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ceilidho · 5 months

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prompt: reader is a large animal vet making a house call to a certain ex-SAS member's ranch.

It’s the first time you’ve been called out to this ranch.

You’ve been to some others in the surrounding area—just last week you stopped by a ranch just half an hour away—but never this one. It’s far out of the way, almost tough to find—you miss the turnoff twice, each time forced to turn back around and squint to find the poorly marked dirt road leading to the ranch. Your shoulders only unclench when the ranch house finally crests over the horizon and you spot the horses milling around in the fenced-off enclosure.

They must have had an in-house vet prior to calling you out. None of your colleagues remember ever visiting and the ranch is big enough to necessitate one. It sprawls across the landscape, acres upon acres. The kind of ranch that deals in thoroughbreds, horses that go on to graded stakes races. In the pen already, you can pick out Thoroughbreds and American Warmblood, the distinctive spotting of an Appaloosa, even a couple Hanoverians.

There are men working around the ranch outside of the main enclosure that you park just a dozen or so yards away from, but something about the man standing by his lonesome with the horses makes you pause.

A head taller than the rest, and built like a redwood. Bandana affixed around the lower half of his face, almost bandit-like. You shake those thoughts out of your head. You’re not here to pass judgement on people; you’re here for the horses. Whatever scars mar his face are hardly your concern (still, rugged, you think, a bit breathless even sitting in the front seat of your truck).

When he turns in your direction, eyes locked on your truck and then locked on you when you pop into the back to grab your bag, your back straightens. Imperceptibly, yet still. Compelled to measure up somehow, to whatever standard he expects.

He strikes you as the man in charge. “Mister Riley?” you call out, shielding your eyes from the sun.

He beckons you over with a gloved hand. Even from the distance, he leaves you unsure of yourself, quick to stumble when his stare starts to burn.

“Doc,” Riley greets you when you’re close enough, and you fight back a shiver. His voice rumbles like thunder, like hooves pounding into the freshly tamped earth, into the dirt.

“You called about a pregnant mare,” you remind him.

The bag in front of your legs puts a bit of distance between the two of you, a needed buffer. Up close, he towers like sequoia, in fact, sleeves rolled up past his forearms, old tattoos on his left arm faded like beaten leather. He holds out a hand though, forcing you to take a step forward out of politeness and shake it. Your lips tighten at the touch of his skin. It’s weathered too, coarse palms and fingertips; there’s dirt caked around his nail beds, the kind that never comes out, the world’s indelible mark on the skin.

He stares at you for a moment without speaking. There’s no helping the way you squirm under his gaze.

“The horse,” you remind him, cheeks hot.

“She’s in the stables; I’ll bring ya to her.”

You struggle to keep up with him, bag bumping against your leg as you haul ass after him. Big as he is, he moves quickly, fast on his feet—used to quick beasts, you know, probably used to anticipating their movements, always one step ahead. Your last shred of decency keeps you from staring at his ass the entire walk to the stables.

Her coat is a rich coal colour, mane sun-bleached. Inky eyes peer back at you when Riley lets you into her stall. It’s cooler inside somehow, out of the inescapable glare of the sun; the sweat on the back of your neck stays wet under Riley’s eyes though, nervous rather than weather-born.

She’s gorgeous though, the mare. Pretty as can be. Heavily pregnant too, you can see. Obviously well taken care of too, still decently muscled like she’s still been taken for walks and rides during her pregnancy.

“She’s too far along now to ride,” he tells you when you remark on that, his voice carrying in the confined space. He doesn’t raise his voice, but it makes you perk up again, at attention, head whipping over your shoulder to look at him.

“I can tell. A little over two months ‘till she delivers,” you say with a nod, looking down at the chart you have on her. “I can come back for her last deworming before she foals, if you want.”

He grunts, doesn’t answer. You take it as an affirmative.

It doesn’t take you long to run through her check-up. A docile girl, you coo when she lets you touch her without any sign of aggression, sweet-tempered thing. It’s second nature after all, at this point in your life.

Still, you find yourself watching Riley out of the corner of your eye, careful under his watchful gaze. Not that you usually aren’t, but still. Your movements feel intentional, precise.

When he walks you out, you get a bit bolder in the sunlight. Freer to pester him with questions.

“Did your last vet retire or something?” you ask, fishing for information. It’s probably none of your business, but you find yourself curious anyway. There are a few different vet practices operating in the area, so it’s always helpful to know who’s going to your competitors.

He shakes his head. “Friend of mine went to school for this—been with me as long as I’ve had the ranch. He got hitched a couple weeks ago though.”

“Moving away?” you guess.

“Opening up a practice,” he corrects, making you frown. That’s worse, at least for you. “On his honeymoon this month though, so he gave me your name.”

“My boss’ name, you mean.”

“That’s right,” he says, and you realize that he’s walked you all the way to your car, half-pinning you to the door of your truck. Just close enough that a new layer of sweat breaks out on the back of your neck. You have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. “Don’t know if I caught yours, little filly.”

Now that makes you stutter over your name, confidence finally failing you. When he hums like he’s caught your name in his head now, mapped it to you with his sharp eyes, you feel yourself swallow reflexively.

“Not like you’ll need it for long,” you tease, trying to gain back some semblance of control. “Just until your friend gets back and sets up his practice, at least.”

“Not sure about that. Might find some use for you yet,” Riley says, close enough now that you can tell he smells of hay and silage, peppery when you breathe in too heavily.

And you breathe too heavily. Hard not to when he crowds you up against the truck, hand laying flat on the roof, boxing you in. You wonder if any of the ranch hands are looking over at the two of you, curious.

“What do you mean?” you ask, head empty. Mouth dry enough now that it hurts a bit to swallow.

His brown eyes glint in the sun. Honey gold under the light. “I can think of a few reasons to keep you around.”

#i dont know if brits have ranches so imagine he moved to the states or something id ont CARE #ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost/reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2

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astraystayyh · 10 months

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Myth

Bang Chan x reader. highly recommend listening to Myth by Beach House while reading! <3

Skimming across the edge of being friends and something more with Chan is a dangerous game. Even more so when you're both sharing the same bed.

(@inniejeonginnie cameo because she's innie's gf!)

skz song series masterlist

"The heater won't work," Seungmin announces to the group, and you all stare at each other blankly.

This was Seungmin's family cabinet. It was a tradition for you all to go there on your winter break- Seungmin, Jeongin and their partners, and then you and Chan. There were only three bedrooms along with the living room- that's where Chan was supposed to sleep. But the heater isn't working. He'll surely freeze in there all by himself.

"He can stay in my room, it's okay," you smile slightly, turning around to gauge Chan's reaction. He smiles back, but his hand is curled into a tight fist. He unclenches it once he spots you staring.

"Then that's settled! See you tomorrow!" Jeongin rapidly exclaims, happy at the prospect of not having to sleep next to Chan. He pulls his girlfriend Anya by the hand, biding you all goodnight.

One by one they all go upstairs, until it's only you and Chan left in there. Suddenly, the oxygen is sucked out of the room; and you feel as if you're standing in a field doused with gasoline, where a single flame teeters on the edge of igniting- threatening to set you both aflame.

"You coming?" you ask and he nods wordlessly. You walk ahead first, and Chan places his hand on your lower back. He drops it once you reach the top of the stairs, but the ghost of his touch lingers in there, his fingertips now seared into your spine.

The light is warm in your room, curtsey of the chandelier hanging from the wall. Its yellow glow reflects on Chan's honeyed skin, and you can't seem to take your eyes off of him as he settles on the edge of your bed.

"I'll go change and then you can go to the bathroom too," you say quietly, and he simply nods. He hasn't spoken once since you invited him in. It's driving you insane. Did he not want this? Were you reading all the signs wrong?

You come out of the bathroom; your hair put away in a braid to keep it out of your face. You can feel Chan’s burning gaze on the curve of your exposed neck, before he goes in after you without a word.

You climb into the bed, your back flush against the headboard. You watch silently as Chan comes out his turn. He's wearing a simple black t-shirt and loose shorts. Suddenly, you are hit by the domesticity of it all. You and Chan in your pajamas, sharing the same bed. Is this how it would be if you started dating? Waiting for him to get changed, to come onto the bed with you? Maybe you'd brush your teeth together, maybe he'd be the one braiding your hair.

"Good night," he whispers, his voice hoarse as he turns the light off.

"Good night," you say just as quietly, palpable tension oozing from the both of you.

You both lay down, heads facing the ceiling. The bed is big, big enough for you both to never touch each other throughout the night. And yet, you can feel the warmth radiating from his body, reaching your own in waves. He's so close and yet he feels so far away.

You can't sleep, you know you won't. Not when all you are thinking about is the man next to you. You don't know what changed; if you were in this bed one year ago, you'd both be cracking jokes. There would be no tense silence surrounding you, threatening to suffocate you under its weight.

But that would be a year ago. Things are different now between the two of you. You can't pinpoint when exactly, but suddenly, Chan's eyes on you were scorching, setting your body ablaze. Suddenly, each time your hand brushed against his, you felt butterflies roaming through your stomach, violently as if fighting for a way to come out and meet the man who's making you feel this way.

If you built yourself a myth, you'd know just what to give

Chan was abruptly everywhere. He was there, opening doors for you, and he was there wiping your tears away. He was there kissing your forehead gently and smiling so wildly at your unfunny jokes. Your eyes searched for his in every room, and you always found him looking back, always.

And he was there, when you were both tipsy over some cheap wine, giggling in the middle of an empty playground at midnight. He was there, caressing your cheeks and painting them pink, as if his fingers were paintbrushes and your face a canvas. And he was there, leaning forward and brushing his lips against yours, before moving them away.

What comes after this momentary bliss?

You've never spoken about that day, and here you are now, lying on the same bed, burning up.

"Are you asleep?" he asks after a while, turning around to look at you.

"No," you reply, shifting in your place to face him as well. "Are you cold?" you ask quietly.

"No. Never around you," he confesses breathlessly, making your heart skip a beat.

The consequence of what you do to me

He leans closer to you, his hand shaking as it raises up to rest on top of your cheek. You exhale a rugged breath, heart beating wildly in your chest.

"What are you doing?" you ask, and he shushes you slightly, his thumb trailing across your lower lip in an agonizing manner.

"Tell me this is real, that you feel it too," he pleads, eyes begging looking into yours. He leans even closer to you, until your noses brush against one another.

"Tell me I'm not imagining it, whatever this is. Help me to name it," he says as he places your hand on top of his heart. It's hammering in there too.

Help me to name it

You tentatively raise your free hand, tracing over his pretty features, and he closes his eyes, exhaling softly at your touch.

"You drive me insane Chan," you whisper, "Why didn't you kiss me that night?"

"I thought you didn't want me to."

You shake your head, "I wanted you to."

Help me to name it

"Really?" he smiles tentatively, and you nod, "Really."

He's cautious as his hand slides down the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Your hand finds his hair, playing with its soft brown locks.

Help me to name it

"You want me?"

"I want you."

"What are we?" he asks, as his lips brush against yours once again.

"We can name it tomorrow."

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seonghwaddict · 9 months

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one more minute — choi san

in which you indulge in some midnight snacks and kisses in the kitchen.

bf!choi san x fem!reader. genre. established relationship. fluff. warnings. a little, tiny make out sesh but nothing else. wc. 0.6k.

lilo's notes. i’m a little sick so updates on both the event and nsn will be a bit slow. but anyways, here’s a little san drabble i wrote at 3 am :>

listening to. rises the moon, liana flores.

masterlist.

your eyes fluttered open to be met with darkness, the first thing you noticed was the arm draped around your waist. turning your head to look behind you, you caught sight of your dear boyfriend, san, sleeping soundly, his face lit by the dim moonlight seeping in through the gaps in the curtains.

silent snores left his mouth and you smiled, wondering how on earth you were lucky enough to call this perfect man yours. but the silent moment of admiring him was ruined when your stomach grumbled quietly, reminding you what you woke up for. after taking one last look at san and pressing a light kiss to his forehead, you wiggled yourself out of his grip without waking him up and walked down to the kitchen for some food.

you grabbed a paper plate and put a slice of pizza from the night before on it, placing it in the microwave. then you grabbed a mug, filled it with water and set it next to the paper plate before closing the microwave's door, pressing some buttons and starting it up.

a familiar arm wrapped around your waist from the back as san’s other arm brushed your hair away from your neck, nuzzling his face into it as he dropped the hand to wrap it around your waist as well. he placed gentle pecks on your neck and shoulder, nudging the fabric of your neckline to the side to access as much of your soft skin as possible.

you chuckled and turned your face to the side, your eyes meeting his soft brown ones. without averting your eyes, you turned in his grip and wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug. he smelled faintly of peppermint and the shampoo you keep in your bathroom.

you pulled away from each other and he moved his fingertips under your shirt, his knuckles brushing against your sides. his touch sent sparks and goosebumps travelling through your whole body, a feeling you were well acquainted with.

