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redr0sewrites · 2 months

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Sick!Hazbin Hotel x Reader Hcs

i love reverse comfort sm. im also currently being brutally murdered by allergies but i prefer comforting others so here we are

🥀 Cw: fluff, crack, teensy bit of angst with comfort

🥀 Pairing(s): Lucifer x reader, Alastor x reader, Vox x reader, Adam x reader

Lucifer:

sick? him? please, the king of hell doesn't get sick!

thats what he claims anyways

lucifer brushes nearly everything off as just plain allergies, he could literally have a 103 fever and be shaking on the floor and would still be pouting and saying he's fine

the thing about him tho is that he's easy to take care of- after a little coaxing lucifer just sighs and nods glumly before pretty much submitting himself to your care

once he's admitted hes sick tho, he wants you around him 24/7

lucifer wants cuddles, hugs, kisses, he just gets so clingy when he's feeling under the weather

THIS MAN LITERALLY BURNS UP WHEN HE'S SICK ITS ALWAYS THE LITTLE ONES WITH THE HIGHEST RAGING FEVERS THAT LAST FOR DAYS like he'll be sweating and shivering and crying he gets hit HARD when he's sick and it happens so suddenly too- like one day he's fine and then the next he looks like he's one small wind away from collapsing

he lowkey feels bad about asking for things when he's sick so he'll say something offhand like "yk im in the mood for soup" and hopes you get the message

ABSOLUTELY THE TYPE TO GET FEVER DREAMS AND START RAMBLING WHEN HES SICK

like he'll wake up from a nap and still be half asleep and he just starts genuinely rambling about literally the most obscure things

lucifer definitely gets nightmares even when he isn't sick, but when hes feeling like shit and is so delirious he can't tell reality from fiction? be prepared for him to wake up crying and shaking, he just gets so so scared :(

lucifer feels bad about you taking care of him and wants to help, but will lowkey end up pushing himself too hard. PLEASE reassure him and tell him it's alright he'll literally melt

once its all over, lucifer will genuinely trust you more after you saw him in such a vulnerable state and is much more likely to come to you instead of hiding how he's feeling in the future

Alastor:

alastor? weak? lmao no

he would literally rather die than admit he's sick like he would literally just keep pushing on

alastor is one of those people that has an iron immune system like he VERY rarely gets sick but when he does its like torture

to even be alastor's partner you'd have to know him for a long time and you'd probably be able to read him pretty well (at least compared to other people), yet even you sometimes miss his sickness in the earlier stages

alastors biggest tell tale sign of being sick? exhaustion. he very rarely sleeps on the regular, but when he's sick that all catches up to him

he also gets more irritable and a little less composed, he'd be more prone to getting angry and would lash out if anyone asked if he was ok

alastors ears would also be turned back slightly, like most animals do when they're being aggressive, but its pretty much only obvious to people who know him closely

alastor never wants to be vulnerable or weak but you notice that his eyelids keep drifting of their own accord, and how irritable he's been, and it clicks to you that he's obviously not feeling well

approach him about it in private, while alastor does trust you he still doesn't want others to knowm

no matter how much you try he will not lay down, take medicine, or do anything (at least at first)

alastor genuinely thinks that he can just push through on his own and lowkey thinks you're worrying too much

however after two weeks of pure suffering and exhaustion, combined with no sleep and your irritation at his lack of will to take care of himself, alastor finally breaks

he'd prob come to your room at like 4 in the morning and just curl up on the edge of the bed, shivering a little but staying quiet

you wake up to him fast asleep, his ears twitching every once and a while as he rests peacefully near you

get a cool towel and lay it on his forehead to break the fever, and he'll just keep sleeping

he probably wouldn't wake up for at least a few hours, months of lost sleep are catching up to him at this point, giving you the opportunity to make him some soup and medicine

alastor will stir a little when you get out of bed but wont wake up, but once he does wake up he wants you to come back

when he's sick he wants you to be nearby, alastor isn't the touchiest person and being sick makes him feel gross, so he wouldn't want to be touched but would want you arround just to know you're there

this is probably the first step in him being more open to vulnerability around you, and while it may have been a bit of an irritating process to get him back to his usual healthy status, it's definitely worth it as he begins to trust you more

Vox:

lowkey a man child (affectionate)

vox is one of those guys who will take care of himself when he's sick, but he'll complain about it every step of the way

i think he's pretty responsible when he's sick, he'll take the day off and relax but won't do much other than that

he likes when you pamper him though, and a part of him lowkey enjoys being sick because he just gets to have your full attention all of the time (as if he doesn't already💀)

vox would be irritated about showing weakness and not being in control, but he wouldn't be irritated at you

if an employee was being too nosy about his wellbeing? yea he's pissed but if you're the one taking care of him, he'll just sigh and let you do what you want

VOX IS ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHOS LITERALLY ALWAYS COLD AND ITS AMPLIFIED WHEN HES SICK

he becomes like a literal ice cube he's SHIVERING and everything

vox has the cutest sneezes too, he glitches out and denies how cute his sneezes are but they really are adorable

vox takes like 2 baths per day when he's sick he hates feeling unclean, and def wants you to join him in the bath (just to relax, get your mind out of the gutter)

vox would be a little pissed about missing work, i think he's a bit of a workaholic and might try to work in bed or sneak some paperwork behind your back

it doesn't work though because he just ends up passing out anyway

vox is big on sleeping when he's sick he's definitely the type to just sleep it off and thats that

like he CRASHES in bed and just does not get up for hours

he sleeps like the dead too, his screen is blank and he barely moves in his sleep

like lucifer, he has fever dreams but they lean more on the weird side rather than the sad side

its funny but instead of talking more when sick, vox actually talks much less. he starts getting super quiet and a lot more needy for your attention

vox is more than happy to return to work and be back on his feet, but will send you a little thank you gift and pamper you in return for taking care of him

Adam:

manchild x2 (also affectionate)

adam DREADS getting sick like he genuinely hates it so much, he sees it as one of his own flaws and it makes him lowkey disgusted at himself

he whines like a baby over a common cold, its almost sad how the slightest sickness will make him act like he's on his death bed

adam whines and complains whenever you aren't around him, he wants cuddles and kisses and is 10x more clingy when he's sick

he has little to no appetite when he's actually sick but gets a huge appetite right after

like you'll have to force him to eat at least a piece of toast per day while he's actually feverish but once he's in recovery he's literally FAMISHED and will ask for so much food

he barely eats or drinks while hes sick it just feels icky to him

i also think he's the type to not want to move like he just collapses on his bed and barely moves an inch (unless you force him)

adam exaggerates when he's barely sick and then underplays it when he's genuinely really sick its lowkey so confusing

like he could have pneuomonia and be half dead and say he's fine but he could have the most common cold and complain foreverrr

he doesn't think you're genuine when you say you want to help him and take care of him, he thinks its just a joke since nobody has ever really taken care of him before

like sure he's been told what to do and bossed around and treated him like a foolish child, but no one has ever sat with him while he's sick and held his hand yk?

while he can be irritable and annoying while he's sick, he apologizes afterwards

its one of the few times he ever apologizes but he genuinely feels bad about lashing out

adam isn't used to being below someone when it comes to status or health and relaxing and letting someone else take care of him is kind of foreign for him, but you both work it out over time

while he isn't the easiest to take care of, he genuinely appreciates that you want to help him and wants to return the favor someday

I WILL MAKE A PT 2 OF THIS WITH MORE FEM CHARACTERS OR WITH HELLUVA BOSS CHARACTERS BUT I DIDNT WANT TO CROWD UP THIS POST TOO MUCH!!!!! ALSO SORRY FOR ANY SPELLING MISTAKES I WROTE THIS WHILE HALF ASLEEP ♥️ HOPE YALL ENJOYED THIS TEEHEE

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cherubfae · 2 months

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carrying you to bed || hazbin/helluva x reader

With Alastor, Lucifer, Charlie, Angel Dust, Husk, Loona, & Blitzø

tags: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff

Alastor

He lets out a deep sigh, staring down at you with slow blinks. "My love, surely that can't be comfortable for you" He has warned you time and time again not to spread yourself too thin with your tasks. Alastor appreciates how much of a good work ethic you have, but what is it worth if you don't have the strength to walk to your room? He picks you up as gently as he can, melding into shadow as he pops into your room. Carefully laying you down, Alastor will cover you up and with a gentle pat on your head before he takes his leave. Perhaps, next time he'll be tempted to rest beside you.

Lucifer

No wonder you hadn't answered him when he called your name. Here you were, fast asleep on his deep red chaise lounge using your folded arms as pillows. Lucifer picks you up bridal-style half-wishing you were awake so that you could see how strong he is! Another time, he thinks. Your rest is much more important than his ego (for now). "Sleep well, honey." He grins, wiggling beneath the sheets like an inch warm, his eyes sparkling with admiration. Placing a kiss to your head, Lucifer is quick to fall asleep.

Charlie

Honestly, she really does try her best not to squeal at the sight of you. You've been working insanely hard for the hotel-- it's no wonder you're so pooped out! She's careful with wiggling one arm beneath your back and hooking the other beneath your knees. She'll carry you to whichever room is closest: yours or hers. Maybe she'll be able to convince you to move into her suite soon. "Oh my gosh, aren't you just the cutest, honey?? I love you so much!"

Angel Dust

"Awww, sweets! Lookit ya! All tuckered out." He cooed in a hushed whisper, lightly booping your nose. His grin widens when it crinkles upwards. His middle set of arms pick you up, preferring to use his gloved ones to stroke back your hair softly. Leaning his cheek against your forehead, Angel carries you off to his room where an excited Fat Nuggets happily circles the bed in preparation for a lovely nap with his two favorite people.

Husk

Putting away the final glass beneath the bar's counter, his yellow eyes drift to your sleeping form at the end of the bar. You'd insisted on waiting for him to finish but all that work promoting the hotel on foot, searching for any sinners ready to be redeemed was a hard task. Husk fought back a smile. "You really do care about this stuff, dont'cha?" He asks despite knowing you won't answer. "Let's get ya to bed." Husk stretches his wings with a sigh before they fall slack. He lifts you into his arms and makes the trek up the stairs.

Blitzø

He'll bitch and groan about it, but he also won't let anyone else touch you when you're sleeping. Blitz will make some claims about how the person trying to touch you probably has cooties or a viral infection or something. Not happening. He's quick to scoop you up into his arms, eyes narrowed slightly, before scampering off to his room with you. "No, you don't get to fuckin' touch them with your gross unwashed hands, Moxxie-- yeah, that's right I saw you! We are living in post-Covid times, mister! Ack, no, leave 'em! I'll carry them just fine thank you!"

Loona

|| please don't repost, reuse, or edit my works in any way! I do not give permission. Tumblr is the only site where I post. All characters belong to their rightful owner and the story belongs to me © CHERUBFAE 2024 ||

She smirks when she sees you. You look so sweet and cute, curled up into a ball. But that position can't be good on your spine, nor sleeping on Blitz's sad depression sofa. Loona bends down to lift you into her arms, pushing open her bedroom with her elbow and closing it shut with her foot. A nap with you sounded perfect. "You sure do look cute when you're tired, babe." She nuzzles your cheek with her nose.

#hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #angel dust x reader #husk x reader #blitz x reader #loona x reader #cherubfae 2024

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amaranthineghost · 5 months

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hello!!!

can you do a one shot/ fanfic that Lando has been dating Y/N since they were 15/16, so for a long time, and she just found out she’s pregnant. you can come up with how they would react and how lando would react but i’d love if they were unsure of it in the beginning, but it grew on them as time went by.

thanks!!!!

| OUR WORLD IN YOUR HANDS ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando x reader

ꕥ summary: they hadn't planned for pregnancy, but it changed their life.

ꕥ authors note: enjoyed writing it more than I thought I would honestly. tried to make it so she was more unsure than he was and in the end, I liked it. working on incorporating more dialogue in the future because it is definitely not my strong suit. I'll also alternate between requests and my own ideas so if you requested something, keep it in mind <3

ꕥ warnings: mentions of alcohol, sex, barely mentions thoughts of abortion

TWO RED LINES. her heart had skipped a beat, more like several as she stared at the dark red line and a faded pink one next to it. she couldn't believe her eyes. it couldn't be possible, it repeated in her mind.

but it obviously was. they hadn't been very careful, they're young and dumb and in love. two people so deeply in love that they couldn't care less. at least she thought they did at the time.

staring at the test in front of her shook her whole world, an entirely different branch of her life she'd never expect to take this soon. it was right in front of her.

despite being together for a year or two shy of a decade, it felt too soon. they were still young, had plenty of parties lined up in the near future. plenty of drunken nights running through the streets of monaco barefooted, hands intertwined as the world was focused on them. how they'd escape to the farthest rooftop, drunken makeouts leading to more as they came together under the stars.

they still had time. time to be what they'd missed as teenagers, to make memories. they had time to spend countless nights, wrapped in each other's arms under cold skies on balconies across countries, discussing their future. when they'd get married, where they'd like to live, if they ever left monaco which seemed unlikely, the places they've yet to see, how many kids they'll have and their names.

time for reckless driving through the streets of monaco with the wind crashing against them, hands raised as they cheered. he always drove to the most beautiful sight in the city, but always claimed it would never come close to the beauty she possessed.

time for runs across the beach in tiny bikinis and swim trunks as they raced on the sand. his arms capturing her waist as he tossed her around, feeling the vibrations of her laughter and screams against his skin. a feeling he'd forever cherish.

it all disappeared with a single faded line. everything she knew about their future collapsed with the test barely bigger than the length of her hand. it would affect everything.

it was conflicting. becoming a mother was all she ever dreamed and talked about, when she became older. she'd mention to her curly-haired boyfriend countless times of her dreams of having the mini versions of him running around the house they shared. the longing to see his eyes and curly hair with features of her own on another warm body. their child.

but she wasn't ready. in her mid-twenties, with years of life left to live child-free. tens of grand prix's to attend in support of her mclaren lover, watching 10 feet away from his car. nights to catch up on hours of sleep she lacked from keeping up with lando's lifestyle.

having a kid swept it all off the table. no more late night dalliances, or getting so drunk to the point where lando would have to pull over the car to hold back her hair as she threw up in the bushes.

no more parties at ungodly hours of the night, watching drunk lando stumble his way to the dj booth, giggling over a glass of alcohol at his actions.

no more sleep. she knew she'd be woken up numerous times in the night from the cries of her child, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to give up sleep yet.

and she wasn't sure lando wanted to give up formula one either. obviously, a balance between the two worlds is possible, but she knew he would want to be there with her, and she didn't know if he could.

it scared her. the thought of this changing the dynamic of their relationship on levels she couldn't even begin to think of. she's seen countless videos of how having a child completely changed the way couples worked, good and bad, and she didn't want that fifty-fifty.

she'd sat staring at the test between the tips of her fingers for a solid twenty minutes before she heard a patterned knock she grew familiar with from her beloved boyfriend.

the door muffled his voice just slightly, "darling, you 'right in there?" his hand wrapped around the now cold door handle and twisted it, but it failed to turn as it pressed into his palm.

it was unusual for her to lock the door, she knew he would question it. and she knew she couldn't use the excuse of that she's changing or showering because lando simply didn't care whenever she was. he'd sit and keep her company till she was done with whatever she was doing because it was often what they did. sit in silence, enjoying the presence of one another.

