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#i clearly do not care about my mental state
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AITA for sort of ignoring when my boyfriend is upset?
My boyfriend struggles with some depression, and I'm of course supportive, as someone with a lot of mental health issues myself. We're generally very communicative about a lot of things.
The thing is, sometimes he's clearly upset about something or talks badly about himself, but in a way where he's sort of dropping obvious hints without saying something like "I'm really upset" or "I could use support right now." For example, I'll be talking about something I did with my friends, and he'll say something like "that's great, I'm glad you had fun! I wish people liked me enough to do fun stuff like that." And I don't really know how to respond? Like I wasn't trying to gloat or anything, I just tell him about things in my life. And I know he's genuine when he says he's glad I had a good time or whatever. He's just really really insecure.
There was a time recently, for example, when a friend had offered to take pictures of me outside of a party we were both at. I told him that I was going outside and he asked if he should come with, and I said sure! Afterwards he was really torn up about whether he was supposed to come outside with me or if I was just saying that to be nice, but like I wish he trusted me in that me saying yes means I'm saying yes. If I didn't want him to come with, I would have said no. I don't really have any issues with saying no to people.
Previously I was reassuring him when he brought these sorts of things up, but to be frank it's gotten kind of tiring. There's only so many times I can say "you're a good person who is fun to be around and I like you" until it gets on my nerves. It feels like what I say doesn't make any impact on him, which I know isn't his fault, but it's frustrating for me. So I'm kind of like. Why bother repeating the same thing again and again if it isn't making a difference?
Also, because I anticipate this being brought up, I've asked for support explicitly before and he's given me support. It kinda feels like he cares about supporting me more than he cares about himself, which is sweet and all but I don't like that. I want him to care about himself too. I've told him this, and told him he can ask me for support when he needs it.
For the record, the times where he has explicitly said he's not doing well/needs support I've offered it. If he says "I really need a hug next time we hang out" or whatever, I'll do it. I just sometimes feel like an emotional nanny to be honest, because it feels like I have to be on alert for these hints or whatever and take care of the insecurity.
So, am I the asshole for not responding to my boyfriend's upset feelings unless he explicitly states them and/or asks for support?
What are these acronyms?
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I’ve seen this video circulating recently and was wondering if you had any idea what’s going on and why the orca is doing this. I don’t know much about cetaceans
Hello! Thanks for the ask.
So this gentleman is Nakhod, one of the adult male orcas at Chimelong Spaceship (which is in China, so it would not be even remotely affected by the SWIMS Act promoted in the video’s caption). Let’s preface by saying that since I don’t actually know this animal or the specifics of his care, I can’t come to any hard and fast conclusions from watching a 20 second video.
The Instagram page you linked is using this clip as proof of “mental health issues.” First off, animals can’t be diagnosed with mental health disorders as we understand them, but I think it’s safe to say they’re referring to stereotypies.
This could absolutely be a stereotypy, and I definitely don’t want to diminish that possibility. However, but its very nature, a stereotypy must be repeated. In this 20-second clip, we only see Nakhod smack his head once before swimming off, so this particular incident doesn’t seem overly stereotypical. Personally, I think it’s more likely he’s displaying misdirected aggressive behavior, particularly since he opens his mouth afterward. As for what’s causing him to be so frustrated, it could be he’s annoyed at the guests. But the fact that he very clearly smacks his genital slit against the acrylic really makes me think it may be sexual.
Chimelong is actively breeding its orcas (Nakhod himself has already sired a calf), so we know their whales are not on birth control (at least not all the time). It’s certainly within the realm of possibility that there was a female in estrus that he was either separated from or rebuffed by. From personal experience, male cetaceans tend to get a little crazy when the females are receptive, and that includes aggressive displays. If I had to go with my gut, I think this is sexual behavior. But again, that’s pure speculation on my part.
So, in conclusion, I don’t know for sure what’s going on. He could be developing a stereotypy, or he could be frustrated, sexually or not. It’s not a benign behavior, but it’s also not automatic evidence of extreme distress.
Note: Normal orca vocals sound sad and pathetic. They’re not screaming or wailing, that’s just how they are. Not sure if the video said “sound on” to hear that or the thuds from him banging the acrylic.
Another note: My overall feelings on Chimelong are really complicated. They purchased their whales from wild captures 8-10 years ago, but their current facility is by far the largest and certainly the most enriching orca habitat ever built. They’ve also had a lot success breeding healthy calves, which indicates they’re at least doing something right. At the same time, the park is outer spaced themed for some reason, and since I can’t read or speak Mandarin, I have no idea what the educational value of the aquarium section is. But I hope the Chimelong pod does for China what Shamu did for the United States—inspire a passion for orcas.
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marvelsmylife · 26 days
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Her touch
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: he only craves her touch
a/n I'm in a cheerful mood. please send in your fluffiest (or even smuttiest) requests my way
Warning: implied smut. Az becoming the biggest simp.
ACOTAR Masterlist
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Azriel has been alive for over 500 years and has had multiple lovers throughout those years. Yet, it’s your touch that has him weak in the knees; and you weren’t even aware of it.
The first time it happened was a complete accident. You were helping Elain with bringing the dinner out for everyone when you accidentally placed your hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Oh, sorry sugar. I thought I was holding your chair,” you apologized, removing your hand from his shoulder and disappearing into the kitchen.
Azriel didn’t know why, but he found himself becoming flustered with not only the nickname you gave him but also feeling your hand on his shoulder. Even if it only lasted a few seconds. 
Everyone around the table noticed as well, but opted not to say anything; they knew better than to tease the spymaster. But they made a mental note to keep an eye on you for future interactions between you two.
The second time it happened was at the court of nightmares. Rhysand had business to take care of there and decided to bring all of you along.
Unfortunately, you got separated from the rest of the group and ultimately started getting pestered by one of Keir’s men.
You were praying to the mother that you find one of your friends to help you when you spotted Azriel leaning against a pillar. You ran towards him and whispered: “Please pretend I’m your mate. He won’t leave me alone.”
Azriel didn’t hesitate to get in front of you and shield you from the male making you uncomfortable. It took everything in Azriel not to kill the male that was in front of him because Rhysand clearly stated he didn’t want any deaths while they were there. “The female is my mate,” Azriel warned: “If I see you anywhere near her, I will gut you like a fish in front of everyone.”
The male huffed at Azriel’s threat but ultimately left.
As soon as he was gone, he turned to look at you. He was about to ask if you were ok when you wrapped your arms around him and repeatedly thanked him for what he did. “It’s ok. You’re ok. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” Azriel tried to soothe you, his hand resting around your waist.
When you finally pulled away, you pulled Azriel down and kissed him on his cheek: “My hero.”
Azriel swore his heart stopped beating when your lips made contact with his cheek. Before he could respond, Rhysand announced that they were leaving. You immediately went to Mors' side and quickly left the court of nightmares.
After that night, Azriel tried to get you to touch him any chance he got. His body craved your touch and would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
The others noticed Azriel’s efforts and started placing bets on how long it would take before he got the balls to tell you how he felt about you.
You, on the other hand, were obviously to the entire thing. Mor would tease you for your cluelessness and beg you to open your eyes to what Azriel was doing. She wanted you to be happy and knew Azriel would treat you right.
It wasn’t until one night when you and Azriel were alone at the house of wind that Azriel finally got what his body desperately craved. What was supposed to be light rain turned into a thunderstorm. Seeing as you hated thunderstorms so much, you quickly ran and lightly knocked on Azriel’s door and asked if you could stay with him. He agreed and brought you inside. He couldn’t help but smile as you curled up against him on his bed, and it took everything in him not to kiss you.
“I love this,” you started, taking his hands into yours: “I always feel safe with you around. Like I know you’ll kill anything and anyone who dares to threaten me.”
“Because I would,” Azriel whispered, bringing your hands up to his lips: “I would go as far as burning all of Prythian if you asked me to. Just to make you happy.”
You stared in shock at Azriel’s comment. None of the males you’ve been with in the past has ever expressed themselves the way Azriel has. Before you allowed yourself to second guess what you were about to do, you leaned in and kissed Azriel.
The moment your lips landed on Azriel’s, an overwhelming amount of lust rushed through Azriel’s body, and before he knew it, he found himself on top of you. His callous hands roamed your body, squeezing every inch of you as if he were making sure you were actually real.
As if you read his mind, you whimper: “Real, I’m real Az.”
That drove Azriel to groan before he began attacking your neck with kisses and slipping his hands under your nightgown. “Yes, you are,” Azriel lightly bit your collarbone before he finally removed your nightgown, and you lay naked beneath him: “So fucking gorgeous.”
Soft whimpers and moans escaped your lips as Azriel fucked you in every position he knew. Not stopping until you begged him to; too overwhelmed from the multiple orgasms you had thanks to Azriel.
There was silence for several minutes while you both basked in the post-orgasm bliss. Both of you wanted to speak but were too worried about breaking the silence until Azriel was brave enough to do it: “Do you regret it?”
“Regret what?” you asked, looking up at him.
“Regret what we just did,” Azriel replied, gently stroking your cheek.
“No, I don’t,” you stared at Azriel with nothing but love in your eyes: “If I have any regrets, it’s that I didn’t listen to Mor when she told me you had feelings towards me a few months ago. I know about the crush you harbored on her for centuries, and she’s absolutely gorgeous. I just thought you would never go for someone like me. Someone so bland and boring.”
There was a pain in Azriel’s eyes as he listened to the way you spoke about yourself. “Never speak about yourself in that manner. You are everything to me. You are the female that has my heart completely, and you are the female I choose to love.”
You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt Azriel’s scarred hands brushing away the tears running down your cheeks. “I choose to love you too,” you murmured as you rested your head on his chest and drifted off to sleep.
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bonny-kookoo · 6 months
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Jungkook
X♡X♡ [SEVEN DAYS] Day 3
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If you gave him your heart, your soul, your body- what would he do to those things? Maybe it's time to see if he can handle your love for once, and not just the other way around.
Tags/Warnings: Porn with a lot of plot basically, inexperienced!reader, Dom!Jungkook, BDSM themes and elements, mild Angst, fluff, slow burn but we'regetting somewhere, they have mad chemistry but mc has trust issues, mentions of past domestic abuse (mental), Outercourse (basically non-penetrative sex except with a dildo), toys, Cumplay, it's messy smh, hand kink? Increased authority from kook
Length: ~5k words
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜.♡
A/N: you'll never be able to imagine how much I struggled reconnecting with this fic. This was torture. I hated this fic so much at some point. I'm not proud of this part but if I don't get this out I'll never be able to continue this series.
-> Masterlist
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Jungkook has really nice hands.
Not just in a sensual or sexual sense, but in general. They're big but not intimidating, because the way he uses them is never in a mean or hurtful way. They're soft, and kind, and they also look very nice. Masculine, and strong, veins underneath the skin sometimes a bit more visible than other times, but they also hold a certain softness to them. His nails are well taken care of, only his thumb sometimes giving you a hint of a nervous habit.
They're uniquely Jungkook. Rough, but not to be feared. Gentle, but with the potential to lead. Capable. Handsome.
They're his main way of exploring your skin too- his fingers often used to make shivers run up your spine, palms warm as they feel every curve of you. He doesn't need to look at what he's doing ever it seems like, hands having minds of their own every time they touch you.
Like a separate entity almost, listening obediently to their master's command.
You slowly wake up from your nap, feeling actually refreshed, when Jungkook walks in from the door, giving you a hint to what must've woken you up. "Oh- You're up." He smiles, walking closer with a plastic bag, though his first mission is to press his hands into the softness of the couch before he kisses your cheek. "Here- let me show you something." He impishly chuckles, sitting down on his shins, before he opens the bag on the bed.
You're in a state of shock for a good moment, not even having noticed him move.
He's got the audacity to laugh over your shoulder, front pressed into your back, hands teasing your sides as they sneak up your loose shirt.
"Bought one that's about my size." He purrs sensually, almost like he's mocking you. But it's not malicious- playful, if anything, but not mean in any way. "So you can call it.. practice." He explains, while you stare at the nearly clear pink dildo that's staring at you, still packaged together with other things in the black plastic bag in your lap.
"Jungkook.. when did you even buy those things?" You wonder, feeling almost scared to touch any of the things inside.
"Earlier, when you were napping." He shrugs easily, hand reaching past your body to shamelessly dump the contents of the bag on the bed, bag flying somewhere on the floor. "Anything look like an absolute no-go to you?" He asks curiously, and you look without touching.
There's an egg-shaped item there you're not too sure of what it might be. The dildo explains itself, clearly- and the other massage wand is also pretty self-explanatory. There's two bottles of lube- one pink, the other blue. A.. plug, with a pretty pink gemstone on one end of it. Leather handcuffs, with soft looking fur on the inside. Overall, nothing immediately makes you uncomfortable.
You don't know what gives you the confidence for your next comment you blurt out though. "Don't you have any toys?" You ask him bluntly. "Like, for yourself? Or do you just.. use your partner's body for stuff?" You wonder, and he looks at you with a sharp gaze, a smirk growing on his lips.
"I wouldn't mind using your body, that's for sure." He flirts, leaning his head a bit to the side. "Why would I need toys if I've got you?" He fakes innocence as he asks that question without expecting any answer- And for a moment, you don't give one.
But something about his flirty comment bothers you.
Maybe because you hear someone else in your head again- all the men who've degraded you over the course of time. Your ex. Your friends. Your father. You hear them laugh yet again like you're pathetic and worth nothing.
"I don't want to be used." You deny with a flat tone, and it's clear from the slight change in his eyes that he's now on high alert at your every word spoken by mouth and body language, so he can figure out what happened to change your mood like that. "I don't just want to be.. a toy you get bored off and toss away at some point just to pick it back up once you're interested again." You say, drawing a clear line.
You're not sure how he might react to this. You didn't want to make a statement like that, but you can't mask the truth. You really are scared of getting hurt at the end of this- you don't want him to just play around and then let you go.
You don't want to go. You want to stay- You want him to want you to stay.
He says your name to gain your attention, voice low and steady, horribly gentle- and it makes your eyes sting as you realize that this is the first time a man has ever spoken in such a tone to you. He notices the way your eyes begin to gloss over- and it hurts him too, the fact that you're hurting.
"This isn't just something fun to me. I think I might not have made it clear." He says, staying away from you as to not invade your little bubble you're in, letting you have your safety. "I don't know what happened to you in the past to be so full of distrust towards anything good offered to you-" He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "-but I promise you, this isn't just a game to me."
"Then what is this." You say quietly, scared. "I'm scared that we're not on the same page here and that we're walking down to entirely separate paths." You complain pitifully with your back hunched over and head hanging low.
"That's because we are." He chuckles softly. "I'm trying to hold your hand here so we don't lose each other- but you're not holding it." Jungkook offers.
"I don't understand-" you shake your head, when as you look up again, his face is right in front of yours, eyes looking at your lips.
"Then let me help you." He hums towards you, before his lips press onto yours. And your body freezes.
Because he's never kissed you like this before- tender, calm and without any lust in it whatsoever. In fact, your realize only now that you've never been kissed without any hidden intentions or something to gain in mind. This kiss is soft, it's no words needed, it's love confessed in physical form. You've never been kissed like this. Ever.
And even more so, you're pretty sure he hasn't actually kissed you at all either- not until now, at least.
And it's all so confusing now, because you want to trust him, you want to just lean into him and let him have his way with you- but the fear inside you is still there, clutching your limbs, leaving you with no way to move anywhere- neither away from him, nor closer. You're currently stuck in place, and it's only a matter of time until he grows tired of you and your constant push and pull behavior.
You're hurting him, you know this.
Especially because you're kissing him back, giving him hope for something you might not be able to give him. You're cruel, aren't you? And the worst is that he probably knows even that.
Because once you start to cry, once you sob and cling to him like a touch-starved pet, letting all of those pent up emotions out because who cares, he doesn't say anything, doesn't ask what's wrong. He just holds you, gives you that moment, keeps your pieces collected in his palms for you to put back together later with his help. And you're not sure how many times you can do this.
Or how long he's willing to participate in this.
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Since Jungkook didn't make a move the entire morning, you've been spending it entertaining yourself as to not get bored. Not in a sexual way-
but by simply trying to see how strong his patience is.
It's a new feeling you've developed after just two days of being with him- confidence, and trust in that he won't ever hurt you whatsoever. No consequences he could come up with would ever truly put you in harms way, you absolutely believe in that. But what's disappointing was how he didn't ever get past a clench of his jaw, or a tilt of his head. He'd just.. let you do whatever, and never do anything to somehow discipline you.
It made you wonder. Is he even such an intimidating 'Dom' at all, or did he just make that up?
However, after talking about it after lunch, he's finally opened up to you too- having told you that he's gonna trust you too, that he'll be more open with you and his own desires, while you'll have to be honest about when he's going too far or too fast. And you agree- you want him to trust you too, want him to relax more around you as well.
After all, he wants to get to know you too, right? Not just the other way around.
What you did not take into account though, is that now, your actions actually will have consequences- and he will indeed put you back into your place in one way or another. And even if in that very moment where you piss him off he isn't reacting- he will remember those actions to remind you of them, later, when you don't even expect it.
