#the gifs would have been all over the place and these were fun to make
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Face to Face (III)
Fridolina Rolfö x reader; Alexia Putellas x reader (platonic); Barça x reader (platonic)
Summary: your Barça teammates swoop in to save the day (or at least they do their best)
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: okay don't kill me but Frido isn't in this much... enjoy some sweet Barça hurt/comfort to make up for it because she'll be back soon. as usual everything is pure fiction and written in good fun! PREVIOUS PART
Warnings ⚠️: medical description, slight angst
"Hola Nena," Alexia said in a hushed voice as she came into your hospital room. Laura and Zećira had left earlier that morning with your mom, assuring you they would be back later in the evening.
Alexia had a stuffed giraffe and a small bouquet of yellow roses in hand, and she looked at you with soft eyes. You smiled at her weakly, the light in the room dim enough that the subtleties in her face were blurred. If you focused too much on them your head began to hurt more intensely.
"¿Cómo estás?"
You gave her a thumbs up, pleased with the smile you got out of her.
It was quickly replaced again with concern as you winced, a sharp pain searing behind your eyes as she set a vase down on the windowsill for the flowers.
"Has anyone else been over to visit?"
You knew it was Alexia's subtle way of asking if Frido had come. As far as you knew Alexia was in the dark as to your relationship (or lack thereof) with the Swede, but you could never be sure with her.
"Laura… Zećira and Magda came right after the game."
Alexia nodded. She took the giraffe and placed it on your chest, shaking it a bit as if you were a child she wanted to entice.
"You know you'll be out of training for a bit, sí?"
"Sí."
You weren't pleased with it, but there was no denying that you needed the rest. You could barely bear to open the blinds for now.
"Jona agrees, you should stay with someone when you get home. A few of the girls have spare rooms, so there's options. Ingrid and Mapí offered, and of course you can stay with me if you want."
You thought for a moment, letting Alexia's fast Spanish sink in. Your brain felt sluggish, as if everything took thirty seconds longer.
"If you don't mind… maybe I can stay with you?"
Alexia put a hand over yours, smiling brightly.
"Of course. I'd be happy to have you."
You chuckled.
"I'm not sure I'll be much fun for the next few weeks."
Alexia shrugged.
"It doesn't matter to me, we all take you how you are."
A comfortable silence fell over the room, and you began drifting off. Alexia promised to stay while you slept, her hand protectively on your calf as she studied up for the next Barça game.
Cómo está la alemana? Alexia saw her phone light up with a text from Mapí. She quickly snapped a photo of you asleep, frowning at your coloring and the wires that monitored your heartbeat. It was just a precaution, but it reminded one of how much worse this could've been.
Sleeping. She replied, attaching the photo.
Her head? Mapí replied immediately.
Not good, but not horrible. No training for a few weeks. Doctor said it was a serious concussion, but not severe.
Alexia watched as the three dots indicating Mapí was texting popped up, then disappeared, repeating a few times. Finally, just the message.
I'm glad she's okay.
Alexia knew there was much more weight behind that text than met the eye. You were vital to Barça—every player was, of course. But you had a kindness in you that helped glue the team together even when things were falling apart. Everyone was fond of you, and those you seemed to have chosen on the team (Mapí included) as your close friends cherished that. It was as if you had shone a light on them just by being around.
Alexia thought just of how much your Spanish had improved in the past few months. You spoke better Spanish than most of the international players—and it wasn't just because you had some kind of propensity for language. Alexia had seen you studying in your free time, listening to podcasts, practicing. She asked you once, why you did that; you replied that you simply wanted to understand them better.
That was how you were, thoughtful and kind and lovable. And it hurt everyone on the team to see you hurt—particularly because there was an added element of complexity with it having been Frido who caused it.
"Alexia?" Your groggy voice called out, "can you hand me my cup of water, please?"
"Of course, Nena."
Alexia watched as you drank slowly, and sat by as a nurse came in to examine you. She checked your pupils again, and didn't look pleased.
"I'm going to ask the doctor to order another round of scans, just to double check that no bleeds have popped up that we didn't see before."
"Why?" Alexia asked, concerned. She didn't feel equipped to deal with this totally on her own, especially with the doctor speaking English so quickly, with seemingly no time to explain or guide her through things.
"They're worried I've got a bleed in my brain because of how I fell, Ale." You explained to her.
"I thought they already checked that?" Alexia replied, trying to keep her Spanish slow enough for you to easily understand.
"Sometimes things can only show up on the scans after a little while, because they start so small. I hurt my head when I was younger in a similar area, so they're being extra careful."
Alexia rubbed her temples, worry increasing massively. She turned to the doctor.
"Will she be able to come home, still?"
"If the scans come out clean, then yes. She can be taken back to Spain." The nurse looked to you and asked in German, "you have a doctor there, yes?"
You nodded.
"She will need to be checked again in a little while, and monitored. Does she live with anyone?"
"She'll be living with me." Alexia assured the nurse.
A little while later, the doctor came in and wheeled you off to the CT scan. Alexia was not allowed to accompany you, so she stayed behind, waiting for you in that empty room. Suddenly it truly hit her how serious things could've been. There hadn't been more than a few bruises on you, so it wasn't as easy to understand how hurt you were. ACL, meniscus, these were things Alexia knew. Head injuries? Those certainly felt more daunting.
"María?" Alexia spoke into the phone.
"Alexia? Is everything okay?"
Alexia bit her lip, wishing she could keep herself in check a little more.
"Alexia?" Mapí repeated.
"Yes, sorry, yes I think so. They took her for more scans and it just… I don't know, it hit me."
Alexia heard Mapí speaking to someone in the background.
"Is someone with you?"
"Sí, Ingrid is here, and Pina and Patri are over for a movie. But I stepped out, so talk."
"The doctors were talking about brain bleeds and surgery, and I just couldn't handle it. She was so calm and I felt like I was freaking out…"
"Brain bleeds?" Mapí exclaimed, fear in her voice. Alexia heard something in the background. "Does she need surgery?"
"They don't know if she has one yet. The first scan was clear but apparently they can take a while to be visible."
"Dios mio… one moment, Ale, Ingrid is demanding I tell her what you're saying."
Alexia listened in to the faint mumblings from the other line, looking at the floor. There were raised voices and then a few more joined in, and Mapí returned.
"You're on speaker now, Ale."
"She has a brain bleed?" Ingrid’s voice appeared, a mix of anger and concern evident.
"No, no, they don't know yet. They're checking."
"Is she talking? Does she seem okay?" Patri interjected.
"Sí, she was talking fine. Her head hurts, of course. She can't handle much light, or focus very well yet." Alexia paused. "I don't know if she seems okay, but she'll recover."
The muttering on the other end picked up again, this time more audible. The girls were worried, of course.
"Why the hell did Frido hit her so hard!" Patri exclaimed, then it sounded as if someone had lightly smacked her. But nobody seemed to have a good answer.
Alexia explained what more she could from what the doctors and Laura had told her about your condition, and promised to update them again later. Ingrid promised to keep the other girls in the loop so they wouldn’t bother Alexia, which she appreciated. Everything felt overwhelming enough as it was.
Eventually Alexia hung up once she heard your voice from outside of the door.
“Brain bleed free, Ale!” you smiled as the nurse wheeled you back into the room. You had the stuffed giraffe she gave you clenched in your hand, and you waved it at her as you spoke for emphasis.
“Yep, the scans look perfectly normal.” The nurse affirmed. “Now let’s not try our luck for a third time.”
You saluted her as she left the room, falling quiet soon after. Alexia could see that you were still low on energy.
“Why don’t you rest a little more? I’ll deal with the paperwork in the meantime. Then we can get you home.”
-
Olga had made up your room already when you arrived back in Barcelona. She greeted you and Alexia at the door, pressing a kiss to her girlfriend's lips and pulling you in for a soft hug.
"¿Cómo estás, linda?"
"Okay," you gave her a small smile.
"You're my baby for the week," Olga said, taking your arm out of Alexia's hold and instructing her to take your bags into the guest room.
You chuckled as Alexia rolled her eyes playfully and followed orders.
"Does it hurt a lot?"
You nodded, feeling like you could be honest with Olga.
“My ears won't stop ringing… it's driving me nuts.”
"Why don't you go and lay down on the couch for a bit? I'll make dinner in a little while."
After changing into a borrowed shirt and sweats you settled with your head in Alexia's lap. She was stroking your hair very gently, trying to do what she could to make you feel better. Once you were asleep she looked to Olga.
"How are you, mi amor?"
Alexia rubbed her eyes.
"Tired."
"You've had a few very difficult days… she'll be okay."
Olga looked at your sleeping form.
"I'm not sure how to approach it at practice next week." Alexia fell quiet, "I can't help but feel upset at Frido, because I don't understand. If she had looked worried, gone to visit, something, then it wouldn't seem so bad. But she just got up and ran away, didn't seem to care at all. It's so unlike her."
"You let her know that behavior isn't acceptable, yes?" Alexia nodded, "then that's all you can do. And keep an eye on her."
-
You walked out onto the training pitch carefully, a pair of sunglasses covering half of your face and a cap on your head. Alexia held your elbow, keeping you close. You were already shorter than much of the team but you somehow looked even smaller tucked into yourself like that. Hardly anyone had seen you since you got home because of Alexia's insistence that you rest; only Patri had managed to convince Alexia to let her come over, and that was because she was one of your best friends on the team and you were dying of boredom.
Frido hadn't seen you, or heard from you since the friendly. She hadn't been allowed in your hospital room when they kept you overnight for observation, nor had she tried to visit you as you stayed with Alexia. Part of her had been too afraid to ask her capitan if she could come over. And you weren't allowed any screens, so texting was a no-go.
Ingrid, Mapí, and Pina all came rushing towards you, slowing once they were near your pitiful form.
"How are you feeling, bebita?" Mapí asked softly, putting a hand on your shoulder.
"Like shit," you mumbled, giving her a grin.
"With the way your head bounced, it's a miracle it's still attached!" Pina joked in a whispered tone, prompting a smack on the arm from Alexia.
You chuckled, clearly not bothered.
Ingrid, who had been quiet until now, wrapped you in a soft hug. She was careful with your entire upper half though she didn't need to be. You returned her embrace, looping your arms over her shoulders.
"Are you sure you're alright?" She mumbled to you.
You nodded, patting her cheek as she pulled away.
After that Alexia declared that you were going to sit in the shade and were not to be bothered, a glance thrown specifically at Patri and Pina. The rest of the team nodded, giving you quick smiles and thumbs up. Frido continued to stand awkwardly on the side, not sure what the best thing to do was. Would you even want to talk to her? Probably not.
Alexia walked you over to the bench and gave you water and some ear plugs to quiet the noise of the field. Unfortunately you couldn't really do much, no reading or phones allowed. All you could really do was sleep, which you did not long after, lulled by the warm air and low sounds of your teammates playing.
You didn't wake up until about an hour later. You were hot in your light jacket, so you shucked it off and gently sat up. Your sunglasses made it so your head didn't hurt too badly. Caro noticed you were awake and waved at you. You waved back, sending her a smile.
Alexia had mentioned that everyone sent messages of well wishes, not only your Barça teammates but your German teammates, and even a few from the Swedish team. You couldn't use your phone to see them, but Alexia had read them to you one by one. It was a little overwhelming, the support. Even players you had only interacted with a few times had reached out to check in.
"Hola cari" Patri said, flopping herself down next to you. It was a water break, and you could see the team dispersing to grab their bottles from their bags.
"Hola, Patri."
"Here," Patri shifted so she was sitting up, and patted her lap for you to put your head in. "How do you feel? Is it okay if I talk in Spanish or is English better for your head?"
"How about German?" You joked, prompting a large smile from Patri.
"Hallo?" She said, her Spanish accent laughably thick. You patted her leg fondly.
"Spanish is okay. It doesn't hurt my head anymore than a different language."
Patri began to stroke your hair as the two of you caught up. You learned that she had fought hard to get you to stay with her even though she only had one bed (the couch was a perfectly fine alternative for her, she had tried to tell Alexia), and that she was going to the coast during the next break with her family. You told her about seeing your family in Germany before the match, and how big your niece had gotten. Before long, another presence joined you.
"Hi," Caro's soft voice called.
She crouched down in front of you two, giving a faint smile.
"Do you need anything? Did you bring anything to eat?"
You shook your head, and Caro disappeared for a moment. When she returned, there was a bag of crackers in her hand, and a banana.
"I also found this at the supermarket."
She pulled out a packet of cookies, a German brand that you loved as a kid.
"I remembered seeing them when I was playing at Wolfsburg all the time…I figured since you're from around there maybe you knew them?"
You took them from her and held her hand, squeezing it in thanks. It brought tears to your eyes.
"I loved these when I was little… thank you Caro."
Caro smiled at you, taking a seat on the grass across from you and eating quietly. The Norwegian wasn't much of a talker, but she showed her affection just by hanging around.
"Here," she offered some of her water, realizing you had run out.
You took the bottle hesitantly, but Caro was firm.
"Drink, it will help your head."
Soon it was time for everyone to get back on the pitch, and you were left alone again. You put on a podcast through your headphones, passing the time as best you could.
The podcast served mainly as background as you watched your teammates train. It was hot today, and you could see everyone having to work a little harder to keep up. Your eyes fell to Frido naturally, even though you wished it weren't the case. She was partnered with Aitana doing passing drills. Her form was near perfect, you were jealous of her impeccable footwork. She looked beautiful: her hair was done up in a bun, her legs were glowing in the sun, and the muscles in her arm rippled as she picked up her water bottle to get a quick drink. It was disappointing that you still wanted her, even after all of this. Maybe something was wrong with you.
Later, as you waited for Alexia to finish with some promo stuff, Ingrid wandered over to keep you company. Mapí must have been getting a little extra physio time since she had only just been cleared after her injury.
"Can I sit?" She asked you, gesturing to the spot where you sat on the field.
You nodded and smiled, pulling your headphones out.
"How are you feeling?"
You shrugged.
"It's not so bad now, just like a regular headache. They gave me some medication but I'd rather not…"
Ingrid rubbed your shoulder, pulling you a little closer to her.
"You gave us quite the scare."
"Don't tell me you watched the video." You shifted to look her in the eye. "I know it freaks you out, makes you paranoid."
Ingrid smoothed the crease between your eyebrows with her thumb.
"Don't worry about me. Now is the time for us all to fret over you."
You huffed and rolled your eyes, wincing as it hurt your head.
After chatting for a little while Ingrid began braiding your hair into the intricate patterns she had learned to do as a kid. She took care not to pull at your scalp too much, and the gentle motion of her fingers felt lovely on your head. You were more relaxed than you had been in months.
"Has Frido said anything to you?" Ingrid finally asked after a stretch of silence.
You raised your eyebrows, surprised at the question.
"No, we haven't spoken since before we went on international break."
Ingrid paused, but didn't press. You felt her desire to do so, however. You wondered if Frido had spoken to her at all.
#woso x reader#fridolina rolfö x reader#fridolina rolfö#fridolina rolfo x reader#alexia putellas x reader#barca femini x reader#barca femeni#barca x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#my writing#woso
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OH GOD I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOUR REQUESTS OPENING!!
Okay, so- I would love to read your thoughts on healer Tav with Rolan! Could be HCs, or a blurb, whatever you prefer^^ if you decide to make it a blurb, perhaps Tav could be patching Rolan up after the fight with Lorroakan?
This was so fun, I haven't written about the aftermath of Lorroakan's battle much! I hope you're okay with Tav as a cleric?? It's what I immediately thought of!
Rolan and Healer!Tav in the Aftermath of Lorroakan
Tav and their companions are absolutely exhausted. The fight with Lorroakan was nothing short of difficult, how were they supposed to know he had some elemental reaction? Karlach took plenty of hard hits because of it.
And then there was Rolan.
When they saw his bruises, they felt nothing short of anger. He was so excited for this apprenticeship, and Lorroakan twisted it into a punishment. He was a sick man, who now laid dead near Dame Aylin's feet after shattering his spine.
"Soldier," Karlach starts, putting a hand on their shoulder, "We're going to head back. Gale looks ready to collapse."
"Ah...yes. Of course." They say, eyes trailing to Rolan who has already grabbed a mop, "I'll catch up later. If not, I'll be here."
She gives a knowing smile before picking up Gale, throwing him over her shoulder despite his startled protest.
Dame Aylin gave the courtesy of disposing the body, so there is no worry there. They are worried about Rolan.
After promising to help in any way he can, it seems that he just started to...clean. Mindlessly. He's already mopping the floor of all the blood that was spilled, even as his muscles spasm from electrocution. He was almost killed, they all were, yet here he is, fucking cleaning.
They don't know whether to be more worried or pissed off.
"Rolan," they call, "What are you doing?"
"Cleaning. I do not want the blood to dry, it'll stick and be impossible to clean out."
"Did you even heal yourself?" They ask, marching up to him. "You got the worst of it all."
"I'm fine. Lorroakan is dead, the tower is mine. I do need to contact Lia and Cal-"
They snatch the mop out of his hand, and before he could argue they put a finger up. "Don't. Let me heal you."
"Tav-"
"You took a beating! We all did, and you shouldn't worry about cleaning! I'll help you with that later." They sigh, summoning their magic. "Rolan, please, I care about you and I know you're hurting."
