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leviismybby · 5 months

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The 104 cadets walking in on you and Levi (Yes this is set in season 4 and all of them are 18 or older!)

Eren

He was one of the few ones who knew that you and Levi were dating but it doesn't click in his mind that he should learn how to knock on the door. Eren had a question for Levi about his training schedule and decided it to go and ask him personally. You and Levi were busy at the moment, his body moved on top of yours under the blanket as your nails dug into his back. "Faster Levi!" You moaned and Levi did as you asked, thrusting into you faster. "Yeah? You like it rough don't-" "Captain sorry to disturb you sir but-" Eren stopped mid-sentence, his eyes going wide and a slight blush appearing on his cheeks. "Yeager fuck off!" Levi was quick to pull the blanket over your bodies further, his cock still inside of you.

In panic, Eren started to apologize, he really didn't mean to interrupt you two and even though he was 18, it still made him extremely flustered as he understood what was going on under that blanket. "I am so sorry sir! I didn't mean to! I just had a question about the training schedule!" He turned around not wanting to make it more awkward, Levi rolls his eyes when he sees you trying to hold in your laugh. "Eren I told you to fuck off! Now get out and next time fucking knock." Eren nodded at Levi's words and quickly rushed out of the room. As he closed the door, he let out a breath. "Why didn't I see this when I kissed Historia's hand?"

Armin

Now, he doesn't make his presence known when he catches you two in the supply room. He wanted to try out the new gear Commander Hange made. His footsteps were quiet as he walked into the supply room, and then he stopped in his tracks as he saw your legs wrapped around Levi's body as the captain moved his hips. He just stood there frozen for a moment, neither you nor Levi noticed him as Levi was kissing you passionately while thrusting into you as you were prepared on a crate. Armin quickly and quietly exited the room and closed the door, he went pale for a few minutes. Hange walked down the hallway and saw him. "Armin? Did you try out the gear?" His blue eyes shifted to Commander Hange, he was only able to shake his head. "No, it's ugh..its....its.." He sutured, his face flushing red and he swallowed. "I didn't find it!" He quickly rushes past Hange leaving them wondering what was going on. Later that day when Armin saw you two he would just look away blushing, he had read about sexual intercourse and he knew that it was normal for a man and a woman but he still felt awkward and about catching his captain having sex with his girlfriend that made it worse for him. He never told anyone, not even Mikasa and Eren.

Mikasa

Let's just say....she didn't appreciate catching you two and almost just did not react while she caught you. You and Levi knew that it was risky whenever you two had sex in his office but Levi couldn't wait unit later so he just took you right there on his desk. His hands gripped your hips as he pounded into you, you gripped the desk, soft moans escaping your lips. Mikasa was carrying a box of the thunder spears she was told to deliver to Levi's office, she did knock on the door but given how "busy" you and Levi were, neither of you heard it so Mikasa to her horror walked in on you spread on Levi's desk while he was inside of you. As soon as Levi saw Mikasa he pulled your body into a sitting position so Mikasa didn't see much either of your bodies. "Forget to knock?" Levi says to which Mikasa replies. "I did." She says, her voice indifferent, she didn't really seem to care or at least that's what she wanted you to think. She turns around. "I have the box with thunder spears. I'll just leave it here." She leaves the box on the floor and then exits the office. "Fucking brats," Levi mutters, pulling out of you to go lock the door before returning to you on the desk. "She didn't seem fazed at all.." You chuckle as Levi lays you down on the desk again. "I don't fucking care, those brats need to learn privacy." He says and resumes his thrusts. Mikasa kept a poker face until she was down the hallway from Levi's office. She buries her face into her scarf, so that's how it looked when a man and a woman.... She blushes slightly, either way, she doesn't want to see that again.

Jean and Connie

Oh, this one was just chaotic, it happens when you were in Marley. Luckily both of them were a little drunk when they came across you and Levi having sex. You were in Levi's tent on top of him, Levi had his arms wrapped around your waist as you rode him. You throw your head back and Levi takes it as an innovation to kiss your neck and leave marks behind. That's when the flaps of the tent open and Levj quickly takes his jacket that was beside him to wrap it around you. Jean and Connie come stumbling in. "Captain! We have a question!" Connie says, it was clear as day that they were both drunk. "No I don't! You have a question." Jean says and then looks at you and Levi, his eyebrows raise. "Why is name on top of you, captain?" He asks, it took everything in Levi not to stand up and throw both idiots out of the tent but he couldn't move from the position. "Name was cold so I let her sit on my lap." "Aaah." Both Connie and Jean say, Levi saw that Connie was about to speak again so he he quickly spoke out in a commanding voice. "Out! Now!" Jean and Connie both got startled and quickly saluted. "Yes sir!" You look back to see the boys stumbling out of the tent, drunkenly talking nonsense. "That was lucky." you sigh and Levi takes your hips. "Yeah...now lets continue and hope those drunk idiots don't walk in again." The next morning Jean recalled what happened. "Connie...yesterday I swear we walked in on name and Captain Levi you know..." Connie looked at Jean. "That's just you being a pervert Jean, we were drunk out of our minds." But Jean could swear that he did see you two having sex. "No, name was sitting on top of the captain, what do you think two adults do? Cuddle? That's a weird position to cuddle." At that Connie frowned, his hangover killing him. "Jean, you were probably having a dream, now pass me that bucket..."

Sasha

Luckily for her, she didn't catch you and Levi in that position but she did come into Levi's office unannounced as you were on your knees...Levi quickly pushed your head under his table making you hit the edge, you let a quiet "ow" and then heard Sasha talk. "Sasha Brouse sir! I am here to collect the report Commander Hange needs!" Sasha spoke in a respectful tone, she hadn't noticed you yet and hopefully, she won't. You smirk and decide to tease Levi, you take him into your mouth again knowing that Sasha can't see you from the table. Levi clears his throat glaring at you for a second before looking at Sasha, trying to keep his voice normal. "I'll give them to Hange later. I am busy now, get out." He says, Sasha was about to speak when she noticed something under the desk, she just saw your boots but it clicked in her head and like Eren, she panicked. "Of course. You're busy. Sorry sir." She literally tan out of the room. Levi sighed and pulled your head up. "You minx." He said and you smirked before returning to pleasure him. Sasha ran down the corridor until she found Connie and Jean and pretty much told them on the spot. "I told you I wasn't imagining it, Connie!" Jean says as Connie bursts out laughing. From that day on they all learned not to bother you and Levi when you were alone.

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chrisevansonly · 6 months

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𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

ʚ charles leclerc x female reader

ʚ charles gets the one call he never wanted to get, and despite your worries about his precious pista, he doesn’t care about the car. just you.

ʚ angst, description of injuries (minor), mentions of blood, panic attacks, violence (minor), tears and lots of soft charles

ʚ okay idk why i thought of this idea, but i have and here we are, i know people have been asking for angst, this idk if it qualifies as the angst you’re all looking for but I will work on some other ideas too:)

Time was frozen as you sat in the driver’s seat of what once looked like a Ferrari 488 Pista. Only now you could make out the back of the car, the front of it might as well be in a what not to do when you drive a luxury vehicle catalogue. Your head was ringing and your chest pounding as adrenaline and anxiety pumped through your veins, as much as you’d started to feel pain in a multitude of places, your brain was thinking of only one thing;

Charles is going to be so mad.

To make matters worse, the man who had hit you was now cursing through the tinted window, claiming the accident to be all your fault. Deciding to think about Charles’s potential anger later you picked your phone up and called his number.

Thankfully it didn’t take long,

“Hi baby, are you on your way back”

A pause

“Um…I-I got in an accident Char…”

The line was silent before he spoke up, panic laced in his voice.

“Qu'entendez-vous par ‘accident?’ Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? Où es-tu, es-tu gravement blesse.”

“Charles, english please my head hurts so bad.”

Normally you’d be able to hold an entire conversation with him in French, but right now it was just too much.

“I’m sorry, where are you baby? Are you hurt bad?”

Sniffling softly, you hummed

“I am down by the marina; my head really hurts. The man who hit me…he-he is yelling loudly at me…can you-oh Charles your poor car….”

“No, don’t even worry about my car baby, you matter more to me, I can’t replace you, but I can replace the car. I’ll be there in ten minutes, keep the doors locked, don’t get out.”

You nodded, only then realizing he couldn’t see you.

“Yes, okay, I’ll wait here…please hurry”

“I will chérie, I promise.”

Just like he’d said, a familiar black Alfa Romeo pulled up next to the crash site, Charles quick to get out and come towards the driver’s side door, only to see the man banging at the window.

“Hey, can you step away from my car?”

The man turned to look at Charles

“Cette stupide salope a détruit ma voiture!”

“Je vous le redemande, éloignez-vous de ma voiture”

It was getting harder for Charles to reign in his anger, quickly pushing the man back, giving him a look that at this point in the evening, had him backing away, finally allowing Charles to open the door and see you

“Hey..hey.. I’m here, its okay?”

Charles swore his heart broke as you looked at him with teary eyes, a bruise above your eyebrow, but thankfully you appeared alright otherwise.

“I-I’m so sorry about your car Charlie, he just-he came out of nowhere, and I-I couldn’t-I am so so sorry!”

Holding back the sobs was almost impossible at this point, but Charles was quick to undo your seatbelt, helping you turn towards the door and put your feet on the ground. Once he had you turned toward him, he brought his hands up to hold your face, his thumbs swiping your cheeks.

“My love, listen to me, you are my main priority, you are the love of my life, and this car is just mental and parts, all which can be fixed, but you cannot, and I cannot have another one of you, ever okay?”

Sniffling you nodded

“Okay…”

In the distance you could heard the sirens coming your way, knowing you’d be going to the hospital, it was a given but for now you really just needed Charles, and he wasn’t going anywhere, that was for sure.

“Are you hurting badly baby?”

“No, just my head…can you help me up?”

Your boyfriend nodded, holding onto your arms gently as he helped you stand up, before bringing you into his chest, your arms wrapping around him, as he did the same to you.

“I am so glad you’re okay, you have no idea how worried I was…we’ll get you to the hospital and then i’m not leaving your side”

“Promise you won’t?”

Charles smiled as he saw your pinky finger come up, quickly linking his in a pink promise, a tradition you’d both been doing since your third date.

“I promise, i’m not going anywhere”

As the sirens got closer, you leaned further into Charles, knowing no matter what happened, he’d be by your side for as long as you needed him, he’d be there. It didn’t matter if he had a race, media or social events to attend, for you he’d drop them in a heart beat over and over again.

Because he never wanted to get that kind of phone call again.

translations:

-Qu'entendez-vous par ‘accident?’ Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? Où es-tu, es-tu gravement blesse : What do you mean by 'accident?' What happened? Where are you, are you seriously injured?

-Cette stupide salope a détruit ma voiture!: This stupid bitch destroyed my car!

-Je vous le redemande, éloignez-vous de ma voiture: I'm asking you again, get away from my car

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fourmoony · 6 months

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𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

remus lupin x f!reader

smut. p in v. creampie. unprotected sex. fingering. sex with a friend. language. 18+ content minors DNI.

3.2k - masterlist

summary - reader can't sleep. remus helps out. not with warm milk, though.

i'm supposed to be working on an assignment for college. but remus lupin is taking up space in my brain. so, enjoy :)

The air feels stuffy, too hot against your slick skin.

You blow a breath out in frustration, a piece of hair stuck to your forehead refusing to budge and you groan. The house is silent apart from the droning on of the electronic device between your legs that does little to abate the feeling clawing at your insides and it only makes you more frustrated. The lights in your bedroom are turned off, the world outside asleep. Everyone apart from you. You’ve spent two hours tossing and turning, and a further half hour trying to cure the ache between your legs.

It’s futile. You’ve tried everything. Every speed your overly expensive vibrator has to offer, every position, you even got out the glittery pink dildo Marlene got you for Secret Santa the previous year, leaving it out to the side after coming to the heart-breaking decision that it simply wasn’t big enough.

You feel like nothing will be big enough. Nothing feels right, nothing feels good enough, nothing is even close to tipping you over the edge. You shift, further to the left, and whine again, pressing the vibrator to a higher speed. It moves as you press the button, and the feeling of closeness is gone just like that. You growl, pushing the blankets off in a fit of rage and choose to stare at the ceiling in defeat. It’s not going to happen. You should just accept that. But you’re worked up, horny, and too fucking clammy.

The flat is quiet. Remus is asleep – the only reason you’re so nonchalant about the noise of your vibrator still buzzing against the mattress next to you, taunting you. You reach to turn it off, sitting up and putting your hair into a makeshift bun. You stare with narrowed eyes at the shadowed outline of the sparkly pink atrocity of a Secret Santa gift. It was given as a joke to make you blush. Your friends like to tease you for your innocence. It’s not something you ever would have bought for yourself. You’d blushed furiously and everyone laughed. It was addictive for the first few weeks, being able to explore your own pleasure. But now. Now, it doesn’t feel enough. Doesn’t feel as good. As big. As filling.

It’s a quick thought, a fleeting thought. A memory that makes your cheeks flush and your eyes close in embarrassment. Remus, fresh out of the shower, two seconds away from closing the towel around his waist. He hadn’t locked the door. It was an accident. You hadn’t meant to walk in on him. You’d been half asleep, bursting for a pee, and he hadn’t locked the door. Even worse, you hadn’t meant to look. But he was wide eyed and frozen, and your fight or flight had you trying to assess every part of the situation. And his nakedness was a large part of the situation.

You’re not proud of it. But you’d looked. And you liked what you saw.

And now.

Well, now, you can’t stop thinking about it. About Remus. Kind Remus who makes you tea on cold mornings, puts your pyjamas in the dryer for you when you get out of the shower, who cooks you dinner and leaves it in the oven when you work the late shift at the café down the road. He’s kind and attentive and always there to lend a helping hand. You feel silly as you clamber off your bed, knowing there’s a high likelihood that Remus will tell you you’ve taken his kindness to its boundaries.

Your feet pad quietly down the hallway of your shared flat. The under counter lights in the open plan kitchen at the end of the hall illuminate the space enough to see. Remus’ door is closed, but you twist the handle and push, wincing when it lets out an annoying squeal. Remus rouses at the sound, squinting sleepily at you as he turns. He lets out a breath, sits up on his elbow and pulls back his blanket to offer you the space beside him.

It’s not the first time you’ve climbed into bed with Remus, but you still shift nervously on your feet, biting at your lip.

“You okay, love?” Remus asks, voice deep and croaky.

It makes you flustered in your reply. Voice quiet, unsure, “Can’t sleep.”

Remus nods, reiterates pulling back the blanket to make room for you. You cross one leg over the other in front of you, fiddling with the metal daisy chain ring on your middle finger. Remus got you it when you got into university last year. It’s your favourite piece of jewellery you own, overpriced tennis bracelet from your overcompensating parents be damned. He catches your nervous tic and his eyes narrow, his head tilts, messy hair flopping sideways with the movement. There’s a slight stubble on his chin from running late this morning and skipping his daily shave and he’s sans pyjama top, having clearly also felt the heat.

He sits up fully and the blanket pools around his waist. His skin glows in the low light of the moon through the window beside his bed. He’s beautiful. This you’ve always known. Now, it’s tenfold because you’ve seen all of him. And all of him is what you want, in this moment. Your face is flames as you edge closer until you’re hovering beside his bed.

“Have you tried warm milk?” Remus asks, his voice almost teasing.

“Don’t want warm milk.” You pout.

There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, trying to sus you out. He knows. He must know something. You’re hardly being subtle. Remus’ lips twitch in a smile when you squeeze your legs together in front of you, again, lip between your teeth, eyes watery.

“What do you want?” He asks, voice breathy.

He wants you to say it. But you can’t. You won’t.

“Rem, please,” You whine, “I’ve tried everything.”

His hand reaches for yours, pulls you until you’re straddling him. His lips are a centimetre from yours, hot breath fanning out over your mouth. You press down hard against him, lips pouted. He doesn’t let up, just raises his eyebrows. A question. What have you tried?

“I couldn’t get the angle right with my vibrator,” You whisper, cheeks bright red and warm to the touch, where Remus’ thumb is gently rubbing back and forth, fingers cupping your wobbling jaw, “Then the thingy Marlene got me wasn’t-“ You huff.

Remus chuckles softly, endearingly.

“It wasn’t enough.”

Remus smiles, “You want my help?”

You nod eagerly, “Please, Rem.”

He’s on you in a second. Lips and tongue and teeth, so hot and heavy it knocks the breath from you. His hands fist the thin material of your shorts, at your waist and you bend into him, hands running up his sides, over his shoulders, into the hair at the nape of his neck. He’s hard beneath the flannel of his pyjama bottoms. You can feel it against the crease of your thigh. It makes you whine into his mouth, shifting until you’re perfectly aligned over him. His grip focusses on your arse cheeks when you grind down, a bruising grip that you relish in.

His hands push you forward, you pull yourself back. His lips leave yours, trailing along your jaw, down your neck. Your head tilts back, panting for breath, lost in the pleasure. Your stomach tightens the harder his grip gets, the harder you press down, the faster you move. You feel like a seedy teenager, dry humping yourself against him. Remus’ teeth nip at your collarbone, only to soothe over it with his tongue. You whine again, making your impatience known, but Remus doesn’t speed up.

He looks up, lips mouthing at the underside of your chin until you tilt your head back up to look at him. His pupils are blown, eyes hooded, lips curved into a sinful smirk.

“So needy.” He mumbles into your lips.

You push down harder in response. Remus grabs your hips, stills you. You pout, doe eyes watery. Remus tuts, shakes his head, “You want my help, we do it my way.”