Just like now, as he's finished some calls he had to make, finally finding time again for you. "I'm sorry- I technically told the studio not to contact me on my break." He hums into your hair, as you sit with him on the small sofa in his office, having practically demanded his attention back on you the moment he'd put his phone down, and he'd been visibly amused by it. Unbeknownst to you, he's more than just excited- after all, it feels like your week is finally gaining traction, as you no longer step around in the dark trying to navigate around obstacles that aren't even there.
He's just been too scared to scare you. But by now, it's clear that you're not. And it makes him eager to explore now that he can actually see where he's going with you.
There's a hand under your shirt, cropped top and cotton shorts nothing more than decoration really, considering he's already seen you naked. It's nothing too sensual technically- but at this point, you feel like something might be wrong with you. Because even a simple touch like this makes you.. needy.
He reaches over to the side, plastic bag rustling- and now you're actually starting to get antsy. Because there's only one bag next to the couch- the one that's containing all the different items Jungkook had bought this morning as he'd told you. And that's exactly what he's grabbing for it seems like, as he moves his arms a little to take out one of the items you weren't too sure about- already unpacked for some reason, as he holds it out for your hand to take.
"What is that?" You ask, fingers running over the smooth, silicone surface, while he chuckles behind you, since you're still halfway laying against his chest.
"Something I always wanted to try." He simply jokes. "It's really fun, according to a friend of mine. I've never used it with anyone before, but I think you might like it.." He hums, taking the toy away from you again, before his free hand pats your thigh once. "..scoot to the side for me, yeah?" He asks, and you do so, sitting next to him now while watching how he finally reveals what this.. object might be used for.
He has to adjust the belts multiple times to fit around his thigh, plastic clipping into place, before his eyes find yours, lips turned into a suspicious smirk. "Alright.." He starts, leaning back against the couch, and it's obvious that he's now demanding respect and most of all, your obedience. He points at a spot in front of him, and without words, you know exactly what he wants you to do, his expression one of almost.. pride, as he watches you stand in front of him, instinctually knowing what to do.
"Undress." He simply says, a straightforward command that you follow easily, because shame is something that you refuse to let yourself feel. He's not one you need to be hesitant with- he's promised you his honesty, after all, and he's promised you that even if things get awkward, it'll never change his view on you.
And his view of you is one of love, that's very clear to see and feel.
So it's not weird to stand in front of him all bare, clothes on a small pile next to your feet now, as he smiles. "Come here." He urges with a softer voice, having clearly realized that you've accepted his invitation into a scene now- for the first time not having needed any cues. "Take a seat, princess." He almost teases, and you do so, sitting on the soft silicone toy hugging his thigh.
It's pastel colored, multiple hues swirling together into one another, creating wave like patterns. "There you go... So pretty." He chuckles, hands running over the length of your arms, causing goosebumps to erupt from the sensation of his warm palms. He's feeling your skin a lot more sensually now, clear intentions as he touches your hips and waist, thumbs almost massaging the skin of your lower stomach, moving from the inside towards your hipbones before repeating the action.
His hands are so close to where you'd love to have them, and yet, you try and be patient. Because if you're good, he'll reward you, right?
It doesn't take long for you to notice the way your arousal makes movement a lot easier- your core by now slipping around with every little jerk of your hips, making you anxious to move more. And finally, as his fingers grip your hips, he gets into a more comfortable position himself- the unoccupied leg casually stretched out, while his back rests against the sofa, giving him a good position to watch you. "Show me how those hips can move." He urges, and you instantly take that invitation, slowly moving to test the waters.
You don't care what you look like, or about the wet sounds coming from the toy between your legs- because the feeling is insane.
He clearly let's you enjoy yourself for now, giving you free reign to figure out yourself how you like it. Your hips are squirming from side to side, ridges and bumps of the toy an odd but definitely pleasant sensation as you roll your core over it, uncaring of your arousal already leaking onto his grey sweatpants.
And neither does he care.
Watching you chase your own pleasure on his leg is just such a treat to witness- especially when he holds onto you, before he lifts his foot, forcing you down onto the toy without any warning, earning a surprised whimper from between your lips as he lets you down- just to repeat the motion a couple of times, simply to entertain himself. You're just too cute, even while doing such a sinful act. And especially when you clearly reach your orgasm is when he truly can't help himself-
hands guiding your hips to keep moving despite your clear sensitivity, just to see you struggle a little, thighs trembling and hands gripping his arms.
He's letting you lean against him, hips occasionally moving just a little, clearly still needy to feel more- and he's actually quite surprised when your hand curiously runs over the inside of his thigh, hesitating just shy of his very obvious erection that's only somewhat contained in his underwear and sweats. "You can touch me, you know?" He chuckles, making you look up at him. "I'm all yours." He tells you, and it feels like he's offering more than just his body to you.
But you don't get to think for long, because he's already helping you lay down on your back on the leather couch, unclipping the toy from his leg before he looms over you, hand running through your legs. "You didn't think I've forgotten, right?" He chuckles darkly, while his hand explores your still clenching core.
"You don't think I'm just letting you act like a brat and not put you into your place?" He purrs, leaning back on his heels, before he takes out something from the bag, his phone as well from the table close by. You're pulling back your legs, unaware that you're still exposed to him, lower lips plump and red from the friction of the toy, skin glistening with your arousal.
It's playing right into his desires, seeing you so clueless about your own appeal.
You're watching him press a hidden button on the toy, the pink object buzzing to life once, red light blinking while he taps away on his phone. "Oh~" He hums, trying out somethin it seems like, as the toy buzzes in different patterns before it stills again. "Interesting.. That'll be fun in the future." He chuckles, before he leans over you, kissing you with playful intent.
You're not sure what he's up to when he pushes your legs back down to stretch out, running the smooth object between your legs to cover it in your slick. "You're always so worried you can't take it.." He teases, looking right at you before you notice him push the object inside-
the egg shaped vibrator slipping right in, almost suddenly, core taking it inside greedily- only the elongated part staying outside, something resting right on your clit. "Oh?" He jokes, brows raised. "Where'd it go?" He jokes, making you laugh now, entire nature of this whole scene awfully light in that moment, lifting your overall tenseness entirely at this point. And for a moment, all is fun and games-
until he leans back, sits down in the corner of the couch, finger on his phone suddenly doing something-
The toy inside you buzzing to live, and not on an easy setting, that's for sure. He's obviously amused by the way you squirm, hips jerking whenever you move in a way that forces the part resting against you to move. And he's having the time of his life, trying out different settings and rhythms while watching you suffer under his antics.
"You still need to learn." He chuckles, watching your legs jerk whenever the piece that's resting over your clit moves just slightly. "I don't have to touch you to gain my fill." He says, simply scanning your body with a warm, hooded gaze. "Hm? You've had such a smart mouth the entire day." He coos, almost feigning innocence as he looks at you racing towards your final high-
Generously turning down the intensity so that it's not that harsh.
You're slowly catching your breath, when his lips tilt upwards, and his finger taps around- buzzing intensifying again, catching you off guard, causing a yelp to escape you as your hips lift off the couch.
This is too much. Or not enough? You can't take this, there's something strange happening with your body as it moves without your permission, turning over into all fours, front laying down as your hands frantically touch the inside of your thighs.
And Jungkook relishes in the scene you present to him, because there's a reason your fingers hesitate to touch your core, and he knows it.
You can't take it out. Not physically- that you can, if you really wanted to- but mentally. You know he's put it there, and he's the one in control. This is your punishment, and in an odd moment of realization, you accept it, thighs trembling as your body reaches yet another, warmer orgasm that causes you to cry out, voice sounding foreign to your own ears as your hips jerk, your knees pressed into the leather below the only thing holding you upright-
Or maybe it's Jungkook, who's leaning over your back, arm keeping your front elevated as it rests against your collarbone.
When did he move?
When did he shed his top?
Your core feels empty, and your legs feel wet. Is ge not wearing pants anymore? You can feel something touch you, hot and heavy against your thigh, and it must be him.
You want him. Where'd that toy go that was inside you seconds ago?
You’re still breathing heavily, cheeks still wet from the tears you didn’t even realize had fallen from your eyes. Your lashes are still coated in them, wet and heavy, when Jungkook kisses your neck from behind you, a reminder that he’s still there.
Just like he always promises. He never let’s you feel lonely.
“That's it.” He praises. “Hold onto me like that. I’ll keep your body safe while you let go.” He chuckles, and only now do you notice the iron grip you have on his forearm over your chest, nails digging into his skin. You feel a bit bad for it.
Though you just lessen your strength a bit, not letting go.
Suddenly, his other arm moves, grabs something out of sight, before he runs the object through your slick-coated cunt and thighs, covering it in your arousal before it prods at your still clenching hole.
“You think I won’t fit?” He purrs against your neck, and you swallow thickly, a strange cocktail or anticipation and worry mixing in your body. “You think I won’t claim this cunt as mine at the end of this week?” He asks again, and you can feel the wave if cool excitement wash over you- starting at your very neck, before it ends in the tips of your toes.
“I’ll teach your body to take me..” He almost chuckles, pushing the very tip of the clear pink toy inside, before he moves it back out- Pushing it in a little further each time. “I’ll make sure to get you all ready for me..” he hums sensually, by now having learned of your little kinks you have, as the hand from his arm still keeping your upper body pressed against his own finds one of your tits, groping the soft flesh before his thumb flicks the sensitive bud once to see you squirm.
“I won’t let you forget any of this.” He threatens almost, and you whine when you feel him push the toy even further now.
You feel so full. How much more is there to go?
“Jung-” you whine pitifully, eyes closed as your hips can’t stay still, all of it a stark difference to the fast paced, almost aggressive orgasm he’s given you just moments prior. “I cant-” you start, and he laughs.
“Oh you can.” He tells you, before he gives the toy another push. “And you will.” He purrs, and its then that you feel the base of the toy against your lower lips.
You swear you can feel it in your stomach- and for some odd reason, you like it.
"You're made for me." He chuckles, kisses at your neck and cheek before he bites, toy leaving your cunt with only the tip before he moves it back in, feeling of a Rollercoaster ride making your insides jump and eyes roll back. You can't think anymore, you can only feel- and right now, you feel just so used in the best kind of way.
Somehow, he makes your worst nightmares come true- but they're not nightmares anymore, just dreams, vibrant and pleasant. Exciting. New.
It could be so easy to replace the toy with himself right now- but he doesn't, because that's one of his own rules he will never break. Your trust in him is precious, it's a gift- and he won't tarnish that by simply being greedy for more than you want to offer.
"Jung.." you huff, swallowing down saliva before you can say anything at all. "Jungkook-.. please-" you beg, unsure how to phrase it.
"What is it?" He asks, moves to nuzzle your neck so softly- a stark contract to his constant push and pull with the clear pink dildo he's using to give you a taste of his own length one day doing the same. Filling you up. Probably even better? You can imagine him all warm and slicked up from your wetness, stretching you open and making you feel so full you can hardly breathe.
"More.. f- faster-" you request. "Please?" You add on, and he chuckles.
"See?" His breath fans over your neck. "You can be such a good girl." He teases, pressing the replica as deep as it can reach inside you, base pushing against your skin. "Where were your manners today?" He wonders. "Will I always have to ruin this cunt to remind you where your place is?" He asks, and you nod, shamelessly so.
"Yes!" You whimper, mind somewhere else by now entirely as you struggle to keep yourself still. "Yes- I.. I forget-" you huff out, and he laughs as he runs his lips over your shoulder, piercing a distinct contrast to his softer lips.
"Then let me remind you, darling." He hums against your jot and sweating skin. "You're mine, in this moment. And I decide what to do with you... or to you." He tells you, and you nod, legs quivering.
Only for him to move the toy back to have it slip out, hole gaping at him, closing around nothing. The sigh is everything he ever needed or wanted- cunt all red and flushed, lower lips swollen and glistening, and he has to imagine his own seed staining your skin, mixing with your own arousal staining the couch and your legs.
His cock twitches at the sight, a drop of precum escaping him without control.
But what he does have control over is the rest of himself, as he pushes the toy back inside, causing your toes to curl, especially once he moves it in a faster, steadier pace. It short-circuits your brain, everything around you smelling of sex as he uses the replica to give you a taste of what he could give you.
Your arousal foams up around the base of the pink silicone, creating a ring of white as you cream up from his pace.
The orgasm you reach from this is different, as if it happens somewhere else in your body- though his hand is quick to flick your sensitive pearl to send you off with a proper goodbye, soil leaving your body as you quiver and lose all control one last time, body giving out as he lets you lay down now, muscles twitching from the overuse.
And it only takes him one good pump on his own cock to make him spurt his release onto your back, where his lips kiss up your spine in his post-orgasmic fever.
He's drunk off of you. He's never even had full on sec with you yet- and he's already addicted.
You've got no idea what you're doing to him.
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In the bathtub, his hand is a lot softer as it runs over your body, cleaning you and nurturing this blossoming feeling you're growing for him.
You're both back from your respective highs, world slowly bleeding back into reality as you simply exist in the warm water for now. "Was that alright?" He asks you, and you nod.
"It was.. new." You say, voice echoing in the bathroom, together with the sound of water sloshing everytime he moves. "I didn't think I'd enjoy what you did- but I did."
"How so?" He wonders, wanting to know hour thoughts now that your brain is functional again. Feedback is important now more than ever after all- he has to still figure out how to navigate this new experience with you.
"I thought.. it would feel, you know, degrading." You explain. "To be used." You clarify, and he nods, carefully moving your hair to see the side of your face better. "But it didn't. It felt more.. as if I was.. of service? Is that the right word?" You wonder, and he chuckles.
"Its how I feel in my position as well, you know." He answers. "Knowing that what I offer gives you pleasure.. is enough for me." He shrugs, and you stretch your legs, cramps finally letting up. "You looked so pretty.." he teases, and you whine.
"I was crying like a baby!" You argue, turning around a bit-
Though you're caught off guard by the terribly soft look he offers you, hand reaching out to hold your cheek.
"Thats because you are my baby." He says-
Making you cry once more.
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notjoelmiller · 12 days
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i cared
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MDNI simon "ghost" riley x f!reader summary: three and a half years ago and an ocean away, he tore you apart. now he's turned up at your door. wordcount: 4.1k warnings: smut (fingering), drinking, AFAB reader, possible past dub-con (reader was in a bad mental state and simon knew), simon is a shitty guy in this, talk of hypothetical suicide, talk of past bad mental state (depression), mentioned PTSD, heartbreak on both sides, death mention (MW:III canon) a/n: hey remember when i said that my next fic would be joel and i posted a little insert. that was a lie! instead of working on that (12k word, currently) monster, i wrote something else. if you couldn't tell, i started this before the holidays and then forgot about it.
ao3
The house is much nicer than Simon anticipated. When he saw the New York City address, he had expected you to be crammed into a shitty 6th-floor walk-up. But no, not you. Instead, you have an honest-to-God three-story home with red brick delicately dusted with snow. You certainly couldn’t afford it on the 141 salary. He always suspected you came from means. This just confirms it. It just makes him wonder why the hell you decided to slum it in the services for so long.
It reminds Simon that he shouldn’t be there. You weren't made for that life and left for a reason. Who is he to ruin your peace?
He’s not alone on the street. Well-to-do families of strangers pass by, all watching the masked man observe their neighbor’s home. He can still turn around and leave you to the life you so clearly want.
Something shifts in one of the windows, the curtain being tousled by something. A dog. You got a dog– a golden retriever with sharp eyes and, evidently, an even sharper bark. The canine goes berserk, barking and howling and growling at Simon through the window. It’s Simon’s cue to leave, to leave you be with your semi-rabid, semi-domestic canine.
But before he can move, the curtain shifts again– pulled this time –and you’re there. You squint for a moment, surely wondering what masked freak is standing in your walkway like he owns the damn place. He lets you scrutinize him. It’s now or never. Either you’ll tell him to fuck off once you realize who he is or you’ll call the police on him, though it’s not like they would do anything after he calls Kate.
Instead, you disappear behind the curtain, your loyal steed of a dog following hot on your heels. In a moment’s notice, the large front door, with a gilded knocker and door knob open. You beckon him in. He follows, eyes trailing up and down your body once you’re facing away from him. You’re dressed casually but smartly in a short denim skirt and cashmere sweater. Simon’s never seen you in that getup before, even when going out to the pub.
“Shoes off,” you order, motioning towards the neat shoe rack next to the door. They’re all women's shoes of the same size. Simon’s shoulders relax, and he slips off his boots. It was for the best, he figures. His old boots would have just dragged dirt into your space. He takes off his mask too, hanging it up with his jacket. It’s nothing you haven't seen before.
Simon follows you into the sitting room– at least, that’s what Simon guesses the room is. It’s too neat for your taste, or his memory of what your taste is exactly. The couch and single chair seem untouched, the air still, like Simon’s presence is cutting through some sacred stillness.
You point to a couch and Simon obeys, sitting with his hands on his knees. Your eyes lock with his without granting him any semblance of your thoughts. Simon keeps his gaze soft, neutral. You can scrutinize him all you need.
You sigh, straightening your posture. A smile pulls at your lips. Your smile lines crease deeper than he remembered. Or maybe they always creased that deep.
“Tea?”
***
“He’s quite protective,” you drop two sugar cubes into a cup of tea. The spoon in your hand lets out a delicate tink as it hits the porcelain cup. You hand Simon the teacup, it’s just how he likes it. “Always has his haunches raised, even when he’s not working.”