He sighs heavily and relents, annoyed. "Just make it quick. I have a lot to do."
They ignore his sass, gently placing a hand on his shoulder and mutter their incantation. It's not nearly enough, but they feel Rolan slowly relax. A low level cure wounds is not what he needs through.
"It's not nearly enough. I'll patch you up. Now, take off your robes."
If they were paying attention, the could see how flustered Rolan's face went. "Tav, this is not necessary. You've done more than enough-"
"You are limping and I see the blood under your robes. Sit. Down." They demand.
He huffs incredulously and plops down on the book throne, slowly taking off his robes and under shirt. Those don't go without a few winces though.
Bruises, scars, and dried blood coat his body. The bastard seemed to be have beating him for a while, longer than Tav thought. It makes their blood boil, but now is not the time for anger.
They take out salves, bandages, and ointments from out of their pack and start working on the wounds quietly. Rolan suddenly looks extremely bitter, probably noticing that they had a question on the tip of their tongue. "I know that look, don't you dare judge me for sticking around even after the first hit."
"I would never judge. I don't understand it all, but...I want to."
He looks away, and Tav spots his eyes getting watery. "I don't wish to speak on it, today. I've done enough of that."
"Of course."
They finally manage to wrap up his more major injuries, which were at least sealed thanks to their spell. These are mostly to protect the more tender areas and prevent more injury. They know Rolan has been keeping it together in front of them, but he looks so tired.
When they open their arms up in offering, he carefully pulls them in for a hug. It's tight, it's crushing, but also secure. They don't say a word when they feel his body shake, or when their shoulder starts to feel wet, only pecking his temple as the man silently weeps. "I'm here."
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Too Noisy ~ Sturniolo triplets
Warnings: noise sensory, overstimulated, noise senstive!reader, implied autistic/adhd!reader, overwhelmed, sensory processing disorder.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was supposed to be a fun day with three of your best friends. Nick, Matt and Chris wanted to spend some time with you as the four of you haven't had much time together recently. They also knew how you were struggling to regulate and how overwhelmed with work you had been.
They told you to be ready by ten, so you could spend all day together doing different stuff and you had even planned to sleep over at their place that night.
So here you were, standing outside your house waiting for the three boys to arrive. A few minutes went by and you saw the familiar car pull up.
“Hey kid!” Chris shouted from his opened window.
You waved, the shouting not bothering you too much as he wasn’t right next to you. You climbed in the back of the car next to Nick, the eldest giving you a high five.
“Where we going?” You asked as Matt started driving again.
“We thought breakfast first and then see what we feel.” Nick answered.
You nodded as Chris turned up the music. You flinched slightly at the sudden rise of noise.
“Chris turn it down a bit.” Nick said, noticing your sudden flinch.
“Sorry!” He apologised quickly, turning it down a bit.
You smiled as it got to a better level for you. The guys knew about your sensory needs and didn’t judge and did their best to help and support you.
When you arrived at Denny’s, which was the place you all agreed to eat at, you noticed a few cars but it didn’t seem busy so that made you happy.
You all headed inside and found a table at the back, you choosing to sit next to Matt. You started to look at the menu wondering what to eat, but it wasn’t hard as you always went with the same thing.
After you had all ordered, you listened to the guys joke and Chris shout about the food as Nick told him to be quiet. You smiled until you saw a family walk in with a baby. It wasn’t that you hated babies, just the noise.
You thought maybe they wouldn’t be sitting near you, but they did, right behind you. You heard the baby whine and whimper slightly and you hoped it wouldn’t get worse.
But it did.
As the four of you ate, all you could hear was the baby screaming. It made you cringe and flinch every time. The guys noticed your reaction and Chris even got up to ask if there was any for them to take the baby out, the family was very apologetic but it didn’t help.
“Hey sweetheart, come on.” Matt said, gently taking your hand and pulling you outside.
Nick and Chris paid for everything as Matt too you to the car, holding you gently as he sat in the back with you.
“Too loud.” You mumbled.
“I know, kid. It’s okay it’s quiet now.” He replied gently.
Matt rubbed your back, whispering to you as Nick and Chris came back, both being quiet in case it made you more upset.
“How about we go to Target and get loads of sweets and drinks and have a movie day?” Nick suggested.
You nodded as he got in next to you, Matt getting in the front with Chris. You curled up as it was quiet in the car.
“Sorry.” You whispered.
“No kid don’t be sorry it’s not your fault.” Chris said.
“Yeah, you can’t help it and we’re here to help you okay.” Matt replied.
“We don’t wanna deal with a screaming baby either.” Nick added making you laugh.
You smiled and knew the rest of the day would be good.
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets oneshot#sturniolo triplets fanfic#sturniolo triplets x reader#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo oneshot#nick sturniolo fanfic#nick sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo oneshot#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#adhd!reader#overstimulated#sensory#platonic#platonic friendship#noise sensitivity#autism
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HIIIIIIII ur works r sooo good i read them one by one before going to sleep im tellin ya anyways do u still do requestss?? If u do,can i request kunglao x gnreader where we suck kung lao off under a table while hes talking to raiden????? Its fine too if reader n kunglao switched
Hush Hush Never Tell
Yip notes: Guess my works were your bedtime stories XD. Also how did you freaking know I wanted to do a concept like this??? And You picked Kung Lao I've been wanting to give him some love.
Pairing: Kung Lao x Gn reader
Warnings‼️: NSFW, Oral sex (both receive)
You sat on Kung Lao’s lap with your arms wrapped around his neck and your lips smothering his. A steamy make-out session was at play. You had Kung Lao all hot and bothered from the beginning.
He hadn’t seen you since he went to the Wu Shi Academy. He knew he had to focus on his training but his mind would wander to the thought of you. He would think about holding you and kissing you from head to toe. He would imagine how your skin would feel against his and where your hands would wander. Then you came for a visit. Finally, he got to spend time with the love of his life. And maybe he could get rid of that inner frustration that had been building up since the last time he saw you.
He was very grabby today. He squeezed wherever he could. You both grew more and more desperate to the point you started grinding on his lap. You heard his breathing grow heavy and he began to whimper. Oh yeah, things are getting spicy. Nothing could ruin this moment.
Knock! Knock! Knock! FUCK!
Both of you heard Raiden calling for Kung Lao. You didn’t pay attention to what he was saying, you acted quickly. Your first instinct was to slip off of Kung Lao and hide under the table. Luckily the other side of the table was covered so no one would be able to see you were down there, only Kung Lao. Since he wasn’t answering Raiden decided to walk in. Kung Lao scooted his chair into the table more to prevent his friend from seeing his rock-hard boner. The only hint that something was going on was the slight blush on his face.
You heard some of their conversation. Raiden asked where you were, and Kung Lao had to lie by saying you were out for a walk. Little did the champion know that you were close by. This conversation might go on for a long time so you might as well get comfortable and have some fun.
When you looked forward you realized that your boyfriend's boner was not going down. It was pushing up against his pants. You knew it was uncomfortable for him so you decided to help him out a little. There was already a reaction from him. His hand went down to hint at you to not do that but did you listen? Fuck no! You’ve wanted to do this for a long time and now was your chance.
When you pulled down his pants his cock sprang out. Clearly it was happy to see you too. You saw the droplets of precum at the tip. It began to drip down and you took the chance to lean it and lick it up. Kung Lao’s eyes changed from a wide-eyed panic to half-lidded. His eyes rolled back a little before correcting.
“Are you alright, Kung Lao? Are you ill?” Raiden asked, believing his friend was suffering from something.
“Ah yeah…yeah I’m perfectly fine.” He lied through his teeth.
He tried to close his legs to prevent you from doing anything else but it was useless. You placed yourself between his legs. You were gonna have your fun right now.
You began to leave kisses all over it. They were gentle but it had an effect on Kung Lao. His nostrils were flaring up and he didn’t know where to put his hands. You gave him little licks on his tip. You’re killing him with your teasing. He wanted to thrust his hips but that would bring too much attention. Seeing how his legs jittered gave you the hint and you gave him what he wanted. Your tongue began to swirl around his tip.
Kung Lao’s hands were going crazy trying to keep himself under control. One of his hands was scratching at the table while the other was concealing his mouth just in case he couldn’t hold in any moans. Raiden suspected something was up but didn’t ask. He decided to go on and on about what they needed to do in regards to training. Kung Lao was not taking anything in. All he was thinking about was how good you were making him feel. You grew braver as this went on so you decided to take him all in. He felt your tongue slide down as your warm mouth surrounded his cock.
You’re gonna be the death of him.
He let out a whine and he began shaking a little. Raiden noticed and had to ask since Kung Lao was acting very strangely.
“What is the matter? You are not yourself.”
Kung Lao had to think quickly. What did he decide to say?
“…hungry…” Good thinking, it’s realistic.
Raiden sighed before saying, “Typical. Fine, I will leave you be so you can get yourself food. But once you are done we must discuss our training routine.”
Raiden walked out of the room and Kung Lao immediately got to work. You felt his hands grab onto your head before he stood up. It all happened so fast. You felt his cock go deeper down your throat, causing you to gag a little. He thrusted in and out of your mouth. He was a panting and whimpering mess.
All your teasing made him sensitive. Combined with the fact he had jerked off this whole time even when he so desperately wanted to he was incredibly sensitive down there. If Raiden didn’t leave in time he probably would have came right in front of him.
His cock abused the back of your throat while his fingers grabbed at your hair. His pelvis bumped into your nose multiple times. You began to drool from the inability to swallow in time and the constant movement in your mouth. You felt him twitch and he began to moan. One more thrust and you felt his cum flow down your throat. He was pent up for a long time so there was a lot going down. You had no choice but to swallow it all. That orgasm was needed. He was shaking and sweating. He didn’t even realize the top half of his body was leaning on the table.
He slipped his cock out of your mouth before sitting back down. His head went back and you could see his chest rising up and down a lot from his heavy breathing. Your mouth was a mess. A mess of saliva and cum that was slipping down your lips.
You crawled out from under the table and began to stand up before feeling Kung Lao pick you. He placed you on the table and took your pants off in one fell swoop. He parted your legs before giving you a smile.
“Now’s my turn.” He did say he was hungry. Time to dig in.
His face was between your legs in seconds. Gosh, you forgot how impressive his tongue was. Swirling around and making it a wet mess down there. His lips felt like heaven. They are wonderful for kissing and giving kisses down there. You couldn’t close your legs since his hands were spreading them apart. Good luck trying to fight him, he’s too strong and hungry for you.
Your back rested against the table since you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself up. Your head hung off and you were trying your hardest to be quiet. Your legs began to shake and you tried to push Kung Lao’s head away from down there. He didn’t budge and that orgasm hit you like a brick. Your hands went from his head over to your mouth to cover it. Your moans were muffled but could still be heard by him. Prideful bastard, he loves hearing you moan for him.
You sure made a mess on his face. Kung Lao got on top of the table and crawled on top of you. His lips latched onto yours and you both got a taste of each other. When he pulled away you saw the mess you made but also the large smile on his face.
“Have I ever told you that I love you?” He’s such a sweetheart, right?
Yap notes: I saw slugs this morning and that's cool. Not important but it's important to me. My cat finally came out and asked for pats and I told her I had to finish but nooo she needs pats. Now she is sleeping nearby. If only I could have my dog come near but he is moody right now. OH RIGHT THIS IS A FANFIC I GOT SIDETRACKED. I mean what can I say Kung Lao is a cutie patootie. And he has a big appetite like me when I'm not anxious. What am i gonna do for dinner? Adiós!
#mortal kombat#mk1#mortal kombat 1#mortal kombat1#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat x you#mk x reader#mk x you#mk fanfic#mk smut#mortal kombat smut#kung lao x you#kung lao x reader#kung lao mk1#mk kung lao#kung lao mortal kombat#kung lao#mortal kombat kung lao#mk1 kung lao
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yandere riddler of your choice with a reader whos into the whole stalking thing? thank you and have a good one!
Thank you! Oh, this is an interesting idea! It took me a bit to decide which Riddler would work best with this.... but then I decided that Edward Nashton would be a fun choice since I haven't written for him yet! I hope this is what you wanted! 💚
Obsessions.
(2022 Batman) Edward Nashton/The Riddler x F!Reader.
(Declaimer: I don't condone or approve of the actions taken in this story. It is purely a work of fiction.)
Word Count: 682.
Contents: Stalking, Obsessive Behavior.
Edward could still perfectly recall in exact detail the first day he met you. It was a memory that had burned itself into his mind, and that made his very heart race whenever he thought of it. You had walked into KTMJ, looking for someone to help look over the accounting for your place of employment.
The moment his eyes landed on you, he nearly felt his heart stop. You were perfect, ethereal even, to him. The way your hair framed your face, the brilliant shine in your eyes, the sweet and caring smile you always had, all things he absolutely adored and obsessed over.
"Hello there! Um.. I'm looking for whoever I need to speak with... the place I work at needs someone to look over our finances and our profit records?"
He just simply stared at you silently for a few moments until it finally dawned on him that you were actually speaking to him. He nervously adjusted his glasses slightly.
"...Um... I C-could take a look at that... for you... if you wanted?"
"Thank you! I'd really appreciate it!"
You sat down near his desk. Over the next hour, he looked through the reports and informed you of any discrepancies that your place of employment should be aware of and concerned about. He kept stealing longing glances at you while he worked.
Soon enough, you thanked him for his assistance and left. He felt a mixture of things once you had left. Frustration, disappointment, and an overwhelming need to bask in the warm glow of your presence again.
So, of course, that's why he's currently following you home, staying a decent distance behind you so that you don't notice him, He wouldn't be able to handle it if you found out what he was doing and were disgusted with him, no. He just couldn't risk it. So he always took extra care to not be seen.
Unbeknownst to him, you were actually already aware of the fact that he has been following you home every day. You knew that you should have probably either reported him or confronted him about his behavior. But strangely enough, a part of you didn't really mind.
Maybe he was just shy? At least, that's what you told yourself to justify your bizarre comfort with the situation. You were kind of hoping that he'd eventually work up the nerve to just ask you out. You thought he was quite cute, and he seemed fairly nice, outside of the whole stalking you thing. So you wouldn't mind going out to eat with him or perhaps just seeing a movie even.
But it went further than just him following you home every day. Late at night, you could almost swear that you heard a clicking sound, like what a camera would make. It made your skin crawl slightly, but you kind of liked it for some reason that you couldn't quite pinpoint.
That same clicking was currently going on just outside your window, Edward knew that it was wrong and really creepy of him to be taking pictures of you, which, as far as he was aware, was without your consent. Even though you honestly didn't mind that much, however, he didn't know that. He truly believed that you were none the wiser of his stalking and photo taking.
Eventually, a few hours after you had gone to bed for the evening, Edward slowly made his way back to his apartment, he needed to get these photos printed off so he could put them in the album he had made that was just entirely pictures of you. He loved to stare at them whenever he wasn't able to follow you. They brought him such comfort and joy. There was finally something outside of his riddles that he found joy in within this city.
He printed the pictures out and put them nice and neatly in the album. Before changing and laying down in his bed, he cradled the photo album to his chest, hoping to dream of the one who had stolen his heart so effortlessly.
#dc comics#batman#the riddler#riddler#edward nashton#edward nashton x reader#the riddler x reader#x reader#fanfic
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Title: Fun Between Friends
Pairing: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, James Potter/Lily Evans (background)
Rating: NC17 (for language, smut, underage drinking, recreational drug use, references to child abuse)
Summary: It's the Marauders' last year at Hogwarts; James and Lily are finally going out, leaving Peter, Sirius and Remus to entertain themselves when they go out on dates. Sirius couldn't be happier for them, but it's left him with plenty of time to think about something he's been able to ignore up until now. As a result, he's had a lot on his mind lately, and Remus has noticed.
Notes: written as a companion piece to an upcoming story, Sirius Black and the Daughter of the Mountain King, but this can be read as a standalone.
Warnings: some vague references to child abuse, this takes place in their seventh year
CH 1
Returning to Hogwarts was almost bittersweet now that it was their last time doing so. There were moments when Sirius wished he had a time turner to go back to first year and do it all over again, and others when the prospect of his future seemed like his greatest adventure just waiting to be taken. And best of all, in his opinion, was that he would have his best friends by his side. Regardless of what was happening outside the castle walls, nothing could shake the bonds they’d built over the last six years.
It was the first weekend of term, and while he'd had images of the four of them doing something grand for their first Friday night back, he hadn't counted on Lily finally agreeing to go out with James. Sirius had almost asked him to reschedule. It was the first Friday night of their seventh year for Merlin's sake! Surely Lily would understand that it was only right that they begin the term with a bang! But as Sirius watched his friend rummaging through his school trunk, muttering to himself about needing tonight to go well, he hadn't the heart to ask.
He, Remus and Peter watched on from their respective beds and played a laidback game of muggle catch with a ball Remus had brought from home. Apparently, his mother had recently introduced his father to a muggle game called tennis, which had resulted in numerous green and white balls being left scattered about in their home.
"I just want to look good for her," James said, tossing a shirt over his shoulder.
Sirius arched a brow as he looked over at Remus, tossing the tennis ball to him. "You might want to make sense of that hair then," he teased with a smirk.
"Oh piss off, Padfoot, I'm serious," James replied, holding a different shirt up in front of him.
He looked back at James and said, "I don't think she'll care what you look like, mate."
