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reveluving · 5 months

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heartburn ; the ghoul x reader

summary: kindness gets people killed in the wasteland, and yet, cooper can't help it when it's you.

warnings: s~mut obv (minors DNI!), pre-war performer/entertainer!reader (for your creativity!); now an immortal ‘smoothskin’, soft as hell but our lovely ghoul is still a loud mouth, age gap but not really (think of him in his 40s & you in your 20s/30s but both in 200-ish years old), typical fallout violence & explicit language, loads of banter & fluff!

a/n: it’s here! based on this because the brain rot was (and is) so real. decided to call this the ‘la rouge series’, just to make it easier for tagging and when any lil’ pieces/asks come in. hope you guys enjoy & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» curious about my writing? come & check out my main m.list!

» smut includes: possessive soft & slightly mean dom!cooper, ‘pretty girl’ & baby as pet names, dirty talk i.e. + about exhibitionism (it doesn’t happen tho!), body appreciation, nipple play, spanking, fingering, a bit of edging/teasing, unprotected s~ex (p in v), bits of aftercare but overall, coop likes it nasty.

'It was worth holding back a witty remark during moments like these if it meant seeing you light up each time.' ;

It should’ve been uncomfortable; the sheen of perspiration building up along your body, despite the cooler night, albeit marginally as opposed to the day. Had it not been for the ceiling fan, no matter how slow it gets once in a while, you were indebted to its existence.

Especially at this exact moment, throwing your head and watching the contraption spin above you as Cooper bucked up into you.

Lucy had dozed off, you checked an hour prior, finding her asleep in the old guestroom when you stopped by. Maximus, too, snoring away on the wingback chair next to her. Whether it was because you entered with light steps or the duo were bone-tired, you had successfully spread the thin sheets over their figures before turning the table lamp off—all of which Cooper watched behind the door, feeling an overwhelming emotion brewing in him.

You barely knew them, hell, he was there when you shot Lucy a chilling look, realizing she was the daddy’s girl, but beyond that, you also saw two souls who were… lost. A set of strangers who wanted nothing more than to do the good thing, even if you didn't agree with their beliefs. And yet, the old caring nature in you couldn’t help but offer at least some form of appreciation for their humanity.

You held yourself back when Lucy babbled, even if—when you wanted nothing more than to cuss her father out. You didn’t lash out when she asked about your time in the shelters way before her mother was around. You acknowledged Maximus’s good intentions, even if they were a little gullible.

Cooper noticed it all, and fuck, if your unmoveable kindness wasn’t disgustingly the sweetest and sexiest thing he had ever seen.

It all felt like a typical romance movie after that, when you crossed paths in the living room, with you on your way to the kitchen when he stopped you. Delicately (and uncharacteristically, you might add) holding your wrist and tugging you to his chest to stare into your dreamy eyes. How a smile naturally bloomed on your face as you reached for his jaw. He indulged in your cutesy behaviour, as he always does, angling his head to kiss your palm while your eyes remained locked. It was worth holding back a witty remark during moments like these if it meant seeing you light up each time.

Not that you couldn’t handle them, if anything, putting him in his place wasn’t unheard of—you knew how to shut him up with that aura of yours from time to time.

But make no mistake; he knew how to get you tongue-tied, too.

He dipped his head, and the kiss that came was nasty. Swallowing your little gasp when he took hold of your jaw.

“Here?” You whispered incredulously between giggles when he led you to the couch. All he gave you was a grunt, falling back into the seat and pulling you with him. Your legs snugged around his as he encouraged you to sit, not hover him. The soft tune that played in the kitchen reminded you of a scene out of a cheesy porno from your old days, and when he hummed along, you knew he had the same thoughts, too.

“It's our house,” He grinned, “Means our rules.”

“Uh-huh,” You humoured, amused as you shook your head, but the use of ‘our’ did send butterflies to your stomach, “Mind elaborating, handsome?”

He explained all-too-happily, “It means y'got every right throw y'guests t’the doghouse if they start yappin’ ‘bout indecency.”

You say that now, but you knew he would shoot one in between their eyes for ogling you clothed, let alone in your glory. He has done it before.

Countless times.

But you’d kick him to the doghouse if he ever got blood on your floors. And just to piss him off further, you’d allow Dogmeat to sleep on the bed with you.

“You'd like to do that, wouldn't you?” I snorted.

His eyes lit up, taking your words as a green light, “Y'offerin’?”

You smacked his chest. “I know your games, cowboy. Room’s not far, y’know?”

“Aww, c'mon,” Calloused fingertips traced up your legs before slipping under the skirt, alternating between kneading and smacking your ass repeatedly to hear your squeaks, “When's the last time y'and I messed ‘round in the livin’ room?”

“Just last week.” You huffed, partially from the way his hips rolled against yours.

With any lack of action and the undeniably warmer weather throughout the day, you thought it was time to enjoy the night breeze with a slit skirt. The hems were slightly burnt off from past confrontations, involving a near-fatal experience with a Molotov cocktail, but besides that, it was relatively intact.

And just like you, it was Cooper’s favourite piece, too.

“Mm,” He acknowledged with a grunt, “Far too long t’me.”

He leaned back, arms spread across the backrest while looking at you expectantly

“Y’gon’ take it off f’me or…?” He asked. You rolled your eyes—as if you could ever refuse him.

But you couldn’t just give it to him, right?

You sat back, poised and coy, toying with him when you gazed up at him through your lashes. In the mood to give him a little show as it seemed like your guests were going to stay out cold for a while.

You were definitely teasing him when you popped the buttons of your shirt, only to let it droop around your elbows, just enough to get a glimpse of your cleavage and pesky black bra.

Reaching over, you dragged your index finger from his Adam’s apple, down to the collar. His overcoat long gone for your convenience, uncovering his chest without problems.

He was always intrigued, and if he was being honest, in disbelief by your fascination—by your need to have him unclothed in some form of way, despite his condition. The wariness grew over time, and he had not only relished it in but encouraged you for it, too.

Bunching up and pushing your skirt to the side, his fingers rubbed your pussy through your panties. He sighed, feeling the patch of wetness that soaked through the fabric. He was excited as you were, eager to feel you against him as he shifted under you.

He raised his fingers to his lips, sucking on his middle finger sloppily and groaning at your taste before dipping them under your panties. He straightened, pulling you forward by the back of your head as he prodded a finger into you. The position had you arching, chest to chest as he forced you to moan in his ear.

At your mewls, he was more than content to give you another, sinking his ring finger in bit by bit to feel you clench desperately.

He revelled in the warmth, the tightening of your warm walls as if fearing he'd pull out. The more you felt him curl inside you, the more useless it was to muffle your cries. The embarrassing squelch didn’t help either, but how couldn’t you, with that romantic stunt he pulled moments ago?

He tapped on your hips, silently requesting you to hold yourself up for a moment while he shoved his pants down. His cock stood with pride, twitching at the cool air and the anticipation to feel what his digits were feeling.

Pushing your panties to the side, he lined up the head of his cock to your pussy. He was practically dreaming of feeling you sink onto him at once, already bucking his hips to fill you to the hilt. Instead, you took him in ever so slowly, bit by bit before raising your hips till there was nothing more than the tip of him in you. Taking him in little by little as he teased you with his fingers.

“Y'tryin’ t’kill me?” He gritted out.

“You can handle it.” You cooed back, already losing composure as you felt up his chest.

He groaned, eyeing you dangerously only to shudder when your thighs slammed against his. You felt full, hell, you were full, needing a moment as your fingernails dug into his skin.

“Fuuuck,” He groaned, tipping his head back though forcing himself not to close his eyes to watch your tits bounce as you moved faster, “Look at y'go. Yeah, ride m’cock, pretty girl. Juuust like that.”

His praises had you pulsing around him, but so did his desperation. Slowing down once again to feel him buck under you.

But there was also something else about tonight.

Familiarity was putting his feelings lightly, unable to tear his eyes off as images of the same smile, maybe just a tad more innocent about the world, flashed before his eyes. Remembering his lucky encounters with you when you were both stars. When the two of you had dreams. When your worries at the time were nothing more than bringing joy to the people who watched you perform like you had hung the moon.

He could never forget admiring you and your artistry, similar to how you marvelled at his productions in awe, even after when they were nothing more than a man on a horseback before it all went to hell.

And to have him before you once more, albeit a bigger menace than you thought was possible, he was still your Cooper Howard.

Your cheekiness was wiped off when his hand dropped to your ass with a sharp smack, the slap drowning out the radio for a split second.

“‘Y'had your fun.” He growled. His hands held onto you so desperately, similar to the way you grappled onto his shoulders for support.

Your button-up was sticking to your skin just below your breasts, and as much as Cooper loved the little striptease, he wanted more.

He pulled the article further down by your sleeves, where you shuddered at the feeling of Cooper’s lips latching onto your skin. The sensation rough as he nipped at your rib. He surged forward, salivating as he sucked and tugged on your nipple. He let out a heady groan, tasting a hint of salt while rigorously bouncing you up and down his cock.

You were what pin-ups couldn’t emulate, what poets or authors couldn’t convey with mere words.

Anyone, surface dwellers and vaulties alike wished they could have you.

He crept one hand in between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit. He didn’t relent when you trembled, when you tightened as you came hard. Not even when you spasm, overstimulated when he continued to thrust in and out of you.

He held you down longer than you would've liked, too obsessed with the way your walls fluttered around him. Begging for some form of friction as you clamped him like a vice. The mewls that followed were music to his ears, frustrated in the cutest way when he did nothing more than flash you an infuriating smile.

A tight one, you noticed. Unable to hide his own need for long as your juices dripped down to his thighs. He was… a little sick in the head—who would’ve thought—abstaining himself from chasing the high for just a moment, just to amp up the pleasure and feel his desperation sated as if he finally deserved the ‘treat’.

“Coop…” You mewled, nearly choking on your spit as his iron-clad grip forced you to feel each and every ridge of him up to the brim, “Coop–! Please! Please move, please—fuck.”

Oh, how cruel of him to deny you. Especially when you sang for him so sweetly.

You raised your head, lips parted as his eyes bored into your teary ones. Even when you became lost in your lustful haze, only able to churn out nothing but his name as hushed moans, he couldn’t miss the small dazed smile flickering across your face.

He couldn’t resist, reaching up to brush across the pads of your plush lips. And as hooked as you were over the proximity, you placed your hand over his, keeping it on your cheek.

Your eyes screamed for him to go faster, to put you out of your misery. He pitied you to some degree when he rolled his hips.

“That too much? No, y'can take it. M'pretty girl can take what I give.”

“Gonna fuckin’ come in’ya, y’hear me?”

“Oh, you’re tearin’ up, feels really good, doesn’t it, baby?”

He slammed you down as soon as he came, thighs sticky and flushed. His grinds slowed down, chest heaving till he had his last spurts of cum in you. He traced his hands along the bruising spots he had left on your hips, then up your sides, tickling you.

The corner of his lips twitched at your tired giggle, catching your breath with your face pressed against his shoulder.

“Y’liked that?” He matched your amusement, reaching over the dry towel conveniently draped on the arm of the couch and wiping off the sweat dripping down your back.

“Mmm.” You hummed into his skin, already comfortable against him.

“Y’really liked it,” He reiterated, finding your playful eye-roll worth it, casually dragging the cloth under your chin and the area between your breasts before tossing it to the side. He let one arm outstretched on the backrest, “Y’need some water or somethin’?” You thought for a moment; you’d need a sip or two after all that, but you could hold it off for a few minutes.

“In a bit,” You returned to snuggling in his arms, much to his satisfaction, “Can't you just carry me to bed?”

“I would, but…” He trailed off. You followed his line of sight when it fell to his lap, not only reminding you of the mess but also if he stood up, well, you might as well fall with him if his pants dropped to his ankles. You knew he could clean you up and buckle his pants before carrying you to your room with no problem, he just didn’t feel like it.

And, well, you understood him.

“Fine,” You sighed, feigning resignation even though a little smile was playing on your lips. You knew each other too well, “But if I hear rushed footsteps or that girl yapping about ‘my eyes’, I blame you.”

“Not the first time you’ve ever blamed me for anythin’—m’poor ol’ heart,” He pretended to weep, placing a hand on his chest, only to catch yours when you tried to smack him for it, “See? Unloved, by m’own girl.”

You shared a laugh, and when he pulled his rest on your waist once more, you knew none of you were going anywhere.

In minutes, you were finally able to take in your surroundings, recognizing the chorus playing in the background, a classic of Dean Martin’s, one that even Cooper couldn’t help but hum to. It was soft, no more than within your hearing range, even bobbing his head to the beat. You followed, too, and to your surprise, the two of you coincidentally sang a particular line together.

♫ Your love made it well worth waiting ♫

♫ For someone like you ♫

You turned your head to head to the side before he could look at you after spotting the knowing smile he was sporting. And as the song came to an end, eyes droopy as he instinctively rubbed your back, his hat tipped down.

You couldn’t help it, craning your neck and planting one final kiss, to which he eagerly returned before your bodies melded into each other once more. Relaxed and protected from the dangers outside your safe haven, even for just a moment. So long as both of you were still breathing, you’d take the bull by its rotting horns in stride.

♫ Everybody loves somebody sometime ♫

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: fun fact! ignoring the fact that the concept of the game is inspired by the 50s and burlesques would no longer be as famous then, one of the many entertainer options I imagine for the reader (depending on the fic) is burlesque (?) dancer, which very much inspired this piece! not necessarily as her job in the old days but someone who knows a thing or two about it! but again, as the reader, you have the right to imagine whoever you or your mc however you’d like! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

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baka-bakeneko · 8 months

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Take a Break - Wade Wilson

tags: video games, mini contests, sex repulsion, Sex Repulsed Wade Wilson, teasing, a litttle dry humping, serious discussion abt sex repulsion, domestic shit, cutesy PDA, consolation

wc: 2.2k

synopsis: Wade has to say something. [part three of marathon s-e-x; part one / part two]

a/n: I originally wrote this as like a third marathon piece but one of my favorite artists (fuzzyaya on twitter) reminded me that Wade Wilson doesn't have a super high sex drive, so I ran with that instead.

You reared on Wade's lap, moving the controller up to shield his view of the television. His arms around you squeezed at your sides, shifting you out of the way while his teeth sank in your shoulder.

"Move your ass so I can beat it," Wade growled against you, pulling you back down.

You wiggled on him, distracting him with a flick of your hips. He tightened his hold on you, leaning you into him.

"Winner gets the good pillow," you taunted, leaning into Wade's view.

Wade made a noise of amusement, leaning you sideways out of view before manuevering his controller cord around you.

"Who said I have more than one? Looks like you're sleeping on my chest, kitten."

You pressed your knees into Wade's thighs, pulling yourself upright in his lap again. "You make it sound like a bad thing."

Leaning back, you pecked Wade's temple then sat up on your knees to block his view as the two hyper-colored cars entered the last lap.

"Loser buys coffee in the morning," you offered, using your nitro button at the last curve.

"I'd shake on it, but I'm about to win this--shit!" Wade boasted, ready to breeze past you with his final nitro boost, but you crossed over the finish line and the race was called.

Your character rounded the lap in cartoon cheers and confetti, the winner's title displayed on your half of the screen. Wade's character drove, head in hands defeat, displaying a full 2nd place placard.

"Nice try, baby," you comforted, sitting down on Wade's lap and dropping your controller to the living room accent table. "Make mine's an extra large iced coffee, okay?"

Wade hid a roll of his eyes, dropping his controller next to him and scooping your legs and back into his arms. "You think I reward cheaters? Nice try, yourself."

He shifted onto his knees on the couch, then stood up. You curled your arms around his neck, pointing your toes with Wade carrying you to bed.

"Cheater? You dare to mock my champion title?" You asked, dropping down onto the mattress, your hand folded to your chest in feigned offense.

Wade growled, crawling over you and meeting your lips. You held his face, your fingers tracing over the intricate burns along his ears. Your legs spread, you invited him to steady his weight over yours.

He sighed into your mouth, his face and body relaxing as his arms curled around your waist. He rolled his hips, nestling his bulge behind his briefs at the crest of your mound behind your panties.

You pulled back with a whimper, resting your forehead against his with a huff. Wade shared your breath, his chest meeting yours with a deep stretch of his back.

"I dare," Wade punctuated with a quick peck. "But I'll buy you a coffee as a consolation prize."

You scrunched your nose, puckering your lips for another kiss.

"Make sure it says 'Number One' on it," you teased, rolling your hips to rub against Wade's bulge.

He smirked, baring his top teeth with a playful sneer. "I would, but I'm a sore loser."

You feigned a pout, running your fingers down to Wade's neck. Pulling yourself up, you kissed his cheek then jaw. Wade hummed, tilted his jaw in the direction of your affection.

"Can I...say something?" Wade asked, planting his hands to your hips and putting distance between your bodies.

"Of course, baby," You said, lying back on the bed. Your fingers circled at the nape of his neck, your other hand dragging down his shoulder before finally squeezing his bicep.

Admiring him.

Wade's browline raised, his eyes softening while he stared down at you. He blushed, swallowing hard as his gaze raked down your body clothed in his sweatshirt. His chest rose and fell hard, acknowledging the hi-cut panties you were adorned in.

"I..." Wade began, bringing his eyes back up to meet yours. "don't want to have sex tonight."

Your fingers never stopped curling at the nape of Wade's neck, your other hand running down his side. "Okay, baby. That's okay."

The skin between Wade's brows scrunched, smiling in slight disbelief. He quirked, taking in your demeanor. "You sure?"

The knit of your brows couldn't be helped; tilting your head slightly at Wade, you cupped his jaw and brought him closer to you until your lips grazed his chin.

