gingerly washing the wound.

after it was cleaned and you were struggling to keep your mind clear, you needed to do a small strip of stitches to keep the gash from widening.

“i’m just going to go ahead and give you a few stitches,” you said quietly, avoiding the dark gaze of his eyes. you applied a numbing agent that you knew wouldn’t affect his skin deep enough to mask all the pain. you had to save the proper sedation and anesthetics for more serious injuries, always cautious to not run out of supplies while only getting provisions delivered on occasion.

you got the suture kit out before you. eyeless needle ready in hand, you began to quickly slide the needle through his skin to close it up. ghost didn’t so much as flinch as you went to work.

ghost had shifted his position slightly, his shirt riding up in the process and exposing the way his sweatpants hung low on his hips, the V of his lower abdomen coming into view.

your cheeks felt hot as you tried to pretend you hadn’t noticed.

“shit. take it easy, love,” ghost grunted. you hadn’t realized you were putting pressure on his wound as you stared at the hair that trailed up towards his navel, completely losing all train of thought.

“oh my god. i’m sorry,” you stuttered, wanting to hurry up and finish so you could get out of here.

did he just call you love? your chest exploded with unwanted feelings. god damnit, you cursed to your-easily-seduced-self. stop being irrational, he’s british, they call everyone ‘love’.

you could feel ghost’s eyes burning holes through you, tempting you to lose the steadfast nature of your hands.

“nervous?” he asked in such a nonchalant way.

you refrained from gulping as you secured the end of the suture. “n-no.”

“you’re a bloody soldier. there's no place for nerves.”

you felt your heart sink deep within your chest at his harsh words. ghost had noticed your nervous ticks, the way you were distracted around him. he might not have known that he was the source of your jitters, but he noticed nonetheless. and he clearly thought you were weak for acting like that. how had someone like you secured a job in the military? you wanted to tell him that you weren’t usually like this. that you were always good under pressure–it’s where you thrived. that you were quick on your feet and ready to risk it all to save your teammates.

it wasn’t you being afraid. it was you being intimidated by his looming presence. wanting to please your lieutenant. wanting to get on his good side. but you didn’t know how. and it made it far more difficult when you began to notice your attraction to him. how were you supposed to act cool and collected in front of ghost when his piercing gaze sent goosebumps up your spine. or how his words made you lose all thought–stealing yours right from your mouth.

and it didn’t help that he was a grumpy, negative, and an all around contentious bastard. you tried so hard to tell yourself that you weren’t attracted to him. he was just another soldier (a rude one at that). you didn’t even know what he looked like under his mask for fucks sake.

when you finished up, placing a fresh bandage over your work, you threw your gloves in the bin and turned to him. “i’m sorry.” the words escaped you before you could stop them. you were seriously apologizing for being nervous? how was that going to make things any better? he was certainly going to think you were too soft for this line of work now. an anxious surgeon wasn’t the best attribute for your lieutenant to think you possessed.

shocked by your own words, you turned to leave, stopping when you heard ghost mumble under his breath. “how the fuck did you manage to make it through combat training?”

you tried your damndest to reign in your tears before you made it to your room.

chapter 2 ➡

#ghost #simon riley #smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #beneath the mask

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sanjisjuul · 4 months

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Jealousy!

Summary:: Law's emo ass shows up and Sanji gets jealous

Cw: Cursing, penetration, pussy eating, kinda breeding i dont know its late

Major credits to @kibblz-n-bitz for helping me out ily

Word count: 4.4k

Mdni 18+

the slight sway of the ship relaxes you as you lay out on the deck. above lies pale blue skies, the sun radiates down through the atmosphere, warming your tanned skin as a soft breeze gusts past, sweeping your hair off of your shoulders. the day couldn’t be any more ideal, as the chatter from your crew served as pleasant background noise to the otherwise emptiness of your mind.

zoro rests by a nearby railing, muscular arms crossed as he takes his afternoon nap. nami is caring for her tangerine bushes. holding hedge shears, she’s smiling and laughing with robin as she waters her small yet vibrant flower garden. usopp and chopper sit cross legged on the lawn, engrossed in a board game. luffy sits between them, tongue poking out of his mouth as he studies their every move. franky is nowhere to be found, most likely toiling with a new gadget in his quarters. brook is perched on a bench by the lawn, horse haired bow sliding along his violin strings as he plays a soothing tune.

these are the days you cherish, no conflict, no marines, no enemies. just the days you get to spend with your best friends. the days where everybody is gathered near and most importantly safe. you smile to yourself as you relax your eyes, resting your arms behind your head, breathing in a sigh of relief. you begin to loose track of time, focusing your senses the serenity of the sea, before you’re interrupted.

“y/n,” a whisper comes from beside you. you open one eye, your peripheral revealing your smiling boyfriend standing over you, casting a shadow. you sit up in your chair, eyes lighting up at the view his charming, handsome face.

“sanji,” you reach your arms out for him. he kneels down to your level, resting his head on your shoulder, as his arms wrap around your figure. his large hands glide up and down the small of your back as he takes in the sweetness of your scent, sunscreen paired with your favorite shampoo.

“hi darling,” he whispers pressing a soft kiss into your shoulder before leaning back at an arms length, kneading your shoulders with his thumb. “i’m making some refreshments right now, would you like one?”

you smile in admiration, eyes wide as you stare up at your lover, “of course love, what did you make?” you rise to your feet, stretching your limbs and yawning loudly. you don’t miss sanji’s gaze as it rakes your body in its entirety. you’ve been dating for a while now, but that will never prevent him from admiring your beauty.

“your favorite,” he grins offering his hand for you to take. “raspberry iced tea.” you grasp his hand bringing it to your lips before you press a soft kiss his fingers. the cool metal of his rings causing a small shiver to chill your bones. “you know me so well.”

you stride hand in hand, following him towards the kitchen. just as he’s about to push the door open you hear a small racket coming from behind you. you snap your head around to find luffy, chopper, and usopp have abandoned their game. instead they are leaning over the railing of the ship, hollering and waving towards something in the near distance. you squint your eyes, just barely making out a yellow figure that slowly emerges from the sea. you release sanji’s hand, face lighting up as you bolt down the stairs. you almost skip towards where your crew mates gather, hanging your upper body over the rail alongside chopper. as you predict, it’s none other than the polar tang which means only one thing to you.

once the submarine fully surfaces, you direct your focus onto the front door. the doorknob jiggles for a moment before it’s swung open, revealing the familiar face of trafalgar law. you hear cheers from beside you, luffy jumps up and down calling out to the other captain, as chopper’s eyes light up at his entrance.

“tra-guy,” luffy bellows waving his arms back and forth dramatically as if law isn’t about 10 feet away. law rolls his eyes, before casting a room over the ship. you feel a gust behind you and all four of you pivot on your heels. law stands in front of you, long jacket open, revealing not only his tattooed torso, but the ab muscles etched underneath his skin. he adorns his signature irritated expression as he tsks under his breath. “straw hat-ya,” he speaks, avoiding eye contact all together.

“tra-guy!” luffy exclaims, marching towards him and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in for an embrace. law’s expression becomes visibly more frustrated at the closeness. “didn’t expect to see you here,” luffy chuckles, arm tightening around law’s larger figure. law tries his hardest to distance himself, face as far away from luffy’s as physically possible as luffy pats his back aggressively. “well, whatever the reason,” luffy starts. “no-“ law attempts, but luffy interrupts . “lets’s have dinner!, sanji, food!” luffy cheers disregarding any protests from the irate captain. you hear a grumble from sanji before the kitchen door is slammed shut.

with the help of franky’s craftsmanship both your crew and the heart pirates gather around a large table for dinner. once sanji places both silverware and the dishes on the table, the heaps of food follow. as always it looks delicious, a colossal pile of linguini sits in a bowl along with various seafoods mixed inside. you lick your lips as this is your all time favorite dish, especially when prepared by your talented boyfriend.

luffy immediately stretches an arm,, grabbing the bowl and shoveling pasta onto his plate, leaving the rest of you to eye the bread on your otherwise empty plates. luffy is interrupted by a kick on the head by sanji, “leave some for the rest shithead,” he growls before snatching the bowl away and placing it back at the center of the table. luffy frowns, but soon forgets his agitation while he shovels the food he did manage to grab into his mouth.

you peer in front of you, law sits directly across the table, his eye twitches irritatedly as he awaits his turn. you can’t help but stare at the captain. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, and although you have a boyfriend, it’s not like you would ever cheat. plus with sanji’s antics you find no harm in looking. “y/n-ya,” your daze is broken as law glares at you, offering you the dish of pasta. you freeze, your breath hitching in your throat as you observe the way his tattooed fingers grip the porcelain. his icy eyes bore into yours as you reach a shaky hands up for the bowl, but you jump as it’s seized from his grasp.

“let me,” sanji smiles. he scoops you a helping, before treating himself. “thank you baby,” you whisper before digging into your food. your eyes roll back at the flavor, nothing could ever compare to sanji’s cooking. the entire table is filled with only the sounds of chewing as everybody savors the meal in front of them. luffy wastes no time in grabbing seconds then thirds as everybody continues working on their first course. you finish your meal quickly, taking a small sip of water as you sit back in your chair. again, you focus your attention on law as he chews his meal. your eyes close in on his lips as he licks them clean after a bite. you feel a hand rest on your thigh and lightly squeeze, but you pay no mind as you continue to watch as he finishes his serving, leaving only the piece of bread in its wake.

you hear the flick of sanji’s lighter beside you. he inhales the smoke from his cigarette and exhales it in front of him, letting the smoke cloud around law. “you gonna eat that?” sanji questions, pointing a finger at laws plate. law gazes up and makes eye contact with your boyfriend, “i don’t like bread,” he responds matter of factly before sipping the glass of water in front of him. sanji slams his hand on the table angrily, “i don’t give a shit,” he snaps, “you won’t waste food on this ship.” everybody falls silent around you as sanji’s eyes narrow. “i’ll take-“ luffy starts.

“no!” sanji yells slapping luffy’s outstretched arm, “he’s gonna eat it!” you reach your hand up and tug sanji’s arm, causing him to sit back in his chair. he doesn’t break his fiery gaze as you rise, snatching the bread off of law’s plate and eating it. “y/n,” sanji starts, disappointment laced in his voice, but he falls silent as you finish it. “see babe, no big deal,” you smile as you sit back in your chair. sanji takes a drag of his cigarette before aggressively putting it out on the ashtray besides him. “i guess not,” he says blankly, face expressionless. law breaks his gaze from sanji, rolling his eyes before speaking,,“thanks y/n-ya.” you feel heat rush to your cheeks, “no problem.”

dinner ends awkwardly, and everybody gathers on the deck. brook plays a tune on his violin as most dance and drink away. zoro sits alone, watching and smiling as he takes a sip from his sake. luffy, usopp, chopper, and franky dance away along with bepo, penguin, and sachi. robin and nami stand beside you as you sip on glasses of red wine. they converse, trying to get your attention, but it’s futile, your attention is once again trained on the captain of the heart pirates. he stands across the deck, leaning over the rail, long legs crossed as he peers up at the star filled sky.

your legs act before your mind does, as you don’t even bother to excuse yourself from the girls, and walk towards him. you approach him quietly, sipping from your glass. he turns to you briefly, before training his gaze back up to the sky. “i’m sorry about dinner,” you break the silence, “sanji can be a hot head sometimes, but he means well,” you smile. he merely hums in agreement, not tearing his eyes away from the view above.

you feel a pair of hands rest on your hips, before you’re turned around softly. sanji stands before you, his head leans down towards your level, “darling,” he smiles kindly, “i hate to ask, but i may need some help in the kitchen.” he presses a kiss into your forehead. you mirror his expression, “i thought i’d never see the day you ask for help,” you chuckle as he releases his grip on you. you follow sanji as he paces to the kitchen, oddly enough he doesn’t hold your hand as he usually does. you play it off as him being stressed. he does have to clean up after more than double the people as usual.

he holds the door open for you as you enter. you halt and raise an eyebrow at the sight. the kitchen seems spotless, the table has no signs of previous use, there aren’t any dishes in the sink, and the counters are spotless. you open your mouth to question why he asked for help, but the sound of the door locking causes you to freeze.

you squeal as you’re lifted off the ground and swung over sanji’s shoulder. he marches down the hallway and into your shared bedroom before kicking the door shut so hard it almost fly’s off of its hinges. he softly rests you on the bed before hovering above you. he inhales his cigarette, flicking it to the floor and stomping it out beneath him before loosening his tie. you gawk as he leans over you, arms resting on either side of your head as he cages you in.

“why?” he questions, hurt apparent in his eyes. you furrow your eyebrows, completely oblivious to what he was talking about. “huh?” you respond, gripping his forearm reassuringly. “don’t be so naive,” he starts, “you’ve been staring at him all night. am i not enough?” he grits his teeth. sanji practically seethes with anger above you as the heat from his body radiates onto yours. “i-.” he shakes his head, cutting you off, “don’t try to downplay it. this isn’t the first time this has happened.” you start to feel guilty, you didn’t expect sanji to pick up on your actions, but he clearly noticed, and it obviously hurts him.

“sanji, baby no,” you start, cradling his face in your hands, “you are enough, i love you so much i would never.” you press a kiss into his forehead and you can feel his tense body relax under your touch. his face closes in on yours as he presses his lips onto yours.

your muscles previously taught, loosen beneath him as he tenderly kisses you. his lips cradle yours with admiration before he swipes his tongue past onto your lower lip. you part your mouth, granting his offering, mewling underneath him. his arm reaches for your leg, wrapping it around his torso, leaving no space between your bodies. you reach your hands up to his hair, your fingers tangle in his locks, as your tongues continue to fight for dominance.

you gasp as his mouth leaves yours, immediately latching onto your exposed collar bones, nipping and sucking at the soft flesh. your leg tightens around his back, hands balling into fists as he grinds down onto you. you can feel him through his slacks, he’s warm and rock hard. “mine,” he growls, warm and wet tongue drawing a line from your collar bones up to your throat. “all mine,” he wraps his mouth around the skin, sinking his teeth in softly as he sucks hard, surely leaving a mark.

your body contracts, “that feel good?” he questions. you nod, lifting your hips to meet his as he repeatedly and slowly dry humps you into the mattress. his lips leave your neck and he cranes his head up to look at you. you audibly moan at the way he stares at you. the smallest rim of ocean blue surround the black of his blown pupils. his eyes reveal his emotions which are ones of lust, passion, and jealousy.

he remains his eye contact as one of his hands slips past the hem of your shirt. he torturously slides his large hands up the expanse of your torso, starting at your hip, reaching your lower stomach, up your ribs, and landing on your bare breast. you hiss at the contact, the icy metal of his rings immediately stimulate your nipple, causing it to harden. his other hand follows , wasting no time to palm at your other breast. the tips of his fingers dance over your other hardened nub, refusing to give you what you want as he lightly flicks back and forth.

you’re pliable underneath him, squirming and whining at every feathery touch he gives you. he rarely teases you in this way, always giving you exactly what you want without asking. sanji has one rule and that is that he lives to serve you. however, that unwritten rule is tossed aside as he lets you crumble underneath him, patiently waiting for you to ask, to beg for it.

the sensation of your juices flowing freely down your thighs puts you in a slight discomfort, but theres not much you can nor are willing to do. your mind clouds as he brings your nipples between his fingers, just barely tugging at the sensitive flesh, eliciting a strained moan from the depths of your chest. at this point you can’t handle his teasing, the faint whispers of his touch aren’t enough, you crave something more. “sanji,” you mewl, your tongue swiping the cracked skin of your bottom lip, “please touch me.” at your words he slowly removes his hands out from underneath your shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps as the warmth of his flesh is replaced with the frigid night air. he brings a hand up to your head, patting your disheveled hair from your face, before trailing his thumb down your jawline. he slows his movements upon reaching your chin, before trailing up and letting his thumb tug on your bottom lip.

you freeze as his eyes scan your face, he’s searching for any signs of apprehension, to which there were none. you couldn’t be any more enthralled with the man leaning above you. nothing and nobody could compare to the immense joy and comfort he brings you. nothing could compare to the tingly feeling you get when he holds you, letting you rest your head on his chest as he sleeps peacefully beside you night after night. and nothing could compare to the way he satisfies you both mentally and physically, nobody could make you feel the way that he does. and although he’s aware of this, your actions previously in the day have him questioning it all, so he makes it his mission to remind you. to remind you that you’re his and he’s yours.

you reach for his hands, interlacing your fingers with his, but are struck with a twinge of hurt when he stands up, slowly releasing your grip and letting your arms bounce back on the mattress. he continues holding eye contact, unreadable expression painting his features as he hovers over you. after what seems like hours, he lowers his gaze onto himself. he shrugs his suit jacket off, before untying his tie. he paces slowly over to the nearby desk, back turned to you he folds both pieces of clothing before placing neatly them down. he starts working on the buttons of his shirt, intricately popping each open before peeling the blue dress shirt off, placing it on top of the small pile.

you clench around nothing at the sight of his back, lean muscles of his biceps and deltoids ripple as he puts his hands in his pockets. he turns back towards you, silently eyeing you as he approaches. he resumes his position, leaning back over you, and this time you wrap both legs around him tightly, scared to let go. “my love,” he whispers, reaching down to pull your shirt over your head, freeing your breasts with a soft bounce. “let me remind you,” he tugs off your skirt, tossing it on the desk. “let me remind you how good i make you feel.”

any response you could come up with falls flat, your mind focuses on the hungry actions of your boyfriend who’s now positioned between your legs, kissing up and down the inners of your thighs. you attempt to squirm, but his firm grip holding your legs to the bed prevent any sort of movement. he licks a stripe up your left thigh, then right one, allowing himself to lick past your outer labia, but not where you need him the most. you’re sure he can see how much you crave him, there’s no way he can miss the way your slick seeps through the thin fabric of your panties, and coats your trembling thighs.

his teasing halts, as he licks one last stripe, this time letting his tongue glide up your center and pressing a soft kiss to your clit. he releases his grip on your thighs, running his hands up your hot flesh and hooking his fingers around your panties, slowly pulling them down as he looks up at you. he stuffs your underwear in his trouser pocket, saving it for later, wasting no more time to dive into your sex.

whimpers leave your parted mouth as he slowly licks up and down, making sure to flick his tongue against your clit every chance he gets. he groans into your cunt, the taste and aroma affecting him greatly as his cock twitches, beads of precum soaking his boxers. the vibration from his mouth reverberates through your pussy, causing fire to erupt throughout your entire being, and settling in your lower stomach.

his lips latch to your clit, pressing soft kisses paired with kitten licks in between, causing you to loose composure as your hips buck up into his mouth. sanji would take this over receiving any day. the way your flushed face contorts in utter pleasure is more than enough for him to get off to. not to mention the way you tremble, one hand clawing at the sheets as the other toys with your nipples it a sight to behold. he prefers it this way, after all theres nothing better than a satisfied lady.

you feel his finger prod at your entrance, his movements on your clit never seizing as he sinks his finger into you with ease. you whine as he tests the waters, steadily pumping in and out of you as to let you get used to the feeling.

your core is boiling as he pumps his large finger in and out of you, hooking it up to hit your g spot each time. you’re already close, sanji knows your body better than his own. he’s studied any and all reactions you give him, keeping mental notes of what makes you feel good and what doesn’t. his expertise shows as he removes his finger from your entrance, his lips pressing one last kiss onto your clit before he grabs you by the hips, flipping you over on your stomach.

you cry out as he reinserts his finger, reassuming his previous pace while his tongue finds your clit once again. you sit up on your knees, back arching as he eats you out from behind. drool soaks your sheets, fingers twitching, and legs shaking as he works up his pace, rapidly licking you clean, and inserting another finger inside you.