He shifts until you’re lying beneath him, legs hiked up around his waist. He doesn’t waste time in stripping you. Your shirt, then your shorts, your panties following. He throws them across the room, and they fall into the shadows of his darkened room. You’re glad they’re gone. Your body feels like it’s burning up under his touch, featherlight as he traces the goosebumps across your skin. He presses kisses in the wake of his fingertips, to your collarbones, your chest, the tops of your breasts, your stomach, navel.

His lips are warm, wet, pressing kisses to the insides of your thighs. You’re high strung, keening, and needy. He comes back to face level, and you grumble, deep in your throat. So close. He was so close to where you need him. He’s smug. You’re about to protest when he slides a finger into you. Your mouth opens, head pushing back into the pillow. His fingers are long, but slender, and it’s not long before he adds another. Your back arches, eyes closing. The minute you close your eyes, Remus stops. You look up, furious, to find him smirking something evil down at you.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl.” He whispers, nose bumping yours.

You comply. Remus resumes, fingers pumping steadily in and out. When he’s knuckle deep, he curls them and your body jerks in response. It’s too much and not enough, a dizzying euphoria of Remus’ casual confidence and his skilful fingers. His thumb brushes your clit gently, the bundle of nerves swollen and begging for attention. You moan his name, thighs squeezing against his hips where they’re splayed open. It urges him on, he whispers quiet encouragements – good girl, that’s it sweetheart, you’re so wet for me – and you continue to writhe beneath him.

“Rem,” You gasp, hand encircling the wrist that’s pumping in and out of you, “Need you.”

“Soon,” He promises softly, lips pressing to the swell of your breast, teeth lightly nipping at the skin there, “Want you to come on my fingers first.”

His thumb moves in tighter circles, his fingers curl deeper, move faster. He adds a third, the stretch burns but in the best way. Your jaw opens on its own accord, a string of moans emitting from your throat, and you arch into Remus. His eyes meet yours, blazing with lust.

“C’mon, baby,” He urges, voice sinfully deep, demanding. “Come for me.”

You clench around his fingers, and he groans as you gush around his hand, voice high pitched, your grip on his shoulders vice like. He’s surprised you don’t snap in two with how high your back arches. His fingers pump you through the rush in your veins, his quiet reassurances blacked out by the sound of blood rushing to your ears. Your head spins and you see white as the orgasm you’ve been chasing for what must be hours by now crashes over you. You babble nonsense, buck against Remus’ fingers, mouth open, eyes wide, back arched and head pushed violently into the pillow beneath you.

Remus hovers over you when your breathing evens, eye’s a little less clouded, and his usual concerned look on his face. You smile dopily up at him, eyes bright.

“Good?” He asks.

It’s a double ended question – you good? Was that good?

You nod.

“More.” You whine, attempting to pull him closer with your legs around his waist.

“You’re insatiable.” He laughs lightly, head bending down to peck your smiling lips gently.

You nod in agreement, head tilted as you look up at him, “I’m blaming you.”

“Of course.” Remus nods, placating you.

He shimmies his pyjamas off, kicks them off the end of the bed, and comes back to crowd your space, again. Hard, he’s much bigger than you saw from Shower-Gate. Your mouth waters as his hand wraps around his dick, pumping a few times before looking back to you. His face softens when he notices your lip trapped between your teeth.

“Baby?” He questions and you soften.

“That’s,” You sigh, embarrassed, “That’s not going to fit, Rem.”

Remus laughs, the apples of his cheeks rounding out, his teeth appearing from behind his lips. His head hangs over your shoulder and you hide in his hair, mortified. The hand that isn’t supporting his weight runs softly up and down your thigh. You groan to show your mortification, heels digging into Remus’ tail bone to try kill his laughter.

“Rem,” You protest, letting a chuckle of your own slip.

Remus looks up, eyes soft, lips pressed together to stop his laughter, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, pretty girl. I’m not laughing at you. No one’s ever said that before, you just caught me by surprise.”

You giggle, squeezing his waist with your thighs, “They’ve definitely thought it.”

Remus shakes his head, “We don’t have to.”

It’s your turn to shake your head, “I want to. I really want to.”

He smiles, leans in to kiss you. When he pulls away to pump himself again, you let out a low breath. He brushes the tip against your folds, wet and puffy, a couple times before he pushes in slowly. He groans, you moan. You’re tight, fitting around him like perfection. He goes slow until he’s buried to the hilt. You allow yourself to get used to the feeling, whimpering softly when his thumb comes to circle your clit again, working you up.

“That’s it, baby,” He speaks softly, so softly, and you moan.

He pulls back, pushes back in. Takes it slow. Allows you to adjust.

But it’s not enough. You need more. You need the raw pent-up aggression you’ve seen Remus show pervs at bars when they touch you inappropriately. You need angry Remus, who threw a book at the mantle place when your parents missed another birthday. You need the Remus who tries so hard to hide the aggressive side of him but can never fully rid himself of his primal urges, of that white hot fury and determination.

“More,” You breathe, “Faster. Harder. I need more, Rem. Please.”

You’re babbling, begging. But Remus complies. He snaps his hips forward and you all but scream. He groans, breath hot and heavy against your neck. He’s attentive, hips attacking your pelvis. His wooden headboard slams against the wall, your hand reaching up to hold on and stop you from sliding further up the bed. An arm wraps around your waist, pulling you up, closer to him. He feels deeper at the new angle, hips battering into yours. He’s relentless, hitting every spot you need.

You’re babbling nonsense, but so is Remus. Words of encouragement, words that tell you how good you’re taking all of him, how tight you are, how perfect you are. You’re meeting his every thrust, hips grinding against him, the stubble creating friction that tightens the coil in your stomach.

Remus attaches his lips to your shoulder, biting down as he pounds harder against you. You say his name like a mantra, unable to think of anything other than the feeling of him, all over, everywhere, filling, stretching, pounding.

“Rem,” You whine – so close. So, so close – “Come in me.”

Remus’ head snaps up, pupils blown, mouth hung open. He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t falter, “What?”

“Pill. Just,” You gasp when he hits that spot, “Come in me. Please. Wanna feel it.”

Remus moans. Dirty and deep. He fucking moans.

He’s relentless, sweat dripping from his forehead, he releases your waist, hikes your thigh up over his shoulder, you scream. He urges you, tells you sweet things, details how he’s going to fill you up, bites the skin of your calf. His other hand reaches down, draws tight circles that have you seeing stars. You scream his name, loud enough for the entire street to hear, using the leverage on his shoulder to lift your lower back off the bed.

The feeling is dizzying, all consuming. It’s feverish, frantic, a wild chase to the end.

You clench, he hits the right spot, the sting of his teeth on your calf emulates up your leg, the stomach muscles holding you up clench, and he calls you baby, all at the right time. You see white. It feels like your entire body explodes, lights on fire, crashes and burns. You convulse, twitching and screaming, broken words and moans of his names, clenched vice-like around him.

You’re begging. Begging him to follow, to finish in you, even in your pleasure.

You’re still floating, but coherent enough, when Remus grows sloppy, uncoordinated, drops your leg from his shoulder, falls forward, hands at your sides to hold himself up. He jerks, groans, his head falls into your shoulder, and you whine, happily, dopily, when you feel the white-hot spurts of his come against your walls.

He’s breathing heavily, both your bodies slicked with sweat. He drops his weight onto you, and you welcome him happily. Your legs wrap around his lower back, you both wince with the movement. You can feel the slickness between you both, the way he’s dripping out of you. But you’re comfortable, lips pressed to his damp hair. You trace shapes on his back until he comes to, pushing up to press his lips to yours.

The clock on his nightstand reads four in the morning.

He gets up to leave and you whine, “Don’t go.”

Remus chuckles, “Just going to get a warm cloth. Be back.”

You allow him that, grateful he had the idea. You hear him running the tap in the bathroom and he returns with a warm cloth. He’s gentle when he wipes you clear. You wince and flinch, blushing when Remus presses gentle kisses to your thighs as he works. He whispers softly between kisses how pretty you are, how well you did.

He discards the cloth in the wash basket by his door and returns to the bed.

He groans as he settles, holding his arm out for you to fall into him. You do so, swinging a leg over his thighs. It’s then that you realise you’re both still very naked, and your shyness returns. Remus traces shapes on your arm, tucking his head over yours, lips to the crown of your head.

“I can hear your cute little brain running laps, you know.” Remus teases.

You roll your eyes, push your face further into his neck.

“I just came to you in the middle of the night for sex,” the post coital dread sets in tenfold, despite feeling the most relaxed you’ve felt in weeks, “I’m so sorry, Remus.”

You feel Remus shrug, “Don’t fret, sweetheart. I was more than happy to oblige.”

“But-“

“Get some rest, honey. We can talk more tomorrow.” He assures you, pulling the blanket further up your naked bodies.

You concede, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, the stubble tickling your lips, “Okay.”

He pulls you closer, settles in. You allow sleep to wash over you, let the relaxation in your bones pull you under. It’s a dreamless sleep, a comfortable sleep, wrapped in Remus’ arms.

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ddejavvu · 6 months

Note

eddie brock is the og loser boyfriend and i can’t stop thinking about venom just like completely bullying him when he’s in a relationship like his partner is like this drop dead gorgeous person and eddie wears the same sweaty jacket all the time and eats frozen tater tots haha

"There are crumbs on your shirt." Venom observes, and when Eddie nods with a noncommittal grunt, he continues, "And it is not a shirt. It is a sweatshirt. A sweaty sweatshirt, Eddie. And you wore it yesterday."

"That I did," Eddie crams another handful of chips into his mouth, salted and straight from the bag. His attention remains solely on the television in front of him, and Venom's goopy form shakes its head.

"Y/N is coming over later." He reminds the human, watching with disdain as Eddie chokes slightly on his mouthful because of the way he's slouched in his seat. He swallows regardless, and when he speaks, his voice is gruff from the irritation in his throat.

"Yeah, she'll be here in a few minutes," Eddie nods, "Hey, do you think they fake this show? The drama, and all."

Venom has no interest in whether the trashy reality show that Eddie is so enraptured by is fake or not. He cares that you'll be here any minute now, and Eddie looks like a corpse that's been rotting for a few days.

When the doorbell rings, Eddie moves to get up. Crumbs begin raining onto the carpet and he groans as his lazy joints ache, so Venom shoves him back into place with a strong tentacle and uses another to stretch and open the door for you.

You're clearly expecting a person on the other side, but you're quick to recognize the tentacle you're met with instead. It wraps greedily around your waist and you place your hand over its sticky form, grinning as you're barely able to shut the door behind you before Venom yanks you over to the couch.

"Hi, baby," Eddie greets, tipping his head onto the back of the sofa to grin upside-down at you, "How are you?"

"Good," You lean down to kiss him upside down, and Venom is appalled that you're willing to put your lips on Eddie's crumb-coated ones.

"Sour cream and onion?" You guess, and you're rewarded with the near-empty bag of them that Eddie had been demolishing.

You settle happily onto the couch by Eddie's side with the chips in your hand, and when Venom begins to let go of you you hold his tentacle in place. The symbiote watches you silently for a moment, observing your behavior and thinking a whole host of unsavory thoughts about humans and their disgusting tendencies.

"I do not understand," Venom interrupts your gushy sentiments with Eddie about how terrible the acting is on so-called 'reality' shows, "Eddie is disgusting."

The man's nose wrinkles and you let out a scoff of a laugh.

"Thank you, Venom. That's very kind of you. Did you forget you're made of slime?"

"Slime does not sweat. And I do not have crumbs stuck all over me."

"Venom, being in a relationship with someone means that you need to be comfortable with them. We don't have to dress up all the time, Y/N knows what I look like in pajamas and I've seen her hair unbrushed in the morning."

Venom, too, recalls the rather impressive tangled mess of hair that you sport after a night of deep sleep.

"You do not mind that he smells?" Venom turns to you, his milky-white eyes blinking with a squelch.

"He's smelled worse," You give a half-shrug, only one of your shoulders moving as you squirm closer to Eddie beneath the blanket he's draped over you.

"You're both too good to me," Eddie grins, batting his lashes sarcastically, "Careful not to flatter me too much, don't want my head to get too big to fit in my helmet."

Venom regards Eddie for a moment, then thinks of the motorcycle helmet the man breathes into every day. It's repulsive.

"Your head is already abnormally large," Venom observes, settling into Eddie's shoulder opposite from you, "I will keep insulting you so that it does not get bigger. You are repulsive."

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clockwayswrites · 24 days

Text

City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 13

Cass looked up as Jason came out of Danny’s room. He looked better.

After Danny had been stabilized, Cass had taken Jason away from the safe house and to Jason’s place with the gym in the basement. She knew what it was like to have that need to act— to hurt to ruin to end— burning under her skin. She gave Jason the fight that he needed, letting him punch and kick until they were both covered in bruises and he was shaking apart in her arms.

Today he looked better.

“N is going to stay with Danny,” Jason said with a little nod backwards.

Dick, Jason, Tim, and herself had all been taking turns staying with their new brother. He was sleeping a lot right then; he was waking with nightmares a lot too. Waking up with one of them touching him seemed to help him calm the quickest so they took turns staying close.

“Red?” Cass asked with a little tilt of her head.

Jason glanced at the clock on the oven as he opened the fridge. He wasn’t really hungry, but eating out of habit. “He’ll be over here in two hours, I he doesn’t get distracted.”

“Be nice. Red cares. He’ll be here,” she said.

Jason seemed to settle on something and popped the top off before throwing it in the microwave. “Yeah… yeah. Danny’s pretty much wormed his way into all of our hearts, hasn’t he?”

“Yes. Will for rest too.”

Jason snorted. “As if he already hasn’t with B. They didn’t need to meet for that. You know how the old man is, a real bleeding heart of stone.”

Cass rolled her eyes and ordered again, “Be nice.”

Jason frowned at her but she just smiled serenely back until he rolled his eyes. It was a win enough for her.

The heated food was set on a trivet between them and Jason stuck two forks in it.

“I’m thinking we get O in here in a few days,” he said around his own large bite of lasagna. “Danny is healing better this time, but we don’t know what sort of set back this will cause mentally and all. Having another set of hands would be good.”

“O will like him.”

“Course she will,” Jason said with almost a scoff.

“No O and Red,” Cass added thoughtfully after she had chewed her own bite. This was definitely Jason lasagna and not Alfred lasagna.

“Yeah… I don’t think I’m going to trust those three in a room together for a long time,” Jason said with a dawning sort of horror. “Danny took apart the remote here and now it has buttons for services I didn’t even know existed. I swear it will change shows on its own too if no one is paying attention to it. It’s useful, I guess, but a little creepy.”

“Ghost brother,” Cass said with a little shrug.

Jason’s eyes narrowed before he let out an exhausted sounding sigh. “I hate that you might be right. Our controller could be haunted now.”

“Alas poor Yorick?”

“Wrong character,” Jason said, pointing with his fork, “but that is a play with a ghost in it so good job.”

Cass smiled happily at the praise. “Once Red is here, you and me errands?”

“You just want to buy Danny another present,” Jason said, jabbing his fork in her direction.

“Yes,” she said with zero shame.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Fine, but we have to do groceries too.”

Babs had been warned that Danny was still very skittish, but he hadn’t actually expected him to freeze like a scared rabbit when she came into the apartment. She stopped rolling forward and moved her hands to where he could see them both clearly.

“Hi Danny,” she said with her kindest librarian voice that she had. “I’m Oracle. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Danny shook his head, the motion ran through him like a shudder and whatever had frozen him shook off him like water off a dog. His smile was still shaky though, so Babs didn’t think that whatever the reaction had been was completely done.

“Hi, Oracle.” His voice was soft, rough, a little broken.

She’d heard from a number of the bats about the latest development and the trauma that went with it, but it as still something to see someone that looked like a young Bruce covered in bandages and looking more than worse for the wear.

“Are you alright if I come in? If you aren’t, that’s alright. I’ll just talk with Nightwing in the hall for a little.”

“No, you can come in,” Danny said, sitting up a little straighter. His eyes flicked over her again. “It’s just… your hair reminded me of someone is all. No one… no one bad.”

Babs offered him a smile and came the rest of the way into the apartment. “If that changes, just let me know.”

“It’s fine, really,” Danny said, though the words were still a little bit of a whisper.

“Well then,” Dick said, interrupting the end of the oddly tense moment, “Babs, do you want any hot chocolate?”

“Thank you, but without the mountain of whip cream I know you liked to put on it,” she said, giving Dick a playful glare.

He shrugged unrepentantly. “Danny?”

“Yes please,” he said. He was fussing with the blanket he had been sitting under, folding it up just so.

Babs moved towards the kitchen to give him a little bit of space and the illusion of some privacy.

‘What was that about?’ Babs asked Dick silently through raised eye brows, a slightly twisted frown, and a subtle nod towards the living room.

‘Not a damn clue,’ is what Dick’s shrug said back.

It almost made Babs sigh.

Danny was still a complete mystery to her. While they were being good and had avoided taking blood or fingerprints from Danny, Barbara had at least been trying to find Danny’s path through the city. She’d been saying for days now that the boy was like a ghost.

She just didn’t expect that to be as literal as it was.

The nickname had lost any of its fun.

“Danny, whipped cream for you?” Dick asked.

Danny’s eyes darted from Dick to Babs.

“Oh, feel free to have it like N,” Babs said with a smile. “I just don’t have the sweet tooth that he does.”

“She never has, it’s tragic,” Dick said with a sigh as he started to warm a pot of milk. “So, whipped cream.”

“Um, yes,” Danny said.

“I will take sprinkles though,” Babs said. “Do you have the little—”

“Bats?” Dick scoffed. “Of course I have the little bats. You can’t have proper hot chocolate without the little bat sprinkles.”

