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qwimchii · 7 months

Note

i was hoping to put forward a request, if that’s okay? 👉🏻👈🏻 angst (or hurt/comfort?) and smut with ghost? and i’m totally not projecting here but — reader has a hard time finishing, either by themselves or with someone? and when they’re with someone, they get so worried about taking too long and not being able to finish or even feeling good and they apologize for taking too long and it dissolves into them crying and apologizing more and mentioning how they think they’re broken and there’s something wrong with them and it kinda makes them think ghost will leave for someone else because that’s what everyone else has done and basically just ghost being soft and sweet and understanding and taking his time with reassurance and praise and yeah… gonna go hide now 🥲

𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘤 — 5k

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘴, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵/𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥…

note: omllllll!!!! 💞 i am so sorry for taking so long to write this request but this is so sweet and cute 😭 thank you sm for requesting!! ><

pt 2, pt 3

Simon Riley had been your boyfriend for maybe a month now. or maybe two weeks. or maybe three months, you decided finally, sipping your water with closed eyes, willing the frustrated bounce of your knee to settle.

of course, picking your head up and looking at the entrance of the restaurant one last time, that frustration redoubled, and you watched your knee bounce with a mind of its own.

setting the drink back on its coaster, you drew random patterns into the floral tablecloth with a pout. Simon had chosen this restaurant. Simon had initiated communication with you—mindblowing as it was—just last night when you were scrolling through instagram in bed.

the notification had ballooned over a post of an old friend from college traveling in europe, and immediately, you had squealed, pressing your phone to your chest to stop the race of your thrumming heart. you made yourself count out two minutes—at least two, before you responded.

— Dinner tmrw at the diner on 6th ave?

— sure!! good to hear from you :))

— what time??

— 7.

it was curt, it was short, it was sweet, but it gave you all the motivation you needed to power through the day and weasel your way into the diner, earlier to the occasion than usual. now, it was half past seven. now, you were playing with the tablecloth of the booth and feeling stupid and sorry for yourself.

stupid because you had sorely missed Simon since he went radio silent for over a month. sorry for yourself because you had thought you were at least close enough for him to text you beforehand.

definitively, you knew you had met the brit five months ago when he moved into the empty apartment adjacent to your own. he crowded every entrance he stood in, so massive and hulking when the elevator doors that you startled with a squeak, dropping the cardboard box and all the items scattering out over the carpet floor.

you had flushed with embarrassment, whole body heating up as you scrambled to stuff all the items back into the box with a string of apologies. he had dropped to your side without a word, putting back a pair of socks, your old band t-shirt from high school, and tennis shoes that had gone gray with discoloration. he hadn’t even bothered to one-over your personal items, but you were scrambling for an explanation anyway.

“donations for vets,” you said with nervous laughter. “i donate every year.”

“vets?” he reiterated, and you looked up into his face, eyeing the black surgical mask on his face carefully, brown eyes a murky kind of gray-ish beneath blonde eyebrows and his hood drawn up above that.

“mhmm,” you squeaked, suddenly wary of the stranger in front of you.

when he said nothing more, you asked him, “any veterans in the family?”

then he just stared at you and you blushed, feeling stupid for saying anything at all but—

“my grandfather,” he said slowly. “and my great grandfather.”

“nice,” you choked out, unsure what to say as you searched the carpet of the last of your remnants.

then, he added, “i’m in the military as well.”

just when you were about to bolt, intimidated by the sheer size of him and his eerie unfamiliar presence in your apartment complex, it was like he read your mind to introduce himself.

“Simon Riley. new neighbor.”

you nodded slowly, giving him your name back and edging your fingers under the cardboard box, heaving it up into your arms.

“nice to meet you,” you said, giving him a weak smile from over the top of the box. he tilted his head at you, eyes flitting from the box to you.

when a prolonged silence ensued, you turned on your heel and stepped toward the elevator before you jerked around again.

“thank you for your service,” you squeaked, scurrying toward the elevator and feeling awkward when he just watched you from the hallway. you waved as the doors closed, watching him slip his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

with one long look, he turned and prowled down the hallway.

that was five months ago. two months later, after endless awkward encounters of wordless greetings with him, the plumbing in your bathroom sink had exploded, flooding the floor in a puddle of water and spraying over the front of your white dress.

in a panic, you went to your next door neighbor Simon who opened the door upon your third set of rapid knocks.

you looked up to his massive form in the entrance, suddenly aware of how the front of your soaked dress had become sheer when you asked him to help you.

he helped. and then you asked him to get drinks at the bar around the corner as a thank you. then when that became a regular occurrence, things just got more confusing.

it felt exclusive. maybe. you thought it felt exclusive when a man approached you in the bar, gearing up for a casual conversation with a sly smirk, but Simon was always at your back in an instant, a large, warm hand on your waist and his words in your ear.

she’s taken.

your mind spun after the first time it happened. taken?

whirling around on your heel after the man left with a low grumble and scowl, Simon just blinked down at you from behind his surgical mask, squeezing your waist with both hands before he was sinking back down into his seat, hulking as he leaned over the bar.

when the same happened a few more times, you didn’t question it, thinking it was maybe just a perk of the friendship. he staves off a couple creepy men at the bar and you pay for drinks.

or at least that’s how you thought it worked until he started sliding his card across the counter to the bartender to claim the tab before you could even get a word out.

you were especially confused when he knocked at your apartment door one night. you opened it to find him void of the hoodie usually slung up and over his head, blonde hair hanging down his forehead, and a black shirt in its place. that’s when you saw the thick black ink winding down the tattoo sleeve of his arm, and your eyes darted over it with a blush, before you were inviting him in.

he had smelled something baking, he clarified, craning his neck into the kitchen. that made you giddy because you hadn’t taken him for someone nosy, but you entertained it nonetheless, assuming he just had an insatiable sweet tooth for cookies.

another part of you hoped he just had a sweet tooth for you.

then the baking became a regular occurrence. you’d bake him all sorts of sweets while he watched you from the little table in your kitchen, staring from behind that black mask of his while you prattled about your day and he took it all in silently. somewhere along the way, after so many nights of him chewing behind the mask, he ditched it completely, and you could watch him devour your brownies in a few bites without the annoying fabric in the way.

the new schedule had become very regular until it was baking night and he didn’t show up to your door. rolling the tenseness from your shoulders, you sent him a quick text, saying you would bring over the sweets in the morning to his apartment.

when he didn’t respond to that, a little nervous bubble of anxiety rooted in your chest. you found out from your landlord days later that Simon would be away for work, and that hurt more than you wanted it to. if he had taken the time to at least notify your landlord, he could’ve done the same for you… couldn’t he?

unless he didn’t think about you that way. but you were so sure—from the quick glances you shared, his gentle touches as he brushed past you in your kitchen, or the possessive grip on your waist at the bar, or just the way he was so relaxed around you meant something.

those were your thoughts that ran in circles as you sat at the diner booth. the waiter checked on your table every once and a while, sending you nervous glances ever since you said that you had a date… or a friend. or something like that.

you felt stupid for accepting Simon’s proposal so quickly, even after he had ghosted you for weeks. even then, you had dolled yourself up anyways, picking out the new dress you got last weekend and doing your hair and makeup. you buried your face in your hands, not looking up when you heard the chime of the diner opening.

when you heard a familiar, low and grating accent, your head snapped up to see Simon standing by the entrance and talking to the waiter, gesturing to you as the waiter just nodded.

Simon strode over to you, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and dressed in his military fatigues, half his face behind in a black surgical mask.

you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you when you reached your senses, heart soaring as you scrambled to stand. your hands twitched against the table when he stopped in front of you, dropping his duffle bag to the floor.

had he come straight from the airport? for you? you felt like your mind was spinning, but you forced it to still, desperately not wanting to jump to any strange conclusions…

swallowing down your thoughts, you said slowly, “it’s been a while.”

looking up into his murky brown eyes had never been so comforting.

“it has,” he affirmed, hands clenching and unclenching by his sides.

for a long moment, you both just stood there in silence, staring at each other and unsure what to do.

eyes darting down to his torso, you could feel the warmth of his body in the close proximity, and you felt so tempted to just touch him.

you outstretched a hand to brush over his clothing, and when he didn’t move away, you pressed your knuckles into his abdomen, amazed to feel him solid and real. then you wrapped yourself around his torso, giving him a tight hug, cheek pressed against his strong chest.

immediately, he engulfed you, squeezing you back.

“missed you,” you admitted, screwing your eyes shut.

you felt his nose press into the crown of your hair. “m’sorry m’late, love.”

“s’fine,” you sniffled, feeling stupid when tears pricked up in your eyes. when you pulled back, you swiped at them with the back of your hand, startled when he reached forward to brush his fingers across your wet cheeks, squishing the chub of your face lightly.

he looked at you with such a softness that you almost melted, feeling nervous because you had never seen him look at you like that before.

then, as you both slid into the booth, you chided him in between sniffles, “don’t do that to me again.”

don’t leave me in the dark again, was what you meant, and you knew he understood what you meant when he nodded curtly.

the dinner went smoothly. more than you could imagine. or maybe you were just overwhelmed with the exhausting joy that Simon was still just the same since before he left two months ago—lowly grunted non-verbal responses as he munched on a platter of fish and chips, stealing a couple of your fries after he devoured his plate at a startling pace, and some rumbles of half-sentences, leaning on his elbow as he watched you ramble with excitement and sip on your milkshake every now and then.

when you accidentally got a smidge of whipped cream on your nose, he reached across the table to wipe it off, cutting through your words mid-sentence. you thanked him with a blush, shifting over the booth, just blushing harder when your shoes knocked against his under the table.

leaving felt smooth too—walking back to the apartment complex just a couple blocks away. even in the darkness of the night, you felt safe tucked near his side, enjoying his presence so close to your side and feeling disappointed when you reached the hallway you shared in the apartment complex.

he stopped by your door and you fumbled with your dress, struggling for words.

“come inside,” you offered, though it sounded more like a plea. your eyes flitted from his face to the duffle bag on his shoulder, hands twisting into the fabric of your dress.

“i know you must be tired but—”

“m’not,” he assured, squaring his shoulders. you nodded dumbly.

“i can bake brownies?” you squeaked, and he blinked down at you.

“s’reason why i’m here, love.”

at that you blushed, opening the apartment and throwing your jacket on the couch, moving to rifle through the kitchen.

“it won’t take long i promise,” you called from behind the fridge door, snatching the butter and eggs from it.

closing the door to turn to the counter, you jolted when Simon materialized beside you, boots, mask, and the jacket of his fatigues off, reaching above you to open a cabinet. your eyes darted over the ink designs of his muscled arm.

“flour and sugar’s here, right?” he asked, and you squeaked a yes, ducking beneath his arm to put the butter and eggs on the counter before grabbing a mixing bowl and baking pan from a lower cabinet.

once all the necessary items were strewn across the counter, you measured out the dry ingredients, dumping them into the mixing bowl. beside you, Simon leaned back against the edge of the kitchen sink, arms crossed as he watched you.

you were hyper-aware of his presence, hands jittery, confused because he always sat at the kitchen table to watch you. he never got this close and personal, uncrossing his arms to slide a hand over the counter right by where your hip leaned against it.

from your peripheral, you glanced at him, finding him already staring down at you.

“can i help?” he asked, voice gruff, and you turned your head to stare at him in dismay. this was new. very new.

“sure,” you choked out, scooting over so he could help you measure out the ingredients. he filled the space easily, arm pressed against yours in the little space.

you blushed. this was very very new.

he cracked an egg on the edge of the bowl, and you watched the yellow glop plop into the flour.

playing off the whole situation as a joke, you laughed nervously as you mixed the wet ingredients into the bowl. “miss my baking that much?”

you bit down on your lip, unable to look at him, just focusing on the churn of brown batter in the mixing bowl. when you felt him lean in, his strong bicep against yours, you muffled a yelp.

“‘course.”

“really?” you asked, pouring the batter into the greased up pan.

for good measure, you dipped a finger into the batter and tasted it, eyes flickering up to Simon. it was sweet.

he stared down at you, an imperceptible, dark look on his face as he leaned over and dipped his thumb into the batter, then swiped the gooey brown substance over your cheek.

“oops.” there was a smugness in his voice that his face smothered, expression blank when he gripped your jaw tight.

you gasped when he turned your face and leaned down to lick you.

the textured muscle of his tongue pressed into the curve of your flesh, licking away the sweet taste from your cheek.

then, he leaned back with a hum. “i like sweet things.”

you clutched at his wrist keeping your jaw firmly in place, wide-eyed and heart beating out of your chest. you watched his finger dip back in the batter and reached up to your lips, spreading the sugary sweet batter over your lower lip.

you squeaked, unable to look anywhere but his bare face, rugged and handsome in the low light.

“may i?” he asked, eyes flitting down to your lips, and you couldn’t even nod in his hold, just a low, breathy yes on your lips that he swallowed, tongue sucking the traces of batter on your lips.

you whimpered into his mouth, clutching at his shirt as he angled your head with a soft touch, sliding his hand on your jaw to your neck, just resting there. that spurred on a familiar burn in your stomach, and you squirmed in his hold.

when he leaned back, you were breathless and panting with flushed cheeks.

“sweet,” he rasped, like he was approving the taste as he licked over his lips.

from that point on, you didn’t really remember how you got to your bedroom, Simon’s hands edging up the hem of your dress beneath him, knuckles drawing a warm trail up to your hips as he sucked on the skin of your neck.

the only thing you could do was whine and squirm under his weight, legs and arms pinning you down as he did what he liked, giving you sweet kisses that made you feel all hazy.

you watched his head dip beneath the fabric of your dress and you gasped when you felt his lips against your thighs, skipping where you needed him most, and then against your stomach and the flesh of your breasts.

and all throughout the pleasurable haze, your fingers curled into the sheets, nails digging into the bed because you were beyond nervous.

you knew this would happen eventually—that Simon would end up in your bed or the other way around. kissing him was a dream. having him caging you against the bed with his heady weight was a dream.

sliding a hand over his back, his rushed movements slowed against your skin, taking the time to suck carefully around your pebbled nipples that had your hips bucking up with a whimper.

your mind spun. but you were so nervous.

it was all you could think about as he descended back down between your thighs, both of his big arms curling around your thighs to lock you in place against the bed.

words rung your mind loud and clear—what the hell is wrong with you?

when Simon dipped a thumb beneath the top of your panties, the words shook you again.

what the hell is wrong with you?

you hadn’t even noticed how still and quiet you had grown until his head perked up between your thighs, pupils blown wide. he swiped a thumb over the soaking entrance of your panties, drawing a whimper from your throat.

“what is it?” he asked, voice so throaty and rough that you shivered with want. you had wanted this for so long.

“nothing,” you whispered, tugging his head back down between your thighs, but he didn’t budge, frowning at you.

“tell me,” he probed, “m’not touchin’ you if you don’t, sweet thing.”

sweet thing.

swallowing hard, you shifted against the bed. “m’just nervous.”

“yeah?” he stroked the plush, soft skin of your inner thigh, before pressing his lips to it. “don’t worry. i’ll make you feel good.”

you nodded, biting down on your lip, though his words didn’t quell any of the raging anxiety thrumming within your chest, even when he kissed the wet fabric stretched over your cunt, nosing through your folds and his hot breath against you.

lifting up your hips with ease, he tugged a pillow beneath you.

“comfy?” he asked, hooking two fingers beneath your panties and sliding it down your thighs.

“uh-huh,” you gasped, back arching when he ducked between your legs and pressed the pink muscle of his tongue flat against your cunt.

“good,” he grunted against you, pecking your swollen clit before swirling his tongue around it, and building a steady, delicious pace that had you hiccuping moans.

your hands snaked through his hair, gripping the blonde curls tight and pulling, startling when he groaned in response, the tremors going straight from the back of his throat and into your clit.

you ground against his face and he purred in approval. “tha’s it, sweet thing.”

you took the pleasure and rode it, pushing yourself further and further to the edge, or at least you thought you were, seeing no end in sight for the sensations wracking your body. every passing moment felt too long, and you could practically feel the irritation roiling off Simon in waves.

even though you couldn’t see his face, just could hear his soft noises of approval against your cunt, it was like you knew he was growing impatient.

frustrated, you huffed a whine, that anxiety in your chest squashing half the pleasurable experience. he reached up and pressed down on the lower part of your tummy, intensifying it all over again, making you gasp as your head fell back.

“relax,” he mumbled, playing with your clit as he pressed his tongue into your cunt, humming as he tasted you.

it was overwhelming. too overwhelming, and you couldn’t help the tears that pricked up in your eyes as you were torn between finishing and feeling good and pleasing Simon and—

a little sob broke from your throat, and he went still between your legs.

you covered your face with your hands, digging your palms into your eyes and muffled the sounds falling from your lips.

why were you crying?

brows pinched together, you scrunched up your face. “sorry, sorry, just keep going—”

you cut off when a sob choked your throat, refusing to look at Simon and withering when he stayed silent, feeling really fucking stupid as you just cried in the bed.

“i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whimpered, feeling him tug your dress back down over your thighs and hike your panties back up your hips.

you expected him to leave, ready to feel the weight of him against you on the bed disappear, and his heavy footsteps through the apartment, then the slam of the door behind him.

and you did—the dip in the bed lifted and you heard his footsteps edge around the bed.

then, you gasped when he slid into the bed beside you, arm circling beneath your waist and pulling you flush to his chest, breath right against your ear.

“what’s wrong, sweet thing?” he sighed, though it didn’t sound irritated, just tired as he sunk into the bed beside you.

your breath stilled, the cries dying in your throat as you twisted to look back at him. his gaze was soft as he peered over your shoulder, squeezing you between both arms.

“what?” you croaked, and he leaned over you to press a kiss to your cheek, squishing you into the bed.

“what’s wrong?” he repeated, thumb drawing circles against your clothed tummy.

“nothing,” you said, and he made a low noise of disapproval, pressing his face against the side of your head.

clutching at his arms holding your waist, caging you to him, you choked out the words.

“i just…” you turned your head from him, tears spilling from your eyes and onto the sheets. “i wanna be good for you.”

he hummed against your ear, squeezing you tighter. “you are so good for me, love.”

“no, i meant…” you huffed, sniffling with a frustrated sound in the back of your throat.

“i take too long,” you squeaked, avoiding his eyes. “there’s something wrong with me.”

a sob pierced your chest. “i think i’m broken.”

you turned in his arms and buried your face in his chest, embarrassed as you soaked his shirt with tears, muffled the sharp noises of your throat against his solid body. he curled around you, hand rubbing down your back.

“who put those ideas in your pretty head?”

his voice was deceptively soft, though you heard the threat that lay under it, and you shivered.

“my ex boyfriend.”

his body went tense against you.

“look at me luvie.”

you lifted your head and let him kiss you, tasting salty and sweet from the slick of you still in his mouth, as he brushed away the tears on your face.

when he pulled back and you looked over the curves of his face, the depth of his dark eyes, you admitted to him softly, “i don’t want you to leave me.”

it was such a small whimper that you don’t think he would’ve heard you, but from the way his face crunched into a frown you knew that he had.

“m’not going anywhere,” he promised, pushing the hair from your forehead. “m’right here.”

you whimpered, pulling him back down for a kiss that was wet and hot, teeth knocking against yours when he pressed you further into the bed.

“lemme make you feel good,” he whispered, and you clutched at his arm wound tight around your waist, the other creeping up to cup your breast.

“please,” you whimpered, and he hummed into your lips.

“when’s the last time you touched yourself?” he asked, lips trailing down to your neck, his large hand edging down to brush over your pelvis.

“long time,” you squeaked, gasping when his hand snuck beneath your dress, rucking it up so it pooled around your waist.

“c-can’t do it myself,” you admitted, screwing your eyes shut when his fingers slipped beneath the band of your panties. “doesn’t feel good.”

“yeah? bet your ex couldn’t make you feel good either,” he mumbled, either to you or yourself you couldn’t tell, mind dizzy and somewhere up high when his forefinger gently brushed over the shell of your clit. “bet your he didn’t even know how to touch a woman. how to make her cum.”

you whimpered, hips bucking into his hand, and you could feel him smile against your neck.