"She'll just be happy to be spending time with you," Remus added, throwing the ball to Peter.
Wormtail said, "She's probably just as nervous as you are."
"Yeah, it'll be fine as soon as you get to Honeydukes." Catching the ball that Peter had thrown, Sirius shifted his gaze between his other two friends. "Now we just have to decide what we're going to make of our evening, gents." He threw the ball to Remus, who caught it in one hand.
"Just as long as it doesn't involve skinny dipping in the Black Lake again," said the werewolf, rolling his eyes.
"I second that," Peter replied, catching the ball that was thrown to him. "Jacqueline nearly took me corey off the last time."
"As I recall, Peter, that was the most action you got all year," Sirius teased.
"Sod off, will ye, Black," Peter replied, putting a little extra heat into his throw to Sirius.
"Ooh," Sirius chuckled as he caught it. "It's too bloody cold for a swim anyway."
"We could always go to Zonko's and see about getting another Frog Spawn Soap to put in the first year bathroom," Remus suggested.
Peter groaned. "That sounds boring."
"Well then, Wormtail, what do you suggest?" Remus asked, throwing him the ball.
"Let's nick some firewhiskey and go down to the Shrieking Shack." He threw the ball to Sirius, who looked rather impressed by the suggestion.
"I’m up for it," he said, looking at Remus before asking as he threw the ball. "What say you, Moony?"
"I can't encourage that, I'm a prefect! Anyway, where would we find a bottle?"
"Slughorn always keeps one in his office," Peter answered.
"If you gits get snagged trying to filch Slughorn's liquor, you'll be in detention for a month," James said as he stood holding up two different shirts, turning to face them. "Which one?" he asked, putting one in front of him, then the other.
Sirius looked at both shirts, grimacing at the multi-colored jumper in his friend's right hand before he pointed to the red button down in his left. "That one. And while we're on the subject, you should burn that ghastly jumper. It's giving me nausea just looking at it."
"This coming from the man whose wardrobe is made up entirely of jeans and t-shirts just to piss off his family from afar?" James quipped with a slight smirk as he pulled the approved shirt on.
"Don't forget his precious leather jacket," Remus said as he caught the ball Sirius threw to him.
"I like the jacket," Peter mused.
"Thank you, Peter, at least someone in this dormitory has good taste," Sirius said, grinning at his friend as he caught the ball next.
"'Good taste' is a bit of an overstatement, don't you think?" Remus teased.
Before Sirius could give a cheeky response, James said, "Right, how do I look?"
"Like a proper lady," Peter teased, earning a round of laughs from the other two friends.
James rolled his eyes and began to unbutton his shirt, which prompted Sirius to stand after he caught the ball from Peter.
"Oi, don't listen to this prat, he's just taking the mickey. You look good," he said as he put his hands on Jame's shoulders, one still holding the ball. "Evans won't know what to do with herself. She'll be wondering what took her so long to realize what a handsome bloke you are." He blindly threw the ball to Remus as James smiled at him thankfully.
"She turned me down so many times, I'm afraid she'll take one look and change her mind."
"Don't be daft, she fancies you," Sirius answered with a one-sided-shrug. "Now go and show her a good time."
"Just be sure to use a johnny," Peter chimed.
"Oi! Don't talk about her like that," James replied, whipping around to glare at Peter, who held his hands up in mock surrender.
"Apologies, mate. I were only foolin'," Wormtail replied, throwing the ball to Sirius, who caught it over Jame's shoulder.
"Bloody wanker," he mumbled before addressing James again. "You'll be fine, alright?"
"Don't worry so much, James," Remus said from his bed. Sirius tossed him the ball, which he caught before adding, "Just be yourself."
"Maybe a less pratty version of yourself," Sirius teased.
James took a deep breath and let it out in a huff, his cheeks ballooning as a result. "Alright. You guys are right. I just need to relax and be myself."
"That's the spirit," Sirius said, clapping him on the shoulder. He caught the ball when Peter tossed it to him and immediately threw it to Remus.
"I'll meet you at the shack after. Wish me luck," James said, earning a choir of 'good luck' as he left the dorms to wait for Lily in the common room.
Sirius rolled his eyes half-heartedly and picked up his leather jacket, putting it on. "Well? How are we going to get old Slughorn's firewhiskey then?"
Peter caught the ball, his hand dropping to his lap as the three of them pondered on the question. With Slughorn's office on the sixth floor, they couldn't exactly use the window.
Unless…
"The three point drop," Sirius suggested.
"Who's going to distract him?" Remus asked.
Sirius caught the ball that Peter threw, grinning at Remus. "You, of course. You're the prefect."
Remus rolled his eyes and caught the tennis ball, setting it on his night table as he sighed, "Of course." He stood and grabbed his own jumper, followed the other two out of their room, and down the staircase to the common room. "He'll be trying to cut the conversation short," he warned.
"You'll have to make the drop in under two minutes, Wormtail," Sirius replied.
"I can do that."
"Are you sure? We were nearly found out the last time," Remus said.
"Sure, I'm sure!"
"You know where it is, don't you?" Sirius asked, glancing over his shoulder. Peter was just as much their friend as any one of them, but there were times where he could be a right twit.
Sirius could practically hear the eye roll as Peter answered, "The top shelf, next to the fireplace. I can do this, don't worry."
A couple of fifth year girls smiled at Sirius as they walked through the common room. Out of pure habit, he winked in their direction as he, Remus and Peter walked by, smiling at the giggles that erupted behind them as he led his friends out of Gryffindor Tower.
When they reached the staircase, they split up, Sirius continued down to the entrance hall and out the front doors to wait below Slughorn's window, while Remus and Wormtail, now in his rat form, went up to the sixth floor. Slughorn wasn't one to socialize much except for with his star students, Wormtail would have to sneak past Remus and the professor, transform into his human form, and quickly toss the bottle out the window, then transform back into a rat and sneak past them once more. It was a risk seeing as how Peter had only just learned to transform without a wand… again, but if they could at least secure the firewhiskey it might be worth the detention if they got caught.
Tilting his ear up to the half-opened window, Sirius smirked at the sound of Slughorn answering his door, and his and Remus' muffled voices. He looked around to be sure there was no one in the vicinity and pulled his wand out in anticipation, ready to shrink the bottle so that he could easily hide it in his jacket until they reached the Shack.
"Mr. Black?"
He turned abruptly to face McGonagall, instinctively, placing his hands behind his back. He nonverbally cast a levitation spell when he heard the sound of sloshing liquid above them, something he had only recently perfected. He just hoped it would hold until he could get rid of McGonagall.
"Good evening, Professor."
"It isn’t very often I see you without your friends."
"Oh, I was just enjoying the crisp evening air, admiring the sunset." It sometimes amazed even him how quickly he could think on his feet, even while he concentrated on keeping a bottle of firewhiskey from coming down behind him.
McGonagall arched a suspicious brow. "Alone?"
"James is on a date," he answered, quickly adding, "Remus and Peter should be along shortly."
She looked a bit skeptical, but nodded slowly. "I expect you'll be back inside by curfew."
"Mhm," he hummed behind a closed-lip smile.
They would likely be spending the night in the Shack. He would have to remember to tell the others that they needed to be in for breakfast in the morning. As soon as she walked into the castle he set his sights on the bottle and let it fall. He slowed its momentum to catch it, shrunk it, and slipped it into his jacket.
A few minutes later, his co-conspirators walked out the castle, and the three went to the Whomping Willow, where Wormtail pushed the knot for them to sneak under it.
"I should get first sip!" Peter declared as they came through the entry hole into the shack minutes later.
Remus waved his wand at the fireplace, lighting it.
"I took the most risk," Peter continued as he plopped down onto the chaise closest to the fire.
Not bloody likely, Sirius thought as he rolled his eyes and handed the bottle over anyway, bringing it back to normal size with a point of his wand. He didn't really care who drank first, so long as he could get drunk. With James more focused on Lily ever since the end of last year, it had left Sirius alone with his own thoughts much more often, and they were nothing but chaos as of late. In that time, certain feelings had begun to arise in him, and he wasn't entirely sure what to do with them. Distractions certainly helped, and firewhiskey was a wonderful distraction indeed.
Sinking into the sofa, he peeled off his jacket and draped it over the back before he waved his wand to put a record in the player.
"Please, no more Elvis," Remus groaned when he saw the record floating above the turntable. "I still have nightmares from third year."
Sirius couldn't help the barking belly laugh that escaped as Peter passed the bottle to Remus. "Put on whatever you like then, Moony. We've got all night."
They had been spending more and more time at the Shrieking Shack ever since beginning their sixth year, which Sirius didn't mind in the slightest. At first he thought Remus might have preferred not to, especially considering the reason they had access to it in the first place, but surprisingly, Remus had been wanting to associate the shack with more than just his monthly transformation. From what he’d told them, having better memories in the Shack helped keep the wolf a bit calmer on the nights when they weren’t roaming around the Forbidden Forest. Plus, it gave them a break in their normal routine.
"What do you guys think of Sybill Trewlawny?" Peter asked.
Sirius furrowed his brows. "Who?"
"The Ravenclaw who's friends with Emma Vanity's little sister." Remus said.
"Right. She's alright. A bit strange maybe," Sirius added. "But sweet." He took a swig from the bottle, relishing the burn that slid down his throat and bloomed in his chest before he passed it to Peter. "Wasn't her great-great grandmother that famous Seerer?"
Of course, Remus was the one to answer. "Cassandra Trelawney."
"That's the one," Sirius replied.
Peter simply shrugged. "I've been thinking about asking her on a date."
"She's a fourth year, what could you possibly have in common with a fourth year?" Remus asked.
"I dunno, but I think she's rather fit," Peter said.
Sirius arched a brow as the blonde took a sip from the bottle. He somehow doubted that a bird like Sybill Trelawny would give a prat like Peter the time of day. He didn't know the girl, but she seemed rather captivated by her Divination studies as of late. She could often be found under the tree by the Black Lake with her tarot cards, offering students readings during breaks, and didn't seem particularly interested in romance. Or much of anything else that he ever noticed.
"Do let us know how that goes, Wormtail," he said with a smirk.
"You think I should?" Peter asked Remus, handing over the firewhiskey.
Remus sighed. "I wouldn't find anything in common with a fourth year, but if you fancy her, Peter, I say go for it."
Peter smiled and leaned back on the chaise, apparently satisfied with the answer.
"I heard Mary fancies you," Sirus said, gently nudging Remus, whose cheeks flushed a deep pink. Sirius thought it looked rather adorable on him. "You should talk to her."
Remus shook his head. "She's been rather jumpy since what happened to her."
"Shame really, what Mulciber did," Peter chimed.
"Lily said she's been doing much better this year. She seems much more comfortable around people in general," Sirius said as he took a swig and handed the bottle off.
"Well, that's good to hear," Remus said. "I just don't think I'm good for her."
"Why the bloody hell not?" Sirius asked.
"Because, Padfoot, eventually she would start to wonder where I keep disappearing to every full moon. And once she knows, she won't want anything to do with me. Not to mention that she might even take initiative to tell others about my… condition."
"I reckon, given what she's been through, she might understand," Peter offered. He gave the bottle to Remus after sneaking an extra sip.
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with Peter," Sirius replied. "She doesn't seem like the type of bird to let that bother her."
Remus waved him off. "Maybe not, and I am happy to hear she's doing better. But I'm not terribly interested in Mary MacDonald anyhow."
For a few moments, the only sound was Genesis coming from the gramophone in the corner of the room while they passed the bottle of firewhisky around to each other. Remus shifted his feet and for whatever reason that drew Sirius' attention to the veins in his hand. He found himself captivated by the way one of them raised between the knuckles of Remus' middle and ring fingers, and curled toward the last knuckle, only to disappear further up the back of his hand.
"How do you think it's going with James and Lily?" Peter asked, holding back a burp.
Meeting eyes with Remus, Sirius quipped, "I suppose if he has boils when he gets here we'll know," with a laugh.
Remus joined in the laughter, followed quickly by Peter, the former replying, "You don't think he'll try to bring her here after, do you?"
"Merlin, I hope not," Sirius mumbled. "I like Evans, but she can be quite finicky about following the rules."
"I think she’s brilliant," Peter said into the bottle before sneaking another drink.
"You would," Sirius quipped.
"Piss off, Black."
For the next couple of hours, they drank and laughed, throwing out a few more theories about how James' date was going. At some point, Sirius found himself noticing how slender and long Remus' fingers were when they grazed against his while they passed the bottle between them. He knew Remus was more keen to drum on his bed, but he imagined if Remus ever wanted to take up another instrument, he certainly had the fingers for the piano.
After sneaking one too many extra sips, Peter tipped over, his face landing on the chaise cushions. Remus and Sirius held back laughter as the former swiped the bottle from their passed out friend.
"Lightweight he is," Sirius mumbled as Remus took a drink. "So what's this about you thinking you're no good?"
"What do you mean?"
"Earlier, when we were talking about Mary, you said you don't think you're good for her," Sirius replied, taking the bottle when it was offered.
"That doesn't mean —"
"Which is what you've said about every girl that's ever taken an interest," Sirius said.
Remus took a deep breath, one hand running through his hair. "As much as I would love to have a normal life; date, shag… bloody hell, even kissing, I can't. What if I can't control the wolf? What if I end up killing someone? Blimey, I nearly did kill someone two years ago."
Frowning to himself, Sirius shook his head and mumbled, "That wasn't your fault," before he took a swig from the bottle.
Remus had been more than generous in forgiving him for that stupid prank he had pulled in their fifth year, if it could even be called a prank at all. Sirius had never imagined that Snivellus would actually listen to a bloody thing he had to say. Still, he couldn't help but feel as though he had inadvertently betrayed one of his best friends just to get one over on the greasy git. Not always thinking things through had always been a glaring flaw of his, and it was something he seemed to continue to struggle with more often than he'd liked. He was lucky Remus started speaking to him again, let alone continued being his friend.
"That doesn't change that I almost killed Severus… and Prongs," Remus replied. "I can't take the risk. Besides, I don't want anyone else to know about my illness. It was hard enough telling you three, I can't imagine having to tell a girl that I fancy why I disappear once a month. Even if I did date someone who was understanding about it, being with me would make them just as much of an outcast as my kind is. How could I ask that of someone?"
Sirius stared at him for a moment as he drank again from the bottle and processed what Remus said. He couldn't think of anyone else as selfless or caring as his friend, so it was difficult to hear him think so little about his potential happiness. He was the type of bloke most fathers would be happy to see their daughters with; kind, respectful, hard-working, and brilliant.
"Don't you think people should be able to make that decision for themselves?" he asked, holding out the bottle.
"Not if that means I have to risk telling them my secret," Remus answered.
Sirius conceded that as a fair point, but then something else stuck out about his friend's confession, "Did I hear right? You've never even kissed anyone?"
Remus' cheeks flushed with red again, growing a deeper shade by the second as he avoided eye contact and barely shook his head. "From what I've gathered, kissing always seems to lead to something else."
"It doesn't have to," Sirius said, his eyes faced forward. He was trying so hard not to stare at the delectable color of his friend's skin, especially now that he was wondering how it might taste. "Sometimes kissing is just fun."
As confident as he always was around girls, Sirius had begun to notice other facets of his sexuality emerging, which didn't make him feel quite as confident. It seemed that he woke up one morning and had started to notice boys as well. Deep down, he knew that he had always been interested in boys — tall boys, short boys, light boys, dark boys, it didn't seem to matter — but it had been much easier to ignore when he had his three best friends to come up with new pranks with. Now that they were older, however, and coming to an end in their Hogwarts journey, there was less prank planning to keep his mind occupied, especially now that James and Lily were dating, giving the dormant parts of his subconscious the space to thrive. Of course, he wasn't sure what to do with this newly-flourishing interest nor did he even know how he would go about exploring it. He knew he wasn't gay, he still liked girls… he just also seemed to possibly like boys, and he didn't quite know what to do with that information.
"Still," Remus answered, snapping him back to their conversation. "If you enjoy it with someone, you're likely to do it again, and eventually it will lead to more."
Despite himself, Sirius looked up, his eyes immediately finding Remus' pouty lips, and his heart fluttered. He blinked and averted his eyes, licking his own lips as he brought the bottle up for another sip. "There's got to be some work around."
"I doubt it. Unless I fell in love with another werewolf I suppose," Remus replied, using his wand to switch out the record. "But that's already so rare, I doubt it'll happen. Sex Pistols?"
Sirius cut his eyes to Remus. "What?"
"Is it alright if I put on The Sex Pistols record?" Remus asked again.
"Oh, right. Sure," Sirius answered, leaning his head back against the sofa. Why was he now thinking about snogging one of his best friends? "What if it was someone who already knew about you being a werewolf?"
Remus arched a brow at him. "Apart from my parents, the three of you and Dumbledore are the only ones who know about my condition. Well, and Severus, I suppose."
"Please don't try to snog him," Sirius replied, hoping the levity would lighten the mood, and also take his mind off of imagining how Moony's lips would feel against his. "Or Dumbledore for that matter. Actually, you know, if you did snog Dumbledore, that might help us avoid any future detentions."
"Bloody prat," Remus said, taking a moment before he passed the bottle back to his friend. "So… are you going to tell me what's been going on with you or are we still trying to avoid it by talking about me?"
