#look we should just wait and see what happens next week because WE DON’T KNOW
Text
The Bucket List || CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader
Summary: Life changes in the blink of an eye with a diagnosis and you are forced to face your mortality with the help of Charles
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, implied smut, grief, implied character death.
WC: 5.8k
Story || Death Scene || Two Years Later || Bucket Moments || Five Years Later
The winter break was meant to be a time for Charles to relax but one simple act had put an end to those plans. It had been a little joke between lovers while you were getting dressed. Charles had seen an opportunity and taken it, cradling the swell of your breast in his palm and giving it a quick squeeze.
“Honk, honk!”
You gasped at the sudden pain that flared and rubbed at the aching area. Charles was immediately sorry, apologising profusely as he brushed your hand aside and massaged it gently for you.
“It’s ok, Cha, this one’s been a bit tender lately.”
“What do you mean?” His concern was palpable and his hand flattened so the palm was pressing into your flesh. You couldn’t hide the wince at the spot he touched and he couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes.
“What?!” You stepped away and grabbed your breast, almost immediately feeling what he felt as your heart began to hammer hard in your chest. “It’s probably nothing, boobs are lumpy all the time.”
“Yeah…” he murmured distractedly. “We should probably check just to be sure. Right?”
You tried to nod casually but it was too hurried. “I mean, just to be sure.”
Everything moved quickly after that. The exhaustion was no longer jet lag. The low red blood count was no longer anaemia. The lump was no longer just fatty tissue.
“What happens now?”
You looked at your boyfriend, but his eyes were fixed on the doctor who had been explaining the test results. Charles had done all of the talking while you sat in a state of shock. You didn’t even feel like you were inside your own body but floating somewhere in the room and watching from outside.
“We could take a biopsy to be certain but the tests so far are quite conclusive and I wouldn’t recommend waiting. We could fit you in to remove the tumour in the next couple of days and have you home for Christmas.”
You knew this already. He had spoken about removing the lump. You couldn’t bring yourself to call it a tumour because, benign or malignant, it made it too real. Removing the lump was the extreme simplification of what he really meant. Mastectomy. Double to be precise. The risk was too great to leave the other breast untreated, apparently.
“We’ll take the surgery as soon as possible.”
You blinked at Charles, waiting to see if he would even look in your direction before making such a decision but his chin was resting on the tip of his steepled fingers. He leaned forwards, digging his elbows into his knees as he always did when he was deep in thought.
“No,” you rasped. “I can’t do it.”
“Yes, you can,” Charles replied without even looking at you. He had hardly looked your way since the first appointment a week ago.
“I’ll give you two some time to talk,” Doctor Hall said softly as he rose from his chair and left the room, the click of the door closing too loud in the heavy silence.
“It’s my body, Charles,” you whispered, your throat too hoarse to manage anything louder.
“I know that, but this is your life we are talking about.”
“We don’t even know for certain that it’s…that it’s…”
“It’s cancer,” he said with a sigh, “not saying it doesn’t change the test results.”
Your eyes burned, your tear ducts working overtime all week. The harsh lines on Charles’ face softened as he saw them well on your waterline before spilling over. Pulling you into his lap, he cradled your head to his chest as you ruined yet another one of his shirts with your makeup and tears.
“Mon amour, we will get through this but we have to trust the doctors.”
“I won’t have boobs,” you whispered as your voice broke.
Charles curled his finger under your chin and tipped it back as he searched your eyes for the answer. He found what he was looking for and dropped his forehead to yours with a shake of his head. “You will still be the most beautiful woman in the world. And I need you in the world, mon amour, do you understand that? I need you to fight this.”
A few days turned out to be just one after the oncology department received a large, anonymous donation. The private room in the hospital was filled with bouquets from friends and family, their floral scents were almost able to erase the tart smell of bleach. You still felt numb to the entire experience and Charles watched on with concern as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror.
Your reflection was the same, yet it wasn’t. Permanent marker pen lined the skin that would soon be permanently marred. The outlines accentuated what would be taken from you and you turned to your side profile, trying to imagine waking up without the pieces of your body Charles had loved.
“The surgeon said there are options, if it’s really that important to you,” Charles said as he pushed off the doorway he had leaned against and walked into the room. “But you don’t have to think about that now.”
You let him drape the surgical gown over your arms and they fell limp at your side while he tied the bows to keep your modesty. “Come and lay down with me,” he murmured as he took your hand and led you to the bed. You hadn’t been sleeping well, neither of you had.
It was narrow but Charles made space for you to lay in his arms with his chest pressed to your back. Monaco was alive outside the window you faced but the sounds didn’t reach you. Instead of watching the cars on their journeys you turned your eyes up to the cloudless sky and spotted the gulls that danced in the salt air.
“I lo-.”
Charles’ chest shuddered with the breath he took before he kissed your temple and whispered, “Don’t.”
“I need to tell you.”
“We promised, not until you wake up.”
“But what if I-”
“Don’t,” Charles begged, a wet drop falling into your hair. “Please.”
A knock sounded at the door but you kept your eyes firmly only the white feathers of the bird that landed on your windowsill outside. Charles pressed his lips to your temple once more before releasing you from his hold and climbing off the bed.
“I’ll be right there when you wake up, mon amour.”
“I…I’ll see you soon.”
He smiled sadly as you caught yourself from saying what you wanted to say, that sad smile remaining while your bed was wheeled away. You craned your neck as you were taken further down the hall, wanting to memorise the way he looked in case it was the last time you had the chance.
As promised, you woke up bleary eyed and groggy to those gold and green eyes, his hands holding yours tenderly as he sat beside your bed.
“Hi, beautiful,” he greeted as his smile brightened your day. It was a true smile, one you hadn’t seen for over a week, one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and revealed the dimples in his cheeks. “I love you.”
You felt drunk as the anaesthesia still circulated your body and you were sure you slurred the words you had been banned from telling him before. “I love you.”
You dozed in and out of consciousness until the pain relief began to wear off and breathing itself hurt. The bandages across your chest irritated your skin and the stitches pulled with every little movement. Charles noticed it all.
“I’ll see if they can give you anything for the pain.”
You caught his hand before he could leave and winced as the IV line in your hand tugged uncomfortably. “I’m hungry.”
Charles chuckled, knowing you would be after eating nothing before the surgery, and cradled your cheek gently. “Maman’s on her way with your favourites. I’ll be right back, baby.”
Charles arrived back with a large bag of hot dishes from your favourite restaurants around the city and the promise that the nurse would bring some medicine around soon.
“We’ll have someone come and move you up to the ward shortly,” the kind nurse said after she had given you another dose of pain relief. “You’ll be able to see your visitors there.”
You thanked her since you knew your parents would have been waiting with Pascale, Arthur and Lorenzo too. Charles had been keeping them updated since you woke up and his phone was constantly going off with notifications from your friends.
“How are you feeling?”
You placed your fork down into the empty bowl and Charles whisked it off your lap and tidied up the rubbish with the need to keep himself busy. “I don’t know,” you admitted as your head began to clear from the anaesthesia. “Two weeks ago we were partying in Baku and now we’re here. I still don’t know how this even happened. What if they made a mistake? This was all done so quickly.”
Charles carefully tucked the sheet back around your body after helping you to lie back down. “Mon amour, this is one of the best hospitals, they wouldn’t have done this unless it was the right decision for your health.”
“I know, I know. I just don’t know how to feel anything right now, except confusion.” You took his hand as he sat back into the chair beside your bed and kissed his knuckles. “How do you feel?”
“Me?” His brows pinched together as if he hadn’t been thinking for himself, and he really hadn’t. All of his thoughts and feelings had been focused on you. “I’m relieved, I suppose. You are here, I get to kiss you and hold your hand. That is good.”
You smiled at the hope in his voice. “I don’t remember a kiss.”
“Ah,” he hummed with a nod as he leaned closer until his lips were so close you could feel the heat of them as he whispered, “This one.”
You were warned that day two would be the hardest. The hard drugs had worn off and what you were supplied with took away the dull throbbing ache when you were stationary but did nothing to prevent the sharp pain of moving.
Charles had just lifted you back into bed after helping you go to the bathroom when the surgeon arrived with a forlorn look on his face. Immediately you felt the air leave the room.
Doctor Hall started with the good news, that the surgery went as planned with minimal bleeding from the tissue removal, but then there was a pause. Your fingers tightened around Charles hand as the doctor flipped the piece of paper on his clipboard over and clicked the end of his pen.
“When we began the removal of the tumour we found that the shape wasn’t exactly as we expected from the ultrasound.” He drew an oval shape on the paper before adding webs spindling off in all directions and pointing to them. “We removed as many of the tentacles as we could find but they are invasive and so we would like to start chemotherapy as soon as you have recovered from the operation.”
Charles' knee shook the bed as it bounced nervously. “Chemo?”
“Does this mean it is definitely c-cancer?” you stumbled over the word as you said it aloud for the first time.
The doctor nodded. “We were quite sure before but pathology confirmed it with the sample we sent.”
“What about Christmas?” you asked. “Can I still go home for Christmas?”
The doctor nodded again and you exhaled in relief. Christmas had been organised to be held at your house for months and it would give you a chance to do something normal after your life had been thrown off the rails. You needed this Christmas.
“We will schedule you in for after New Years, but you wouldn’t want to delay it much further than that.”
“Thank you,” Charles choked out for the both of you as you fell silent and he left. “What are you thinking so hard about, beautiful?”
“The menu. It needs to be special. And I want to invite everyone.”
“What, slow down, what are you talking about?”
“Christmas, Cha, I need to start planning now.”
Charles knew you were deflecting, pouring yourself into a future task so you didn’t have to think about the present. You had already gone through enough, so he bit his tongue and took a second to clear the thoughts he wanted to voice. Instead, he asked, “who, exactly, is everyone?”
“Slow down, you’re meant to be relaxing,” Charles warned as you rushed around the house for a last minute tidy up. “Don’t hurt yourself, baby, let me help.”
“I love you, but please leave this to me. I know where everything is.”
“I do too,” he exclaimed, falling silent when you picked up a remote that had stopped working. You had asked him to get the batteries for it the night before, but he hadn’t been able to find them.
“Second drawer in the kitchen,” you said as you tossed it to him and folded the blanket you snuggled under with him every night. “But you knew that right.”
He sent you a charming smile as he backed out of the room. “Of course, honey.”
You chuckled at his retreating figure. “Thought so.”
You had just finished lighting the scented candles around the house when the front door opened and Arthur breezed into the living room.
“Merry Christmas, ma chére. Shouldn’t you have your feet up?” he tutted as he kissed your cheeks, careful not to hug you since your chest still hurt.
“Merry Christmas, Tuthur.” His smile lifted at the old nickname and it only grew as you said, “You know how well your brother cooks. Be glad I don’t have my feet up.”
Everyone arrived steadily after Arthur and as the night grew colder every seat in the living room was taken by your guests. You could have imagined it being just like every other family Christmas as you sat on Charles lap and listened to Joris recount how he had spent the winter break so far.
You could have imagined it being just like every other family Christmas, but it wasn’t.
You were self-conscious in a way you never were before. The dresses you had loved so much were now something you couldn’t bear to wear as it accentuated the changes in your body. You had taken one shopping trip with Pascale so you could buy some presents but by the time you had got home there was a photo circulating the F1 WAG pages. The comments had nearly made you sick as they compared your flat chest to that of a young boy, or joked that the championship wasn’t the only thing that was lost at the end of the season.
You knew it was only a matter of time before the truth came out but you doubted they would feel any remorse, anyone who could say such things through a keyboard didn’t have the emotional capacity to feel guilt.
When midnight came and went, so too did the guests. Tipsy and jolly, they said their goodbyes and well wishes until the house fell quiet except for the music playing softly from the speakers. Charles pulled you into his arms and gently rocked you side to side as you laid your head on his chest. “Merry Christmas, mon amour. I didn’t know what to get you this year, so I was absolutely selfish and got this.”
Charles stepped out of your embrace as he dropped to one knee and held a ring out. Similarly designed to his mother’s, the ring was timeless and elegant with a large princess cut diamond. “Will you make me the happiest man and marry me?”
You had waited years for the question but the answer that fell from your lips went against every fibre of your being. Your hands covered your mouth but there was no silencing the words as they hung in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
Confusion slapped Charles’ pink cheeks and he swallowed twice before his voice could work again. “Why not?”
“You know why,” you whispered.
“No, I don’t.”
“Because I’m sick, and I don’t want to make plans if I’m not going to be there to…I just don’t think now is the right time.” You took the ring from his fingers and sighed with longing. “It’s beautiful, Char.”
“Hold on to it for me,” he said as he stood up and closed your hand around it. “When you beat this, I’ll be waiting, mon amour, however long it takes. I’ll wait for you.”
You held the ring tight as you closed the distance and put all the words and emotion you couldn’t articulate into a kiss, deepening it until you were breathless and needy. “Come to bed,” you breathed against his lips.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He looked pained by the very idea, or maybe it was the weeks of celibacy after your surgery.
Lacing your fingers together, you took a step towards the stairs and gently tugged him to follow. “You could never hurt me.”
The moment had been weeks in the making as the chemotherapy took its toll on you. For days after the treatment you had been ill and Charles had been at your side with a bowl ready for when you emptied the contents of your stomach. Then your muscles ached and you could barely hold your own weight up to walk. Just when you thought the worst had come to pass you felt the first strands come loose.
“Hello, my dear,” Pascale answered your call, only to be met with a hiccup. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
“M-my hair,” you stammered as you looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Charles had been out shopping but you saw his face appear behind you as you turned to show him what filled your gripped fist. “It’s my hair.”
“I’ll be over shortly, just let me lock up the shop,” Pascale soothed before ending the call.
“I just brushed it,” you hiccuped as you touched your hair again, more of it floating to the tile floor. “It won’t stop.”
“I know, baby,” he murmured as he took your hand and brushed the hair from your palm. “Maman will know what to do. We’ll get through this like we have everything else, together.”
Pascale promised she could have a wig made for you if you wanted one but it was already late in the evening and you knew she was exhausted from working all day. You did however accept her offer to shave the rest of your head so at least the patches of missing hair didn’t stand out as much. Charles had sat with you in the bathroom and held your hand the entire time before asking his mother to shave his next.
“No, I love your hair,” you argued as he pulled his shirt over his head to save it from getting covered in the short dark strands.
“I told you we are doing this together,” he replied as he kissed your knuckles and nodded to his mum to proceed.
It took a while to get used to the smooth feel of skin on your head but you came to prefer it to the wig that Pascale crafted, somehow finding hair that was almost the exact same shade and texture to your natural hair. The moment you got home from any outing you would pull the wig off with a grateful moan just as you used to do with your bra.
“Are you going to be alright? Maman said she can come and stay with you.” Charles sat on his suitcase so he could zip it closed before looking up to where you sat in bed with a book on your lap. “I don’t like leaving you here alone.”
“I’ll be fine,” you reassured him. “It’s only for two nights.”
His team had let him get away with having one extra night at home before going to Bahrain for the 2024 pre-season testing, but it was still too long away from you in his eyes. You would have been with him but you were due some follow up tests.
“You’ll be so busy you won’t even have time to miss me,” you teased, spurring him to climb onto the bed and cage you beneath him.
“I miss you every second we are apart.”
You recognised the number calling your cell phone because you still had nightmares from the last time they rang. A pit of dread was already opening in your gut as you hovered your finger over the green button. You debated not answering the call but if you didn’t answer it then he would try Charles’ number next - and he needed to focus on driving.
You wished you never answered the call.
You had been quiet the entire drive from the airport to the hotel Charles was staying at. He wasn’t one to push you to talk before you were ready but he was certainly worried when he reached across the gearbox and placed his hand on your lap. He spared a glance to you as he gently squeezed your thigh but still you didn’t react, or take his hand, or even blink.
You didn’t remember the walk from the car to the hotel room. You were busy thinking about how you were going to break Charles’ heart, something you had never imagined you would have a hand in. You never wanted to hurt him, you loved him more than life itself, a life that was going to be shorter than you had once thought.
Charles stood quietly in the doorway to the bedroom, your suitcase still in his hand. He watched as you pulled your wig off for the first time since leaving Monaco and listened as you sighed heavily. His feet only carried him closer when you pulled a piece of paper from your pocket and held it out silently.
“What’s this?” Charles asked as he unfolded the note you had written on the plane. You had almost 10 hours to think of everything you wanted to do while you could and his eyes scanned over the list. “Baby, what is this?”
“It’s my bucket list.”
“A bucket list?”
“It’s a list of what I want to do before I die.”
“I know what a bucket list is!” He took a breath and ran his hand over the fuzz that had grown back on his scalp before lowering his voice as he shook the paper. “Why am I holding yours?”
His green eyes blurred with tears as you bit your lip and looked at your feet. He was already shaking his head in denial, wet droplets soaking into the list.
“My results came back…”
“Non, non, baby, non…”
“I’m sorry, Charles,” you choked as he fell to his knees and let the paper fall to the floor. His arms encircled your hips and you cradled the back of his head to your stomach as he cried against you. You finally let your own tears fall, the tears you had held back since you received the news. “I’m so sorry.”
Charles missed testing the next morning as he held you in his arms. The tears had long run out but the sadness still remained. He had laid with you all night as close as your bodies would allow and together you had seen the sunrise over the desert. He had listened to you quietly recount the doctor’s words but most of it made no sense to him.
Metastasized. Stage four. Terminal. The information ruined him.
“How long?” he finally asked. He looked at the paper that was still on the bedroom floor before clearing his throat and trying again. “How long do we have?”
You didn’t know if answering him would help or not but he was waiting for an answer as you rolled over to face him. The last three months had taken a toll on him and dark circles rimmed his eyes and they no longer held the same brightness. They were only going to dim more at the news. “Six months, maybe a year.”
He was silent, but you knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard you. Emotions warred behind his eyes before he climbed out of the bed and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.
You hated the silence but the screaming was worse. The painful wail echoed around the room and you felt it shatter something deep in your chest, before something shattered in the bathroom.
Pulling your knees up to your chest, you held yourself together while Charles fell apart.
You weren’t sure how long he screamed at the universe, how many times he asked it why, what he had done to deserve to lose someone else he loved. You weren’t sure how long it took him to clean the blood from his fist and wash his face of the tears before he unlocked the door and slipped back into the bed.
“Whatever you want, mon amour,” he promised as he unclenched your hands and curled his body around yours. “Anything you want to do, we’ll do it. We’ll do it all together.”
You stood at the edge of the lookout and smiled at Charles as he took the photo, another one for the memory box you were making together. Charles kept his promise, taking you everywhere around the world with him to tick off the items on your bucket list.
You had watched him win his home race for the first time and gone to a couples cooking class.
You visited all the Disneyland Theme Parks you hadn’t been to before: the Tokyo one when he raced in Suzuka, the Chinese one when he raced in Shanghai and the Floridian one when he raced in Miami.
Charles had taken you to Iceland to camp under the northern lights and to Pamukkale in Turkey where the blue waters were meant to work miracles. It hadn’t cured the illness that ravaged your body but each activity you crossed off cured some of the sadness in your soul.
“It’s bigger than I imagined,” Charles commented as he looked up at Christ the Redeemer. “What size shoes do you think he wears?”
“Well you know what they say about big feet.”
Charles’ head fell back with a laugh. “You cannot say that about Jesus.”
You fluttered your eyelashes innocently as he stepped closer to take a photo of you together. “I was going to say he wears big socks, get your head out of the gutter.”
“Of course you were, mon amour.” Charles’ lips curled up in amusement and you relished the way his eyes crinkled before you rose onto your toes so you could kiss him before the smile faded.
The flash of his camera captured the moment and you reluctantly pulled away as the sun began to set on another day spent living. The days were getting tiresome, your energy flagging as the medication changed from treating the illness to managing the pain. You had read enough to know that time was running out.
“We should get going, don’t want to miss our flight to Vegas.”
“About that…” he trailed off as he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and placed it in your hand. “I made a list of my own.”
Marry the woman of my dreams.
“I can only do it with you by my side.”
—
Pascale had created a beautiful headpiece for your wedding but when it came time to leave you hadn’t been able to place it on your head. A year ago you had only dreamt of the day you married Charles and in all those imagined scenes you had your hair styled up like she had crafted on the wig with pearl pins and a delicate tiara. But a lot had changed in a year, you had changed.
“Oh, sweetheart, you look beautiful,” she said as she wiped her eyes. Your own mother was speechless as she pulled you into her arms and held you tight.
“I’m going to ruin my makeup if you two don’t stop crying.”
“Honey, let her go,” your dad said softly as he placed a hand on your mother’s shoulder. “It’s time.”
Your throat felt as if it were closing and for a second you held on tighter before you both opened your arms. “I love you,” you said to them all as you looked at the proud but sad smiles on their faces. “Thank you for making this possible, for both of us.”
Your father grabbed the wheelchair you had been using, the exhaustion sometimes too much for you to handle, but you shook your head. “I’m going to marry him on my own two feet.”
You knew Charles had a lot of help organising the wedding because there was no way he could have done it on his own. The entire paddock had come to a standstill at the end of Media Day and you found yourself walking down a makeshift aisle on the grid to the starting lights.
Hundreds of friends joined your families on the track and you had no doubt that Charles had flown them all there at his own expense.
“When you said married in Vegas, I thought you meant the White Chapel,” you whispered with a giggle.
Charles' smile grew at the sound and he took your hands in his. “That’s something tacky Pierre would do.”
“Hey,” the groomsman objected beside Charles. “Elvis isn’t tacky. Focus on your own wedding, mate.”
You laughed at the exchange before Lorenzo cleared his throat and your eyes widened as you realised he was the celebrant. “Is this legal?”
“The online certificate I got says so,” he said with a wink. “But if you’ve changed your mind I can skip the legal bits.”
Your eyes lit up with amusement. “No way, I’m not going to miss having you as a brother-in-law.”
“And I thought we were here because you wanted to marry me,” Charles joked. He had waited so long to marry you but now that the moment was here he was in no rush for it to end. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, where you were lighthearted and smiling. Where you weren’t lost in thought but present in the moment, with him.
“I do,” you said with a grin before peeking back at his older brother. “Does that count, can I kiss him now?”
Lorenzo wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s not quite, shall we get started?”
Charles could hardly keep still with his excitement. “Ready, baby?”
You reached into a hidden pocket in the dress and pulled out the engagement ring he proposed at Christmas with. Slipping it into your finger, you gave him a serious nod. “Now I am.”
—
“Good morning, Mrs Leclerc.”
You smiled as Charles kissed your shoulder blade and rolled you over to face him. He had already showered and dressed for the day before climbing back into bed with you and you peeked at the clock to see he would almost be late.
“You should be at the track already,” you hummed between the sweet kisses he peppered across your skin.
“Wasn’t going to miss watching you wake up as my beautiful wife for the first time.” His smile wavered as he kissed your forehead before pressing the back of his hand to it. “How are you feeling?”
“A little tired, but last night was worth the lack of sleep.”
He smirked and traced your lips longingly with his eyes. “Definitely worth it. But you don’t feel hot or cold?”
“Focus on FP1, Cha,” you said with a little push for him to get out of bed. “You’re going to be late.”
He playfully nipped your collarbone before getting off the bed and blowing you a kiss. “Rest up, mon amour, I’ll come back between the practices.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, more than the moon and the stars.”
“Hopeless romantic.”
“Love of my life. Fire in my loins. The apple of my-“
“Go away!” You tossed a pillow at him before falling back into the warm blankets with a laugh that turned to a yawn. “Profess your love to someone else and let me sleep.”
“Never,” he chuckled quietly as he watched your chest rise and fall into a steady rhythm. “It will only be you.”
Your health deteriorated rapidly after Vegas and your doctor urged you to return to Monaco, but you weren’t ready to leave just yet. There was only one thing left on your bucket list and it was within your grasp. Charles and Max were neck and neck in the championship but you had faith your husband would triumph in the end. So instead of heading home you remained by his side in Qatar and Abu Dhabi, letting him hire a medical team as a trade off for ignoring your doctor's advice.
It wasn’t just the season coming to an end and you could both feel it as Charles prepared for the final race. You didn’t have the strength to go to the track and see him start from pole, the prime position for the championship deciding race. You barely had the strength to stay awake for the whole race but you fought against the heaviness in your body and scanned the screens that had been brought into your room.
Pride made you heart light as you watched the world through Charles’ eyes. The onboard camera was clear ahead, all his competitors in his rear view, and as the laps passed by his lead grew wider. Charles was flying and he was taking you with him.
Charles took a seat on the centre podium as confetti rained down and fireworks exploded overhead. He wiped the sweat and champagne from his face before reaching into his race suit and grabbing the pen and paper he had tucked away.
Putting a strike through the last line he held it up triumphantly to the camera. “We did it, mon amour, we did it.”
You smiled as if he would see it and closed your eyes as you lost the battle. “I’m ready to go home now.”
The Bucket List:
Sleep under the northern lights
Swim with sharks
Skinny dip (not with sharks)
See Christ the Redeemer
Bowl a strike
Go to every Disneyland once
Ride an elephant
Go to India for the colour festival
Win an escape room
Learn to whistle
Have a mud bath
Teach Charles to cook
Watch the Grand National horse race
Get a tattoo
Learn to use chopsticks
Throw beads at Mardi Gras
Have my palm read
Try absinthe
Ride a luge
Go to a rage room
Join the mile high club
Catch a fish
Make a will
Bathe in healing waters
Charles Leclerc - World Champion
Click here for the requested last day alive.
#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#tw: cancer#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula one imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula one fanfiction#f1 rpf
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
SIMP
SUMMARY: men are liars. especially, jake sim, some guy you met once at a party and now only know through text messages. he makes promises he can’t keep but it’s mostly because he likes to hide that he’s more desperate than you are to get his dick wet.
jake sim x afab reader
MDNI!
WC: 5.6k
GENRE: smut, kinda subby!jake
TAGS: desperate jake, he’s experienced with sex just really bad at not being pussy drunk, reader has fun anyway and pokes fun at how he talked big game and couldn’t live up to it.
A/N: i know, i know. i’m supposed to be writing a different jake fic but this happened. this is a gift for my other monster cock loser jake lovers. not proof read
NSFW TAGS: he is packing a huge cock, nipple play, finger fucking, pussy eating, he gets compared to a dog/puppy a few times, dirty talk, jake gets desperate enough mid-way though and does fuck her really good, unprotected sex, cream pie, lots and lots and lots of cum.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Six times the man known as Jake Sim rendered you sore the next morning using nothing but pixel words on your phone screen. Six times over the span of two weeks.
You met him at a party, and he was both the first and the last man you spoke to that night. You should have caught on back then why he didn’t bring you home with him and only offered you his number with a wink and a shit-eating grin.
Now, as you see him in front of you again, this time in your apartment, you can see exactly why he didn’t bring you home. His facade would have been broken and you never would have been able to see the dirty little texts he’s able to send when he doesn’t have you looking him in the eye.