“s’okay, baby. i’ll make you cum.”

his fingers circled your swollen clit, other hand fondling the sensitive plush of your tits. as you squirmed against his touch, little breathy noises leaving your lips, you could feel his hard cock pressing into the curve of your ass. you whimpered at the sheer size of it.

“please, Simon,” you gasped, clutching at his wrist as he played and flicked at your clit, speeding up then slowing down and dragging you through a slew of different body wracking sensations, leaving you so whiney and sensitive that your thighs started to shake and twitch.

your ex boyfriend had never given you so much attention like this—just honing in on his own pleasure, degrading you when you tried to chase your own. it became something you dreaded. something you didn’t want and forced yourself through, faking orgasms and artificial, pitched moans.

it was so different from Simon that you felt delirious, blissed out as real, loud whines broke through your throat, riding his hand just wanting more and more.

“more,” you sobbed, burying your face into the sheets, jolting when he played and pinched at your swollen nipples.

“want you to cum on my hand first, sweet thing,” he whispered, and you almost cried real tears.

he huffed a laugh into your ear.

“feel that good?” he cooed, and you nodded against the sheets, wiggling your hips in his hand.

“c-can’t,” you whined, shivering when he made a noise of disapproval.

“yes you can,” he said, low and throaty, licking over your ear. “i don’t care how long it takes, baby. i can play with this pretty cunt all night.”

you moaned, grinding down into his hand, eyes rolling back into your head as he abused your clit, crushing it beneath his fingers.

“you’re gonna cum on my hand, and then i’m gonna stretch you out with my fingers, yeah? then you’re gonna cum on my fingers, and i’m gonna fuck two more orgasms out of you. how does that sound, sweet thing?”

“Simon—” you choked, whole body going still when you finally reached a sharp peak, shaking and twitching and moaning softly through your whole orgasm that made you see a blinding white.

he groaned in your ear, so filled with pleasure it sounded like he came alongside you.

“there you go, baby, good girl. so good f’me.”

your hearing felt muffled when you resurfaced, blinking your eyes open, sleepy and muscles lax against the bed. he was petting at your naval, peppering little kisses and kitten licks along your neck and shoulders.

“see? that wasn’t so hard, luvie,” he whispered in your ear, making a shiver slither down your spine.

“mhmm,” was all you could get out, pliable as he slipped from your side and moved you to your back, tipping your knees open as he dove between your legs.

you looked down, watching him drink up the cum from your pussy, slurping loudly and sucking on your twitchy clit, your hips squirming in his hold.

“so sweet,” he practically growled, and you whined in response, trying to push his head away.

when he finally relented, he sat back, licking over his lips before tugging the shirt over his head. in the dim lighting, you could see scars littered over him, naval blessed with dark hair and a toned stomach that made your mouth water.

“think you can do that four more times, baby?”

when you shook your head, he only smirked, crawling back over you and pressing the crotch of his fatigues against your sopping pussy, grinding his painfully hard, big cock against your aching entrance.

“yes you can,” he said, low and throaty. “m’gonna make you, sweet thing. you’re gonna be coming on this cock all night long.”

taglist: @ivybeeloved

#simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost smut #ghost angst #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #simon riley angst

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cherubfae · 2 months

Note

I'm the anon who asked if you write for mammon and adam. I just sent the ask in, but regardless of your reply i was wondering of you could write the hazbin cast +helluva boss cast (the ones you write obviously) with a super sleepy slot like s/o? Like they sleep all the dam time and are still tired as hell, so tired they literally fall to the ground while walking in silence for too much, they sit down for a second and go out cold. They move so slow it's incredible, theyre always super clingy and always hanging on by their shoulder, It's very concerning.

lmao this made me cackle. Here ya go, sweets! Apologies if you wanted something serious, I literally couldn't 😭😭 just had lunch with my mama to celebrate her belated bday and I'm very full

sloth!like partner || hazbin/helluva boss x reader

tags: fluff, comedy, this is probably mostly crack lmao, established relationships

Alastor

Okay but remember him with the Egg Bois? That's essentially him waiting for you to get ready for your date. What feels like an eternity was only roughly thirty seconds. He hopes you haven't fallen asleep in the bathroom.

"Dearest... I could just teleport you to places with my shadow provided I'm somewhere near." He suggests. It takes him a while to get used to any sort of physical contact so he's not crazy about the clinginess and does what he can to establish boundaries if and when he feels comfortable doing so.

Lucifer

Haha! You're so adorable! He actually quite likes having you on his arm, though sometimes not literally. It's comical watching you climb him and then slowly lose your energy halfway to his shoulders and slow-motion crash land towards the ground. Rinse and repeat.

Husk

By now he's quite used to you falling asleep, especially on him. You tucker yourself out so easily, he wonders what tricks Belphegor has up their sleeves lately. Husk loves you for who you are, but he is rather curious if there's anything that can cure or at least lessen your narcoleptic behaviors.

Angel Dust

Constantly cracking jokes and puns. Some of them can come off as a little mean though it's never intended to hurt your feelings. Though, he does know not to make the 'slow-burn romance' jokes every time you guys have a date night.

Vox

He's gotten used to you being constantly sleepy and rather sluggish. He does wonder if you are, in fact, a Hellborn from Sloth instead of a Sinner sometimes or if you drew the short straw. Vox is typically okay if you're constantly sleepy and a bit sluggish, but he is a fast-paced guy and likes all aspects of his life to progress at a decent speed; romance included.

Blitzø

Deadass he's watching you slowly drag yourself face-down along the ground with a soft skrrrr skrrrr along the cement. Honestly he's surprised you made it on Earth as long as you did. This was amusing but the more you, literally, drag on Blitz isn't sure what he should do. He's probably gonna start driving everywhere. Gotta keep pollutin' bb.

Loona

With how often you sleep, Loona isn't sure how you still manage to be so tired all the time. It honestly perplexes her but she's learned to roll with it. If you're moving too slowly for her liking, she'll pick you up and carry you off like royalty-- or if you're small like Millie, Loona is gonna commit you to her backpack transit indefinitely.

Striker

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

"Ya'llright, darlin'?" He asked with a raised brow. You just ate shit and aren't currently really doing anything about getting back into the upright position. Striker's tail swishes curiously and he gently prods you with his boot, heaving a sigh when you move.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin imagines #hazbin hotel x you #helluva boss x you #helluva boss imagines #helluva boss x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #angel dust x reader #husk x reader #vox x reader #blitz x reader #loona x reader #cherubfae 2024

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cal-flakes · 8 months

Text

╰┈➤ soft touches in the morning

warnings: just fluff.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

a muffled groan from beneath the covers met her ears, prompting her eyes to widen in excitement as she quickly turned over, pulling the blanket back. “rafe?” she squeaked, relief washing over her as the seeming forever-lasting boredom was finally over. y/n was an early bird, yet didn’t like getting out of bed without him, so her only choice was to wait patiently until he opened his eyes.

yawning, he lifted his head from the pillow slightly, taking in the ear to ear grin on her face, covered slightly by the tangles of her hair. “hi baby..” he cooed tiredly, squinting as the glaring sun attacked his eyes. “c’mere..” he rasped, snaking his arms around her waist before pulling her weight on top of him. “rafe..we have to get up..” she whined, huffing as her actions contradicted her words. shuffling down, she rested her head in the crook of his neck while her nails drew patterns on his chest.

“mm..stay like this for a bit…yeah?” he breathed, allowing his eyes to flutter shut again as his hand moved to her hair, massaging her scalp gently.

“you’re so cute” she sighed, giggling to herself as she looked up at him. cocking a brew, he re-opened an eye to glare at her. “cute? i’m not cute” he huffed, pouting his bottom lip out.

“what are you then?” she laughed, stroking the pad of her thumb along his jawline. “me? i’m manly” he chuckled, puffing his chest out as his grip on her waist tightened, his fingers playing with the waistband of her sleep shorts— his boxers. “sure you are..”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he yelped quietly, craning his neck to face her as his mouth fell agape, feigning hurt. “i mean, you’re a big baby” she teased.

before she had time to react, his grip tightened and he flipped the two of them, suddenly pinning her beneath him. “that right, sweetheart?” he grinned, mischief dripping from his words as she struggled against his weight.

he chuckled as she tried and failed multiple times to escape, but to no avail. “you give up?” he suggested, prompting an answer as he pressed numerous wet kisses to her forehead. “never!” she laughed, attempting to fool him for a second as she went limp, before quickly springing into action, trying to pull her knees up against her chest. “c’mon baby, just tap out— you know you want to..” he snickered, staring down at her expectantly.

“fine!— get off me, jerk” she huffed, grateful for the sudden distance as her lungs suddenly had more space for air. “don’t be such a sore loser, it’s not a good look” he smirked, pushing off from the bed before moving to the doorway.

“oh, you are such an asshole rafe cameron!” she seethed, swatting his chest as followed behind him hurriedly— soon stomping passed him.

“an asshole that you love, right angel?” rafe chuckled, quickly swiping at her legs, eliciting a squeal as he lifted her into the air, carrying her down the stairs.

“maybe if you make me pancakes i will..” she suggested, turning to smile at him sweetly as he simply laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “yeah, okay..”

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

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theres-a-body-here · 2 months

Text

Recieving a love letter

Part two

You decided that the best time to give it to them (pause) is during a trial

Characters: Oni, Trapper, Deathslinger, Mastermind, Cannibal, Ghostface Warnings: Internalized Homophobia, Death, some spice Male!reader

The Oni - Kazan Yamaoka

Impossible... You're both men

Kazan cannot accept this

This simply wasn't acceptable during his era

He immediately smashes your head in with his Kanabo on instinct

Gay panic defense

The evil has been dealt with, Kazan lets out a deep exhale

But...his eyes wander to the letter, still within your cold, stiff grasp

Advantages come from all angles... Don't they?

Kazan takes the letter, convincing himself he'll use whatever information he finds inside against you

It smells like you... Not that he checked

(He did)

A red wax seal holds the letter closed

Kazan looks closer

You had carved his family crest into the wax

Something foreign invades his body, something other than rage

It's nervousness

He opens the letter, making sure to keep the seal intact

For no reason in particular

(He's pocketing that mofo)

Instantly, he's impressed by your penmanship

So organized, clean, and sharp

But its contents are even more eye catching

The love letter is short and sweet

But what follows is even sweeter

A haiku

Kazan feels his heart skip a beat

He checks it once, then again, and one more for good measure

Yep, no mistakes

The loud pop of a gen echoes through the trialground, snapping him out of his trance

Kazan whips his head all around, looking for witnesses

Finding none, he pockets the letter

He stares at your lifeless body, feeling something else flutter in his chest

Guilt

The Trapper - Evan MacMillan

Evan stares at you as you hold your letter out for him to take

After a long, uncomfortable silence, he takes it

He brings it to his face, inspecting it through the holes of his mask

Evan has absolutely no idea what to do here

He looks back at you

"Do you...want me to fuck you?"

Romantic gestures are new territories for Evan, so he honestly thinks this is just your way of asking for dick

Whichever the case, he has a job to do

He puts you down without hesitation and hooks you up, leaving without a second glance

He's still holding the letter

Part of him wants to rip it up, and the other is curious to know what you wrote

He sloppily tears the letter open, reading it hastily as he walks to the next gen

Evan stops when he reads a bit more

You weren't asking for a ball slapping, eye watering, toe curling, deep dick fuck...

You were asking for his heart

You wanted all of him, hooks and all

Okay now he feels a bit bad

Evan reads some more

You actually drew a portrait of him within the letter, saying you learnt of his knack for art from Philip

Now he feels even worse

He lets the others save you without hiccup

In fact, he basically leaves for alone for the rest of the trial

He stops chasing and hurting the others occasionally to stare at you from afar, observing that focused look on your face as you work on gens or heal a teammate

Evan feels butterflies and he no longer has the strength to swat at them

It doesn't matter if he kills all your friends or if they opened the gates and left; Eventually, you're alone with him

He holds your letter out, watching as confusion sets on your face

"I'm dirty and sloppy... I'll ruin it"

He sounds vulnerable, waiting for you to respond

You curl your hand over his, folding the letter into his palm

"I want you to keep it," you say softly, as of talking to an apprehensive deer

He doesn't know what to say

Whatever he was going to respond with gets stuck in his throat as you lean in to kiss the cheek of his mask

He watches as you leave through the exit gate, glancing down at the letter in his hand

The Deathslinger - Caleb Quinn

Obviously you're joking... Right?

Cuz there's no way you'd be attracted to someone like him— Old, beat-up, and grumpy

You'd have to push him some more if you want him to accept the letter

Convince him you're being genuine

Eventually, he gives in and takes the letter from you

He glances around nervously, like he's expecting the other survivors to jump out and laugh at him for falling for the joke

He opens the letter, stunned when he sees there's actually things written inside

A blush creeps into his face as he reads, only deepening when he reads more

After he's done, Caleb can't even meet your gaze

After a few moments of silence, he speaks

"I can.....uhhh....keep this... right?"

Talk about awk as hell

Even after the trial, he lies awake thinking about it

Caleb rereads the letter over and over

You're gonna have to be the one to seek him out outside of trials since he's way too embarrassed now

"Yer serious 'bout this, ain'tcha?"

He decides to let his guard down just a bit to let you in

Be prepared to give him lots of reassurance

"Yer sure ya ain't mistaken?"

Caleb isn't one for words, so instead of writing you a letter, he makes you trinkets out of scrap metal

If you kiss him as thanks, he'll actually die on the spot

So please don't... unless you're evil as hell

The Mastermind - Albert Wesker

Wesker makes you kneel as you give him the letter

After snatching it out of your hands, he scans it meticulously

"I see you've made eleven spelling mistakes"

He enjoys the way you tense up instantly, like a puppy waiting to be put on punishment

"How adorable"

He ALLOWS you to watch him put the letter in his inner coat pocket

He would never admit it, but this certainly boosted his ego to new heights

Albert lifts you off the ground and tosses you over his shoulder

He carries you to the basement

"Stay here while I deal with your companions"

He leaves to kill the rest of your friends

After every hook, he pats his chest to make sure the letter is still there

He'll deny he ever did that if you ask him though

Once he returns, Wesker will bombard you with questions, expecting an answer within 5 seconds or less

What took you so long? What do you like most about him? Would you choose him over your friends? How can you satisfy him?

He loves how easily you crumble under his interrogation, blushing and stammering like a fool

Once he's had his fill, he picks you up again

He carries you to hatch

Before he lets you go, he grips your chin and makes you look at him

"I suppose I ought to leave you with something"

Wesker reaches into his coat and pulls out a pair of sunglasses

"I hope you can explain this to your allies," he chuckles

Before you can protest, he puts them on you and drops you into the hole

The Cannibal - Bubba Sawyer

Freezes in place and gasps when he sees you hold out your letter

He lets out a happy squeal before dropping his hammer and chainsaw to the ground

Bubba takes the letter from you gently, treating it like glass

He immediately plops onto the ground

He tears open the envelope carefully and take out the letter

He's completely forgotten about the trial

He reads the letter, shaking with excitement

It's sappy, sweet, and everything he's ever wanted

Even when the sounds of popping generators ring through the trial grounds, Bubba doesn't take his eyes off the letter for a second

He occasionally stops reading to either make a sound of happiness or cover his face out of embarrassment

Once he's finished, Bubba will stand up and pull you into a bone-crushing hug, lifting you up a bit and swaying you around like a ragdoll

You're definitely leaving this trial unharmed

He grabs your hand tightly, marching over to the hatch or exit gates and lets you leave with a goofy wave

The Entity doesn't even punish him for it since his joy was so great it made up for the lack of bad emotions from the survivors

He immediately works on writing a letter for you after the trial is over

The next time you see him, expect another bear hug followed by a letter being shoved in your face

It's messy, sticky, and covered in glitter

Crudely drawn hearts cover the inside as the letters are shaky and almost intelligible

But you can tell Bubba put his whole heart into it

The Ghostface - Danny Johnson

Instantly smug as hell

"Oh, what's that? That for me?"

He takes it from you and immediately tears it open, tossing the envelope behind him nonchalantly

His mask moves as he visibly reads through the letter, occasionally chuckling and shaking his head

Danny finds this scenario so fucking funny— A survivor having a crush on a killer

After he's done, he looks up at you

"Do you have daddy issues or something?'

He laughs loudly when he sees a hurt expression flash across your face, walking over to wrap an arm around your shoulders

"I'm just messing with ya, cutie"

Danny marches over with his head high to one of the hooked survivors, waving the letter in their face

You stand to the side awkwardly, unable to meet your friend's bewildered look

"Your homeboy is down bad for me. Whaddya think about that?"

The survivor grits their teeth struggling to keep the Entity's claw from puncturing their chest

"I think....Gah!...they.... have daddy issues...fuck!"

"THATS WHAT I SAID!"

You're never living this down

He goes around the map showing off your love letter to the others

After he finishes gloating, Danny hooks you

What? He's the Entity's favorite! He can't his reputation be tarnished

Outside of the trial, he follows you around like a shadow

He deadass interrupts your conversations with the others to tell you he wants attention, and you'd better deliver

Your love letter was basically an invitation for him to claim you as his own, whether you regret it or not

You're his now

Like a housecat that swats at others who get too close to their owner

"That kiss factory better be open, pookie"

He says shit like this in front of any survivor or killer

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queenshelby · 4 months

Text

Playtime with Daddy (One Shot)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x "Stepdaughter" Reader

Warning: Smut, Daddy! Kink, Roleplay

Note: Everyone is over 18!

It was a Sunday afternoon when you were alone at home with your stepfather Cillian and, as usual, you spent some time together, playing games.

Cillian had a magnetic charm about him that made you feel safe and protected, despite the fact that he had been married to your mother for only a few short months. His warm smile and twinkling eyes drew you closer and his gentle manner put you at ease. As you sat beside him during your game, the scent of his cologne lingered in the air, mingling with the subtle aroma of wood and musk, filling you with a sense of warmth and comfort.

"So," said Cillian, glancing over at you fondly, "how have you been feeling lately? Any troubles I should know about?" His voice was soft, almost tender, as if he genuinely cared about your wellbeing.

You hesitated before answering, the corners of your mouth pulling downwards slightly. "Well," you began, your voice cracking just a bit, "I have been a little curious about things lately." You paused, looking up at Cillian, who gazed back at you with an unreadable expression. "Things like, you know..."

Cillian raised an eyebrow, his face impassive. "Like what?"

Cillian asked, his curiosity piqued. There was something about the way you hesitated to finish your sentence that intrigued him. He couldn't help but wonder what exactly it was that you wanted to know more about.

"Well," you started again, your voice trembling ever so slightly, "I guess I'm just...curious about the way I feel, down there... I have this funny sensation when I am spending time with you." The words tumbled out of your mouth faster than you could stop them. Your cheeks reddened as you looked away, hoping he wouldn't be too upset by your confession.

"It's nothing really," you whispered softly, "I mean, I don't think it's anything bad..."

Cillian chuckled softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey now," he murmured gently, "There's no need to feel embarrassed," he went on to say before suggesting that he would have a look.

"You want to have a look at my special place?" you managed to whisper, your heart pounding against your chest like a trapped bird. You could feel the blush creeping up your neck until it reached your ears, causing them to turn hot and prickly. Cillian's gaze held steady, locked onto yours, his lips curling into a small smile.

"Why not?" he replied, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "After all, we're family now, aren't we?" He leaned back slightly, giving you space to rise from your seat.

"I suppose so," you agreed meekly, feeling a strange mix of apprehension and excitement swirling inside you.

"Very well then sweetie, lie down on the bed for me so that I can have a look at your little hole to see if everything is okay," Cillian asked you as he reached down to remove your panties, exposing your wetness.

You hesitated but eventually complied, reluctantly lying down on the bed in the dimly lit room. You shivered, the chilly air permeating your skin.

"Good girl now spread your legs apart for me so I can see it properly," Cillian instructed, his voice hushed yet commanding.

Your heart raced, but you complied, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

He moved closer, running his fingers gently across your inner thighs, sending chills up your spine.

"Just relax, baby," he whispered reassuringly, his tone soothing your anxiety.

As he examined you closely, his eyes flickered with a strange glint.

"You know, honey, I need to ensure that everything is good down there," he said softly, reaching out to gently stroke your thigh. "To do that, I might need to take a look inside."