"I understand if you don't want to, Wade," you reassured, lifting to kiss his cheek, then the corner of his lips. "I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Wade immediately collapsed against your body, nuzzling and squeezing you close as he tucked his chin over your shoulder. You smiled, wrapping your arms around his slim shoulders and holding him tight against your chest.

"But I'm taking the pillow tonight." You teased.

Wade glanced up at you, squishing his cheek harder against your shoulder. "I'll be your little spoon."

You smiled, kissing Wade's forehead as your fingers traced down his tattered back. His skin a decorated mosaic of scars and welps, his body telling a story all on its own.

You shut your eyes for a long moment, relishing the feeling of Wade's steady weight over yours. "Can I ask you something back?"

Wade stifled a yawn, tucking his chin and shutting his eyes. "Shoot, hot stuff."

You disguised a gulp, your palm petting over your boyfriend's shoulder blade. "Has...anyone made you feel bad for saying 'no'?"

At that, you felt Wade stiffen over you. His body, once malleable and warm was now jagged and cutting. His chin moved over your chest, monitoring your shallow breaths since asking.

Still, he answered: "Uh, yeah. A few."

Your breath stopped, wondering how twisty the question must've felt in Wade's gut. You angled yourself up on your elbow, staring down at Wade positioned on your chest.

In that instant, you wanted to throw your body over his like he did you to shield whatever horrific thoughts you simmered out of him.

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

Wade scoffed, effectively shutting down your apology and relaxing against you. "Like that kart racing bullshit? I'm still not over that by the way."

You tried to meet Wade's eyes, your hand finding the back of his head to get him to look at you. "Wade--"

He shut his eyes to hide from your prodding glare, sure that you would see through him. "Don't think I forgot the blue shell. You almost had me forgetting."

Then he was up and off of you, making his way off the foot of the bed and towards the bathroom. You sat up, your body chasing after his.

"Wade, please." You reached for his hand to pull him back into you, console the feelings he harbored.

He threw his hands up in feigned defeat, walking into the restroom. "Just remembered I can't share my bed with a cheater, sorry."

You sat on the edge, dangling a foot to the floor while you waited to hear Wade's movements. You stared at the comforter dangling over the edge of the bed, patiently biding your time until he returned.

Minutes passed without a sound which prompted you to stand. You tiptoed in the direction of the bathroom then leaned against the doorway when you found Wade sitting on the toilet seat., head in hands.

"Baby," you began, launching yourself away from the doorway. "I'm sorry."

You stopped before Wade, who was unmoving. No sniffles echoed from behind his hands, just silence. You swallowed and sat on the decorative toilet rug before his legs, reaching a tentative hand out to pet his knee.

He flinched slightly, but never receded from you. You pet carefully, stringently, at his kneecap then this calf. More time passed in silence between you two until he inhaled deeply and sat up.

"Do you like a man that's repulsed by sex sometimes?" Wade asked geniuinely, his eyes finally meeting yours.

They bore into you, searching inches of your mind to find an answer suitable for his question. The corners of your mouth lifted, tempted to beam a soft smile at him but refrained.

You tenderly rested your chin against his thigh, keeping his inquistive gaze met.

"I like you, Wade," you answered honestly. "And if that's how you feel sometimes, then that's how you feel. I respect it."

Wade scoffed, flashing a hint of his signature smirk before his face fell and he looked away. You saw his eyes glisten something fresh, the tempt of tears.

"You know, when I said I'd like to keep you for a whole year, I was probably exaggerating." He looked down to his clasped hands in his lap.

Wade tempted his tongue out to wet his dry lips, the very lips that kissed you so tenderly. "I want to keep you, but when it comes to sex...I-I-"

"You don't have to keep it up everyday," you said, raising your hand to rest between his open palms. "I'm not asking you to. I'd never ask you to. And I"m not going anywhere unless you ask me to leave."

Wade's bottom tried to quiver, but he sucked it in and looked at you. "I'm not kicking you out for shit. You'll be begging to leave me at the end of this."

Your heart singed at the utterance. Your hand squeezed at his, resting your cheek on his thigh. "What end?"

Wade opened his mouth to speak but clammed up the further he stared. He exhaled a shaky breath, dropping his eyes to your hand in both of his.

"I don't want you to think I'm sick of you. Or disgusted." Wade started, glancing at you. "I just..."

"Don't feel like it sometimes," you finished, nodding along to his sentiment. "I understand, babe. I do. And it's nothing to do with you."

"Don't think you wiggling on me, cheating at that game wasn't doing it for me. It does wonders for the spank bank." He reached up to tap his temple. "But that'll only be when I'm away from you."

Silence crept in again before Wade's breath shoved it away. He stood, pulling you to your feet and tenderly melded his lips to yours.

"I'm sorry, for bringing that--"

"Shush shush," Wade enunciated, folding his index finger to your lips before playfully squishing them down. "I'll race you to bed. Winner gets the pillow."

You flashed your teeth from behind his finger. "Game on."

Darting out of Wade's grasp, you breezed out of the bathroom and hopped onto the bed. Wade was close behind you, his hands ghosting out at your waist to pull you back before his body careened onto the bed directly after yours.

The two of you ended up a tangle of limbs, clawing to the head of the bed, ready to tag Wade's singular pillow in triumph.

"Wade, don't play with me right now."

"I'm playing nice, baby!"

The closer you got to the pillow, Wade would grab your hips and drag you back, causing your hoodie to ride up to your chest. Wade lunged out for the pillow, only stopped by your hands gripping agressively at his ass and yanking him back.

The two of you play-fought in a continuous wave until you called a truce to catch your breath. In the middle of the bed, you and Wade both stared at the ceiling, panting like a pair of dogs.

You glanced over at Wade, over the vast grey sea of bedsheets and started laughing. He grinned at the lilting noises that escaped you and joined in.

He reached for you first, pulling you towards him to bask in your laughter. His hand curved at your hairline then down to your jaw, admiring all big and small about you at once.

He swallowed hard, his laughter dying out the more he was drawn in by your glow, the blush from playing brightening your cheeks. Too soon.

You still tittered, meeting Wade's milky gaze and mapping the beautiful imperfect of his face while your hand drifted up and grabbed onto the pillow.

With a smile, you brought the thin pillow down on Wade's head, cackling all over again as he broke. His nose scrunched with a scoff.

"You cheated, again!" Wade jeered, pulling you in for a deep kiss that shot to your toes.

Your body froze, humming and tittering behind the work of his lips before his tongue slipped into your mouth. The moan that escaped you was unmannered, your hands bracing his waist to keep him a chaste distance from you.

When he pulled away, you tossed the pillow back up and grinned. "I didn't cheat the first time."

"That's debatable, okay? I bet if there was an instant replay, it would've shown I was in the lead."

You stuck your tongue out playfully, pinching at his side. "You wish."

The two of you remained in the center of the bed, going back and forth on your consecutive wins until Wade stifled a yawn.

You sat up, reaching for the comforter to bubble over the two of you. "When you wake up, don't forget my coffee, okay?"

Wade exhaled in acknowledgement, his eyes shutting to feign sleep. "Huh?"

#deadpool x you #deadpool x reader #comic deadpool #deadpool #wade wilson x you #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson #marvel smut

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icarusredwings · 29 days

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Thinking about Logan adjusting to this new timeline, becoming sober, and Wade somehow finding Logan's dog tags. ~4k words.

(Tw: Logan's a depressed recovering alcoholic with survivor guilt, unofficial proposal, canon usual implied sex jokes, Logan tries to flirt but fails)

To my wife. Who's halo lit up my dark life to see just how many doors were available to me when I couldn't see them myself<3

He offers him his to wear as a cutesie matching necklace type of thing but Logan is hesitant to take them, scared of what will come of it. He does it anyway though because he sees how happy Wade is wearing his.

What he refuses to tell him though is that just hearing the tags jingle makes him jump, flinch, his heart rate rises, and his mind floods with scenes he's worked so hard draining every bar he could find dry just so he could forget.

For me, I, too, am a man with deeply rooted animal instincts and was raised to behave like an obedient pet instead of the animal they made me.

An animal trained to take orders. A soldier without his post is miserable and constantly is either trying to find it again or defend himself from ever having to go back to a post to begin with.

You aren't good enough for them if you obey what they say and excel past the standards. But you aren't good enough if you question their authority and make choices for yourself either. Hoizer comes to mind.

Running with the bulls

Working my miracles

Holding my world together with a boot string

His night terrors are worse, more frequent, constantly a battle between wanting to protect and defend the less fortunate to saying, 'No, I'm done with that. It's none of my business, It’s someone else's problem now.'

He wakes up screaming, claws drawn, every possible sense he has to run activated, panting, gasping almost for air. He's panting, heaving deep but quick breaths, all of the hairs on his arms raised like a cat who just heard a dog barking after having gotten attacked as a kitten.

Living the dream

Benzos and gasoline

Coffee and blue light screens till the morning

He wakes to the sunlight in his face, gets up, stretches, takes his Valium. Eats some toast, calls it breakfast, gets dressed for his weekly AA meeting. The moment he steps inside it smells like Gasoline. Sweet honey scented lies that he hates to admit that he knew all too well. ‘It was only one’ ‘I asked for a virgin one but they brought me the wrong one’ ‘I'm trying, I really am..it's just.. hard’ He's heard them all before but the last one he could relate to the most.

Coming home at night, Logan puts his face into the back of his partner's neck, hugging him from behind as he offers to watch a cowboy movie marathon with him. He barely eats, only taking what Wade gives him or shoves in his mouth like the now spilled popcorn that was all over the ground, His boyfriend sprawled out on the couch while the “Dvd” bounces back and forth on the blue screen.

Wade never likes it but recently he's been drinking coffee at night, pacing back and forth as he searched online for a job. Kept himself far from the nightmares that were trying to catch up with him.

If I tell you this is drowning

You tell me I'm walking on water

I could bring fire from the mountain

You tell me it feels a little colder

Everyone was telling him how good he was doing, how well he was adjusting, how happy they were that he was here and yet.. He didn't feel like he deserved it. Any of it. Not the second chance, not the love and support of all his new family, not the affection from the man who whispered how proud of him he was each night..

It doesn't help his mental status when multiple jobs reject him either. Interviews don't exactly go that well when you have claws for hands and a reputation for having a temper.

“I'm sorry we're looking for someone with more… experience.. in this field. You need an entry level job.”

“Woah dude! You are WAY too qualified to be working here! you should try looking for something higher up, yeah?”

“I'm sorry. You're too much of a liability.”

“Oh my god- You're the Wolverine!”

“Yes.. but uhm.. No.. I'm just Logan now.”

“Wait, why are you applying here? This is a cashier position.”

“I'm aware..”

“Aren't you like… an X-men?”

“N-no… not anymore.”

“Oh… Did they fire you?”

“I quit.”

“Why?”

“Are.. these questions part of the interview?”

What kind of man was he if he couldn't even get a damn job at McDonald's? It felt useless. Like everybody wanted something different from him, but no one was happy either way. Never pleased with his resume or his reputation. You would think being an ex X-man would make it easy. Of course someone would want to hire a superhero? Right? Wrong.

I don't wanna

Choose between being a salesman or a soldier

Just let me look a little older

It seemed everyone wanted him to rejoin the X-men and as much as he missed that mansion upstate, it wasn't his. So many times he's been told stories about himself that he didn't even remember …well.. because it wasn't him. They wanted The Wolverine.

Their Wolverine.

Not Logan.

There was always that spot at the dealership with Peter. Now that Wade was back on his role with mercenary stuff and doing more “Favors” with Colossus, Negasonic and Yukio, that position was open. Part of him- No. Scratch that. All of him was happy for Wade. He seemed to be enjoying life so much more now that he felt he had purpose. But what was his purpose? Selling cars?? Definitely not. Even if it was, they were looking for something else anyway.

“It says here that you are 286 years old. Is that a typo?”

“Oh- uhm… No..”

“I see…Well we are currently looking for someone… younger.. to fill that spot. Sorry.”

But they were never actually sorry. He could smell it.

Coming home from the failed hunt, he felt like an older lion losing its pride to a younger male lion. Well- if lions could develop arthritis in their knees and hands. Once a day he'd pop out his claws, just to keep them ready though he felt like he hadn't used them in such a long time… Maybe he really was turning into an old house cat like wade said.

Sitting in their shared bedroom, he was grumbling to himself, grunting as he tried to get his claw unstuck. This wasn't the first time they locked up and he feared it wasn't the last either.

He snapped his head up at the sound of tags. Around the corner came who he expected, Wade, quickly hiding his hand under the blanket. Coming in, his eyes widened.

“Woah wolvie! Without me? Really? I would have gladly done it for you.”

At first Logan wanted to thank him for offering to help before quickly realizing that from how his hand was under the blanket, it did look suspiciously like adult alone time.

“T-that's not… no.”

“M'kaay. If you say sooo~”

“H-how uhm.. How was work?”

Watching as he began to grab shower clothes and take off his mask, He smiled.

“Oh you know! Watching the life drain from peoples eyes and what not as they beg for their life! The usual.”

“Oh.. that's.. fun?”

“Extremely liberating stuff.”

Watching as he began to strip, He swallowed, wishing he'd leave already so he could finish shoving the claw back into his skin.

Let me step a little bolder

I don't wanna

Choose between being a butcher or a pauper

“You wanna take a shower with me?” He asked, Beginning to walk around butt naked in nothing but his tags.

“U-uhm… No. No thanks, I had one this morning.”

“D'awwww what? Worried i'll see your peanuts? News flash baby, I've had those things down my throat! And I will say. They're better salty anyways~”

All this teasing changed his monotone face into a small goofy smile as he came close, crawling up into his lap, taking hold of his cheeks as he kissed his nose.

“What's wrong? Did you not get the job?”

He was so envious of how he could say such dirty things. Wade was so confident and yet so shy about his face. It made him think of when he was that confident in himself too. (Probably overly confident if we're being honest) Oh that was so many years ago… he'd never get that back. And honestly? He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

Logan said nothing but it was all the answer wade needed.

“I see. Well you'll get’em next time, Right?”

He looked away. Ashamed. Here Wade was, being overly supportive, giving him everything, and still he couldn't find a single happy bone in his body.

Shifting his leg to reassure him more, His knee was placed on the claw, yipping. “Ouch!”

“Sorry! I… I can't.. i-it won't..”

And on top of all that, he just hurt him. Man he sucked at this. All of it. Every little bit of it.

Pulling his hand away, Logan's eyes looked over Wade just as quick as it happened, Trying to see if he was bleeding only to jolt.

“Hey- shh.. Calm down. You're alright.” Grabbing his wrist, he carefully moved the tags that had gotten stuck on the claw.

“What's got you all riled up, Kitty? The interview couldn't have been that bad.”

But what he didn't know is that it WAS that bad.

Instantly Logan broke down, breaking heavily as he began to sob, gritting his teeth as he put his non-stuck hand on his face, wanting to hide. He felt pathetic. Useless. Weak. All of the things he fought not to be.

“Ooh, Honey come her-” Wade reached a hand out, trying to console him only to be shoved away.

“Don't!! I-.. I'm tired of hurting people! That's not who I want to be!”

“Baby cakes, it was an accident-”

“No!! Eveyone wants the Wolverine until the fucking wolverine is actually acting like the Wolverine!” He shouted, trying not to choke on his own tears.

Tilting his head, Wade blinked as if he wasn't aware of what he was talking about, but why would he? Logan hasn't told him anything negative for the past 2 weeks. Keeping it all bottled up, trying to push it deep down but that wasn't him. He couldn't handle it anymore.

“Everyone just keeps saying I should join the X-men again and i-” Wilson put his hands on his shoulders, looking at him with the most serious he has ever been in his entire life.

“Logan, If that's what you want we'll make it work. It's only an hour drive, and i'm sure I could visi-”

“Wade!! Shut. Up! I don't…” He trailed off, shaking his head as he began to apologize, whispering he was sorry for yelling at him.

“I-it's not your fault.. I.. I don't..”

Wade was patient, Nodding, encouraging him to open up with his words. He knew when it was time to zip it and let him talk. Now was one of those times. It was his turn to listen.

“I don't want to fight anymore. I didn't want to fight to begin with but… It's the only thing I'm good at. I'm not good at anything else.. My whole life I've just been jumping team after team and they all eventually die or I just get kicked out for not understanding the power of team work or whatever. Hell, I've been through three different wars and every single time I ran away! Like a damn dog with its tail between its legs! All except the times I was TOLD to run and I didn't. Fuck, Wade! 3 fucking wars and I can't even take orders right!!”

Honey, I'm taking no orders

Gonna be nobody’s soldier

It was now Wade's turn to try to stifle a laugh, snorting as he covered his mouth.

“What's so fucking funny?! That your boyfriend is a sad pathetic loser who can't even get his hands to listen to him!?”

Now he burst out laughing, starting to giggle.

“You're over here talking about not being able to take orders and not being good enough for a team while talking to the same guy who can't even GET on a team and was kicked out of Canadian special forces because I didn't listen to a single thing they said! And you think I care if you ‘can't take orders’ ??” He said this last part in a mocking tone, trying hard to be serious but couldn't.

Logan's eyebrows scrunched with a skeptical glare, tears still dripping down his face, feeling embarrassed and stupid.

Cupping his face again, Wade smiled ear to ear, their foreheads together. “You're much dumber than the comics make you out to be if you think I'd care about anything like that. You honestly think I'd care if you don't want to be anyone's soldier? Why do you think I'm my own boss? The world isn't built for guys like us, baby. And if you wanna open a coffee shop or- pursue your dreams of photography, or hell! Even bird watching for all I care, I will still love you. We will make it work. No matter what you choose to do. Even if you don't get a job at all. Do you understand?”