"yeah, I'm fine!" she called out to him in a rushed tone, flinching enough that she nearly dropped the test. she watched as the door knob shook, shoving the stick into the bottom of the trash temporarily. she'd remember to remove it eventually.

she turned on the sink as she hid the box of tests in the depths of the cabinet under the sink. looking at herself in the mirror, she'd wipe away the tears that built in her eyes. she didn't want him to notice, but like always he would.

from the locked door to the second she opened it, he'd watch it. she'd see him leaning on the wall just outside the door, patiently waiting for her to come out to him. he wouldn't question it, he trusted that she would eventually come around to tell him. she always did.

with the frequent trips to the bathroom and the slimmed selection of foods in the fridge, he'd suspect something, but he wouldn't know for sure. not without her word.

because for the time being, it was a secret she kept to herself, as much as she despised secrets. she felt like she was guilty to be hiding something from the person she trusted most in the world.

times when she thought the room was empty, she'd be pacing long ways back and forth with her arms crossed and her face solid. he'd watched her from the doorframe with his arms crossed against his chest, mirroring her position slightly.

times when she'd drop whatever she was doing to rush into the bathroom and spill her guts into the toilet as he held her hair and ran his fingers along the nape of her neck. she claimed it was a stomach bug, but he knew better. he also knew better than to question her words so he said nothing, but made a multitude of soups for her to sip on, taking notice of her now acute taste.

times when she'd cry over the tiniest of things, comforting her in his arms while she sobbed against the fabric of his very worn hoodie that happened to be her favorite.

it wasn't a great shock when she first told him. stuttering over her words as she fumbled with the sleeves of his long-sleeve shirt that went well past her fingertips, he could see tears brimming her eyes with her heightened sensitivity.

so when she muttered the words, "i'm pregnant," his world stopped, restarted, reloaded and stopped again when he finally processed the words. though he knew he could've expected it, hearing the confirmation leave her lips left his world tipped sideways.

but he wanted to hear it again, needed to, words breathlessly escaping his lips, "what, love?" he heard her the first time, but he wanted to hear it again. and again and again.

she choked on her words, sobbing out again, "I'm pregnant, lan," he pulled her into his chest, his hand finding it's way to the side of her head as he cradled her, pressing his lips against her hair.

as they swayed, it finally dawned on him, muttering unsure and excitedly against her head, "I'm going to be a dad?" his breathing deepened, his tongue gliding across his lips, then biting at the sensitive flesh. he felt his heart hammer in his chest, nearly comparing to when he first asked the girl out all those years ago. he reminisced the time when the biggest deal he could think of was rejection. now the girl he had crushed on when he was just a teenager just told him she's pregnant. with his kid.

part of him couldn't be happier, they had spent countless nights in bed, lying on their sides facing one another with stupid grins on their faces as they pondered their future together. whatever they wanted, it always had the other in their thoughts and plans.

this was just their plans manifesting faster than they might've hoped, and sure, he wasn't totally certain that it was the right timing after all. but this was their dream, and maybe they just needed time.

time to accept how greatly their life would be affected. he thought about how he'd have to leave her for days, weeks for his career, the few outlying times when she'd travel with him. he knew that would change, leaving her home with a new life to take care of besides her own. he hated the thought of leaving her.

they needed time to think, whether it was together or just by themselves. they needed to figure out how they'd make it through, if they could. which was a question in itself.

they needed to talk because part of her didn't think he would be so accepting of the change life threw them, permanently altering their course of life and the years to follow.

deep inside, they're scared. they knew they would've been, planned or not. it didn't make it any easier. but when he asked such a simple question, it lifted a massive weight that had been carrying on her shoulders. part of her knew he'd always be so accepting. everything is an experience after all.

with every month passed, every growth of the life within her body, he'd mention. he was the nerdy type to compare the size of the baby with fruit. he'd goggle each week with every new development she'd create. it shook his mind to even comprehend. she could make bones, organs and the tiniest lashes of their soon-to-be kid all within the confines of her body. to him, it was sacred.

and of course, he'd tell just about everyone from every team. all the drivers, mechanics, pit crew, team principals, the list goes on and so does his rants about her.

countless photos of appreciation for her on his social media, after all she was carrying his child and he was ecstatic. he'd spent every waking moment he could with her, his hands always somewhere on her, prodominantly on her growing stomach.

when he felt the first kick, he pulled his hand away sharply, looking at her with a dropped jaw and wide eyes, "it kicked me!" he'd exclaim and she slapped his shoulder, scolding him.

"don't call the baby an 'it!'"

"what else am I supposed to call it?" again, earning another slap to his bicep, and he'd look at her with a growing confused look.

"stop slapping me!" he held up his arms in defense as she scowled at him, her arms crossed over her chest. she pursed her lips before sighing as he'd replace his hand on her stomach.

"babe, I don't think this baby likes me," he looked between his hand and her eyes, feeling the movement under his palm. it was a weird sensation, something he'd never expect to feel so soon, or at all.

all she could do was laugh at the stupid expression across his face as he looked back and forth in bewilderment. the warmth from his hand, and the small calluses sent goosebumps across her skin. it incited a smirk to take place on his face, but she slapped it off. he'd expect to feel more of those as the months went by, especially with all the sly comments she'd hear slip past his lips.

with every ultrasound appointment, he'd be there. he'd make sure of it, no matter where he was or what he was doing. she also scheduled them in accordance to his race and where in the world it took place.

every time, his eyes would be locked on the screen that projected his child, a part of him in another life form. a smile always creeping into his face as he held her cold hand. more often than not, he'd get curious and try to become the technician, stealing the equipment out of the professional's hand. his girlfriend would scold him like he was some sort of dog. in response he'd groan, rolling his eyes at her.

he'd still try though, and the technician laughed it off. he'd make comments to her in reassurance, "babe, i've got this," he'd tell him as his hand with the wand came closer to her stomach.

"where's your degree then?" she snapped back, giggling at his sudden pause before he shrugged, waving it off his other hand.

" 's at home."

when the time finally came to birth their new life into the world, god did lando panic. everything he had prepared himself with went out the window when she'd mutter the words he'd been waiting to hear.

"lando," she mumbled as she sat on their couch, turning to him with wide eyes, "I think it's time." her sleeve-covered hands were at her face as she bit nervously on her nails.

he'd stutter over his words, hands in his hair, "you're joking." he'd say repeatedly as he rushed around the apartment, grabbing things. he was the type to grab everything and forget her still on the couch.

she'd call him on her phone when she sees him in his car from the window, through the pain, she laughed at him, "forget something, norris?"

"no, darling, I've got everything-" she'd see his movement pause, his hand returning to his hair, "fuck!"

when he'd come back to help her, she was nearly collapsed with laughter despite the pain she felt through her body.

"stop laughing at me!" he whined but he was laughing with her. nonetheless, they'd get to the car.

she was in labor for hours, crunching on ice chips that he'd fed her carefully. he'd massage her shoulders, hold her hand when contractions got particularly unbearable. he knew not to mumble bullshit words of encouragement, a word of advice from his mum, advice he'd gladly listen to.

instead he'd show her he was there by doing everything she asked until it was time to actually deliver their child they've been waiting 9 months to finally meet.

with a pale face, lando would comment, "I think one kid is fine after all." she'd roll her eyes at his words as she held their daughter in her arms, already seeing themselves in her. she was exhausted and he knew. he put her hair up, cooing words of appreciation to her now that all was done. he took care of her.

he'd remember call his mum later to tell her thank you.

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toshidou · 1 year

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lighthouse for a lost comrade . . .

Pairing // Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word count // 4.9k

Tags // 18+ ONLY, AFAB reader, soft simon riley, written from simon's perspective, mild descriptions of injury and blood, hurt and comfort, aka simon finally allows himself to be looked after <3, he is a big boy with a heart that yearns to be loved you cannot convince me otherwise, the softest of smut, praise, you accidentally give ghost a 'sir' kink, reader calls ghost sir a couple of times because they're hot like that, unprotected sex (tut tut), creampie, a whole lot of swearing

AN // i love this man a ridiculous amount, so me writing nearly 5k about how much i love him was inevitable

AO3 link here

Simon Riley is not a man who cares about his own health. In fact, his wellbeing never has, and never will be a priority to him. He has work to do, gruelling, gritty, gruesome work, it is beyond pointless wasting time even thinking about when he last had more than 3 hours sleep, or how long it’s been since he consumed anything other than cold military rations. In his defence, he’s never really had a reason to give a shit, he sees the hourglass whenever he allows himself to close his eyes; watches the sand slip rapidly through the cracks, counting down until his inevitable, most likely painful death. He’s living life on a timer, and he’s never had a reason to change that.

Until he met you.

You were a wide-eyed rookie, Laswell bringing you into the fold as a technician, a skilled hacker and mechanic who despite your innocent doe eyes, held lethal talents. He remembers so vividly, the way your head had cocked to the side as Laswell introduced you to the peculiar members of task force 141, remembers the way your eyes stopped on him. You showed not a single ounce of fear or hesitance, just pure unbridled curiosity. That same curiosity led you to asking him far too many questions, relentlessly prying to see more of the man behind the mask, to see Simon Riley, rather than ‘Ghost’. It should have pissed him off, he should have reprimanded you for your callousness towards your Lieutenant, but somehow you knew exactly which questions to ask, knew exactly when to stop and move on to other subjects.

Contrary to popular belief, Simon doesn’t hide his past, doesn’t try to use it to fuel the mysterious and mythical reputation he’s unwittingly built. It’s just that no one ever asks. Maybe it’s something about the skull mask, or the egregiously high kill count he sits so casually on top of that has people wary of ever approaching him. But you—you had no hesitation. You read him like a goddamn book every single time, and it simultaneously terrified and relieved him.

One glance and every secret he shoved behind his balaclava is left bare before you, leaving him with a vulnerable, gaping wound in the shape of a lifetime of trauma and tales that Simon knows no person should ever have to experience. And yet, your eyes hold not an ounce of pity, no awkward silences attempting to be alleviated with an awkward pat on the back and a “that sounds rough, buddy”. You see his past, his pain, his suffering, his bad habits, without him ever having to explicitly say anything. And in return, you say nothing. You don’t try and mollify him about circumstances he’s moved on from long ago, you make no effort to coddle him, to sit him down and patronisingly ask him if he’s doing well, or when the last time he slept was.

Instead, you leave him cutely packaged leftovers on his doorstep, easy meals he can throw in the microwave when he’s too tired to even comprehend making food. You buy him a multitude of jigsaws and puzzles for when sleep evades him as it so often does. You never once try to change him, never force yourself into his life just so you can claim that you’re some selfless martyr. To Simon Riley, you are nothing short of a blessing, and falling in love with you was quite frankly the easiest thing he’s ever done.

He takes off the mask for the first time when neither of you were prepared, nor expecting it. The mission had been so fucking rough, camped out in the middle of nowhere on the hunt for someone he was sure had long since gone. Weeks spent trudging through thick mud, swimming upriver, tracking footprints that led nowhere, steered them to no one. His bone-deep exhaustion finally caught up with him after being shot in the leg and falling nearly 75 metres off of a cliff, plunging into the water below. Price had insisted he go straight to the medic tent back at basecamp, but then simply sighed and shook his head, resigned, as he watched Simon limp off the chopper, and in the exact opposite direction.

To most, this would be the latest example of Simon Riley once again disregarding his health for the sake of keeping up the stoic, strong mask he never let slip. Yet this time, Simon Riley was not disregarding his health, he was, for maybe the first time, trying to preserve what little of it he had left. His leg was near numb by the time he made it to your tent, his foggy mind quickly soothed by the sound of you humming along to the radio, accompanied by the rapid clicking of keys as you worked on some coding. It takes him hissing in discomfort as he attempts to remove his military boots for you to turn around, eyes going impossibly wide as you watch an alarmingly large pool of red grow at his feet.

“Jesus Christ Ghost, are you trying to redecorate my floor?” He kept his mouth shut, using the last dregs of his energy to keep his gaze pinned on you, dark brown irises following your every move as you usher him into the chair you occupied merely seconds before, gingerly hovering your hands over the drenched material that clings to his thigh, soaked in blood and water.

“I’m going to cut the material above the wound, okay? I need to see what I’m working with here.” Your eyes connect with his unwavering gaze, translating his silence into a language that has taken you an eerily short period of time to become fluent in. He watches you nod to yourself, can pinpoint the cogs turning in your mind, can practically see you write the list of how best to deal with this situation as you unpack your first aid kit. Somehow, despite his leg stinging like a bitch, despite how utterly worn he feels, so raw and rough around the edges, he feels at peace.

Price may think he was a stupid bastard for not seeing one of their trained medics, but Simon knows without a doubt that you will always be the best thing for him, you will always be the first port of call, the lighthouse that guides him oh so safely to shore, to home. Even when your stitches are a little uneven, even when you dab a little too much alcohol disinfectant onto his wound, even when you wince every time the muscle in his leg twitches involuntarily, he watches you pour every ounce of care and tenderness into every touch, watches you take care of him in a way no one else ever could, not that he’d let them.

You’re finishing off wrapping up the wound on his thigh when Simon realises he doesn’t want this moment to be over. He selfishly craves more of your delicate, gentle care, unsure if he could ever have this again after tonight, if he deserved it.

So, he waits. He waits for you to lean back on your haunches, bending back to check your handiwork with a satisfied smile tugging at your pretty lips. He waits for your eyes to drift to his, as they so often do, and then he speaks.

“I uh, I got hurt here too,” The words grate against his throat like sandpaper, rough and unsure as he lifts his hand to prod at his cheek, “think I hit a rock in the water after falling.” You stand immediately, eyebrows furrowed together as your fingers gently brush the small rip in his mask.

“I can’t see much with this in the way, Ghost, though I think you’ll live.”

Simon couldn't pinpoint exactly what had his fingers hooking under his mask, couldn’t single it down to any particular moment or word that had him pulling the black material over his chin, and up past his nose, he just knew it felt right. All he focused on was the way your lips fell agape, how your hands lifted automatically towards his wrists, whether to stop them or encourage them further he didn’t know, but he sure as fuck clocked the slight tilt to your head, taking him immediately back to when you first laid eyes on him.