You swallowed hard but something about his gentle manner made you feel safe. "It's alright, baby," he assured you, noticing your apprehension. "I promise it won't hurt. In fact, I think you'll enjoy it," Cillian coaxed, his warm breath fanning against your inner thigh.

"Okay daddy," you finally mumbled as his fingers grazed your lips, tracing the outline before delicately parting them, exposing your soft pink hole.

"Relax, baby," Cillian murmured, his voice like a lullaby, soothing your frayed nerves. "I'm just going to have a look, hmm?" he then said, and you clenched your fists, trying to brace yourself for what was about to come.

His finger brushed against your entrance, causing a jolt of sensation to shoot through your body.

He parted your labia softly, revealing the delicate inner workings of your body. His scrutiny was meticulous, as if he were examining a priceless artifact.

"Everything looks good so far," he murmured. "Your opening is very small though, isn't it? It's quite beautiful, actually."

Your cheeks turned red, and you wanted to crawl under the covers from embarrassment. But his kind tone made you feel less self-conscious.

"You see, baby," he explained, "this little hole here is usually reserved for your partner someday, but today, daddy gets to explore it firsthand."

His words shocked you, but his soft touch felt comforting, almost loving. You bit your lip, unsure how to respond.

"Don't worry," he whispered, stroking your cheek. "I'll be gentle. I will just put one finger inside now, alright?"

Cillian's index finger slowly pushed past your barrier, breaching your sacred space. You gasped, unprepared for the intrusion. A mix of discomfort and excitement coursed through you. His finger wiggled deeper, stretching you open. You squirmed beneath him, biting your lip to suppress moans.

"Does it hurt much?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"No, not really," you lied, trying to convince yourself. "It feels weird, I guess."

His hand cupped your face, turning your chin upward toward him. "You don't have to pretend with me, sweetheart," he murmured, brushing away the tears that had pooled in your eyes. "Tell me how it feels."

"It's just so big," you whimpered, clutching onto his arm, "and it hurts a little."

Cillian nodded his head, looking deep into your eyes. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, his voice low and full of affection. "It will get better once I start moving my finger in and out a bit. You will see."

He then winked at you, then carefully inserted another finger along with the first one.

The burn intensified, searing through your core, and you arched off the mattress, letting out a muffled cry.

"It's all right," he consoled you, kissing your forehead tenderly. "You're doing great. Just breathe deeply and focus on my touch."

You listened to his advice, inhaling a sharp breath and exhaling long and slow.

With encouragement from Cillian, you began to relax, allowing your muscles to loosen around his fingers. The discomfort eased, replaced by a new sensation that made you arch your back and groan softly.

"That's it, sweetheart," Cillian praised, his voice thickening. "Feel it for me. Let me hear those noises you make."

A flush swept over your face, but you let loose a soft moan, reveling in the odd pleasure. Cillian grinned wickedly, his fingers thrusting faster, deeper.

"There you go, baby," he crooned, his voice husky with lust. "Let daddy listen to those pretty sounds you're making."

You cried out, unable to hold back any longer. Your hands balled into fists, nails digging into the sheets, as wave after wave of bliss consumed you.

"Maybe daddy can put something else in to your little hole now that you are a little more stretched out," Cillian suggested, withdrawing his fingers and watching your reaction carefully.

You glanced up at him, your gaze filled with curiosity and trepidation.

"Like what?" you managed to ask between ragged breaths.

A devilish grin stretched across his face. "Well," he teased, leaning close to whisper in your ear, "maybe a toy or even…"

You held your breath, waiting for him to finish.

"Or even what, daddy?" you prodded, desperate to see where this would lead.

"Maybe daddy could put his penis into your hole," Cillian teased, his tone laced with mischief. He reached down and rubbed himself through his pants, hinting at what he meant. You gulped, your insides twisting nervously.

"But wouldn't that hurt?" you ventured, hoping to stall the inevitable.

"Only when it first goes in," Cillian responded, a sly twinkle in his eye. "And then you will get used to it and it will even feel quite nice," he said and you flushed scarlet, unable to believe what you were hearing.

"Are you sure it won't hurt too much?" you managed to ask, swallowing hard.

"I am sure," Cillian said. "Despite, you are a big girl now and big girls do this kind of thing all the time."

You felt your heart pounding fast, your mouth suddenly dry. The idea of having your stepfather's penis inside you terrified you, but at the same time, the thought aroused you.

"Okay daddy," you stammered, your voice trembling. "I... I think I'm ready," you forced out, your palms sweating.

Cillian patted your cheek, his smile growing wider.

"Alright, baby," he said, pulling his pants down slowly. "We are going to do this together."

You stared wide-eyed at his erect member, the sight both terrifying and mesmerizing.

"Are you sure, daddy?" you whispered, a lump forming in your throat.

"Oh, yes, baby," Cillian replied confidently, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. "I've been dreaming about this moment ever since you moved in with us."

He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs.

His erection stood tall and hard, eager to breach your untouched depths. A bead of sweat trickled down your neck, and your breathing quickened. You knew what was coming, but you couldn't stop it.

"Take a deep breath, baby," Cillian encouraged, his eyes locked on yours. You took a steadying breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

"Now, I'm going to guide you through this," he assured you, placing a hand on your hip. "I'll be gentle, I promise."

You nodded, your grip tightening on the sheets underneath you. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I love you, baby," he breathed warmly against your skin. "I promise it'll be worth it."

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of his manhood resting against your folds.

"Okay," you muttered, bracing yourself for the intrusion.

"Here we go," Cillian said firmly, guiding your hips upward slightly. "Daddy will put his penis in now, okay?" Cillian spoke softly, the intimacy of their situation heavy in the air. You couldn't find the words to speak, your mouth dry and your heart hammering madly in your chest. The silence hung thick between you, the tension mounting.

"It's going to feel different from earlier," Cillian said, pausing briefly. "Remember, I told you big girls do this all the time? So you're going to be a big girl too, aren't you?"

You nodded silently, your hands gripping the sheets tightly.

Your heart pounded erratically in your chest, the anticipation building heavily within you. You couldn't believe what was happening, but something deep down urged you to continue.

Cillian guided his tip to your entrance, his swollen shaft throbbing against your sensitive flesh. You tried to remember to breathe, but the anticipation made it difficult. With every centimeter that inched closer, the heat built between your legs.

"Just push back against me, baby," Cillian whispered in your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck as his cockhead slipped inside you.

You strained to accommodate him, feeling his thickness stretch you painfully. Your breath caught in your throat, and you gripped the sheets tighter. The sensation was overwhelming; it was unlike anything you'd experienced before.

"Shh," Cillian murmured, his fingers stroking your hair. "Just breathe, baby. Relax."

You nodded, forcing yourself to remain still, despite the burning discomfort that radiated from your core.

"You're doing great," Cillian encouraged, his voice hoarse with anticipation. "Just breathe and let daddy in."

You nodded, your hands shaking as you attempted to grasp the sheets beneath you. "It feels so huge," you admitted, the truth spilling freely from your lips.

"I know, baby," Cillian said, his voice cracking slightly. "That's why you should relax and let daddy guide you through this."

He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, his lips cool and comforting. "Just push back against me," he whispered, his breath fanning against your heated skin as he reached your barrier.

You winced, the sudden burn catching you off guard. He paused, his breath shallow, as if reading your reaction. "Sshh," he murmured, his fingers combing through your hair. "I know, baby," he said, his voice cracking slightly.

"The next bit will hurt, but it's necessary for daddy to fully put his penis into you," he said, his voice hushed and low. "I'm going to push now. Are you ready, baby?" Cillian asked, his voice strained with anticipation.

"Yes, daddy," you answered, your breath hitching unevenly as, with one swift thrust, he tore through your barrier.

You screamed out, your nails scratching his back.

"Shh, baby," Cillian soothed, his hand cradling your cheek. "It's over now. I am all the way inside you now," Cillian murmured, his breath tickling your ears as he started to move inside you.

"You're such a brave girl," he added, his voice thick with emotion. "Daddy loves you so much."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt a strange sense of pride wash over you. Despite the intense pain, you realized that you had done something incredible. You had let your stepfather inside you. The realization sent a rush of warmth through your veins.

"I love you too, daddy," you managed to say, your voice cracking like fragile porcelain as Cillian thrusted deeper inside you.

His response came swiftly, a feverish grunt coupled with a desperate thrust.

"Fuck!" he hissed, his chest heaving with exertion. "You're so tight, baby."

You moaned softly, your body responding involuntarily to his passionate movements.

"So fucking tight," Cillian growled, his breaths becoming ragged. "Oh, god, I'm losing control," he groaned, the intensity of his words echoing the fervor of his thrusts.

You moaned, your nails clawing at the sheets beneath you. Each surge of sensation threatened to unravel every thread of restraint left within you.

"You make daddy feel so good," Cillian rasped, his voice barely audible in the dimly lit room.

The scent of sex lingered in the air, a potent reminder of the taboo act unfolding between you.

Your toes curled instinctively, your body reacting to the raw sensuality of the encounter.

"Do you know, baby," Cillian whispered into your ear, his breath hot and intoxicating, "how much I've fantasized about this moment?"

You shook your head, the pain dulling into a steady throb.

"I never imagined it would hurt this much," you whispered, your voice weak and trembling.

Cillian slowed his pace, his thrusts weakening with concern. "I'm sorry, baby," he murmured, his voice tinged with guilt. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

The dim light filtered through the window, casting shadows on the walls. You tried to sit up, but the effort was overwhelming.

"It's fine, daddy," you lied, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I'm just getting used to it."

You didn't want him to worry about you, even though the throbbing in your pelvis was unbearable.

"Just keep going," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cillian sighed, his grip tightening on your waist. "Okay, baby," he agreed, his voice strained with desire. "But if you need me to stop, tell me, alright?"

You nodded, your lips pressed tightly together. The last thing you wanted was for him to think you weren't enjoying yourself.

"Daddy is almost done," he promised, his words punctuated by heavy, labored breaths.

You lay there, panting and drenched in sweat, but there was no denying the pleasure that coursed through you with each thrust.

"Daddy wants to show you how much you mean to me," he murmured, his voice thick with passion.

His words stirred feelings within you you'd never known existed.

"I'll make it good for you, baby," he promised, his kisses peppering your neck.

You moaned softly, the sensation of his erection filling you erasing the lingering sting of pain.

Cillian's thrusts turned from tentative to relentless, his rhythmic motions driving you wild. The dampness of your thighs and the smell of sweat and sex enveloped you, cocooning you in a haze of lust.

"God, baby," Cillian groaned, his fingers digging into your hips. "You feel so perfect," he told you and, suddenly, it hit you. A wave of pleasure surged through your body, and you clutched the sheets tightly, wanting to scream but fearing it would ruin the moment.

"It's okay, baby," Cillian murmured, his thrusts slowing down, allowing you to revel in the euphoria coursing through you. "Cry out, baby."

You did, your voice breaking through the silence, a high-pitched wail that echoed in the enclosed space. It was liberating, frightening, painful, and pleasurable – all at once.

The release of your pent-up emotions, accompanied by the physical demands of being fucked roughly by your stepfather, was an indescribable rush. Your eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy, overwhelmed by the tidal wave of orgasms crashing down upon you.

"Oh, fuck! Baby, you're squeezing me so tight," Cillian exclaimed, his grip tightening on your hips. Every thrust drove you further into a state of frenzied bliss. This was forbidden, wrong, but oh, so enticing.

"Daddy is going to put some of his cum into you now, okay?" Cillian murmured, his fingers skimming along your stomach as he neared his orgasm.

"What do you mean, daddy?" you asked, a wave of unease washing over you.

Cillian smirked, his eyes glistening with lust. "Nothing to worry about, baby," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Just a little something special for your hole. Like a magic potion," he groaned as his climax approached. He plunged his erection deeper within you, thrusting with a renewed urgency as he tumbled over the edge.

The force behind his release surprised you, as his semen surged into you, filling you completely.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, panting heavily, thrusting into you. "Soak it all up for daddy," he groaned.

You squirmed beneath him, feeling the wetness oozing from your sore pussy. His release had filled you to the brim, creating a strange sensation that contrasted sharply with the raw pleasure you had experienced moments ago.

As Cillian continued to thrust into you, you could feel him soften slowly, his erection subsiding.

"Baby," he gasped, his voice strained and raw with exhaustion. "I am spent," he groaned as the intense encounter had left you both drained.

"Me too," you told him. "And I am so glad I have married an actor," you smiled, looking at him intently. "This kind of role play is a real turn on for me and I bet you had a lot of fun playing your role as my stepfather, huh?"

Cillian chuckled softly, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "Yeah, I must admit, it wasn't half bad," he agreed before pulling you in for a kiss. "I hope you enjoyed it."

"Loved it," you whispered, nibbling on his bottom lip before pushing him away slightly. "But I have to confess something."

"What's that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"It was kind of awkward calling you 'daddy' during sex," you confessed, blushing slightly.

"Yeah," Cillian agreed, running a hand through his messy brown hair. "It does sound a bit strange, doesn't it?"

"Well, it was still hot," you admitted, giggling nervously.

"Of course it was," Cillian laughed, giving you a playful nudge. "I'm irresistibly good at my job, right?"

"I suppose," you joked, rolling your eyes playfully. "I'll give you that much credit."

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n

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7s3ven · 3 months

Note

can you please do poseidon/reader and she finds out luke is the lightning thief?

THE GRUDGE. luke (pjo)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Y/N L/N can’t forgive Luke for his crimes despite loving him more than she loves herself.

“I know in my heart hurt people, hurt people. And we both drew blood, but, man, those cuts were never equal.”

Warnings : spoilers, small angst (in my opinion lol. I’m more sensitive to family/friendship angst, not relationship angst), short(ish) oneshot

A/N : to any other writers, do you ever act out the situations you’re writing so you can write a better descriptions of reactions and then you realise that you’re actually a good actor?

Because I literally just acted out Y/N’s reaction and either I’m great at fake crying (which has been a talent of mine) … or my heart-wrenching sobs were real 😨. Also, the song one of us from the Lion King suits Luke perfectly.

—

The life of a half-blood wasn’t easy, especially not when you were a forbidden child. Y/N flipped through her fashion magazine, aimlessly swinging her legs as she lay on her front. “Y/N.” Luke called out, pushing the creaky door open. She lifted her head, staring at him curiously.

“Hey, Luke.” She smiled at him, clasping her hands together. He grinned back, slowly walking over to her side.

“You feeling okay?” He asked, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. With Percy, her half-brother gone, she was alone in her cabin. Again.

Y/N gazed at him through her lashes. “Yeah. I’m good. I’m fine.” She whispered, reaching out to grasp his wrist. Luke bit the inside of his cheek.

“I have your phone.” Luke uttered, handing Y/N her device. Phones weren’t allowed in camp but Luke found a way around that, much to Y/N’s happiness. She had spent far too long in the mortal world to give up scrolling through social media.

“Thanks, love.” Her pink-tinted lips curved into a soft smile. “You have no idea how much I need this now that Percy is gone on his quest. It’s so lonely here.”

Y/N always hated being in her own company. Her cabin got messy and she never had the motivation to clean it. She was thankful for Luke because he always helped her with the mundane task that should have been easy, but not for her.

“No problem, princess.” Luke lightly kissed her forehead while she laughed. “I can’t wait until Percy is back because I have a feeling that things are about to change.” Nothing good lasts for long. Y/N, more than anyone, knew that. She stalked through the thick vegetation, harbouring a heavy sword. She had heard rumours of Luke… and she needed to confirm it for herself, even if it meant endangering her safety.

“Luke.” She called out, her voice shaking. She didn’t want to believe the rumours but Luke was unpredictable. Ever since returning from his quest, he hadn’t been the same.

Y/N had been at Camp Half-Blood for longer than most and she had seen demigods come and go, desperately searching for glory but never finding enough of it.

“Luke.” She said again, repeating it like it was a mantra that would save him from the terrible fate he had chosen. She dragged her sword against the ground, her eyes scanning for the slightest bit of movement amongst the trees.

She sighed, thinking of returning to camp before she spotted a flicker of orange. "Luke?" She whispered, but he still heard her. She stepped towards him, breathing heavily.

"Luke... what... is it true? Did you..." Y/N couldn't find the right words. "What did you do, Luke?" She asked, grabbing him by the front of his shirt when she noticed how he avoided her gaze and how his eyes looked so guilty. "What did you do?!"

"I did what I had to, Y/N. The gods... they don't care about us." Luke stiffened as Y/N glowered at him, her eyes filled with so much rage and hate and sadness and everything in between.

"You're wrong, Luke!" She exclaimed, harshly shaking him.

"I'm not like you, Y/N! My father doesn't care about me. Yours might give a shit about you but that doesn't apply to anyone! Look around you. Poseidon ignored Percy for years while nurturing you. My father abandoned my mother and I when he could have helped us. Ares hates Clarisse for being a girl and forces her to train harder until she collapses. They try so hard to find every little flaw in us that they ignore what we've done for them."

"But why this, Luke? Why betray us? Me! You betrayed me, Luke! And all your friends and family! Hermes may not give a shit about you, but I do! I have loved you since we first met, Luke! I fucking love you and you betrayed me!" Y/N slammed her fists against his chest, screaming until tears welled up in her eyes. "What did you do to Percy?" She muttered, her voice barely even a whisper. "Tell me. Tell me now and I might spare you! Please… please.” She hiccuped, her hits growing weaker.

Luke wheezed as Y/N gripped his throat for a split second. "He'll be fine... he only got stung."

"I hate you." Y/N seethed, rage engulfing her soft heart until it spilled out and poisoned her body with its toxins. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you! Gods, I hate you, Luke! Fuck you! Fuck… you!” She screamed, the sound echoing around the empty trees.

But she still couldn't bring herself to stab him. "Get out of here, Luke. Go! Leave! I never want to see your face again!" Y/N's voice shook as she shoved Luke away from her.

Heart-wrenching sobs slipped past her lips as she pointed an accusing finger at Luke. "The gods have fucked up, Luke, but you are no different. Maybe you had the right idea at first... but you went with it the wrong way. And it cost you everything. Don't go near Percy again. Don’t you dare touch him ever again! You don’t deserve his kindness! Don't even look at him because I promise you, if you do, I will drive a stake through your heart!” Y/N's confident voice faltered for a moment. She shakily inhaled. "I hope you're happy with yourself." That fated day still haunted Y/N's mind. She often had nightmares about it, where things turned out different had she stabbed Luke. She always woke up with a loud gasp, covered in a light layer of sweat.

On her nightside table, her phone rang. She hadn't been using it much since Luke left. She slowly reached for it. Nobody had her phone number except her close friend, who lived in Tokyo, her cousin, and... Luke.

Her heart was beating unusually fast as she shakily turned the device over to peer at the screen. Her stomach churned and she dropped her phone in horror. Percy was in the infirmary, still recovering from the pit scorpion attack. She was somewhat thankful for that.

She let the phone ring, letting out a sigh of relief when it finally stopped. But it started again, and again. Until on the third ring, she finally clicked the green button.

She didn't say anything, flinching at the sound of Luke's voice. "Y/N? Y/N. Thank goodness you picked up! I knew you weren't going to answer my iris message so I was hoping your phone was working."

Y/N cut Luke off from his ranting. "Luke... don't call me again."

"Wait, Y/N. Please listen to me. I love"-

She hung up before he could finish. She stared at her phone, gripping it tightly. With a guttural scream, she threw it across the room. It landed safely on Percy's bed and a part of her was glad that it did. It was one of the only things she had left from Luke.

She didn't know if she could ever forgive Luke for betraying her trust. And the worst thing was that she still loved him from the bottom of her heart. "You good?" Y/N quietly walked towards Percy, helping him sit up. He groaned.

"Yeah. I'm sorry about Luke... I know how much he meant to you." Percy's eyes softened as he stared at Y/N, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"He, uh... tried calling me last night." Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line.

Percy tilted his head to the side. "So what'd you do?"

"I ignored him until the third time... then I hung up after I told him to stop contacting me."

"You don't have to be so tough all the time, Y/N." Percy uttered, pulling her into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around her waste and she sighed.

