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fragilefable · 9 months

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nobody's son, nobody's daughter.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Rating: Mature (18+ minors DNI) Summary: When you and Joel get separated the night of the outbreak, you spend the next decade searching for him. Just when you've given up— a miracle occurs. Warnings: heavy angst, canon typical violence, character death (sarah), discussions of grief, very brief mention of suicidal ideation, alcohol used to cope, depression, suggestive language, lovers reunited, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Word Count: 6.6k Currently Playing: Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey ♪

A/N: This piece has been months in the making, hours of rereading and rewriting. This is my love child. I'm possibly (definitely) planning a part 2 with smut... ;) I am a full-time college student who unfortunately has other responsibilities, so please be patient with me. My first lengthy piece in a while, so please be kind & enjoy my doves!

Sleep was the most convenient temporary escape available in the post-cordyceps world. Oftentimes, if you were lucky enough, with sleep came dreams—glimpses of a divine, utopian life. One without spores or fungi of any kind. There was, however, always the chance that with it came nightmares—Polaroids of the past, the uprising of the infection. Mothers clutching bloodied children, decaying men ripping open flesh with their savage teeth, and, worst of all— losing Joel Miller.

Joel was... everything—neighbor, friend, lover. Joel hated that word— laughed every time it managed to escape your lips in a hushed whisper, but that was what you were to each other. It transcended explanation. You'd moved to Austin after college in hopes of starting over, a clean slate. Instead, you'd stumbled upon a single father and his then 11-year-old daughter. You fit into their life like the missing puzzle piece— you completed them. Sarah needed a motherly presence in her life. There was only so much Joel could do for the blossoming young woman.

And Joel— Joel never knew what he was missing until you came along. Someone to be able to rely on, to love unconditionally, a fixed constant. To say he fell head over heels was an understatement, but it became so much more than physical attraction. It became something far more profound and terrifying— love. The kind of love only poets write about. It was fierce, at times agonizing. That's what made losing him all the more heartbreaking.

You were with Sarah the night of the outbreak— Joel's birthday. Lounging around in plaid pajamas, waiting for Joel to get home from work. Despite being exhausted, Sarah was beaming with pride over her birthday present for her dad— his broken wristwatch now repaired and refurbished. You smiled mischievously, "And just where did you get the money to fix this, young lady?" Sarah grinned slyly, "Just lyin' around, it's not like he noticed it was missin'!" Hours passed, you and Sarah slumped against the couch: Fast asleep, soft snores escaping mouths, drool dribbling down chins.

The sight made Joel's heart quaver in his chest. Kicking off his muddied work boots, he carefully plopped down in between the two sleeping figures, planting a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. "Hmm. You're home," you stirred awake, drowsy eyes met with a welcome sight: Weathered tan skin and dark chocolate curls. "Hey, Darlin'. You outta head up to bed. I'll be up soon." You nodded faintly, planting a chaste kiss on Sarah's forehead: "Goodnight, sweet girl."

You fell fast asleep as soon as your body hit Joel's mattress, his scent engulfing you like a blanket of safety— a shield of sorts. The vague smell of sawdust and pine soap conquered your senses, a heavenly combination. An hour later, you felt the bed dip down, strong arms circling your waist.

Frantic hands shook you awake, calling your name weakly: "I can't find Dad. N' somethin' weird is goin' on outside." You sat up, Sarah's urgency pulling you from your hazy half-asleep state. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll call him. Go back to bed." Sarah ignored your suggestion and sat beside you as you reached for the landline. The call went to voicemail without hesitation: "Huh... That's weird."

Sarah grew more anxious by the second, "I'm gonna go check the driveway for his truck." Sarah shot up from the bed, feet pattering down the stairs. "Sarah! Wait, I'll come with-" Throwing on your Converse, you hastily ran out after her. Your tired eyes scanned the pavement but found no signs of Sarah or Joel's truck. The Adler's door was wide open; you huffed: "Sarah?"

The Adler's house was pitch black and eerily quiet, the family's dog nowhere to be seen: "Sarah? This is trespassing!" Tiptoeing through the living room, you halted at the sight of a ruby trail— blood. Grotesque, wet noises filled the previously silent house: "Sarah?" The teen bolted out of the kitchen, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the front door: "Run!" Mrs. Adler scrambled after Sarah, mouth dribbling crimson liquid, no longer bound to her wheelchair.

"What the fuck–" Sarah's grip on your hand tightened as you passed through the door and stumbled onto the pavement. A pair of familiar brown eyes scanned Sarah's figure and then yours: "Sarah? Darlin'? Are ya'll ok-" Joel's words were cut off when Mrs. Adler dashed through the front door, her figure lunging for you.

Joel struck the side of her head with a wrench as you made a feeble attempt to crawl away. His strikes were lethal, and yet the elder kept thrashing against the ground. "Joel, stop!" Only then did you notice Tommy, Joel's younger brother, behind you, coaxing Sarah into the truck.

Joel exhausted Mrs. Adler with one final swing, dropping the bloodied wrench beside him and wiping his shaky hands on his jeans. His gaze softened when he saw your timid frame— shaking and unmoving. "Darlin'... Baby, are you okay?" His hands found your shoulders, rubbing soothing circles on a patch of exposed skin. You hesitated; Joel had just killed Mrs. Adler in cold blood— but she tried to kill you and Sarah first.

Joel hurriedly hoisted you to your feet, "We gotta go, okay baby? It's not safe here." You clambered into the backseat beside Sarah, the girl's arms thrown around you tightly. Kissing the crown of her head, you reassured her: "It's okay, sweetheart, everything's okay."

Neighbors began to exit their homes, baffled and disturbed by the sight of Mrs. Adler's bloody, lifeless body lying in the yard. Someone called out for Joel. He immediately instructed her to go back inside and lock the doors. Tommy beckoned Joel into the car, exiting the culdesac and taking off towards the highway. After a fleeting moment, you mustered up the courage to ask, "Joel, what's going on?" Tommy replied, "They're sayin' it's a virus- some kinda parasite." Sarah spoke up, tears forming, "Are we sick?" Joel shot the idea down immediately.

Tommy and Joel continued bickering, your eyes glued to the road ahead: "Joel! Look- It's Jimmy's place." The two-story farmhouse was completely engulfed in flames, unrecognizable. Your hands clung to Sarah, burrowing her head into your neck: "It's okay, sweet girl." Police sirens rang out through the darkness, interrupted by soft pleas for help. A family was stranded on the side of the road, begging for aid. Tommy began to slow the car. "What're you doin'?" Joel firmly questioned. Tommy shot back, "Got a kid, Joel."

"So do we. Keep drivin'," Joel spat. Tommy sped back up, eyes searching Joel's for an explanation: "Somebody else will come along." As Tommy approached the interstate, the sounds of disgruntled drivers grew louder: "Fuck! Everybody had the same fuckin' idea. I can't get through this." Joel gripped the dashboard, "All right, all right. Let's think it through," he paused for a moment, "All right, take the field! We cut across, and we pick up on the west side." Tommy steered right, the truck jerking on the uneven terrain. As he drove over the hill, helicopters and tanks came into view, "Shit. Fuckin' army."

Sarah peered out from behind the seat, "Isn't that good?" Your voice was filled with hesitation, "That's the highway we need to get to." Joel and Tommy argued, eventually continuing toward a town just east of the highway. Sarah stilled, "Maybe it's everywhere. Maybe there's nowhere to go." A booming roar erupted, Tommy twisting his body to get a better look at the night sky: "What the fuck?!" Commercial airplanes flew overhead, merely hundreds of feet above the ground. You instinctively covered Sarah's ears with your hands, eyes wrenching shut at the deafening rumble of their engines. Tommy swerved to avoid a police blockade ahead, turning into a nearby alleyway.

The streets were flooded with screaming civilians, running in every direction— no one sure who exactly they were running from. A hoard of people fled from inside a movie theater, causing Tommy to shift the truck's gear into reverse. "Dad?" Sarah called out, "Dad!" Joel turned; an airplane was rapidly descending— heading straight towards town, "Shit. Move!" As the plane made contact with the ground, a mushroom cloud of fire and smoke bloomed, causing Tommy to lose control of the truck.

A strong hand shook your leg, "Darlin'? Stay right there, don't move." Your side ached, cool liquid flowing from your head. Beside you, Sarah quickly came to, her eyes shifting to the figure hunched outside of the flipped car, clawing at the corpse of an older man. "Sarah, baby, don't look. C'mere, put your arms around me." As Joel carefully unearthed Sarah from the mangled truck, you climbed out of the shattered window: Hissing as you shifted against your arm. Sarah tried to put weight on her leg, provoking muffled whimpers and cries at the attempt. Tommy, equipped with his shotgun, called out, "We gotta get off the street!"

As you approached Joel and Sarah, a flaming police car crashed into the capsized truck, separating the three of you from Tommy. Tommy roared from the other side of the wreck: "Meet at the river! I'll find a way." Joel turned to Sarah, "Can you run?" She shook her head wearily. He scooped her into his arms, "Keep your eyes on me." Joel shifted towards you, "No matter what, you keep runnin'. Alright, darlin'? Promise me." You hesitated, desperate eyes meeting his, "I promise."

The three of you stumbled through the alley until you came across a cluster of bodies scattered across the pavement, crouched figures grunting over the lifeless figures. The end of the passage was clear. The only problem was getting past the rotted creatures without being noticed. There was no way Joel could outrun them in his condition. One of the creatures shot up at the sound of a remote blast, eyes landing on Joel. His voice was firm, "Go." You grabbed his arm, "Joel!" He repeated his command, louder— frantic: "You can't carry Sarah w'that arm. Go find Tommy. We'll meet you there."

You pressed a hurried kiss to Sarah's head, the deranged man scrambling to his feet before you could embrace Joel. You took off towards the other end of the alley, Joel and Sarah barricading themselves inside the vacant diner across from the pile of carcasses. Your body throbbed with every step, head burning with the fire of a thousand suns. Your feet carried you across town, weaving in and out of injured civilians and infected until you reached the river. The stream was pitch black, sounds of gunfire and cries rang out in the distance.

Suddenly, a bright light blinded you: "Put your hands where I can see 'em!" You obeyed, raising them as high as your injured arm would allow. Your voice raw with distress, "M'not sick! Just trying to find my family!" The man stepped closer, seemingly inspecting your physical state. He was clad in military gear, "You hurt?" You shook your head eagerly: "Just a sprained arm." He nodded his head, "Alright. We've got buses that can take you to a decontamination zone."

Your head scanned the vast field, eyes scouring for any sign of Joel or Tommy: "I- I can't. I'm supposed to meet someone here. At the river." The soldier looked dissatisfied and slowly lifted his gun, "The river goes on for miles. S'not safe out here." Your eyebrows threaded together in confusion, "What- are you- are you gonna shoot me?" The soldier's grasp on his automatic rifle tightened, "I'm sayin' you have two choices. You can either come with me or you can-"

A guttural scream sounded from behind him. But before he could turn around, a pair of arms seized his neck and began ripping into his military garb. The soldier flailed wildly at his attacker. While he was busy fighting off the deranged beast, you took off into the darkness, wandering aimlessly and calling out for your family. That night was the last time you saw Joel Miller.

16 Years Later

The bitter winter air overwhelmed your senses until you were gasping for air, limbs numb and cold to the touch. You wouldn't make it much longer without shelter, without warmth. You'd spent the better part of the last 16 years searching for him— for Joel. Ever since that night, you'd scoured every independent civilization, every QZ, within mobs of infected. Each night, you silently prayed never to find him like that— skin pallid and overcome with fungus, head split wide open, cordyceps blooming from within.

You'd trekked across the country with the sole intent of finding him alive and healthy. The journey was brutal— raiders and infected desperate for blood. But by far, the hardest battle was pushing away the nagging thought that, even if Joel and Sarah were somehow alive, you'd never find them. Now, after nearly two decades of searching, you were reaching the end of your journey. You'd officially trekked across the entire nation. If your estimations were correct, you were nearing Wyoming— hence the formidable cold front.

You'd heard rumors about a small civilization located somewhere on the skirts of Jackson County— your last stop. You knew the chances were slim; that feeling only fortified with each city, each civilian who hadn't heard of or seen anyone by the name of "Joel Miller." But you kept searching— because the day that you stopped would be the day you lost everything, lost yourself. It was as though he held onto you with a leash. If you tugged hard enough, could you finally break free? What else did you have to live for? Maybe one day you'd have some sort of epiphany, something to make sense of all the death and suffering. For now, Joel kept your hope alive— the hope that there was happiness and safety beyond all of the pain. The very thought of him kept you alive.

You stood in front of thick and rusted iron gates, your posture crooked due to exhaustion— Just one more stop. The sounds of cocking guns drew your attention to the top of the gates. A young man and woman stand there, rifles pointed at you: "Drop your weapon! Let us see your hands!" You obey. This is standard practice amongst civilizations— you'd done it a thousand times by now. Unsheathing and kicking away your pistol, you then throw your backpack towards the gate. Hands raised next to your head. Your voice wavers as you half-shout, "I'm not infected! Just looking for someone!"

The woman searched your face for a bit, presumably looking for any signs of deceit. She nodded towards her companion, the corroded metal walls unfolding. Two men approached you and picked up your discarded belongings. The younger of the two roughly patted you down and checked for bite marks. When they were satisfied, they led you past the gates into the town square. The village was pleasant, a handful of people milling about in the slushy streets.

A familiar voice erupts from behind you: "Please excuse the initial hostility. We need to be careful about who we let in... I'm Maria." She extends her hand. You accept it gingerly and introduce yourself. "Welcome to Jackson. You must be freezing. Come on, we'll talk inside." — Maria leads you inside a small building, the exterior reminding you of the Lincoln Logs you used to play with as a child. The inside is... quaint. A lone desk sits near the lit fireplace. Maria leans against the desk and motions for you to take a seat: "So... You're lookin' for someone. And you have reason to believe they're here?"

You sigh, allowing your aching body to relax against the couch's plush cushions: "No... I am looking for someone, but... Well, this is my last stop." Maria nods sympathetically, tucking a lone braid behind her ear— "I get it. You've been looking for a long time. It's about time to stop. To rest." You can't help the tears that form on your waterline. Your gaze shifts to your lap. Maria continues, "Who are you lookin' for?"

You swallow the fist-sized lump in your throat, "Joel. Joel Miller." Your attention snaps towards her as a wistful sigh escapes her lips. A tight frown dawns on Maria's face, "I'm sorry. There's no Joel Miller here." You nod; you knew it was a long shot, but hearing it aloud was something different entirely. You rise from the couch, "Thank you. I apologize for takin' up your time." Maria speaks up before you can reach the door: "Now what? You got a place to stay?"

You honestly hadn't thought that far, about life beyond looking. For years, finding Joel was your only purpose— your rationale for remaining on this infested hellscape. You had no home, no roots. Maria's voice interrupts your thoughts, "There's room here. We've got food and water— shelter. Hell, we're even working on electricity." You turn to face her. Her words dripping with verity, "Jackson could be your home."

Despite having just met her, Maria's words touched something buried deep within you— hope. Hopeful of a new life, of new beginnings. You forged a small smile, "Okay." Maria smiled, but it was much different from yours: It was toothy, genuine— "Alright. I'll give you the grand tour then." For the next hour or so, Maria marched you around town. She showed you the vast dining hall laden with maple furniture. The stables filled with mare and their young.

Then she showed you the schoolhouse. It was a small brick building. The walls were filled with colorful crayon drawings. Tiny handprints were pressed onto the wall in various colors of acrylic paint. The dulcet sounds of innocent laughter erupted from every corner of the room. Children from the ages of 5-12 were scattered around: Some doing arts and crafts, some reading, and others playing with worn toys. A tear slipped down your cheek. You brushed it away quickly before Maria could notice.

You couldn't help but think of Sarah. About the first time she knocked on your door— she was selling chocolate bars for some fundraiser at school. Her bronze complexion dappled with freckles, and her wide smile revealed a missing tooth. She was eleven at the time, eyes bright and full of wonder. Blind to the atrocities that loomed at every turn. Sometimes, you'd think about what she looked like now— did her curls still rest atop her shoulders? Did she still laugh until she was panting for air? She's thirty now... Has she fallen in love? That was considering she is still...