You were looking at Simon in a way he can’t say he’s ever experienced. Like a complicated mixture of guilt and awe. But he feels no fear, no regret as he throws the skull balaclava unceremoniously onto the floor, and directly into the pool of blood he’d left by the door.

“Should be a little easier to see now, don’t you think?”

All he gets in return is a small huff of a laugh, the ghost of your breath fanning across his exposed face, he swears he’s never felt anything as sweet. That is until your hand comes to cup his face, shudders erupting down his spine when the pads of your impossibly soft fingers brush just under the superficial cut on his cheek.

“I don’t know Si, I think we might have to amputate.” You murmur, an overly dramatic lilt to your voice as you pretend to further examine the ‘wound’. And Jesus fucking Christ, if he isn’t so impossibly, incredibly fond of you.

“That bad, huh doc?” He leans forward, just enough to catch the way your pupils dilate, the slight hitch to your usually even breath, “Are you sure there’s nothing you can do to save it? I’m particularly fond of that cheek.” He drinks in the soft hum you give in response, watches you with rapt attention as you lean further forward, and nearly passes the fuck out when you press your lips to his upper cheekbone, because what the fuck.

Before this, Simon Riley could say with absolute certainty that he’d never once blushed in his life, but now? He could feel the blood rushing to his face, knowing without a doubt that you could feel the heat radiating from where your fingers and lips remain connected to his skin. His wide eyes, blackened around the sockets from a mixture of paint and week-long exhaustion, remain firmly fixed on you, hardly hesitating before he secures your hand against his face the second he feels you pulling away.

There are no words exchanged, nothing but shallow breaths and searching eyes before Simon allows himself to be selfish just this once and pulls you onto his uninjured thigh, guiding you to sit with his other hand, fingers digging ever so slightly into the meat of your hip. And now he has you here, right where he’s always wanted you, there’s not a chance in hell he’s ever letting you go.

“Please kiss me, Simon.”

As if he could ever say no to you.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He removes his hand from your wrist, dragging his scarred knuckles as delicately as he possibly can across your cheek, fanning out his fingers around the side of your face, using the leverage to guide you impossibly closer. He allows himself one last look, tracing his gaze from your lidded eyes to your lips before he lets his eyelids fall shut, and loses himself in you. Loses every ounce of tension and exhaustion under the ministrations of your fingers as they tangle into his hair, and finally, fucking finally, he feels his once cold, dead heart thrum to life as you sigh contentedly against his lips. Kiss of life in-fucking-deed.

He's lost in every inch of you, can’t get over how soft and warm the plush of your waist is under his fingers, how responsive you are when he slides his hand ever so slightly under your oversized t-shirt. He wants more, he needs more, can’t help himself as he moves his kisses from your lips, down your jaw, until he reaches the base of your throat, sucking deep purple bruises into your supple skin.

“You taste like heaven,” He’s all too aware of how raspy his voice has become, desire only deepening his tone further as he drags his lips back up the expanse of your throat, a deep groan pulled from his throat when he feels you shift on his lap, highlighting the growing pressure of his cock straining against his pants. “Driving me fuckin’ wild already. Look what you’ve done to me, gorgeous.” His fingers come to curl under your jaw, directing your gaze down to the prominent tenting of his trousers, ensuring his eyes don’t dare drift away from your face as he watches you take in the view before you.

“Mine.”

The noise Simon makes in response is nothing short of primal, it wasn’t a sound he was even aware he could make, near guttural, but of course you would be the one to pull it out of him.

“That’s right baby, all yours, fucking hell,” he’s powerless to stop his eyes squeezing shut when he feels your fingers curl around his clothed cock, mustering every ounce of strength he has left not to cum in his pants there and then, because he’ll be fucking damned if he lets anything get in the way of giving you the pleasure you deserve.

“Come on Si, look at me.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath before he finally opens his eyes again, instantly zeroing in on your fingers as they begin to unfasten his pants, before flicking back up to meet your gaze, “Is this okay?”, your voice tentative.

“More than okay, Jesus,” Simon wastes little time after that, hands sliding under your shirt and shifting further up your torso, muscles freezing when his hand contacts nothing but bare skin, grazing the flesh of your breasts.

“No bra? Lucky me.” You laugh, arching your back further into his touch.

“More like lucky me, those things are basically torture devices, Simon, I’d like to see you try and work with metal wire and straps digging into your boobs and back,” He grins, pinching one of your nipples between two of his calloused fingers and revelling in the way your smirk twists into a moan, hips twitching against the rough material of his cargo pants.

“I think it’s about time you took these off,” He mutters, one hand dropping to thumb under the waistband of your sweatpants, “Can’t tell you the number of times I’ve thought about how pretty you’d look getting yourself off on my lap.” Apparently, Simon doesn’t need to say anymore, watching with intense eyes as you pull away from his grip, and begin undressing. Your top joins his mask on the floor, soon followed by your pants and underwear until you’re stood in all your naked glory, mere inches away from him. Simon must be the luckiest son of a bitch on this entire fucking planet.

He takes advantage of your absence by lifting his hips, cocking an eyebrow at you as he gestures towards his trousers, “Give an injured soldier a hand, would you doll?” Truthfully, Simon knows he would have no issues removing them himself, but why would he do that when he can have this instead? When he can have your body pressed in between his thighs, your deft hands undoing his buttons and sliding the material of his military pants slowly over his wrapped-up leg, when he can watch your eyes drink in every inch of new skin revealed with barely contained desire. No, he would much rather have this, especially when your dainty hands peel away his boxers, leaving him only in his top and vest plate.

“Simon…” You whine, your lips so perfectly pouted, a cute little furrow between your brows as you pull and tug at various parts of his vest, “help me take this shit off. It’s not fair that I’m the only one naked here.” He hums, schools his face to show careful contemplation, reaching up a hand to rest on your bare upper thigh.

“What’s the magic word, sweetheart?”

“Please, sir.”

Well fuck. That awakened something within him.

With military precision, he unsecured the armoured vest from his body, wasting no time in pulling his shirt over his head, joining the now large pile of clothes left scattered across the floor of your tent. For a brief second, Simon feels so incredibly vulnerable under your intense gaze, wondering if maybe this is how people feel when he fixes his stare upon them, bare and defenceless. But then you lower yourself back into his lap, settling across both his legs with such gentle care, wrapping both your arms around the back of his head and pinning him with a look he thinks most likely reflects his own.

“You’re so beautiful, Simon,” It’s almost too much, the sincerity in your voice mixed with the way the words were uttered so softly into the air, as though they were a secret only to be shared between the two of you.

“I’m nothing compared to you.” You shake your head, smiling, leaning forward until your nose brushes his.

“Just take the compliment, Lieutenant.” He tries his best not to shiver as he feels your hand trace down his spine, instead shifts his focus onto how close your lips are to his, or the quiet noise you make in the back of your throat as his hands come to grip the meat of your thighs.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Something in the air changes, as though the collective patience between the two of you could stretch no further, so taut it had no choice but to snap. His lips crash into yours, desperation surging through Simon’s veins like wildfire. Fuck, what are you doing to him?

“Can I touch you?” he mumbles against your lips, large hands aching from where they rest, yearning the feeling of your wet heat against his fingertips.

“God, yes, please.”

With newfound strength, he lifts you from his lap and twists you until your back is flush to his chest, uncaring of the twinge of pain he feels from his leg as he settles you fully on his lap. Now, Simon has full access to every inch of your perfect body, nuzzling his face into the side of your neck as he litters the skin with open mouthed kisses, humming contentedly at the way you arch into his hands as he cups your breasts with both hands, fingers toying with your nipples until they’re perked and firm under his touch.

“No teasing, please,” Your pleading breaks him from a momentary stupor, bringing his head up to watch as you place one of your hands over his, guiding it further down, sweeping over your sternum, past your belly button, until his palm rests over your cunt, “I need you here, Simon.”

Fucking hell.

He couldn't find the words, couldn’t articulate them even if he had any. So, instead of speaking, he presses his hand over the curve of your cunt, groans when he feels just how hot and wet you are, all for him.

“Mine.” He repeats your words from earlier into the shell of your ear, a smirk stretching onto his lips at the full body shiver you give in response, growing near predatory when he feels your pussy twitch under his hand. God, how the fuck are you so wet? His fingers glide over your folds with ease, teasing your clit on every upwards swipe of his fingers, and when he finally dips his index finger into your cunt, he’s rewarded with the sweetest symphony. Breathy whines and whispered pleas of “more”, “deeper, Simon, please”, every request he happily indulges, now curling two fingers against your velvet walls, searching for the spot he knows will have you keening against his body. It takes a shift of his palm, the angle changing just enough to have you choking on a gasp, his other hand remains fixed to your breasts, pushing your chest down until you’re pinned against his body.

“Atta girl, feels good huh?” He slips a third digit in, cursing under his breath as he feels your pussy clamp down, twitching helplessly around his fingers as they continue to stroke relentlessly at your g-spot, “Gonna need you to cum at least once on my fingers before I give you anything else, baby.” He dares to steal a glance at your face, and is met with closed eyes, your mouth agape, and head thrown back onto his shoulder, you’re nothing short of a masterpiece. Your hands desperately grip onto his arms, nails digging sweet red crescents into Simon’s inked skin, as though the hold you have on him is the only thing keeping you grounded, and he feels positively fucking drunk on it.

You’re close, that much he can tell, and as much as he could absolutely keep you like this on his lap for another good few hours, he takes pity on your furrowed eyebrows and soft whimpers, removing his hand from your chest and placing his thumb into your open mouth. He doesn’t even need to instruct you as you close your lips around his digit and suck, your tongue eagerly lapping at the rough pad of his finger. He doesn’t have the strength to leave it there for much longer, overly aware of the way his cock desperately twitches from where it’s trapped between your bodies, instead focusing on the way you react the second his spit slicked thumb begins to rub tight circles around your clit.

“Si-, fuck, Simon ‘m close, so close, wanna cum,” There was never any other option for him than to watch you fall apart on his lap, but if he somehow needed further encouragement, “Please Sir, please make me cum.” It would be entirely impossible for him to stop the moan your words drag from his throat, to think of anything other than giving you your release. It’s obvious when your orgasm hits, having to stop toying with your now engorged clit to instead pin your hips down, worried there was a chance you might fall to the side if he didn’t keep you grounded.

“Good girl, such a good fucking girl, made such a mess of my fingers baby,” Simon hums against the side of your head, slowing his ministrations until he’s lazily fingering your still spasming pussy, drawing out the sweet sounds of post-orgasm sensitivity from your spit-shining lips. He waits until you finally regain some form of lucidity, waits until your neck straightens, no longer lolled against his collarbone to finally withdraw his fingers, soothing your whines at his absence with kisses to your jaw. But he makes sure your eyes are locked with his when he brings his fingers to his own lips, ensures you’re watching with nothing less than rapt attention as he cleans every drop of your arousal from his skin.

“Taste fuckin’ divine, princess.” Your head tips forward into your hands with a groan, and Simon couldn’t hide his pleased grin even if he tried.

“You’re not allowed to be this hot,” Your words muffled into your palm, the Ghost’s heart rate spiking when you looked at him shyly through your fingers, affection surging through his bloodstream like a shot of pure adrenaline. “Especially when I can feel your cock pressed against my ass.” As if he needed the reminder, as if that singular thought hasn’t been plaguing him for the past 10 minutes.

“And what exactly are you going to do about that, darling?”

His words were meant to make you shy, were said to watch those sweet eyes of yours widen. Except, Simon realises, he must have awoken something within you, something bold, something utterly fucking debauched, because instead of shying away, you lock your eyes with his, rising to the challenge he set. You stand up, turn yourself around, climb back onto his lap and sink down onto his cock in one fluid motion.

“Fucking-, shit, what the fuck,”

“I think that works for both of us, right, Simon?” You need to stop, or you at least need to give him some time to adjust to whatever the fuck it is you’re doing right now. He can tell you’re far from unaffected, however. The slight quiver to your voice, and the way the slick walls of your pussy clench greedily around him show at least that much. And yet, you’re pinning him with a fierce gaze, your fingers forming an iron grip on loose brown hair at the base of his skull, using him as leverage to grind your hips in circular motions. “Let me take care of you, handsome.” His response cut off by a groan as you begin to fuck yourself on his cock, his eyes frantically flicking from where your cunt swallows every inch of his shaft, back up to your heavy-lidded gaze, locked onto his as you effortlessly ride his cock.

So instead of trying to take the lead, to lift his hips to meet yours, for the first time ever, Simon Riley does as he’s told. He allows you to control the pace, lets you direct his hands to your waist, but doesn’t use it as a point of control. Instead he caresses your skin with rough fingers. He lets you take care of him. And God, does it feel good.

He lets his head fall back, lets his eyes slip closed, and allows himself to just exist in this moment with you. A luxury he hasn’t been able to afford for far too long. Instead, he focuses on the sounds dissipating into the air around your joined bodies, the soft pants and moans that spill from both his mouth and yours, the rhythmic slap of skin on skin combined with the slick noise of his cock fucking into your heat, and if he focuses hard enough, he swears he can hear the rapid beating of your heart where your chest is pressed flush to his.

“C’mon Simon, baby, look at me.” It takes an embarrassing amount of energy for Simon to lift his neck up, refocusing his gaze onto you, “You’re doing so well, letting me look after you like this.” And fuck, he doesn’t want to cry, can’t remember the last time he allowed himself the comfort of crying, but he feels so unequivocally safe around you. Still, the time for tears will come later, right now, Simon wants nothing more than to feel you lose yourself on his cock. He secures his hands on your ass, and stands, ignoring your surprised cries and worried scolding, and walks as best he can towards the mattress near your desk. He doesn’t want to admit that lowering you both down onto the cheap material nearly left him breathless, and he definitely won’t admit that you were right, he didn’t have the strength to do that. But now that he has you lying on top of him, cock still buried deep inside of you, he knows the pain was more than worth it. Because in this position, he can ground his feet into the mattress and focus on fucking you like you deserve.

He ignores the sting of pain in his thigh, no doubt ruining some of the stitching you had done earlier, but he couldn’t give less of a shit. Not when you’re mewling into his chest, nails scratching long, thin pink lines down the expanse of his chest as he fucks his hips ruthlessly up to meet yours. He knows he won’t last much longer, you feel too fucking good, and he has no strength to hold back, praying that you’re as close as he is as he snakes one hand down to toy with your clit once again. Relief washing over him when he feels your cunt clench like a vice around his length, allows himself one, two more thrusts of his hips before he finally reaches his peak, cock twitching like a heartbeat from where it’s buried within you, not moving until the last weak spurts of cum finish painting your cervix white.