“Didn’t you say you were going to have me against every surface in my apartment the second you get here?” You question, twenty minutes into him being over and not once making a move on you.
He looks much more awkward compared to the tipsy man you originally met, still his dyed blond hair looks just as messy though. His fashion is still on par with the attitude you’d seen him throw at you too but, this version of him is throwing you for a loop. His lack of response leads you to believe that he must have lost interest in the span of time he’s been over.
“It’s not like I don’t want to,” Jake finally responds, brushing his fingers through his hair as he sits stiffly next to you on your bed, fully clothed. “Usually I don’t actually come see the girls I text.”
You shuffle next to him, turning with an eyebrow raised at him.
“So you’re not going to, then?”
Jake looks at you dumbfounded, shaking his head as if to pity himself before nodding quickly.
“I’d like to,” he argues, fiddling with his hands and avoiding your eyes now. “I just, um…”
You wait, allowing the silence to take hold of the room.
“I’m a little more uh–” He fidgets and fumbles his words again. “Listen, I don’t want to disappoint you if I don’t live up to how we normally talk.”
“What do you mean by that?” You ask, feeling duped by the man sitting there.
“I’m actually kind of like–” He lets out a deep sigh before turning toward you with honest eyes. “You’re making me shy, okay?”
You breathe in, shocked because based on the strings upon strings of sentences he’s thrown your way via text, the last thing you’d ever consider Jake is fucking shy.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He was right in telling you he was shy, and by now you appreciate the warning from him. It took a few minutes to get yourself back into the mood, but it happened nonetheless when he finally buckled under your gaze and kissed you.
If there was anything Jake did that he promised, it was kissing you in a way you never knew you needed. He was good at it too, so good that you nearly forgot he was supposed to have already fucked you on every surface the two of you passed to get to the very room you’re in right now.
Kind of strange actually, that he seems so different compared to his fantasies with girls he never thinks he will actually see again. So cocky in his text messages, saying he will ruin you, asking if you’d choke on his dick, saying he would love to see you struggle under him. Now though, that very man is struggling to keep his hands to himself despite admitting that he’s shy.
You chuckle into the kiss, feeling his hands reach for you with the sound of rustling clothing against your duvet. You let him chase as you slide lower, lower, lower, until your head is against your pillow and he’s practically hovering over you to keep kissing.
This is what you wanted. Jake over you, dominating a kiss and roaming his hands up and down your body.
“Shy?” You question between kisses, trailing your hand down to meet where his was, snaking under your shirt. “You seem to know exactly what you want.”
Jake’s eyes are empty as he looks at you, the cold feeling of his fingertips do not stop though. He continues to trail them upward until they meet the flesh of your chest, where you skipped the bra because you expected it to be a nuisance if anything tonight.
You’re shocked by his slight groan at the feeling of your already erect nipples. His groan seemed like it came out of relief, your body showing signs of being turned on despite his reluctance that was never promised to you.
“If you were like this over text, I still would have liked you, you know.” You admit to him with a sigh as he trails his lips down to your jaw, and you reach for his waist to pull him further on top of you. “You’re cute still, even if you’re not about to make me cry like you said you would.”
His cock twitches at that, wishing so much that he could live up to those dirty thoughts in his head and just fucking do it. But he can’t, because his body doesn’t work like that. If he were to do all of those things to you right now, he would surely come within the span of fifteen seconds and make this the worst fuck of your life. He’s too desperate to have control, and far too timid to even pull his cock out right now.
“It’s embarrassing,” he whispers against your earlobe, trailing kisses there too until he gets to the collar of your shirt. “I want to do those things to you, but I don’t think I’d be able to last if–”
He’s cut off by you shoving him up and pulling your shirt off in one go, trying to get to business much quicker now that he appears to at least be turned on. (Wrong, he’s been turned on since before he even got here.)
Jake trails off his sentence, forgetting what he was even going to say as the flesh of your breast sits comfortably in one of his hands and the other springs free. His cock twitches again as he stares, practically burning a hole through you as he looks, mouth slowly opening in a sigh at the image.
You see him malfunction and wonder if maybe, maybe, this could be even better than what you originally were expecting. Such a rough looking man with messy hair and even rougher fingers acting like this at the mere sight of some titties? Sign you the fuck up.
“God, look at you.” You groan with a smile, chuckling at the way he appears to blush. “You talk such big game but…”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jake shakes it off, releasing his hand from your chest and now removing his own shirt and revealing a nice, toned body for you to look at. “It’s not my fault you make me act this way.”
“Oh? Just me, or?”
Jake nods, then shakes his head.
“Not entirely, I’m just better at fucking over text.” He explains, now settling one leg between yours and dipping his head down to your chest, nuzzling against one of your tits and grabbing the other. “Doesn’t change the fact that I still want to fuck you right now though.”
You feel those words run through you, his soft voice coming out raspy and needy when he says it.
“You’re a weird one,” You laugh, gripping his hair and bucking your hips up to straddle his thigh. “and I still want you fuck me, even if it’s not the way you said you would.”
He licks against your chest now, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as he focuses on the feeling of you riding against his thigh. He’s thankful you still act desperate, at least you weren’t lying when you talked to him through texts.
“I’ll still make you feel good.” He whispers in a slight plea against your nipple, moving his head to the other and suckling against that one next. “Just let me try.”
God, you didn’t expect those four little words to hit you the way they do. A man asking you to let him try? Jake Sim at that? Sure, by now it should be expected but this is a different kind of heat flowing through you. Never have you been given control, and never have you felt the need to ride a man’s thigh like this.
“Jake,” You start, a little out of breath as you move your hips against him to the point that clothing becomes far more annoying than not. “Can we please take our clothes off before anything else?”
He pauses against your nipple, nodding before suckling again and then finally pulling away.
“You first.” He says, not yet wanting to pull his thigh from the way you move against it.
You look up at him, his lips glistening from his own saliva coating your chest.
“Why? Are you lying about your massive cock too?”
Jake looks down at the bulge between his legs and then back at you. Your eyes followed him to his cock, and they remained there.
“Oh.” You smile, now having the ability to pull yourself from his thigh and pull your shorts off at record speed. “Show me.”
Jake lets out a breathy and nervous chuckle, his ears flashing a darker shade of red than before as he nods to you in a timid way. You watch his hands go for the button and zipper, and you watch them further as they lower his pants to his knees before he kicks them away behind him. Now, all that’s left is looking at the already dampened spot on his briefs and the huge length stuffed beneath, clearly needing some relief.
He still looks away from you, not yet moving to take off his briefs until you feel his hands pull at your panties.
“Can I see now too?” He asks, already pulling them to the side and catching a glimpse of your folds. He shudders visibly at it before letting your panties snap back into place and all you can do is stare, still, between his legs.
“Take them off.” You deadpan.
He’s unsure if you’re implying he take his off, or yours, so he shoots for what he would prefer, gripping your panties and rolling them off of you.
“Take. them. off.” You say, ignoring the fact that you’re entirely vulnerable before him, yet feel safe and comfortable because of how timid yet eager he appears to be.
He fumbles to follow your direction, quickly kicking off his briefs and positioning himself between your legs again, sitting on his knees.
Your eyes don’t leave his exposed cock. Thick and heavy. He truly wasn’t lying about that at least, and you can imagine that regardless of how shy he is, he definitely could make good on his word with a cock like that.
“Oh, fuck.” You comment, lifting on your elbows and sitting up. Your face is now mere inches from his, but your eyes continue to stare down.
He puts a hand over himself shyly, wondering if maybe you’re not impressed, maybe he’s a complete fraud.
“Are you disappointed?” He asks, leaning a bit back and away from you.
“Disappointed?” You laugh, looking back up at him and instantly grabbing his face, staring directly into his eyes. “Jake, you’re bigger than what you described it as.”
He smiles a bit, feeling all fuzzy and warm inside as you look at him. His confidence bubbles up, giving him every ability in the world at this moment, and what does he do with it? He looks between the two of you as he drops his cock and watches it land between your legs, and then he looks back at you before dipping in for a much less timid kiss.
Feeling his cock rest between your legs is one thing, but feeling how his tongue kisses into your mouth at a more eager pace than before is an entirely different thing. You’re loving it, despite the turn of events with him.
“Not so shy now, hm?” You laugh, tilting your head before dipping back in to kiss him only to be met with a sigh of chuckles from him.
“If you keep complimenting me, maybe someday I can live up to all those promises,” He says, putting a hand at the nape of your neck and laying you back down. “Then again, I don’t expect to last nearly as long with how wet you seem to have gotten.”
You hum against his words, hands reaching between your body and his to grab his length and hold it, just to feel the weight, just to see how much of it you can fit into one hand…just to see if–
He groans at the first touch, his body shivering against yours as he trails his lips down again, landing against your neck with a small pant when his hips buck into your palm.
“I can’t believe that this whole time, this is how you react to having your dick touched.”
He says nothing and instead, continues to fall into the feeling of the short tugs against his cock, barely stimulating his entire length but still feeling like it’s enough to keep him pleased for the time being.
“Wanna, maybe, I don’t know–” You playfully start, tugging his cock a bit harder this time after collecting some of the pre-cum from the head, “Touch me too?”
Say no more, Jake’s fingers are instantly at your entrance as soon as you say it, sliding in so easily that it nearly makes you forget that you even told him to do it. His fingers are slender, and each joint on the digits are felt against your aching and gripping walls.
“I can’t believe how wet you are,” he coos, bottoming his two fingers out before gently beginning to thrust them in. “Were you like this when we texted too?”
“Wetter.” You lie, mostly because you were extremely wet from his texts but this…this is entirely different. You’re far more wet.
“Oh?” Jake asks, looking slightly disappointed but you can feel the way he changes how he moves his fingers. He also stops rutting against your hand, as if to put all of his focus on making you as wet as possible.
You moan for him at the feeling, his fingers tickling a spot inside of you that always has you seeing stars. Part of you wonders if he even knows he’s doing it, but you don’t press him, instead, you reward him with a tighter grip, pumping his cock until you can feel more beads of pre-cum slathering your fingertips.
“You need to be more confident, fuck–” You call out in a half moan, unprepared for the Jake that showed up but completely prepared to praise the hell out of what he’s doing. “This alone could have anyone on their knees.”
He smiles, furrowing his brow as he looks up at you, fingers picking up pace and starting to scissor you open.
“Can I taste you?” He asks out of fucking nowhere, and god.
“Jesus, Yes.” You groan, feeling him pound his fingers into you three more times before sliding out and pulling away from you.
You close your eyes, anticipating what it must be like to have him eat your pussy, and fuck, he wasn’t lying about that either. You remember that text from him, when he said “i’ll lick up every inch of your pussy babe, you wouldn’t even have to ask.”
The fact that you didn’t ask him to do it. The fact that he’s down there right now, already spreading you open on his tongue and licking every sensitive dip and corner he can reach. You’re just more and more pleased with this shy man that showed up on your doorstep.
His tongue is warm and firm no matter where he licks, and only softens up when he goes to lick a flat stripe up your slit, essentially sucking up all of the wet you’re offering him and savoring it through whimpered groans at the way your legs attempt to squeeze around his head.
He knew you’d taste good but this is on a whole other level. He can’t help it when he grips your thighs and spreads your legs out further, and he certainly can’t help himself when he prods his tongue into you, trying to taste more of what you have to offer.
You can feel his tongue dipping in, and the way he grips your thighs renders you nearly useless if you were to try and wiggle away, not that you’d ever want to but it almost tickles with how good it feels. Your legs begin to shake in his grasp, and he only spreads them further at that, tilting his head at an angle to lick into you even deeper.
“Holy shit,” You sigh out, reaching down frantically to hold his head in place so that you can grind your hips forward against his stiffened tongue.
He’s nearly going insane the moment you do that, riding his tongue and gripping his hair so harshly. If he could die like this, it would only be a dream.
Jake hums into you with his lips curling up at each drag of your hips, each taste of your walls, up until you’re grinding so aggressively that his tongue is back to hitting your clit for a split second before dipping in. He lets you do it, loving the way you use his face like a toy but, he’s starting to feel desperate for you.
In this position with his arms hugging your thighs and back arched as he dips down to lick you, his cock is fucking aching and all he can do is fuck forward. There is nothing for him to pleasure himself with, but this suffices for him as the act of humping forward alone is enough to satiate his intense need to fuck something right now.
Like a dog, humping just to release his intense arousal as he holds onto you. He should be embarrassed, but he knows you can’t see him do it. Especially when he flicks his eyes up and sees your tits jiggling with each move of your hips. Especially when you open your own eyes and they land only on his face. He’d like to think he’s doing a hell of a job right now, especially with how no matter how much he licks, you continue to drip for him.
As you continue to ride yourself against his face, you suddenly feel his fingers squeezing against your thighs and his head abandon where you guide him. Wanting to taste you still, he neglects your riding hips and plants his lips at your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue until your grip in his hair grows more and more painful and you pull him back to look at him.
His eyes are dazed and his lips are glistening in a swollen and cheeky little smile. He stares back at you, licking his puffy bottom lip before letting his eyes roll at the feeling of that grip you have in your hair.
“Fuck, you’re loving this aren’t you?” You ask, now trailing your eyes down to his body and noting the way he’s desperately chasing nothing with his cock. You know he wants it, and god, are you going to let him have it.
He grins when you ask him, and he nods proudly at how your arousal coats his mouth and chin. He can smell the entirety of you on his face and it truly does feel amazing to him. Like he’s spiraling into a world of bliss simply for getting to lick your pussy.
You can barely contain yourself as you watch him. It’s like you’ve lost him completely from reality with the way he’s smiling, and the way his eyes remain drowsy and hooded. You could argue that the man acts cross-faded, but the fact that he acts like this over your pussy?
“I bet if I asked you to fuck me right now, you’d beg like a little puppy, wouldn’t you?”
His groan is long and drawn out with his slow nod, his hips fucking forward instinctively when his eyes trail down and sees that your pussy is practically pulsing.
“Do you want me to beg?” He says in a shaky voice, his chest heaving as his grip on your thighs grow tighter and you drag him back up to your face.
There, the two of you look at each other for a brief moment before you feel him fuck forward again, sliding his cock against your drenched core and letting out another pained whimper.
“You’re so wet, please.” He cries against your lips as he drops his face lower.
Your arms shoot around him, feeling his back muscles tense with each intentional thrust against you. The weight of his cock is sliding consistently up and down your pussy, bumping your clit and overstimulating it to the point that all you’d need to do is tense your muscles and you’d be releasing.
He said please, and you can argue that he’d probably do a flip if you so much as asked him to right now. As much as you wanted to choke on his dick, at this point you’d rather feel what it’s like to have him losing control inside of you. You want to know how he uses it, and you’re already well aware that he very well may make you lose grasp on reality.
Even now, you can feel his slack lips moving up and down against your own as he continues to hump against you. You can feel his breath on your tongue when you try to see if he’s too lost to even kiss you. And that, he was.
“Go on,” You encourage him, running one hand down his arm and the other up to his hair to grip it again. There, you pull his head back, watching his neck crane and eyebrows furrow in a wince at the feeling. “Fuck me then.”
His unintentional moan comes out strained with the way you have his head pulled back, but he moves one arm to one side of your head and the other straight to his cock, where all he needs to do is press it down and hold it there. As he continues fucking against you, that small motion lets him slide in with ease.
You can feel his arm beside your head shake at the feeling of his length spreading you open. You can see the way he swallows thickly at the feeling, moaning out and staring at your ceiling as he feels your walls slowly hug his entire length.
He enters you slowly so that he can feel his sock squeeze your wet out of you, feeling it run down his balls. He shivers at the feeling and the sound of it, and you shiver at how deep he manages to slide in.
It’s so deep. His thick cock aches inside of you and with the way your walls squeeze him, and even when he tightly fucks forward once again once he’s already bottomed out, he manages to fill you just just that much more.
You groan out, releasing his hair from your shaking fingers and feeling his lips immediately kiss against your jaw and neck.
“Fuck, fuck.” He whimpers, relieving you of an inch of him before sliding back in slowly. “Fuck, you feel so tight.” He continues, moving a hand down to your thigh and swirling his fingertips there to try and calm your shaking legs.
You can’t really comprehend anything other than the fact that this man is so fucking hot, and the way he slowly moves his hips just to feel each and every clench of your pussy has you seeing stars. You feel like he’s filled you up beyond belief, and each thrust somehow makes his cock feel heavier, bigger.
Even as he babbles against your neck, his other hand falls to your tit and he can’t help but mindlessly play with it as he begins to actually fall into a rhythm. You’re still rendered completely speechless as you focus on every single touch he gives to you.
Those gentle, soothing circles of his fingertips on your leg, the other hand harshly pinching your nipple and sending a sharp pain down your body, his cock being driven in, somehow, deeper and deeper as he continuously manages to hit your g-spot and– god, the way his lips slowly trail down to your other tit, biting you there.
“So tight, so good.” He babbles on, slamming his cock into you once before lifting from your breast to see your reaction.
When he looks up at you, a permanent shit-eating grin is planted on his face with the way you roll your eyes back in a silent moan. Perhaps he wasn’t so much of a liar in those texts. Seeing you react this way has his confidence skyrocketing as he continues to keep that pace. The sound of your pussy being pounded and dripping all over him. He can’t even believe how wet you are, how tight you are still.
He stays like this, staring at each reaction and silent moan as he focuses solely on fucking you as hard and deep as possible. He may not be fast, but he’s making sure you can feel every goddamn inch he has to offer, and it appears that you’re relishing in it.
Those silent moans you try to release always end in a small hiccup each time his hips meet your inner thighs, and it’s not long before you’re losing grasp all together. You shoot your hands to his arms, gripping his biceps as your only link to reality as you feel him continuously bump the back of your pussy in an immaculate show of how well he knows how to fuck.
“Jake,” You hiccup out, gripping his biceps harder as you clench around him.
Still, his cock drags through your attempts of speaking, and he continues to stare at you with a grin before hovering his lips over yours.
“What is it?” He whispers in a shaky breath, sucking in his bottom lip and only now picking up the pace so that he can render you speechless again.
You can feel his lips ghosting over yours, and you really thought you had something to say but the only thing that comes out is a sobbed out moan. You throw your legs around his waist now, moving your own hips to meet his and that alone has him spiraling again.
“Yeah,” He chuckles, dipping his head to your neck and resting it there, “Fuck me,” he whimpers this time, stilling his hips to feel the way you slide him in and out of you.
Still, your strength amazes him. He thought he had control for a few minutes there and yet here he is, acting much like you are with his trembling hands and trembling thoughts.
You continue to work your hips from under him, and you don’t even know when he stopped playing with your nipple but it doesn’t entirely matter. Not now, not when you need more of him.
He’s thrown off when you grab his hair again, and he still loves it as much as he did the first two times you did it to him. Then, he can hear your raspy voice whisper out to him as you drag his face, once again, to yours.
“Lay back.”
That’s all you had to say to have him immediately listening and maneuvering his body in a way that keeps his cock buried deep but still managing to throw himself back on the bed for you to take full control.
Now, he looks up at you and the way your darkened eyes devour him. He’s so fucking turned on right now that he thinks he might cry, especially with the way your knees hug his hips as you immediately start fucking yourself on him.
He’s in awe, hands reaching behind you to grab at your ass and spread it as you bounce on him. Each time you sit yourself down, it’s like you’re being impaled in the most pleasurable way possible. The way he keeps eye contact with you is intense and dangerously intimate, but you can’t bring yourself to look away either.
That smile forms back on his lips as you pick up your pace, and through that smile are moans so erotic you can feel your pussy drench him over and over again each time he does it. Never, have you had sex so fucking good in your life and it’s making you feel almost helpless as you work yourself up to an orgasm.
He still watches you though, before flicking his eyes down and taking in the image of your bouncing tits. He’s quick to remove his hands from your ass to fondle them before sitting himself up aggressively and sucking one into his mouth.
You moan out at that, stilling your bouncing as you opt now to sit with his cock entirely inside of you. You swirl your hips and plant your fingers in his hair, hugging his head as he sucks and bites a swollen spot against your chest before he holds you in an even tighter hug.
“I’m so, so close.” He says in a broken sigh, trying to move his hips up under your weight and failing to do it. You listen to his cries though, and resume your bouncing even through his harsh and suffocating hug.
“Yeah?” You ask, bouncing once, swirling your hips, and then pressing your weight on him to have him falling back into his rightful spot against your bed.
His grip around you remains, dragging you down with him as he breathes himself through the pleasure and babbles out strings of curses when you manage to still work your hips on him even though he’s gripping onto you for dear life.
“Gonna let me feel it?” You ask again, this time more playfully as you intentionally press your clit against his pelvis each time you slide him into you.
He nods brokenly, squeezing his eyes shut and loosening his grip on you, letting you break free and ultimately, intentionally fuck him until he’s pumping you full of everything he has to offer.
You watch as he lies there, seemingly lost again in the bliss of your pussy clenching around him. He barely notices your fingers circling your clit, and is shocked to realize that you’re releasing before him, despite how close he is.
He can feel your walls massage his aching cock as you begin to let out strained moans. He knows you’re coming the second he feels how tight you’re clenching, sucking his cock so deeply inside of you that he has no choice but to release.
He fucks into you as best he can at this moment, only stopping when he feels the first release inside of you, and there, he tenses his muscles and allows his stiffened length to nearly tear you in half as you continue to work through your own pleasure.
You can barely open your eyes to see his face, and the way his jaw is slack and his eyes are very nearly crossing before squeezing them shut. God, that alone could have made your orgasm last another ten seconds.
By the time you’re done, he’s still releasing somehow. The sheer amount of cum he’s spilling into you is arguably more than you’ve ever felt, and he trembles through it with whimpered apologies, begging you to stay on him, apologizing with a small “ fuck, wait, I’m still coming–”
And you do, especially through his shaking whisper of “please, take all of it.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He’s back to his timid self just an hour later, lying on your bed wondering when you’re going to tell him to leave. Wondering if you like him enough to let him do this again with you, hoping you don’t erase his number.
He’s pleased to know though that, you not only ask him to sleep over but you also make it your mission to go down on him the moment he wakes up next to you. Reminding him that even if he was different upon coming over, he still fucked you better than he ever promised.
You’d be stupid not to choke on it for him.
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Waitress
Pairing + WC: Jason Grace x mortal!reader, 2.1k
Warnings: NOT canon compliant, this takes place in my world where Piper and Jason realized they were best as friends right after lost hero and Leo never got with Caylpso. also TOA never happened because it makes me sad. Also somewhat not proof read
Summary: Jason has been sneaking off for weeks and Leo is detirmened to find out why. Or alternativly: Leo, Piper, Annabeth, and Percy go snooping in Jasons buisness
Authers note: Hey hey! first fic in what feels like a million years! I definitely have to shake the rust off a bit but this was a fun one to get back into it! I was listening to Waitress at work and got this idea so i ran with it. Honestly not much of the actual relationship, theres a lot of set up and other characters but I think I may do a part two if this does well :)
Jason Grace was a busy man. Going between camps, building shrines to all the minor gods, serving as Pontifex Maximus, taking trips to Olympus to meet deities, and head counselor duties. Everyone knew he had no time on his schedule. His friends were lucky if they could get him to spare an hour to catch up, much less get him to a bonfire. So why on earth is it that Jason Grace would take upwards of two hours out of his day, three days a week, to walk out of camp and go to who knows where?
Leo was determined to find out. He’d watched Jason sneak off for the past month, and he was sick of wondering. He tried to bring it up but just got a red-faced muttered excuse about it’s just a walk in the woods and I have to finish my work before he'd disappeared into his cabin.
“I think we’re lost,” Percy said, stopping suddenly and causing Piper to almost slam into his back.
“We are not lost!” Leo exclaimed, “I swear he went this way,”
“We’re miles from camp,” Piper butt in, “he could be anywhere,” she crossed her arms and glared at Leo.
“We should turn back before someone notices we’re gone,” Annabeth added, looking up and down the road they were on. Leo had seen Jason sneaking off just before lunch and had convinced his friends to follow him. Now, here they were, on some back road heading through the woods surrounding the camp a mile and a half away from the border.
“Guys, c'mon! Don’t you want to know where he’s been going!” Leo turned back to the group. “He can’t have gotten far.” He kept walking backward in the same direction they’d been heading for the past 10 minutes. For a little while, they could see Jason walking along the side of the road, far ahead, but they’d kept their distance so he wouldn’t notice them. Then he made a turn at an intersection, and they’d lost sight of him.
“Maybe he really is just out for a walk?” Piper offered.
Leo hualted now, “For two hours? No way, he’s definitely up to something out here.” He stared at the group, waiting for someone to disagree. No one did. It was definitely unusual behavior from the son of Jupiter to take so much time away from his work.
“We’ve been walking for 25 minutes. I say we go 5 more and then head back,” Annabeth spoke up, sending Leo a you owe me glance.
“Perfect, 5 minutes!” Leo returned an appreciative smile before turning on his heel and continuing down the road with his friends in tow.
They rounded a corner a minute later, and Leo couldn’t help the I told you so grin that came across his face. In front of them, just a few more meters down the road was a genuine 1950s-style roadside diner with the name The Doo-Wop Diner plastered over the door. “See!” Leo pointed triumphantly, “Now imagine if we had turned back when you quitters had wanted to,”
The group walked up to the diner, rolling their eyes at Leo’s antics. They peered in through the windows that lined the front. It was cute, with pastel blue on the walls, 50s-style booths, a jukebox in the corner, and a countertop bar.
“Is he even in there?” Percy asked, huddled next to Annabeth and scanning the restaurant.
“He’s got to be,” Leo squinted from Annabeth's other side.
“There he is!” Annabeth pointed to the far end of the bar where Jason was sitting. He had a cup of coffee and an open book in front of him.
“What’s he doing in there?” Leo asked as if any of them knew. “He walks all the way out here for ‘New York's best black coffee’?” He read off the sign in the window.
The group looked at him for another minute in deliberation before Piper let out a quiet gasp. “It’s not the coffee he’s here for,” she was staring at something on the other end of the restaurant with wide, knowing eyes. “Look,”
When the three others looked back at Jason, they saw a soft, almost nervous smile on his face while he gave a slight wave. When they followed his gazeto the other side of the resturant, they all came to the same conclusion that Piper had. Jason Grace had walked nearly thirty minutes away from camp to a rinky-dink old diner on the side of the road to see you.
You were dressed in a 1950s waitress uniform and serving some of that aforementioned black coffee to an old couple. When you caught sight of Jason, your face lit up, and you waved back. As soon as you finished pouring the coffee, you brought the pot over to where Jason was sitting, even though he still had a full cup in front of him. The four standing outside were frozen in place as they watched the two inside interact.
“Hey!” You said as you approached. The smile you had on now was so much more genuine than your usual customer service smile. “I missed you last week,”
Jason’s smile mirrored your own as he put a napkin between the pages of his book to mark his place. “Hey. Yeah, sorry, I had a last minute thing, uh, out of town, I had to do,” he had been called back to Camp Jupiter to resolve a minor god conflict and hadn’t been able to come in at his usual time.