Sirius shrugged as he took a swig from the bottle and swallowed, handing it back. He was already feeling a strong buzz, but maybe if he got himself too drunk to speak, he could just pass out. "I don't know what you mean."
"You've been rather quiet the last couple of weeks. More reserved than usual."
His fingers began to play with a loose thread on his jeans as he gave another shrug. He hadn't told a soul about his attraction to other boys, not even his three closest friends, mostly because he didn't want to have to deal with Peter taking the piss out of him for it. He knew Remus and James wouldn't, and the latter would reign Peter in straight away. And normally Sirius couldn't care less what others thought of him save for comparing him to his family, but this was somehow different. It felt fragile. Special, like if he allowed anyone to make light of it, it might break him. He didn't know how to even begin unpacking it all.
"Come on, Sirius," Remus said beside him, setting it down on the coffee table. He turned slightly, bringing his knee up on the sofa. "I know we fool around much of the time, but you know you can trust me. I can tell there's something going on with you. I want to help, but I can't if I don't know what it is."
Casting a quick glance to Peter, who had just turned over onto his side with a brief snore, Sirius swallowed and looked back at Remus. "I'm not even sure how to begin to be quite honest. It's just something I think I've been feeling for a long time, but only just began to notice more a short while ago. I'm still trying to understand what it means."
He was grateful that Remus didn't press, but rather pulled his leg closer to the back of the sofa so that he was facing him fully, and waited patiently.
"Seems… I like witches," Sirius started to say, earning a soft chuckle from Remus just before he added, "and wizards. Well…" He couldn't exactly be sure because he'd hadn't yet acted on it, but then wasn't the fact that he did indeed plan to act on it enough? "I think I might."
Remus let out a breath as a smile started to form on his lips and said, "Well I'm glad it isn't something more serious."
With furrowed brows, he flickered his eyes to Remus. "It is serious, you tosspot!"
"I just meant that I thought it was something to do with your family or something that was a matter of life and death or —"
"Bloody hell, Remus, you and your dramatics, honestly," Sirius said, rolling his eyes.
"With what's been happening outside of Hogwarts, can you blame me?" Remus asked. "Did you hear that a number of fifth year Slytherins have already taken the dark mark?"
"I think that's just a rumor," Sirius replied, though the suggestion had brought a panic in the pit of his stomach when he thought about Regulus, who had been avoiding him more and more as of late it seemed.
"Well, is there someone you fancy in particular?"
Sirius smirked to himself, silently thankful that Remus hadn't continued talking about the Slytherin rumor, though the topic he chose instead wasn't exactly an easy one either. "No, not in particular. I've just been," he tried to find the proper words and settled on, "noticing things."
"Such as?"
Sirius tilted his head and said, "Dirk Cresswell's neck and how I think about biting it." Remus widened his eyes in his peripheral vision, which prompted him to look back and add, "Not hard, just a playful little nip. And Davey Gudgeon's lips, Gideon Prewett's eyes." The corner of his lips formed another smirk as he dropped his head onto the back of the sofa, and added, "Oh Remus, the dirty thoughts I've had about looking into those eyes."
The deep red returned to Remus' cheeks as he subtly shifted in his seat. Sirius couldn't help but admire the color.
"How cute you look when you blush," he said as though it were another observation on his list. His lips itched again to feel those of his friend when the color spread down to Moony's neck. His eyes fell on Remus' pulse point, visibly throbbing as if begging him to taste it. Wetting his lips, Sirius said breathily, "Remus," and waited until his friend looked back at him before he asked in a whisper, "What if I gave you your first kiss?"
Each second that passed was marked by a thick, sharp thump that grew in his chest and reverberated in his ears. He couldn't believe he'd just had the stones to ask his friend such a question when he didn't even know whether Remus was attracted to boys as well. Without much of a second thought, Sirius had risked their friendship, and it was too late to take it back. Why couldn't he just learn to think through things first?
Read the rest here!
#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#lily evans#peter pettigrew#remus loves sirius#remus x sirius#wolfstar#sirius being sirius#coming out#seventh year#hogwarts
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Homemade
Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.
Warnings: 18+. Sneaky sex tape fun with dbf!Joel ;-) Unprotected p-in-v. Age gap. Daddy kink. Facefucking. Joel being the world’s worst cameraman. Shower sex. Overstimulation via adjustable shower head. Dirty talk. Screaming ‘daddy’ too loud, and your father shows up.
Translations: In Chile, pico is slang for penis. Joel’s is big.
Part of the Waiting Game series
“If this ever ends up on PornHub, I’ll kill you, Miller.”
Joel knew you meant it, too.
The only reason you’d agreed to make this dumb little ‘home video’ at all was because you were headed back to college tomorrow and wouldn’t see him again until May. Doing long distance was tough, but doing long distance while simultaneously trying to keep a risqué, torrid, and totally-not-age-appropriate love affair with your father’s best friend under wraps was infinitely more difficult. This was the safest way to keep desire alive in the meantime.
Immortalized on a Sony CCD-TR70—because neither one of you trusted iCloud to keep a sex tape secret.
It had also been the only video camera you could find in the closet before your dad had plopped down on the couch just outside your room and announced he would be watching Oppenheimer for the third time. You’d had to scurry off fast before he could invite you to join him.
“I’ll be damned—this thing’s gotta be as old as I am,” Joel mused as he stood at the foot of the bed, camcorder pointed at your semi-nude form.
“I didn’t know they had cameras back in the Stone Age.”
Your smirk didn't flinch, even when Joel flipped you off.
You were lying on your side, head propped up on one hand while the other picked at a few loose strings from the comforter. The lacy, pastel pink bustier holding your tits in place was currently making breathing feel like a chore, and your skin was on fire from the warmth of the room, but you tried not to show it. Joel twisted a dial.
“Alright, now...flash ‘em for daddy,” he grinned as soon as the lens focused in where he wanted: your cleavage.
You rolled your eyes.
“A little closer, please,” you said, patting the space in front of you.
Joel didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still cradling the camera, he clambered over the bed so fast he nearly tripped and took a nosedive in the headboard. You had to cover your mouth to contain a shriek of laughter—and terror—as his frame barreled into yours.
“JOEL!”
Fortunately, your cameraman was quick to recollect himself, planting a knee on either side of your chest once he’d knocked you onto your back. Then, from above, he angled the grey-black hunk of metal just a foot away:
“Anything you’d like to say to the folks watching at home, ma’am?” Joel inquired, suddenly assuming all the poise and matter-of-fact elocution of a news reporter.
You stuck your tongue out at the camera and blew the wettest, fattest raspberry you could muster in response.
Joel hummed, zoomed in on your lips, and nodded.
“Fascinating,” he said, pretending to make sense of the fart noise you’d just made with your mouth, “Have you ever given thought to maybe...sucking cock on camera?”
The swiftness with which he was able to dodge your kick was remarkable. He swayed the camera just out of reach before you could shove it away and say, ‘Joel, quit being GROSS’ and he promptly replied, ‘Ain’t that the whole point of a sex tape, sweet pea? Bein’ a little bit gross?’ And you playfully tried to kick him again, only this time, he caught your foot and yanked you closer to him. He turned the camcorder back to your face and grinned.
“That’s my little pornstar,” he murmured with affection. Then, zooming in again, this time to find your panty line, “Riiiiight there.”
You knew giving Joel Miller recording privileges for an occasion as momentous as this was a bad idea. At the rate you were going now, you’d be seeing the sunrise through the window before you ever got a glimpse of his dick. You needed to take matters into your own hands.
Literally.
You crawled on all fours to get to Joel across the bed.
The man, kneeling with the camera pointed in your direction, looked up to cock a brow at you.
“Sweetheart, hey, can ya do that one more—”
“Hush,” you muttered, closing in on his crotch.
Your head was lowered so you could undo the front of his jeans. Because of this, your back was arched, and your ass was pointed up just the slightest bit. For a second, Joel seemed torn between tilting the lens to your lower half or your face, which was inching ever closer to the bulge in his trousers. In time, he landed on the latter.
He swallowed. That sight never got old—and seeing it displayed on the camcorder’s semi-grainy screen only made it that much hotter. Joel shifted on his knees while you worked him out of his boxers, watching the nimble movements of your fingers as you wrestled the fabric.
“Wanna—” Glancing to the side of the bed, “—maybe—”
“Yup.”
Both of you liked it better on the floor: you on your knees in front of Joel, chin tilted up to see his reactions as you sucked him off. You loved to sink between his legs and then see and feel nothing but him, brain going blank the moment his cock filled your mouth. Joel slid a pillow under your knees before widening his stance some.
“Is it on?” Your hand was wrapped firmly around the base of his cock and your lips were hovering an inch from the tip. You resisted the urge to lick the precum off just yet.
“Darlin’, it’s been on ever since you stepped outta the bathroom in that— that—” Joel seemed to be searching for a word when the head of his cock was enveloped in a kiss. You dragged your tongue across the slit of him and collected the hot, salty beads with a muffled moan.
Then you pulled off.
“Teddy,” you said, reminding him of the name for that pretty little tulle and lace getup you currently had on.
“Teddy,” Joel echoed, his mind a million miles away from any lingerie jargon at the moment. He held the camera tighter as you took him back into your mouth and sank deeper on his cock. He struggled to keep it steady.
It was strange, watching Joel and the rounded glass of the lens as you did this dirty thing that was only meant to be shared between you and him. Knowing it would be recorded, saved for future viewing, displayed on some dimly lit screen in Joel’s bedroom maybe one, twice, or more likely than not, several dozen times over the next three months. You wondered how you might look from this new point of view; though, you weren’t so sure you needed to know what sight Joel was made privy to while you sucked and hollowed your cheeks around his cock.
As it turned out, that uncertainty wasn’t meant to last you very long, because Joel flipped the camera’s screen around two seconds later. Some sepia-tinted, pixelated rendition of your face, framed by the date and time and a bright red flashing dot beside the word ‘REC’ were the first to greet you. You flinched back just a little.
“Joel,” you said, almost bashful, “Flip it back.”
Joel just grinned. Then he laced his fingers through your hair and tugged you closer to him, thumb stroking over your scalp, “C’mon, darlin’, don’t ya wanna see how goddamn pretty ya look on your knees for me?”
You didn’t think you looked pretty at all. In fact, you reckoned your features looked something more like an alien utility funnel than a real, human face as you tilted your chin inward and seemed to be nothing but eyes and a hollowed-out expression, but you let Joel guide you back onto him all the same. You heard a low rumble of pleasure take shape in his chest as your lips slid over his shaft. Your gaze remained glued to the screen as you did.
Wet with saliva and a few faint traces of precum, you continued to bob your head up and down. Joel’s groans grew louder, and your drive to take him further and further surged as well. By the time his hand was tightening into a white-knuckled fist in your hair, you’d nearly taken him all the way to the back of your throat, and your nose was no more than an inch from the soft tufts of hair on his belly. Joel let out a shuttering breath.
“Fuck me,” he heaved. You might’ve smiled if your lips weren’t otherwise occupied. Then he clenched his hand even harder and murmured, “Can you— can I, please—”
Again, you didn’t need him to finish the rest of the question to know what he wanted. You moved your head back just slightly to nod, a low, ‘Mhmm’ reverberating down the length of his dick as you gave him permission. Joel swallowed and set the camera aside immediately.
He placed it on the nightstand, perfectly level with your head, to the side. Then he rotated the device just a bit, took one glance at the screen, and shortly returned to where you were watching him with wide, glossy eyes.
“Ready?” he asked. His right hand now joined the left at the back of your head, but not before thumbing a quick touch over your cheek to get a feel for your approval.
You hummed once more. You watched Joel’s hips move forward, hands secure around your scalp all the while, and you felt a gentle nudge at the back of your throat. Then another. You couldn’t help the impulse to gag, but thankfully, it was short-lived. Joel peered down at you, eyes searching yours for any plea to stop or slow down, but he found nothing. He sheathed himself deeper until your lips were brushing the base of his dick. He groaned.
“That’s a good…fuckin’ girl,” he managed, voice strained, “Takin’ my cock so deep.”
He shifted his hips to move an inch or two out, then slid his cock forward again, bumping that spot at the top of your throat. This time, you were better adjusted to take him and felt your muscles expand and contract around him without activating your gag reflex. Your eyes stayed trained on his face while he dragged his cock back again.
“My pretty girl and her—” Joel stabbed back into you, somehow tender in the way he did it, “—pretty fuckin’ mouth…Sweet thing likes gettin’ facefucked, does she?”
With the increased pace of his thrusts and the grip he had on the sides of your head, you couldn’t quite answer, but Joel could tell from the glint in your eye that you loved when he manhandled and fucked your throat like this. Watched the light sear gently behind those irises as you swallowed every inch of his cock, back and forth, and let your brain break down to little more than a happy, mindless mush. Joel was always keen to oblige you on that front—aroused to no end at the sight of all your thoughts being fucked straight out of your head—and within the next few thrusts, his gut was giving a familiar clench. He pulled halfway out of your mouth, paused, felt the pinch again, then withdrew from your lips fully.
“Get on the bed.”
You straightened back up and made it over to the mattress, quickly. Before you could assume the position you’d been hoping to take on all fours, you felt yourself flipped on your back. Joel yanked your hips to the edge of the bed and kneeled down between your legs. Hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and had them shuffled down your thighs and past your ankles in no time at all. Then, when he lowered his lips to your wet, aching core, you pressed a touch to the crown of his head.
“Joel, wait,” you said. All of a sudden your chest felt tight.
In spite of the fact that your airways were open and completely free from any obstruction—namely, Joel’s big ol’ pico—you still found it difficult to inhale. Some murky, amorphous sense of anxiety weighed over your chest.
When your hand didn’t move from his head and instead pushed him further, Joel furrowed his brows, perplexed.
“What’s’a matter, darlin’?”
You shook your head, more to yourself than to him.
“I haven’t…just— haven’t washed down there today…o-or shaved,” you stammered, “Don’t want you to taste it.”
That was largely a lie. You’d bathed, shaved, and prepared for this just fine, but really were more concerned about the novel optics that loomed overhead. Being filmed in such a singularly vulnerable state without knowing how to act. You were fine when the attention was focused on Joel and his pleasure, but something about having your every whimper and moan laid bare before you on film felt daunting. Unnerving, in a way.
Joel frowned while rubbing your thigh. His brow pinched inward again, as if he were considering something.
Then he moved across your body, and your muscles eased with relief at the thought that he’d just let it go and get to fucking you exactly how you wanted. You reached for him, ready to wrap your legs around his waist, when a yelp clawed out of your throat. You found that you didn’t get to touch his chest, or his cheeks, or his big, broad, beefy shoulders, as you were promptly thrown over the latter of the three body parts and lifted when Joel stood up from the bed. He started carrying you across the room, heedless of the startled, ‘What the FUCK, Miller?’ you’d cried the second he took one step.
Hardwood floors transformed to tile before your eyes, and shortly, you realized you were being brought into your bathroom.
You heard the squeak of some metal knob being turned, then a brief sputter, then a spray of water raining down on your shower floor. You were still being held hostage over Joel’s shoulder, try as you might to bite at his lower back or smack his ass in an attempt to break loose.
He set you down a second later, seemingly unfazed.
“Get in.” He nodded toward the shower.
Before you had a chance to respond, he left. You stood back in disbelief—refusing to go into the shower and let Joel have his win—but just as you opened your mouth to call out and tell him as much, his form slipped back in through the door. Naked, now, and wielding that stupid, goddamned camcorder with a devious glint in his eye.
“Will you—” You held out a defensive hand in front of you, cheeks already heating, “—stop with that?!”
Secretly, the corners of your lips were fighting a smile as Joel drew closer with the camera held up to your face.
“There she is, folks,” he announced, as though speaking to a crowd, or else reading off of a script from the world’s most cheesy porno, “My dirty, dirty girl says she needs a shower—don’t ya, sweet pea?”
It sounded so ridiculous and dumb that neither one of you could keep from laughing. Even as you lifted your middle finger in response, Joel grinned and smacked your ass. Steadied the camera out in front, nudged you closer to the shower, and watched you somewhat begrudgingly obey his orders. Once you’d stripped what little remained on your body, you stepped into the tub.
Add to ‘ridiculous and dumb’ just wildly unsexy as well—who the hell needed a soapy interlude to a sex tape?
Joel Miller, apparently. He constricted his grip on the camera and followed you in, tongue already skimming the backs of his teeth in anticipation. You turned away to step under the shower’s stream, and he wasted no time getting a shot of your derrière. You leaned forward and sighed.
The water worked wonders to get your muscles to loosen some, but still, you were nervous. You could clean up now, stall a little longer, maybe even offer to give Joel head again—but what if he really wanted to eat you out on camera? You couldn’t put off the conversation forever.
Or another minute, it seemed.
You let out a shriek when you felt Joel’s fingers sneak up between your thighs. You hardly knew what he was doing, just folding limply when he spun you around to press your back against the shower wall. Your eyes widened to see him descending your body once more.
“I lied,” Joel said, smirk painted clear across his features, “You’re not dirty—I just wanted to eat your pussy in the shower ‘s’all.”
Chivalry was evidently alive and well in Austin, Texas.
No truer words could have been spoken, and yet, you felt wildly uncomfortable the second Joel’s head dipped between your legs and that big, dumb, handsome face started licking stripes up your sensitive core. You cast a glance to the side and saw the camcorder perched on the sink—just through the open slit in the shower curtain, you could see it pointed directly at you.