“Fucking hell,” with his energy long since depleted, his body slumps into the mattress below, dragging you down with him, his arms still wrapped securely around your form.

“That good, huh?” You grin up at him, eyes glinting in the low light. You look positively stunning.

“You know it, sweetheart,” Simon pauses, looks down at where you’re still sprawled against his chest, and silently thanks the motherfucker who decided to shoot him in the first place, he’s not sure if he would have ever gathered the strength to have you like this, in the way he always craved. “C’mere, I want cuddles.” He grunts, choosing to ignore the surprised laugh you give in response, says nothing at your incessant teasing and light threats to tell Soap that “oh my god, Ghost likes cuddles”.

He does none of that, instead, he holds you close, stares up at the ceiling as you bury your face into his neck, whispering sweet confessions into his skin, words he soaks up and saves for a rainy day. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley has never been a man to care about his own health, even now he still sees that damn hourglass, unsure of how much sand remains. But now he has a reason to change that.

Now, he has you.

#☁︎⋅writing #simon riley #simon 'ghost' riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod mw22 #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #ghost x reader #ghost x you #dear lord #this derailed so quick #i wanted soft ghost #i got soft ghost plus nearly 2k of soft ghost smut #i ruined myself #anyway enjoy SLDFS

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theemporium · 8 months

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[2.3k] the hour is early, the lakehouse is quiet and luke finally gets a moment to appreciate his pretty girlfriend. (smut)

Luke Hughes was never a morning person.

Despite years of playing competitive hockey which resulted in early morning games and even earlier practices, he still despised waking up. He hated when he had to wake up early. He hated when he was woken up early by someone else. He just hated mornings in general, and he was glad when summer break finally came around and he had an excuse to sleep in a little longer than usual.

Which was why it was so odd he was awake—on his own accord—this early in the morning.

He tried to blink away the heavy feeling in his head as he reached for his phone, tapping the screen. His brows furrowed together at the early morning time flashing across his screen before he let out a small groan of annoyance.

He let out a small huff as he leaned back down on the bed, but despite the sleepiness he felt, he was too awake to just close his eyes and hope he could doze off again.

Luke stared blankly at his ceiling for a few moments, debating his options before he felt you shuffling beside him. He turned his head, seeing you instantly move closer to him like you knew he was awake.

His lips twitched upwards as he took in the sight of you. This was your first summer at the lakehouse, and he knew all too well how nervous you had been. You were panicked, scared that his family and friends wouldn’t like you—minus Jack who you’d obviously already met. You were scared about packing the wrong clothes, or forgetting something. You were worried you’d make a total fool of yourself.

As Luke had told you many times, your worries were instantly squashed the second you walked through the door. Everybody made you feel welcome, everybody fell in love with you a little bit just like Luke had. You fit in with the dynamic, and Luke couldn’t help but feel something quite like pride blossom in his chest whenever he saw how well you got on with the people he cared most about in his life.

And maybe he also enjoyed the fact you left him in charge of packing and he just happened to accidentally forget to pack your pyjamas.

You had spent the last week just sleeping in his shirts and, fuck, he would be lying if he said he didn’t love it. He liked the way they engulfed you, the way the hem brushed against your thighs and the way he could see your panties peeking under the shirt when you stretched your leg over his. He liked the fact you wore his shirts so proudly, that you liked that hidden possessiveness just as much as he did.

Before you could even get the chance to move away, he wound his arm around you and pulled you close to him, until you were practically sprawled over his chest. He lifted his hand, softly pushing some of your hair behind your ear as he took the silence of the early morning to just appreciate how fucking pretty you were.

Despite the months of you two being together, it never failed to amaze him that someone as gorgeous as you were with him. Both inside and out, Luke would forever claim he had never met someone more beautiful than you, and he stood by that—even if it was just to watch the way you’d blush after he’d say it.

His lips ghosted across your skin, a light but loving kiss placed on your forehead before his arms tightened around you to pull you closer.

“Hm,” you groaned before nuzzling your face further into his chest. “Stay still.”

“M’sorry, baby, didn’t mean to wake you up,” he murmured in a soft voice, a flash of guilt hitting him as he watched your face scrunch up.

“What time is it?” Your words were slurred together, your eyes still firmly shut as you spoke.

“Too early to be awake,” he grumbled before pressing another kiss to your forehead. “Go back to bed, sleep for another few hours.”

Your brows furrowed together. “Why are you not asleep?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted as his hands slid under the hem of your—his—shirt, his long fingers tracing random shapes along your back. “Just woke up, I guess.”

You frowned a little. “You okay?”

His lips twitched upwards at your sleepy concern. “Yeah, babe, I’m good. Just go back to bed.”

“I want you to sleep with me,” you muttered out.

Luke snorted. “Oh yeah?”

You let out a small huff of annoyance, softly pinching his side. “Not like that, creep.”

“You’re the one who said it,” he retorted, knowing full well that if you were properly awake right now, you’d be rolling your eyes at him.

“Like I’d ever sleep with you,” you retorted, though he could feel the way your smile was pressed against his skin.

“I think I could convince you,” he murmured as he ducked his head down, kissing a spot just below your ear.

You shivered slightly. “That was a lucky guess.”

“Yeah?” His grin widened slightly as his palms spread across your back, warm and smooth against your skin as he maneuvered you until he could duck his head into the crook of your neck and kiss along your skin. “Is this a lucky guess too?”

“Everyone likes being kissed on the neck,” you said, but your response sounded a little breathier than you cared you admit as you felt his curls tickle your skin.

“Just your neck?” He questioned, softly humming against your neck as his fingers hooked the neckline of the shirt you were wearing, his kisses trailing along your collarbone towards your shoulder.

“Luke,” you breathed out. “We can’t.”

His teeth lightly scraped against the base of your neck as you arched into him. “Why not?”

“People will hear us,” you murmured, but the excuse sounded deaf to your own ears.

“Nobody is awake right now,” he told you, and you knew he was right. You two were probably the only ones awake right now, there was no risk of you getting caught. “Just gotta make sure you stay quiet, babe.”

“Luke—oh.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as his hands gripped your waist, turning you around so your back was pressed against his chest. You could feel his body pushed against yours, could feel heart pounding in his chest and his cock straining against the fabric of his pyjama trousers. You could feel everything as his arm wound around your waist, his hand splayed against your stomach.

“Think you can keep quiet?” His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, low and gruff and, fuck, if it didn’t make you squeeze your thighs together.

“I can be quiet,” you promised, turning your head to the side to try and catch his lips with your own.

His lips twitched upwards as he moved his head back a little, just enough to ghost yours. “Yeah?”

“Yeah—” Your lips parted in surprise as his hand moved south, his palm cupping your cunt in his hand. “Luke.”

“Shhh, thought you were gonna be quiet,” he scolded mockingly as he pressed the heel of his palm against your clit, slow and purposeful moves that made a pretty whimper leave your mouth. “Don’t wanna wake anyone up, do we, babe?”

You shook your head, too scared to talk.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet f’me,” he murmured as he nosed your cheek and jaw, his fingers tracing over your clothed cunt as you squirmed at the light touch.

“Please,” you whispered.

“Tell me what you need,” he demanded softly. “Say the words, baby.”

“Need you inside me, please,” you whispered as your hand reached behind, curling around his neck until your fingers tangled themselves in his curls.

“Gonna give my girl whatever she wants,” he said as he nuzzled his face against your neck once again, little nips and bites making you arch back into his embrace as his fingers slid past the waistband of your panties.

Your mouth fell agape as his fingers pressed against your clit, slowly circling as you wiggled your hips back into him. He lifted his head enough to watch your face as his fingers slid along your wet pussy, your arousal soaking his fingers as he traced up and down your slit.

He watched the way your free hand slapped over your mouth when he finally sunk one finger inside you, feeling the way your walls clenched around him. He watched your eyes flutter close as he slid another finger inside you. He watched as he curled his fingers inside you, hitting that spot that only his fingers seemed to reach as you let out a muffle cry behind your palm.

“Luke, Luke, Luke,” your breathing was shaky as your hand darted down to grip his wrist. “Please.”

“Words, baby, words,” he murmured softly, his lips pressing soft kisses along your cheek and jaw as you tried to form a coherent sentence.

“Wanna come on your cock,” you confessed, turning your head to look up at him with bleary, wet eyes. “It’s been so long, baby, please.”

And that wasn’t an exaggeration in the slightest. Because as much as Luke loved the lakehouse and as much as he loved spending time with the people he cared about, it fucking sucked that he had barely touched you since you both arrived.

It sucked that there was always somebody in the house. It sucked that he couldn’t take the boat out with you without everyone knowing exactly what he wanted to do. It sucked he couldn’t just go out on a drive with you either. It sucked he couldn't even sneak into the shower with you after Jack got caught doing the same thing with a girl a few years back.

It fucking sucked that Luke had to watch his pretty girlfriend prance around in little bikinis and shorts, and have to keep his hands all to himself.

But here you were with wide eyed and flushed cheeks as you begged for his cock, as you begged to feel him inside you again, as you begged for him.

He could’ve come alone from your voice. But he didn’t want that, and this wasn’t the time for it. He didn’t know how much longer you two would have before someone in the house woke up, he didn’t know how much time he had until it wouldn’t be you two alone in this little dusk bubble, and he didn’t want to waste anymore time.

He pushed the plaid pyjama bottoms down enough to free his cock, gripping his length with the same fingers that were inside you minutes ago. He let out a hushed list of curse words as he stroked himself, nuzzling his body closer to your until he could hook your panties to the side and slowly slide into you.

“Oh shit—” His free hand quickly slammed over your mouth, the noises quiet and muffled as he bottomed out inside you.

You were tight. So fucking tight and warm around him, and fuck, Luke was prepared to wake up early every day if he got to fuck you like this. He pulled his hips back before thrusting back into you, his eyes fluttering shut as he listened to your muffled moans.

There was something so intimate about it all. The morning sun starting to filter through the cracks in the curtains, the birds chirping outside and the calming sound of nature accompanying the sound of his hips slapping against your ass as he slowly fucked you.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his voice a little whiny as he finally pulled his hand away from your mouth. “Squeezing me so good, baby.”

“Kiss me,” you murmured breathlessly, your body rocking with his thrusts. “Kiss me, please.”

And he couldn’t deny you such a simple demand, not when you were asking so nicely.

His lips slanted over yours as he kissed you. It was slow and messy and passionate, and he couldn’t help but let out a small groan when he felt your walls clench around him as his tongue pushed against yours. His hands tightened on your hips, his thrusts slower and harder as he felt your body completely sag against his.

“Shit, that’s it,” he panted against your lips. “Come f’me, honey, just like that.”

The noise you let out was soft and high-pitched when you finally came. Your body tensing and your walls clenching around him as you dug your nails into his forearm. You let out a soft cry as you came, letting the feeling of relief finally wash over you after almost two weeks of wanting nothing more than to jump your boyfriend’s bones.

Luke came soon after you, a few more thrusts before he was spilling inside you. He didn’t have the heart to pull out just yet, his forehead resting against yours as he took a second to try and get air back into his lungs.

“Think we can risk a shower?” You questioned after a few moments of silence, feeling his smile ghost over yours.

“Not a fucking chance,” he grumbled with a small sigh of annoyance. “What’s the rush anyways? Let’s just stay like this.”

“And let Trevor walk in on us like he tries to do every morning?” You commented with a snort. “Not a chance.”

Luke just let out a small whine as he curled his arms around you. “Five minutes,” he murmured in a softer voice. “Please? You feel good.”

“Five minutes,” you conceded. “But don’t fall asleep.”

But Luke was already fighting a yawn as he pressed his face against your shoulder. “Of course not, baby, I’m wide awake.”

“Liar.”

“I’ll make it up to you later.”

“In the shower?”

Luke snorted. “Keep dreaming, babe.”

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut

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hongcherry · 3 months

Text

how svt would react if their introvert s/o is socially exhausted

pairing/genres: svt x reader (gn); fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none? (plz lmk if i overlooked something)

author's note: for this anon! coming up with 13 different scenarios is not as easy as it may seem LOL, but it was fun doing something i haven't done before, so thank you for the request! i hope you got some rest, anon 💗

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

Seungcheol

After you climb into Seungcheol’s car after one of your many social events this week, you fail to control your overwhelming emotions.

Seungcheol instantly panics at your sudden crying. It started with quiet sniffles, but now you’re borderline sobbing in your hands.

He wants to pull you into his arms, but it’s not as easy to do so since you’re in his car. Instead, he rubs your thigh with one hand and your back with the other.

“Did something happen tonight?” he asks. There’s a mix of worry and anger laced in his tone. He can’t help but picture someone doing something to upset you.

You shake your head and try to calm your cries.

Truthfully, you’re just overwhelmed with responsibility. You’re exhausted with the need to put on a comradely and upstanding appearance. You’re tired of having the same mindless small talks and being over-aware of your surroundings. You just want to stay at home rather than be in public.

Once Seungcheol knows the reason behind your tears, which he had a feeling about these past few days, he drives you both home. He rubs loving circles on your thigh throughout the trip, sending you words of encouragement every now and then. He doesn’t want to attribute to your overbearing emotions, but he wants you to know he’s here for you.

The night is spent cuddling in bed and eating takeout food. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s exactly what you need. He had offered to give you alone time, but you kept him close. You may not want to be around people, but Seungcheol is an exception. He’s your comfort person, someone you don’t have to put on an appearance for. Someone who understands you and knows how to lift your mood.

When you’re on the brink of sleep, you feel Seungcheol’s lips press against the back of your head. He whispers words of encouragement and tells you he’ll always be here for you. You smile, turn in his arms so you’re facing him, and hold him tightly. He chuckles softly at your reaction and holds you as tightly as you’re holding him.

Jeonghan

Jeonghan claims to want to be an island.

He wants to be a place where people can come and go, leaving their worries behind. Except you ended up shipwrecked on the island and made a home.

Jeonghan leans against the headboard of your shared bed. Your back is pressed against his chest, legs tangled under the covers. You want to spill all your troubles to him, but after constant social interactions, you find it difficult to even express your fatigue. Instead, you both cuddle in silence. Heavy rain falls outside; the pit-pat of the droplets luring you into calmness.

Jeonghan knows something’s wrong, but he’s not quite sure what. He whispers that he’s here for you when you’re ready. You nod, pressing yourself against his warm chest more as you peer at him. He grins and captures your lips in his. The kiss is slow, lazy movements that drag for a little too long, but you don’t care. You feel like life’s been too hectic; you need it all to slow down.

Jeonghan gives your body a gentle squeeze as he pulls away. Your gaze stays on his for a few seconds before you pull him down again.