The man started into his eyes, seemingly frozen as he processed all that he said.

“Logan..”

“Hm?”

“You gotta nod hon, we've talked about this.”

Slowly nodding, indicating that he understood, the tears got thicker as he pulled himself into Wade's shoulder, sobbing more.

“Oooh There there… There's my big strong man..” Wrapping his arms around him, he was careful of the single knife still out. Sitting him up, he rubbed the side of his face as he kissed the other cheek, only to gasp.

“GAASSSPP!! Peanut!”

“What!?” His grip tightened around his waist as he looked around urgently, immediately sniffling and starting to wipe his eyes.

“You're getting greys!” He coed, reaching up to pluck a single gray hair from the beast, who flinched. “Ouch..”

Leaning back, Wade held the hair in front of his face, His smile still wider than ever.

“You're turning into A silver fox, wolvie!”

“W-what?”

“Ooh I bet you're gonna be so handsome! Eehh!” Hugging him again, tight around his neck.

Blushing, He wasn't sure what had just happened. How him venting and crying out of the rage he felt to Wade fangirling over one of his single hairs.. though.. I guess it made sense for your bald boyfriend to monitor yours. Wade has even made him start using a fancy shampoo that made his hair a lot softer, curlier, and Less greasy.

“.. you..You're excited that i'm getting old..??”

“Duh! I've always wanted to be a hot silver daddy's sugar baby!”

“What does that even mean?”

“Don't worry about it- Oh hey look! Your claw went back in.”

Looking at his hand, he made a fist and opened it a couple of times, blinking, oblivious. “...How did you do that?”

But what he didn't realize is that the stress was flowing out of him, and the relief that Wade seemed to be obsessed with him no matter what had calmed him down enough for it to slide back in itself.

“I didn't do anything, sweetheart. You opened up. Let it out. All that stress isn't good for you, you know. How do you think I ended up looking like this?” He joked, giggling.

For some reason, He laughed too, finding this a bit funny.

“Do you feel better? Hm?”

“Nngh..”

“I'll take that as a yes.” The naked man whispers, kissing him with his arms lazily on his shoulders, glad that he was able to cry in front of him. Twas a very manly thing to do and there was no one more manly than the Wolverine himself.

“Alright. I'm gonna go shower. I stink worse than you do after being out in the rain.” You know, wet dog and all. Pulling away, there was a clang and a tug at both of their necks, the tags becoming stuck together, making wade smirk more. “I think these tags don't want me to go.”

Quickly frowning, Logan swallowed, moving to take his off, pulling up his hand as he held it, putting the tag inside of it, closing his fingers.

“Wha..I-... what are you doing?”

“Wade.. I..” He sighs, looking away with a nervous pout, Grunting a bit from frustration. Why did words have to be so difficult?

“Are you breaking up with me?!”

“What!? No! I-.. I don't..”

See what Logan didn't know was that Wade had viewed these as promise rings, the equivalent of engagement even but he was okay with never actually getting married. As long as he got to wear the dress in his closet and dance with him he wouldn't mind if it was legal or not. He understood fully that not everyone wanted to marry the stage 4 cancer patient whose skin looked like turkey bacon that was somehow raw and burnt at the same time.

“You don't what? Do you.. want something else? We can get rings! Do you want rings?” shifting to sit closer to him, Wade was obviously becoming upset about this, untangling the tags and looking at him with those big brown puppy eyes.

“Rings…?”

He could see the gears in his head trying their best to turn as he thought what he meant.

“How would we make them into rings?” He finally asks and to Wade, this was basically a proposal.

Sitting up more he began clapping excitedly the same way he did when seeing puppins again about 8 months ago. “Eeh!! Yes!!”

His head turns, Giggling. “I would've taken it in front of the subway like Sanda Bullock but this works too!”

Logan, like a dumb ass, looked too, knowing full well he wouldn't see anyone but still always looked anyway. “Who??”

“Oh I'll show you later! What size are you?”

“In rings?”

“No, your cock, Of course in rings!”

“Hey now- I never agreed to a cock ring, Wade. No.”

The serious tone and the way he pointed his finger at him made him laugh more, taking his hand as he kissed it. “We'll figure it out. Okay so after my shower, I'll call a guy I know. I think Forge would do a much better job but I feel like he'd say no.” He began rambling about how cute they would be and how excited he was, climbing off of his lap (finally) and started to walk off.

“W-wade!” He called, swallowing again, nervous to ask him to listen.

“What? You wanna come shower?”

“No- well.. maybe but..”

Again he waited, rocking back and forth on his heels, trying his best to be patient but it was hard not talking for 0.5 seconds.

“It's not that.. I don't like them. It's just.. I got those a long long time ago.. and I don't want to be the man those belonged to. Not anymore. And it's not that I don't think about rejoining all the time, it's just.. I want to live my life the way I want too. Charles always said that at the end, we'd get to live how we deserve. That's my time. My time is now. I want to sit on a porch somewhere out west and watch the horses graze. I wanna sit around doing nothing with Puppins in my arms. I want… I want to be with.. with you.”

He admitted, and for once Wade was the one speechless.

“I don't want you to visit. I want to live with you. But not here. I want to go somewhere quieter. Somewhere I can just be.. Logan..”

Putting a hand on his chest as he explained, he didn't see his smile move, not a smidge, watching as he bit his lip and covered his mouth trying to stay quiet until he was done.

“Of course I still want to help people though! Protect them from other worse people… I'm just tired of being someone's toy soldier all the time. I want to do what I think is right but.. also have time to listen to you sing when cooking and take Puppins to the dog park. I want to protect..Us.” Yeah. That felt right. Us. Both of them, all of them. Together. His family.

“B-besides.. If I became an X-men again I don't think I could do it. I could barely sleep back then thinking about all the screams.. the people I couldn't help. I don't think I would be able to get over the fact that I can't save everyone… But I definitely want to try to at least save a few people. Take care of them… all of them. Even if they don't think they need help.” He smiled a bit, taking a huge breath as the stress was relieved from his shoulders.

“Alright you can talk now because I'm never doing that ever again, that was super embarrassing.” He muttered, flushed as he looked down at his lap.

The second he gave him permission to speak, Wade screamed, a scream that made Logan's eyes widen and look at him with a slow blink. “....what was tha-”

Immediately he was pulled up from the bed, picked up and squeezed tightly as he jumped around. Grunting some, he held on tight, feeling a little nauseous. Sometimes it was easy to forget how strong he was.

Still screaming, Wade was extremely excited about all that was just said, Logan admitting that he wanted a serious future with him was a lot better news than he could have ever wished for.

“Put me down!... Wade!... I'm gonna throw up!” He said, whining that he was given uppies non consensually. Even he couldn't help but laugh though in response to his giggles. God that laugh was so annoying and yet his world would feel pointless without it.

Putting him down, Wilson grabs his cheeks, petting his beard. “Ooh Logan.. I don't need protection.. because I can't get pregnant. But if I ever find out that I can, I'll definitely hire you.” He jokes, causing more blushes as his hand comes up to Wades, nuzzling into it for a moment.

“You know what I mean…”

“I do. And while I won't stop you, how about you be your own soldier for a bit? Tell yourself how to live. Not anyone else. And i'll be behind you, wearing a shirt with your ugly mug on it, supporting you the whole way. Got it?”

“Aye! I'm not ugly!”

“No you are not! I've barely been home for 20 minutes and am already so wet. I haven't even taken a shower yet “ he mumbles casually as he begins walking away.

“Heh.. Hey…erm Wade?”

“Yes, love?” Just about to leave the room, he turns, smiling gently at how talkative his fiancé was.

Logan blushes more. “I uhm.. If I'm nobody's soldier… can your name be nobody?”

Wade looks confused at first, now it's his turn to figure out what he was saying.

“Cause.. if your name is nobody then i'd be.. nevermind.” Waving A hand, he glanced at his shoes, stuffing his hands in his pocket having just fumbled that line completely.

Within seconds, Wade was back in that room, giving him the sloppiest, deepest kiss that was available, kissing him all over.

“Oh Logie! You're so sweet! But leave the flirting to me, mkay? I don't need you throwing your back out trying too hard.” He pats his chest, grabbing his hand as Wade drug him by the wrist.

They both laugh as they enter the bathroom, closing the door with a click.

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southernbluebellereader · 9 months

Text

Peach Pie and Cream

Jack Reacher x F! Southern Waitress Reader (Amazon TV show, Alan Ritchson)

Warning: Some fighting, suggestive descriptions, cutesy

Summary: Our giant man Reacher meets a charming young waitress :) and takes care of people ;)

Word Count: ~2,115 words

A/N: There will be a part 2 eventually lol

Master List - Tag List Sign-Up (tags at the bottom)

“What can I get you, sugar?”

God, the way she called him “Sugar” practically dripped from her lip-gloss covered lips like hot honey. Her breasts threatening to spill out of her lacy unpadded bra - it’s dark color barely showing through her low-cut white top.

He knew not to look, he shouldn’t, he couldn’t.

But one peek wouldn’t hurt.

It wasn’t even seven-thirty in the morning when she’d walked over to him with a pen and a little notepad.

Reacher sat up, his body erect as she spoke so sweetly to him. His eyes quickly glanced at her bosom, then made eye contact with her, showing a crooked smile, “Good morning, what are your specials?”

Y/N gave him a small smile as she caught the flicker in his eyes as he lifted them to meet yours. “Our breakfast specials include the garlic biscuit sliders with chicken, sausage, or ham…” She leaned over slightly and pointed on the menu on the table at the various specials.

Y/N’s perfume smelled so sweet. Hints of peaches and vanilla.

No. He can’t be distracted. He had to meet Neagly later.

He smiled as he looked back up at her, he didn’t hear half of what Y/N just said about the menu, just glancing at the worn out name tag that said her name. Her cheeks blushed slightly as he looked at her, the two of them were rather close.

Smiling at her, he asked, “I’ll have the garlic biscuit with the sausage special. Can I get extra bacon and a slice of your peach pie?”

“Yes, sir, you can. You want ice tea or coffee to drink?”

“Coffee is fine. Just black.”

She quickly glanced down at his large and firm chest and then back up at his eyes. He smirked even more.

Y/N bit her lower lip and then stood upright, writing his order down, “Sure thing, honey. I’ll be right back in a few.”

And those few minutes took an eternity. Reacher’s thighs began to itch as he watched her walk back to the back counter, leaning over so she could give the chef his order through the heating lamps, blushing in playful annoyance, with the cook winking and pursed lips, making kissing noises at her until she rolled her eyes and sighed, shaking her head.

He barely knew her but the sight of the cook irritated him. That’s no way to treat you - even if it was banter between coworkers. He’d been in town for merely a few hours.

He tried to look away. He really did. But the way her hips swayed and her chest moved, her apron tight and snug around her waist, her soft body spilling out from the sides of the apron and the top of her jeans. Every time she stood by a table to take an order, she always shifted her weight to her left, her left hip pushing out of the top of her jeans.

He always liked a full woman.

Chuckling to himself, he turned slightly to keep himself from boring holes on her ass. He glanced out the window but was thankfully disturbed by the smell of her and the food he ordered.

“Here we got today’s special with extra bacon and a cup o’joe, hot and ready just for you, honey. I’m all out of peach pie but I got one coming out of the oven any secon’ now. You want some ice cream with that pie?” She laid his food down gently, he gave you a grin and thanked you, “Careful, plate’s hot, honey.”

“Ice cream would hurt my teeth but I’ll take it since you suggested it.” Reacher caught her blush.

“I’ll make a note of it. Enjoy your food and let me know if ya need anything, ok?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckled and picked up his utensils.

She winked at him and walked away, picking up a pot of coffee to replenish cups of other patrons and swatting away advances from men in their sixties on her way back to the back counter.

After a while, Y/N walked back with a plate of peach pie covered in a large scoop of vanilla ice cream and placed it in front of him.

“One large piece of fresh peach pie with a heaping scoop of homemade vanilla ice cream for the gentleman,” She said cheerfully and replenished his coffee.

He couldn’t help but smile at her, “Why on earth would you work here?” He asked bluntly, but with a soft chuckle at the end.

“Well, I got bills to pay. Just like everyone else.” She chuckled. “You ain’t got no bills?”

God, he’d do anything to hear Y/N laugh again.

“No, I don’t.”

“No bills at all?” She shook your head slightly, smiling still, thinking he’s joking.

“I have no reason to lie.”

She stared at him, not quite sure if she actually believed him or not. Most of her customers told her a few wild things here and there. But no one around these parts looked quite like him.

He was a behemoth of a man standing taller than the green giant on a can of peas, bigger and more muscular than those lumberjacks on those Brawny paper towels. His one arm was probably the size of one of her soft and plush thighs that seemed to be restricted on those skinny jeans she’s wearing.

“Aight.” She chuckled again. Her name was called, and she glanced at a group of young men about your age who dog-whistled and hollered at her. Y/N turned back around to Reacher and forced a smile, “You enjoy your pie, sir, I’ll be back in a bit with your bill. Just holler if you need anything, yeah?”

“You know them?” Reacher suddenly turned serious. His attention was on those young men who banged on the table, demanding that she serve them.

“I-I’m sorry about them, I’ll tell them to quiet down in a minute. They’re just a little rowdy-“

“That’s not what I asked. Do you know them?” He asked again, looking up at her. Her demeanor changed. Embarrassment. She could pick out that pleather jacket out from a crowd.

Blushing slightly in embarrassment, she answered, “I know one of them… that one in the sport’s jacket. The rest are his little friends. But I’ll tell them to-“

Before she could finish, Reacher stood up from his seat, his mere size making you gasp. She hadn’t realized how large he actually was until he stood up, she hadn’t seen him when he first walked in.

“Sir- please you don’t have to talk to them, what are you doin-“

“Your name is Y/N?”

“Y-Yes…” she clutched the handle of the coffee pot to make sure she didn’t drop it. He glanced down at her and gave her a half-smirk, “Just go stay behind the counter and put the coffee back on the machine so it doesn’t get cold.”

Not knowing what to think, Y/N did what he asked, the other waitresses following suit, other customers either staying in their seats or moving away as they watched Reacher walk up to the group of rowdy young men who still tried to get your attention.

He grabbed a chair and sat it by the edge of the table and sat down. Even sitting down, his large body frame towered over them. He didn’t say anything at first but looked at them smugly for a moment as they all stared at him.

The main culprit looked like he had a vein about to pop out of his forehead, “Can I help you?”

“Any reason you need Y/N to help you?”

“She’s a waitress, and I’ve been trying to get her number for a hot minute - she works here, of course she’s going to serve us.” He scoffed.

“I don’t appreciate you calling her over like she’s a dog, Pleather.”

—

“This will just sting a little-“

“Y/N, I’m fine-“

“No you ain’t, Reacher. Your brow and your lip is all busted up and that one guy had a knife.” Y/N shook her head as she cleaned up his brow with some alcohol and then put a small bandage on his forehead.

Reacher smiled at her the whole time as he let her patch him up. She’d taken him off to the side. Moaning in the distance outside, incoherent cursing could be heard from the parking lot as the group of young men eventually stood up from the ground and made it back to their car. The main culprit was hanging out in the parking lot, looking through the window at Y/N and Reacher. He spit on the ground before finally going back to his car.

“But I’m serious, Reacher… you ain’t have to do that…” Once she finished, Y/N put the extra bandages back in the First Aid kit and looked at him with concern.

“Well, I did it anyway. And last I checked, you’re not a dog.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile and then patted his shoulder. “You’re sweet. Sorry about your pie, the ice cream is all melted. I’ll get you a new one.”

“You eat that new one, I’ll eat mine.” Reacher was not one to waste food if he could help it - especially when trouble seemed to follow him. Smiling softly, she nodded and patted his shoulder before going back behind the counter and cutting her own slice of pie as Reacher walked back to his seat, waiting and watching as Y/N walked back and sat opposite of him.

Like teenagers, they couldn’t keep eye contact while trying to eat their peach pie.

“That was some military fightin’ back there, Reacher? Is it ok if I call you Reacher?” Y/N managed to muster out, clearing his throat and looking up at him.

Chuckling softly, Reacher nodded, “Yeah, I was in for a while.” He paused for a moment, watching her eat. The stories she must’ve heard from people. The restaurant was quiet again. She looked up at him, giving him a small smile. “Jack is fine too.”

“Jack? That’s your first name?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Jack Reacher.” She said. She was quiet for a second as she examined him. Taking in his appearance. Committing him to memory. She sucked the inside of her cheek as she tilted her head. Savoring his name, as if she took a bite of him like she did that pie. The sweetness in her voice dripping from her lips as she said his whole name. Sweeter than the half-eaten peach pies sitting before them.

“I like it. Hard to forget a name like that. It’s different. You stayin’ here long, Jack?” She scooped the last bit of pie and placed the spoon face down on her tongue, sucking off whatever peach pie remnants were left on the spoon before placing the spoon on her plate.

Very few people’s opinions mattered to Reacher, he barely knew Y/N but it made him smile when she said his name and that she liked his name. It gave him an unusual feeling. Couldn’t help but wonder what peach pie would taste like when it’s on her tongue.

“Just passing through.” He leaned back once he finished his slice of pie, admiring the woman in front of him. Her lipgloss still glistened. Her eyes sparkled. Her breasts barely contained in her bra.

“That’s unfortunate. I would’ve loved to see you again, Jack.” She smiled when she took notice of him admiring her. It was a different type of admiration. “Can I call you?”

“Don’t have a phone.”

“Can I send you a letter?”

“Don’t have an address.”

“Well, damn, how will I talk to you and get to know you when you leave? Will this be the last I see of Jack Reacher, the man who saved my life?”