“i love you," he whispered, lips brushing against yours.

you smiled, muttering a heartfelt, "i love you, too."

he leaned his face in and your lips connected in a kiss, moving in a slow and synchronised rhythm, lips slotting together like perfect puzzle pieces. instinctively, your hands travelled up and tangled themselves in his already messy chestnut locks of hair. his grip on your waist tightened, trying to close every remaining millimetre of space between your bodies.

he bit down on your bottom lip, his hands simultaneously gliding up and down your waist, fingertips brushing just beneath your breasts before dropping to your hips and squeezing twice. knowing what that meant with him, you jumped up and warped your legs around his torso, his firm hands supporting you under your thighs. as if you had done this multiple times before—which you have—he turned and set you on the empty counter behind him, standing between your legs.

you continued, your kisses turning desperate and bruising. but before he could take it any further, the microwave's timer rang and you pulled away with a mischievous smile and flushed cheeks. your boyfriend groaned as you inched your way around him and got off the counter to grab your food.

"baby," he whined, drawing out the last syllable, "just… one more minute?"

"i don't want my food to get cold," you laughed and took a bite of the pizza, a playful pout on your lips. "you’re very needy when you're tired."

"at least give me some of the pizza?"

you considered it for a moment before turning and walking to the living room with a broad grin. "i’m not your mom, you can get it yourself, love," you called over her shoulder, resisting the urge to giggly at his dumbfounded expression.

networks. @cromernet @blankjournal

taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu

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floralcyanide · 9 months

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𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 - 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐞

jonathan crane x f!reader

“I broke apart my insides, I’ve got no soul to sell. The only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself.” “I wanna fuck you like an animal, I wanna feel you from the inside." "You can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything.”

warnings: smut, rough sex, choking, first time, penetrative sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spitting, spitballing, cum eating, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), face fucking/ deepthroating, nipple play, orgasm denial, porn with some plot, pwp, wow there's a lot here lol

word count: 2316

authors note: if Dr. Jonathan Crane has a million fans, then I'm one of them. if Dr. Jonathan Crane has one fan, then I'm THAT ONE. if Dr. Jonathan Crane has no fans, that means I'm dead. anyway, I love this man and his character so much, so I had to be feral about him. he's so pretty, and for what??? also Closer by NIN is soooo Jonathan-coded. I don't make the rules. (not beta read, we die like men here)

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

Six months have passed, and you’ve yet to have any form of sex with your boyfriend, Dr. Jonathan Crane. You get that he’s busy most of the time and doesn’t really hold sex to a high standard like most men do. But god, you wanted him to have your way with you already. Jonathan looks like he was hand sculpted by the gods themselves with his piercing blue eyes, strong jawline, and perfect lips. You’d do anything to have his stunning face between your legs. And you seriously mean anything at this point. Both of you trust each other with your lives. Jonathan has taken a while to open up to you, and the last thing he’s yet to show you about himself is his sexuality.

For the last week, every time you so much as kiss Jonathan, you get irrevocably turned on. Sometimes he’ll give into you and let his tongue explore your mouth, but then he’ll pull away with a satisfied smirk. It’s almost as if he teases you on purpose. But then again, you doubt Jonathan would do it for this long, purposely depriving you of physical affection. But the things he does, don’t surprise you anymore. He could very well be torturing you without you realizing it.

Everything changes when you stay at Jonathan’s apartment one night. You take a shower and put on your favorite pair of matching lace underwear and a shirt you stole from Jonathan’s dresser the first time you came over. You have no makeup on, you’ve just finished brushing your teeth for bed, and you haven’t put on any pants as of yet. The hem of the shirt is tucked into your underwear unbeknownst to you. So, when Jonathan walks into his bedroom, he sees you standing in the doorway of the en-suite bathroom with his old white t-shirt inside your bright red underwear. You barely notice his eyes turn three shades darker as you go to rinse your mouth.

Jonathan comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you’re ducked into the sink, spitting out the remainder of your toothpaste. He presses himself against your ass when it sticks out as you bend over. You don’t pay much attention to Jonathan and him being close to you. He was surprisingly clingy. But when you stand up straight and look at him behind you in the mirror’s reflection, you notice his features are much darker than usual.

“Are you-“ You begin to ask if Jonathan is okay, but before you can finish your sentence, his mouth attaches itself to your neck.

With his hands splayed across your stomach underneath your- his shirt, he pulls your hair away from your shoulder. Jonathan then makes eye contact with you in the mirror as his hands travel up your abdomen to your breasts. He gives them a harsh squeeze as he bites down into the skin between your neck and shoulder. You hiss at the feeling of Jonathan being so close to you, touching you like this. You wonder what’s gotten into him but push that thought aside when his fingertips delve past the lace covering your nipples. You gasp as Jonathan circles one with his index finger, licking up your neck and jaw slowly until he reaches the side of your face.

“You look irresistible,” Jonathan breathes into your ear, nibbling at the lobe.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” you ask, biting your lip in anticipation.

Jonathan picks up and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you over to his bed, where he all but gently throws you onto it. Before you can react, Jonathan is on top of you, ripping your underwear clean off your legs.

“Let me take care of you, darling,” Jonathan coos, pushing the shirt up and over your head before unclasping your bra next.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” you sigh, tugging at his white button-up that he’s yet to change out of.

“I think I have an idea of how long. Show me how bad you want it,” Jonathan says, moving his hands off of you completely.

The urge to rip the man in front of you apart bubbles up in your lower stomach, and you sit on your knees in front of Jonathan. You rip his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere in the room. You leave open-mouthed kisses on his chest as he slides his fingers through your hair, gripping it harshly as he pulls your head back so you can look at him. You stare at him unwaveringly; your eyes half-lidded with growing lust. After studying the smirk on your face, Jonathan lets go of you, and you immediately go for the button and zipper of his trousers. Unbuckling his belt, you yank it out of the belt loops and toss it on the floor. You pull his pants down his hips far enough for you to get where you want. Pulling Jonathan’s cock out, you marvel at it momentarily before taking his head into your warm mouth. There was no way you’d be able to take all of him without gagging, but you’re going to try anyway. You’ve waited too long for this.

“Fuck,” Jonathan keens as you swivel your tongue around him, gathering his precum.

He realizes he’s definitely waited too long for this.

But he has been nervous about being vulnerable around you. He actually cares about you, believe it or not. And doesn’t want to hurt you- not severely, anyway. Only as much as you’ll let him.

Before Jonathan can tell you to hurry up and take his cock, you slam your nose into his pelvis, letting his tip hit the back of your throat. He lets out the dirtiest moan you’ve ever heard, sending heat straight to your bare core. You’re impossibly wet, rubbing your thighs together as you bob your head along Jonathan’s length with fervor. You let him thrust into your mouth as you helplessly gag around him, spit dribbling down your chin as tears fall from your eyes. Jonathan face fucks you, and you simply take it, enjoying every second of his perfect cock in your mouth. Your fingernails dig into his hips, causing him to bite his lip as he looks down at you. You peek up at him through your eyelashes, pulling him out of your mouth and flicking your tongue on his head. Suddenly, your face is ripped away from his body.

“Lay back on the bed like a good girl for me,” Jonathan growls, your hair in a vice grip in his hand once again.

You quickly crawl to the pillows, lying down as Jonathan discards the rest of his clothing, completely naked and revealed to you at last. You scan his body, freckles dotting the places his clothing hides. They’re not just dusted along his cheeks but his shoulders too. His back is also covered in constellation-like freckles. Jonathan tries not to notice you studying him, but he can’t help but drink in your appearance too. How your waist and hips make the perfect shape, how your breasts are perked up from your arousal, and how your skin looks in the room's lighting. Jonathan looks perfect to you, and you look flawless to him.

“Beautiful,” Jonathan sighs, kissing your ankle and up your calf until he meets your thigh.

Your breath hitches as his face lingers at your pussy, right where you need him, but then he goes to your other thigh and sucks a mark into your skin there. You throw your legs over his shoulders, and he tilts his head to the side, looking at you with that sassy yet emotionless look of his.

“Impatient, are we?” Jonathan asks, hovering his lips right over you as his breath hits the sensitive, wet skin.

“Very,” you drawl, glaring at him playfully, “I’ve waited six months for you to eat me out, you know.”

“I’m aware,” Jonathan says, his eyes carefully taking in your anatomy, “I want to make it well worth it, dear.”

You reach down and rake your fingers through his hair, pushing his head closer to you. Jonathan wordlessly attacks your folds, licking intense stripes up and down your slit. He’ll circle your clit with the tip of his tongue before flicking it back and forth on the bundle of nerves, causing you to entangle your fingers deeper into his hair. Jonathan then takes both hands and spreads you open, flattening his tongue and shaking his head vigorously as he laps at you like a thirsting man.

“Oh fuck,” you moan, thrusting into his face.

Jonathan sneaks a finger into your entrance, curling it against the spongy spot he finds inside you. He strokes it teasingly to the same rhythm of his tongue against your clit. You clamp your thighs against the sides of Jonathan’s head, essentially trapping him. He slips another finger into you, slamming them in and out of you as the sound of your arousal bounces off the walls.

“That feel good, baby?” Jonathan hums, his mouth pulling away from you despite your thighs, his darkened blue eyes boring into yours.

“Mhmm,” you nod, rocking your hips onto his fingers as he adds a third, stretching you out.

“That’s right, fuck yourself on my fingers,” Jonathan gasps, thrusting them faster and harder into you as his thumb finds your bundle of nerves, pressing into it.

You’re so close that you can already feel the knot in your stomach about to come undone. Your hand finds Jonathan’s cheek, caressing it as his eyes meet yours again. You arch your back close to your peak. But then, Jonathan pulls his fingers from you, tucking them into his mouth as you glare at him. He just chuckles darkly at you before grabbing you by the throat.

“Open your mouth,” he demands.

You obey, Jonathan’s grip on your neck dizzying you. He gathers your slick and his spit in his mouth before spitting it into yours, forcing your mouth closed.

“Now swallow like a good girl,” Jonathan says, holding his hand around your throat once more.

You taste yourself on your tongue, swallowing the spit as you were told.

Jonathan’s hand travels to your face as his thumb pulls your mouth open so he can thoroughly inspect it, “Perfect.”

He sits up, spreading your legs further open so he can line himself up with your begging entrance. Gathering some of the wetness there, Jonathan pushes himself into you slowly. Your hand flies to his shoulder blades, your nails digging into his pale skin. Finally, Jonathan fills you up completely, his hips flush against yours. You throw your head back at the feeling of fullness, the sting of the stretch turning into pleasure.

“God, Jonathan,” you move your hips a little, “You feel amazing.”

“You’re so tight it’s almost ridiculous,” Jonathan dryly jokes, his hands finding purchase on your hips as he pulls all the way out, then slams back into you.

“Fuck,” you seethe, and one of Jonathan’s hands find their way back to your throat.

He repeats his motion, pulling his hips back then snapping them forward again, gaining a steady pace. You’re a moaning mess as he quickens his rhythm. Jonathan’s face is leant down to your ear as he grunts into it. The headboard begins to slam into the wall behind you, but neither of you care about the dent it’ll probably leave in the drywall.

“Jonathan,” you drawl out in a high pitched cry, his cock hitting your cervix just right.

“I shouldn’t have waited so long to destroy you like this,” Jonathan says in between his groans, “I love seeing you fall apart underneath me.”

Your eyes screw shut, rolling into the back of your head as he fucks you hard and fast, sure enough to leave you sore tomorrow. The sound and smell of sex fills the room as sweat beads on your forehead. You’re moving your hips at the same time as Jonathan, matching his quick and harsh thrusts. He’s hitting every spot within you just right, the shaft of his cock rubbing your clit perfectly every time he pushes it into you. You start seeing stars behind your eyes from the pressure his fingers are putting on your throat and the building orgasm in your stomach.

“God, I wanna cum,” you scream, “Please make me cum,” you’re nearly begging incoherently now.

“Fuck, that’s right, beg me. Show me how long you’ve wanted me to fuck your witty little brains out,” Jonathan says behind gritted teeth, his own orgasm peeking over the horizon.

You start babbling and repeating, “Please,” like a mantra until Jonathan hits a spot within you that causes the stars behind your eyes to explode with white light. You feel yourself gush around him as his thrusts become sloppy, your clenching sending him over the edge. Jonathan spills into you as you both ride out your orgasms, whispering each other’s names weakly.

Jonathan runs a hand over his hair, sitting back as he catches his breath and pulls himself out of you. Your chest heaves as you feel the mixture of your cum and Jonathan’s cum seep from you.

“That was amazing,” you sigh, melting into the mattress.

Jonathan lays down next to you, pulling you into his chest, “We can clean up later. For now, just rest a moment.”

After a brief moment of silence, you finally ask the begging question.

“Why did you wait so long?”

“I was nervous,” Jonathan confesses, “I haven’t let anyone in, in a long time. And I’ve finally let you in enough for you to experience this part of me.”

“I see,” you say, curling your arms around his that are crossed over your breasts.

“Was the wait worth it?” Jonathan asks, burying his face into your neck.