Ah. A service animal. He’s surprised to not have put that together sooner. Always loyal, the pooch plants himself at your feet, gaze burning into Simon. If looks could kill…
“Your home?” Simon asks. He lifts the teacup to his lips and sips. Simon places the teacup on its saucer impossibly slowly. Simon can’t believe you’d trust him with something so delicate.
“I inherited it.”
A smile creeps on Simon’s face. Teacups and generational wealth. He always knew you were posh. Or whatever Americans call posh.
“You’re on holiday?” You ask.
“‘Tis the season.”
You hum. Your house is the only one on the block without some sort of holiday decor. Simon wonders if it was a pointed decision.
“And you came here.” Why?
He can’t tell you the truth. The fact is that every day since you left– all one thousand two hundred ninety-eight of them since John uttered to his fuming lieutenant that you just weren’t fit to serve any more –he’s ached. One thousand two hundred ninety-eight days of no contact. Of his only proof that you ever existed being a photo and a tear-stained note with one sentence scribbled in ink: John has contact info– emergencies only.
“I wanted to wish you a happy holidays.”
You laugh dryly, though it sends a pang of pain through Simon. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that sound. “Usually people send a card for that.”
You observe Simon with precision, like you never left the force, though the way you scratch Yogi’s belly unconsciously betrays the hardened exterior. It’s a glimpse into the last three and a half years. Of the woman you’ve become– so foreign to Simon. Foreign to your past self. Or not. Maybe this is who you’ve been all along, just hidden behind fatigues. Maybe the woman Simon thought he knew was just a farce. Rich girl playing army for a few years.
Maybe you joined the force just to fuck around for a bit. After a few years, you’d have stories to tell your socialite friends back home. Except, you didn’t get what you wanted, didn’t you? Simon knows well and good that serving, the 141, and him, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, destroyed something in you. 
You tap the porcelain of your teacup. It makes a pleasant ding. “Did John tell you where to find me?”
“No. Well–” Simon tries to tell you the truth without throwing his comrade under the bus. The truth was, John had indulged in one too many drinks at the pub one night and hadn’t locked his quarters. An envelope addressed to you sat front in center on his desk. “Not intentionally.”
It’s a satisfying enough answer. Only a small twinge of annoyance crosses your face before you hum. “This isn’t a guilt thing, right Simon?” You ask, “I didn’t do what I did because of what happened.”
“What we did back then, on the field,” Simon traps you under his gaze. His stare is aggressive, but he hopes it conveys the intense feelings he’s struggling with. “I can’t just leave it. That’s why I came.”
Simon doesn’t dare speak. He doesn’t dare breathe while he watches you process his words. It’s a load of crap, he knows it, and he knows you know it. It’s just a matter of whether or not you want to kick him out.
You smize, teeth coming out to tug at your bottom lip. “Have you ever had New York pizza?”
***
You order two pies, hushing Simon when he insists it’s too much. You were right. Two isn’t enough. Simon scarfs down one pie without coming up for air. It’s delicious. It isn’t until he’s four slices deep that he realizes that you, smiling widely at him, haven’t yet picked up your first.
You’re a gracious host– a natural, really. You perch yourself on the kitchen island, legs crossed in a way that makes your skirt ride so sinfully up your thighs. Simon doesn’t look of course, he’s a gentleman. At least, he is for the first bottle of the ungodly expensive red wine you procure. It’s then that you perch your leg on the counter opposite your spot on the island, right next to Simon. Old habits die hard– especially when inebriated –and Simon places a hand on your leg, massaging the skin of your ankle.
You pay no mind to Simon’s ministrations, though, lost in the domestic bliss and mindless conversations you’ve probably been drowning yourself in for the last few years. You wave the glass of wine wildly about, like you wouldn’t give a damn if it spilled all over your expensive clothes. It seems so natural for you. Simon wonders what you were ever doing with the 141 when posh city living fits you like a second skin.
Simon inches his hand higher up your leg as you speak. He doesn’t get very far, but it’s enough so that he can trace patterns into the soft skin of your thigh. It’s too much, though, because your eyes lock onto his. But you’re not mad. You don’t tell him to stop. Rather, you examine him, and in your eyes Simon sees what looks like mirth.
“I missed this,” Simon says. He cringes at the words leaving his mouth. He’s succumbing to the domestic bliss you’ve created, looking at the past through rose-tinted glasses.
You reach for a third bottle of wine and a corkscrew, furrowing your brow in thought while twisting the screw. “I didn't want to abandon you,” you say. Simon, watching you pop the cork off with ease, almost forgets that you’re talking to him until you lock eyes. He watches you sniff the cork, pause, then sniff it again before topping off your glass. You take a heaping swig, like that Pinot Noir worth more than Simon’s monthly pay is unremarkable. “I left for a reason, you know.”
Oh, Simon certainly knows. The rumors had been inescapable in the first weeks of your absence. All around base every soldier had entertained the question of what happened to the American chick in the 141. Simon had only so many threatening looks to give privates before curiosity got the better of him. He abated the desire to ask John for so long, but there was only so much longing he could handle coupled with the cacophony of voices asking the same thing he desperately wanted to know.
John didn’t flounder when Simon finally came to him, demanding to know why you left.
She was discharged.
Why?
For… mental reasons.
Simon lost his shit in Price’s office that morning. He collapsed onto the couch with a gasp, a hand grasping and squeezing his heart. His breath left him, but Simon was too bloody stupid to understand what the hell was going on until Price was handing him a brown paper bag.
Breathe, son.
“Simon,” you breathe, your saccharine voice the most tantalizing sound Simon has ever heard. You lean forward, your finger tracing the scar parallel to the cut of his jaw. You were there for it, saw the knife slice through his mask and the skin underneath. You bandaged it in the helicopter after, making Simon promise to go to medical afterwards. He promised he would. That night he closed the wound with superglue. “Why did you really come?”
Because you disappeared. Because Price said you were on the brink of becoming a statistic. Because I fucked up. Because I said things I didn’t mean and I thought that it killed you.
“Johnny’s dead,” he lies. But it isn’t a lie. It’s true, sure, Johnny’s been reduced to ashes and scattered in the Scottish highlands. But that isn't why he came.
“I know.” You sniffle. Christ, Simon’s made you cry. Nausea washes over him. A voice in his head screams, fix it, idiot! But emotions were never Simon’s strong suit. Instead, Simon reaches for the bottle and tops off your glass of wine, probably a bit more than he should have, but it seems like you need it.
You mutter a thank you and down a bit more than half of the glass. You come up for air and hiccup. “John told me.”
“Price?” He asks, as though there was any other John. Anything to get you talking rather than crying.
You nod. “He dropped by around Thanksgiving. Asked if I wanted to be there when you all…” You wave your hand in the air, “You know.”
Something ugly festers in his chest. Maybe if he actually went to a therapist, Simon could recognize what it is.
“You said no?” He asks.
“I didn’t think I could.”
Simon nods, holding your gaze in a way that he hopes conveys his sense of understanding.
“How’d it happen?” You croak. Your eyes are glassy, a reminder of the ever-looming threat that you could fall apart again. Simon reminds himself that you wouldn’t be crying if he had just kept his distance.
“Bullet in the head.”
You tense, your head flying to Simon. Your eyes are frantic, searching for something in his face. “He…he…?”
Christ. 
“No, no,” Simon scrambles to get his next words out, “Makarov. It was-” His voice cracks. Unusual. “-was too fast to stop it. To save himself.”
You hum, slumping down like it’s comforting to you that Johnny had his life torn from his arms. Like it’s comforting that Johnny couldn’t go on his own terms, but on the terms of a Russian terrorist.
“You know,” you say like you know he knows, “Johnny’s the reason I got out.”
Simon shifts. Johnny never talked about your discharge, always responding to speculation like he was none the wiser. “He is?”
“Yeah,” you laugh. It’s deep and watery. “Things were…bad one night. He found me. Talked me through the night. Listened to me.” You throw your head back, eyes tracing imaginary patterns on the ceiling.
“He told Price?”
You nod.
“That was after we…”
You nod again. Simon feels sick.
“It had nothing to do with you, Simon.”
“I never thought it did.”
“Then why,” you ask, “did you bring it up?”
Simon shifts. “Thought it was relevant.”
You smile, though your eyes are still lined with tears. “Guilty conscience?”
“Of course not, love,” Simon laughs, hoping you buy it. It works, he thinks. You seem to deflate, slumping a bit. You take some time to think. Simon, panicking at the thought that your self-reflection could send him out the door, pulls out the one trick he has over you.
He lets your legs fall. They bang against the cabinets with a soft umph from your lips. Simon slides off of the counter and stalks your way. You watch him and put up no fight as he slots his wide body between your knees. You don't even complain as the parting of your legs forces your skirt to ride even higher.
Fingers card through Simon’s hair. He hums.
“Why did you do it?” You ask.
Simon tilts his head, and with the wine in his veins and your hand in his hair, the world spins. Your other hand slips under the hem of Simon’s shirt. Warm fingers graze the skin of his stomach and then side, before your hand settles on his back, palm splaying across scarred flesh.
“I–” Simon croaks, “–I felt something for you.”
You snort. Simon’s chest burns and he takes some deep breaths to calm himself. He imagines Price’s paper bag, inflating and crinkling over and over.
“You knew I would leave. That’s it, isn’t it?” You accuse with a gleam in your eyes. “I was in a bad place and was leaving so it didn’t matter if you hit it and quit it.” You laugh. “You got what you wanted without risking your position.”
“That’s not true.”
Your thighs bracket his legs, trapping him against you. Your words curl around your wine-stained tongue. “‘I don’t love you’. Isn’t that what you said Simon?”
“Love–”
You tense, thighs squeezing him like a vice. “Love,” you coo, the imitation of Simon’s long vowels curtles unnaturally on your tongue. “Love, love, love. You know Simon,” you wrap your hands around the back of his neck and lean into the crook of his neck. Your lips brush against his skin as you speak, “You say it, but you’ve never meant it.”
“I’m sorry,” Simon utters, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your skirt.
“You’re not.”
He’s not. He doesn’t argue. He could– should, rather –but he can’t think straight with you this close to him. The scent of your perfume itches the deepest part of his brain. You never wore perfume when on duty, rather, always coated in the aroma of base-issued shampoo and sweat.
“I really cared for you, you know,” you whisper, your lips millimeters from his, them parting when his fingers rub you through the fabric of your underwear.
“I know,” Simon closes the distance, capturing your lips with his.
He pushes you back onto the counter, you let him, lets Simon cage your body like he has the right to. You groan into his mouth when he traps your bottom lip between his teeth and melt when his fingers slip past the hem of your panties, his fingers plunging through the wetness into your cunt.
It’s obscene— the noises you make as he thrusts his fingers into you. With his free hand, Simon pushes your skirt up over your hips so he can watch your cunt squeeze around him.
He slides his thumb up to your clit and you gasp. “Simon,” you moan. He nearly stops. It’s been years since he’s heard you say his name, let alone moan it. Fuck, Simon can’t help but grind his cock against the island counter, groaning.
It doesn’t take much to work you into an orgasm. Before he knows it, your moans become softer, higher pitched, and you’re coming apart, clenching hard on Simon’s fingers.
He works you through your orgasm, whispering praise into your ears. Simon gives you no time before pouncing, fisting his hands in your hair and devouring you. You wiggle underneath his weight, uttering something, but the words are lost into Simon’s mouth. He pulls away, his eyes meeting your expectant ones.
“What?”
“Upstairs,” you say, chest heaving. “My room is upstairs.”
***
Simon wakes before dawn. He’s lying on top of you, your strong breath rocking him up and down. Your limbs are impossibly tangled. He’s reminded of an identical morning, years ago, of what he did then, and what that choice led him to. But that was years ago. You were different then, broken. How was he supposed to know that his choice would make you shatter?
He untangles himself slowly. It feels like the process takes hours, though the sun fails to make an appearance by the time he slips out of bed. The clock reads four in the morning. That explains it. It also explains the way the room around him is spinning slightly. He’s still drunk– or at least buzzed –from the night before.
His pants are an easy find, discarded by the door. His shirt though… Simon spins around the room, eyes glazing over the space. He tries not to take anything in too deeply, too personal for this morning.
He spots his shirt on your vanity. Simon yanks it off, but something hard and heavy comes with it. It nearly drops to the floor, but Simon catches it before it can hit and wake you up.
It’s a perfume bottle, heavy and half-filled. Simon can’t suppress the urge of his half-drunk brain to sniff it. The scent— the scent of you —explodes in his synapses. He tosses a glance over his shoulder, ensuring you’re still asleep, before pocketing the bottle.
The dog follows Simon as he walks through the house. Luckily, as he slips on his shoes, the dog disappears into the rest of the house.
Simon lingers with a hand wrapped around the door knob. It warms under his touch.
“Are we doing this again?”
He flinches at the sound of your voice, “I ‘ave to.” Simon stays facing the door, though he doesn’t make a move to turn around. He knows how he must look to you, too cowardly to face you. He’s reminded of the last time he spent the night with you. He got out scot-free. What would have happened if you found him then? Simon can’t say for certain whether or not he would have left then, if you called out for him in the same delicate voice.
“Stay.”
“What?”
“In New York,” you say, voice dry with sleep. “With me. Get out of the SAS, the 141, all that bullshit.”
“‘S not that easy.”
“It is. I left. You can leave. Or you can stay and end up like Johnny–”
“What do you know about Johnny,’ Simon growls, turning on his heels. He straightens his spine, puffing his chest up like you’re a threat. Your dog buys it, growling and worming himself between you and Simon. You don't take the bait though. You honest to God laugh in Simon’s face.
“I know enough.” You step closer to Simon. The pooch gets the memo, clearing the way for you. Simon almost does the same, he wants to. Some instinctual part of his brain needs to cave to you. “You mean something, Simon,” you flick your eyebrows up, letting them drop immediately. It feels like a challenge, like you were asking Simon the silent question. Do you matter? 
“You’re more than a soldier– more than a body on a field, waiting to drop.” There are tears in your eyes. You don't let them fall. Simon hopes you’ve finally realized that he isn’t worth your heartbreak. He’s never been, but at least your realization would stop his cruel cycle of him chewing you up and spitting you right back out.
“Come to New York, Simon, please. There– there’s a butcher shop up the block, they’re always looking for help. You said you used to do that stuff, right?”
Fucking hell. He had said it to you, years ago after a mission. Simon went drink for drink with Johnny and Gaz and got positively wasted. It was the night he first set his sight on you, when your tenderness sunk its claws into his heart and refused to let go. You didn’t know then what it would lead to. Simon did. Every love Simon had wilted in his claws. Why would you be different?
“Come here,” you plead, “Take the job with them. I can help you find an apartment or you can live with me but–” You grab Simon’s shoulders, tugging. It isn’t strong enough to turn him around, but he does. Your cheeks are wet and eyes glassy as you stare up at him. “Simon, it’s too late for us, but don’t let it be too late for you.”
Simon lifts his hand to your cheek, fingers grazing the plump skin. It slides to the back of your head and tugs– yanks you into his embrace as he crashes your lips against his own. The morning makes you soft though, as Simon nips your lips with his teeth, you melt, softening and slowing your movements.
It’s you that pulls away first, staring at Simon. You let him swipe his finger across your cheek, caressing you.
“Please,” you beg, kissing the palm of his hand.
Simon lets his hand fall from you. It sits achingly cold at his side.
It would be cowardly to leave you without a goodbye after forcing himself back into your life, even if it was for one night. Simon considers himself to be many things, but never a coward. Yet, standing in front of you, staring into your expectant eyes, words don’t come easy.
You step towards him. Simon steps back. The door knob presses into his back. His heart is pounding, the blood in his eyes deafening him. Your scent wafts his way, your perfume. The one whose bottle he knocked over, nearly let slip through his fingers and shatter. The one which you never got to wear in the 141. The one weighing down his back pocket.
“I shouldn’t have come,” Simon says.
He doesn’t look back. Not when you gasp his name. Not when he opens the door. Not when he walks down the snowy street.
Price and Gaz will ask about his holiday. They’re kind like that. In the cab to the airport, passing the bottle of perfume between his hands, Simon considers his answer. Single word answers are his forté, but won’t suffice with the prying curiosities of his captain and sergeant.
The answer comes to him when he sniffs the perfume once more.
In the coming week, when Gaz claps him on the back, he will ask, “How was the holiday, Ghost?”
Simon will answer, “I had a meal with an old friend.”
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ssturniolo · 3 months
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could u write something where reader is going through a sort of depressive episode where like trader just kinda feels hopeless and stuff and is pushing chris away and so he doesn’t understand why until matt like points it out and so chris then feels bad and comforts reader sorry if this is long😭
Everything’ll be alright
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𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Chris x fem!reader
𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - request <3
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - mentions of depression, bad mental health, Chris being oblivious, not proofread
Everything in your life has just been going wrong. Or at least it’s felt that way. Simple everyday tasks have grown increasingly difficult to do and every waking moment is it’s own battle. You’ve had no contact with the outside world in who knows how long, not even your own boyfriend. It just seems as though nobody cares and that, along with everything else is slowly destroying you.