“Of course not,” words serious but unable to help the little smile that she sported.

“You all really like the theme, don’t you?” Danny asked, though he was smiling too now.

“The boy in the hoddie with the Bat logo on it does not get to talk,” Dick said and tossed a large marshmallow at Danny with pin point accuracy.

Danny caught it effortlessly and started to pull it apart with a little shrug. “Hood got if for me as a present.”

“Of course he did,” Tim said as he finally emerged from wherever he had been tucked away. He handed the tablet he was carrying over to Danny before he sat down in the neighboring armchair. “He’s just trying to claim you first, as if him and I didn’t find you together.”

“Hot chocolate, Red?” Dick asked while Danny was busy looking bewildered at that.

“Sure, but add some coffee to it?” Tim asked.

“No,” Dick replied far too cheerfully. “But seriously Dandelion, a Bat logo from a Bat means something.”

Danny’s face scrunched up at that and he looked down at himself. “I don’t think… he was trying to claim me?”

Babs snorted. “Oh, trust us, he was absolutely claiming you. He probably felt that he had to do something material to even start to compete with B.B., as if he wasn’t cooking for you all the time.”

Danny stared back at her with wide blue eyes. The open surprise and desperate want was odd to see on someone that looked so much like Bruce. Damian certainly never let himself appear that way.

“And Red is already souping up your tablet, I’m assuming— though if you really want an improvement let me see it,” she continued, talking over Tim’s little snort, “and N is making you the special hot chocolate. Even Signal is thinking what he can get you and Spoiler is whining that she hasn’t met you yet.”

“She is getting so annoying,” Tim whined while Danny stuffed the shredded marshmallow in his mouth, likely to get out of saying anything. He looked more than a little teary eyed. Tim gave him the out by continuing, “We’ll have her over one morning when she’ll be tired and easily distracted by waffles. You’re not up for the full Spoiler experience yet.”

“Trust Red on that,” Dick interjected as he stirred the coco, “he dated her.”

“I don’t know what either of us were thinking,” Tim said with a sigh. “We are both way too high maintenance in different ways for it to have worked.”

“You were still waiting for you bi awakening, baby bird, you were missing out on half the options,” Dick said. He dropped one of the oversized marshmallows in each of the four mugs before pouring the scalding hot chocolate over it.

Babs left him to his sorcery and wheeled over to the couch before working her way onto it. Danny helpfully moved the blanket out of the way and then offered it back after. She draped it carefully over her legs.

“So what did Red do to your tablet?”

“I actually didn’t do anything,” Tim said, and then had to pause. “Well, not after I gave it to Danny at least. I was just making sure everything was still good. Danny’s been tinkering with it.”

Danny gave a little shrug and picked at the edge of his hoodie.

“Do you like engineering then? Or inventing?” Babs asked, trying to encourage Danny to open up a little.

“Yeah, my— I—, I mean…” Danny stumbled over his words. He lost some of his color with each false start until he was worryingly grey. He swallowed thickly. “Yeah, I used to at least.”

“Danny, hot chocolate,” Dick said with impeccable timing as always.

Danny whispered a thanks and took the almost overflowing mug. He could basically hide behind the mound of whipped cream and he definitely tried to. Babs took the offered mug with a much more modest dollop but an absurd amount of bat sprinkles. Her lips twitched up in a smile as she took a sip.

Tim’s portion was somewhere in between Bab’s and Danny and of course Dick’s was practically laughable. It’s a wonder he didn’t make an absolute mess of himself drinking it as they argued over a movie to watch. It was clever of the Bats, really, they had started to narrow down how long Danny had been a test subject by what movies he had seen or not.

It was somewhere between seventeen and twenty-three months.

Nearly two years.

They were all lucky that Danny had made it out at all. They all knew the statistics of something like that.

Hot chocolate turned into dinner turned into Danny cuddling Dick on the couch and eventually resting against Bab’s legs. A good sign about her acceptance, according to the birds.

“Oracle?”

Babs had thought that Danny was asleep. She reached out to run the tips of her fingers through his hair. The lights from the movie that was still playing glinted off her pink nails. “Yes, Danny?”

“If I asked… would you be able to find someone for me?”

She tilted her head. “The person that I remind you of?”

“Yes. Just… just so that I know she’s okay.”

“Is she in danger?”

“No, she’s not like me. She’s…” Danny cut himself off, swallowing back the words.

“But you’d still like to know.”

“Yes.”

Babs hummed. It was technically an abuse of her powers, but they were something she abused all the time. “Yes, if you ask me to, I can find out if she’s okay.”

“Okay. I’ll… maybe I’ll ask. Thank you.”

“Of course, Danny.”

---

AN: I struggled with this chapter at first, but it was because I was jumping right to Barbara meeting Danny and not giving the others some more time to deal with the change in Danny. They still haven't really dealt with it, right now they're focused on healing and getting more help through Babs being around.

All our poor Bat's. So attached already and so traumatized.

But not as traumatized as Danny...

Stay delightful, darlings!

#dp x dc #batpham #city pigeons

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

Text

Morticia and Gomez Effect pt. 2

Mihawk X FemReader

Since people liked this made a part two!

Part 1 <<<

• Mihawk mood had been fowl as of late, Clearly issues had been getting to him silently. His wine intake growing and his irritation rising

• You needed to fix this, Anger was never the most attractive look for your husband anyway-

• He had been home for two days and still hadn't spoke. Instead sitting in his study and doing paperwork while drinking, Sometimes the waft of cigar smoke greeting you as well from the halls.

• "Growling at the wall?" You call out seeing him sitting there scowling at the wall with his face turned up like a beast growling.

• He glanced at you, Seeing you close the door behind you, as well as noticing your done up appearance- mainly the black dress that fit you like a lustful sin he had bought some time again- already lessening his angry face.

• "I am in no mood Wife, leave me" He said with a irritated sigh. He never called you 'Wife' only when truly upset did he say this, Just like how when he was furious he would use your name.

• "I see, so you don't wish for your spirits to be lifted?" You said with a smirk starting to crawl across your face. Walking to the other side of his desk to close a curtain.

• "No- nor do I wish for whatever parlor trick you have p-pla-" Mihawk couldn't even finish his sentence as you pulled down the front of your dress flashing him your naked chest with a smile.

• Just like any man at any age his eyes widened and mind blank at the sight of breast. You quickly pulling the dress back up with a smile.

• He frozen, His drink almost falling from his hand if he didn't clumsily catch it and hold it steady.

• Mihawk stared at you for a moment like he was trying to formulate a response, his stoic face starting to break as a hearty laugh broke through his lips. His woes easily being wiped away by your trick as he tried to wave it away.

• "Dragostea mea (My Darling) you are too much, drawing me from my mood in such a childish way" He mused as he reached his arm out and pulling you into his lap.

• You smile at his words and nestle yourself against his strong chest, Your fingers playing with the cross on his chest.

• "Well anything for you my Love~" You smile and pepper kisses on his face and lips. He gives a delighted groan and his hand travels to find the zipper of the dress.

• "Idle hands my Love" You warn making him grumble for a short while- Mainly cause you both knew what was coming.

• His lips falling from its smile as the door bursted open and Perona March in like she owned the place. Recently you had been in charge of training her- Especially since you felt like Mihawk was too soft on her.

• Mihawk sighed as he sat up and saw Perona standing there making a face at the two of you.

• "So Gross!-" She tried as she stared at you two and invaded the space, You smoothing down your dark gown as you stared at the young woman with a amused face.

• "What do you want Perona?" Mihawk said as she stomped into the room, You watching her glare at you and look away flustered.

• "I never got a thank you from you for my recent mission!" She yelled as she pointed to you

• "Thats because you failed-" You spoke plainly.

• "I didn't fail!" She began to rant about the events of loosing to someone who flashed rainbow colors and worse 'disgusting' pastels.

• "So you lost to someone in pastels, Didn't get the information needed, didn't listen to the advice I gave you for the last mission. Now you come through here causing a ruckus cause I will not reward you?" You spoke very carefully, watching her stiffen at the lace of irritation through your voice.

• She shuffled a bit awkwardly and gave a single nod. You sighing at this-

• "Now your failing in the mission is one thing but my darling girl- Being beaten by Pastels?" You mused, she had fallen prey to a pastel nightmare was just too much of a burn. Her face turning as pink as her dress as she fluttered out screaming and throwing a temper tantrum thankfully she slammed the door closed behind her.

• Mihawk sighing as he leaned in his chair and pulled you back against him properly.

• "Disobedient" You hummed with a tired sigh.

• "If we had our own they would be more obedient and skilled" He mused, You feeling him place another kiss to the back of your neck.

• Surprised by his words you roll so you are facing him now, seated on him like a saddle. His intense yellowed eyes meeting your gaze before continuing to kiss you this time down your throat.

• "You're making it sound like you actually want one?" You said in mused question, a few breathy moans leaving you as he proceeded to bite rather hard down on your soft skin and his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

• Catching his gaze as he pulls back you could read him like a picture book. He did?

• "You actually want a child?" You hummed as your eyebrow raised, Feeling your husband's eyes wonder your form. His arm doing a quick sweep over his desk to push everything to the side and floor, uncaring as he had a goal in mind.

• "I am surprised we haven't already given an army due to us taking caution to the wind" He said calmly, setting you on the desk as his hands made easy work of rolling up the dark garment over your thighs.

• "Well if it's an army you want-" You purr and pull him closer to you by the cross around his neck feeling him close the distance between you two. "We better make up for lost time~"

• He smirked at this as he leaned down to kiss you with wine flavored lips as his hands found the front of your dress and in a fluid motion ripped the fabric down the center.

• Lost time indeed

Tag list-

@who-the-hockeysticks @vexladin

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #op mihawk #mihawk x y/n #dracule mihawk x reader

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blueicequeen19 · 10 months

Text

The Help

Warnings: unprotected sex, blackmail, coercion, fighting, Rafe being a dick

You barely get a moment to catch your breath then he's inside you, pumping his hips and filling you painfully deep as he fucks you. Your legs wrap around his waist, your mouths smashed together in a passionate kiss as he hammers into you like his life depends on it. You're supposed to be making this quick anyway. You hear footsteps in the hallway, causing you to freeze for a moment but he doesn't stop despite being the one to demand discretion. Can't get caught fucking the help.

"I don't have a condom." He growls, burying his face in your neck as he licks and bites and kisses while railing you into the desk. Your back arches, your head thrown back as you near your release. One of his large hands fists the back of your hair, making your chest push out further as he trails his mouth down your collar bone.

"Don't stop." You rasp, your legs pushed open painfully wide as he hauls you even closer. He grunts, pulling back to look at you with swollen lips and blazing blue eyes before he's kissing you again, swallowing any sounds you might make.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum." Rafe growls, pushing your back flat on the desks surface and hammering into you with sexy deep grunts of pleasure. Your fingers slide between your thighs, eagerly stroking your clit until your body tightens and you cum with a choked cry, signaling his own release. You both continue to pant and moan as his thrusts slow, his cock pumping every bit of his seed deep inside you.

Finally, Rafe slows to a stop, remaining inside you while his chest heaves with every breath. You feel boneless and weak, your insides warm and euphoric as you try to grasp what just happened. You peek up at him to see his expression hardened as he withdraws his emotions then finally, the hard cock still throbbing inside you. He casts his eyes down as he steps back and turns away, making your body heat with humiliation. What's worse is when he starts to drip back out of you.

"Here. Go to the pharmacy." Rafe digs out his wallet and tosses a couple big bills on the desk, not meeting your eye as you lower your feet to the floor, your knees still weak.

"Um--."

"And call a doctor. I want you to get on birth control. I don't like condoms." Rafe sniffs before turning away and marching towards the door. You stand frozen for a moment before anger swells in your chest and the next thing you know, you've launched the lamp at him. It hits the door with a crash and Rafe freezes in place before slowly turning to face you, a brow raised.

"That's it? You fuck me, tell me to go get a plan B, then go see a doctor so you can keep fucking me?" Your body trembles with anger as Rafe's eyes narrow at you. He takes a warning step towards you, his hand outstretched like he's trying to calm a wild animal.

"Keep your voice down. This benefits us both." He hisses. When you shake your head violently, he bolts around the desk, grabbing you and shoving you down on the couch. You open your mouth to scream when his hand slaps down on your mouth, your body pinned beneath his.

"Stop it! What are you freaking out about? You don't want to fuck me again, is that it?" Rafe demands, removing his hand from your mouth to catch your arms as you try to lash out.

"I don't want to just fuck you, Rafe Cameron. I'm not that type of girl." You snarl, bucking beneath him as he chuckles darkly.

"Trust me, you are now, darlin'." Rafe leans down and kisses you hard. You try to resist but his tongue forces its way into your mouth, stealing your ability to think.

"You'll serve me during the day and warm my fucking bed at night." Rafe murmurs against your lips before gently pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. You whimper, your resolve slipping with each passing second.

"You'll get on birth control so I can keep cumming inside you and you'll do so immediately." He continues between kisses, his knees suddenly pressing between your wet thighs.

"You're going to keep your mouth shut and not tell anyone anything because I'm going to take care of you. And you're going to let me." Rafe sits back on the couch, yanking you onto his lap as he frees his cock again. He scoops his own cum off your thighs and uses it as lube as he pushes back inside your sensitive pussy.

"So be a good girl, do as you're told and shut up."

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #obx2 #rafe x y/n #rafe smut #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #Rafe Cameron smut #dark!rafe cameron

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cranberryjuice-posts · 3 months

Note

Hi, I wanted to ask for a Clarisse fanfic where the reader is gifted in the arts? I would also like to ask that the reader be a daughter of Hades :)

What’s a girl to do

Pairings - Clarisse La rue x daughter of hades! Fem! Reader

An - this lowkey sucked but YALL will live

You had always been gifted in the arts. From dance, music, art itself and even theater.

Being that you were a hades kid most kids avoided you, not that because your dad was the king of the underworld but because just being around you gave them an unsettling feeling.

Something every great artist had was a muse, someone they could go to for inspiration, someone that gave their work meaning. But you? You didn’t have a muse.

Sure you’ve had inspiration come from all types of media but never once did you have an actual person you could call your muse.

That had changed though when you met clarisse. It started out small with small doodles of her. Then she started to show up as small details in your song lyrics. And even going as far as using her as your model in your photos

You two were friends.. but you knew you wanted more then that.

——

Clarisse spun her spear around on the sandy beach. She was so in the moment that she hadn’t heard the sound of your camera going off.

She ended in a pose with her spear tucked under her arm. Panting that’s when she realized you were sitting near by.

“You know its creepy to take photos of people without their knowledge right”

“Eh you’ll live” you smiled. Clarisse had always been beautiful even in situations like now where she was panting and sweaty from her workout.

You walked over towards her smiling sat the picture

She was a natural. The way clarisse moved her body it was like she was meant to be infront of the camera.

subconsciously you started leaning into her to show her the photo. “this one here, I like how your curls kinda spun around with you, you know” You smiled, clarisse nodded placing a hand around your waist, she had always done that but it didn’t mean it didn’t get you flustered everytime.

“Mmhm” she stuck her spear in the ground before reaching over placing her free hand onto yours clicking back on the camera to a photo of her standing with her spear pointed down the sun hitting her at a certian angle adding dramatics. “this one is better”

“Well I think both are fine” you smiled looking over at clarisse. Your faces were close. So close if you even just moved a little you might accidentally kiss.

You waited for clarisse to do something, to move away and tell you to piss off but she didn’t. Instead you started to feel her rub circles on your hip.

Almost out of a movie mark clarisses bother appeared. “Clarisse!” He yelled gaining the now irritated girls attention.

“The hell do You want Mark im busy” she looked over at him not wanting to deal his bullshit. “It’s Sam and Jane, they got into another fight and are in the infirmary now Chiron wants to see you about it all”

You watched as clarisses closed her eyes trying to calm down even a little. She looked back at you before squeezing your hip and letting go to head off to beat her siblings.

You stood there frozen and embarrassed. Clarisse didn’t like you. There was no way if anything she liked silena. Clarisse only saw you as a friend…

Right..

——

Around 3am you decided to sneak out of your cabin not able to sleep.

Lazily walking around the camp trying to not get caught you noticed a familiar girl jumping out the ares cabin window. Using shadow travel you quickly moved to stand beside the cabin.

Clarisse sighed as she landed on the ground, silently closing the window “since when did you sneak out”

“Fuck!” She whisper yelled having to pull her hand back from hitting you. “What the hell are you doing out here”

“Selling hardcore drugs— now you tell me why your ever so quietly leaving your cabin” you sarcastically spoke. Clarisse rolled her eyes in defiance. “Your a pain in my ass you know” she scoffed.

You shrugged your shoulders. “You’ve said worse to Me” starting to follow the girl into the forest you took in the scenery.

The full moon brought you a sense of comfort, mainly in the fact that the goddess nyx had always brought protection to people in need through the veil of night.

Clarisse continued until she came to a clearing in the woods, high on the mountian side and far enough away from the camp you wouldn’t get caught but high enough you could see the stretched out lake.

“Wow..” you whispered. “I never new this spot existed”

“That’s supposed to be the point”

“Is this where you take girls to makeout with them then torture them before k—“

“I’m not some insane serial killer dumbass” clarisse laughed pushing you softly before sitting down. You followed her lead sitting a little to close to her.

After a few moments you watched as clarisse silently complained befote grabbing some Kindle Wood arranging it to make a small fire. Using a lighter most likely taken from the big house.

After sitting back watching the fire clarisse looked over at you. “How long have you been doing all this shit”

You raised an eyebrow confused. “You mean photography” you chuckled, Clarisse nodded in response her face unreadable.