“I think one more round will make it even.”

taglist:

@baizzhu @aporiasposts @hjmalmed @queenshelby @amanda08319 @naty-1001 @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane smut #cillian murphy x reader smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #batman begins #scarecrow #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow smut #scarecrow x reader smut #oppenheimer #oppenheimer 2023 #floralcyanide writes

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lemon-muncher · 4 months

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There was a request for this but I'm an idiot and deleted it on accident. HOWEVER! I remember the gist of it and created this! If you want a part two, lmk!

Satoru Gojo x Male Reader

‘You have four new messages.’

“Y/N~ When are you coming home! God- ugh! Need you to come home now! Please I ~FuCk~ I’ll be good!”

The message from your boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, plays out into your parked car as you sit in your drive way. A soft smirk grows on your face as his whines makes the now large bulge in your pants grows. “Can’t even go a few hours without acting like a needy slut.” You mumble to yourself as you step out of your car and start walking to your front door. Subconsciously, you can feel the sexual tension through the door, your mind wondering about all sorts of lewd acts Satoru could be in. Quickly, as to not keep yourself or your lover from waiting any longer, you unlock the door, stepping inside to your warm home.

“Satoru, I’m home!” You called out, something that you’ve made a habit of doing ever since you and Satoru started living together. The apartment was surprisingly quiet, especially considering how noisy Satoru was over the phone. “’Toru? You here?” You called out again, walking slowly throughout the space. After not hearing a word from him, you started to check each room, opening the door, and looking around in the room before closing it. Each room you check leads up to your shared bedroom, knowing Satoru was most likely within it. Finally, after taking your sweet time walking up to the closed bedroom door, you open it, peaking inside as your heart pounds against your chest.

Just as you assumed, there was Satoru Gojo, his pretty blue eyes peering up to meet your own. You couldn’t help but let your smirk grow at the sight infront of you. There he was, the greatest Jujustu Sorcerer known to man, humping your pillow like a poor dog in heat. “You’re back!” A low hum escapes your throat at the sight in front of you. "You tried calling me while I was at work, Satoru..." Your sultry voice sends shivers down his spine. The white haired man looks at you as you cross your arms, wanting an explanation.

"I wanna cum!" Satoru states, getting straight to the point, to your surprise. "Needed you to get home so I could have permission to cum..." He squeals slightly, reminding you of the vibrating butt plug you put in him before you left. And you can't help but feel a little proud, since any other time, Satoru would do as he pleased and wait for the punishment for it later. "You wanted my permission? That's new~ Finally deciding to be a good boy for me? "You talk softly as you walk up to the other man, placing a hand on his cheek. Instinctively, Satoru leans into you touch, his lips parting as a sigh of, what you can only guess is relief, escapes them. "Please..."

Those pretty blue eyes... if it wasn't for those eyes, you'd probably let your lover beg a little more. However, every man has his limit, and that last gaze sent you over the edge. I mean, who could sit there and say no to something as cute as a begging Satoru Gojo, all vulnerable and trembling for your cock. With a smile, you kiss Satoru's cheek and start to strip from your work clothes. "Since you decided to behave and wait for permission, I guess I could let you indulge for a little bit." With only your boxers on, you sit on your shared bed, one of your hands snaking around the other man's waist. Slowly, your fingers trace down Satoru's spine, stopping as your fingertips reach the cold metal of the butt plug in him.

He looks over at you, pleading eyes subconsciously asking you not to tease. "You know, my coworkers could have heard your messages, Satoru... I'm quite lucky I had my earbuds in at the time..." You speak with a sadistic grin on your face. You slowly push against the vibrating metal plug, pulling a yelp from the other man. His hands grip the sheets beneath him. "I- I'm sorry!" Using two of your fingers, you slowly pull the plug out of your lover, a whine leaving the white haired male's mouth. "I highly doubt that, but it's okay... just gave me an excuse to come home early." You grab Satoru's jaw, making him look at you through tear filled lashes.

"Had to take a sick day to deal with you... I suggest you get to work and make it worth my while!"

#dom reader #sub character #dom male reader #sub jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sub gojo satoru #sub gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x male reader

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lanadelnegan · 7 months

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Crush - Part 2

Gym Teacher Negan x Female Reader

read part one here

Summary: Coach Negan finds you smoking and decides to punish you.

Warnings: smut, 18+, nsfw, extreme sexual tension, smoking, choking, rough face-fucking, negan degrading you, praising you and calling you "good girl"

final part coming soon!

The majority of your final week of high school has been spent replaying the imagine of your teacher fisting his cock in his hand while moaning your name.

Your feelings are still slightly hurt from the comment he made before you hurried out of his office that day, but you've had a few days to recover from it. You've found that smoking cigarettes helps calm you down, so you find a way to sneak off a couple times during your school day to light one up.

You lean your head against the brick wall outside of the gym as you blow a trail of smoke from your mouth, daydreaming of your new favorite memory. You'll be late to P.E. again, but what's new.

You've dodged Negan as much as possible the last two days, avoiding any possibility of him bringing up the awkward moment of you walking in on him. As far as he knows, you've forgotten all about it. Although that couldn't be further from the truth.. it's all you think about actually. Especially at night in bed when you touch yourself.

You feel an ache between your legs as you stand with your back against the cold brick wall. You have to physically restrain from touching yourself right there until the sound of the gym doors swing open, grabbing your attention.

When you turn your head, Negan's eyes are on you as he saunters towards you. You secretively hold the cigarette down by your side, not wanting to draw his attention to it.

"Being late is one thing. But smoking on school property? Have you lost your damn mind?"

"You've done worse." You say, blowing the puff of smoke you were holding in your mouth directly on his face. He grins sarcastically, placing his right hand above your head on the wall.

"Such a smart ass little mouth."

Your gaze drops to his lips when he speaks, and the smell of his minty breath makes your knees weak. His grin widens knowingly at the sight of you staring at his mouth before he reaches for your cigarette, stealing it from your fingers and bringing it to his own lips. He draws in a breath, inhaling the smoke before blowing it out directly into your mouth. Your lips part slightly, accepting it without hesitation.

Somehow it feels even more intimate than kissing, as you breath in each other's air and gaze lustfully at one another. His hazel eyes drop to your mouth as his body leans closer, trapping you against the wall.

You can feel his hard bulge through his jeans and you cry on the inside, wanting to slap him for not choosing to wear basketball shorts today.

You slowly reach for the front of his pants, but he grabs your wrist gently, pushing it against the wall beside you. He brings his mouth close to your ear and the side of his neck is temptingly close to your lips. You imagine darting your tongue out and licking it, wondering what his skin tastes like.

His deep, raspy voice fills your ear, sending chills down your body to your toes. "If I catch one of these in your mouth again..." He drops the cigarette, crushing it under his shoe. "I'll replace it with something much bigger. And as pleasing as that probably sounds to you, I will not make it enjoyable."

Your body visibly shutters at his words and he backs away, leaving you shaky and desperate.

"Get it together, y/l/n." He chuckles, suddenly back in character and putting on his best Coach Negan voice while entering the gym doors.

Fuck. You gather yourself enough to follow behind him a few minutes later. When you enter the gym, your peers are lined up on the court doing their stretches and you fall into place, finding a spot in the back. You sit down, stretching your legs apart and out in front of you while leaning forward and struggling to reach your toes with your fingertips.

Negan approaches you chuckling. "Oh, darlin'.. I know you can stretch further than that." He crouches down directly in front of you. "Need some motivation? I'm right here... Reach for me, doll." He taunts, whispering the last part for only the two of you to hear.

You lock eyes with him and reach forward, finally grabbing your toes as your face comes closer to his. "That's my good fuckin' girl." He smirks proudly before standing to his feet and cockily walking off.

Your face reddens as you feel more wetness pool in your panties. You've never been so horny and desperate for a man's cock in your life and it almost brings you to tears. Knowing how big and thick he is behind his jeans just makes you crave him more and you can't help but stare. He's bigger than any boy you've been with before and you know he would obliterate you.

"Something on your mind, y/n?" He calls out, making your classmates turn their heads to look at you. Your eyes widen and he winks at you, resting his hands on his hips.

"No sir." You say back, avoiding his gaze.

"Alright, we're gonna do something fun today since tomorrow is sadly our last day together." Negan announces, looking towards you at the end of his sentence. Your heart aches a little at this words.

Since tomorrow is sadly our last day together.

"Since only a handful of you showed up today, we're gonna do a scrimmage game." He bounces the basketball lazily while he goes over the rules, and your heart races with nervous excitement.

He chooses a team captain to play against him as they both take turns choosing their players. You wait patiently for Negan to say your name, but find yourself disappointed when moments pass and the others have been picked while you and the only other girl in class stand alone.

To even more surprise, Negan says the other girl's name while simultaneously grinning at you and you scrunch your brows at him angrily.

Okay. If that's how he wants to be.

"Man to man." Negan says, not taking his eyes off of you, claiming you as his.

Negan disappears into the locker room to change and you practically drool when he comes back out in basketball shorts and a white t-shirt.

Your team has the ball as you stand close by the goal next to Negan, who casually guards you. Neither one of you are that into the game, but more focused on teasing each other.

Negan stands directly behind you, pressing his body lightly against yours and you let yourself sink into him. His mouth leans next to your ear like before and all you want is to reach your hands behind you and feel him.

"Pay attention, doll. You seem distracted."

You don't have time to respond before your teammate passes you the ball and you turn, trying to shoot. Negan keeps his hands by his sides as he lets you attempt your shot.

Surprisingly you make it and you look to Negan, expecting him to talk trash, but instead he grins proudly.

"That's my fuckin' girl."

He says, running past you to the other side of the court. You follow him closely and his player passes him the ball quickly. Negan steps back, bouncing the ball and giving you the chance to get in front of him.

He bites his lip, loving your enthusiasm as you're determined not to let him score. When he attempts to go past you, you step in front of him and push your body into his roughly but it only causes you to lose your balance and stumble. You grab onto the front of his shirt, bringing him down with you as he falls on top of you, catching himself with his hand before crushing you.

His mouth is right above yours as he smirks. He goes to stand up, not wanting to make a scene in front of everyone, and subtly thrusts his hips into you before standing to his feet and lifting you up with him.

"Well obviously that's a foul, guess I get a free throw." He stands at the line to shoot, but misses the first shot, shocking all of you since he never misses unless it's on purpose.

"Something on your mind, coach? You seem distracted." You tease and he shoots you a warning glare.

He makes the next shot, looking to you. "Not at all. Takes a lot to get my attention." He smiles, running past you.

The game comes to an end when he makes the winning shot.

"And that? is how it's fucking done." He laughs, dismissing you all for the day.

Your classmates head to the lockers to collect their things and you follow behind them before Negan stops you, grabbing your wrist.

Your pulse races at the two of you being the only ones left standing in the gym.

"Don't be a sore fuckin' loser, baby." He teases, looking down at you.

"Maybe I let you win."

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm just fuckin' better than you." His head tilts as you look into his flirty eyes before pushing past him and joining the other girl in the locker room.

"He wants you bad." The girl says, changing into her clothes.

"What?" You ask, sitting on the bench next to her.

"Coach Negan.. It's so obvious, don't play dumb." She laughs annoyed before grabbing her bag and leaving.

You watch her leave, wondering if you two were really that obvious. Does everyone else see it too?

You decide to undress, turning on one of the showers and taking advantage of the empty locker room while you can. Most of your friends can't wait for school to be out, but the thought of never coming back here makes you depressed.

You light a cigarette to make yourself feel better, taking a few puffs while you lean against the side of the shower and wait for the water to heat up.

You press your cigarette into the counter, laying it there for later as you step into the hot shower. You lean against the wall, letting the water run over you as your favorite image floods your mind. Your hand drops to your pussy, finding your clit and rubbing slowly, imagining Negan between your legs.

"Negan.." You moan out, opening your eyes and quickly jerking your hand away when you lock eyes with Negan, who’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed disappointedly.

"Wanna explain?" He asks and you blush as you try to cover yourself unsuccessfully.

"I was - I just.." You stutter, looking down at yourself.

"Not that. Hell, I was even gonna let you finish." He explains before holding up your cigarette. "This.. remember what I said?"

You nod, gulping noticeably as your heart beats hard with anticipation of your punishment. He flicks the cigarette in the trash before stepping in the shower with you and you back away slightly, giving him room.

"What are you waiting for then? On your fuckin' knees."

You stare at him wide-eyed, watching the water soak through his white shirt as it clings to him, revealing his toned body and dark chest hair. You slowly drop to your knees, trying to get comfortable in the small shower as your ass rests against the back of your legs.

"Take it out, sweetheart." He says, staring down at you as you obey him and pull his pants down to his ankles and off his feet, not taking your eyes off his hard length in front of your face. You eagerly lean forward to take him in your mouth, but his hand grips the back of your hair, urging you to look up at him.

"Not so fast, remember this is a fuckin' punishment, doll." You try looking up at him but the water sprays against his stomach and onto your face.

He grips the base of his cock, guiding it to your mouth and tapping the tip against your lips until you open for him. He pushes past your lips as your mouth stretches around him and you moan, closing your eyes as the water runs down your face.