“sanji,” you whine, your body starts convulsing, muscles twitching as he pulls your orgasm from deep within you. he only hums as a response, never daring to stop his actions in fear that your high will be ripped away. the rumble of his voice causes you to let go, mewling and crying as your orgasm overtakes your body. you come undone on his face, and although he tries to savor every last drop, your juices coat his beard and drip down his chin. you pant feverishly, arms working their absolute hardest to keep you upright as he laps you with his tongue.

he wraps his arms around your stomach, gently helping you lay down before kissing your shoulder tenderly. your hear the metal of his zipper slide down from behind you, the rustling of fabric follows before you feel his length rub your core. “you ready darling?,” he questions as he coats himself with your juices, shuddering at the warm feeling. you merely nod and whisper a small “yes please,” and he takes that as his cue to enter you.

he slowly grinds into you, stretching you to capacity as he bottoms out. he fucks you slow and deep, making you whimper every time his tip kisses your cervix. “my god,” he groans gripping the fat of your hips for leverage, “it’s like you’re made for me.” you struggle to respond, too lost by the fire that fills your body with each roll of his hips. his fingers dig into your plush skin, he grips you as if you’re about to melt away through his palms.

to your surprise he picks up the pace, his hips speedily pounding you, the rough sounds of skin slapping satisfy him to the fullest. sanji isn’t the type to fuck hard and fast, he usually savors the moment for the longest he can, but you have awakened something inside of him. he wants you teary eyed, screaming his name for everybody to hear. he needs everybody to know you’re his, especially that emo fuck.

and to his utmost pleasure, your whimpers turn into loud wails. shouts of his name leave your mouth, his cock churns your insides in the best way possible. “that’s right,” sanji smirks, arms snaking around your chest, bringing your back flush with his chest. his lips hover over your ear, causing shivers to traverse down your spine. “need to hear you, need to hear how good i make you feel,” he bites down on the shell of your ear, soft hands grip your breasts and tug your nipples through the tips of his fingers. “let everybody hear, don’t hold back.”

chants of his name are followed with profanity are spewed from your mouth as you try to cope with the immense pleasure he gives you. a loud knock on your door almost distracts you as you snap your head in it’s direction, but that doesn’t stop sanji. he can’t stop even if he tried, the way you suck him in leaves him pussy drunk, completely intoxicated by the spell you have him under.

“gonna cum baby,” he grunts, his hips sputter as he jackhammers you. “want it inside, please,” you beg arm reaching up to his head, pulling it in the crook of your neck. sweat drips down both your bodies before you hear a loud hiss come from your boyfriend. with one last deep thrust, he keeps it in, filling you with his seed. the warm feeling of his cum coating your insides drives you insane, but also brings a new sense of closeness. his cock twitches as rope after rope of cum is pumped inside of you, his body pulsates as small whimpers leave his lips.

you both gasp for air, his arm still tightly wrapped around you as he nuzzles his head into your hair. you cherish the moment as the seconds tick by. your sticky bodies in their most vulnerable state are glued together, the humid air surrounding was not only proof of what just happened, but a reminder of the passion you share for each other.

he moves your hair off your shoulder, kissing the exposed skin, “i’m sorry,” he whispers a small apology nuzzling himself into your back. you part your lips to speak, but are cut off, “i just can’t stand the thought of you… being with someone else. you are my world.” he finishes, voice cracking at the end of his sentence.

droplets of warm tears flow down his cheeks, dropping on your back and slowly sliding down. you muster up all your remaining strength, turning to face him. “hey,” you soothe, thumbs wiping the tears from his watery eyes, “you’re my world, i never want to picture a day where you aren’t mine. i love you sanji and only you.”

he sniffles, wide eyes meeting yours, “promise?” you lean in, kissing him softly on the forehead, “promise.”

tags: @leakyweep @stardustcrustaders @leftsidebonfire @kibblz-n-bitz @pileofmush

love, bia ૮ • ﻌ - ა

#one piece fan fiction #one piece smut #love bia ૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩#sanji smut #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #sanji #one piece sanji #blackleg sanji #one piece

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katsukiizmoon · 11 months

Text

╰┈➤ ꒰🍓♥️🌶 ┊”henny n’ coke, baby” + BKG ꒱

『♡』 18+ , healthy relationship, alcohol consumption, clubbing, grinding, twerking, friendly fun, making out w Mina, flirting, squirting, cum licking, cock sucking if u squint, finger sucking, light hair pulling, light choking, spitting in mouth, cum kisses, “good girl”, exhibitionism / voyeurism (if you squint), f!reader x katsuki bakugou

『♡』 was thinking about when my friend and I took turns spitting alcohol in one another’s mouth then kissed. Anyways this is a horny mess. Warning you now. IM a horny mess, fuck.

The club music is loud, you can hardly hear one another. It vibrates the floor and the tequila in your veins has you excited.

You start off with Kirishima, who whoops and hollers and catches your hips while you grind. You roll your hips in a circle, too tiny skirt coming up a little and flashing panties. Sweat beads on the back of your neck and you flip your hair to the side. Ignoring your massive hoop earrings getting stuck in your hair, you look back over your shoulder with a grin.

His hands are thick and large, where they lightly rest over the curve of your hips. He avoids touching too much. You thank him for that, but wish he’d be a little rougher.

Mina jumps in front of you and starts throwing it in a circle. Her ass presses into you and she bounces. Skimpy shorts show off pink ass cheeks and fishnets. She giggles loud enough you can hear it over the music. It’s hot, she’s hot, he’s hot. But you know what’s hotter? Katsuki.

And then you’re thirsty, horny, and on a mission. Everything seems amazing, the world feels like this is what life is about. One of those moments that makes you feel higher on life than just about anything else.

Mina takes over and Eijirou takes it upon himself to pull your skirt down enough to cover more of your ass. He gives a light tap to the fat there and gets close to your face, giving you a toothy smile.

He says something over the music and you don’t know what anything was. Except “good luck”.

Your beautiful, tall and strong boyfriend stands off to the side with Kaminari. They chat idly and you make your way to him, weaving through the crowds of people. Thank fuck you wore flat shoes and not heels today.

When you arrive he’s giving you a quick kiss, asking if you had fun, and you nod feverishly. Wordlessly you point to the drink in his hand and take a sip.

“Yuck! Wha’s this?” You whine, confused. Your features scrunch as if you’ve sucked on a lemon.

“Henny n’ coke baby.” Katsuki laughs and Kaminari raises his matching drink.

Katsuki looks edible- all tanned muscle and winks. You don’t blame all the women that have come up and attempted to dance with him. Comfortable black slacks and half unbuttoned, see through, Lacey top. You picked this for him, knew you wanted to see his body whenever you could. And the chain around his neck shines a little brighter against the club lights.

The song changes, less EDM and more so rap. You squeal, taking another sip of his drink and handing the rest to Kaminari.

Katsuki cocks a brow and Kaminari let’s out a laugh, knowing what’s coming. You grab at his wrist and leave a wet kiss to his lips. Throwing a wink to him, you stick your tongue out.

You push him toward an open chair, one of the few sitting in a corner and he falls back with a ‘oomph. He looks at you with wild, cherry eyes and Kaminari watches from the distance with a grin.

Katsuki’s on cloud nine, alcohol making him braver than he’s ever been and ridding him of his nerves. His cock stirs in his pants at the sight of you.

You plop your ass onto his crotch and grind, bouncing your hips up and down in rhythm. Something comes over you and you bounce on his lap like you’re riding his cock, making a kissy face toward Denki.

Katsuki throws his head back and grips on the fat of your hips, watching your mini skirt ride up and put your thong back on display. You turn to face him, rubbing his chest with your hands and rolling your body. Your knees are situated on either side of him, and you bounce your tits.

He wills himself not to fuck you in the club. Begs himself to show restraint, despite seeing the wet spot on your panties.

Your tongue slides over the seam of your lips, proving yourself back so that the back of your knees hangs over the chair. He watches you, steadying your excited movements with firm hands.

His cock presses into your ass and his eyes meet yours. Cherry eyes consume you, making you wild, and you lean back and flip off the chair.

First he panics, but when he sees your head pop back up and you smile, he laughs a little. He stands at that, bending you over and letting you twerk and grind against his cock in front of everyone. He nods to Denki, who heads over and hands him his drink swiftly.

The blond hunk you’ve got your ass pressed to takes a sip and gyrates his hips into yours. You snap back up and turn, shoving your tongue in his mouth. Your sparkly gloss smears onto the corners of his mouth and he licks into you.

When you pull back for breath, he uses a thumb to wipe some of it off your face and gives you a wink. Denki still stares, gobsmacked, cock growing hard in his pants at the sight before him.

Eijirou and Mina make their way over with another set of drinks and you take a nice, long swig. The pink haired girl grins and pulls you in for a kiss, earning a low whistle from Eijirou and a couple swears from the two blondes.

She tastes sweet, like vodka and orange juice, and her lips are plush. You make note to run off to the bathroom for a makeup touch up later. But that thought is shoved down when her hands reach around to snake up your skirt. She grips at the flesh there and leaves a firm smack. Her tongue is long and it explores, sending shivers down your spine and making your clit pulsate in your panties. Your hips kick and she grins into your mouth, pulling back with a string of spit. A choked noise leaves one of the men in the group.

“Can he spit my drink in my mouth?” She whispers, inches from your lips.

You nod, pulling away and sending him a wink. She practically bounces toward him and gets in front of him, back turned. The music vibrates your bones and soothes the ache in your tummy. Katsuki hands his drink to Eijirou and grabs hers out of her hand.

Eijirou groans out a “me next” and Denki a “me third “.

She does a little twerk on him and he grabs her by the throat. You watch as your boyfriend uses a large, rough hand to position her just right. Her mouth hangs open and she closes her pretty eyes. He brings her drink to his swollen lips, sucking through the straw.

Then he swishes it in his mouth and your pussy throbs at what he does next. He’s spitting it in her mouth, not letting her come up to breathe properly until she swallows. And god you have got to be next on the list.

Her eyes roll back and she licks her lips. You’re on your way over to Katsuki, excited, tipsy, and much too in love with that idea. God bless Mina, the kinky bitch.

The other two take their turns and it shows what they’re like in bed, too. Denki is sweet about it, takes his time, sends her off with a wink and a light tap to the jaw with his hand. And Kirishima? Fuck. He has Denki give him the drink, holding it up. His other arm holds her close to his chest and he hovers his mouth right over Hers and spits. Before she can protest, his thumb is in her mouth and he’s telling her to suck.

People whistle and holler, a group of girls make a moaning sound and one of them yells a “god when will that be me” over the music.

And you’re all sucking down glasses of water and pouring an electrolyte mix in to avoid hangover next. Only to go grab another drink, something that’ll leave you all just a little hornier and on edge.

Katsuki and you find yourselves desperately yanking clothes off at the end of the night. The Uber pulls off and you make sure Mina, Denki, and Eijirou got to their shared destination safe. And then something comes over Katsuki that you’ve never seen before.

It isn’t jealousy, not by a long shot. His cock is leaking precum when you pull it out and he’s gasping, pushing his tongue further into your mouth.

You quickly make it to the bed, still in your shirt and thong, and him in just the goddamned button up. And he’s got you bent over, pressed into the mattress, thong pulled to the side. and fucking you so hard you’re high.

“Yeah? You liked them watching you rub on my cock huh?” He gasps, face numb. A pink tongue licks over puffy lips and he leans forward to anchor his hand in your hair. It stings but he isn’t pulling, just gripping hard enough for you to know he’s got you.

His cock is so thick, filling you to the brim and then some, and you whine out agreements. Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth and he brings his head closer to yours. His hips stop moving and you whimper, pushing yourself back on him desperately.

“You wanted to suck Eijirou, didn’t you baby?” Katsuki rasps, licking and sucking below your ear.

Your pussy squeezes and it gives him his answer. He drops his hand in your hair, bringing one around and under your panties to rub circles on your clit. The other, he brings up to spit on the tips of his middle and forefinger before he shoves them in your mouth. You keen, squeezing harder and sucking on his fingers.

“Look at this, such a good, good girl for me. Come on pretty, tell me what you want.” He mutters, willing himself to stay still. His fingers are removed from your mouth and you frantically start begging for him to move.

But he doesn’t, he continues rubbing lazy circles and his hand wraps around your throat. He squeezes lightly, just enough to make you dizzy and float. And then he stops, and does it again, and then he just holds it there. Let’s you know that he could if he wanted to.

“What do you say?” He demands, more than asks, and his lips tingle.

His throat is dry, tongue heavy, watching you try to fuck yourself on his cock. But you can’t, it won’t work the same without him doing it. And he knows that.

“Fuck- oh god fuck- please, please, please!”

Your fingers dig into the sheets and spit covers his hand. He removes his fingers from your pussy, where they originally rubbed, and he sucks the taste of you off of them and moan. He throws his head back and slams into you.

You shake, spongey spot being bullied by the head of his cock. Your thong is ruined, no double stretched out. Pussy juice slicks down your thighs and froths at the base of his cock. He pulls his hand off your throat, sitting back on his knees, where he spits where his cock meets your pussy. It’s dirty, and he watches you clench around him, sucking him in.

Your pussy squelches, spewing clear juice all over the bed and you praise him like he’s fucking god. Begging him not to stop, to stop, to keep going, harder. Faster. And then he rubs your clit back and forth, up and down, making the squirt spray everywhere.

Something in you snaps and your body goes taut and then limp, your eyes rolling back as you just lay there and take it. And he pulls out, flipping you over and crawling forward.

You watch in awe as your boyfriend, with a face burning peachy and coral tones, fucks into his fist over your face. You open your mouth and he sinks his cock in, just a little, and pulls out again. You reach a hand up, wrapping around the base. There you move, licking at the head of his cock to taste yourself and the precum off of it.

He cums a minute later, all over your pretty lips, where he promptly licks at. He suckles on your bottom lip and spits some of his cum back into your mouth. You greedily accept, swallowing it down with a giggle.

It takes a few moments for you both to collect yourself. And then you’re grabbing the bottle of water beside the bed and taking turns chugging. The Gatorade is next, before you head off to the bathroom. He licks his thumb and wipes some of the cum off of your face, sucking it off of his finger.

Then, you’re brushing your teeth and butt ass naked, showering sloppily. The clock on your nightstand reads 5:08 am and you sigh into his chest when you finally lay down for sleep. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

Eijirou and Mina are going to love hearing these stories tomorrow.

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ohcaptains · 8 months

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what if this is real?

pairing. ellie williams x female! reader

an. i'm gonna pretend that this isn't my first fic in six months and just move on...anyway. um. hi? i hope you enjoy -- not my usual filth. love u.

synopsis. it's the end of the world, but there's still parties to attend. or, the first kiss in yours and ellie's situationship.

warnings. kissing -- suggestive language and swearing. probably the most tame i've written in a hot min!

You’re standing in front of Ellie’s door, thinking, fuck this.

It would be easy to turn around and pretend that you’ve forgotten all about the party. You could pretend that you’d slept through the whole thing. Ignore the – eventual – banging on your door, and the husk of Ellie’s voice penetrating the wood, asking, Babe, you sleeping?

Your cold fingers reach down and tug at your rising skirt, and you think -- for the third time this night -- that you shouldn’t have worn this God damned outfit.

The alcohol you’d downed before trudging over here quiets that voice a little, but you’re always nervous around Ellie.