While you adore Jeonghan’s playful attitude, it’s times like these when you feel extra special. You know he’ll always be there when you need him. Whether you need to rant to him for thirty minutes, cry for fifteen, or simply be near him.

Jeonghan’s your constant.

Joshua

“Babe, are you ready to g—”

Joshua stops mid-sentence upon seeing your dejected form on the couch, shoulders slouched, and a guilty look on your face.

Today was your and Joshua’s two-year anniversary, and he had planned a night out. Normally, you would be over the moon. However, with your constant attendance at social events the past week, you’re dreading going out.

This was meant to be a special night, but you feel like you’ve ruined it. You want to power through, but your body has had enough.

When you finally disclose your troubles with Joshua, he instantly sits next to you and gives you comforting back rubs. He tells you that there’s nothing to feel guilty about. That going out isn’t needed to celebrate your anniversary. He only needs to spend time with you; he doesn’t care the how or where.

So, after a few more reassuring words, you find yourself spending the night indoors with your handsome boyfriend doing mundane activities like cooking and watching shows with little talking. However, you and Joshua are past the awkward silences. You’re able to find comfort in the quietness with him.

And when he gives you random kisses and reassuring smiles throughout the night, you know the night wasn’t ruined by staying in. You just needed him.

Jun

Jun has always been attentive to your needs. After knowing you for years, he can tell when you’re feeling off. You’ve been less talkative, less energetic, and less focused. It’s almost like you’re just a shell of yourself—not really living but just going through the motions.

While you’re away at the nth social gathering, he leaves for the grocery store to gather all the ingredients he needs for your favorite dish. It may not be much, but he just wants you to feel better even if it’s for an hour.

Your routine for coming home nowadays includes taking off your shoes, changing into something more comfortable, and then lying in bed for a few hours until you get up for food.

Jun greets you from the kitchen sweetly and you answer as nicely as you can. It’s nothing against him, but you feel too drained to do or say much. You smell something familiar that makes your stomach rumble. Though before you can question it, Jun gently informs you to get dressed and then come to the dining room.

You mumble an “okay,” then do as you’re told.

Jun’s got the table set and a small, beautiful flower arrangement in the center.

“What’s this?” you wonder.

Jun comes carrying food that makes your mouth water. You recognize it instantly.

“Just thought you deserved a nice meal,” he replies and helps you sit down, placing a kiss on your cheek before he leaves again.

You eye him as he brings in more small dishes. Everything looks incredible, and you can’t wait to indulge in his delicious cooking.

Jun gives you a smile as he sits and nods toward the food, inviting you to go first. The first bite gives you a burst of happiness; there’s something about great food that makes you feel good. Once you get some food in your stomach, Jun begins eating as well.

It’s a nice night after a tiring day. Jun talks a little, but it’s mainly filled with comfortable silence that you welcome. It’s actions like these that make you fall for him more.

Soonyoung

When Soonyoung finds out about your social exhaustion, he fears you won’t want to be around him. Is he making you feel worse? Should he give you some space?

You’re quick to deny his worries. You love his presence, but you warn you may not be as talkative as normal. Soonyoung nods in understanding—tells you he’s perfectly fine with that. He just loves being around you. Sure, he loves your voice too, but he understands needing to recharge after back-to-back social events.

When it’s time for dinner, Soonyoung hesitates to ask if you want to help. He’s not sure if that’s asking for too much, but you smile and follow him to the kitchen.

It’s not unusual to cook dinner together but the time is typically filled with chatting and instructions given by you. This time, it’s Soonyoung leading the dinner preparation. Lately, he’s been more into cooking. Granted, not all his dishes turn out that great, but every chef has to start somewhere. It’s rather nice seeing how excited he gets when executing a dish idea.

You follow his instructions well—chopping this, stirring that. Even though you’re not alone and are on your feet, your mind feels at ease. You don’t have to think about what to say next or how to respond to someone’s actions. You just need to let Soonyoung guide you.

He does so with care. Sometimes he’ll crack a few light jokes just to see the faint smile on your face.

When dinner is done and bellies are full, Soonyoung sends you off to rest while he cleans up. You feel guilty he’s done so much work tonight, but you’re grateful he’s putting in so much effort to make you happy. Next time he’s feeling down like you, you’ll make sure you put in the same effort to see him smile.

Wonwoo

Wonwoo knows the need for alone time. While he doesn’t mind being around his friends for hours, attending social events is a different story. Even if he’s with friends, there are still numerous eyes watching him and other worries he has to consider. It’s draining to constantly uphold an image.

So, when you come home from your final event, he takes no offense when you tell him you want to be alone for a while. Although he’s not sure how long “a while” is, he supports your need to recharge. He tells you that he’s here and to not be afraid to ask for anything as he’ll be there in an instant.

After thanking him and giving him a sweet kiss, you retreat to the bedroom.

Wonwoo sits at his gaming desk in the other room. His headset is on, and his fingers tap rapidly on the keyboard. He’s been playing for a little over an hour when you shuffle inside.

He pauses his game and pushes off his headset.

You’re silent as you push his chair back a bit and settle in his lap.

Wonwoo smiles and helps you get comfortable. You lean against his chest, arms wrapped around his neck tightly with your head nestled in his shoulder.

“You can play,” you mumble.

Wonwoo doesn’t reply verbally. He simply kisses the side of your head before he slips on the headset again and rolls his chair as close as he can get without squishing you.

Your eyes are closed as you lax in his arms. The sound of his keys clacking brings an odd sense of comfort to you. Although you still feel socially drained, you want to be around Wonwoo because if anyone can make you feel better, it’s him. You don’t need his words of encouragement, though you know he’d give them. You just need to know he’s here for you.

And he is.

Always.

Jihoon

There’s something so mesmerizing about the way Jihoon works. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, indicating how much he’s focusing.

“Whatcha’ looking at, babe?” he chuckles when he catches you staring.

You peer at his eyes and smile, shaking your head. “Nothing. I just like watching you work.”

He hums and sets down his phone that he’s writing lyrics on. He pulls you closer, squeezing you and kissing your forehead.

“You doing okay?” he asks.

It’s been a few days since you confided in him about your social exhaustion. One too many social gatherings have left you with low energy. You haven’t felt like doing much, but Jihoon doesn’t seem to mind. He’s content doing different activities while in the same room.

You shrug in response, and Jihoon gives you a sad yet encouraging smile that tells you to keep going and hang in there. He understands having to do things because you have a responsibility. It’s not always easy, but you have to persevere. And some days it’s easier to; some days it’s not. However, with Jihoon, those easier days happen a lot more often.

You rest your head on Jihoon’s chest while he picks up his phone again. It’s silent except for the sounds of him pressing the keyboard. You wonder what he’s writing about, but Jihoon has never been one to lend you a sneak peek. At least, not while he’s in the process. Maybe he’ll let you review a draft, but that’s the earliest stage you get to see. Regardless, you always end up liking his results.

You don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep until Jihoon gently shakes you. He tells you he needs to use the restroom and that he’ll be right back.

Jihoon holds you closely once he gets back. He whispers a goodnight before falling into slumber as well.

Seokmin

After attending more social gatherings than you can count on your fingers, you’ve become drained. You could go without being around a single human being for a good month.

Except for one.

He lays next to you in bed, eyes darting across your features with worry.

When you ponder what’s wrong, he asks if he’s done something to upset you. You’re confused at first, but then it hits you. You’ve always inquired about his days; however, you’ve been lacking in keeping up to date with his life. You find yourself coming home, then eating and sleeping your day away. Even when you’re up, you’ve stayed to yourself.

You finally tell Seokmin that you’re socially exhausted. Just the mere thought of opening your mouth or being engaged in a conversation has you running for the hills.

Seokmin pushes aside his silent worries and tries not to put anything you’ve said to heart. You’re not upset with him—hell, you’re probably not upset with anyone but just need some quiet time. He’s felt this way before, so he understands you.

Seokmin slides off the bed and leaves the room. You watch in confusion, but he just grins and tells you not to worry.

After fifteen minutes, he comes back and leads you to the living room where he’s set up a mini spa. There’s a bubbling foot bath, a back massage cushion, and calming music playing. You can smell lavender and something else that you’re not sure of, but it makes you feel relaxed.

Seokmin spends hours tending to your body. From foot rubs to forearm massages, he takes care of your body in a way that makes you feel worshipped and loved.

You feel guilty that he’s pampering you so much, but he reassures you multiple times that all you need to do is close your eyes and relax. He has no issue doing this if it means you feel better.

Mingyu

You didn’t mean to snap at Mingyu when he asked if you knew where his wallet was. It was a simple question that had a simple answer. Yet, you replied rudely.

Mingyu had stared at you, not overly offended by your outburst since it was out of character. Rather, he grew concerned. Over the past few days, he’s noticed a decline in your attitude. He could almost see your patience decrease with each passing day. He’s aware of the social events you’ve been going to and figures you’re exhausted from those.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—” you try to apologize a few minutes later. You’ve calmed down and have reflected on your actions.

“I’m not upset with you, but if it makes you feel better, I accept your apology,” he says and pulls you in for a hug. A hug that engulfs you with comfort from his strong and loving embrace.

You end up telling him how you’re feeling, confirming his suspicion behind your outburst.

He gives your head a gentle kiss. You know he’s not mad at you, but you’re still disappointed with yourself for how you treated him.

When it’s time for bed, Mingyu’s by your side. He offers to wash your face for you so all you have to do is relax. With a nod, he washes his hands, then begins your face routine. Although it’s a thoughtful gesture, he tries to help rinse your face as well. However, it just results in wet floors and laughter. He apologizes but you wave a hand as you smile at him. He gives you a sheepish grin as he pats your face dry.

Perhaps that didn’t go as he planned, but at least you brightened up—even if it were just a few minutes.

Minghao

Minghao sits across from you, an encouraging smile on his lips. You follow suit and copy his sitting position.

He nods once you’ve settled and takes your hands.

“Close your eyes and copy my breathing,” he instructs softly.

Your eyes flutter close, zeroing your focus on the man before you. It’s quiet at first, but then Minghao inhales loud enough for you to hear.

You breathe in.

One.

Two.

Three.

Minghao exhales slowly.

You repeat Minghao’s patterns for an unknown amount of time. You simply let him guide you through whatever meditation practices he often does, which he offered once you told him about your social fatigue.

At first, your mind is still crowded with stress and exhaustion. It’s hard to try to relax when you know you still have more events to come. Though you continue for the sake of pleasing Minghao. You appreciate his time, even if it’s not helping as much.

Minutes pass as you still follow Minghao. Gradually your mind becomes empty—only focusing on the man before you, hands still in his. You don’t even realize how light you feel until Minghao starts pulling away.

Your eyes flutter open and see his gentle smile. You don’t even need to tell him it worked since the look on your face explains it all.

Perhaps you’ll be joining in on his meditation every night from now on.

Seungkwan

Seungkwan’s normally okay with touch. He doesn’t mind the lingering hugs or handholding in public. However, you, on the other hand, have never been as open as him. It’s unusual for you to be openly affectionate. Or at least not for a long time.

Though while visiting a farmers’ market, you cling to him more the entire time. When you encounter another person and have to converse, no matter how short the interaction is, you let Seungkwan do all the talking.

Seungkwan is naturally a talker, so he doesn’t mind taking the lead; however, you don’t even make a peep. Often, you’d at least chime in your two cents, but you don’t do that. No, you stay silent by his side and simply listen.

Seungkwan pulls you aside after a while and asks if you’re okay. When you give him a sad smile and explain you’re just socially exhausted from all your events, he instantly becomes serious. He apologizes for taking you out and not catching on sooner, but you’re not offended at all. You give him a reassuring peck on the cheek and tell him you’re fine, just not up for being around crowds too long.

Seungkwan nods in understanding, then starts leading you back to the parking lot. You tell him you can stay longer, but he refuses. He wants you to be comfortable and happy. He’s seen what he wanted and is perfectly fine heading back.

Halfway home, Seungkwan glances at you in the passenger seat.

“You want some ice cream?”

He smiles knowingly. Ice cream has always been your coping food.

You grin and nod, heart warm at his sweet gesture. Ice cream may be your comfort food, but Seungkwan is your comfort person.

Vernon

Vernon loves to watch movies. So much so that he’s dedicated Friday nights to movie nights. Each night you get to experience a new film with him. Sometimes you both love it, other times you both hate it. And of course, there are times when one loves it more than the other.

After the movies, you end up dissecting it. Some people may find that boring, but you and Vernon share similar hobbies—analyzing movies being one of them.

However, with your frequent social events, you find it difficult to be excited about tonight’s movie.

The movie summary seemed interesting, but your brain feels so drained that you doubt you’ll be paying much attention. Let alone be prepared to engage in a conversation afterward.

When Vernon sits down next to you on the couch, you turn to him reluctantly.

“Do you mind if we rewatch something instead tonight?”

Vernon gives you a confused look. You normally watch new movies, not old ones. When he asks about the reason, you give a summarized answer.

Vernon’s understanding and asks what you’d like to watch. Too fatigued to even think about it, you let him decide. He ends up putting on a movie that you both really enjoyed a few weeks ago. It’s light and easy to follow, yet it had spurred you both to talk about it for hours—somehow getting into a deep conversation.

You snuggle into his side while the opening credits play. He moves one of his arms around your shoulders, rubbing it tenderly. Although it’s not a traditional movie night, you’re glad you still get to participate in it regardless.

Chan

Chan would like to seem more observant than he really is. He would like to say he knew why you were so distant or why you seemed temperamental. However, he can’t. What he does know is that you’re not as bright as you are normally. He knows everyone has their ups and downs, but your down has been occurring long enough to worry him.

He’s standing in line at the grocery store ready to check out when his phone rings. He smiles when he sees your ID; however, your response is not what he expected.

You’re crying.

You’re sniffling and hiccupping so much that it’s hard for Chan to understand what you’re saying. He coos at you, trying to calm you down so he can grasp what’s going on.

After a minute, you’re finally able to tell him you’re overwhelmed coherently. Your social battery has run out of juice and all you want to do is come home.

“I’ll be right there, baby,” he says instantly.

He leaves his cart, apologizing profusely to the worker who eyes him at the act, then beelines it to his car.

It doesn’t matter that he spent an hour picking out food. It doesn’t matter that he was waiting in line for fifteen minutes. He just needs to be there for you.

Chan stays on the line throughout the drive. He keeps you up to date on how far he is and continues to reassure you that it’ll be okay.

He meets you outside the building and engulfs you in the most secure and loving hug. He holds you against his chest, letting you wet his shirt with your tears while he rubs your back soothingly.

“How does leaving a little early sound?” he suggests.

Normally, you try to stick it out. You have a responsibility and want to fulfill your duty. However, all these non-stop events have drained you beyond recognition.

You nod and quickly text a friend at the event that you’ve started to feel sick and need to leave.