His hands rest behind you on the shower wall as he leans over you, thrusting his hips and pushing himself deeper down your throat each time. You gag around him and try to pull your head back but his hand falls to your head, holding you in place.

"You're gonna take all of me, baby." He breathes out heavily, holding your head down until your nose is pressed into his soft dark curls. You struggle, unable to breathe as his length completely obstructs your airway.

You push on his thighs, panicking as your eyes water. He finally pulls back, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him as he bends down, hovering his face over yours.

You inhale a deep breath, taking in all the air you can get while you have the opportunity. Water drips off his wet hair, running down his face as he stares at you through dark, wet lashes.

He's so fucking pretty. You think to yourself as he grins, squeezing your face tighter.

"You are so fuckin' pretty like this." He says, echoing your own thoughts. "I am no where near down with that mouth, doll. I've waited so long so see you take my cock. Gonna fuck your face until I goddamn ruin you." He whispers aggressively before spitting directly into your mouth.

You swallow his saliva, secretly loving his roughness. He notices your slight grin and his face turns cold and serious.

"You enjoying this, sweetheart?"

You nod desperately, eager for him to use you.

"Can't have that, baby. Guess I'll have to try harder, huh?"

Fear washes over you, not knowing what's to come as he suddenly leans back up into his original position.

Without warning, he slams your head back against his cock completely, making you choke around him. His other hand is back against the wall behind you as guides you using your hair and roughly fucks your face. He angles your head back slightly, letting the shower waterboard you and you struggle.

He thrusts into your mouth relentlessly, until your jaw aches and you turn almost blue from lack of oxygen.

“Fuck” He grunts, pulling his dick out of your mouth quickly at the sight of you almost passing out, before squeezing his large hand around your throat and pulling you up off your knees.

You feel dizzy and disoriented, but he presses his body against yours, pinning you to the wall to hold you up. "Hey, breathe, baby. Breathe." He lightly slaps your face as you slowly regain consciousness.

Once he knows you're okay, he wipes the mascara running down your cheeks with his thumbs and grins proudly at you.

"You gonna touch another fuckin' cigarette?"

You shake your head no, trying to slow your breathing and calm down.

"Good girl." He praises you. "Finish up and get dressed, doll. Don't want your parents wonderin' where the hell you are."

You hear him chuckle as he exits the locker room with a towel wrapped around him, leaving you with panting and aching painfully between your legs.

And you realize.. that’s the real punishment.

Final part coming soon :)

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dreaming-medium · 7 months

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Stray Kids Kinktober Day 1

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Orgasm Denial - Han Jisung

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: After watching other men flirt with you at a party, Jisung’s patience has officially run out.

————————————————————

You were torturing Han Jisung without even realizing it.

Jisung had absolutely no reason to be mad right now. He has no right being as livid as he is. But the jealousy that he feels in the deepest pit of his stomach is bubbling like boiling lava and spreading throughout his chest and into each of his limbs.

Currently, you were leaning against the countertop of the kitchen talking to Hyunjin, a red solo cup held up to your lips, throat bobbing as you sipped your drink.

Whatever story he decided to tell you must be intensely captivating for you to give him this much of your time.

The loud music booming through the speakers made the walls vibrate. None of the main lights in the kitchen were on, instead, LED strips lined the walls of Chan’s apartment. Currently, they were set to a deep blue.

You can talk to whoever you want, wherever you want. Jisung cannot do anything about that.

That’s the problem, you’re not his. And he doesn’t spend a single day wishing that wasn’t true.

Jisung has had his eye on you for the better part of a year now. Both of you were in a majority of the same classes; he actually met you on the first day when the only open seat in the lecture hall was next to him.

When he moved his bag away from the chair for you to sit down, you flashed the brightest smile with a ‘thank you’ and instantly he was hooked.

It all started out so innocently. His heart would race when you would walk into the room in those adorably coordinated outfits; his hands would get clammy and he would get tongue tied whenever you tried to speak to him.

After you would leave he would be able to smell your perfume like a phantom haunting his life.

Class after class, you would talk more and more. Eventually you asked for his phone number.

“Just in case I need help with the homework.” Your eyes sparkled at him. Jisung couldn’t get his phone out of his pocket fast enough.

“Yeah! Of course, totally.” He fumbled with his words. All you did was giggle at him and the sound went straight to his heart which thudded against his rib cage.

Homework related texts slowly turned into more friendly conversation.

Jisung can still remember the first time you touched him, he could still feel your hand on his arm days afterwards. You were only trying to get his attention to look at one of your other classmates who fell asleep in a ridiculous position, but he couldn’t even focus on that.

All he knew at that moment was that your hand was on his arm, all five of your fingers were curled around his forearm.

Jisung thanked every single god in existence that he had rolled up the sleeves of his flannel not even ten minutes prior to your grab. Because of this, he was able to feel just how soft your hands were, how warm your skin was.

Study sessions evolved into hangouts which then evolved to him introducing you to his friends.

You were now part of his close circle of friends. It’s so bittersweet to Jisung.

Now, he sees you almost every single day, but at the same time, so does everyone else.

Innocent thoughts about how beautiful your skin tone looks with the color yellow dissolved into much more impure fantasies.

If your hands felt that soft on his forearm, then he can’t imagine how they would feel everywhere else on his body. How the pads of your fingertips would feel sliding down his chest, over his abs and tracing down his v-line.

The day you came to his apartment after getting your nails done the only thought on Jisung’s mind was how delicious it would feel to have those pretty little nails scratching down his back. Your head thrown back in pleasure, eyes rolling into the back of your head, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Fuck, when you say his name it’s like nothing else exists.

And now you’re talking to Hwang Hyunjin of all people. Whatever Hyunjin just said to you must’ve been especially funny to you since your head jerks forward and a choked laugh almost makes you spit out your drink.

Hyunjin laughs with you and his hand comes up to grab your upper arm.

Jisung clenches his jaw so tight the muscles in his face hurt.

What the hell was he supposed to do? He’s been standing on the other side of the semi-crowded kitchen for about ten minutes now, silently seething as you talk to another man who is so obviously flirting with you.

You are not his. You are not his.

But, fuck, he wants you so fucking bad. He wants to know if your perfume will linger on his sheets after you’ve left his bed. Would his pillow hold onto the smell of your shampoo?

Jisung looks down at the empty cup in his hand, his imagination running wild.

He was the one that walked with you to this party, like always. Which means he’ll also be the one to walk you home. That thought sates a tiny bit of jealousy.

But it’s really only like throwing a bucket of water into a raging wildfire.

There’s a loud yelp and Jisung’s head snaps up and looks over at you.

Someone had bumped into the back of Hyunjin, causing his cup to jolt and contents to spill all down the front of your shirt.

“Shit,” you curse, looking down at the damage. His drink was dark and your shirt was white.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Hyunjin apologizes profusely, putting his now empty cup on the counter and grabbing an absurd amount of paper towels.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile at him. “Accidents happen.”

Hyunjin starts dabbing at your shirt with the paper towels.

Jisung’s hand clenches his cup so hard the plastic crunches and the cup crushes.

“... Dude.” Minho says in a deadpan tone next to him. Has he been next to him the entire time?

Jisung can’t take his eyes off of the two of you. Does Hyunjin even realize what he’s doing? His hands are all over your stomach and chest, wiping off the drink that drips down the open collar of your shirt, dipping into the valley of your breasts.

He wouldn’t even need the paper towels. Give Jisung three minutes and he could have you clean with nothing but his tongue. Fuck, maybe even just two minutes.

One. He only needs one. Just give him one minute with you.

“Ugh, this shirt is ruined,” you frown, holding the fabric away from your skin. “I’m gunna go borrow one from Chan, be right back.”

Once more, you smile at Hyunjin who only apologizes more.

You weave your way through the crowd of people and out of the kitchen.

Jisung doesn’t even think, he slams his crushed cup down on the counter next to a startled Minho and immediately follows you. His body is acting on its own at this point, blinded by the green hue of jealousy.

He’s only about three steps behind you when you walk into Chan’s bedroom. You step further into the room and towards the closet, Jisung enters the room and closes the door behind him.

A startled yelp leaves your lips and you turn around with your hand clutching your chest.

“Jisung!” You exclaim. God, your voice does sinful things to his mind. “You scared the shit out of me.”

You giggle and look down at your ruined shirt. “Someone bumped into Hyunjin and he spilled his entire drink on my shirt. You don’t think Chan will mind if I borrow one of his shirts, right?”

Jisung doesn’t answer, he only locks the door with a solid click.

Your expression drops. “Jisung?” you ask gently. “Are you alright?” You step closer to him with a concerned pull of your eyebrows.

His pupils are blown wide and his shoulders rise and fall with each breath. He’s zeroed in your face, his chin dipping down slightly, lips parted.

Something just… snaps within him. Maybe it’s the alcohol, who knows?

Jisung takes large steps towards you at an alarming rate.

Startled, you back up quickly until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

“Jisung?” you ask again.

“Didn’t you want to get this off?” is all he says, grabbing two fist fulls of the bottom of your soaked shirt. The fabric is cold to the touch.

“Wh-” is all you have time to say before your shirt is yanked over your head. You gasp and your hands fly up to cover your chest.

Jisung throws the shirt onto the floor and reaches forward and grabs both of your wrists tightly. He tugs you towards his body and you stumble forward into him.

“All night you’ve been talking to him, Y/N.” he growls. Your eyes are wide in surprise. “All night. And you just stand there while he undresses you with his eyes.”

Jisung pulls your arms apart and holds them out at your sides. He takes another step forward until your chests are flush against one another.

His breathing is so deep that with each inhale you press even further into him.

Your cheeks heat up and you sputter out incoherent words, not knowing where any of this is coming from.

“Jisung, I-”

“I can’t take it anymore, Y/N.” his voice dips down an octave, it’s raspy and thick. “I can’t stand by and watch other people try to take you from me.”

He leans down quickly and stops his lips mere millimeters from yours. He can practically taste your chapstick from this distance. That damn cherry chapstick that you would put on during the colder months.

“Say you’re mine, Y/N. Please, please be mine.”

You swallow audibly, your eyes are staring down at his lips. The party outside the room sounds so far away.

“I’ve always been yours, Jisung.”

It feels like he’s shocked by a live wire the way a wave of electricity travels down his entire body at your words. And that feeling is nothing compared to how his body reacts when he finally kisses you.

Every single nerve comes alive in his body at the press of your lips on his. He can’t help but let a small whimper escape the back of his throat.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is really happening.

His hands move from grasping your lips to desperately grab at your face. He can’t control his hands, one moment he’s cupping your face, the next he’s grabbing at the sides of your ribcage.

When he feels the heat of your naked skin in his hands he nearly moans out loud.

You’re so much softer than he could’ve ever imagined.

Lips desperately slide over one another. Large gasps of air in between each one. It’s filthy the way he devours your mouth.

His tongue slides out from behind his lips at the same time as yours does and they meet in the middle for a sinful dance.

Your hands wrap around his neck and one threads into his hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling.

This time he does moan and it’s guttural and deep.

His dick has been hard from the moment you said his name in this room, and with each second that passes his jeans only get tighter.

“Mine,” he whispers in between kisses. “All mine.”

You sigh into the kiss and press your chest against his even further.

Jisung’s hands move behind your back and begin to fumble with your bra, it comes off within seconds. You pull your arms away from him to let it fall off your body.

He tears his lips away from yours and peers down at your naked chest. He can feel precum leaking out of his cock at the sight of your tits.

“Fuck,” he grunts and his hands come up and cup both of them in greedy handfuls. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Jisung,” you whine at his touch.

“Get on the bed, baby.” he commands and you immediately fall backwards onto it.

From your seated position, you scoot backwards towards the middle and Jisung watches, palming over his painful clothed erection.

The way you’re looking up at him from the bed does nothing to help easy the aching in his pants. You bat your eyelashes at him and his knees almost give out.

Jisung yanks his shirt over his head and throws it onto the floor mindlessly. He crawls over you and captures your lips with his again.

Your moans of pleasure are music to his ears.

One of his hands slides up your body to grab at your chest again, he palms your one tit for a moment before pulling the nipple between his fingers.

Your back arches upwards into his touch and you moan into his mouth. The heat from your naked body is radiating onto him.

“Jisung,” you mewl against his mouth, “Jisung please.”

“Please, what?” he presses into you.

You answer by rolling your hips up against his. The delicious pressure against his aching cock causes him to buck downwards.

Both of you moan together at the feeling. He doesn’t care if it’s pathetic, you’re making his body sing with even the smallest of touches; playing him like an instrument.

“Touch me, Jisung, please.”

He’s died, surely he’s died and gone to Heaven.

Those words rip right through him. You’re begging him to touch you?

“Shit,” he rasps against your lips. His hips roll against yours again. He’ll touch you every single moment of every day for the rest of your lives if you’ll let him.

His hand slides down and undoes the button of your jeans as fast as possible. His fingers wont work fast enough for how fucking bad he wants to fulfill your request.

As soon as the button is undone, he’s yanking your jeans and panties down your legs and launching them across the room.