If you told her that, she’d scoff and laugh you off. It was true, though. She made you go all doe-eyed and dumb.

The thought of her complimenting you made you wear this silly outfit, and It was winter, for fucks sake.

You knock on her door, déjà vu washing over you. How many times have you stood, nervous, at Ellie’s door? You chew on your bottom lip, playing with the hem of your skirt still.

“Coming!” Ellie’s familiar cadence immediately hollers.

She fumbles around with something, and when she opens the door, she’s tugging a simple tank top over her muscular belly.

You briefly glance at her middle, eyes finding the faint lines of her abs.

“Well don’t you look nice,” she teases.

When you eventually drag your eyes to her eyes, she’s giving you a once-over, a teasing beam on her pretty, freckled face.

As if to get a better look at your outfit, she pushes her loose auburn hair behind her ears.

Music floods through the open door – some shitty indie band she had a thing for – but all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears from her previous compliment.

It wasn’t all that great– she’d said you had looked nice – but that, plus the interest in her green eyes as she examines you, has your belly swirling.

Ellie steps back to get a better look. She licks the corner of her mouth and nods to you. “Twirl for me.”

Your eyes automatically roll, but you listen anyway -- hands out at your waist, you do a little slow twirl. Ellie whistles low.

When you face her again, she’s leaning against the door frame, muscular arms crossed over her chest and grinning cockily. “Oh yeah, putting on a show for me.” “Shut up – are you coming?” you ask, ignoring the heat that finds you and jabbing a thumb behind you.

Ellie drags her eyes away from the cut of your skirt, glancing into the distance. She nods as if she’s just remembered. As she nods, small bits of hair flutter onto her broad shoulders.

Her white tank is damp, too, with small patches of water staining the fabric.

“Oh yeah, I just got distracted. My hair was touching my shoulders weird, so I’m trying to cut it but I think I’ve fucked up the back.”

Trust Ellie to get that distracted and take up such a monumental task before a party. You motion for her to turn.

“Twirl for me.”

Begrudgingly, she does, managing to roll her eyes.

“Oh my god,” you suddenly gasp, hands flying to your mouth, “what have you done?”

Ellie spins, grabbing the back of her head in a panic.

“What?” she asks, green eyes wide. Just as quick as you put the act on, you drop it with a shrug. “It’s fine, just slightly uneven.”

“You’re an asshole, get in here.”

She grabs your hand and yanks you in, closing the door behind you. The speed makes you dizzy, so you grab a hold of her shoulders, trying to steady yourself.

“Whoa – gimmie a minute,” you whisper, trying to blink the world back into the frame.

Ellie immediately bends to look at you, confused.

There’s a beat where she’s concerned, and she gives you another once over, trying to see if there’s anything physically wrong. “The fuck is wrong with you?” she asks, nervous laughter bubbling out of her lips. “I’m –” you start to admit, blinking the fuzz away. Ellie watches you put your forefinger and thumb together, squinting, explaining that you’re, “– slightly drunk,” and she frowns, her face hard, waiting for you to explain further. “I’m wearing a skirt,” you simply state, and her frown deepens, mouth quirking to the side. She glances down, eyeing the short fabric.

“I noticed,” she bleats. “And I needed a little liquid courage…” you let out an exasperated sigh, shaking your head at yourself. “Neil’s homemade wine is no joke.” “Okay, sit down,” Ellie orders.

She begins to walk towards you, using her body to edge you closer to her bed, and you frown, asking, “What?” but still, you move with her. You try and explain that “I’m fine,” but Ellie just shakes her head, “Sit down, before you fall down.”

She can’t be serious. She’s seen me drunk before…worse than this. “El- “you begin, and her face tenses, no more fun Ellie. Her hard tone is unwavering as she asks, “Do I have to pick you up and sit you down myself?”

Your eyes widen, and there’s a beat of silence where your body reacts to her words.

Holy shit, you think, cheeks going hot. You have to laugh to hide it – have you push your thighs together.

The fuck was that?

“Ooo, okay,” you scoff, hands up, brows wiggling, and you let Ellie finish walking you to her unmade bed. You bounce onto the mattress, hands in your lap obediently.

The desire to explain hits you again, and you push at the mattress, saying, “Ellie, seriously, I’m fine.”

It’s a lie – every time you twist your head, the world turns – and the sudden concern from her is slightly overwhelming, if not embarrassing.

Still, she ignores your comment and walks to the sink, pouring you a glass of water, and then she grabs something from a wooden box. She thrusts both into your hands. “A bran muffin?” you question, staring at the lopsided baked good. Ellie pushes the glass to your face, and you glance up at her over the rim.

Her jaw is tense with unease, and her shoulders are rolled back, heavy with responsibility.

When you don’t move, she leans down, and her face is blurry, hand blurry, as you see the side of it before she taps your cheek softly. “Drink and eat – I’m gonna finish my hair.”

Then she turns to the bathroom, and you watch her muscular back disappear.

90’s indie pours into her little apartment, and you sit, dumbfounded at what has just happened.

You diligently sip at the water.

Ellie is always a little hot-headed, and yeah, when you mucked about on runs, she’d snap into leader mode, but the alcohol, threaded with the warmth of her apartment, your nerves, and the bare skin of her neck and arms – the slither of skin between her belt and hem of her top – have you befuddled.

She’d slipped into protective mode so quickly.

Was a little mean about it too.

You lay back on her bed, pulling the hem of your skirt down to try and cover your bare thighs, and frown at her ceiling, munching on the muffin.

Come to think of it, Ellie had been odd these last couple of weeks.

Your usual flirtatious banter has been edged with something else, and she was glancing at you more often – ushering you in front of her on runs, so she could watch your back. Pulling you behind her all the same.

Do I have to pick you up and sit you down myself?

You sip at the water and nibble on the muffin. Mindlessly rub circles into your lower thigh, thinking about the way she crooked her scarred brow and the hardness of her features.

Challenge me, I dare you.

Ellie always took a lot on, and she has been stressed more than usual recently, but she didn’t have to be a dick about it.

You push your bottom lip out, thinking at the ceiling. You think about her though, and something sickly sweet still swirls in your belly.

It makes your cheeks heat, and you blink away the sudden fever, clenching your eyes closed.

You manage to finish the water and the muffin, but your belly still feels funny. Hands are clammy, skin prickly.

Maybe you’re drunker than you thought.

You decide to get more water.

As you get to her kitchenette, she glances at you from the bathroom beside it.

“You okay?” she asks, and you turn to her. She’s mid-chop, the scissors loosely sitting in her grip. She’s also taken her top off. Now donning only her bra and jeans, the swirl in your belly doubles.

The sight is not uncommon for you, but you find it hard to be angry at her when she’s half-naked.

There’s a light dusting of loose auburn hair on her shoulders, and she drops the scissors, reaching up to run her fingers through her hair.

You glance down at her chest, seeing the faint muscles flex as she stretches. Her jeans hang low around her hips, and it’s only then that you notice they’re unbuttoned.

How hadn’t you noticed that before?

“Babe?” “Hm?” you hum, snapping back to her. She’s wearing a bold smile. Your throat constricts. “I asked if you were okay.” “Oh –” you start, quickly turning to the sink. You pour more water, shaking your head. You remember where you are. Remember what’s happening.

“No,” you start, crossing your arms under your chest, “you were mean.” Ellie pauses. When you turn back to her, there’s an amused smile on her face, “Mean?” she asks, “Yeah – “you firmly jut, sipping your water. “I’m not a child Ellie.” Ellie mimics your stroppy face and puts her arms under her chest, too.

You risk a glance at her chest and see that her nipples are hard, peaking through the soft fabric of her bra.

Fuck. You snap back to her face.

“What do you mean?” she questions, cocking her head to the side. She begins to sway towards you, and you don’t move as she comes to rest in front of you – your back to the kitchen counter. There’s a second where your brain short-circuits. You forget that you’re meant to be mad at her. Her long fingers reach up, and you glance at her hand, breath caught in your throat. She smooths your hair behind your ear, inches away, “You’re my wittle baby.”

“You’re annoying,” you quickly groan, trying to suppress your smile as you turn to put the glass in the sink.

Ellie groans, “Ughhhh, I know I know, I’m awful—” and reaches around to take the empty glass from you and put it in the sink.

You stare at it. You could have done that. You were about to do that.

She takes your hand, turning you to face her again.

“Come help me with the back.”

Your intertwined hands rest between you, pushing against your bare thigh.

Ignoring it seems like the wisest path. “Why should I?” you quirk, a faux frown on your face.

She’d put your glass in the sink. She’d taken the glass out of your hand and put it in the sink for you. Ellie pouts, pushing her bottom lip out, and she leans her full body weight on you, hips flush against yours, suddenly so close as she whispers, “You don’t want me to look pretty?”

Your belly flips. The smell of her, citrusy and damp, floods your nostrils, and you try to blink away the sudden dizziness that threatens to wash over you.

It’s then that you realise you’re not all that drunk anymore.

It’s just Ellie.

Your eyes flick down to her lips.

You trace the pink of them, focusing on the little cut she’s got there from chewing nervously. The air is suddenly thicker – all-consuming, and on your belly, you feel the brush of the button on Ellie’s jeans.

Warmth blooms, confusing and sudden.

Ellie’s silent. Looking up at her, you find that she’s studying you, too. Lavish green bathes you and you feel her unlock her hand from yours, pushing them onto the countertop on either side of your hips. The movement forces her closer, and you instinctually lean back, gasping as she follows you, forehead against yours.

You grab the back of her neck to stabilise yourself.

Her hands have moved to hold your hips.

There’s a fleeting second where you think she’s going to kiss you, but she instead brushes her nose against yours, and your mouth opens, a small hush of breath escaping.

Whatever this is, it’s never happened before. This is uncharted territory.

Your fingers stuff into her loose auburn strands, and you look down at where your body connects, seeing the tops of her breasts in the fabric bra. Her hardened nipples push at the cotton.

You drag your lips together, inhaling a shaky breath.

Looking back to Ellie, she’s watching you watch her. A small, crooked smile has absorbed her lips, and her cheeks are flushed pink, warm under your curious gaze.

She looks at your mouth, pushes her forehead against yours again, and inhales deeply, exhaling as she whispers, “Really wanna kiss you.”

Your heart picks up speed, the beat of it making your skin prickle -- your fingers numb.

A nervous panic finds you, and words fail as Ellie lazily gazes at your lips.

Your fingers move in her hair, cradling the back of her head, and, “Kiss me, then,” you whisper.

You barely see Ellie’s fleeting smile before she’s moving to press her lips to yours.

Her touch is tentative. Nervous, as she thumbs your hips, soft lips brushing against yours. Your eyes flutter closed, leaning into her mouth, and Ellie hums, the sound of it echoing through your body.

She pulls away for a second – maybe to centre herself - but you come back, excitedly brushing your tongue over her lips before kissing her, swallowing the surprised groan she emits.

Her hands tighten on your hips, while yours come to clutch the back of her head again. She tastes warm and new, the feeling unfamiliar, but you quickly become accustomed to it as she tongues her way into your mouth, body pressing tight against yours.

Heat consumes, warm and sudden.

For a fleeting second, you think, I’m kissing my best friend, but the thought is pushed away as Ellie’s hands greedily push behind you, flattening against your ass.

A gasp flutters out of your mouth, followed by an immediate swirl in your belly.

You move your hand, massaging the muscular side of her stomach. The kiss picks up as your hands move, your thumb running over the band of her bra.

Ellie whispers your name, desperate and breathy, and suddenly, it’s all too real -- you pull away.

Your eyes flutter open, and you swallow a gasp.

“We’re going to be late,” you rush, hand flattening on her stomach. Ellie takes a minute to collect herself. You can’t look at her as she watches you, emotions a whirlwind.

Eventually, her breathing settles. “Shit, yeah. The party,” she whispers, and she pulls back, hands leaving your body, the heat dispersing. She itches the back of her neck, nervously looking around. “Er – fuck. Lemme put a shirt on,” and as she looks for one, you lean against the counter, head hung back as you silently curse at the ceiling.

The walk to the party is silent.

Ellie – bless her heart – keeps a tight grip on your hand, thinking you’re still tipsy, but the alcohol has faded from your veins, replaced by a thicker, more visceral intoxication.

The touch of her is maddening.

You try and keep up, but your brain is foggy, and you’ve suddenly forgotten the way to the Tipsy Bison.

Ellie’s hand in yours is like a homing beacon.

Really wanna kiss you.

That’s what she’d said, right? The tenor of her voice consumes your mind, followed by the taste of her, and the slow-building desperation as she pulled you against her.

You hear the reverberating sound of her quick breathing as the bar comes into view, bright lights pouring out of its windows.

When Ellie pushes the door open, she drops your hand.

“Look who decided to finally show up!” Jesse hollers when he sees you. A hot acid shoots through your chest.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you mumble, pulling away. Ellie glances at you, eyes sombre, and you think she’s about to say something, but no words make it out. “What’d I miss?” you hear Jesse ask. You clench your hand together. Really wanna kiss you.

Of course, Joel is behind the bar. His smile is welcoming and warm as he takes you in.

“Fashionably late?” he quirks as you lean against the wood.

“Er, yeah. Something like that,” you mumble, then motion behind you.

“Your girl always has the best timing.” Joel squints. He flicks his curious gaze between you and Ellie, noting the way she’s watching you, and his mouth twists, teasing. “I think you mean your girl.”

“What?” you snap, head craning to Joel. His smile widens. Panic blooms again. “She say something?” you rattle, not bothering to hide the eagerness in your tone, and Joel shakes his head, pouring you a drink. He pours two, and slides them to you, “Not a word.”

The night passes in a blur. You spend most of it with Claire from the Kitchen, ignoring the burn at the back of your neck from Ellie’s eyes.

It doesn’t matter where you scamper off too – her gaze always finds you, searing a hole in your spine.

At one point, Claire cuts you off mid-sentence, “Sorry, Ellie’s looking at me weird.” “What?” you ask, turning immediately. You find the green-eyed girl staring, and when you glance at her, she quickly snaps away, almost flinching. With a sigh, you turn back to Claire.

“It’s not you – it’s me. It’s—” you shake your head, “—a long story.” “Well, maybe you can explain later because she’s coming our way.” You twist, and sure enough, Ellie is pushing through the crowd, half-full drink in hand. When she looks at you, she takes a sip, as if she needs the liquid courage.

Quickly, she’s inches away, and you smell the musky citrusy warmth of her. Take in her frame from your seat in the booth. Really wanna kiss you.

Her eyes find you, and they’re glazed from what looks like whiskey in her tumbler. “Um. Can we talk? Please,” then, “Hi Claire.”

Claire waves. There’s a beat of silence where you just look at Ellie – your friend, Ellie, who you just kissed – and you find that you’re rooted to the spot.

You don’t want to talk about it.

Don’t want to talk about how dizzy she made you feel, how you’d begged for more, reaching for the warmth of her lips as you dragged your hands over her narrow body.

Kiss me then.

When you don’t move, Ellie’s features freeze, and there’s fear there – please. Please talk to me.

You begin to slide out. Put on a front for Claire who is looking between the pair of you, perplexed. “Yeah, sure Els. Sorry, Claire, I’ll find you, okay?” Ellie holds a hand out for you to hold, but she pulls it back, scornful of the instinct. Shame, as you were about to grab it.

When you get out of the Tipsy Bison, you realise that the temperature has dropped rapidly.

You’re about to comment on the weather, but Ellie is turning, suddenly, stopping near the notice board and holding her hands up.

“I’m sorry,” she spits, the apology loud in the chilly air.

There’s no one around. They’re all either in bed or at the party, and the empty streets of Jackson make her apology more real, almost – just the two of you.

Music bleeds through the wood, swirling between the pair of you.

She clasps her long fingers together and starts tugging at them, wringing them out like a wet towel.

“I’m – fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry for kissing you it was…” she shakes her head, not able to find the word. Her lip wobbles and you remember that Ellie’s an emotional, needy drunk. “…I’m sorry,” she whispers again, words cracking. She looks at her Converse, ashamed. You take her red hands. Smooth your fingers over the marks she’d rubbed into them, silently begging for her to look at you.

Ellie had never kissed you before. But thinking about it, there’s not an ounce of regret floating in your body.

Confusion, sure but confused because you want it to happen again.

You bend to look at her, saying, with every fibre of your being that “It’s okay.” She’s quick to brush you off. Still looking at the floor, she states, “You were drunk.” “I wasn’t that drunk, Ellie. You’d plied me with food, and I had two glasses of water.” She shrugs, “Still.”

Taking a tentative step closer, you tug her hands, holding them close to your belly. Ellie runs hot and holding her has taken the edge off the chill.

Kiss me then. “I asked you to kiss me, Els.”

And I’d ask you to kiss me again if you weren’t so sad. Did kissing me make you sad, Ellie?

She slowly raises her head. There she is.

You husk, “I’m sorry if I made this confusing.” “No – I. I shouldn’t have,” she flexes her fingers around yours, “said what I said. I didn’t mean it.” Your face falls. Quickly, you try and pull the mask back up, but you squeak, “You didn’t mean it?” Ellies pales.

“Fuck—” she pulls her hands away, turning her back to you.

“I always say the wrong shit.”

Without her touch, the Jackson cold consumes you. A blue wave crashes into you. Lonely.

You’re lonely, standing on the porch of the Tipsy Bison, watching her back move as she rubs the base of her palms into her eyes.

She spits a curse. The air swirls under your skirt, and you suddenly feel a sickly feeling in your belly.