You sighed for a moment “uhh I’m not really sure, I just I’ve always had a passion for the arts and been naturally gifted in them, I like photography the best with painting being right underneath though” you tucked some hair behind your ear slightly embarrassed.

“Why me” she continued to asked. “Like out of every camper here why am I the one you take the most photos of me”

“Well I Ju—“

“Wait wait don’t tell me you like me” clarisse laughed at the end of her statement. You went to speak but decided to stay quiet letting clarisse finish her laughing fit it. She soon stopped looking over with a playful face. “Wait seriously.. you use me as your muse because you like me”

You started to get up embarrassed walking away quickly not wanting to listen to the girl yelling after you. About five steps into your leave clarisse grabbed your arm. “Gods damnit can you just wait” she huffed.

“Yeah because I just love being laughed at thanks clarisse” you tried to pull your arm away but it was pointless “you know it’s actually really shitty to laugh at someone when you find out they like yo—“

You were cut off by clarisse grabbing your head and crashing her lips against yours. Not caring how messy it was, clarisse kept a firm hold on your head while grabbing your waist pushing you against her.

The kiss moved from messy to controlled. You let clarisse hold you close, soft breaths leaving both your mouths not wanting to pull away but still needing to breathe.

Pulling away you felt clarisses hot breath on your lips. “Do you ever stop talking” she asked now with her hand on the side of your face comfortingly rubbing circles. You rolled your eyes but kept quiet, your arms around clarisses neck.

Clarisses kissed you once again slowly, she pulled away kissing your cheek. “I like you to dumbass”

“Really..?”

“Uh yeah you really think I let anyone take photos and draw me?”

You playfully pushed the girls shoulder before pulling her back into a grinful kiss

“Great now that we’re together can we please go back to the fire it’s cold as shit out here”

“Whatever La rue”

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse my beloved #clarisse x female reader #butch clarisse #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse larue #pjo show #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #percy jackson

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pedge-page · 13 days

Text

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife #10 : Snack Time

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Momma bird hungry for all the snacks in the world. Takes some time and frustration before Joel figures out the exact kind of snack you really want.

Warnings: Pregnant reader, Angry!Joel, oral M!receiving, face fucking, throat bulge, throat-pie, dumbification, junk food binge, eating meat, bossy reader as always

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel didn’t know he married the Hungry Hungry Hippo, Galactus the planet devourer, Garfield the tabby cat.

You’re on your phone texting while cuddling Joel. He’s more interested in the movie than you are, but that doesn’t stop him from tracing his finger along your arm, occasionally kissing the top of your head and nuzzling his nose. He loves the scent of your shampoo after a wash, damp and cold against his warm chest. Sometimes you protest how closely he wants to cuddle you, all smushed up on the couch. Your body temp skyrocketed with the baby changing everything. But since he’s keep the AC on full blast, your warm heavy body keeps him from being a popsicle.

The landlines chimes in from the kitchen.

He rolls his eyes. Of course, something to interrupt the comfort that took 40 minutes for you to settle into. "I'll get it,” He grumbles quickly and hoists himself up off the couch. He wants to make whoever the fuck is calling at such a late hour a quick convo. If it’s fucking Tommy needing bailed out again, he thinks begrudgingly, I’ll just hang up on him.

He clears his throat and answers: “Hello, Miller Residents.”

"Can you get me a bowl of Cap'n crunch while you're up?"

He glances back over at you sitting up on the couch, your cell to your ear as you wave at him. you point to your belly mouthing I T S F O R T H E B A B Y.

It’s for the baby, my ass. You’ve been a hungry hungry hippo who’s been snacking like crazy and ignoring the doctor’s warnings.

But cranky Momma is way worse than a scolding doctor.

He grits his teeth and slams the receiver a little too hard down on the desk.

You can hear him shuffling around in the kitchen, a clash of a bowl on the counter and the jingle of overly processed cereal filling it up.

He walks back into the living room. You’ve taken up the whole couch now, with no inclination to move over to let him back on.

You shove a fist into the bowl and pop a bunch of the crunchy orange squares into your mouth “f’anks” you mumble, eyes not once making contact with him as you stare ahead and much away. Crumbs fall onto your chest and down to the floor and sofa, as if Joel hadn’t just cleaned all of it this morning.

The next night, Joel's cooking some steaks. You weren’t really a meat-crazed person, having maybe one or two helpings of poultry or occasionally red beef a week, but normally ,you could go without it for a few meals without thinking about it.

Pregnant momma? She was a fucking carnivore. He had barely set the sizzling steak down before you snatch one onto your plate. He turns around to slice into one, checking its temp before serving, only to see it was a bit too red and bloodied on the inside.

"Oh babe I gotta cook these a little longer; they're too rare--"

You were hacking away and tearing a large chunks of the red, near pulsing meat, juices pouring out your lips, a vampire gorged on a fat blood sucking meal. Despite its tenderness, you chew endlessly and stare off into the table like a Llama enjoying its food on the field.

"Maybe...we should—slow down a bit,” he suggests with uncertainty. His fork and knife frozen in midair, still in each hand. He hasn’t shifted view or blinked, but clear worry (and maybe a tad bit of fear) stretch across his face.

"Uighgrrfmggmmdeeofxsw,” you reply with gargled cow remains sloshing in your wide open trap.

“Right. That."

You swallow what’s left. Joel’s does a double take: your steak is somehow gone, juice licked clean off the plate in front of you.

“Can I have yours???"

He had only sliced 4 cuts for himself so far. But the hungry look in your pupils, licking your lips while watching his dinner, it’s clear you’ve answered for him. He sadly sets his cutlery down and slides his plate to you.

Its even more interesting when you douse it in salt and throw a slab of butter on top of it, watching it melt before slicing a big chunk off.

"You gotta watch the salt intake—“

“—Can you make chicken? I want chicken now.”

“N-no,” he shakes his head, whiplash from the conversation. Maybe you’ve gone def AND blind AND lost your taste buds. “I made steak. You've had 2 steaks now. Why do you need chicken?”

“That second one was for the baby. The chicken is for me.”

“What about the fist one?”

“….We split that.”

“Awfully hungry baby,” he says with a dead tone, straight faced as he eats the one roll left in the basket that hasn’t been devoured by you.

“Well she’s yours, isn’t she?”

You wipe your face with a napkin, a fried chicken leg and wing now securely packed tight in your tum tum along with the famished baby.

"What's for dessert?" You chime eagerly.

Joel turns to wash the dishes, hiding his smirk. He’s got you now, no surprise cravings will catch him short on this one: He boasts proudly, “I bought you apple pie--"

"I want cupcakes. Whip cream icing. Chocolate.”

His grin quickly deflates into a frown. “No.” He says sternly, a little aggravated. “I bought you pie—“

"Did I say I want pie? L I S T E N,” you snap, slapping your palms together with each syllable.

He puts his foot down with tense sudsy hands going to his hips. “No. I'm not going out again.”

You raise your eyebrows threateningly. One look.

30 minutes later Joel is shuffling into the house with a pack of 12 cupcakes he bought at the bakery.

You’ve managed to prop yourself up on the couch after some heaving. “Ha! The baby is making me workout get strong! Obviously that’s why I’m so hungry.” You shrug it off. “Oh! I want raw cookie dough.”

Joel was on his phone the entire time, but the second you said I want, his brain queued in and he quickly retorts, “No.”

He goes back to replaying the voicemail he missed, settled and focused on the opposite couch.

Of course he Doesn't realize you’ve somehow lumbered up past him and now waddling back with 4 chunks of raw cookies in your hand, popping them in your mouth one at a time.

His eyes dark up to watch you, transfixed on the screen as you bend your knees, hardly paying attention to the way you’re about to fall on the couch. He has half the mind to help, but what’s one lesson you need to learn the hard way?

Regretfully, you bounce down successfully and pull your legs up.

And then, as you dust your hands off from the chocolate stains melted on your palms, Joel’s lips part in a o as you reach behind you and pulling an entire gallon container of animal crackers.

"Babe"

"Wha?” You don’t turn around to look at him, still shoveling them into your mouth. “Yuu wan wan?"

"You need to stop eating every damn thing in the house.”

You gasp incredulously, your hand over your heart in painful offense. “The baby is very hungry! She's related to you and that belly.”

He only remembers to stop himself from reminding you that your belly is much bigger than his now.

"The baby—“ (that was the new thing now: the baby this baby that. The baby is why I need this shirt in blue and green. The baby is why I need the ice cream layered horizontally not stacked vertically. The baby —)

"No. Not the baby,” he snaps. “You."

You start to cry. "I thought I AM your baby!!!"

He gives you a “seriously” look and you stop the fake tears.

“So how about it?”

“I don’t want you getting salmonella.”

“ugh fine. You can bake them I guess.”

He’s about to protest the idea of any dough going into your body, cooked or raw, but knows its going to be a lost cause.

Joel makes you a platter of Assorted cookies: chocolate chip, fudge, triple chocolate, sugar, and oatmeal raisin.

You clap your hands as he carefully places the little plate atop your bump. Humored by the custom “mini” table you’ve got going on now. Maybe his baby doesn’t like her head being used as a countertop, but with the way you close your eyes and moan after biting into the chocolate chip, babygirl must be pleased too.

He goes to the bathroom quickly and then comes back only to glare down at you. You've taken exactly one bite out of every single cookie, leaving crescent shapes for him to scathe.

Every cookie, except oatmeal raisin. You clearly did take a bite ,but spit it out and put the lump back near the undesirable #1 cookie.

“These mine?” Joel asks bemused.

You nod happily. You felt very proud to have enough control and leave him some this time!

It’s about 9:30 pm. You're acting drunk and woozy even tho you're just a new level of tired and achy

"Woopppoooooo!!! Paaartttaaayyy!" You shout with fists in the air, drinking down a shot glass of sugar water.

“Alright party Momma. It’s bedtime.”

"Ppfffttt! No old man! Dont steal my fun.”

Joel stands over the couch, blocking your view from the TV, his hands on his hips. “You're being difficult "

“YoU’rE bEiNg DifFicUlT,” you mock and wave him off. "Oop I need to pee. Help me up.”

Joel” grabs both your grabby hands and hoists you up to your feet. “Now up the stairs, you.”

You waddle towards the stairwell, one hand cupping your lower back. Joel is right at your heel. you up at the treaturous journey ahead, all 8 steps to the top floor. Cracking your neck side to side, you wave your arms over to the handrail and begin: “Left foot. Right foot. Left. Fuck. Fuck stairs. Who invented stairs. Left foot…”

Joel’s so sleepy that he nearly falls forward. And he knows you would not take too kindly to him ramming his face into your ass as you battle your worst enemy.

Finally to the top, you scurry over like a penguin to the bathroom. He fears the long night ahead, with all the sugar swirling in your system undoubtedly going to keep him up.

He rubs his wears eyes. Startled when a moment later you’re right next to him by your side of the bed, patiently waiting for him to help you up.

"Get in the covers,” he hums with exhaustion.

But you don’t move. “No"

"Now.”

"I want an orange.”

"No. You—you just had your snack."

"That was the baby's snack. I want MY snack”.

Dear Christ almighty, bless me with a boy next time so that I have a fighting chance against her and mini her. “If I get you an orange, will you go to bed?" He asks irritably, his voice enunciating each word to ensure the contract that he’s making with you right now is solidified on both ends of the bargain.

You think it over before nodding with a little innocent beam.

You crawl into the covers just as Joel descends the stairs once again. It takes the entire time for him to grab some oranges, a peeler, and paper towel just for you to rotate your middle and sit your ass in bed.

You sit up against the headboard and clap your hands, so excited when he reappears with the goods. He puts the towel on your mini-table bump and plops one orange atop.

Joel sighs and begins to walk towards his side of the bed, but is haunted when you clear your throat for his attention.

“Yes?”

"Peel it.”

He tries not to visibly roll his eyes before he's opening the round orange with his large fingers and clubbed nails. Everything smells like nectarine now.

Picky as can be, you peel off the extra dried white veiny bits and suck on each pod of the orange.

You expect a sweet simpleness to squirt on your tongue, but instead, a sour, bitter, unripe taste floods your mouth. “Ugh these are gross, now I want—“

Joel closes his wardrobe drawer, his shirt off and only halfway down to his boxers. “NO. NO means fucking NO. I’M TIRED. YOU’RE TIRED. WE'RE GOING TO BED. NOW,” he barks sternly into the mirror. His shoulders huffing from such aggression without being able to look at you.

You throw the covers off, orange skin and slices flying everywhere.

“Fuck you! I want ice cream! I want bananas and steak and potatoes and tacos and—!"

He bares his teeth in a snarl, deep angered eyes casting downward with each poignant rut. “You're so annoying, so goddamn spoiled,” he grunts. His huge hands are wrapped around the top of your head and cupping your jaw and bulging cheek, keeping you in place as he pushes his length into your mouth over and over again. “You’re gonna do shit when I tell you, the first time I say—shit—fuck there we go—gonna listen—unnggghhfff—listen ta me from now on. Just be my good little silent. Slutty. Pregnant. Wife.”

Your teary eyes are fixed upward at his imposing figure. Feeling each time his tip nudges the back of your throat has you gagging but you can’t pull away to breathe—not that you want to.

“You get—what I give ya—and you be grateful bout it.”

You gargle a moan in agreement. His balls slap against your chin with brutal punches. by this time tomorrow, there will be Joel-finger prints bruising your face and neck.

You love it. You love it when Joel forces you out of the hormonal phase of bossing him around, the endless need to want more and more, no end in sight to your greedy gluttonous desires, until he’s blowing up and blowing off steam using you instead. And it becomes very clear to you how much you just really wanted him this whole time.

“That’s it—that’s it—you were hungry for my cock weren’t ya? Yeahhhh. Just begging me all night for it. Wanted all that meat for dinner, huh? Couldn’t just come out n’ say it? Your little brain didn’t know what ya truly needed. S’okay, Momma. I’m takin’ care of ya, aren’t I?”

The gluglugglug sounds mixed with strained pitchy whines echo in the master bedroom.

You grip his thighs with your hands to steady yourself, allowing him to abuse your throat. Maybe your knees hurt. Maybe the baby is settling uncomfortably against your lower back, and maybe it’s going to be really difficult to get up from this position in a few minutes. But each thick throb of his length filling your mouth over and over again, the spit slick strings dropping from your lips to your swollen tits, and the dent in your throat from his cock stretching to accomodate his size has your swollen pussy dripping into the carpet for more, more, more.

It’s been at least a week since Joel drained himself. No wonder he’s been so on edge with each demand. Usually marveling how cute you are, but tonight he was at him limit. You were about to get a hefty, Joel Miller sized load filling your belly, and it’s going to be better than any cookie, steak, or orange in the entire world.

He feels the way your lips suction tighter. Your eyes are leaking tears, and he smirks as he brushes his thumb over to collect it. Briefly bringing it to his tongue and sucking on the salty taste before holding your head in place.

“Shhh-shhhhhhhh. You gonna take it? Shit—shit—fuck yeah you are. Gonna fuckin take what I give ya, that’s right. My sweet wife. Bossing me around. Shit. Love when ya get like this. Known I’m gonna wreck that ass or that pussy or that mouth—all belongs to me. Fuck—fuck—fuuckk—“

His mouth drops into an o, brows drawn tightly together as slams his pulsing member balls deep into your mouth one final time. You choke, eyes wide as the tip of his cock breaches the deepest part of your throat, your nose suffocated by his pubic hairs and the fat of his lower belly surrounding your cheeks. His balls twitch against your lower lip, and you feel it coming. The travel of his seed from his sack, up his shaft along your tongue—a generous spurt of cum finally shooting from his tip and down your throat. You gag with each fat load that he pumps down your esophagus, too much to swallow at once yet having no other choice but to gulp it down quickly. Your face feels hot. He’s cumming endlessly, your mind blanking and eyes feeling blurry.

“Take it, take it, take it, that’s it,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

You nod just a little, hugging your arms around his thick thighs tighter. He grins, humming “That’s my good fucking wife, and throws his head as the last of his pleasure makes its way safely from his sated balls to your full womb.

Joel pulls you off his length gently. You sputter out cum and saliva onto his feet, sucking in air through your lungs like a newborn.

Joel gets to one knee, his thumb pressed gently under your chin so you look directly at him. He’s got such softness in his eyes again, the ones that just switch on a dime the second he’s satisfied his aggress out on you.

You’re completely wrecked: snot spit connecting to your nostrils and swollen lips, cheeks warm and eyes puffy and hazy with exhaustion and tears.

“That—mmffffgg!—was—definitely—my—snack,” you rasp with a hoarse voice. A lazy grin spread across your face only briefly as you continue to suck air.

Joel shakes his head before planting a long kiss atop your forehead. his hands glide along your body, and just in time as your knees give way and you’re falling into him.

If you had half the mind right now, you’d curse him out for scooping you up and carrying you to bed like his once youthful bride, too concerned with the size and weight of your new body putting unnecessary stress on his aging knees and back. But Joel doesn’t protest once. Just watches you with loving eyes as he settles you into the soft bed. His tongue dips to your chest and breasts, kissing and sucking away any remnants of his rough face fucking. His cum, your spit, and fuvk it, even the little snot specks—all of it he cleans up before coming up to your lips. He kisses you softly with gentle pecks, enough to ensure you can still catch your breath. He sucks your lower lip into your mouth before wiping his own with his thumb. You’re calmer now, sated and drifting so close to sleep.

Joel clambers into bed next to you, wrapping his arm under your head and swaddling you close. You instinctively roll into his embrace. Kissing his peck and rubbing your face against him dreamily with soft breaths. “Tha hit ther spert juss rite. Ur da bess, Jol.”