“Ooo, more of your mystery out-of-town work?” He’d mentioned it several times but, for obvious reasons, couldn’t tell you the whole story, and being the golden boy he was, he couldn’t bring himself to flat-out lie. “Is it something illegal?” You asked.
Jason let out a laugh at that. “It’s definitely not illegal.” He pushed his glasses back into place.
“Are you sure? Because based on what you’ve told me, it’s out of town, it’s odd hours, it’s highly secretive, and it’s hard work.” You listed things out, counting them on your fingers. “You’re either selling drugs or possibly a secret agent.” You finished with wide, questioning eyes.
He laughed again at your list. You always had a way of putting his mind at ease. When it was swimming in work, and he couldn’t think straight, you always managed to bring him back to sanity. “It’s all boring, I promise. I’d much rather be here.”
Your grin returned. “Oh really? I didn’t know you held our fine establishment in such high regard.” While you spoke, the cook rang a harsh bell and shouted, "Order up!”
“Thanks, Cal,” You called while you grabbed the two burger plates from the kitchen and walked them around the counter to deposit them at a table nearby. Jason watched you while you worked, the soft smile never once leaving his face as you handed out napkins and refilled some water.
Once you were back, the conversation picked up exactly where it had left off. “It has its selling points,” he mused. The other half of that sentence, mostly about cute waitresses with the brightest smiles and the prettiest eyes, stayed caught in his throat. The pair slipped into an easy routine they’d established long ago. Jason would sit and drink his coffee while you bustled around, taking orders, running food, cleaning the occasional spill, all the while keeping up a steady stream of small talk.
It was a mutually beneficial relationship. You got a bit of conversation to distract from the monotony of your work, and his blue eyes always seemed to make your day go smoother. Jason got a much-needed break from everything Greco-Roman. At camp, he always had so much responsibility, and so many expectations were weighing him down. Here, he didn’t have to worry about all that. You didn’t know who his dad was or what quests he’d been on, and you didn’t care. You liked him for him and not for the hero he was supposed to be.
You returned to your spot across from him and picked up a rag to look like you were still doing something. “Have you told anyone at that camp of yours about this place?” You knew Camp Half-Blood existed. You also knew it wasn't anywhere close to normal based on the folks that came through, but they had the best strawberries even in the off-season, so you didn’t ask many questions.
“No way. Trust me, you do not want them coming here,” Jason had told you about his friends, minus a few details, but he had always emphasized that they were trouble.
“Uh huh, so then, who's staring at us from the window?” You asked with a sideways grin on your face.
“What?” Jason wiped his head around in time to see four panicked faces duck below the window sill outside. “Oh, by all the gods!” He muttered angrily under his breath and made a beeline for the door. “I’ll be right back,” he called to you, knowing you’d watch his book and half cup of coffee.
“Take your time,” you called back as he pushed open the door and stepped outside.
For a second, all the demigods stared at each other without moving. Four crouched on the ground, wishing he hadn’t seen them, and one glaring at the group from above. Jason grabbed the front of Leo’s shirt and hoisted him up so he stood with his hands raised in surrender. “What are you doing here,” he hissed.
“Hey! Calm down, calm down,” Leo tried a friendly smile but was met with a glare. “We just, uh went for a walk?” He offered an explanation that sounded more like a question
“Wrong answer,” Jason sent his glare at the other three. “Did you all follow me?” He let Leo go and took a step back so he could glare at everyone all at once instead of having to shift his gaze.
“Leo made us come,” Piper threw him under the bus.
“Oh gee, thanks, beauty queen. It's nice to know where your loyalties lie.” Leo shot back, adjusting his shirt front.
Percy gave Jason a sly grin. “We were curious, but we never would have come if we knew you had a secret girlfriend out here,”
“She is not my girlfriend!” Jason cut him off.
Percy put up his own hands, “Sorry, secret crush,” he corrected.
“She isn't! I don't-” Jason was full-on flustered now.
“Does that mean she’s up for grabs?” Leo asked. He looked back inside before getting smacked upside the back of the head by Annabeth. “What? She cute!”
When Jason looked back through the window he caught your eye and you sent him a questioning, yet very amused, glace. Jason had a bit of panic at that and quickly moved to usher the four away from the window and back towards the road. “Absolutely not! First of all, she’s a person; she can’t be up for grabs, and secondly, you can’t meet her!”
“What? Why not, she seems nice,” Annabeth asked.
“She is nice! And she's normal, and she doesn’t need to know any of you,” Jason managed to get them all about 10 feet from the front door. “Go back to camp. Just follow this road east for a mile, turn right at the second intersection, go straight for another half-mile, and you’ll see the border.” Jason gave the hurried directions and prayed to whichever god would listen that they’d all just leave.
“Whoa, man, we walked all the way out here, and now you're just gonna send us away?” Leo asked, putting a hand over his chest in fake offense.
“Yes,” Jason shot back flatly.
Piper spoke up next, “Wait, what’s her name? How long have you been coming here? How’d you even find this place? Does she like you back? It looked like she did.”
“Really?” Jason asked before shaking his head and focusing again. “I mean, I am not answering that,” he was still trying to shew the group away, but clearly, it wasn’t working.
“Well, do they have good food here?” Percy added
“I saw ‘Breakfast all day’ on one of the signs,” Annabeth walked around Jason and back towards the door.
“And that burger meal she brought out looked really good,” Leo added. The four demigods went right past Jason and headed for the front door.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Jason muttered as his friends ignored him and went in. “This is not good,” he said to himself, following the group back inside. They obviously had no intention of leaving, and he figured the next best course of action would be to simply die of shame. He knew this day would come; someone would catch him sneaking off, and his best-kept secret would become his worst nightmare. He just didn’t think it’d be so soon.
≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺
Ahhhh first fic in a long ass time, its not my best work but personally I liked the plot so I got a little carried away and might have to make a part 2
#x reader#jason grace x reader#jason grace#jason grace x y/n#jason grace fluff#jason grace x mortal!reader#pjo x reader#pjo#percy jackson x reader#heros of olympus#heros of olympus x reader#hoo x reader#pjo hoo
436 notes
·
View notes
Text
HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16
— 04. THE CLIFFHANGER
PREV. PART | NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]
summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles.
content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing and a tiny bit of angst because why not.
TWITTER — JUL 11 & 12, 2023
INSTAGRAM POST — JUL 15, 2023
Liked by user98, y/n_gossip and 315,886 others
paddockgossip We have some interesting news about Charles and Y/N relationship! They both were at an event last night, but with two different people and (thanks to our insider!) we know that they didn’t talked or crossed paths, they didn’t even looked at each other! Do we know why? Maybe it was Charles’ plus one, who is, if you’ve been following their relationship, the same girl Charles was seen with back in Austria.
Trouble in paradise? We all saw the pictures of Y/N and her ex-boyfriend Andrew Garfield out and about in London just a few days ago. And now we only have this mess which seems to be following both Charles and Y/N everywhere they go.
Is this the end of a relationship that had only just begun?
view all 1,425 comments
user98 i don’t think they’re together anymore. it didn’t look serious from the beginning
user99 Charles deserves better. This girl was on a date with her ex boyfriend a few days ago, I wouldn’t forgive that so easily.
user01 okay but you don’t know what happens behind closed doors
user99 I’m just saying what Charles should do.
user02 but you’re not charles leclerc, are you?
user03 i’m a child of divorce
user04 I haven’t even got them over my parents divorce and now this happens
user05 They both are being sooo childish
user06 i prefer him dating his friend than this girl
user07 what friend?
user06 the one he was with in Austria, i think she’s an influencer, i’m not sure
user08 y/n is WAY better
user09 Maybe Charles is the problem. Let’s not do this awful thing between women like you always do when shit happens
user10 I hate gossip pages so much.
user11 NOOO I loved them together 😭
user12 that was such a power couple
Y/N’S iMESSAGE — JUL 15, 2023
INSTAGRAM STORIES — JUL 17, 2023
INSTAGRAM POST
📍 PARIS, FRANCE — JUL 25, 2023
Liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 892,556 others
charles_leclerc A little escapade before flying to Belgium. I haven’t slept in two days, can you see?
view all 7,478 comments
user13 someone teach him how to dress
user14 y/n was doing a good job
user13 but then they broke up
user15 THEY WHAT
user16 hold on ☝🏻 he’s in france??? in a fashion show?? as in y/n’s walking that fashion show fashion show??
user17 I WAS THINKING THE SAME THING
user18 I think you’re onto something
user19 why is he wearing that to a FASHION show
user20 is it true he’s dating an italian influencer?
user21 Charles is dating @/yourusername
user22 no they broke up
user23 we don’t know that
user24 Y/N’S IN THE LIKES
user25 WAR IS OVER OH MY GOOOD JSHDVDHAJAA
user26 i’m in denial until someone confirms y/n and charles broke up
user27 you and me both
user28 charles is attending the same fashion show she’s in. look at her stories!!
📍 PARIS, FRANCE — JUL 25, 2023
Liked by jennaortega, florencepugh and 77,480 others
voguemagazine Say hello to our @/yourusername opening this week’s #FashionShow in Paris.
comments on this post have been disabled
📍 PARIS, FRANCE — JUL 25, 2023
Liked by f1gossip_news, y/nnews, and 135,765 others
paddockgossip Alert, Alert! Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend, Y/N L/N, spotted leaving the Fashion Show Y/N walked in just a few hours ago. They’re currently in Paris, a quick ‘escapade’ as the Monégasque called it before flying all the way to Belgium for the final race before the Summer Break.
Remember that just ten days ago we were telling you how we thought things weren’t good between them and were waiting for a breakup confirmation. We were wrong! Let’s hope things are okay and we can see more of Y/N paddock’s fashion in the future. All the best for them.
view all 3,557 comments
user29 oh god no please
user30 I thought we already got rid of her
user31 i don’t like her, she doesn’t seem nice
user32 Mmh this kinda looks like PR
user33 i thought the same but idk in the pics pop crave shared they look v cozy
user34 some people feel too comfortable judging y/n just because it’s charles.
user35 like grow up girl you’re never gonna date him lol
user36 this comment section didn’t pass the vibe check
user37 charles always dates toxic people
user38 i doesn’t seem serious to me
user39 matching glasses, such a power couple
user40 i don’t like her but they look good together
user41 i hate her sm she’s everywhere 🤢
user42 if you don’t know her just search what happened between her and sebastian stan
user43 there’s a pretty long ass thread on twitter with timelines and all y’all should check it out
user44 that relationship was so toxic i’m glad my boy found his way out of there
user45 she has said in a lot of interviews that she regrets everything that happened between them and that they’re on good terms now
user46 besides they both were so young
user45 they blame her when he was the one who cheated on her a hundred times
user47 she’s ben through a lot of toxic relationships i hope this one is different
comments on this post have been disabled
TWITTER — JUL 25, 2023
TAGLIST (bold means i couldn’t tag you) — @leclerc16s. @willowpains. @berrnuu. @minkyungseokie. @1655clean. @sassyheroneckgiant. @nessacarty1. @a1leexxa. @storminacloud. @lovstappen. @littlehoneyfreak. @paintedbypoetry. @miakat9. @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir. @thatoneembarrasingmoment. @lyrasconstellation. @rhythmstars. @c-losur3. @apolloxxivmin. @janeholt3. @lovrsm. @gulphulp. @thecubanator2. @dark-night-sky-99. @ssprayberrythings.
note: oh my god!! hiii <3 sorry for not posting sooner but a few things happened and… well. there’s just only one chapter left! i can’t believe this is ending. like you don’t know that i had such a good time doing this smau. i’ll probably write an extra part, like a blurb or something about the conversation y/n and charles had if that’s something you’d like to read?! please let me know (it would be posted after the final chapter). 🤍
#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fluff#f1 imagine#charles leclerc smau#f1 grid x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc blurb#f1 fanfic#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc angst
544 notes
·
View notes
Text
Be Good
Pairing: Female Reader/Azriel/Eris | Rated: E🌶️
Neapolitan bonds Master post | Word Count: 2493|
Summary: Eris had an important meeting so he told you to listen to Azriel, but no sex. He didn’t say anything about the shadows having similar restrictions
Warnings: edging (female reader), daddy kink, light bdsm, mentions of rope and wax play, praise kink, mating bond three-ways. No use of y/n just second POV.
A/N: Eris=Daddy and Az=Sir. Reader=Princess, baby girl, my love. I also never claimed to be an expert in light bdsm. Idk what happened I wanted praise kink with Eris and Az and got this.
Read it here on ao3| Read below
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Eris said to do what Azriel said.
That’s how you ended up in your study, hands pinned to the desk by shadows. You sat on his lap with his hard cock pressed against your backside. He didn’t touch you; he wasn’t allowed to fuck you and you both knew if his hands met your bare skin you’d both be in trouble. But his shadows however weren’t under those constraints.
“Open up your bond to our mate, baby,” he whispered in your ear. The cool breeze of shadows slipped up your skirts.
“But he’s still in a meeting.”
“I know.” You could hear the wicked smirk in his voice as he pressed a kiss to the back of your head. “We’re just going to tease him. He’ll let you in.”
“But I’ll get in trouble.” You whimpered as those shadows swirled along your thighs.
“You want to be a good girl, don’t you? You have to listen to me. I won’t let you get in trouble.”
“You promise?”
You gasped as something cold- another shadow- slipped down the front of your dress.
“Have I ever lied to you baby girl?”
You twisted your shoulders around to look back at him with a skeptical look. He only chuckled at you. You normally kept your bond shut down during the day. Mostly because with two mates, nothing would get done if emotions were shared all the time. The three of you learned that after your frenzy. Azriel seemed to read your mind since your bond was wide open to him. You focused on opening the bond to Eris while he ran his hands down your sides.
“Remember the day when we accepted the bond?” Gods did you ever. His hands fisted the skirt of your dress, dragging the fabric up just slightly. “That night you took both of us so well.”
You remembered.
You’d winnowed to the cabin when the frenzy started. They both had their turns with you individually and with each other. But the bond was still squirming in your chest and you begged them both to take you at the same time. Eris was behind you and Az in front. You’d never been so full in your life. You’d never screamed so hard when all three of you came together, the bonds between you wide open and flooded with pleasure.
“We should do that again.” Azriel’s voice brought you back from the memory. “Take a week at the cabin. I want to work you open real slow.” His hands slipped over your dress and pulled your thighs apart without actually touching you. “I want to see you take us both in that pretty pussy of yours.”
“Az!”
You squirmed in his lap, both legs now draped over each side of his own. A shadow had slipped into your panties and ghosted along your clit. Another shadow was stroking along your breasts. Azriel’s chuckle rumbled in his chest. He brushed your hair side and nipped at your neck.
“Be good and Eris will come take care of you. Then next week, I get to play.”
“And do what?” you panted.
“First I’m going to fuck our mate so stupid, he’ll be calling me High Lord.”
“And me?”
By the Mother, the shadows were doing too good of a job teasing you. You couldn’t think about anything else but getting Azriel’s fingers into your cunt.
“I have ropes and a paddle waiting for you, princess.” You whimpered and wiggled your hips back against his cock. He growled into your ear and added. “Careful. You know what happens to brats when it’s my week.”
That brought a moment of clarity in the haze.
“Punish me then. I’ll just lick your wings until you beg.”
You yelled. Azriel was out of the chair and shadows were pulling you by your wrists down the desk so you bent over it. He didn’t take off your panties nor did he throw up your skirts. He kept you there for a moment not touching you. Then you felt him crowd around you, wings blocking the lights.
“Try that again.”
“I’m sorry,” you said quickly. He hummed at that.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” He whispered in your ear.
“I want your hands on me.” That shadow in your panties was rubbing your clit faster. Your breath quickened. “I want your fingers. I want them- I want them in me.”
“What else?” Az pulled back and spanked you. Not enough to hurt but enough to make you yelp and stand on your toes. “I thought you were my good girl.”
“I am!” Gods you were close.
“Then why are you being sassy?” He laughed but you didn’t think it was funny.
“I’m not!”
Your skin was on fire. You could smell the arousal coming off Az in waves, torturing you on top of what he was pushing down the bond. You flexed your hands and stood on your toes, wanting to fall off the edge. Then the shadow left. You sobbed out a whine, tears in your eyes.
“Sir, please.”
You slumped on the table. A low primal growl behind you made you shiver.
“There she is.” He crowded you again. Shadows were back on your thighs, the cool brush of them teasing you more. “Hi baby. Close your eyes and listen to me. Don’t speak unless I ask you too.”
You did as you were told. Hazy want settled over you and you wished he’d touch you.
“Good girl.” You whined and pushed your hips back but he wasn’t having it. He held your hips in place. “Don’t be greedy, Princess. Our mate isn’t here, remember.” You nodded. “I want you to think about the last time I really fucked you.”
Last week came to mind. He had you by the hair, fucking your mouth while tears streamed down your face. Or when he had you on the bed, arms tied and legs pressed back so he could get in as deep as he wanted.
“Send that down the bond.”
You were sure Eris already knew what you were thinking but you pushed it through anyway. You thought a hum of approval came back to you.
“Think about what our mate is going to do to you when he’s done with his meeting,” Az whispered. Warmth in your chest bloomed at the thought of Eris coming back. “I know for a fact he’s been wanting you all day.”
You bit your lip, flashes of Eris fluttered through your mind. Shadows were in your panties again. You kept your eyes closed even while you squirmed.
“I showed him how to tie the rope but he still needs practice. Do you want me to put you in the rope tonight, baby? I could tie you up like a present and leave you on the bed for him. You can answer.”
“Not allowed,” you shook your head.
Az hummed approval. “You listen to us so well.”
You nodded. You did listen. Eris said no sex and no rope. Not unless he was present. You weren’t sure if it was a test of your honor or a test of patience. Probably the latter.
“We will practice on you later.” He kept talking. “He can get out the safe candles. I want to see you squirm again.”
You squeezed your legs at the thought. You knew it was going down the bond but the images you weren’t sure if it was from yourself or one of them. Flashes of Eris dripping wax on you while Az had his head between your legs. The snug feeling of the soft rope on your skin. You were close again, pleasure building in your pelvis and thighs. The shadows left again and you wanted to cry.
“Az,” you couldn’t get out the rest, a smack on your ass taking your breath away.
“That’s not my name right now, princess.”
You pouted. “Sorry sir.”
“You’re forgiven, baby.”
Az kept you like that for what felt like hours. His shadows would tease and tease, getting you close and then stopping, denying you of release. You’d beg and plead but Az wouldn’t let you cum.
“You can’t cum without Eris here, baby,” Az would chuckle.
At one point you heard his leathers being undone. You were so wet, you could feel it on your thighs.
“Sir please. I want it. I need it. I’ve been a good girl.”
You fucking knew he was stroking himself. Your mouth watered at the thought. You wiggled your hips, pesky shadows damn near overstimulating you. Az was still laughing at you like he wasn’t the cause of your current duress.
“I know Princess. You’ve been the best girl. You have to be patient and wait for Eris.”
But you were done waiting. You needed Eris right then. You needed him so bad you were throbbing from it. If Az wouldn’t take care of you, Eris would. You tugged on the bond without thinking, sending all your want down it. Come get me please is what you sent. The bond tugged back twice. I’m coming for you. Your eyes fly open. Eris was coming.
Daddy was coming.
“Daddy’s coming,” you whisper out loud. You pull at your wrists but the shadows don’t budge. “Daddy is coming for me.”
“Okay Princess,” Az was running his hands through your hair, instantly calming you from the frenzy of the moment. “You’re going to sit down in this chair and act like nothing happened. Okay?”
“Yes sir,” you sighed.
Shadows enveloped you smelling like Az and that calmed you down a little. Wrist shadows let up and he guided you back into your chair before the shadows went back around your wrists.
“Don’t say anything. I want him surprised.”
You nodded and waited.
Not even a minute passed when the door to your chambers opened and slammed shut. Heavy footsteps echoed as they approached the study and you had the nerve to hold your breath, waiting. You really shouldn’t have been surprised when a warm hand dug into your hair and pulled your head back over the top of your chair.
You blinked and stared up at Eris. His short red hair was askew, like he’d been running his hands through it constantly. He was breathing heavily.
“My love,” he said, looking down at you. You squirmed in your seat at how blown his pupils were. “You knew I had an important meeting today. Explain to me why, for the last hour and a half, you’ve been sending very distracting things down our bond.”
A shadow tightened on your wrist. A warning. You looked up at him and pleaded with your eyes. Eris was smart; his gaze flickered to where your hands laid on the desk. His grip loosened.
“Azriel.”
Laughter filled the room and behind you, you knew Azriel had stepped out of the shadows where he was hiding. Eris still didn’t let go of your hair.
He looked back down to you. “Did Azriel make you tease me, princess?” You nodded. With a heavy sigh, he let you go.
“Azriel.” Eris’s voice was low, and even not addressing you, it went a shiver down your spine. “You almost got our girl in a lot of trouble.”
You could feel the heat off him, his anger mounting. The shadows holding down your wrists left you and you were free to turn in your seat. Another shiver ran through you. Both your mates were staring each other down. You looked at Eris.
“Are you mad at me, Daddy?” you said softly.
“Not with you, princess,” he didn’t look at you, but still glared at Azriel who was still chuckling to himself. “You think this is funny, Azriel.”
“Of course I do.” Azriel gave him that arrogant grin he always has when he was riling his mates up. “You shut me out. I knew you’d let our girl through the bond. I’d pay good money to have seen the look on Rhys’s face, you reek of arousal.”
“And this room reeks of sex,” Eris grumbled. He glared down at you and you shrunk in on yourself. “Did he fuck you while I was gone?”
“No,” you shook your head, eyes wide. “I was good. I was a good girl. I promise.”
“She was the best girl,” Azriel smiled at you proudly. “I edged her a few times. You didn’t bar me from using shadows. They helped paint the picture of what I wanted you to feel down the bond.”
Eris glowered at Azriel. “Of course you’d find a loophole.”
You bit your lip. “Am I in trouble Daddy?”
There was a flash of recognition in his eyes, like he just realized how deep in you were.
“No,” Eris took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. “I did tell you to listen to Azriel while I was busy.”
Az came over and stroked his fingers down your cheek. “See. You’re not in trouble. I wouldn’t let you be punished for following my instructions. You know that.”
You did but after playing with you all afternoon you were in a headspace and easily convinced otherwise. You looked up at Eris through your eyelashes.
“Is your meeting over?” You asked softly. You couldn’t help but drop your gaze to his pants.
“No, it’s not.”
“I’ll go,” Azriel said while he ran his fingers through your hair. You instantly relaxed at the touch. “It’s just Rhys.”
“And Tarquin. And Helion.”
Eris put his hands on his hips but you could stare at his crotch. Maybe you could convince him to use your mouth. You’d been so good for Az, you wanted to be good for Eris too.
“I can handle them while you take care of our girl.” Goosebumps crawled up your skin from his words and the way he played with your hair. “She’s been so good. She deserves it.”
“Good for you, maybe.” You whimpered and Eris looked down at you, a flash of regret on his face.
“I can be good for you too, I promise.” You whispered.
Eris sighed and looked at Azriel. “Go. But don’t think you aren’t getting punished later for making me look like a fool.”
“I look forward to it.” He leaned down by your ear and whispered, “Show our mate what a good girl you are.”
“Okay,” you nod.
Azriel hummed an acknowledgment and you looked to watch him disappear into the shadows. You didn’t have much time to react to Eris walking up and lifting you out the chair. He marched with you draped over his shoulder and laid you onto the bed.
“Daddy expects you on your best behavior.” You bit your lip while he stood by the bed and took off his jacket. “Is your bond to Azriel open?”
“Yes daddy.” Your eyes widened with want while you watched him work on his shirt next.
“Good. Take off that dress and let’s show our mate what it feels like to be toyed with.”
Sequel here: Now Behave
#acotar#azriel acotar#azriel x eris#eris vanserra#eris acotar#eris x reader#azriel x reader#azriel x you#Eris x Azriel x you#acotar x reader#acotar x you#praise k!nk#edging kink#idk man#omg they were mates#Neapolitan Bonds
545 notes
·
View notes
Text
Side-Gig | [Peter B. Parker x Reader]
Pairing: Peter B. Parker x Reader
Summary: Peter gets worried about your apparent “side-gig” and goes snooping, only to discover your side-gig is writing Spiderman smut on commission.
Contents: Fluff, Smut, Consensual Sex, Pussy Eating, Banter, Friends to Lovers???
Author’s Note: I swore off posting fics on tumblr, but since this is just a one-shot, I figured why not. I think Peter B is charming, had to write a lil smth smth for him. And by that, I mean a 7.1k wordcount fic.
You and Peter Parker are friends. Not best friends, but pretty good friends.
You like to say you’ve looked out for each other over the years. You don’t talk all the time, but it’s kind of an unspoken promise that when one of you needs someone to lean on, the other person will be there.
Which is why, when Peter and MJ separate, you make a point of inviting Peter over for meals.
At first, he turns you down every time you ask, and you know it’s because he’s wallowing—depressed about his situation. And that’s understandable. You can’t exactly say you know what he’s feeling, but if you put yourself in his shoes, you’re sure you’d be a little bit fucked up about everything too.
Therefore, you give him a little space—wait for things to settle and for Peter to come around.
Except, Peter takes it all way worse than you expect—going radio silent after your third invite in two months. Then, you really start to get worried (and also a little mad that he’s ghosting you).
So, you manage to scrounge up his new address using some internet-sleuthing skills, and show up at his door. When he opens it, he’s dressed in a greasy wife-beater, worn-out gray sweats, and white socks with a hole in the toe.
“Jesus Christ, Peter.”
You spend that evening scolding Peter and letting him cry it all out—handing him tissue after tissue as he blubbers about everything on his mind. When he’s finally done, he apologizes for ignoring your last call, and thanks you for looking out for him.
With a smile, you assure him you’ll always have his back, and that now he really has to come over for dinner, because he owes you.
Laughing, Peter agrees. And luckily, he sticks to his word.
Since then, you and Peter make a point of doing dinner twice a month—typically at your place, sometimes out at a restaurant, but never at Peter’s. Not until he deep cleans his messy apartment, and you know that won’t be happening anytime soon.
Tonight, you’re at a restaurant of your choice—a local Italian joint. Peter arrives late, per normal, and you wave him over when you see him walk in the front door. He immediately spots you and hurries over, his eyes darting to the plate of bruschetta you’d ordered for the table, that now only has two pieces left.
“Aw, that’s not fair,” he says, sliding into the booth across from you. He immediately reaches for one, shoving it into his mouth. You shrug, not sorry.
“That’s what you get for always being late. And if I waited for you, I’d be hangry by now. So really, you should be thanking me.”
“Uh-huh,” Peter says with a roll of his eyes, picking up the menu to see what it is he wants.
“So, how have you been? I know we just saw each other two weeks ago, but—how’s work?”