Your voice is a shell of itself when you whisper, “Ellie. We can just forget it happened if that’s what you want.” You get no response.

Had you made it all up? Had you read it wrong? Had Ellie even said what you thought she had?

“Please say something,” you breathe, picking at your nails.

You lick your lips and taste the ghost of her, hot and desperate in her apartment.

The musky taste of her will haunt you. Will consume your dreams, you’re sure of it, and you’ll wake, startling back into Jackson with that Blue Wave knocking into you once again.

Her back flexes. Silence ticks. Music bleeds, tinny – not real. Might as well not be.

The echo of the kiss fizzes at the back of your teeth like the hard-boiled sweet Ellie had slipped you during a drill one morning.

It’s lemon, she whispered, just don’t choke on it when we run.

You turn, ready to run back to your apartment and hide under your duvet.

Rid yourself of this shame that has suddenly consumed you, the Blue Wave that runs cold, but warm Ellie takes your hand, pulling it to her.

A gasp lodges in your throat, and Ellie’s speaking, spewing the truth at you with wild, green eyes.

“I did want to kiss you, fuck. I did. I did, I did---I do!” she brandishes the words like a weapon, planting it into Jackson, the first man on the moon.

“and I—probably should have waited for a better moment. But you were just—” she huffs, shaking her head at herself, holding your hand like it’s hers and she’s not really holding it, just, feeling it there, the constant feel and not feel of your limb, warm and fuzzy from under the skin.

You watch her swallow down a thousand eventualities, a thousand ways to phrase her thoughts.

Finally, “I do want to kiss you,” she concludes. After a beat, she flashes you a small Ellie smile, and Jackson isn’t cold anymore. It’s summer. “Okay,” you whisper, nodding. “Okay,” she copies. “Cool.” “Yeah,” another Ellie smile, “Cool.” “You wanna go back inside? I’m freezing.” “Yeah,” she nods, holding her/your hand, “Cool.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x female reader #tlou2 #tlou #the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams tlou2

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trashmouth-richie · 5 months

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𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥: 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤

𓆙 crazy! lilith! reader x eddie

𓆙 same au as this that will now be referred to as the lilith au

𓆙 summary: the beginning of how eddie met lilith. based on this ask from @serasvictoria “Loved Lilith crazy reader (so good!) and I’d like to read about the moment where Eddie first went “fuck, I’m into this.”” hope i did you proud 🥹💋 i like to think eddie met her and couldn’t stop thinking about her.

𓆙 tw: 18 + only, smut p in v unprotected, violence, blood, demon themes, soul mates connecting. nicknames, weed, drinking mentioned. both eddie and reader are over 18. Billy makes an appearance 🙄

𓆙 3.9k words

The bar stunk like it always did. BO seeping out from the uniforms of the guys fresh from their shift at the plant mixed with spilled keg beer. The stench wafted through the dank air creating a reeking stench that was custom for the Hideout, keeping the well lined pockets of Hawkins rich away from the hole-in-the-wall bar.

Eddie was in a mood tonight, and his friends could feel it. By nature, he was accustomed to breaking up fights with the drunks, offering whatever asshole with a clenched fist a joint if they would just leave it be. The Hideout was like a home to him, and he hated any sort of disturbance to the small peace the shitty bar had to offer.

But tonight? He didn’t know he would be the one to start a fight, especially not after seeing you walk through the front doors.

He had seen you there before. Always dressed like you deserved to be somewhere better, somewhere that didn’t smell like armpits and unwashed balls. Lips painted in a deep color but from the shitty lighting he never could tell if it was purple or black.

He watched from a distance as you shrugged off one piss drunk guy after another, each leaving with their tails tucked between their legs, muttering shit like crazy bitch, she’s fucking insane did’ya hear what she said to me? Eddie stood by and laughed, admiring the mysterious girl who wouldn’t give anyone a chance.

Setting up equipment last week Eddie’s eyes were trained on the time, having it down to a science on when you’d show up, and there you were. Rolling your eyes to the catcalls from the old timers and going straight to the bar, a glinted smile on your lips as you purred your order, one he had already memorized from watching you show up week after week. Eddie leaned back and hollered to Jeff, asking if he knew who you were.

Jeff said what he thought your name was, claiming you worked with his sister at the Hideaway, the diner that served beer and home style food, you were a senior maybe? But neither of them had seen you around before.

You were a mystery to him, and he was hooked. He looked for you in classes, down the orange and green brick painted hallways. Fuck, he even went to the Hideaway but could never find you there. It was almost as if you only existed in his dreams or at the Hideout.

Corroded Coffin wasn’t performing tonight, instead the four guys leaned over the sticky table in the back corner, their table, tossing quarters into a shot glass and shooting the shit. Well three of the four were having a good time, the other was quiet, brooding behind dark eyes.

You had walked in like you always did, 10 o’clock on the dot, only this time you weren’t alone.

Billy Hargrove? Really?

Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes, how fucking cliche could you be? Finding the first swinging dick in Hawkins with a loud car and immediately going on a date with him. Eddie was disgusted, but more so, jealous.

Hours ticked by, and beer after beer, one gut rot shot after another, Eddie’s jealousy brewed into pure hatred. His dark eyes bored into you, but you didn’t even notice.

He hated you. Hated your stupid smile, the way you kept giggling at Billy’s jokes. just wait til you see him naked, sweetheart, the laughing won’t stop there, he thought to himself.

Loathing the way your black painted nails curled into Billy’s denim jacket, no doubt he probably fed you a line about how he works out. Eddie’s eyes roll back again and he breathes heavily through his nose, sucking the last shot of whiskey through his teeth, letting the bitter taste melt on his tongue and burn with each fiery drop down his throat.

Trying to keep himself busy, he finds himself flicking open his switchblade, pressing the top of the blade into the black leather cushion, wishing it was Billy’s neck instead. He can’t hear what anyone is saying behind him, didn’t even notice that Gareth was talking about learning a new song. His full attention was on you.

Billy gets up from his bar stool, the noise from the drag of the legs on the floor scratches against Eddie’s skin, adding insult to injury. He shoots you a wink and makes his way to the back towards the bathroom.

Watching him disappear into the dark lit corner, Eddie stands on wobblier legs than he would have liked. Boots heavy and clunky as he stalks his way over to you. Not at all knowing what he was going to do or say, going on pure adrenaline.

Your perfume hits him first, a warm note of vanilla mixed with a tobacco hint of camels. The red top you’re wearing is cut low, showcasing your pretty neck and plunging deep into the cleavage of your tits. A black leather jacket sits on your shoulders, the zippers shining with the warm light.

Your eyelashes bat at him as he approaches your table, but you still don’t look his way, and he stands next to you like he’s known you for years, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

“I’ll take another one of these,” you say, pushing your empty glass towards him with your middle finger, “make it a strong one.”

“I don’t work here,” Eddie scoffs, moving your drink out of his way and placing an arm on the back of your chair, glaring down at you “but you already knew that.”

The air shifts when you look up at him, it’s heavier, thicker than peanut butter, and you almost choke at the way his Adam's apple bobs in his throat.

“What makes you think I would know that?”

Eddie shifts, the liquor on his breath is spicy and warm.

“Because I've seen you here before, and not once have you ordered a drink from me.”

A wicked grin coaxes its way to your lips and you cross your legs, the toe of your high heel touching Eddie’s knee, and you lean your elbow on the table closer into him.

“Stalking me big boy?”

“And if I was?” his voice is low, the ends of his hair sway as he dips into your space, eyes never leaving yours, making sure he was all you could see as he whispers, “something tells me you wouldn’t mind that.”

The toe of your shoe grazes his inner thigh and the tip of something hard, making the corner of your lip tease up as you pluck the stem of the cherry from your empty drink. Bringing it to your mouth, you never stop looking into his eyes, and his haven’t left yours either.

The flesh of the cherry breached your lips and you lick the bottom of it, humming at the taste of the grenadine and sour whiskey on your tongue, finally biting the cherry, you toss the stem behind you. Chewing softly on the sugary fruit and leaning back, Eddie’s eyes taking you in.

His ringed hand crawls up your stocking clad thigh, circling your soft skin, rubbing at the hem of your skirt.

“am I right, sweetheart?”

He doesn’t need you to say he’s correct because he already knows, your eyes speak for you, a dark glint to them, dripping with want, and he wouldn’t doubt if you were to open your legs that your panties would wet with a sweet heat he desperately needed to taste.

“You’re pretty cocky for a guy who’s been staring at me for months but has never said a word until tonight.”

It's Eddie's turn for silence when your pretty nails reach out to trace the handcuffs on his belt, shifting your legs so the left is now crossed over the right, each taking more and more from one another waiting for the first to break.

“Why tonight? hmm?” your nails rubbing against the metal and leather, thumb grazing his zippered crotch, getting a devil hint of what he has hiding beneath. “Didn’t like seeing me with someone else? Already putting your claim on me, huh?”

He didn’t need to answer because you already knew.

The first time you laid eyes on him he was playing the solo to Master of Puppets, the cold air seeped into your bones from your walk from the Hideaway, and you needed a drink after your shitty shift.

Your eyes met and it was instant, a primal heat that drew you in and kept you coming back, waiting impatiently. Watching from afar calculating his moves, the way he held himself so confidently, his lithe muscles rippling when carrying band equipment from the stage. The way his throat vibrated when he sang, the quick jerk of his fingers as they strummed each key. How sweaty his hair would get after his set, shit you were infatuated.

He dips low to you again, a hand landing on your hip, sending shivers to your spine.

“You’re lost, sweetheart.”

Confused, you look up at him, quirking an eyebrow, challenging him, “lost?”

His fingers squeeze gently at your hip, his other hand moving your chin so you can look at him directly, his thumb moving over your bottom lip, pulling it down and almost groaning as it pops back into place against your teeth, “yeah, you’re supposed to be with me.”

“Well well, if it isn’t the freak caught with his hands in the cookie jar.”

Neither of you look at Billy, the heat between you still strong, sweltering.

“Hargrove,” Eddie greets, eyes never leaving yours, “thanks man.”

Billy shoots you a look, fists clenched, “for what?”

Eddie stands up straight, hands leaving you to retreat into his jacket pocket, angling his shoulders back, “bringing my girl to me, seriously, I owe you.”

Billy smirks and chuckles, “your girl huh?”

“I didn’t stutter.”

Eddie dogged the first swing, ducking and jabbing a brass knuckled fist into Billy’s stomach, sending him backwards into a table behind him, peanuts and beer spray up across the bar.

Stalking towards Billy, the shine of Eddie’s brass knuckles gleam against his fist, matching the shine of the wink he shoots you, and he’s caught off guard when you re-cross your legs and lick your top lip, hooded eyelids flashing him a sinful look of lust.

He chuckles at the sight of you, how you’re not afraid of him, how you didn’t run, the way you look like you’re almost enjoying this. Fuck.

Billy’s boot kicks Eddie square in the jaw, blooding up his bottom lip, sending him tumbling back a few steps, giving Billy the upper hand.

Neither of them expect what comes next. Eddie didn’t notice you get up, planting your heels on the ground and grabbing the bar stool by the legs. He only heard the thud of Billy falling to the ground and the crack of splintered wood teetering across the ground, the remaining pieces of the stool tossed to your feet.

Heels echoing across the floor, you tiptoe around the wood kneeling down to grab Billy’s blond hair between your fingers, twisting as his head raises from the floor.

“Date’s over,” your voice is sweet with each word, almost pleasant in the delivery, “understand?”

“Fucking crazy bitch,” Billy spits.

The whip of a knife whizzes past your ear, catching on the meat of Billy’s hand, nailing him to the floor.

Billy gasps and grunts mumbling shit under his breath.

Turning your head you look up at the dark haired metalhead. His eyes are darker than they were all night, a twitch formed in one of his eyelids. The blood dripping from his chin was sticky against his pale skin. To anyone else in the bar he looked deranged, like a demon straight from hell here in a human form, but to you? He looked like a God, a fucking King.

The look in his eyes caused a pool to form between your legs, the black veil of iniquity clouded your vision, a certain wickedness emitted from him and you were drawn to it like a magnet.

He stomps to both you and Billy, bending down he reaches a hand over your back, grabbing ahold of your hip, making you stand up with him.

“Wrong answer.” Eddie grunts, his boot shoving the blade in further.

He’s taller than you expected him to be, his broad shoulders are rolled back and he peers down at you, a dimpled smirk on his lips.

Standing on tiptoes, you reach up to his face. His strong jaw ripples between clenched teeth under your fingers. Rubbing the cut on his bottom lip with your thumb, he doesn’t flinch, only breathes heavy when you smear the blood around, and pop it into your mouth. The devil’s smile on your lips as you hum around your thumb, the acidic burnt taste of his blood on your tongue.

He groans, squeezing your hips in his big hands, bringing you into him, his stiff cock pressed heavy against your middle.

“Wanna get outta here?” your fingers walk up against his chest, fingernails scratching down until they land on his belt, lightly yanking the leather towards you.

“Your place or mine?” His voice is low, hungry.

“I’m not picky.”

“didn’t think you were, c’mon sweetheart.”

Eddie grabs your hand and drags you through the front door, your laugh fills the night air, taking away any chill from it, your bodies serving as heaters. He opens the drivers door of his van and you get in climbing over the center console.

He climbs in behind you, almost choking when you throw a leg back over and sit firmly in his lap.

“Fuck.”

Your fingers work to the collar of his shirt, ripping it down the center, showing off his pretty porcelain skin etched with scrawls of a demon-like face and a black widow on his chest, heaving as he tries not to blow his load right there and then.

Eyes rake over him, followed by the scratch of your nails, he hisses and groans as your lips attach to his neck, licking sweet and warm under his ear, “about time you talked to me..”

Your hips move against him, his hands burning into the fabric of your skirt and lifting slightly, thumbs searing into your thighs, “looks like you just needed to get jealous, hmm?”

Eddie’s hands work your jacket from your shoulders, groaning as the neon light from the bar hits you, illuminating the delicate skin of your shoulders, and the tight strap from your bra, he moans and yanks you forward, hands full on your breasts as his fingers roll against your nipples. His lips perched to the column of your throat. Your moans filling the van when his tongue salves across your throat, working a hickey into your neck, “that’s what I thought big boy, mmm, you’re easy to read.”

His dick kicks up when the pad of his thumb hits a steel ball on either side of your nipples, and he bites hard into your neck, causing you to yelp and moan, enjoying the pleasured pain.

“course I was jealous,” Eddie groans against your skin, working his tongue along his teeth marks, “fuckin’ look at you, goddamn devil woman.”

Your hand works to his jaw, wrapping closed around his throat and shoving him back hard into the seat. Nose to nose with him, your tongue darting out to catch the flesh of his lip, whispering hot against his mouth as you press your wet cunt down into him, “you like that? The evil inside of me?”

His hand wraps around your throat, large rings cutting into your skin, pressing hard against the bite he put into your neck. Eyes rolling to white you hum a moan so pretty against his hand his dick kicks up again, straining beneath the denim.

He brings you close to him, lips ghosting over your own, “Like isn’t the right word.”

His lips crash into yours, a mix of blood, spit and clashing teeth. It’s primal, the way your mouths work together, licking, sucking, lapping at one another, hungry for more.

Your hands move feverishly against his belt, and his fingers waist no time shoving your skirt up higher, showing off the sheen from your pussy lips, slick and bare, no panties.

He groans when his fingers push past your puffy lips and circle your clit, trying to suck him in where you need him most.

“Fuck,” he chuckles, “you’re fucking soaked, Eddie get you all worked up?”

“Is that your name?” you quip, working his velvet thick cock from his jeans, spitting on the tip and rubbing it around with your thumb, you wrap your fingers around his shaft pumping him once, “looked more like a Diablo,” your hand works him again, “Lucifer…” you push his head through your slick folds, sinking down enough that the head of his cock disappears, “.. or daddy to me.”

Eddie rolls his eyes back into his head, biting his fist, and moaning loud, “fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”

You tut between your teeth, “not tonight, tonight you’re mine.”

Your full weight drops down onto his cock and you sigh a moan the same time Eddie groans and squeezes his eyes shut, and you take a second to catch your breath before you adjust yourself so you can circle your hips. your nails press into his chest again, leaving scarlet marks in your wake, his skin pulled from itself and under your fingers, and he can’t get enough,

The buckles on your bra straps are plucked like dandelion heads against the cup, threads frayed under Eddie's hands as your tits bounce from their confinements, pretty piercings glinting in the neon lights.

“Tell me,” you groan, your own hands pushing your tits together and biting your lip from the pure ecstasy that’s laced into Eddie’s cock, “tell me how good this is.”

“Fuck look at you, taking me so fuckin’ deep.” his thumb circles your clit as his hips buck up into you, eliciting more pretty moans that rattle the windows in the van, matching his grunts and sweat-stuck bangs. “should have, mm yeah shit just like that, fuck! don’t stop, scooped you up the first night I saw you.”

He wasn’t like the other lame dicks in Hawkins, this one seemed different, better. You knew from the moment you saw him that he could keep up with you, wouldn’t be turned away from your demon lust or the darkness that permeated through your skin. Just as Billy had said, this guy was a freak. Like you.

Eddie lifts you up and turns, slamming you into the seat so your face is pressed against the warm leather, ass angled up, pussy split open and weeping from his cock.

He works his dick between your folds, relishing in the way you try to suck him in greedily, chuckling as you pout and scowl when he teases you some more.

“what’s the matter pretty girl? You don’t like being teased?”