You didn't entertain the thought. Sarah was fine, alive somewhere with her father to look after her. Maria's touch pulls you from your thoughts, "How about I show you where you'll be living? Get you settled in." As Maria exited the schoolhouse, you stole one last glance at the room. A little girl met your gaze. Her dark curls were pulled into two ponytails. Her burnt mahogany eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled, raising her tiny hand and waving it at you. You returned the sentiment, this time allowing the tear to fall down and onto the ground.

Maria escorted you just outside of town, to a street lined with country-style two-story houses in relatively good condition. "This one here, the green one. It's already furnished. I'll have one of my guys come by later with some essentials from the pantry. Otherwise, you should be all set 'til tomorrow." Your eyes bore into the house. It was nice, but also... "It's big," you retort, "Don't know what I could possibly need all those rooms for." Maria lays the silver key in your hand, "You never know."

You internally cringe at the connotation. Start over with some man? Have a big family and a white picket fence? You couldn't. It wouldn't be the same. You let out a shaky breath, "Thank you, Maria." She nods, "Come see me tomorrow, and we'll talk about where to go from here. Everyone in Jackson has a job, a role to play. Rest up... You deserve it." She departs, leaving just you and your great, big, empty house.

3 Years Later

Jackson developed rapidly under Maria's supervision. The population rose from 50 to roughly 300 in just under three years. Jackson now had electricity, thanks to the Jackson County Hydroelectric Dam that Maria's team was able to get up and running. You'd become the head of patrol— in charge of organizing the schedules and determining the routes. You and Maria had become very close, practically family. She's the person who understood you, what you've been through.

In an attempt to busy yourself and earn your keep, you'd thrown yourself into working alongside her. Not just with patrols but also with community relations and development. You'd completely reconstructed the greenhouse, built a jailhouse— that, luckily, wasn't used much— and helped fortify Jackson's defenses. Maria assigned you the title "community leader," but you much preferred what everyone else called you: "Maria's right hand."

Your house was still too big, but now it felt homier— lived in. The walls were plastered with botanical paintings you'd found while out on patrol, vases of fresh cut flowers from the community garden placed upon every surface. Cable knit blankets were draped over the shabby leather furniture, the brick fireplace emanating warmth and bringing solace during the cold winter months. You'd even taken up baking in your spare time, frequently bringing baked goods to the schoolhouse.

Nevertheless, when the sun set and the sounds of bustling downtown Jackson faded, your thoughts always returned to Joel. His bronze skin, tousled brown curls, and perfectly plump lips. Suddenly, it felt as though the house was mocking you, and the right side of the bed always grew colder. Perhaps it's why you worked yourself so hard; taking a day off was seldom. You couldn't escape the persistent feeling that Joel and Sarah weren't alive. That you'd failed to find them time and time again because somewhere, they were six feet under, buried in an unmarked grave. All it takes is one moment— one lapse between heartbeats— and suddenly, everything has changed.

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The spring air was crisp with morning dew. A gentle breeze slipped through the cracked bay window. Three heavy thuds woke you— the sharp knocks cutting through serene silence. Your voice was raspy with sleep, "Coming!" You quickly pulled on the worn terrycloth robe that hung from the bedpost and stumbled downstairs. You swung the door open to reveal Stanley, a young man who worked in construction: "I'm so sorry to wake you, but Maria sent me to get you. She said it's urgent."

You sighed deeply, rubbing the remaining exhaustion from your face: "Urgent like, 'don't get dressed' urgent?" Stanley's eyes roamed across the dark fabric of your robe before snapping back to your face. His cheeks bright pink, "Oh, um... no! Just meet her in her office ASAP." Sending him off with a nod, you traipsed upstairs and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before making your way downtown. It was early morning, the streets empty save the early risers milling about, getting ready for work. As you passed a group of older women sipping hot beverages, you overheard whispers of "an outsider." As Maria's righthand, you were expected to greet all incoming arrivals. How on earth that could constitute a crisis, you did not know.

As you approached Maria's office, the woman in question exited swiftly, shutting the door behind her. You grew closer, taking note of her fidgeting hands. She was... nervous? "Good morning, Mar. What's the emergency?" Maria's face was sullen. You'd never seen her like this, not in the three years you'd known her. Your hands clenched at your sides, "Maria? What is it?"

She took a deep breath, "This may be a false alarm, but... This guy's last name is Miller. Says he's originally from Texas." Her words stole the air from your lungs, a pit forming in the bottom of your stomach. She said something else, but all you could hear was buzzing. Your vision blurred, the dark-skinned woman's features coming in and out of focus. Could it be him—had Joel finally found you?

Maria called your name, pulling you from your trance. As your vision focused, you pushed past her. Your grip on the doorknob was bone-crushing, your knuckles turning white from the tension. You inhaled— don't get your hopes up. It might not be him. You exhaled, pushing the door open with a startling amount of force. You analyzed the man's figure, you recognized him— only it wasn't Joel. It wasn't the Miller whose calloused hands once traveled the expanse of your body, making note of each hidden crevice as though it may hold treasure. Whose lips once seared white hot kisses in the places he knew were the most sensitive— "Tommy?"

He looked dumbstruck, his lips parted in shock. Before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck. It took him a moment to reciprocate your embrace, but once he did, his arms anchored you in place. He spoke your name quietly against the crown of your head: "I can't... I can't believe it." You pulled away, "I hardly can either." His hands rested atop your shoulders as his eyes searched your face in disbelief. His resemblance to his older brother felt like a gut punch. You were afraid to ask— fearful of the truth: "Joel? Is he..."

Tommy's hand squeezed your shoulder in reassurance, "He's alive. Last I checked, holed up somewhere in the Boston QZ." A warm tear slipped down your face, the salty liquid resting just below your chin. You'd checked Boston QZ, but recent "terrorist" attacks had made it impossible to stay longer than an hour without drawing the attention of every FEDRA soldier in that godforsaken city. Your hands trembled as you clutched your chest, "And Sarah? How's my sweet girl?"

Tommy's face went cold— No. No. She can't— "She's gone." The taste of bile rose in your throat, "Wh-when?" Tommy removed his hands from your shoulders, "That night. Shot by some military fucker. She..." He hesitated, "Joel held her. It happened s'fast." Your kneels buckled, threatening to send you towards the ground. You fucked up— you let yourself get accustomed to the idea of her being alive. Repeated it over and over again until you believed it to be true. This was all your fault.

Your shoulders shook silently, as if you were crying— but no tears emerged, "I have to… I have to find Joel." Turning toward the door, Tommy caught you by your wrist: "I can't let you do that, hon. It's a damn death sentence." You tugged at your arm, desperate to break free from the restraint: "Let go of me, Tommy. I'm doin' this." Maria stepped forward, her hand resting at the base of your neck— "No, you're not. Jackson needs you here. I need you here."

Your breathing became labored. Deep down, you knew they were right— you were in no shape to travel across the country again. You'd barely survived it the first time. Chest heaving, your free hand found purchase on your throat, tightly grasping and constricting the airway. Tommy wearily let go of your wrist, his eyes wide and filled with fear. You ran for the door; you could hear Tommy call out for you as you fled homeward. Sarah was gone. Joel was alone.

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Days passed, and despite everything, the sun rose in the morning and the moon at night. You weren't quite sure how long it had been. You'd stopped counting daybreak after the first five came and went. Maria checked in after the first couple of days, worried that you hadn't been seen around town— or leaving your house, for that matter. Your grief was debilitating, all-consuming. You couldn't eat, could barely sleep, only finding relief at the bottom of a liquor bottle. You were tired… The kind of tired that sleep didn't fix.

Tommy came once. Sat and talked while you stared straight ahead at the empty wall. He could sense your anger, your resentment. How could he not? You silently judged him for leaving Joel, leaving his brother after his only daughter died in his arms. Tommy told you that Joel had changed. He wasn't the Joel you fell in love with; he'd done terrible things— But so had you. You'd killed innocent people, people who were just trying to protect themselves. And you did it in the name of finding Joel and Sarah, of surviving for them. You'd convinced yourself it was kill or be killed, and you had to live with that. Come judgment day, you'd pay greatly for your sins. You accepted that, too.

You only dared to look at Tommy's face once. You saw Joel in his eyes— you saw Sarah. Maybe if you hadn't left Joel in that alleyway, she'd still be alive. You could've protected her, taken the bullet for her. You would have, without hesitation. You'd cross the fiery pits of hell for her, reside in Caina, and be tortured for eternity. You may not have given birth to her, but Sarah was your daughter.

If you closed your eyes hard enough, you could faintly picture her smile. The dimples that formed just below her bottom lip. You could smell the faint aroma of her strawberry shampoo. Hear the broken remnants of her grandiose laughter. You swore to keep those memories someplace safe. Take them out and remember when you needed to, as if they were photographs.

A part of you wanted to be happy that she didn't suffer. She was too innocent for this new, heartless world. She was everything good in life. She was sunshine, sugary syrup, and pure, unadulterated love. But you could not accept this bright side. Not when it meant a life without her in it. Innocence is beautiful, but life is for living.

Tommy stood up, slipping a piece of paper on the nightstand. You cautiously turned it over to reveal a creased photo: You, Joel, and Sarah posing after winning one of her soccer games. You stole one last glance at Tommy. This time, he did not see blinding hatred in your gaze. Instead, he saw gratitude. As your glassy eyes bore into him, he nodded knowingly and left.

Maria came a couple of hours later with leftovers from the dining hall. Setting them on the counter next to the empty whiskey bottles displayed like pathetic trophies. You were in the same position as when Tommy left. You held the photo in your hands, thumbs stroking its frayed edges. Maria quietly dragged a chair closer to the bed, sitting just within arm's reach: "I went to a really dark place after I lost Kevin."

Tearing your gaze from the picture, one of her hands finds yours: "He made life worth living… It took me a long time to start to feel human again. To feel something other than pain and sorrow. The grief never goes away. But slowly, it starts to feel less like loss, and more like love." She inhaled shakily, "I know what you're feeling right now. I know why you're drowning your sorrows in that shit, trying to drink yourself to death." A tear slips down your face, her hand squeezing yours gently: "But you have to understand… What you're feeling right now, that's love. You're not a bad person for how you try to kill your sadness. But it's not gonna work."

You're unable to contain the choked sob that escapes your throat. The tears come harshly, scorching saline against your skin. Maria shifts her weight from the chair onto the bed, holding your shaking frame: "It's okay… Let it out." Her hands cradle your head, smoothing over your disheveled hair. "It's all my fault," you gasp between sobs, "I never should've left them. It's all my fault." Maria shushes you, "No, honey. You don't really believe that. You want someone to blame, but you're not that person."

Eventually, the tears cease. Your breathing evened out as Maria held you, "I miss Joel, so fucking much." You could feel Maria nod tenderly, "I know Honey." A lone tear slipped down your cheek, "Do you think— do you think he'll find me?" Maria pulled away, her chestnut eyes meeting yours, "Truthfully, I don't know." With a deep sigh, she squeezed your hand— "But I know he wouldn't want you to live like this. Isolating yourself from everyone else. You're allowed to grieve, but please don't shut me out. You're my person." You clutch her hands, squeezing firmly: "Even at my worst?" Her arms curled around your torso once again, "Even at your worst."

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The warmer seasons passed with haste. A wintertide blanket of white gradually covered Jackson. Day by day, Maria and Tommy were able to pull you out of your depressive stupor. You had to admit, they made quite the team. Maria was ultimately right, Joel wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life a bedridden drunkard. But still, life without him was arduous. There wasn't a day that passed that you didn't think of Joel Miller. About where he was, what he was doing, who he was with, and whether he missed you as terribly as you did him.

As much as you wished to focus on these melancholic thoughts, new developments began to bloom in Jackson. Tommy and Maria's blossoming love was hard to ignore and impossible to disapprove of. Watching two people whom you adored fall in love, it felt as though nothing had changed: No cordyceps, no raiders, just Jackson and all of its inhabitants. Perhaps you could find peace in that. When Maria told you that they were expecting, you were over the moon. Maria and Tommy deserved it, Jackson deserved it. Proof that the world is not over— that no matter the circumstances, mankind will prevail.

You threw together a small wedding ceremony with the help of the florist and local bakery, the couple wanting to tie the knot before the baby's arrival. Joking about how "shotgun weddings" withstood the test of time. Something arose in you, a pang of jealousy— Envious that you and Joel never got the perfect white wedding. It disgusted you, so you buried it deep within the recesses of your heart.

The winter was hard, the Wyoming chill threatening every crop that dared to sprout from the Earth. This resulted in you spending extra time in the greenhouse. You found gardening to be a rather soothing task, being able to nurture new life in a world marked by death and decay. It also provided plenty of time to think: Something that you did not relish. No matter how many times you pushed the thought of Joel away, it always returned. Whether it was at dawn or late at night plaguing your dreams.

When you weren't at Tommy and Maria's house or at the Tipsy Bison, you were in the greenhouse. The small shack sat right on the outskirts of town, situated with the perfect view of downtown Jackson. The glass panes shut out the cold, trapping any warmth inside. You bathed in the basking glow of the sun, gravitating towards it as a Sunflower would. You weren't sure when thoughts of Sarah became joyous, memories no longer met with choked cries but instead with soft chuckles. Nonetheless, you welcomed the growth. It's how she would want you to remember her.

You watched the clock that hung just above the door, a mere estimation of the time: 12:15 p.m. You carefully removed your dirt-caked gloves, setting them on the wooden bench beside you. Your stomach growled impatiently as you began the journey downtown. The air was frigid despite the sun's rays, the cold slowly numbing your fingers. As you ambled towards town, Stanley came jogging towards you: "Hey! Just got word from the gates that Maria's back. Brought some stragglers, two, I think."

You nodded in his direction, "Alright. Thanks, Stan." The soft crunch of snow beneath your feet accompanied you as you approached downtown Jackson, an air of excitement and uncertainty radiating off of the townsfolk. It wasn't every day that Jackson came across people who weren't just blood-thirsty raiders looking for valuables. As you rounded a corner, you overheard a commotion, the sound of yelling. Strangely, it didn't sound angry or fearful. It sounded... happy.

Midtown came into view; the construction that was being worked on was now abandoned. Immediately, your gaze fixed on two figures in the middle of the street embracing. That was... not typical. You could make one man out to be Tommy; his black curls contrasted starkly against his warm taupe skin. The other was taller and broader, his hair disheveled and graying. Behind them you could make out Maria on horseback, next to her was a young girl, who couldn't be older than thirteen.

Maria's expression was borderline unreadable, a mixture of trepidation and relief. Until her eyes met yours, then her face softened. A look of tenderness emerged. Everything about this situation puzzled you— Until the two figures broke apart. The man stood inches from Tommy, his hands gripping Tommy's shoulders firmly. His face was sunken with exhaustion and hunger; a vast smile overtook his face. A smile you would recognize anywhere.

He looked just as he had twenty years ago, only now his hair was significantly longer and his beard gray. His face was now littered with wrinkles, just as yours was. A telltale sign that time had, in fact, passed, that the world fell apart right in front of your eyes. Your fingers dug into your thigh. You surely would've drawn blood if not for the layer of denim protecting your skin. You knew you were grieving, but hallucinations seemed extreme. You took a hesitant step forward, still on the opposite end of the street.

Maria beckoned for you. Your name seemingly catching Tommy's attention as he turned towards you. As the men stood side-by-side, it was impossible to deny. Their likeness evoked something in you— realization. You weren't dreaming, you weren't hallucinating. He was there, just a yard away: Joel Miller. His gaze found yours, eyes searching your face in disbelief. Your name left his mouth like a question, but it sounded like a prayer.

He stepped forward as if he was testing the waters. You repeated his action, "Joel?" A smile broke across his face once again, causing you to break into a sprint. He jogged forward, careful not to slip on the icy gravel. Tears began streaming down your face, their warmth countering the icy chill. Before you could slow down, your body collided with his. His arms were tense, his hold fastening around you. You'd only dreamt of this moment for two decades.