"I really want to scream, Percy. I just... can't believe he could do that so easily. I mean, leave us... leave me. I'm trying not to care and I'm trying to say I'm fine but I can't let it go." Tears welled up again, dripping down the red apples of her cheeks.

Y/N would be lying if she said she hadn’t tried to figure out why Luke did what he did. She tried to piece everything together but it only hurt her head and heart to think.

After ensuring Percy was comfortable, she stepped outside. The camp was in utter chaos after Luke’s betrayal and they were trying to find more spies amongst them. Most people suspected Y/N because she ran into the woods to confront Luke and she was closely associated with him, which didn’t help. But she loved her friends and she could never leave them as Luke had.

She wandered into a small clearing, dipping her hand into a cold river nearby to calm herself. She didn’t even notice someone was watching her from behind until they cleared their throat.

With a panicked gasp, Y/N looked over her shoulder. She was expecting a fellow camper, maybe even Luke, but not Hermes in all his glory. The pair stared at each other for a minute before Hermes finally broke the awkward silence.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He hesitatingly pointed at her, worried he had the wrong girl.

She nodded.

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see after Luke left.” Hermes started off, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

“Luke is the last person I want to see.” Y/N retorted, “You’re second on that list.”

“He really did like you, you know."

“It wasn’t enough apparently.” Y/N shrugged, already accepting that she could tear Luke from his fate, “Maybe I deserved the betrayal… but not from Luke. He practically made me into the person I am. I guess he wanted to see how high he could build me before I fell. He had everything yet he still wanted more.”

“He cared about you. Dare I say, Y/N, he love”-

She cut him off just as she had cut Luke off. “Don’t say he loved me because if he did then he wouldn’t have done this! He… he wouldn’t have done all this!” Y/N choked on her words as she bit back a sob.

“He still loves you. Not loved. Not past-tense. Never past-tense. I’ve seen him, you know. He misses you and for a while, he tried to contact you in every way he could just so he could hear your voice. Even if you were screaming at him. I know that in another life, he wishes he didn’t have to leave you behind.”

“There shouldn’t be another life!” Y/N exclaimed. Getting angry at a god was dangerous but she was so frustrated and angry and hurt. Hermes didn’t seem to mind. He nodded his head, understanding her emotions. “Don’t you get it? You also have to take the blame. You’re part of the reason why he betrayed us!”

“He’ll forgive me eventually.”

Y/N shook her head. “No. You and every other deity thinks that your neglected child will forgive you but they might not. They might forgive but they will never forget. If I can’t even forgive the boy I love with all my heart, how do you think Luke will ever forgive you?” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“Forgiveness takes strength." Hermes whispered, barely loud enough for Y/N to hear. "Luke is much stronger than I originally thought and you, the mighty daughter of the sea god himself, are too.”

“Yeah, well,” Y/N shrugged as she stood up, brushing the dirty off her pants. “I don’t think I’m quite there yet.”

“It takes time.” Hermes said, “Meanwhile, I would suggest answering that.” He pointed at her phone that was ringing in her hand. Y/N didn’t even notice with how distracted she was.

She briefly looked down at the screen and raised her head again, her lips parting when Hermes was nowhere to be seen.

She hesitatingly pressed the accept button and raised her phone to her ear. She heard him quietly gasp, surprised she even answered again. “Luke… hi.”

PJO TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbaby @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303 @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

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beardedjoel · 6 months

Text

butt dial | a pretty little wife mini chapter

joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨

summary: 2.3k words; you're home alone while joel is out with his brother. he butt dials you, and you hear some very interesting things. warnings: 18+ MDNI, no apocalypse au, pre-established sub/dom relationship/dynamic, dirty talk, pet names for reader, joel says some dirty ass shit about pretty wife, allusions to smut at the end a/n: just a short little ditty inspired by this ask - you're an absolute saint for putting this idea in my head it had me kicking and giggling my feet to think about and write. enjoy!!!

You sigh, leaning back on the couch and curling up a bit more. The blanket draped over you has fallen, so you tug it up a bit and snuggle your arms underneath the plush fabric. It still carries a lingering scent of Joel and you happily breathe it in as you train your eyes on the screen. You’ve put on a mushy romance film, the type Joel doesn’t typically jump at watching with you. It’s not that he won’t, because one look from your desperate eyes will have him rolling his and turning the movie you’ve requested on, anyways. But a man has his limits, and he’s said no more than one of that genre every few months.

Joel is out tonight with Tommy, grabbing drinks to fulfill their monthly tradition. They often have a beer at yours and Joel’s place, or go out for just one after work, maybe, but once a month they have a full-on night out. You encourage it, wanting Joel to stay close with his brother. You never had such a close relationship with your family like he does with his brother, and you know their tough upbringing drew them together.

You also don’t mind having the house to yourself for the evening, you think with a wry smile, basking in the quiet comfort and being able to pick whatever form of entertainment without your well meaning husband griping about it. You’ve got on one of the newest rom-coms you’d noticed on Netflix the other day, and have a lazy smile as you watch, feeling fully content. You’d made a hearty batch of fried rice for dinner, leaving a plate made up in case Joel came home drunk and starving (he always did).

A sudden trilling tone interrupts your daze, and you pause the movie and sit up to see your phone lit up and ringing. Joel’s name flashes on the screen, along with a photo of the two of you together, taken on a sunny day when you went hiking. It makes you smile briefly before worry settles in, wondering why he’s calling right now. It makes your stomach sink a bit, hoping he’s not gotten into trouble, or worse, hurt. You scramble to answer, your fingers fumbling with the buttons until you pull it to your ear, your breath hitching as you try to swallow and get the words out.

“H-hello?” you say quickly into the receiver, clutching it close to your ear. You hear a staticky sound, loud and grating as the call finally comes in. You yank it back from your ear, your brows knitting together in confusion. The sounds become a little clearer as you listen closer, and you can hear the buzz of multiple, overlapping conversations and music. You breathe out in relief as you realize Joel is okay, and nearly laugh at how worked up you got in the first place. Your mind just goes to that terrified place, wondering how the hell you’d ever live if something happened to him.

You almost hang up, smiling with the burst of relief when you catch the tail end of something Joel is saying. You know this was an accidental butt dial, and you really should hang up, but after your scare, you want to hear your husbands safe, comforting voice… just for a second. Just a second, and then you’ll hang up, give him his privacy.

You press the phone close to your ear, trying to make it out. You hear the distinct sound of both of the boys’ laughter, Joel and Tommy, and you can tell just from that noise that they’re well into their drinking for the night. It’s a lighthearted, deep laugh, one that he doesn’t do very often. It makes you smile and you sigh a little, putting your chin in your hand.

“-and then I fell right down, right there on the damn street… Theresa was pissed, lemme tell you…” you hear Tommy’s voice slurring out, a little distant but still clear enough to make out. Joel howls with laughter and you can picture him, trying not to choke on his sip of beer, clapping Tommy on the shoulder.

“Fuckinhellbrother,” Joel slurs, like it’s one full word.

“I know, I know. Your missus is lucky she ain’t out with us right now,” Tommy replies.

“She’d sure as hell be laughin’ at our asses, if ‘m honest.”

Your eyes widen at the mention of you. You feel a twinge of guilt press on you but you can’t find it in yourself to hang up just yet. You just want to hear a little bit more… you think devilishly to yourself.

“What’s she up to tonight? Probably sittin’ at home missin’ you,” Tommy teases his brother.

Joel chuckles. “Guarantee she loves it, probably got one of her sappy little movies on. Silly fuckin’ girl...” You smile at how well he knows you and press the phone a little closer.

“C’mon, know you watch ‘em with her, too,” Tommy slurs a bit.

“Can’t say no to a face like that… and a mouth like that…” Joel says boldly. You feel your eyes go wide and you hold back a gasp. You feel your cheeks starting to burn a little to hear the way Joel’s being so open with his brother, the implication behind his words heavy with innuendo.

“Chriiiiist, here wegoagain,” Tommy says quickly, slurring. You furrow your brow, picking up on the fact that Tommy has heard Joel talking like this before, like it’s completely normal for them. You start to feel a pleasant little swirl deep in your gut at the fact that Joel brags about those particular abilities of yours.

You think you hear them both chuckle a little bit. “Know I can’t help m’self Tommy. Fuckin’ body of an angel, mouth of a fuckin’ devil, lord. Could go on about it f’days.”

Tommy seems quiet for a moment, just listening. “You always brag too much, brother. ‘Sides, she says nothin’ but sweet things and you know it. Nicest little gal around.”

“Who said anything about the things she’s saying?” Joel quips back.

“Fuckin’ hell. Yeah, I get it, your wife gives good head, yeah?” Tommy snips, but it sounds more playful than angry to you.

You can picture your husband, face flushed from the alcohol and hair a little messy, leaning forward and grinning in that devilish way. “Suckin cocks’s not the only thing she’s good at. Practically everything, really, but lord does that woman know how to do just what I want. She’s a real good listener, my girl.” Your thighs clench together and you feel your breathing hitch. Just Joel basically calling you a good girl from afar has you feeling like an animal in heat all of a sudden. You throw the blanket off as you feel your body starting to warm up and a soft smile comes to your face.

You hear silence from Tommy’s end, maybe too stunned to speak, clearly giving Joel permission to keep going.

“Y’know the best part? I got her listenin’ so good, she’ll do just about anythin’. Let me fuck her whenver I needta, you get me?”

“Christ Jesus, Joel, whatever the hell was in this fuckin’ beer got you too open tonight…”

“Can’t a man brag about his wife without gettin’ hounded? Jus’ wanted to share a lil love for my sweet gal.”

“Alright, alright, but shut the hell up now,” Tommy says with a howl of laughter, and the phone goes a little quieter, assuming Joel adjusted in his seat.

“Jealous, jealous…” Joel taunts.

“Shut. It. Or we’re gonna have a real bar fight on our hands here,” Tommy threatens teasingly. Their words continue to jumble a bit, and you can tell they’re both reaching close to their limit on beer and liquor for the evening.

“Oh, fine,” Joel finally says, vowing to get off the topic.

You feel a surge of pride that you witnessed something so special, so pure, despite the filthy things he was saying about the two of you. It just felt like pure love and adoration, even when you weren’t in the room to hear it. It makes your heart skip a little bit to know that Joel talks so highly of you even when he isn’t around you, going so far as to brag about such intimate things with his brother. You know it was lewd, but it made you feel that warm feeling you get whenever Joel shows you off in any way.

Lost deep in thought, you’ve already started to tune out their next batch of teasing and laughter as they move on to a new topic, so you decide to hang up the phone and let them get on with their night.

You feel a lingering pride to be Joel’s wife sticking with you as you when you go back to watching the movie. Your heart feels so light and free right now, and you find yourself yearning for him to come home just so you can unload some of this love onto him as it bubbles up inside of you.

Another hour and a half later, you hear keys jingling outside the door before the lock clicks and the front door swings open clumsily. Joel spots you instantly, curled up on the couch with a wide smile as soon as your eyes flick over to him. You sit up and stretch a little, taking in the full, broad form of him fumbling about as he walks in.

“Oh, hello there,” he says in a low, goofy voice. He stumbles in a little, a goofy smile on his face as he tries to take off his shoes.

“Feelin’ good, handsome?” you tease him, trying not to laugh at how absolutely adorable your husband is when he’s a little drunk.

“Better ‘n good, now. Home with my pretty girl…” he coos. You stand up, bounding over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling yourself close as quickly as you can.

“Oh,” he puffs out as you practically slam into his chest. One hand immediately wraps around your waist, drawing you closer, the heat of his hand burning through your thin tee shirt, and the other splays across the back of your head, pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You moan quietly, a little desperate mewl climbing its way out of your throat as his lips devour you. You can taste his evening - beers and liquor and… a cigar? You should chastise him for that one, you think, but you know Tommy can be a bad influence so you let it slide in lieu of some more kisses from him. You deepen it and slide your tongue into his mouth, and he happily returns it, tongues skimming each other for a few moments before you pull back, gently biting his bottom lip on the way.

“Hell, what’d a guy do to deserve a kiss like that, hm?” Joel muses, a little tipsy sounding. His hand comes around your head to stroke your cheek, thumb lingering as he traces down the soft skin there.

“Just wanted to show you all the things I’m good at, since that’s what you said, right?” you tease him, knowing he likely won’t even be able to piece in together in his current state.

Joel’s face scrunches up a bit, his brows drawing together as he tries to wrack his hazy brain for any clue of what you’re referring to.

“Not just good for ‘suckin’ cock’?” you say, your voice low, a furtive little whisper right near his ear. You peel back a bit to see his eyes widen a little, more confused than ever.

“Wh-”

“Butt dial, darling,” you tell him, pecking his cheek.

Joel laughs, a nervous yet comfortable laugh, able to read you well enough to know you aren’t upset about what he said, just amused. His laugh turns to a low chuckle, a little mischievous glint in his eye. His hand slides down from the small of your back to you ass, giving it a gentle, swift pat.

“And aren’t you a naughty girl for listenin’ in on my private conversation, hm?” he teases, bringing his lips within an inch of yours.

“Couldn’t help myself, had to hear what my husband really thinks of me.” You move your lips the slightest bit, brushing against his in a soft touch. “Good thing it’s not anything I didn’t already know…” You pull back suddenly, giving him a wink and putting a little space between the two of you.

“In that kind of mood tonight, are we, doll? Little bit bratty?” Joel asks with raised brows. “Gonna have to make you prove to me everything I told Tommy is true then, aren’t I?” Joel’s eyes go hungrier, a deep, feral need growing in his core and showing up right in his dark irises.

You shrug and turn to walk away, but Joel grabs onto your wrist, spinning you back against him. “Nuh uh, not so fast. You’re comin’ with me, darlin’” he spits out. In a split second his arms are on either side of your waist, hoisting you up and then tossing you over his shoulder so that your head is hanging down his back.

“H-hey!” You giggle, swinging your feet to try and get down, knowing it’s no use, and if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t want to escape, of course. Not from a hold this good.

Joel’s hand reaches up and smacks your ass hard as he carries you towards the stairs. “Now let’s go and you can tell me all about everything you heard me sayin’ tonight.”

You smile wide, feeling your mind and body already buzzing for your husband and all the things he seemed to have in store for you. It was going to be a fun night, indeed.

plw taglist: @aphterthoughtt @bbyanarchist @amy172 @hazzaismyreligion @ohheypedrito @msmorningstaarr @kamcrazy123 @madhere @paleidiot @saverockandroll54 @daddy-din

#LOVED THIS SO MUCHHH #fucking sexy little cuties #fic: pretty little wife #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction

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miniwheat77 · 1 year

Text

Maybe One Day. (Ghost x Petite!Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, Size kink, Ghost being a little talkative, petite!reader, unprotected sex, some sad parts, mentions of death, blood, violence, (sorry if I missed any)

(Summary): Reader is in love with Ghost but is okay with the fact that it’ll never lead anywhere.

I got a petite!reader ask, you can find that here.

If she wasn’t on her phone, working, or buried in a book, she was thinking about him. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley.

Y/N has worked alongside Ghost for quite some time now. A few years. From the very moment she’d laid eyes on him, she fell in love. As time went on, her feelings only seemed to grow for him. Up to this point, the fifth year working alongside him, she’d had very limited conversations with him. Anytime she made an attempt to deepen any kind of conversation, he shrugged her off. At first, she thought maybe if she talked to him enough. Close enough to him, maybe. Just maybe something would happen. But he ignored her, walked away from her, and always kept it short. So she gave up after about a year. From then on, the last four years after that, she kept it professional. Only talked to Ghost on missions when she absolutely had to. Didn’t interact with him on base aside from small waves, and kept to herself for the most part.

She made an attempt to hide the feelings she had for Ghost, but it didn’t always work. Most people caught on. The waves, the way she smiled and acted all giddy when he was around. Everything. She was nice to everyone but it was different when it came to Ghost. Nearly anybody could tell. Soap looked at her from the hallway. Ghost stood next to him. “Are you sure about this Ghost?” Soap asks. Ghost nods his head. You were currently folding up a table cloth. Soap sighs, spinning on his heels and entering the mess hall.

"Hey." He smiles. "Uh.. hi." You smile. "You scared me."

"Oh, my bad." He smiles. "I just heard you come out and thought I'd come talk to you."

“About what?”

"Simon."

"What about him?"

"I.. think you know."

You pause for a moment. Looking down at your feet.

"That obvious ah?" You smile. "Uhh.. maybe just a little bit." Soap laughs. "I just… I wouldn't want you getting hurt Y/N. He's kinda.. guarded. Yknow?"

"Oh I know Soap. There's no chance in hell we'd ever work out. Hell, it'd be a shot in the dark if he was even into me." Soap knows you're keeping it together but he can see the hurt in your eyes.

"What?"

"I'm.. not that interesting." You laugh. Simon waited right on the other side of the wall, listening in.

"I think he's just well guarded Y/N. There's nothing wrong with you."

You let out a small laugh, looking down at the ground. "Yeah. I know that nothing will ever come of it. It's just a dumb crush, nothing more."

Soap was only talking to you because Simon asked him to. He told Soap that there was no chance anything would ever work between the two of you and he needed you to know exactly what to expect. After finishing up the conversation with Soap, it had been made clear. Ghost had put Soap up to it. Which meant Ghost was getting tired of it or you’d been making him uncomfortable. You just wished Ghost had come to you about it personally rather than making it everyone else’s business and embarrassing you like that. After that day, you started ignoring Ghost. No more small waves when passing by. No more making conversation with him up on the roof when you took over watch, no more offering to take over his shifts or helping him with his chores. You drew back completely and passed by him with a cold shoulder. You were short when he needed to talk to you, just like he’d been with you. He noticed it immediately.

After a week or so, everyone noticed you hadn’t been active. Nobody had seen you in passing, nobody had talked to you or seen you during meals, and they noticed your captain was picking up your part of the chores. It was unusual. Eventually after they all pestered their Captain enough, he finally caved. “Alright fine. Meet in my office after Lunch and we’ll talk. But this stays between all of us.” He glares. They all nod their heads. After lunch, everyone met up. Ghost waited until a few minutes after, hiding in the hallway. “Alright. Y/N has been on rest in her room until we can get her home. She got a phone call about a week ago that her younger brother was killed in a car accident. She’s very upset, and you guys need to leave her be unless she comes to you for help. Am I clear?” He says. Everyone nods their heads. As everyone finishes up the conversation, Ghost notices a flash of black pass by the doorway to Captain Price’s office. He follows whatever it is, noticing you in the mess hall picking up the lukewarm pot of coffee. Once their conversation was done, Captain Price came in. When he sees you, he’s curious. “Hey, what’re you doing out of your room?” He asks. You raise the cup of coffee. John nods. You say nothing, making your way back to your room. It was odd for the both of them to see you in night clothes. Just shorts and a t-shirt. John looks at Ghost, getting a shrug back.

The following day, Ghost is eating breakfast with Soap in the mess hall. It’s only them and Captain Price inside so far. To their surprise, you walk inside. Broom in hand. You start sweeping up the mess hall. Something you did on a daily basis. It was a very small part of your chores. Not just that, you have your full uniform on. “Uh.. Y/N.” John looks up from his coffee. You pause, looking at him. Your eyes are bloodshot. You look like you haven’t slept in days. “You don’t have to do that, I got you covered. We’re trying to get you home.” You don’t stop sweeping. “They had his funeral already, I have no reason to go home. I’ll be just fine here, thanks anyways Captain.” You sweep everything into the dustpan, walking off. John sighs.

This goes on for a couple days. You’re on edge. Nobody sees you eat, you don’t sleep very well. You’re struggling and there’s nothing anybody can do. Everyone tells Ghost to check up on you. You like Ghost, maybe you’d open up to him. And he did try. Went out of his comfort zone to ask you how you’re doing. You gave him a short “I’m fine.” And shrugged him off after that.

To you, he didn’t care. Nobody cared. They were coworkers, nothing more. They didn’t care what you were going through, they only cared about what you were useful for.