“no,” you whine as he does it again, laughing at your eager pussy and desperate cries. A hand lands hard on the fat of your ass and you jump under his hand, moaning and pushing yourself back into him, “more, fuck, please.”

That’s all Eddie needed to hear before he’s deep inside you again, your gummy walls clenching around him as he bottoms out, His large hand printed on your skin. “fuck you’re nasty, such a dirty slut aren’t ya?”

“yes, fuck.” your tongue licks the leather seat, eyes looking back to see the blackness cloud Eddie’s eyes and for a split second you swore there were horns on his head.

He pumps into you faster, met by your hand circling your clit, he leans forward to suck into your shoulder blade, licking up the back of your neck, whispering into your ear as his hips jack knife into you, “come for me, fuckin’ come for daddy.”

Wet floods your fingers and heat coils in your belly as your orgasm spreads, the back of Eddie’s seat has moon shaped indents on the left side as you claw into it, moaning against it.

His fingers are grabbing you hard enough it will leave bruises on your hips, he grunts into you, working you through your leg shaking high. “Did so good for me, yeah you like this cock? gripping me like a fuckin’ vice honey, ’m gonna come, where you want me?”

You twist beneath him, facing him to see his sweaty chest, hair sticking to his neck in places, dark eyes gleaming in a lust infused state of bliss, fat cock red and swollen. The demon of your dreams.

The makeup on your eyes were smudged from sweat and your face grinding into the seat, you lick your lips and eye the pre cum on his cock, your slick soaking his length, coating the course hair at the base. “I wanna know how we taste.”

Eddie groans, grabbing your waist roughly and adjusting you both carelessly to the back, shoulders knocking into the seats and whatever other bullshit was tossed into the void.

He kisses you harsh, fingers tweezed around your nipple piercing, groaning at your little moans as you bite his split lip and shove him onto his back. Peering down at him with soulless eyes you work your way down his body, tangling yourself in between his legs, you wrap your lips around his fat length.

The heady taste of your arousal and the brine of his precum mix on your tongue, marrying into a profound taste that could only be described as heaven and hell.

His hips wiggle beneath you, desperate for more of your mouth, you giggle before swallowing him into your throat in one single move, working your hands up and down his shaft, in tandem with your swirling tongue.

Groans replace your desperate moans from earlier, lewd sounds streak up the fogged fucked windows of the van, and it’s not long before Eddie is spilling into your mouth, muttering nonsense.

You suck him clean, and he hisses at your wicked tongue lapping around him.

“Fuck Lilith,” Eddie groans, sleepy little smile on his lips as he pulls you into his sweaty chest, skin to skin, “you’re out of this world.”

You quirk a brow and push his bangs back from his forehead, “that’s not my name, Eddie.”

“it should be,” he grins down at you, moving your neck to plant a kiss behind your ear, “it’s a variation of the Mother goddess of all demons… and after what we just did, fuck.” he grunts, squeezing your bare thigh and hoisting you higher up to him, “satan himself couldn’t tear you away from me.”

A wicked grin paints your lips, and you surprise yourself when you push them into Eddie’s, fingers wrapped tight around his neck.

Eddie was wrong, you weren’t lost, just missing a piece to your puzzle, needing someone to delve into the darkest part of your mind, to be enthused by your antics, applauding your wickedness. and that someone, was found at a smelly dive bar. Him.

Ave Satani

pls enjoy another story in the same au here

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#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson one shot

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mediumgayitalian · 1 month

Text

At around half past one, Nico gets a Feeling.

He gets feelings a lot. Nothing he can quantify, just something telling him that something is up, somethings wrong. Or something’s about to be. At this point, he’s learned to trust his intuition, based purely on the number of times it has saved his life; a number he’s long since given up counting. (He’s only ignored his gut feelings three times in his life: when Bianca went on her quest, when his father promised not to hurt Percy before the Titan War, and when he went looking for the Doors. He has learned his lesson.)

So when something at the bottom of his stomach tells him to get up, to check things out — he does.

He knows it could be nothing. (The last time he had a Feeling, it turned out that he had placed a book precariously on the edge of his desk, and it had been about to fall. Not exactly world-saving stuff.) But regardless, he steps out of bed, shoves his feet into his shoes, and creeps out of his cabin.

Camp is kind of beautiful at night.

There’s an eerie calmness to it without so many human disasters running about, and the quiet reflects that. All Nico can really hear is the hooting of owls in the distance, the chittering of nocturnal animals and monsters alike, the distant screeches of curfew harpies, and the pleasant crashing of the waves. The air is clean, when he inhales, and he takes the time to hold it in his lungs for a bit, imagining the sweet breath is healing his burned lungs, turning the scar tissue back to something flexible and normal. Whether or not it actually works, he doesn’t know, but it feels nice.

Under the light of the brightly shining new moon and billions of stars, he starts his patrol. Around his own cabin first — there’s nothing, as he expected, the warning doesn’t seem overwhelming like threats tend to be — and then he makes his way around the circuit, checking behind gardens and shrines and inside braziers. He hums quietly as he walks, something preppy and bright the Apollo kids have been hollering for days, and waves to Lady Hestia, sword heavy at his waist.

“Come sit,” she calls, patting the seat next to her.

Nico does.

“Haven’t seen you out at night in a while.”

He hums, toneless this time, leaning back on his hands and mirroring her gaze at the sky.

“Been sleeping, for once.”

“I’m glad.”

He smiles, knowing that she means it. He watches out of the corner of his eye as she picks up his sword, sliding it from his belt loop, and uses it to stoke the flames. She doesn’t seem afraid of it, or wary. To her it’s just a stick of metal. It’s nice.

“You have you been, my Lady?”

She pokes at the embers a few more times, scooping a few to balance at the tip of the blade for a while. It glows with the heat, and he knows he’ll have to sharpen it tomorrow, but he doesn’t mind. Maybe he can do it while Will is in the archery range. It’ll give him an excuse to be at the armoury at the same time, anyway.

“I’ve been well.” She breathes deeply, small smile pulling at her face. “It’s calmer, and more people wave to me. I like it.”

“Good.”

She dismisses him a few minutes later, sending him off with a promise to chat again soon. She doesn’t need to worry about him promising — he makes a point to sit with her at least once a week — but it’s nice to know someone wants his company, so he appreciates it. He leaves with a wave, walking towards the eastern half of the cabins.

Nothing’s amiss. He can hear campers snoring, and see the odd reading light. Malcolm catches his eye as he walks past the Athena cabin and winks, sending a cheeky salute when he sees the sword held loosely in his hands. So far, everything seems fine. He’s beginning to think the Feeling might have simply been about Lady Hestia, so he decides to do one last check around the Big House and then head back.

Of course, that’s where the issue is.

The infirmary lights are always on. They’re dimmer in the night, more of a glow than anything, but there’s an extra brightness streaming out from the windows, and when Nico peeks inside, he sees Will, standing with his back turned at the nurse’s station.

He takes a moment to check his strength, making sure he has the energy for it — dinner last night was pho and he had three bowls, he most definitely does — and sinks into the shadows by the door. He materializes back in the little alcove by the bandage & wraps cabinet, lurking silently while he blinks the dizziness away.

The first thing he registers is soft singing.

He’s facing Will, now, and can see the glow coming from his hands, enveloping a bowl of some kind. He has both hands coated in some dusky pink substance, massaging and gently pounding it against the sides of the bowl, working it through with great care. As his voice gets higher, the glow gets brighter, fading as he dips lower. He sings something about hills and meadows and the breeze, about wing-song, about the sound of flower stems bending in the wind. For a while Nico stands, listening to the melodious ancient Greek, swaying with every pitch and hold. It’s captivating.

Will is almost haunting when he heals.

There’s a divinity in him — in all of them — but he glows when he sings. Not just his hands, and sometimes his head if he puts enough power in his words, but there’s an almost shimmer to the air around him, a shining warp. His skin gets clearer, and his hair goes more metallic, almost, like spun gold rather than blonde. His freckles make his skin into an inverse replica of the night sky, dark specks surrounded by bright empty between them. His long fingers pluck through bright strands of light like a harpist strums their chords; lightly, carefully, skillfully; like a braider weaves their hair. There’s an undeniable age to his magic, a practice that’s visibly replicated millions of times over thousands of years, as if every healer who has come before him links their arms with his, breathes their strength in his lungs. Sometimes, when he does something truly unbelievable, amazingly beyond reason, he flickers — his orange camp shirt fades into a white chiton, or long robes, or a white coat, or a blue tunic. Watching him heal is like watching the sunrise — breathtaking and unique, every time, but powerful in its cyclic archaism.

It takes Nico a long time to realise Will is swaying.

Snapped out of his trance, he begins to notice Will’s long, slow blinks, the unsteady way he stands, the weight he has leaned on the counter. Even his face looks plainly exhausted under the glow, face pillow-creased and eyes bruised, hair mussed, limbs leaden. Footsteps as silent as he can manage, Nico creeps over to the schedule posted by the door, scanning through the scrawled pen ink.

He curses quietly. Will is not supposed to be awake.

There are really only three people who can work the infirmary to its fully capacity, barring Chiron. Kayla, Austin, and Will are the only ones who can magically heal, as much as the volunteers are imperative, so when the camp is in full swing one of them must be stationed at all times. That’s how Will sets it up. A bit of a waste of time, he acknowledges, but Nico knows he has memorized every time a camper who should have been saved. He carries far too much guilt to ever let it happen again, as inconvenient as his rules may be.

Night shift, though, is a need-be basis. If the infirmary is as empty as it is right now, then there truly is no need to keep one of the three of them awake outside their circadian rhythm, staring at nothing. Instead, they take shifts in the on-call room — asleep, but prepared should anything go wrong, should a monster chase a new camper at an odd hour. It’s Will’s turn for on-call. It’s two in the morning. He should be asleep.

And, yet.

Nico recognizes the look in his eyes. There’s a — frailty, to them, a deep-seated, animalistic fear, one he recognises from the hours after his own night terrors. A single-minded panic that cannot be unseated in any logical way, cannot be comforted with any gentle hands.

Nico handles his fear with slashing swords and bruised knuckles. Will, he knows, handles his fear with obsessive, endless preparation.

Knowing full well nothing is going to drag him away from his focus bar actual cardiac arrest, Nico walks right by him. Will doesn’t move. He settles behind him in the old, creaky leather office chair, curling his legs under him and resting his head on the soft arm. He watches Will, watches the almost machine-like movement to his kneading arms, and falls back asleep to his humming.

———

“…Nico?”

He wakes up warm and a little cramped, in the same position he fell asleep. Sun is streaming on from the many issues, blocked from burning his eyes by Will’s hunched frame, facing towards him now, hands and shoulders shaking with equal violence.

“What time is it?”

His voice is croaky and wrecked from hours of singing. Nico is willing to bet his throat is burned as badly as his hands, cooked from non-stop, sun-borne glowing. The divinity that had emanated from him before has abandoned him and he looks young, lost.

“Early,” Nico says softly. He unfolds himself from the chair, stretching slightly — gods, he is going to ache today — and wraps a slow, careful hand around Will’s wrists. “Probably around six, if I have to guess.”

“I don’t remember waking up.”

“That’s okay.”

“I’m tired.”

“That’s okay.”

His breathing is heavy, laboured.

“I don’t —”

Nico squeezes gently. “It’s okay, Will.”

Will swallows and says nothing.

“Come on.”

Carefully, letting Will’s stiff joints set the pace, Nico guides him out of the infirmary. The sun shines brighter as soon as he steps outside, but he doesn’t seem to notice bar a tiny, almost imperceptible flinch at the change in lighting. Nico switches from holding his wrists to laying a hand on the small of his back, half-worried he’s going to fall over.

Luckily, he makes it to the Apollo Cabin upright, although the stairs take them a while. The hinges of the old screen door creak as Nico pushes it open, and he sees both Kayla and Austin, up and dressed, jump.

“…Will?” Kayla asks softly, eyebrows creased in concern. She walks over to him when he doesn’t answer, frozen still, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Will leans — almost hesitantly — into the touch. The same blankness from before clouds his eyes, although this time there’s less of the fear.

“Hey.” Nico walks over to stand in front of him, waiting patiently for him to meet his eyes. In the minutes it takes, he hears Austin pad over, standing opposite to Kayla, hands clenching and unclenching like he can’t decide what to do with them. “You think you can sleep?”

Will doesn’t answer verbally, but drifts after a moment to his bed. Nico follows, helping him out of his shoes and shirt. After a beat of hesitation, Austin hurries over, turning down Will’s sheets and helping him crawl in. Soft guitar music begins to play, and when Nico looks over Kayla is fiddling with the CD player, turning the dials carefully. Without much fanfare, Will’s eyes flutter closed, and his breathing slows to something deep and even. His twitching fingers still.

“I don’t think today’s an activity day,” Nico murmurs. “I checked up on him a while after midnight; he’d been at it for hours. He didn’t stop ‘til sunrise.”

Kayla rubs harshly at her eyes. “Fuck.”

“He’ll be okay,” Austin whispers. He runs a gentle knuckle over Will’s forehead, then turns his careful, imploring gaze to Nico. “You kept an eye on him?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

Nico inclines his head. “Had a feeling.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Kayla admits. “He was —” She trails off, staring at something in the left half of the cabin — the empty half. “He was like this after the Titan War, too. I think he spoke maybe two words for the entirety of September.”

Nico almost can’t imagine it. The very thought of it makes something twinge in his chest, clench in his stomach.

“We’ll figure it out.” He nods, to convince himself as much as Kayla and Austin, who look to him with way more trust than he deserves. “We won’t let it — it won’t get that bad. We’ll help, and if we can’t figure it out we’ll get help. It won’t be as hard as last time.”

It won’t be as hard as last time because there won’t be twelve shrouds, Nico doesn’t say, but he doesn’t need to. Both Kayla and Austin nod, looking at their sleeping brother with firm resolution.

“This time, we’ll be there.”

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Note

Absolutely no pressure Leah but I’m really keen for a part three of that Hangman x Mitchell Reader story.

Part One, Part Two, Masterlist

This took off and I wasn’t expecting to receive the feedback and the support for this I did so thank-you for that.

Warnings: Smut. Jake Seresin x younger!Mitchell reader. Age gap.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Jake can hear the hollering and the wolf whistles echoing throughout the men’s locker room before he sees you rounding the corner. He knows it’s you because he hears one of the new recruits he still doesn’t know the name of purr out your callsign when he sees you push the door nearly clean off its hinges. Angry evident in your eyes as you scan the room full of half naked, towel clad Aviators.

“Iris—you know this is the men’s locker room sweetheart.”

“Bite me—“ You snarl. Making your way with quick heist through the men getting changed into their flight gear and showering after their morning workouts.

“Fuck—“ Jakes jumping up in a panic. He doesn’t know where to go so he just stands there looking all kinds of stressed. Just as he’s about to duck into the nearest vacant shower, you spot him and he spots you. “Ah crap—“

“You!” You’re pointing at him from across the space. “You didn’t tell me you were an instructor!” You shout through gritted teeth as you take a few steps Jake's way. But he’s smart enough to keep the bench between you and himself as he steps away. Keeping a healthy distance from the forbidden fruit he wasn’t allowed to touch again. You. But oh how he wished he could. “God, I should have put two and two together when you asked Rooster for his stupid shirt!”

“You didn’t tell me that you’re Maverick's daughter until you’d sucked my soul from my dick!” Jake is just as irate as you are. “Do you know what hell he’ll do to me if he finds out!” Jakes whisper shouting at you through gritted teeth. Pulling at his own hair as he does so. The stupid vein in his neck is bulging. He's so stressed. “I defiled Pete Mitchell’s daughter! God, I can kiss my career goodbye.”

“What about my career huh? The second any of those guys find out that I fucked one of my instructors they will never take me seriously!” There’s a pause that falls between you as you stare at one another, drinking in the sight of each other—there was undeniably sexual tension between you and Jake Seresin. But knowing what you know now and who he is and who he’s strictly supposed to be to you, there’s simply nothing you can do to scratch that insatiable inch.

“So we sweep this whole thing under the rug?” Jake suggests and you have to admit it’s not the worst idea in the entire world. “We start over, pretend like we didn’t, you know, fuck—“

“We don’t tell anyone? Ever?” You added, sticking your hand out for Jake to shake as he came out from behind the other side of the bench. “Except for Rooster because that stupid bird already knows.”

“We put this whole thing behind us, we don’t say a single word to a single soul.” And there’s a second, a second where as Jake Seresin reaches his hand out to shake yours—you feel a jolt of electricity course through your body when he touches you. You swallow heavily, shaking on the deal that you’d never tell a soul about what happened between you two.

Hangman feels it two, he’s looking down at you as you stand there shaking hands in the men’s locker room for an awkward amount of time, but what’s more awkward is the fact he’s got a raging hard on and half a mind to push you back into the vacant shower to feel you just one more time.

“You should probably get out of the men’s locker room now—“ Jake smirks, pulling you close by the hands that’s wrapped in his, he smiles at the little oof that escapes your mouth when you collide with his chest. “Incase daddy dearest catches you in here.”

“The last person I called daddy was you, Lieutenant Commander Seresin.” Fuck, that made Jake feral.

“We shouldn’t do this again, it would be bad right?” Jake asks, he wants to hear you say it, that you want him, that you’ll risk your career to fuck him again, because he’s debating putting his on the line just to feel you wrapped around him again.