You weren't sure how long you stood like that. Head nestled firmly against his chest, tears staining his leather coat. His gloved fingers gently grasped your chin, pulling your face from its sanctuary: "Baby... Fuck, I can't believe it." His eyes searched your face for any sign of unease. He could find nothing but pure joy: "You found me. I searched for you, Joel Miller, for 16 years. And you found me."

Joel let out a breathy chuckle, cut off as you captured his lips in a velvety kiss. At first, it was chaste.— A silent admission of consolation, twenty years in the making. You ran your tongue across his bottom lip, prompting him to groan as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. After a moment, a loud cough erupted from behind you. You reluctantly pull away, your forehead resting against his. Your hands cupped his cheeks, eyes glassy with relief and adoration: "After all this time?" Joel leans forward to place a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth, "Would wait forever f'you, Darlin'."

divider by @saradika

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #fragilefable #ೃ༄ wren writes

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canichangemyblogname · 2 months

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Actually, no. The shippers in the 911 fandom who primarily complain about Tommy and his past don't actually care about Tommy's past or his actions that contributed to the previous toxic workplace environment and harassment at the 118. Not everything is about a fucking ship, believe it or not, yet the only time they bring up his behavior is in relation to shipping. And because the only time they bring up a valid critique of Tommy's character is during shipping "discourse," I'm convinced it's not brought forth in good faith. Finding a way to tie everything to a ship—especially things like racism and misogyny—is cheap and tasteless. Not everything is about "shipping;" shut up about the shipping.

I don't think they actually want to discuss how white queers contribute to the marginalization of others, including other queer people, by weaponizing the patriarchy and/or white supremacy in their favor because so many of them are fellow white queers themselves. They don't care about how Tommy inadvertently, because of his past, provides a realistic portrayal of how white queers divide or hurt the larger community because of an inability to find solidarity with people of a different background, culture, or race (especially if it would "inconvenience" them or if it does not directly benefit them, like Chim saving Tommy's life). White people would rather choose misery and isolation over standing with or up for non-white people. White people are generally not willing to put in the work to build community; they'd rather contribute to the system or fly under the radar to avoid being shunned by the structures they, and the Ol' Boys Club, benefit from, like white supremacy or the patriarchy. Most white queers would rather be complaisant, complacent, and complicit. It's the white queer's adherence to oppressive systems that divide the community, not people's calls to tear those systems down. And it's only the white queer who can change their perspective on this.

Tommy only has himself to blame for his jealousy and alienation from a supportive and familial community, and only he can take the steps to ameliorate the situation. Tommy was an absolute fucking dick to Chim and Hen, and that has had long-term consequences on his life. Only he can correct for his behavior. He contributed to a toxic work environment, referring to Chim as a Chinese takeout delivery man, actively participating in Chim's hazing, and telling Chim that he did not like the man (mostly because he didn't know him). He would later call Hen "bitchy," and the men of the 118 would leave the "domestic work" to her as they did Chim, actively contributing to her hazing. He did not (verbally) stand up for her, iced her out, and also contributed to a homophobic work culture that made same-sex attraction the butt of jokes. He contributed to this toxic culture to fly under the radar, and that directly hurt people he should have extended a hand to.

Unfortunately for most of the fandom, this is, ultimately, a show that loves stories about redemption and resolution. And there is actual, explicit (meaning, non-subtextual) evidence that Tommy has put in some work to remedy what he did and who he was (including being able to 1.] own up to his past actions, 2.] understand how he hurt others, 3.] recognize why he did what he did and how that it is an explanation, not an excuse, and 4.] begin to make amends or rectify the situation, like reporting Gerrard and changing his mind about Hen and Chim). Hen and Chim would not have invited him for drinks regularly if they thought he was "irredeemable." The 118 would not have thrown him a going away party if they disliked him. Chim would not call in favors from Tommy on more than one occasion or even describe him as "so cool" if they weren't—well—cool. Eddie wouldn't enjoy ring-side fights and basketball games with Tommy if he didn't enjoy the man's company. Tommy also clearly refers to the type of man he was in the past tense, implying change over time. It can be argued that he has not put in enough work, but that's not what's being argued. We're getting bad faith arguments that Hen, Chim, and Eddie hate Tommy or bad faith arguments where Tommy's past actions are only brought forth as some sort of "gotcha" when a fan prefers canon representation over homophobic fan fiction tropes. You don't have to like Tommy, but making up non-textual reasons to dislike him is absurd.

Tommy, as a character in a narrative, provides a lesson for the general audience (GA), the majority of whom are white. It's not just important to see queer people on screen; it's important to see white people learn and change and admit they were wrong. It's also important that the show—well—shows the GA that whiteness and man-ness affect people's perception, position, and treatment. Tommy isn't just a gay man; he is a white gay man, and this has had a direct impact on how he navigates the world and how the world interacts with him. Gerrard treats men like Sal and Tommy differently than men like Chim or women like Hen, and staying in Gerrard's good graces—like the good graces of oppressive power structures—requires one to conform to a very narrow definition of a "real man," like being straight, white, palatable (like... not kinky, not risqué, not queer, all the things the fandom seems to actually hate Tommy for), and not helping oust regressive figures from positions of authority for the way they treat your coworkers. The audience got to see how Tommy went from being the prodigal son to being openly mocked by men like Gerrard. And it's important to show the GA that someone can and will be happier if they go against the grain and that admiration from men like Gerrard means very little in the grand scheme. Tommy is happier now after having been "rebuked" by men like Gerrard than he was when he strove for their praise and acceptance.

It's also important to show that men like Gerrard and his beliefs belong in the past, even though they exist in the present. This is a network TV show. A non-zero number of men like Gerrard catch this show weekly. It is still important to show that Gerrard is not the "type" of man anyone should aspire to be. His beliefs and actions are not commendable, and the show is very heavy-handed about this. The show is going to once again compare Gerrard ("bad captain") and Bobby ("good captain") to show how Bobby has created a good legacy at the 118. It began this parallel with Bobby Begins Again, continued to reinforce Bobby's good legacy in Buck's coma arc, and then revisited how Bobby has had a positive influence on the lives of the 118 in his season 7 montage. Now, the show is going to compare and contrast him and Gerrard to reinforce how important Bobby is to those around him. The show will also continue its inadvertent parallels between Buck and Tommy, showing how Buck is a different man under similar circumstances because he has had good influences (re: Bobby, Hen, and Chim) in his life. Buck and Eddie's relationship was shaping up to be very similar to Tommy and Chim's relationship: oppositional because of one-sided disregard and dislike, but it didn't because they had a good influence: Bobby (given the rather... fucked timeline, Tommy was likely newer to the 118 when Chim joined and, like Buck, his hostility and posturing were also likely influenced by insecurity and a desire to secure his position at the table).

Most unfortunately for many, the show is also going to show how Tommy has changed due to the same influences (re: Bobby, Hen, and Chim). They wouldn't have re-introduced both Tommy and Gerrard and mentioned their dynamic on more than one occasion if they weren't going to do something with that. Season 7 set up Tommy's upcoming arc very nicely. He knows the man he was, he knows the man who shaped him into that, and he knows how and why that was wrong. We'll get Tommy confronting his obvious daddy issues, jealousy, and desire for community (and why he didn't get a family-like dynamic at the 118, re: Gerrard *and* Tommy's own behavior). Tommy has been explicit about this, literally telling Buck that he envies the relationship the people at the 118 have and mentioning that he was not a good person, and this played a part in why he didn't have the same rapport.

9-1-1 is not a perfect show, but it does reflect some of the positive changes of our time. It's important to see representations of comp-het—like Buck, Tommy, and Michael—and how it negatively impacts people's character or relationships, and then how they—the character—can amend that. It's important to see stories that depict how silence is complicity and how refusing to be silent—as Hen refused to be—makes change and changes minds. It's important that the show reminds the audience that Hen is a black lesbian and that this has impacted how people see her and treat her, but that she is just as capable, if not more so. This includes men like Chim. Because I see nearly none of the people who "critique" Tommy in the name of "shipping" ever bring up how Chim has leaned on the patriarchy for support and a position at the table. He may have been the kindest to Hen, but he was by no means normal about women. And it is important to see how non-white men benefit from the patriarchy even as they are victimized by white supremacy. It's also important that the show shows the GA that non-white men are not affected by white supremacy equally, as Michael and Harry have had discussions about blackness and police brutality, a conversation that Chim is never going to have to have with his children, but that doesn't mean that Chim won't have to one day have a discussion with Jee-Yun about how and why some people treat her differently.

But the fandom approaches everything in a very... Catholic way. They don't approach this from the view that people can change and should be pushed to change; rather, they shun people like they've been marked by original sin. The structures we live under have deeply affected each and every one of our worldviews. "You are not immune to the propaganda" includes your personal philosophies and ideologies as well as the things you were taught since you were a child, consciously and "subconsciously." But, people would rather condemn everyone else as "irredeemable" than look critically at their own behavior out of fear of being "one of the bad ones." They'd rather *not* accept the fact that everyone has learning and changing to do as that would reflect upon them, too. This leads to being very resistant to being told that you're mistaken, you've hurt others, or that your behavior and beliefs contribute to repressive, dangerous, or toxic ideas (and we've seen a lot of that; y'all do not create safe online spaces). This leads to a lack of personal change as well as a lack of change at the interpersonal level because rather than teach or challenge, they stick up their nose and turn the other way. "Their barbaric bigotry; my enlightened neglect."

So, really, they've learned nothing from a character like Tommy.

#911 ABC #Tommy Kinard #fucking discourse

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golden1u5t · 5 months

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birthday boy | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: it’s spencer’s birthday and derek’s birthday gift to him is a trip to the strip club and private dance.

"she's pretty nice, huh?" derek put his hand on spencer's shoulder but the poor boy was too mesmerized to do anything other than nod his head. derek shook his head as chuckled, turning around to head back to the bar and leaving spencer to continue watching you dance on the stage.

spencer watched you intensely, studying how gracefully you twirled on the pole, how you arched your body to give the audience a show. he had seen strippers before, he was from vegas after all, but he had never seen one move like you, never seen one as pretty as you. when derek first pulled him into the club he was sure he was going to hate it but when derek had left his side to go mingle with whatever pretty lady he could find, spencer had no choice but to find a seat and his attention was immediately drawn to you when you walked onto the stage.

unfortunately, your dance had come to an end and you were leaving the stage. spencer frowned as he watched you leave, he was ready to leave himself as the only reason he stayed was now walking away. he let out a small huff and stood up, he scanned the area until he spotted derek leaning against the bar.

"i'm ready to leave now." spencer shouted above the loud music as he pulled his jacket back over his arms. derek turned around to face him before downing his drink and taking spencer's jacket back off, he wrapped his arm around him and started guiding him to the back of the club.

"not just yet, pretty boy. the night's not over." he flashed him a toothy smile as they approached the private rooms, he opened the door and shoved spencer in before he could let out any complaints. "enjoy your dance."

spencer looked around the dimly lit room, taking in his surroundings, as he walked over to the chair that sat in the middle of the room and sat down. he was confused but he trusted derek with his life so he stayed put. soon enough, the door opened and as you walked in spencer flushed a shade of pink, he watched you close the door behind you and walk further into the room.

you walked over to the speaker that was on the table and connected your phone, you hadn’t looked at him yet since you had been focused on fixing the strap on your outfit when you first came in.

"do you have a song request?" you asked as you scrolled through the music on your phone. when he didn't answer you, you turned around to look at him. you immediately recognized him from your dance, he’s a hard person to forget. “i noticed you out there. you were with your friend, right?

"you did?" spencer’s voice shot up an octave, he rubbed his sweaty palms on his slacks and cleared his throat. you set your phone down on the table after you turned on your go to song and walked closer to him. as soon as you stepped into his space he could smell your perfume, you smelled better than he could’ve imagined and he could feel his blood shooting south already.

"how could i not? you were the only one that sat through the whole dance without leaving and you were the only attractive one, too." you walked behind him and ran your hands over his shoulders and down his chest. spencer went rigid as you felt down his body, his breathing was irregular and you noticed that.

"you've never done this before, have you?"

"no-no, today's my birthday."

you hummed and walked around the chair, swaying your hips in tune with the music. spencer's heart nearly burst out of his chest when you sat on his lap, his hands remained firmly at his sides.

you reached back and cupped his head, starting to move your hips on his crotch.

spencer gasped at the friction, his eyes fluttering closed. He was dying to touch you, his hands twitched every so often as you moved yourself on him.

soft groans and whimpers fell from his lips even though he tried his hardest to contain them. you were used to the men, sometimes women, making sounds while you danced on them but they never got you going like how spencer was. you found yourself grinding on him longer than you usually would have, pushing him to make more of those beautiful sounds.

you turned around in his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, all professionalism was gone and you couldn't care less. spencer eventually gave up on trying to keep his hands to himself, he grabbed at your hips as his own lifted from the seat. before he realized it, his cum had started to seep through his boxers.

you had to get off of his lap before you tried to fuck him right then and there. you smoothed down your mini skirt and cleared your throat, walking over to stop the music playing.

"i don't- i-" spencer tried to gather his jumbled thoughts and form a complete sentence but he just couldn't, not after what just happened. he opted to just stand up and head to the door, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible, but you stopped him before he could leave.

"here's my number." you pulled him by the belt loops and pushed the card into the waistband of his pants. "i'll be waiting for a call, birthday boy."

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fandom #spencerreid smut #sub spencer reid #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

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livinahey · 1 year

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Random astro obs bcs y not

Warning ⚠️ mentions of abuse and trauma

scorpio luminaries & luminaries aspect to pluto (especially harsh aspect) almost be always know when something/someone is gonna do no good to you. If they warn you ab something then just follow them. Bcs what they say is scarily often end up being true

Also, if from the first meet these natives STRONGLY dislike you even though you didnt do anything then yeah.... Youre the problem lol. No matter if youre everyone crush, everyone sweetheart, or whatever is that. Again, like I said before, they seems to always know when something/someone is not good

These natives can also scared of themselves bcs of this

I think we admire ppl who have our mars sign as their sun sign

Sag sun with water moon women makes the loyal partner 🥺🤧 be it business partner, in friendship, or as a lover. Don't leave them.

When you see mars square pluto native gets bad mood or even angry.... RUN

Bcs they can be so violent at that time and you dont want to see that

Same goes to cap moon 💀

Women with moon square bml (black moon lilith) always have the best glow ups ✨✨🤧 im so proud (and bit jealous lol) of you dear

Mercury in leo degrees (5, 17, 29) being sooooo charming. They be say "hi" only and you already weak(???) lol

Leo venus 🤝 cant go a day without boasting what they love, be it their hobbies, their job, their loved ones, their pet, or even the place where they live lol. So passionate

I'm not surprised if theyre the one that have many posts on their social media account

Ppl with big 6 at 6 degrees (virgo degree) can be seen as villain

Moon conjunct jupiter synastry: when the moon person getting humiliated/disrespect, the jupiter person be defending the moon person. Also, the moon person can have soft spot for the jupiter person

Natal aspects to sun i like are sun conjunct mars and sun-pluto any major aspects. The word "sexy" is literally made for them lol.