Only leaving your bed to use the bathroom and grab another bag of chips that will eventually be thrown to the side uneaten, has been how you’ve been living for awhile now. You’re filled with this overwhelming feeling of despair and it just won’t go away. At war with your own mind, and there doesn’t seem to be a light at the end of this tunnel. Just a dead end.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** **
Chris lays on the couch, scrolling through Instagram while hoping that you’ll answer one of his million texts. He knows you’re pushing him away but he can’t figure out why. What did he do wrong? You’re his first girlfriend and he’s so afraid to loose you but he doesn’t know what’s wrong or what to do.
“Me and Nick are going to McDonald’s if you want to bring y/n,” Matt calls as he grabs his keys off the counter.
“No that’s ok, I don’t think she’d want to” Chris reply’s, not looking up from his phone.
“But I thought she loves McDonald’s? I haven’t heard from her in awhile, how’s she doing?” Matt asks, his voice laced with concern.
“I wouldn’t know” Chris mumbles, clearly hurt.
Every once in awhile you kind of disappear but you’ve never done it for this long, let along not talking to Chris at all.
“Did you guys break up?” Matt asks gently as he sits by Chris on the couch.
“No but she ghosted me” Chris starts, pressing his palms into his eyes. “She’s completely disappeared off of social media, and never answers my texts or calls even when it says she’s active.”
Worry is painted across Matt’s features as he watches his brother fight off tears.
“Chris I think you should go check up on her. Y/n wouldn’t do this without a really good reason and I think she’s really struggling right now. I’ll bring you on the way to McDonald’s ok?”
Chris never thought about that fact you might not be doing well, he was more concerned about you ignoring him.
“Ok, let’s go.”
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** **
You’ve been curled up on your bed, staring at the same spot on your wall for what’s seemed like forever. How long exactly? You have no clue. Your only telling of time was whether there was light peeking through the blinds, or if everything was just swallowed in darkness.
The creak of the door to your room opening startles you out of your dazed state, confused as you hadn’t heard anyone come into your apartment.
“Hey there princess” a familiar voice whispers as he shuts the door behind him.
Chris.
Without another word, he climbs into your bed, snaking his arms around you, holding you close against his chest. And that’s all it took for you to burst into tears, wetting his t-shirt as you cry into his chest.
“I’m trapped Chris, I’m trapped” you manage to cry out in between sobs.
“I don’t know what to do”
“Everything will be alright baby, we’ll figure this out together, I’ve got you” he whispers soothingly into your hair.
There’s a terrible pressure on your chest, you feel everything and nothing at the same time, and your whole life seems to be crumbling down in front of you, but Chris is there. Right besides you through it all just like he’s always been. The world could be falling apart and he’d be there, ready to hold you in his arms and tell you everything will be alright.
Right now, all you need is Chris and he doesn’t plan on leaving anytime soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thank you for the request my love 🫶🏻
XOXO - Zoe
Tag-list ⬇️
@dwntwn-strnlo @soleilsturniolos @mbbsgf @gabbylovesreading @0-r-a-y-0 @sturn3g1rl @lvrsparadise @taylorssfilmsss @emssturniolo @ilovemattsturn @nickenthusiast @itsaaliyah2 @thetriplets3 @urfavstromboli
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yonderly-alamort · 1 year
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yeah but, yandere therapist?! 😳
i'm sorry this may sound horrible but, the way he would play with my mind??,, i'm in love 😩 (send requests here!)
・✶ 。゚𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐓 ;
cw: nonprofessional relationship, patient favoritism, isolation, manipulation, gaslighting, etc.
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𖣠 YANDERE THERAPIST! who has been almost enraptured by you since your first session, the feeling intensifying with each consultation to the point of making cancellations with the excuse of helping you, although deep down he only cared about spending as much time as possible by your side.
𖣠 YANDERE THERAPIST! who always puts all his attention on you when speaking to him and asking for advice. however, when you talk about the problems in your relationship with your partner he always ends up convincing you that the only solution is to end it, in order to end up being his, of course.
𖣠 YANDERE THERAPIST! who, breaking the professional relationship rule outside the cabinet, has told you so many times: "angel, don't cry... they clearly didn't love you as much as i do; i'll help you over the heartbreak" or "i know you loved them, darling, but can't you see that you're better with me?"
𖣠 YANDERE THERAPIST! who even if it's not even in an official relation with you still tries to control everything around u, arriving to the point of isolating you. at first you were kinda weirded out (of course) but he said it was everything for your sake.
𖣠 YANDERE THERAPIST! who is actually very aware of his decaying and perturbing mental state. and also of the health of yours because of his job. but that's pretty much favorable for him, yk, so he can mold your mind as he likes <3
𖣠 YANDERE THERAPIST! who takes advantage of that and whenever you try and go against him doesn't even get mad for your bratty attitude, but loves loves loves turning the tables and make your thoughts switch confusedly. the only thing he has to do is say a few words and your reality will magically change, isn't that amazing?
"you must have misunderstood everything babe, 'cause that's not how i remember it, you know?"
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© yonderly alamort 2022. please do not modify, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my permission.
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agoodroughandtumble · 2 months
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Can You Be Good For Me? - Zoro x F!Reader Oneshot
Status: Complete
Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader
Summary: Drunken confessions
Warning(s): 18+ Language, alcohol
“Can you be good for me?” The words sloshed in your mouth just like the sake that had caused them to slur out. Half-lidded eyes searched Zoro’s, too drunk to care about the implications of the meaning but too sober to allow him to brush it off.
Zoro’s eyebrows furrowed, “I’m always good to you.”
You rolled your eyes and took another drink. That wasn’t what you were saying and he should know that. A frustrated groan left your lips. “You know what I mean.”
His look of confusion slowly melted into one of amused affection. It was obvious you were at least tipsy which usually meant this was one of the few times you not only acknowledged emotions but actively sought to discuss them. Perhaps some other man would be annoyed at the slightly inebriated confrontation and the fact you could never really day what was on your mind without the inhibition breaking alcohol. But Zoro welcomed it. He knew you well enough to know that this wasn’t malicious – keeping your guard up and youe emotions at bay had kept you safe. Allowing yourself to drop your guard, allowing yourself to be vulnerable only told him how much you trusted him, how much you trusted him to be your safeguard.
He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him, thigh touching thigh. And although you were still annoyed at his lack of a solid answer you were quietly relishing in the close proximity and physical contact. You mentally stopped yourself. That was the entire problem. You were becoming far too comfortable and far too physically reliant on someone who your drunken state of mind would describe as having the emotional capacity of a brick. Maybe that was being too harsh, or maybe Zoro had been fucking you for a month without ever venturing further than “I like you, you know I do.”
the first two weeks had been fine. Just sex. Just really fucking good sex. Just scratching an itch and indulging the obvious tension between the pair of you. And then your stupid heart had to get involved. All of a sudden you were craving his attention, desperate to be near him, to understand him on na level no one else could. You got jealous and needy and fantasised about all of the things he could, should say to you. You were fucked.
So of course you had done what any sane person would have done – ignored, repressed, kept fucking him even though every time broke your heart but fuck the way he looked at you in those moments. The way his hands clung onto your hips, your waist, your thighs as he came inside you. The way he whispered into your ear, telling you to let go, he’s got you, just show me, as you came completely undone around him. The fucking eye contact, the fucking moans because you were so clearly made for his cock, and his alone. You let yourself endure the heartbreak. You let yourself fall completely in love with him if it meant those stolen, secret moments could last forever.
But, as there was always a but, the alcohol in your system was giving you a rare sense of confidence and you wriggled out of his grasp slightly – albeit not enough that your thigh no longer touched his – you would allow yourself that much. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Zoro wasn’t entirely sure what you getting at, “I said I’m always good to you.”
You let out a loud sigh, “Yes, but are you good for me?”
His hand cupped your jaw, feeling you automatically tense against his touch. His heart hurt at your reaction, even more so because he didn’t know what he’d done wrong. God, he fucking loved you but you weren’t half infuriating sometimes. “Y/N,” his voice softened as he tried to soothe the tension by caressing your jaw with his thumb, “Stop being cryptic and just tell me what’s wrong.”
You gulped. Selfishly you had been hoping Zoro would be annoyed. That he’d accuse you of being too drunk, too emotional, too hard to deal with and you’d talk about it tomorrow. You could deal with that. Arguing and confrontation would be a hell of a lot easier to deal with than actually saying what you meant – admitting it out loud, making all of the thoughts and feelings real. You could take anything over that. You could handle his rejection if it was because you were being an argumentative arsehole. You couldn’t handle the rejection if it was because he just didn’t love you back.
You bit your lip, the confidence the sake had given you long gone. If it wasn’t for his hand burning against your skin you would have run away but fuck when we was looking at you so fucking earnestly how could you say anything but the truth. “I want you to be good for me not to me because,” you screwed your eyes shut but delaying the inevitable was nigh on impossible, “Because I love you. I’m in love with you, Zoro.”
A pause. An agonizingly long, heart-breaking, soul-crushing pause. You clenched your fists trying to mentally prepare yourself for the “gentle” let down. And then … Zoro laughed. Laughed.
You jerked away from him. A rejection was expected but laughing at you was just fucking cruel. You felt sick. How had you let yourself be to stupid? How had you allowed yourself to fall in love with someone so heartless? You were such an idiot. You stood up to walk away but Zoro grabbed your wrist. Tears threatened to spill. What more could he want now? How much did he honestly want to humiliate you?
“Where are you going?” His voice sounded sincere but you weren’t blind to it any more.
“Away. Where do you think?”
Zoro pulled you back and infuriatingly you stumbled into him. His arms found your waist again to steady you. “You can’t say that and run away. Not to me.”
You wanted to hit him or the table or yourself, anything to get rid of even the smallest fraction of your anger. “You laughed, Zoro. You laughed at me so, and I mean this nicely – go fuck yourself.”
“Hey! Hey…” the hand on your waist started rubbing circles along your spine. Despite yourself the sensation was managing to calm you down. “You’re being an idiot and-”
You tensed again, “So I’m a joke and an idiot? Thanks.”
Zoro sighed and used his other hand to brush your hair behind your ear. “You’re not a joke.” His hand moved down to linger against your neck. “But you are an idiot if you think I laughed at you. I laughed at the ridiculousness of this situation.”
Against your better judgement you relaxed against him, knowing full well you were going to regret this in the morning.
“Y/N, look at me. I laughed because it’s …” he sighed and leant forward to press his forehead against yours, “It’s a cosmic fucking joke that everyone else can see how much I fucking love you except you.”
Another pause. Only this time the onus was on you. “Oh.”
Zoro’s eyebrows raised in amusement, “Oh? At least laughing is more than one syllable.”
A blush rushed across your cheeks and you pressed your lips together to keep from smiling too widely. “Maybe we should forget talking for now, lest it leads to any other misunderstandings.” With that you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. And didn’t stop kissing him.
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theodorecanaryhood · 3 months
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Protective, possessive and Passionate
Jason Todd x Male! Reader
Warning: swearing, drinking and sex
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It was no secret that your boyfriend, Jason, is extremely protective of you. He likes to make sure you’re safe, even if he is in the line of fire, he also wants you to always remember that you’re his.
‘See how that looks’ Jason turned your face a little so you could see clearly the red mark on your neck.
Jason always marked his territory for other men to see, for them to know you’re off limits.
Jason drove you to work, holding your hand in his, you never complained and always thought it cute. A guy as big as Jason, to be so needy and like a puppy at times.
‘Have a great day, love you’ Jason spoke softly as he kissed you.
‘Bye, love you too’ you replied as you got out of the car.
Your work day was filled with the usual nonsense that entails. Making you spend all of your working hours wishing for some sleep.
Everyone has that part of the day that they dread, yours happened to be a coworker. Adam. He never left the fact he likes you hidden.
‘Hey, how was your weekend?’ He asked, smiling at you.
‘Hey, it was fine. Had dinner with my boyfriend’s family. Yours?’ You asked to be polite, not really caring about the answer.
Adam knew that you have a boyfriend, but he never seemed to care. He still tried to get it on with you.
He’d worked there for about a year now and still took every chance he could, as it was coming up to the office work party, you prayed that Jason could make it.
Perhaps the size of Jason would make Adam back off, Jason is big dude and can be pretty scary at times.
Jason held onto your thigh as you both watched Netflix, the newest show you both thought to watch sucked you right in.
‘Shall we go to bed?’ Jason asked as the credits began to roll, you sleepily nodded.
Getting into bed with Jason was always something amazing, he would hold onto you so tight.
The huge puppy that is Jason liked to hold onto you all night. Never letting you out of his sight, or his grip.
You hadn’t let it bother you too much, you were just thankful that Jason was able to come with you. Protect from the lustful eyes of Adam.
Jason knelt onto the floor as he found your shoe laces were coming undone.
‘Hey lovebirds’ your work-bestie, Naomi, smiled as she greeted you both.
Giving you both a hug and a kiss in the cheek, you placed your hand on Naomi’s small baby bump.
‘Not long to go now’ you chuckled as she smiled, lifting her top to show off her new accessory.
The three of you walked into the building together as you found it dimly lit, music playing and a bartender on site already.
‘Thank God, I need a drink’ Jason stated as he made a beeline for the bar.
‘Can I get two whiskeys please? And a lemonade?’ Jason winked as Naomi rolled her eyes with a small smile.
‘Oh fuck’ the words fell out of your mouth like vinegar.
Naomi stroked your arm gently as she blocked you from Adam’s sight.
Jason was aware of what this coworker was doing, but he didn’t know what he looked like. Or if he was coming.
‘Oh hey you, how’s it going?’ Adam cheered as he saw you standing with Naomi.
You smiled as Adam leant towards you, seemingly unaware of the 6ft plus giant next to you both.
‘Another coworker?’ Jason asked curiously, you nodded. Hesitating the next few words.
‘This is Adam’ you took Jason’s hand in yours as you saw his face switch.
The three of you tried your best to stay away from him, but Adam always ended up near you somehow.
‘Hey babe, gotta get going home or I won’t want to get up ever again’ Naomi smiled softly as she gave you a hug.
‘You two rest up’ you winked as Naomi left, all the while with Jason in the bathroom.
This left you alone for a few minutes which you would find scary. You had mental words with yourself, Adam is only a man, nothing more. But he still bothered you.
‘Where’s your boyfriend?’ Adam asked as he came and sat next to you.
You pointed to the bathroom door, Adam only edged closer to you.
You shifted a little in your seat as you felt Adam get closer to you, his body heat felt like it was setting you on fire.
‘You know, four years is a long time to be with one person. Maybe you should have a little break from him. I could show you a good time’ Adam spoke as you felt disgusted.
His words were like venom and you could feel yourself getting close to doing something you’d get into trouble for later.
‘Come on y/n, let’s have some fun while your man isn’t here. He’s a wimp who doesn’t deserve you’ Adam continued.
The smell of Whiskey was strong from Adam’s breath, he’d been drinking tons and not seeming to stop. Though, him drinking didn’t make a difference as he was like this sober.
Before you could say anything in response there was a giant hand that had taken hold of Adam’s shirt collar.
‘Don’t touch my boyfriend again, don’t even look at him. You disrespect him like that, you get me to deal with and I can assure you, you don’t want that’ Jason growled lowly in Adam’s ear.
You could tell from Adam’s face that he was regretting his words, the tower that is Jason was now in his face. Eyes looking deep into his soul.
It was a success as Adam had finally got the message, but Jason was still angry.
Needing to blow off some steam, Jason drove you both home. Jason threw you on the bed when you both got in. Practically lifting you off your feet and carrying you there.
‘Get in all fours for me baby’ Jason said, anger still present but he spoke with love towards you.
Jason wasn’t angry with you, he never could bring himself to be. He was angry that another guy had the audacity to try it with you.
‘Uh’ you called out as Jason slid his length into you, your eyes rolled back.
‘Who does this belong to?’ Jason asked, as he began to find a rhythm.
‘You, Jason. I’m all yours’ you called out, Jason smiled as he gave your asscheek a good slap.
Your phone lit up as it rested next to you in the bed. Jason checked to see it was Snapchat.
Snap from Adam.25 was all it said, Jason smiled to himself as he punched in your code to unlock the phone.
Still with his huge dick deep inside your ass, you were too busy moaning in pleasure to notice what was going on.
Jason snapped you on all fours as Jason hit it from behind, your fingers gripping onto the pillows, you biting your lip to stop yourself from letting out moans.
‘He busy, text back later’ Jason typed into the phone with one hand, clicking send.
Then tossing your phone back where it was as he slammed deeper into you.
‘Fuck, Jason’ you called out as Jason got even deeper.
Safe to say Adam got the message and never tried anything in with you again, he also got a word from HR after a sexual harassment complaint was logged.
You were thankful that Jason could be so Protective, Possessive and also how passionate he is. You would’ve preferred for Jason to not make a statement with you on all fours. But it worked.
You smiled as you fell asleep on Jason’s chest that night, him holding you as he buried himself into a new book.