You shivered and started to push Joel away.
“Can we maybe just—”
“Sweetie?!”
Joel’s lips tore out of your cunt quicker than a sneeze through a screen door. His eyes were wide.
“Y-Yeah, dad?” you squeaked, tone almost fearful.
“Everything okay in here? I heard ya scream,” your dad returned shortly.
You could only imagine the expression of confusion and distress painting his every lineament in that moment. Probably just barely sticking his head through the crack in the door and blinking anxiously through the steam.
Your dad was caring like that.
He just never knew the right times to show up.
No, there were very few times where you would’ve liked to see him less—apart from that one time you’d sucked Joel’s dick under the table at your dad’s birthday dinner. Your heart was thudding a wild, erratic beat in your chest, and you could only imagine how Joel was feeling. Probably seeing visions of a Size 11 boot being shoved up his ass if his friend happened to slide the shower curtain to the side and see him nose-deep in his daughter’s box.
That would be bad. So very, very bad and probably ten times worse than when Tommy had caught you blowing his brother at the aforementioned birthday party. You just couldn’t seem to catch a break these days.
You sucked in a breath and answered anyway.
“I thought I saw a spider.”
“Really?” You could already sense the embittered tinge to your dad’s voice, harking back to the war he’d once declared on all wolf spiders in the home, “Want me to kill it?”
The next thing you heard was two boots thud on the bathroom floor outside the shower, and you could’ve sworn you saw Joel’s whole soul leap from his body. He shot a frantic look around him, spotted a window above, and seemed to wonder for half a second if he might be able to shimmy his 188-pound frame through a space that probably wasn’t big enough to fit a fat raccoon. He slumped his weight against the shower wall and winced.
“No! I— It wasn’t even a spider. Just a…roach.”
Shortly, Joel’s eyes widened even more and met yours, as if to ask, ‘Why the FUCK would you say that?’
“A roach?!” your dad cried simultaneously.
Apparently, you’d forgotten that any derivative of the word ‘cockroach’ was like a sleeper agent activation phrase for middle-aged fathers who wanted to keep their homes free of all household pests. The look on Joel’s haggard, world-weary face communicated as much to you, and for a second, you remembered that he, too, was built the same way as any other semi-old dude you knew.
Just bigger and beefier and…harder below the belt than you would’ve expected most men around his age to be.
You quickly chided yourself for ogling Joel’s dick at a time like this and replied to your father, shrill, “No!”
Then, slightly more composed, “No, no— I already took it out with some hairspray and told it to fuck off to hell.”
An attempt at humor was the last leg you had to stand on. Fortunately, it worked.
Outside the shower, your dad chuckled, and his footsteps started to shuffle off toward the door.
“Ah. Atta girl,” he beamed, ever the advocate for brutal cockroach killings, “If you see another, just holler, okay?”
“Okay.”
You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, and you almost fell to the floor. Joel probably would’ve been facedown just as well—fear seeping out of his body along with every last ounce of willpower to stand—had he not made a dive for you as soon as your dad had left.
The force of his push sent you straight into the wall, legs forced to wrap around his waist as he buried his face in your neck.
“Thank fuck,” he breathed.
“You’re welcome,” you murmured, swiping the water out of your eyes with a grimace.
Then, just as you were about to request that Joel lower you back down to the floor and out of the shower’s spray, you felt a nudge between your legs. Luckily not a tongue this time—just Joel, or the tip of his leaking cock. The man below you grinned, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a wash of relief. Could it be?
“I’ll still eat you out if y’want,” he started, though speaking with a little less conviction this time around, “But after all that I, uh—kinda jus’ wanna fuck ya stupid.”
Well thank fuck for fake spiders and cockroaches, too; you’d just averted a dreaded tonguefuck, thanks to that detour.
You’d worry about your pornstar moans and on-camera charisma another time—now you could just sit back and let Joel do all the work while he took you against the wall.
Really, there was no need to concern yourself with anything at all from that point forward. Once you’d given Joel the green light, he was sinking you onto his cock with a grunt and making sure you felt nothing but him. His hands found your hips and held you firmly in place as he rutted into you from below, your own fingers latching onto his shoulders for some much-needed support. Both of you knew that you needed to be extra quiet now—seeing how sound seemed to carry in that tight, tiled space—so Joel snagged your lips in his for a kiss.
He was practically panting in your mouth by the time you started meeting his thrusts. His fingertips slid some and must’ve seared ten perfect crescents into the flesh of your ass as he fucked you into the wall.
“Look so pretty like this,” he whispered in between kisses and short, shallow breaths. His cock parted your insides with an excruciating welt of pleasure, and he hardly even seemed to realize it, “Look so damn pretty takin’ cock.”
Then, lips kicking up in a smile when it seemed he’d remembered something, he added, “Can’t wait to play this tape back home and watch us fuck all over again.”
Again. Again. And again. Shit, you could just see it now.
Your eyes traversed the compact shower space once more to find the video camera—still perched, still live, still perfectly implacable and silent atop the sink as it recorded your every grunt, groan, and shuddering moan. You were nearly as curious to know what Joel’s bare ass looked like rutting into you like this as you were to hear yourself getting railed against the shower wall. Maybe you’d beat this fear of secondhand embarrassment after all.
Maybe.
Joel’s teeth snagged your bottom lip and bit it, lightly.
“Every chance I get, you can bet I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout this…sweet pussy while you’re away,” he said, voice low and occasionally punctured by a groan, “Say one more thing f’me and I’ll…cum every time I watch this part.”
The kinks at the corners of his lips were endearing. You would’ve liked to supply them with just about anything they could’ve wanted, so when they leaned into your ear and murmured just what it was they needed to hear, you only hesitated a second.
Or maybe two or three, because, well…it was risky.
Moaning ‘daddy’ out loud at a time like this? It might get Joel off quick, but it might send your real dad running even faster. You weren’t crazy about the thought of anything that might draw the man’s attention again.
Joel seemed a little less risk-averse than you, notwithstanding the window-leaping fear he’d felt when your dad had rushed in before. Leave it to a criminally horny man to have the memory of a goldfish, though.
At present, Joel was blinking and gawking a bit like one, too, waiting for you to enunciate that one magic word.
You couldn’t deny he made a damn cute desperate sex fiend when he wanted to be. And you needed to cum.
You figured you could cut a deal with him just this once.
“Alright,” you mumbled against the top of his stubbled lip, “Make me cum and I’ll say anything you want, Miller.”
You weren’t sure if it was a chuckle or a strangled moan that jumped up in his throat when Joel squeezed your sides tighter. All you knew was that he was lowering you to the floor in the next instant, spinning you around, and walking you forward, swiftly and with purpose, toward the opposite end of the shower. Right where the crack in the curtain made you most visible to the camcorder.
Joel’s hand snaked around your front and gently eased between your legs. Then, pressing his chest to your back and nudging you to bend just slightly at the waist, he tipped your bodies closer to the camera’s line of vision and stilled. From the LED screen, you could see the ghost of a smile crossing his lips as he shifted his head beside your own. Next, they were kissing across your shoulder, your neck, that sensitive spot behind your ear, and finally the shell of it, brown eyes trained on the camera lens as he murmured to you, “Stay real still.”
You didn’t know if you could. But you tried. And you damn near cried when his fingers started working circles over your clit. Your body was raised on tip-toes, and your hand was bracing the wall as Joel fucked you from behind and made a mess of your wet, writhing body. In no more than three or four strokes, your fears of looking or sounding stupid on camera trickled away with all the rest of the silent, sizzling liquids circling the drain below. Your cheek pressed against Joel’s rougher one, and with the push of each new thrust, you came more unraveled.
When Joel’s hand closed over the front of your throat, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t move—couldn’t move, as the man was holding you still in such a taut, rigid grip.
“What do we say when we get fucked this nice, baby?” Joel whispered in your ear, words almost entirely masked by the sounds from the shower. You still heard it, though.
“T-Thank you,” you stuttered, cockdrunk and faint.
“Thank you, what?”
Your eyes were fluttering closed, but you could feel the smug expression just over your shoulder. You clenched around him and felt him snap his hips ahead even harder.
“Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered.
“Say it again.”
“Thank you, daddy!” you whined, still scared to be too loud.
Joel wasn’t scared. His hand ascended the column of your neck to pinch your chin between his fingers, jerking your head to the right.
To the crack in the curtain. To the camera.
You could’ve cried with how fast he was fucking you now. You opened your eyes and cast a pathetic look to the recorder. Joel made sure you maintained that gaze, too.
“Who’s makin’ ya feel this good?” he seethed, shaking your whole frame with the breakneck pace of his hips.
“You, daddy.”
“Who’s fuckin’ this sweet cunt like no one ever has?”
“You, daddy.”
Joel seemed sated and somehow not fully satisfied at all. Like he was pleased to see you falling apart for him like this, but needed to hear more. Feel more.
He withdrew from you, and you nearly collapsed with the absence of his arms holding you straight.
You pressed a shaky palm to the wall and almost moaned for him to get his ass back over here, you weren’t done, when Joel returned in a second. To your relief, his muscly arms found their way around your front once more, and his clock plunged back inside you, too—only this time, you sensed you were missing something else.
Water.
It wasn’t on your back anymore.
It was fanning between your legs.
Blasting the full force of its stream toward your most sensitive parts as Joel held the shower head up between your thighs. You would’ve jumped back and screamed were it not for his hand clamping tight over your mouth before you could, his lips grazing over your ear again.
“Try it one more time.”
You released a hoarse, muffled squeal into his palm when he lifted the stainless steel to your clit and started rolling his hips. The strokes themselves were relatively gentle, but paired with the ruthless spate of the water, your eyes were nearly rolling to the back of your head at the pulse.
You couldn’t breathe, much less speak. Joel hummed almost apologetically into your hair but didn’t seem sorry at all as he lowered his hand back down to your throat and squeezed. He continued rocking his hips into yours.
“You’ve said it dozens of times before—what’s’a matter?”
Joel Miller knew what the fuck was the matter. He just liked to see you desperate, fucked-out, and teetering on the brink of going feral before he let you reach your peak.
“D-D-D—”
Damn, you sounded stupid.
“D-D-Do you wanna cum? Is that it?” Joel said, mocking your struggle to articulate words as he fucked you.
In spite of your normal no-bullshit attitude toward him, you weren’t in quite the right frame of mind to be talking back to him. You just nodded and moaned, movements constricted by the grip of his fingers on your neck.
“Use those big girl words for me, honey. I know ya can.”
Again, you parted your lips and started to speak, but the oscillation of the water, the brush of his cock, the patently deprecating lilt in Joel’s string of praises, made it nearly impossible. You ended up sputtering again,
“D-D-ah-fuuuckfuckfuck.”
“That ain’t the word I’m looking for.”
But, just as you ventured to say it once more, he cut in,
“Here. Lemme help ya find it.”
Before you could blink, Joel was pistoning his hips against your ass like he had before, only this time, he held the shower head stationary between your legs as you seized and nearly fell to the floor with the force of all the pleasure coursing through you. Your body seemed to act of its own accord, head dropping to Joel’s shoulder and stomach giving an alarmingly fitful pinch as an orgasm tore through you. You couldn’t control how it came or where it went—or how your tongue jumped up and cried,
“Daddy!”
Joel nodded, fucking you through each violent spasm with all the composure and aplomb of a seasoned pro. While your eyes cycled back in the throes of delirium, he held firm and didn’t slow his hips—or the shower head.
You probably could’ve torn a hole through a cinder block if you’d happened to have one between your teeth just then. That was how fervid and merciless the aftershocks of your climax were pulsing through you, exacerbated to the nth degree by the continuity of Joel’s movements. You managed to grab the forearm that was holding the metal nozzle and plead a wild, slightly stifled, “JOEL!”
In truth, you didn’t really want him to stop. It felt too good. You could tell that Joel sensed this, too, because in the instant after that, his lips were sponging kisses to your shoulder, cock working steadily between your walls.
“One more, sweet pea.”
“Joel—”
“And say it louder this time.”
Were you in your right mind, you probably would’ve chided him for being so reckless and stupid about it all. How the fuck could he expect you to scream out loud when your dad was lounging right outside of your room? Did he really think the drone of Cillian Murphy’s smooth, American-ized tone would mask your unbridled moans? Honestly, you couldn’t be sure—and more importantly, you couldn’t be stopped to consider for much longer. With one last trembling vibration from the shower head and a thrust from Joel, you were cumming all over again.
Squeezing his arm, sinking into his sturdy frame, clenching over his cock in what felt like a hundred convulsions, and casting caution aside, you screamed:
“DADDY!”
You might’ve blacked out for a second or two.
Even a minute, as it was, because the next intelligible thing that reached your ears was the thunder of footfalls. And the thrum of Joel’s own hammering heart as he yanked you into his chest and stilled frozen inside you.
The door swung open on its hinges so hard it hit the wall.
“What is it, sweetie?!” your dad yelped.
“I—”
“Are you hurt?”
Just fucked raw by your best friend and shaking, Pops.
You sucked in a breath when Joel nudged your head with his nose and slowly pulled the shower curtain closed to move you out of view of the camera. But it was still there.
Your dad was still there.
The shower walls seemed to be closing in on you, but somehow, you managed, “No, dad, I’m fine! Just…coulda sworn I saw another spider in here, but it was nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
Your dad sounded unconvinced, pacing closer. You could’ve screamed, but Joel was likely holding you too tight to make any such sounds possible in that moment. The two of you recoiled, still stuck chest-to-back, away from the edge of the plastic shower liner when a boot thudded just outside the crack between curtain and wall.
You swallowed. Joel squeezed. Neither of you breathed.
“If it’s another roach, I gotta call the extermin—”
“No! No, it wasn’t a roach. I’m just seein’ things, I think.”
That didn’t seem to make your father feel any better, because he didn’t retreat like he had before. A tense moment fell over the compact, fog-infested room, like the man was chewing away at some thought in his head.
Then he sighed.
“Alright.”
Blissful footsteps away from the shower. You smiled.
Unfortunately, the grin was destined to be short-lived, because in the next instant, you heard boots screech to a halt on the tile. Pivoted, then paused where they stood.
Another gut-wrenching dozen seconds passed, and for one short, chilling moment, you could’ve sworn you felt your father’s gaze sear through the curtain and see you.
But he didn’t see you. Or Joel. Or anyone.
Instead, his gaze was fixed someplace else.
Suddenly, his voice rose above all the awful noises of clamor and panic in your brain, and broke out, loudly,
“What’s my camera doin’ in here?”
#TO THE CREATIVE MINDS WHO BROUGHT THIS MAN’S BUSH TO TELEVISION…..I OWE Y’ALL MY LIFE#it took COURAGE and TENACITY to decide that showing the happy trail was essential to the narrative#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us fic#joel miller x you#dbf!joel#dbf!joel miller
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The Importance of Studying Queerness in Context.
When studying queer history, one always has to keep in mind two seemingly contradictory things: firstly, that queerness and queer people have always existed, but at the same time, that queerness and queer identities have not always existed the way they exist today.
Modern queer terms and identities did not exist to queer people in the past. They would not have thought of themselves as "gay" or "trans" or even "queer." While these modern terms may seem to fit certain historic individuals, these individuals would not have thought of themselves as such, and it would not be a part of their lived experience. To apply the modern identities of queerness to history is to erase the lives and experiences of queer people in history, and care must always be taken to understand queer history within the context of its time.
When looking at queer history online, there is a *lot* of misinformation and misidentification out there simply because people are eager to apply modern queerness to history, often in places where it doesn't belong.
A lot of old photos get misidentified as gay because they show two people of the same sex showing some level of physical affection towards each other. Okay, I'll admit that the open-mouth kissing photobooth pictures are probably actually gay, but an old picture of two men or two women holding hands or with their arms around each other, or even kissing on the cheek, were common shows of platonic affection.
I hate to break everyone's gay little hearts, but without explicit documentation saying so, assuming that these couples are all gay is putting modern queer identity in places where it simply didn't exist. The women in the final picture are sisters. The "not married" boys are bachelors interested in marrying women.
In the silent film Wings, the emotional climax of the film comes in the form of a kiss exchanged between the characters played by Jack Powell and David Armstrong. It often gets attributed as the first gay kiss in cinema history, even on the fucking YouTube clip I found:
youtube
Except it isn't gay. The two men spend the whole film fighting over who gets to be Clara Bow's boyfriend. When Richard Arlen's character is fatally wounded, his dear friend rushes to his side and kisses him goodbye, because in the 1920s, that was considered the ultimate show of friendship. The movie ends with Jack Powell falling in love with Clara Bow.
Similarly, a kiss shared between Lillian and Dorothy Gish in the 1921 movie Orphans of the Storm often gets attributed as being queer, but it wasn't.
They were sisters playing sisters. None of this was considered unusual.
Pooh-poohing on all of these images that so many people on the internet breathlessly and joyously laud as proud gay history isn't fun. It makes me feel like I'm fucking Ben Shapiro. But if misinformation is allowed to flourish, it allows people like Ben Shapiro to come in and make the argument that queerness is a modern invention and queer people didn't exist in the past.