TW ABUSE

women with cap or cancer mars plsssss check again the man you choose to date or even marry. Bcs i often see these women end up experience being abused severely by their man in their relationship. Men often being intimidated by these women yet still wanna date them. These women do dating man that seems cool and amazing or even adorable person outside BUT UNFORTUNATELY it turns out that the man are the worst person ever. At worst case, the man's family dislike these women due to jealousy towards them. No matter how bad these women get treated by the man, the man's family will still defend the man and treated these women as if theyre the problem 💔

Also, these women can dealing with fucking crazy men that cannot accept being rejected by them atleast once in their life. Scary af

Gemini moon/mars are naturally funny without even trying ✋😭

Sag/pisces rising 🤝 always have ppl crushing over them and even become worshipping them

Libra rising are so beautiful and it seems unbelievable

Cancer rising and their terrible mood swing 🤕 yet still look like the most calm and unbothered person ever

Mercury-bml aspects culture is having what they say being questioned. And if they have sun-uranus aspects too then.... Good luck trying to understand them 🥴

Mercury-bml aspects is underrated funny placements imo. They be say questionable thing but idk i find it funny tho 😩

Scorpio rising and having traumatic experience/memories when they young that seems keep haunting them even until they become old :(

Also they often get disappointed by their family :( they can give all their family members a mountain of gold, being so kind to them to the point they forgetting their own needs and this scorpio rising still getting unappreciated & bad treatment. PLS APPRECIATE SCORPIO RISING IN UR LIFE !!❤‍🩹🫂 they are one of sincere people that often attracts evil eye that doesnt wanna see them being success

Whats with earth rising and having this disgusted/judging look 🥲

They can look at you normally and you will feel that theyre judging you even if they arent

Sag rising and leo rising 🤝 having beef with eachother

Same goes to taurus sun x gemini sun

Cap sun x virgo sun friendship be the weird yet funny pair

Every leo placement always have virgo placement in their life

They can have love-hate relationship with eachother tho lol.

And the same goes to every cap placement that always have aries placement in their life

You either love the opposite sex that has the same mars sign as you OR going "mehh" of them

Earth rising 🤝 secured financially. Maybe you never catched them worry ab not having money to save their life

Hey thank you for reading this so far!! I do these obs not bcs I wanna gain followers or what but bcs I found these things give me joy hehe ✌🏻 english isnt my first language so apologize for any grammar mistakes. be safe out there!! 🫂✨

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princessaxoxo · 1 year

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Dad's Best Friend

August Walker x reader

Summary: August is your dad's best friend, and the two of you share a special afternoon.

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, unprotected sex (p in v), cussing, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, pet names (princess, my girl, baby, good girl), Age Gap

Wordcount: 1.8k+

A/N: Reader is in her mid 20s and august is in his 40s.

You attended your father's 46th birthday celebration; this year, he went above and beyond. Instead of hosting the celebration at his home as he usually did, he chose to rent a banquet hall. The reason? You did not know.

Nonetheless, the décor and the extravagantly dressed attendees were stunning. Ladies, including you in the most exquisite dresses, and men dressed in their best suits

As you moved around the room, you introduced yourself to everyone and thanked them on your father's behalf.

That is when you noticed him, August. You did not think he might be here, but he definitely would be given that your father and him have been close friends for a long time.

In the past, even with other people around, you did not dare to approach him. You were not as nervous anymore because you were older and had more life experience.

"Hey August, remember me?" you said as you entered his field of vision. "No, I am sorry; I don't," he said after giving you a quick glance. "Alexander's daughter, I know I do not look the same," you said with a smile as you looked at him. August's eyes nearly bulged out of his head in shock at what he was seeing.

Although he thought you were attractive the last time he saw you, he decided not to pursue you because you were the daughter of his close friend.

"Oh yes, I apologize. How are you doing?"

Compared to the earlier conversations you had that same night, this one between the two of you seemed to flow naturally.

August began to perceive you differently; you were not the same apprehensive college student he first met three years ago. That is what frightened him, because he did not care about the consequences of what he wanted to do to you and with you.

He eyed your movements more than he should’ve. Whether or not you noticed was irrelevant to him. How you occasionally licked your lips following each wine sip

He needed to leave your presence because of the unholy thoughts that started to run through his mind. "Please excuse me; I have to use the restroom." He smiled at you with his lips pursed.

You were upset in some ways and dreaded the conversation's end. However, you also departed to spend the rest of the evening with your parents.

When the cake was brought out for your father, everyone gathered. August put his arm around your father and shouted, "Happy birthday!" clearly drunk.

When your father went to blow out the candles, August looked at you with a lustful glare that made you squeeze your thighs together.

He noticed that, and it made his ego soar knowing he was making you feel that way.

You arrived at your parent's house the following morning. "Hello?" As there was nobody in sight when you went to look around, you made the decision to sit and wait for them.

After 30 minutes, you heard the door open. "Mom? Dad?” you called out.

"Unfortunately, no, I came by to say goodbye to your father," August said as he appeared.

“Oh, my parents' are out. I’m not sure when they’ll be back.” You looked to the couch and said, “If you like, you could sit and wait with me.”

He didn’t second-guess his choice.

He took a seat and began to man spread.

On a chair your parents had in the living room, you sat across from him.

Until he spoke, the two of you sat in quiet comfort. “If I have not already said so, you looked stunning last night.”

“Thank you; what I wore last night wasn’t my first choice, nor was the dress my favorite.” August stayed quiet for a moment, taking you in. He rubbed his jaw. "Well, still, you looked stunning. I'm sure you look stunning in anything you wear"

What he said shocked you, you hadn't expected to hear that from him.

You eyed him just as he did with you, and you realized that you hadn't seen someone look so good with a beard; you wanted to know how it would feel against your pussy while giving you head.

You were 99% sure it would feel like heaven.

Acting on instinct, you walked over to the couch and climbed onto his lap. He leaned his head back to look up at you with a smirk. “And what are you doing, princess?” You grabbed his jaw and kissed him. His lips were soft, moving elegantly against yours.

You felt his hardened cock underneath his slacks, and you started to rub yourself against his cock.

He grabbed the back of your neck, turning the soft kiss into a harsh one.

Holding onto you tightly, he turned you on your back. He started to kiss down your neck, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.

"Let's get your shirt off." He threw your shirt off and started kissing between your breasts. You leaned up for a moment to unclasp your bra. As soon as it was off, he grabbed each one, kissing and sucking your nipples and moaning around them.

"Fuck, you have the most perfect tits."

Moans were filling up the silence in the house.

You helped him undo your pants, and he smacked your thighs for you to open them wider.

"You're drenched for me already, princess." He moved your panties over and slid two of his fingers between your folds before removing them and tasting you.

He held a smirk on his face as he lowered himself. He ripped your panties, and you felt his breath over your bare pussy. "Please August"

"Tell me what you want, princess, and I'll give it to you."

You looked at him with pleading eyes and said, "Please lick my pussy; I need it."

He opened up your folds with his fingers and started sucking on your clit, he removed his mouth, and you whined. You leaned up to look at him; he spat down on your pussy and started to rub your clit. "Oh, shit" you moaned loudly.

You watched as he relentlessly sucked and licked your pussy repeatedly.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head. Your pussy tasted so sweet. "Does my girl want my fingers?" You couldn't get your words out; you nodded quickly.

"Give me your words."

"Yes, I want your fingers."

He plunged his fingers into you, and he watched as you threw your head back.

You could feel yourself on the verge of an orgasm. "I- I'm going to come." You held on to his hair as you grinded your pussy on his face.

Your moans became louder, and your thighs started to shake. He held a tight grip on them. Your eyes were shut tightly, and you saw spots behind them as you came on his face.

You were right; his beard felt fantastic against your pussy.

You watched him take off his shirt and then his slacks. He pulled out his enlarged cock, which was bigger than you anticipated.

"Open your mouth." You did as told; he looked at you, then his cock. "You know what to do, baby."

You kissed his head and then licked around his tip before fully taking his cock into your mouth. You began to hallow your cheeks as he pushed his cock down your throat. "God, baby, your mouth is a talent."

Tears started to brim in your eyes. "My girl looks gorgeous with my cock down her throat. Shit, I'm going to fucking cum." He spurted down your throat, and you proudly swallowed his load.

"I need to feel your pussy around my cock; I can't wait a moment longer."

He tapped his cock on your pussy, and moved between your folds. Your wetness spread over him before he delved into you. Your mouth parted with a moan. "Oh god, August."

"That's right, baby. Taking my dick so well. You're such a good girl for me."

He slowly built up a pace that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. "Your pussy belongs to me now, do you understand?" He grunted out, "I've been thinking of this since last night, wondering how you feel around my cock."

He gave your face a little slap and grabbed your jaw. "Answer me."

"Yes, my pussy belongs to you."

Both of your moans were mixing together with the sound of slapping skin, and he was in awe at how your tits were bouncing up and down. He leaned down and licked around one of your nipples while pinching the other one.

He moved his lips upward and began to massage his tongue with yours. You moaned into the intense kiss you were sharing.

He grabbed one of your legs, lifting it onto his shoulder, kissing the side of your ankle, and holding onto your hips. This position allowed him to reach deeper. "August, baby, I'm going to come."

"Yeah, going to come all over my cock? Just like a good girl, I know you are."

He pulled you closer to him and increased his pace; your nails were scratching on his back. His grunts were sounds of pleasure and pain.

"Look at me; I want to see your pretty face while you come all over, my cock princess."

Your brows furrowed, and you felt that familiar feeling in your stomach while your thighs began to shake.

"Oh, oh yes."

August was close to your face, your lips brushing against one another.

"I'm going to fill up your sweet pussy; make you full of me, baby."

"Yes, please"

He kissed you hard before he moaned out, filling you with his cum. August thrusted inside you a few more times to get every drop of him into you.

August removed his cock, and at the same time, you heard a car pulling into the driveway.

"Shit!"

In a hurry, you and August got dressed.

Your parents walked through the door. "y/n, where are you, sweetie?"

"I'm in the living room." You smiled at her once you saw her. She looked over at August, not expecting to see him. "August, what are you doing here?" He responded kindly to her, "I was coming to say goodbye to my best man, of course."

Your mother told him where your father was, and afterward, she walked to you. "Are you okay? you're flustered."

"Yes, of course I'm okay. Just excited to spend my last night with both you and Dad."

Your mother, being the sweetest person on the planet, of course, believed your lie.

"y/n come say bye to August."

You walked to him, standing in front of the door. "It was so nice seeing you again. It was a pleasure." The smile you held was genuine.

"No, trust me, the pleasure was all mine." August brought you in for a hug and whispered in your ear.

"You will keep my cum in you for the rest of the day. If you don't, I will find out. I'll be seeing you love." He gave you a kiss on your cheek before bidding your parents goodbye for the last time.

#henry cavill #first post #henry cavill smut #smutty #henry cavill x reader #august walker #august #august walker x reader #august walker smut #august walker x you #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction

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osachiyo · 1 year

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"𝓐𝓶 𝓘 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓸𝓯?" ༉‧₊˚.

↺ includes : dazai osamu & chuuya nakahara x fem!reader

↺ content warnings : nsfw content (mdni), threesome, double penetration, facefucking, overstimulation, unprotected sex, oral (m &f recieving), hairpulling, dumbification etc

↺ synopsis : you had one too many drinks at a bar after getting dumped by your ex boyfriend on your birthday, and end up fucking the two most dangerous men you have ever met

↺ w.c : 2.7k+ words of absolute filth

↺ author's note : Ik I said this will be posted on the 29th but I kindaaa finished early...I honestly thought dazai & fyodor would win in the poll but I'm pleasantly surprised that chuuya won. Happy reading & I hope y'all enjoy <3 ps. this is supposed to be a bday fic for someone but I unfortunately could not find the ask so whoever you are, happy early b'day!

You squealed when Dazai parted your shaky thighs, licking his lips at your soaked lacy panties. "oh, bella, we barely even touched you and you're already dripping down there? naughty girl.." his voice dropped an octave, making you shiver. "quit yappin' and get to work, shitty dazai," Chuuya scoffed from behind you, gloved fingers pinching and pulling at your swollen nipples, coaxing little whines and moans from you. "you are just jealous that I'm the one about to devour her right now," the bandaged man shrugged, but still complying nonetheless. His fingers hooked under your panties and swiftly pulled them down, breath hitching as he watched webs of your sticky arousal cling to the thin fabric. Chuuya noticed that your attention was on Dazai and he wasn't having that. He turned your face to the side and smashed his lips against yours, swallowing your moans as Dazai nibbled on the insides of your thighs. Just how did you get stuck between these two unbelievably attractive men?

...You sighed, slamming your shot of Tequila down, the alcohol burning in your throat. "And he just broke up with me like that! On my fucking birthday too! What the fuck?" Your friend only patted your back, frowning, "girl, I knew he was no good from day one. let's just forget about him for now, yeah? try to enjoy tonight?" You nodded, a frown etched on your face. "Yeah, I know...but I really loved him, y'know? Even though he was terrible in bed," you giggled, nudging your friend's arm playfully. "How about we get you some real action tonight?" She wiggled her eyebrows, both of you chuckling. "Who should I go for?" You scanned the bar, looking for your partner for the night when your eyes land on Chuuya. The ginger haired man was at a corner, sipping away at his expensive drink, target locked. You touched your makeup up a bit before strutting towards him, giving him your best doe eyes when he looks up at you, "You here alone?" He smirked, "No, I'm here with some... colleagues. What about you, pretty girl?" You took a seat beside him, grinning as he poured you a glass of the 20 something grand drink, "I'm here with my friend, We're here to celebrate my birthday." He handed you the glass, "Oh, happy birthday. how's your night goin' so far?" You sipped on the drink, scrunching your face at the bitter taste of the alcohol, "Well...not to spill my life story or anything, but I got dumped today," he frowned, placing a gloved hand on your shoulder, "Sorry 'bout that, hon. Must've been an ass to do that on you birthday." You laughed, staring in his greyish blue eyes, "Yeah.." he leaned closer, his breath fanning over your lips, you could almost taste the 'aged monopole' on his lips—

"chuuuuuuuyaaa~" Dazai interrupted you both with his sing-song voice, making you both jump. "What the hell are you doing here?" Chuuya gritted his teeth, clearly annoyed. You turned around to lock eyes with chocolate brown ones; oh, he was pretty. You could see a smirk splayed on his lips, winking at you before looking at Chuuya. "I thought I smelled a dog around here, and would you look at that? It's my dear ex-partner Chuuya!" The said man swung at Dazai, landing a punch on his stomach. "Oumph— I was wondering what you were doing with such a pretty woman," he said, taking your hand in his, kissing the back of it. "May I have the honour of knowing this pretty lady's name?" You giggled, "Of course, it's—" Chuuya cut you off by snatching your hand away, glaring daggers at Dazai. "Get the hell out of here, mackerel," Chuuya groaned. "This pretty lady has been through a breakup tonight, on her birthday, and I'm sure she doesn't need you annoying her to death too." Dazai only pouted, "Or are you just afraid that she'd leave you because of me, hmm?" He looked at you, smiling. "Trust me, baby. I can do much better than this malnourished ginger." You could see Chuuya's right eye twitch. "You really think so?" The brunette man leaned closer, towering over the both of you. "I know so." "Then let's fucking prove it."

...Everything after that was a blur to you. You didn't remember when you left the bar with them or when you entered the hotel. All you knew was that it felt so hot. It felt so hot when Chuuya pressed open-mouthed kisses on your nape and behind your ears, all while Dazai made himself comfortable between your spread legs. He shoved your panties in his pocket for later use, his tongue darting out to kitten lick at your puffy clit. He could feel your pussy throbbing on his tongue, clearly wanting more of his touch. Chuuya pushed the straps of your tight black dress down your shoulders, massaging your plump breasts while kissing you deeply. "Oh, you taste fucking divine," Dazai hummed, snickering when you clenched down on his tongue from the praise. "You like that, birthday girl? like it when I praise you?" You could only moan, nodding your head. The ginger man behind you flipped you over so that you were on your stomach, ass pressing against Dazai's face, and he moaned, calloused fingers spreading your cheeks apart as he slurped your juices up. Your cheek was smushed against Chuuya's dress pants, drooling on the expensive fabric. You could see the prominent bulge on his crotch, just begging to be touched. "Put that pretty mouth to use, darl'," he whispered, unzipping his pants and pulling his boxer's down, his cock finally springing free and slapping against his stomach. Your mouth watered; it was so pretty. Reasonable sized with a girth promised to make you see stars. The tip was flushed pink, precum pearling at his slit. You picked the underside of his cock, paying extra attention to the large vein, making him hiss. He grabbed the back of your head, tapping his cock on your warm cheek, "Open up, hon." You happily obliged, sticking your tongue out for him to shove his shaft down your throat, making you slightly gag as tears prick your eyes. You gasped when Dazai pushed two slim fingers into your hole, your insides sucking them in eagerly. "There we go, sweet girl. Taking my fingers so nicely~" You cleched down on him at the praise, moaning around the fat cock in your mouth. The red-head shivered at the vibrations from your mouth. Tipping his head back slightly, fingers tightening their grip on your hair as you start bobbing your head up and down. It was messy; webs of his precum and your saliva was dripping down your chin, your mascara running down your puffy cheeks as you tried your best to breathe through your nose. Dazai scoffed when Chuuya smirked at him, successful in stealing your attention. He blew on your clit, making you jump. You tried to look back at him but Chuuya's grip was firm, patting your head softly before doing an experimental thrust in your mouth, tip of his cock nudging against the back of your throat. On the other hand, Dazai was getting lost in your cunt; skilled tongue swirling over your swollen clit, fingers curling against your g-spot, moaning into your pussy when you clenched particularly hard. Chuuya was now thrusting up into your warm mouth eagerly, holding your head down while muttering out small curses. He loved the way your eyes rolled back from the overwhelming feeling of Dazai eating your cunt like the best meal he's ever had while Chuuya fucked your throat 'till it burned, your lipstick staining his cock.