“I’ll come back tonight.” Reacher chuckled, smirking at her.

Y/N chuckled and then leaned forward slightly, resting her forearms on the table, making the softness in her breasts very obvious as they pressed up. “Is that so? Well, would you like me to tell you the dinner specials now or later?”

“What time to do you get off?”

“After dinner tonight. Would you like to join me for dinner?”

“I should be asking you that.” Reacher mirrored her actions, leaning forward, his massive arms made of military grade steel rested on the table. Their faces were mere inches apart.

“Well, I asked first.”

Reacher wasn’t one to pursue women. But Y/N? From the little time he got to interact with her, he might hang around this little country town a little while longer.

TAG LIST

@redpool @mykneeshurt

#Jack Reacher #alan ritchson #jack reacher x reader #jack reacher fanfic #jack reacher fan fiction #jack reacher Alan ritchson #jack reacher headcanons #jack reacher amazon #jack reacher amazon prime #reacher #reacher x reader #reacher amazon

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despapillon · 10 months

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having Will be abused by his father, bullied and shamed for his sexuality, kidnapped by a psycho monster, searched for an entire season all while he struggles to stay alive in another dimension, rescued, have to live with the trauma, bullied now also for being a 'zombie', possessed by an evil eldritch creature, manage to break free of it’s influence just for a little bit thanks to his loved ones to send them a message knowing it means sacrificing himself too, get burnt by a fire poker, be in a way involved in the deaths of ppl including his mom’s bf that could have became a father to him, get separated from the creature but still have a connection to the other dimension and a freaky balding serial killer that mentally tortures kids, have to watch his friends dismiss him in favor of their gfs when he just wants to play games and is afraid of growing up and have them try to rush through a dnd campaign he put effort into yet they act bored and make a joke out of it, when he points out he is hurt his crush makes a jab at his sexuality while dismissing his concerns and acting as if he’s wrong for just wanting to hang out with friends, get so broken by this situation to the point he uses a bat to destroy what was a safe place for him to stay when he was a child and pictures of him and his friends, never get an apology from Mike for all of this, then have to move to Cali and get separated from everyone, when he is there barely get calls from Mike while El gets tons of letters but he is too anxious to reach out to Mike himself because let’s be honest considering how he got treated by him in season 3 it’s a reasonable fear to have, when Mike finally visits he tries to hug but instead gets an awkward pat-or-whatever-the-fuck-that-was, have to watch Mike and El be all cutesy and straight up just going on a date while he tags along in the background knowing El is deceiving Mike, then after she gets viciously bullied get accused of being a douche to her, when he brings up he was a third wheel and Mike didn’t reach out to him he gets dismissed again, finally gets an apology and gains hope to the point he gains courage to take the painting but then decides to sacrifice his happiness and give it to Mike and lie to him because he thinks Mike can never love him and wants to make him feel better by disguising his feelings as supposedly El’s with the whole interaction making him breakdown all nextto Mike that doesn’t notice while his brother watches it all, have to watch El close to dying and hear Mike admitting his life started when he met El which is during the period Will got kidnapped to another dimension and then come back to Hawkins and witness the start of an apocalypse only to………

just die in season five? that’s it? why would anyone think that is the ending meant for Will? they won’t kill him, no way.

#stranger things #byler #will byers

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myownwholewildworld · 1 month

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wherever you go (a joel miller’s ff) - chapter 8

chapter 7 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 9

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)

summary: when death comes knocking, you can only answer the door.

a/n: eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek where do i even start 🥺 i’m just gonna say i’m sorry in advance and leave it at that, but if you read between lines you’ll understand. i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! they do keep me motivated. as always, THANK YOU for reading. see you on the other side! x

warnings: 18+, mdni. a LOT of angst and drama incoming. cutesy fluff. established relationship (my babies 😭). no smut in this one, don’t hate me! mentions of alcoholism and drugs as coping mechanisms. pet names (darlin’, sweetheart). clickers steal the show 😖. death everywhere so be warned. swear words. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 37. no use of y/n. joel’s and reader’s pov.

w/c: ~5k.

tags aka the drama wagon (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981

@fancyyoouu @smolbeanzzz @guelyury @bishtrouille

The patrolling shifts had increased around Chicago River and Interstate 90. The Rioters had allocated more resources to survey the borders of the area their people inhabited. In the following days to your disastrous incursion, clickers’ activity had peaked. They were coming closer, so it was decided to dispatch them as they neared.

You were all tired, but there was no rest for the wicked. They kept on moving eastwards, as if something was calling them. No one had been able to figure out why, but the answer to that question didn’t really matter. You suspected that something happened that night at the hospital ― maybe Sasha and her team did something they shouldn’t have.

You would never know, so you tried to stir your thoughts away from what would remain a mystery.

You rolled on bed, the early morning light shining a ray on your face. You grunted in discomfort. Your whole body ached ― those patrols were physically intense, but also mentally exhausting. After all, the infected had been people. A father, an auntie, a brother-in-law, a loving child… All those stories were lost to the wind, and you just hoped there still were people who remembered them as they had been before succumbing to the fungus.

You pouted ― That wasn’t how you wanted to start your day.

Still sleepy, your hand dabbed the bedsheets on your right, unconsciously looking for him.

Joel wasn’t by your side. You frowned in confusion and sat up on the bed, rubbing your eyes. As you got up and walked towards the en-suite, you heard Joel and Tommy talking on the other side of the door, where the living room was.

It was a heated argument ― an everyday occurrence lately. Since you three arrived at Chicago almost five months ago, the brothers appeared to headbutt very often. It didn’t take you long to realise that Tommy’s attitude had gradually changed over time, the alcohol being the main culprit. The bubbly, kind Tommy you had come to meet was buried somewhere underneath that ethanolic stench.

You missed his jests, his nonchalance, his light-heartedness. Buy you did understand him too ― he needed an escape from reality. You all did, really. It was just sad that was his choice of inflicting himself with absent-mindedness.

“You spent the night in the fucking cell, really?”, you heard Joel whisper angrily.

Tommy replied, but his speech was so slurred you couldn’t make out his answer.

“I don’t fucking care for your excuses anymore, Tommy, you need to get your shit together. I need you sober, for fuck’s sake ― the situation is getting dire here, we’ll need to leave soon. In this state, you can barely walk”, you knew Joel was getting frustrated attempting to reason with the younger Miller.

You contained a fatigued sigh ― Joel had tried his best these past months to help Tommy straighten out his path. But you couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to be helped. You just wished Joel understood that. But you knew he wouldn’t give up on his brother so easily. His only living relative.

You sauntered towards the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. You were in the middle of doing so when you heard Joel enter the room. His reflection appeared in the mirror in front of you and you smiled at him, your mouth full of toothpaste. The corner of his mouth lifted just slightly as he placed a heavy hand on the small of your back, his lips brushing your right temple. You closed your eyes at the soothing touch. You quickly bent over to spit the toothpaste and rinse your mouth.

“He’ll come around”, you said as his hand draped around your waist, yours stroking his forearm instinctively.

Joel humphed. “I hope so”, he muttered, his mouth pressed against your crown. “It’s not safe here anymore, darlin’, I think we should head somewhere else”.

“I hear Canada is lovely this time of the year”, you joked, hoping to lighten the mood. His expression didn’t flinch ― worry distorting his rugged, gorgeous face. “I know, I know… Could we wait a few days at least? Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve”, you blinked at him.

He considered it for a few seconds before giving in. “Alright, we’ll leave on the twenty sixth”.

You clapped your hands together, a smile widening your features. Joel cocked an inquiring brow.

“Well, Joyce is throwing a party on Christmas Day at hers and, uhmm, I kinda told her we were coming?”. His brow furrowed even more. “Pretty please?”, you begged, your fingers laced in a prayer.

You knew Joel didn’t like socialising nor big gatherings, but it was just one teeny tiny ask. You flashed your eyelashes at him.

“Okay, it won’t hurt, I guess”, he conceded reluctantly.

With an excited squeal, you turned around in his embrace, circling his neck with your arms. You stood on your tiptoes as Joel leaned forward to kiss you.

The day went by slowly. You had been assigned to the evening patrol ― your hunting duties put on hold until further notice. With all this clickers’ activity, it wasn’t safe to venture out. To your dislike, Joel had been in the afternoon one, so you kissed him goodbye when you took over. At least Tommy was with you.

You were stationed in the bridge on West Madison Street, the Lyric Opera of Chicago to your right. There was a total of ten people in your group, each one of you covering different positions. When clickers approached, you shot them through the rifle scope. It had become a mindless game, like the one you used to play in the arcade when you were younger ― Wolfenstein 3D.

Hours had gone by, and you had been standing up for so long that your feet hurt. You eyed the red, thick metal railing to your left and, with a little jump, you sat on top ― your legs dangling in front of you, facing southwards and the rifle conveniently placed on your lap. Tommy joined you a few minutes later.

He remained silent and so did you. Although he was somewhat sober, you could smell the alcohol on him. It was bad enough that he drank himself to oblivion in his free time, but it was not great he came to patrol with dulled senses.

You took a deep breath.

“Your brother needs you, y’know?”, you said with resignation. His eyes were fixed somewhere in the distance, but you could see the pain in them. “We’ll be leaving in three days, Tommy, and we both need you. This reckless path of yours could have dreadful consequences, not only for us, but for yourself… We are both here to help you out, but you’re shutting us out ― Joel is worried sick and, to be honest, so am I. And I get it, this world sucks… but you’ve got us. The people you are meeting up with… They aren’t good for you.”

He didn’t say a word for a long minute. It was probably not fair of you to pester him with your not-so-uplifting speech, but he needed to hear it. As much as you liked Tommy, what troubled you the most was that it would destroy Joel if he lost Tommy too. It had taken him a long time to open up, to start living again, and Tommy was undoing all that hard work Joel had put in.

He sighed heavily, turning to look at you.

“Do I? And please don’t get me wrong ― I’m happy for both of you. But you’ve got Joel and Joel’s got you. Again, nothing wrong with that, but it sometimes feels lonely, y’know? That’s what drove me to Laney and her group, they get me. Yeah, sure, the alcohol, the drugs ― it ain’t great, but it helps. But I know I need to get my shit together, believe me, I do, it’s just… hard”, he shrugged.

Your eyes softened, downcast expression. You knew you were just brushing the surface; it wasn’t just that he felt left out. This new world was devastating, it toyed with your mind, making you believe things that were never really there ― a figment of your imagination, of your worst fears.

You palmed his forearm to cheer him up.

“As hard as it is, I’m sure you’ll still come out the other end just fine”, you smiled, but he was evading your eyes. “You only need to reach out, Tommy. We’re here for whatever you need of us.”

You got home past midnight. You were so worn out, you just whispered goodbye to Tommy and headed towards your shared bedroom with Joel. The handle made a screeching noise, then the door creaked when you pushed it. You scrunched your face in frustration ― you didn’t want to wake Joel up if he had fallen asleep. He had trouble in doing so, his nightmares still haunted him.

You quietly closed the door behind you. The room was dark, the silence only broken by his faint snoring. You grinned ― he did snore, as much as it pained him to admit it. Tiptoeing towards your end of the bed, you scattered your clothes on the floor. Only wearing your panties, you sneaked under the bedsheets. There was no heating, but Joel’s body radiated enough warmth to keep you both cozy for the whole night ― so you curled up against his back, nipples grazing his bare skin, your left arm around his waist and your hand gently pressed against his chest. You could feel his ribcage raising with every breath he took.

He lulled you to sleep, your mind slowly drifting away. He really was your safe haven.

You smiled absentmindedly, a snug sentiment weighing in your belly. You kissed him where his shoulder blades met and whispered, “I love you.”

Maybe he dreamt it. He was not sure.

Maybe his unconsciousness made it up. He was not sure.

However it came to be, that “I love you” had been haunting his mind the whole day. His chest felt tight, a longing ache lodged in his core. Joel had not been able to get rid of that feeling ― being honest, he didn’t want it to disappear. As much as it was painful, it was also hopeful.

His heart fluttered with yearning at the memory, only coming back to reality when you elbowed his side. He had not heard what you said, but your features had lit up with your laugh. The biggest muscle in his chest skipped a beat at such beautiful melody.

“I bet you were the taciturn type as a kid, right, Joel?”, Joyce asked him, question marks dancing in her pupils.

“I was a normal, boring kid. Played a bit of baseball and went on a few fishing trips with our old man, but that’s about it. So yeah, I guess taciturn covers it”, he replied, spooning the stew into his mouth.

Tommy huffed taking a sip of the moonshine in his cup, but didn’t say anything.

The three of you ―Joel, Tommy and yourself― were in the canteen in the Art Institute of Chicago. Joyce, her granddaughter Ava, Walter and a few others were sat around the table, everyone sharing funny snippets of their childhood. Tomorrow was Christmas Day, which seemed to have lightened the mood a bit, some people had even sang some Christmas carols.

“What about you, sweet pea?”, Joyce turned her attention to you.

“I was a weird kid”, you admitted with a laugh. “Used to love bugs, and I really mean love bugs. I had a huge terrarium, a beautiful ant’s nest. I used to go out and picked some of them off the anthill in our backyard to bring them to my colony. Not gonna lie, it was fascinating seeing how the ants would work together to build their little glass community”, you shared while devouring Joyce’s stew. “Then one day, quite a few ants bit me as I was trying to relocate them to a different part of the terrarium, and they fucked me up real bad. Got a terrible infection, was in hospital for two weeks. When I came back, the whole colony was dead, my parents didn’t even let me have a look at it. It was heartbreaking. After that, I steered clear of any type of bugs. I cared for them, even named every one of them, and that’s how they paid me in return? Little bastards”, you cackled, shaking your head.

“You were indeed weird, sweetheart”, Joel muttered so low, you thought you were the only one who heard it.

You patted his hand with a chuckle, unconsciously leaning towards him, your shoulders touching. You always gravitated towards Joel, you just couldn’t control it. Your eyes met and you giggled ― his smirk widened.

“Guilty”, you whispered, his hand enveloping yours under the table.

You had forgotten Joyce was sat across you until she cleared her throat.

“So, you two lovebirds are a couple yet, or what?”, her not-so-innocent question caught you completely off guard.

Shit, shit, you thought, almost choking on your food. You had not talked to Joel about what you two really were. You loved him wholeheartedly, but you didn’t need to put a label to your relationship. At least not yet. You didn’t want to pressure him ― you knew Joel would come around when he was ready.

“Uh, well, we…”, you stammered, your heart racing so fast you thought you were going to throw it up in your bowl.

Joel’s hand gripped yours tighter.

“Yeah, we are”, he replied, matter-of-factly.

Your soul literally left your body. You scrutinised his face in awe ― your lips dissevered, sparkly eyes, speechless. A wave of relief washed over you. He did love you; you just knew it in your heart. The immense love you suddenly felt almost throttled you. If your brain was a functioning organ, you would have hugged and reciprocated him ― but your mind was still short-circuiting.

Joel’s hazel eyes held yours prisoner. He wasn’t a man of many words, but he didn’t need to be ― his orbs spoke for him. They were soft, tender, loving. You heard Joyce’s snicker, but your eyes could not leave Joel’s. There were so many things you wanted to say but couldn’t ― your heart was drowning in oxytocin.

“Why do you look so surprised, sweet pea?”, said the older woman, hardly containing a guffaw.

Before you could find any words to answer Joyce, a shrieking cry disrupted the festive atmosphere. People got up a few tables away from you, screaming so loud you couldn’t make out their words.

A few seconds later, another commotion took place but from the other end of the room.

“Infected! They are infected!”, someone shouted.

Panic spread quickly. People started running, cramming around the two exits. Pushing their way out, elbowing anyone in their way with no regards to children or the elderly. Then you saw a young girl in the middle of a circle, people trying to keep their distance from her. You recognised her from the patrols but couldn’t remember her name.

Then she propelled forward, tackling a man to the ground. He screeched loudly, trying to free himself.

“No, get away from me! Aaaarghhh!”, then silence.

You had gotten up. More cries came from the opposite direction, but you didn’t dare to look. Joel’s hand on your shoulder forced you out of your trance, and you turned to look at him.

His expression was a reflection of yours for a fraction of a second. The fear, but then the resolution.

“Move, move, we gotta go. Tommy?!”, his hands were on your back, pushing you to walk in front of him.

The younger Miller went in front of you, gun on hand, to find the way out. Then you remembered the firearm in your belt and swiftly gripped it. You were about to run behind Tommy when you realised. Suddenly stopping in your tracks, you turned around to face Joel. You looked at him intently, then to Joyce and her granddaughter.

You couldn’t leave them behind. Joyce was the best person you had known in a while. She was like family to you. And you had already lost all of your blood relatives. Joel had one look at you and understood you were not going to accept no for an answer.

“Joyce! Ava! C’mon!”, he shouted while approaching them. Joel picked up little Ava in his arms while Joyce ran towards you, thick tears blurring her vision.

You held Joyce’s trembling hand as Tommy guided you out of the building onto South Michigan Avenue. You looked back a few times, ensuring Joel was right behind you. Ava was sobbing loudly, her tiny face against the curve of Joel’s neck, wetting his t-shirt. The fearful look in his eyes told you a sad story ― you knew exactly who he was thinking of. A gut-wrenching feeling sat in the pit of your stomach.

The streets were crammed with people, everyone screaming names at the top of their lungs. You recognised a few faces: Walter, Eric and his mother, Troy, Kelsey…

“They’re coming through the bridge on West Adams Street!”, someone wailed.

All of you looked in that direction and saw a massive herd of clickers galloping towards you.

“RUN!”, you shouted at your group, pulling Joyce’s hand.