Everyone loves to see queerness represented in history, but the fact is that none of the stuff in this post would have been seen as explicitly gay and thus shouldn't be called gay today. If we are to understand queer history in its fullness and richness, it is absolutely crucial that we get it right. We owe it to our queer ancestors to recognize, honor, and not embellish the actual lives they lived.
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The Good Omens Fandom has had a lot of fun recently with the knowledge of Aziraphale and Crowley holding hands on the bus at the end of season 1.
Soo here's everything that went through my head as I learned of it for the first time.
For that entire scene, Aziraphale is really far gone. He's dissociating so hard he can't even realize he's been sitting on a sword. Crowley is probably the only thing keeping him grounded.
They just narrowly stopped Armageddon after a showdown with literally Satan, and still can't let their guard down. For the first time ever, they're completely on their own side. Now they have to orchestrate a body swap to save both of them. They wouldn't just be killed, they'd be completely destroyed. Everything must go exactly according to plan, but how often does that actually happen?
And on top of that, his bookshop, his home, his safe place with the demon he has to pretend not to love is burned and gone.
Crowley is so incredibly gentle and reassuring this entire scene. He's been through so much trauma himself and has spent a lot of his existence shielding the angel from it, hoping to protect some of his innocence and naivete. Crowley is absolutely familiar with every symptom of PTSD and anxiety.
Now he has to see his sweet angel see such a small bit of the horrors of heaven and hell and start to crumble inside. He's going to do his dam best to try and help Aziraphale through it. Speaking softly, ("the bookshop burned down... remember?) slowly and carefully, gradually helping to pull the angel back to reality, reminding him that he's there and will help ground him.
They get on the bus, and sit next to each other. 11 years ago, they sat nearby but separated while Crowley begs Aziraphale to help him prevent the Apocalypse. Now they are sitting together. Both an act of reassurance and unity.
Crowley sits first, Aziraphale could so easily just sit across from him, behind or in front. But he chooses to sit right next to him. And hold his hand. Aziraphale desperately needs to be near to the *former* demon he loves, to hold him, to make sure they won't be separated.
In the book, their famous lines of "none of this would have worked out if you weren't, deep down, just a bit of a good person" and "just enough of a b*stard to be worth liking" came as Satan rose from the earth, as a goodbye in case they were destroyed.
Luckily, that didn't happen and they survived. Armaggedon was stopped. But the angel is still so anxious of losing Crowley. So he chooses to reach out, to anchor himself and reassure himself that Crowley is still there beside him and that they are okay, at least for a few minutes.
And Crowley let him. He knows how badly Aziraphale needs him, he needs the angel just as much. He knows how badly he craved an anchor and support system as he was first abused and traumatized by his Fall, then further by Hell. So he's going to continue being there for Aziraphale, doing everything he can to make his angel feel safe and comfortable.
Over the next few years, Aziraphale would become so much more comfortable reaching out and touching Crowley. Leaning into him, resting a hand on his shoulder or briefly touching his chest. Somehow both reassuring himself that the former demon was still there, and reminding Crowley that he's still there for him at the same time.
Then Crowley becomes more comfortable with the touch, leaning into the angel by himself. No longer flinching at a sudden graze of a hand or reassuring squeeze.
That one moment of the two holding hands on the bus cemented so much of their relationship. "The last few years, not really..." all started on that bus the moment Aziraphale chose to sit down next to Crowley.
edited: at first this said "new knowledge" because I just found out about this all the other day, and wrote this up at 3 AM, and didn't really fact check when this knowledge became well known. I've only really been a GO fan since maybe 2021, and only really started being active in the fandom during the last few months, so a lot of info that is fairly well known is still generally new to me. soo yeah this was edited :)
source for anyone asking for it!
#good omens spoilers#crowley#aziracrow#ineffable husbands#aziraphale#good omens#go2#bus scene#they like holding hands#neil gaiman#david tennant#michael sheen
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Mike has a feelings for you (fluff)
Prompt: While babysitting Abby she tells you that Mike has a crush on you
Pairing: Reader x Mike Schmidt
----
“I can’t believe I have to fucking work today,” Mike says, pulling his gray security shirt on. “I told them I can only work during the week!”
Your best friend scrambles around the living room, looking for his phone, keys, and wallet- all of which are in various places. You are currently sitting on the couch, watching all of this unfold. He was always leaving his items in various places. How many times had you told him to leave them in the same spot?
He finds his keys and phone and shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans.
“Where is my wallet?” he says, running his fingers through his already messy brown hair.
“Did you check your room?” you ask.
He quickly leaves the room and returns moments later with his wallet in his hand.
Mike let’s out a sigh and looks over at you. “Are you sure you’re ok watching her? I can always call Max.”
“I don’t mind watching her at all,” you tell him.
You stand up and walk over to your best friend. Wrapping your arms around his waist you pull him into a tight hug. He instantly relaxes and wraps his arms around you.
“You have no idea how amazing you are,” Mike tells you, smiling.
You laugh as Mike takes a step back and towards the front door.
“Thank you so much for watching her,” Mike calls. “I owe you!”
“Hey Abs,” you say, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “What are you drawing?”
Abby smiles and passes you the sheet of paper. There is a white house with a large tree and three people standing out front. A man, a woman, and a child.
“You have to tell me who everyone is,” you say, pointing to the three people.
Abby stands up and comes to sit besides you on the bed. Her small hand points to the man on the page, “That’s Mike,” she moves her hand to the woman, “you,” and points to the child, “and that’s me.”
You weren’t shocked that you were drawn- Abby tended to draw the three of you alot. Mike and you had been best friends since middle school and you loved Abby like she was your little sister. Most of her drawings were things the three of you had done together or what she wanted to do with the two of you.
“And who’s house is this?” you question.
“We all live there together,” Abby states.
“Oh, that sounds fun,” you reply.
“Yea! Because you and Mike are going to get married!”
Abby’s comment throws you off. Not once has she ever asked about your and her brother's relationship.
“What makes you think we’re getting married?”
“Because Mike has a crush on you,” Abby says, shrugging.
You laugh. “No he doesn’t.”
Abby nods her head. “Yes he does. He says your name a lot in his sleep.”
“But that doesn’t mean he has a crush on me,” you tell her.
Abby’s silent for a moment then answers quietly. “You make him smile and laugh and he’s always happy when you’re around. He’s not like that around anyone else.”
Her answer surprises you but kids are very perceptive. Instead of pressing any further, you tell Abby to start to get ready for bed.
“Do you have a crush on Mike?” Abby askes as you tuck her in to her bed.
“Oh…um…yea, I do,” you tell her.
Little does Abby know but you are in love with her brother.
Abby smiles and nods and you turn the light off, closing the door behind you as you walk back to the living room.
—-
Abby falls asleep quickly and you sit in the living room watching tv. Your mind keeps going back to conversation with Abby. Does Mike really have a crush on you?
Abby doesn't know it (well maybe she figured it out) but you’ve had feelings for Mike for a long time. You loved your relationship with Mike and didn’t want to jeopardize it so you never made any indication or moves towards him. You had hoped that maybe he would be the first one to make a move but he never did.
All of the sudden it hits you, how tired you are. You stand up from the couch and stretch and slowly walk back towards Mikes room. This isn’t the first time you had slept over. Many times after Abby had gone to sleep, you and Mike would stay up together, hanging out. At first Mike insisted that you sleep at his house but now he didn’t even have to say anything- you would just crash on his bed, next to him.
It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep and a few hours later, the bed dips slightly as Mike lays down next to you- waking you but only for a brief moment.
—-
The sun peeks through the curtains in Mikes room and the smell of bacon and pancakes wake you up from your sleep.
The spot on the bed next to you is disheveled -the only evidence that Mike has slept there.
As you lay in bed for another minute, you hear voices drifting down the hallway. You can’t make out what they are saying but you can tell it’s Mike and Abby.
Standing up, you walk into the hallway but hang back for a moment- waiting to see what they are talking about.
“Did you know that Y/N had a crush on you?” Abby tells Mike.
“How do you know?” you hear him ask.
“She told me,” Abby states matter of factly.
It’s then that you decide to walk into the small kitchen. Abby and Mike are both sitting at the small kitchen table, eating bacon and pancakes.
“Morning,” you say, walking over to the coffee maker.
“Morning,” Abby and Mike say at the same time.
Mike's hair is sticking up in various directions and he looks like he just woke up. His dark t-shirt hugs his frame and you know he’s wearing his favorite pair of flannel pajama pants.
“I’m going to go draw,” Abby says, leaving you and Mike alone in the kitchen.
Mike watches as you pour yourself a glass of coffee but don’t turn around to face him.
“So,” he begins. “Abby told me something interesting…”
“And what was that?” you question, although you already know the answer.
“She said that you have a crush on me.”
“Oh. Why would she say that?”
“She said that you told her you did.”
You turn around to face your best friend, your eyes locking with his. His cheeks are slightly pink and it makes you feel better that this conversation might be slightly embarrassing for him as well.
“I-uh-,” you stammer.
Mike stands up and walks over to you and your back presses against the counter. He slowly moves his hands to your waist, waiting to see how you’ll react. When you don’t move away, he grips your waist, his brown eyes locking with yours.
“What if I told you that I had a crush on you?” he says.
A soft smile crosses your lips and Mike reaches up and places his hand against your cheek, his thumb moving in small circles.
You move your arms up and snake them around his neck, waiting for him to make the next move. His body is pressed against yours and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest.
Within moments, he leans down and brushes his lips against yours before pulling away.
“Why did you stop?” you tease him.
He smiles as his presses his lips against yours and they move together, almost as if the two of you had done this before.
#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt fnatf#mike schmidt#mike schmidt fnaf#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson imagine#fnaf mike#fnaf mike schmidt#mike Schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#josh hutcherson x reader
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Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2
<- Previous - Next ->
Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep
A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!
Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.
here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.
Simon.
You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.
Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!
Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?
See you soon!
You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.
So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.
Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.
she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.
Simon.
You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.
You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.
Understood. Thanks again!
--------------
"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.
You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.
You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?
"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."
You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.
"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."
You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"
Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"
"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.
He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."
You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"
Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.
He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.
But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.
"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."
"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."
He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...
He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.
You faltered. "Sorry...?"
"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"
You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.
"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.
He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.
"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.
"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.
"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"
He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."
Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.
"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.
Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.
He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.
But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?
He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-
Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.
Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."
He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.
He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.
Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.
------------
Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae
Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost#simon riley x reader smut#ghost x reader smut#ghost smut#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley smut#cod fanfiction#cod mw3#cod mw2#call of duty#cod#cod x reader
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spilling secrets on stream | LN4
what better place to hard launch a relationship than twitch?
word count: 1.3k
warnings: none!
author's note: it's been so fun thinking up little story ideas and this is the product of one of them. fair warning that it's been forever since i've played fortnite so probably not very accurate when it comes to that 🤦♀️ thank youuu for reading and have a great day!!
also my requests are open if you would like to see a certain story/driver!! 🫶
“Hi guys, sorry I’m late,” Lando said, adjusting his headphones as he started the stream. There were a surprising number of people online for this Thursday afternoon, but he had posted on his story that Max would be joining him, so that could explain the popularity. Not that he would ever tell him that.
“Max is joining now.” He stretched his arms over his head, smirking when the chat quickly noticed the sliver of skin he’d exposed in the simple motion. Oops. “Is Max with you right now? No, chat, I’m in Monaco. How’s offseason? It’s good. I’ve been doing a whole lot of nothing.”
Lando read through and answered a couple more questions until Max’s face popped up on his screen.
“Hello hello,” Max said, waving to the camera. “How are we, chat? What are we playing?”
After a couple minutes of debate, they decided on Fortnite. The first round was short lived- Lando got shot pretty much immediately. Now, him and Max were two of ten players remaining, but the sound of the front door opening caused him to turn his focus away from the game.
“y/n?” Lando called out after muting himself, turning away from the screen to see if his girlfriend had just arrived home.
“Bro, what are you doing?” Max protested, his character running circles around Lando’s still one. Two other characters spotted them over a nearby hill and started firing immediately, with Max left alone to defend them. “You muppet!” Within seconds, Lando had died, and Max didn’t have enough time to resuscitate him in the midst of defending himself.
“My bad.” Lando turned back to the screen, laughing at Max’s distress.
“That was entirely your fault.” Max responded, pausing to look at his phone alert from Lando.
I think y/n just got back and she doesn’t know I’m on stream. Can you stay on until I get back?
Even though Lando and his girlfriend were practically living together at this point, staying at each other’s homes almost every night during the offseason, they were yet to make it official in the eyes of the public. Max knew this better than everyone- often having to cover for the couple when they weren’t cautious enough- and smirked as he typed back a yes. Lando took that as a sign to communicate his exit. “Be right back, chat. Don’t be too mean to Max while I’m gone.”
He opened and shut the door to the room behind him, padding down the soft carpet runner of the hallway. “y/n?” Her bright pink trainers were by the front door, and seeing as he could hear the shower down the hall, she must’ve just come back from a run.
All of a sudden, music started blasting- a Doja Cat song, Lando knew from y/n's time on the aux whenever they were in the car together.
“y/n,” Lando laughed, knocking on the bathroom door, “I’m on stream darling.” It wasn’t that he minded the noise, or that the chat would know very quickly that there was a girl in his house (he wasn’t really the Doja Cat type). If it were up to him, he would’ve posted y/n the day they had made it official, four months ago. But they’d decided to wait a bit and enjoy the privacy.
No response still. He tried the bathroom door handle but it was locked. She must’ve not known he was coming home, Lando thought cheekily to himself. Otherwise, it would’ve been open. He gave up and retreated back to the room with his setup, shooting a quick text over to y/n that he was home.
Lando settled back into his chair, turning the camera on. “Alright, chat, I’m back. Sorry to leave you with Max.”
Max raised an eyebrow at the music that filtered in through Lando’s mic, choosing not to comment on it. The chat wasn’t as sly though, with every other comment questioning the source.
“Didn’t know Lando was a Doja Cat fan. I’m not.” The ambiguous comment sparked even more questions, and Lando just shook his head jokingly as they started another game. As he died for a third time, Max cursing and threatening to find someone better to play with, the music cut and the distant sound of the shower running stopped.
“Lando?” y/n called out, freezing as she read over his text in the hallway. Lando’s eyes widened and he quickly muted himself, sliding his headphones off. As he stood up he heard y/n's footsteps nearing the door and managed to shut the camera off just in time.
Lando pulled open the door and the scent of coconut and hibiscus floated in. y/n looked up at him with wide eyes in sweatpants and a stolen Quadrant t-shirt, her hair still wet from the shower.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize that you were streaming.” She peeked over his shoulder and her eyes widened at the rapidly scrolling chat, the viewers going crazy about the distinctly female voice they’d overheard. Max had given up at pretending to ignore them and had shut off his camera as well, only adding to the viewers assumptions.
He pulled her into a hug, mumbling “You smell good.” into her hair as a way of greeting. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly, rocking back and forth.
“Did they hear me?”
“Yeah.” They shuffled over to the computer together, her almost afraid to read the chat that was still scrolling at a million miles a minute. Lando read out one comment that said “can Lando’s girlfriend fight?” and raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl next to him.
“Heck yeah. Look at these muscles. Try me.” She bounced back and forth on her heels, hands up in a boxing stance.
Lando laughed at her, locking her in a headlock that she quickly wiggled out of. “Not fair,” she whined. “Caught me by surprise.”
He pulled her in front of him to straighten out the locks of hair he’d mussed, and kissed her forehead before looking down at her. “What if we told them about us right now?”
“You think?” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, and he ran a gentle thumb over it to get her to stop.
“I think they’re going to love you as much as I do.” She leaned into him at that statement, and he watched her eyes as she seemed to process his statement.
“Alright,” she still looked hesitant, but brightened up as she opened her mouth to speak again. “I’m already wearing the right shirt and everything.”
“Quadrants #1 fan.” He smiled, pulling her over to the computer. They split the chair so that both of them could sit, and she draped her legs comfortably over his. He rested one hand on her thigh, using the other to restart the stream. “Ready?”
She nodded, and all of a sudden they were back online.
“Hi, chat.” Lando smiled, laughing as the comments started pouring in. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you to someone. This is my girlfriend, y/n.”
“Hi, everyone,” y/n said, sporting a smile to match her boyfriend’s. “How are you doing?”
“Finally.” Max let out a sigh, clicking his camera back on.
“Thanks for covering for us, Max.” The trio sat and talked for a little bit, y/n answering questions for her from the chat that Lando pointed out every once in a while. They eventually turned the game back on, y/n holding her own and often outranking Max and Lando. In the midst of waiting for a new game to load, Lando wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing her side.
“I’m so glad I get to show you off now.”
@landonorris: kiss me more 👩❤️💋👨
@y/nl/n: cat’s out of the bag 🤭
#f1 fanfic#f1 x y/n#mclaren f1#f1 fic#lando norris fluff#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris#f1 x reader
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Hi !! I don’t know if you’re taking requests rn, sorry in advance if you aren’t ^_^
Could you do hcs of Hashiras if you try to flirt with them, but you’re an awkward, shy type of person? (+they like you back)
When you try to flirt with the Hashira
———————————————————————
Shy/Awkward reader
Prompt: You had been crushing on ___ the moment you became a Hashira, the feeling only growing deeper the more you got to know them. A friend you had met through the Demon Slayer Corps caught onto this and encouraged you to say something, giving you countless ideas. You eventually gave in, deciding to go with a pickup line they recommended. Why? Hell if you knew, but it was worth a try..right?