You sat quietly on the chopper. Everyone else made small talk but you, you just stared ahead. You had a blank expression on your face. Like you were staring right through everything. Expressionless, emotionless. Like you weren’t there. Soap is the first to notice, but knows not to get involved. You’re struggling. The last thing you need is someone pestering you. “Alright. Don’t forget the plan. Y/N and Ghost are frontlines. Entering through vents on the rooftops. Gaz and I will be posting guard with rifles, Soap will be entering through the mines. It’s where the least amount of threats are.” Your Captain explains more details before the chopper lands, and when it lands it’s a go. You and Ghost quickly make your way inside, dropping tear gas through the vents and waiting for it to dissolve completely before jumping in.

Ghost notices immediately you’re more ruthless than before. Wearing no emotion on your face as you ambush people, stabbing them. Blood spatters over your face and you don’t even flinch as it does. It’s shocking to see someone so small being so violent. Successfully at that. When the buildings are clear, you’re leaning up against a pool table in the back room. Ghost is sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. “You told Captain they had his Funeral already. They didn’t wait for you?” Ghost asks. “No.” You rolls your eyes. “Why?” He asks. Drawing a chuckle from your lips. You cross your arms, not turning your head to even look at him. “Deadbeat parents, they don’t give a fuck about me or how I feel.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He sighs. “Luck of the draw, how d’ya think I ended up in this shit show?”

The body in front of Ghost has one of your knives in his chest, you walk over to it. Pressing your foot down onto his shoulder and pulling the knife out of him. You wipe it off on your pants before returning back to where you were leaning at the pool table. Everyone else walks into the room, lowering their weapons when they see you and Ghost waiting patiently. They look like they had a hell of a fight. “We gave you guys the hardest task and you look untouched.” Captain Price laughs. “Just too good.” You shrug, walking passed them. Soap smiles, stepping in. “Successful mission.” He holds up a flash drive. The one you’d been looking for. “Fuck yeah.” You smile. You still had that same pain in your eyes. No matter how happy you seemed, it stayed there. You twirl the knife in your hand the entire way back to the chopper, and just like before. You’re staring off into space. Brain in an entire different dimension as you spin it around in your hand.

Overtime, Ghost notices you more and more. How much different you’ve become, how cold you’ve been acting. You’re still giving him the cold shoulder. Still not making much conversation with him.

He makes his way onto the watch post, seeing you sitting back in a chair with your feet kicked up, looking at the room full of cameras. He makes his way up to you, he’s a few minutes early. You stand up, picking up your items and going to walk away. “Leaving so soon?” He asks. You pause, body going rigid. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” You still have your back turned to him. “Just thought you’d want to make some small talk. Talk about what’s going on.” He shrugs. You turn around, a smile on your face. “Yeah, let’s be friends, we’ll exchange stories about our shitty lives. It’ll be a sleepover.” You smile. “So that’s a no.” He chuckles. You bite your lip for just a second, taking a step toward him. “What? You want to be friends now? The few times I tried making small talk with you, you had Soap tell me to leave you alone. So no, I don’t really feel like talking.” You roll your eyes, spinning to walk around. “I had him tell you to back off because I could tell you liked me. I knew you wanted to be more than friends.” You laugh, “See that’s where you’re mistaken Ghost, we’re not friends. Hell, we’re not even acquaintances. You and I? We’re just coworkers. Nothing more.” With that, you walk down the stairs. It stings Ghost a little bit that you’re so cold to him, but really he asked for this. “Hey!” He calls to you. “I’m your superior, when Captain Price isn’t around, you answer to me, Sergeant.” You turn around, smirk at your lips. You cross you arms, taking a couple steps up the stairs. “Yeah? What can I do for you, Lieutenant.” The venom in your voice is potent. “Go back inside the watch tower.” You roll your eyes. “Yes sir.” You throw your bag back down once you step inside. Ghost closes the door. “Sit down.” You hate that you have to listen to him. But you do anyways. Crossing your arms and leaning back. “Good. Now talk.” He looks at you. “About what?”

“What’s bothering you?” He asks. You narrow your eyes. “You already know what’s bothering me.”

He shakes his head. “Can we just be done here? Or am I going to have to fight my way out?” Ghost let’s out a deep chuckle. “Sweetheart, you can’t fight me. You won’t win.” A scoff leaves your lips. “The hell is that supposed to mean?” He laughs. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re tiny. I could pick you up with one hand.” He sits back in his chair, the tight shirt he has on tightens perfectly over his arms and shoulders. You swallow hard, but Ghost doesn’t miss it. “You’re hiding something else, something else was bothering you.” You raise your eyebrows, giving him a ‘are you fucking serious.’ Look. “You’re joking right?” You laugh. He looks confused. “You assumed that I like you, and instead of coming to me to tell me to back off, you told someone else to come to me and say it. Not only is that a concern that should have stayed between the both of us, but it’s pretty embarrassing that everyone knows now.” You roll your eyes. “Okay. That was a bad call on my part. I’m sorry.” He places his hands on his thighs. Your eyes glancing at them for a split second. “Are we done now?” You swallow hard. “I suppose.” He mumbles.

—

A few weeks later, Captain Price put you on leave for a week.

When you come back, you seem in worse shape than before. Ghost is the first to notice. You look like you haven’t been eating or sleeping. It’s late and he can hear weights crashing in the gym, pulling himself out his bed to go check on whoever it is, not surprised to see that it’s you. “Bad idea to do that without a spotter.” He mumbles. He rubs his eyes tiredly. His mask isn’t on straight, he just threw it on really quick. You say nothing in return. “Y/N, what’s going on?” You’re breathing hard from lifting the weight up. “Parents lied about my little brother dying, wanted me to send money for his funeral so that they could just have the money.” You breathe. Teeth gritted as you lift the weight. “They’ve brainwashed him, made him hate me. I got nobody left.” You’re panting hard, groaning as you lift the weight. Ghost takes it from your hands, lifting it up with one hand and laying it in the rack. “Talk to me.” He breathes. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by you. What you were just struggling to lift, he lifted with one hand.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts. “I don’t have anybody either. That’s why I joined the military in the first place, but it’s not exactly worked out too well in my favor because 141 is like my family. Something I’ve never had.” He breathes. You laugh. “How sweet.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m serious. We look out for each other. Make sure everyone is okay all the time, why you think I’m here hm? Everyone worries about you.” You laugh. “That’s complete bullshit and you know it. I used to try to talk to you all of the time and you just shrugged me off like nothing. Nothing was different between then and now. You’re free to leave whenever you want, Ghost.” You roll your eyes. He takes a deep breath. He’s clearly getting frustrated with you. “Why do you care about em? Hm? They don’t give a fuck about you, never have. Why lose sleep over it? I don’t.” He shrugs. “Rough concept. Maybe you’re just mentally stronger than me. But that’s not exactly my point.” You roll your eyes. You stand up, walking away to another area to work out. “Look. It’s almost midnight and we have to be up at 6. I’m not too keen on losing this much sleep. Let’s go to bed, we’ll talk more tomorrow.” He mumbles. “Go ahead, I’m not making you stay here.”

“Goddamnit.” He mumbles. He makes his way near you as you reach for a bar, he lifts you up with ease, throwing you over his shoulder. “Simon! Put me down!”

“No. You’re going to bed.”

“I’ll just lay awake.”

“Than you’ll lay awake in my bed.”

Your body goes rigid and Ghost chuckles. He opens his door up and spins around to close and lock it behind him. He throws you down onto his bed and you bounce up, scrambling to prop yourself up onto your elbows. He grasps the hem of his shirt, pulling it off. “Um.. what the fuck is going on?” You ask. He straddles your hips, leaning down into you. You let yourself fall all of the way back, backing away from his face. He laughs. “This is what you wanted, right?” You shake your head. “No-no. I don’t want your weird pity s-“ he covers your throat with his hand, the small size of you has him smiling. He likes the control he has over you. “Mnot trying to fuck you out of pity. I know you like me, I know you want to fuck me. I wanna fuck you too.” He mumbles. This side of Simon is weird. You’re used to the guarded, quiet Simon. This was new. “I like you, have forever. S’just a bad idea to start something with someone when you could die any day. But you don’t mind right?” He smirks. He pulls his mask off, and you swallow hard, seeing him.

All of him.

Everyone on base but you had seen his face.

“You’re so tiny..” he mumbles. “So easy to..” he pins your hips down into his bed. Earning a gasp from your lips. “You want me to fuck you or not?” He bites his lip. You swallow hard, cheeks burning. You nod slowly. He smirks, tugging his sweatpants down his legs. You’re only wearing a tank top and shorts, since you were working out. He tugs them off of you quickly. He is massive, you swallow hard when you see the size of his cock. He can’t help but chuckle at your reaction. “Don’t worry, M’gonna make you feel real good. Just try to be quiet for me.” He lines himself up with your entrance and you breathe out. All of the pining you’d done. The sleep you lost over him, everything. And now? A deep breath leaves your lips when he prods at your opening. The tip of his fat cock disappearing between your folds. He’s stretching you already and he’s barely started. He groans out, holding onto your hips tightly. Holding you exactly where he wants you. He clamps a hand over your mouth when he thrusts all of the way inside of you, enjoying the way your eyes roll back as he bottoms out. He’s huge. When he starts fucking into you, it’s intense. You’re watching him disappear inside of you. He says something but you aren’t listening. “Don’t tell me you’re cock drunk already?” He chuckles. He pushes you back by your chest, shoving his thumb into your mouth. “Such a good girl.” Your mouth makes his cock twitch slightly. You’re tight around Simon and he moans out. “So. Fucking. Good.” He groans between thrusts. You’re surprised how vocal he is.

You feel a high approaching already and he notices how wet you’re getting on him. He bites his lip. Lowering his gaze so that he can watch his big cock disappear into your little hole. He’s gritting his teeth, keeping a steady pace and you tilt your head back. “Ah! S-Simon-“ you whimper. “S’alright. You can cum baby.” He mumbles, leaning down slightly and attaching his lips to yours for the first time. It sends you right into a su space, the softness of his lips has you disappearing. Your moans get muffled by him as he fucks you through your first high. It won’t be your last of the night. Your thighs shake as he overstimulates you. Not giving you anytime to adjust to him. “Fuck you get so tight on me when you cum.” He groans. He starts to rock his hips into yours a little faster than before. He’s eager, wanting his own high. “Why don’t you ride me, hm?” You nod your head. He slides out of you, moving so that you can sit up. When he lays down you straddle him, lowering yourself onto him. Hissing at the new angle, he’s going too deep. He chuckles. “It’s okay.” You rock your hips up, turning around to see how far you’re taking him down. “Try to take all of me.” He mumbles. “I-I can’t.” He chuckles. “You can. Just relax for me.” You nod your head, if you wanted to stop now, he’d let you obviously. He runs his hands up your thighs, resting on your hips. He licks his lips when he forces your hips down onto him, a gasp leaving your lips as he bottoms out again. Your legs weaken and you rest yourself onto him.

You give yourself a second to adjust and he doesn’t try to make you. Letting you rock your hips into him, getting used to it. Pretty soon, you’re bouncing on his cock, moaning out. He’s smiling a lazy smile at you, loving how dirty it is. You’re addicted to him, chasing your high on his cock. He’s getting close and he can tell you’re close too by the way you’re tightening around him and the intensity of your moans. He’s panting hard, thighs clenching and lower stomach knotting up. That sweet knot was going to unravel and against his better judgement, if you don’t stop. He’s going to fill your little pussy full of his cum. You’re rocking back and fourth in him, feeling so good. He loves seeing it, loves seeing you pleasure yourself on him. It’s just a bonus that he gets to watch it, and cum too. This is so much better than jerking off. It’s all he’s done to cum in the last few years. He wanted to make a move on you sooner but knew it was a bad idea. He grips your thighs, helping guide you onto him. “Got me fucking close baby.” He groans. “M-me too.” You pant. Your eyes are watering from being overwhelmed. He lifts his hips into yours, getting frustrated and holding you up so he can thrust up into you. “Oh fuck-“ his voice cracks and a whimper leaves his lips. “I’m gonna cum.” He pants. “Fuck I’m gonna cum baby-“ he cries. “Me too Simon-“ a gasp leaves your lips when you hit your second high, feeling his warmth spill into your depths. Filling you up. Your lips are parted and you’re resting your hands on his chest. Feeling him leak down out of you.

You climb off him, going to stand up but he stops you, pulling you back into him. “Relax.” He breathes. “Sleep here.” He mumbles. Pulling you into his front. “Simon-“ he stops you. “We can talk more about this tomorrow alright? But you need sleep, and I got you. I always got you. Just sleep for now.” He breathes. Feeling his warmth and the way his arms are wrapping around you is too much. You feel your eyes getting heavy.

@clove-shitposts

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #ghost fanfiction #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley

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etherealising · 8 months

Text

chapter eight | to see a friend, to see a ghost

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: a secret you’ve been keeping from carmen finally comes to light.

wc: 8.9k

song inspo: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 (highly recommend to add to the heartbreak!)

If it was any later and the sky was any darker, you might have been startled by the figure waiting on your porch. But as you approached, arms occupied with bags full of decorations, you recognized that patch color jacket, and the baseball cap not doing nearly enough to disguise his features.

Stopping before your steps you just looked at the person for a minute, the man was obviously zoned out if he hadn’t already been alerted to your presence from the sound of your car arriving and now the slap of your boots against the pavement.

When you left that voicemail earlier, you hadn’t expected Carmy to take immediate action, it wasn’t like him. You also didn’t expect him to show up unannounced but maybe you should’ve waited before sending your address in that group text.

You made your way up the steps, the jingling keys in your hand finally drew the man’s attention, and the speed at which he flew off the chair situated on your porch was almost comical. Your eyes darted to his, taking in what you could see of his figure that wasn’t hidden behind his jacket or hat. He held two paper bags in one hand and the package you had been expecting in the other, sure the delivery driver just left it with him.

The silence stretched between the two of you. You could see Carmen begin to fidget in your peripheral vision; good he deserved to be uncomfortable for a minute or two.

Finally unlocking the door you pushed through, pausing to take your shoes off. The man behind you hesitated, not sure if he should move forward to follow behind you or not. He took a minute before stepping forward, your eyes meeting his as you stood between his only entrance.

“I don’t remember inviting you in,” it was harsh, but it was also the truth.

He stopped for a moment, cheeks flushing pink as he cleared his throat, “Can I uh, is it okay if I come in?”

It would have been easy to deny him access, leave him out here on your porch, or even allow him to squirm more. But you could hear Pete’s words playing in your mind as you thought of all the petty things you wanted to do at that moment.

You let out an exasperated sigh the constant back and forth between the two of you was finally catching up. You nodded before heading to your living room to drop the bags off on the couch, the open door an invitation for the man on your porch. The bags were safely deposited on your couch as you moved to head into your kitchen, stopping short as you spotted Carmy still standing in your foyer.

A chuckle escaped your lips at the awkward man. You made your way to him, stopping in front of him and taking the package from his hand and the two grocery bags. “You can leave your shoes and jacket out here.” You left him standing alone in the foyer, confident he would find his way to you eventually.

Carmen watched as you disappeared further into your house, the man quickly shedding his shoes and accessories, stopping at the mirror by the coat rack to tame his messy hat hair. He felt like a teenager all over again, fussing over how he would present himself to you. Carmy moved in the direction you had gone in, steps slowing as he tried to take in everything he could about your abode, from the decorations to the colors swatched on your walls. It all reminded him of things he missed out on with you, would you have gushed to him about the prospect of owning a home? Would you have asked his opinion on design choices?

The two of you had once gone to each other for everything, and because he was afraid of being completely vulnerable to his feelings for you, he felt like a stranger on the outside looking in.

He found you in the kitchen, eyes locked on the bottle of wine in your hands he brought with him, “You uh…talked about how much you loved it back in New York so I-I thought it might be nice to have it again.”

Your index finger traced the label of the bottle in your hand, memories of that weekend flooding through you, but that’s just what they were; memories. It was the present day now and no matter the itch you felt to let the red wine warm your mouth, drink enough of it to dull your senses, you wouldn’t allow yourself to.

“What are we doing Carmen?” The bottle of red was gently placed on your island as you looked at the man standing in the space just between your kitchen and living room.

Seeing him in a space that had been wholly your own felt a little weird, you didn’t want to think about the times you imagined what it would’ve been like to share such a space with him as you watched him stand in your house like he was meant to be there; like he belonged.

“I got your voicemail,” you leaned your elbows on the counter propping your head up as you listened. “This is me accepting your olive branch, I just…wanna make things right between us..” The explanation pulled a sigh from your lips, fingers tracing patterns into the marble island beneath you. You left the voicemail with the assumption that it would take Carmen a bit to get back to you, he had never been adamant about fixing your relationship before.

“You also have something I need,” Carmen watched as you raised your eyebrows, eyes leaving the spot you were tracing.

“And what would that be?” The scar between your eyebrows felt tight as your face pulled into a frown, your brain wandering to figure out what you could possibly have that Carmen would need.

Carmen sent a small smile your way, “Let’s cook and we’ll talk about it after.” You watched as the man joined you on the opposite side of your island reaching to remove the rest of the food from their bags.

The genuine laugh that bubbled out of your chest filled Carmy with warmth, “Do you always walk into people's houses and try and negotiate?”

Carmy did his best to control the warm fluttery feeling in his chest, the weeks without you were hard and the fact that your laugh could ease his full body ache was enough for him to realize just how much he wanted you as a constant in his life. “I didn’t think I’d make it this far.”

A silence lapsed between the two of you as you helped unpack the rest of the food. This whole situation felt like a bad idea, you definitely weren’t over Carmen’s stunt or the previous incidents where he let you down. But you had been skating through this year on borrowed time, and the time apart helped to calm your anger, you felt like you were in a much more level headed place to finally figure out what the hell this thing was between the two of you. And Pete’s words at lunch helped to give you a new perspective on the whole situation.

“What the hell are we even making?” Baking was your preferred form of cooking, so as you looked at all the ingredients laid out it was a bit confusing to piece the meal together.

The sound of your voice warmed Carmen’s senses, the silky tone danced through his ears buzzing against his brain. “Chicken Marsala.”

You nodded, declining a glass of wine with dinner was one thing, but now looking at the new bottle of Marsala that would be in your meal, you’d have to decline the whole dinner.

“That sounds so fucking delicious but I…I actually can’t eat it.”

Carmen stopped his ministrations with the ingredients, “No you’re good I uh I didn’t get anything you’re allergic to.” His eyes darted across the ingredients double checking that he hadn’t bought any compromising ingredients.

“Thank you, Carm, your consideration is thoughtful.” The extra measure made your heart rate speed up.

It was crazy really how the same man standing in your kitchen swearing up and down he didn’t buy any foods you were allergic to, could also be the same man who came across as uncaring.

“I appreciate the effort I do but…” Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. How could you admit to your best friend, the person who once knew you most, that almost a year ago you were staring at blank hospital walls as some doctor explained to both you and Natalie just how close to death you were? “Carmy I-”

The hand resting on your elbow helped to calm your breathing, it wasn’t like you weren’t ready to admit your overdose to Carmy, you were just worried about the aftermath. “Baby hey, you with me?” You felt the hand skate down your arm, Carmy’s thumb soothingly caressing your pulse point.

You turned to face Carmen searching his eyes, doing your best to memorize the way he looked at you, unsure if you’d ever be graced with this intimate gaze again. “Carmen I…I’ve been sober for 7 months.”

The silence in your kitchen was loud, You needed Carmy to say something to you, yell at you, call you a hypocrite for blowing up on him all those weeks ago when you had been the one lying to him this whole time. It would be easier if the blank wide-eyed look on his face morphed into one of disgust, hatred, hell any emotion would’ve been welcome. “You fuckin’ with me right?” The apprehension in his voice was the result of not knowing if he could bear to hear the idea that something so heinous could plague you.

The wobble of your bottom lip was enough, Carmen’s eyes skated across your face landing on the three prominent features that had been added to your appearance; the tiny scar on your upper lip, the one between your brows, and the jagged raised one stretching the length of your jaw.

The breath in your throat hitched as his finger slowly traced the long scar, the touch sent shivers through you. Your eyes watched him as he watched you, finger deliberately taking in the pattern on your jaw, his hand unconsciously moved to cup your face in the way he liked, forefinger pressed into your hidden tattoo as his thumb began caressing the corner of your lips.

“What the fuck happened to you, Baby?”