You all ran northwards, across Millenium Park. You could feel your lungs burning, your brain entering fight-or-flight mode, your heart racing so fast you were on the verge of having a cardiac arrest. But none of that mattered ― you were focused on getting out of there, all of you. Tommy, Joel, Joyce, Ava, yourself. You were going to make it out.

“Go to William Fahey bridge, it’s closer!”, Tommy yelled once on East Wacker Drive.

More clickers were coming towards you from the west ― you heard someone around you say that all the bridges on North Wacker Drive were packed with infected.

“They’re here! THEY’RE COMING!”, Joyce wept.

The whole moment was so hectic, with no time to process what was happening. You all sprinted to the only bridge in the hands of the government ― you had no other option. You were almost halfway through the bridge, just a few yards more and you would be on the other side.

As you were racing, you heard a gunshot behind you. You came to a sudden stop to check, letting go of Joyce’s hand ― Joel had just dispatched a clicker which had come too close.

“Joel! Come on!”, you begged, getting closer to grab him by his free forearm.

Then you saw them. Waves of clickers coming towards you, people falling to their demises. Your eyes widened, terror pumping through your veins. You shot a few of them, your aim perfect. But there were too many to fight, fleeing was your only real option.

“Don’t stop! Let’s fucking go!”, Tommy howled, waving at you.

Then chaos unfolded. Gunshots swirled around you. You all ducked behind a car to avoid the trajectory of the bullets ― the government soldiers were shooting to whoever attempted to cross the bridge, clickers and humans alike.

“Help!”, a cry to your left made you turned around in a panic.

Joyce was flat on her back, fighting off an infected. You couldn’t think, so you just reacted ― you leaped forwards, tackling the clicker. Knelt on top of it, its disgusting teeth snapped close to your hand. You felt a brief pang on your wrist as you lodged a bullet in its forehead.

With tears darkening your vision, you came off it and crawled to Joyce. Her eyes, devoid of life, stared at the cloudy, dusking sky. Her lifeless expression was filled with terror, tears still running down her cheeks. Blood was surging from her neck ― unconsciously, you covered the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

“No, Joyce, come on, wake up”, you whispered, grief tugging at your lungs.

She could not be gone just like that. But she was. Joyce was dead.

“Up! Lift the bridge!”, a man’s voice was carried by the wind.

Suddenly, the ground underneath you started moving up, the bridge parting exactly where you were. With no time to think, Joyce’s body rolled off the edge into the river as you tried to hold on to something to avoid the same destiny.

That something was Joel’s firm grip on your arm. His eyes wild with dread, he pulled you up and back into his arms. His trembling breath caressed your temple as he hugged you tightly. You knew he was as scared as you were, albeit for different reasons.

But there was no time for the shock to wear off. Off the corner of your eye, you saw little Ava running towards the edge, kneeling on the border, her tiny hand reaching into the abyss underneath. “Nana! Come back, nana!”, her wailing tone gave you goosebumps.

“No!”, you and Joel shouted at the same time, both lunging forward towards her.

And then she was gone too. The rotten hand of a clicker wrapped around her tiny wrist, and she fell off the bridge. Her piercing shriek was still ringing in your ears.

Joel and you remained flat against the asphalt, disheartened and broken.

“I had to let go of her for one second, you were falling, I―”, his voice faltered, his eyes broadened with remorse, transfixed on the exact spot Ava had disappeared from.

He was reliving his worst nightmare again. Your heart bled for him. For Joyce, for Ava. For yourself.

“Joel, don’t―”, you couldn’t finish. Don’t do this to yourself, you wanted to say.

“Get up! MOVE!”, Tommy shouted.

He had fended off the clickers who made it across the bridge before it was lifted. You hadn’t realised his efforts until you swept your surroundings and saw the bodies littered around you. Joel shook his head to clear his mind, casting off all emotions, and got up to his feet, helping you up in the process.

Then the three of you started running towards East Illinois Street while the government soldiers kept the clickers at bay as some of them tried to jump from one side of the bridge to the other ― this time, at least, they were aiming better than they did before.

You were still in living hell, with no chance to digest what had happened yet. It was like walking blindly through the darkness, unable to find the switch to turn on the lights. Your emotions had deserted you, at least for the time being. You needed to find shelter before you could shatter.

You raced for what felt like hours but was only minutes. You turned the corner on Erie Street, near Northwestern Hospital. The streets were filled with soldiers and uniformed police, shouting directions at the unhinged mass of people who were trying to find cover.

You stopped running, feeling like fire was consuming your lungs. Joel and Tommy stopped too to catch a breath. You bent over, hands on your knees, to aid your uncontrolled breathing ― Joel’s hand rubbed your back.

“Laney, wait up”, you heard Tommy say, and supposed that Laney and her group had made it out too.

You frowned when you saw blood dripping from your inner wrist on to your jeans. You turned your hand around to check the wound out.

Your breath didn’t reach your lungs. Teeth marks were imprinted on your skin, a grotesque sight. Your heart came to a halt, and then it pounded so hard your ears rang.

I’ve been bit, you thought, realisation dawning on you. Fuck, I’m bit.

Even though you were internally panicking like you had never before, you straightened your back and looked at Joel blankly. It felt like it wasn’t you who was talking, as if you were seeing yourself from outside your own body.

“Joel, I’ve been bit”. Your voice didn’t feel yours ― calm, ethereal.

He was watching his brother walk away, and then his eyes darted to yours in less than a second. His pupils were dilated, his nostrils flared, his lips pursed. A vein twitched in his jaw, his anxiety peaking to the highest level possible. You saw his hand shaking when he grabbed your wrist to inspect it himself.

Joel didn’t say a word. He didn’t have time to do so. You hadn’t realised that Tommy had stopped walking towards Laney and had drawn his gun as he was retracing his steps back to where you were.

“Joel, move”, the barrel was pointing at you, his hand steady.

Panic set in. Was he really going to shoot you? Just like that? Like your life didn’t matter at all? Like he wasn’t your esteemed friend? In front of Joel? Was this how you were going to die after all?

Questions flooded your mind, death knocking at your door.

Joel positioned his body in between you and Tommy ― one hand reaching back to keep you behind him, the other one in front of him at waist level, palm down, to keep Tommy away.

“Tommy, please―”, he implored in a hush.

You couldn’t see his face, but you knew his features were torn. His defeated tone ate at your conscience.

“She’s been bit, Joel. She ain’t coming with us, she can’t”, as much as Tommy wanted to convey a reassuring tone, he couldn’t.

Why was he talking like you were not there, like if you were already gone?

“Tommy, don’t do this. I lov―”, your heart sank to your stomach.

“Don’t say it, she’s dead”, Tommy cut him off before Joel could finish his appeal. “If you stay, you’re going to die. Come with me please, we’ll go with Laney and her group, we’ll survive this. You will survive this”, he nodded in your direction.

You were “this”. He was telling Joel he would get over you once you were dead. And you wanted him to listen. You were doomed, there was no coming back from this. You had seen people turn ― you had a couple of days tops before you would get lost to the fungus. Some people only lasted hours. If he stayed by your side to see you wither away… it would break him. For good.

“Joel, listen―”, you whispered, wrapping your fingers around his wrist ― a silent plea dying in your lips.

“No, don’t say a word”, he barely looked over his shoulder, unable to face you yet. “Tommy, I can’t. I just can’t”, he said under his breath.

“Choose then. Either you’re coming with me or you’re staying with her. But I won’t stay by your side to see you destroy yourself.”

An anxious knot formed in your throat. Was Tommy really going to make Joel choose between you and him? That was so fucking cruel you couldn’t believe your ears. You gaped, trying to say something, but Joel took a step back which forced you to do the same.

“Tommy, are you fucking serious?”, Joel asked, a shift in his tone from incredulity to betrayal.

“There’s your answer, I guess”, the younger Miller replied angrily.

Tommy simply walked off, not looking back, not even once.

Both Joel and you froze in place for a long minute, trying to wrap your heads around what just happened.

Your eyes drifted back down to the wound. Pus and blood oozed out. Your chest heaved, reality setting in. You were going to die. This was not what you had in mind for Christmas. How could this happen? Why you? Even with your mind racing with trepidation, you didn’t regret killing that clicker. What you lamented was that it had been for naught ― Joyce and Ava were dead.

“Hey, look at me”, Joel’s voice brought you back. His hands cradled your face, his thumbs sweeping away tears you were not aware of. “Look at me”, he repeated.

You looked up at him through damp eyelashes, memorising his face. His beautiful brown eyes were swirling with shock, with pain, with darkness, with guilt, with loss. His jaw was so clenched his lips were just a fine line. You momentarily shut your eyes, nestling your cheek into his hand before kissing his palm and taking a step back.

You could not look at him directly. The pain was too grave, too profound ― so insatiable it was consuming you. “You gotta go, Joel. Tommy is right. I’m… I’m dead. It’s just a matter of days, maybe hours. You can’t stay. You can’t follow me where I’m going.” The words escaped your mouth in shortened bursts, unable to keep a steady tone.

He took a step forward and cupped your chin, forcing your head up. His sad eyes captivated you, pulling you into their orbits, as if you were a tiny meteor dancing around too close to the black hole of his irises.

“Wherever you go, I’ll follow you. Even to the fucking edge of the atlas”, he muttered breathlessly. “I love you, so don’t ask me to leave you behind. I’m staying, till the bitter fucking end”, your heart dropped to your stomach at his confession.

This was not how you had expected things to be. You were supposed to have time with each other, all the time in the fucking world. And that time had just been snatched from you mercilessly.

Life was so fucking unjust.

You couldn’t stop the tears any longer ― they overflowed your waterlines, your vision so smeared you couldn’t see his face anymore. Your head tilted forward, until your face was buried in his chest.

Joel hugged you tightly, feeling like he was starring in a twisted horror movie. A dark void had replaced his heart, which had been completely ripped off his chest. He was barren inside. His breaths were shallow, they didn’t even reach his lungs.

Had he forgotten how to breathe?

“We need to get off the streets”, he managed to mumble, holding your hand and taking you away.

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starlightguh · 17 days

Text

An Artist Always Signs His Work

Word Count: 1,879

Tags: inappropriate uses of paint, Oral f!receiving

AN: 18+ Smut !MDNI¡ I started working on this before the Rafayel banner announcement and wanted to finish and post this before the new card dropped! I’ve truthfully not been the biggest Rafayel girly but lately he’s shown up in some spicy dreams of mine so I hope this does him justice 💕

I was taking my time doing my hair for a little outing with Tara that I had planned, when my phone started buzzing. I pause my hair routine and see Rafayel’s picture with his contact name: My Sushi <3 light up my screen.

I answer with a cutesy ‘Hellooo’ and am met with a disgruntled groan from the other end.

“I can’t do it! I won’t do it! I simply cannot draw anymore no matter how much Thomas threatens me!”

“Woah, slow down what happened?” I stifle a laugh at his dramatics.

“They expect me to have a new painting for that gallery by the end of this week and I just can’t! No matter how much I’ve painted nothing is giving that inspiration I need….You have to come help,” his voice sobbed on the other line.

“Rafayel I can’t, I have other engagements today I can’t just drop everything to help you with your art,” I sigh at his drama.

“Oh so you hate me. I get it. Well I see how much you care about me and my dying wishes, so I’m hanging up now,” his voice was full of sass as he then hung up on me.

I let out a long exasperated groan and gave Tara a phone call, “hey girl I might have to rain check on our tea date.”

“Oh that’s funny you called first! I actually ran into Dr.Greyson and am kinda caught up with him right now…We’ll definitely touch base and reschedule when I see you at work! Bye girly!”