“I know. So are you.” He waits for a reply, but nothing comes from you. “Are you goin’ into a food coma, baby?”

Your gentle snores answer him, along with the drool now pooling on his peck.

He chuckles and pulls your head into his face, inhaling your scent. Strong, secure, graceful hands caress your big belly. Your very very full belly, the one that he’s not going to envy when it gives you a the tummy ache tomorrow from stuffing it with so much junk food tonight.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop

#pedro pascal smut #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #last of us smut #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us smut #the last of us fic #last of us fic #joel dealing with preggo wife

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tacticaldiary · 7 months

Text

Recovery In Tandem

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Content Warning: Torture, Men being creepy, mentions of sexual assault, Simon and the reader get their revenge.

"Good. You're doing good." Simon soothes, running a hand up and down her back. "That's it, love. Keep breathing, yeah?"

"I can't do it." She sobs a sound that makes Simon's chest tighten, clutching onto his like he's the only thing keeping her afloat. "I can't...it's-I'm always back there-"

A/N: Sequel to 'Captured In Tandem'. Read Part 1 Here to get the full context

Masterlist

It's odd, coming back to what used to be so normal.

Days in a dingy basement with only a lover as broken as she was or company. She had to be strong for him back then, just as Simon had been determined to be for her, but now...

Now there was nothing to be strong for.

No ropes digging into her ankles and wrists, nobody forcing hurt on her for answers she couldn't give. No reason to keep her chin up to chase away the angry, anguished looks in Ghost's eyes as she was beaten and shot and put through the worst humanity has to offer.

Watching back the recordings the sick bastards had made was easy. She'd done it with a numb sort of dissociative manner. Watched herself be touched and shot while Ghost spat out threats that would make a normal man turn pale. They'd assured her she didn't have to sit through it, that she could deliver her statement and reports through memory alone but something in her itched to see living, visible proof that it was all real.

Sometimes she feels insane, stuck in her own head.

Ghost had to leave the room when they hit play.

He never said anything, just got up, pushed his chair in and left. It was funny, a detached part of her had thought when he'd walked out. She'd seen him do the most squeamish things, known he'd gone through much worse, but seeing her be tortured, ripped into half the shreds he was, was somewhat too much to bear for him.

That had been 12 days ago.

Price has taken her access to the video away after the ninth time she'd watched it.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"I know you're bad at sharing but you wouldn't mind if I had a taste, would you?" The man croons at Ghost. His breath fans across her face, acrid and disgusting. A choked sob tears out of her lips when his hand trails up her body-

And she...she can't move?

Her head is a leaden weight, fixed firmly to the grimy ground under her, her limbs frozen as she watches it happen in terror. She has to do something, to push him away, bash in his nose with her skull, but she can't move, Ghost is yelling and shouting and threatening, and she can't do anything but sit there helplessly as she squeezes her eyes shut, breath ragged-

His hands stop on her shoulders, clutching them tight enough to aggravate the old wounds, she's being shaken, a voice in her ear, low and-...and soothing? A rumble she knows so well, mumbling something that doesn't match up with what should be happening-

She wakes up with a start, a choked gasp tearing its way from her throat. There are hands on her, holding her shoulders and she clumsily tries to scratch them away, to push, mind still scrambled and half awake.

"-alright, I've got you." The ringing in her ears subsides and words make themselves known to her right by her ear. A hand grabs hers, presses it against something warm and scarred and beating, the scent of gun smoke and oak invading her senses as she snaps back to the present.

It's not a chair or a hard floor under her, it's soft sheets that rustle as she trembles, pressed close to someone so familiar and warm

Warm. She was never warm back there.

A shuddering breath loosens out of her chest, mixed with a sob as the fight drains out of her

"Good. You're doing good." Simon soothes, running a hand up and down her back. "That's it, love. Keep breathing, yeah?"

"I can't do it." She sobs a sound that makes Simon's chest tighten, clutching onto his like he's the only thing keeping her afloat. "I can't...it's-I'm always back there-"

"You're not." He slides her hand out from under his shirt where he'd pressed it over his heart, pulls her in closer to him. "We got out. You got us out."

Nightmares. Night terrors, more specifically.

She dreamt about dying.

He dreamt about watching her die.

Simon was more subtle about it. He hadn't told her at first, keeping his troubles guarded lest he give her more to worry about during her recovery. She'd found out when something jostled her in the middle of the night, had switched on the lamp to see him tense, with a gritted jaw.

He'd told her he'd been having them all his life, that he was used to them, but that didn't make her feel any better, didn't help her deal with her own.

The same scene, over and over again, but this time she's unable to escape, unable to move. She has to let it happen and watch the both of them die.

Every. Fucking. Night.

"Listen to me." He says firmly, and when she doesn't respond, he pulls her away from where she's buried her face into the crook of his neck. "Eyes on me. Right here." He urges in that same commanding voice he'd told her to grab the knife with all that time ago.

She obliges and something so distressed in her eyes makes a pang of anger and upset hit his heart. Not at her. Never at her.

Simon's just upset that he didn't get to rip those motherfuckers into shreds with his own two hands.

"We're not there." He curls a hand around the back of her neck. "You killed him, we're safe." His mouth ticks down. "Don't leave pieces of yourself behind, yeah? They don't deserve an inch more of you than they've already taken."

"We're safe." She breathes out, repeating him and relaxing when he gives her a nod of approval.

"That's right." His thumb circles her nape softly, a reassuring pressure that keeps her grounded. "Wouldn't have fucking lived with myself if I let a bastard like that be the end of you."

He considers the small quirk of her lips as a victory.

"No?" She questions, leaning into him, exhaustion tugging at her bones.

"Negative." He confirms.

"I think of it a lot." She admits after a moment. "I go there every night. Watched the tape to figure out if there was anything...sooner I could have done."

Lips press against her temple, hot and firm as she lets her eyes slip shut.

"If there was, I would've done it." There's a deep-seated regret in his voice, the gravel of guilt weaving its way through the sediments of his thoughts. There are a few moments of silence, and she thinks that might be all he has to say but Simon surprises her by going on:

"It was hell." He says in a low voice, almost hesitant to verbalise it to her. "Never been so off-kilter, seeing you all banged up and mangled." He puffs a quick exhale against her skin. "Would've skinned those fuckers alive if I could."

And she believes him.

The threat of such violence may be a deterrent to others, but it warms her inside out to know that she's barrelled past all his walls and settled into his heart as someone he'd go to those lengths to protect.

"I know." She whispers. Simple. Knowing. Mutual.

They stay like that until she drifts back off to sleep. It's not hard, given the little hours she's only been able to get before being woken up by her own mind. It's a solace, knowing he'd be there to coach her through it every time, to reassure and ground and hold her until the worst of it passes.

Simon watches her drift off.

He couldn't leave her side after Gaz had found them. Fought and glared at anybody who dared to tell him to step away from her. Even when being given medical attention of his own, his gaze was always fixed on her.

The strongest fucking person he knows.

Ghost prides himself on being someone efficient, someone who goes in and out and gets the job done with terrifying purpose.

It had all flown out the window the moment he registered that she was with him in that room, bound in front of him. When they'd caught on that she was the one person he'd burn the fucking world down for, he hated himself for letting it show.

His arms tighten around her, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against his own, reminding himself that she was still here. Alive. With him.

His. Always his.

He couldn't do much to change the past...

But he could do a hell of a lot to make them feel better about the future.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"You certain about this?" Price raises an eyebrow, watching the rigid set of Ghost's shoulders. He stares at the glass looking into the observation room.

"Positive." Voice clipped, eyes cold.

There is no Simon here, just the harsh chill of Ghost.

Price doesn't say anything more, simply takes a drag of his cigar, letting the smoke out into the air in a slow exhale. "This is off the books." The implications of the words make something cruel and satisfied curl in his chest. "Intel is your priority. Their lives are not."

There's brewing anger underneath his Captain's words. Anger at the outcome, at receiving two of the best soldiers of his prized task force back injured, one of them in tatters. He'd sat outside the operating room the entire time she'd been in surgery.

If he didn't think Ghost deserved to more, he'd go in there himself.

"Copy." Ghost clips out, and then pushes the door open.

He recognises about 5 of the 8 men bound in front of him, slumped against the wall. He doesn't care about the unfamiliar 3, they were here and therefore associated.

That was enough of a crime for him to feel no remorse.

They straighten up as he enters and Ghost can't help the rush of grim satisfaction at the way they shuffle and bristle when they realise who it is.

Ghost stares them down for a moment, before dragging a cart from the shadows of a corner into the light.

Knives, a bat, a pistol, and other knick-knacks that he intended to test out. Laid out neatly for him to rifle through and choose.

He picks the pistol, loading the chamber full.

It dawns on them pretty quickly, and some of them start stuttering and talking at him, words that buzz around his head. Others hold their chins high and Ghost cannot wait to make them break.

He drags the one nearest to him closer, kicks the man's knee out sending him kneeling to the floor. Before the man can start to talk, Ghost levels the gun to his head and fires a shot clean through his skull.

Blood splatters near the feet of the 7 others.

"That's the most merciful I'll be getting." He says, voice ringing through the room. He surveys the room briefly. "I doubt any of you'll be giving me half the fight the woman you beat did."

"They were our orders!" One of them yells, tugging at his bindings. "We did what we were told."

"Your mistake." Ghost says unfeelingly, clicking the chamber of his gun shut again. "Touching her was a death sentence."

He doesn't give them a single word more.

One by one, he makes them all crack, makes the others watch just as he was forced to. Screwdrivers, knives, and his own two hands ripped through flesh and cracked bones, stoking and soothing the fire running under his veins. Each scream and cry reminds him of the ones she'd let out, the ones he had to endure and listen to because of these bastards, eggs him on to be more brutal and ruthless.

Unforgiving.

He doesn't need to ask a single question.

They cry out their answers in desperate pleas of mercy, anything and everything that they think Ghost would possibly want to know.

Personnel, safehouses, weapons, and coordinates. They all come pouring out between the cracks of their bones, the ringing of bullets, and the quiet slashes of his knife.

Ghost doesn't hear a single word. It would all be recorded for whoever the hell to go through later on, but Ghost doesn't care about any of it. The only thing he's focused on is paying back what's due in dividends.

By the time he's done, there's more blood on the floor than the drain could keep up with, and the cold rage had receded back enough for him to be satisfied.

Price doesn't comment when he emerges, silently nodding before walking off to find the only person who matters. There were no pieces of him left in that room. He'd reserved each one of them for her.

He'll be damned if he ever lets anybody break her down again.

Not on his watch.

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(25/09/2023)

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medium-rare-bimbo · 9 months

Text

Piss kink with billy Hargrove

Mean billy x crybaby reader

♡Masterlist♡

MINORS DNI

May contain Dubcon, humiliation, piss obviously

༺*:ﾟ･✧･:*:ﾟ･♡ readmore ♡･ﾟ:*:･✧･ﾟ:*༻

♡ you were driving back from a party one town over, you hadnt drank much alcohol sticking to your giant cup of whatever fruity drink you had, constantly refilling it so you hand your hands full

♡ you had needed to pee a couple of houses back but was sure you could hold it, however when billy was constantly hitting the bumps in the road causing your bladder to jolt making the ache worse

♡ half way down a deserted road you were pressing your thighs together with so much force that you were frozen still to the seat whimpering every time the car shifted

♡ billy wasnt and idiot, not in the slightest, he knew the clenching of your thighs wasnt from arousal he was good, but he wasnt that good. He purposefully swerved for the bumps and holes in the road as soon as he saw the furrow of your brow and the squeezing of you legs indicating that you needed to pee

♡ you would occasionally glance at him hoping he would ask what was wrong so you wouldnt have to blurt out your needs, working up the confidence to speak, with watering eyes and heated cheeks you pathetically whispered out "billy I need to pee..."

♡ "What d'ya say? couldn't hear you" knowing full well he did of course he wasnt going to admit that to you, seeing you wiggle in discomfort was so much better then letting you say things without being embarrassed

- "i-.. I need to pee.."

♡ he barked out a mocking laugh "you need to pee? Really? Why didnt you do before we left? I told you to go before we got in the car"

"I-I tried to go but I couldnt-"

"You tried? So you didnt go? God women- you're gonna have to hold it I'm not pulling over theres no bathrooms until we get back to Hawkins -"

"But billy I need to go now! I'm not gonna be able to hold it for that long"

♡ your voice was shaking and your lips were wobbling as your tears started to fall as you tried to convince him to find somewhere to let you relieve yourself

"Wh-what if I pee myself-"

♡ he grabbed you by the neck at tilted your face with gritted teeth he growled out

"You piss on my seat I'm leaving you out here to fend for yourself ya hear me?"

"No billy please! I just want to pee please dont leave me"

♡ at this point you were sobbing your full bladder and thoughts of Billy abandoning you in the middle of a road where hardly anyone came by was becoming too much. He suddenly stopped the car, pulling over to the side of the road getting out and storming his way over to your side and opening the car door before removing your seat belt and pulling you out.

♡ "if you want to piss so badly do it now"

"W-what-"

"You heard me, you either piss now or do it in the car"

"But its embarrassing Billy- I- i dont want to pee on the floor-"

♡ your tears increased as you spoke, your voice sounding like a whiny crybaby. Billy grabbed your shoulders and pushed you down so you were squatting

"Piss."

"I need to take of my underwear a-and my shoes- t-they'll get all wet and gross-"

" jesus you're so high maintenance" He pushed you on your back pulling your shoes off, throwing them into the car "Just pull them to the side for God sake, you wanted to piss so bad, now piss"

♡ he sat in your seat staring down at you as you looked up at him sobbing mess with your hand between your thighs pushing your underwear to the side giving him a small glance at your cunt, The other holding on to his car while you tried to balance yourself

"Billy.. cant go if you're watching i-'is dirty"

"Suck it up You either go now or never"

♡ you let out a whimper and looked away to humiliated for him to see your face however his eyes were no where near your face rather glued to your pussy as it started to release the thing you've been desperately holding In

♡ your pussy fluttered as you finally got release you whined and whimpered as you hear him let out a groan, the liquid spreading over the floor and soaking into the ground aswell as your socks you tried to shuffle out the way to avoid it but your efforts were useless as you almost fell back into your mess (which billy chuckled at)

♡ a car drove passed making you squeal with embarrassment, your chest stuttering as you tried to calm yourself praying they didnt see you. what felt like an eternity you finally finished you gave a few squirts of piss trying to get all of it out, some of it dribbling down your thighs. You looked up at him, you hadnt stopped crying since he pulled you out of the car, he looked down at you, his hand resting on his bulge.

"What? You went now get in the car but take your socks off I'm not having your piss covered feet in my car"

"I- I need a napkin billy I'm all gross"

♡ he rolled his eyes smirking down af you before leaning down

"Too bad, shouldnt have used all of the ones we had to do your make up"

His condescending tone making you cry even more as you asked him to try and find something

♡ he huffed and pulled you to your feet peeling off your socks and making you lie back on the seat

"Billy what are you doing-"

"Shut up"

♡ he pulled your underwear back to the side and put his mouth over you now soaked pussy he cleaned up the remnants of your piss making sure you were all "clean" so you wouldnt complain. The only noises heard were your sniffles, whimpers and Billy's slurping.

♡ he sat up and slapped your thigh before wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he pulled you into a kiss which you tried to back out off, disgusted, but unfortunately for you he kept you in place. He shut your door and got back into the car, the silence was overwhelming and you werent sure how to respond or act after experiencing what you just did.

"Just so you know I'm going to ruin that ass when we get home, we're going to be home late because of you"

#billy hargrove x reader #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove smut #billy x reader #tw: piss kink

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dilfartist · 11 months

Text

Missed - short (pt.2)

Pairing; Yandere Las Plagas Leon Kennedy x reader

Synopsis; it’s the week after Leon’s attack and the scientists examining and aiding Leon, need your assistance.

Reader description; Female/GN

Word count; 1k

TW; Dead dove do not eat, non-con, there isn’t really a smut scene, depends on how you interpret it, nonconsensual touching, messed up shit, ooc Leon. NSFW. Also tagged everyone who wanted to be tagged but its acting weird so few may not be notified.

!Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!

Nothing seems real to you anymore.

Your boyfriend working for the government was more than enough news to handle, but Leon obtaining some parasite, becoming one himself understandably tended to hurt your head.

After last week's events, you come by daily. While they did request this of you, you would have done it anyways.

Every day you wake then drive straight to the facility holding him; never missing a day. And with each passing day, he grows worse. His body changed, sprouting more veins than the last time you saw him. He looks lifeless. His baby blue eyes are now a piercing ruby color, that stare into your soul.

Leon as a person has altered. He’s more touchy, touching you anytime he can. Leon doesn’t care for your opinion, or consent on the matter. Not anymore. Aggression is a main part of his personality now. While Leon was rarely aggressive with you, it still terrified you to see him throw a tantrum and nearly rip out a security guard’s throat because you wanted to leave early.

His presence alone has grown suffocating. And You’re starting to get uncomfortable just being around him.

And the experimenters monitoring Leon aren't helping. They only ever approve of you around to gather intel. Sometimes they’ll guilt you into staying in his enclosure, observing his actions on the other side of a double mirror. Other times they’d full-on pay you to spend five or more hours with Leon. Of course, you’d have no issues if Leon acted like his old self. But that was the issue. He wasn't himself anymore.

It’s currently two o’clock and you’re attending Leon’s daily visits.

“We have one more experiment we’d like to run on Leon, but we need your help to explore what we’d like to explore.”