You jolted forward when a lubed finger pushed into your other hole, the feeling entirely foreign to you. Dazai's warm hand smoothed over your ass, giving it a playful smack, "Relax, pretty. You are gonna take the both of us, aren't you?" Your eyes widened, the both of them inside..at the same time— could you even handle it?

Chuuya patted your cheek softly, turning your attention to him, "You don't have to if you don't want to, we won't force you into anything." Your heart fluttered at his caring nature, hearts practically swimming in your pupils. You pulled your mouth off of Chuuya's cock, making him hiss. " 's okay.. I can take it," you whispered, making Dazai smirk devilishly, "that's my girl."

They switched places now; Chuuya between your pretty legs while Dazai eagerly thrusted up into your welcoming mouth, slobbering all over his cock. Your jaw was hurting from how hard he was shoving himself in and out, back arching like a cat's when Chuuya's long fingers brush against that one spot inside your walls. His tongue swirled around your puckered hole, making you squeal and try to kick your legs and fail, his hands firmly gripping them, "Behave," he growled into your cunt, making Dazai snicker. "How's she taste?" Dazai grinned, hissing when your tongue swipes over his slit. "Fucking amazing," Chuuya's eyes slightly rolled back, going drunk from your addictive taste on his tongue. Dazai's thrusts sped up, now hitting the back of your throat as you creamed all over Chuuya's face. He was glad your back was turned to him so you couldn't see him cumming in his pants like a pathetic teenager. "Came in your pants already?" Dazai laughed, cutting himself off with a groan as he holds your head down, cumming down your throat.

Dazai picked your already tired body up, placing you on his lap, telling you how good you did for them while kissing your tears away. "Now, get ready for the real thing," he smirked, slapping the tip on your clit before lining his cock up with your entrance. "Hope you're ready, princess," Chuuya uttered from behind you, rubbing soothing circles on your back, pushing your hair out of the way to kiss and nibble on your marked neck as Dazai pushed into you with a wet 'pop!' Your jaw slacking as he buried himself to the hilt, pressing his forehead against yours as he panted out little praises. Your body was tense in Dazai's hold, clenching down on his cock when his fingers found your clit, trying to get you to relax and it worked as you went limp in his arms. Chuuya on the otherhand, was busy lathering lube all over his cock, pumping it a few times in his first before lining it up with your puckered hole. Slowly but surely pushing in, focused on how you moan into Dazai's lips, the smug brunnete swallowing your moans. "Does it hurt, doll?" He grunted, grabbing your hips for stability as he tried his best not to shove himself all the way in. "Hurts— hurts so good.." you slurred, eyes rolling back from the sheer pleasure of both of them inside you. His cock pushed fully past the tight ring of muscle, balls touching your ass while he shuddered, fingers digging into the plush of your hips so tightly that you're sure it'll leave bruises tomorrow. But you didn't care, not when you were stuffed full by these two men you had just met, creaming and clenching on their cocks. "God, she's clenching so damn hard. Aren't you, baby?" The man in front of you panted, fingers still rubbing circles on your clit, pinching the small bud when you whine and whimper for them. Chuuya turned your head around to face him, capturing your parted lips for a sweet kiss, rolling his hips experimentally and groaning when you tighten even further.

Your makeup had been completely ruined by the time they were finally starting to thrust in and out of you, the two of them perfectly synchronized with each other, as if they could read the other person's mind. Every time one of them pulled out, the other pushed in and vice versa. Your mouth formed an 'o' shape, clawing at Dazai's shirt as they worked you to your orgasm. Your brain couldn't function properly anymore, filtering out all thoughts besides the two men ravaging you right now, stretching out your holes and all you could do was lay there and sob out their names. "Oh shiit— did we fuck her stupid already?" Chuuya questioned, breathy moans and grunts leaving his swollen lips that were stained with your lipstick like his cock. "Sure looks like it, ah fuuck—" Dazai moaned, their rhythm slowly falling apart as their orgasm approached. " 'm gunna—" you couldn't even finish your sentence before squrting all over their cocks, head lolling back on Chuuya's shoulder as you twitched from the overstimulation. Dazai's hips stilled suddenly, shooting his seed deep inside of you, some of it dribbling out as he pulls out, some of it spurting on your cunt, coating your pussy lips in his release. Chuuya's arms hooked under your knees, bringing you to his chest as you screamed his name, tears flowing out of your puffy eyes like jewels. "Cumming— fuck!" He growled, slim hips pressed against your plump ass while he flooded your insides with his cum.

Your heavy eyelids widened when Chuuya lifted you up, now facing him. "What're you—" you gasped when you felt his cock prodding at your cunt this time, ready to fuck you to oblivion. Dazai gripped your hair from behind, tugging on it to make eye contact with you, "You didn't think we were done from just that, did you?" You whimpered at his low tone of voice, perfectly manicured nails digging into Chuuya's shoulders as he pushes into you again, your cunt fucked raw and sore. Bandaged hands spread your cheeks apart, groaning at the lewd view of his ex-partners cum flowing out of your hole. " 's too mph— much!" You babbled, wincing at Dazai pulled at your hair and landed a swift smack on your ass. "You can take it, honey," he bit his lip, slipping into your other hole with a loud groan, your eyes crossing at the mind-numbing stimulation.

"Shiiit— pussy grippin' me so tight," Chuuya moaned, throwing his head back as he thrusted into you vigorously. The three of you were rendered a drooling, panting mess; overstimulated and shaking as they bend and mold your body to their desire, turning you into their personal cocksleeve for the night and you loved it. Dazai's fingers found your nipples, pinching and pulling and the hardened buds, making you cry out even louder for them, slapping one of the soft mounds before flicking at your nipples again.

You felt something in your lower stomach turning, tightening as they thrusted in and out of your oversensitive cunt. Chuuya's hand suddenly wrapped around your throat, not gripping tight but hard enough to make you feel breathless and dizzy. Everything went white, you could hear ringing in your ears as you gushed all over them, your juices covering Chuuya's abdomen and dripping down his cock. A creamy ring had formed around the base of his cock, hands reaching everywhere they could before his hips stopped, his semen gushing into your walls and staining them white. Dazai came shortly after, burying his face into your neck as his cum filled your gooey insides.

They both pulled out before Dazai laid you on your back gently, softly shushing your sobs as you clung onto him, burying your face in his chest. His hand was splayed on your back, rubbing random shapes on your sensitive skin. "Shh, my pretty girl. Did so well for us, hm?" He whispered, kissing the crown of your head while Chuuya got up to get a washcloth and a glass of water. He handed you the glass of water and some pills, "birth pills," he clarified, looking away bashfully while Dazai snickered. You didn't even realize how dry your throat was until drinking the cold water, offering your burning throat some relief. "I should probably lea—" you got cut off by Dazai pulling you back into his arms burying his face into your soft chest, "Why not stay? I'm not the type of guy to let a pretty lady go home alone at 3 am after having such an intimate moment." Chuuya huffed and nodded in agreement, laying next to you before wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Dazai pouted, scooting closer and shoving Chuuya's arm off of you. "A dog should know it's place, you should honestly go sleep on the floor," Dazai joked. "HAAH?!"

©ambrosiaa— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, likes and reblogs are very appreciated♡

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moonydustx · 6 months

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Can I be your favorite?

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Summary: In search of information, Law meets an archaeologist who brings all his insecurities and jealousies to the surface. Warnings: porn with practically no plot, explicit content, smut, jealousy, possessiveness, almost declarations of love. Law and F!Reader already have a "relationship" (depending on your point of view, it could even be part of A not so funny story). Despite bringing some canonical details, it diverges a little from the story. A/N: a few days ago an edit with this song appeared on my fy and it just stuck in my head and this idea came to me. Minors do not interact | +18 only

Requests open | one piece masterlist

Law seemed increasingly interested in the search for the Poneglyphs. It was the third island you visited that he knew where to find certain information. This time, only you and him disembarked from Polar Tang, the justification was that it would be something quick, just finding an informant.

You just didn't expect such information to be with an archaeologist. A beautiful, blonde and hot archaeologist. Law had already told you about her and how fame preceded her, how she liked to use men to her advantage and pleasure. That immediately set off an alert in your mind.

"What is she doing here?" was the first thing the woman said when she saw you entering the bar, which was the meeting point. "From what I remember, I said I would exchange the information in exchange for you coming alone, Mr. Surgeon of Death."

"You'd trade the information for money, Arine." he corrected her. "She's the strategist of my crew, I need her in these types of meetings."

The woman turned her nose in your direction and took Law by one of her arms, leading him into the bar. Just by the atmosphere of the place you knew that the woman had a certain influence there. Glances – both drawn and protective – danced around Arine. In a way, it made you feel out of place, it was as if you had the wrong clothes, the wrong hair, everything wrong, just a mere figure following the two of them.

At one of the tables further back, the woman sat down, almost merging her body with Law's, forcing you to sit on the opposite side. You even tried to avoid it, but her meek tone of voice and the hands that made a point of touching Law in every gap made a gray cloud of jealousy appear in you. As much as you ended your nights in the captain's room and were woken up by his kisses, you knew that nothing had been established. He was free to even be with the disgusting blonde in front of you.

Law, on the other hand, noticed the ignorance of the woman in your direction. The unwanted touches on him, Arine's provocative voice, but the information she brought matched what he was looking for, besides the fact that if he disagreed with the woman and ended up getting into an argument he would be putting both of you at risk.

"So..." the blonde's voice sounded more irritating than usual. "I don't believe you came just looking for information. The island is huge, I believe there is a favorite thing for you to do." even from across the table, you could see her throw her legs over Law's. "Or someone's favorite."

"My favorite thing here is you and the information you can give." he spoke harshly, immediately noticing the unfortunate choice of words.

That was the limit for you. Okay, there was no way she could know the history between the two of you, but you weren't obligated to watch Law make the slightest effort to get out of that situation. Your hands slammed harder than you expected against the table as soon as you stood up, attracting both of their attention.

"I'm going to get a drink." your eyes remained fixed on Law's and soon you turned your back to both of them.

Law could read the jealousy in your eyes as soon as you walked away, he knew he would need to invest his time in correcting it. He watched Arine get up and call you. He could have sworn you would kill the woman right then and there.

"You there." Arine poked your shoulder. "Get a drink..." she started, speaking louder so everyone would think everything was okay. "And get out of here. I believe that my Law is not very comfortable in the presence of his employees. You are hindering my efforts to taste him."

"What?" your voice came from your lips in disbelief. It wasn't possible that you were listening to that, as much as you wanted to finish her off, your priority was to help Law with the Poneglyphs. "Yes ma'am."

You turned your back on her and went to the bar, ordering a dose of whatever strong shit they could offer you. You wanted to disappear, just erase your mere and insignificant existence at that moment. A hand touched your waist and you looked hopeless. Just another asshole in that place.

Law watched Arine return, with a malicious smile on her lips and throw her body on top of him again. His body tensed with hatred at each touch from the woman. You wouldn't touch him like that in public, why would she have any right?

"Where do we stop?" she asked and before Law could respond, he watched a man approach you and touch your waist.

"I need to go." Law started to get up, but was stopped by the woman.

"Don't worry about your pet, my man will take good care of her. Even simple little things like her deserve a good night." Arine said close to his ear. "I have a hotel a few meters away, we can have our good night there."

Law only lasted a few seconds of the woman speaking, while the scene unfolded in front of him. The man remained glued to you, his hand remained on your waist but the disgust was clear in your eyes. Law was tired of it. He turned towards Arine and, pretending to fall for her charms, he ran his hand down the woman's leg.

"Is he your trusted man?"

"The best I have." she replied, proud of finally making Law give in. "Your little pet will like it." His hands went down to Arine's calves and as soon as he reached the small dagger he had seen hidden in her boot, he pulled it out and stuck it on the table. Soon after, Law allowed his powers to create a blue beam on his hand and the sharp object.

"Get him away from her now." Law snapped. Anyone watching from afar would never have imagined that he was about to kill a man. "I'd hate to have this show up instead of his necklace."

The woman whistled and snapped her finger twice and the man released you immediately, to Law's relief. Maybe you weren't the only person who let yourself be consumed by jealousy.

"You value your pet too much."

Law took the knife from the table and brought it to the girl's throat, noticing that the bar immediately stopped to watch them.

"Keep her out of your damn mouth." Law threw the dagger on the table and took out a small bag of berris from his pocket. "Our treaty ends here."

"It is a shame." the woman handed him a small card. By damn irony, it was the same hotel you two were at. "Come see me if you change your mind."

Law left the woman talking to herself and looked around the bar. You were gone. He considered returning the dagger to the woman's throat and asking if she had anything to do with it, but something told him no. The only answer he had was that you had gone to your base point, the hotel.

After flirting, asking you to go somewhere else and even threatening you because the man had a "job to do", just like that the man let you go. Trying not to understand the situation and moving away from that madhouse that was the bar, Arine and all the idiots involved, you returned to the hotel.

The first thing you did was take off your shoes. Why get ready for a damn meeting? Just Arine's presence made it clear that you were no match. You couldn't stop thinking about where Law could be, what the two of them could be doing. "My only favorite thing here is you" Law's words were still echoing in your mind when you heard a few knocks on the door.

Without bothering to think, you opened it, finding Law apparently without much patience.

"Are you ok?" he asked, entering the room.

The hurt consumed you and seemed to suffocate the angry words that surfaced and died in your lack of courage. But despite everything, he was still there and not with her.

"May I ask why you're pouting?" Law closed the door behind him, watching you cross the room and sit on the bed.

The sight of you with your arms crossed and a pout - just like a tantruming child - was cute but it was clear that something was bothering you and Law knew exactly what it was. He just wanted to press your buttons and see how far your hatred for Arine would go or if something had actually happened and he would need to start a hunt.

"I'm not pouting." As much as you wanted to go on a silence strike, you knew it would be immature - and maybe even wrong.

"Now you're doing even more." a barely audible laugh left his lips. The man placed Kikoku against the door and started to watch you. "I think I have a hunch what this is about."

"Of course, dear Arine must have told you." the venom in your voice gave away everything Law needed to know.

"Why did you disappear? Did that idiot do something?"

"I hated that place." you just responded, finding Law looking at you in a worried way.

"Not what I asked."

"Long story short, he wanted to fuck me, but I'm not that good."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Captain, I don't want to talk about it." You stood up, heading towards the door but a hand stopped you from continuing. "Besides, you should be wasting time with Arine."

"Are you really going to fall for her conversation?"

"I heard you." you just said. "Your favorite girl, in fact, she's the one who asked me to leave. You wouldn't feel comfortable with her "tasting" you in front of your employees." you imitated her tone of voice.