———————————————————————
Gyomei Himejima
“You must be a hell of a thief, because you managed to steal my heart the moment I met you”
Gyomei blinked in utter confusion
Were you flirting with him?
Gyomei turned to you - and although he couldn’t see, he could practically feel the embarrassment and regret coming from you
Gyomei smiled, taking your hand and kissing the back of it
“Well, I have no intentions of giving it back”
Sanemi Shinazugawa
“I was wondering if you’re an artist because you’re so good at drawing me in”
Sanemi froze, turning to face you in disbelief
There’s no way someone like you was openly flirting
You immediately apologized, quickly turning on your heel and leaving
You got two steps in before Sanemi grabbed your wrist, turning you around and pulling you back
The two of you were suddenly close, Sanemi’s breath fanning over your neck
“Where are you going? I haven’t signed my artwork yet”
Obanai Iguro
“Do you have a map? I just got lost in your eyes”
Obanai turned to face you with wide eyes
Due to their difference in color, Obanai’s eyes were an insecurity of his
His face began to turn red as he hid behind his hand
“Thank you…your eyes are beautiful, too”
Mitsuri Kanroji
“When I look in your eyes, I see a very kind soul”
Mitsuri squealed
She knew that it was out of your nature to flirt, and she saw how you were a tad bit uncomfortable, so she found you downright adorable
Mitsuri immediately pulled you into a hug, continuously squealing about how cute you were
You won over her heart
Kyōjurō Rengoku
“No wonder the sky is gray, all the color is in your eyes”
Rengoku stared at you with wide eyes, surprised that you were openly flirting
Being his usual self - Rengoku began to laugh
You took it the wrong way and immediately began to regret what you said, wishing that the ground would swallow you whole
Rengoku noticed your shift in mood and paused his laughter, placing his hand on your shoulder
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I wasn’t making fun of you, I was laughing because you were so adorable”
Rengoku gently kissed your cheek, pulling away and smiling at you,
“I’m afraid that you’re the one with the color in your eyes”
Muichiro Tokito
“There must be something wrong with my eyes - I can’t seem to take them off of you”
Muichiro blankly stared at you, trying to process what you had said
You began to fidget with your fingers, feeling as if Muichiro didn’t like what you said
After a moment of silence, Muichiro grabbed your hand and smiled,
“Who says you have to take them off of me?”
Shinobu Kocho
“Do you happen to have a Band-Aid? I scraped my knees falling for you”
Shinobu automatically began to reach for a band-aid before she paused, realizing that you were flirting with her
She turned to face you, gently smiling
“Well then, looks like we’re going to have to kiss those scrapes better, huh?”
Tengen Uzui
“So, aside from taking my breath away, what do you do for a living?”
Tengen immediately turned to face you, his jaw agape
“Are you flirting with me?!”
Intimidated by his loudness, you slowly nodded as you avoided eye contact
Tengen placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head up,
“I like it, how flashy. And, to answer your question…”
Tengen leaned in closer, his breath tickling your ear,
“It looks like I’m doing you for a living”
Giyu Tomioka
“Your eyes are like the ocean; I could swim in them all day”
Giyu blinked in confusion as he stared at you for a few minutes
“Were you…flirting with me?”
You began to feel embarrassed as you shyly nodded
“Well, if it were you…”
Giyu paused, kissing your forehead,
“I’d let you swim in my eyes forever”
#x reader#gender neutral reader#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer headcanons#demon slayer hashira#gyomei himejima#gyomei x reader#sanemi shinaguzawa#sanemi x reader#obanai iguro#obanai x reader#mitsuri kanroji#mitsuri x reader#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku x reader#muichiro tokito#muichiro x reader#shinobu kochou#shinobu x reader#tengen uzui#tengen x reader#giyu tomioka#giyu x reader
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How would Spencer react to the f!reader eating a sucker in a very provocative way during a meeting?
I decided to change this up a bit. Rather than it being during a meeting, it's just randomly around the office because eating a sucker/lollipop during a meeting would be annoying af.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
How would Spencer Reid react to you teasing him with a lollipop?
Warnings: reader can definitely be interpreted as gender neutral because there isn't much description of them beyond their mouth (sorry if that isn't what you wanted lmao); this is very sensual/smutty toned (but there is no sex scenes); Spencer is thinking about sex acts/is having sexual fantasies about the reader; heavy sexual innuendo; definitely leans more toward Sub!Spencer; I was thinking of S4/S5 Spencer when I wrote this but you can imagine any Spencer; background Morcia; implications of Spencer masturbating in the bathroom at work. Reader loves teasing Spencer - idk what else. Not really proofread.
"Oooh, what's this?" You asked, walking up to see a large bowl of candy sitting in the middle of Morgan's desk.
"Leftovers from Halloween." Prentiss explained, not looking up from the file that she was reading. "Of course, Garcia put them on Morgan's desk. What was it that she said?"
"A little something sweet for my something sweet." JJ recited the words from her place at the coffee machine with a laugh.
"Oh, he is gonna love that when he comes in." You chuckled.
You knew that he wasn't going to eat all of it himself, and Garcia likely intended it as a pick-n-go for the office anyway - so you took a careful glance into the bowl and then picket an appealing round lollipop. A blow-pop, you quickly realized. Very nice. You knew the gum in the middle was crappy, but you would have fun seeing how long it would take to get to it, and it was cherry flavoured - one of your favourite candy flavours.
You grabbed it up and a few others to slip into your desk drawers, along with taking a few packets of M&Ms for your favourite desk neighbour. When you walked over to your desk that was in front of his, you tossed the candy so that it hit the front of his chest, and Spencer jumped violently, having been scared right out of his concentration from whatever he was reading. A thick academic paper, from the looks of it.
You heard Emily's nasel chuckle in from behind you at how hard he had jumped.
"Good morning." You greeted him with a wide smile as he glared at you, but took the candy and began opening it anyway.
"Yeah." He scoffed.
"You're welcome." You also said, nodding toward the candy in his hand.
"Did you know that M&Ms shortly after their creation, M&Ms were exclusively distributed to the US military during World War II as a part of soldier's rations?" Spencer stated, giving another one of his 'fun facts'.
"Due to the candy coating making them far less perishable, and far easier to transport due to the fact that they were less likely to melt. At the time, they were packaged in cardboard tubes and featured a violet colour among the candies. And that's how they became famously known as 'the candy that melts in your mouth, not in your hand'." Spencer explained, the last words becoming muffled as he stuffed some of the candy into his mouth.
"And now they have gone from feeding soldiers to being the breakfast of a skinny little genius like you." You joked, unwrapping your lollipop and raising it to your lips.
You were one of the people who joked about it, but you secretly loved the fact that he was skinny. You would never tell, but you imagined pinning him down and him not being able to get away because of his lack of muscle.
Spencer would have made some clever reply, but instead, his eyes became locked on your lips.
Watching your lips gently wrap around the roundness of the lollipop immediately sparked something in him. From that moment, his eyes focused on nothing but your mouth, and he absolutely lost all train of thought - including the fact that he had been reading something before you even sat down.
It wasn't even intentional at first. At first, you were just enjoying a random sweet treat at seven o'clock in the morning, going about small things like taking off your jacket and getting the files organized on your desk, and when you looked up to ask Reid if he had a spare red pen that you could use to mark off some things - that was when you noticed it.
That far off, glassy look in his eye that you had never seen before.
He was staring at your lips, hard, clearly not even realizing that he was doing it - at this point, the candy had just barely stained the inner part of your mouth red, and he was being driven insane, imagining himself running his thumb or even the head of his leaking cock along that spot, feeling the pure softness of your lips, having your sweet tongue reach out to meet the throbbing head of his-
"Reid?"
The sudden sound of your voice seemed to shake him from this daydream.
You pulled the lollipop from your mouth with a wet smack, and he swallowed a whimper - it was a sound so subtle that you wouldn't have been able to hear it if you hadn't been carefully listening. You clenched your jaw, suppressing a smirk. You didn't want him to know that he had been caught. Not yet.
"Um - ah - yeah?" He stuttered out, quickly looking back down at the papers in the middle of his desk, trying not to make it seem like he had been staring at you so blatantly.
"Can I borrow a red pen?" You asked, trying to give him your best look of feigned innocence as you placed the cherry red bulb back to your lips while waiting for his answer, gently tracing your tongue around it.
You loved the way his eyes clung to this action like a magnet, his own lips dropping open slightly as he let out a hot breath in awe, his pupils blown wide.
His pants were suddenly very tight.
Spencer had to purposefully tear his eyes away from your mouth when you began oh-so-slowly teasing the lollipop in and out of your lips, forcing him to perfectly picture the round head of his cock fucking between those perfect cherry lips.
He frantically looked around his desk, and grabbed the first pen with a red cap that he could find.
"Here you go." He mumbled, tossing it onto your desk, not even bothering to hand it to you.
He then grabbed his messenger bag from underneath his desk and so subtly placed it at his front while he scrambled off toward the bathroom. You simply let out a laugh and then shoved the candy into your mouth fully, looking back down at your files and getting to work.
Spencer could only pray that you would be done with the lollipop by the time he got back.
A/N: Okay this definitely turned more into the style of a blurb, but what I love about writing requests right in my inbox is that I don't need to do a super defined style, I can just write whatever comes off the top of my head and I don't have to worry about over-editing stuff. It's great for creativity and it's almost like a writing exercise? Anyway, I had a lot of fun with this.
Criminal Minds Masterlist
#sundrop writes#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic
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hi! i was wondering if i could request your thoughts/drabble on how the 141 would react if a mission went awful and you were left in the hospital with amnesia! like the reader wakes up and has no memory of her team🥲
if you aren’t taking requests atm or this doesn’t fit with your writing, i completely understand and you can ignore this! just wanted to say i binged your masterlist and absolutely love all your writings! keep up the amazing content <3
the 141 when you have amnesia
note: AAA TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!!!! and ty for reading my stuff, it means a lot!! i had so much fun writing this it's unbelievable, this concept is just so JUICY,,, i really hope you like it!! <3
wc: 2.8k
warnings: established relationship, angst sadness and depression wow i did not mean for this to get so sad
ao3
[part two]
price
✹ he would undoubtedly blame himself for what happened to you. as your captain, it was his job to keep you safe and make sure you came home in one piece, and he'd failed you there.
✹ weeks and weeks go by as he waits endlessly for you to wake up, and with every day that ends with you still unconscious, he feels his resolve slipping just a little bit more.
✹ he holds himself together as well as he can, keeping his head high and projecting confidence that you'd be okay, if only to keep the team's spirit up. they still needed their captain, and he'd be damned if he failed them too.
✹ behind closed doors, however, he's a mess.
✹ john drinks, a lot, so much that it’s irresponsible, but the image of you, beaten and bloody and barely breathing haunts him every time he closes his eyes. he locks himself in his office, away from the others and ignores their concerned calls through the door.
✹ he visits you, only when it's late and there's no one else around to hear him whisper apologies to you with a lump in his throat. he confesses to you like a sinner, all the things he wishes he'd done differently, how he'd put himself in your place in a heartbeat if it meant you'd be okay.
✹ other than those nights, he does his best to stay away from the infirmary. it’s selfish, but he can’t bear to see you in such a fragile state.
✹ he’s in his office when you wake up.
✹ the nurse finds him on his second drink of the night, and no sooner than the news leaves her mouth he's pushing past her and rushing to the infirmary. he bursts through the door, startling you and the other nurse with you.
✹ "hey, sweetheart." he’s by your side in an instant, taking one of your hands in both of his as he gazes lovingly into your eyes. it feels like it's been an age since you've looked at him, the sight of your eyes alone almost has the dam behind his own breaking.
✹ you’re staring back at him with a somewhat lost expression, but john’s so relieved that you’re here, that you're back, it slips his notice.
✹ he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, like he's done hundreds of times before, but you stop him by placing your other hand on his chest. he pulls back with a concerned frown, finally noticing the unsure look you're wearing.
✹ the nurse briefly explains that some memory loss is common for the amount of head trauma you sustained. he should've expected something like this, in fact it's a miracle you made it out with just memory loss.
✹ "i'm sorry, can you tell me who you are?" you ask meekly, looking back at him with an apologetic look in your eye. you look guilty, like it's your fault this happened and not because of his own shortcomings.
✹ john's heart sinks at your words, but he's careful not to show it. amnesia can be temporary, he knows that, he just has to jog your memory.
✹ "i'm john," he smiles as warmly as he can through the panic in his chest, lifting his left hand to show you the wedding band on his finger, "your husband."
✹ your jaw falls open, your eyes wide as you look between the ring, his face, and the nurse behind him, who simply nods in confirmation of the captain's words.
✹ "you're…" you mutter, disbelief taking over your voice, "my husband?"
✹ you take his left hand in yours, bringing it closer to your face and examining the wedding band, a tiny smile pulling at one corner of your lips.
✹ "yes, love," his chest rumbles with a chuckle, grasping your left hand and showing you the matching band on your own finger, "we're married."
✹ "seriously?" you ask, comparing the rings on your fingers and looking back up to him with an almost comically surprised face. john nods again, his moustache tilted with an amused smile.
✹ "been together for nearly seven years."
✹ "how the hell did i convince you to marry me?" you mutter. at that, he lets out a real laugh, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
✹ "think i should be the one askin' that question."
gaz
✹ kyle takes it harder than anyone.
✹ he visited you once, at the first opportunity when you were stable enough to not require constant observation, but the sight ruins him. you looked so weak, nothing like how you should; your cheeks were sunken and your skin has a sickly sheen to it, and there was nothing he could do to help you.
✹ he couldn't stand it.
✹ he becomes so easily irritated, a hair trigger just waiting to snap. the others want to help him, but he won't let them get close enough to try. any mention of your name has him shutting down, leaving faster than they can finish their sentence.
✹ he barely sleeps, spending most nights curled up in your bed with his tears soaking your pillow. he surrounds himself with your clothes, things that smell like you, but your scent eventually fades and he just feels so alone without you.
✹ price finds him like that one night, sitting on the floor with his back leaning against your bed after throwing up from crying so hard. he hauls kyle up by the collar of his shirt, and forces him to meet his stern eyes through the tears.
✹ "pull yourself together, garrick! they need you to be strong for them, how d'you think they're gonna feel when they wake up and see you like this?"
✹ after that it's like the spell is broken, and he realises just how pathetic he's been acting. in the weeks you've been out, he's only visited you – his partner – once. you'd never forgive him if you knew.
✹ from that night onwards, he visits you at least once a day, filling multiple vases around your bed with beautiful flowers and making sure they never wilt.
✹ he got 'get well soon' cards for you too, having each of your teammates, and even kate, sign one to decorate your room.
✹ you wake up surrounded by life and colour, physical evidence of how much he loves you that puts a smile on your exhausted face, even if you don't know who left them.
✹ he's off base when you wake up, picking up a fresh bouquet for your room. his phone rings as he's leaving the florists, and as soon as he hears the nurse's voice he's sprinting back to his car, throwing the flowers onto the passenger seat and racing back to base.
✹ he bursts through the infirmary doors to see you standing with the help of the nurse, your legs wobbly but your face determined. he almost breaks down in the doorway.
✹ when you look up and meet his eyes, he feels his heart stutter in his chest. he rushes towards you, the new bouquet slipping from his fingers, and almost knocks you off your feet with the how hard he embraces you.
✹ you let out a small 'oomph' as he squeezes you, hesitantly wrapping your own arms around his torso. he sniffles into your shoulder, a few tears wetting your shirt despite his attempts to hold them back.
✹ "hey, uhm…" your voice reaches his ears, hoarse with disuse, "are you okay? what's your name?"
✹ "what?" kyle lifts his head, pulling back to mirror your confused gaze. "babe, what're you on about?"
✹ the nurse pulls him aside, leaving you sitting on the edge of your bed as she explains your amnesia to him.
✹ you really didn't remember him. his heart withers in his chest, the pain of losing you all over again spreading to the ends of every limb.
✹ "no, no no no–" he mumbles, stumbling back over to where you sit and cupping your worried face so gently, like you'd break if he was too rough. "please, love, you have to remember"
✹ you cover his hands with your own, a few tears falling from your eyes and rolling hot against kyle's palms. "i'm sorry, i want to remember, but…"
✹ "please, i love you…"
soap
✹ johnny spends every free moment at your bedside.
✹ he talks to you, tells you stories about everything that's happened since you've been asleep; the time ghost burnt dinner and set the fire alarms off, a robin that landed on the windowsill of your shared room, anything that comes to mind.
✹ sometimes he plays your favourite songs, sitting on the end of your bed softly humming along, praying that you'll hear it and come back to him.
✹ most often though, he draws you. he fills page after page of his sketchbook with sketches of you; the peaceful look on your face as you lay next to him, memories from before the accident, the two of you together – though he always puts infinitely more detail into you than himself.
✹ similarly to the captain, johnny stays positive about your condition, refusing to even entertain the idea of you not waking up. he's optimistic, and so good at hiding the anguish of being without you that even ghost is fooled by his facade.
✹ he won't let the others worry about him. you're the one in the hospital, you're the one that deserves their sympathies, he has to stay positive for everyone so they don't worry, so you have something familiar to come back to when you wake up–
✹ in reality, he's living in denial. he's on the verge of a steep mental nosedive, and if he looks past his delusions for even a second, he's afraid he'll spiral into a pit he won't be able to claw his way back out of.