“Good and bad are just artificial constructs.” You explain, looking at Jake in a silent moment before his lips are crashing against yours in a feverish lustful manner. Your hand’s immediately make quick work at the button on his flight suit as he leads you back into the shower—pushing you against the wall as his hands cup at your cheeks and keep you still as he slips his tongue into your mouth. “This is fucking crazy—“

“Don’t think, just do me—“ Jake mumbled back as articles of clothing that had been rendered useless were removed and tossed haphazardly to the floor of the shower.

There wasn’t much time, but Jake made sure to sink to his knees before you as he guided one of your legs up over his shoulder. Two fingers danced at your entrance, collecting your arousal as he looked up through hooded eyes to revel in the sight of your jaw going slack.

“Shit you’re soaked, you get off on the fact that you fucked your superior?”

“I get off on the idea of bringing grown men to their knees.” You corrected Jake as he connected his lips around your clit and sucked a perfect pressure, slipping his two arousal soaked fingers into your dripping cunt. “Shhhhit—“

“Shh—gotta be fucking quiet this time.” Jake pumped his thick digits inside you, curling his fingertips against your velvet walls before he pulled away, rising to his feet once again as he pumped himself a few times. “If I fuck you, you gotta be quiet.”

“Yes sir—“ You agreed, watching as Jake ducked to pick you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as the head of his cock sat nestled against your core. All he had to do was push himself in. “I'm going to hell for this aren’t I?”

“Yes, yes you are because I’m so young and impressionable and easily manipulated into fucking much older, more experienced men that my dad would just love to smear across the tarmac if he found out what you were making me do—Ahh!” Jake didn’t appreciate your attitude, but instead of biting back, he slammed his length into you. “Fuck!”

“You’re gonna get us caught if you don’t be quiet.” Jake groaned, kissing your collarbone as you whimpered in his arms. “Fuck you feel so good.”

“Move, move!” You begged. “Jake move.”

“Ah Ah, who am I?” Jake had already begun to pull back, painfully slow. He was waiting for you to say exactly what he wanted you to say before thrusting his hips back against you. “Who am I Lieutenant Iris Mitchell?”

“You’re—“ At the sound of your whimpering Jake slammed back into you, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth as the shower stall wall he had you pressed against shook with the force he pounded into your with. Watching as your eyes rolled and you moaned out into the palm of Jake's hand before he let you speak. Fucking you slow and steady. “You’re Lieutenant Commander Seresin—“

“This is gonna be our little secret isn’t it?” Jake asked as he dug his fingertip into the flesh of your hips, needing it like dough. “Filthy fucking girl.”

“I could ruin your life.” You remind Jake and that sends him flying towards an orgasm he couldn’t control. “I could ruin everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve, all I have to do is tell Mev that you fucked me in the men’s locker room before training and he’d have you—“ Jake fucked into your harder as you slipped a hand down between you, playing with your clit as you felt Jake loosing control. “Oh god! Don’t stop!”

“I already know you’re gonna be the fucking death of me.” Jake groaned as he fucked you deep, using your pretty soaked pussy to get himself off. “Fuck, fuck, fuck you’re so tight—“

“I’m right with you—“ You babble, playing with yourself as Jake's hold on you tightens to a point you know where his fingertips are? they’ll leave bruises in their wake. “Jake, come inside me.” It’s what sends him barreling, he’s done for, he’s a goner, a fool. Jake groans and he kisses you deep and he feels his orgasm pooling at the base of his shaft before he’s spilling into you, feeling your cunt flutter around him as you meet him at the top. Coming with him just as there’s a knock on the shower door.

“Iris!” It’s Rooster, he knows you're in there with Jake. “Mavs looking for you.”

“Shit!” You groan, leaning your forehead against Jake's exposed chest as he’s letting you down slowly. “Crap I gotta go—“

“Hey.” Jakes tilting your chin up, looking into your eyes to see if he can spot even an ounce of regret. He can’t. “Tell me how you got your callsign?”

“It’s an acronym.” You smile, biting your bottom lip as Rooster knocks on the shower door again.

“Your literally gonna get the poor man killed Iris, get out of the fucking stall!”

“What’s the acronym stand for?” Jake askes, not sure if he’s ready to hear it. You just beam up at him, kiss him softly and slowly and ever so seductively before you pull away. Crouching down to pick up your flight suit and throw it over your shoulder. Turning on your heels as you unlocked the shower door, opening it.

“Oh god—“ Braldey closed his eyes as you stood there completely naked, your flight suit over your shoulder, panties and undershirt in your hand. “No, no, put some fucking clothes on—“

“Jesus Christ—“ Jake moves out of Roosters line of sight, he’s fully exposed as he cups his junk and looks at you like you're crazy as you look back at Jake over your shoulder, he’s trying not to stare at your ass.

“Iris, it stands I Require Intense Supervision.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

#jake hangman x y/n #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin smut #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman top gun #hangman x you #hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction

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pinkanonwrites · 1 year

Note

Idea for a little angst. Leona has a nightmare about his s/o (fem or gn preferably) becoming an unfortunate victim to King’s Roar’s effect. Maybe having flashbacks to when he overblotted in a sense? Up to you!

Ohhhhhhh this is a PRIME angst prompt, thank you very much for this incredibly ouchie idea.

GN!Reader, ANGST, comfort

"Herbivore?"

In the center of Night Raven College's Spelldrive stadium, Leona stood alone. There was no grass beneath his feet crosshatched with play lines and goal marks, just cracked, dry soil. There were no cheers in the stands, no holler of food vendors or trumpet of pep bands, just a blistering, eerie silence. As the wind whistled through the empty field, little spirals of sand danced upon the breeze to land near his feet.

"Howl? Felmier?... Ruggie?"

No response.

He trod carefully across the arid dirt, moving towards the entrance of the field. Surely there he would find someone waiting, Ruggie or another Savanaclaw student or you, you had to be here somewhere. He was not afraid. he was not.

But dipping through the doorway and peering into one of the locker rooms revealed an equally eerie sight. No students, no coaches. Just heaps of dry, yellow sand. The alternate team's locker room revealed the same sight. So did the hallway out into the stadium entry, the vendor booths that lined the cobblestone path, the winding road leading back up to the school proper.

But along that road, facing away from him, finally he saw you.

"Herbivore!"

"...Why?"

Despite your distance, he could hear you perfectly. He tried to move towards you but it felt like her were wading through tar, each step a herculean effort. He tried to call for you again but found his voice dry and lifeless in his throat.

"I didn't ask to be here. I didn't know this would happen. But still... I just wanted to help. Why wouldn't you let me help?"

He was moving forward, he knew he was, so why did it seem like you were just as far away?

"This isn't even my home, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Is that so wrong? Why do you hate me so much?"

'I don't. I don't hate you. I never have, not really.' He tried to say, but the only noise he could make was a single choked rasp.

"Why would you do this to me? I just wanted to help."

He blinked. That's all he did, just a single blink. But suddenly he was upon you, crowding your space, a single clawed hand wrapped effortlessly around your neck. You didn't thrash, didn't scream, didn't make any attempt to pull away. Leona couldn't move either, frozen in time, watching in horror as the delicate skin around your neck began to flake and chip and dissolve to powdery sand. The tears in the corners of your eyes turned to dust before they could even roll down your cheeks.

"I JUST WANTED TO HELP!"

Leona jolted awake to blackness, the dull tick of an alarm clock sitting on his nightstand. He was coated in sweat, panting, throat dry and hoarse. He felt along the left side of his bed, palms thumping frantically over the blanket-clad shape sharing his space. The only one he'd allow to share his space.

"Hrrmph?- Ow, ow! Shit, Leona! You scared the hell out of me!" You grumbled, wrestling blindly out of your blanket to try and protect yourself from his swatting hands. You were here. Thank the seven, you were here. You were here, beside him, and he hadn't destroyed you. He hadn't ruined the one good thing that life had given him, not yet.

He hadn't, but he almost did. He almost did, some time ago.

The air was forced out of your body in a rushed whoof! as Leona bowled into you, draping himself entirely over your still sleep-addled form. Before you could protest or even question what was happening you felt the rasp of his sandy tongue against your temple, peppered kisses in between soothing licks. Was he... Grooming you? Leona never groomed you. He rarely even let himself be groomed by his own family. And yet here he was, pressing himself into you like he was afraid you were going to vanish from beneath his grasp.

"Herbivore... kitten..." He mumbled in between kisses, reverent, relieved. you let a hand come up to rest on his cheek and he stifled a sound that you could have sworn was a tiny sob.

"Hey, hey, I'm right here big cat. I'm not going anywhere. What's all this about?" You ran your thumb blindly back and forth over the curve of his cheekbone, and he melted weakly into the touch.

"...Right, right. You're not. Never go anywhere. I won't let you, not without me." Slowly the two of you sank back into the warmth of your shared mattress, Leona pressed against you like a second skin. "You're stuck with me now, aren't ya? Don't even think of... Of goin' anywhere."

As his words began to drift into exhausted mumbles you pressed yourself as close as you could into his warm side, letting him wrap an arm over your body and pull you into his embrace. You murmured a soft placation into his chest, hoping that whatever brought on this sudden influx of emotion out of your partner, it would be enough to soothe it.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twst #disney twst #twst x reader #twst imagines #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar imagines #leona kingscholar angst #my writing #angst #comfort #anon

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wh0re43van · 3 months

Text

Jealousy- (Dom!Peter Maximoff X Reader)

Summary: You and Peter are having a nice day at the river when you run into an old ‘friend’.

(This was a request, but I lost it. I believe the request said something like: “Dom Peter Maximoff. That’s the request”)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: smut, throat fucking, slight choking, gagging

A/N- y’all I’ve been having such bad writers block and I just started college again so please bare with me 😭🙏🏻

My body buzzes with warmth as the mid summer sun beams down on me. In the distance there’s a group of young teens giggling and splashing as they take turns jumping off the rope swing into the river, but their joys are muffled by the newest Pink Floyd cassette playing in Peters boombox.

Suddenly, I feel a cold blob of something plop onto my stomach. I gasp, quickly sitting up in confusion. My questions are answered when I see a chuckling Peter standing above me with two overfilled ice cream cones in his hands.

“Oops,” he grins as he sits down on his towel beside me, placing the cone in my hand. Peters solution to the mess on my stomach is to lean down and lick it off. I laugh, attempting to shove him away from me.

“Ew Peter,” I chuckle as he licks up the last of the ice cream.

“Tastes like tanning oil,” he smiles while licking his lips. I just shake my head, looking at my dork of a boyfriend with pure adoration.

The soft breeze blows Peters silver locks around on his head as he lap at his sweet treat. The melted desert drips from his hand onto his toned chest and blue swim trunks.

“Babe, you’re a mess,” I laugh as I try to eat mine as neatly as possible, but the frozen delicacy is no match for the summer heat.

“Hm, guess we’ll just have to clean off in the river,” he smirks as he finishes the last of his cone. With a fwip he’s in the water.

“Hey!” I holler after him with a giggle. I set the ice cream down before standing to my feet.

“Come on y/n you’re so Slow!” Peter shouts over the sound of the rushing water. I wipe my sticky hands on his towel then grab a scrunchie to pull my hair back before our swim.

“Y/n?” I hear an unfamiliar voice behind me. I turn with a puzzled look, my hands behind my head as I braid my hair back. I’m shocked by who I see.

“Oh my god! Elijah? I don’t believe it,” I say in disbelief, staring at the boy I haven’t seen since freshman year. He smiles, seemingly pleased that I take the time glance over his now muscular body.

“I look pretty good, huh?” He laughs confidently. His red swim trunks don’t leave much to the imagination as he does a spin, allowing me to see how mature he’s become. He flexes his dark umber toned arms as he holds his head up with pride. The sun shines down on his hair, each tight raven curl lays neatly beside the other as they hang down in his face.

I gulp, feeling a bit guilty for staring.

“Uh, yeah! You look great, dude,” I laugh awkwardly as I look around for Peter.

“You here by yourself? That’s awfully dang-“ Elijah begins but is quickly cut off by Peter who seems to appear out of thin air.

“Nope,” my boyfriend says with a smug grin as he flings his arm around me, much tighter than normal. If I didn’t know better, id think Peter was jealous. I’ve been dating Peter for almost six years and I’ve never seen him so much as look twice at any guy who flirts with me.

‘Let ‘em,’ he always scoffs. ‘I’m the one who gets to undress you,’ Peter knows that no other guy has a chance with me; he actually finds it quite amusing to see guys get horribly rejected by me. Peter is a very confident guy, but right now his jaw is tensed out of annoyance and he’s gripping onto me as if Elijah might tear me from his grasp at any moment.

“Peter, long time no see,” Elija smiles at an unamused Peter.

“Yeah, last time I saw you, you were trying to sabotage my relationship with Y/n,” Peter says flatly, shrugging his shoulders with his lips pulled into a sarcastic grin.

‘Awkward,’ I cringe internally as I remember the last week we spent with Elijah before he moved away.

The two boys and I were best friends since 6th grade, so when Peter decided he wanted to confess his feeling for me, he spoke about it to Elijah- the best friend who he wasn’t in love with. Elijah came to me the next day, telling me that Peter was going to ask me out as a prank, so I should say no- which made me extremely angry since I’d had a crush on Peter for years.

Long story short: Peter was not going to ask me out as a joke, he was completely serious and Elijah almost ruined his chance with me because he wanted me to himself.

“Oh come on peter, that was like four years ago,” Elijah scoffs as he crosses his arms over his chest. He’s right. That was teenage drama that I’ve long forgotten about, however this seems to still be a sore spot for Peter who is now scowling at our old friend.

“whatever man just get lost,” Peters voice drops, his tight grip on my shoulder never faltering as his eyes shoot bullets into Elijah. This is a side to peter that I rarely see, and I cant help but notice the butterflies that are starting to flutter in my stomach.

“Woah quicksilver takes an awfully long time to get over his hurt feelings,” Elijah laughs as he keeps his confident stature. Peters eyes narrow and his face becomes flushed with anger. I open my mouth in attempt so deescalate the situation, but I don’t have time. “y/n is over it,” he smirks, winking in my direction. Before I can defend myself, the wind is knocked out of me.

With a fwip, we’re in the shower cabin. The hot damp air in invades my lungs as I try to catch my breath.

“Peter!” I groan as I pull myself out of his arms. He knows I hate when he does that. “What the hell has gotten into you? I’ve never seen you so-“ my complaint is cut short as Peter smashes his lips to mine. His hand grips the back of my head, keeping me as close to him as possible. His other hand trails up my back.

“You’re mine,” Peter growls against my lips as he backs me against the wall. My stomach drops at the possessive tone coming from my boyfriend. I wrap my arms around his neck and manage to pull my lips away from him enough to catch my breath.

“Of course Peter,” I pant as he trails wet kisses up my jawline and down my neck. I sigh in content, leaning my head to give him more access. I want to pull away, but I cant bring myself to do it.

“All of you,” he says in a low tone, his dominant eyes locking with mine as he removes my bikini top in one quick flash. I gasp as his mouth instantly goes to work on my breast.

“Peter not here! What if someone comes in? Or hears us!” I resist verbally but do very little to actually push him off. Instead, I entangle my fingers into his silver hair.

“Good,” is all he mumbles against my breast as he leaves dark hickies on the soft skin. I know this is wrong. I know we shouldn’t be doing this in such a public place, but I’ve never seen this look in Peters eyes before. It’s not often that he takes charge, and the way that he has me pinned against the wall leaves my knees weak in anticipation.

Peters mouth switches to my other breast as he uses his knees to spread my legs. His skilled fingers pull my bikini bottoms to the side and he immediately dips into my heat, moaning at how wet I already am.

“That bastard wishes he could see you like this,” Peter mumbles under his breath as he watches his finger slide in and out of me. I let out a small whimper, biting my lip to stifle the sound as much as possible.

With his other hand, he grabs my face squeezing my cheeks so hard that my lips pucker, before he leans down almost touching his nose to mine.

“I want to hear every sound that comes out of this pretty little mouth,” he growls lowly as he runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “Do you understand?” He pants as he stares in my eyes with an animalistic glint, his fingers still pumping into me.

“Y-yes,” I gulp, letting out a loud moan when his thumb brushes my clit.

“Atta Girl,” Peter smirks before he moves his hands to my thighs, picking me up so I can straddle him with my back against the wall.

After I wrap my legs around his waist, he begins to grind against my bare core. The friction sends a surge of pleasure through my body.

“What Are You waiting for?” I ask breathlessly as Peters eyes scan my body.

“Tell me what you want,” he demands lowly as his hand gently grips my throat. My heart flutters at my boyfriends unusual- and extremely hot- dominant demeaner

“I-I want you to fuck me,” I stutter as I stare down his arm into his dark eyes. The corner of his lips turn up into a smirk before he drops his swimming shorts.

Peter removes his hand from my throat to bring his fingers up to his mouth, wetting them before grazing over my heat. I tense at the contact, letting out a small whimper. My heart pounds in anticipation as he lines himself up with my entrance.

“I want him to hear,” peter growls before he buries himself inside of me in one swift thrust. I cry out at the sudden feeling of him filling me up. Peter moves hips slowly, allowing me to adjust. Soon enough, his hips are rocking against me in a steady motion as his fingers dig into the soft skin on my hips.

“fuck peter,” I whimper out as he grazes my gspot with every stroke. Everything about this situation- the risk of getting caught, peter completely dominating me, the way hes hitting right where I need him- has me more aroused than I’ve ever been.

“Louder,” Peter grunts, staring at me with stern eyes as he brings a thumb to my clit.

“Fuck Peter!” I let out a pathetic shriek as he begins to vibrate his thumb against my sensitive bud. I throw my head back, squeezing my eyes, allowing myself to get lost in the immense pleasure flooding through my body.