You sigh at Peter’s question, resting your chin against your palm.
“Fine, I guess. Work is cutting hours since things are slow right now, so I’m gonna be pretty strapped for cash the next month or two.”
Peter blinks at your response, staring at you over the edge of the menu.
“Should we be here then? We could just get the check now and go down the street to the bodega—”
“No—no, it’s fine,” you reassure him, taking a sip from your glass. From the look of it, Peter can tell the glass is filled with rum and coke—your simple, yet timeless go-to.
“This is kind of my last hurrah, y’know? Gotta get one last plate of carbonara in before I’m eating ramen and eggs for the next few months.”
“I dunno about that,” Peter responds. “Eggs are pretty expensive now—you might have to settle for canned tuna.”
You roll your eyes at him, yet can’t help the little giggle that escapes you.
“You’re the worst.”
“I know,” he says with a smile.
The waitress wanders back over, and you and Peter put in your orders. Peter also opts to get a drink (after all, if you’re drinking, why shouldn’t he), and a few minutes later, a cosmopolitan is placed onto the table in front of him.
You watch him with a wide smile as he picks up the girly drink and takes a long sip—his pinky sticking out and everything.
“You and your love of sweet drinks,” you say, swirling around the ice in your half-empty glass. Peter hums happily.
“Listen, this is way better than beer.”
Honestly, you can’t disagree.
“So,” he continues, picking up the previous topic. “Are you gonna be okay? Money-wise?”
It’s not like he has much help to offer. Being a masked vigilante doesn’t pay very well, after all, but still.
“Yeah,” you assure him. “I have a side-gig that brings in a little cash-flow, so that’ll help cushion the blow. But I think I should still be able to afford rent and some groceries. I’ll just have to budget better, y’know?”
Peter nods. “Oh, okay. Good—,” but then his brain repeats the phrase “side-gig”, and his words cut off.
“Wait, what kind of side-gig are we talking about here?”
Despite how long the two of you have known each other, Peter has never heard anything about any kind of “side-gig”. It’s a little concerning, honestly, since the two of you don’t really keep secrets from each other.
Although it’s not like you know he’s Spiderman.
“Yeah. It’s nothing illegal, I promise,” you tell him, your attitude remaining pleasant. Peter stares at you, waiting for you to say more, but your smile only grows wider.
“Not telling,” you say, laughing quietly to yourself when Peter huffs in annoyance and grabs his drink. “You’ll just have to trust me. I’d never do anything illegal—you know me.”
“I dunno,” he responds, a playful lilt in his tone. “In college I seem to remember you stealing soft drinks from the mess hall without paying—”
“Oh c’mon,” you shoot back, and Peter grins, knowing you hate when he brings that up. “We were already paying to go to classes! Why should I pay 3 dollars for a cup of watered down coke?!”
Peter laughs as you go on a mini tangent about how college is a ripoff—ordering both you and him two more drinks when your waitress stops in to check on your table.
After a short while, your food comes out, and the two of you catch up over the hot meal. Conversation flows like normal—touching on any other life updates, and also local news topics, and things of the like.
At your insistence, Peter splits a tiramisu with you to close out the evening, and by the time the dessert is gone, Peter thinks he may explode.
“Ugh, why did I let you talk me into that?” Peter groans, curling over and holding his stomach as you fetch enough cash from his wallet to cover half the bill.
“Well, if you were smart like me, you would have kept half of your entree to take home with you for later, and then you would have had enough room left for dessert. Which, by the way, is too good to waste—so don’t puke it up.”
Your waitress swings by to grab the bill, and you assure her it’s all set—passing her the small stack of money taken from both your and Peter’s wallets. She thanks you with a smile, and then scurries away, leaving the two of you alone.
You reach over the table, patting Peter’s shoulder.
“You’ll be fine. Your stomachs gotten bigger, after all.”
“Hey—,” Peter frowns, lifting his head. You’re already grabbing your purse and takeout box—sliding out of the booth. He quickly follows after you.
“Are you calling me fat?”
“No,” you respond, holding the door open for him as the two of you step out into the cool New York air. “You’re actually still surprisingly in-shape for someone whose diet consists of pizza and frozen meals. But, that being said, you can’t deny you’ve put on a few pounds.”
Peter places a hand on his stomach.
“Remind me again why you’re so mean to me?”
You can’t help but laugh, the sound getting lost in the crowd around you.
“You just make it too easy,” you admit, grinning up at him. Despite himself, Peter smiles back.
Being the gentleman that he is, Peter fully intends to escort you back to the doorstep of your apartment building, but—
His spidey senses tingle, and he can tell something is off.
“Hey, um,” Peter grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. Before your brain can even catch up, he’s yanking you into a quick hug, and then backpedaling towards the alleyway the two of you had just passed.
“Sorry, I just remembered there’s something I have to do. It was nice seeing you! Let’s touch base soon!”
He’s gone before you can even get a word out, disappearing around the corner. You stare after him for a moment, befuddled, and then continue on your way with a sigh.
Same ‘ol Peter.
Exactly one hour later, Peter collapses in a pile of trash—his lungs heaving, and body aching. The fight itself hadn’t been that hard—just a few wannabe criminals with deadlier than normal weapons.
No, the real challenge had been not barfing up his dinner while doing acrobatics across the city.
And maybe laying in a pile of trash to take a breather isn’t exactly helping his current predicament, but fuck—he doesn’t have the energy to move right now
Spreading out his limbs, Peter stares up at the smog-coated night sky, his mind wandering. He thinks about a lot of things—all the villains he’s fought in his time as Spiderman, the people who have come in and out of his life during it all, including you. You…who apparently has a “side-gig”.
…but like, what kind of side-gig?
Peter groans, knowing he won’t be able to let this go.
You can’t just drop the knowledge that you have a secret side-gig on him and then not tell him what it is!
And if you’re insistent on keeping it a secret, it must be something bad, right? RIGHT??
“Goddammit,” he grumbles, picking himself up. He swings off into the night, his mind reeling.
Peter lasts all of 3-days before he decides he can’t be left alone with his thoughts anymore—that he just needs to confirm what exactly your side-gig is, before his theories can get any wilder.
Because so far, his top guesses are that you’re either 1. Unknowingly acting as a middle man for some illegal trafficking operation, or 2. Providing “services” to New York sleazebags to get in their wallets.
And Peter knows it’s likely neither option—you’re too smart to get roped into something stupid. Plus, you had assured him it was nothing illegal.
But if he doesn’t figure it out, he thinks he may explode.
So…he goes snooping.
It’s not his brightest moment—using the spare key you had given him “in case of emergency” to sneak into your apartment one evening. (But to be fair, to him…this might just be an emergency).
He’d used his spidey senses to scope out your apartment before coming in, so he knows you're not home. Which is good, but…he doesn’t know when you’re gonna be back either, so he has to move fast.
Softly closing the front door behind him, Peter tip-toes across your apartment, deciding to start in your bedroom. He stands in the doorway for a moment, guilt bubbling up inside of him, but he decides to push forward anyway.
He’s just making sure you’re okay, he tells himself. You’re one of his closest friends, and you won’t tell him your secret—so it’s understandable he’d be worried.
Like the true Sherlock that he is, Peter starts with you dressers. He quickly checks each drawer—gently lifting up the stacks of clothes to make sure nothing is hidden beneath them. (The only time doesn’t is when he encounters the drawer with your bras and panties. He simply stares at them with flushed cheeks, rocking awkwardly on his heels, before he quietly closes the drawer. Surely nothing would be in there anyway, right?)
The small stack of papers on your nightstand ends up being recent receipts, and a manual on how to use the white noise machine you've apparently just purchased, considering it's sitting on the floor beside your nightstand, still in the box.
Getting on his hands and knees, Peter does a quick check under your bed, and freezes when he spots a covered box. He pulls it out without thinking, tugging off the fabric lined lid—
—and immediately slams it back down.
…veiny, pink, silicon—
Peter haphazardly pushes the box back under the bed, hurrying to his feet. He bustles into the kitchen with cherry-colored ears.
All-in-all, it takes Peter about half an hour to search your apartment, and unfortunately…he comes up empty handed. It seems like you have nothing to hide (except a box of sex toys under your bed, but Peter thinks that’s pretty understandable. You don't want dumb assholes like him accidentally finding it, even though Peter had—)
Sighing, Peter takes one last glance around your apartment.
“Ugh, I shouldn’t have done this,” he sighs to himself, taking a step towards the door. But—not watching where he’s going, he stubs his toe into the leg of your coffee table.
A curse leaves his lips, and your opened laptop—which had previously been dark—jolts to life. Kicking the table must have moved your wireless mouse, Peter realizes.
Having already decided to leave, Peter fully intends to continue on his way. That is…before he takes a glance at your computer screen and sees that you have it open to a Google doc titled: “Spiderman x Reader Commission #6”.
…then, he’s scrambling onto your couch and yanking your laptop towards him.
“Number six??” he hisses dramatically, his eyes scanning over the document so fast that he doesn’t actually end up reading anything.
He has to pause and go back to try again, but the second Peter reads the sentence “Spiderman’s cock strains painfully against the tight confines of his suit, his fingers twitching against your waist as he drags you in closer”, his brain effectively blue screens.
In a panic, he clicks into a different tab that’s open—landing on your email inbox, where a thread sits open. A transaction between you and an apparent “customer”. Someone who had contacted you in regards to your open “commissions”.
Hi there!
I saw you’re accepting commissions, and I really enjoyed reading the other Spiderman fics you wrote! Would you be open to writing one for me? Preferably a Reader x Spiderman, and a smut/fluff genre. Based on the rate sheet, I think I can afford it, but I’d appreciate it if we could talk more and discuss the final price based on the idea I have.
Thanks!
Holy shit, Peter realizes. Your side-gig is writing Spiderman porn on commission.
He sinks back into the couch, his mind whirling.
How long has this been going on?? Do you…are you attracted to Spiderman?? As long as Peter has known you, you’ve never really fangirled over Spiderman. If Spiderman had popped up in the news, the two of you would talk about him, but…that was it.
And now you’re writing Spiderman smut for cash? Holy hell.
Peter supposes he should be relieved that what you’re doing truly isn’t illegal. That you’re just making money in a mostly innocent way, from the safety of your home. Meaning, Peter can call it quits, and leave.
…but instead, he leans forward, clicks back onto the Google doc tab, and starts reading more.
The document is still a work-in-progress, but Peter scrolls back up to the top, wanting to see how you’ve managed to set up this scenario.
As it turns out, a villain had injected Spiderman with some sort of aphrodisiac, and the reader is a bystander, bravely offering Spiderman her services to get him out of this pickle.
While embarrassing to admit, Peter gets sucked into the story—impressed by your ability to write, and your portrayal of him—err, Spiderman. In fact, he gets so distracted by the story and the multitude of thoughts running through his head that his spidey senses don’t kick in until danger is right on his doorstep.
Or, in reality, you are on your doorstep—your key shoving into the lock on the door.
Peter’s heart nearly rockets out of his chest, his eyes darting to the window across the room. It’s closed, and even if he used his web shooter to rocket over to it, he wouldn’t be able to safely open the window and escape outside in the two seconds it’s going to take you to finish unlocking your do—
Before he can even finish the thought, your front door shoves open, and you flick on the lights—your gaze immediately finding Peter, who is still firmly planted on your couch, looking like a deer in headlights.
You stare at him in shock.
“Peter? What…? Why are you here?”
“I was…worried about you,” Peter responds, forcing himself to smile. And it’s not like it’s a lie.
“You said you were strapped for cash, and I…I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
You kick the door shut behind you, your purse and keys discarded on the small table beside your entryway.
“I thought I told you to just trust me?”
You face him with a hand posed sternly on your hip. You appreciate his concern for you, but it’s a little upsetting that he hadn’t just been able to trust your word.
“I know,” Peter responds with a sigh. He runs a hand through his graying hair, and your gaze flits to his ears, noticing how red they are. Why is he so flushed?
“And I’m sorry. I’m dumb, I should have. Trusted you, I mean. I’ll just—,” he pushes himself up, planning to excuse himself and run, but freezes half way to his feet.
He’s half hard. Fuck.
If he gets up now, it’ll be a lot harder to hide that—especially since he’s wearing sweatpants.
Making a lil noise, Peter eases himself back down onto your couch. You cock an eyebrow.
“...you okay?”
“Yeah, sorry…back spasm.”
“Well, you don’t have to rush out. You’re welcome to stay for a while if you don’t have anywhere to be.”
You flash him a smile and turn towards the kitchen. Peter watches you as you open your fridge and bend down—fetching two bottles of water from the bottom shelf. His eyes glue to your ass the second you lean over, and Peter punches himself in the knee—forcing his gaze up towards the ceiling.
He’s going fucking insane. He’s not used to being this…feral feeling. Arousal is usually one of the emotions that evades him nowadays, but here he is—done in by fucking Spiderman fanfiction.
Who knew he’d get turned on reading about himself fucking some nameless woman? And who knew that arousal would make him thirst after you?
(Honestly, if he thinks about it, it’s not that surprising. The two of you have been friends for years, and he feels comfortable around you. Not to mention, you’ve always been attractive, even if you do like to push his buttons—)
“Here,” you say, snapping him out of his internal panic. You plop down onto the couch next to him, handing him one of the two bottles of water.
Peter reaches out to take it, and you notice the sweat beading on his brow. Why the hell is he—?
At that moment, you spot your laptop on the coffee table—open, and still showing the commission document you’d left open earlier on. Your first instinct is to reach over and slam your laptop shut before Peter can see—
…wait.
Peter reaches forward to take the water bottle from your grasp, but when he grips it, you don’t budge.
Confused, he looks up—only to find you intensely staring at him.
“Did you read it…?”
Peter’s face heats up, his eyes darting to the side to avoid looking at you.
Busted…
You pulse races, embarrassment blooming in your chest.
HE DID, you realize. HE READ IT. Your fucking Spiderman smut!
“Ah, shit…,” you mumble, letting go of his water bottle and crumpling in on yourself. You curl onto your side, hiding your face in the couch cushion.
Feeling horrible that he has embarrassed you—having discovered something you’d tried to keep private—Peter hurries to try and smooth over the situation.
“Okay, yes, I did read it,” he starts by saying. “But…it was…really good! You’re a good writer, and I can see why people are commissioning you! You’ll surely make some cash with the skill you have.”
If he was smart, he’d have stopped there, but no—Peter keeps going.
“A-And hey! I’d be willing to help too. Y’know, help give you some inspiration for your stories—”
His voice dies in his throat, realizing what it is he has just offered. And obviously, you realize it too—your head immediately lifting, staring at him with curious surprise.
“Did you just…offer…to fuck? To help me with my stories?”
The insinuation is so insane that you can’t help laughing. Peter coughs, straightening his shoulders out.
“I think I’d be very good inspiration for Spiderman.”
“Really?”
There’s disbelief in your voice. Peter narrows his eyes.
“You don’t think so?”
You hum, uncapping your water bottle and taking a swig. Peter mirrors you, his throat feeling dry.
“Spiderman is…suave and heroic, and you’re…dorky. Smart, but dorky.”
Peter frowns. “I can be…suave.”
You cock an eyebrow, a playful grin breaking out on your face. Your heart is racing a million miles an hour, because never did you think you’d be sitting here with Peter, the possibility of sex between the two of you suddenly laid out on the table. You’d never deny he’s an attractive male, and maybe because it’s him, and because you’ve missed the feel of another human being, you end up saying—
“Yeah? Show me then.”
You lean back, waiting to see if Peter will make a move.
Unfortunately, the realization that you’re open to whatever is happening right now causes Peter’s brain to stall, and he takes a second too long to act—just long enough to allow doubt to worm its way into your head.
You’re putting him on the spot. And he’s still probably dealing with some complicated feelings from the split—you shouldn’t have poked him.
Without saying anything, you decide to try and create some space. You push off of the couch, padding towards your bedroom. You’ll make an excuse about needing to fold your clothes, or something stupid—and hopefully Peter will take what you’ve said as a joke, and will move on. Yeah, that sounds like a solid plan—
Pausing in the doorway of your room, you force yourself to smile, and turn to face Peter—only to find that he’d snuck up on you—your gaze meeting his chest the second you turn around.
“Pe—,” you’re only able to get the first syllable of his name out, your chin tilting back as you look up at him. The feeling of his palm cupping your cheek is what makes your voice die out, his chestnut eyes boring into you.
You can see the hesitation on his face. A certain lack of confidence that you’re sure stems from his past relationship issues. But beneath that, you can see desire. A craving for intimacy he hasn’t shared in a long time.
You decide to be the one to close the gap—pressing onto your toes, your palm resting flat on his pec as you lean upward—connecting your lips with his. You can feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips, and you silently convince yourself that if Peter backs out, you’ll be fine with it.
Luckily, he doesn’t. His brain finally kicks into gear, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist as he kisses you back.
You make a pleasantly surprised little sound, your arms lifting to wrap around his neck—effectively deepening the kiss. A wrinkle appears between Peter’s eyebrows, his grip on your waist tightening. Your chest presses flat against his torso, and he rubs his thumb against your cheek, obsessed with the plushness of your lips and the feel of you against him.
It’s been way too long since he’s been intimate like this…that’s apparent by the blood absolutely rockets into his dick.
Although, to be fair, he’d already been half-hard before this.
“You think our local hero gets hard this quick?” you mumble against his lips with a grin, giggling when Peter makes a noise of annoyance and nips at you.
“You’d be surprised,” he responds. He slots his thigh between your knees, backing you into the doorframe. His clothed cock grinds against your stomach, trapped between your bodies, and his muscles tense.
“Adrenaline can go straight to the dick sometimes…”
(Peter has lost track of how many times, after an intense fight—especially earlier in his career—he’d swung home and immediately jerked off).
“That’s fair, I suppose.”
Your fingertips coast up the nape of his neck, tangling in the messy hair at the base of his skull. You yank him downward ever so slightly, your lips connecting with the skin of his neck. He immediately shivers, the first of many embarrassing sounds ripping from his chest as you lick and suck at his flesh.
“Think Spiderman whimpers?”
You’re teasing him. As to be expected, given the dynamic of your relationship. But Peter doesn’t intend on taking it quietly.
“Maybe,” he admits, “If you make him feel good enough. But if you wanna know what I think—”
Peter surprises you by ducking down—his arms looping around your thighs as he lifts you off the floor. Your squeal, arms and legs instinctively wrapping around him since you don’t want to fall, but Peter carries you easily enough—striding into your room and depositing you onto your bed.
He doesn’t waste any time—quickly caging you down. His knee reclaims its spot between your thighs, rubbing incessantly at the dampening fabric covering your privates, and his lips find your neck—a shiver raking up your spine as his stubble scratches against your skin.
“Peter,” you gasp when his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt. His fingertips ghost over your heated skin, brushing past your waist, and finding the clasp of your bra. You have to arch to give him room to work, and Peter sucks a hickey of approval into your neck. He debates telling you “good girl”, but the thought leaves him the second your bra pops open.
He needs your tits in his mouth.
“—I think Spiderman has a thing for boobs,” Peter says, finally finishing his earlier statement. This exclamation is followed with the immediate removal of your shirt and bra—Peter forcibly tugging them over your head and discarding them on the floor beside your bed.
The sight of Peter groping you and lowering his mouth to your chest is enough to have your heart skipping a beat, and you can’t help the mewl that leaves you when Peter sucks one of your nipples into his mouth.
Peter groans when your fingers fist in his hair, practically keeping his mouth trapped where it is, which he hardly minds considering he intends to lick and suck at your tits until you’re panting.
And, that’s exactly what he does.
He lavishes your chest with his mouth—relishing in the way your hips jump at each little nip of his teeth or roll of your nipple between his fingers. It’s embarrassing, honestly, how wet it gets you—your panties feeling quite wet as you continue grinding your pussy against Peter’s thigh.
You try and think of some smart response in regard to Peter’s opinion that Spiderman is a tit man, not an ass man, but words seem to be avoiding you. You can’t think of anything coherently when Peter is touching you like this. Especially when his face finally leaves your chest, his lips peppering kisses down the length of your torso.
You lift your head to look at him, propping up on one of your arms. Peter reaches your navel, but doesn’t stop, heading towards—
“Peter,” you pant, your face flushing hotly as you realize the path he’s carving.
Peter hums, his eyes flitting up and meeting your gaze just as he hooks his thumbs beneath the band of your pants.
“Another thing about Spiderman…,” he begins, kissing the skin of your tummy as he inches your waistband down your hips. You watch him with blown-wide eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly—excitement and nervousness mingling inside of you.
You lift your ass off the mattress to help him shuck you of your bottoms, and Peter smiles, tossing your pants on the floor beside your other clothes.
Never in your life did you imagine the sight of Peter sinking to his knees, his hands gripping your hips and dragging you closer to him—his gaze falling between your legs. Your panties are soaked, and the sight causes more blood to rush into his dick. He’s so hard that it honestly hurts—just a little bit—but Peter still doesn’t touch himself, because—
“...Spiderman loves eating pussy.”
“He’s a people-pleaser,” you quip breathlessly, your thighs quivering in Peter’s hold when he presses a kiss to your skin, right beside your panty line. He quietly chuckles.
“Maybe.”
Peter thumbs at your clit through your panties, relishing in the whine he rips from your throat. You hips buck in his hold, craving more, and when Peter sees the desperate look on your face, he decides to not tease you.
Peeling your panties to the side, Peter finally connects his mouth with your pussy—his tongue licking a wet, broad strip between your folds.
Oh, shit, you think to yourself, the muscles in your abdomen convulsing as you watch one of your closest friends eat you out. The whole situation is making you feel light headed, so you can’t help it when you collapse back onto the mattress, your fingers fisting in the sheets as Peter groans into your cunt.
He eats you like a man starved, his face quickly becoming covered with your arousal. His nose bumps against your clit as his tongue sinks between your walls, and you full out whimper—your hips needily grinding against his mouth.
Peter’s palm presses down on your pelvis, forcing your hips to the mattress. He doesn’t want you squirming—just wants you desperate and pliant. To see you cumming on his tongue.
His name falls from your lips again, more debauched than he’s ever heard, and Peter curses.
“Shit.”
His tone is guttural, and sexy, and—
He presses a finger inside of you.
“Oh, fuck, Pete—,” his name deterorates into a moan, your brain function declining as Peter begins fucking his finger inside of you. At the same time, he focuses his mouth on your clit, his tongue urgently flicking against the bundle of nerves.
You unconsciously wriggle at the assault of stimulation, but Peter’s hand on your stomach keeps you in place.
Why is he so strong? You think to yourself, moan ripping from your chest as Peter slips in a second finger. It doesn’t take him long to locate that spongy little sweet spot inside of you. The one that causes your thighs to shake as he practically abuses it—rubbing the pads of his fingers against it repeatedly until you’re nearly sobbing.
The coil in your belly winds tight, heat searing your veins. You can feel your clit throbbing against Peter’s tongue, and the walls of your pussy tightening up around him.
“Peter,” you cry, your entire body trembling. You’re so fucking close.
“Cum,” he rasps. He needs to see you orgasm—needs to feel you unraveling on his mouth and fingers.
Hearing the gravel of his voice is the final nail in your coffin—the tension in your muscles releasing as your orgasm washes over you. Just as he wanted, you cum all over him, your cunt gushing arousal around his fingers as his tongue continues lapping at your clit, dragging out the waves of your pleasure until you’re panting and pawing at his head, trying to push him away.
After a moment, he relents—sitting back to look at you.
You’re covered in a sheen of sweat, your chest heaving, and an arm draped over your eyes. Your tits are peppered with an array of hickies, and Peter feels his chest (and cock) swell with pride. He’s clearly done a number on you. And yet…
You feel the mattress dip, and then the room is spinning around you. When things finally settle, you find yourself laying on top of Peter.
He has one arm wrapped around your waist, his palm resting on your ass. The other brushes a few stray strands of hair out of your face when you lean back to look at him.
“Spiderman also loves being ridden,” he says with a grin. You place your hands on his chest, feeling it rumble with laughter as he watches you struggle to sit up.
“You think I have the energy to ride you after you just did that? And why do you keep saying Spiderman enjoys these things like they’re facts—you don’t know.”
“Just a feeling,” he responds, licking his lips. His hands find your hips, and he grinds you downwards. Your sensitive pussy rubs against his aching length, still trapped behind his sweatpants, and it’s hard to miss the way Peter harshly swallows at the feeling.
You sigh, scooting backwards.
“Fine.”
You shove his sweats and boxers down his thighs, careful to not snag them on his dick. And damn, he really must be aching—a sticky string of precum dripping from the head of his cock, and pooling on his abdomen.
He opens his mouth, but you don’t give him the chance to say anything. Your fingers wrap around his cock, smearing his arousal across his length, and whatever Peter had been planning to say crumbles into a needy garble of non-words.
You can’t help but smile at the sound.
“Surprised you didn’t cream your pants already,” you tell him, but your tone is hardly teasing. No, seeing him beneath you like this—the muscles in his torso clenching with every stroke of your hand—it’s actually quite endearing.
“I’ll cum in your hand if you keep doing that,” he pants, glancing into your eyes. You spot nothing but lust there, any previous reservations gone.
“Is that so bad?” you ask, thumbing at the head of his cock. Peter’s grip on your waist tightens, and you hear him take a shaky breath.
“Yes.”
He wants to be inside you, that much is clear. And while it’d be so easy to draw it out and make him beg…you don’t feel like being mean to him. Not tonight, after he’d just given you the best oral of your life.
“Fine,” you relinquish. You scoot forward, planting one hand on his chest, and gripping the base of his cock with the other. Peter’s breath catches when you rub the head of his cock between your folds, a heady groan following a beat later as you begin sinking down onto him.
By the time his cock is fully inside of you, your thighs are shaking. Whether from the lack of energy due to your previous orgasm, the remarkable size of Peter inside of you, or both—you’re not totally sure.
“There’s no rush,” Peter reassures you, but the needy warble of his voice betrays his words.
“My legs might give out at some point,” you respond with a breathless laugh, and Peter echos you, giving your waist a squeeze.
“That’s fine. I’ll help.”
With your palms planted firmly on his chest, you begin to ride him.
And god, you feel so fucking good.
“Fuck,” Peter bites out, watching the space between your bodies, where his cock disappears inside of you with every roll of your hips. It’s been ages since a cunt has squeezed his dick like this, and honestly, he can see himself very easily getting addicted to the feel of you.
The bounce of your tits as you ride him, the cute little sounds you make when his cock rubs against the sensitive spots inside you—he feels like he’s going crazy.
“Peter,” you whine, your pace flattering. Having his cock inside of you is incomparable to the feeling of his fingers, and very quickly, you can feel another orgasm building, but…the closer you get, the more your strength falters.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he responds, praises falling from his lips. “You’re doing so good. You feel so good.”