You let Chan take care of you the rest of the day. He brings you food in bed, takes care of some house chores that you planned to do, and gives you plenty of cuddles and kisses.

a/n: i feel like i've entered a whole new world by writing a reaction/imagine 🤣 (i haven't, but im just dramatic)

divider credit

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

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hannieehaee · 4 months

Text

18+ / mdi

content: bf!jeonghan x reader, bf'sbestfriend!joshua, established relationship, one sided crush, teasing, jeonghan's a lil shit, smut, mentions of oral (m receiving), vouyerism (kinda), etc.

wc: 609

a/n: i thought abt this concept for a while hehe lmk if u would like a lil drabble about this

masterlist

boyfriend!jeonghan who has been aware of joshua's crush on his pretty girlfriend for a while, never really minding it but also being unable to leave that piece of information alone.

jeonghan discreetly teasing joshua about his crush on you by constantly gushing about you in his presence.

from showing him the pretty selfies you send him to going even further by 'accidentally' swiping one too many times and allowing him a glimpse of some of the more risqué pictures you've sent him on lonely nights.

joshua who is usually hard for fluster being caught off guard every single time, always gulping at the sight or mention of anything above pg13 when it came to you.

jeonghan letting you in on his friend's crush and even inciting you to participate in his teasing.

your boyfriend insisting you spontaneously join in any time he hung out with joshua one on one, making joshua a third wheel (but not really).

insisting on taking pictures of you and joshua together under the fake vice of wanting to have a whole collection of pictures of his girlfriend and his best friend together because what could be better than his two favorite people in the same frame ??

leaving the two of you alone for extended periods of time just to imagine his friend's flustered state at being alone with you.

inviting you on tour with them, with you having to share a room with the two of them whenever the members were assigned roommates.

playing around with you at night, supposedly waiting until joshua fell asleep but being fully aware that he could hear your muffled gasps as he took care of you only one bed away from his.

insisting you join the boys at the pool, smirking at his best friend's widened eyes upon seeing you in a tiny swimsuit.

jeonghan consistently getting off on knowing how badly his friend wanted you but couldnt have you.

buying you and joshua matching things such as sweatshirts and phone cases, claiming he also got some for himself but conveniently 'forgetting' them, making it seem like you and joshua were the matching couple.

chuckling to himself whenever you'd take a page from his book and flirt with joshua just to get a reaction out of him.

catching joshua watching you suck him off one night, having pretended to be asleep and closing his eyes right back the moment he made eye contact with jeonghan.

jeonghan smirking at him regardless, playing up his moans for you now knowing for sure he'd been awake every single time.

both joshua and jeonghan being aware of what was happening, with you blissfully unaware as you sucked your boyfriend to completion.

jeonghan cumming harder than ever before, but doing nothing about the situation, simply choosing to shoot his friend a wink before pulling your unaware self into his arms for some sleep.

jeonghan's teasing amping up even more from then on, making you sit on joshua's lap whenever there was no more sitting space, claiming joshuji wouldnt mind.

getting all three of you to hold hands in crowded places, with you in the middle as jeonghan insisted that it was so you wouldnt get separated.

going as far as having the three of you cuddle on the couch as you watched a movie, removing himself from the middle at some point and somehow managing to get the two of you pressed against each other.

jeonghan beginning to realize how much gratification he'd get from seeing you and joshua together, knowing this type of contact from anyone else would anger him, but being content with it if it was his good joshuji.

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writtnbyhan · 6 months

Text

Let me take care of you.

PAIRING: han jisung x reader

TAGS: sickfic, idol!han, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 1927

PROMPT: "and just when were you going to tell me about your [injury/illness]?" You're sick and Jisung is worried -- That's the plot.

warnings: mentions of being sick (reader has a cold). Let me know if I missed a warning.

author's note: i don't know where this came from. I had something very different planned for today's post but this came to me in a vision and now i can only think of jisung taking care of his s/o, he's so baby and he's probably so good at taking care of people !!!!! i just wanna be in between his arms !! being cared for !!!

Okay, here’s the thing: you knew you were getting kinda sick. You knew from the way your body ached when you first woke up, from the sore throat and from the general feeling of being unwell. However, you decided it was not a big deal, and that was obviously your first mistake.

It was Jisung’s kind-of-free day, which meant he only had to go to the studio with 3RACHA to work on “some stuff”, as he put it himself, refusing to elaborate claiming that it was a surprise. You knew they were probably working on music for the next comeback even when this one wasn’t even out yet, and that’s why Jisung wouldn’t come clean, wanting to avoid your reprimanding from overworking themselves when they finally have some free time from the studio, only having to comply with the schedules related to the comeback.

On these days, he was usually only busy for a few hours before they got distracted with something random and therefore decided to call it quits, going home and relaxing for a few hours before moving onto the next scheduled activity. Today, Jisung didn’t have any of those, only going to the studio and then straight back home. You didn’t want to ruin what little time together you were getting these days, and you weren’t actually sick yet, so it wasn’t anything you should worry about.

You woke up alone, the other side of the bed unmade from when Hanji woke up, earlier, and went to the gym before the studio. He spent most nights with you, cuddling to make up for the time you weren’t capable of being together due to busy schedules and responsibilities. Everything ached, and the only thing you wanted to do was cover yourself with the sheets and sleep some more. But, you couldn’t do that. You needed to take a shower, clean up a bit, and force yourself to feel better. “Just for today, tomorrow we can be sick,” you told your body as you got out of bed, frowning and closing your eyes when the light coming through the window was quick to cause you a headache.

Shower first, you decided, going for the warm water and hoping it’d help with the pain on your body. It did, luckily. You then brushed your teeth, noticing on the mirror that the bags under your eyes were darker and more noticeable. Yes, you were obviously getting sick. Tomorrow. You were getting sick tomorrow, because today you had to spend the day with Jisung and cuddle with him watching Ghibli movies, it was a need.

After breakfast, you took some ibuprofen and sent Jisung a quick text.

“good morning, baby. hope everything’s going well at the studio, missing you already :)”

Putting your phone down after that, you set out to clean up the apartment, taking more ibuprofen whenever your body was being inconvenient to you.

“hello cutie, we’re actually wrapping up for the day!! going home in 30, love you.” You read the text when ten minutes had already passed since it was received. With a smile on your face, you sent a quick reply, knowing it wasn’t necessary given that he was already coming home, but also knowing that he would sulk if you didn’t reply to his “love you”.

“love you too<3 will be waiting with the popcorn ready.”

Making good on your promise, you started making popcorn and conditioning the living room for

Making good on your promise, you started making popcorn and setting up the living room for your movie plans, bringing all the blankets you could find (which was not actually necessary, but you were starting to feel cold so you thought it’d be better to have those around) and the pillows from your bed.

As you were placing the popcorn on the table with some juice, the door opened, and in came the squirrel-looking boy that was able to put a smile on your face instantaneously, even when you were feeling so ill.

“Hello, my love!” you said, dramatically, bringing a hand to your own chest as if to hold your heart. “I thought you’d never make it, I was left missing you for too long!”

He smiled with that heart-shaped smile that made your heart do spins. You felt dizzy just by looking at him (okay, maybe that was the cold you probably had, but you decided to convince yourself it was Jisung’s fault). “My lady, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting, shall we begin with our plans?”

You giggled, skipping towards him to give him a kiss on the cheek and drag him to the couch that was currently surrounded by blankets. You chose one and threw it over both of you, getting comfortable in between your boyfriend’s arms with the remote in hand.

Halfway through the first Ghibli movie of the night, you began sneezing.

“’m sorry” you mumbled, getting up to grab some tissues and noticing you felt much more sick than in the morning.

You should tell Jisung, you knew that. But he’d worry, and you didn’t want to cut your night together short.

So, you didn’t. You grabbed the tissues and got back into his arms, kissing his hands when they were in front of you. Jisung freezed when you did that, and you frowned — it was a common gesture between the two of you, why was he reacting like that?

His hand went quickly to your forehead.

Oh, that.

Jisung gasped.

“Baby, you’re burning up.”

He sounded worried, and you sighed.

“I know.” You said. You didn’t actually know you had a fever, but you didn’t want him to make a fuss. You wanted to watch movies together, and cuddle, and sleep. And okay, maybe you had a headache and that had made you grumpy, which was something that always happened when you were sick so Jisung was used by now to your complaints about his caring.

However, despite knowing you always reacted badly to feeling unwell, that comment had made him frown, looking at you while his hand was still on your forehead.

“You knew?” he repeated, clearly agravated by what you had just told him. “And when exactly were you planning on telling me? When you collapsed in the hallway or while I was being forced to bring you to the hospital?”

He was being dramatic, of course, but the sincerity in his worry and his concern made your heart soften a little, so you directed your eyes to the floor, blinking to try and ease the headache that had formed from looking at the screen for too long.

“I didn’t wanna worry you” you mumbled, voice soft and shy. He melted a little at that, his anger dissapearing almost as quick as it had made his way forth.

“Baby, you need someone to take care of you when you’re feeling like this. We could’ve just cuddled in bed so you were more comfortable, and I could’ve been checking on your temperature and your medicine. What hurts?” he asked, giving a little kiss to your forehead before letting his hold around you loosen, clearly having plans of getting up.

You whined at the lost of his warmth against your back, your eyes filling up with unwanted tears at the cold and the loneliness you suddenly felt.

“Hannie…” you cried out, looking up at him, who looked almost bewildered. When he met your eyes, a pout formed in his face. He extended his arms towards you, now standing in front of the couch, and hugged you so you could attach yourself to him like a koala would to a tree. Your hold was weak, so he made sure to keep you safe with one hand on your back while he wrapped a blanket around you as if you were a baby. You knew the plan was to get you to your shared bed so you could cuddle more comfortably and drift off to sleep when you needed it. Problem was: you had needed it for about 15 minutes by now, so hiding your face in his neck and letting his warmth envelop you, you were quick to fall asleep against him, not minding his movements or the sounds around you.

You woke up when it was already dark outside. A wet cloth was on your forehead and you were now in bed, your boyfriend’s hand on your waist and Ponyo playing in the background. You looked to your bedside table and found a water bottle and some pills that you knew you didn’t have in your house. You knew Jisung never wanted to leave your side when you were sick, no matter that you were asleep, so you were sure he had those delivered or asked one of the boys to pick them up for him.

You turned around, letting the wet cloth fall off so as to hide your face in his chest. You felt better after sleeping, and you were sure your fever had subsided because you no longer felt cold, but your throat was still sore and your eyes still stung with the light.

At your movement, Han directed all his attention towards you, kissing your forehead and tightening his hold on your waist.

“Hello, sleepyhead. You need to take some medicine, I asked Chan-hyung to bring it here because all you had was some ibuprofen, and you were running out of it. How are you feeling?” he asked, his free hand caressing your hair and making you feel a lot more relaxed, even when your back still ached and your throat hurt.

“I’m okay,” you settled for, your voice coming out raspy and probably revealing what you were hiding. He chuckled, and you knew he knew what you just said was a lie, so you sighed. “I’m feeling a lot better, but my throat still hurts and my body aches. It’s probably just a cold.” You mumbled the last part against his chest, a subtle way of saying: there’s no need to worry this much.

He nodded, which you knew because you felt his head moving above yours. “Probably. Please, take some medicine so you can feel better faster.”

You did as he asked, taking the pill he was offering you and drinking from the water bottle he had uncapped and handed to you. You smiled at him in thanks, after wincing from the bitter taste of the pill.

“Sorry for ruining or movie date.” Your eyes were sad and he knew you were sincerely sorry. A pout formed on your lips as you thought of when you would be able to have the next one, knowing it’d be difficult to plan out given that the comeback was so close.

“You didn’t ruin anything, baby,” he said, equally as sincere. “It’s not your fault you got sick, and I don’t mind taking care of you — I really like it, actually. Plus, I got to watch the movies while watching you sleep, so… I really don’t mind. I just want you to be okay so we can have more movie dates.”

You blushed at his words, feeling soft and just wanting to kiss him — you both knew you should not do that, for he couldn’t get sick now because he had a lot of presentations and performances to do. You pouted.

“This is so unfair, I want to kiss you so badly,” you complained, and he laughed, kissing your cheek.

“I know, baby, me too. So, take your medicine so I can get all the kisses you owe me.”

#✿ . . cami writes #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung x you #han jisung x y/n #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #han jisung fluff

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upsidedownwithsteve · 4 months

Note

hi! im so glad ur doing well, my dash did feel a lil empty without your blurbs and random posts c:

if you're still in the writing mood, steve and unconsciously searching out each other’s hand while sleeping or not realizing they’re holding hands till someone points it out got me all soft and i think you'd write something cute w it :(((

🧡

Maybe it was paranoia. Maybe it was that animal part of your brains, the one Murray always spoke about, the part that quietly told you all there was safety in numbers.

Maybe it was because you’d all gone through enough to realise there were indeed very real reasons to be scared of the dark.

Movie nights turned into sleepovers, never really planned, but always wholly accepted. Bodies on couches, on the floor, sleeping bags pulled from attic spaces and kids crushed together top to toe on the pullout in the Wheeler’s basement. Someone on an old recliner, a blanket pulled from a picnic basket to use to keep warm, heaps of pillows making a patchwork on the floor, socked feet pressed to thighs because even in sleep it was nice to know your friends were close.

Maybe that’s why it happened.

A night of watching Jaws, everyone chewing on popcorn and pretending that there wasn’t something evil outside, something lingering in the dark that was so much worse than a big fish called Bruce. Before the credits could roll, before the spilled candy could be cleaned up, people would nod off one by one, soft snores becoming a well heard lullaby.

It was only you and Steve left, squished in the corner of the floor, sandwiched against the couch that Max and Eleven had claimed, your backs only just saved by a mismatch of sleeping bags and cushions reserved for the patio furniture in the summer. The TV buzzed with static, an indigo glow barely lighting the room and Steve had long lay down, cheek pressed to his pillow as he whispered back to you.

The conversation was never light hearted, not anymore, not even in the midst of a sleepover. Worried words always exchanged, knots between brows and an unsettled feeling in stomachs because everyone was past believing it might actually be okay this time.

Something had to give. Right? Right?

So sleep didn’t come easy, not when your last words, last thoughts were about survival and risk taking, about your friends getting hurt or worse. The chocolate coating your tongue turned to dust and everything tasted sour, so you stared into the dark until you felt it staring back, and only then did you close your eyes.

Sleep still didn’t come. It taunted you, teased at you from behind your eyelids, pulling you downdowndown until the sharp prod of the beginnings of a nightmare jerked you back awake.

At some point, when you lingered between sleeping and not, something touched your wrist. Something warm and heavy and comforting. You barely registered the feeling of it sweeping over your pulse, fingers bigger than yours curling over your palm, catching at the spaces between your own until you were holding on for dear life.