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fandomfix13 · 5 months
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Get Him Back - Rafe Cameron 18+
* HI ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE IVE WRITTEN ANYTHING BUT IM HERE NOW
* TBH THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT SO BARE WITH ME
* This is so super long and also completely filthy at parts SO MDNI and pls read warnings
* little bit of fluff? Def some pretty smutty smut. This did not start out as smut but here we are
* WRITTEN IN Y/N’s POV, lots of dialogue
*anything in italics is your inner monologue
Word count: 4K
WARNINGS: MDNI!, mentions of cheating (not rafe), toxic ex,  oral (giving and receiving), fingering, rough-ish??, p in v sex, hair pulling, light choking??, not rated e for everyone
The rain is pouring down in sheets. Falling harder than it has in a while. My head is pounding from holding back tears, that I might as well let out. I never thought that I would be in this situation. Forced out of my boyfriend's car after a fight at nearly one in the morning, with a dead phone, left to walk home alone in the pouring rain. How cliche. Not to mention the fact that I’m just over three miles away from home. What a dick. Some “man” he is to leave me like that. For all he cares, I could be kidnapped out here. However, it's highly unlikely being that I’m wandering in one of (if not the nicest) neighborhoods in this entire state. Constantly guarded by a neighborhood watch, with gated community after gated community.
 I can see the the sharp rain plummeting down in the glow of the street lights. Unlucky for me, the wind has picked up too making this walk even more miserable. At this point, I have two options; 1. I could continue to walk home in this miserable weather OR 2. I could lose all dignity and show up to Sarah’s house after not talking to her in months. Seeing as this storm is showing absolutely no sign of stopping, its looking like the second option is better. As I turn the corner, I approach the Seabrook Gated Community. A little ways down is the fence that Sarah and I used to hop all the time when we would sneak out. That’s my in. It’s an old rusty fence that is hidden behind some overgrown hedges behind some wildly overpriced house that rarely ever has anyone living in it.         
After nearly slipping off of the slippery fence, I make my way down the street to Tanny Hill. Mentally preparing myself for the absolute humiliation that will occur if Sarah opens the front door. We had our falling out about 3 months ago and we haven't spoken since. We have tried our best to avoid each other at all costs. At least I’ve tried avoiding her, that is, until this very moment. 
As I approach the front lawn, I genuinely consider turning around and quite literally braving the storm and walking home. As it is, I’m already soaked from head to toe and probably on the verge of pneumonia. However, I shake off my thoughts and walk towards the front door. I knock three times in hope that someone will hear. I don’t ring the doorbell out of fear of waking up the entire Cameron household which is the last thing I need to do. After a few seconds, nobody answers. This house is huge maybe they are coming. I convince myself that nobody is answering the door so I turn accepting my fate and I walk away. Suddenly, I hear the front door unlock and my breath gets caught in my throat when I hear his voice. 
“Y/N? Is that you?” Fuck. Me.
“Hey Rafe.” I choke out. God I probably look insane.
“What are you doing here?” he looks at his phone “at 1:26 in the morning.”
“Um. Is Sarah home?” I spit out, trying to avoid conversation.
“She’s not…but I am.” He leans against the door frame looking me up and down in a ‘you good?’ way. “You also didn’t answer my question.” He adds.
“I uh…I didn’t know where else to go.” I say quietly. I was right. This is in fact humiliating. He just stands there and stares at me. Clearly unamused at the fact that I still haven't answered his question as to why I am standing on his front porch looking like a wet dog. I would stare too. “Are you gonna let me inside? Or are you just gonna keep staring at me in silence.” I add.
“That depends.” He says lookin back into the house then back at me. “Are you gonna tell me why you’re here? Or are you just gonna avoid the question.” Touche. We stand here in silence for a moment as he watches me get pelted in the face by the rain and I chatter my teeth. He finally pushes the door open further and gestures for me to come inside. Thank go Sarah isn’t home because I would be shitting myself out of embarrassment right now. I walk in and Rafe opens a hallway in the closet as he reaches in and grabs a towel that he throws at me. “If You get anything wet, Rose will lose her shit.” 
“How kind.” I say with strong notes of sarcasm.
“Hey I didn’t have to let you in. I could've just left you outside on your own.” he’s right.
“Well you wouldn’t be the first guy to leave me outside tonight, so I probably would’ve been fine” I blurt out without thinking. What happened to me tonight is none of his business. Plus I’m sure he will hear about it anyway. However, he did let me inside which he did not have to do, so I could at least pretend to be grateful. 
“Damn. That's rough. Sorry about that.” he almost sounded embarrassed.
“No, it's fine. Thanks for the towel.” he nods and sits down at the kitchen counter. We stand in silence for a bit as I ring my hair out into the sink. This couldn’t be more awkward. Here I am standing in my ex best friend’s house with her older brother, who was in fact my first kiss in a game of truth or dare years ago, and who happens to be the best friend of my boyfriend who just dumped me on the side of the road in the middle of the night. This is just grand. “Do you have a phone charger? My phone is completely dead.” 
“Uh yeah its upstairs. Do you wanna-” he cut himself off before speaking again. “Do you just wanna come up with me so you can change?” Right. So. Apparently this absolutely CAN  feel more awkward. Whatever. I need to charge my phone and honestly a change of clothes sounds devine. I silently follow Rafe up the stairs and into his room. “If you want you can take a shower to warm up. Your teeth haven’t stopped chattering since you got here.” he’s being frighteningly nice. 
“Um sure.” I say hesitantly as I am incredibly confused by his nice attitude. I plug in my phone and Rafe hands me one of his old t-shirts and a pair of booty shorts that were surely left here by some random girl, but honestly I don’t care. I have to get out of these clothes. “Thanks.” I say taking the clothes and entering his bathroom, closing and locking the door quickly behind me. Literally what the fuck. There is no way this is really happening. 
I take my time in the shower as I let the steaming hot water warm me up for a while. When I’m done, I put on the clothes that Rafe gave me, and open the bathroom door seeing him sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone.
“Hey Topper called you like five times when you were in the shower.” He says unfazed. My attitude shifts almost immediately. 
“You didn’t answer it did you?” I blurt out. Nice job y/n! That wasn’t suspicious at all!
“No…why would I?” he laughs clearly confused as I let out a sigh  of relief. Once again. Awkward silence. I take a seat on the edge of the bed going through my phone. “Are you gonna call him back?” he asks. Before I could answer him, his phone starts to ring. Toppers name is displayed on the screen. Rafe looks at his phone, then back to me, then back to his phone. 
“I am NOT here. Answer it. Put it on speaker.” I say frantically. Now he's intrigued.
“Hey Top!” Rafe answers. “Rafe! I fucked up man. I fucked up BAD! I’m coming over. I need a drink asap.” I am immediately shaking my head and mouthing ‘no’. “Top I can’t tonight man. My dad is on my ass and if Rose finds out I have someone over, I’m dead bro.” Is he seriously helping me right now? 
Topper scoffs on the other line. “Since when have you given a shit about what Rose thinks? I’m already on my way!” 
“Then turn around and go home man. I can’t tonight.”
“What is up with you dude? You never turn down a drink” its silent for a minute “Oh shit do you have a chick over right now?” Im disgusted at the change in tone in Top’s voice when he  brings up Rafe having a girl over.
“Yeah bro I do. And she’s alone right now in my bed so I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow.” Rafe responds, very quick to go along with Topper’s question.
“That’s my man!” Topper laughs “is she hot? She better be hot!”
Even Rafe rolls his eyes at Topper’s comment. “Yeah she’s hot. Okay gotta go man.” Rafe responds as he hangs up the phone. Is that true, does he think I’m hot? I don’t care. Do I?
I let out a huge sigh of relief that we dodged the bullet of Top showing up here. 
“So. Are you gonna tell me why I just had to lie to my best friend?”
I shift nervously. “Well technically you didn’t lie. There is a ‘chick’ here and she is sitting on your bed.” I try to make a joke avoiding this conversation at all costs. 
“Y/n.” He says, raising his eyebrows. He clearly wants an answer. 
“I broke up with Top and he didn’t take it well.” I say on an exhale. He doesn’t say anything because he’s not stupid. He has probably figured out that much already. I let out a heavy sigh. “He kicked me out of his car in the middle of the road three miles away from my house in the fucking rain because I accused him of cheating on me. He told me that I had no idea what I was talking about. He said I was crazy, and that I was making shit up. But I’m not. I know for a fact that I’m not. It’s not the first time either. He’s done it before, which I’m sure you already know since you’re his best friend and he probably tells you everything.” I make that realization as I’m rambling my story out to him. Rafe is probably well aware of Topper’s lack of loyalty. 
“I uh. I knew about it the first time.” He admits. His honestly with the situation makes me laugh a little as I roll my eyes.
“Of course you did. Being that it was with your sister. I’d be shocked if you didn’t know.” The look on Rafe’s face instantly changes. It’s almost like he’s holding something back. “Unless…Sarah wasn’t the first girl was she. There was someone else.” Tears that I have been pushing back for weeks start to well in my eyes. Not because I’m sad, but because I’m furious. Even Rafe doesn’t know what to say. Without thinking, I grab my wet clothes and my barely charged phone, and head towards his bedroom door. “I should go. Thanks for the shower and-” 
“Y/n don’t be ridiculous” he says quickly following me. “You can’t leave right now that storm is getting worse” He puts his hand on the door, shutting it. 
I turn and he is standing close enough to me to create an odd sort of tension. 
“Why don’t you get him back?” Rafe suggests as I roll my eyes.
“I don’t want to get back with him Rafe I’m so ov-” he cuts me off.
“That’s not what I’m saying. I mean get him back. As in revenge.” he says as he steps closer to me. Jesus Christ I’m an absolute idiot.
“Revenge…right.” I laugh awkwardly. He continues to inch closer, creating an even bigger amount of tension. Not that tension is an unfamiliar thing with Rafe and I. There has always been a weird tension between us. Ya know…the whole best friends brother thing. I’ve known Rafe for almost 10 years. Something about his cocky attitude has always been attractive to me. Call it toxic. I don’t care. It’s just the truth. Rafe and I are standing right infront of each other. He is towering over me as my back is still to the door. 
“You know…They say that one of the best ways to get over a guy is to get under another.” He almost whispers while moving my hair out of my face. I can’t help but blush. The thought of getting back at Topper crossed my mind the second he cheated on me. The thought of getting back at him by hooking up with his best friend? That’s even better. Rafe leans down and starts to kiss my neck. “Rafe we probably shouldn’t do this” I whisper clearly enjoying it.
“Of course we shouldn’t. But I do shit that I shouldn’t do all the time.” He stops kissing my neck to look me in the face.
“Me too” I nod letting out a breath as I crash my lips onto his. The kiss is instantly filled with an insane amount of intensity. Rafe backs me up against the wall as he deepens the kiss. He moves from my mouth to my neck, leaving hickeys all over. He is making sure that I can’t hide what we are doing. And I’m totally here for it. His hands move from my hair, to my hips, to underneath the hem of my shirt. Well. Technically his shirt. I’m braless since my bra got soaked in that rain earlier. He quickly realizes this as his hand grazes over my tits. He starts to grip them while kissing me, making me moan softly until he stops for a second. 
“As hot as you look in my shirt…it’s coming off” he nearly growls. I lift my arms as he lifts the shirt over my head and throws it across the room. I reach for his shirt to take it off. Once he takes it off his mouth is back on mine. Our foreheads are pressed together as our bare chests are rising and falling against each other. He hoists me up, grabbing my ass as I throw my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. We don’t last long against the wall before we move to the bed.
He lays me down on the edge of the bed as he hovers over me kissing me yet again. Each kiss gets more aggressive. We bite each other's lips between kisses. He moves his mouth from my lips to my neck leaving more marks. Slowly, he makes his way to my chests. The marks he makes get darker and darker. He puts his mouth over my nipple, making me moan as he slightly bites down. He quickly moves his hand up to cover my mouth.
“Shhh. Baby we gotta stay quiet.” He says as he moves from one nipple to the other. I moan into his hand as he stifles the sound that comes out. His hand moves from my mouth to my throat as he wraps his hand around it lightly. His lips meet mine again. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” holy shit. I moan into our kiss as his hand is on my throat. His hand travels down my body until its hovering over my shorts. He’s moving his hand from one thigh to the other. Barely grazing the spot where I need him the most. I breathe into our kiss as his hand stops at the waistband of my shorts. He’s such a fucking tease. He hovers his hand there for a minute sensing that I want more. 
“Oh my God Rafe” I moan out of anticipation.
“You want more baby?” he smirks against my lips.
“You know I do” Smartass.
“Say less” he moves from his position above me, to kneeling on the floor at the edge of the bed. He hooks his fingers around the waistband of my shorts, pulling them down, revealing my bare pussy. He pulls me closer to the edge of the bed and spreads my legs in one swift motion, causing my breath to hitch. He leans down and attaches his mouth to my clit. This of course causes another accidental moan to slip from my mouth. I immediately throw my own hands over my mouth to quiet the noise. His tongue is swirling circles over my clit as he inserts two fingers without warning. As hard as I am trying to stifle my sounds, nothing could stop the groan that I let out at this moment. He moves his fingers at a faster pace that matches what his tongue is doing. 
“Holy Shit Rafe.” I whine.
“You like that?” he smirks up at me. I nod and roll my eyes to the back of my head before shutting them tightly. But suddenly Rafe stops. “Open your eyes y/n. I want you to look at me when you cum. I want you to see who is making you feel this good.” I do as he says and open my eyes as I prop myself up on my elbows to get a better view. “Atta girl” He smirks before burying his face into me yet again. He adds a third finger as I throw my head back while remaining eye contact. He curls his fingers as he eats me out and I want to scream at the pressure building up inside of me. I reach forward and tangle my fingers through his hair as he grins up towards me. 
“Rafe! Oh my God” I let out a string of other soft noises and words.
“Go ahead baby. Cum for me,” I look Rafe in the eyes as I jerk my hips and arch my back, completely unraveling in front of him. As he removes his fingers from inside of me, he brings them up to my mouth. “I want you to see how good you taste.” he says as I take his fingers into my mouth until they are clean. He removes his fingers from my mouth and laces his hands through my hair as he devours me with a kiss. 
“That was incredible.” I breathe heavily.
“Oh we aren’t done yet princess.” the sound of him calling me princess was enough to nearly send me over the edge again. 
“I’d hope not” I tangle my tongue with his as he deepens the kiss by pulling my hair back. I reach for his pants and I undo his belt. 
“Eager are we?” he scoffs, pulling away for a moment. He removes his belt and  his pants. Leaving his boxers for me to remove. I gesture for him to sit on the edge of the bed where I just was. When he sits, I climb onto his lap, straddling him over his boxers. I can tease too. I lean in kissing him as I slowly start to rock back and forth on his lap. I can feel him getting harder by the second. To be honest this is doing just as much for me as it is for him. I start to kiss his neck, leaving marks similar to the ones he left on me. I start to rock faster back and forth until he is letting out moans the way I was. I cover his mouth.
“I thought we had to stay quiet.” I give him a sly smile before kneeling on the floor and removing his boxers. I come face to face with his cock as I run my tongue up the side, looking up at him while I do it. I move my tongue to the other side slowly, taking my sweet time. 
“Fuck y/n” Rafe groans as he places his hand in my hair. 
I wrap my mouth around the head of his cock and start to suck slowly, using my hands to work the rest that I can’t fit in my mouth. I bob my head up and down while I look up at him, my eyes are starting to water. He grabs my head and slightly pushes me down further, and I can feel his tip hit my throat. When it does Rafe lets out a deep moan with a mumbled string of “oh fucks”. After a few minutes, I can sense that he is going to cum. I don’t bother asking where he wants to finish before he finishes in my mouth. I swallow and look up at him with a smile.
“Holy shit. You really know what you’re doing.” He lets out a heavy content sigh. “We still aren't done yet. I need to be inside you.” He says laying me back down on the bed. I still cannot believe that this is happening. 
Rafe wastes no time climbing on top of me leaving sloppy kisses up my chest and meeting my mouth with his. “You sure about this?” He looks down at me.
“Never been more sure about anything.” I nod. 
“Good” He says as he grabs a condom from his nightstand and puts it on. Seconds later, he is lining himself up at my entrance. His tongue plunges into my mouth as he enters inside of me. His cock stretched my pussy perfectly. He moves with smooth motions leaving us both moaning into each other's mouths as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He brings his hand to my throat once again,barely applying pressure, making me let out a moan that was too loud to be stifled. He doesn’t seem to care. 
“You like when my hands are around your neck?” He whispers in my ear.
“Yes! Oh my god yes” I am starting to get louder. He moves his hand from my throat to my mouth to keep me quiet again. I moan into his hand as his thrusts hit the perfect spot inside of me. He can tell that he has hit the spot when my hips start to buck in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. I am almost screaming into his hand. As he leans down to kiss me again. 
“You gonna cum with me?” he asks, pressing his forehead against mine. I nod unable to speak, to stop myself from screaming. “Words y/n. Use your words” 
“Fuck yes. I’m gonna cum!” I whine out. He thrusts in and out a few more times, hitting the spot perfectly making me squirm underneath him. With one final thrust, I arch my back as I scratch my nails down his, definitely leaving scratch marks. We cum simultaneously as we let out deep and hungry moans into each other's mouths. He just gave me the best orgasm I have ever had. He pulled out and laid next to me.
“Holy shit. I’ve waited so long to do that.” he says looking at me out of breath.
“Me too. I always had a crush on you ya know.” I say looking at him equally as out of breath.
“Yeah I know.” He smiles and lets out a soft chuckle.
“Took you long enough to do something about it.” I laugh back.