His words cause your walls to clench around him, and he groans—his hands sliding down to your hips as he helps rock you down onto his cock. The sloppy sound of sex fills your bedroom, and you watch Peter with half-lidded eyes, soaking up the desperation showing on his face.
His hair is slicked back with sweat, brows pinched together in concentration as he forces you to continue riding him. At least, until he starts craving more.
With his orgasm quickly approaching—despite the immense pleasure he gains seeing you bouncing on top of him—Peter’s hunger gets the best of him.
He grabs your wrists, moves your arms so they’re wrapped around his shoulders, and then secures his arms around your back. Before you can even digest the slight change in position, Peter is fucking you.
An incoherent string of noise slips past your lips, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as his cock pistons inside of you. With his arms trapping you against his chest, you’re helpless but to take it—your orgasm rushing to the surface at the desperate yet brutal pace that Peter sets.
“Peter,” you sob into his neck.
“It’s okay,” he responds without missing a beat, his voice breathless. “I’m right there. Cum for me again, sweetheart.”
As if you could stop.
Holding onto him for dear life, you cum for the second time that night—your walls clamping down on his cock so tightly that Peter’s rhythm falters. A curse rips from his throat, and his hands find the plush of your ass—stuffing your body down onto his dick as he cums along with you—pumping you full of his seed.
The needy tension of the room melts away, and you and Peter can only lay there—a pile of sweaty yet sated flesh. It takes you both a minute to catch your breaths, and you make a quiet noise of disappointment when Peter’s cock slips out of you.
You can feel his cum running out of your pussy.
“Your balls aren’t dried up yet?”
Peter’s chest rumbles beneath you.
“I’m in my 30’s, not my 60’s.”
You glance up at him when you feel Peter’s fingers clearing the hair away from your face, and he smiles at you. Your heart jumps.
He must know how handsome he is, right? Even with that crooked nose of his.
“Don’t you ever get tired of taking cracks at me?” he wonders, using his grip on your ass to slide you farther up his chest. You giggle, cupping his cheeks as you find yourself suddenly face to face with him.
“Mmmm, no?”
He rolls his eyes, yet his smile widens. You lean down to kiss him, and he reciprocates easily enough.
“Feeling good?” you ask him, carding your fingers through his hair. He nods.
“Very. I…really missed that.”
“Same,” you agree, sitting back. You need to get to the bathroom before any cum gets on your nice sheets. You crawl off of Peter, swinging your legs over the side of your mattress. He rolls onto his side, watching you with furrowed brows as he tucks his dick back into his pants.
“Same? You haven’t—?”
“Not in a while,” you admit, pulling a fresh shirt and a pair of panties from your dresser drawers. You’re about to make a joke that the only action you’ve gotten recently is from the toys stashed under your bed, but when you turn to look at the spot where they’re hidden, you find that…the box has moved. It’s not where you had left it.
“Did you…find my sex toys? Before I came home?”
Peter’s face goes carefully blank, but the red flush of his ears betrays him.
You shoot him a glare, leaving your room with a huff.
“Dude doesn’t trust me…how fucking rude…”
“Hey now—!”
Peter’s feet pound against the floor as he chases after you, and he catches you around the waist just before you make it into your bathroom. His lips press against the crown of your head.
“Again, I’m sorry for snooping. I’m dumb.”
You sigh, wriggling around to face him.
“You are,” you agree, lightly patting his chest. “Dumb, and insistent that Spider man loves tits, eating pussy, and getting ridden. Still holding those beliefs?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Peter grins. “And I have other beliefs about his preferences as well.”
“Of course you do,” you laugh. You kiss his cheek, and then step out of his hold—heading into the bathroom.
“I’m going to shower,” you tell him. “There’s some leftovers in the fridge if you want any.”
Peter nods, and the last thing you see is him heading for your fridge when you close the bathroom door.
30 minutes later, you exit your steaming bathroom in your fresh oversized t-shirt and panties, fully expecting to find Peter lounging around your apartment, eating all your food. But…to your utter disappointment, you don’t spot him anywhere.
You sigh, shoulders sagging. Had it been too much to assume he would have wanted to stay the night?
Shuffling into your kitchen, you spot an empty plate on your table. One that you know had previously been piled high with leftover chicken and potatoes.
“He eats my food and runs off…of course,” you mumble, picking up the plate to put it in the sink. However, before your annoyance can truly get the better of you, a piece of paper that had been stuck to the bottom of the plate floats to the ground.
You bend over to pick it up.
Hey!
Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to stay so long, so I left my apartment earlier without locking the door. I’m running back home to lock it, but I should be back at your place by 9!
Don’t get mad at me. I’d never run off without a word :p
-PB
PS. I have a working theory that Spiderman also has more stamina than you’d expect, even for a guy who’s been doing hero work for 20+ years, so…round two when I get back?
You can’t help but laugh.
What an idiot.
But…you like him.
#peter b parker x reader#peter b parker smut#peter b parker#i can't believe I'm posting this on tumblr#immediately going back to only posting on AO3 bc it's so much easier to format LMAO#fic#reader insert#reader x peter b parker#peter b parker x you#peter b parker x y/n
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Precious🩵
Summary: Reader gets separated from Daryl at the start and finds a farm with a wonderful family, she finds out she’s pregnant and one thing leads to another and a new group settles onto the farm
•Masterlist•
I waited for Daryl at our little house in the small town we grew up in, I had been gone to the city for the day when everything happened, I was able to find a car and drive back home praying that Daryl would be there waiting for me but I knew it would be a long shot, I waited for a few days until the food ran out and decided if I was ever going to find him again then I’ll have to go find him myself
So I pack up my bag with essentials, clothes, water, snacks that were left over and weapons for Daryl’s hunting collection, I drove for what felt like forever no signs of human life only blood and rotting corpses who some how took over the earth
I came to the interstate seeing the cars upon cars piled up blocking my way so I turned around hoping to find a back road to get around when I spotted a sign “Greene’s Farm” if the farm was still standing maybe it could have some food or more water, as I pulled up the drive way to a large white farm house people filtered out, it felt surreal to see people, live people
I got out of the car as the came down the stairs, it was an older man a girl around my age and a younger blonde, then what seemed to be an older couple and a younger boy
“How’d you find this place?” The man with the white hair asked
“I’ve been on the road looking for my husband, I got turned around in the road and saw your farm sign, I just need some rest” I say as I run my hand down my belly
When I went to the city when everything happened I found out I was pregnant and I was over the moon about finally starting a family with Daryl but now I’m scared, scared about delivery, this baby never meeting their wonderful father
The man noticed my movement and his harsher demeanor changed to one of pity
“Come dear we’ll get something set up for you”
They let me settle in the spare room after feeding me some eggs and fresh fruit, the house was cozy and they are lovely people but I can’t help that feeling in the pit of my stomach, the feeling I always got when Daryl would be gone too long, he always soothed me even if he didn’t talk much he showed me comfort with actions of love and care
Whenever he scrounged up enough money he’d buy me little gifts, he got me a silver necklace with a bow on it which I never take off, I never got a wedding ring because I refused and said we should keep the money for the future and that I don’t need some diamond to show my love for him
“Knock knock” I look up to the doorway and see Maggie standing there with a wide smile
“Daddy wanted me to check on you, well both of you”
“Oh yes I think we’re okay, I only found out about two weeks ago”
“That’s when you first had symptoms?” She asked as she sat next to me on the bed
“Yeah, the nausea and a little bump”
“I’d say you’re about two months pregnant then, signs only show up later, does the father know?” I shock my head feeling my heart clench in pain
“I never got the chance, I don’t even know where he is but somehow in my heart I believe we will find our ways back to each other” she ran a comforting hand up my back and smiled
“You’ll find him sweetheart you never know what might happen!” She said before she left the room giving me space to finally rest
It’s been 2 months now on the farm and it was peaceful for some reason this farm has gone untouched from the world that’s filled with death, I haven’t stopped looking for Daryl, every other day I’d search farther and farther out but there was no sign, as I was walking back to the farm I saw two men and Otis running through the field, I got back to the house and Maggie told me of everything that was happening, Otis accidentally shot the boy who Hershel was working on now
I sat outside on the steps as the young boys father came out obviously in shock covered in blood, he sat next to me completely disheveled, I took a rag I had in my pocket and wiped some blood he smeared on his face
“Hershel is a good surgeon and a great man, your son is in good hands” my words seemed to calm him down and what he needed right now was a distraction it seems
“I remember when my wife found out she was pregnant with Carl, we were young but I was excited this little life was gonna be born, so how far along are you?”
“About 4 months now, I’m not sure if it’s a boy or girl, I got separated from the father when I found out but I’ve kept looking, I know he’s out there, he’s a stubborn man but god is he strong and pretty smart too”
“Yeah I know the type, got a man like that back in our group, we lost a little girl and he’s been looking for her day and night”
“Maggie should be back soon she must have found your group by now, it’ll be okay” almost as if she heard me I see her horse ride up the field with cars following, then I hear the rumble of a motorcycle and it brought back so many memories I had with Daryl, when he’d work on his bike I’d sit with him, when we’d go for a drive at night together, moments I kept dear to my heart, zoned out in nostalgic thought I didn’t notice the group coming to the steps
“Y/n?” The grumble to the voice that I fell in love with, I look up to see him standing there just as the day I last saw him still as handsome, I couldn’t stand up fast enough before I was pulled off the stairs and into his arms
“I can’t believe it’s you, I looked everywhere, I missed you so much Daryl” I cried into his shoulder as his group was most likely watching this moment unwind
“It’s me sunshine, I found ya” he pulled back and we just looked into each others eyes for some time before he looked me over stopping abruptly on my belly
He opened his mouth but he seemed to be at a lose for words
“It’s yours if that’s what you’re wondering?”
“My baby?” He asked placing his hands on either side of my bump
“Yeah our lil baby Dixon”
After everything settled down and people set up tents I decided to stay with Daryl since they were using my room for Carl, I was sitting across from him on my sleeping bag and he couldn’t take his eyes off my bump
“Do you want to feel?” He thought for a moment before he nodded, I lifted my ivory dress just above my belly feeling his warm hands caress my bare skin
“How did this happen?”
“Well remember that night you came back from the bar with Merle and I was wearing my pink sundress you love” realization dawned as a blush crossed his face
“Yeah that’s how it happened” I laugh missing how easily it is to embarrass him
“Where have you been?” I asked as we laid next to each other
“Found a camp outside of Atlanta with Merle, idiot went and got himself stuck on a roof don’t know where he is now, then we went to the CDC and that was a bust then that leads to now finally some sanity with ya”
“I’m just glad you didn’t get bite, the farms been secure so I haven’t had any troubles”
“And ya never have to with me ‘round”
It’s been 6 months and Daryl and I had a beautiful 1 month old baby girl, it was painful giving birth but with Daryl by my side it made it a bit easier, hopeful
She was a wonderful little thing, barely fussy, brown hair light blue eyes just like Daryl, and he was over the moon about her he praised me over and over for giving him such a gift he treasured
We were able to move into the house to make it more comfortable for the three of us, we named her Lily because Carl thought it suited her perfectly so we just went with it
I walked into the room seeing Daryl sat on the bed with her in his arms her little hands reaching to pull on his now grown out hair, I sat beside them curling up to Daryl’s side
“She loves you so much D”
“Not as much as I love her”
“You know I think she’s your favourite”
“Nah she loves us both sunshine, I love ya”
“I love you too Daryl, forever”
#twd fanfiction#twd daryl#daryl dixion imagine#twd x reader#daryl dixon#twd fluff#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixion smut#daryl x reader#daryl imagines#daryl dixon twd#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead daryl#daryl x female reader#daryl x you#daryl x y/n#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon fluff#daryl dixion x reader#daryl drabbles#twd#the walking dead series
343 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hidden feeling - {Itoshi Sae}
“So Itoshi, there’s just one more question I’d like to ask that almost everyone here has been waiting for.” The interviewer cleared her throat and placed the notecards down on her lap fully turning her attention to Sae. You were sitting in his dressing room watching the interview live off the tv silently praying that your boyfriend of five years wouldn’t cuss this woman out. He’s been waiting for this interview to finish ever since it started and you could tell from his face that he was getting aggravated.
“Well it’s about your ‘relationship’ with y/n.” You flinched and started clenching your hands together. “Why the quotations? It’s not a ‘relationship’ likes it’s make believe or something. My girlfriend of five years. What about her?” He quickly rebelled not letting her finish, a tang of guilt shot through your chest but you chose to ignore it. “We did a survey last week comparing your type along with who we think you’d be with. Or how do I put it, someone everyone thinks you should be with. You said you and y/n have been dating for five years, you must not like her enough to want to marry her…” she leaned forward showing off her breast while casually caressing his arm.
As you watched their little interaction the little pang in your chest got worse and your hand was starting to bleed from how hard your nails were digging into your palm. This wasn’t anything new, Sae would always go to these interviews and the interviewer would always sneak in these questions and doubts about your relationship while also sneaking in rude and insulting comments about you. There’s nothing for you to do about it, you just sit there and take it because at the end of the day Sae always chooses you.
“Miss…” “hmm?” You responded keeping your gaze on the tv just watching them two. “You’re bleeding, he’s going to kill me if you got hurt under my watch.” Sae’s assistant said running over and opening your hands to see the damage, tears brimmed in her eyes as she scrambled to grab bandages. “Thank you.” You said watching her finish the wrapping and at the same exact moment everyone gasped at the tv at something that was said. “What happened?” You asked sitting forward, “she just called you a broke background slut whose only with Itoshi for his money.” Pausing for a moment you looked down at your hand then back up at everyone with a gentle smile on your face.
“It’s okay guys…if her comments aren’t hurting me then they shouldn’t be hurting you. She’s not even talking about you so don’t let it faze you.” You finished with a smile, after a second all of your flinched hearing the door open aggressively and Sae walked in ripping off all the wires and microphones from his body. “Let’s go, we’re leaving.” He said throwing the stuff on the seat next to you and grabbing your hand to help you stand up. “What happened to your hands?” He paused, “nothing just some small cuts.” He sighed and pulled you out the studio and towards the car. He helped you get in then closed the door once you were comfortable.
The ride home was silent, and the rest of the night was even more quieter. After the interview you were supposed to go on a date but obviously that didn’t happen because of how upset Sae was and you didn’t mind. He always ends up making it up to you, but that wasn’t the reason you were laying in bed right now wide awake. Sae had his back turned to you and he was fast asleep while you laid there with your eyes glossed over. You were about to start sobbing crying all because of what that lady said today, knowing sae had to get up early in the morning you quietly removed yourself from the bed and went into the living room to calm yourself down.
There’s no reason you should be crying over a couple of comments, it’s not like she physical put her hands on you. But she was bold enough to basically grope Sae on live tv in front of the whole world. Leaning your head back against the couch you closed your eyes feeling your warm tears slide down your cheeks and fall onto your shoulders. After a few minutes of being left alone with your thoughts Sae’s voice broke you out of your trance. “Y/n ?” Your eyes flew open and you jumped leaning forward while wiping your face, thank goodness the lights were still off and he could t see how red and puffy your eyes were.
“Why aren’t you sleeping? You know we have to get up early in the morning.” He stayed standing behind the couch staring at your dark silhouette, “you’re right. I’m coming, let me get some water and then I’ll meet you in the ro-om.” Silently cursing yourself for your voice cracking, you stood up and starting walking towards the kitchen but Sae’s grip on your wrist stopped you. He reached over and flipped the light switch to get a better look at you, “what’s wrong?” He still had the same neutral expression but you could tell in his voice that he was worried.
He didn’t like seeing you cry, out of the five years you two had been dating he’s only seen you cry once and that was when your father died. So to see you trying to hide away from him to cry kind of hurts his pride, it’s like you don’t trust him enough to confide in him. “Nothing, I just had something in my eye.” You said trying to laugh it off while idly rubbing your eye, he rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is it about what she said? About the marriage thing?” You cocked your head to the side in confusion.
“I was gonna propose last night after the interview but she pissed me off so much that I didn’t want to have you deal with my attitude during our date.” A small blush formed on his cheek as he confessed his plans to you, “Sae it’s not about a proposal. I don’t care if we don’t get married for another twenty years. I love you enough to wait…I just needed a moment.” “From?” He asked moving pieces of your messy hair from your face. “I don’t know, what she said really got to me, and it’s like…if she thinks that and will openly flirt and touch you knowing I’m watching then so does everyone else in the world. They don’t see me as your girlfriend, so what if one day you don’t see me as it either anymore yourself?”
A tear slid down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away hiding your sadness with a gentle smile. “Just forget I said anything.” He stared at you with that unimpressed neutral expression and it just made you feel little under his gaze. “Princesa, you are my entire world and I wouldn’t have been the man I am today without your help. Do you understand that my love? I love you.” He said caressing the sides of your cheeks with his thumbs, “sae I told you it’s fine. You don’t have to tell me you love me.” He pulled away slightly looking a little offended.
“Why are you saying that like I don’t love you?” “I- it’s just that you never say it so I never want to assume how you feel about me.” You said looking down at the ground not wanting to make eye contact with him. You couldn’t stop yourself, the words just came out. The two of you stayed silent for a while until he broke the silence, “go to bed. we can talk in the morning.” Opening your mouth to say something you quickly realized that Sae didn’t want to talk, your hand interlaced with his and you held him back from walking further.
“I didn’t mean anything rude by what I said. You have a hard time expressing your feelings and I understand that, I would never pin that against you. With everything going on with your career I want to be a supportive girlfriend so I don’t or shouldn’t have time to be crying over mean comments…but when I do, I just don’t want to bother you because it doesn’t mean anything. All they do is talk and at the end of the day I’m grateful to be in the position I’m in with your right now. I love you Sae and I know you love me.” You said smiling with several tears falling from your closed eyes.
A heartbeat of a moment passed and before you knew it Sae had his lips in yours and he was engulfing your whole embrace. He didn’t think you could do anything to make him fall in love with you more but you did. “Don’t ever cry by yourself again. We can’t get married if you don’t even trust me enough to share your burdens with me.” He kissed the top of your head gently smiling at the nod of approval from you then bent down slightly to pick you up and carry you back to the bedroom.
“Now really, let’s go to sleep. We have to get up in three hours to catch this flight.” You nodded and cuddled up against his figure.
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x mc#blue lock x you#bllk x y/n#blue lock sae#sae x reader#sae x you#sae itoshi x reader#bllk sae#itoshi sae x reader#sae fluff#sae imagines#sae x y/n#sae blue lock#itoshi sae#itoshi sae x y/n#itoshi sae x you#sae itoshi#blue lock sae itoshi#itoshi x reader#bllk x you#bllk#bllk scenarios#bllk x reader#bllk fluff#bllk itoshi sae#blue lock sae x you#sae smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
a/n: i am so proud of the boys and what they accomplished after everyone counted them out 💙🧡 can’t wait for next year when they’ve had a full training camp with patrick and they come back better than ever 🤍
tw: child goes “missing” for a brief moment, mild innuendo
word count: 2.9k
summary: the msg broadcast gets double the barzal men for a little bit
Offering to take the girls to the arena for a game seems like it’s a great idea until you’ve got Talia, both Martin girls, and Tulsa Horvat begging for pretzels mid-way through the second. Normally you’d have at least one of Syd or Holly with you, but since the outing is for Talia’s birthday, you’d thought it would be fine to just take the girls yourself. That you’d be a good friend, letting Syd and Holly have their Thursday night free, since all of your husbands are retired now and they don’t have to come to the arena if they don’t want to.
But Max is getting antsy and Talia is yapping your ear off - much like her father - begging for snacks.
“Mom, please, I’m starving,” she pokes her lip out at you in a pout and widens her hazel eyes. She looks unfairly like Mat when she makes that expression even though her general looks had shifted to favor yours as she got older. You’ve never really been able to say no to either kid anyway.
“Can you at least watch your brother while I go get snacks?” You ask, lifting your eyebrow and twisting your hair back into a slightly sloppy ponytail. Max swings his legs in his seat next to you, grinning at his big sister. His hat dips over his eyes and you make a mental note to adjust the strap.
Talia looks at you as if you just asked her to swallow a cup of live spiders. “Mom, please no! I don’t even know why we brought him, today was supposed to be for my birthday,” she whines a little, those pre-teen hormones working overtime. Two weeks from turning eleven, and you find yourself missing your baby girl more and more each day. She’s usually a pretty polite and delightful kid, but something about that upcoming eleventh birthday is creating that familiar teenage whine you’d been so good at back in the day. You should really call and apologize to your mother.
Max pipes up without taking his eyes off the action on the ice, “your birthday’s not even today!”
“Thank you, Max,” you hold a hand out in front of his face, covering his mouth, as Talia shoots him a glare. Max wiggles away from your hand, his head bobbing in every direction as he tries to see the players. “I should’ve known this would happen.” You pinch the bridge of your nose with your free hand.
The only reason Talia had picked this game for her birthday is because of Jack Cizikas’s last minute call up from the AHL. Her puppy crush on him is something you and Kristy like to joke about, but right now you’re not laughing. Casey, Kristy, Reese, and Cole are up in a suite with the grandparents for the moment and you should’ve just sent Max up there to join them, but your five-year-old is still a little clingy. He loves the Cizikas family, hero-worships ten-year-old Cole, but when you’d suggested it, his face had crumpled and he’d said, “I wanna stay with you, Mama!”
Who were you to argue with that?
“Okay, I’ll take Max with me, but Win,” you raise your voice and look down a few seats at Winnie Martin, the oldest of your babysitting charges at fifteen, “do not leave these seats until I get back, okay?”
Winnie grins at you, Matt’s smile copy and pasted onto her face. She gives you a little salute and nods, “you got it.”
Talia turns back to the girls, completely ignoring you, and you roll your eyes a little before holding out your hand to Max. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go get some snacks,” you say, savoring the feeling of his little hand in yours. You never know when he’ll start thinking he’s too cool for his mom, so you’ll enjoy it while it lasts.
“Can I get ice cream?” He asks, skipping along next to you. He gives Sparky a high five when you pass the mascot at the top of the stairs.
You laugh a little and point Sparky and his handler in the direction of the girls. “I’m sure Winnie will love to see you,” you say, nostalgia washing over you as you think about the early years of your relationship with Mat and Winnie’s love for the dragon. Sparky nods and gives you an enthusiastic thumbs up, before bounding down the stairs. It’s a different person in the costume now, obviously, but you all had made sure to keep Winnie humbled by making sure each iteration of the Sparky knew to stop and see her at a game. The teen plays along gamely, her mother’s daughter.
Max tugs on your hand, drawing your attention. “Mama! Can I get ice cream?” He repeats his request and you shake your head.
“Nope, sorry, kid. It’s past your sugar cutoff,” you shake his arm when he pouts and kicks his Nike against the floor, nearly tripping himself as he tries to keep walking. “I’ll split a pretzel with you though.”
“I don’t wanna pretzel,” he whines, dragging his feet as he traipses behind you. You dodge a few people, tugging Max along. He keeps whining a little, complaining under his breath, and you pinch at the bridge of your nose before squatting down so you’re at his eye level.
Max goes quiet, but his whole face scrunches up in annoyance and you smile softly. “If you have ice cream now, you’re not going to be able to sleep. And remember that Daddy’s coming on your field trip tomorrow so don’t you want to be well rested for that?” You raise an eyebrow at him while Max considers your explanation.
The line shifts forward while Max is considering and you smile awkwardly up at the family in line behind you, silently apologizing for not moving. The mother waves you off with a polite smile too. Solidarity.
“Can I have ice cream tomorrow then?” Max finally asks and negotiating with the tiny terrorist wasn’t on your to do list today, but you nod anyway, knowing it’ll bite you in the ass tomorrow.
“Yes, after your field trip you can have a little ice cream,” you stand up, knees creaking a bit, and move forward on the line. Matter settled, you hook your fingers in the back collar of Max’s Horvat jersey, worn because ‘Uncle Bo is the coolest!’ much to Mat’s annoyance and your amusement. At the self-serve counter, you grab five pretzels - even if Max doesn’t want to share, you still want a snack - and a Diet Coke, hoping for a quick burst of energy. You let go of Max’s jersey to fish your phone out of your back pocket and tap it against the reader.
“Okay, Max, back to -“ you cut yourself off, looking down at your side and not seeing Max. “Max? Oh, fuck. Where did he go?”
Your heart hammers in your chest, slight panic rising when you scan the concourse and don’t spot your kindergartener. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, the only thing keeping your panic at a reasonable level is the fact that Max was quite literally almost born in the arena and knows it better than anyone. Of course that also means he could be hiding literally anywhere and never be found.
“I…okay, think like Max,” you step off to the side, against the wall, so you can figure out what to do. “Where the hell is he going to go?”
The muffled cheers of the crowd filter through the arena, signifying that the Islanders have added to their lead late in the second. You smile faintly and, like a lightning bolt to the head, realize where Max wandered off to. Or where you hope he wandered off to.
You book it towards the Lab and the MSG broadcast set up, trying to see around the crowds of people that are leaving their seats now that the second period is over. Obviously, you can’t see anything around all the people and the closer you get to the main stairs, the more panic you’re starting to feel, thinking about the girls back at the seats and what you’ll do if Max isn’t with Mat.
Once the cameras and desk come into view, your entire body unclenches, Max is happily perched on Mat’s hip, chattering away with Shannon while Mat and Thomas discuss the second period’s play. The cameras are on and your son is broadcasting live on MSG. You wiggle your way through the little crowd of people around the set and get to the front, by the retractable belt barriers, and try to catch Mat’s eye.
The second he spots you, his entire expression changes, a delighted smile stretching across his face and his eyes crinkling up at the corners. He looks like a twenty-something again, not the nearly forty-year-old he actually is.
“Max!” You hiss, trying not to be heard. “Send him over here!” You wave your free hand at the duo, Diet Coke wedged under your arm and pretzels getting squished in your hand.
Mat shakes his head at you and Thomas and Shannon look over too, all three of them laughing. Mat turns back to the camera, Max smiling like the cat that got the canary. “My wife’s trying to get our broadcast sidekick back,” he says, laughing. Mat bounces Max in his arms. “But I think we’ll keep him around for his color commentary.”
“No, oh my god,” you shake your head and gesture for Max to come back to you. “Mat, stop it.”
“Max,” Mat turns to look at your son, totally ignoring you, “what did you think of the game so far?”
Embracing the fact that Mat’s going to let Max join them for a while at least, you sigh and relax into the moment, watching Max perk up as he gets to discuss his favorite thing.
“I missed Matt’s goal,” he complains, Matt Maggio must’ve been the one to score when you noticed Max was missing. “But I like Jack the best ‘cause he’s funny and plays mini sticks. And also he gave me a piggy-back all day at Easter.”
Shannon laughs and chimes in, “we like Jack around here too. But hey, Max, I can show you Matt’s goal while your dad and Thomas discuss some of the finer points of the game.”
Max wiggles out of Mat’s arms and darts around Thomas’s back so he can stand with Shannon and watch the goal he missed. You snap a picture of Max’s head poking over the desk, heart melting at the sheer excitement on his face. You also notice the dozen texts littering your phone’s screen - a multitude of laughing emojis sent from the girls while they watch at home.