You nod, observing Leon from the other side of the double mirror. Leon sits crisscrossed next to a large television watching MTV mindlessly, gnawing on a slice of pizza. Leon sports grey sweatpants and a slight sauce messy white tee.

You turn your head finally providing your attention to the scientist beside you, “What is it?” you questioned.

She fixed her glasses to look down at her clipboard, “Well, Leon has been very emotional lately. We’d appreciate it if you’d go inside and just talk with him.”

You lift an eyebrow looking at her septically, “Is that all?”

She nods. “Yes, that is all. You know he only communicates with you.”

“Alright then.”

You enter Leon’s isolation when the door slides open. Leon’s room contained paper-white walls, an extensive mirror, both a couch and bed on opposite sides of each other, a television, and a bathroom area. It felt like a zoo enclosure.

Leon took a minute to glance your way. He was too captivated by the flashing images on the television. Wanting to get the interaction over with, you called out for him. “Leon.”

Leon’s eyes darted in your direction. “(Name)!” he jumped up, jogging over to you. He hugged you tightly, running kisses up and down your neck. You're frozen in an awkward position, “Hey, missed you too, Lee.”

Leon ceases his kissing, pulling away from your neck to look you in the eyes. “Been wondering when’s the next time you’d visit.”

You chuckle, “I visit every day, Leon.”

“It feels like an eternity when you're not around.”

Leon and you lay on the couch, Leon resting his head on top of your chest. You held him close, staring at the ceiling. For abeat there was a pregnant silence, the both of you focusing on each other’s company. Then Leon spoke. Leon asked about your life: how was work? Was anything new happing? Any recent drama. He yearned for a bit of normalcy. Wanted to forget about Spain. Just wanted his main reflections on you.

Since Leon’s trip nothing was the same, not for him. Not for you. While, yes, his normal life ended after the raccoon city incident, he managed to somehow have a- what would you call it? Semi-normal life. Living with you at least.

But now it was gone. The las plazas had terminated any chance of normality for Leon. And if by chance the government’s scientists somehow cured Leon of his parasite, he’d still be left with the side effects of retaining the Las plagas for as long as he did.

Leon’s body had changed in such drastic ways. And his main concern was the upsurge in his libido.

Hours and hours he’d fist his cock, mulling on the times you’ve sucked his cock. No matter how hard, how fast, or even the time spent he couldn't stop. It hurt too much if he did. The other day the pain didn't go away until he fainted from exhaustion. He needed you. He needed to stuff you so bad it physically pained him.

His mind was barraged with thoughts of breeding your sweet pussy. Leon wasn’t the idea of having kids with you, honestly, it thought about a lot. However, this was different. It was an obsession now. Thoughts on breeding you made him cum so quickly, it became his number one fantasy.

Laying here listening to your rambling on the next-door neighbor's fight last night, his nose picks up an ambrosial smell originating from you. You smell sweet. Oh so, so, so sweet.

Leon’s ears ring, deafening him. His eyes focus on your clothed thighs. How he missed the plush skin he used to lay on after a hard week of work. More than that, he missed planting kisses on them; earing drawled out moans of his name.

Almost like an instinct, Leon’s rough, calloused, hands griped your hips. You halt and looked down at him with curiousness. Uncertain of his next actions, you press your hands against him. Worriedly you utter his name, “Leon?”

Leon refuses to acknowledge the call of his name. His main priority being his cock beginning to stiffen in his sweats.

You swallow nervously, endeavoring to pry his hands off. “Leon, please take your hands off me.” you plead in a stern manner, to come off more as a command.

Leon shakes his head. “No,” he responded, voice trembling. “You have no idea how much I need you, (Name). It's torture not having you stroke me.” he nearly moans at the last part. He climbs up the couch to be face to face.

Leon’s eyes held an immense dose of desire as he looks at you through his eyelashes. “Please touch me, baby,” he whines. “Want ‘ya so bad!” he grips your hand, placing it near your mouth to plant a kiss.

You glance at the mirror, silently pleading for assistance. Comprehending Leon’s increase in strength, kicking him off wouldn't be an option since his grip on you tautened. “Leon, stop!”

Quickly you thought of a method of escape. You acted, moving to the side for your body to decline to the ground. Both you and Leon fell to the ground, dragging cushions with you. Immediately you are on your feet, dashing to the door. You slam your fist against the metal, bruising them in the process. You could care less. Your shouting so loud your throat starts to sting. Yet there’s no reply.

You know there are people out there! You saw at least five before entering.

Then a thought comes to mind. Did they plan this?

Leon yanks you out of your shock, slamming his body against yours. Your nose whacks against the metal, prompting a whine of pain. Akin to a vampire, Leon laches on your neck, trailing kisses up and down. He sucks, bites, and drags his tongue over the marks as his hand travels down the slit in your pants.

“Sorry, baby, can’t deny myself any longer!” he apologizes, surprisingly genuinely. You accept your fate, sobbing silently to yourself.

On the opposite side of the mirror, a group of scientists observe the interaction. They all have their clipboards out, noting down every action, movent, and emotion. A Handful of them watches in revulsion while the scene unfolds in front of them. Others treat it as any other experiment, having no sympathy for you. After all, they have no idea if you’re the worst person in existence or not.

There's one thing for certain. They’d be investigating the pregnancy of a human mother and a parasite having father.

Tagged

@fbiopenups , @athanasia-day , @leonskndy , @ineedrealfriends , @destinys-dreamer, @carlosluv3r, @connorsoddsock, @sl33paholics , @explosiongamora , @idiotuvu-blog , @tarcroach, @mikeywaysghost, @jinna-aka-ninja , @lovelysserafim, @jujupia , @lomaeuwu, @briefwinnerpersonaturtle , @sammy213ui , @stella-fleurets, @elliellielliesgirl

#yandere leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #Yandere leon #las plagas! leon #yandere themes #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil 4 #yandere resident evil

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belovedmusings · 6 months

Text

“You have to trust me.”

18+ Explicit Smut 🚫Minors DNI🚫

You and Satoru get into an argument before he heads off to face Sukuna. You worry for his safety since the incident of his sealing is still fresh in your mind, begging him to let the others help, but he insists he has to do it alone. Hot, emotional sex follows.

Relevant tags: AFAB reader w/minimal gendered language, reader with no defined characteristics for inclusivity and realism, angst, hurt/no comfort, before Ch 236, established relationship, unprotected sex, creampie, missionary/mating press, intentional baby making

Recommended songs to listen to while reading: Privilege (The Weeknd), lovely (Billie Eilish), Lo Vas Olvidar (Billie Eilish, ROSALIA)

A/N: I have a follow-up to this where he survives the fight so that you can have some comfort after this hurt. I’ll link it at the end :’) for now enjoy some angst.

Expand to read:

“Satoru, please,” your voice tapers off at the end, the ache in your heart stinging with its intensity. “Please, don’t do it alone. You can have help. Yuuta—”

“This isn’t his fight,” Satoru insists, “I don’t want to involve innocent kids in this if I can help it.”

“So you’re just gonna go off and get yourself killed instead?”

His brows furrow, eyes frozen on your face. His lips part in disbelief, and after a moment of being stunned, he laughs incredulously.

“Seriously?” He asks you, “Do you really think that lowly of me? You think I’m marching off to my death right now?! You think I’m some weak little twerp or something? That’s all I am to you?!”

As he raises his voice, you start to feel guilt rising up in your chest. You hadn’t meant to say it like that. Here he is, about to fight for the sake of the world and you’re belittling him and undermining his strength. You’re telling him you expect him to lose, even if that wasn’t your intention. You’re supposed to be his support pillar—he doesn’t just let anyone in.

The anger fizzles out of you like ice water on hot coals. Instantly, you feel cold.

“No, Satoru,” you shake your head, remorse bubbling up so violently tears spring to your eyes. This is the love of your life, the man who has been nothing but sweet, patient, and kind to you. Sure, back when things were normal, he used to tease and get on your nerves, he had to work a lot and his time was stretched thin as a result, but he always made time for you. He always thought of you, brought you your favorite treats from his missions, latched onto you when he came back because he missed you.

Apparently you started sobbing at some point while you thought about all of that, because the next thing you know, he’s wrapping his newly thickened arms around you and pulling you into his sturdy chest.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you,” his voice is subdued now, full of guilt. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice. It’s just that—”

“That’s not…” you sniffle, shaking your head as you try to find the strength to get a full sentence out in the midst of your break down. “I believe in you, Satoru, I do, I didn’t mean—didn’t mean to say that…”

He hugs you tighter, rubbing up and down your arm. You continue.

“I’m just so fucking scared, Satoru, I’m scared.”

More sobs wrack your body and he can only sigh heavily, trying to hold you as close to himself as he can.

“I don’t want to do this to you,” his voice is thin, like he’s trying hard to keep it even. “I hate that I can’t give you a normal, easy life with me.”

You huff, wrapping your arms around him. “That’s not…I wouldn’t trade what we have for the world, Satoru, for the world…”

“I just hate that this is causing you so much pain,” he replies. “I’m supposed to be taking it away, not making it worse. God, I really am the worst, aren’t I?”

You shake your head in disagreement, planting a kiss on his neck to protest his statement. His breath hitches, and the next moment, he’s raising your chin up with his index finger, ducking to connect your lips. You make a small noise in the back of your throat and kiss back, arms winding around his neck to draw him closer. You feel him hug your waist, and go willingly when he backs you up.

The backs of your legs meet the edge of his bed, the one that you’ve become so familiar with it’s more comfortable than your own at the place you rarely sleep anymore, and you realize that this might be the last chance you ever get to share it with him.

Another sob escapes you before you can stop it and you grab the collar of his shirt tightly, pulling him down with you. You fall onto the mattress, Satoru catching himself so he doesn’t crush you as he kisses you passionately.

You trail your palms down his chest, down his abdomen, over the tight black shirt he has on, then back up again just to feel him. Satoru is here right now, in your hands, on top of you—you need to cherish this while it lasts.

You break the kiss as your crying worsens, unable to stop lamenting the fact that you can’t freeze time in its place right now.

“Shh,” his sugary voice hushes you, “Shh, focus on me. I want this to feel good for you, okay? We can’t have you crying your way through it, silly, then you won’t remember a thing.”

You sniffle, trying to wipe at your eyes. “I don’t want to just r-remember you…I need you to be okay.”

“I am okay,” he says, pecking your brow bone sweetly. “I’m right here. Just feel me. Nothin’ else. Don’t even think right now, thinking’s not useful.”

You huff shakily, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his mouth go for your neck. He scrapes his teeth over your jugular to shock pleasure into your senses, successfully distracting some of the anguish right out of you.

“That’s it,” like this, his voice sounds almost like a purr, and you shiver, arms wrapping around his shoulders to grip at his back. He leaves a wet kiss where his teeth were and swipes his tongue over the spot, starting to suckle. You give him a soft noise in response, relishing in the fact that you know he’s leaving a mark on purpose. It’ll be there at least for a few days, or more if he really tries.

“Make it dark,” you breathe, “Give me as many as you can, please.”

“You don’t have to beg me,” he murmurs below your ear, sending heat pulsing downward. “I’ll give anything you want from me.”

You suck in a sharp breath. “Anything?”

At your eager question, he chuckles lowly, lifting himself up to meet your eyes. “Hmm. You have something specific in mind, don’t you?”

Your face heats up involuntarily, but the urgency of the situation has you forcing your bashfulness down. This might be the only time to ask. You had wanted to wait until the two of you were settled, maybe married if that’s what you agreed on, but now there might not be another moment. This could be it. And you know that if you don’t tell him what you want now and something happens, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.

With that thought, you take a deep breath and raise your hand to cup his face, brushing a few strands of his fringe away from his eyes.

“I want your baby, Satoru.”

You see the moment the words register in his brain. His eyes light up with something you’ve never seen before, and he smiles as if you just gave him the sweetest, most sincere compliment he’s ever heard.

“Yeah? A piece of me forever, huh?”

You nod, a grin tugging at your lips even as droplets continue to spill down your cheeks. “Yeah. Our love personified.”

He chuckles wetly and you think you see his eyes turn glossy, but he’s kissing you again before you can confirm it.

“It’s yours,” he says against your mouth. “All yours.”

You lose yourself in the long kiss that follows. All you can feel is him moving on top of you, tongue dancing with yours so intimately it would have the angels in the room blushing.

You raise your hips when he tugs at your pants, taking your underwear with them. He sits back on his haunches to slide them off your legs, eyes gentle as he gets between them and pushes his hands up underneath your shirt.

Sitting up quickly, you allow him to lift it off of you, discarding it behind himself. Now, you’re completely naked, but he’s still clothed.

“No fair,” you say, eyeing his shirt like it’s offensive, and he laughs.

“Say no more, say no more,” he replies, “Just lay down for me.”

Your stomach flutters with butterflies as you do as he tells you, looking up at him kneeling between your legs. You watch as he crosses his arms to peel his tight shirt off of his sculpted muscles, smooth, fair skin coming into view. He’d put a Greek god to shame, you think. He’s so tear-jerkingly beautiful it threatens madness in your mind.

“Like what you see?” He taunts mischievously, standing up to untie his pants and push those along with his boxers down his hips. His reddened erection springs free and you stare unabashedly at it, never having got used to the sight fully. He’s huge, both long and thick, all smooth skin except for a prominent vein on the underside. You used to joke with him early on in your relationship that it was the main reason for his cocky attitude, that you’d probably act the same way if you had a dick like that, and it always made him laugh. You love making him laugh. God, you love Satoru so much.

“Oh, you definitely like what you see now,” he snorts, climbing back onto the bed. “Gotta admit, it’s hot as hell to see you objectify me like that.”

“I wasn’t—”

“I’m nothing but a glorified sperm donor, mistress.”

You make an incredulous face. “What? I’m not—you don’t even—”

“Shh, I’m just teasin’,” he grins at you, leaning down to peck your lips. “I know you love me.”

You blow out a puff of air like a deflating balloon. “Satoru, I swear to god.”

He chuckles, shutting himself up by kissing you again. “That’s just how I show love.”

You chase his lips, hearing his words for the ‘I love you’ they truly are, threading your hands in his hair.

His big palms find your hips and he centers them for himself, lining up and grinding his stiff member against your wet core.

“Mmh,” you moan, moving with him, “Satoru…”

He sighs shakily, grabbing the crook of your knee to push it up, giving himself more room to move. His grinds become more forceful and it has you stuttering little gasps, nails digging into his back.

“Already scratchin’ me up?” He asks, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “But I haven’t even put it in yet.”

The laugh you reply with is half-assed, need distracting you, and you find his eyes. “What’s stopping you?”

“Oh? Someone’s impatient,” he chuckles, stamping a kiss to your nose. “All right, all right. Better give you what you want.”

He takes ahold of himself and lines up, breathing a heavy sigh as he sinks into you. As soon as he does, you make a noise in the back of your throat, hugging him closer to you. As he bottoms out, you can’t help but press more chaste kisses wherever you can on him—his cheek, his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. You just love him. You love the feeling of his body on top of yours, the warm weight unique to him, how he fills your arms up, tangible and strong. You breathe in deeply, the sweet musk of his skin filling your senses. It’s your favorite scent in the entire world.

He pulls back and rocks forward again slowly, taking care to get you used to his size. So much has happened lately that you haven’t been able to get intimate a lot, so you have to let him ease you back into it.

As he works you open on his cock slowly, you take to caressing the smooth skin of his back, eyes closed to revel in the sound of his heavy breaths, strained with the effort to control his movements so as not to hurt you. You love how solid he is under your palms. You could touch him forever. If he survives this fight, you swear that you’ll never let go of him again. You plead mentally with any deity that may hear you to protect Satoru.

You kiss the soft underside of his chin and hold him closer, holding onto that thought. Protect him. Keep him safe. Keep him alive. I love this man so much, just please don’t take him away from me.

He chooses that moment to start picking up the pace, the dull ache it gives you enough to thankfully keep you from spiraling further. You sigh, bending your knees further to give him more room. Your legs then wrap around him, ankles crossing at the base of his spine, and he responds by going faster. The room begins to fill with the sound of your bodies meeting over and over, his length molding you to his shape with every push of his hips into yours.

On a particularly hard thrust, you gasp, tightening around him, and it causes him to groan right after you. His voice is so sweet. It was one of the things that stood out to you about him when you had first met him—the way he always seemed to have perfect control over it. He speaks with ebbs and flows to contour the meanings of his words, to give them his special nuance that perfectly colors in his personality. He’s just so animated when he speaks. If he’s annoyed, you’ll hear it. If he’s playful, you’ll hear it. If he’s happy, you’ll hear it.

Right now, as he works through stuttered breaths and hitched moans, delivered exhales of your name weaved into declarations of his bliss, you hear the pleasure you’re giving him. That control starts to slip and words start tumbling from his lips, voice thin and shaky, a tone reserved just for you.

You turn your head to lay a kiss on his lips, landing on the corner of his mouth, but he understands what you need, sweeping you into a languid, passionate make out session as he rocks in and out of you. You hear him make a sort of wet noise before he doubles down on his efforts, pushing deep inside of you and starting to roll his body.

“Satoru,” you hiss in surprise, mouth falling open as his abdomen grinds against the sensitive bud above the place he’s buried inside of, heightening the goosebumps that break out on your skin. Your head falls back and he takes the opportunity to start making as many marks on your skin as he can with his mouth. Like this, you feel yourself getting close, and that has you remembering what comes after this.

He’s going to leave, and he might not come back.

This might be the last time you ever get to have him.

“I love you,” you say, just needing to get the words out, needing him to know. “You’re so important to me—thank you for everything, Satoru.”