“Thank God I did. And I plan on doing it again. Just so you know.” I winked at me 
“I’d hope so.” I smile, laying there next to him. He was right. That was the best way to get over someone. 
** hi! I really hope you liked this. If you did and want to see more let me know what you want to see! I had fun writing this and in my many many years of writing fanfics this is somehow my first time writing smut so I hope it was okay lol ❤️
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weebsinstash · 8 days
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Now don't get me wrong, I like how... calm and unbothered Alastor is, or at least tries to pass himself off as being
but like.... we know he's a drinker.... and we know certain details about him having an alcoholic abusive father who was cruel to his mother which heavily influenced his whole Dexter serial killer morality bs... and I can't help but think of a fic idea where Reader and Alastor are together and, suddenly without warning you break up with him BECAUSE YOU CHEATED ON HIM. you're like, legitimately heartbroken and missing him but you broke up for a good reason and, time passes and you dont see or hear from him, you're basically just going on with your life, and, MEANWHILE HE'S JUST SLOWLY DEVOLVING IN A PATHETIC LITTLE MEOW MEOW
His radio show comes on and he's SLURRING and people are aghast. Alastor is usually such a classy gentleman, so careful with his image??? Meanwhile he's in his radio station with several glasses of whiskey and staring at a wall lined with your photos while he's broadcasting, "ohhhh hEeeEy LiSteNers!! How-how are you all doing this.... 😡LOVELY😤 evening. Isnt..... isn't it... so nice to... spend time with loved ones when you need them? 🥴 WELL I WOULDNT KNOW HA HAH HA" *cue 30 straight uninterrupted seconds of unhinged laughing from a man clearly having an emotional crisis* "so on tonightsssshow I was-i wasszzz hoping to-to discussss-"
Like imagine tuning into his show after avoiding it because it broke your heart and it turns from him like, having an actual topic and planned structure of his show, to then, one day you overhear a broadcast and he's just occasionally slurring, saying really really vague shit about how "real men are supposed to be strong enough to protect and hold onto those they hold dear" and you can occasionally hear the THUNK of his whiskey glass hitting the table meaning he's already drunk but still drinking WHILE broadcasting and, oh honey you already sound so wasted you don't need more--
You guys don't understand. I want this man having a very PUBLIC very MESSY mental breakdown because he was CRAZY IN LOVE WITH YOU and you sat him down and told him you love him deeply but you need sex and you've cheated on him REPEATEDLY and EVEN THEN he was HARDCORE COPING, "w well as long as you promise it won't happen again-" "I cant and i won't. I love you but i cant repress this part of myself" LIKE YOU DECIMATE THIS MAN. Alastor's just beside himself because like, not without valid feelings but you're basically dumping him to fuck strangers. Like. I just. What if he literally had a ring box or was starting to realize he's demisexual on the ace spectrum and was starting to have Those Feelings for you and you're just. Breaking up with him, and all he hears is "sorry but having these disgusting men I don't even know hunch over on me grunting like disgusting animals and defiling me who is definitely way too good for them is way better than being with you my respectful funny classy charming totally-not-husband"
I want you to be walking down the streets of Hell and Vox suddenly comes on their equivalent of a jumbotron and he's visibly beside himself with excitement, "BREAKING NEWS, THE RADIO DEMON IS PISS DRUNK IN THE GUTTER LIKE A FUCKING LOSER, MORE NEWS ON THE SCENE" and it just snap cuts to him facedown in the street somewhere. Have you ever seen Intervention. You can have grown ass adults with successful careers and loving communities and when they find something that breaks them you'll be seeing shit like, children finding their mothers literally passed out in the yard because they were too drunk to get into the house or even WALK properly. So. You just. See him in this legitimately pathetic absolutely humiliating state and you can't help but feel that that's YOUR fault, meanwhile Vox is living his best fucking life, GOD FORBID VOX SEES YOU STANDING THERE CRYING ON THE SIDEWALK, he's then broadcasting your crying face all over Hell, "Hey Alastor even your EX is CRYING AT HOW PATHETIC YOU ARE, GUESS THAT'S WHY THEY LEFT YOU HUH" and like. The live feed of Alastor shows him just, struggling to even lift his head to look up to, wherever, and see your image there, looking absolutely devastated, looking at him with pity and heartbreak. oh, his sweet beloved, looking so distressed because you see him so weak...
Vox is just living it up mocking both of you but he's made several enormous mistakes by putting you on the air, especially looking like THAT, especially with Alastor in this mental state, and ESPECIALLY to mock you when you're already looking so broken. The feed cuts. All the TVs read "LOST SIGNAL" and nothing comes back on the news for the rest of the night. Less than a week later, the radios are on again, and Alastor sounds... completely back to normal? Chipper, even? And at first you're happy to hear he's all good and well, but, there's something about some of the things he's saying that are making you a little.... nervous?
"You know folks, it took me an EMBARRASSINGLY long while to realize that, a true traditional man puts the needs of others above himself, and especially the needs of his special somebody! One can't truly care for one's loved one properly if you're too boggled down with, FEELING SORRY for yourself right? How else are you going to... defend what's yours if you just lie down and take it?"
"So while I was off the air, good listeners, I was doing quite a bit of, spring cleaning, let's call it! Yes, I was... unfortunately very busy, having to wrangle up quite a few.... disgusting, insignificant, dirty, thieving PERVERTS!!!! ....but now that that's all good and done with, I'd certainly like to think these streets are a little more... respectable!"
"To end the broadcast tonight, a final word to all my fellow men out there. If you happen to discover that, for whatever reason, your beloved has run off with another? It was because you deserved it for being WEAK. You allowed another man to just, COME IN and... DESECRATE what is precious to you? Disgraceful. Pathetic. Ill-mannered. You cannot call yourself a worthy partner if you simply allow your beloved to waltz themselves into the mouth of danger, can you? So, a little piece of advice from your humble host here tonight: Take back what is yours. Take them back, do not let them go, and do not let anyone EVER soil your love ever again. ........Also hey! Don't forget that the annual Cannibal District Cook-Out is this coming weekend so be sure to--"
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emeritusemeritus · 1 month
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I didn’t want to be alone [Eddie Munson X Reader]
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Title: I didn’t want to be alone.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader {Established friendship but deliberately vague, can be romantic or not}. Platonic!Wayne Munson&Reader.
Timeline: Non-specified. There’s a brief mention of ‘trauma’ that I’d originally written as events from ST 1-3 but it could be anything. Insert your troubles here.
Summary: When things in your mind get bad, you know you always have a place to go.
Warnings: Brief mentions of trauma, illusions of mental illness. Sadness/ depression. This is a comfort fic. Wayne looks after us. Wayne Munson being the father figure we all need.
Word count: 3.4k
This is a complete comfort fic that I wrote to try and make myself feel better, a concept I came up with to try and get to sleep one night. My toddler isn’t sleeping, I haven’t slept properly for days and I’m losing my mind- keep me in your thoughts as I drown in coffee.
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The last thing Wayne Munson expected to see when he pulled up to his trailer at 4am after his monthly half shift was your car; he especially didn't expect to see you sat stationary within the car, staring blankly up towards the dark trailer home. He frowns as he cuts the engine to his beat up truck, grabs his trusty brown thermos and metal lunchbox before he climbs out of the truck. When his eyes fix on you again, he sees that you haven't moved even an inch, not even acknowledging his approach. Your chin rests on your arm slung over the wheel, body slumped down in your seat with a vacant expression on your face, eyes heavy and pained. He can tell immediately that something isn't right with you, your body language completely thrown off as you stare into the void, unaware of everything around you.
He'd seen you look like this only once before, but Eddie had mentioned in passing that you'd had 'episodes' one or two times before, something about trauma, something that had haunted you from a few years back. Wayne was a simple man and didn't pretend to know what any of that meant, nor would he intrude and ask you about it when you so clearly didn't want to open up about what was plaguing you. He figured better people with bigger brains than he would be the only people that could understand what you were going through, but he'd try his best to help you where he could.
Wayne knows better than to make you jump in your impaired state and so he tried to delicately walk over to your car, putting himself directly in your eye line so that you wouldn't be alarmed once you realised he was there. It takes a minute or so for your eyes to focus on him, flicking over at the slow movement in your peripheral vision. Your shock at seeing him makes his eyes pull tight together in a squint, fighting the urge to frown at your unusual behaviour. 
He walks over to your car door and finally takes in your appearance, the crease lines in his face getting deeper as he frowns once again, seeing that you are in no way dressed appropriately for the bitter cold, wearing only a pair of lounge shorts and an oversized band shirt that he instantly recognises as his nephew's.
You wind the window down as Wayne leans in, careful to be gentle with you as he sees the glassy, pained look still overwhelming your face, even after you'd broken out of your trance.
"What're you doing here girl? Got your key don't ya?" He says, trying his hardest to keep his tone balanced and his voice gentle; not an easy feat for a self proclaimed gruff, southern born hick like Wayne.
Wayne cringes as he feels the low temperature inside your car, the cold drifting out from your rolled down window. Somehow the inside of your car was even colder than the crisp, early morning air outside. Only then did Wayne remember you complaining that the heat and the ac in your car had busted a couple of weeks ago, but you couldn't afford to get it fixed right away on account of your 'full time student and part time waitress' salary.
You stare at him for a lingering moment, not even making a single attempt to reply as you usually would, the only sign that you had heard him at all was a subtle twitch of your eye. You eventually turn to look away, averting your gaze from his concerned eyes to stare back towards the trailer which was pitch black inside with no sign of life.
"I didn't know what to do," you said quietly, your voice timid and weak as you fought to push out your thoughts. "I remembered what you said about coming over anytime I needed to not be alone, but then I remembered the date and that Eddie was away at his gig. Then I remembered you said that Eddie didn't even have to be here, when you gave me the spare key. I got in my car and drove here but then I got stuck, not able to go inside because I'd be a burden but I couldn't leave either."
Wayne was quiet at he listened intently to you, giving you the time you needed to explain, knowing how hard it must be for you to speak your thoughts out loud. He silently nods gently, knowing at least partially what you were feeling as he acknowledges your troubles. He thinks it strange how often you said 'remembered' in the sentence, knowing that your words sounded uncharacteristic but he assumes that it is just you voicing your thoughts as they appeared in your head.  His heart breaks a little at hearing your sad words, knowing that you must have felt real bad to have jumped in your car and drove all the way out here without thought of a jacket.
"Let's get you inside, 'fore ya catch a damn cold," he says gently, wanting to get you into the warmth as he sees goose flesh spreading across your skin and the unmistakable bounce of your leg from your body fighting the cold. He expects to be met with more resistance than you offer as you simply nod and reach for the keys that are still in the ignition. He opens the door for you, juggling his belongings in his arms as he leads you up the concrete steps to the trailer and unlocks the door, offering a tiny smile of empathy at you as he steps aside, allowing you to enter first.
As you step in, you're immediately met with stagnant warm air from the trailer being shut up all day, retaining the last slithers of heat emitted by the old space heater Wayne must have had on before he went to work. The trailer smells like home to you and immediately offers a level of comfort that you could never get anywhere else. There's a lingering smell of cigarette smoke which hangs thick in the air, mixed with a hint of Eddie's cheap cologne and old spice, old coffee and the overwhelming scent of both Eddie and Wayne, their warm natural scents mixing to create the personalised blend of the Munson trailer.
You tentatively take a seat on the couch once offered by Wayne, who immediately sets to turning on a few lamps before boiling some water for a warm drink for you both, throwing down his lunchbox and thermos on the counter in the process. He grabs two mugs from the cabinet, but immediately changes his mind as he thinks of way to cheer you up. He walks past you to reach for one of his many display mugs, grabbing your favourite of the bunch and rinses it in the sink before setting the two mugs aside to make a drink. He begins to pull out the coffee but stops himself, knowing that the last thing you need is a blast of caffeine in your system and so he reached for the small box of tea that he kept in just for you, pulling out your preferred flavour as he makes the drinks.
He takes a look at you as he waits for the water to boil, finally seeing you in the light that he'd turned on as you entered. Your eyes look dark and sunken, dark purple circles formed underneath your once sparkly eyes, telling him that you hadn't slept a wink.  Your hair was haphazardly thrown up into a messy bun, faint smudges of mascara were present under your eyes and overall you looked thoroughly exhausted.
When he walks over to you, he's delicate with his approach, offering the tea out to you with a gentle smile. He notices your eyes widening slightly once you spot the special mug and a small smile tugs at your lips which he's thankful for as it means your coming out of your dark place. You mumble a thank you as you cradle the warm Star Wars mug in your hands, the heat rolling through your cold and shivering body.
"You wanna talk about it?" He says quietly, taking a seat and bringing his own mug to his lips. He sees a frown form on your eyebrows before your eyes close and you shake your head no at his suggestion. He simply nods, respecting your decision and giving you the grace of not asking any follow up questions.
"I'm sorry," your little voice says after a few silent moments.
"Don't ever be sorry, you did the right thing by coming here darlin," Wayne replies sweetly, to which you reply with a kind and grateful smile. "You're welcome here night or day."
Neither of you speaks for a moment, though it's a comfortable shared silence rather than an awkward interlude.
"So how come you ain't with Eddie at his gig?" Wayne asks a few moments later, taking another sip of his coffee. Your eyes flash with angst again and he suddenly regrets asking as your face drops slightly, not realising that his question could trigger you.
"I had an exam, couldn't get out of it," you shrugged gently, not managing to lift your eyes up from their fixed point upon your mug, watching the steam rise from the hot tea inside.
"You do okay?" Wayne asks, feeling a little awkward at asking. Eddie had always been a handful, especially when it came to doing his homework and anything academic, and Wayne's questioning of how projects went or finals or whatever else had fallen on deaf ears many years ago.
You nodded gently in reply, a little apprehensive maybe, "yeah I think so, it was only after when things started to go bad."
Wayne knew immediately that you were referring to your episode earlier, and his heart ached more for the girl in front of him who seemed so broken down, the girl he had grown to care for like a daughter. You fell quiet again, staring into space looking so exhausted you could drop down where you sat.
"Tell ya what, why don't ya go lay down in Eddie's room for a while, take your tea with yer," Wayne suggests, leaning forward slightly as he talked, not quiet reaching out to you but feeling a little closer to do so. "I'll make us some grub once you wake up."
You immediately begin to weakly protest, already feeling like a burden but Wayne shuts it down quickly. "Ain't no different then having Eddie here, 'cept you got a better sense of hygiene and noise control," he joked, earning a chuckle from you. "I'll be right through here if you need anything, ain't sleeping yet and I ain't going anywhere." His voice was still gentle but his words held a level of insistence which meant you couldn't question him, knowing he was being entirely honest.
"Uncle Wayne, thank you," you smiled gently, standing up off the couch and making your way through to the familiar back room, carrying your mug, before closing the door.
Stepping into Eddie's room without him here felt a little odd, but the sight of the room alone was enough to comfort you even more. Cigarette smell lingered here too, mixed with the faint whiff of marijuana, Eddie's cheap cologne and a general boy smell which wasn't entirely unpleasant. His guitar, sweetheart, was missing off the wall, along with two of the three amps that were usually littered around on the limited floor space.
You placed your mug on the nightstand, beside the ashtray, and didn't hesitate to throw yourself down onto the bed, pulling the sheets up high so that you were essentially cocooned in them. The sheets smelt perfectly like Eddie. Bringing them up to your nose to scent him, you felt instantly calmer by the second.
You could hear the faint murmur of the tv in the lounge, knowing that Wayne would probably be watching the 5am news or a repeat of his favourite western, the Comancheros. The knowledge of him being right outside was enough to comfort you even more, knowing that you weren't alone anymore.
For the first time since your episode began, you felt like you could actually finally fall asleep; the comfy bed, the lingering scent of Eddie all around you and the soft comforter all equated to your relaxed, happy state. Your tired eyes closed on their own accord, suddenly overwhelmed by the heaviness that pulled at them and without any hesitation or conscious effort, you slipped into a deep sleep, putting the bad day behind you.
Only a few hours later, early in the morning when Eddie's van roared up the dirt road towards the trailer, music turned down only slightly from its usual blaring volume, until it came to a sharp stop right outside his trailer. He frowned when he saw not only your car but his uncles truck parked outside, not expecting either of you to be there when he got back.
He stepped into the trailer and immediately spotted his uncle lounging in his armchair, a western playing on the old tv, without any sign of you.
Eddie nods to his uncle in greeting, before opening his mouth to question your whereabouts until Wayne instantly brings his finger to his lips, attempting to silence the boy from speaking too loudly. He didn't say anything in the moment, merely pointing towards the closed door leading to Eddie's room, hoping that he'd catch what he was trying to say.
Eddie nods his head, frowning a moment later as he realised what must have happened and that he wasn't here to help.
"You're back early boy," Wayne states, reaching for the tv remote to mute it, reaching out to grab a cigarette from the pack before lighting it, watching his nephew do the same thing only moments behind him after placing down the guitar in it's carrier by the small table.
"Gig was cancelled, burst pipe, never even made it on stage," Eddie mumbled, clearly annoyed at the facts he was relaying.
"There's always next time son," Wayne replies, taking a drag of his cigarette, earning a gentle nod from his nephew. "She's asleep, told her to get down in your room."