Well that was easy. I continue to finish getting ready to go see my dying artist…

~~~~~~~~~

Im buzzed into Mo art studio with no problem. I didn’t bother calling Rafayel back since I knew where he would be whether I showed up or not.

“Knock, knock,” I call out as I open the doors to his studio space.

“Studio’s closed, I'm busy passing away…” Rafayel, whose clothes were covered in various paint colors, was laying on the floor with his arm covering his eyes.

“But I came to revive you.”

He lifts his arm away from his face and he lets in a sharp little gasp as he takes in my appearance.

I was a bit dressier than usual in my shiny short white dress and my hair and makeup done. I smiled down at his stunned expression as the pupils of his eyes darken.

“I think I’ve found my inspiration,” he says with a bit of a confident smirk.

He slowly lifts up his torso and smiles up at me before holding out his index fingers and thumbs to create a frame of me in his vision.

“Oh so that’s why you wanted me to come here, you needed a muse?”

He stands up and his taller height makes me lean my head back a bit to glance into his deep sea blueish eyes. Rafayel placed his hand under my chin and moved my face from side to side, appraising my facial features.

“Not necessarily, but your beauty has striked my inspiration. Come here while I paint,” he takes my hand and drags me to the center of his studio.

He has me sit on top of a stool in front of the background of his flowing white curtains as he sets up a canva and easel in front of me.

I sit a bit awkwardly, unsure of what to do with myself. So I kick my feet a bit as Rafayel is pouring the paints he wants to use on his wooden pallet.

His eyes are scanning the scene before him as a mischievous smirk crosses his face, “I think the subject needs more color.”

I look down at my white dress and frown, “Well I didn’t exactly bring anything else.”

He wordlessly strides over to me, and with a paint brush he slashes a stroke of blue paint on my bare arm.

“Hey! Rafayel! What are you doing?!” I shout as he laughs while splashing my skin with more paint.

“I'm just painting on my lovely canvas,” he smirks and then dips his hand in some of the paint on the pallet.

He places his forehead against mine while letting out a shaky breath as his paint covered hand slowly and sensually caresses down my bust to my waist. As his hand is the paint brush that has now ruined my dress, he stops at my waist and grips it.

“Raf,” I whisper as I glance at his plush lips. His eyes were now dark and intimate as he no longer stared at me like his muse, but rather his meal.

He lets out a huff and leans his head down to place a soft kiss at my pulse point in my neck. The only sounds I could hear was the smacking of his lip’s against my skin and the shakiness of my own breath.

I felt his nose drag up against my neck as he then brought his lips to my ear to whisper to me, “You know, when I paint, I prefer to paint subjects in their most natural state…”

He purred in my ear and pulled away a bit as he dipped his hand in his pallet and proceeded to set it down as he covered both hands in colors.

“Rafayel,” I said in a warning tone as he now has both of his hands on my body and ruined my dress with shades of blues and purples. “You owe me a new dress.”

He looks down at the paint covering my arms and seeing his hand prints on the dress he hums and nods, “You’re right….Let’s get this canvas to her natural state then.”

Before I could process what he meant by that, he had unzipped my dress and removed it off my body. I let out a yelp as the cold air touched my now exposed skin.

“This too,” he grumbled and popped my bra off immediately.

As I sat on this stool naked in nothing but my panties with wet paint covering my arms, I looked at him annoyed as my face with hot with embarrassment, “Shouldn’t you stop fooling around and actually work on your painting?” My eyes glance to the now abandoned easel he had set up.

His hands were all over my skin, his soft fingertips gently tracing paths around my breasts and sternum, leaving color in its wake. “But I am working on my painting dearest, it’s already beautiful,” he says in a whisper before leaning down to capture one of my plump mounds in his mouth.

I wrap my legs around him and let out whimpers as his tongue swirls around my sensitive bud. His face is now getting paint on it from the trails his fingers left behind earlier.

As he pulls away from my breast with a smack he stares up at me as he goes to give the other one attention. My face contorts as the feeling of his lips breaks my composure. His deep eyes are drinking in my expression as his mouth works on me and I close my eyes and turn my head away to hide from his intense gaze.

Rafayel pulls away and moves my head to face him, leaving more stains of paint as he does, “Look at me.” His voice sounds deeper than his usual teasing tone and is full of command.

I open my eyes and as I do he leans in and kisses me with a fierce intensity. His hands cup my jaw and I wrap my arms around him as his tongue parts my lips and dances in my mouth.

I drag my fingers into his purple hair as he groans into my mouth. When he pulls away I’m panting as our lips are still connected by a strand of saliva. He licks his lips with a smirk and he bites his bottom lip as he takes in my panting and flushed form.

“This is almost the vision I have,” he says as he crouches down to get more paint on his hand. He slides his hands that are wet with fresh colors up my legs as he parts them to have me sit in a straddle pose on the stool. “Beautiful.”

His hands grip my thighs as he stares at the small wet patch that’s dampened my teal cotton panties. Rafayel, like a man possessed, slides his hands underneath both sides of my underwear to slide them off me. My legs follow his path as the cotton is now cast aside and his hands are holding my painted thighs apart to expose my wet center to his vision.

“Now that I’ve painted my canvas, it’s only right that I sign my work,” his voice rumbles as he gets closer and closer to my center and he gives a lick on my slit.

“Raf-“ I pant and go to grab the back of his head, but he stops my movement with a grip on my wrist, “Don’t move or you’ll ruin the portrait.”

He lets my wrist go and dives into my center, drinking in my dripping essence with his thirsty lips. I can’t help but grip the sides of the stool and lean my head back with a moan.

The contrast of his hot mouth on me in comparison to my cold body covered in wet paint made my mind melt. I was drowning in pleasure as I could hear the lewd squelching and smacking of his mouth on my dripping pussy.

I could feel more than hear him growl as I placed my legs on his shoulders and my toes dug into the fabric of his white shirt.

“Gods Rafayel…I’m gonna,” I squeal as I close my eyes and feel his tongue on my clit.

As I focus on my breathing I can feel his tongue make what feels like the shape of an R on my slit, followed by an A then F….

I could feel my lower body tighten and heat up as I was close, “Rafayel please I’m-I…” I sputtered out as he made it to Y in his name.

He pulled away for a moment and his voice was filled with lust, “Come. Let go for me.”

When he went back to my clit and quickly finished spelling his name he then slid his tongue inside my needy hole and I instantly came undone on his mouth with a high pitched moan.

As I was breathing heavily from my orgasm, Rafayel pulled away with half of his face dripping in my juices. He smiled and licked his lips, “Perfect stay like that.”

He stood and rushed over to the actual canvas and quickly began trying to immortalize my pleasure in a painting on his canvas.

Needless to say he had to repose his muse with a few more orgasms to ‘get my expression just right.’

The finished product was me covered in paints of blues and purples and completely fucked out of my mind, while his actual portrait depicted a naked woman being swallowed up by the sea. I was too embarrassed to acknowledge that her pleasured face was what Rafayel saw as he expertly pulled out of me over and over again that day.

~fin~

#love and deepspace #lads smut #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #lads rafayel #lads rafayel x reader #lads fanfic #lads x reader #rafayel love and deepspace

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year

Text

Title: Chauvinism.

Commissioned by the very lovely @meri47.

Pairing: Yandere!Clark Kent | Superman x Reader (DC).

Word Count: 2.6k.

TW: Kidnapping, Plans for Prolonged Imprisonment, Nonconsensual Touching, Obsessive Behavior, and Slight Codependency.

You woke up to the feeling of something burning into the back of your head.

Again, true to the most literal definition of the word, burning. You bolted upward, bringing one had to the back of your scalp as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes with the other. Exhaustion weighed you down, made it difficult to think about anything but the searing pain burrowing into your, the stiffness of your joints, the static numbness pricking at your fingertips, but luckily, you didn’t find an injury, didn’t smell burning hair, didn’t feel flesh melting off of bone or blisters forming across delicate skin – even if you were uncomfortably warm in that familiar, ‘held your hands too close to an open bonfire’ way. Still, you had to force yourself to calm down, to tear your attention away from your own startled distress and turn your focus outward.

You weren’t on fire, which was good. That was good.

But, you were in a strange room with strange crystalline walls, which was bad.

Very, very bad.

You swallowed down something thick and dry that’d lodged itself in your throat. The scenery was as blank as it was alien – all featureless, all bizarre, little more than a series of hexagonal pedestals that erupted from the ground without pattern or intention and four chrome walls so well polished, your own distorted reflections were able to corner you on all sides, and so tall, you weren’t able to make out the ceiling that had to be looming somewhere far above your head. The only actual piece of furniture seemed to be the bed you were sitting on; a remarkably normal mattress swamped with remarkably normal sheets, blankets, quilts - all doting cutesy, sappy patterns, all things you’d find in the bedding aisle of a particularly folksy home-goods store.

Partially out of curiosity and partially out of hope that you’d be able to dispel the knot of dread coiling in your stomach, you turned over the corner of the nearest quilt, finding a paper tag still on the end of its plastic toggle. That, for as thankful as you were not to be lying on a bare stone floor, was almost the most concerning thing you'd seen so far. It meant that someone had found the time to prepare this, to get ready for you. It meant that someone had decided to bring you here, and had given your abduction enough forethought to buy a fucking blanket.

You were almost tempted to curl back into yourself, to cover yourself in a stranger’s blankets and pretend you’d never woken up, but any delusions you might’ve had of being able to sleep this off like a bad dream were dispelled by the sound of a man clearing his throat, a new weight coming to rest on the other side of your bed. You jerked around the face the new presence, your eyes instantly landing on the monster who’d—

— on your coworker, Clark Kent, sitting on the edge of your mattress.

Your coworker, Clark Kent, who was inexplicably dressed like Superman.

For a second, all your panic and all your fear seemed to disappear in favor of making more room for complete and utter confusion. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and admittedly, his get-up looked a step above what you’d find on the clearance rack of some out-of-season costume store. You couldn’t imagine where he’d gotten it. He was smiling, too – that gentle smile, the same one he wore as he slipped a mug of freshly brewed coffee onto your desk an hour before either of you were supposed to be so much as thinking about getting to work, as he rubbed the back of his neck and admitted that he got too caught up while he was writing his last article and pulled his third all-nighter that week. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but relax. Clark was here, which meant that wherever ‘here’ was, it couldn’t be that bad. You couldn’t be in that much danger if Daily Planet’s resident sweetheart had managed to make it out unscathed.

“Clark!” You scrambled toward him, already grinning. “Oh my god, thank fuck you’re here – I’m don’t know where we are, and my head really hurts, but I don’t think we’re—”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. You were out for a while – try to remember to breathe.” His tone was like his expression – light, soothing, comforting enough to have you nodding along in an instant, to have you doing your best to inhale and exhale without cutting yourself off with more half-formed fears. He moved toward you, his fingertips brushing against your bicep before he draped an arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You melted against him, and with an airy chuckle, he went on, keeping up a tenor that could’ve lulled you to sleep in any other circumstance. “You said that your head hurts? If you feel dehydrated, I get you something to drink.”

“No, that’s aright, I’m alright. I just—” You glanced towards the crystal walls, towards the nonexistent ceiling. “Do you know where we are?”

There was a slight lilt to his smile, a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder. “If that’s what’s got your heart beating out of your chest, you can let your guard down. We’re in the Fortress of Solitude. Unless a supervillain found a way to terrorize the North Pole, you’re perfectly safe.”

Now, it was your turn to laugh. “The Fortress of Solitude? I’m not an idiot, Clark. What do you want me to think – that Superman needs a house sitter?”

He was quiet, for a second.

Then, empathy practically dripping from his tongue, he said, “Honey, I am Superman.”

He’d hesitated, but you didn’t. Your reaction was instantaneous, automatic; a swell of bubbling laughter and a playful elbow driven into his side. You loved Clark, but he wasn’t a superhero. He kept a running list of the names of his coworkers’ pets, to make sure he never mistook Rebecca’s dog for Max’s rabbit. Whenever he stubbed his toe on a doorframe, he’d apologize to the doorframe. When aliens rained down from the sky or monsters erupted from the ground, Clark was always the first to run, and while you couldn’t blame him, you couldn’t say his tendency to make himself scarce as soon as the villain of the week reared its ugly head was very heroic, either. “That’s not funny,” you managed, eventually, in spite of your nervous smile. “We could be in danger. If you want to put on a Halloween costume and pretend to be a superhero, at least wait until we’ve gotten back to Metropolis.”

To his credit, he kept a straight face. “I wouldn’t lie to you, (Y/n).”

“At least try to make it plausible, then. I mean, he’s an alien, for fuck’s sake, and you’re from southern Kansas. He can fly, and you get stuck in traffic every morning. I’ve been to your flat, and everybody knows Superman lives in the Fortress of—”

Your voice died in your throat. Your mouth fell shut, and you went limp against his side.

After several seconds of stubborn silence, you forced yourself to spit out a soft “Prove it.”

His grin broadened. With a single hand, he took up the scruff of your blouse and lifted you off of the mattress without a hint of strain or trepidation. You were tossed, cursing and thrashing against his hold, into the air and caught in his lap, every step of the process just as effortless as the one that’d come before it. On reflex, you clung to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and cursing under your breath. He only laughed, glazing over your distress, your confusion in favor of paying more mind to your amazement. “The laser eyes can get a little out of hand, and flying indoors is…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Is inhume strength enough, or are you going to make me break out the x-ray vision?”

“No, that’s not— I think you’ve done enough.” You felt breathless, like you’d just run a marathon. You felt drained, and exhausted, and frail, but you forced yourself to smile up at him, to remember that he was still your coworker, still your friend, still Clark Kent.

And if you knew anything, you knew that Clark Kent couldn’t hurt a fly.

(You also knew that Superman would’ve been able to break your neck with a flick of his wrist, but you tried not to think about that.)

“This is great,” you kept your tone bright, cheerful, burying your anxiety beneath a heavy layer of brimming enthusiasm. “You have to tell me everything! As soon as we get back to Metropolis, you’re going to—”

“About that,” he cut in, only somewhat apologetic. “Metropolis might have to wait. This can be a sensitive time, and I thought it might be better for you to stay here, with me, just until you’ve adjusted to…” There was another pause, another sympathetic smile. The heel of his palm pressed into the small of your back, and against your will, you were reminded of just how easily he could crush your windpipe, or break your spine, or rip your heart out of your chest before your body had time to give out. “To this. To us.”

You didn’t have his resilience. Your expression immediately dropped. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t waste time, didn’t pretend to believe it was a genuine question. “Think of it as a precaution. You’re just going to stay somewhere safe and quiet for a few weeks, let some new information soak in, and when you’re ready, we can go home together.” He bowed his head, his lips ghosting over the curve of your shoulder. You tried to let go of him, to put a little distance between yourself and Clark, but his hand rose the back of your neck, keeping you pinned against his chest as he went on. “I tried to think of a way to do this at home, but it wouldn’t have worked out. You’re going to be in danger, and this—” He nodded toward the crystal walls. “—is one of the only places where I know you’ll be safe. From the people who want to hurt me, and from yourself, while you’re still learning.”

“Learning what? Clark, I might be a reporter, but I’m not going to sell your secret identity to the first paper that makes a bid.” Another half-hearted shove to his chest, another attempt to give yourself space to breathe. He only held you tighter, his smile pressing into the side of your neck. “I-It’s not like you can keep me here, either. I mean, it’s not like heroes hold civilians hostage.”

“Heroes do what they have to do,” he muttered, his voice stifled by proximity, his breath warm against your skin. “’specially if it means keeping the people they love safe.”

It felt like a stupid thing to ask, given your situation, your position. It felt like a waste of breath, considering you were in his lap, in the heart of his secret lair, with his mouth pressed against your skin and his hands drifting toward your waist, and yet, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. “You love me?”

There was a throaty laugh, a squeeze to your side. “With all my heart.” There was no hesitation, no reluctance. If you’d been standing, your legs might’ve given out. “I wish it didn’t have to be so complicated. I really did try to find a workaround, but if I tried to approach you as Clark, you’d never be fully protected from everyone who’s after Superman, and if I tried to love you as Superman – well, then you’d never pay Clark a second glance. I didn’t want you to only know half of who I am.” A kiss, this time, shallow and fleeting, pressed into the corner of your jaw. “This was the only way I could show you who I was without putting you in harm's way. You’ll learn the ropes here, and when you’re ready, we can go back to Metropolis and get you moved into my place—”

A waste of time, a waste of breath, a waste of hope. Still, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from making bad decisions, today. “What would you do if I didn’t feel the same way?”

This time, it was a kiss to your temple, then your forehead. He didn’t try to kiss you – to actually kiss you, thank God – but it was a small mercy, further dampened by the fact that he was still holding you, still keeping you as close as you could possibly be. After long, agonizing seconds, he raised his head. If he was worried, if he noticed the tension in your shoulders, how stiffly you held yourself, you couldn’t tell from his easy smile, the levity in his tone. If anything, he seemed excited, eager to plan out your future together with or without your cooperation.

“If you didn’t love me…” He tried to laugh, but the air hitched in his throat and he settled for a wistful sigh. “Why are you asking? Have something you want to tell me?”

“It’s a hypothetical.” Your tongue felt swollen, your head heavier than it should’ve been. “Just… indulge me, alright? I’m curious.”

“Like I said, you don’t have anything to worry about. If you took a little time to come around to me, I wouldn’t mind – it wouldn’t change anything, either.” It was a corrupted type of reassurance. Rather than soothing your anxiety, it only seemed to make you feel more sick. “I’d just have to work a little harder, keep a closer eye on you. I mean, I already plan on keep you as close as I can, but—” He clicked his tongue, brushed a few stray hairs away from your face. “—I guess I’d have to hold you a little tighter. Until I could trust you to come around on your own, at least.”

He'd already taken you to an impenetrable fortress in the middle of a frozen wasteland, hundreds of thousands of miles away from the nearest person. You weren’t sure how much more tightly he could hold you.

Dread welled in the cavity of your chest, something sweet and sickly rising into the back of your throat, but you managed to nod, to lean against him. He welcomed your cooperation, rewarded it with a low, throaty sound of approval. “I should show you around. There isn’t much to see, but, y’know, common courtesy and all that.”

“I’m… actually still pretty tired.” It wasn’t a lie. You were exhausted, and you wanted more than anything to crawl into the nearest hole and wait until this had all blown over. But, there weren’t any holes you could crawl into – just a bed, a few mirrored walls, and a man you had formerly thought of as Clark Kent. “I think I might need to take it easy for a couple hours, just to give my brain time to process all this. Would… would that be okay?”

That, that was what made him falter – earning a slight lapse, a new quirk to his smile – but he held himself steady, only nodding as you shifted off of his lap. Hesitantly, with no small amount of apprehension, you edged away from him, daring to put just an arm’s length worth of distance between yourself and him and letting out an ounce of tension drain out of your rigid form when he didn’t immediately decide you weren’t worth the effort, when you didn’t find yourself reduced to little more than ash or pulverized viscera. “Of course. Give me a few minutes, I’ll get you something more comfortable to—“

“This is fine.” Your voice cracked, but you tried to pretend you didn’t notice. “I mean, I’m fine. I just— I think I need a little time to myself. To take this all in.”

His disappointment was visible, but he didn’t argue. You waited until he’d left your room, until he was out of sight and out of earshot, to slip back under your mound of blankets and shrink into yourself. You were exhausted, and yet, you’d never been more awake in your life. Sleep seemed like a distant dream, leaving yourself helpless and unaware like a lurking nightmare.