The fans around you are clearly eating up Max’s presence and you feel a little spike of anxiety thinking about how exposed he is to the public now, after keeping his and Talia’s faces mostly hidden on your social media pages. It’s always a little inevitable that the kids are seen with Mat out in public, but you almost wish you could snatch up all the phones recording video and taking pictures of Max as he points something out to Shannon on the iPad.
You take a nervous bite out of your pretzel and try to just enjoy the moment until they go to commercial when you can duck under the belt barrier. Mat grins boyishly at you, grabbing your waist to pull you in for a quick kiss. “Well, this is fun,” he says, pulling back from the kiss. “Family broadcast.”
“He is so stupid sneaky,” you shake your head, offering Mat the pretzel that you’d taken a bite out of. He accepts it and tears off a piece of his own. “And fast.”
Thomas laughs, leaning his forearms on the desk. “That’ll be helpful when he’s zipping around defensemen and scoring goals,” he teases before going to say hi to the fans and take selfies.
“Mom, look!” Max pops up at your side, holding a puck. Where did he get that?
“Pretty cool,” you smile down at him and let Mat lift him back up onto his hip. Max’s long legs kick at Mat’s thighs. “Where’d you get that, bud?”
“From Dad when I got here,” Max chirps. “Can I stay? Cause I don’t wanna be with the girls.”
He cuddles up against Mat’s shoulder, the father-son duo wearing matching hangdog, pleading expressions on their faces. The day Mat taught both kids the look was the worst day of your life, weakening your already minimal willpower. This time you have to say no, interrupting Mat while he’s working is only cute for so long.
“Sorry, Maxy,” you reply sympathetically. “We have to get back to the girls, but we’ll see Dad right after the game.”
Max whines loudly, reminding you that he’s still only five, and you chew on the inside of your lip. Mat pats Max on the back and whispers something in his ear, the extra lighting catching on the few greys that are starting to form in Mat’s dark hair. You wait while Mat talks quietly to your son, trying not to worry about coming back from commercial while you’re all standing in the middle of everything. Eventually, Max huffs an exasperated sigh and wiggles out of Mat’s grip again, slumping his way over to your side.
You smirk a little, “gee, don’t look so thrilled to come hang with your mom.”
Mat laughs and you roll your eyes at him.
“I wanted to stay with Dad,” Max pouts, little fingers gripping tightly onto the puck. “But he said that he’d take me to the locker room if I go with you.”
“Bribery,” Mat winks at you. “A dad’s best weapon.”
The ten second warning that the commercial is ending blinks and you grab Max’s hand, “okay, time to go back to the girls. We’ll see Dad later, okay?”
Max waves at Mat as you guide him away from the set. “Bye, Dad! Don’t forget I wanna see Jack and the locker room,” he shouts and you can hear Mat’s laughter boom over the noise of the crowd.
“I won’t forget Max, be good for Mom,” Mat calls out.
You hurry back to your seats, Max hopping along and waving to people as you go. He gives big, cheerful greetings to the ushers and security guards he recognizes, forcing you to stop when Sparky passes by so he can give the mascot a high-five and a hug around the legs.
“Max, baby, please. We can see Sparky later,” you sigh, a little worried about leaving the girls alone for so long. You know they’ll listen and not leave the seats, but you feel vaguely like a terribly mother/babysitter since they’ve been sitting by themselves for nearly twenty minutes.
Max pouts, but takes a hold of the hand you’re holding out for him and dutifully follows you back to the seats. He clambers over the couple at the end of the row and you apologize quickly for him, making another mental note to work on the kid’s manners.
“Where did you go?” Talia pops up in her seat like a meerkat, wrinkling her face at you in confusion. “We thought you, like, got kidnapped!”
“We didn’t get kidnapped,” you huff, passing around the pretzels. The girls thank you and turn back to the on-ice intermission action. Max reaches for your half eaten one too and you’re glad you at least got a bite in earlier. “Max ran off to see Dad.”
Max grins at his sister, mouth full of chewed pretzel. “Dad gave me a puck and I got to be on TV with him,” he manages to sound smug and excited all at the same time, waving the gifted puck in one hand.
Talia pouts a little, still childish despite how she tries to mimic the older girls.
“Eat your pretzel,” you twirl your finger to get her to look back at the ice. “There are a thousand pucks at home. Oh,” you add, “we’re going to head down to the locker room after the game. Dad promised Max.”
That gets the girls going, chattering about how they get to see Jack and the rest of the players, giggling like crazy while huddled together. You lean back in your seat, smiling softly at how cute they all are. Max is on his feet, dancing along to the arena music, waving both hands in the air - your little party animal. You send Mat a video of him dancing, teasing that father and son have the same moves.
He shoots back a gif of himself dancing at the Martins’ wedding more than fifteen years ago, making you laugh out loud, drawing the attention of all five kids. “Ignore me,” you laugh, waving a hand at them.
Another message from Mat vibrates your phone: leave the kids with marts and syd when you drop the girls off after the game, i wanna show you more of my moves 👀
Giggling like a high schooler with a crush, you take a minute to appreciate that Mat still makes you feel floaty and dizzy with love. Over ten years together and he still makes your heart skip a beat.
“Mom,” Talia’s voice slices through your thoughts, “what’s Dad saying? Because you look so weird.”
Schooling your features into a more neutral expression, you lean forward over the seat and ask, “how do you guys feel about a sleepover at Aunt Syd and Uncle Matt’s?”
235 notes
·
View notes
Text
Blood Ties Chapter 2
Series Masterlist
Chapter Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore
Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙
You were doing up the buttons on your flannel when you heard Daryl grumbling behind you.
“I hate rubbers.”
You chuckled, putting your hands on the nape of your neck and pushing outward to coax your hair out of the shirt. The man had done as you asked all those weeks ago, returning to the next meetup with condoms in hand. You had left it up to him to dispose of them afterward, earning an amusing curl of his lip.
“So,” you began, plopping down on the ground, “guess what.”
Daryl zipped up his own pack and shrugged it over his shoulders, raising a brow at you with his usual expression of indifference. “We gonna start cuddlin’ after too?”
“Shut up. It’s not just every day conversation, asshole. I’m late.”
“Ya got a curfew now?” He scoffed, snatching his crossbow up off the ground to slide the strap over his right shoulder.
“No, idiot. I mean, my period is late.”
“How ya even keep up with that now?” He was still standing, fingers of his left hand tapping nervously against his hip while he chewed on the skin of his right thumb. Uncomfortable again.
“I always kept a little date book in my bag before things went to shit. Just started marking off days when we came up here. Hoping this would all end and life could go back to—well, being life.” You picked up a twig and started breaking small sections off, not really wanting to look at him. “I’m 6 days late, which is pretty odd for me.”
“I don’t need the details. D’ya need a test or somethin’?”
“I will if it doesn’t come soon, yeah.” You tossed the stick down and got to your feet, dusting off your hands on your thighs. “Probably should do it next week if it’s still not happening.”
The man was a ball of anxiety, fidgeting and shifting his weight from foot to foot. You watched him warily, waiting for him to bolt and that would be that. If you were pregnant, you’d be in it alone.
“I’ll make a run an’ see if I can find one.” He finally said after a few minutes of unnerving silence, shouldering his string of squirrels. You blinked at him, eyes as big as saucers. “What? Said we’d deal with it an’ I meant it.”
“I’ll go with you then.”
“Nah, I got it. Just bring it next week.” He sniffed, looking down at his boots as he kicked at the ground. “Ain’t no reason for ya to go out in that mess.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re being protective.”
He scoffed, scrunching his nose in a way you could almost say was adorable. “Just don’t need ya trippin’ me up.”
Pursing your lips, you crossed your arms over your chest, deciding whether or not to argue with him. It was something that involved the both of you. You’d feel horrible if something happened to him while he was trying to take care of it alone. And you’d never know. He’d just never show up again, leaving you to wonder if he had simply bailed or—
“I’m going too.”
“No, ya ain’t.” He snapped while you picked up your rifle and the three rabbits you’d bagged. You started walking, leaving him trailing behind you with his stomping feet and flared nostrils. “Ya ain’t goin’!”
“You gonna stop me?” You asked, not missing a step. You heard him pause before his boots moved faster to catch back up with you. “I’m a big girl, Dixon. I can handle myself.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
You only encountered two geeks at the base of the mountain. Daryl took out one with a bolt between the eyes while you handled the other with your hunting knife. His scowl was thoroughly in place by the time you were cleaning the dark blood from the blade with the bottom of your shirt. He didn’t say a word but he didn’t have to. You knew it was because you had to get close to the corpse to kill it. You couldn’t risk firing your gun when so many others could close by.
The two of you were crouched in the bushes, the pharmacy across the street in the little town in clear view. Three geeks shuffled aimlessly in different directions, making it difficult to find a way straight through.
“Maybe one of us could distract them?” You suggested. “I could go out over there, make some noise and draw them off while you go inside.” You looked over to find him staring at you like you’d sprouted a second head. “What?”
“You’re the one that knows whatcha need in there. I’ll handle the geeks.”
You really couldn’t argue with that. There were so many different tests for pregnancy, ovulation, and other things, Daryl would probably bring out the entire shelf and still not have what you needed. With a nod, you watched him make his way down the ditch, staying low. His eyes met yours briefly and, with a jerky nod, he left the cover of the foliage and whistled, waving his arms.
You waited for an opening, nearly leaping out before two more corpses stumbled from the alley next to the pharmacy. “Fuck.” Daryl was going to be sorely outnumbered. Something in your gut twisted, the strong urge to stay and help the redneck, ensure he was safe, before you entered the pharmacy. He’d have your head if you dared. With another curse, you left your hiding place and dashed across the street, your steps that of a hunter—swift and silent.
The pharmacy was blessedly clear, a few geeks sprawled out between aisles, clean holes in their skulls. Daryl had been there before. “So, this is where you got the condoms. You reckless son of a bitch.” You smirked, the knowledge that fucking you was enough fun to have him scurrying down the mountain for the means to continue.
You grabbed two of each kind of test, deeming labels and specifications unnecessary when Daryl was outside fighting the undead to keep them off your back. The boxes were quickly shoved into your bag, and you were creeping back toward the door. Just as your hand touched the glass, a geek stumbled by. You quickly ducked and moved to the side, peeking around the magazine stand to ensure it had passed before you pushed the door open.
There were at least 7 of them on the far end of the street, walking toward nothing you could see. Where was Daryl? You barely lifted a foot to step off the curb when an arm snaked around your waist and a hand clamped down over your mouth.
“S’me. S’just me.” Daryl whispered against your ear. Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you forced his hand away from your face and spun around to give him a shove.
“You scared the shit out of me!” You whisper-yelled.
“Got whatcha need?” He was already ushering you toward the trees across the street. You gave a sharp nod and ducked into the bushes, finally releasing a breath when you could look back and no longer see any trace of the town.
“Well, that was fun.”
Daryl snorted beside you, adjusting the strap of his crossbow on his shoulder. Once your heart rate slowed, you were able to settle back into your appreciation for the forest. So far, the turn had been unable to strip that away from you. The wildlife continued to flourish, seeing no difference between the dead and the living. Plants would grow. Flowers would bloom. Seasons would change.
In some ways, life would go on.
“Y/N.”
“Yeah?” You turned to find Daryl facing away from you. With a quick look around, you realized how long the two of you had really been walking. It was time to part ways. “Oh. Right. Heading back now?”
“Nah. Gonna see if I can bag a deer. So, ‘nother day or two.” He was gnawing at his thumb again.
“Right. Well. Three days, midday?” He nodded his agreement, those blue eyes of his flitting to your pack and back to you. You smiled through a strange feeling, pushing it down as he started to walk away. “See you then.”
“See ya.”
“Hey, daddy.” You smiled, finding your father sitting by the small fire when you parted the last bit of foliage to enter the camp.
“Peanut, you’re back late. I was gettin’ worried!” He shifted in his wheelchair to sit straighter, smile wide and arms open. You leaned in for his offered hug, holding up the rabbits when you separated.
“Got some meat for tomorrow.” You smiled for only a moment before looking around for the rest of your family. “Did they seriously leave you out here alone?”
“I’m fine, darlin’. Told ‘em to go on to bed and that I’d rather wait up for you.”
You gave him a pointed look, laying the rabbits aside to prep later. “Well, I’m here now. You should get some sleep.”
“It’s early yet. Tell me how it was out there.”
You sat down in one of the fold-out chairs, toeing at the rocks surrounding the small fire. “It’s quiet. It’s always quiet.”
“You see any of ‘em?” He asked, a hint of concern in his tone. You shook your head. “I worry about you going out all alone.”
“I can handle myself, daddy.”
“I know you can, peanut. I just—wish you didn’t have to. It’s a parent’s job to worry about their kids, you know.” He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back.
“You’re gonna give yourself gray hair with all the worrying. Oh shit, I think I see some from all the way over here!” You laughed with him for a while longer before the fire burned out and the camp was dark.
You bolted upright in your sleeping bag, still groggy and not really remembering why it was you were awake in the first place. Rubbing your eyes, you sat there for a moment before deeming it time to get the day started. The sun was barely up but your uncles were already stirring if the sounds outside the tent were anything to go by. Your aunt had taken watch several hours earlier so she’d probably be sleeping now.
Scratching at your scalp with a yawn, you glanced over at your open pack, the top corner of a box peeking out from beneath your jacket. You sighed, knowing you would need to take the test. You still hadn’t bled and you’d be meeting Daryl the next day. You groaned and grabbed your clothes, slipping on everything haphazardly while your uncles banged and clanged on everything they possibly could outside. Shrugging on your jacket, you unzipped the tent.
“Jesus, some of us are still half asleep! Uncle James, could you put on some coffee for daddy before—”
Just as you began to crawl from your tent, a geek came barging in, teeth clicking and rotting fingers grabbing. You screamed and scrambled backwards, kicking at the corpse while your hand searched blindly for your knife. Another clumsily shoved its way inside, pinning one of your legs and leaving you just far enough from your weapon that your fingertips brushed the handle.
Somewhere outside, your father was screaming.
Chapter 3
#murda writes#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#the walking dead#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl x y/n#daryl x female reader#daryl x you#daryl x reader#daryl drabbles#daryl dixon drabbles#daryl dixon imagine#daryl imagines#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x reader smut#daryl dixon the walking dead#twd daryl#the walking dead daryl dixon#the walking dead daryl#daryl#daryl dixon twd#daryl fanfiction#daryl twd#twd daryl dixon#daryl dixon angst
451 notes
·
View notes
Text
Want You Back | ateez x reader
Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader
Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?
Warnings for this chapter: none
Word Count: 1452 words
a/n: I'm considering this more of a filler chapter and the next chapter shall be the juicy one hehehehe. :') Enjoy! <3
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 6
At first, life continued to be monotone for the rest of the boys. The only difference was Mingi’s departure which added further strain on the already overburdened household. Seonghwa and Hongjoong were no longer on speaking terms after the dinner, as Seonghwa demanded Hongjoong to get his mom off their backs but the latter argued that he tried and he didn’t know what else to do.
“Well if you tried harder instead of fooling around with Lila.” Seonghwa accused.
“You’re really playing it like that? You were also hanging out with Lila a lot at one point to Seonghwa.” Hongjoong spat back.
“Yes and it was a big mistake on my part. She’s not my mate, Y/N is, and I’ll be damned Hongjoong if I lose Y/N because of your negligence,” Seonghwa explained, “Like really, why are you hanging around Lila so much? Don’t you feel an ounce of remorse?”
“I-”
This was the first time since a week and a half that the two oldest said anything to each other. But Hongjoong was cut off when he felt it - he felt you, and given Seonghwa’s wide eyes and surprised face, he knew he wasn’t imagining things. Both of them were snapped out of their dazes when Wooyoung screamed and there was loud banging and slamming of doors coming from upstairs.
The boys were confused and panicked. They felt you after so long but something wasn't right. It appeared to be like a call for help but they had no idea where you were. And Mingi was still gone too.
Chaos erupted. San paced back and forth, hands behind his back, a worried look plastered on his face. Seonghwa leaned against the window and stared outside angrily. He had a lot of thoughts swirling through his mind at the moment. Meanwhile, on the far end of the living room, Wooyoung and Yeosang sat on the floor with scattered books trying to figure out what was going on. Wooyoung chucking away anything that wasn’t helpful at Yunho’s direction, who alongside Jongho remained quiet but unsettled. Hongjoong sat in a chair with a blank expression.
And then there was Mingi, who stood outside the large mansion wondering if he could just go back to you.
Mingi wasn't sure how this was going to go. In all honesty, he didn't plan to tell them immediately when he got back. The way he considered this unravelling was more like: he might get some dinner first and then break the news over dessert or after dinner. It was a long journey after all. But now that the boys were aware, dinner might have to wait.
"Mingi." Hongjoong's father called from the front door.
He had just arrived to check on the boys and was astonished to see the tall wolf. He wasn’t expecting him to return so soon, but given Mingi’s expression, he knew something happened.
“Why are you standing outside like that?”
“Well…you see…” Mingi started.
Everyone's heads snapped to the front entrance of the mansion when the familiar aura walked in. In the foyer, Mingi stood with an uncomfortable look. He hated attention like this. Maybe he should’ve brought Chan for moral support.
Seonghwa rushed to his side, getting straight to the point.
"Mingi, you felt it too didn't you?"
Mingi only nodded.
"And!? Where were you!?" Wooyoung chastised.
"Calm down Wooyoung." Yunho tried to pacify the second youngest.
"Tell that to San. He'll make a ditch on the floor just now."
San stopped pacing and glared at the younger alpha before turning to Mingi.
"Seriously though Mingi, where were you? You left for a week and a half and then suddenly we felt a pull from Y/N?"
Where should I begin? Mingi wondered. He glanced briefly at Hongjoong who eyed Mingi carefully. Deep down Mingi had a feeling that Hongjoong may have already put the pieces together.
"I felt it too…” he began, “And she's okay."
All the other six pairs of eyes snapped in shock and astonishment at Mingi’s bombshell.
"She's...okay? Mingi did you—" Yeosang started.
"I found her, I've been with her for the past week and a half. She got cornered earlier by some rogues but she's safe now."
Suddenly, time felt like it froze for all of them. Like the slow movement from a sand glass, as the grains of sand leisurely and steadily move down, everything began to stir in slow motion as they processed what Mingi just said.
"You—you found her?" Jongho spluttered.
Mingi only nodded again.
"And? You didn't bother to tell us," Hongjoong vocalised, "What, were you only going to keep her for yourself?"
"Hongjoong." His father warned.
"No, it's a valid question Father. You said you needed time by yourself Mingi, but now suddenly, you’re telling us that you were with Y/N and you didn't notify us. This is how we find out."
"She was always sneaky." Hongjoong's mother condemned.
"NO!" Mingi warned loudly, "Mrs Kim, I have respect for you as you are an elder but please do not even think about slandering Y/N, she's been through enough especially from you."
Mrs Kim scoffed rudely, “How dare you speak to me like that!”
“He’s right,” Mr Kim announced, “There is no need for your input if you don’t have anything helpful to add.”
“You-”
Hongjoong ignored his mother and continued to interrogate Mingi.
"And what about us Mingi? We haven't been through enough? Seonghwa hasn't been sleeping, San and Jongho didn’t leave their rooms, none of us have been able to function. And Y/N didn't even try to communicate with us!"
"And why should she? Mingi asserted, “We never even listened to her when she was here, we weren't there for her, we wrote her and her feelings off every time. Really Hongjoong, are you just trying to run away from the fact that we failed her? Do you not want to take accountability? Is that why you’re running around with Lila?"
Hongjoong bolted upright to tackle Mingi by his shirt’s collar but he was held back by Seonghwa.
“What is it with you all and accusing Lila and I? What, I can’t have a friend to talk to?”
Mingi glowered at the pack’s leader. He had a feeling deep in his gut but he was hoping that it was wrong.
“We did," Yunho answered, “We did hurt her, and we weren’t there for her. I don’t blame her either.”
"Exactly and comments from Mrs Kim are not helping either,” Seonghwa responded, “She kept pushing Lila time and time again and we saw Lila more than we saw our actual soulmate. And we allowed it, we didn't stop to think that we should make an effort, we just expected Y/N to be there."
“You too Seonghwa?” Can’t you see that girl-” Mrs Kim began.
"He's right and that’s enough from you," Hongjoong's father commented, "Where is she now Mingi?"
"The human realm."
"What!?" All seven voices boomed through the room.
You were in the human realm? The forbidden realm?
"She's in the human realm and she's running a very successful café,” Mingi explained, “she's got a degree and I'm going back to her."
"Wait a minute, Mingi..." San started.
"I hope you will also decide to come. We all need to apologise. A friend of hers, Chan, he's a wizard and he helped me get here and is waiting for me to come back."
They felt empty. They pushed you away to the point where you built a whole new life without them in another realm. Besides Hongjoong though, the others didn’t blame you - they couldn’t blame you, they were the ones who alienated you from them. All they hoped right now was that you would at least consider forgiving them and give them a second chance.
Mingi looked at them with his eyes downcasted as he turned to leave.
"We owe it to her."
Meanwhile, you were restless. Any attempt to try and ease your mind proved fruitless. You paced back and forth, fiddled with your fingers and huffed in annoyance at yourself. You decided that maybe a change of scenery would do you good, so you grabbed your jacket and scarf to head out for a bite to eat. Maybe some soup would help. As you made a beeline for your cafe to ensure the security alarm was active and everything was safe and secured, you felt it again.
The magnetic pull just like the night when Mingi arrived. Looking around, you turned to the large window that always provided a picturesque view of the busy streets of Seoul.
But this time, on the other side of the window, there stood your eight mates.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tag list:
@eastleighsblog @sehun096rainbow @greensnakeglobep @satsuri3su @zonked-times @sugarrush-blush @lomons @explorewithd @chatsgotmytongue @scarfac3 @popcatx0 @angrynightnight @sannieluvrr @idfkeddieishot
#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ot8 ateez x reader#poly ateez x reader#ateez fluff#ateez series#poly!ateez
287 notes
·
View notes
Text
joel miller | survive
masterlist | taglist | ko-fi
words: 4.7k
warnings: 18+! not for minors! please please please read the warnings and skip this one if you're uncomfortable with the subject matter.
episode eight reimagining with the same hard-hitting themes: blood, violence, cannibalism, sexual assault, killing, abduction, vomit. reader takes the place of ellie. angst. hurt/comfort. no happy ending as requested because i wasn't sure that could exist in these circumstances, but there is now a part two where joel takes care of reader and the fic ends on a lighter note.
prompt: Hi! Would love to request something for Joel Miller 🥰 Angst but with a happy ending, after seeing episode 8 I thought maybe reader is with Joel and Ellie, but this time Ellie stays back to keep an eye on Joel so reader gets kidnapped and is the one Joel basically comes back from the dead to save? hahshxdjfbf I just imagine them reuniting and UGH 🥹❤️ Feel free to ignore this if inspiration doesn’t strike!
tags: @sweetbabygirlsworld
You’re terrified of losing Joel. So terrified that instead of watching him shiver and sweat on an old, bloodied mattress as his infection spreads, you opt to go out and hunt. It isn’t solely selfish. You need food, and Ellie needs to rest. At least this way you’re doing something productive rather than waiting for a miracle.
Still, it’s difficult to concentrate on anything but the knot in your stomach, the one that keeps asking “what if?” What if Joel doesn’t make it? How will you survive past that grief for long enough to keep Ellie safe? How will you go back to Jackson and tell Tommy that his brother is gone?
You’re lost in those thoughts when you hear the crunching of snow, and you try to shake them away, readying Joel’s shotgun as you search for the source.
A deer. It’s so beautiful that for a second, you forget that it’s supposed to be your next meal. You’d forgotten beauty still existed in a world so broken, forgotten that nature can still be kind.
But humans can’t. Not if you want to survive; not if you want Joel to survive.
You take a deep breath. Adjust your posture. Shoot.
The bullet doesn’t hit where you want it to; where you know you should have been aiming if only you weren’t so distracted. The deer darts away. Whispering a curse, you follow the trail of blood —
And find more than you bargained for. Two men wait with the dying deer at their feet. They look… clean. Comfortable. Not people struggling to find food or clothing. You raise your gun again immediately, and theirs point back at you.
“Put your guns down,” you order, trying to sound braver than you feel. You did alright before Joel came into your life, but it’s been a while since you’ve been alone and it’s hard to summon the strength that used to come so easy.
“You first,” the darker-haired man says, narrowing his gaze.
The fairer man glances warily before slowly lowering his. Good. At least one of them is smart.
“Not going to happen. On the ground. Kick it away.” You shift on your feet, gripping your gun tightly and readying your finger on the trigger. You don’t enjoy killing people, but you will if you have to. If it means getting back to Joel and Ellie.
“James,” the unarmed man says, calm authority firm in his voice. The one in charge, then. “Do as she says.” He holds up his hands in surrender as his friend, James, finally puts his gun away. “We mean no trouble. We’d just like to talk.”
“So talk,” you bite out, making no move to lower your own gun.
“Alright.” His breath is visible in the cool air, nose pink and runny. “My name is David. This is James. We’re from a town just south of here.”
“Good for you. Maybe you should go back now.”
An amused smirk twitches at his mouth. “Thing is, we have a lot of mouths to feed down there, and this deer… it would keep us going for a week. Maybe two.”
“Shame it isn’t yours,” you say.
A short sigh escapes him. “Right. It is a shame. But if I could offer you warm shelter and good food, a welcoming community, why couldn’t we share?”
You raise your eyebrows. “I’m not interested in negotiating.”
“With all due respect, ma’am… as far as I can tell, you’re all alone in these woods. There’s no reason why you have to be.”
It’s clear the other man, James, isn’t in on David’s kind offer. His mouth is pursed in a thin line, jaw grinding as though he’s holding back from saying something. Welcoming community, my ass.
Still, an idea strikes. You need something else more than you need the deer, and if this town has supplies… “You have medicine in this town of yours?”
David hesitates before dipping his head. “We do.”
“Antibiotics?”
“Yes…”
Hope swells in you for the first time since Joel was injured.
“If you put the gun down, we’d be much more open to discussing what it is you need,” he continues. “Please?”
Gulping, you slowly lower your gun — but you keep it in your hand just in case, stomach still filled with unease. Not every settlement will be like Jackson, and there’s something… off about these two.
“If you get me that medicine, you can have the deer.”
“We can do you one better. We have a nurse down in the village who can help you with your injury. If you just come with us…”
“No,” you say. “You’ll bring the medicine here, to me.”
Another strange smile. “You’ll be much more likely to survive the winter if you let us help you.”
Impatient, you raise your gun again. “Bring it or stop wasting my damn time.”
David lifts his hands again. “Okay. Alright. James, go and fetch what the lady needs.”