The cynicism in your voice as well as the bright line in the waterline of your eyes created an alert in the doctor's mind. Perhaps Arine's manipulation had gone too far, Law was beginning to consider it a bad idea to have given in - or at least pretended - that the woman's charms didn't even come close to what you did to him. His hand let go of yours, only to let you reach the door. Before your hand touched the doorknob, it was covered by Law's, which locked the door. He needed to make it up to you and he didn't want to be interrupted by it.

"Please don't do that. I hated her as much as you did." he turned you around, coming face to face with you. "There's no need to be jealous. What can I do to make it up to you?"

"I don't know." you let your face fall to the side his hand touched you, appreciating the small gesture. Law could manipulate you however he wanted, you would gladly accept it. "I just wanted to be pretty like her. You know, be your favorite."

Law could have replied that you were the most beautiful woman there - and for him, in all the seas, but he preferred other methods to convince you. Not allowing much time for you to continue mumbling, his body pressed against yours, his hand cupped your face and his lips collided with yours. His tongue passed under your lips, causing you to open them and give Law space to take you. It was like a fight for air and to ward off all those bad feelings that night had brought you. Impetuously Law invaded your mouth, purred against your lips, finally after that horrible night he could take you.

Your hands reached his shirt and unbuttoned it button by button, throwing it to some deserted corner of the small room. Wetness accumulated in your intimacy as you allowed your hands to pass over Law's abdomen, going down until you found a hard volume. Your fingers began to press against him, drawing small patterns on the tip of his dick.

"Do you want to taste it? You know, only you can." he whispered, hearing a please escape your lips. "Get on your knees."

You promptly followed his orders. Feeling your hands itch, you placed them on his thighs and allowed your lips to run along the coarse fabric of his jeans. In your field of vision you can see two tattooed hands unbuttoning the piece without any rush. Law watched your lips change the fabric of your jeans for the black underwear that covered them.

"Are you that eager?" again, the same low tone, the same teasing behind his voice.

His cock appeared in your field of vision and in a slow counterpoint to your anxiety, your tongue just slowly slid along its entire length, from base to tip. One of your hands reached the base, giving you space to cup his balls in your lips. Law's hand that was holding him against the door went down to his cock, taking it from your lips.

"Don't be mean." He pointed the tip at you, sliding it over your lips. "Do you remember how to ask it to stop?" He took one of your hands and placed it on his leg again. Two beats: a pause for breath, three beats: stop immediately.

You just nodded, opening your mouth and batting your eyelashes in Law's direction. The innocent look, the anxiety that was clear in you, the invasion was sudden, Law had already put up with too much of your provocation. His hand joined your hair, pushing you against the wall as he thrust deep into your throat, starting slowly and quickly increasing the speed.

"Is that what you want?" the tattooed fingers got even more tangled in your hair "It's only yours, take it all in"

The air seemed increasingly rarefied and your eyes stung with some involuntary tears at the same time you could feel your panties getting even wetter and your voice producing involuntary moans, your body reacted to the grunts coming from the man above you. Your eyes met Law's and you found one of the most beautiful scenes you had ever seen. A little sweat accumulated on his face, his chest rose and fell euphorically and his eyes focused on you. As if it were still possible, Law, noticing your gaze lost in theirs, stuck his dick even deeper into your throat.

"Fucking beautiful." he murmured, taking his dick out of you and watching you catch your lost breath. With his hands still stuck in your hair, he pulled you to your feet again. "The most beautiful woman, all mine."

One of the few remaining tears ran down your face and you felt it burn even more when Law slid his tongue over your cheek, licking it and erasing it from existence. All mine his voice whispered again. Leaving his clothes - and consequently you - behind, Law walked to the bed, sitting down and looking at you from afar. Even with the distance you could still see Law lost after you sucked him. His eyes danced over your body.

"Come here, take off your clothes for me, please." damn it. Hearing Law ask you for something silly, eyes still shining from watching you suck him was a little too much for you. You walked over to him, stopping between the man's legs. The first thing you took off was your blouse, followed shortly by the skirt and panties you were wearing.

"And you still ask if you're my favorite." Law murmured something that you suspected was just his thought, still trapped in a trance.

"Am I?" you used the same teasing tone he usually used, as he had just a few minutes ago. Your legs passed through Law's body, wrapping around his waist. Using equal strength for both of you, Law pulled you and lay down on the bed. “Law…” your warning tone appeared as you saw him pull you away from his dick, towards his face.

"My favorite, my only, the most beautiful..." he listed unpretentiously "What do you need to understand?" He started kissing your thighs, which were already around his cheeks. "Let me prove it to you."

Law pulled your hips down, your pussy falling over his lips. You had to suppress a scream when you felt his tongue travel all over your vulva, stopping at your clit. His hands settled on your thighs as you tried to roll against him, looking for more friction. The suppressed screams soon began to escape your lips in low moans every time you felt him slide his tongue inside you.

Law was usually methodical, he took as long as he needed to make you cum but now it was different. You could feel your even wetter pussy while Law grunting beneath you as squeezed you even tighter and sucked your clit without worrying about the mess made on his face. The precipice seemed just seconds away when he stopped, taking you off of him and placing you back on his hips. His lips were dripping with your honey as was his chin and your legs were still shaking from the orgasm that was behind you. Law's hand went up to his hair and took off the last piece of clothing on his body: the hat, placing it on your head.

"You know you are mine, just mine, just as I am yours." his hands slid over your breasts, going down and pulling your hips, fitting your entrance to his cock. "Ride me, take what's yours."

"Fuck Law." you moaned softly, feeling every inch of him fill you.

You could feel wet, but it was never enough when Law entered you. When you reach the base of his dick, you can feel him grunting along with you, his hands tightening the skin of your ass even more as his hips press into you.

You started slowly, your hands resting on Law's chest while your hips rose and fell millimeters, not wanting to move away from the feeling of being filled by him, of having every inch of your pussy filled. As the speed increased, your moans began to echo throughout the room and one of your hands involuntarily went up to your mouth, covering it.

"No, babe." Law pulled your hand and, with the other, held your two arms behind your back. "We're not in Polar Tang, I want to be able to hear you scream, at least today."

His feet planted themselves on the bed and Law began to move his hips against yours. He thrust hard, the noise of bodies coming together was as loud as your moans and you could also hear the words coming out louder and louder from his lips.

"Your little pussy is squeezing me so much, so good." He used one of his hands to find your breast, squeezing the nipple between his fingers and hearing you scream.

"Harder, please love." the word that escaped your lips worked as fuel for Law.

The hand holding your hands let go and your body fell against his chest. One of Law's tattooed hands got tangled in your hair while the other circled your back and attached itself to your waist. Sweet whispered nothings and screams of pure pleasure echoed throughout the room, leaving your lips and falling into Law's ears like pure delight.

"Fuck, cum for me babe" Law's lips found the sensitive spot below your ear. "I want to see my girl soak me."

The words were enough for you to feel your vision turn white and your body soften in Law's arms, while you used his name as a mantra. Without waiting for you to recover, Law held you on his lap, still inside you and took you to the nearest wall, starting to thrust into you mercilessly again.

"It's too much, please."

"Just a little more." Law murmured, his face stuck in the back of your neck, biting every piece of exposed skin. "Just give me one more."

"Damn, right there." Your voice was thin and broken, almost inaudible. Law hit the right spot inside you and in your limited field of vision, you could see the red tone on Law's skin just below your nails. "L-Law! I'm feeling something... Damn Law!"

Law could feel his dick getting wet as he watched you having a squirt that from your reaction he believed was the first time. His name sounded like the hottest thing he had ever heard and when he saw your pussy gushing he couldn't control himself and came, filling you with his seed, that would be a worry for later.

"I-I..." you started to speak to even that seemed too much for you, and you just let your head fall on his shoulder.

Feeling your body weak, Law guided you back to the bed, allowing you to lie against his body. The tattooed hands drew something invisible on your skin and your breathing was labored. "The wall... the neighbors..." you tried to list, still feeling weak. When you looked up to see if Law was listening to you, you found him smiling mischievously. "What are you thinking?"

"I heard we have an interesting neighbor here at the hotel." the pieces fell into place, making your face burn in embarrassment.

"She's going to hate me, even more."

"If it helps you, she already hated you." Law explained, caressing your cheek. "In the bar, she was the one who told that guy to talk to you."

"Ah, that doesn't make me feel any better. You mean a guy only hit on me because she asked?"

"What does that mean?" He seemed indignant and you quickly tried to correct yourself.

"I was already feeling ugly, that didn't make it much better."

"Do you need one more to understand how beautiful you are?" you knew exactly what Law was telling you about and you felt your face burn with shyness. "She's just a frustrated person, don't worry about anything she told you."

"Sour, damn blonde." you mumbled, earning a laugh from Law, who whispered your name softly, catching your attention.

"You know you're the only one, right?" he asked and you nodded. "And that you are amazing and beautiful."

"You're also the only one." his eyes followed your smile, as you snuggled into him. "And incredible, beautiful, strong. If I keep listing them, I'll end up putting you to sleep." you laughed, seeing Law acquire a more serious expression. "A coin for your thought"

"I-I... I lo..." he could remember what you had called him, he knew very well the feelings he had for you, but it seemed so difficult to bring them to the surface.

He still remembered when he allowed himself to actually feel that way for someone and watch those people leave him. Law knew he couldn't bear to see you go through the same thing. Taking him out of his daydreams and the speech stuck on his lips, you reached out to reach Law's forehead and place a small kiss, before then cuddling up to him again.

"I know. And so do I." you had your own fears, your own traumas and fears, you understood his fear.

For now it would be better this way, if your love remained between the two of you.

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #requests open #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #law x you #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #mdni #smut #trafalgar one piece

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runicarbiter02 · 1 year

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Helllooo! Request are open and I'm running over here. Can I request hdc for alejandro vargas and ghost, being jealous because there crush is a little bit touching with another men. Thank youu honey.

A/N: This is definitely an interesting one! I'd be happy to write these for you, since you specifically specified them, I'll just do them for this one. :) I hope you enjoy, darling! I'm still learning how to write for Ale, so I apologize if he's a bit OOC! Also, thank you all for over 1,000 notes on my first headcanon request! I am so, so happy you all are liking the post! ~ Hannah

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

I imagine with Alejandro, this would be a slow burn friends to lovers sort of situation. You, Alejandro, and Rudy have all been friends since you all joined up together. Alejandro has always been on the flirtier side with most people, which is why whenever he flirts with you, you don't tend to think much of it. That's just who he is, right?

Los Vaqueros had just gotten a new member, a young, handsome man in his mid-twenties. He's conventionally attractive and funny, which some of the other women definitely admire, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Unfortunately - or fortunately, if you look at it a certain way - you were assigned to show him around the base and get him up to speed.

Cut to the both of you in the mess hall on base, chattering away. Alejandro sees the both of you, and his blood boils. Who does this hijo de puta think that he is?

What really pisses him off is when the young man leans in, saying something that makes you laugh and you playfully shove him away with a coy smile. Alejandro quickly storms out, furious with the young man, but furious with himself for getting so upset.

He doesn't realize you follow him out until he feels your hand on his shoulder.

"Ale? What's wrong, hermano?" If only you knew how much he hated that nickname coming from your lips.

When he turns, one look at how concerned you are, and all his frustrations come spilling from his lips. He's just about to brush it off as him being silly when you don't respond right away before a laugh is erupting from you.

"Ale, he's not into me. He's just friendly. I thought he was flirting with me earlier, but he let me know that he's no even interested in sexual stuff. He's ace," You reassure, and suddenly, Alejandro feels ridiculously stupid. But that falls aside when you stand on your toes and brush a kiss to his cheek. "Now come on, cariño, you need to eat." His eyes follow you as you return to the mess hall, and he's stunned into silence.

Maybe he feels a little less bad about getting jealous.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

This man hates his jealousy. Despises it.

But, it's a part of him nonetheless, and it's something he has to live with.

I imagine it as quiet, little things around base that really gets to him: you're a medic, a really good one at that, and the men absolutely love you for how kindly you treat them all. You have patience, but you aren't afraid to bark orders at them if they're acting out of place.

"MacTavish, if you rip your stitches one more time, I'll kick your ass into next fucking week." "Captain, I don't care if you have more paperwork to do, get your ass in bed before I drag you there myself." "Hold still or I will personally strap you to this cot myself, rookie."

Your feisty nature and take-no-shit attitude is absolutely what drew him to you initially. Cue almost a year of pining on his end, and on your end, but not to his knowledge.

The final straw that ultimately cracks his resolve is a young sergeant that is trying to flirt with you while you stitch up a bullet wound on his side. It's obvious you're just being polite as you accept his compliments and hum in response at his attempts at flirting, but it still rubs Simon the wrong way.

Simon's jealousy is quiet, boiling, settling in the center of his chest. Every touch of yours against the sergeant's skin merely stokes the flames, but he does nothing, continuing to brood in the corner. He waits until you're done, shooing the young man off with a half-assed threat of harm if he ruins his stitches. That's when you finally notice him.

"Ghost, what have I told you about lurking in my med bay?" You tease softly before taking note of the hard look in his eyes. Slowly, you put two and two together, chuckling softly. "Ah, I see. C'mere, big guy."

He isn't mad. Not at all. All he can think about is that young man, who has all he doesn't: charm, good looks, youth, and the blessing of a childhood unscarred by a demon of a father. Simon isn't so lucky.

He can't stop himself as he follows your instructions, stepping into your office and taking a seat at your desk as you close the door. You sit on top of your desk and smile down at him before you hold out your hand expectantly. He furrows his brows but gives you his hand anyway, grumbling something about how he "doesn't know where your filthy mitts have been."

As soft kisses are pressed to his knuckles, however, he goes quiet. "Silly, jealous man. Can't even see that I look at you the same way you look at me. Eyes of a hawk, my ass," You tease.

He turns every shade of red beneath his damn balaclava, and you're damn certain to tease him about it as he melts back into the seat.

Hijo de puta - Son of a bitch

Hermano - Brother

Cariño - Honey; dear

TAGLIST

@floral-force

#alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 2022 #cod mw2 #cod imagine #cod x reader #cod headcanons #runic writes

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pricegouge · 22 days

Note

hi hello just wanted to tell you that the wellies story with gaz and price is such a delight, everything about it is *chef's kiss*

I think Price would keep the hat, though, and wear it to the bar where Reader is having her date/make up date. Because then she HAS to storm up to Price and demand it back??? HOURS of handcrafting, Gaz unhelpfully being like "the color suits him :)" Price not-so-subtly delighted at ALL of this (also he does kind of like the hat. Maybe he can convince you to make him one in a different color?)

Gaz asks you to point out your date (someone who immediately clocks as ick. Like a stock broker finance bro type?) and Gaz immediately vetoes that. That guy isn't your date anymore. He and Price are! Now, about this camera they owe you....

Price in a knit fuchsia cap got me fuckin' good. Sorry this took so long! Even more sorry I'm posting unedited, but if I look at this any longer I'll blow up so here we go

(follow up to this)

The worst part is, once you see him in it, shining like a neon sign from clear across the bar, you understand completely why they'd had to unceremoniously rip it off your head that day. Even here, surrounded as he is by the general visual noise of the city and patrons who are by no means dressed to blend in, the man sticks out like a sore thumb. (Made no better for the fact that he still stands head and shoulders above all those around him, of course, but that's beside the point.) You can only imagine how garishly you'd stood out among the stretch of that green meadow, how much you'd jeopardized not only their mission but their very lives by simply being there.

Of course, that knowledge does nothing to soothe the anger that rises within you when you see the men responsible for ruining your last (better) dating prospect waltz in on your current one as if their only new objective is to ruin your night again while wearing the handmade hat you're now realizing they'd stolen from you. (You'd thought you'd misplaced it on the bus last week. One moment it was there, the next gone. Now you wonder how you could have missed either of them sitting aboard public transportation, or how long they'd been following you to now conveniently show up in at least two of the same places you were.)

You stare daggers at the two of them. John ignores you, pink cap bobbing through the crowd as he makes his way to the bar. Kyle posts up at a booth and smirks at you openly, unabashedly. He's impossibly more attractive outside of the grease paint and twig mass. You ignore the delightful flip your belly does when he clocks the way you take in the breadth of him, how he tests the seams of his button down, and his smirk turns to the kind of smile that should require a legal registry.