“Much better,” peter chuckles as he speeds up his hips. Peter looks down at me, biting his bottom lip so hard that I fear he may draw blood. Small grunts and low groans mange to slip out as he pounds into me.

“Im so close baby please don’t stop,” I whine as my fingers grip his hair so tight that my knuckles turn white.

“Say my fucking name and cum for me,” he growls into my ear before biting on my neck, sucking hickies onto the sensitive skin. I cant think well enough to form a response as I clench around him, feeling pure euphoria flood my body.

“Fuck! Yes! Peter oh my god!” I moan loudly, I don’t even know what I’m saying. At this point, Peter has literally fucked me senseless. I’m putty in his hands for him to use in any way he’d like. I lay against the wall, Peter now solely holding me up as I attempt to collect myself. I open my eyes as he slowly pulls out of me, chuckling as he sets me down onto my shaky legs.

“Peter… I-“ I just stare at my boyfriend as my release starts to drip down my thigh. Peter smirks as he pumps his still rock hard cock, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Get down and open up baby,” he says gently with a kiss to my forehead as he pushes on my shoulder. I obey, meeting his gaze as I get to my knees. I know that I’m drunk off lust because any other time I would not have my bare ass so close to the floor of a public showering cabin but with the way Peter’s looking at me, the thought of resisting doesn’t even cross my mind.

With my chest still heaving a bit, I take his length into my hand, stroking it slowly before kitten licking the tip. Peter throws his head back with a grunt as I slide him into my mouth, my tongue tracing up the bottom of him. I wrap my arms around his thighs as I begin to move my head back and forth. Peter smirks, gently pushing some loose strands of hair out of my face.

“That’s it baby. You’re doing so good,” he hums as he begins to move his hips in rhythm to my face. Peter looks angelic as the sheen of sweat across his forehead glistens in the single beam of sun cutting through dimness of the cement room. His toned chest heaves as his dark eyes watch his cock violate my mouth, slipping deeper into my throat with each thrust. Tears begin to form in eyes as he slams into my throat, continuously slipping past my gag reflex

“I’m the only one who gets to use you like this,” Peter growls as his hands grip onto the back of my head. I do my best to nod and mumble a ‘mhm’ as drool begins to escape the corners of my mouth, dripping down my chest as he fucks my throat. My core still aches for him. I’ve had my release already, but the way that he’s speaking to me and using me is something far out of the ordinary for him- I cant get enough. I manage to pull away to gasp for breath as I begin to get light headed.

“Please,” I pant out hoarsely, tears and spit streaming down my face as I desperately kiss all over peters length between breaths. “Cum on my face baby please. Im yours. Please peter,” I beg breathlessly as I massage his balls. Peter lets out a whimper, seemingly more than excited to hear my pleads. His hand grabs onto his length, stroking himself closer to his climax. I sit back on my heels, opening my mouth, holding my tits- now covered in my own saliva from his ruthless face fucking- up, wanting nothing more than for him to cover me in his cum.

“God you’re so fucking sexy,” Peter groans as his hand moves in a blur along his length. He throws his head back and lets out a stream of profanities and groans as he shoots his hot seed allover my face and tits. “Jesus Christ,”’ Peter groans when he looks down to see the mess he’s made of me. I giggle, leaning forward, licking up his cock one last time to make sure I’ve gotten every drop. Peter watches me in awe as he attempts to catch his breath, grabbing my shoulders and gently pulling me to my feet.

“Do you feel better now?” I tease as I scoop some off his cum off my breast, bringing the salty liquid to my mouth. Peter groans at the sight.

“Much better,” he laughs as he reaches for his swim trunks. “You wouldn’t mind walking past Elijah like that would you?” he laughs as he grabs a paper towel by the sink.

“What? Half naked and covered in your cum?” I raise an eyebrow at him as he picks up my bikini top.

“Well, maybe put this on first,” he smirks, handing me the thin material. I laugh as he wipes me off so I can get dressed. The mood is back to its usual easy-going vibe and my calm and collected Peter has returned- but I can assure you that we will be revisiting this side of him quite often

Tags: @pretzel-bunnie @slvt4jamesmarch

#evan peters #evan peters smut #ahs cult #ahs hotel #jimmy darling smut #kai anderson #kit walker smut #ahs asylum #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #quicksilver smut #quicksilver #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff #tate langdon smut #tate langdon #kai anderson smut

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genshinluvr · 11 months

Text

Sick Days

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: Eighteen out of twenty-five men are sick, and you (and the other seven men who aren't sick) try to take care of the sick men who have fallen ill. Just when you thought they were already needier, they're even needier when they're sick.

Note: Just a mini-fic of the majority of the Genshin men being sick. I typed this at 2-3 AM, and I don't know how I feel about this. This was an answer to someone's ask, so that's why it's a minier mini-fic. Since I typed this out in the middle of the night, don't expect it to be half decent since I'm tired and want to go to bed before I have to get up early morning 🥲 I don't think I'll be tagging people in this mini-fic 🤔I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Some of the Genshin men are sick

Word Count: 2.4k

Read Part 2 of Sick Days [HERE].

Almost everyone at the estate is sick except for Zhongli, Venti, Xiao, Scaramouche, Albedo, Baizhu, and Dainsleif. Oh, and yourself, of course. Which is a shocker because you’re usually the one that gets sick often out of everyone in the abode, but now it’s the other way around. Baizhu and Albedo are the ones that do the check-ups and prescribe medication for the men who are sick, while you and the others are the ones that try to nurse them back to health.

Childe rings his bell from his bedroom upstairs. “Snookums!” Childe hollers from the top of his lungs before having a coughing fit.

You peek your head into Childe’s room. “Yes, what do you need? And don’t shout! You’re going to make it worse for yourself, and you’re going to wake the others up,” you say, walking into his room.

Baizhu pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “I was able to get him to take his medication, but he refuses to go to sleep because he wants to cuddle with you,” says Baizhu, turning to look at you with a look of defeat.

You look at Childe, propping your hands on your hips. “Is that true, Childe?” You ask.

Childe nods glumly and holds his arms out, making grabby motions with his hands. You chuckle and sigh. You nearly forgot that Childe is even clingier when he’s sick, which is unfortunate because it makes it harder for you to care for the other sick men.

Venti knocks on the door, pops his head into the room, and sighs, giving you a sympathetic smile. “[Y/N], the others are calling for you.”

“Which others are we talking about? The ones that aren’t sick, or the ones that are sick?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at the anemo archon.

Venti purses his lips and clears his throat. “What would you do if I said both?” asks Venti, tapping his fingers on the doorframe while leaning against it.

Childe’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head, kneeling on his bed as if he’s prepared to get off it to convince you to stay. “No! Don’t leave me! You know I can’t go to sleep without you cuddling me!” Childe whines, giving you puppy dog eyes before coughing and sneezing into his elbows.

Baizhu gives Childe a fake smile before handing the eleventh Harbinger a face mask while keeping a safe distance between the two of them. “Please wear this face mask while you’re sick. You don’t want to get other people sick now, do you?” Baizhu says.

Childe lets out a huff, grabs the face mask from Baizhu’s hands, and puts it over his mouth and nose. You walk over to Childe and gently push him to make him lie on his back. Even though Childe has a mask over his nose and mouth, you know he’s pouting. You tuck Childe into bed and kiss his forehead.

“Get some rest, alright? I have to check up on the others,” you say, stroking Childe’s soft hair.

Childe huffs and nods before turning over to his side and closing his eyes. You, Baizhu, and Venti walk out of Childe’s room.

The minute you and the two men step out of Childe’s bedroom, you realize how much chaos the estate actually has. You hear occasional coughing, sniffling, and people calling your name for your attention from each person's room.

You walk to the room beside Childe’s room and knock on the door before peeking in. Diluc stares at you with bleary eyes with tissues stuck up his nose. You give the redhead a sympathetic smile before entering his room.

Diluc sniffles. “Don’t come any closer. I don’t want you to get sick,” Diluc says.

You can’t help but giggle at Diluc’s nasally voice and continue to walk to his bed. Diluc frowns at you before taking the tissues out from his nose and tossing them into the trash bin beside his bed. Diluc reaches for another tissue and stares at you while you sit across from him on his bed.

You give his leg a squeeze. “How are you feeling right now? You took your medication, right?” You ask, looking at Diluc worriedly.

Diluc nods while wiping his nose. “I did take my medication. I’m waiting for it to kick in. I hate being sick. It prevents me from getting my job done at the winery.” Diluc frowns, sniffling again.

“I understand your frustration, Diluc. But please take this time to rest. You won’t recover from your illness if you don’t get plenty of rest,” you say.

Diluc frowns and lets his hands fall onto his lap. You get up from Diluc’s bed and walk closer to him. Diluc looks at you with wide eyes while you lean down to kiss the top of his head. Diluc mumbles something under his breath before lying on his bed and closing his eyes. You press the back of your hand on Diluc’s forehead, nearly sighing in relief. Diluc’s temperature is going down, thankfully.

You leave Diluc’s bedroom to let him rest, closing the door behind you. Venti and Baizhu went somewhere you’re not sure— probably to check up on the other men in the estate. Zhongli steps out from one of the men’s rooms, carrying a tray of food in his hands. Zhongli sighs and gives you a look, shaking his head.

“It’s strange how they got ill simultaneously,” Zhongli comments, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way toward the staircase.

“Oh, uh, I’m about to check up on the others! I’ll join you downstairs after I finish checking up on all of them. Is that okay?” You ask, getting ready to enter the room Zhongli had left not long ago.

Zhongli smiles. “You’re not obligated to join me, [Y/N]. I heard everyone has been asking for you,” he chuckles, shaking his head.

You give Zhongli a weak smile, nodding. “Yeah, they are, and I’m going to check on each of them to make sure they’re okay. Childe wanted to cuddle with me, but I can’t join him this time since, you know, he’s sick, and he could get me sick as well,” you reply.

Zhongli nods before bidding you goodbye and walking down the stairs. You walk into the room to see Dainsleif pinning Itto down while Xiao tries to shove a pill down Itto’s mouth. You stand at the door, unsure of what to do other than watch.

You clear your throat. “What in the world are you guys doing?” You ask, grabbing the three men’s attention.

“[Y/N]! Help me! They won’t let me go!” Itto screams, thrashing under Dainsleif’s grasp. “Is this how you treat a sick person!?” Itto exclaims, glaring at Dainsleif and Xiao.

Dainsleif rolls his eyes and tightens his grip on Itto’s wrists. “You need to take your medication. I don’t care if you’re an Oni, Itto. You need to take your medication because it’s prescribed to you by Doctor Baizhu,” Dainsleif replies.

Xiao lightly smacks Itto’s head. “This wouldn’t have happened if you complied and took your medication without a fight,” Xiao says, glaring at Itto.

You walk over to the three men and pull Xiao and Dainsleif away from Itto. Itto gives you a grateful look before sitting up and fixing his hair and clothes with a huff. You hold your hand out to Xiao. Xiao gives you a look before placing the pill in your hand.

“Good luck trying to get him to take his medication,” Xiao mutters.

You sit on the edge of the bed and hand Itto the pills. Itto stares at the large pills with horror, then back at you. Judging by the look on his face, Itto was asking if you’re insane for wanting him to swallow a pill that’s almost the size of his entire pinky.

You purse your lips. “If you take them, you’ll feel better after! Plus, it’s not fun being sick, is it?” You ask.

Itto frowns and shakes his head.

“If you don’t want to take medicine that’s this big, I recommend taking these right now, and you should be feeling a little bit better after a few hours.” You suggest.

Dainsleif hands Itto a cup of water. “Unless you want us to pin you down and force you to take your medicine, I recommend you take your medication like an adult.”

Itto glares at Dainsleif and tosses the pills into his mouth before downing the water. You give Itto a pat on the back before kissing the side of his head. Itto smiles and places the cup on the nightstand before he pulls you onto his bed.

“Itto, I can’t stay long! I have to check up on the others, too, you know?” You mutter, trying to squirm out from his grasp.

Itto ignores your comment and continues to snuggle into you with a wide smile. You look at Xiao and Dainsleif. The two men pinch the bridge of their noses, mentally cursing at the Oni.

You sigh in defeat and pat Itto’s arms. “Alright, I guess I’ll be staying here for a little bit, alright?” You ask, glancing up at Itto.

Itto smiles and nods wordlessly. You look at Xiao and Dainsleif, gesturing for them to give you and Itto some privacy. You continue to let Itto hug you to his chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You close your eyes and slowly drift off to sleep without even realizing it. Time passes by, and you wake up to the sound of whispering around you.

“Dammit, Itto! You decide to hoard [Y/N] for yourself and not let them check up on the rest of us?” You hear Aether whisper.

Heizou sighs. “Poor thing must be exhausted. Everyone wants their attention, and for them to check up on us must’ve worn them out,” says Heizou.

You crack your eyes open to see the men sitting around you. You blink at them and look at Itto, who’s staring down at you while combing his fingers through your hair. You rub your eyes and sit, blinking at everyone.

Kazuha chuckles, coughing into his elbows. “It looks like [Y/N] slept really well,” Kazuha smiles at you.

“Sorry for not being able to check up on all of you. As you can see, I fell asleep. Unintentionally, of course,” you say sheepishly.

Ayato sighs and walks over to the bed, sitting beside you. “There’s no need to apologize. You tried your best to care for those who are sick and didn’t get to rest because people were pulling you left and right.”

“We decided to make it easier for you by coming here after we heard Dainsleif and Xiao say something about Itto hoarding you for himself,” Thoma says, putting on his face mask and sitting at the edge of the bed across from you and Itto.

You blink at the men before you and at Itto. Itto seems content with the situation. Itto presses his back against the wooden headboard of his bed and reaches for the cup of water. You plop over on your side and close your eyes. Dear Archons, dealing with sick men with the help of seven men was not easy. Zhongli, Xiao, Venti, Dainsleif, Albedo, Scaramouche, and Baizhu did everything to help the men that are sick, and you’re eternally grateful for their assistance. Despite their trying to help, it didn’t stop the others from wanting you and only you. You crack your eyes open and pat the bed.

“You guys might as well join us in bed then. You all wanted to be near me or be in the same room as me,” You say.

Al Haitham stares at you. “We’ll get you sick, you know that, right?” asks Al Haitham.

“And? I’ve gotten sick many times since my arrival at Teyvat. It’s nothing new!” You reply, brushing Al Haitham’s worry to the side.

Kaveh stares at you and tosses a pillow at you. “That’s the point! You’ve fallen ill so many times in Teyvat already. We don’t want you to get sick again because of us,” Kaveh replies, letting out a huff of breath before having a short coughing fit.

“Remember how a lot of you would tell me to rest up?” You ask, closing your eyes.

“Yes, we tell you that because you do need to rest. You push yourself to the point where you get sick,” Tighnari replies, clearing his throat.

You sputter and rub your face. “Yeah, well, you all need to rest! And since you’re all in here already, you might as well make yourselves home for now until we’re all rest up!” You say, patting the bed.

“But you’ll get sick,” Cyno states, frowning at you.

“Hand me a face mask, then! You know that one part of a wedding vow? Something about in sickness and in health?” You ask, reaching out toward Baizhu while he hands you a mask to wear.

Kaeya snorts, sitting on Itto’s bed and lying across from you. “You really are stubborn.”

“Wait, are we all going to just lay on Itto’s bed? I don’t think we’ll fit,” Gorou says, counting the number of people in Itto’s room.

You wave Gorou’s worries away. “We’ll probably Tetris it, don’t worry! If that doesn’t work, then we’ll figure it out somehow,” you say, scooting over to make room for the others.

Scaramouche asks, “What if I don’t want to be near any of these losers and only with you?” Scaramouche smacks Childe upside of his head as he walks by the eleventh Harbinger.

You stare at Scaramouche. “Then we can do that later! Just you and me!” You reply.

“And chaos begins,” Albedo chuckles, shaking his head as everyone starts pushing and shoving each other, trying to get to you.

Surprisingly, no one has fallen over yet. You made sure everyone wore a mask because you didn’t want them to get each other even more sick than they already were. You’re in the middle of the bed while people are scrambling to lay beside you or at least close enough to you. At this point, it’s a cuddle pile, and you’re all for it because imagine being sandwiched between many men.

In the end, you had to give up your spot because they didn’t want to crush you. So, they have you lay on top of everyone because they want you to feel comfortable and not claustrophobic. That and because they want to be able to pass you around so the other person can get their turn cuddling you. Just when you thought you were needy when you’re sick, you’re wrong because these men are needier than you are and constantly crave your attention. Not that you’re complaining, of course. They’re just clingier when they’re sick, and it’s something you’re going to have to get used to if you ever get married to them.

Note: Not tagging people for this mini-fic since this was supposed to be a response to someone's ask. Plus, it's also nearing 4 AM, and tagging people can take a while. This is just a mini-fic/response to an ask. It's short, it's not the best. But this is what I imagined would go down if the reader were to take care of the sick Genshin men. Some of them aren't sick because they're immortal, so yeah! To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

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wlntrsldler · 3 months

Note

Hi, I loved “apple pie” so much!! Would you consider doing a part 2 with Jamie’s injury during the game and the reader taking care of him when they get home to Richmond? I feel like it would be so soft 🥹💗

sweet nothing | jamie tartt

based on the song sweet nothing by taylor swift

description: part two to apple pie, but can be read alone!

pairing: jamie tartt x actress!reader (she/her)

warnings: language-- it's ted lasso, what did ya expect?; tooth-rotting fluff! jamie being pookie asf. mention of sex but nothing crazy. mention of his dad.

wc: 1.7K+

Nobody in the owner's box spoke. Jamie was lying on the pitch, arms crossed over his eyes in pain. You could hear Man City fans hollering insults at him in the distance, but all of their noise was drowned out by the thumping of your heart. You forgot how to breathe.