The shower you just finished was much needed, Carmy volunteering to pick up different ingredients while you relaxed before the two of you began this search for the truth. He didn’t say it but you knew he needed some time to internalize the small piece of truth you told him, to rationalize just how much you had gone through in your time apart.

You could hear Carmen shuffling around in your kitchen as you stepped out of the bathroom, steam following you out. Grabbing your moisturizer you moved to sit on the edge of your bed, mind racing to figure out what you were even doing putting yourself in this situation.

These past three weeks without Carmen felt needed, you were thankful for the time apart to focus on yourself and your wellbeing. But it always felt like there was a piece of you missing, it felt like that every time the two of you parted ways. The difference was instead of spending the time apart worrying over Carmy every minute you had finally put yourself first, and began living for yourself just like Tina had advised all those years ago.

And while a part of you wanted to continue this childish charade of ignoring Carmy, only showing up at the restaurant when Richie assured you he wouldn’t be there; you couldn’t. It took too much energy to live your life around Carmen’s especially since the two of you were so much more involved with each other than you had been in a while. Even without Pete’s words of advice, you could see the toll it was taking on the people around you. Natalie was too scared to even mention her brother for fear you’d have a meltdown. Richie’s anger for your situation souring his relationship with Carmen. And Carmen himself, he who had become a haggard sunken-in version of himself, the time apart affected him the worst his patience nowhere to be seen from the few times Richie had offhandedly mentioned him in your presence.

The two of you had been in each other's lives for longer than you could remember and you didn’t want to lose that friendship over your pride. During your time away from Carmen, you had come to the decision that you would be fine if all that was fated to be between you two was a friendship.

More recently you had decided that maybe it was for the best, maybe the two of you were never meant for anything more, anything good. Maybe it was naive to think you deserved anything good with all the hurt your selfish choices caused. Maybe it was best not to take any time and attention away from your recovery. This friendship was just a whole bunch of fucking ‘maybes’ recently.

But one could say that ‘friendship’ went out the window when the two of you crossed that blurred line a year ago.

You paused as your hand reached for the old crew neck you’d usually sleep in, as much as you loved the garment you couldn’t allow yourself to give Carmen any false hope about what would come from this. Walking into your closet you quickly grabbed your oversized ‘The Beef’ crew neck, slipping it over your head before stepping into your sleep shorts and a pair of fuzzy socks.

Exiting your bedroom you stopped by your record player, buying yourself time before you’d have to face Carmen and all the truth that would be exposed in this one conversation alone. You flicked through your vinyl selection before picking your favorite one, needing something comforting for everything that was bound to transpire.

You entered your kitchen seeing Carmy’s back at your stove sent an ache through you. The man cooking in your kitchen was a vision you had more than once, it was almost right, the only thing missing was the small figure you imagined standing in a chair next to Carmy watching from over his shoulder.

“Smells delicious Carm,” you sent a tired smile his way as he looked over his shoulder at you, eyes falling just above his own, no courage left in you to take in the look he was giving you. “What did you end up cooking?” Carmen’s eyes were stuck to you, your words falling on deaf ears, you fidgeted in your spot, the insecurity of being judged by the one person you didn’t think you could handle it from, weighed heavy on you.

Carmen cleared his throat as he watched you sink into yourself. He hadn’t meant to make you feel any type of way with his stare, he was just having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that things had been so bad for you and he had no idea because of his selfish inclinations. “It’s uh Chicken Alfredo, I thought it was safest.”

The air in the kitchen was tense, neither of you knowing how to be around the other at this moment, and you hadn’t even gotten down to the harsh truth of everything yet. “Can you…uh what do you mean you’re sober? I-I know what it means jus-I,” you watched as Carmy closed his eyes, a huff escaping him as he couldn’t articulate what he wanted to say. “Baby, help me understand. Please?”

You could hear the thickness in Carmy’s voice, the two of you watching each other with matching glazed stares. You stood frozen for a minute, your fight or flight instincts kicking in and it took everything in you not to leave the conversation as it was. A sigh escaped you before you nodded your head and hopped to sit on the island, fingers picking at the stray threads on your shorts.

Carmy turned the fire on the stove down before turning to lean against the counter next to your stove, the two of you now facing each other. The distance between you felt like it stretched on for miles, and maybe it did, the two of you didn’t know each other like you once used to. You and Carmy weren’t the same teenagers who shared everything, even the smiles you shared at this point in life held a different meaning.

You never knew where to start this story, was it better to ease the person in, or was it better to just rip the band-aid off all at once? “Now that I’m better I don’t think any reason was good enough for what I did to myself…what I did to the people I love. But uh, Mikey’s death was definitely a catalyst for everything.” You looked up to see Carmy watching you intensely, arms crossed over his chest, you can’t remember a time you’d ever seen him look so serious.

“I was alone, and maybe that’s just an excuse. We…we just buried Mikey, and I was scared to believe he was really gone, it didn’t feel right. I didn’t want it to be true.” You sucked in a deep breath trying to gather your thoughts. “I stayed in Chicago for a long time after that, your mom…gosh she was a mess and I understood why her grief was valid, but I…I just knew Nat couldn’t, didn’t deserve to fix things alone, so I just kept extending my stay.” The small sigh Carmen breathed was lost as you settled more and more into your explanation.

“An-And Richie was doing his fucking best to keep The Beef open but I could tell it was taking a toll on him. Tiff had filed for divorce just months ago and then he was dealing with Mikey’s passing. And I think, I thought if I just helped everyone get better I wouldn’t need to grieve, because I was surrounded by all the people I loved, and their wellbeing mattered most to me.” Carmen’s eyes stayed on your figure allowing your words to settle into him, it hurt knowing how much slack you had to pick up because he couldn’t bring himself to face the music.

Quiet sniffles came from where you sat atop the island. “Carm, you weren’t there…and I promise I’m not blaming you for the decisions I made, none of that is on you. But I just wanted my best friend, and I just needed to know you were okay. And when you weren’t at the funeral my mind went to the worst thoughts first. But then I…I just showed up in New York and you acted like your world wasn’t ending and then I just felt selfish because how was it that your brother just died and I was the one acting like I’d lost the person I looked up to most.” Carmy could feel his chest tighten, your words becoming less and less easy to swallow the more you spoke.

“And for a moment it was like the world stopped screaming like all I needed was your presence to assure me that everything would be okay,” a small sad smile rose to your lips as you thought about your time spent with Carmy in New York. “It-it was blissful and everything I wanted but I knew it was ending, we both knew it was ending you didn’t see a future with me.” You had to stop yourself, a sob sure to be ripped out if you didn’t give yourself a minute, “And I accepted your decision, it was for the best.”

You hugged your knees to your chest, barely beginning to scratch the surface of the worst of what you’d done. The new position provided you the comfort and protection you felt you needed. “I got back to Chicago, and I was only supposed to be here for a few more weeks but then…then I-I got sick and Rich-.” You clasped your hands over your mouth unsure if you could lay all your indiscretions on Carmy at once, unsure if you could mentally handle the toll the two confessions you desperately needed to make would take on you.

Rough palms enclosed your cheeks, moving your head so that you were face to face with Carmy. You could see the unshed tears in his doe-blue eyes, but other than that he didn’t seem to be affected. “Take your time, yeah?” He nodded his head waiting for you to nod along with him so you knew it was okay. The left side of his lips ticked up in a half smile, you let him lean in and place a delicate kiss on your forehead before he moved out of your space. “I’m here okay, I’ll listen for as long as you let me.”

Carmen was making this harder than it needed to be, how could you justify telling him one secret and not the other when he was being so understanding? Carmy made to move back to his original position, your grip on his hand stopping him, a quiet sigh escaping his lips at how fragile you looked. “Lemme turn off the stove okay?” You reluctantly let go of his hand, scared that at the loss of contact, he would take his chance to flee from you.

You watched as he turned the stove off, moving the food he had been cooking to the back burners, you felt bad that he had cooked for the two of you and neither of you would be enjoying it. He moved around the kitchen fear spiking in you as you thought for sure he was going to leave, to wipe his hands of you. He returned to you with a glass of water that he delicately placed in your hands before replacing your legs to their original position and taking his spot between them. Carmy’s finger tapped the glass in your hands “Drink up.” A small nod was your only response as you did as told you before setting the glass down beside you.

Carmy returned his hand to your grasp nodding to let you know he was ready to continue if you were, you took one last deep breath mind made up on how you would handle the rest of this conversation. “He uh Richie, he found me in the walk-in. You know that moment when you know something is wrong but you don’t know how you know. It was kind of like that, like Richie and I both knew I had done something wrong and Carmy,” your voice quivered as your eyes met his, the tears falling at a faster pace as he looked at you so earnestly, hanging onto every word you said. “I’m so sorry.”

Carmen’s brows furrowed, eyes widening as you collapsed against him incoherent apologies addressed to him spewing from your lips. His head came to rest atop of yours as you shoved your face into his chest your words turned to messy babbling as you tried to choke out words through your sobs. For all his social ineptitude Carmy knew there was something you weren’t telling him, something you weren’t being entirely honest about, and he wasn’t sure how it tied into your sobriety. But the way you were apologizing to him made him feel like he was partly responsible.

Your cries were beginning to grow in volume and Carmy was at a loss for what to do. He’d seen you cry before, hell he’d caused most of it but he couldn’t recognize you at this moment. The sobs that escaped you were echoing through the quietude of your house, you had never been an audible crier, usually a few tears escaping your eyes were the most Carmen had gotten. But these cries wracked your entire body, Carmy could feel them rattling his rib cage each sob breaking his exterior down more and more.

He wrapped his arms around you letting your tears soak his shirt, his tears beginning to run down his cheeks. The grip he had on you tightened ever so slightly as you sobbed your throat raw. Carmen needed to know what could’ve caused this reaction, he needed to know what you could ever have to apologize to him for. He felt you moving to get out of his grip, but he held you there as his tears dripped into the crown of your head, quickly wiping his eyes before he pulled back from you allowing you a fresh breath of oxygen.

“Carmy?” Your voice was scratchy as you played with his fingers avoiding any form of eye contact, you raised his knuckles to your lips kissing the ‘ou’ on his middle and ring finger. “Could you hold me for a little bit?” You raised your head to Carmy’s doing your best to send him a reassuring smile, to let him know everything would be okay.

Carmen frowned, he knew that smile anywhere. Even when you were so obviously going through something he couldn’t quite yet understand you would put his feelings before your own. He let out an exasperated sigh your need to put others well being before your own a habit he swore to himself he’d break.

The hand you kissed raised to your face, a light grip on your chin as his thumb caressed the space beneath your lower lip. Carmy leaned forward placing a soft lingering kiss on the scar between your eyebrows, “Let’s take a break yeah?” Carmy watched your body deflate.

He took a step back as you hopped off of the island, the two of you moving to your L-shaped couch. Carmy laid down opening his arms to hold you like the two of you had done hundreds of times while growing up. He knew the gesture would pull a smile out of you, a soft chuckle leaving him as you easily snuggled into him. Your face reverting to its home in his chest, his chin once again resting against the top of your head.

The light atmosphere was short-lived as you relaxed into Carmy, all of your words finally beginning to sink into him. He was happy for the intermission the time would help him to understand what you had told him thus far, to figure out how he could ever make up for the way he constantly held the door open and let you walk out of his life. The way he essentially cut you out of his life because he was afraid to admit to himself that what he felt for you for all these years wasn’t just lust and longing, but love.

Carmy’s fingers had been gently rubbing your scalp for the past forty-five minutes, the position the two of you were in reminiscent of a scene from New York when you visited. Now it was being translated in your own home, Carmy was laying on the couch one arm settled behind his head to prop it up, looking down on you to make sure you were okay. You were settled between his legs, your upper body pressed into his stomach as your head rested on his sternum.

“Baby?” Carmy did his best to whisper, not wanting to disturb you in case you had fallen asleep.

“Hmm?” Your response was so quiet it was easy to miss, Carmy was unsure if you had let out a quiet hum or if you were making noises in your sleep.

He stopped his ministrations on your scalp, his lips ticking up at the soft whine you let out “You asleep?” The question was followed by his fingertips resuming their massage.

“No, your heartbeat is just soothing.” You snuggled your face deeper into Carmen’s stomach, the movement raising goosebumps on his exposed arms. “Carm?” Your quiet voice drew his attention the apprehension clear on his features as he prepared himself for the words soon to leave your mouth. “There’s something that I need to tell you…something that you deserve to know. B-but I don’t think I can do it tonight. And I know that’s not fair to you but I think for my own sake I need to be in a better space mentally.” You shuffled around again turning to lie facedown, one of your cheeks rested against Carmy’s stomach so you could comfortably look up at him.

The confusion in his eyes was evident, whatever it was you couldn’t tell him was making him beyond nervous. It was hard because you had never kept a secret from him unless you absolutely needed to, and when you did it was never for anything more serious than a gift you were getting for him. But he knew he couldn’t force whatever truth you had to tell out of you, a part of him felt a bit relaxed, not knowing how much bad news he could take in the span of one night.

Carmy’s hand reached out palming the side of your face, thumb grazing back and forth in the space just beneath your eye, “You can share it with me when you’re ready m’kay? I’ll wait as long as you need me to.” He pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear, watching as your eyes closed, a slight grimace on your face as you leaned into his palm more.

“You’re going to hate me, Carmen.” The words left your mouth with so much conviction all Carmy could do was frown, the idea of ever hating you would have never crossed his mind. He wanted to reassure you but lost his chance as you abruptly sat up, the movement caused him to sit up as well, the two of you only inches apart now facing each other. You forced a smile as your side relaxed on the couch, head propped against it as your eyes wandered around Carmy’s features. “Let’s just get through tonight and then we’ll worry about everything else.” You were exhausted. Carmy could tell by the way your blinking slowed, he wanted you to stop, to get some sleep, to put your needs before whatever made you feel like you owed him any explanation.

“Bab-,”

“I was in the hospital for a bit because I…I was sick. But after they discharged me I had been gone from my own life for so long I was so close to not having anything to return to. So I came home and forced the past month into a literal box in my closet, pretended none of it happened.” You were running on fumes at this point, with no regard for whether Carmy was even still listening to you, just this force within you driving you to finish the story.

“There was uh one thing that I couldn’t force myself to get rid of-,”

“The voicemail.” Your eyes shot to Carmy's, his silence easily making you forget he was even still here, that you were recounting these memories for a reason. You nodded eyes unfocused as you looked past him, would there ever be a time you could remember that part of your life without flinching every time you thought about it?

“It started slow, I was just getting back into the swing of things remembering what it was like to be alone after being in Chicago surrounded by people who actually cared about me. I would go out with my co-workers after a shift, drink just enough that I could get myself home, but not enough for anyone to worry about me.” A sardonic laugh left your lips, you were sure nobody would care about you, and you hardly had any strong ties to the West Coast.

“It helped…until it didn’t until I was drinking so much it was almost like my body was immune to the effects. But who needs their liver am I right?” The pinch to your thigh jolted you. Carmy wasn’t welcoming your self-deprecating jokes.

You raised your hands in defense, a humorless chuckle leaving you. “If I’m being honest, I don’t even remember getting that first prescription…not even the ones after it.”

“Wait,” Carmy moved so his feet were firmly planted on the floor, legs spread as he rested his elbows on his thighs. “What the fuck does a prescription have to do with this? Baby?” Carmy wasn’t stupid, he didn’t need you to spell it out for him but the sliver of hope in him was dwindling as the minutes of silence continued to tick by.

You shrugged, moving to sit crisscross applesauce staring blankly at Carmy’s side profile, one of his legs bouncing up and down. “You know they really should make those warnings bigger. About not mixing drugs and alcohol, the font is so tiny how cou-,”

“Stop!” You didn’t even flinch at the loud volume of Carmy’s voice, eyes following his figure as he flew up from the couch. The man was now pacing in front of you, one hand settled on his hip as the other furiously swiped across his forehead. “Why do you…do you…fuck!” The vein on his neck protruded with his frustration. “How do you just sit there and make fucking jokes about this shit Baby! Why the fuck is any of this funny to you?”

The urge to defend yourself was surging through you, in a way you knew Carmy’s reaction was valid. But it wasn’t like there was a handbook on the proper way to deal with your trauma, and you wouldn’t allow him to tell you right from wrong.

“What the fuck do you want from me, Carmen! I did it okay! I drank and I took the fucking drugs and when that shit stopped working on its own I thought hmm why the fuck not mix them because what the fuck could possibly be worse than living. In some fucked up way did I think it would help me understand Mikey? Maybe. It’s not like I fucking planned this shit! I didn’t plan to become addicted okay, that wasn’t supposed to happen I had a system…I had a fucking system.” It was like everything was becoming clearer the moment those last words left your mouth, you may not have planned the beginning, but as you thought back to what could’ve been your last moments you were almost certain some still sane part of you knew what you were doing.

Soft laughter left your lips as the pieces were starting to fit together in your head, the sound only growing in volume as you realized just how fucked up you were. Your eyes were unfocused as your gaze flew to Carmy, the whisper of ‘Baby’ lost in your internal revelation.

“I threw myself through that glass door, not on purpose I can’t even remember why the fuck I wanted to get outside so bad. But I-I remember swallowing those two extra pills and thinking what the fucks gonna happen to me huh, I’ve lasted this long.” Carmen couldn’t recognize you, the tears had started again but he was certain you couldn’t even tell, you looked possessed, your eyes flashing all around the room a wicked smile painted your lips as you spoke to no one in particular.

“Barely made it past the threshold before my body gave out, I wish I could remember, even if only for a second. What it felt like to have your body want something more than your brain did. But you know what the fuck happened Carmen?” Your eyes finally shot to his, you looked like a skittish animal ready to fight Carmy to the death if he encroached on your territory.

A sardonic laugh left your lips, your tongue swiping across them, the saltiness of your tears a shock to you. “I woke up and there Natalie was, right beside me. And you know my first thought wasn’t what happened to me or-or what the hell is Nat even doing here? I didn’t even pay her any attention the whole first two hours, and you wanna know what I was thinking Carmen?”

“Don’t.” The plea escaped his lips in a whisper your heart clenched at how desolate he looked.

“I laid in that hospital bed, and I looked at those stupid fucking fluorescent lights and I thought; Mikey got it right the first time, why couldn’t I.”

Carmen felt numb, like his whole body had been submerged in an ice bath and no matter how hard he fought to get out, it was like his body and mind were on two different wavelengths. He’d seen that stare before, in the eyes of his brother, the same way Mikey looked at Lee at Christmas dinner all those years ago was the same way you were looking at him now in your living room.

He wasn’t sure if there was a proper reaction to the truth you had just dropped. Mikey was dead, that made things easier, but here you were alive and well from what he could tell and he would have his time to mend things with you if that’s what he wanted. But he wasn’t sure he could stand in such proximity as you at that moment, wasn’t sure if he could even look at you. You had been the second closest person to Mikey, presumably knew he was doing drugs, knew he was spiraling out of control, and followed right after him.

Was there anything Carmy could have done to alter your path? Maybe if he had stayed by your side that night after Christmas you wouldn’t be standing here now talking to him about how badly you wanted to end it all.

Carmy drew in a sharp breath a small sob following it as he tried to control his emotions, he began taking small steps in your direction not sure of what he was going to do, but needing you to know his silence wasn’t because he was disgusted or disappointed in you; but in himself. How easy it would’ve been to keep in contact with you after high school graduation, how easy it would’ve been to just let himself love you and take care of you, be there for you. And as much as he wanted to believe you knowing how he felt would’ve changed much, he knew it was naïve, addiction was an illness and even if Carmen had fought harder to keep you in his life there’s no promise that he wouldn’t have been the one to find you floating in the space between life and death.

He slowly reached out to you, hands carefully grasping your cheeks in his eyes, committing your face to memory, mind racing with all the times he took being able to see it daily for granted. “Ba-baby, tell me you don’t mean that,” he waited, eyes rapidly flicking back and forth from yours. His grip on your face was just loose enough for you to send him the saddest smile he’d ever had the chance to see, “Please?” The broken whisper floated between the two of you before your head softly nodded up and down to confirm that indeed he was almost forced to live without you.

And this time it wasn’t his choice.