"What are you looking at?"

You startle a bit when a big head floats into your field of vision, Jeremiah's frown completely obscuring the much better view you'd just been staring down. He swivels to look behind himself, head rotating like an automatic, unmanned security camera. Observing, but not seeing anything.

As far as prospects had gone, Jeremiah had been one of the least favorite matches you'd made on your little dating app; but after the failure from a few weeks past you'd been getting desperate, and his nice hair combined with his clever sales pitch tongue had eventually wooed you after enough messaging. Unfortunately, thirty seconds after meeting him in person you'd realized your initial instinct had indeed been right when he'd tried negging your outfit in the same breath he'd used to greet you at the door. He hadn't even chosen a good place to meet. With the way he dressed and spoke, you'd almost been looking forward to the novelty of some swanky bar uptown, but the pub he'd given you the name of was barely better than a hole in the wall. A dying fern stood in the corner, its only source of sustenance the light up dart board on its right, and the empty mugs surrounding it, the tacky puddle in its water pan suggesting it was a popular place to pour one's dregs out into. The sticky table felt like a fly trap, suggesting either years of buildup which had grown resistant to bleach, or a general incompetence on management's part as to how proper cleaning worked. You've no idea why you'd even stayed. Perhaps just a desire to stay out of the house. Part of you knows it's actually a desire to get laid so strong you're willing to overlook his shortcomings so long as you can clamp a hand over his mouth later and ride him until you're satisfied, but you don't want to look too closely at that part of you.

"Apologies. There's a man over there I recognize."

"Oh? Should I be worried?" His expression is genial enough when he asks, but his eyes keep something slightly colder at bay. Annoyance, perhaps. Not jealousy, you don't think. Not yet, at least. Probably hasn't actually clocked Kyle yet.

You should soothe him, you know. Coo reassurances, stutter through excuses and make up lies about just knowing them from your uni days or something. But then you remember Kyle's clever tongue, his blatant flirting. You remember John's heavy hands on you and the way they'd joked about keeping you all night. You're annoyed with them, more so when you remember how they'd left you high and dry after handing you off to the wolves back at base to tear into and question. But they're here now, have been for days, potentially, you're reminded when John ducks his head back into the booth, the subtle streaks of tinsel in the yarn you'd used glowing under the pendant light. He's got three drinks with him, sends you a casual wink when he spots you staring.

"Yes."

Jeremiah sputters. "Sorry?"

"Yes. You should be worried," you clarify casually. "Excuse me."

The boys aren't subtle about watching you as you approach, though Gaz leans into his captain's space to whisper something in his ear which makes his mustache twitch distractedly. It takes you a minute to pick your way over to them. You don't have much of a game plan beyond demanding your hat back, and hopefully garnering some insight as to why they're following you, but that doesn't explain the thrill you feel when their eyes trail you, or the way your mouth runs dry when you realize you're going to have to talk to them this time, no convenient excuse of situational silence keeping you from putting your foot in your mouth. You tell yourself you're at least not likely to drift off under one of them this time, and then suppress a heavy swallow when you realize you don't actually want that to be true. It's why your voice isn't quite as strong as you'd hoped when you approach their table, skipping formalities and demanding to know what they're doing here.

It's like they can smell your apprehension, John content to just keep smirking at you while Kyle responds with the kind of cocky voice you would hate on anyone else, but just serves to remind you how much the tone is earned when he uses it. "Can't a captain treat his favorite sergeant to a drink after work anymore?"

It's the phrasing that catches your attention, momentarily distracting you from reaching out and ripping your hat off John's head. It's too familiar to Jeremiah's own proposition for the evening, too jarring when used in relation to military work. "You've been following me," you state bluntly, wondering if it's possible they've even bugged your phones.

"Only a lot," Kyle agrees cheekily.

"Why?"

"Had to make sure you weren't going 'round telling everyone what you'd seen, petal," John grumbles, voice just as deep and dark as you remember. It's hard to hear him over the din of the pub. You tell yourself that's why you lean into him a bit when he speaks, though you turn it into a snatching motion easily enough.

"That why you stole my hat?"

John deflects you casually, turning your hand away somehow both deftly and gently. His grip changes once he has you under control, turning instead to guide you into the booth next to him. His arm finds the seat back behind you, but you stubbornly remain leaning forward, refusing to ease into him this time.

"Cap didn't steal it," Gaz corrects, eyes lingering on the captain's hand where he still grips your wrist. "I did."

It's hard to accept the fact that Kyle could ever escape your notice, but you suppose he's earned his position in life for a reason. "Right." You round on John, "So did you lose a bet?"

The captain chuckles. His thumb smoothes along the heel of your hand and then is gone, tipping the amber whiskey of his drink absently. "Won one, actually. Gaz here wanted to be the one to wear it."

"Would've looked better with my complexion," the other man reasons, batting his pretty eyes at you exaggeratedly. Far behind him, you spot your date sputtering indignantly to a waitress, the poor girl's face clearly disinterested. So much for your shoe-in. You refuse to acknowledge why that doesn't bother you as much as it would have even just five minutes ago.

"Yeah, well, if I only got to wear the things I wear better, I'd be walking around naked," John gripes goodnaturedly. "Isn't that right, flower?"

Kyle saves you from sputtering out an answer by sighing wistfully. "If only."

John smirks indulgently at him and you blink away, feeling like an outsider when you see the older man's hand disappear under the table, movement suggesting he's rubbing Kyle's leg. You try not to remember how it felt to have those heavy hands on you. "Can I get my hat back, please?"

"Well, at least you remembered your manners this time," John grumbles. You'd try snatching it off his head again just for the commentary, if you weren't becoming increasingly certain it would land you sprawled across his lap.

"Where you rushing off to anyway?" Kyle adds. He slides the third drink in front of John your way. "Drink with us."

You eye the fruity, fluorescent monstrosity before you skeptically. They don't seem the type to meet barely legal ladies out for a drink in a tiny place like this, but you can't imagine they'd had anyone else in mind when John had ordered whatever this was. "You expecting someone younger?"

John's low laugh makes his mustache twitch. "Heard once that a good rule of thumb if you don't know someone's drink order, is to try and match their outfit." He ducks his chin, looking you over from under his brow. In theory, it should seem more judgemental than appraising, but you still feel like he's assessing your outfit by removing it first.

Self consciously, you run your hand over the flowery blue dress you have on, distracting yourself from thinking too hard about what it meant that he'd bought you a drink. You suppose the color is a bit electric, but the way it fits more than makes up for its flashiness. Or at least, you'd thought it did. Now, seeing it paired with some stomach turning blue curaçao concoction, you feel much less certain about that. "You heard wrong. Besides, I can't stay. I'm on a date," you sniff. You probably shouldn't drink anything handed to you by men you knew were stalking you anyway.

Kyle shrugs agreeably, swapping your drink for his simple rum and coke as he asks who you're out with. You eye it warily, but spot the smudge of Kyle's own lips on the edge so you figure it's safe enough to drink, though you make a point of wiping it off, sneering at Kyle when he laughs at you.

"Stock broker Jeremiah," you recite, trying to keep the jeer from your tone. You motion back behind yourself. "Over there."

"Stock broker?" John repeats, voice so thick the words fall from his lips like smoke. You think you spot a smirk hidden in his chops.

"That your type, luv?"

"Not particularly," you admit. "But he'll have to do, seeing as the last one didn't take too kindly to being stood up."

Kyle tuts, tone too amused to be sympathetic. "Didn't believe you'd been laid up?"

"Should've had him call us, flower. We could've vouched for you," John suggests. Somehow, you know introducing these two to any prospective partners would be a terrible idea.

Still, it sounds amusing.

You shrug, wishing you had a beer bottle to peer the label off of. "Jeremiah makes good money," you offer, the only thing you can really remember from Jeremiah's profile. John hums, lower than the din of the room. Kyle's face is too blank, the same strict discipline he used with his cheek glued to his rifle. Briefly, you're back under John, the din of the surrounding crowd swallowed up by your twin heartbeats. Your eyes flick between the two, take in the tight control of their expressions. It would probably fool most, but you've spent your fair share of time studying the minutiae of faces, the way muscles twitch under stimuli no matter how properly trained the model. Even dead tissue will contract when properly motivated. "He's just bought me a new camera, in fact."

Gaz scoffs. John's eyes narrow. The two exchange sidelong glances and you sip your drink. You'd believed John when he'd said he'd replace your camera, but after being split up at base he'd never located you again and no one had been very forthcoming with information as to how you could contact your new friends to collect. A week after the incident, a cheap, basic camera and a base model macro lens had appeared on your step, the packaging cold and impersonal, shipped direct from the warehouse. No new boots ever came. The camera hadn't been anywhere near as nice as the one you'd lost, but it wasn't like there was a calling card you could air your grievances to so you'd cut your losses and just thanked whoever was listening that you'd even made it out of that valley alive. Now, however, watching the men who'd promised to take care of everything have their pride bruised by some asshole in a button up too expensive to deign resting his silken elbows on the dirty table of the bar he'd decided you were fit for, the weeks of frustration almost seemed worth it. And so what if it wasn't true anyway?

"Excuse me."

Your date's sudden appearance nearly makes you jump out of your skin, the prospect of introducing him to these men suddenly far less appealing when John rumbles, "Don't think I will."

Jeremiah sneers at him before turning to you. "I'm heading out. Don't think this -," he motions between the two of you, lets his finger swirl around the table to include the boys when the motion peters out, "- is for me. Have a good one, yeah?"

"Oh, um, okay. Sor-."

John stops you. "Don't apologize to him, petal. It's him there owes you one."

"And why would I need to apologize?"

"Existing?" Kyle suggests.

"Wasting her time?" John tacks on.

"Insulting my dress," you decide.

Kyle's tsk noise draws your attention. When you look, he's got those exaggeratedly huge eyes darting between you and your date. "When it fits you like that?" he clarifies, making you blush.

"Right wanker," John agrees. His voice is still playful, but the look he's leveling Jeremiah with is anything but.

"It's - it's -. It's blue!" your date sputters, waving at you as if your offense should be obvious.

John leans close, mustache tickling your ear. "Sounds like a man who can't appreciate a good pair of obnoxiously yellow wellies."

"You threw my wellies in the creek," you counter, too amused to muster much anger.

"Bought you new ones," Kyle offers and you narrow your eyes at him because, following you or not, there's no way they could know -.

"What size?"

Kyle just grins. "On the first date?"

"On our first date," Jeremiah reminds you.

You ignore them both, rounding on John. "And you ripped off my hat!" To illustrate your point, you attempt to snatch it back again, but the captain ducks it just as easily as he did the first time.

"I'll give it back when you make me a new one."

"Wait, I stole it fair and square," Kyle counters. John doesn't dodge him as easily, the silver streaks of his dark, mussed hair catching the light just like your yarn did. He doesn't even bother trying to snatch it back, watching with fond eyes as Kyle replaces his hat with your own. He'd been right, he does wear it better.

"If I make you one too, will you give it back?"

"Fat chance," the sergeant scoffs, and with an expert toss, he saucers his own hat onto your head, grinning like a fool when you let John tug it more firmly on.

A scoff behind you draws their attention. John glares over your shoulder again, but Kyle just waves, cheeky enough to elicit another humorless laugh. Byt the time you turn around, your date's already on his way. You're not particularly upset by it, figuring even if… whatever this is… doesn't pan out to anything, at least you'll have spent the evening in better company than originally planned.

The boys are both staring at you when you look back. You don't bother acting disappointed, though you know there's a version of this evening that sees you spitting mad, being soothed and gentled like a finicky horse with big hands and hushed tones. As appealing as it sounds, you'd rather spend your time actually talking, making up for your first meeting with them when you couldn't do much beyond gripe about your position, or whine about being bored. So instead you shrug, and the boy's smirks turn leery, and you suppress a shiver when Kyle leans across the table toward you, voice low when he asks what kind of camera 'the suit' bought you.

You panic in your response a bit, all higher end models you've had your eyes on for weeks fleeing your brain. Instead you tell them about the cheap thing you'd received in the mail and John scoffs.

"Got you something much better," he promises, pulling his phone from one of his many pockets and flicking through it. When he turns it toward you, an email confirmation tells him his package has been delivered, the details of the order showing the next model up from the very one he'd thrown in the brook. The description of the lens is cut off at the bottom, but you've no doubt you'll be happy enough when you see the pricing details. "You'll forgive the delay, of course. Man's gotta do some research, after all."

You'd even forgive the wellies continuing to go unreplaced, though in your excitement you forget to express that. "Of course. Of course! Thank you so much, John!" You're still gushing gratitudes when you slip out of the booth, turning to excuse yourself so quickly you even forget to snatch your hat back.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To go get -?" You stall, taking in their confused - even slightly miffed - expressions. "Look, if that package sits on my stoop too long, my neighbors will -."

Kyle laughs, crooks his finger at you. It's embarrassing how quickly you oblige, slipping right back into your seat just because his eyes are too warm and inviting to disappoint.

John's voice is much closer than you remember it being before you'd stood, the low rumble in his chest a physical thing you feel against your shoulder when he leans close. "No need to worry, petal. It's back at mine. Safe as houses."

"Didn't have your address," Kyle winks.

It's weird, the way you can laugh at jokes about being followed. You decide not to think about it too much. "Sounds more like an elaborate plot to get me back at yours."

"Well, we're unused to not getting our mark," John confesses, "had to have another shot at it."

Kyle's cheeky when he responds, his boyish grin enough to have you settling against John before you even know what you're about. "For the record, I never did take a shot the first time."

#asks #the wellyboot incident #pricegaz x reader

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fushiguho · 2 months

Note

hello love 💗

i fear im in dire need of more of your geto… u write him so perfectly i cant get enough….. thinking ab a sweet bf sugu who gradually becomes more & more jealous throughout the relationship when he starts to realize that other people can also find his gf attractive lols

Hi beautiful, I'm blushing. Your wish is literally my command! I present to you… *drum roll please* Jealous!Getou

Content Warnings: Overstimulation, Getou has a filthy mouth, possessive sex, exhibitionism, breeding, spitting

Word Count: 2.5k

What’s worse—a jealous man or a possessive one?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･

It started sweet and at first, he truly was kind—smiling gently with a disapproving shake of his head to ward off stray eyes or a reassuring hand resting on your lower back as you stroll the aisles of the grocery store. And sometimes even a fleeting kiss to your cheek with a pang of underlying possessiveness. But it didn't take long for Getou to realize that being kind simply won't suffice for a woman like you. Is his kindness mistaken for weakness? Are you just so irresistible that men can't help but to throw themselves at you regardless of his presence? Why doesn't anyone get it?

He's gotten mean now. The sweet, well-mannered man you once knew who was respectfully handling wandering eyes and catcalls is now getting into fist fights and verbal arguments with creeps in public. In the beginning, Getou swore he wouldn't let it get to this point—swore that he wouldn't allow his jealousy to create lapses in judgment but how can he not? You're just so fucking pretty.

It started sweet. That is until Geotu is reminded of the fact that other people can also perceive your beauty whether he likes it or not. The literal existence of the notion makes him physically sick. He’s definitely not stupid. Unfortunately, he’s blatantly aware of the way men think and stare. They nearly drool in your presence, mouths dry at the mere thought of a chance with you. And soon, his reassuring hands turned into possessive groping and his cordial smiles into verbal threats because no one seems to fucking get it. You’re his. Is that part not obvious?

You gasp at the hand that unceremoniously grips the fat of your ass. “Sugu stop! They’ll see my panties,” You squeal as you bat him away, pulling at the ruffled hem of your mini jean skirt, “can’t get so jealous all the time!”