You felt Keeley squeeze your hand, bringing you back to the present. You watched the physios help him off the field. The game continued but you were no longer interested. Instead, you found yourself staring at the boy sitting on the sidelines as he talked to Ted.

"Come on, Jamie," you whispered, biting your thumb anxiously. "You got this, baby."

With a pat on the back, Jamie re-entered the game. You cheered along with Keeley and Rebecca, tears pooling your eyes. You were so proud of him.

The taunts from Man City fans got louder as he walked toward his teammates. Jamie, looked around, rolled his eyes, and stuck his tongue out as he banged on his chest where the AFC Richmond logo was stitched on his kit. You laughed, wiping your eyes, enjoying how confident and full of life your boyfriend seemed to be even after getting injured.

You watched as he masterfully dribbled the ball, dodging three Man City players, before he got in position to kick the ball. The loud whoosh of the football rang throughout the entire arena and before you knew it, all AFC Richmond fans were on their feet cheering for the native Mancunian.

Jamie looked up at the owner's box where he knew you'd be and blew a kiss in your direction. Although you knew he couldn't see you, you blew him a kiss right back. As he was exiting the pitch, he was met with thunderous applause from supporters of his old team.

"That's how good he is," you heard Higgins say from behind you. "Jamie Tartt is a legend."

Your smile widened as you nodded in agreement. The camera crew focused on Jamie's expression as he allowed himself to marvel at the crowd's praise. He no longer had the cocky smile on his face, but rather, his face was relaxed and full of gratitude. This was a homecoming that he deserved.

When the full time was called, the team celebrated on the pitch. Jamie stayed for a bit, but excused himself to come find you. You were waiting for him in front of the locker room entrance, unable to contain your excitement when you saw him.

Briefly forgetting his injury, you ran to him, engulfing him in a hug that made him lose his balance. You peppered kisses all over his face, "I am so proud of you, Jamie Tartt. God, I love you so much."

He tried to laugh to mask the hiss of pain he let out when he put too much pressure on his ankle. You pulled away quickly, suddenly feeling horrible for nearly attacking him. You stepped away from him, "I completely forgot. I'm so sorry, love."

"No," he whined, immediately reaching out for you again. You reluctantly obliged and approached him, much calmer this time around. Jamie sighed in content, leaving light kisses on your neck, "Much better. Don't go too far."

"Jamie, you're hurt," you tutted, threading your fingers through his hair. He hummed in approval, still refusing to let go of you. You placed a kiss on his cheek, forcing him to separate from you to capture your lips in a kiss. You pulled away, "Let's get you to the physios, yeah? Make sure you're all good to go?"

Jamie knew you were right. He did need to get a thorough check-up. He nodded, intertwining his fingers with yours, "Let's go?"

You squeezed his hand gently, letting him lead you away.

Thankfully, Jamie was okay for the most part. The physio told him that he needed to take it easy at least until the next match, but he should be able to participate in light training after two days. Roy grunted in disapproval after hearing the news, but you could tell that he was relieved that Jamie wasn't hurt any more than he was.

The bus ride back to Richmond was rowdy. The boys were absolutely wild over their win-- as they should be, but it also meant that Jamie refused to rest the entire time. You were glad, however, that he remained seated the entire time and didn't put too much pressure on his hurt ankle.

It was nice to be around the boys again. You didn't realize how much of a community, a family, you created in Richmond. Jamie played a big part in that. Before him, you had friends in the industry who were shooting projects in England, but never anybody who's grounded and secured here. You craved stability, at least as much stability as you could get being an actress. You never thought you'd find it here, in Jamie.

"Hi, love," Jamie whispered from beside you. He had a hand on your thigh, "Whatcha thinkin' bout?"

"Just how much I missed all this," you motioned toward the loud, ruckus of the team around the both of you. You turned your head to look at him, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose, "How much I missed you."

"Don't get all sappy on me now, love," Jamie teased, though he wrapped an arm around you to pull you closer, "I'm the one that's hurt here. I'm the only one allowed to be sappy."

You faked a groan, rolling your eyes, "I suppose you're gonna be a big baby for the next few days."

"Oh yeah," he answered too quickly. He chuckled, placing a kiss on the crown of your head, "Gonna get so sick of me. We're gonna lay in bed for two days straight. Doc said I had to take it easy, remember?"

"You know that also means no sex, right?"

He turned to you in horror. He shook his head in disapproval, "Well Doc doesn't know what he's talkin' about anyway. He obviously doesn't know that my proper fit girlfriend hasn't been home in so long and that rest wasn't an option for me when you're only back for a week."

"Knock it off," Roy grumbled from in front of you. "You guys are fucking disgusting."

"Don't worry, grandad. I'll save some lovin' for ya." Jamie made kissy noises as he spoke to Roy, making you laugh uncontrollably in your seat.

By the time you made it back to the facility, the boys were buzzing to celebrate the night out partying-- all of them but Jamie. You were waiting in the car park by his car, thinking that you'd drive it to his place while he celebrated with the team, but you were caught by surprise when he walked out with his bag, looking as cozy as ever.

Dani and Colin waved to him, both excited to spend the night getting wasted with the team. Jamie walked towards you, careful not to put too much pressure on his ankle, and handed you his keys.

"You don't mind driving tonight, do you love?" He asked. "Need to get my ankle sorted before the next game and I don't want to do too much."

"I don't mind at all. I figured I would be drivin'," you replied, unlocking the car. You and Jamie both got in, adjusting the seat a bit so you could drive properly. Before you pulled out of the facility's premises, you turned to Jamie, "Are you not going to celebrate with the boys?"

"Nah," Jamie said, so casually. He buckled his seatbelt, twisting his body to grin at you, "See them lads every fuckin' day. Love 'em, but I love ya more. You're only here for a week so I'm makin' the most out of it."

"Such a romantic," you teased, but his words made your heart flutter. Jamie didn't know the effect he had on you and honestly, even if you tried to explain it to him, he probably wouldn't believe you.

It was already hard for him to believe that you said yes to dating him. Sure, if you had asked him a year ago if he saw himself with the hottest up-and-coming actress, his prick self would've said, "Of course, I'm Jamie fucking Tartt." But now that he's finally allowed himself to be vulnerable and care about people, that facade he once had no longer seemed necessary. With that side of him slowly fading, he'd be lying if he said small parts of his confidence didn't.

That's why he's so fucking lucky that you decided to take a chance on him. You never did anything that made him doubt how much he meant to you. He spent so much of his life trying to figure out who actually loved him and who didn't-- massive thanks to his dad for that one-- that it's so nice to not have to worry about something like that.

You made him feel so fucking loved that sometimes the idea of it overwhelmed him, in a good way of course. All the times he wondered if he was worthy of love seemed so trivial now.

The both of you fell into your comfortable routine as if you hadn't been gone for weeks when you got to Jamie's place. It was like you never left. In between the mundanity of getting ready for bed, you gave each other kisses on the cheek, and hugs from behind, always somehow touching each other or so close to each other.

At the end of the night, you and Jamie were lying in bed, Jamie's head on your chest. You were absentmindedly running your fingers through his hair, letting out a soft chuckle when he sighed happily. A few times throughout the night, he would get a video from one of the boys, pissed drunk, doing something so stupid, that you both could only hope that the paparazzi weren't there to see.

You talked to each other about everything that's happened over the last few weeks-- what restaurants you guys need to try together when Jamie visits you in New York, what new training regimen Roy prescribed Jamie, what Colin and Isaac were bickering about this week. You ended up falling asleep before Jamie because jetlag was finally catching up to you.

Jamie, who became the big spoon after you fell asleep, laid awake, unable to stop himself from smiling. This, he finally allowed himself to admit it, was something he could see himself doing for the rest of his life. With you sleeping soundly next to him, clinging to him like you never want to let go, Jamie lets himself deserve this good, loving life with you.

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagines #ted lasso oneshot #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tart x yn #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt oneshot #frances song fics #frances writes

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ellethespaceunicorn · 7 months

Text

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest, Prologue

Title: The Legend of the Claw Creek Creature

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: 2K

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: The story of the creature in the woods is told to you by your grandfather. You pass it on later to the kids in your hospital ward as a funny story from your childhood. It seems all of this might not be just a story.

Warnings: mentions of mutilated animals, spoopy vibes

A/N: So, this is my contribution to Halloween/Kinktober. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I digress. This poll helped me decide who is my main character. Thank you to @viking-raider for challenging me. Thank you to @milknhonies for setting a fire under my butt. And a special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

“Grandpa, I wanna hear the story again, please!” You bounded over to your grandfather, your pigtails flopped on your shoulders when you landed in his lap as he sat in his favorite armchair.

He smiled down at you and spoke, “And what story might that be, darling?”

“C’mon, Grandpa, you know what story. The one about the Claw Creek creature!!” You reminded him of your favorite tale, the legend of what happened right here in your town.

“Alright, alright,” He scratched at his gray beard and looked off into the distance, “So, way back when the town was first founded over two hundred years ago, there were only a few families that settled here. The first of which was a wealthy family from England. Then came a successful farming family from the South. And so on. Well, little did these settlers know that there was an evil lurking in the woods at the edge of town.”

You listened to the story, even though you knew it backward and forward. You just liked to hear how your grandfather could make it so fanciful every time you heard it.

“After a prosperous number of years, the townspeople started to notice livestock being mutilated overnight. One family would blame the other, of course. But no one was ever caught sneaking on the farms or taunting the animals. And sadly, it didn't end there.”

You couldn’t hide the smile on your face. This is the good part!

“Look at you getting all excited! I should have you tell this story.” He laughs and pats your head.

“No, Grandpa. You tell it so much better than me.” You adopted a pout and looked up at him through your lashes.

“Your mother used to use that same approach; she must have taught you well,” He rolls his eyes and smiles, continuing, “If losing cows and chickens wasn’t enough, the town suffered another tragedy. While playing a game of ‘Chicken’, a group of boys stood at the edge of the tree line with their backs to the forest in the dead of night. One by one, each boy would run away for fear that the noises coming from the trees were a signal that the creature was nearby. Until only one boy was left. When he saw his friends had all left him, he started to whoop and holler about his victory. And that was his last mistake, sadly—”

“Are you telling her that damn story again?” Your mother interrupted your grandfather, her father, “You aren’t the one that must reassure her in the dead of night that this story isn’t real, Dad.”

“Mommy, the story is real! And I promise I won’t get scared tonight. Please let Grandpa finish the story! Please please please please please—”

“Alright, fine! But remember you promised not to get scared tonight, young lady.” She kissed your forehead, patted her father’s shoulder, and shook her head before leaving you two to your story.

“Now, where was I?” Your grandfather starts, searching his memory for his place in the story, “Ah right, the last boy was making all kinds of racket over his victory. He started to walk toward where his friends were standing until something grabbed him from behind. All his friends could do was watch for one second, he was there, and the next second he was gone. His screams faded into the sounds of the forest. Those boys ran as fast as they could back to town to tell of what had happened.

“When some of the townsfolk went to search the forest, they weren’t very lucky. They scoured those woods in search of the boy. All they found was a cabin that was covered in vines, and it seemed to have been there for quite some time. But there was no sign of anyone having lived there. They searched and they searched but only found the boy’s jacket which was in shreds and covered in rust-colored fur. With no bears in the area, they assumed maybe it was a wolf or something. Which would have made sense with the missing livestock as well. It seemed that whatever took him must have eaten him whole because they never found anything else of his. No pants, no shoes. Gone, without a trace. And they searched for days, never finding him.

“After that tragedy, the elders discouraged everyone from going even near the woods. Unless it was daytime. If the sun was out, the forest was still a little scary but nothing like that night. Even now, with all the safety precautions we have, I wouldn’t go into that forest if you paid me a million dollars. Anyway, they ended up renaming the town Claw Creek in remembrance of what happened. Never found a wolf though. I guess after all these years, we can safely say whatever was there that night is long gone now. Occasionally though, the wind carries, and I could swear I could hear howling late at night. Whatever it is out there, I say we let him have the forest and we keep to the town. That goes for you too, darling. You stay out of those woods, okay?” He finished his story with a warning, and he’d never done that before.

“I’m not going in those woods. I am curious, though. How come I’ve never heard any howling? That would be so cool!” Your excitement about the story stopped you from thinking of the danger.

“Trust me, darling. You do not want to hear those howls. They are haunting. And I’m old, I’m barely afraid of anything. But that creature? I believe he’s still out there. That’s why I tell this story, even if your mother hates it. Listen a bit closer in the night, maybe you’ll hear the howls one day. But promise me that you won’t go in search of where they lead.” His serious face scared you a bit, he was usually so jovial.

“If I hear it, I won’t go toward it. I promise, Grandpa.” You reach out your pinky to him and he locks his pinky in yours to seal the promise.

“That’s my girl. Now, what do you say we go and see if there’s any milk and cookies we can get into?” With his warm smile back in place, you return it happily.

You hopped down from his lap and took his hand to pull him up off the armchair. Pulling him into the kitchen, you took a seat and watched as he poured the milk and took out some cookies from the cookie jar. You sat and talked with him about the creature and how you hoped you could hear the howl one day.

That night you stayed up extra late to wait for the sounds of the forest to float to your window. All you ended up hearing was the sounds of owls and crickets chirping. No howl that night and no howl any night after that.

That is, until about twenty years later...

It was just a bit past midnight and you had just finished your shift as a nurse in the children’s ward of the hospital. You were dog-tired but you loved your job. You made it a tradition to pass on the story that your grandfather told you about the town. Telling all the little kids scary stories had only one consequence. They wouldn’t want anything else before bed but your story. And you loved it. Of course, you gave them the same warning as your grandfather did, to never go in search of the ‘big bad wolf’.

You made it home and had a quick dinner and shower before you poured yourself into bed. Your open windows allowed the night breeze to come and wash over you. It also allowed you some white noise to fall asleep to.

And that’s when you heard it.

Ahh-wooooooo...

You shot up in bed, thinking you were hearing things. You went to your bedroom window and you peered out into the night. You could see the tree line from where your house stood and you listened again for the howl. There seemed to be only silence and you were about to give up when you heard it again.

Ahh-wooooooo...

Your eyes were glued to the trees as the sound traveled to your ears. You blame it on your lack of sleep that you saw yellow glowing eyes watching you before disappearing back into the dark of the forest.

But your tiredness wouldn’t explain the sound. The howl was there. You heard it twice. You can’t mistakenly hear something twice. Can you?

You wait at your window for a couple minutes and there are no more sounds and no movement from the trees. You close your window and lay back in bed. You toss and turn most of the night, thinking of that pained howl all night long. You even dreamt of those eyes that you thought you saw.

You didn’t know it yet, but that was not the last time you would hear that howl or see those eyes.

The next morning, you go out to your local coffee shop to fuel up. You notice there seems to be a commotion as some folks are gathering outside near the town square. With coffee in hand, you make your way over and spot your best friend.

“Olivia, what is all this about? Why is everyone out here?” You ask, gesturing toward the crowd of people near the fountain.

“Girl, you didn’t hear those howls last night?” Her panic-stricken face tells you everything you need to know.

Those howls were real. And everyone heard them.

“But...it’s just like a wolf or something? We’re outlined by a forest. That’s gotta be normal. Right?” You’re not sure whether you are trying to calm her down, or yourself.

“Well, yeah. But that doesn’t explain what happened on a few of the farms. Actually, the Elliot and the Sullivan farms got it the worst. They say some of their cattle and chickens got mutilated. But the doors to the enclosures to where the animals were kept? They weren’t broken in, they were just opened. Like something opened the door and walked in, ate their fill of beef and poultry, and then just walked right back out. How could that even happen?” She shakes her head and wraps her arms around herself to try and keep warm in the brisk autumn morning air.

You were fine with thinking you had gone crazy and heard howls and saw glowing eyes. In fact, you would rather have continued to think you were nuts. But this ain’t no dream. Other people heard the howls last night. And now there were animal mutilations. All like in your grandfather’s story.

I bet he would have gotten a sick little thrill out of all this happening. But you’re suddenly glad that he wasn’t around to see all this nonsense.

“Liv, I’m gonna go back home. If anything else comes up, call me ok? Just be careful out here, girl.” You give her a quick hug and make your way back to your house after she promises to check in with you later.

Sitting at your kitchen table, your coffee gone cold, you stared off into space. Was this all really happening? Was the creature real? Had it seen you that night? You pour your coffee into a mug and place it in the microwave. While you wait for it to be done, you check your phone and see Liv sent you a text.

‘Hey girl, so they’re actually setting a curfew for tonight. Can you believe it? Everybody needs to be indoors by ten. Anyway, let’s get together for drinks tonight. Your place or mine or whatever. Don’t really wanna be alone tonight with all this mess.’

You send a quick text back agreeing to have her over for some wine and bad television, not wanting to be alone tonight either. Grabbing your coffee from the microwave, you settle down in the living room with your laptop. You begin to search the internet for any local wolf sightings, and to your horror, there hasn’t been a single one. Which, in your brain, can only mean one thing.

The creature your grandfather warned you about might not be just a piece of fiction.

To be continued...

A/N: I am really nervous about this story so any comments are welcome. I really wanted this to be a one-shot and I should have known better lol.

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