Carmy sat on the floor in front of your couch, back resting against it, head tipped back to rest on the cushion face pointed toward the ceiling. All he could hear were the soft breaths escaping you and his thudding heart in his ears. It took a while before you had finally calmed down, Carmy held you in his arms on the floor as the two of you cried. Your sounds lashing against his heart over and over again. He was exhausted, more than he usually was, the night far from what he hoped it would be. He was so overwhelmed by all that you had been willing to reveal to him, that the instinct to do something with his hands as you slept took over, the man dutifully cleaned your kitchen and stored the uneaten food away for you to eat at a later date.

And now here he was, back at your side finally coming to terms with everything he learned. Carmy felt like a fool he had prided himself on his friendship with you, always made it a big deal that you were his friend first, his friend by choice. But it had been almost 10 years since he decided to shut you out of his life with no reason, no explanation why and it was selfish of him. Selfish that he had so blindly pushed you away without a thought to how it would make you feel. Selfish of him to always expect your acceptance and open arms when it was convenient for him to re-enter your life.

He let out a small sigh raising his head from its position on the couch, eyes latching onto the dated picture atop your mantle, your cheesy smile staring back at him as Richie and Mikey surrounded you. His eyes poured over the picture, taking in how happy the three of you looked, and how simple everything was when the two of you were teenagers. A quiet humorless laugh escaped his lips as he reminisced, he was lying to himself if he thought your time as teens was simple, but compared to the lives the two of you were leading it sure as hell did feel that way.

Carmy allowed himself a moment longer to enjoy the happiness the picture exuded. He gave it one last glance before he adjusted his position on the floor, turning slightly so his side was leaned into the couch, eyes landing on your face as you slept. It felt like his heart was constantly breaking whenever he looked at your face, it was evident you’d been crying, the puffiness of your eyes easily giving it away. He reached his hand out, hesitating for just a second before he pushed the hair out of your face palm resting on your cheek as he began to softly stroke in back and forth. Since the first time he saw you this year, this was the most peaceful you had looked, he was glad that sleep had been able to bring you that sense of tranquility, but he wanted that for you always, to feel at peace on any given day and as he watched you back moving up and down to signify the breaths your were taking, he promised himself he’d provide that for you; even if it was only as friends.

“What am I gonna do with you, Baby?” The hoarse words left him in a sigh, a small smile making its way to his lips as he watched your nose scrunch up at the sound of his voice, eyelids slightly twitching.

He watched as you turned to lay on your side, lips brushing across his pulse point a small kiss now decorated his veins. “Still be my best friend?” Carmy laughed at your small voice taking up the space between the two of you. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, thankful that Carmy had figured out how to dim the lights in your living room. “Do you remember that promise we made the summer before seventh grade?” Your voice was scratchy from all the sobbing and borderline screaming from earlier.

Carmen nodded his head, a small smile raised on his lips, hand moving from your cheek to cup the back of your neck. “Of course, I do,” the smile only lasted for so long as he was forced to remember a promise he broke with no regard. “That we’d be best friends no matter what, even though we didn’t want each other’s cooties.” Carmy was happy to hear the sound of your melodious laughter, he spent so much time listening to your broken cries he was afraid he’d never know anything else.

“I’m sorry Carmen, I…I didn’t mean to blow up on you. I think telling you about my overdose…it helped me come to terms with it myself.” Your eyes were lidded, all the crying made them feel heavy, if Carmy wasn’t here in front of you right now you were sure you would’ve been dead asleep.

A small content sigh escaped you as Carmy’s thumb ran back and forth across the side of your neck, “You have nothing to apologize for we-I know I haven’t been a great friend to you these past years. And for that I’m sorry. I wish…I wish I could explain to you why I pushed you away but Baby,” Carmy paused heart thudding in his chest, the words were there, maybe not in the way one would expect but it was you; you would know what he meant even if he was speaking in another language.

“I uh I can’t even explain it to myself. But..I would like for us to be friends again if you’ll have me?” Carmy sent a tight-lipped smile your way, he couldn’t do it. He felt selfish for even thinking now was the time to propose the initial idea in his mind. Maybe it was an excuse, maybe not, but he didn’t think it would be fair to put you in that position. You had just told him such a harrowing truth about yourself and if his first instinct after hearing such was to ask to be more than friends it would feel insincere. Carmy wasn’t even sure you would want a relationship with him, you were sober, and recovering and Carmy wouldn’t allow himself to mess that up for you with his presence having been such a soul-sucking and negative thing in your life these past few years.

“I think that’s just what I need right now…a friend.” It was silent for a moment between the two of you, Carmy had prepared himself for the worst on the drive over, and although he could feel a lump forming in his throat and the ache in his chest, he forced a small smile on his lips upon hearing your words. “You kept it on there?” His eyes found yours confusion marring both of your features, at his silence your hand reached out delicately tracing the pendant settled against his signature white shirt.

Of all the times you’d seen Carmy you knew he still wore his chain, it was a part of him. You had caught glimpses of the gold peeking out from his shirt, but you would have never thought he wore the pendant you’d impulsively bought before leaving New York. You remember regretting having left the newly added accessory on his chain when you left his apartment, sure it made you seem like some desperate lover who had never even actually been a lover, just some girl too naive to see all the signs she was being given.

Your eyes flicked between Carmy’s waiting for his response, his cheeks tinting pink the longer you looked at him for an answer. The hand that wasn’t settled against your skin reached up to rub at the back of his neck. “I nev-I… uh never leave home without it.” The admission made your skin tingle, Carmy’s finger subconsciously tracing the lone letter you carried everywhere with you. “It uh, reminds me of you…of us.”

“There were forget-me-nots in the bouquet Willie made me,” you sent Carmy a small smile, although temporary, the sight of that bouquet filled you with happiness the short time you did spend with it. “Also I know you didn’t have shit to do with the flowers Willie put in that bouquet.” Carmy let out a small laugh face warming at the memory of old man Willie’s meddling.

Your thumb on the pendant began tracing the engraved letter, “This was like my form of a forget me not, something that was permanent, would never wilt with time…I just wanted you to have something to remember me by.” Carmen watched your lips stretch into a small smile, he knew what your words meant, but after learning about all you’d gone through it felt like your final words had a double meaning like if things had gone as you wished them to, this would be the only piece he had left of you.

A part of you felt shy sharing the reasoning behind gifting Carmy the pendant, the two of you were barely friends as it was and the flowers had been so personal to you, that you weren’t sure you wanted to let Carmy into that piece of your world even though he played a huge part in it without even knowing.

“Is that what they signify? Remembrance?” Carmen’s thumb ran back and forth across the scar on your jaw, tapping it twice to pull your attention to his.

You gave the pendant one last longing look, dropping it before your eyes finally locked on his, “Something like that.” You shrugged having to swallow the urge to confide in Carmen one last time tonight.

The two of you stayed like that with Carmy’s hand holding onto the side of your face, thumb trying to imprint the jaggedness of your scar to its memory. Your eyes became heavier the longer Carmy delicately stroked your face. The man made no move to wake you as you slowly began drifting back into the world of dreams, the same look of peacefulness he saw earlier had easily returned, the ghost of your past so evidently marked into your skin in the shape of your scars. He felt like he was able to finally release the breath he’d been holding in, his eyes skated across your face; a face he always considered to be a work of art, one he could never perfectly capture on paper.

As he watched you sleep Carmen came to terms with exactly what was left between the two of you now. For all intents and purposes the two of you were friends again, or at least on friendly terms, and as much as he tried to convince himself he would be happy to keep you in his life in whatever capacity you allowed; he knew that was a lie. But the only person he could really lay blame on was himself, you had been ready and waiting for him before he even realized he loved you and now that he was finally ready to take that next step with you there was no longer space in your heart for him.

Carmen watched you for a moment longer, thumb lingering against your scar before he finally had enough restraint to pull himself away. There was a part of him that would’ve stayed planted in that spot all night just to watch over you, make sure the moment he turned his back you wouldn’t suddenly disappear never to be gazed upon by him again. He quietly stood up, careful not to make too much noise and wake you, hand grabbing the blanket lying atop the head of your couch before he gently draped it across you.

He lingered in front of you every fiber in his body, willing him to stay there by your side, to be there when you woke up. But moments like that were no longer his to take; they never had been. Carmy let out a sorrowful sigh before he bent down to your level placing a soft kiss full of love and longing to the indentation between your eyebrows. What could have been, what never was would always stick with him but he would set his wants and needs to the side, and he would appreciate having another moment with you still in his life.

The two of you had seemed to come to an understanding now, and that’s all he could ask for. You said you needed a friend and that’s what he’d be; your needs were his needs.

a/n: in honor of turning twenty-three i present thee with the gift of suffering 🤪, anyway not sure how i feel about this chapter but we shall see. also i know it seems like everything between baby and carmy may have been resolved rather quick, but i feel like everything is very not obviously resolved. happy readings! 🤍

also: huge shoutout to @mr-robot-x for her impeccable song recs when it comes to this fic and the losers i write about. asleep by the smith’s heavily inspired this chapter. (which you would all know if you took my song inspo seriously 😐) just kidding but seriously it genuinely helped me get through this chapter! 🤍

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear x reader #the bear fic #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto angst #carmy x you #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

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bunniesanddeer · 2 months

Note

- [ ] SORRY THIS IS SO LONG! (This is a Alastor x fem! Cat! Reader)Okay so you know the scene where Alastor threatens Husk? The first part is the same thing it’s just that the reader saw the whole thing, unnoticed by neither Alastor or Husk. After it’s over, Alastor sees the reader(who totally has a crush on her), her looking right back at him with ears “pinned” to her head and a horrified look in her eyes. Since her and Husk are besties(slay💅🏻) furiously, she goes over to Husk to help him up. He assures her he’s fine and she walks away, absolutely furious with Al. He can’t help but feel a little guilty and remorseful, both feelings he’s not used to. Day after day of the reader ignoring him, he try’s to get her to forgive him but she’s a very stubborn feline. She isn’t easy to forgive after something like that. One day, after months, he finally gives up and hides in his room. He’s completely lost in thought and feels a bit upset and ashamed. He doesn’t notice the tears rolling down his cheeks. Meanwhile, the reader is at the bar, talking with Husk. As much as he despises Alastor, he tries to encourage the reader to talk to him. She finally complies and goes to his hotel room . She hears barely audible sobs through the door but knocks anyway. At last, she is met face to face with the demon himself, failing to hide his tear stained face. She can’t help but feel a little forgiveness for him. Long story short, he opens up to her, she forgives him and happily ever after❤️

Hi, sorry this took so long. A lot has happened to me in the last two weeks. I don't think I hit everything in this ask, but I hope it is still good?

Reminder

Pairing: Alastor x Cat!Reader

Tags/Warnings: Angst, that scene in Dad Beat Dad, sad Alastor angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 2,003

There was something to be said about how easy it could be to forget who he was. Maybe it was his charisma, the way he so easily drew you in to him. Maybe it was the way he smiled at you, how he could seem so soft with you, when he was so cold and sharp with others. There was so much about him that you admired, too, and it made it all so easy to forget. He always smiled, and although there was something to be said about toxic positivity, it made you happy, made it easier to smile back. You adored the way he held himself, always so confident. It was something you strived to emulate. But sometimes, he reminded you of who he was; The Radio Demon. Sometimes that little hind-brain of yours lit up at the sight of him, and all the things you knew about him would come flooding back.

Alastor was meant to be feared. He had earned his power in Hell, and to do that he had done awful, terrifying things. It seemed you needed a reminder, because you had grown far too comfortable with him.

You followed quietly after Husk. He had taken off after Alastor and the Morningstar’s just after Mimzy had shown up. You didn’t know much about her, but with the way your friend had looked at her, you knew she wasn’t good news. Wishing to know more, you had followed after, hoping to join whatever conversation Husk and Alastor started up.

You did not find what you had expected. Husk and Alastor seemed to be arguing, which wasn’t unusual, but the way Al responded was strange. He looked annoyed. Husk yelled at Alastor, and Alastor responded with a laugh, and then Husk said something that shocked you down to your core.

“Big talk for someone who’s also on a leash,” Husk had whispered hoarsely. Someone owned Alastor’s soul? How? Who? What could have possibly happened to do such a thing?

Your tail swished roughly against the floor, and your ears perked forward to hear more of the conversation. Eavesdropping wasn’t a good thing, but you needed to know more.

Alastor’s head swiveled around in a terrifying way. The hallway grew darker, and his form grew large. “Aha! What did you say?” Alastor asks rhetorically.

A green chain wraps around Husk’s throat, and it makes your heart jump. Alastor was going to hurt him! Your body grows stiff, and you watch on in horror as Alastor grows to a gigantic height, filling the hallway. He stalks towards Husk, and he starts yelling. You can’t hear a word, though, over the pounding of your heart. Your ears pin flat against your head, and your tail tucks itself around one of your legs.

The whole ordeal is done in just a moment, and Alastor is back to his normal size. Husk is shaking, quivering on the ground, and despite the risk, you can’t help but rush towards him.

“Husk!” Your soft hands wrap around his forearms, and you help him to his feet. “Are you okay?”

Your head swivels, and you keep your eyes locked on Alastor, who has stopped walking away. His brows are sharply downturned, and despite the smile still lingering on his face, he looks desperately confused. Your tail whips back and forth behind you, drawing his gaze. His brows furrow further, and he cocks his head. He calls your name, and you can only shake your head in response.

Something sharp grows in your chest when you look back at Husk. He still looks terrified, something you’ve never seen. How could you forget yourself? How could you forget who Alastor is? The two of you were on separate planes entirely. Whatever were you thinking?

You take in a sharp breath, and continue checking over Husk. The other feline assures you he’s fine, but you know better. You sigh, and push him to head back downstairs. You ignore the prickling feeling of Alastor’s gaze on your back. You need to separate yourself from him. It was not worth the risk.

Alastor can’t begin to describe the way he had been feeling over the last several weeks. While the hotel had burst into action for Charlie’s trip, and everything that came of it, he had been dealing with something else entirely. The threat Heaven posed was nothing, not when your eyes held such disdain, such fear within their depths. It was all because of him, too. There was no one to blame but himself.

Alastor hated the feelings that were swirling in his gut. He hated how weak they made him. He hated how much he wanted you by his side, again. There was something so wonderful and enticing about how little you cared about his station, and now it was gone. You were deeply aware of his power over others, and you had removed yourself from his side.

He had to do those kinds of things, though! That is what bothered him most. He needed to put the souls he owned back in their place when they disobeyed, when they spoke against him. Husker was no different. He might have been one of Alastor’s favorites, but Husker only had so long of a leash to pull and tug, and he had cut it short, that day. Alastor couldn’t understand why you didn’t understand that.

His affection for you had long since weakened him. It was something that kept him awake when he rarely lied down to rest. It buzzed in his thoughts when he was meant to be focusing on anything else. And yet. There was something so intoxicating about being around you. You were warm, and your face sent flutters down his spine. He couldn’t fathom why you were different from all those before, but you were, and that was that. It was much too late to change it now, he would have to cope with all these changes in his afterlife.

The way your ears pinned back, and your tail flicked back and forth whenever you saw him, hurt. He was used to Husker responding that way to his presence, but at least that cat-demon bothered to acknowledge him. You outright ignored him to the best of your ability. You barely looked at him, and you hadn't spoken to him in weeks. It had affected the dynamics within the hotel, something that Charlie had brought up to him.

Alastor could only respond, “I have no clue, my dear. I’m sure it will work itself out in time.” Alastor lied through his teeth, and tried not to let that angry pit in his belly from eating at him. It hurt, but he refused to admit anything out loud. He could live with this, and he could move on. Smile, smile, smile, and smile he did. Even at his own expense.

He passed by the bar, and there you were, chatting with Husker. You had a bright drink in your hand, and you were laughing. The sound was bliss for Alastor, as he had gone so long without the sweet sound. Husker was rolling his eyes, continuing to tell some story that Alastor couldn’t bother to focus on. He just watched the way you reacted, and his chest ached. Something must have alerted you to his presence, however, because you turned, your eyes just barely glancing over him, before you stiffened, and turned back around. All contentment seemed to leech from you, and Alastor’s entire body seized.

So it was like that, was it? This is what all the months you had spent together had come to? All his wasted feelings, for nothing. Alastor could feel his smile slipping, so he stalked off to his room. With a strange sound escaping from his throat, he resolved to rid himself of these horrid feelings.

There would be no more weakness, not on Alastor’s part. What was any of it worth? What was a heart meant for, if not to be trod on? Hot, wet tears trail down his cheeks, sore at the effort of keeping up his smile. One of his hands tug at the thick locks of hair closest to his face. His ears flop back, and he lets himself go loose as he makes it to his room. He would not let it happen again.

Husk sighs, and it draws your anxious gaze to him. “I know this probably ain’t what yer wantin’ to hear, but you should probably talk to Alastor.”

You frown. “Why would I do that? He hurt you, Husk, and he was threatening to do worse. I shouldn’t have been any form of anything with him, dude.” You sigh, and your eyes trace invisible patterns on the bar top. “I should have known better. It was a wake-up call, and I have heeded it.”

Husk grunts, and he sets down the glass he had been cleaning. “I know, but he’s been off for a while now, and I think he regrets it, even if he refuses to admit it. I was also pushing things, shouldn’t have done that. It’s how Hell is, and I made my bed with that fact, long ago.” Husk puts his hand on your shoulder, and you meet his eyes. His expression is serious. “You were happier around him, too. Don’t let this one thing stop you from that. I hate him, that’s true, but you’re a good friend. You also mellow him out, a lot. I think, if you do this right, we’d all be better for it.”

You let out a harsh breath, and glare at the end of your t ail that curls around your ankle. The thought of Alastor makes your heart pound, and you know it isn’t just fear. You wanted to let that feeling grow, but you were so afraid of all the things he could do, just because he wanted to. Was it worth the risk?

Husk seemed to know what you were thinking and just said, “You’ve got this, kid.”

With a huff, you pushed up from the stool, and hopped down. You could do this. You just needed to confront The Radio Demon. And make it out alive. And maybe confess your budding feelings. Who knows.

There was a knock at his door. It made his head ache. Everything felt strange, but he managed to make it up from where he had been slumped against the wall, and get to the door. He pressed his head against it, and listened closely.

“Alastor, can we talk?” He could hear your soft voice, and the slight waiver it had. His chest squeezed harshly, and he couldn’t help but swing the door wide open.

“Sweetheart!” His voice was harsh and gravelly, and his static surged at the sight of you. Oh, your sweet little cat ears twitched at every noise, and your little tail was curled around your ankles. Oh, you seemed so nervous? Whatever did he do? “You’ve come to talk to me?”

“Oh, Al…” You whispered, your face awash with pity. Alastor felt self-loathing and something heavy twist his gut. He brushed off his pants, trying to relieve himself of the feeling. “We should talk, but we should probably get you some water first. You look a mess.”

And then you were smiling at him. It was a small one, but it held so much light in it. Alastor felt some of that lightness fill him up, and he could only hope it stayed.

One of your soft hands reached up towards his head, and he settled his cheek into it. Your thumb rubbed at his tear-stained face.

“I’m sorry, cher,” Alastor mumbled. He didn’t know where the words had come from, but they bubbled up and out of him before he could stop them.

“I know. We’ll talk about it, don’t worry.” And those words calmed him. The two of you would figure this out. It would take time, but he was sure he’d have your affections again, even if something had to change.

Reminder that my Asks are open! It might take a minute to get to, but feel free! Also, the pinned post on my profile is my taglist. Please reply there, if you would like to be added.

Taglist: @girl-nahh-two @numetalnerd2007 @justchillingandhavingfun @alastor-simp @thonethatflies620 @lemonyboy97 @fairyv-ice

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #bun's short fics #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor fanfiction #alastor x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fluff #fanfic #angst with a happy ending #angst

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sopebubbles · 1 year

Text

Three

Masterlist

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: The boys talk to you for the first time, but that doesn't really make anything any better.

Warnings: this chapter contains explicit depictions of child ab*se, including physical violence and abusive language, please take care. The tough parts take place in a flashback in italics. otherwise you should be okay.

wc: ~5k

When you first gained some consciousness, your primary thought was that you felt like shit. Were you sick? Or was this just what heat felt like? You had not let yourself go into heat in so long, not since you came to this city almost two years ago. You didn't remember it feeling like this. Painful? Yes. The ache you felt now was different and worse than pain you usually associated with this event, but at least you knew you hadn't been fucked within an inch of your life. No, your sex ached for something it hadn't received.