At the mention of you, Eddie's eyes flicker to the closed door of his bedroom, a warmth filling his gut at the thought of you sleeping in his room, especially without him there. Though he hated the thought of you suffering alone, disliking the thought of it happening when he wasn't here to help a little too much, the fact that you sought out him and his home gave him a little possessive buzz.
"Thanks Wayne, for, yanno," he couldn't quite get the words out that he wanted to say, feeling a little uncomfortable at the emotional weight in the conversation. Wayne understands, he always does and gives Eddie a nod that tells him everything, the look in his eyes conveying his affection for you, especially the way that it silently says 'I'd do it for you too'.
Eddie puts out his cigarette and with one last thankful look towards his uncle, creeps down the hall to his bedroom and slides open the door, trying desperately not to spook you.
It's dark in the room, the only light peeking through the window is from the street light a few meters away that shines rays of light over you thanks to his broken blinds.
He feels a little creepy watching you sleep but he can't resist, seeing you cocooned in his own sheets looking blissfully peaceful, the demons you carried not haunting your dreams. Your hair is spread across the pillow and there's a brief moment where he is genuinely excited that his sheets will smell like you the next night.
He doesn't fully undress, only throws off his shoes and the jeans that were still heavy and filled with ticket stubs and random change that he'd accumulated on the journey to the venue and then straight back. He's delicate as he climbs into bed beside you, praying he doesn't disturb you or worse, frighten you.
He sucks in a breath when he feels you move, no doubt sensing the presence behind you and for a moment he holds his breath, trying to stay completely still.
"Eddie?" You murmur sleepily, the hopefulness in your voice making his heart beat just a little harder at the sound.
"M'here princess," he says gently, pressing his hand delicately to your shoulder. He lets out a little noise of content when you turn over in bed and snuggle down into his chest, bringing your warmth with you. The pair of you cuddling wasn't entirely unheard of, but Eddie was certain it had never been this intimate before, not that he was complaining.
"Wanna talk?" He offers after a few moments of silence, sensing that your breathing hadn't returned to your peaceful sleep pattern. You shake your head on his chest and try to snuggle further down, secretly inhaling more of his scent as you sought comfort that only he could provide.
"How was your gig?" You mumbled, sleepiness still making you slur your words just a little, feeling as if speaking in full was too much effort.
"Got cancelled princess, s'why I'm back," he explains gently. His ringed hand has started to absently rub back and forth across your back and you wish he'd never stop doing it.
"What time is it?" You ask, sitting up just enough to look at him, though you could only really make out his outline in the darkness. You frown, suddenly realising that Eddie was back much, much earlier than you'd anticipated and his words of explanation slowly sunk in. "It got cancelled, why?"
Once again, Eddie feels like the grinch with his heart expanding in significant increments, feeling it grow and swell at your distraught tone. You actually cared that the gig was cancelled.
"Pipe burst," he says with a shrug, a much calmer reaction to the news than he'd had only a few hours ago when he'd gone ballistic and kicked the tyres of his van.
"I'm sorry Eddie, you were really excited." He smiles down at you, even if you can't see it. Suddenly feeling overwhelming affection for you. He shrugs again and pulls you closer, holding on to you just a little tighter.
"So, do you come here often without me? Think I might be developing a complex here princess." Even in the dark you can hear the smirk in his voice and you use your head to jab him just a little in the ribs at his insinuation.
"Better when you're here," you mumble, resting your head again against his soft body. "Just needed you."
Eddie bites back a smile, knowing that you would never dare say that in the light of day but somehow between the darkness and the late, or early, hour, everything said between you both seems like a secret, your own little world created where nothing is out of bounds.
"How did your exam go?" He asks, still slowly running his ringer fingers across your back.
"Sssh, too much talking," you say with a smile, not wanting to think about the day before. He understands, it was a Munson's best quality after all to know when talking wasn't beneficial; when being arrested, in an argument with your woman and just occasionally when the moment was so perfect no words would be good enough.
"Coffees on me in the morning," he says, his eyes closing as he feels your breathing even out again, your body sinking further into him as sleep begins to take over.
"Mmmm, sounds nice," you say lightly, the tiredness and proximity to sleep so clear in your voice that it makes Eddie smile out into the dark room.
"Donuts too," he adds, kissing the top of your head as it rests on his chest, feeling prouder than he'd ever felt before. You'd found comfort in him and in turn he'd found comfort in you too, both of you slowly sailing off to sleep surrounded by each other, the pains of the day before disappearing entirely.
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rxmqnova · 5 months
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Hi, I have a request, can you write some funny drunk Nat/Wanda? You know, when Yn went to her and she said like she has a girlfriend or saying a few funny things.
I always craved these kind of fics hahaha
Drunk
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Y/N: 25 years old ——————————————————
Y/N'S POV I sigh after dialing my girlfriend's number for what feels like the millionth time. Tony threw another party in the Stark tower and my girlfriend went there. I couldn't go with her as I only just returned home an hour ago from a mission.
She agreed to be home by 10 though, so we could make a cozy movie night, but it's nearly half past 10 and I'm getting worried.
"Alright" I breath out, taking a hoodie. I hope she's okay and just forgot about time.
Even though I'm completely exhausted, I drive as fast as I can and as I expected the tower is still full of random people dressed in fancy suits and dresses. I guess my sweatpants and hoodie don't really fit the dress code, but I couldn't care less right now.
"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Natasha asks me as soon as I reach the bar behind which she's standing. I'm not sure how and why, but she somehow always ends up behind the bar and makes some drinks. "You want a drink?"
"Oh. No. I just came to pick up Wanda. Have you seen her?" I ask, nervously tapping the bar with my fingers and looking around.
"I think she's with the boys there, Pietro made her try some of that Thor's asgardian alcohol" Natasha says, pointing at a small group of people in the far.
"Oh god" I sigh, mentally preparing myself for an encounter with my drunk girlfriend. "Thanks, Nat. I'll see you tomorrow. Have a great night" I shoot her a quick smile and take a deep breath to calm myself down as I'm really mad at Pietro right now.
I asked him to look after her here when I couldn't and not to get her drunk. Also I'm really tired and this will make things a lot harder. I'm so gonna kill him when I see him…
I walk over to the small group of people, greeting the boys with a quick 'hi' before spotting Wanda sitting on the couch, looking completely wasted.
Pietro's so lucky that he's not here right now. But he won't get away like that, I'll just yell at him tomorrow.
"Hi there" I kneel in front of my girlfriend, giving her a warm smile.
"I'm taken" She says without hesitation which honestly makes me chuckle. I'm glad she knows we're dating even in this state, but the way she didn't hesitate for a second made me actually chuckle.
"I know you are. Your girlfriend asked me to bring you home to her. Come on, Wands" I tell her, taking her hand and trying to lift her.
"Don't touch me. I'm gonna tell my girlfriend and she's gonna kick your ass. She can fight, you know" Wanda says, giving me a glare.
"This will be hard" I sigh. "Wanda, honey, it's me… Y/N. I came for you. Let's go home, okay?" I smile at her, but she's clearly not listening as she's just staring at my hoodie which is actually hers.
"Did you steal my hoodie? Are you a stalker? Y/N is gonna kill you" Wanda says, giving me another glare.
I sigh and walk over to Clint as he's closest to me.
"Do you know where Pietro is? I need to kill him" I tell him, anger building up inside of me. I just want to lay down to bed and sleep.
"I think he left with some girl. What did he do?" Clint asks me, clearly amused.
"I asked him to look after Wanda here and what does he do? He makes her drink that Thor's asgardian beer or whatever that is and now Wanda's drunk and thinks I'm some stalker who's hitting on her" I sigh, pressing a palm to my forehead and trying hard not to cry in front of everyone.
"Okay, come on. I'll help you get her to the car" He smiles at me.
"Thank you" I give him a smile back and walk back to my drunk girlfriend. "Wanda, sweetheart, it's time to go home" I tell her softly, kneeling in front of her again.
"Y/N/N, is that you? Thank god, there was some really annoying stalker lady" Wanda sighs. "I missed you so much" She says, tears filling her eyes.
"I missed you too, baby. Let's go home now, hm?" I smile, happy that she recognized me.
Clint helps me to lift her up, he puts one of Wanda's arm around his shoulder's while I put the other around mine's.
"Wait!… Y/N, you need to find that bitch and kick her ass" Wanda states, stopping to walk completely.
"I promise I'll find her tomorrow, let's get you to bed now, okay?" I tell her, trying to be as nice as possible.
"But she had my favorite hoodie on. The one you always steal. I want it back" Wanda sobs, wrapping both of her arms around me and crying into my neck.
"Wanda, I promise you'll have your hoodie back tomorrow, just please come home with me" I sigh, rubbing her back. Clint just gives me a look full of sympathy which is not helping it at all, but nice of him for trying to make me feel better.
"Promise?" She asks, wiping her tears away.
"I promise, my love" I give her a smile and press a kiss to her forehead. "Let's go, you must be so tired"
Clint and I finally get Wanda to my car, so I thank him for help and buckle my girlfriend in.
"You got it back?" She gasps. "You're the best girlfriend!… I hope you kicked that bitch's ass" Wanda mumbles the last part, making me chuckle.
"You bet I did. No one will stalk and flirt with my girlfriend" I tell her which seems to satisfy her, so I sit behind the wheel and start driving us home… finally.
I pull over in the garage and open the door for my half-sleeping girlfriend, helping her out of the car.
"You're so nice to me, do you have a girlfriend?" Wanda asks me on which I furrow my brows as I thought she recognized me.
"I do" I answer, cusious where this will bring us.
"I have a girlfriend too! Y/N is on a mission now though. But maybe we could go on a double date someday!" Wanda says happily.
"That's a great idea" I tell her with a chuckle.
"Awesome! I'll ask Y/N when she comes back… you kinda look like her! That's scary!" Wanda gasps, studying my face while I'm trying to get her to our room.
"We're here" I announce, a sigh of relief leaving my lips as I sit my girlfriend on our bed.
"Thank you!" Wanda smiles, attempting to take off her shoes. "You can go home now. I don't think Y/N would appreciate if you watched me change, even though you look like her. And she should be home soon, because we're having a movie night" She looks at me seriously.
"Okay, I'll go home. Goodnight" I give her a smile and walk out of the room.
I wait about 2 minutes outside before walking back in. Hopefully she'll know it's me otherwise I might as well end up sleeping on the couch.
"Wanda, baby, I'm home" I announce, finding my girlfriend in the same position as I left her 2 minutes ago, her shoes still on and her cheeks wet. "Oh no, why those tears, baby?" I ask her softly, kneeling in front of her.
"Y/N/N, I can't take off my shoes" She sobs.
"Luckily for you, I'm here to help" I smile and wipe her tears away before taking off her shoes. "Let's get you ready for bed now, hm? Would you like one of my hoodies?" I ask softly, getting a nod in response.
Wanda loves sleeping in my hoodies just like I love sleeping in hers. We steal each others clothes on daily basis which I absolutely love, cause nothing is more comfortable than Wanda's hoodies.
I help her to change into some sweatpants and my hoodie which is not easy at all as she's already half asleep and isn't really helping me.
"Okay, you can sleep now, baby" I smile, helping her to properly lay down on the bed. I sigh in relief and lay down next to her, immediately having her cuddled up to me.
"I love you" She mumbles before drifting off to sleep, making me smile and kiss her forehead.
"I love you too" I whisper back. "But I'm not letting Pietro to look after you ever again"
After this I know a few things for sure… Wanda is the most loyal girlfriend ever and I'm really glad for that.
Another thing is that I will never ever let Pietro to look after his sister when I'm not here. We'll sure talk about it tomorrow and it won't really be a nice talk for him
----------------------
Chose Wanda, cause I felt like she is more likely to get drunk than Nat
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!! <;33
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wonderlandwalker · 2 months
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Desperate Measures | Remus Lupin x Reader
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Marauders Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox
Summary: (Part 1: Desperate Times) After your break-up Remus doesn't know what to do with himself, but when he finally gets to see you again he promises himself to make it up to you by any means he can
Content Warnings/Tags: fluff, small amount of angst, big amount of smut, minord dni, 18+, unedited writing, still not sure if smut is my strong suit but won't stop me from trying
Word Count: 3.4k
A/N: A lot has happened while I took a break from writing for a little while but it basically comes down to the fact that I still struggle with my mental health on a daily basis and writing isn't always my priority. While I do not plan to stop writing any time soon, the intervals of them will probably continue to stay longer. So thank you to everyone who has the patience to wait. Anyway, today is my birthday, so this is my small gift to all of you for the occasion xx
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His friends didn't dare say anything, no, they could see how he was doing, they didn't need to ask. So they let him sulk, and it's not like they hadn't tried to cheer him up, but there was nothing that seemed to work. Not the speech from James, not the distractions Sirius tried, and not even the chocolate muffins Peter swiped from the kitchen could get a smile on his face. Just letting him wait it out seemed like the best option. But as time continued to pass and Remus continued to sulk, they realised a more hands-on approach was needed.
They weren't sure if talking to you would go over well, so they decided to test the waters by talking to your friends.
"What do you want Potter" Lily glared at James as he sat down next to her.
"Don't you think it's time she apologizes"
Now see, all of them were used to the incredulous looks Lily would give James, but this one beat the record.
"What in the seven hells are you on about"
"Remus has suffered enough, he hasn't left the dorm in nearly a week."
"So?"
"So. Whatever fight they had she clearly seems fine" he gestured over to where you were sitting a little further away, breaking your pastry up into small bits to eat as you laughed with Marlene over some joke he couldn't hear.
"Don't you think she should apologise to him by now, they always make up eventually"
Lily dropped the exasperated expression as her face turned to stone while she spoke her next words.
"Yes, James, she seems fine. I found her crying her eyes out on the bathroom floor. Just because she is coping better than Remus doesn't entitle him to anything. "
James's overconfident demeanour dropped slightly. He had been worried about his friend all this time, he hadn't stopped to look at how it affected you. But when paying closer attention he could see Lily was right, there were bags under your eyes and they were still a little red, you must have cried even more after the night Lily was talking about.
"You know I care for her as well, but Remus is being stubborn, he won't even talk to us, won't even tell us what happened, we just thought that if she saw the state he is in, she'd maybe forgive him, get through to him"
"There is nothing to get through about. He broke up with her, now he's suffering the consequences, good riddance if you ask me"
Now it was James' turn to look startled
"Hang on a second. They broke up?" Lily copied his expression
"Yes they broke up, what did you idiots think was going on"
"We figured they fought, they fight sometimes but they always make up" Lily started shaking her head as she answered him.
"Not this time, he broke her heart, James. Even if he did regret it, I'm not sure she'd forgive him, and I don't think she should either"
Taking a last look at you, James bolted from the table. All this time they had simply assumed he was irritable because of a fight, but you had broken up. Not only that, it was Remus that had broken up with you. No, this would surely not do, not if they could help it.
Over the next few days, they came up with a plan to, in the easiest of terms, get Remus to beg for forgiveness. It all started with the party
"I'm really not in the mood Sirius" Remus was stretching time the most he could, but Sirius wasn't letting up.
"You've been cooked up in that bed for nearly two weeks now, people are starting to wonder if we've killed you with one of our pranks. Besides, if nothing else there'll be liquor, liquor solves everything"
Normally Remus would have argued, but strangely enough, this time Sirius had a point. But Sirius had a mission too. Yes, he was following the plan step by step. He had talked to Marlene, who had promised to get you to the party as well, which was probably a much easier task than he had been left with, seeing how after last week you had decided it was no use sitting around moping any longer.
He dragged Remus down to the party going on in the Gryffindor common room, poured him a glass of the strongest thing he could find, and got him settled on the couch. For a moment he debated getting Remus to dance, but that might have been a bit too ambitious. Either way, Remus was here now, Sirius's part was done.
Remus saw you standing on the other side of the room, and either you hadn't noticed him yet or you were simply ignoring him, but you seemed to be in your own world. And he was fine with looking at you from where he was, after all, that's the fate he had resigned himself to. He was fine with watching you because you seemed like you were enjoying yourself.
But it didn't take long for his so-called plan to crumble down like a poorly constructed house of cards. Because he saw someone walk up to you, he saw someone get close to you, someone who wasn't supposed to.
What was Evan Rosier doing at a Gryffindor party? But he didn't have much time to think about it, because he saw Evan walk up from behind you, and at first you seemed startled, but when you turned around to face him you seemed to light up. You pushed up on your toes to hug him and Remus's stomach started to twist. Not in the way it always used to when it came to you. His insides used to do somersaults every time he got a smile out of you. No matter how sour of a mood he was in, it would light him up.
His friends used to poke fun at him for it, but they soon realized you were the only thing that would cheer him up when their usual methods had run out, and they surrendered to the spell you seemed to have him under.
But this was nothing like that. Evan secured his arms around you and you let him, why did you let him? He knew he had been avoiding you, but he couldn't have missed this much. He sat there and watched, his body seemed to have turned to stone as if you had been Medusa herself. His eyes he couldn't keep off you, it was only when Evan pulled back that he thought the nausea that had bubbled up in his stomach would disappear, but he couldn't have been more wrong. Because the moment he did, Evan took off his jacket, and put it around you. The green colour of it engulfed you and Remus was filled with it just the same.