Jisung props himself on his elbow next to your head and looks down at your face. Your cheeks are flushed red and eyes half-lidded. Your hair fans like a halo around your head.

Your lips are completely swollen and red, their soaking wet from the spit swapped between the two of you. Deep pants are coming out in large breaths.

“You want me to touch you, baby?” Jisung purrs down to you. You gulp and nod your head quickly.

“Please,” you utter.

He smirks at your begging.

Slowly he drags his fingers down your stomach with a featherlight touch. His eyes follow his own hand. Your stomach muscles jump at his caress.

You’re an absolute angel underneath him.

He can’t stop staring at your body. Months and months he’s pined to know what you look like underneath those clothes. The first time you wore a matching yoga set to class Jisung nearly came in his pants.

The way it hugged every single curve on your body.

And now seeing you uncovered before his very eyes feels unreal. Like any moment he’ll wake up from a dream.

His mouth dips down and captures your kiss-swollen lips once more, his hand splayed out on your lower stomach.

Lower and lower he trails his wet, open mouth kisses down your skin. The lower he gets, he can taste the drink that Hyunjin spilled on you.

Rum and coke.

The rum is so sticky sweet on your skin and it makes his head whirl. His fingers curl and he scratches down your stomach causing you to throw your head back in a moan.

“Jisung…” your hips roll off the bed again but he pushes them back down with his hand.

“No, no,” he growls against your skin, leaning down and licking between the valley of your breasts. “I’ve waited too long for this. You’re going to be patient and take whatever I give you.”

A sharp inhale is the only response he hears before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the pebbled bud.

Your hand comes up and you grab a fistful of his hair again.

Quiet cries of pleasure spill from your lips with every lick and nip of his teeth.

Eventually his hand moves further down and he runs his fingers softly through your folds.

“Fucking shit you’re so wet,” he purrs against your chest.

“Want you so bad, Ji…” you sound so fucked out already and he’s barely touched you. It makes him keen and moan against your skin.

His fingers glide up and down your slit. If it wasn’t for the loud music right outside the room, he’s sure the noises coming from his touch would be sinful.

Jisung easily glides a finger into your opening and your head kicks back and is thrown against the pillow. A long moan comes from deep within your throat.

He slides another finger in and his thumb rubs against your clit slowly. Pleasure rips through your veins and shoots shockwaves down your legs.

The alcohol in your blood only makes everything feel even better.

Every single sound of pleasure that comes out of your mouth only encourages him further. Jisung feels like he’s drowning in ecstasy just by listening to you.

The hand in his hair tightens and you yank his head up to meet your lips in a searing kiss. It’s sloppy and messy. Tongues sliding over one another, heavy exhales leaving both of your mouths.

When Jisung curls his fingers inside you, you cry out against his lips and your eyebrows furrow in pleasure.

“That’s right, baby. Focus on how good I’m making you feel.”

“Ji… Ji…” you pant his nickname over and over in between exhales, pulling his hair tightly and making him feel insane.

The speed at which his fingers move increases and his thumb presses even harder against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m… I’m close…”

“You are?” he asks under his breath, faster and faster he moves.

The pressure in your abdomen builds and builds.

“Who’s making you feel like this, baby?”

You can’t answer him, you’re too busy squirming around the bed, your hips can’t keep still.

“Answer me, Y/N.”

He can feel your walls clamping on his fingers tighter and tighter as you hurl towards the edge. But still, you don’t answer.

So, he stops.

His finger still within you and an absolutely desperate wail leaves your lips.

“Fuck!” you cry, “Please!”

Jisung shifts his weight on his elbow and uses that hand to grab a hold of your hair in a steel like grip.

“Girls who don’t listen don’t get to cum.” he growls in your ear. “Now, let’s try this again.”

Slowly, he begins to pump his fingers in and out of your soaking wet cunt. Your hips roll against his fingers, meeting each thrust.

Too slow, he’s moving too slow. You whine and squirm even more underneath him.

His thumb is rubbing figure eights on your clit, pleasure coursing through your veins like a drug. Closer and closer he brings you to the edge again.

With each passing second, he picks up his speed even more, curling his fingers to hit that spongy spot within you each time he thrusts in.

Your juices cover his entire hand, soaking the sheets underneath you both.

Every single wet dream he’s ever had is coming to life right before his very eyes.

“Who is making you feel this good?” Jisung’s voice is dark and low, it rumbles within his chest. Your eyes are clamped shut, mouth hanging open.

Tighter and tighter your walls clamp down.

“Y/N!”

“You! Fuck!”

Jisung stops completely again. He yanks your hair as you cry out in frustration.

“Not good enough, Y/N!” he barks.

“Please please please!”

Your hips roll against his fingers to try and relieve that terrible ache in your cunt.

He leans down and bites down where your neck meets your shoulder– hard. An even louder whine leaves your lips. He can feel you clench around him from the feeling.

“We’re going to try this one last time, Y/N.” he hums against your rum coated skin. “And you’re going to be a good girl for me, okay?”

All you’re able to do is nod, your head is in the clouds.

He doesn’t start slow this time, his pace is immediately brutal. Your eyes fly open and he leans up to look down into your eyes.

Your pupils are completely blown out, eyes hazy in pleasure. A deep scarlet color covers your cheeks.

He hits your g-spot roughly with one particularly hard thrust at the same time his thumb presses your clit and your eyes roll back, chin tipping back.

“No,” he barks and yanks your head back, “Look at me.”

It takes so much strength to keep your gaze on him. Moan after moan tumbles from your swollen lips.

“Close… close… please, please!” you cry.

“Who. Is. Making. You. Feel. Like. This?” he emphasizes each word with a thrust into your soaking wet walls.

He needs you to remember he’s touching you, him. Not Hyunjin, no one else. .

“You! Jisung! Han Jisung!”

“Louder!”

“Han Jisung! Fuck!”

Finally, he lets you fall over the edge and your walls squeeze his fingers so tight Jisung thinks he might cum in his own pants.

Your moans and cries of his name will be tattooed in his mind forever.

With hips bucking uncontrollably, he lets you ride out your absolutely mind-blowing orgasm. Deep hums emanate from your chest as you come down from that delicious peak.

“Fuck, baby,” he purrs into your ear, running his tongue up the side. “Can’t wait to hear you scream my name again, but this time you’ll be cumming on my cock.”

#stray kids smut #stray kids kinktober #skz smut #skz kinktober #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #han x reader #skz x reader #han jisung

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

Note

PLEASE could you write a buggy x reader where it’s her first time seeing him without his makeup and he’s in relatively plain clothes and he gets super worried that she won’t like him anymore because he’s not all flashy but she comforts him?? Thank you!!!

Oh I love this! I gotcha love

Buggy X FemReader

Tiny spoonful of Angst and Lots of Fluff

Slightly SubBuggy

You had just gotten out of the bath, towel drying your hair after a particular long day in the Big Top. After a very well done raid of a island, a so-so show you had finally gotten time to winde down for the day. But there was one thing missing- Your damn brush! You'd practically torn apart your room to find it.

Groaning you get up and walk a few doors down to Buggy's room. Often leaving your stuff there or him leaving his stuff in your room- It was just apart of your guys relationship.

"Hey Bugs did I leave my brush in your room?"

You called out as you stepped into his room, having been too familiar with the Captian to bother knocking. The two of you being in a romantic relationship with each other, while he was your Captian he was also the man who you held at night and kissed away his fears and doubts.

Opening the door you are invited to a surprising sight, there stood Buggy in the center of his room in simple black trousers and a white shirt, his blue hair was down his back in thick waves that showed off his face very well. His face cleared of any makeup and even looked moisturized.

His eyes were wide in shock at seeing you there and seeing him like this- His face turning bright red as he stared at you.

"Bugs?.. Do you have my brush?" You asked, blinking at him as you still wanted your brush. Walking into the room and closing the door behind you as you walk to him and look at the vanity were you might have left it.

"G-Get the hell out!" He yelled, embarrassed anger on his face as he pointed to the door. You looked at him in surprise, a brow being raises at his words.

"What's you're problem?" You ask, narrowing your gaze on him and walking to the Captian who stepped away from you.

"I just said get the hell out (Y/N)!! Who do you think you are walking into my room like this! I let you get away with lots but don't you dare think I will-" He was cut off as you reached forward and touched his hair, twirling a loc in your fingertips.

"Your hair looks pretty" You commented, seeing his face blow red like a lamp. He started to stutter nonsense at you, watching as you continued to play with his hair.

"Are you self conscious my Love? I've seen every part of you, just as you've seen me. What has you concerned" He shuts up at this, forgetting you can read him like a open book. He deflates slightly at your words.

"I-I don't look flashy- and my makeup is gone" He muttered, keeping his gaze from you awkwardly. You soften and reach up to gently cup his face, kissing his clean cheek.

"Oh Buggy, you look handsome with or without your makeup. You will always be sexy to me I'm the flashiest of clothes or plain. You are perfect the way you are" You said sweetly, caressing his cheek that had the starts of blue stubble on it. His eyes softened at this as he leaned into your touch.

"Here, let's go lay down Bugs" You suggest, feeling him nod against your hands. Gently reaching down tou take his hand and lead him to the bed, climbing in first you watch him follow after you. Crawling towards you and laying his body against yours, running your fingers through his hair gently in reward as his head laid on your pelvis as he cuddled against your inner leg. Eyes closed and relaxed as he laid there, vulnerable and safe in your arms. A content sigh leaving his pink lips.

"Thank you (Y/N)... Also- i broke your brush and threw it out to sea"

He was met with a pillow to his head at that- and he giggled at this as he snuggled in closer.

#x reader #one peice x reader #buggy the clown x reader #one peice live action #one piece #buggy one piece #buggy x reader

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sprout-fics · 1 year

Note

request for ghost 👀 ghost x medic!reader that is basically the opposite of him. super gentle and docile, they’re the sunshine of the team (affectionately named by Soap). ghost is infatuated but refuses to believe someone as good hearted as them could ever be interested in him. like he feels like he’s not good enough for reader but reader is scared of rejection so they also don’t say anything. basically two idiots in love pining for each other

Sunshine (Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN! Reader)

Rating: M

Word Count: 2.5 k

Warnings: Explicit mention of murder, blood, and injuries, I have not played any of the games so if Ghost is OOC then shoot me I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Summary:

“Sunshine” They called you. It was a bit of a misnomer, all things considered. While your sweet, gentle personality was quietly adored off the field, your laser focus and scorching gaze locked that part of you away on mission. Soap had teased you once in the early days as you stitched his arm in a safehouse, saying you had the sweetest, gentlest touch on a medic he’d ever felt.

“Feels like fuckin’ sunshine, corporal.” He slurred, heavy off painkillers as you tended to the bullet in his shoulder. “Best hands I’ve ever had on me.”

You had given him a sharp pinch for the innuendo, but the nickname had stuck anyways.

It had taken some time to earn the trust of the group. They had been burned one too many times to take in a new member without a healthy amount of suspicion. It was only after you had managed to patch them up half a dozen times each that they grew accustomed to your steady, reaffirming presence.

Most of them, at least.

Ghost was a quiet one, living up to his name as he lingered in the shadows, haunting like a specter at the corner of every scene. When he spoke, it was only to issue orders, to patch into the comms and relay intel. Like a wraith, his broad form occupied the corner of your mind, his voice a rough hard scrape like soot against your fingertips. His eyes watched you from afar, deadly, precise, ever true to his aim.

You never see his face.

“Don’t worry, he’s just got a bad chin.” Soap whispers conspiratorially to you as you both lay low over a rooftop that looks over your target. “Like one of those goddamn Hapsburg royals.”

“I doubt that.” You snort, eyes never leaving your scope.

Still, you do wonder sometimes. You can’t help it. There’s something inside you that gravitates towards him like being pulled in by a black hole. The very presence of him draws your eyes to his, dark, unflinching, cold. Sometimes you feel like he can see straight through you, as transparent as a phantom.

“Sunshine, on me.” He barks, and damn if you two don’t make quite the duo- bright sunlight and a dead man walking.

The only times you get glimpses of him are when he’s injured, which is rare. You pull up his sleeve to reveal his forearm, thick, muscular, veiny. For a moment you want to trace your fingers over it, nails scraping against the dark ink in contrast to his skin- a skull.

Ghost’s eyes never leave you as you work, and you don’t notice the way his gaze lingers over your lips, your lashes.

You talk to him as you clean the cut- a sharp slice of a knife from a terrorist who got too close. He had been a step to your left, and you had raised your gun but Ghost had gotten him first. You didn’t even realize the hulking soldier was in your shadow until his knife was buried into the man’s neck and a curse tore from his throat at the blade lodged in his own arm.

The blood drips red across your gloved fingers as you try to distract him from the pain, and yourself from the strange flutter that echoes low in your stomach. Inside, you try to quell whatever this is- this want, this need inside you for him to be even closer, to hear his voice whisper across your skin.

Your nimble fingers work over the wound, neatly gathering the edges. It’ll leave a scar, and you wonder for a moment just how many he has, exactly. What are the stories that tie them to his flesh? The history woven into the sinew of his muscles?