His breath catches in his throat and he finds your gaze, reaching up to cup your jaw in his palm.

“Thank you for everything,” He replies sincerely. “Thank you for loving me. For dealing with all my bullshit and sticking by me.”

“Always,” you shake your head, eyes filling with new tears. You sniffle, feeling that choked desperation start seizing your chest again. “Always, Satoru.”

He smiles at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Those beautiful luminescent oceans only reflect the deep sadness the both of you feel, and to see it glaringly obvious in his gaze breaks your heart. He can’t fake his happiness this time, not even for you. He’s human too, and being here with you like this in what might be the last time threatens to undo him.

Satoru swallows thickly and concentrates on his movements to distract himself, forcing himself to focus on the noises you make as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. He wants this to last forever just like you do, but you both know he’s needed by more people than just you.

Your climax approaches and with it, your emotions swell up inside of you. You remember meeting him for the first time, you remember when he started pursuing you, how happy he was when you agreed to a date, how hard he’d tried to win you over yet how effortless he made it look. Every time you two shared a laugh, every time he was there while you cried, how he always managed to put a smile back on your face. How sweet of a man he is to his students, how proud you can tell he is whenever he talks about them, and how his eyes light up whenever he eats a treat he’s fond of. God, you just love him.

“Satoru,” you whimper, orgasm hitting you abruptly. “Oh god, I love you so much.”

He exhales forcefully as he feels it, managing a few sloppy thrusts before he’s cumming as well pushing as deep as he can go in effort to fulfill your earlier request.

As you start to come down, the fear and despair come back tenfold, overtaking you in a fit of sobs. He wraps his arms around you and buries his nose in your hair.

“I’ll win,” He whispers to you, “I will. I’ll come back and we’ll raise the little shit we just made together, okay? They’ll probably grow up like me but I hope they’re more like you, baby.”

You hiccup loudly as you cry harder, clinging to the image of a happy family with him for dear life.

“It’s gonna be okay. You have to trust me,” He insists, inhaling slowly. “I have to go now.”

You hold him tighter, squeezing your eyes shut to commit this to memory before he’s pulling away, lifting himself off of you and grabbing his clothes quickly.

He dresses in silence, your cries the only thing echoing around the room. All you can manage to do is put on one of his button-ups from the foot of his bed, wiping furiously at your eyes.

Too soon, he’s clothed again, and it’s time for him to go.

He walks over to you again and takes your chin gently in his hand, tilting it up so that your eyes connect. He smiles softly at you.

“You know that I love you, right?”

A deep ache seats into your chest. He’s said it in a million ways before but never in its original form, those simple, crater-heavy three words. You nod, sniffling as another wave of lament threatens to pull you under.

“I do,” you confirm, forcing it out in a strained voice. He nods to himself, leaning in and pressing his soft lips to your forehead.

You feel the moment that he uses his technique to flash himself out of the room, because his warm presence that naturally takes up a lot of space vanishes and leaves absolutely everything feeling cold and sterile.

You break down again, head falling into your hands.

Shoko had told you where everyone would be watching the fight take place. You want to be there, and you will go, but you need to be alone first.

You just hope with all of your might that you won’t be left alone with only a piece of him to succeed his legacy. You want him to be there too. You need him to be there.

You need him to be okay.

—-

A/N: i gave myself an ouchie on the heart while writing this. whoops. also wow is he gorgeous in that picture at the top?? anyways here’s the second part where he survives bc i should be gege instead so he’ll be okay :-)

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo headcanons #gojo imagine #gojo smut #gojo x reader

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tenswrld · 5 months

Text

true romance

popstar!haechan x upcomingartist!reader, angst, fluff

summary: haechan's the world's boyfriend — and yours too, i guess.

word count: 4.1k

listen to: true romance - pinkpantheress

a/n: first, sorry that its been so long...im trying to be better about writing but inspiration comes and goes,,i hope you will indulge in whatever this is!!! everytime i hear this song my mind goes to haechan for some reason sooo yeah >_< i have lots of drafts its just a matter of when or if i finish them LOL love yall tho & enjoy

•°. *࿐

tell me, do you view me the same or do you call me a stranger?

"leave a bit after me so no one sees."

haechan is popular — without a doubt one of the most popular artists of your time. everyone either wants to be him or be with him, to which you completely understand. everything about him screams someone who was born to be on a stage, stealing hearts and whatnot. with such a bright personality, it was almost impossible to not like him.

you've had the privilege of getting to watch haechan grow from singing songs he wrote in his bedroom on youtube to him performing them in sold out shows. you're a fan, of course, but somewhere along the way — with crazy luck — you've wiggled your way into his life and into his heart. the two of you were music artists wishing on every star for some kind of breakthrough to the industry (take a guess on who got it). naturally, it brought you together. you were there when haechan reached 5,000 subscribers, and you were still there when he was selling out shows to 50,000 people. you've stuck by his side for so long that you're sure that its where you fit best.

in the moment, however, you're not so sure anymore.

"leave a bit after me so no one sees."

the small smile on your face slowly disappears at haechan's words and hurt quickly settles into your chest. "...why? what would be so bad about that?"

haechan seems unable to grasp how upset you are at his words. he shakes his head with a small laugh. "it's not like that, y/n. but a scandal at this time wouldn't be good."

"a scandal?" you scoff slightly. "since when have you ever cared about that?"

he sighs and runs a hand through his hair that's still slightly wet from his post-performance sweat. "i just don't want to take any risks right now. especially since my album is coming out soon. you understand, right?"

"i fly all the way out here to see you, and you don't want to be seen with me?" you say with a trembling lip and a weak voice. you're hurt and you're angry, but can't seem to keep your tears at bay.

"i didn't say that."

"you might as well have," you spit back at him.

"let's talk about this later, okay? trust me, it would be a lot worse for you than it would for me." haechan picks up his bag and swings it over his shoulder, making his way towards the backstage exit door.

frozen in place overwhelmed with emotion, you watch your boyfriend open the door. you think he's had a change of heart when he pauses at the door and turns back to you, but somehow he's managed to hurt you even more.

"maybe you should take these too," he says, placing the bouquet you made him back into your hold. the smell of roses and sunflowers taking over your senses as more tears well up in your eyes. you hope the flowers hide them from haechan's gaze. though, you're not so sure he'd notice anyway, as he'd already let the door close and left you behind.

•°. *࿐

'cause, baby, i don't care about the fame

people talk. as an upcoming music artist, you're aware that people talk. as the (hidden) girlfriend of a global superstar, you're more than aware that people love to talk about anything and everything that doesn't concern them.

you and haechan aren't on the same level of fame — not that it matters to you. it never mattered to you, really. even as haechan grew and grew and you remained with your significantly smaller (but still decent) following, fame was never your strongest desire.

yet, now, you're wondering that maybe if you were just a bit more famous, more popular, more well known, then you wouldn't feel as far away from haechan as you do right now. even as he sits beside you on the king bed of the luxury suite he booked for this stop of his tour, you feel further away from him then ever.

"i mean, what would people say about us, y/n? about you?"

"you keep saying that, hyuck, but you're not explaining it to me," you say, growing frustrated with him. "why is it just about me?"

he purses his lips before averting his gaze to the floor. "they'll say nasty stuff about you — that you're using me for fame, or money, or something like that."

you shake your head. "but you and i both know that's not true. we've been together for how many years now? their words shouldn't matter." you take hold of his hand and rub your thumb against his knuckles. "you could have nothing and i'd still be here."

"people don't know that," he scoffs. "they'll assume the worst about you."

maybe he's right — you're sure they will assume the worst about you regardless of your long, deep history with haechan. would he start to believe them? you think it, but you don’t ask — too afraid of the answer you might receive.

"what are you so afraid of?" you ask him softly, begging him with your mind for him to look at you.

but he doesn't, his eyes stayed trained on the ground and he can only weakly squeeze your hand that holds onto his own.

"i don't know."

•°. *࿐

tell me, why i don't play about you

every song is about you

haechan finally has a short break in between the legs of his tour and he chooses to spend every waking moment of it with you.

things between the two of you have felt rocky for a while. it makes haechan ashamed to say it, but he's been so focused on tour and his new album that he's pushed everything else to the side. he's a perfectionist and he feels like he's barely made it — he wants everything to work out perfectly and is committed to making sure that happens. he's not sure how long he's been brushing off anything non-career related, but he misses you — even if you're with him.

he flys the two of you out to a small, quaint place in kyoto where he finally gets to enjoy some peace and quiet in his life. he chooses to turn off his phone, not too keen with the idea of his manager berating him about all his responsibilities he'll have to tend to when he gets back. he's on vacation and he's here with you: the one person who's been with him through every up and down.

you're laying in his arms and haechan misses you to the point where it hurts — when was the last time he laid with you like this? the revelation urges him to pull you closer, placing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you lay on his chest. he sighs into your hair, breathing all of you in. it's silent, for the most part, until you ask a question that rattles haechan's being.

"why do you not sing about me?" you ask it so softly that haechan almost misses it.

"what? what are you talking about?" he's genuinely confused as to what you mean. who do you think he sings about?

"i know a handful of your old old songs are about me, but you don't perform those anymore," you murmur into his chest. "ah, don't mind me, i'm just talking."

you sound embarrassed and defeated and haechan wants to cry. did you really not know? how long has he been pushing you away?

"y/n, every single song i write is about you," haechan professes. "i couldn't write about anyone else if i tried."

his words shock you, even if they shouldn't. you tilt your head up to look up at him and he looks down at you with the softest gaze.

"not that i ever would, anyway," he continues, a sad smile painting his face.

"you mean it?" you whisper to him, wanting so badly to believe him.

when haechan's resolve breaks and his eyes glaze over, you know he means it. his hold on you tightens with one hand and the other comes up to caress your cheek, swiping a tear you didn't even know had fallen.

"of course," he croaks. "you're my muse, y/n. you."

this time, you're wiping his tears away as he cries and cries into your palms. you shift the two of you so that he lies in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face buried into your torso, your hands running through his hair. he's apologizing over and over and doesn't say why, but you know why. you regret ever doubting haechan's love for you — even if he was to blame.

but, just as you're certain you love him more than anything, you know that haechan loves you back all the same.

"it's always been you, y/n."

•°. *࿐

and everybody’s shouting out your name

“you look too handsome to be pouting like that, you know,” you tease lightly, approaching haechan to adjust his tie fondly.

he can’t help but smile at you as you do so, his hands easily finding their place around your waist, tugging you close. “if you tell me to stay, i will.”

you sigh and place your hands upon his chest, allowing you to push yourself up to place a soft kiss on his lips. his lips trail after yours once you pull away and he pouts at you again, eyes begging for another kiss but you push him back ever so slightly.

“you can’t miss this, hyuck, you know that. this could be really big for you!” you beam, swiping a bit of your lip gloss off of his lips. “some important people might be there.”

“but you won’t be there,” he whines. “what’s the point?”

you roll your eyes playfully. “you’ll be fine. now go, your manager has been waiting.” haechan sighs and leans down to place one more kiss on your lips.

you pull away before he can get carried away. “go! and put a good word in for me with taeyong, yeah?”

haechan rolls his eyes but smiles at you, pecking you on the cheek as he bids you farewell. “no promises.”

ੈ♡˳

it’s barely been over an hour and haechan wants to leave.

normally he’s able to tolerate these sorts of things — the bright lights, loud music, snobby people all trying to one up each other. he can get by and chat with anyone as if he’s known them for years. typically, events like these breeze by for haechan. why was he hating every second of it?

it’s lee taeyong’s end of year celebration party. of course, as his junior, haechan was invited. he’s grateful that he’s made friends with lots of other artists under his company, otherwise haechan would have been long gone within the first 45 minutes of arriving. but, haechan stays, mostly because he admires taeyong and does, in fact, bring up you and your songs — which, to his surprise, taeyong says he knows you and enjoys your music.

haechan isn’t given the chance to talk more, unfortunately, due to an excited kim jungwoo who locks an arm around haechan’s shoulder and drags him away.

“ow — hyung! i was in the middle of a conversation!” haechan grits to jungwoo, lightly shoving his arm off of him.

“my bad, it looked like you needed saving,” jungwoo chuckles. “come on, everyone’s been looking for you.”

jungwoo leads haechan to a small circle of people to which haechan knows as his small circle of friends: mark, his company's beloved canadian rapper; johnny suh, one of seoul's most popular djs; and of course there's kim jungwoo, kim doyoung, and jeong jaehyun who make up dojaejung, korea's heartthrob boy group.

"yo, where have you been?" mark greets him excitedly, lightly slapping him on the shoulder playfully.

"what do you mean 'where have i been', i saw you yesterday, mark," haechan grumbles.

"woah, someone needs a drink," johnny chuckles. doyoung is quick to hand haechan a glass of champagne.

haechan takes a large gulp, hopefully to ease whatever tension he feels in his shoulders. he's trying to enjoy the party, he really is, but all he wants to do is come home to you.

"everything okay?" doyoung asks him, concerned with the way haechan seems to be downing his drink.

the younger boy sighs. "yeah, i'm fine, sorry. just stressed out."

"oh, your album is coming out soon, right?" jungwoo remembers, nudging haechan with his elbow. "congratulations!"

the rest of the boys congratulate him and haechan can only half-heartedly reply despite being very grateful.

"i'm sure it'll be great," johnny reassures him.

"saw a lot of love songs on that track list," jungwoo teases. "got a special someone?"

haechan stills at his words and he's caught in an argument with himself. does he mention you? does he say no? is this how he wants people to find out you’re together? before he can even reply, though, jaehyun cuts in.

"speaking of, i heard that kim minjeong has had her eye on you for a while, haechan," jaehyun says. he raises his eyebrows at the younger boy and haechan gulps, the rest of his friends nudging him playfully as they coo at him.

"that's the model, right? and singer?" doyoung asks. "you should talk to her!"

haechan feels like he's going to be sick. maybe he's being dramatic — its not like they're shoving him into minjeong's face and asking him to profess his love. still, he feels like he's betraying you in some way and he realizes he has to go home.

"i can talk you up, probably," mark says. "we're normally at the studio at the same time."

“i heard that shin ryujin has been talking about you, too,” johnny pipes in. “honestly, who hasn’t been talking about you? i’m surprised you’ve done nothing about it.”

doyoung hums. “she seems like your type, donghyuck! i know some people over at —“

"no! no, don't — " haechan places his champagne glass onto a nearby table abruptly and sighs shakily. "just...don't. sorry, i-i don't feel well. i should go."

confused and concerned eyes watch haechan as he rushes towards the nearest exit. he doesn't bother saying goodbye to taeyong, but makes a mental note to send him an apologetic note tomorrow. haechan sees kim minjeong catch sight of him, and he's sure she's about to make an attempt to stop him to chat with the way she looks at him with a flirty gaze. haechan is quick to turn in the opposite direction and flees out of the nearest door.

haechan's manager comes out soon behind him, frenzied after trying to catch up to a frantic haechan. he doesn't get the chance to ask the latter if he's okay, too occupied with calling their driver upon haechan's request.

"home," he chokes out. he's out of breath and he feels dizzy — whether its from the champagne or from guilt, he's unsure.

"i want to go home."

•°. *࿐

i'm in the crowd, can you see my hand?

haechan has reached the encore of his final show of his tour, yet he still feels a pressure that he cannot explain.

its not from all of his seniors and friends that attended in support of him, he knows that. it's not from the different producers and music artists that flew to seoul for him, either. its a pressure that weighs on his chest that has made him feel unsatisfied with each stage, despite putting 150% effort in everything.

the crowd is going crazy for him after he delivers his final ment, and he takes a moment to soak in it all, in hopes it would give him some peace of mind.

then, his eyes finally spot you.

you, in the back row of some random section, sitting with your manager, with a banner with his name on it and a headband with bear ears perched on top of your head. he doesn't know if you can tell that he's staring right at you, but you start waving around the banner with excitement. haechan can't help but adore you even more than he already does.

time stops for him as he realizes that you're here. through thick and thin you've always been there — what has haechan ever done for you? he hasn't given you even a sliver of what you deserve, yet you've never left him. you stayed when he was a nobody, and even now when he's been terribly selfish, you let him be.

there are thousands of other hands waving at him, but haechan can only see yours.

"actually," haechan starts, quickly silencing the crowd. "there's one more thing i wanted to say."

from your seat, you feel your heartbeat quicken. haechan is still standing and looking into your direction and you know he sees you.

"there's someone very special to me that's here tonight."

your heart stops as you realize what he's doing and you can't help but glance at your manager in a panic. fans around you are murmuring in confusion since haechan had already given a shoutout to his guests.

"they've been by my side since i was writing silly love songs in my childhood bedroom," haechan says, a fond smile taking over his features. "i wrote those love songs about them then, and i still write every love song about them now."

the gasps and shocked noises at his confession fall upon deaf ears — to you, you and haechan are the only two people in the world.

"some of you may know her — she's an amazing music artist as well. far better than me, in my opinion, but maybe i'm a bit biased." haechan sees you laugh and can't help but chuckle too.

"my girlfriend, y/n, is here tonight, and i couldn't be more grateful. wave, y/n!" haechan calls out to you. surprisingly, the camera cuts to you as you wave shyly, hiding behind your haechan banner. even more surprising, the crowd cheers loudly for you.

"isn't she cute?" haechan asks. he's delighted when he sees and hears the rest of the stadium agree.

haechan finally feels that weight lift from off of his chest and he feels like he can breathe. he's happy — ecstatic, even — now that the world finally knows he's yours.

"y/n, you once asked me what i was afraid of, and i said i didn't know," haechan recalls gently. "but i know now." he purses his lips to prevent himself from choking up.