It was all you could do to lie there, small and vulnerable, and try to ignore the eyes burning into the back of your neck.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere scenarios #yandere dc #dc x reader #superman x reader #yandere superman #dc imagines #clark kent x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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thebearer · 1 year

Note

stop, thinking of teddys first holidays. she’s still a little new to being earthside. like her first halloween you dress her up in an animal onesie or something, and she’s barely old enough to stay awake for longer than an hour for thanksgiving so everyone’s cooing over how blue her eyes are and how much heartburn you had because of how dark and curly her hair is. and for christmas you get to start your new family traditions, and how carms like “this is more for mama, then you” and she is just sucking on her paci looking at the new lights on the tree

oh i have to elaborate on these i'm sorry this is so cute ahhhhh!!! having an idea that you make a little calendar of teddy or maybe document each milestone with a cutesy type photo shoot??? i think carmen would sob.

thinking about teddy's first halloween. you ordered a little bear costume for her to surprise carmen and it's WAYYYYY too big lol. she ends up in a little pumpkin onesie instead, but carmen thinks the costume is adorable. how big she is in it. then next year, she fits in it and he's stupidly emotional. like beyond emo about it. she can sorta toddle and walk and babble and it's still a little big, but by her third halloween she fits in it. it became a running joke that you'd keep trying until she fit. you'd send a picture every year to your friends and family saying something like "closer this time! maybe next year!"

when it does finally fit, you snap a picture and put it on your instagram.

finally fits. happy halloween from the berzatto's

her first thanksgiving, she's about three months pushing four (i hc she's an august leo baby... she gives leo energy and you know she does). you had so much heartburn. next to carmy's pepto was your tums bc it was so bad. the old wives tale lived up bc she came out with a full head of hair. a true berzatto trait, you decided.

carmen's favorite holiday was thanksgiving. especially with you and his "chosen family" he likes being able to cook and it's not chaos like his usual family. he holds teddy while you eat, you'll spoon him bite fulls of his own meal but he's content being showered with compliments about how good the food is. boosts his ego.

you give teddy a little bit of gravy, off your pinky, everyone at the table laughing when she smacked her lips, eyes opening at the taste. carmen beamed. he'd never been so happy.

carmen and richie are taking a smoke break outside, so you take the chance to snap a photo. teddy all bundled up in a bear onesie (a gift from tina ofc) and you lay her in a pile of leaves.

carmen feels his phone buzz, looking down to see you tagged him in a photo on instagram. he's grinning ear to fucking ear.

first thanksgiving and first leaf pile. big day for teddy bear! thankful for my baby teddy and my baby daddy @/chefberzatto

by christmas, teddy is enamored with the lights. she loves watching the tree, just gawking at it and all it's shiny ornaments. carmen spends a good portion of his time holding her, bouncing her gently in his arms and showing her the many different sparkling trinkets on it.

carmen is doing his best to try and create new traditions, happy traditions that would let teddy grow up loving and looking forward to the holidays. not dreading them and wishing they'd be over soon like carmen grew up with. love and caring instead of chaos.

you'd taken teddy to see santa, which she'd sobbed the whole time about. carmen had to sit next to the mall worker, holding teddy so she'd be halfway calm, but even then she'd refused to smile- only giving a pitiful, pouting lip jut that had you melting and cooing at her.

carmen had insisted on making holiday cookies. gingerbread cookies (more for you and him than teddy) but he said it gave him time to perfect it by the time she could enjoy them. he'd make a batch, a homemade hot chocolate (your powdered and hot water made him gag) sitting down to watch the grinch with you and teddy. you in his arms, teddy cuddled to your chest in her little christmas footy pajamas.

carmen was at work the next day when marcus laughed, calling him over to see what you'd posted.

gingerbread-ted thanks to @/chefberzatto (ps his were good but @/marcusbakes is much better lol)

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deathblacksmoke · 10 months

Text

like lovers entwined

pairing: noah sebastian x nick ruffilo x fem reader

cw: polyamorous relationship, cozy morning sex, threesome, unprotected p in v sex, fingering (f receiving), double penetration (kinda), all the sweetness for our favorite birthday boy

word count: 1.5K

taglist: @concretenoah / @ladyveronikawrites / @circle-with-me / @darksigns-exe / @xxrainstorm / @agravemisstake / @monotoniscreaming

let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future fics!

author's note: just wanted to write a little something sweet and cutesy (and sexy and a little filthy, as i do) for ruff's special day. fair warning: not proofread. all mistakes are the fault of my silly brain.

**************************************************************

You wake up to Nick pressed against you. It’s so cold in the room–thanks, Noah–but he’s so warm, the length of his body pressed close against your back, arm slung over the two of you.

You feel at ease here, in bed with your boys; you feel surrounded by them, your absolute favorite thing. Being sandwiched between them always feels at once grounded and floaty. You pull the blanket up higher and settle back against Nick’s front, pulling Noah in. Nick stirs a little, holding the both of you closer, not rushing. Noah wiggles himself back into you, warm and solid and still sound asleep.

“What are you doing, sweet girl?” Nick asks, placing kisses to your bare skin. You can hear him breathing heavy, a little ragged, warm breaths ghosting over the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You realize you’ve been mindlessly wriggling yourself back against him as you feel him getting harder against you, getting wetter for him. The arm he had slung over Noah moves behind your body, down between your thighs, fingers ghosting over your center through your panties. “I said, what are you doing, sweet girl?”

“Birthday present?” you offer, gasping when his fingers push your panties to the side, dragging through your folds.

“You’re so wet for me already,” he praises, pressing into your clit briefly and dragging back down, ghosting over your entrance, pulling a moan from you. “Birthday present, huh?”

He pulls his hand away and you almost whine, complaints ready on your lips until his fingers are notching under the waistband of your panties. “Nicky,” you whisper, taking his hand in yours and helping him get them off of you. You feel him press close to you again, hard and insistent against your back.

“What did you have in mind?” he asks, kissing and nipping at your neck. His fingers are back and you’re shaking, twitching, needing him. “You know how I love your birthday presents.”

You didn’t have anything in mind–you hadn’t even thought of this before you woke up, aching for him–for his touch, his mouth, his cock. Anything he has to offer you. “You decide,” you say. “Your birthday. You pick.”

“Generous girl,” he says, cock notching at your entrance, drawing a gasp from you. You close your legs around him as he drags his cock through you, teasing your slit, but he pulls back when you groan. “Lie on your back and hitch your leg up over Noah. Be careful, though–you wouldn’t want to wake our sleeping beauty.”

You do as he asks, settling flat on your back and draping a leg over Noah’s hip. Nick is crawling between your legs and doesn’t give you a moment before his mouth closes around your clit, two fingers in your cunt. The stretch burns, just slightly, momentarily. Your responding moan is louder than you intended, and Nick is up in a moment, clamping a hand over your mouth to quiet you. “You’ll wake him up if you’re not careful. Do you want to wake him up?”

You can’t help but laugh, giggles muffled by Nick’s palm. You nod, feeling his grin against your neck before he bites down, fingers curling inside you.

“Go ahead. Wake him up, then.”

You hitch your leg higher over Noah, dragging him closer towards you. Your legs are spread so wide, you’re tempted to feel shame by the obscenity of it. Nick settles back down, closes his mouth around you again and swirls his tongue, fingers delving deep—your gasp is automatic. Noah stirs, turning to face you when you cry out again, louder. His eyes focus on you, narrowing when he realizes what’s happening.

“Starting without me?” he asks, and you can’t speak—not when Nick’s fucking you so thoroughly with his fingers, not when Noah sneaks a hand under your sleep shirt, grazing a finger over your nipple, teasing it between his thumb and index finger. “Sneaky girl, trying to get the birthday boy all to yourself. That’s not fair.”

“I woke you—” you start, breaking off into a gasp when Nick brushes over that perfect fucking spot inside you, the slightest graze of teeth over your clit, an edge of pain with your pleasure. “I woke you up, didn’t I?”

“Before he got his cock in you and everything, lucky me,” Noah says, kissing your neck to distract you as his hand moves lower, fingers replacing Nick’s mouth on your clit–Nick’s mouth moving lower, too, licking inside you, between his two fingers. “Who are you this wet for, baby?” Noah asks, teasing you. “It’s for Nicky, huh?” you nod, groaning, no use in sugarcoating it. “I know. He really knows how to use his mouth, doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” you gasp, settling further into the bed, closing your eyes and focusing solely on the way their hands feel. The way Nick’s mouth feels. The way it may be a little bit dramatic, but you feel almost like you could ascend to heaven with the way that it all feels so good and so much. “God, Nick, that feels so good.”

“What about me?” Noah asks, humor clear in his tone. Nick laughs and the vibration goes straight through you, making you grind your hips down into both of them. “What do you want to do with her, Nicky? You think she’s ready for your cock?”

You groan desperately, dizzied as always by the way they talk about you like you’re not there, while they’re touching you–clearly very aware of your presence. “Why don’t you ask her, baby?”

“Seems ready to me,” Noah says, dipping two fingers into you alongside Nick’s. The stretch is so good your vision blacks. “Look at my fingers, Nick, they’re fucking sopping,” he adds, and you have half a mind to be embarrassed. They wouldn’t want you to be, so you push it away. “If she’s not ready, I can be.”

He’s joking. Kind of. You know he’d take your place in a moment.

“I think a lot of that is my spit, actually,” Nick offers, bringing a hand down hard against your tummy to keep you from squirming when you laugh. “And her pussy. She’s soaked.”

“Are you ready for him?” Noah asks–he doesn’t even finish asking before you’re nodding your head and squirming. “Fuck, yes, I knew it.”

Nick stands, sliding his pj pants down his legs. Your mouth waters as you get a good look at him. Noah is at his side in a moment, taking Nick in his hand and kissing him, hard, on the mouth. They whisper into each other’s mouths, giggling before kissing again. You wish you could hear what they’re saying, but you have a good enough idea. Something sweet, something filthy, and you’re wetter and squirmy just imagining it.

Nick crawls over you, hiking your legs up around his hips. Noah brackets your side, arm gentle and wandering over your torso. When Nick’s cock breaches your entrance, you gasp, the stretch so delicious and always a little bit too much, to start. But so good. Too good.

When you whine, Nick kisses across your face to soothe you. Noah’s hand travels down, middle finger playing across your clit. You’re so close already from all that time they spent on you. You have to squeeze your eyes shut, focus on lasting a little longer for them, but it goes a little out the window when Noah’s hand moves lower, two fingers sliding into you alongside Nick.

“Oh, fuck,” Nick moans, at the same time that you gasp out Noah’s name.

The stretch is too much, maybe, it pulls you away from the edge until he curls his fingers, taking you closer and closer until you’re not sure how much longer you can stand it.

“Oh god, I’m so close. Please,” you moan, grinding yourself down onto Nick’s cock, into Noah’s fingers. At the press of Noah’s thumb at your clit, it’s instant. You reach your end with a wail and Nick fucks you through it, Noah pressing soft kisses to your neck until they can tell you’re oversensitive.

When Nick pulls out, Noah is on him in a moment. He licks a palm, wrapping a hand around Nick and another around himself. They kiss, lost in their world–it has the power to make you feel left out, ignored, but you love watching them with each other. You love watching their care and softness, the way they can read each other so well.

When Noah cums, burying his face in Nick’s neck and whimpering; when Nick does, painting his own belly and gaze shifting to you, pretty eyes sparkling–you don’t feel left out at all.

They bracket your sides again, pressing kisses to your cheek. It almost feels like your birthday.

“Happy birthday, Nicky,” you say, tangling a hand in his hair and kissing him. Noah echoes the sentiment, leaning over your body to do the same.

“We’re sleeping in today,” Nick says, resting his head on your chest and swinging an arm over Noah, pulling him closer. “Y’all wore me the fuck out.”

#bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens rpf #nick ruffilo fic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #nick ruffilo rpf #nicholas ruffilo fic #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo rpf #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian rpf #nick ruffilo x reader #nicholas ruffilo x reader #noah sebastian x reader #nick ruffilo x noah sebastian #nicholas ruffilo x noah sebastian #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo x reader #deathblacksmoke works

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svmjaeyvn · 7 months

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love maze, s.jy.

chapter seven pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: tbd (series)

masterlist

add yourself to the taglist here!

genre: college!au, mutual friends, fake dating, smut.

synopsis: an unfortunate encounter, drunken mistakes, and a sort of (definitely) stalker leads jake sim ‘dating’ his best friend’s childhood crush.

or, your life gets intertwined with a rich boy’s in attempt to not get sued by his crazy personal fangirl and like with all good cliches, sex overcomplicates things.

contents: smut, sort of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers pipeline, childhood best friend!jay, mentions of best friend! yunjin, curly haired & mixed reader, uni!au, rich nepo baby!jake, enha frat boys, lots of kissing, fake dating turning into fwb real quick, totally way too into it for it to be fake early on, big booty reader that’s jake’s obsessed with, partying and alcohol use, slight violence, he fell first and harder trope, stem bf & writer gf, (kinda overly) possessive jake, some angst to spice things up, daddy issues, hyper independent reader who struggles with her feelings, fluff and happy ending!!

a/n: hello~ i’ve never been a tumblr girly but i have went through my w*ttpad era back in 2018 so bare with me y’all. this will be a series but not that long (i hope) so pls look forward to it. warning tags will be placed before each “chapter” to specify what to expect. pls pls reblog and interact, i’d love to have feedback and see what your thoughts are. okay! yay, for now enjoy and thank you sm :D

MDNI, 18+

tap below to continue

CHAPTER SEVEN: PERILLA LEAF DEBATE

previous masterlist next

word count: 2.4k

warnings: alcohol (underaged gasp), innuendos, suggestive language, cursing, yunjin says sexism as a joke, jake smacks ni-ki upside the head but that’s basically it lol

a/n: just a cutesy little chapter full of some crumbs of fluff. i don’t really know how long im gonna make this series 😭 also finally some content of all of them together we love!!!! (channeling jungkook for heeseung and sunghoons stance here)

"I NEVER AGREED to this," Yunjin gapes, staring at the large rapids that the lake held, Heeseung attempting to convince her to go tubing. "You said it was like the lazy river things at those water parks, not a whole waterfall!"

"It's fun," He laughs, a hand lightly tugging at her arm while she shakes her head. "C'mon, you said you would. You gonna leave me alone now?" Heeseung pouts, the puppy eyes he gave Yunjin more than enough to be convincing no matter how hard she tried.

You watched from afar, a small snort erupting as you see her nod along without much hesitation. A week in the making, Heeseung and Jay had put together a three-day vacation for the group. Headed out three hours north from campus, they reserved a lot on a camping reservation. Having left so early, much to everyone's dismay, Jay had successfully leaded the two cars to arrive in the morning and find a spot to call home right beside the river which was the main attraction of said grounds.

In a fairly shady spot due to the large trees, it provided enough room away from any other campers that would arrive, a sort of privacy at the end. Truthfully, you weren't the biggest fan of sleeping on rocky ground and having no access to an actual hot shower for the next few days but you agreed with much reluctance. Jay had went as far as talking to Cho herself to ensure you and Ni-ki would have the adequate days off and buying a blow up mattress for your sake.

"10 bucks says they'll hook up by the end of the trip," Sunghoon snickers, his voice breaking your thoughts as you jump slightly out of surprise.

"Maybe not hook up," You shiver at the thought. "We're sleeping in tents, I'd hope they wouldn't especially since I'm supposed to share with her," Grimacing at the thought, you shake your head. "But definitely make out a couple times, Heeseung's obvious as hell,"

"Pretty sure Jake didn't get that memo," Sunghoon nods toward said boy, watching as he was in the midst of setting up a tent with Ni-ki's help. Glancing over, you see how he grouped yours and his things together, presumably setting up for you to share for the next few days. "I'm not worried about them. Jake has no shame though so I'll be sleeping as far away as I can from you two,"

"We're not fucking next to the kids," You defend, gesturing toward the larger tent that would house Sunoo, Jungwon, and Ni-ki while Sunghoon laughs at your dumbfounded expression. Shoving his shoulder, you shake your head at the amused look he sent your way. Sticking your tongue out at Sunghoon childishly, he returns the gesture while you make your way toward the two crouched attempting to get the tent secured in place.

"Just nail it into the dirt—"

"This is like concrete it doesn't want to go in!" Ni-ki huffs, the consistent banging of the hammer to the metal pick heard though you couldn't due to the material blocking your view. Jake notices your presence, a small smile thrown your way but you took note of his obvious annoyance. Just as he was about to move to help Ni-ki, the younger boy lets out a loud laugh. "Ah! Ha! I did it! Fucking thing took forever but it worked,"

"Ni-ki," You tsk, the boy standing up and sheepishly peering around the now perched tent with an innocent smile.

"Sorry," He mumbles out. Rolling your eyes, you wave him off while Jake stands up, dusting his hands off on his pants and rolling his neck with a wince. "Is it done?"

"That took so much longer than it should've," He says under his breath, looking around and ensuring it would stay up. "Yeah all good, thank you," Jake calls out while Ni-ki gives him a thumbs up before walking away to where Jungwon and Jay seemed to be messing with the grill.

You pursed your lips seeing how tense Jake seemed to be. He wasn't a morning person, something you've come to realize, thus spending 3 hours cramped in a car full of people so early certainly did a number on him. His patience was thin, Ni-ki not moving fast enough for him seemed to worsen it and although he wasn't outwardly going to say anything, Jake seemed rather spent.

Stepping behind him, you wrap your arms around his waist, your head leaned against his back while he seemed to melt to your touch.

"What're you doing?" Jake lets out a small laugh, one of his hands falling over your own that was along his midsection. He turns his head slightly, attempting to get a glance at you but the height difference only allowed him to see the top of your head.

“Take a break," You mumble into his back.

Jake felt his stomach flip involuntarily, the warmth of your body pushed against his did more in seconds than he liked to admit in helping him relax. Pulling away so he had room to turn, he flipped around to allow you both to face one another. His arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders after yours stayed put at his waist.

"I think this is the first time you initiated us touching," He hums, the giddy smile that made its way into his lips more than obvious. "You love me now or what?"

You roll your eyes. “I barely tolerate you, don’t get ahead of yourself Sim,” You tut, pinching at his side causing him to laugh. “I just figured to distract you before you blew up on one of the kids for being annoying. Is it working?”

Jake hums, nodding along to your words. One of his hands pushed away the hair that blew in your face, tucking it behind your ear but not moving as he gentle cupped your cheek. “Good distraction,” He mumbles, leaning closer to put a chaste peck to the tip of your nose.

Your face scrunches up, the minimal amount of blush making its way to the apples of your cheeks. You quickly turn away to ensure he wouldn’t see, unraveling yourself from his grasp and pausing short seeing how utterly disgusted Jay looked from the opposite side of the area.

“Do you really have to do that here?!”

“OKAY OKAY, I got one,” Jungwon holds out his hands, gaining the attention of the group that sat around the campfire as the contents of his cup sloshed around as he did so. “Cheating or not cheating: the perilla leaf thing that’s been trending?”

Immediately riling up the group, Heeseung and Sunghoon were quick to shout of their ambient no’s while Ni-ki and Sunoo held no problem with it. Since the sun had set and the fire ignited, your group of nine had been gathered around talking about everything and anything. Having been filled up by Jay’s grilling earlier, the causal drinking had begun and thus the conversation topics slowly began to get more heated through debate.

“No, I’m not just gonna let one of you help feed my girlfriend. Basically touching chopsticks that’s weird,” Heeseung shakes his head while Sunghoon points in agreement.

“That’s because you’re overly possessive either way hyung,” Sunoo rolls his eyes, though a small laugh left his lips as the older boy clicks his tongue.

“First it’s the perilla leaf then it’s holding hands and making out behind my back,” Sunghoon dramatically huffs out, louder than usual due to the alcohol coursing through his bloodstream while Yunjin snorts from her seat beside him.