“I’m sorry.” You offer, and your voice is quiet somehow, unable to fill the scant space between you. Sorry that you had been too slow, sorry he had gotten hurt as a result, sorry for having feelings despite yourself.

“…It’s fine.” The Lieutenant offers after several long heartbeats. “I’m fine.”

It’s not fine, not really, but you accept his words regardless.

“Thank you.” Ghost manages after you’re done, and his voice is uncharacteristically subdued. His eyes avert from you, as if he doesn’t want to meet your gaze. That shiver inside you swoops low with uncertainty at his hesitation, but before you can part your lips to speak he’s gone as if he was never there at all.

---

It’s only after a close call that is far too close that things change.

The sniper catches you by surprise, having managed to circle around your group and catch you from behind. The bullet goes straight through your shoulder, and if you hadn’t turned to listen to Price just a millisecond prior you know it would have been through your skull. The impact topples you forward onto the rubbled concrete below you, and the world is spinning, ringing as Price is shouting orders seconds before the rapid pop of gunfire erupts around you.

“Sunshine!!”

You try to stand, to reach for your weapon but it feels like your lungs are caught between a hydraulic press. There’s blood splattered across the ground under your hands and it blurs as your vision tries to right itself from the pain. Someone is calling your name but it sounds like it's coming through water, garbled and distant.

The world around you shifts abruptly, tilting on its axis as a pair of thick cut arms lifts you like you’re no heavier than a sack of flour. Hands reach across you, removing the strap of your rifle from your form and you catch a glimpse of the blood that’s soaked through it, dark and glistening.

“Got ‘em.” A voice gravels next to your ear, and it takes you more than one second to realize its Ghost who’s got you slung over his bulking shoulders, his gear digging into your ribcage as you wheeze and try to ground yourself against the nauseating wave of pain that bubbles up your throat, thick and red.

“Go!” Price barks, and you dimly are aware of the fact that he sounds oddly afraid. “We’ll cover you.”

The world is jostling, turning, shifting, and the sudden dizziness of it all crashes over you as your vision turns black.

---

The next hour comes in flashes of black and red, and you learn later that the bullet narrowly missed an artery- a fatal blow. Your entire left side is soaked in blood by the time you wake, but you’re alive, drowsy, laying down on a cleared off table at the safe house with the dusty kitchen light shining brightly down on you.

You hiss at the brightness and try to move to press a hand to the wound, only for an iron-rod grip to settle your wrist back onto the flat surface under you.

“Don’t.”

You blink for a few moments, turning your head to meet the white skull mask next to you. The lieutenant looks comically too large for the chair he’s sitting in, and with his size his gaze is still above you, gazing down with that unblinking stare

“You lost a lot of blood.” Ghost relays calmly, his grip still on your wrist. It’s nice, the warmth of his hand spilling through his glove onto your clammy skin. “Thought we lost you.”

There’s a tenderness in his voice that surprises you, and you can’t tell if it’s the painkillers helping you imagine it. The fact that he’s sitting here, with you, instead of with the voices that filter in from the other room, should tell you something. Your senses are too cloudy, heavy and weighed down by whatever they gave you for the pain.

“ ‘M not dead.” You manage, voice a hard scrape in your throat. “It’ll take more than that to make me a ghost.”

Maybe it’s the painkiller after all, but you swear you hear him chuckle.

---

You’re haunted after that.

Ghost’s figure is too large for your own shadow, but he stays there nonetheless, dark and omnipresent like a curse. In some ways it is. The constant presence of him forces you to constantly push down that flutter in your stomach, to make sure your eyes don’t linger on his for too long, to not say his name like the soft sigh that it is in your heart. You catch his eyes and feel a rush of warmth creep up your neck under your gear, feel the phantom of his touch skim across your wrist.

You’ve fallen for him.

Fuck.

That itself is not a problem- well, it is, but not as bad as the issue it presents. You can’t say anything. He’s your superior, you’re part of his team, and there are clear boundaries that can’t be crossed in wartime.

More than that though, is the fact that he probably doesn’t feel the same. Ghost has never mentioned anything about romance, even to Soap, who he seems closest with. When you had gently queried the sergeant for intel on the topic he had merely looked at you as if you expected him to know the secret of the afterlife itself. You count your blessings that Soap is dense when it comes to that sort of topic, otherwise he’d be pestering you for weeks about your little secret.

So, you try to contain it, this infatuation of yours, spoon feeding yourself lies about how it’ll pass, how it’s just a phase, that you two were never meant to be. It’s difficult to do just that when he’s always there, crowding into your space like your own personal attack dog, wordlessly present at all times. His eyes trace you as you pass, and you feel the chill of them carve into your bones and leave you trembling and weak.

It's fine, I’m fine. You tell yourself, more than once a day at this point, forcing down the rush of warmth when your eyes meet, when you hear his voice speak your name, when you feel him right fucking behind you.

On top of it all, Ghost starts putting you in the backseat, starts holding you from rooms until they’ve been cleared, and starts treating you like a goddamn rookie. The part of you that is hopeless over him thinks at first he’s being overprotective, watching your six and making sure there will never be a repeat of the incident that nearly cost you your life. You know better than that though, know that Ghost likely doesn’t have feelings for you, that he’s putting you on the back burner deliberately to teach you a lesson over not paying attention- and that pisses you right off.

It takes a while but you manage to corner him back at base after a successful mission where you all but sat on your ass the entire time while he and Price took the lead. You find him lurking in a back hallway, and you can’t contain your uncharacteristic anger as you stride up to him, plant your hands on either side of him on the wall and gaze furiously up at his masked face.

“What.” You grit. “-the fuck was that?!”

Ghost, for what he’s worth, actually looks surprised. The expression is foreign to you, his eyes usually cold and dead, calculating and precise. He stiffens, and even though you barely reach his collarbone with just how gigantic he is, manages to look like he’s actually a bit apprehensive of your stance towards him. In any other situation it would be borderline comical, with how you’re trying to physically intimidate a man much, much larger than yourself, with your arms barely able to box him in on either side.

“Watch your tone corporal.” He replies at last, and there’s a warning in his voice you don’t heed.

“Not until you tell me exactly why you’ve decided to treat me like I don’t know which end of the gun to shoot with.” You snap back, and the look your words earn you is chill inducing. Even so you don’t back down. “You have me being baby-sat during these missions like you can’t trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

The words spill out before he can catch them, and the confession has you both startled and blinking at each other wide-eyed. You feel shock spill across your chest, electric and dazzling for all of a moment. You aren’t surprised at the fact that Ghost trusts you, it’s the fact that he went so far as to say it out loud, voicing a rare instance of his inner thoughts to you in your confusion.

“Then why?” You ask, and you hate the way your voice sounds almost desperate, pleading for an answer.

Ghost stiffens, and you feel his muscles ripple as they brush against you.

“…I couldn’t have you injured again.” He speaks at last, and you know he’s trying to school his voice into a cold indifference, but you can hear the little note of shame there, of guilt.

“I’m going to get injured no matter what. That’s the job.” You point out, unable to contain the bite from your words.

“No.” Ghost manages, and his voice is tight, choked. “Not like that.”

You blink up at him, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability in his voice, the way he seems to almost be pleading with you.

Yet your entire world screeches to a halt at his next words.

“Because it’s you.”

Your heart beats against your chest like a trapped bird, and suddenly you’re stumbling back from him, back braced against the opposite wall of the hallway as you try to reconcile his words with reality.

Because it’s you.

“Why…why didn’t you say anything?” You croak, hands coming up to your face to massage your temples. “All this time, you…you didn’t say anything.”

Ghost shifts where he stands, and you know him well enough at this point that he’s fighting the urge to walk away, to blend into the shadow and pretend like this conversation never happened.

“You don’t feel the same.” He says bluntly, voice detached and empty as he braces for what he thinks is your inevitable rejection. “And even if you did, I…don’t deserve someone like you.”

Your eyes shoot up to meet his, and you shiver at what you find there. Hurt, longing, desire dark and deep and barely tamed.

“You-“ Ghost manages, and you can feel the discomfort radiating off of him, this brute man built like a tank but taken down by a few tender words. “You’re too good, sunshine.”

Slowly, the pieces fit together, like skin mended together by the seam of a stitch.

He thinks he doesn’t deserve you, bright and radiant as you are. You’re sunshine and he’s Ghost, he’s shadows and darkness and blood and the whisper of death with every bullet. He’s afraid that if he even touches you he’ll dye you dark at the seams, stifle that brightness within you.

He doesn’t know that light illuminates the darkness.

“Ghost.” You manage at last, and there’s a laugh on your lips, sweet and bitter all at once. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

You yank him down and kiss him through his mask, and something radiant glows inside you both.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ask box #requests #oneshots

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headkiss · 9 months

Note

annaaa im rewatching cm again and reentering my hotch phase and u are my ultimate favorite hotch writer so may i please beg for something sweet with him? maybe like making dinner or doing some other activity together? of course this is totally absolutely no pressure at all thank u i love u <33

kait my love angel bae i am so honoured to be ur fav hotch writer 😭🫶 this one’s for u and i hope u like it!!! | 0.6k of fluff

Aaron can hear you moving about in the kitchen when he gets home.

It’s something he’s had a hard time getting used to, the intimacy of it all. The sound of pots clanging and spoons scraping dishes as you stir things. It’s the reminder of having someone there, of never really being alone. Sure, he’s not used to it, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He’s good at being quiet, has to be for his job, so he shuts the door softly behind him and toes off his shoes. Sneaking down the hall, he spots you through the doorway of the kitchen, your hair up, back of your neck exposed.

Hotch leans a shoulder against the doorframe and watches you cook for a little, the stress of the day sort of melting away as he does.

You only catch him when you turn around, jumping and dropping the spoon you’d been holding onto the counter. “Aaron!” His name is dragged out in a whine, “you’ve gotta stop doing that.”

“Watching you cook?”

“Using your agent feet on me.”

He huffs a laugh at that one, a smile spreading over his face freely the way they seem to spread around you.

“Whatcha making?”

“Just some pasta. You wanna help?”

You offer him an apron, the neck dangling from your fingertips. Aaron takes it easily, tossing it over his button up that he’d worn to work. It’s a funny juxtaposition, the crisp state of his shirt and the stained canvas he wears over it.

“Where do you want me, chef?”

Whenever Aaron’s gone, you tend to worry and worry. That he’ll get hurt, that he’ll get tired of juggling you and his work. Then, he comes home to you, putting on your apron without complaining, and you’re not so worried anymore, because it makes sense. Having him beside you makes sense.

You grin at him over your shoulder, now turned back to the boiling water on the stove, “there’s some veggies in the fridge if you wanna cut those?”

“‘Course.”

As he walks behind you to get to the fridge, he pauses to push a kiss into the side of your neck, his arms weaving around your waist. You lean into his touch like an instinct, like there’s a string that shortens whenever he’s near, tugging the two of you towards each other.

You’re lucky to get him this way. Where everyone else sees Hotch, you only see Aaron.

Conversation comes easy as you cook together, Hotch getting a cutting board and setting himself up at the counter next to the stovetop. Not the most functional spot, but it’s the one closest to you, so he chooses it anyway.

Aaron’s not one to open up quickly. He doubts himself, questions whether he’ll be too much for the other person, worries that they’ll get fed up with his scattered schedule and leave. And then he met you and things were different.

He’d had to cancel your second date because of a case, and you’d barely blinked, telling him on the phone that the anticipation will only make it so much better, that it isn’t his fault and you’d be there when he got back. You said all of the right things and he sent you flowers and that was the start of the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Now, you live together and your toothbrushes share the same countertop and it might not be perfect all of the time but it’s as close as possible, he thinks.

“Hey. Try this for me?” You’re holding out a spoon, a little bit of pasta sauce on the end, your free hand cupped underneath it to catch any that might fall. “Please?”

You never need to say please with him, Aaron thinks, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like the way it sounds in your voice.

He leans towards you, bending to taste what you’re offering him.

“It’s perfect, sweetheart.”

Hotch isn’t lying, but even if it wasn’t perfect, he’d still tell you it was. If only to see the way your face lights up with your smile, the way you bounce a little on your feet.

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goldenhypen · 1 year

Text

⌏⎯ TAKE ME

pairing… jake x fem!reader | genre… fluff | wc… 0.7k | warnings… none

a.n… idk if y’all remember my post ‘gorgeous’ but y’all seemed to rlly like that one, so if you’re looking for smth similar,, i suggest you read this one 👀 no promises it’ll satisfy but i’m just rlly missing this man and needed to do smth about it :’) enjoy <3

jake checked you out from behind, his eyes slowly trailing down your figure, and then back up as you looked at yourself in the mirror, making final touch ups to your appearance as you were almost ready to leave.