“David—” James begins to protest, but is quickly cut off.
“Go on now.”
Reluctantly, he does, and then it’s just the two of you.
“I know a place you can get warm,” he offers. “It’s just through the trees. An old greenhouse. No need to wait out here in the cold.”
It makes your gut twist, how he seems to be determined to get you moving, to take you out of these woods. And there’s a glint in his eye, something untrustworthy there — even his right-hand man seemed to see it. Nobody follows orders like that with pure reasons. He’s… scared, or at least threatened.
“I’m fine just here.”
“Okay. What’s your name?”
“I’m the one holding a gun, which means I’ll be the one asking questions. How many people are there in this town of yours?”
“Forty. Like I said, there’s room for one more. Perhaps it was God’s will, us meeting today.”
Oh, good, you think. He’s a God botherer. You didn’t particularly subscribe to religion before the world turned to shit, and you sure as hell have better things to do than pray now.
“Unless you’re not alone.” His voice seems to lower as though he knows something, and you stiffen instinctively. “Is the injury yours?”
“It’s none of your business.”
He no longer seems to be staring down the barrel of your gun, but right into you. “Because a few of our men had some trouble a few days ago. A man, a woman, and a young girl. Man was thought to be badly injured, you see. If he lived… well, I’d imagine that kinda wound would be susceptible to a nasty infection.”
He knows. He always knew. The raiders you crossed paths with, the ones who hurt Joel…
You no longer feel like the one holding the gun. You feel like the deer bleeding on the snow between you. Prey. Still, you set your chin. “I don’t know what you mean. I travel alone.”
“See, I believe you, but the thing is… my friend, James… he’s not so certain. I’d imagine that once he comes back with that medicine, he’ll be rounding up a few men to go hunting for these people. If what you’re saying is true, I wouldn’t want you to be caught in the middle of that. That’s why it’s much safer you just come with me now, see?”
Your upper lip curls into a warning snarl, finger twitching on the gun’s trigger. But if you kill him, you won’t get Joel’s medicine. You’ll lose him. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Hmm.” He debates this. “There’s a third option.”
“Not interested.”
“I think you are,” he pushes. “I think you’re one of them, and I think you’re trying to help your man. Very noble, but strange. You don’t seem a good match. You’re so… young, so calm, and from what I hear, he’s dangerous. Ruthless, even. A cold-blooded killer. Maybe if you come into town with me now, we can arrange for that medicine to be delivered without my brigade charging in and doing some damage. There’s a place for you. Your daughter, too. You don’t need to be tied to him anymore.”
You want to scoff, or else laugh in his face. Does he believe you’re that simple, that stupid? Does he believe you’re a fucking damsel in need of saving?
Anger simmers in you at the thought. “I think it’s about time you shut up.” You point the barrel at his head now, right between his brows.
He doesn’t balk, doesn’t tremble, doesn’t so much as blink, and you’re beginning to understand. He’s the type of man who uses religion to veil whatever monster lies beneath. He isn’t some small-town do-gooder, though he might believe it.
You dread to think what he might be capable of.
“I think it’s about time you drop your weapon.” The voice doesn’t belong to David. It comes from behind along with the feeling of cold metal against the back of your skull. You risk a glance over your shoulder to see the man from before, James. You should have heard him creep up, should have seen, but you were so focused on the one in front of you.
Your heart thunders as you realise you might not get out of it this time.
“We only want you to come with us,” David says, eyes round with feigned innocence. “That’s all. We don’t want to hurt you.”
“The gun to my head says otherwise. What would God say about this?” you retort, dripping venom because it’s all you have left.
A strange sadness crosses David’s face. “It didn’t have to be this way.”
Before you can pull the trigger, something heavy slams into your skull, and then darkness swallows you whole.
***
You wake in a cage, the taste of blood on your tongue and your wrists bound by rope. David is on the other side of the bars in what looks to be a kitchen, utensils hanging on the wall. Great butchers’ knives and cleavers wink at you in the watery daylight. You go cold with fear, crawling to the furthest corner of the cage.
“Let me go,” you say. “Let me go!”
“I’m sorry. It’s for your own good,” he says. “You were corrupted, but I can help you see the light again.”
“Why are you doing this?” You’re choking on a sob, thoughts of Joel and Ellie running through your mind. What if they found them? Joel is in and out of consciousness and Ellie can’t fight on her own.
David curls his fingers around the bars. “It’s God’s will. I was meant to meet you today. This is where you’re supposed to be.”
“In a fucking cage?” you spit, voice echoing around the kitchen. You pull at the rope until your skin splits, crying out when you realise this is it. There’s no way out. You’re trapped, and you have no idea what this man truly wants with you.
“This is merely a precaution,” he says. “I was wrong about you before. You are dangerous too. You have a dark heart, just like me. If you would just surrender, you could be part of this community.”
You squeeze your eyes closed, clamping down on a plea. You doubt it will do any good. Still, tears roll down your cheeks. “Fuck you,” you whisper.
“You don’t understand yet. You will.” David takes a step back, and somehow the prospect of him leaving you here causes your stomach to turn to water.
“Don’t do this,” you say. But he walks away with a glint in his eye that promises he will be back, and you’re left alone.
Dizziness rattles through you as you pull yourself onto your feet, testing the sturdiness of the bars in hopes you’ll find a weak spot. But it’s padlocked closed and the screws are in tightly —
Something catches your eye, pale and fleshy on the kitchen tiles.
An ear.
In the kitchen.
You vomit without warning as it all comes together. You wonder if the community even knows that their leader feeds them people. Wonder who was last in this cage and how long it took for them to become a meal.
You scramble against the ropes again and pray — not to whatever fucked up God David worships, but someone — that you find a way out.
***
“Joel!” Ellie shakes him frantically and finally he comes to. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his face drawn and pale, but he finally ate something earlier and she’s been keeping him hydrated as he drifts in and out of sleep.
Now, he frowns and hums in question.
“Y/N isn’t back. She didn’t come back, and now people are here.”
The sound of shuffling outside is only growing louder, and she keeps her voice to a whisper as fear grips her. It’s not like you to go more than two hours without checking in, even if you haven’t caught anything for dinner yet. That four hours have passed means something is wrong, and Ellie doesn’t know what to do, how to find you. She needs Joel. She needs you.
“What?” Joel struggles to sit up, the mattress groaning under his weight as he clutches his injured stomach. But he’s alert, awake, and that’s better than he’s been in days.
“She isn’t back,” Ellie says again, voice trembling now. “Someone’s here, Joel. They know about us.”
Understanding clears through the fog in his eyes slowly, and he looks up as he hears the floorboards creak above. “Shit,” he curses, dragging himself slowly to his knees. Ellie watches, pulling out her own gun. “Hide somewhere. Let me deal with it.”
He’s in no fit state to deal with anything, but when Ellie protests, he shushes her and orders her to do as he says, so she does. And as he readies himself for a fight he can’t win, panic rushes through him. You’re not back. Somebody is here.
He’s failed again, or at least is about to, and this time it’s you he’s afraid to lose.
He summons that anger when the silhouette slowly stalks down the stairs. Summons it a lot more when he’s throwing an arm around the idiot’s neck to squeeze the life out of him.
***
Joel has forgotten his injury. He’s forgotten anything but you; the thought of you alone, in danger, afraid. His fingers curl into fists at his side, and when the attacker finally rouses, he orders Ellie to leave the room. He doesn’t want her to see what comes next; who he becomes when he’s trying to protect the people he loves.
Nausea twists through him, but it mingles with anticipation. Some sick excitement. He’s good at being violent. Better at being vengeful.
“Where is she?” he asks, voice just steady enough to be assertive.
The attacker mumbles something, and Joel’s patience quickly dwindles.
“Who are you?” he asks, louder now.
The attacker shakes his head. Doesn’t want to play.
Joel brandishes his knife.
The attacker’s eyes widen in fear as he presses the point into his finger, ignoring the throbbing in his stomach. “You want to do this the hard way?”
“I'm not telling you anything.”
Joel tilts his head and clenches his jaw. Then in one swift motion, he’s gripping the arms of the chair the attacker is tied to, quivering with anger as he towers over him. “Last chance.”
The attacker purses his lips, and Joel steps back, watching him sink in relief — relishing in that false sense of security. Then he throws the first punch, the impact of fist to jaw singing through his bones. He shakes out his hand, punches again. Blood splatters, but he goes again twice more just for good measure, growing weaker with every blow. He stops when he realises that, knowing he needs to conserve his energy to get to you.
“Where the fuck is she?” he bellows.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about!”
He plunges the knife into the attackers knee, the sound of bone crunching and flesh squelching as blood dribbles down his jeans and the attacker cries out. That’s when he begins to beg. That’s when Joel knows he’ll tell him anything.
“Alright!” he’s whimpering. “Alright, please!”
“Tell me where she is or I swear to god, I’ll pop you’re fucking kneecap off.” Joel drives the blade deeper, thirsty now. Desperate. He can’t do this without you. He needs you safe. If he finds out you’re hurt…
“With David!” he blubbers. “She’s with David in town!”
“What tooooown?” (oh, you thought I wouldn’t?)
“Silver Lake!”
“Who the fuck is David and what does he want with her?”
“He…” the man chokes on his own sobs again, and Joel tugs on the knife, earning a piercing scream. “I don’t know what he wants, okay? He’s the leader! He… he took to her, I don’t know!”
A chill crawls down Joel’s spine and his vision blurs as he pauses. His blood-drenched fingers tremble, and he doesn’t know how to make them stop. “What do you mean, he took to her?”
The man spits out blood. “He likes her. Wants her to join him. I don’t know, man. I don’t know. I told you everything.”
Joel wants to tear him apart then and there, but he pulls out his map, yanking the knife from the man’s knee to put the hilt in his mouth. The attacker howls, tears streaking down his cheeks. Joel wants to tell him he’ll do a lot fucking worse if he finds you harmed. He wants to say a lot of things, but cotton fills his mouth and he needs to find you. He needs to stop wasting time. “Point it out to me.”
“It’s not a real town. It’s just a fucking community. I don’t know.”
Joel grips the man’s collar, and his voice falls deathly low. “Point it out to me or I’ll make sure your other knee matches.”
It’s enough motivation for the attacker to pinpoint a spot. His blood stains the map, highlighting a small valley between the forest and mountains.
Joel puts the map in his back pocket and slits the man’s throat before he can beg for his life. He’s not feeling merciful today.
***
David comes back for you an hour later. “Have you reconsidered?”
You only glare at him, your wrists bloody and your eyes gritty from so many shed tears. To your surprise, he unlocks the cage. Despite your better instinct, you stay seated, stay calm. You won’t get out of this if you try to run now. He has the upper hand, and you’ll let him have it, hoping his arrogance, his underestimation of you, will be his downfall.
“You must be hungry,” he says. “Come. Let me show you what I can offer.”
Shakily, you rise from the ground. “Will you at least untie me?”
“I’ll think about it.”
He leads you out of your kitchen. When he’s not looking, you lean your back to the table and snatch an abandoned knife, slipping it up your sleeve.
The front of the building is laid out like an old, cheap restaurant and bar, candles burning and booths lining the windows.
“I’m glad you’ve calmed down,” he says. “Now we’ll get a chance to know each other properly.”
Slowly, you begin to saw at the rope with the knife as he leads you to a booth. Two plates are set at the table, a candle lit in the middle, and you think about the ear on the floor. Wonder if the meat in the stew is not animal, not your deer. You want to throw up again, but you swallow down the bile in favour of relief: the rope has snapped. You keep your hands behind your back as you shuffle in your seat, trying to avoid looking at the meal. The smell of it makes your stomach turn.
“What do you want from me?” you ask finally.
David places a napkin on his lap. “I’m showing you hospitality. Hospitality you haven’t earned, might I add. Where is your gratitude?”
“Where the fuck is my medicine?”
Without warning, he stands and slaps you, and you can’t control your anger as the sting prickles along your cheekbone. You throw your plate at him, the food splattering his face and staining his shirt, and then you run.
A mistake. He hauls you back quickly, and the two of you topple to the floor as he slams your wrist down, forcing the knife away. He pins your hands and then straddles you, and you know what comes next. You know, and you shouldn’t, and this isn’t happening.
“You need to be taught some manners,” he croons, taking your chin in his hands. “A girl like you… you need to learn how to submit. Especially when we’re married. But don’t worry.” He leans down as you squirm, whispering into your ear, “We have time for that.”
“No!” You shout, slapping him away and doing your best to wriggle away. But he’s heavy on top of you, and he’s reaching for his belt, and there’s no way out. No hope. Nothing. “Get the fuck off me, you sick bastard!”
He slaps you again, lash twice as hard this time, and you taste blood.
You refuse to let it end like this. You refuse to let him destroy you. You let your body go slack as he unbuckles his belt, reaching out a hand and scrambling for the knife again. It’s under a chair not far from you — you just have to wriggle a little further.
“It’s sad that you can’t accept that this is how it’s supposed to be. This is God’s will. You and me… we’re the same, underneath. We have the same violent heart,” David is muttering, and there, your fingertips brush the hilt. Determination renewed, you extend yourself again and this time the knife falls into your hand.
You don’t have time to think; he’s unbuttoning his jeans, and like hell are you going to spend another moment beneath him. You drive the knife straight into his neck, and his eyes bulge as he gurgles on his own blood. As he goes limp, you push him off you — and stab again, again, again, spitting every bit of revenge into your movements as his blood covers his skin and your clothes.
“You twisted fucker!” you’re yelling, tears rolling down your face as the shock draws in, the disgust. He’d been so close to taking you. So close to making you a victim after so long spent fighting to be a survivor. “Go to fucking hell!”
You only stop when the fear numbs and you realise he’s no longer moving. Blood soaks both his shirt and yours, and you push yourself off him. His dead, milky eyes stare at you. When you catch a candle guttering in your periphery, you grab it. Crouch with it in your hand. Light him on fire. The flames spread along his clothes, and that’s how you leave him.
Ashes. Bloodied, dead ashes.
***
Joel and Ellie have fought their way through a blizzard. He’s surprised he’s still upright, but he saw bodies hanging in the stable and he can’t collapse now. Not for Ellie, and not for you. This community is built on something worse than infected or fascism, and when he found your jacket, your backpack, in that same room as the corpses…
He can’t see anything but red and white.
Ellie stops behind him suddenly. “Did you hear that?”
“What?” He catches his breath, looking around. There’s a long building close by, but he hasn’t seen any movement yet.
A scream rents through the air, and he knows it’s you. His heart picks up, stomach plummeting as he runs around to find the entrance. And there you are, collapsing out of the doorway.
He says your name as he catches your wrist, and you instantly cower away, screaming. “Please, no! Please, don’t!”
He’s never heard you beg for anything before, and his world tilts on its axis. What the fuck have they done to you?
“Baby, it’s me!” He draws you close, cupping your jaw with his palms. Your eyes are haunted, face pale, and there’s blood. So much blood. You’re still fighting him, pushing on his chest, and he stumbles back. “It’s me. Look at me. It’s me, darlin’. It’s Joel!”
Your breaths are ragged as realisation finally dawns across your features. “Joel,” you whisper.
“It’s me,” he says again, eyes filling with tears.
Your gaze moves to Ellie, and only then do you crumple. He catches you just before you fall to your knees, straining against his injury. “Oh, baby. Oh, baby girl,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m here now. I’m here now. You’re okay.”
Sobs wrack through you and he wraps his arms around you, holding on so tight he worries he might hurt you. But you clutch his shoulders just as hard, fingernails digging through his coat. You shake beneath him, and his own tears drip onto his cheeks. He pulls away quickly to look you up and down. Blood streaks through your hair.
“Where are you hurt, baby? Tell me where it hurts.”
You shake your head. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know, Joel. I don’t…”
It’s like you’re not even here with him, and he wants to break. But he has to stay upright for you. He has to be strong for you. He shrugs his coat off quickly and puts it around you, catching sight of your reddened wrists as you adjust the collar. Those bastards tied you up. Hatred drowns him, and he looks at the building you emerged from only to find orange flames flickering in the window. It must have been you, he knows, and he can at least feel proud of you for that, but still, the thought of what they might have done...
“Alright. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He pulls you to his chest, offering his other hand out for Elllie. She takes it, looking shaky as she carries both her bag and yours.
“They were… They were eating people, Joel,” you say, voice thick and unrecognisable. “I just wanted to get medicine, and they took me. They took me. They were eating people and he was going to… He wanted…”
“I know,” he murmurs, holding you tighter. “I know.”
You stop without warning. “They said they had medicine. You… We have to go back.”
“No, no, hey.” He laces his fingers through yours. “We ain’t going back there for anything.”
“The infection—” you protest.
“Look at me. I’m here. I’m okay. I just needed to rest is all. We don’t need any medicine now. We just need to get you somewhere safe.” His heart pangs. The fact you’ve been through hell and are still willing to go back to help him… sometimes he wishes you weren’t so damn selfless. He should have been the one protecting you today. It’s his fault you’re here. His fault you’re hurt.
You scrape your hair back and then, looking at your shaky fingers, seem to finally see all the blood. “His blood is in my hair.”
He can at least be relieved it isn’t your own, but the look on your face… he’s never seen so many scars written in one expression.
“I need to get it out. I need…”
“We’re gonna. We’re gonna help you clean up soon, okay?” He tucks your hair away, lost, because he doesn’t know how to do anything else. Doesn’t know how to make it all go away. “I’m so sorry, baby.” His voice cracks.
Your chest heaves with a stifled sob as you rub your hands and look out towards the lake. “Oh, god.”
Joel closes his eyes, wrought with regret. At his side, Ellie turns her gaze to the floor. It’s his worst fear come true. The reason he’d tried to get Tommy on board with taking Ellie the rest of the way.
He’d failed again. Was always failing.
All he can do is hold you close as you fall apart.
#joel miller fic#joel miller#joel imagine#joel miller imagines#joel#joel x reader#ellie x joel#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller hbo#the last of us#the last of us hbo#the last of us spoilers#tlou hbo#joel miller angst#joel miller one shot#pedro pascal#tlou cast#the last of us fic#hbo the last of us#joel the last of us#the last of us joel#tlou series#the last of us imagine#the last of us oneshot#tlou imagine#tlou one shot#tlou fic#tlou show
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Helium (Alexia Putellas x reader)
A/N: This is chapter 6 of The Legacy Series.
You laid on your sofa debating whether or not to call Alexia. This seemed to be happening a lot recently but given that you had been out for breakfast together you wasn’t sure if she would want to see you again.
Things had been going really well between the two of you, both on and off the pitch. On the pitch you had officially found your groove having scored 11 goals in the last 7 games. Off the pitch you find yourself in an unfamiliar state of happiness. Days off were never spent alone and you no longer made table reservations for one as Alexia joined you in your goal of eating at every restaurant and drinking at every coffee shop in Barcelona.
Your thumb hovers over Alexia’s contact before hitting the call button. It rings 4 times before you get her voicemail. You see this as a sign that you should get an early night so you do just that. Besides, you have training in the morning so you only have to wait a few more hours until you can see her again.
Only the next morning you arrive at Joan Camper and a certain midfielder is missing.
“Oh Y/N” Mapi grabs your hand pulling you towards her table in the canteen “You know why Alexia is late don’t you? The two of you are always together so she will have told you something”
You could think of many words to describe Alexia but late is not one of them, especially not when it came to training. This was reason enough for concern but you didn’t want to worry the rest of the team so you chose to lie.
“She had a photoshoot this morning but don’t worry she’ll be here in time for us to destroy her at the fitness test” you hoped your joke would help cover the lie and to your relief it was.
Alexia did turn up to the facility albeit it 2 1/2 hours after training had started. The rest of the team didn’t think twice about it given you told them she was going to be late but you on the other hand wanted to know why she was late.
The two of you partner up for the next drill and it gives you the opportunity to question her away from the other girls.
“Is everything ok?” You ask her.
“Thank you for covering for me this morning. It won’t happen again” she dodges the question and you recognise the avoidance technique all to well.
“Ale” you grab her hand and pull her to the side of the pitch.
“What are you doing? We are in the middle of training” Alexia looks around and sees that you have caught the attention of a few staff members.
“And we will go back to that in a minute. Talk to me? Has something happened?”
“I’m fine. I overslept”
“That’s a lie” you call her out without hesitation.
“It is” Alexia mumbles as runs back onto the pitch where the rest of the team are waiting for you.
For the rest of the session it felt like Alexia was avoiding you and only you. Every so often you would catch her eye, she would hold the gaze for a couple of seconds, flash a quick smile and then turn away. At least you knew she wasn’t ignoring you.
Alexia’s behaviour continued for the next couple of days and every time you asked her about it she found a way to change the subject. You started to worry but after talking to Mapi & Jenni you learnt that sometimes Alexia does this. She goes quiet and pulls away but it doesn’t last longer than a week.
“Alexia please wha—“
You don’t get the chance to ask her what is wrong yet again because you are interrupted although this time it isn’t by the Spaniard it is by Lieke.
“Y/N your mum keeps calling me because you won’t take her calls. Care to explain?”
This gets Alexia’s attention. Over the time she has known you she has learnt that you are very close with you mum so that fact you are ignoring her calls is a concern.
“It’s fine. I’ll handle it” you try to keep your response as short as possible.
“Is it about the thing?” Lieke speaks in code given that you are not alone.
“She just wants to check in and make sure I’m behaving here in Barcelona. You know how she gets” you joke.
“You’re lying” Alexia know you well enough to know when you aren’t telling the truth.
You found it ironic. Here Alexia stands calling you a liar when she has been lying about what’s been going on with her for the last week.
“It’s what we do, no?” You want to get a reaction out of her. You want her to admit she that has been keeping something from you but she doesn’t. Instead she mumbles something incoherent before walking away.
“She wasn’t calling to check up on you Y/N. She wants to go if you plan on going back to Amsterdam for the event” Lieke didn’t speak up when Alexia was around but she did want to talk to you about it now.
“I’m not going. I’ve told her this multiple times but she keeps pushing. I’ll tell her to stop calling you”
“I’d go with you. I know its been a few years but I had fun when you took me to the last one”
“I’m not going Lieke and you know why”
You went home that night in a much worse mood than you wanted to. Something was wrong with Alexia and you just wanted to help her but she was determined to shut you out. Then there was your mother who took the word persistent to a whole new level.
The team had the next 4 days off, now normally you would have made plans with Alexia but you hadn’t had the chance so you try to call her to see if she was up for doing something only her phone goes straight to voicemail. One ring and she declined the call, it stung.
The next morning you text her to tell her you’re free if she wanted to do something. By doing this the ball was in her court, all you could do is wait and hope that she replies. Hours pass by before you admit that Alexia isn’t going to call but you’re not willing to waste the day at home so you decide to go to the training ground. You had a lot on mind over the past couple of days but your mind was calm whenever you were on the pitch.
You’re not sure how much time has passed but you know it must have been a few hours because the groundsman turns the flood lights on. When you arrived he told you that you could stay as long as you want, the man was a saint and often helped you sneak into the grounds when you weren’t suppose to be there.
Out the corner of your eyes you see two people and you can tell they are female by their silhouettes. You are in two minds as what to do; go to them and possibly get in trouble or pretend you didn’t see them and hope they go away. When you see them walking over you prepare for the worse but as they get close you recognise them.
“Y/N” Eli says as she gets closer.
The sight of the two Putellas women causes a pit to form in your gut. Alba stands quietly to the side of her, her eyes red from recent tears.
“Hi. Is everything ok?” You ask fearful of an honest answer.
“Have you seen Alexia? We have been trying to get in touch with her all day. She always comes here when she needs an escape”
Why would Alexia need an escape? Could this have something to do with her recent behaviour?
“I haven’t. I tried calling her last night and texted her this morning to see if she wanted to something today but she didn’t answer. Eli, is Alexia ok?”
“We don’t know” this is first time Alba looks directly at you and the heartbroken expression is enough for you to reach out for her.
“Are you ok Alba?” Your hand rests on her shoulder in hopes it would bring some kind of comfort. You hadn’t spoken to her since that day at the stadium but she was Alexia’s sister which means you cared for her.
“I need to find my sister. Will you help?”
“Of course. How about you go back to her apartment to see if she has come home and I will see if I can find her, I can think of a few places”
“Gracias Y/N” Eli says.
This sounded a lot worse that you original feared. At first you thought you had done something to Alexia or that she wanted space like you did a couple of months ago. Now you knew this wasn’t the case and it in fact had nothing to do with you.
As you drove home your eyes scanned the streets hoping and praying by some miracle that you find her but it was wishful thinking. You enter the code to the gate and what you are met with isn’t something you expected. Alexia is sat on your door step, her knees tucked into her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She looked so small.
“Alexia, what are you doing here? You mother and sister are worried about you” you scold her but instantly regret it when she looks up and you see her face. Tears were falling down her face and given the puffiness of her eyes they had been for quite a while.
“Come here” you hold your hands out and pull alexia into your arms. Her body shakes as she seemingly lets go of the emotions that she has been bottling up for god knows how long. “I’ve got you”
In order to open the front door you have to let her go but you keep a hold of her hand. Once inside Alexia is back in your arms. You care deeply for this woman but only in this moment did you realise just how much. Seeing Alexia this broken breaks your heart.
“I’m sorry” Alexia pulls away and tries to wipe away her tears only for you to stop her. She didn’t need to hide her pain, not around you.
“There’s nothing to apologise for Ale. Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just want to know what I can do to help”
“You’re already doing it” the smile that appears on her face is weak but nevertheless it is a smile.
With her hand in yours you lead her to the sofa and wait for to be ready to talk about whatever it is that has her so upset.
“It’s the 10th anniversary of my dad’s death”
“Oh Alexia” you rubbed her thigh soothingly.
“I didn’t want to come to you because I knew that it would bring up feelings for you too, how could it not. I know I’ve been cold towards you but I knew you’d recognise my pain and I wanted to try and get through the week. I just wanted to be alone, I always do”
It’s moment like this that you realise just how similar you and Alexia are. You both had the same coping mechanisms for your grief, as unhealthy as they might be.
“Yet here you are, with me, in my house, after sitting on my doorstep waiting for me to get home”
Alexia cannot help but laugh. Her actions and her thoughts did not align in the slightest. Deep down she knew why she came to you, today but she wasn’t ready to admit what it meant.
“I just needed to escape”
It’s as if a light bulb goes off and you cannot believe what you are about to suggest.
“How much of an escape?” You ask her.
“This city is too much right now so I’ll go anywhere, why? What do you have in mind?”
“Something I hope not to regret”
You could feel Alexia’s breath on your shoulder as she watches you open your contacts on your phone. She doesn’t see who it is you call but the opening sentence of what you say next gives her the answer.
“Hallo mama. Ja ik kom. Ik heb twee kaartjes nodig.”
The call is short and sweet for two reasons. One, you wanted to give Alexia your full attention and two, you didn’t want to answer you mother’s endless amount of questions.
“C’mon, I’ll help you pack”
“Y/N wait” Alexia runs after you as you make your way to the front door “Where are we going?”