Something in the back of your mind told you it was safe, it was better now. You could sleep, it was okay, someone was looking after you.

A body, nudging a little closer, careful not to touch, but a solid wall of warmth beside you, a familiar scent, a thumb running circles over the back of your hand.

You didn’t wake until morning, after Nancy had stepped over your sleeping frame to start making coffee. You would’ve followed too, offered to help by pulling out mugs and cups, but something kept you tethered to the floor.

A hand in yours, fingers intertwined a little looser than before, but there all the same.

Steve.

The boy was still beside you, closer than when he’d fallen asleep, his nose dangerously near your own, his soft breaths huffing out warm air over your joined hands, clasped between your faces. He looked the most peaceful you’d seen him in months.

The lilac bruises under his eyes were still there, but his pink lips were parted lazily, lashes kissing his cheeks, his hair softer than you’d seen and falling into his eyes. He had a crease along his jaw from the sleeping bag zip, an indent of each stitch, pushed into his skin beside each freckle.

Someone stretched and groaned and the boy shifted, only just, nose wrinkling, lips pouting, his hand grasping yours a little tighter - as if even in sleep, he didn’t dare lose you.

You heard Nancy crack some eggs into a bowl, the coffee machine gurgling.

You stayed, holding onto Steve as tightly as he held onto you - if only until it was time to wake up.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #Steve harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington oneshot #Steve Harrington blurb #Steve baby blurb

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vivienne-charm · 5 months

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Bro's the type to... (2)

Here's the part one!

Part 2 because Part 1 reached 100 notes. tysm!!!♡

Shanks

⋆ bro's the type to blatantly flirt with you in front of everyone

⋆ bro's the type to slightly humiliate you in public for shits and giggles and make it up to you in private

⋆ bro's the type to challenge you while drinking

⋆ bro's the type to keep entertaining your little bickering until you actually get upset

⋆ bro's the type to claim you as his teddy bear that he NEEDS to be cuddling with so he can sleep good

⋆ bro's the type to act oblivious when he's being too touchy

⋆ bro's the type to look towards you first when laughing (you know how people tend to look towards their favorite person when laughing)

⋆ bro's the type to hide his jealousy by throwing sharp remarks at you

⋆ bro's the type to be so toxic but so irresistible

⋆ bro's the type to be your type

Ace

⋆ bro's the type to be such a clingy s/o

⋆ bro's the type to take you along on his missions and talk about luffy and sabo all the time

⋆ bro's the type to wake you up at night so you both can enjoy a cute little stargazing date

⋆ bro's the type to sleep on you, not beside you

⋆ bro's the type to not be jealous at all

⋆ bro's the type to tell you about the most mundane things about his life to the most personal stuffs, all in one conversation

⋆ bro's the type to treat you as his best buddy, because he knows you hold bit special place in his heart

⋆ bro's the type to be so out of touch with what he's feeling that when he tries to explain to you what you make him feel like, he just ends up giving up

⋆ bro's the type to have separation anxiety when not close to you

⋆ bro's the type to be your type

Law

⋆ bro's the type to be an overprotective s/o

⋆ bro's the type to encourage you to rant about your day to him, it gives him serotonin boost

⋆ bro's the type to get annoyed with your antics but try and play the same pranks on you and act cocky about it

⋆ bro's the type to act stoic when you do something for him, even when he's actually melting inside

⋆ bro's the type to blush and get flustered easily

⋆ bro's the type to get super duper angry at you when you fall sick, but he's gonna take care of you so much

⋆ bro's the type to drop everything and come meet you if you told him you don't feel loved enough

⋆ bro's the type to rarely take you on dates, but when he does, he's gonna pour all his heart and soul into making it enjoyable for you

⋆ bro's the type to be such a hypocritic idiot when it comes to your safety, he's gonna put his life on danger, while actively scolding you for doing the same

⋆ bro's the type to accidentally nerd out on his favorite comic, and get so pouty when he finds you giggling

⋆ bro's the type to be an awkward lover in the beginning

⋆ bro's the type to be my type, i mean your type

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #shanks #portgas d ace #y/n #shanks x reader #ace x reader #law x reader #headcanons #one piece headcanons

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nwndrlndn · 9 months

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pregnancy

pairing : anakin skywalker x pregnant!reader; | wc : 0.9k | 18+MINORS DNI

warnings : pregnancy kink ( but open to anyone with a womb ), possessiveness, anakin is a crep and perv, mildly objectifying, unhealthy relationships and worldviews, "mommy" is used once, mentions of oral

for the last 6 months, anakin watched as you continued about your daily life in the short bursts of time you spent together. between missions and meetings, in the few days off, and every night he could come home to you. every moment he could spend with you he would. and when the days finally came where your clothes grew too tight and you needed looser outfits, he would offer to get you your clothes and fabric orders. in the mornings, he would pretend to sleep to watch you dress.

but it wasn’t enough. he waited patiently, smirking when people noticed the small and excusable signs of your current state. he knew you hated to lie but there was a certain wave of desire that washed over him, watching as you lied through your teeth as you claimed cravings were caused by a longing to travel freely and your irritable morning state on having rough nights. though he knew just how good your nights were, after all, he was the one helping you release after such long, busy days.

so when you finally started to show, his ego soared, especially as your bump seemed to grow faster than you could prepare for. ever the doting husband, anakin offered and advocated so that now he could help you get ready in the mornings and undressed at night. buttoning, zipping, brushing, smoothing, tying, and adjusting. and teasing, his hands had access to every part of you because you trusted him. but you also wanted to tease him. that had to be it. why else let him be the only one so close to you? to touch you each night and care for you?

and thats why when he came home from a mission, exhausted and singed from blaster shots and swings of red lightsabers that got too close, his breath stopped when he was greeted with the sight of you relaxed against your pregnancy pillow and your pristine white robe stretched to cover your bump, with a sliver of your bump still visible. he walked over to you, hanging up his coat and kicking off his boots mindlessly, his eyes focused on you as he worked his way out of his jedi robes.

“ani, you’re home! i wanted to show you something, i was looking into a place to stay and-”

“just a minute, my love.”

anakin felt bad, taking you by surprise and silencing you, and once he saw you begin to pout he reminded himself to be extra doting to make up for it. he was on you in an instant, careful not to put any weight on your stomach, his lips kissing your neck and shoulders. he tugs off your robe, setting it behind him as he moves to cradle you from behind, easing his cock into you as he holds you gently. he was so scared to hurt you and he held himself up to watch your face for any signs of pain, and once he was fully sheathed, he returned to littering your face and neck with kisses.

for a moment, he wanted want to hold onto your hips and your waist and squeeze as long as he could. but you would whisper to remember the baby. and anakin wanted to tell you he was, he was being so careful with you and your precious baby, so just let him kiss your soft, glowing skin. let him thrust into you carefully, no longer aiming to fuck into you as deep as his anatomy allows. just let him have you, not the parent he’s making you into. his words are punctuated with kisses, and thrusts, strong but slow. anakin’s lips lingering by your ear when he wants you to hear him.

“just three more months, im gonna put another in you as soon as i can.”

“you look so good, baby. you're glowing.”

“you’re just as tight as you’ve always been.”

“i bet you’re gonna be a great mommy, and i’ll keep putting more in you.”

“there’s gonna be so many little skywalkers running around, the council’s not gonna know what to do with them all.”

he was desperate, but he wasn't selfish. his hands knew you well, knew every soft spot and each place you needed to be touched. anakin knew you needed this, just as much as he did and he treated you like you deserved. you deserved better than this galaxy, he only felt content once he watched your face contort in pleasure and felt how tightly your hole squeezed him. anakin came in you with a grunt, holding you to him as he shuts his eyes for a moment. he promised himself that once he finally relaxed again, he’ll go down on you until your eyes are too heavy to hold open.

he was like those royal brats he meets across the galaxy, so absorbed in their dolls and themselves that they were useless to the world around them. but he understood them now, because he had you, and you had his child. you needed the care he provided, you needed him and so would your children, it was more binding than your marriage, it was something deeper than that.

he could listen to your endless fantasies for your child because he wondered and hoped the same things to a certain extent. only he wished for a girl who looked just like you, and you wished for a boy for some foolish belief that it would make him happy to have his firstborn be a son. he couldn't care less. he had you, and the child was the proof of it. and he would take as many children from you so he could see how happy an army of his brats would make you.

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neteyamslovrr · 1 year

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RETURN - PT 1

summary: five years ago he left you. left you alone with nothing but memories of your love. so how dare he come back now?

contents: 1.5k words, fem!omaticaya reader, angst, swearing

authors note: AHHHH first chapter i'm so excited to post this guys!! thankuu to all my mooties that helped me brew this series

Nothing could ever surmount to the despair you felt that day. The day he looked into your weeping eyes, looked right into your aching soul, and told you he was leaving.

Leaving. You begged him to take you with him. Pleaded with his pained expression to let you stay with him. To take you with him. To walk every journey together.

But he didn’t. He shook his head, pursing his lips that have kissed you for the last time. Crossing his arms that embraced you for the last time. He said no. One simple word that crushed your entire self.

“It won’t be safe, I can’t take you from the forest, this is your home.” No. No he was your home! He was your everything. The last face you look at when you say goodnight to the day left behind you. The one you would run to, so you could tell him everything good and bad. The man you imagined your entire life to be with.

That same man who was running from his home, to never return back to you.

You pleaded with him, crashing onto your knees, wrapping your arms around his torso. Crying into him as you begged to accompany him. How could he leave you? How could he have the heart to tear out yours.

“Y/N…let go.” His deep voice ring deep in your ears. You knew he was talking about your physical grip on him. But it felt so much deeper. Let go. Let go of us. Let go of everything we ever were. Let go of me.

You shook your head desperately, hands still clinging to his body. The rough soil beneath you cutting into your knees but no cut would ever be as deep as the one he had laid into your soul.

It was as if the hands he took to pry your frail body off him were the daggers that were slicing up your heart. Leaving wounds so deep they would never heal. How could you ever heal from this?

You looked up at him, tears letting his cheeks dampen, his face showing nothing but grief as he met your hurt eyes.

“I have to go…Y/N you know I have to.” You did. You knew you had no say in this. Your words were insignificant to begin with.

His figure crouched down in front of you. Wiping the salty tears that stained your cheeks. He saw the way your chin quivered as he caressed your beautiful face.

A salty, sweet kiss was the last one you ever shared with him. A kiss you both cried into, gripping onto each other knowing it was the last time. It was bittersweet. To share a moment so close together only to be ripped apart.

All that connected you both was memories. Memories that now serve you nothing but hurt.

Five years had passed. Five dreadful years.

You were now a 20 year old woman. Adorned with your bow and the physique of a fit warrior. Though no amount of time could ever heal the cuts he left so deep in you.

For the first year, you were nothing but a shell. Never eating, never sleeping. You simply existed. Which was a chore to do without him.

You wished nothing but to stop existing. To stop experiencing every bit of sadness, every bit of grief. To stop mourning the loss of the only man you could ever love.

Tears were your most worn accessory, no one ever daring to tell you they looked bad. Too scared to send you spiralling even more than you already had.

Though, those times you spent rocking in your hammock. Looking at the stars that lit up the night sky, those cuts that ran deep within you, the cuts that caused so pain. They started to seep.

Started to seep blood red rage.

How could he ever have left you? Was he so selfish to not think of the effect this would have on you? Did he simply not care?

How was the one time he decided to act selfishly be the time wounded the one who loved him most? To be so selfish, to claim he would be keeping you safe.

Safe to what? The sky-people that reigned free through your planet. Constantly on the verge of war to aliens that had no consideration for your people. Just like he had no consideration for your heart.

You wanted to hate him. You wanted to hate him so bad, that every memory of him would fade into a blood red image of evil. That every memory would turn into a disgusting thought of a disgusting man.

You wanted to hate him with every fibre in your body. But you couldn’t.

Maybe that’s when everything stopped looking so blood red. When everything dulled out. Nothing mattered, he would never come back.

So with a tainted heart and an aching soul, you accepted that you would never experience the love of your mate every again. Never feel his touch, hear his voice, smell his scent, taste his kisses. You would never be with him.

That’s were Va’tep entered into your life. Barging into your knocked down walls and building a crappy foundation.

Va’tep, Tarsem’s younger brother. One year your elder. A fierce warrior, a man who refused to lose, a man who claimed what was his. And to him, you were his.

Your parents always longed for status. To be high up in the clan. You were their golden ticket, finding your way into the heart of Toruk Makto’s eldest son. They rejoiced in your heart’s residence, rejoiced in the fact that you fulfilled their one wish. They were your number one advocate. Pushing you to train for your rite of passage ever since you became closer with the boy. They worked every inch of their being towards the union between the pair of you.

But the hard work washed away as fast as the waterfall plunged.

Washing away all your dreams, your happiness, your meaning. It washed away your parent’s status, Va’tep being the life guard that pulls them out of the strong currents.

Nothing could ever amount to him though. Your heart resided with someone else as your body laid with his. You felt yourself fill with shame every time you shared a touch. A shiver of disgust running down your entire body. Breaking the vow of your love towards the boy who broke you.

“Where’s your head at beautiful?” That was what he called you. Beautiful. His voice would never be as sweet as his. Never send the right shivers through you.

Va’tep’s calloused hands caressed your cheek, so rough it felt as if he was dragging you with his touch. Everything he did was rough. Rough like the soil you pleaded on.

Maybe this was Eywa laughing in your face. Giving you a man so opposite to the man you craved so desperately. Even after 5 years, Eywa would never let you forget those memories.

Shrugging his hands off your body, he let out a low hiss. One that showed his offence towards your actions. A hiss so quiet, it would only be heard if you cared. But you didn’t. Something else was clouding your mind, taking your attention away from him. And it wasn’t just your past lover.

You made your way towards the growing crowd of people that formed around the entrance of High Camp. Va’tep’s calls after you were silenced by the gasps and whispers of your people that were creating confusion that bubbled in your stomach.

Pushing yourself to the front of the crowd, definitely stepping on the feet of others. You looked for the source of the commotion. Ears perking up and eyes squinting to find the one thing people were gawking at.

Though now as you look towards the source, you wish you minded your business. Everything was coming back. Every emotion, every curse, every thought, every tear. They all fell on top of you, crushing your soul as you let out a small whimper in fear.

The source was making its way towards you. No. No. NO. This can’t happen. This cannot be happening. Feet stumbling as you paced backwards, avoiding looking straight ahead.

Dread filled your entire being. Filling it from your toes until it felt as if it would spill out of you, gurgling in the pits of your stomach. No. No. NO.

Crashing into the back of a person, you were forced to halt your escape. Frozen in shock as you looked at the man who had broken your heart and given it back to you.