“That’s a crazy jump from a simple dinner encounter,” She snickers while he shakes his head.

“I don’t like it,” Sunghoon says entirely close minded before hitting Jay’s shoulder who sat to his left. “What do you think?”

“I don’t necessarily have a problem with it as long as it’s like a one time thing,” He shrugs, lifting the bottle to his lips to take a swig. “Once or twice okay, and as long as it’s not just specifically between them only. I think as the boyfriend it would be my job to feed her,”

Jungwon hums in agreement to Jay’s explanation. “Yeah me too, one or twice is fine but its technically something that I should do,”

“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Ni-ki pipes in, gesturing around the group. “Especially if it were one of you, we’re all friends. It wouldn’t be something weird or out of bad intention,”

“What if it were Yunjin or I?” You suddenly ask, sitting up from your slouched position in having your feet dangle off of Jake’s legs from your seat. “Is it different if it’s one of the boys compared to us?”

Sunghoon falters, a sheepish smile taking over his lips knowing it was a convicting question. “Well—”

“Sexism!” Yunjin yells out, an accusing finger pointed toward the boy who sputtered to respond.

“No, none of you can do it,” Heeseung shakes his head. “I’m a hater to all, I know you two are girl kissers too so no! I don’t need my only girl friends stealing my girl,” He tuts while you let out a small laugh at the thought, seeing his pouty lips at the complete imaginary scenario.

“Lets ask the actual couple in the group,” Jungwon clears the air, being the main instigator of the topic as he gestures toward you and Jake who had kept quiet, merely amused by the conversation his friends debated upon. “Hyung what do you think?”

You raise a brow as you turn to Jake who sat on your right. One of his hands was comfortably placed on your shins, tracing small circles along your skin as you continued to wear shorts due to the humid air. His other dangled his beer bottle in hand, seemingly comfortable with a slight buzz.

His eyes peer over to yours, amusement lingering through the look he sent you. “She wouldn’t have to have one of you help her if that were the case,” Jake shrugs, a smile quirking at his lips at his smug words. “It’s my job to take care of my girl,”

The boys as a collective being sent into a frenzy by his response. Sunoo and Jay rolling their eyes in disgust by his attempt to seem cool and collected knowing well enough how much of a sulk he tended to be majority of the time. You couldn’t help but laugh as he winked noting your look, Yunjin loudly gagging at the sight but bursting into a fit alongside you.

“___ be honest, does he treat you that well?” Heeseung interjects, looking for your voice in the matter after Jake seemed to drop such a well versed answer.

You hum, deciding whether or not to play along in Jake’s ploy. “So far,” You tease while he merely rolls his eyes in a playful manner. “I can’t say in this particular topic since it hasn’t happened but he does ensure I’m always first when it comes to small acts,” You add on truthfully, thinking back to the amount of times over the past weeks that Jake has seemed to go above and beyond in ensuring you were comfortable and always ate before him.

It was hard to get used to at first, independent thus far and having his help was completely different. But you grew accustomed to it, figuring it was just the way he was raised which earned more brownie points than you’d like to admit. The first time he tied your shoe in a parking lot, your foot perched on his brand new jeans without a care, in particular being the main gesture that caused your heart to flutter even for a split second.

“Ah what a good boyfriend~” Ni-ki cooed, patting Jake’s arm while Sunoo lets out a small snicker. Leaning over to catch your eyes, he added his next words on with a mischievous smirk. “Let me know if he slips up noona, I’ll help you with the perilla leaf instead,”

Your eyes widen at Ni-ki’s words, knowing fully well he was joking and only intended to get under Jake’s skin but it caught you by surprise. Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon burst into a fit of laughter at sight while Yunjin, Jungwon, and Sunoo seemed to mirror your expression.

“Yah!” Jake, in a momentary daze, snaps out of his dumbfounded expression and attempts to lean over to hit Ni-ki upside the head but the younger boy moves. “You’re such a brat, annoying me all day and now this?” Tapping your legs to get off of him, you oblige to the silent command as he stands. Ni-ki was quick to leap away, already running around the row of chairs as Jake followed after him. “Don’t run away now after talking all that shit!”

“Now now, play nice kids,” Yunjin calls out, her laughter mixing in with the rest. “Just don’t fall into the lake or trip over a rock, alright?”

“I was kidding!” Ni-ki yells, voice distant as Jake continued to chase him down the dirt road, the dim lighting from the fire being the only lighting around opposed to the few lights further down from another group. “N-no, no it was a joke! I’m sorry!”

There was a loud scream that came from Ni-ki, one that echoed through the air and mixed in with his laughter before their footsteps made their way back to the group. As the two came back into light, Jake moves his chair as close as possible to yours before plopping himself down while Ni-ki trails behind, rubbing his shoulder though his amused expression never faltered.

“Next question?” The youngest boy asks, breaking the air causing Jay to let out a small snort, the conversation topic now moving on with ease.

Silently, Jake pats his legs. Draping yours over his lap once more, you shift to get comfortable, his hands finding way to your shins once again and giving it a slight squeeze. A small smile plays at your lips, sending him an air kiss to rid of the small pout he wore, one that caused Jake’s expression to melt into a grin in an instant.

“Oh! I got one!” Sunghoon suddenly claps his hands, the loud snap gaining everyone’s attention at his bright eyed expression. Looking around, he pauses for dramatic effect only to get a series of heated exchanges upon his next few words.

“Thoughts on pineapple on pizza?”

my tags!! @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whowantshota @addictedtohobi @coolwitu @simjyunnie @kgneptun @graythecoffeebean @143ikeu @zyvlxqht @tesywesy @nxzz-skz @aishisgrey @missmischief1408 @enczen @vanvity @dreamiestay @caitysdelusions @ikkeumyluv @mysticalenchantresss @v3lv3tsin

( pls make sure your settings make you applicable to tag )

#enhypen #enhypen jake #jaeyun x reader #jake sim #sim jaeyun #enha x reader #jaeyun smut #jake x reader #enha #enhypen jake smut #jake enhypen

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simplyraeblue · 19 days

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misery loves company (denki kaminari x reader)

ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP !femreader he was only supposed to get your number. you were supposed to stop rushing into things. but when there's undeniable sparks, neither of you kept to your word. WARNINGS/TAGS: fluff, swearing, fem reader word count: 2,680 A/N: this can be read as a one-shot, but I plan on starting another MHA mini-series, this time starring Denki! this can be read as a one shot as well, and eventually there with be an MDNI. idk, I feel like he doesn't get as much love, and I adore the man. there will be eventual smut, but I love cutesy Denki fics. (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this WIP I will happily start one! ♡︎

part one | part two

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this was quite possibly the worst night of his life. literally, he might die. Denki Kaminari was no stranger to getting his advances shot down but getting ghosted? whole new ball game.

so, for tonight he’d drown his sorrows with booze and his friends.

Kirishima, with quiet efficiency, slid another beer towards him. Kaminari grabbed it with a swift motion, lifting it to his lips and chugging it for perhaps a bit too long. “whoa, man, slow down,” Kirishima advised gently, placing a steadying hand on Kaminari’s shoulder.

“not a chance,” Kaminari shot back, tipping the bottle back again with determination.

“let him get plastered,” Bakugo muttered from his stool at the bar, a scowl on his face. “the idiot’s going to be a blubbering mess by the end of the night.”

“yeah, I’m not dealing with that,” Sero chimed in, crossing his arms in an x. “last time you puked on my brand-new carpet.”

Kaminari pouted, resting his head in his hand. “aw, come on. I’ll just get you a new one,” he said, though his voice carried a hint of defeat. he hadn’t planned on getting so drunk tonight, but he definitely needed something to numb the pain. the number of couples surrounding his group didn’t help matters.

Kirishima clapped his hands on Kaminari’s shoulders with enthusiasm. “maybe you should get back out there and start playing the field! one girl shouldn’t get you down.” he suggested, his face alight with a wide, encouraging smile.

Sero, grinning and holding up his drink, joined in. “yeah, we can make it a little game! like maybe if you get a girl’s number, we’ll buy you a drink.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes. “I’m not paying for anything. he barely knew her for a week,” he grumbled, his tone making it clear he was less than enthusiastic about the idea.

Kaminari appreciated his friends' support, but he wasn’t sure he had the courage to try. his heart was still too raw, and he didn’t think he could handle rejection right now.

“how about… trying with that girl over there?” Sero suggested, pointing across the room. “to the left a little bit – yeah, right there.”

Kaminari turned to follow Sero’s outstretched finger and saw you. you were seated with a group of friends, laughing and enjoying your drink. the sight of you made his breath catch. you wore skin-tight jeans and a crop top that left little to the imagination. as if that wasn’t enough to make him nervous, the way you tipped your head back and laughed made his heart race.

“no way, she’d shoot me down in a heartbeat,” Kaminari pouted as he looked at you, feeling a pang of self-doubt. you were far too attractive for him, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d reject him instantly.

“if you’re too chicken, I’ll give it a shot first,” Bakugo said with a smirk, clearly enjoying the challenge. Kaminari could see through Bakugo’s strategy—it was a classic move, and it was working.

before Bakugo could even push himself off his stool—his intention clear as he started to rise—Kaminari abruptly stood up and shot him a sharp, determined look. “I’m going,” he declared, his voice resolute. his friends erupted in cheers, their support ringing in his ears as he steeled himself and began to head towards your table.

just as you were a breath away from him, you stood from your chair unaware of his approach.

you told your friends you were heading to the bar for another drink. as you turned to navigate through the crowd, you collided with someone. “oh, jesus, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, catching yourself on their arm as you stumbled from the impact.

Kaminari’s hand instinctively gripped your upper arm to steady you, and as you looked up, your eyes met his. up close, you were even more striking than he’d anticipated. your gaze was intense, making his heart skip a beat and sending his thoughts into a whirl.

he struggled to find the right words but managed to ask, “don’t worry about it. were you heading to the bar?”

you nodded, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks as you assessed him. he didn’t seem like a creep—actually, he was quite cute and appeared genuinely friendly. not a bad start, you thought.

even though you had hesitated to come out with your friends, frustrated from yet another man ghosting you, you were suddenly very grateful they dragged you out. you always let your feelings cloud your judgement and lead you into a man’s bed – not that you were complaining – and your relationship didn’t go beyond physical. no dates, no call back, nada.

“let me buy you a drink. I’m Denki Kaminari,” he said, extending his hand towards you. you took it, noting the friendly gesture of a handshake, which was a refreshing change.

“only if it’s a really good drink,” you replied with a smile, “I’m y/n l/n.”

Kaminari grinned back and led you to the bar. as you walked, he glanced at his friends, who were giving him thumbs up and nods of approval, except for Bakugo, who watched silently with a raised eyebrow. Kaminari pondered his next move—buy you a drink, use a pickup line, and hopefully get your number? the pickup line seemed like a good idea.

once at the bar, Kaminari addressed the bartender. “I’ll have a refill on the Kaminari tab and whatever this pretty lady wants.”

you raised an eyebrow at the pretty lady comment but couldn’t help smirking. “I’ll have the same as he’s having.”

“what if you don’t like it?” Kaminari asked with a playful glint in his eye.

“meh, alcohol is alcohol,” you shrugged. as you were about to continue, you noticed three men behind Kaminari grinning and openly staring at the two of you. “um, are those gawking guys over there friends of yours?”

Kaminari whipped around, his glare cutting through the group. as soon as the men realized they’d been caught, they shuffled around, trying to look busy. Kirishima, however, made the scene even more comical by nearly toppling off his stool in the rush to appear occupied.

you couldn’t help but laugh as Kaminari sighed. “yeah, those three dumbasses are my friends.”

“they seemed pretty interested in us,” you teased, your eyes following the scene as the black-haired guy helped the redhead back onto his feet, both of them sporting bright red faces from their earlier stumble.

Kaminari scratched the back of his neck, a gesture that betrayed his unease. he worried that his friends had made things awkward or that you might find one of them more appealing—he suspected Kirishima might be the more attractive one in your eyes.

“well, actually—” Kaminari began, fumbling a bit, “—they were watching to see if I’d get your number. they’re trying to cheer me up.”

you turned your gaze from the boys back to Kaminari, noting the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. it must have taken some balls to admit that to you. you decided to offer the most sincere support you could: honesty. “if it makes you feel any better, my friends dragged me out tonight to cheer me up, too.”

Kaminari’s eyes met yours, and you saw a flicker of hope in them. as the bartender set your drinks down and moved on to the next customer, you grabbed your bottle while Kaminari took hold of his. he raised his bottle in the air with a hopeful smile. “misery does love company, doesn’t it?” he said, offering a toast.

“I’ll cheers to that,” you replied with a smirk, clinking your bottle against his. as you took a sip, you tried desperately to not make a face at the taste, not wanting to bruise his ego but the beer tasted like actual piss.

Kaminari noticed your sour expression and grimaced. “don’t like it, huh? it is kind of a cheap beer,” he said with a regretful chuckle.

“no, no, it’s fine,” you insisted, trying to downplay your reaction. but as you took another drink, your attempt to mask your distaste failed, and you ended up coughing uncontrollably. Kaminari’s hand immediately flew to your back, patting it gently to help you recover.

“oh god, I’m so sorry,” he said, his face reddening with embarrassment. it seemed like every attempt he made to salvage the situation only made things worse.

as your coughing subsided, you managed a laugh. “Kaminari, it’s okay. really. just… an unexpected flavor is all.”

“shit,” Kaminari muttered under his breath, clearly frustrated. his gaze shifted away from you, and you followed it to see the blonde guy from his group striding over.

“oi, dumbass! are you trying to choke her with your cheap beer?” Bakugo called out, his tone light but clearly annoyed. a moment ago, Kirishima and Sero had begun a heated debate over who should intervene, but Bakugo decided to take matters into his own hands, clearly eager to see Kaminari squirm.

“Bakugo, chill—” Kaminari began to protest.

“ah, you must be the asshole of the group,” you interjected, pointing at Bakugo. he turned to gape at you, clearly taken aback by your boldness. Kaminari’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in surprise as he realized you were standing up to Bakugo.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” Bakugo demanded, his eyebrows knitting together.

“well, every group has its types,” you explained with a confident grin. “you—” you gestured towards Bakugo, “—are the asshole. I’m guessing the redhead is the gym bro, and the black-haired guy is the quiet one.”

as if on cue, Kirishima and Sero waved at you from their seats, a slight smile on their faces.

“and what do you think this idiot is?” Bakugo asked, his hand firmly landing on Kaminari’s shoulder. you noticed how Kaminari stiffened under Bakugo’s touch, as if silently pleading you not to answer.

you took a moment to think before responding. “I’d say he’s the good-looking one.” you weren’t exactly lying, but you had a feeling your choice of words was going to get under Bakugo’s skin.

the effect was immediate: Bakugo’s cheeks flushed a deep red, while Kaminari’s face lit up with a pleased grin. Bakugo, flustered and without a retort, merely scoffed and turned on his heel, heading back to his friends. Kaminari, still grinning, let out an appreciative whistle next to you.

“it’s really rare to see someone stand up to him like that,” Kaminari remarked, his gaze lingering on Kirishima and Sero, who were laughing heartily at Bakugo’s expense.

you turned to him with a mischievous smile. “so, they’re waiting to see if you can get my number, right?” Kaminari nodded, his expression a mix of hope and curiosity. “well, what if you could offer them something even better?”

“b-better?” Kaminari stuttered, his mind racing in a thousand different directions as he tried to understand what you meant. among those thoughts was a particularly inappropriate one that he quickly shut down.

“mhm,” you murmured, moving closer to him until you were standing face-to-face. “what were they planning to do if you got my number?”

“buy me a drink,” Kaminari replied, a hint of confusion in his voice.

“that’s it?” you laughed, shaking your head. “men. you’re not thinking big enough.” as you pondered how to make their reward even more enticing, Kaminari fidgeted nervously in front of you, his eyes wide with anticipation.

“Denki—” you said his name softly, causing him to catch his breath. “they might end up buying you a lot of beers tonight.”

before he could fully grasp what you were hinting at, you stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his. you hadn’t expected a quick kiss to feel this… electric. but when your lips touched his you felt a spark run through you, igniting every bone in your body with excitement.

Kaminari stood frozen for a moment; his eyes wide as he processed the unexpected kiss. the contact was brief but charged, leaving him tingling and slightly dazed. as you pulled away, you could see the realization dawning on his face.

“you… you really just—” Kaminari started, his voice a mix of surprise and delight. he fumbled for words, trying to catch his breath and process what had just happened.

you chuckled softly, enjoying the flustered look on his face. “yep, I did. and now, you might find tonight to be a lot more interesting than just a few drinks.”

Kaminari’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and he ran a hand through his hair, trying to compose himself. “so… does this mean I’m not just getting a number?”

“exactly,” you said with a teasing glint in your eye. “if they want to keep this party going, they might have to up their game.”

Kaminari’s eyes watched his friends as they pumped their fists in the air, clearly thrilled by the kiss they had just witnessed. his heart swelled with affection as he saw your amused reaction to their antics. in that moment, he thought you were truly amazing.

“they might not end up paying after all,” Kaminari said, glancing toward Bakugo, who still looked determined not to spend a dime. “Bakugo seemed pretty intent on not footing the bill.”

you tilted your head with a playful smile. “hmm… not even for two kisses?”

before he could respond, you reached up and gently cupped his face with your hands, pulling him down to meet your lips once more.

as your lips met his again, everything else fell away. forget the drinks, forget the stupid game his friends wanted him to play, he didn’t care anymore. Kaminari melted into the kiss, his hands instinctively rising to cradle your face. he savored the warmth and the electrifying sensation that surged through him.

this kiss was different—it wasn’t just a fleeting touch. the desire to deepen the connection surged through both of you. you felt a rush of passion as his hands settled on your cheeks, and you tightened your grip on the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. your bodies pressed together, the intensity of the kiss growing with every passing second.

“get a room!” someone shouted from behind you, and you and Kaminari broke apart, instinctively giving his friends a middle finger in unison.

the simultaneous gesture made you both burst into laughter. “do you think that was enough to get them to buy out the whole bar?” you asked between giggles.

“don’t know, don’t care anymore,” Kaminari replied, his hands lingering on your face. his thumb lightly traced your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine.

you blushed at the tender touch but managed to smirk. “forgotten all about your little game from that kiss?”

“I forgot about the game the moment you told me your name,” Kaminari said, his eyes locking onto yours with a look of sincerity. seeing your grin made his heart race with exhilaration.

“wanna get out of here?” you asked suddenly. realizing that your offer might echo your old habits, you quickly added, “we could go get ice cream?”

“ice cream sounds great,” Kaminari agreed, a wide smile spreading across his face.

let his friends’ minds wander and form their own assumptions, Kaminari thought. he was determined to get your number by the end of the night, because if he didn’t, he’d be driven mad trying to track you down in every bar afterward.

you swiftly gathered your things from the table and gave a brief explanation to your friends - who looked at you with puzzled expressions. returning to Kaminari, you grabbed his hand, feeling a thrill of excitement. as you headed towards the door, you glanced back at his friends and shot them a playful wink, followed by another cheeky middle finger.

each of their jaws dropped in surprise as Kaminari shrugged with a smug grin, clearly pleased with the turn of events. hand in hand, the two of you walked out of the bar, leaving behind a buzz of curiosity and speculation in the group of boys.

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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ taglist: ------- if you want to be added to the tag list for this WIP, comment below! if you'd like to be added to any of my tag lists send a request via the "ask me anything" on my page! ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Link to Bakugo x reader here (word count: 2,328) Link to Kirishima x reader here (word count: 902) Link to Shoto x reader here (word count: 1,800)

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