"can i come?" you heard, jake’s voice low and soft as he stepped closer to you.

immediately, his hands met your waist, circling around from behind as he pressed his body against yours.

but before letting yourself melt under him, you turned around under his fingertips, placing your hands sternly on his chest and almost pushing him away, "no, it's only the girls today."

ending with a shake of your head, you looked into his eyes again, expecting to meet an understanding gaze, but to your surprise, his stare was strong, intense. at this, you parted your lips to speak, but the words found themselves stuck in your throat, and suddenly whatever you had on your mind escaped your grasp.

he leaned in closer, his eyes intently on your lips. and before you could even react, he was already kissing you, not even a second later, already somehow managing to take your breath away.

the passion poured into the kiss caused your legs to grow weak, but his strong hold prevented you from going anywhere even if you tried.

eventually, he pulled back, leaving you in a daze and whining at the loss, finding yourself leaning in for more.

but his next words stopped you.

"can i come?" he asked again, an almost hint of amusement in his voice.

eyes never leaving his lips, without thought, you nodded, the desire to kiss him again still clouding your mind. and before you knew it, you were grabbing him by the collar and pulling him back in.

however, unable to even fully savour the moment, he pulled back, a cheeky grin plastered on his lips.

"great!" he exclaimed, a look of joy spreading across his face. he leaned in closer again, looking deeply into your eyes. "i’ll get ready then,” he whispered before giving you a wink and walking away.

blinking a few times, you stood there dumbfounded. it took a moment for reality to sink in, and when it did, you realised, he really tricked you.

wasting no time, you followed him frustratingly, upset that he not only fooled you into letting him tag along for something he wasn’t invited to, but he also left you craving for more kisses, and the fact that he left you longing for more fired something up in you.

you stormed after him, opening your mouth to speak, but before your words could escape, he already beat you to it.

"you know, i was only teasing you," he started, turning around with a chuckle, making you feel both relieved yet foolish at the same time. “i wouldn’t ruin today; i know how much you’ve been looking forward to it,” he paused before continuing in a playful tone, “even if it means having fun without me.”

“you wouldn’t ruin it,” you clarified.

“you get the point,” he said. “you look really pretty today, by the way.”

he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. you chuckled, resting your arms around his waist and head on his chest.

“thank you,” you let out softly. “i wish you could come, you know i do.”

“no, i know,” he laughed. “you can just make it up to me by taking me out next time, yeah?”

“you’re acting as though this is some sort of long goodbye—like we’re not going to see each other for a long time,” you smiled.

“i mean, i don’t know about you, but to me, four hours without you feels like forever.”

you pulled away slightly, narrowing your eyes at him before smacking his chest.

resting back down, you let out, voice just above a whisper, “so cheesy.”

you remained there, cherishing his warmth for just a few moments more, but eventually you pulled away.

he noticed as your eyes met his lips, and taking the hint, he quickly met you in the middle.

“i’ll see you later, okay?” you said, resting your forehead on his, a small smile lighting up your face, a sight that never failed to leave jake’s heart doing crazy flips in his chest.

he pulled you in once more, his hands holding the sides of your face.

“continue when you get back?” he suggested as he finally pulled away, a smirk growing on his face.

you left one last quick kiss on his lips.

“i’ll be back before you know it.”

a/n… ahh first work since the hiatus hehe hope this put a smile on your face :)) as always, reblogs, feedback, etc are always always appreciated !! love u mwah <3

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webslingingslasher · 7 months

Note

hey my grandpa just passed away wondering if you could write me a comfort piece

i'm sorry friend :(

peter hasn't let you go for hours, he's kept you curled into his chest so closely the warmth is almost unbearable. almost. because the grief hurts the most.

'everything hurts.' you must've said it a hundred times, but you can't think of any other way to describe it, everything hurt and felt weighed down.

peter kisses your forehead, 'i know.' you don't know how he's kept his sanity, you're nothing but a mess. sometimes talking, sometimes crying, sometimes mad, mostly quiet.

'i'm sorry i'm such bad company. i just really didn't want to be alone.' peter plays with your hair while you slowly nudge your hand under his shirt right above his waistline. it's nothing but a comforting touch.

'it's okay.' peter's not a man of many words tonight, but for some reason you really appreciate it. you think it's because sometimes, no matter what, words mean nothing.

blinking back another round of tears, you sniffle and do anything to erase your mind. 'i know you don't really like talking about him, but, um,' you sniff again, 'do you think you could tell me about one of your favorite moments with your uncle ben?'

fingertips tap over your shoulder, 'sure.' peter's gone quiet for a moment, either trying to think of a memory or build up the courage to open the gate.

'when i was a kid i really, really liked the zoo.' you notice his words are a lot more hushed now. 'ben took me all the time, one year for christmas he bought us season passes. may went with us a few times, but it was our thing. we'd go every weekend, and i had that place memorized to the tee.' even if you can't see it, you can hear the smile in his voice.

'i could tell each one apart too, we'd come up with names and backstories. when i got older we went less and less, i mean, we'd try out the aquarium or one time when i was ten he let me drive around in an empty parking lot. but nothing was like the zoo, it was home.'

peter takes a deep breath, 'when i was fourteen we went for my birthday, and i still had just as much fun as when i was six. we walked around, we made up new names, we had lunch at this weird jungle themed cafe, and we agreed that we'd turn it into a birthday tradition. we'd go every year, no matter what.'

you know what's coming, but you wish he'd stop the story right there. you know he does too.

'that's the last time i ever went to the zoo.'

you don't know how he's not crying, you have small, sorry tears falling down your cheeks, you scrub them clean.

'you were supposed to tell a happy one.' peter tugs you closer, this time you think it's more for him. 'i did. the best moments i had with him are in the zoo, and that's where they belong. i always want that to be our place.'

it's about preserving the good moments, peter doesn't avoid the zoo because it hurts, it's because it feels good to know he's never gone without him.

it may be in bad taste, but you can sympathize.

'i'm sorry you lost your best friend.'

peter kisses your hairline, 'i'm sorry you lost yours.'

it hurts, and it will for a while, but it's really nice to have someone help store it until it's gone.

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker fluff #my writing

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thebearchives · 2 years

Text

damsel in distress | LN4

PAIRING: lando norris x fem!reader

REQUESTED: [] yes [X] no

WORD COUNT: 3.0k

SYNOPSIS: with a strange man following your every move, you can’t help but feel scared of walking alone in the streets of monaco. luckily, daniel is more than happy to volunteer lando as your personal waking buddy.

WARNINGS: being followed, being touched/grabbed without consent (just the arm), mentions of throwing up, reader apologizing literally every second, mostly fluff

A/N: this is my first time writing on such a topic, so feedback is very much appreciated.

as always, don't be a ghost reader!

you had walked these streets countless times. alone, with friends, during the day, and even during the darkest hours of the night. yet, regardless of how many nights you had spent out and about on the streets of your city, you had never once felt the absolute fear and terror that you did tonight.

you were hyperaware of the figure looming in the shadows of the dark, following your every move closely, yet just far enough away to seem unsuspecting to a stranger’s eye. when you slowed down, so did the footsteps behind you. if you sped up, so did he.

you tightened your grip on your phone, the dim screen only confirming how truly alone you were. no one you called had answered you, still too wrapped up in the nightlife of monaco. you couldn’t blame them for not picking up, they were out to have fun. if you hadn’t impulsively agreed to go out with them, maybe you could have avoided all of this. maybe you would have been sitting in your far too expensive flat, in front of your tv watching reruns of your favourite cartoon show.

the footsteps seemed to quicken their pace behind you, each scuff against the cement ringing in your ears as you yourself, quicked your pace as well. you could feel your energy depleting with every rushed step you took. you just wanted to slow down and stop to let your feet rest. god, you were so fucking tired.

a shock travelled up your spine as something brushed against your waist. fingertips. he was so close.

you pushed yourself harder, nearly running now. eyes blurring slightly with tears that were quickly forming in your eyes. your vision went bleary as you blinked, teardrops slipping down your cheeks. you were fucked.

you weren’t sure what happened first, the aggressive grip on your arm, or your face slamming against something hard. you twisted your arm in an attempt to escape, crying out in pain as you felt your skin get pulled. tears spilled out of your eyes one after the other, making it harder to see what was going on around you. you felt claustrophobic, body surrounded by something unknown to you.

it wasn’t until your arm was released that you started to get a bearing of your surroundings. tears still falling, but now at a slower rate as you clutched your arm to your chest. no doubt there would be a bruise there by tomorrow morning.

“-ay? hello, can you hear me?” a voice broke your trance.

you looked up from your spot on the ground, when had you even gotten there? a figure had been crouched down next to you, causing you to flinch back as you realized just how close they were to you.

“hey, you’re okay, you’re safe. don’t worry.” the voice cooed slowly. british, if you weren’t mistaken.

as you became more aware of everything around you, you realized that the figure in front of you was a man. as his words finally registered in your brain, your head shot up, turning to look behind you where you could hear the voices of multiple men talking loudly.

a hand gently placed itself onto your shoulder, calling for your attention, “are you okay?”

it took a beat for you to nod, moving to get up and apologize for whatever had happened. you still weren’t so sure what had happened, as if your mind had blacked out the moment your arm was grabbed.

the same man got up with you, his hands hovering near your body in case your legs decided to give out again.

“i think she’s in shock, mate.” this voice was new, not from the man who stood in front of you.

“yeah, no shit. some dick’s been following her for who knows how long and literally just grabbed her.” another voice joined the mix. this one came from behind you.

his words hung in the air for a second, long enough for you to realize what had happened in the last few moments. your heart raced inside your chest, nausea climbing its way up your throat.

“mate, she doesn’t look good. i think she’s gonna throw up.”

and throw up you did. well, kinda. pushing your body away from the small cluster of men, hunching over the curb of the sidewalk. you soon found yourself dry heaving, having skipped dinner in favour of getting ready for your night out.

a cold bottle of water made its way to your hand as you leaned back and moved away from the curb. you were pleasantly surprised to see it already unscrewed, taking a small sip and wiping your mouth.

you took a few seconds to properly look at the men in front of you. there were five of them, all dressed casually. you noticed one of them shaking his hand, knuckles tinged with red as if he had just gotten back from a fight.

“i am so so sorry,” your voice came out weaker than you were anticipating. and raspier.

the one with the british accent shook his head, “don’t apologize. nothing that happened was your fault.”

another one nodded, “are you feeling okay?”

you frowned, “i think so. i’m not entirely sure what happened though.”

“that’s probably the shock,” you recognized his voice from earlier. accented, maybe french?

“you bumped into our buddy lando here,” the one with the red knuckles started, pointing to the guy with the british accent, “and when we heard your cry, we realized something was wrong so we all jumped into action.”

he flexed his hand, and the guy standing next to him scoffed, “some more than others, clearly.”

knuckles, as you had labelled him in your head, waved him off, “dude ran off before i could really get any good hits on him. but he’s definitely gonna wake up with a shiner. bloody fuckwit.”

“oh my god, i am so sorry. truly, oh my god.” you apologized again, “i didn’t mean to run into you guys. i’m sorry if i ruined your night.”

“i’m glad you did,” the brit, lando, stated. although he quickly realized what it sounded like he was saying, “run into us, that is. i’m glad we were able to help you out. i think we can all agree that our night is far from ruined.”

murmurs of agreement chorused through the group.

“still,” you started, shaking your head. “thank you for helping me out. is there any way i can make it up to you guys?”

“nonsense,” the french one spoke again, “we didn’t help you to get something in return.”

a couple of them nodded.

you couldn’t help but feel awkward, not knowing what to do or say next.

at your helpless look, knuckles, smiled, “well, if you insist,” he started, “how about we get the name of our damsel in distress?”

a small smile fell onto your lips. it was hard to hide it, the energy knuckles gave off was inviting.

“y/n.”

knuckles’ smile grew wider, “well, ms. y/n, i’m daniel.”

the others began dropping their names as your gaze flickered over to them.

the french one was pierre. the one who scoffed at daniel had been max. and the one who had asked if you were okay was charles.

“i’m lan-.”

“i know.” your eyes widened in the realization that you had cut him off, “oh my god, i am so sorry. it’s just that daniel already introduced you when he explained what happened.”

the aforementioned man laughed loudly, lando chuckling alongside him, albeit at a lower decibel.

“all good,” he smiled.

daniel cleared his throat, brushing off the invisible dust from his button up, “well, how about we take this conversation inside?” he gestured his head to the diner behind him, “max has been whining about being hungry and he’s not him when he’s hungry.”

the last part was said in a loud whisper, a very obvious wink being thrown your way. max rolled his eyes, grumbling at the loud australian about how ‘it was one fucking time’.

you shook your head and moved to step back, momentarily forgetting that you were standing near the curb. lando’s hand shot out and grabbed your arm, puling you forward before you even registered your body tipping backwards.

“oh geez, sorry about that. i’ve got two left feet today, it seems.” you gave him a sheepish smile before turning towards the rest of them, “i’d love to, really, and any other day i would have agreed but i think i’ll have to pass on your offer tonight. i should really be getting home.”

charles nodded, “ah, of course, no worries. would you like one of us to drop you off to your place?”

you found yourself shaking your head once again, “no, no. that’s alright. i was already on my way home before everything happened. i don’t live too far from here.”

though the idea of walking home all on your own right now brought you dread, you really did not want to further ruin the night of these very kind men. they had already done so much for you in such a little time.