This is why Alexia came to you. You knew what to do to help her when she didn’t know what to do herself.
“I’m taking you home”
“No, I’m not ready for that yet” Alexia’s grabs your hand and pulls you back into the house.
“Not your home Alexia, mine. You showed me Barcelona through your eyes and now you get to see Amsterdam through mine”
This time Alexia’s smile is wide. You were taking her to Amsterdam, the place that you told her so many stories about.
Only 24 hours ago you were adamant that you wouldn’t be attending the annual Johan Cruyff foundation gala yet here you are on your way to Alexia’s apartment so you can help her pack. You may not want to go but you knew this is exactly what Alexia needed.
#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas one shot#woso x reader#woso one shot#woso imagine#barcelona femeni x reader#barcelona femeni one shot#barcelona femeni imagine#espwnt x reader#espwnt imagine#espwnt one shot
545 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Woman. My Woman. My Wife.
Title comes from this song:
Request: All the sihtric fics😭 just fluff…mingled with angst. I just know he’s the most attentive lover ever. Always bringing flowers, making you laugh(bc his one liners are hilarious), sharing his furs with you… but I know he must have a temper. And he’s always gone away for so long. Poor rat boy probably thinks he’d be a terrible husband because of how often he’s gone for long periods of time. But he’s not😭 he’s the best husband ever. Anyway I got carried away, just all the sihtric things
@canyonmoon-2 I really hope I did your idea justice xx
Warnings: Details the loss of a baby and the grief in the aftermath of that loss. If that isn't for you, or it's too traumatic please don't read, protect your peace and you can catch me next time xx
Not proof read but mistakes will be corrected in time.
Requests are open:
The ride back to Winchester seemed to be taking longer the closer he actually got to the city.
He was beginning to feel lightheaded with dizziness at the thought of seeing you again.
Sihtric was besotted with you, had been from the moment he laid eyes on you, catching your eye across the square, hauling your cart of produce to sell at the market.
At first he was too shy to even look you in your eye as he paid for apples he didn’t even need, but as soon as your fingers accidentally brushed, he couldn’t help but delight in the shy smile that you shot his way, as you wished him to have a good day.
He couldn’t help but offer to escort you to your homestead that night, he had claimed it was to keep you safe but instead it was to steal a few more moments with you, you had walked in easy silence until you suddenly stopped and turned to face him.
“You haven’t told me your name.” you giggled and Sihtric’s face lit up “You’re walking me all this way and I don’t even know your name.”
“You would let a man you don’t know walk you home and you never even thought to ask his name. A pagan man at that. What would your nailed god say?”
“I know you are one of Uhtred’s men,” you considered.
“And that is the only reason you would allow me to accompany you?” Sihtric teased.
“That is the main reason, but I do have others,” you teased back.
“And what would those other reasons be lady?” he quirked his head to examine your face and you smiled, that gorgeous smile his way again.
“Perhaps we should start with your name first,” you giggled and goddamn it Sihtric wanted to get down on his knee right then and there for you, “I am Sihtric, lady,” he smiled, suddenly shy and you considered him for a moment, “I am y/n.”
And so that became your weekly routine, Sihtric would walk you home from the market and you would chat easily. He would linger awkwardly outside your home, neither one of you wanting to say goodbye until the day when he got a sudden surge of confidence, Thor knows from where and sprung forward to press his lips against yours. You absolutely melted into his touch and giggled when he pulled away, his whole face lighting up with a smile, “I have been waiting weeks for you to do that Sihtric,” you giggled and for good measure he kissed you again.
“Sihtric, you barely know her,” Uhtred warned.
“I know enough lord,” he uttered shyly and Gisela considered him gently.
“You love her,” she eased after a while and Sihtric’s face broke out in a smile again.
“And she loves me. She tells me all the time,” he rushed before his cheeks lit up crimson with embarrassment, and Gisela couldn’t help her amused smile.
She reached a hand to Uhtred who frowned her way at first, a silent conversation happening between their eyes.
“Very well Sihtric, you may marry your lady,” he sighed but Sihtric had already taken to running.
“Thank you. Thank you lord,” he shouted over his shoulder and he was away to find you scooping you into his arms, peppering kisses to any part of your skin he could reach.
Sihtric was the most attentive man you had ever known. He loved you in ways you hadn’t even known possible. There was not a single moment you were together that his hands were not on yours. You joked that he should climb inside you and live in your skeleton more than once, but you had a feeling that he would’ve if he could. Opting instead to be inside you in the only way he could, as many times a day as you would allow, and you would never refuse him.
Nobody had ever loved Sihtric, no one had ever been tender with him. No one had ever shown him that he was worthy of beautiful things and you vowed to spend every day of your life proving to him that he did.
Gentle hands traced scars and kissed the parts of his skin that had been broken by his father’s cruelty and sometimes the feeling was so intense for Sihtric he could barely bring himself to look you in the eye.
“What is it love?” you murmured pressing kisses to his his worried brow.
“I have to go away with Uhtred again.”
“To battle?” you asked gently, caressing his face.
“To battle,” he confirmed.
“Sihtric, you love being a warrior. What is this about?”
“I don’t want to be without you. To go back to how it felt before I knew you. The darkness…”
“I will be here waiting for you. Right here,” you took his hand and placed it over your chest, “Feel my heart, know it is real and it belongs to you. I will be here, loving you.”
Sihtric surged forward and pressed his lips to your needily, feeling reassured that his woman would be waiting for him.
You had built a wonderful life together with Sihtric, and you were happier than you had been in your life, but Sihtric struggled with leaving you every time.
He was weary from the ride but the thought of you pressed him forward.
As soon as he and Finan dismounted, Finan urged him to come for a drink in the alehouse but Sihtric was furiously shaking his head and excitedly told him he was away to find his wife.
He burst through the door of your home, flowers in hand, calling your name but the smile slipped from his face when instead of being greeted by the sight of his wife, he was instead greeted by Hild.
“Where is she Hild?” he almost shrieked, panic coursing through him, making it hard to breathe.
Hild squeezed his arm gently and as reassuringly as she could, but her face was grave, and she led him through to the bedroom, where Sihtric collapsed down to his knees by your side, the sight of your deathly pale skin and gaunt face, enough to send him into a spiral.
“What is it? My love? My Life?” he was begging, stroking your hair, he wanted to pull away from the coldness of your skin. You were always warm, his warmth his sunshine.
“It was a little boy,” you whispered weakly “We had a baby boy, Sihtric.”
His head was reeling, he hadn’t even known you were pregnant before he left, nor had you.
“I couldn’t keep him,” you suddenly cried, giant sobs wracking your weak body, “I lost him. I lost him.” you were hysterical and all Sihtric could do was crush him to you and wrap you up in his arms.
Sihtric held you, letting you cry on him until you had no tears left, repeating that he was sorry, he was so sorry, and none of this was your fault, and when your eyes finally slipped closed he allowed his own tears to fall.
Hild took him into her embrace when he finally re emerged from the bedroom, and they made their way outside, where under the shade of a leafy oak, he found the small arrangement of burial stones, that he threw himself upon and wept.
“She insisted we honour your traditions,” Hild finally broke the silence. “I had Gisela’s help, but she arranged the stones herself, nearly killed herself in the process.”
“Will she live?” he finally mustered the strength to beg.
“She is very weak, and if god..if the gods are good, she will live,” Hild reassured
“She has to,” Sihtric whispered “Or you may as well place me here with my boy.”
You regained your strength over the next few weeks, slowly and with the help of Hild and Sihtric. Sihtric never left your side, fetching you food, bringing you extra furs to keep you warm and at night, he pulled you as physically close as possible, lamenting the loss of your warmth, for now you always felt cold to him.
But soon you were back on your feet again, well enough to walk, well enough to have Gisela and Uhtred over for dinner and well enough to make love to Sihtric for the first time in weeks since he had got home.
Sihtric was wound tighter than a leash the past few days, his face constantly pulled into a frown lately, and no matter how much you tried you could not seem to pull him from the depths.
“What have I told you?” he snapped suddenly, and you lowered your gaze to the floor, “You are my woman, there is no need for you to do these jobs anymore. I will do it!” he snapped.
You had been attempting to help him ready his horse, as you had done a million times, lifting his heavy saddle bag up to attach to his saddle.
You watched him silently as he roughly threw his things together. You were rarely on the receiving end of Sihtric’s temper but lately you seemed to be finding yourself under it more and more.
He made to mount his horse and you couldn’t help the phrase that fell from your lips.
“You blame me for his loss?” you stated but it was more like a question.
Sihtric stilled all action, but he did not turn to face you.
“That is why you cannot speak to me with tenderness these days. Is it not?” your voice was small and you fiddled with a thread on your sleeve.
“If you cannot love me anymore. If I cannot make you happy, then I set you free. I told you the night we first made love that you deserved to be happy, and If I cannot do that for you, I set you free. I set you free because I love you more than anything on this earth and I cannot bear you to be this unhappy”
“How can you still love me?” he snarled, turning to face you, wild eyed.
“I was not here. I left you alone. I left you to endure his loss alone,” he was clawing at the skin on his left forearm, leaving fresh nail marks, an old habit from when Kjartan would lock him in the cellar, knowing a beating or some other form of humiliation was coming his way. If he hurt himself first, the next hurt would never be as bad.
“Set me free because you would be better off without my weight around your neck. Set me free so you may find a man who can love you the way you deserve. A man who will never leave you alone another second of his life. But do not dare set me free because you love me. I do not deserve your love, not now and I certainly never did.”
You reached for him, but he pulled his arm from your grasp, your head reeling from his lack of tenderness.
“If you leave me now Sihtric, in this moment here, that will be the only time you will have abandoned me. The only time you will have left me when I really needed you.”
Sihtric looked at you conflicted, two mismatched eyes trying to frantically find the right thing to say.
“I can’t forgive myself,” he finally mumbled “And to think you could ever believe that I blame you for his loss. There is only one person at fault here and that is me. Because I cannot promise that I will never leave you alone again.”
“I knew who you were when I agreed to marry you. I knew you then, as I know you now and I know for every time you leave me you will always return.” He finally allowed himself to be pulled into your arms, and you tutted at the unmistakable scratches on his arm, he had been hurting himself for a while.
“Oh my love,” you cried “All this time I have thought you were blaming me, but you have been burdening yourself with the blame of this loss.”
Sihtric nodded in your arms and you traced your thumb across the scar on his face, before placing a gentle kiss to his lips.
“Neither of us are to blame my love, the gods were cruel.” he nodded in your hands finally allowing his eyes to soften, boring into yours and when he looked at you this way, you could always see the small, skinny boy who only ever knew hurt, fear and humiliation but never love.
“Talk never of setting me free again my love,” he begged, closing the distance to lean his forehead against yours “My place, my only place is here by your side. My woman. My woman. My wife.”
Tagging: @canyonmoon-2 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @shamrockqueen thenameswinter99 foxyanon
#sihtric x reader#sihtric x you#sihtric kjartansson#sihtric fic#the last kingdom fic#volklana writes
159 notes
·
View notes
Note
a matt oneshot where estrella is 14 and has her first panic attack
First Panic Attack - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n Oneshot
warnings - anxiety, panic attack, this made me sad for ellaaaa, cute after, sorta short, swearing, angst, also sorta same storyline as my last fic
—————————
8:37pm
“Well i don’t know what you want me to tell you, Matt. It’s not my fault you work all the time and barely come home to see our daughter, or our son for that matter.” I throw my hands up.
Matt and I were arguing because our 14 year old daughter, Ella, didn’t want to spend anytime with Matt. Mailo didn’t really care, he loved spending time with Matt even if it was only a little.
Matt scoffs and shakes his head, “Don’t fucking blame this on me, y/n. You know i’m seriously busy, and you know that if I could take time off, i would.” Matt argues.
I lean against the kitchen sink, crossing my arms. “Do i? Do i know that? Because Chris told me you just got an offer to take two weeks off but you said you didn’t need it.”
Matt looks at me, swallowing harshly. “So what, you’re keeping tabs on me?” He accuses.
I let out a laugh in disbelief and start to walk away.
“Where are you going!?” Matt raises his voice.
“Away from you! I’m not crazy, Matt! Of course i’m not keeping tabs on you, i talked to chris and he let it slip!” I yelled.
Matt stays silent and scratches his head.
I scoff, “Yeah don’t fucking say anything. I am done with the lies, i am done with the excuses, and i am done waiting for you to be a father.” I point at Matt as we stand in the door way between the living room and the kitchen.
“I am a great father!” Matt yells at me.
“Oh yeah?! Well you sure don’t fucking act like i-”
“Dad! Mom! Somethings wrong with Ella!” I hear Mailo yell from upstairs.
Matt looks at me before shoving past me and rushing upstairs.
I follow after him, rushing upstairs. Matt opens Ella’s door to see her on the floor crying with her head in her hands, Mailo sitting on the floor next to her.
My heart breaks for my daughter.
Matt sits on the floor next to Ella as Mailo gets out of the way. “Talk to me, baby. What’s wrong?” He rubs her back.
Her breaths were scattered as i walked in, pulling Mailo back softly.
“What’s wrong with her, mom?” Mailo asks me.
I hush Mailo as Matt stays next to Ella, waiting for her to speak.
“M-mom?” Her voice cracked, her breaths were uneven as she choked on her own sobs.
I teared up and took my hands off of Mailo, moving on her left side while Matt was on her right, “Yeah, baby? I’m here.” I also put my hand on her back as she took heavy breaths, her breaths sounded like a rock skipping on water. It was heart breaking.
“G-get dad out of the room.” She said, her voice was harsh but quiet.
Matt looks at me, a pained expression on his face. “What?” Matt breathes out.
“Matt, you should go.” I say in a hushed tone.
Matt scoffs. “But-”
“Mom, get him out!” Estrella yells as she buries her head in my chest, crying as her whole body shook in my arms.
“Matt, get the hell out!” I yell, tears filling up in my eyes.
Matt clears his throat and nods, “Come on, Mailo.” He hurries Mailo out, shutting the door as he leaves the room.
Estrella let out multiple sobs, “I can’t stop shaking- mom! W-what’s going on!? Why can’t i breathe?” Estrella freaked out.
I hold her tightly, “You’re having a panic attack, Ella. It happens and it’s okay but you need to think about something else.” I tell her.
“I can’t, mom!” Her voice cracks as she her body racks with sobs.
I let out a sigh, “You don’t tell me about school anymore. What’s going on with that?”
Her fingers claw my shirt, “W-what?” She lets out another cry.
“Any boys? any girls? anyone i need to know about?” I keep going, hopefully distracting her enough.
“No girls. There’s this guy- jason. He’s really sweet, and i like him. But i don’t think he likes me.” She says, her voice was quiet but her breaths and cries were slowing down.
“Is he cute?” I ask.
She lets out a laugh, “Mom!”
“I’m curious!” I defend.
Her smile drops slightly as she comes to a realization that she’s okay now. “It’s gone now.” She says, taking her head away from my chest but still in my arms.
I nod, “Do you wanna talk about it? About what got it started?” I ask softly, my fingers brushing through her hair.
She shakes her head and looks away, looking guilty.
I sigh, “Is it about Dad and I?” I ask her, i figured it was.
Estrella looks at me and nods.
I look down for a second.
Estrella sees my look. “I’m sorry, mom- it was stupid, i-”
I cute her off, “It wasn’t stupid, baby..” I trail off for a second as i shrug. “It was reasonable. What happened?”
She plays with her fingers for a second, “I don’t know.. Mailo came in my room and said you guys were fighting again, so i let him in and we tried watching TV. B-but i don’t know, i just started crying- and then everything went blurry, and then i-”
I hushed her as she almost started crying again.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” I kissed her forehead.
We sat in silence for a couple seconds.
“Can i ask why you wanted dad out of the room?” I asked, one hand tracing circles on her back and one still brushing through her hair.
She shrugged, “I was mad at him…” She trails off for a second before taking a breath. “I am mad at him..”
I nod.
Estrella speaks again, “He’s never home anymore, i miss him a lot. A-and so does Mailo but Mailo doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t want dad to be mad at him.” Ella admits.
I shook my head, “Whether you like it or not your father is always gonna love you guys.. He could never be mad at you guys.. especially for having feelings like a human being. It’s okay to feel like that, Ella.” I tell her.
She nods, “But he probably hates me now ‘cause i kicked him out..” She says in a quiet tone.
“I’m gonna be honest with you because you’re older. He probably is upset, but he doesn’t hate you. Why don’t i talk to him first, then you can say what you want to? You can tell him how you feel.” I suggest.
Estrella shakes her head rapidly, “I can’t, mom! He’ll be so mad at me!”
I hush her, “Ella i’m serious, i’ll stay in the room with you guys. He won’t be mad.” I say.
She sighs and nods, “Okay. Thanks mom.” She says.
I kiss her forehead, “Anytime.” I smile before standing up and helping her up too.
I open Ella’s door and walk out into the hallway, opening Matt and I’s room door.
“Ella, you’re okay!” Mailo jumps off the bed that him and Matt were sitting on.
“Of course i am you dork.” She replies.
I laugh, “Alright guys go do something else and play nice.” I ruffle Mailos hair.
“I’m gonna get the good controller!” Mailo yells, running downstairs.
“Come back here you jerk!” Ella chases after him.
I laugh before shutting our room door after walking in.
Matt was sitting on his phone, him biting his nails.
“Matt..” I say softly. Sitting on the bed next to him.
I put my hand on his shoulder but he shrugs me off.
“Stop.” He says.
I shake my head, “Please, talk to me.” I plead.
Matt turns off his phone, putting it on the nightstand.
He sniffles, “W-why doesn’t she want me anymore?” He lets out a sob.
I put my arms out to him and he immediately hugs me as i rest my back against the head board, his arms going around my torso and his head into my chest as his body lays in between my legs.
I run my fingers through his hair, “Oh baby..” I mumble, kissing his head.
He let out soft cries into my shirt. “I know i’ve been a bad father- i just don’t know what to do anymore..” He cried.
I hushed, “You haven’t been a bad father.. i’m sorry i told you that. You’re an amazing father- Estrella just told me she misses you.”
“A-and it’s my fault, because i didn’t even take off time for my own children. I’m a horrible person..” He sniffled.
I kissed his head once more, “You aren’t, Matt. Trust me, she loves you so-”
I get interrupted by a knock on our door with it opening.
Estrella peaks her head in, “Dad?” She asks, her voice soft.
Matt shoots up, wiping his face with his hands and sniffling. “Yeah, sweetheart?” He answers, trying his best not to cry.
Ella comes in and sits on the bed as i watch, keeping my word on staying in the room with her.
She clears her throat, “I’m sorry for kicking you out of my room. I didn’t mean it. I love you so much and you’re the best dad. But i miss you, a lot. A-and Mailo does too, he’s just to scared to admit it.” She confesses.
Matt nods and sniffles, “I know, baby. A-and i’m so sorry, let me make it up to you, yeah?” He suggests.
Estrella laughs and nods.
Matt looks at me, “Pizza?”
I laugh, “Sounds good to me.”
Mailo then comes in the room, “I want pizza!” He barges in.
Matt laughs and ruffles Mailos hair.
—————————
i hope you guys like this one because i know i did !
taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe
#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#spotify
195 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hiii again!!
can I make a request about g!p minji x reader fcking in the library?
I got too excited with this idea😁
Secret crush.
You have been struggling in school for the past two months due to some family issues and just life has been exhausting and draining, you weren’t dumb you just needed a little break and someone who takes care of you. From the start of the school year you have been getting decent grades, they were good but if we compare it to the amount you study for you should definitely get better grades, that really did unmotivate you because what do you mean someone who didn’t even touch a book will get a better grade than someone who pulls all nighters, skips meal just to study and never skips a class?You are happy for them but still there is a little unpleasant feeling inside you that you can’t deny ,And on top of that your family starts complaining about you not trying hard and not getting full marks. So you thought about what is the point of trying hard but still not reaching?
The way your grades dropped made your teacher really unhappy because you definitely weren’t dumb in fact you were very intelligent so she decided to talk to you and try to convince you to get a tutor and maybe she can help you choose one.
“___can you stay a little after class, we need to discuss something?”
You were tired and wanted to go home, you wanted to deny but what if she has something important to say?
“Sure” you replied with tired eyes that anyone could literally notice that you hadn’t been getting proper sleep for days, and yeah you don’t even remember when you last had that 10 hour uninterrupted sleep.
Class ended faster than usual, once all of the students went out of the class the teacher sat you down and took a deep breath before starting to talk.
“___ has anything happened home or do you have something going on that is not very pleasant…since your grades been dropping and I’m wondering what’s the reason and if we could try to fix it?” She spat, she really didn’t want to express her thoughts in a hurtful or negative way so she tried to sound as kind as possible.
You took an exhale before speaking “miss everything is going fine at home it’s just that I’m very unmotivated towards school and my mental health overall is not really helping with school” you spoke trying to sound as ok as possible even tho tears are starting to well in your eyes, recalling everything that is happening and all of your family problems.
“I see, do you think if we could ask a student to tutor you so you could perhaps make friends at the same time while studying do you think that would help you a little? And ___ you are nowhere near stupid you just need a little push and that will get you started all over again and I care for you, you are one of my favorite students here, always kind and enthusiastic to learn new things so seeing you like this really does hurt me.” She uttered in the most comforting tone ever, you smiled at her request and nodded because maybe that will make your school life and mental health better “a tutor could work!” Your teacher smiled warmly at your answer “then I will look for a tutor” she said, she lastly bid you goodbye and you went home a little smile on your face knowing that you have a new start and could improve.
The next week the teacher gave you the name of the student who will tutor you and when will you meet, the first lesson would be in the library. Damn, you haven’t been there for a long time you thought to yourself. You checked the paper that the teacher gave you once more and you looked at the name again “Minji”. You have heard the name before but the image of the person didn’t really click. You decide to pick a place near the entrance of the library so as soon as minji steps inside she could see you, you dont think she even recognize you but let’s just hope for the best.
You waited silently for about seven minutes till you saw a girl with a school uniform, your school never restricted what the students wear but that’s what she is comfortable wearing, now the image clicked, She is minji! You have never interacted with her nor your friends did but she was known for having one of the best grades in school if not the best. She was quiet,didn’t really have much friends, a bookworm and kinda cold or perhaps a better word distant? You always saw her with a book in hand or had her head deep down writing something. She didn’t really put much effort in socializing but one thing undeniable about her was her beauty she was that handsome type of beauty. You waved your hands at her you were maybe too excited she just walked towards her expression hard to read, she always had a resting face.
“I was kinda late, sorry” she spoke a little cold it gave you chills, is she always this serious? You didn’t expect any type of laughter or giggling but a little smile wouldn’t hurt anyone!
The tutoring session went pretty smoothly she told you the basic stuff and you immediately got the hang of it, like the teacher said you weren’t stupid you just needed someone to take interest in you. It was very silent, yeah a library is supposed to be silent but this maybe was too silent. You looked around and saw no one near you or even far away from you. You looked at the entrance of the library and there was no one even the bored librarian wasn’t there you looked around a little more and there was literally no one. A panic immediately started to hit you, you can’t be stuck in here seriously. Minji saw how uncomfortable you were and decided to give you a little hug whispering “hey calm down, we are going to get out of here. Let’s call someone” minji maybe was too calm about this whole situation but deep inside she was having a little panic attack. Yeah she didn’t show much emotions but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about people’s feelings, she just couldn’t express with words but her actions did.
You called the school principal and he said that they will come get the both out while waiting you decide to make a little chit chat to burn some time and comfort you a little. “I know this might sound weird but have you had any crush” this was the basic middle school dudes question while playing truth or dare but in this situation you didn’t honestly care, If she wants to think your weird then so be it. “Yeah” she answered tone little softer now, as a nosy person you couldn’t help but ask who, “oooh do you mind telling me who?” You said to excited, she gave you a little smirk making a point below your stomach tingle “what about I will describe it and you should guess, I’m pretty sure you know them” she said in a seductive voice immediately shocking you seeing the new side of her, your not complaining tho it was pretty hot. “Why not, tell me” you said too excited. “Hmmm well she is a girl, she is very gorgeous and adorable, she has never interacted with me before but did now and Uhmm her mental health hasn’t been the best which was secretly hurting me. I have always admired her from a far” she uttered scooting closer to you. Her description definitely had some suspicion in you, deep inside you wanted it to be you but the chances of her licking you were very very slim. “Uhm I don’t…know, please tell me” you stated. She was so close to you now, “hmm sure why not” she brought her face near you inches a part. Your breath hitched and you closed your eyes, she brought her plush lips to your pair and soon you felt something kissing you softly, when she moved her lips from yours, you were shocked a good shocked tho. “Did this tell enough, princess or…?” She questioned looking deep into your eyes, intoxicating you with her pair of eyes almost like hypnotizing you and before you knew you grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her into a deep kiss passionate and warm. She immediately kissed back, placing her hand on your upper back and gently laying you down. She took her skirt off revealing her erection, and damn, was she big? She was huge and her length being hard doubling it size. Without much of thinking you grabbed it touching it earning a groan from her, she was thick and had girth. You went on your knees and saw how her tip was filled with precum. Your tongue exploring her tip and length, her precum was very creamy but salty. Her hand found its way to your neck and squeezed it “don’t tease doll!” Her breath hitched. You tried to take her in one go but she was too big. She gave you a dark giggle full of lust “too big for you baby?” You tried to take her one more time but you gagged uncontrollably while coughing. But still you wanted to please her so you started sucking half of her length, bobbing your head around it. Soon after she started twitching inside your mouth, breath getting faster and moans getting louder. Without warning her thick white salty cum filled your mouth. She looked you in the eyes “swallow it, all of it” and as a good girl you obeyed her, swallowing her release. She was satisfied,way too satisfied. “On all fours baby, mommy is going to reward you for being so good” the excitement of her words flood your brain and your body immediately reacted to her, taking off your pants and panties leaving you with only an oversized shirt. And getting onto all fours, she groaned seeing how obedient you are for her. She couldn’t wait anymore and gave you her whole length, not even letting you adjust to her, immediately thrusting passionately hitting spots you never thought existed. Bumping into your g-spot and to spots people never even named. Her ruthless pace never cooled down if anything it only got rougher, with few more thrusts and few ass reddening spanks your release flood all over your thighs. Her relentless pace didn’t stop, the way you got now tighter made her eyes roll back and a hitched groan came from her “fuck baby so tight”. With how clenching you are around her length it didn’t take her long to feel her high close. Few seconds later she pulled out and white sperm got released on your back.
#new jeans x reader#new jeans x fem reader#new jeans minji#kim minji smut#kim minji x reader#kim minji x reader smut#new jeans minji x reader#minji smut
224 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
blamethebutterfliespoetry
Blame The Butterflies
kiwis990
kiwis :)
myjohnlocklibrary
Sherlock Fic Recs
kocker00
Untitled
thefemaledrizzy
ur big sis