"you've always been so supportive of everything i've done. you've done so much for me and i'm not sure how i could ever repay you." haechan sucks in a sharp breath. "i'm afraid that i'll never truly deserve you."

the crowd coos and some fans in front of you turn around to look at you. you're a mess: tears are streaming down your face, and your hands are shaking. you hide pathetically behind your banner again as your manager wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder.

"i'm sorry for making you wait." haechan puts a hand over his heart, and you do the same. "i love you."

the camera cuts to you again and haechan glances at the monitor to get a better look at you as you mouth something back. haechan doesn't even attempt to conceal his smile or to hold back his tears. there's no use.

"i love you, too."

•°. *࿐

say what you want, this is true romance

“did you really have to mention that, hyuck?”

your boyfriend settles next to you on the couch, arm draping over your shoulder, as you scroll through his recent interview with vogue korea.

you pout at him and he's unable to stop the smile that takes over his face. he pinches your cheek and you quickly swat his hand away.

"what? what did i say?" he rests his chin on your shoulder to read the article for himself.

"i mean, does the public really have to know about me crying on our first date?" you complained. you continued scrolling and laughed as you read. "in what context would you ever have to tell vogue about our matching crayon shin-chan pajama pants?"

haechan laughs and presses a kiss to your shoulder. "honestly, i don't remember half of what i said during this interview. or any of what they asked me." he tugs you a little closer to him so that you're leaning against him, laying the two of you down. "all i know is that i'm pretty sure i started talking about you so much that they just called it a day."

"you're that obsessed with me, huh?" you teased.

haechan scoffs, wrapping both of his arms around you tightly. "obviously."

he watches you open instagram and sees you check the likes on your new post. he gasps dramatically, loosening one arm around you to snatch his phone from his pocket. "you posted?! where was my post notification?" he whines cutely.

he's a little too quick to find your account and he then quadruple clicks the picture to give it a like. "babe, why are your comments off? i was about to get really out of pocket," haechan whines again.

"okay, first, don't do that, please. save some of your dignity," you scold him. "but its because people are mean," you admit softly.

haechan's eyebrows furrow together and his tone stiffens. "who? what did they say?"

you sigh. "no one specific, don't worry. some people are just not too keen about us. your predictions were right, i guess," you attempt to joke, but it only makes haechan upset.

"here, come here," haechan beckons you up with him as he sits up. you're still under one of his arms, which he locks around your neck as he tugs you into his side. you're caught off guard, but lean into him anyway, arms wrapped around his torso. haechan lifts his phone up and takes selfies of the two of you, cheeks pressed together as you both smile uncontrollably.

you're both giggling like two high schoolers fresh into a relationship and you've never felt more happy and in love in your life. haechan presses wet kisses against your cheek before you eventually push his face away. still, he steals one more kiss from you — this time on your lips — and you let him.

"okay, i'm posting all of these," haechan declares casually, leaning back against the couch.

your eyes widen and you reach for his phone in an attempt to stop him, but haechan has already dodged you and raised his hand up. "hyuck, don't."

"why not? i'm in love with you, people just have to deal with it," he shrugs. "anyone who has a problem with us can get blocked."

you fall onto haechan's chest and he gladly wraps you up in his arms again. "you're stupid, but i love you."

"good, because i just posted it."

you peer up at haechan's phone and you see that he was true to his word. all of the selfies you just took piled into one singular post to which haechan captioned 'my heart'. you watch as he scrolls through the comments and blocks anyone with anything bad to say.

"wow, you weren't kidding," you say, amused.

"'course not. these people need to learn true romance." he leans down to kiss you one more time, this time letting the kiss linger. he pulls away but rests his forehead against yours, staring at you with eyes full of love. "i love you, too, by the way."

ੈ♡˳

haechan is popular — without a doubt, he's one of the most sought after guys in the industry. he's confident, charismatic, and he's bright. he's everyone's dream guy, it's no secret.

but, above all, he's yours, and you're his as well. he has devoted his heart and life to you and its not a secret to anyone anymore.

this time around, haechan wraps you up in his scarf to protect you from the cold before the two of you leave.

"i already have a scarf on, hyuck, just keep yours," you mumble from underneath the thick fabric.

haechan doesn't hear you (not just because he literally can't) because he's too focused on zipping up your jacket and tugging your beanie over your ears.

"okay," he says as he intertwines a hand in yours. he clutches the bouquet you made for him proudly in his other arm while he carries your bag and his own over his shoulder. "let's go home!"

its bittersweet as you realize how familiar yet different the situation is. you clutch haechan's hand tighter as he tugs you towards the backstage exit door, outside where the press and his fans are waiting.

he doesn't hide you anymore. no, instead haechan shows you off proudly and wholeheartedly as if it was what he was meant to do.

#bitch im back #nct 127 #nct dream #nct #nct fluff #nct angst #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck #lee haechan #donghyuck x reader #haechan fluff #haechan angst #donghyuck fluff #donghyuck angst #haechan oneshots #nct haechan

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seriouslysnape · 3 months

Text

Aftermath of a Full Moon

Remus Lupin x Sirius Black x James Potter x Fem! Reader Tags: Fluff. Remus recovering after a full moon. Word Count: 2.8k "You sure you feel alright?"

✮⋆˙✮⋆˙✮⋆˙✮

Remus' head had been pounding all day.

The sting from the frozen ice pack over his eyes was nothing compared to relentless pounding inside of his skull. It had been going on for hours now, creeping its way in as a mild headache early that morning to escalating to a full blown migraine attack as the day went on.

Now it was an hour past dinnertime, and Remus wasn't any better. Remus hadn't eaten a single thing that day, but with how horribly sick to his stomach he felt, he wasn't sure he would've been able to hold anything down.

This wasn't the worst migraine he'd ever experienced, but it was bad enough to knock him out of commission for the day. He had skipped all of his classes today, too exhausted and too miserable to even attempt to attend.

Remus was nauseated beyond belief. His eyes felt like they were borderline burning they were so hot. He was achy in his neck and shoulders -- and not to mention, the throbbing pain in his head hadn't let up in the slightest.

The most recent full moon had been a hard one. Some months were simply better than others, and this hadn't been the best...nor the worst.

Remus hated how inconsistent he felt after each full moon.

Some months he would bounce back in a day or so. Other months, the recovery could last for weeks -- and by the time he felt better, it was time for the full moon again.

This one was rough on him, and he was definitely feeling it.

He had been in bed all day. He was still wearing what he slept in the night before, and he was lying in nearly the same position that he was in when Sirius and James left for the day.

Remus hadn't seen a stitch of daylight that day. Both because there were a series of thunderstorms rolling through for the next couple days and because he had drawn the curtains, leaving himself in the dark for the entirety of the day.

Any kind of light or noise agitated him, and at this point, Remus was willing to do anything to make it stop. Remus had done nothing but lie still and listen to the rain and thunder. He knew it would pass, but that wasn't any kind of consolation when he was going through at in that moment.

Remus didn't have any clue as to what time it was. It felt like it had been days, but he knew that once James and Sirius returned, that would mean it was the end of the day.

You, James, and Sirius left early that morning when they caught on that Remus wasn't feeling well, and they hadn't been back since to give him some quiet and space. You were worried about him because it always broke your heart to see any of them not at their best.

Remus hadn't given any of you much of a proper interaction that day, which all three of you understood given how bad he was feeling. Still, Remus felt a tinge of guilt for being so distant.

As if on cue, he identified two heavy pairs of footsteps outside the door, which he knew meant the arrival of his two best friends.

Remus was glad his eyes were covered when they opened the door because the light beaming in might've pushed him over the edge.

"Hey mate," James spoke as quietly as he entered, knowing that any kind noise just made it worse. "Any better?"

Remus could only shake his head, swallowing hard and continuing to focus on his breathing.

"If you're still feeling sick," Sirius reached into the pocket of his robes to retrieve a small vial of a medium orange colored potion. "I snagged you a dose of this stuff. I think it's a hard swallow but will settle the nausea."

Sirius left it on the top of Remus' trunk that was on the floor at the foot of his bed, and Remus croaked out a thank you.

"Thanks, Pads. I'll get to it in a minute," He shuddered. "I'm scared to move."

Remus had finally found a position to lie in that was semi-tolerable. He hadn't moved an inch in hours, and he was beginning to lose sensation in his limbs.

Sirius and James left the lights off, using their wands to navigate the room.

You were always a bit nervous whenever Remus was having a hard time after a full moon. He was so sensitive in every aspect after a moon, you always worried you'd make it worse.

That's why you were extra quiet when you moved around and didn't say much -- and when you did speak, you were very soft spoken.

Remus hadn't heard you walk in because of this, and he was feeling bad for not paying you any attention for the last couple days...particularly today when he really went down for the count.

"Where's baby girl?" Remus asked, and your head perked up. "She in her dorm tonight?"

"No, she's here." James flashed you his movie star smile.

"Hi, Rem." You said softly, sticking close to Sirius and lingering around him.

"Hey pretty girl," He responded genuinely, but not even a ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "I didn't hear you come in."

You didn't say anything else, only listening to Sirius and James talk to Remus.

"We brought your assignments," James said, referring to what he had missed in class that day. "It's not that much. You'll have the weekend to do it."

"Yeah. And [Y/N] brought you some leftovers in case you get hungry." Sirius said.

You indeed were holding a wrapped plate of food from dinner, which you had forgotten about until Sirius mentioned it. You left it next to the potion for Remus to get when he wanted it.

"Thanks, bun. You didn't have to do that for me," He said, pressing the ice pack further down onto his eyes. "I'll get to it when I feel more settled."

"Drink that potion, mate." Sirius said. "Promise it'll work wonders."

"Why don't you take it to him, baby?" James suggested, and you silently obliged.

Remus heard your feet creep to the side of his bed, glass vial in your hand and uncorked. Remus reached his hand out, taking it into his grip when you placed it in his palm.

Remus raised his head just enough to gulp down the bitter potion, setting his head back down as soon as it was in his system. He handed the now empty vial back to you, giving your wrist an appreciative squeeze.

He noticed that you scurried away as soon as he dropped your hand, which only made his guilt of neglecting you worse.

"You're staying the night, yeah?" James asked you, referring to how you still had your school bag and shoes on.

You only nodded, setting your bag down gently next to Sirius' bed and unlacing your shoes to go with it. Sirius and James shared a look, both of them picking up on how you were acting.

And maybe, just maybe, you had a bit of a soft spot for Remus that was different from Sirius and James. Seeing Remus like this was hard on you.

And Remus knew he wasn't the most pleasant to be around after a bad full moon. He was irritable, short-tempered, and just overall not feeling well. And there had been a time or two where Remus had snapped at you or said something that hurt your feelings.

Remus always came around and had a conversation with you, apologizing and explaining that it wasn't your fault.

But all it took was one time for you to be pretty shut down when Remus was coming off a full moon.

They knew you were pretty reserved when Remus was like this, so they didn't think too much of it.

It was going to be a quiet night for everybody, since Remus was going to need the quiet and darkness to keep his head from exploding off of his shoulders.

The next hour or so went by, and the three of you were silent as you traversed through the room, choosing tasks that didn't require any noise or high energy.

James was stationed at his desk, using nothing more than his desk lamp to do his homework and work on some Quidditch things. Sirius was sitting on his bed with a deck of cards, working on some new trick he had learned from somewhere. You were laying on your stomach, flipping through a new Muggle novel that you had picked up from a friend.

Remus hadn't said a word, still lying flat with his eyes covered and head pounding. As the minutes passed, you couldn't stand to see him like this.

Most of the time, the best thing to do was to leave Remus alone and let it pass -- but it pained you to see him so pitiful. You closed your book, shifting to go to get off the bed. Sirius caught your gaze on Remus and knew what you were headed to do.

"Hey, pup." Sirius whispered, grabbing your ankle that was next to him to stop you from approaching him. "Moony's not feeling so good. Let's give him some more time, yeah?"

Remus heard Sirius, of course -- it was so quiet there was no way he couldn't. Remus couldn't deny you like that, not after he'd been so far the last couple of days.

"No, s'alright," Remus sat up very slowly, tossing the useless ice pack that was beginning to turn room temperature at the foot of his bed. "C'mere, bunny."

Your eyes looked to James, who only gave you a nod of approval. Still, you didn't move.

"I don't want to make it worse." You fiddled with your fingers, bending them nervously and hearing them pop.

"Not gonna make it worse, my love." He shifted to make room on his mattress, groaning at the aching in his muscles. "Come sit."

Sirius gave your backside a light tap, pushing you into motion. Your feet shuffled to Remus' bed, your body slowly crawling onto his mattress and snuggling next to him. He wrapped an arm around your waist, his hand resting on the outside of your thigh.

"You could never make it worse," He pressed a kiss to your temple, sighing as he held you close. "It was just a rough moon this time."

"Do you feel any better?" You asked.

Truthfully, he didn't. The potion had settled his nausea, but for the most part he still felt like he had all day. But he could tell you were worried, and he didn't see any sense in worrying you further.

"A little bit," He said. "I think I'll drink a dose of Sleeping Draught tonight and be good as new tomorrow."

Sirius was still shuffling his deck of cards, giving you a reassuring smile.

"He's gonna be just fine," He said. "Promise."

Remus nodded in agreement, chuckling when you snuggled closer to him. In a way, he felt better having you close to him. He always loved having you around, and knowing that you weren't sore with him made him feel better.

"I'm sorry I haven't seen you much this week," He apologized, kissing the crown of your head when you rested your head on his shoulder. "I owe you one, hm?"

"No, it's okay. I knew you weren't feeling well." You said.

"You're so patient," Remus laughed. "I don't know how you put up with us sometimes."

Sirius and James both laughed at that because they agreed...and found it ironic considering Remus was the least difficult of the three.

"Can I sleep with Rem tonight?" You asked James, since it was technically his turn to have you tonight.

Remus' heart did a joyful leap, but he looked at James for a response. It wasn't often that there was a change in the rotation, but there were special occasions where you wanted to switch it up -- and most of the time, it wasn't an issue.

"Up to you, mate. I don't mind." He grinned.

Remus looked at you, smiling at your eyes that were all lit up at getting to spend time with him.

"Sure, doll. How about you get one of your blankets from your dorm so you don't get cold tonight?"

The suggestion hung in the air for only a moment, a gentle reminder of the care that was woven into the fabric of your relationship. You were up on your feet in seconds, giddy with excitement as you rushed out of the room to make the journey to your dorm to return with what you would need for the night.

The three of them laughed at your eagerness, taking that as a sign to start winding down for an early night in.

Remus knew he needed to eat something before bed, since he would feel sluggish in the morning if he didn't. Remus reached over the end of his bed, taking his plate of leftovers into his lap.

"You sure you feel alright?" Sirius asked, reaching into his trunk to toss Remus a plastic utensil.

Remus caught it, and started taking small bites and chewing slowly.

"As good as I'm gonna feel tonight," He sighed. "A night of sleep should set me straight."

Remus hadn't realized how hungry he was, which wasn't surprising considering he hadn't eaten all day and had been preoccupied trying to get some relief.

"Do you need anything else?" James asked.

"Nah. I'm alright," Remus replied. "Just don't tell her I'm still feeling bad."

They understood what he meant. Remus never wanted to cause any trouble, and he definitely didn't want anyone making a fuss over him. If he needed help, he would ask.

Remus did his best on eating, clearing about half of what you had brought him from The Great Hall. It wasn't much, but it was enough to provide him some fuel.

Remus showered too, which was the most he had done all day. He stood under the stream of hot water, hoping it would melt away some of the tension and pounding in his head. It didn't do much other than refresh him a bit, but even that was a nice feeling to have.

Remus re-entered the dorm with a fresh T-shirt and sweats, laughing when he saw you were already snuggled and settled in his bed, curled up with your book to get a few more pages in before it was time to go to bed. Sirius and James were also in their beds, finishing up their tasks for the night.

"You always know how to make yourself at home, huh?" He teased.

You looked up from your book, a small smile on your face.

"I guess it's a habit now." You closed the cover and set it aside.

He moved towards his trunk, opening it and retrieving a vial of Sleeping Draught. He swallowed the dark blue potion with ease, hoping it would kick in quickly.

He moved towards the bed, the exhaustion from the day still evident in his movements. But there was a spark in his eyes now, a spark that hadn't been there before. He climbed into the bed next to you, his body sinking into the familiar comfort of his mattress.

His hair was still damp from the shower, the droplets of water catching the faint light in the room. He looked at you, his eyes reflecting a quiet kind of happiness.

He kissed your cheek when he pulled you close, whispering in your ear as you got settled.

"Did you tell Siri and James goodnight?" He asked, and you nodded.

"She did. With plenty of sympathy kisses for little Jamesie." Sirius laughed, and James launched a pillow at his face.

Sirius shrieked and continued to cackle and poke fun at James who really wasn't hurt in the slightest.

"You're fine, baby. Enjoy being with Moony tonight," James smiled genuinely. "I'll have you tomorrow."

You weren't listening much to their conversation. You were more focused on Remus, watching his eyelashes flutter as he kept his eyes closed to keep his head from pounding worse. He could feel himself growing sleepy, and he hoped that sleep would surely take him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You asked, eyes wide and full of concern.

Remus had been asked that question for what felt like a million times that day -- but he appreciated the care.

"Yeah, my love." He kissed your forehead. "I am."

And Remus would be okay with a little more time. He would wake up the next morning with a clear and pain-free head, with nothing more than some mild fatigue and a desperation to see something other than the walls of the dormitory.

And over the next few days, he would spend his time making it up to you -- spending every spare moment he had with you and giving you as much affection as he could spare.

Remus would be alright. With you, he always would be.

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