Knot. Knot. Need a knot. Your inner voice chanted, desperate to have your needs met, to feel your body full of something. You groaned and rolled to your stomach. Moving only made the ache worse and drew attention to other problems. You were soaked. Your torso, neck and face felt sticky with tacky sweat. Your thighs even more so with thick, sweet smelling slick that leaked out of you all night long.

Disgusting. That was the other voice in your head, the one that told you to deny every stupid, foolish need your body had because they only hurt you. Filthy animal. Admittedly, that voice did not sound like your own, but rang with the echo of multitudes.

You wanted to get up and clean yourself off, but your body was weak and tired. Taking a deep breath to gather your strength, you caught several scents. Citrus and lavender. Leather and cotton. Something else too, maybe pine nuts. And over everything a heady sweetness. The voices in your head argued.

Alpha.

Several. Run. Hide.

Find alpha.

Not safe.

You wanted to listen to them both but instead you just took another breath in and fell asleep.

The next time you regained consciousness it was because something cool and wet was licking your body. No not licking, but definitely wet. Your eyes jolted awake and you looked up directly into the eyes of another omega. You could tell by the softness of his cheeks and by the warm brown sugar coming from the scent gland in his wrist, right under your nose. He was wiping the sweat from your skin with a damp cloth.

"Hello, little pup." His voice was soft but there was no expression on his face to tell you his intentions or if he was a threat. But he was a stranger so you immediately began to squirm away. That was when you realized you were entirely naked, mostly covered with a blanket but still bare underneath. The man sighed and put down the wash cloth picking up a different piece of fabric. "Here, you can put this on," he said, holding out a shirt for you.

You took it from his hands and used it to cover your chest while you waited for him to move, to leave or at least turn around. When you only stared at him for several seconds he smirked.

"Honey, you're the one who took your shirt off and begged me to remove your bra last night. Don't get shy now."

You looked around the room, but no one else was there to witness your shame. Still there were so many smells around the bare room. Sweet scents worn into the mattress from the Lykos who slept here, their owners must be around somewhere. The man sighed again while he stood. "I'll give you a few minutes to get yourself together. There are a pair of boxer shorts here. Sorry, there aren't any ladies in this house to borrow from. I'm Hoseok by the way. I'll come back in a few minutes and we'll have a talk about what's going on." He left and closed the door behind him without waiting for your response.

It took a second to shake off the surprise after he'd gone, but once you did, you picked up the damp cloth he'd left on the bed and continued cleaning yourself. He had not yet cleaned your chest and after taking care of that you wiped up the mess between your legs, shuttering at the sensitivity there. You pulled the shirt over your head and then moved to the edge of the bed to stand and put the shorts on. But your legs trembled weakly and you sank back to the bed. That shot any plan of running out of here. As you tried to think of what to do, a knock came and the door opened before you could answer.

Hoseok returned with two other men, but he let them pass and remained by the door, which he left ajar. You moved back into the bed to create some distance between you as the taller man sat at the end of the bed.

"Y/N, my name is Jungkook. I'm a police officer. And this Jimin. We found you on the street last night and we brought you to our home. You're safe here." His voice was smooth and kind in a way that had your inner voice purring, begging to bring his familiar scent closer so you could slip back down into the gooey softness of heat.

"Am I in trouble?" You asked in a quiet voice.

"Of course not, pup. We just want to help," the smaller one, Jimin, did with a smile.

"How do you know my name?"

Jungkook blushed. "Full disclosure: we went through your things last night trying to find your pack."

"I don't have a pack," you informed them quickly. Jungkook nodded with what seemed like regret. He had clearly been able to learn that much on his own. "Where's my bag?"

Jimin bent over behind the foot of the bed to pick up your oversized black purse and handed it to you. You dug inside until you found the clattering bottle of pills and pulled it out. "Those won't do you any good now," he commented as you tried to take the cap off. Even your hands felt weakened. You paused and eventually lowered them to your lap.

"Just as well. I hate these things. They make me so sick."

Jimin took a subtle step closer and put his hands in his pockets to show he wasn't a threat. "Then why do you take them?"

You're quiet for a second. That was an incredibly personal question to ask a stranger. "Because it's better than feeling like this."

Jimin looked like he wanted to ask more questions in this vein, but he held back in favor of letting Jungkook speak. "Is there anyone you can call who can look after you?" You avoided their eyes as you shook your head. "In that case, our pack alpha and pack omega have agreed to let you stay until you've recovered."

Your eyes snapped up to the omega by the door. He was the only one you'd smelled here. You took a breath in through your nose, and you weren't sure before but you were confident now that there were four alphas living in this house, although only three of them seemed to be outside the door. The citrus one you smelled so close last night was missing. Danger. You brought your knees up and hugged them protectively.

"I have somewhere to go."

"The True Life Ministry?" Jimin asked. You nodded your head. "They won't take you in like this," he told you, but you already knew that.

"This could last three or four more days. Minimum," Hoseok reminded you. You closed your eyes and let the misery of that truth wash over you.

"We can't reasonably let you go out on your own in your condition, Y/N. You might not remember, but Jimin and I found you in a very dangerous situation last night. It would be much safer for you if you stayed here. I will personally ensure your protection."

You looked up to meet Jungkook's doe eyes and found them full of sincerity, begging you to do the one thing you were never able to: trust him. But you'd already learned yourself that you wouldn't be able to get far on your own, and you knew exactly what kind of awful things could and would happen to you if you stayed out on the street. So trust them or not, you knew you had no other choice. You nodded your agreement.

"I'm supposed to work the next two nights," you said quietly, not sure why you thought you needed to tell them.

"Someone can call them and tell them you won't be able to make it," Hoseok offered.

You sighed. "That's okay. I'm probably fired after not showing up last night anyway."

"Our pack alpha is a lawyer. He can be very persuasive." His eyes focused outside the door, presumably to look at said alpha.

You tried to swallow around the lump in your throat. "Your alphas. There are…"

"Four of them," he told you. "They won't disturb you. They're forbidden from coming in and you don't have to see them if you don't want to."

You nodded but your mind was at war with itself once again.

Alpha. Need alpha. Please.

Too many. Too dangerous. They only want to breed you like an animal.

But you could be so warm, so full. You need them close. Ask them to come in. Please.

The silence in the room made the air stale the longer you fought with yourself, and when you finally looked up it was clear they had all taken note of your disturbance.

"Thank you," you managed to say, not because you truly felt grateful but because you wanted desperately for everyone to leave.

Hoseok cleared his throat. "Okay, well, I'll get you something to eat while you're still lucid." It was difficult to predict the ebb and flow of heat, but this break wouldn't last much longer. Normally, during his heats, the pack would be there to care for him and ply him with food and water to keep his strength up, but it didn't seem like that was going to work for you and by the time the next wave of senselessness hit you, you wouldn't be able to feed yourself.

Jungkook and Jimin backed out of the room and Hoseok followed behind, leaving you alone again. He walked to the kitchen to prepare you a bowl of stew. He'd gotten up early this morning to prepare it so that it would be ready when you came around. Taehyung came to stand beside him at the stove.

"Do you think that went okay?" He asked, hoping that Hoseok could report something different in what he saw from what Tae had smelled in the tangy apple cider vinegar scent coming from you by the end of the conversation.

"It's hard to tell, Tae," Hoseok hedged. "It seemed like the idea of so many alphas around made her a little nervous."

Taehyung let out a dejected little 'oh.'

"It's probably best to keep your distance, baby," the omega warned softly. It had tugged at his heartstrings the night before when his youngest alpha had suggested that maybe a good cuddle would help a little bit, but it seemed clear now that would only freak you out. "I'm sorry."

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders. "It's okay. I don't want her to be uncomfortable. It just seems wrong for her to be alone like that, you know?" He held a hand to his chest as if he really felt the pain of it in his heart.

Hoseok reached up to pet his messy hair. "What a good alpha I have. I would never be able to resist your cuddles."

Taehyung preened at the praise, musky leather scent enveloping him.

"I need to do a few things. You eat and when I'm done we can cuddle and watch something, okay?" Tae nodded silently and took the bowl that was offered before Hoseok filled another one.

This time he didn't knock before entering your room and found you sitting in the same protective position he had left you in. He set the bowl down on the table beside your bed and moved away. You looked between the bowl and him but did not move to grab it until he turned his back to you. He heard you sniff it and hum softly to yourself before the spoon began to clink against the porcelain. You began to take greedy spoonfuls of the hot stew while he walked back into the hallway. From the linen closet in the hallway Hoseok gathered several beloved blankets and fresh sheets. When he returned to the room you were slurping up the thick broth from the bottom of the bowl and set it aside with sheepish eyes, as if he would take such behavior as anything but a compliment.

"Do you want some more?" He asked, but you shook your head. He had a whole pack to feed and you shouldn't take too much. "If you get up for a minute I'll change the sheets."

"You don't have to do that!" Something in your belly felt deep shame knowing how they smelled of your heat and the mess you had made.

"Don't be silly. There's no point in staying in messy sheets. And you don't need to feel embarrassed about it. We all do it. That's why I always keep a lot of clean sheets." You lowered your face at how easily he had seen through you, but got off the bed when he waved a hand at you. "And I brought lots of blankets. Unless you're more of a pillows kind of girl. I'm sure I can find a few spare ones."

"Pillows for what?" You stared at him blankly as he began to strip everything from the bed.

"For your nest, pup."

"Oh. That's okay. I don't nest."

"Jimin said you're not allowed at the shelter, but you are here!" Hoseok said cheerfully, the mere thought of building a cozy nest to sink into filling him with joy.

"No, I mean I don't at all," you replied, and he paused to turn to you.

"Never?" You shook your head. "Why not?"

You scratched your nails up and down your arm, squirmy under his scrutiny and shaky on your legs. Hoseok dropped the spoiled sheets on the floor and when it seemed like you wouldn't answer while he watched you, he picked up a clean sheet and began to stretch it over the mattress.

"It's bad for you, isn't it? I mean, they say it's unhygienic. And it makes omegas lazy."

Hoseok scoffed and turned to give you an incredulous look. "Who told you that?"

You shrugged. You'd heard it at home and probably at school more than once. The few times you had tried to nest they had told you they didn't want it or a lazy omega.

Hoseok was speechless. Who would have told you something so plainly untrue? Nesting was an important part of emotional well being for omegas. It was harder not to do than to do. It was important for the pack, too, making sure that all members had a comfortable place to rest. Making sure that all scents were present was important to maintaining bonds and bringing comfort. How could you deny yourself such a basic need?

Not knowing what to say, he simply finished putting the sheets on the bed. When he was finished he took the old sheets under one arm and grabbed the empty bowl with his free hand. He stopped to look at the pile of blankets and then at you with troubled eyes.

"I'll just leave these here in case you want to give it a try." Maybe your omega instincts would kick in during your frenzy when you couldn't meet your other needs.

Hoseok left without closing the door and walked briskly to the kitchen, catching Seokjin’s attention from where he sat searching for something to watch on Netflix. He was trying hard to pretend it was just a normal Saturday in an attempt to keep everyone calm. When he heard the bowl clatter carelessly in the sink he moved Namjoon's feet from his lap and got to his feet. Namjoon followed puppishly at his heels since comforting his distressed omega was a better distraction than the book he was trying and failing to read.

"What's wrong?" Jin asked when he found Hoseok in the laundry holding the bundled sheets, staring blankly into the washer. "Sweetheart?" He took the dirty cloth away gently and put them aside so that he could pull his mate close and look him in the eyes.

It took him a moment to find his voice. "She said that nesting is bad."

Jin scrunched his face in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"She said she doesn't nest ever, because someone told her it was bad for her."

Jin shook his head. "That's crazy. Why would anyone say that?"

"I don't know," Hoseok said, shaking his head. "Jin, it's like she's totally broken. Like she doesn't even know how to be an omega."

"Maybe she never had one," Namjoon offered from behind them. "I see it with my students. They're adopted out by saps when they don't have packs who can care for them, or if they don't think the pack is doing things right, and they're told all their instincts are wrong and that they need to fight them."

The omega looked at him with a horrified expression. "Why?"

Namjoon shrugged. "There are saps who think we live on the line between humans and animals, and if they can convince us to give up our 'animal ways' then we can find a way to being human."

"That's sick."

"You have no idea," Namjoon mumbled as he looked down at the sheets that were somehow now in his hands.

Hoseok forgot his shock for a moment to level a stare at the alpha. "Namjoon, what are you doing?"

"Hm?" The man struggled to tear his eyes away to look at his mate.

"Go on. Sniff them. I dare you."

Namjoon hesitated. This was a trick and he knew it, but your scent was so goddamn inviting. Slowly he lifted the bundle toward his face.

But Hoseok snatched it from his grasp before he could and threw it in the washer. "You are a fucking animal," he grumbled.

After he got the washer running he took Seokjin back to the spare room with him. The alphas had agreed to use the scent blockers they found in your bag–Yoongi was the only person who used them regularly at work, but never kept any at home, though he promised to pick some up to replace the ones they were using. It wasn't perfect, but it did enough to keep them sane around you.

Once again, Hoseok entered the doorway of your room but didn't come much closer. You had taken precisely one of the soft blankets he had offered you and wrapped it around your shoulders before positioning yourself in the exact center of the mattress. He could see you shake slightly and the expanding of your pupils told him you had mere minutes left before you'd be insensible again. He wanted nothing more than to take every blanket he had given you and build you the coziest nest he'd ever made, just to show you how it's done. But even then, he knew it wouldn't be a great nest if you were in it all alone. His heart sank into his stomach. You blinked at him as he remembered his purpose.

"This is our pack alpha, Seokjin. Would you like him to call your job and see if you can work something out?"

Seokjin gave you a gentle smile and a wave from the hallway. The boundaries had been clearly drawn for him and he would not cross that threshold as long as you were there, except in a life or death situation.

You shrugged noncommittally. You didn't meet the alpha's eyes. "I don't know where my phone is."

Hoseok took a few steps closer to hold it out to you. "Taehyung charged it last night. That's why it wasn't in your bag," he admitted.

You took the device to unlock it and quickly choose the correct number before handing it back. Maybe you knew you were close to dropping and wouldn't be able to participate in the call yourself. Hoseok handed the phone off to his alpha and Jin pressed the button before putting the phone on speaker. After several rings, a gruff voice answered.

“Hello, I am calling on behalf of Y/N,” Jin started tentatively. He hadn’t prepared.

The person on the other end paused for a long moment before responding, “yeah?”

Jin cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I’m calling to let you know she won’t be able to come to work for the next several days. She is under the weather.”

The man on the phone grumbled something. “Tell her not to worry about coming back. Marissa said something about her going to heat or whatever the hell fucking thing.” Jin’s face went hot as you buried yours in your arms.

“That’s not grounds for termination. The service industry does not require that employees disclose secondary gender-”

“Yeah, well, they should. Failure to show up for her shift is grounds for termination.”

“The circumstances were unexpected, but you were notified as soon as possible,” Jin tried to reason.

“Sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. I have to go.” The phone disconnected before Jin could try another legal argument. He looked up at you with regret in his eyes.

“It’s fine. It was a shitty job anyway,” you mumbled. But he didn’t miss the souring apple cider vinegar of your scent or how the distress showed on your face.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Maybe I can-”

You cut him off with a sharp whine as you fell over to your side. Hoseok knew instantly and shook his head. He pushed the alpha back. “It’s too late, baby,” he told his defeated mate before he closed your door.

Few people know that when you aren't getting fucked through your heat, it's like a fever dream. Like detoxing. Time isn't real anymore. It was hard for you to separate this time from all the other times you've been lost in this haze of instinct and need. You've been avoiding your heat for over a year just so you wouldn't have to relive these particular nightmares. In your daily life, it's all so much easier to ignore. If you talk to saps and they talk to you like you're one of them, it's easy to pretend that this isn't you, that your body isn't yours, that you've never been betrayed by yourself. And when you're alone, it's even easier to dissociate, to leave yourself until you're a little easier to be around. But here in this frenzy where you're hyper aware of who and what you are and what that takes from you, it's fucking hell. Your body feels twice its size and every nerve is screaming at you, begging to be touched in ways you don't want but can't stop wanting.

You wouldn't call what you did with what Hoseok gave you nesting per se. You were grateful for the clean sheets he had given you. These ones didn't smell as strongly of his pack, but hints were still there. At least for a little while they didn't smell quite so much like you. You allowed yourself to choose one blanket from the pile he'd left on the dresser. One cloud soft blanket wasn't too self-indulgent, right? You needed one blanket. That blanket was now twisted and tangled between your legs, providing little comfort from your tortured dreams.

Your first heat wasn't all that different from this one, if you're being honest. It came on fast and hard with no warning. Or maybe you just didn't know the warning signs. You had been in the room with the sap girls when they were told about their periods and about abstinence in the 6th grade. They were told they would bleed for several days every month for most of their lives. It would hurt, but that was normal. There were products they could buy to help. You weren't the only lykos girl in that room, but you all sat and nodded at the irrelevant information. None of you raised our hand to ask what heats or ruts would be like. None of the sap teachers would have been able to tell you. And you were all secretly hoping you wouldn't ever have to find out anyway.

You were sixteen when your first heat came. Every day you had just been hoping that you were a beta. That would be okay. If you were a beta then no one would ever have to know. They wouldn't be able to smell you. It would be so easy to pretend. But when it came, your adopted mom found you before you even knew what was happening to you.

You weren't up for your morning chores, which would be bad enough on a normal day. When she came in, she found you had pulled the winter blankets out of your closet and made a cozy little nest. Incensed, she began to pull the blankets from around and beneath you, one hard yank sending you tumbling to the floor, landing in a heap. You whined as she screamed at you.

"You know you're not allowed to do that. Filthy habits." When she came to pick you up by your arms, her hands slipped right off your sweat soaked skin, and she made a sound of disgust before wiping her hands on her apron. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"Alpha," you moaned and got to your knees to try to crawl back to bed.

Her anger flared white hot, and she grabbed you by the back of your shirt. She dragged you out of your bedroom and down the stairs, deaf to your cries of pain, and dumped you at the feet of her husband.

"Look at her. Look what she's done," the woman accused, as if you had chosen this on purpose.

"What's wrong with her?" The man asked gruffly.

"She's turning into one of those animals."

The man looked down at her over his glasses. "We should call the pastor over, just to be sure."

The woman shook her head. "No we can't. I don't want the whole town to know we were raising one of those things all these years." She looked down and wrinkled her nose at you. "Eli turned out normal. I thought she might, too."

The man sighed. "Then what do you suggest we do, Ellen?"

The woman thought for a second. "We'll drop her in the woods off the property and let her fend for herself. Maybe the coyotes will get her come nightfall."

The man sighed again before he bent to pick you up in his arms. He carried you outside and set you in the bed of the beat up pickup truck. The old couple got in up front and the engine roared to life. The rumble it sent through the whole truck was almost like a purr. It was almost a comfort until he put the truck in drive and set off, taking bumpy dirt roads to the most remote edge of the property and sending you rolling and thumping along the cold metal ridges, leaving you bruised like a peach on top of it all.

You couldn't hear what they said, if they said anything, when they set you on the ground by a tall oak tree in a spot that she had deemed far enough away. The blood in your veins rushed too hard and fast to hear anything for several minutes, and by then they were gone, and all was quiet.

When you were lucid again, it was pitch black outside and the house was quiet. Even though your mind was momentarily clear, you felt disoriented to be in a dark and unfamiliar room. You were in a warm, soft bed that smelled slightly of warm brown sugar and apples. You felt out for the edge of the bed, finding it to be much wider than you expected, and pulled yourself to the side. Tentatively, you put your feet down one at a time, afraid to put your weight down and make a floorboard creak. When you quietly padded to the door on the balls of your feet, you couldn't find the light switch and began to panic in the engulfing darkness. You gave up and wrenched the door open instead. A soft orange glow from the living room was just enough to calm your nerves. Heavy, steady breathing came from that direction, so once again you tried to move as quietly as possible toward the front door.

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