✹ so he continues to live like that. he has one-sided conversations with you, going on for hours as if you're talking back to him. he brings you your favourite meal when the mess hall makes it, putting it on your bedside table so you can reach it and clearing it up the next day when he comes back.
✹ when you eventually, finally wake up, he's already there with you.
✹ it was late, and against the nurse's wishes he'd climbed into your hospital bed with you, an arm around your shoulder holding you close his chest while his other hand doodles away in his sketchbook.
✹ you let out a small sound and shift against him, and his heart skips a beat under your ear at the realiseation that you're back.
✹ any lingering tiredness immediately disappears from his mind, as he throws his sketchbook carelessly onto the side table and wastes no time in gathering you up into his arms and bringing you into a crushing hug.
✹ a groggy, surprised noise leaves you, the sound of your voice lighting up johnny's face with a smile so wide it aches. he loosens his hold just enough to hold the side of your head with one hand, gazing into your eyes like you were the only person in the world.
✹ "there y'are, bonnie, i missed you so much,"
✹ he presses his lips to the top of your head, his eyes glassing and his heart full with how relieved he is that you're awake.
✹ "...what's going on?" you mutter, your eyes darting all over his face and to the room around you with a confused furrow in your brow.
✹ "lemme call the nurse," he replies with an easy, comforting smile, reaching somewhere behind him for the call button.
✹ while you wait for the nurse, he helps you sit up, adjusting the pillows behind your back so you can sit comfortably, all the while rambling about everything and nothing all at once.
✹ "you should've seen gaz's face, darl, it was priceless–"
✹ "i'm sorry, i… i dont remember you…"
✹ nothing has ever shut him up quite as effectively as those words.
✹ "wh… what? stop messin' about, bonnie," he chuckles, desperately searching your eyes for the humour that was missing. when you only shake your head in response, the smile fades from his face and quickly morphs into concern.
✹ "sergeant mactavish, how many times do i have to tell you to get off the bed!" the nurse exclaims as she enters the room. he doesn't get down though, just fixes her with the most intense look he's ever worn.
✹ "why don't they remember me?"
✹ the nurse explains that an injury like yours was bound to cause some lasting damage, but amnesia was more often than not temporary.
✹ "i'm sorry, i wish i could remember you…" you mutter, dropping your gaze to your lap as he turns back to you.
✹ johnny exhales deeply, finding a great sense of comfort that you'll most likely get your memory back. he gently tilts your chin up again so he can stare deep into your eyes.
✹ "don't apologise, that just means i get to woo you all over again, bonnie."
ghost
✹ simon would be destroyed.
✹ while you're knocked out its like he forgets how to be human. he eats, sleeps, and breathes on autopilot – like a robot with a function, no feeling, just keeping himself alive until you wake up.
✹ it worries the others, price especially, but the walls around his heart are expertly crafted, and without you by his side he sees no purpose in lowering them.
✹ when you do wake up, the first thing you see is him, sitting at your bedside with his hand enclosed around yours. his eyes are closed, but he's still very much awake, in fact he finds himself unable to rest anywhere but in the chair by your side.
✹ the way you try to pull your hand from his brings him back to the present and alerts him to your consciousness. his eyes snap open in less than a second, already glassy with the pure relief he feels now you're back.
✹ but you're looking at him differently. where there would once be soft affection, now he can only see confusion, and worst of all, panic.
✹ and there's fear in how your shoulders bunch up, but simon tries his best to ignore that thought.
✹ "hey, you're alright, darlin'," he coos, as gentle as he can manage, pushing the rising dread to the back of his mind.
✹ he presses the button to call the nurse, letting go of your trembling hand bringing it up to your shoulder. your worried gaze flicks to his arm and back to his face, which makes him pause in his tracks.
✹ "who… who are you?"
✹ simon's waited so long to hear your voice again, but hearing those four words from you shatters his heart into pieces.
✹ no.
✹ you didn't forget him. there was no way.
✹ "it's…" he swallows hard, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to fall. "it's me, love, it's simon."
✹ you're still looking at him with that same anxious expression, and he curses himself when he realises he's still wearing his balaclava. he practically rips it from his head, dropping it to the floor without a care for where it fell.
✹ your eyes study his bare face, tracing over every crease and scar, the mess of hair on top of his head, and finally landing on his desperate eyes.
✹ "i'm sorry, i…" you look guilty, the subtle shake of your head hurting simon like a knife to the chest. "...do i know you?"
✹ the silence that follows your words is unbearable.
✹ you really did forget him.
✹ all the time you'd spent together, the memories you shared, the love you had; it was all gone, just like that.
✹ suddenly he felt like the walls were closing in on him, he couldn't get enough air and his skin was crawling with the need to escape.
✹ at that moment, the nurse comes through the doors, startling simon into standing from the chair and stumbling backwards. he never takes his eyes off of your guilt-ridden face. you didn't know him, not anymore, and that meant he was all alone again, with no one to care for him and call home.
✹ the emptiness in his chest was enough to make him want to rip the hair from his scalp.
✹ the nurse says something, stealing your attention from him with words he's too overwhelmed to listen to. he takes the opportunity to back away, disappearing through the doors with a hand covering his mouth, fighting the urge to throw up.
✹ it was a miracle to two of you got together in the first place – simon didn't know if he could get you to love him again.
#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#captain price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#price x reader#gaz x reader#soap x reader#ghost x reader#141 x reader#mw2 x reader#cod x reader#captain price#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#roosterr writes
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Save a Horse, ride a Cowboy
Synopsis: You make the mistake of placing Leon's cowboy hat on your head and you have no idea what the "Cowboy rule" is...
Warnings: Smut, Adult themes, filth
Word Count: 2,692
A/N: Cowboy. Leon. Two of my most favorite things.
-----
Your eyes dart around the entire space around you as your ears are drowned out by cheers and screams for the person who was currently riding a bull. Your friends thought it would be fun to go see a rodeo and so far it had been fun.
You got to see tons of people getting hurled off bulls which was entertaining in itself but you also couldn't help but agree with your friends when they all started to gush over how "hot" some of the cowboys were. Everywhere you looked you saw bandannas, flannels, cowboy hats, and flared jeans. You felt a little bit underdressed wearing your usual jeans and t-shirt but it was still fun getting to see all the hot cowboys and Southern charm.
As your friends ranted about this one man they saw who was about to ride a bull, you found your eyes stuck on someone else. Your eyes were glued to this one cowboy who was busy trying to calm the bull down enough to get the rider on top.
You couldn't see fully from where you were sitting but you could see the man's pretty blonde locks sticking out from underneath his cowboy hot and his crystal blue eyes that narrowed in concentration as he coaxed the bull into temporary peace. You didn't want to admit that you were drooling over him but you knew your friends would tease you if they saw how much you were staring at this guy.
Soon the rider is situated on the bull and a gunshot rings through the air. The gate that leads to the field is kicked open and within a second the bull is running out and thrashing wildly with the rider on top. You can audibly hear all the "ooohs" and "ahhs" as the rider holds on. Your friends are all squealing and cheering themselves as the man almost gets thrown off.
Then with another flail, the rider is thrown off the bull and ends up painfully tumbling onto the ground. As soon as that happens there are people going onto the field to scrape up the rider from the floor as others go to subdue the bull.
You can't help but cheer and holler as well as a smile comes to your face. What a show.
---
After the rodeo was over you wanted to conclude the evening by venturing to a nearby bar. It seemed like a lot of the people from the rodeo came as well as you noticed that once again you were surrounded by Southern accents and cowboy hats.
Your little group made their way to the bar and started to hover around it as the bartender asked everyone what they were getting. As soon as the orders are taken you are about to pay but as soon as you are about to give some cash to the bartender you are interrupted by a thick southern drawl.
"Drinks are on me, darlin'."
Your head turns and you are met with the same face you were admiring earlier. The fluffy blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and oh…you could see him much better now and god did the man look heavenly in the candlelight that emitted from the bar.
You could now make out the stunning facial features of the man and you could feel your heart speed up tenfold when your eyes grazed over his chiseled jaw and high cheekbones. The way the cowboy hat sat on his head made something buzz inside you.
You are broken out of your thoughts when you hear your friends snicker from behind you. The man even seems to notice your sudden shock as a subtle smirk comes to his face.
"You don't need to do that." you smile nervously as the man's eyes rake over you. You think you might have gotten lost in those eyes. "But thank you anyway."
"No need to thank me, sweetheart. Something as pretty as you should have all the men 'round here buyin' your drinks." He winked at you making your cheeks heat up. Your friends snickered again but you ignore them with a small roll of your eyes.
"The name is Leon by the way, Leon Kennedy." he introduces while holding out his hand. You take it and introduce yourself in return and you're immediately caught off guard when Leon goes to press a kiss against your knuckle.
You were so relieved when you finally got your drinks. You thought you were about to combust just by being around Leon. Leon on the other hand was relishing in your flustered looks and shy behavior, in fact, he thought you were the cutest thing he'd ever laid eyes on.
Though soon your shy, flustered behavior was pushed back by liquid courage. It was sped up by how quickly you were drinking your beers but soon you didn't even notice how you were practically leaning into Leon, muttering things about the rodeo and how hard it seems to ride bulls.
"I mean…I thought the guy was gonna be dead…how he got flung off that thing.." you murmured to yourself with a silly grin as you looked up at Leon.
"Well ridin' is all in the hips sugar~" Leon hummed while leaning back on his elbows. Your stomach fluttered at the suggestive tone and you took another sip of your beer to try and quell your nerves. In an attempt to change the subject, your eyes dart to his hat and a smirk starts to pull at your lips.
"Y'know you look great in that hat…" you compliment as you eye it. Leon chuckles and gives you a smile that has you wondering why it makes your heartbeat pick up.
"Is that so?" he asks. You nod but there's a glint of playfulness in your eyes as you look at the cowboy hat.
"I think it'd look better on me though~" your hands reach out and pluck the hat right off of Leon's head and you place it on yours. You adjust it and tilt it just right on your head like it was on Leon's and then you look at him with a wide grin.
"Well, how does it look?" You ask. Leon seems frozen for a moment as his mind starts to comprehend what you just did. You notice the sudden hesitance for a moment and you almost think that you did something wrong but a smirk soon returns to Leon's face and there's an amused look as he flicks the brim of the hat up.
"It suits you well sugar, but do you know what happens when you put on another cowboy hat?" he asks.
Suddenly you're hit with confusion and it reads all over your face as Leon chuckles. Even the bartender seems to laugh a little and he quickly turns around and starts to clean out glasses when you look at him.
"No…?"
"Well, we have a rule called the Cowboy Rule. If you wear the cowboys hat, then you have to ride the cowboy." Leon explains calmly before taking a swig of his drink. You blink in surprise and you can feel the blush start to creep onto your face. You look down at your drink to hide it.
"Oh," is all you manage to croak out. Your throat suddenly feels incredibly dry. You feel a hand hook under your chin you meet Leon's piercing gaze. His eyes are filled with amusement and it sends shivers down your spine.
"If I do then can I keep the hat?" you cheekily ask. The corners of Leon's mouth tug up and it causes your insides to flip. Your heart begins to beat quicker.
"Wanna find out?" Leon says as he leans forward until his lips are barely inches away from yours. It takes everything in you to not close the space between you two. Instead, you nod your head frantically hoping that he understands your silent request for more.
---
Hungry hands rake across your body as your own hands run down Leons. The feeling of his skin against yours makes every single nerve in your body burn as you slowly unbutton his shirt and he reaches for yours as well. Your bodies collide together like magnets practically, there's such a strange pull that seems to be between you two as your mouths clash together.
Leon's teeth nip at your lower lip and you moan softly as he slides his tongue past your lips and deepens the kiss. In return you rake your hands through his blonde strands, tugging lightly when Leon's hand trails along your sides, going down to rest on your hips.
The cowboy hat still sits on your head as you lean back, breaking the kiss to sit back on your haunches. The sight in front of you was heavenly. Leon was laid back, his legs slightly parted, his shirt halfway unbuttoned and exposing his chest, then of course there was the glassy, lustful look in his blue eyes as his swollen lips were slightly parted.
The entire image made your cunt flutter with need.
You take off the hat for a moment and place it back on Leon's as you yank your shirt up and off your body and then your hands work to unbutton the rest of his buttons on his shirt. As soon you are done, Leon slips his shirt off and yanks you back on top of him by your hips.
In that action, your hips accidentally roll against his causing you both to have a moment of pleasure from the friction.
"Fuck darlin'…need to feel more of you.." Leon huskily utters as his hands tighten around your hips a little more.
With a hum of agreement your rest your hands on his chest and go to straddle his lap a bit better so that your heated core is pressed right up against his erection that is straining through his jeans. Teasingly, you roll your hips again and you both let out a long moan.
"Shit…stop teasin' me," Leon mumbles, his voice rasping and rough as it sends shivers down your spine. You giggle breathlessly, pressing your hips harder against the bulge in his jeans, grinding a little more.
"Why would I stop? I wanna see how many pretty noises I can get out of you cowboy." you coo.
Leon growls in response as he roughly pulls you back towards him, slamming a searing kiss to your mouth. This time he moves his free hand down and it slips down your jeans, finding your clothed clit and he rubs small circles against it. Your hips buck in response and you let out loud moans against Leon's lips.
"That's it baby…let me hear you." He grunts.
It's practically music to your ears as you rock your hips against his fingers as he continues to rub your clit and you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. Leon suddenly pulls his fingers away and you whine. You're left with nothing but the ache between your legs.
In desperation, your hands fly down to Leon's belt buckle and you start to undo his belt as quickly as you could.
"Easy there honey, I'm not goin' anywhere." Leon chuckles. He replaces your hands with his and soon he's tugging his pants down along with his black boxers to reveal his hardened cock. Its springs to life and slaps against his stomach.
You groan at the sight of it. It's big and thick and you almost want to take him in your mouth until his hands are already working on your own jeans.
He unbuttons your jeans and pushes them down your thighs. You kick them the rest of the way off and reposition yourself on top of Leon. Right as you are about to sink down onto Leon's length he interrupts you.
"I think you're forgettin' something.." Leon takes his cowboy hat off and puts it back on top of your head, tilting it just right.
"Beautiful." Leon breathes in a low tone.
"I think it looks better on you." You smile as Leon's hand grazes over your cheek and tucks a stray hair away from your face.
"That's nonsense, it looks stunnin' on you." He smirks and his thumb drags up and down your jawline, gently rubbing your cheek. The butterflies in your stomach flutter even more as he leans in closer to you, your noses brushing against one another.
You rub your slick folds back and forth on Leon's tip and slowly sink down onto his length, letting out moans at the stretch.
"L-Leon… it..so much" You pant between clenched teeth, gripping onto his broad shoulders.
"It's okay sweetheart, let me help.." he coos. The hands on your hips slowly start to help you roll into his, making sure to go slow and his grasp was decently gentle as he helps you build up a good pace.
"It's all in the hips sugar…." Leon whispers in your ear, sending tingles down your spine.
Soon on your own accord, you start to ride him faster. It catches Leon off guard as waves of hot, blinding pleasure course through his veins. He throws his head back with an audible moan as you bounce up and down on his cock.
"Good girl, keep rollin' your hips like that.." Leon praises, his voice rumbling low in his chest.
You nod and do as you are told, your body starting to twitch against Leon, your hands clenching onto his forearms tighter as he starts thrusting upwards, trying his best to push himself inside of you and meet your steady rhythm.
A whimper escapes your mouth as Leon sits up, connecting his lips to your neck. One of his hands trails up your back and plants itself on the nape of your neck as his lips suck and kiss your sensitive skin.
Your mind is spinning, your heart beats furiously. There are no words that can describe how amazing it all feels. Especially as the euphoria grows and the knot in your belly tightens. Leon, in his own desperation to chase his oncoming high, continues to buck his hips up into yours wildly from below.
His head has fallen back against the pillow as he feels your cunt tighten around him.
"Jesus…you feel so good darlin'." Leon groans in appreciation. You don't say anything, only moaning loudly and moving your hips with more vigor. The sounds from your mouth cause Leon to shudder as he watches you move against him. The sound of his name falling out of your mouth is driving him crazy and you look so damn pretty in his cowboy hat.
After a few more moments of bliss, you finally come undone releasing all of the fluids onto Leon's cock as your eyes roll back into your head and you slump down on top of Leon. Leon helps you along by moving his hand down to toy with your clit as you shudder from the waves of your orgasm.
"Look at you, you pretty little thing. So beautiful.." he grunts.
His hand comes up to the back of your neck as he holds you to his chest while burying his nose in the crook of your neck.
Your breathing is heavy and you wrap your arms tightly around his torso, feeling warm all over your body after your climax. Leon sighs as he starts to rub small circles into your back.
"Damn sweetheart, you may just be the death of me." he coos. A soft smile forms on your lips. Your head rests firmly on his chest, and you peer up at him.
"Does that mean I can keep the hat?" You ask with a sheepish smile.
Leon chuckles and rests a hand on your hat-covered head.
"Yeah, I 'spose so. It suits you."
#leon kennedy#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil smut#resident evil x reader#leon scott kennedy#leon x reader#leon smut#resident evil x you
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