Lips quivering, tears pooling in your eyes. He reached his hands towards you. How could he come back? Why was he back? This is all some sort of sick dream. A nightmare.

“My beautiful girl.” His voice was deeper, still so sweet it would cause a cavity. It enticed you. You had been without his voice for so long.

So long…because he left you. Because he was cruel and selfish.

Shaking your head profusely, just like you did that dreaded day. Your hands shook as you pointed at him, an accusatory finger aimed at him as your mind swirled.

“I’m here now.” He should have never left, he should have NEVER left. What a sick fuck. To come back expecting open arms when all you wanted was to never have your arms leave him. “Beautiful? What is it?”

“I am not your beautiful, Neteyam.”

tags: @8resa @ilovejakesullysdick @neteyamsblog @live-laugh-neteyam @reyalvr @trashfox @darkacademictrash @scntfrhs @dreamyescapesfromreality @fanboyluvr @neteyamzmate @oceanstar19 @sharkybabe9

thankyou sm for reading lovelies!! reblogs + replies sososososo appreciated ilysm ily ily

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decolonize-the-left · 5 months

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Genocides are happening

And what did you do?

What will you tell your kids?

I talk about whiteness a lot on page, anyone who's been following me for awhile has seen my posts about it.

If you're one of them you've seen the vulnerable way white people have come forward about being assimilated in exchange for safety and privilege. About feeling empty.

How white people carry a dead weight in their stomachs about not fitting in anywhere, how they feel like they don't even fit in with other white people because there is No white culture, the only thing even close to it is White Supremacy. They have no shared values or customs. That white people try their best but its never enough because all whiteness teaches anybody at all is that they're never good enough.

It's all consumerism and individualism marked and made even more pointed by a total lack of community.

So the dead weight doubles as a pit of loneliness. And it's about being white. Something so core to your being you can't ignore it.

Have you seen those posts? Because I never forget them.

And now, given the context, do you think white people will ever find a way to belong in a diverse world by looking away when their armies commit genocide?

Do you really think you can build community by standing by and doing nothing when your neighbors scream for help?

A community is who claims you.

So if you want to start being claimed by someone other than white supremacists, I suggest you start acting like it.

Nobody on earth is buying the bullshit that the most protected and privileged citizens on earth are powerless to a handful of politicians.

How many Americans are there?

And you mean to tell me that we aren't getting anything accomplished? That even with the activists and organizers and journalists who eat/sleep/breathe Palestine and Sudan and Congo...we just aren't trying hard enough?

Cuz I think there just aren't enough people participating anymore.

I think the lot of people walking around saying they support human rights only support human rights in theory.

Not in practice.

So I need y'all to be very honest with yourselves right now.

Do you actually want to be liberated? Do you actually care about other people.

Cuz it's easy to say you do. People say things they don't mean all the time, but putting those words into action is how we know if you told the truth.

So if you don't want to be a white supremacist, if you're sick of the USA's emptiness, if you're an ally to indigenous people globally, if you consider yourself to be a "good" person on the right side of history: help us. Prove it. Show me.

Because 3 weeks ago I couldn't stop seeing posts about Palestine. Now I have to look for them.

And this is not the status quo. Dont let genocide become our collective status quo just because the racist and privileged among us are too "tired" to keep caring after 30 days.

If you want to join the global community instead of constantly feeling like an unwelcome outsider then ACT LIKE IT

I can't stress it enough.

You don't build community or "grow" or unlearn racism by turning a blind eye to genocide.

#whiteness #white Supremacy #manufactured consent

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icedmintteastuff · 4 months

Text

husband!wriothesley hcs

happy new year!! just making a husband!wriothesley for the new year, sorry for the wrong grammar :/ enjoy!!

warning: wrong grammar, ooc, slightly suggestive at the end.

you work at the court of fontaine, you are in charge in gathering information in investigation. you met wriothesley when clorinde mentioned you to him when they were investigating a case. you always claimed that the information came from the offender itself in every 'gossip' you tell her.

wriothesley then asked clorinde to invite you to the fortress for some tea, he knew the you work at the court of fontaine but he has never met you personally, even when he gets summoned for official matters.

the day of your visit came by he rizzed you with his tea asked for the information about the suspect(s) they're investigating. he found you funny and interesting whenever you're giving them information, since you're doing it like you're giving them the latest gossip that is going around, except you have the knowledge before the steambird did.

this routine kept going on with clorinde accompanying you to the fortress, clorinde noticed the way wriothesley looks at you as the time progresses, she then became overprotective of you space and privacy since the duke was getting a little bit too close to you.

clorinde then lowered her guard when you told her you developed feelings for the duke, she would help wriothesley every now and then in courting you, which he appreciates. he proposed to you on the same day you guys first met when both of you have a picnic under the warm sun.

you had a small wedding with your family and friends,and neuvillette being the wedding officiant and warning wriothesley to take care of you. later on, you would move in the fortress with wriothesley, however you have to go to the overworld for work, which wriothesley didn't mind, and you would return to the fortress at night with souvenirs for your husband and sigewinne.

there are times that you would roam around the fortress without your husband, and interacting with the prisoners, which you are not worried in the slightest bit. you know your husband watches you in the shadows and follows you around the fortress so that you can be safe.

husband!wriothesley loves the way you casually tell him other people's business as if you're just gossiping to him. plus, he sees this as a free information from the overworld.

"you know there's this guy who bragged about sleeping with a woman, but he robbed her when she was sleeping, he was bold enough to brag about it"

"if you're wondering why im getting a lot of letters lately, its my friend, they've been on and off with their relationship, i just told them to break up with their partner"

"remember the actress i told you about from before? yeah, she almost committed adultery because the guy she's currently going out was already married"

husband!wriothesley may not show affection to you publicly, but behind closed doors he immediately turns into a dog begging for head/chin scratches and belly rubs.

husband!wriothesley loves it whenever you sit on his lap, facing him, with your head on his shoulder, sleeping. there are times that he would fall asleep along with you since your slow breathing and soft snoring lulled him to sleep. if he's not asleep he would press kisses on your lips which he would chuckle whenever you scrunch your nose.

husband!wriothesley who thought about having kids with you, but decided not to have one yet since both of you are not ready for one. for now, you guys have sigewinne and the melusines.

husband!wriothesley who looks at you in disbelief after finding out that you help sigewinne and the melusines put stickers all over him and his belongings.

"you're my wife yet your betraying me like this??"

"sorry about that, you look good in glitter though" you giggled at him

"flattery will get you nowhere, dear" you chuckle, knowing he wasn't mad at you. not that he would get mad at you anyway

"aww, is my husband upset with me?" you coo, striding towards him "how will i ever make it up to him?" you put one arm behind his neck, with your free hand caressing his cheeks.

husband!wriothesley who secretly enjoys your mischievous side, even if you give him headaches with your shenanigans, he's still willing to clean up your mess.

"what did you do this time??" he asked you sternly to which you didn't respond, only looking away pouting and tapping the tip of your feet. the two guards behind you starts to sweat at your lack of response, afraid that you angered the duke.

your husband sighs and dismissed the two guards. your husband looks at you as the guards exit, "that's it. you're getting punished" he suddenly stride towards you and threw you on his shoulder. you let out a yelp and started to kick you feet.

you stopped kicking when you felt a smack on your ass, "behave yourself." "im sorry!!" "don't worry dear, i'll know it when i hear it"

#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #genshin wriothesley #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin imagines #wriothesley fanfic #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 28 days

Note

Hello i don’t know if your request are open or closed ignore me if it’s the case but can you make a Jason grace x reader when he know she is love with him and it’s reciprocated but she don’t want to make the move because Jason grace is a golden boy perfect etc.. and she is just normal thank you 🤩

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Oh, That Golden Light - Its Blinding Me

content: jason grace x unclaimed! reader fic warning: kinda angsty, ig??? sort of??? i dunno??? author's note: taking a break from the smau bc i miss writing lmao- also i feel so big brain for making the reader unclaimed for legit no reason. this is HEAVILY influenced by golden by harry styles. im not like a huge mega fan but satellite did things to me bc i thought of my father while listening to it and i had to pull over i was crying so hard in my car oop- anyways, i hope yall enjoy me coming out of my writing disappearance frfr WERE BACK BABYYYYYYYY

jason grace was like something out of some shiny hollywood movie. perfect. flawless. stunning. blinding.

it was hard not to fall in love with zeus' golden boy. he was just so sweet and caring to every person he met. you wouldn't even know this boy was a harden solider from the way he fawned over trampled patches of grass or new campers. he was just that kind of person, the one who drew people in with his comforting aura.

and you were just another victim of jason grace's warm vibes.

you, one of the few campers who continued to break percy's promise with the gods. 'claim them by thirteen,' he'd said and they agreed, but apparently your name must have been in the fine print. every summer and winter solstice, your name was brought up as a betrayal of their promise and every summer and winter solstice it was brushed under the rug. you tried to not let it affected, that your parent was so ashamed of you that they were willing to risk the wrath of percy jackson to avoid claiming you. but whatever, it's cool, it's totally fine, and not something you think about late at night.

but it did affect you. your self worth was in the dumps, you'd never felt so undesirable in your entire life. which is why you left your dreams of being jason's girlfriend just that; dreams. he'd find some other girl, some girl who was wanted, and you'd just have to live with that. but, boy, he didn't make it easy.

"good morning, yn. sleep well?" he asked, just like every morning, a book under his arm and his hair still fluffed from his pillows as he jogged to catch up with you. breakfast had been called and, just like every morning, jason made sure to walk with you and grab his breakfast with you.

"gave up my bed to little jamie here last night. those floorboards aren't too bad though," you replied easily, distracting yourself by ruffling jamie's spikey ginger hair. he was one of the new campers, still unclaimed like you, but you were sure that was bound to change soon as he was twleve. you glanced up and noticed jason's frown but pretended like you didnt.

"yn-"

"do you hear that? i think connor needs me. ill see you around, grace," you cut off what would surely be words of concern, scampering off towards connor, who definitely didn't call for you. being with jason was hard, it burned to be within feet of that boy. he was just so dazzling and bright and sometimes you just couldn't do it. you couldn't stand to block his light. to tarnish it in the way only you could.

"you try archery? maybe you're an apollo kid?" travis offered as you guys walked back from breakfast, but he knew the answer. you gave him a pointed look and he shrugged with a roll of his eyes.

"or maybe im not even an halfblood. maybe someone screwed up. maybe im destined to be unwanted, to rot away inside cabin eleven until i look like the oracle," you rambled, only stopping to take a calming breath.

"i can think of someone who wants you," connor hummed from you other side, a cheeky smile and sly look shared between the boys who could be twins but weren't. you squinted at both of them, your head darting around like you were watching an intense tennis match.

"what are you two even yapping on about?" you hissed and they just continued to smirk in the way only they could.

"we're just suggesting that a certain golden boy has his eyes on you. his heart eyes," travis gushed, wiggling his fingers at you as connor pretended to swoon. you scoffed and shoved the two away, hoping the distance would blur their vision of your growing blush.

"you two tease too much. cruel boys is what you are," you huffed and continued to march away from their laughing forms, clear evidence that they had seen your blush.

you spent your day the way you always spent your days at camp half blood; trying everything in hopes of getting recognized, in hopes of impressing your parent enough for them to dangle a glowing light over your head, to claim you as their child. you covered yourself with soot inside the forges with leo but all you ever managed to produce was a broken spring that even had leo wincing in shame as he plucked it from your hands and threw it away. you tried every weapon in the arena, letting clarisee pummel you with swords, spears, and shield alike. you even tried hanging out with nico and percy, trying to dig up bones and talk to horses but it never worked. none of it ever worked. which is how you ended up at the dock, your legs crossed under you and your fist shoved into your cheek to hold your head up. apollo's sun was starting to set, coating the whole of camp in a golden hue that had you thinking of one boy who was comparable to the color.

"go away, travvy. im not hungry," you muttered as you heard footsteps approached, picking up another rock and plopping it into the lake, watching the naiads follow it down before bringing it back up to you.

"not travis," a familar voice mused as he stopped behind you, causing your spine to straighten and you to look over your shoulder with a mildly panicked look, being met with the very golden boy who invaded your mind.

"oh, hey, jason," you replied, returning your attention to the naiads as jason sat down next you, leaning back against one of the poles as he watched you. you stiffened under his view, feeling it to be more interrogating than anything. you went to open your mouth and run away with lies about needing to make your bed but jason beat you to it.

"you look so pretty in this light."

"huh?" you asked, stupidly, turning to look at him with what surely was a dumb look on your face. jason's lips just continued to twitched upwards, the setting sun's light getting caught on his scar. you had the fading thoughts that jason might have seen it as an imperfection, which would have made you laugh; the golden boy, flawed? no, surely not.

"i said; you look beautiful in this light. just gorgeous," he continued, leaving you gaping like a fish before swallowing down your embarrassment as you hung your head.

"look, if the stolls put you up to this for some stupid prank, it's okay-"

"nope. ever hear of free will, yn?" jason mused, his eyes unwillingly drifting from you towards the golden setting sun. your eyes stayed on him, brows furrowed as you tried to figure out his angle.

"jason," you said, not entirely sure what you wanted to say after you drew his attention back to you. his blue eyes instantly darted back to you, gleaming with a fondness that you've seen in the way percy looks at annabeth, the way nico looks at will, and the way charles used to look at silena. with a love that you never thought would be directed towards you. let alone from him.

"yn," he teased back with a bright smile, shifting to lean closer to you. you wanted to lean away, give him space to think over his decisions but your gut wouldn't let you, feeling his breath fan across your redden cheeks.

"what are you doing?" you whispered out, not needing to speak louder due to the closeness.

"something i should have done a long time ago. im confessing to a girl that i like her, like, a lot. im telling this pretty girl that i know she's scared, but i can't get her out of my mind," jason rambled and out of the corner of your eye, you could his hand reach out before landing against your bicep. it then ran upwards, slowly gliding over your skin towards your neck and face.

"jason. we- we can't. youre- gods, youre so golden and perfect and youre just- youre too bright for me. we can't," you breathed out, rapidly, but unable to lean away from his warm touch. his hand which was now cupping your cheek while his other landed somewhere near your hip.

"yn, youre the perfect girl for me. utter perfection. and i'll spend the rest of my life ensuring that you know that. you'll never go another day going unwanted with me, i swear on my life," jason replied, firmly, the roman praetor tone strong in his voice. and, not wanting to give you time to argue, jason pulled your lips to his.

and you'd be lying if you said you didn't lean in a little too.

kissing jason grace was like something out of some shiny hollywood movie. perfect. flawless. stunning. dazzling.

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #hoo #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo fandom #jason grace #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x reader

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