“are you sure?,” pierre started, “if you really live as close as you say you do, it shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes.”

noticing your apprehension, max spoke up, “i can order you a cab if you’d prefer?”

“no, really, it’s fine, guys.” you gave them a soft smile, “thank you so much for your offers. i’ll be home before you guys even get seated in there.”

“highly unlikely, but i’ll fold.” daniel smiled cheekily, “only if you let lando walk you home.”

the unassuming boy’s eyes narrowed on daniel, the latter throwing him a wink and a thumbs up the moment you looked away from him. lando’s cheeks flushed lightly, tensing up when your eyes met his. how was he supposed to respond?

“yeah, no, really,” god, he was fumbling so bad. screw daniel for putting him on the spot.

“i don’t think any of us would feel comfortable letting you continue walking alone after what just happened.”

lando’s muscles relaxed at the sound of charles’ voice, thanking him in his head. it wasn’t that he wasn’t willing to walk you home, it was just that from the moment lando laid eyes on you, he was entirely entranced by your beauty.

initially, lando had been yelling at himself for thinking about how pretty you were while you were openly having a panic attack in front of him, but now that you were smiling at him like that? well, it wouldn’t take a genius to see how he felt. daniel had proved it.

“are you sure?” truthfully, you had caved the daniel offered lando up to take you home, but the moment charles spoke your inner thoughts, you couldn’t help but finally accept the offer.

lando cleared his throat, time for redemption. “yeah, of course. that way, we’ll all feel better knowing you’re sitting home safe and sound.”

it took another minute to say bye to your newly-made saviours and then, you and lando were off. the first minute or two were rather awkward, both of you wanting to talk to the other but not knowing what to say. it was clear to lando that you had no idea you had just been talking to formula one drivers, and it had been so long since he was able to talk to someone as lando norris and not lando norris, driver for the mclaren f1 team. he had no idea what to say.

you decided to bite the bullet, “i couldn’t help but notice your accent,”

lando laughed breathily, “yeah, um, kinda hard to ignore, i bet.”

you hummed, “do you live here in monaco, or are you just visiting?”

“i do, live here that is,” lando couldn’t form sentences around you, “but i only just moved not too long ago from, well, i guess you can tell from where.”

you laughed lightly, nodding, “did you move for work?”

lando shrugged, “um, well, not really? i used to live closer to work back when i was in england, but travel isn’t really an issue for us.”

“us?”

lando nodded, “yeah, pierre is really the only one who doesn’t live down here. and all of us who do are quite a ways away from our main base.”

you chuckled quietly. lando looked over at you confused, “what?”

you shook your head, a smile plastered on your face, “nothing, nothing. just, you sound very suspicious is all.”

“suspicious?” lando’s mouth was gaped, his appalled expression making you laugh harder, “how am i suspicious?”

“i don’t know! it just seems like you’re trying very hard to not expose your job,” you sobered up, “which is totally fine if you don’t want to share. i’ve had my own fair share of jobs i was embarrassed to tell people about.”

lando giggled, “what, like washing an old man’s arse?”

you faked a gasp, “how did you know?”

“i’ve got my ways.” lando winked at you, eliciting another laugh from your lips. wow, he was on a roll.

“well, to answer your unspoken question,” lando started, “i’m a driver.”

“well, that’s not very exciting.” you frowned, “i was expecting something more.”

“maybe if you let me finish,” lando playfully scowled at you.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know you were still speaking after the long pause you took. usually long pauses mean the person is done talking.”

“yeah, yeah,” lando rolled his eyes, a small yelp escaping him when your elbow met his ribs.

“well, then what kind of driver are you?” you prodded.

“i’m a racecar driver for mclaren.”

“shut up, no way.” you stopped walking for a minute.

lando laughed, grabbing your hand to tug you forward, “yes way.”

“you?!”

this time it was lando who stopped, “what do you mean, ‘you?’?!”

“there’s no way you drive a racecar. i refuse to believe it.”

lando shook the hand he was holding, whining out a quick “what? whyyyy?’

“lando, you’re gonna rip my arm out.”

he dropped your hand in favour of crossing his arms, “okay, now tell me why.”

you shook your head in mock exasperation, “i don’t know, you just don’t seem like the type to be a racecar driver.”

“did any of the guys look it?”

you shot your head up to meet lando’s eyes, the shock plastered on your face clear, “they’re drivers too?”

lando dropped his arms, laughing at the way your eyes widened and jaw slacked open. you blinked, taking his laughter as a yes, “woah.”

the pair of you began walking again, the air around you quiet once more, but not awkward this time. the silence caused lando’s thoughts to swarm his head. did knowing he was a racecar driver make you uncomfortable? what if you hated f1 and now that you knew he was a driver, you hated him too? what if-

“you know, now that i think about it, max kinda looks like he would drive a racecar.”

lando’s head shot towards you. he spluttered, “max??”

you nodded, “yeah, he’s got that gruff look about him…or maybe that was the hunger daniel was talking about.”

“nah, that’s just his regular face.” lando took a second to absorb your words, “wait, so you think max is a driver because he’s gruff?”

your nod caused him to scoff, “what, so i’m not gruff? am i not manly enough to be a driver?”

“what?” you let out a surprised laugh, “lando, what? no, no, i just don’t know how to explain it. you guys are just, different.”

“now, you sound like my mom trying to console eight-year-old me after i lost in a karting race.” lando tsked.

“oh, shut up.”

the two of you bickered for the rest of the way to your apartment. what was a mere 10 minute walk felt like an hour with lando. you couldn’t help but wish you lived further away, not wanting to end your conversation with the driver. you reluctantly pulled lando to a stop in front of the glass doors of your apartment building.

“this is me,” you awkwardly played with the ring on your finger.

“wonder if the boys are even seated yet,” lando joked, reminding you of the very obvious lie you had told the group.

you smacked his arm lightly, “shut up, i didn’t want to impose.”

lando caught your hand, squeezing it lightly, “i told you, there’s nothing to impose. i offered, didn’t i?”

“well, technically,” you started, laughing at the way lando rolled his eyes.

“thank you, though.” you squeezed his hand, “i definitely felt a lot safer knowing i wouldn’t be walking home alone.”

lando gave you a gentle smile, his eyes travelling down to your intertwined hands. this was his chance.

he looked back up to you, “how about i give you my number?”

at your surprised look, he continued, “and then the next time you’re all alone and in need of some help, or even just company, you can text me.”

with how loud your heart was beating, you hoped lando couldn’t feel your pulse through your hand. you nodded, using your free hand to pull out your phone. you watched as your screen illuminated his face, his cheeks tinted red but only just. a buzz from his own pocket indicated that he had sent himself a text, ‘just in case i’m feeling lonely too’, he had said.

lando gave your hand one last squeeze before letting go, “have a good night, y/n.”

“you too, lando.”

and with a sweet smile, he watched as you walked through the glass doors, wishing you would turn back and look at him once more.

you did.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #lando #norris #ln4 #fluff #ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ writes #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #charles leclerc #pierre gasly #1k

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gotham-ruaidh · 2 months

Text

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart || Chapter 17C: I’m Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned || Chapter 18: Turn The Page || Chapter 19A: When You're Alone, Do You Let Go? ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 19B: Heading For A Spin

Here I go and I don't know why I spin so ceaselessly Till I lose my sense of gravity

- Patti Smith, “Dancing Barefoot” (1979) [click here to listen]

Pittsburgh || Early October, 1988

Five knocks had been their signal all tour.

He had told her that she could just walk in – that she was always welcome in his dressing room, that nobody else would disturb them. Yet she still didn’t feel comfortable doing that – respecting his space, and the quiet time he needed to collect himself before every show.

Never mind that these days, more often than not Jamie would bolt the door so that they could love each other quickly and quietly before he went on stage.

She was always ready for him – but tonight, when he answered the door, she knew he would need something different.

At about half of the concerts this tour he would wear a simple black tank top with his jeans. For the other half, he’d forgo a shirt entirely. Not that Claire minded either way, though she did love how the tattoo of her name over his heart would be proudly on display for the world to see.

Tonight he had opted for no tank – which is how she quickly noticed the rapid rise and fall of his chest, as he took very quick and shallow breaths. Eyes wide and unfocused, piercing into hers, impossibly blue amid his black eye makeup.

“Jamie,” she breathed, rushing inside and closing the door. “I’m here. Tell me.”

He swallowed, pushing her against the dressing room wall. Hips flush with hers as her cool hand rested over his heart, fingertips tracing her name inked on his body.

“I…” he gaped, then closed his mouth. Breathing deeply. Eyes wild. “I…Claire…”

“I’m here,” she repeated softly. “I love you. Do you love me?”

“Forever,” he choked. Hand fluttering under her Print t-shirt, thumbnail digging into the bone of her hip.

“I’m here, Jamie. I’m not going anywhere.”

He swallowed.

“Let me call Raymond right now. We have his home number for a reason, that’s what he told us when we called last week. We have time before the show. Everybody can wait. You have a phone in here, right?”

He shook his head. "No. Not tonight."

She frowned. “Did you take anything?”

“No,” he replied instantly. “No. No. Definitely no. Wouldn’t do that to you. To us.”

Her fingertips skimmed down the inside of his arm, and his gaze followed. She turned her hand palm upward. “Do you see your letter on me, Jamie? The one you inked yourself, in Boston?”

“Yes,” he breathed. Reached a fingertip to touch the J tattooed below her thumb.

“Focus on that. How much I love you. And do you remember when I inked my letter on you?”

He turned over his hand to proudly show her the C tattooed below his right thumb. “Your touch. Always with me.” He swallowed. “Every note I play, it’s with me.”

“That’s right, Jamie. I’m always with you, and you’re always with me.” She reached up to caress his cheek, smiling at the rasp of his stubble. “We have time. Do you want to love?”

Her hand drifted down across his chest and rested on the belt loops of his jeans. Waiting. Giving him the choice.

He leaned down for a long, slow, sweet kiss.

She felt the tension seep from his body.

“Want to wait to love you tonight,” he whispered against her lips, hips still flush with hers. Teasing. “But only if you can wait, too.”

She nodded, kissing his lower lip. “I can. But I’ll be thinking about it the whole show. How amazing it will be, later. Will you, too?”

He deepened the kiss. “Fuck yes.”

“And not here,” she gasped between kisses. “Back at the hotel. I want to take my time.”

He bit the side of her neck.

Three pounds on the door. Colum’s signal for five minutes until showtime. Because he knew better than to barge in. The one time he had…well, that was enough.

Jamie pulled away only slightly, his body still pressing Claire’s against the wall. He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. Breathing deeply. Inhaling the scent of her skin.

“What happened?”

He sighed. “One of the fans at the meet and greet told me that I inspired him to get clean. Go to AA. Deal with his shit. He actually thanked me.”

“Oh, my love.” She kissed him. “That’s so wonderful.”

He sought shelter in the safety of her neck. “I fucking did that, Claire. I can’t believe it. It's...it's unreal.”

She nodded, arms winding tight around his shoulders. “You did do that, Jamie. That’s so amazing.”

“He was so fucking happy. So proud. I didn’t know what to say.”

“That’s all right. You don’t need to say anything. Knowing is enough.”

He kissed her collarbone. “I just can't get over it. For all this time, I've only thought that all that shit I used to do could only have one result. That it was all bad. And now it's messing with my head to know that my fuck-ups actually helped someone. Kind of makes me happy in a weird way that all that shit happened, because it helped him.”

She carded her fingers through his hair. “It makes it worth it. Will you promise to tell Raymond about this?”

He nodded. “Yeah. We need to talk with him about this. Not gonna lie, it's fucking with my head a bit. Because I’m nobody’s hero, Claire. Nobody in this world who has any sense should look up to me. I’m an addict, and a musician who just got insanely lucky.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.”

Jamie smiled. Thrust his pelvis into hers. Smiling when she whimpered.

“I think it's impossible that with all the records we've sold, and with all the sold out shows this tour, that only that one person has changed their thinking. So what about..."

He swallowed, a bit unsure. Claire ran her thumb over his cheek.

"Maybe...maybe I do something official. Like, launch a sobriety support program for fans. Encourage them to have sober meet-ups with each other.”

She smiled, ecstatic. “That would be so amazing, Jamie. We should tell Colum - he can get the publicity people on it right away. You’ve got a voice – you should use it.”

Four loud knocks.

“Kiss your bride goodbye, Jamie! Everyone is waiting!” Colum yelled through the door.

Claire smiled. “You’re gonna do so great tonight. I’ll be right there with you.”

Jamie smiled. “I do have a voice, Claire. And I sing for you.”

He darted in for a kiss. And another. And another.

Neither heard the door open, until –

“For fuck’s sake!” Colum screamed. “I said kiss her, not swallow her!”

Jamie pulled away. Light. Happy.

“See you after the show,” she smiled.

“Can’t wait,” he grinned. Slung his guitar over his shoulder. Waited for her to find and pick up her medical bag. Gripped her hand. Led her to the stage.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #little bit better than i used to be

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