He felt as if he wasn't in control of his own body as he stood up from the couch, walking in your direction. He wasn't even sure what he would say, what he would do, but he could no longer sit and watch idly. So when Remus reached you he did the only thing that made sense to him, he pulled you in and kissed you. He kissed you like he had thought about doing every minute for the last few weeks. He had wondered if your lips were still as soft as they used to be, what a stupid question, he thought now, of course they were.
For just a second his life is back the way it should be, you're kissing him as if it's pure muscle memory, and perhaps it is because only a moment later you seem to come to your senses and pull away. But you're still looking at him, and your eyes have him just as Enchanted as the first time he saw you. He recognizes a small sparkle in them and promises himself to make it ablaze again.
"Can we talk, please" He is ready to get down on his knees and beg you, because he doesn't know if he can stand being without you anymore. He would drop to the floor and grovel for your forgiveness if that was what it took, but of course, you don't make him. Even before he's always been ready to tear his heart from his chest and give it to you the moment you requested so. He would watch it continue to beat as he ripped it out because by now it was entirely yours anyway, it wouldn't stop as long as you were near, wouldn't dare let you down.
You nod your head to the stairs leading up to the dorms and he walks with you until you're in the dorm, the door shutting behind you. He wants to push you up against the door and trail kisses down your neck like he used to, but he can tell you have something to say, so he sits down on the foot of your bed, trying not to fidget with his hands too much.
"You really hurt me Remus" The way your eyebrows slightly pinch together and the slight pout on your face makes him once again regret every single word he uttered that night. He's trying to think of what to say, how to continue. Because he's gotten this far and he's determined not to mess up again. But what is there to say, what can he say other than the fact that he's sorry, which seems like too much of an understatement for the situation he created.
"I know" is all he can come up with, and it's true, he spent so much time thinking about what he had done and how it had hurt you.
"I don't know if I'm ready to just move on as if nothing happened"
"I know" Remus wants to smack his own head for his response. This was his one chance to make it right and he couldn't even form a coherent thought.
"I'm sorry" is all he can say next, and he wants to smack himself again for the oversimplification. But you look at him as if it's enough, as if you know the weight those words truly hold behind them. He wouldn't be surprised if you could see right into his mind, you've always been able to read him so well.
"Please let me make it up to you, I promise I will" You look at him again, and walk closer to where he is sitting.
"How exactly do you propose to do that?" Your tone has shifted, and he's still nervous, but no longer for the same reason. It's the kind of nervous jitters he still gets when he's close to you, the kind that makes him want to pin you down underneath him and spend eternity looking at you. Except this time he's not sure what to do. He usually knows exactly what you want, has got your body memorised like a map that leads to treasure. But now he needs to tread more lightly, not taking any chance of having read it wrong.
But you walk towards him until you've slotted yourself between his open legs, and he knows it is all going to be okay, because you start to softly move your hands through his hair in a way that makes his head spin, and he grounds himself by pulling you closer, hugging his face to your stomach. He lets himself enjoy it for a few seconds before he remembers the promise he just made.
He starts to leave small kisses going up your torso, and ghosts his fingers over the back of your thighs as you're still standing in front of him. He holds your body closer to his and hears a small moan leave your mouth. And it's only softly, but he hears it, and it’s his sign not to stop.
His hands move with a mind of their own, trailing further up until he reaches under your skirt, finding the soft flesh of your ass and giving it a gentle squeeze before he retracts one of his hands to slap it. And now he’s sure, because the sound that leaves you is no longer hesitant, it's pleading. He grabs onto your legs and flips you over onto the bed behind him, your head hitting the pillow as he hovers over you.
You move to kiss him, and he doesn't dare refuse. It’s different from earlier, more desperate. Not only his but your emotions showing through it, it's harsh, too much teeth, too forceful, but he can't find it in himself to mind. He kisses you back with just as much passion, and while he could spend eternity like this, he had something else in mind for now. So he moves his lips down your neck, and you arch into him immediately, giving him better access to the spot he’s looking for.
“Remus please” he doesn't need to be told twice, not today at least. His hands inch up underneath your shirt, delicately moving it up your body until it reaches your head, and you don’t hesitate to shrug it off and throw it off the bed. He’s enthralled for a moment, the sight before his eyes so familiar yet so captivating.
He makes quick work of his own shirt and moves back to leave open-mouth kisses down your chest as his hands once again travel down. But he doesn't make you wait long, because it’s followed by him moving your underwear to the side, sliding his fingers over your folds, feeling how wet you already are for him. His mouth is still busy on your chest, reacting to the sounds you make as he’s sucking bruises into your skin. With his free hand he tugs down your bra, finally giving him full access to your chest. The moment his mouth grazes over your nipple you moan out his name and he starts circling your clit before inserting two of his fingers into you. Your body immediately remembers the feeling and he can feel you already starting to clench around him, but he’s not about to question it. He’s still using his thumb to trace patterns onto your clit as he moves his fingers in and out of you, searching for the spot he knows will make you see the stars. He curls them once again and from the sounds leaving you he knows he’s found it, relentlessly hitting it as if it's his only goal in life, and right now it is.
It doesn't take much longer until you’re panting and writhing underneath him, and he has to use his free hand to pin your hips down on the mattress. As moans and whispers of his name continue to stream from you he wonders how he ever thought he could make peace with never hearing you say his name again, but he doesn't dwell on it for long as he feels you spasming around his fingers, clenching as if your body is trying to keep him there. He coaxes you through it until your breathing turns back to normal and he pulls his fingers out, hovering back over you as he cleans them off with his mouth, humming at the taste.
You’re starting to come back down from your haze and he can feel your hands travelling over his body before one of them drags over the bulge in his trousers. The friction makes him close his eyes and sighs, dropping his head in the crook of your neck. You’re trying to undo his belt when he snaps back to reality, catching your hands in his own as he stops you.
“What’s wrong?” The concern in your voice makes him want to soothe away any worries you might be carrying, and he’s quick to tell you.
“Nothing’s wrong darling, I’m just not finished apologizing yet.” It’s not that he doesn't want to feel your hands on him, pumping him as he loses his composure, but he’s already painfully hard from making you cum on his fingers, and he wasn't finished.
And so with a final kiss to your lips he shifts back down your body until he's face to face with your pussy. You’re fidgeting underneath him and he uses his hands to lock your legs in place, holding them open so he can do exactly as he wants. He starts by tickling your inner thighs with kisses, enjoying the feeling of your skin against his. Normally he would take his time, get you desperate underneath him, but he’s the desperate one now, so he doesn't waste any more time. His tongue flattens out over your entrance and a whine of his name leaves your mouth, followed by more moans that make him rut into the mattress, seeking for some friction of his own.
He distracts himself by massaging the fat of your thighs, trailing over the stretch marks he adores. You're rutting your hips into his mouth and when your hand finds purchase in his hair, tugging on it as his tongue enters your folds, he no longer tries to hold back. His attack on you is so sweetly malicious, your taste intoxicating hum further than any liquor could, he grinds down and moans into you. The vibrations make your breath hitch and he can feel you getting close again. The soft pleas and whines coming from you are a melody he will orchestrate for as long as he can, his nose bumps against your clit as his tongue is still busy lapping up your juices and it makes you twitch under him.
“That's it darling, cum all over my tongue” He's craving it just as much himself, every shaky breath from you and every time he feels you clench he gets closer to his own high. All he wants to do is get you there so he can let go himself. He doubles his efforts, remembering what you like, listening to your body react, and with his mouth still busy between your legs you suddenly go still, your body motionless except for the small flexes of the muscles in your thighs. He knows better than to stop, coaxing you further until the filthiest of moans come from your mouth, relentlessly thanking him, although he's certain he should be the one thanking you.
He's still chasing your sweet taste as he can feel his cock straining impossibly hard, the tip pulsating as he finds his own release, too caught up in you to even care that he is coming in his trousers, whines leaving his mouth as he still laps up anything you give him. He doesn't stop until you push his head away and he glances up at your face, a thin layer of sweat glistening above your eyebrows. You're radiating pure ecstasy and he can't help but smile at the sight. You silently ask him to come up by tugging the back of his neck towards you and he wouldn't even dream of doing anything other than complying.
“I've missed you Remmy” it's barely there, your voice a whisper in the now quiet room, but it's more than enough for him. He leaves featherlight kisses over your face, from your forehead to your cheekbone and finally finding his final destination on your lips. It's soft, sensual and full of pent up emotions and apologies, but the way in which you settle yourself next to him, cuddling into him with a content sigh as if he's the puzzle piece you fit next to let's him know that despite everything, you'll always find your way back to each other, even in the most desperate of times.
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Taglist: @hesperdern, @lexmoon17, @y0urm0m12, @dreamingofmarauders
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mrkis · 8 months
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⛧ this is apart of my ‘MARK BDAY REQUEST SPECIAL’ event that i will be doing for his bday (originally wednesday-sunday, but now im posting them when i can). requests are now CLOSED for this.
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REQUEST: ⇢ for the bday mark request!!! maybe reader sends mark several videos and sexts throughout the day since mark is busy with schedules on his bday, then surprises mark when he finally gets home hehe
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⛧ WARNINGS: social media format at first but then writing, 18+ content, sexting, mean!mark, bratty!reader, mentions of cum, choking, fingering
[ AUTHORS NOTE. sorry that i'm so behind, i'm still sick and not really in the mental state to do anything lmfao. but i managed to pump this one out, i hope you enjoy <3 ]
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Your body buzzes with excitement as you read Mark’s last text, a grin forming on your lips as you shut off your phone and place it on the bedside table, keeping your position on the bed as you know your front door is already unlocked—it always is for him.
During your relationship with Mark, he’s always been very caring and loving, always careful and delicate when touching your body and making you cum on his cock, fingers or tongue and kissing you so sweetly after.
He rarely ever shows his mean side, something that’s constantly locked away and something you’ve only seen once. 
You remember it well. You visited him after hours at the studio, watching him work on lyrics and testing a few beats for a song he was working on. It wasn’t your fault that he looked so attractive with a serious expression that made you desperately want to sit on his face. You had teased him, seating yourself in his lap and subtly rubbing yourself against his cock, ignoring the warnings he was giving you due to you being so clouded by lust. 
The next thing you remember was suddenly being bent over his lap, stomach against his thighs, skirt flipped up over your hips and ass raw as he spanked you, muttering the most mouth watering filth that made you cum on the spot. But after that, he returned to his normal and loving self as he wrapped you up in his arms on his lap, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and claiming how much he loves you. 
You wanted that Mark back. You love soft Mark, you love caring and gentle Mark, but there was something about a mean and dominant Mark that makes you feel crazy. You yearn for him to come back, to snap and have you any way he pleases. 
It makes your thighs clench thinking about it, a giddy smile spreading across your cheeks as you hear your front door open and slam shut, loud footsteps moving along the floorboards heading in your direction—the bedroom. 
The door to your room swings open and you almost jump Mark when you see the look on his face, eyes wild and brows furrowed, clearly angrily at your swarm of texts and videos you’ve sent him throughout the day. 
His breathing is steady despite the look on his face, hands buried deep into the pockets of his sweatpants and fail to hide the obvious hard on he’s sporting, and you bite back the urge to make a comment about how much you must’ve really affected him.
“What game are you playing right now?” He asks you, tone deep which makes your pussy ache. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing” You feign innocence, giving him a smile. “I’m just giving you your birthday presents”
“My birthday present is you?” Mark asks you again as he steps a few steps further into your room, standing at the edge of your bed. His question sparks interest in you, the way he said it has your tummy rolling and tightening in knots. 
“Yes” You confirm, spreading your legs to show him that you’re bare beneath the shirt of his you’re wearing and he exhales deeply, pressing his lips together to suppress any other sound. “I’m all yours. You can do whatever you want”
“Whatever I want?” Mark repeats as his hands reach forward, curling his fingers around your ankles which causes your brow to raise up in question. “Are you sure you want to say that to me, baby? After all the texts and the videos you sent?” Your breath hitches at the back of your throat when you feel his grip on you tighten. “Do you know that Jaemin and Haechan saw how hard I got after I saw them? How they teased me about the hold you got over me?”
“I do, don’t I?” You tease despite your voice wavering a little, biting your bottom lip nervously as your thighs press together for some friction. You decide to push the buttons, testing him to see if he snaps by using words that aren’t even true. “Every single thing I do makes your little cock hard, doesn’t it?”
He grins with a soft hum as his thumb strokes your skin, tongue prodding at his cheek and the look in his eyes darken before his tight grip returns, a yelp erupting from your throat as Mark suddenly drags you down the bed, the silk sheets sliding against your skin as he pulls you flush against him. 
One hand wraps around your throat as his mouth attacks yours while the other slips between your thighs, fingers brushing over your wet folds before he pushes two fingers in without warning, the arousal and cum from your previous orgasm making it an easy access.
You gasp against his lips as you feel him pump his fingers inside you, brushing over the spot that has your toes curling and mind whirling, unable to keep up with the kiss to which he slides his tongue into your mouth, a mixture of drool and spit seeping past your lips as his tongue glides with your own.
Mark’s putting the right amount of pressure on your neck to keep you still and the shockwaves of pleasure courses through your veins, thighs trembling around his hand that fucks your pussy into oversensitivity, your own hand flying down to grip his wrist to try and stop his fast paced movements but he grunts, biting on your lower lip in warning.
“Isn’t this what you want?” Mark speaks low as you pant into his mouth, whines and cries spilling from your lips. “For me to do whatever I want?” He then pouts at you mockingly, head turning to the side. “Aw baby… don’t tell me you regret it already?”
“I don’t” You manage to choke out, eyelids fluttering as you struggle to keep them open. “Do your worst. Show me what you got”
“Oh, my pretty girl…” He hums softly as he presses his thumb to your clit for extra stimulation, relishing in the sounds you make as he stares at you. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you”
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kingconia · 8 months
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POMEFIORE WHEN THEY NOTICE THAT THEIR S/O HAS SHITTY FRIENDS
Vil Schoenheit.
— It takes some time from him to realise it. Not because he is stupid or anything, but he is always so busy, spending time solely with you, and you always say good things about them, so;
— But as soon as he spots you with them on some school event, he starts to understand something is really wrong. Why would they say all these sarcastic remarks? Especially, if you seem to be uncomfortable? He is furious;
— At first, he will have a talk with you. He just needs to make sure that you understand how toxic they are, and that they are really-really wrong. If you don't see that, or for some reason agree with them, he is sad and disappointed in himself for not noticing it earlier;
— ”Ah, my sweet potato, how could you think so bad of yourself? Just look at yourself in the mirror for a minute! Look at how charming you are. How I love every part of you...”
— Starts praising you more often! He is quite reserved on the public, but he clearly tries to do something good for you. Might pull out a complements on your ear quietly, when you see each other in school;
— ”Oh, who is this pretty lady is?” ”Ah, I am sorry that I bumped in you, darling. I just couldn't tear my eyes from you...”
— Once again, as Vil is busy and aloof, he will not call your fake friends out personally. But he will make sure that some measures were taken. And that they know that their single word against you will cost them so much. Especially, if they are from Pomefiore;
— Live, laugh, Vil Schoenheit.
Rook Hunt.
— Oh, of course he knows that. Rook spends half of time hunting down objects of his interest, but most of the time his eyes glued to you. Even if you don't realise;
— He hears everything. And he sees everything, too. There is no way to fool this man;
— He is immediately furious. But Rook's rage is different from most of the people; his rage is quiet, cold, and slightly... Delirious. But no one can hurt you, physically or emotionally, and he makes sure that others will know that;
— Firstly, though, Rook needs to make sure that you are not affected by their attitude. Whatever they are shitty for—making toxic remarks about your appearance, leaving you out constantly, or something else—Rook will make everything better;
— This man is literally kissing the ground you are walking on. No insecurity under his roof! No-no. If you ask him, he surely can become your servant, even. But you don't, so he continues to adore you in his own ways;
— But that I mean writing poetry about you and declaring it publicly, so everyone would now how loved you are. Gifting you small—or not really—tokens every day. Writing little notes of what it reminded about you. Ah, he can even spoil you with food and sweets! Anything you want, really;
— And regarding your friends... He will take care of it personally. In his own ways. Which can be extreme, but don't worry! They are alive, just frightened! But at least they apologised, right?..
— ”Don't worry, ma belle catastrophe. I will always keep you safe!”
Epel Felmier.
— He is quite observant, and you spent a lot of time together, so, of course, he notices that something is really wrong;
— He can't believe his eyes, though, when he realises how your friends threat you. For him, you are the most supportive and kind person in the world, and perfectly charming. He can't understand how anyone could ignore you, let alone brush you off constantly;
— Epel fully concentrates on fixing your mental state. He knows how bad it feels, to be dawned by insecurities. And he is not a perfect speaker, but he tries really hard to explain you how he sees your situation, how bad are your friends are;
— He is aware that he is not that impressive and scary as others, which means he can't scare off your fake friends. But Epel is smarter and more cunning;
— He uses what he has to make your friends pay for what they had done to you, uwu!
— He either will make sure that Rook or Vil will do something about that—he might dislike his house and housewardens, but, hey, they are useful—or ask to help his other friends. I mean, just pulling in this Jack would be already enough, but if anything, he has these two idiots from Heartslabyul to do something with it. You will not even notice! He is with you all the time, after all;
— ”Please, never forget that you are not alone anymore, and never will be! I am here for you.”
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