“Nuh uh, let them see. I should just fuck you right here… give ‘em a taste of what they can’t fucking have.” He scowls, shooting daggers at the imbeciles across the tavern who won’t stop ordering you drinks. “Huh, what do you think, baby? Think they’d like to watch me bend you over this bar, pull your fucking skirt up like this and just fuck you?” His lewd tone makes your tummy knot in arousal and you can only gasp when he sneakily grazes his warm palm along your clothed cunt. Getou leans in close, his steady breaths right against your ear, “They’re staringggggg.” He hums melodically, gingerly taking your face in his hand to direct your gaze on the two young gentlemen whose faces now blush with embarrassment.

“Sugu,” You warn as you attempt to wriggle your way away from him. “be nice, okay? They’ve just never seen such a beautiful, grown woman like myself. You don't see something like this everyday, love.” You jestingly gloat as you bat your lashes at him sweetly, attempting to lull his frazzled nerves. The dramatic roll of his eyes makes you giggle. You tend to give everyone the benefit of the doubt even when they truly don’t deserve it. “Maybe they’re curious.”

“Well, I don’t like their curiosity. It’s rude.” Getou mutters as he’s pulling you off the bar stool to stumble behind him. You hardly even have time to protest as he’s taking you by the hand and dragging you out of the bar, but not before flipping off the two light haired men. He even made sure they were still watching when he pushed up the hem of your skirt, baring your plush cheeks before roughly smacking the exposed skin and sticking out a teasing tongue, serving almost as a sick reminder of his possessiveness and your unavailability.

“What the fuck was that?” You press as the two of you exit the noticeably warm tavern. “You have got to control yourself!”

He stalks closer as his hands reach for you. “I can’t, okay? I can’t fucking help it.” He admits, dropping his arms at his sides in defeat. “You saw the way they stared—the way everyone stares—it pisses me off, baby like they’re fucking with me... I swear I really can’t help myself. My mind—I just… I just get so fucking crazy, baby I don't know why.” He babbles while carding a frustrated hand through his long, sable hair. He's completely succumbing to his irrepressible jealousy and possessiveness.

The sweet, reassuring smile that mars your lips as you beam up at him makes his cock twitch. “I’m yours. You have to know that at least, right?” You question in a hum as you attempt to quell his eminent rage.

Getou nods down at you, pressing his forehead to yours with closed eyes. He exhales his last few breaths of seething anger before briskly taking you by the hand and leading back into the tavern as if an idea flickered to life in his head. You follow closely as he pushes past the blonde men, past the bar, and into the small, dingy bathroom that’s tucked at the end of a drab hallway. You don’t even question when he pulls you up on the sink, his breath ragged as he fiddles to unbuckle the clasp of his belt.

He can't help the painful swell of his balls when he lets his jealousy get the best of him. Despite all of your protests, you love when he gets like this—completely feral, carnal, aggressive. Your heart slams against your chest as he pushes his trousers down his thighs, then goes his dark green briefs, finally baring his stiff, swollen cock. A gasp slips from your mouth when he roughly pulls you toward the edge of the sink, situating himself between your welcoming thighs.

“Public indecency is a crime.” You taunt breathlessly, lolling your head back as Getou kisses at your neck, his sloppy tongue already licking and swirling against your sweet skin.

“Oh, I don’t think you’ve ever cared about that,” He reminds, his warm breath tickling the sensitive flesh of your neck, “I mean look how easily you spread your legs for me already. You don’t think I know when my sweet girl wants to get fucked?” He almost moans when he pushes the sodden fabric of your panties aside, revealing your slick, messy folds. “Fuuuck, look at her.” Two, thick digits are sliding between your slit before sinking inside, eliciting a helpless whine from your gaped mouth. “You get so sloppy for me when I get crazy… you love me like this.”

Your hips are bucking to chase his hand, back arching into his possessive touch. "I love that you're mean to everyone but me," You whisper, lips falling open when he brings his hand to your face, prompting you to taste yourself. A groan drags from deep in his chest when your sweet tongue lolls out, wrapping around the length of his fingers so that you can suck them clean with a pleasureful hum. "love that you're so crazy about me too."

"I'd kill for you, baby. You understand that, right?" He’s pushing the fat head of his cock against your puffy clit as his gaze holds yours crudely. “Anyone you want… you point the finger, I’ll pull the trigger.”

You nod to him meekly, not a single doubt in your mind. Soft breaths drag from your lips as you pant for him, absentmindedly spreading yourself impossibly wider, wordlessly begging for him to take you now. Obeying your silent needs, Getou begins to sink the tip of his cock inside of you with a push of his thumb, watching with hooded eyes as your pussy drools down his length.

“Hah—ohhhh, f— fuck…” his breath catches in his throat as he draws his hips back before slowly pummeling forward, once, twice, “my pretty pussy takin’ me so well, my god… look how greedily you suck me in, baby.” thrice.

“Suguuu!” You mewl as he finally begins to fuck into you, his hips bucking wantonly to meet yours, heavy cock dragging along your soft walls, beckoning your inevitable release. “So deep… fillin’ me up so good, Sugu. Love your cock, hmm—you feel s’good.” Your brain is mush, you hardly hear yourself as you babble.

He mocks you, his voice in a higher pitch as he moans out, “Yeah? Is it so deep, baby? You feel good?” He chuckles darkly, pressing a fat thumb to your clit to rub at the swollen bundle of nerves, ripping a guttural moan from your throat. “Yeaaahhh, baby moan loud for me just like that. Let me hear how good you feel… sound so prettyyyy fa’meeee.” He drawls, cooing sweetly as his contradicting thrusts pull the nastiest little sounds out of you.

You’re getting so sloppy. Tongue falling out of your slacked jaw to hang haphazardly, drool spilling messily onto your supple tits, staining your shirt. Getou wastes no time as he’s leaning down to chase your dribbling saliva with his own tongue, languidly licking across the expanse of your chest before pulling your breasts out of your cropped tank top. Soon, he’s latching his lips to one of your hardened nipples, humming in satisfaction as you succumb to his touch.

A warm hand is slipping under the small of your back to maintain your pretty little arch and now your chest presses against Getou’s. From the abut closeness, you can’t miss his deep hums of pleasure or the way he hisses through clenched teeth at the feeling of your walls pulsing around his drooling cock. You definitely don’t miss the way he slots his lips against yours, his unceremonious tongue immediately pushing inside your mouth to taste you. He kisses you sloppily, guttural moans dragging from his open mouth and into yours. You quickly match his feverish pace, huffing and sighing against his lips with growing urgency whilst he holds you close, bullying his possessive cock deeper and deeper. The subtle exchange of saliva makes your stomach knot, sending you spiraling toward to your sweet release. You hardly even realize the obscene roll of yours hips as you fuck him back, meeting his harsh thrusts halfway.

“Y-yes, sweetheart. Holy shit,” he gapes as he wills himself away from your kiss-swollen lips to admire your fucked-out mien, “yes, fuck me back… take what you need from me.” He’s parting your lips with the pad of thumb, cock twitching at the way your mouth easily falls open for him. You allow him to push the digit into your mouth, eyes fluttering shut as you suck sweetly. “Let me spit on that pretty tongue,” instinctively, your jaw’s falling slack with a loll of your tongue, the two of you sharing a lewd moan as he drops a glob of saliva on the center of your plush tongue with a plap, “swallow.”

His usual dark, round pupils turn into literal hearts when you do as you’re told before sticking out your bare tongue as proof of your resolute obedience. His groan of approval before leaning back down to kiss you like before is what has you gushing down the length of his cock with no warning at all. You’ve always been so obedient. So incredibly willing to do whatever is asked of you. You’re such a good fucking girl for him and he physically cannot get enough of you.

“Such a good fucking girl taking my spit ‘n cumming so hard for me like that… only for me though, right?” You nod to him, eyes screwing shut from pure overstimulation. “No one’s ever gonna have you like this, you hear me? Not those blonde idiots out there… not even your dumb little ex… no one.” He punctuates his points with sharp thrusts of his hips. “And do not just nod. Use your big girl words ‘n tell me you fucking understand the words comin’ out of my mouth.”

“Yesssss—mhm, Sugu baby. Yes, I understand! M’yours, ‘kay? Only yours… there will never be anyone else.” You cry, barely able to make sense of your words, far too brain dead to comprehend anything anymore.

“Yeaaaah, say I’m the only cock that can make you feel like this.” He’s moaning profusely, his already taut grip tightening impossibly as he pummels toward his looming orgasm.

“Only your c-cock makes me feel this good, Sugu! No one else… no one’ll ever make me cum like you do,” you’re whining like a broken record, tears of overwhelming pleasure threatening to spill down your sweat-ridden face.

“That’s right, baby… mhm, m’gonna cum so much—fuuucckk. Where does my good girl want my cum? In your mouth? On that pretty face? Inside of you?” He queries as his pistoling hips grow sloppier. His cock even slips out a couple times and pushes against your swollen clit from his rough, haphazard thrusts.

“Inside…” you blush, your cheeks growing hot with slight embarrassment. He always manages to turn you into this—a cock-drunk slut whose only purpose is to take and take and take. But truthfully, you wouldn’t trade it for a damn thing.

Getou smiles wickedly as he leans in, “Yeah? Is that where you want it? Want me to fill that pretty little pussy up with my cum? Get you fuckin’ pregnant?” His face is mere millimeters as he rasps debauched words of praise and filthy, timbre moans. Getou’s always had a nasty mouth—always been so openly vocal for you, sharing any and every lewd thought that crosses his sick mind. It’s one of things you love most about him—the fact that he’s so unfeigned and candid and frank in every possible facet.

You nod up at him dumbly and his hips stutter, eventually stilling completely before he pulls you close. His fat cock twitches inside of you, releasing several, warm spurts of cum deep inside your womb. His groans are feral. He can't stop himself as he begins to lazily thrust into you again, fucking his seed impossibly deeper. Desperate hands grasp at the fabric of his crewneck sweatshirt, attempting to ground yourself as you hold him close.

You’re not here, not really. Poor head full of cotton as he pummels his cock in and out of your sloppy hole, his cum slowly spilling onto the counter beneath. You don’t even register your second orgasm until your eyes are crossing and you’re babbling incoherent pleads and whimpers of his name.

“M’cumming, S-sugu! Fuck, t’soo much… too much!” You’re crying. Fat, salty tears of rapture sear down your flushed cheeks, coating your face in a pretty sheen. He leans in to kiss them away, savoring the briny twinge of your sweat and tears.

“Aweeee, is my good girl crying so pretty for me from my cock? Is it too much? Too sensitive?” He’s cooing and you nod, wriggling away from his taut grip to push him away with a little more force than intended. He lets you shove into his chest, stumbling backwards as a crooked, toothless grin mars his wet lips. Getou is actually feral. If you don’t tell him to stop, he’ll literally fuck you until the only thing your poor brain can remember is the burning stretch of his cock as it drags along your sticky walls.

“You’re fucking crazy, Suguru.” You breathe, your chest heaving as you eye him.

He shrugs lazily as he tucks himself back into his trousers, his sick grin only growing wider. He knows he’s crazy. You know he’s crazy. So really, are you surprised?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･

Jealousy is a disease, get well soon.

Hey, you! Did you like this? Click here for more!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen smut #jujutsu geto #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x you #getou x reader #jjk getou #geto x you

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utterlyotterlyx · 6 months

Note

Hiii <3 Could you do number 4 from the prompt list with Eris? It's my first time asking for a prompt or anything so i hope this isn't rude. 😅

Aw my loveeeee it isn't rude! Request your little heart out <3

I've already done 4 but I'll do it again for you with a different spin on it.

Can't Keep My Hands To Myself

Modern!Eris x Reader

Summary - It's no secret that Eris has always wanted you, and now he has the perfect excuse to get up close and personal.

Warnings - slight pining, some fluff, swearing, hand fetish

The sun bounced off of the hood of Cassian's car, and if you looked closer you could have sworn you could see wisps of steam rising from the matte black finish.

Folding your arms over your chest, you huffed, already knowing what was coming as soon as you'd point out a certain problem.

It had been Elain's idea to go to the coast that day, mainly so that you could all go to the theme park that ran along the beach, all being yourself, Elain and Lucien, Nesta and Cassian, and Eris. The latter of which was leaning against the hood of Cassian's vehicle with a sly grin written on his lips, sunglasses low on his nose, and hands bundled into his pockets.

Eris Vanserra was the bane of your existence, the cocky son of some noble lord in England who had moved to your state for college and had set an unfortunate eye on you. The heir could have anyone he wanted, but he was too busy chasing you to notice.

Eris had crashed one too many of your dates, and when you had made it clear that he needed to stop being an alphahole, he would slyly quip that none of the men you allowed into your life deserved you. He would always show his face at Elain and Lucien's apartment when you were there, which made you certain that one of them, probably Lucien, was sending him updates whenever you would show up. Eris stuck to your side when the entire circle decided to go out, whether that be bowling or dinner, or even clubbing, Eris was always reluctant to leave your side.

Possessive bastard.

You had lost count of how many times exactly you had denied his advances. It wasn't that you weren't attracted to him, you'd be foolish not to be, but you didn't really fancy ensuing a relationship with a future lord, you quite liked your life the way it was.

You majored in architecture, you had always appreciated the beauty of buildings and landscapes, you had travelled Europe and spent weeks in Paris where you sketched and redesigned buildings until your heart was full and bursting with inspiration. There was nothing you couldn't create.

Life as a lady didn't appeal to you, but life as an architect travelling the world and creating masterpieces very much did.

So, you made it your mission to deter the heir in whatever way you could, from cold shoulders to harsh quips, but it only seemed to spur him on more.

Eris stood before you, red hair perfectly styled into pushed back waves, looking far too good in his black jeans and open collared black shirt, a thin chain hung around his neck which matched the bracelet on his wrist, rings littered his fingers and you found your gaze drifting to his hands, hands you had thought about often when you were alone. You imagined them running through your hair and pulling at it, you imagined them around your throat, you imagined his fingers drifting along your thighs and gripping the skin there.

It was so sinful how much you thought of Eris' hands.

The door opened behind you and you rolled your eyes at the Archeron sisters who walked ahead of both Cassian and Lucien, who both looked exhausted from their bickering already.

Unfurling your arms from your chest, you pulled down the edge of your tennis skirt and tucked in a loose section of the deep green polo you adorned, "About time," you told them, "I'm baking out here."

"I know a place that could cool you down," Eris drawled from behind you, and you turned your head slightly to see him at your shoulder, looking down on you with his usual longingly seductive eye, "You, me, the Swiss alps on skis."

"Sounds positively awful," you smiled sickly sweet at him before moving your attention elsewhere, "I also hate to state the obvious but there are only five seats in Cass' car, and there's six of us," you motioned between the circle you had all formed and shrugged.

"What if you-"

You held your hand up in front of Eris' face, shushing him into silence, "If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you."

Cassian threw his head back and laughed, a howling one that filled you with pride as he walked to the driver side of his car, "Hate to break it to you Princess, but you don't have a choice."

"Why me?! Surely it makes more sense for Elain and Lucien to cuddle up?"

Elain ticked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, flinging the passenger door open, "It's my birthday so no, plus Lucien injured his knee at baseball practice so he needs to be able to stretch it out. Sorry, Y/N," Elain wiggled her eyebrows at you and dipped into the car, no doubt securing her spot in the middle seat.

Scowling, you turned to Eris who had never looked happier, fluttering your eyes in annoyance, you pointed at him, "Don't get any ideas, Vanserra."

Eris threw his hands up in mock surrender but the smirk didn't leave his lips as he spoke, "Wouldn't dream of it, y/l/n."

It took you a few moments to become settled in his lap, and you cursed yourself for allowing yourself to be friends with bright and shiny Elain, if you hadn't then you wouldn't be sat on some heirs lap, nestled on his thighs like some kind of trophy.

As soon as you were comfortable, you propped your feet on Elain's lap which she was happy to hold since you drew the short straw, and you leaned back onto the doorframe, half on the body of the interior and half on Eris.

His scent was earthy, wafts of pine and freshly blown out matches, you knew he smelled good, but you didn't realise how much.

Eris draped one of his arms over your legs and the other around your waist, and you couldn't exactly bark at him to fuck off when they were the only two places that his hands could go. His fingers delicately danged off of your thighs, his fingertips lightly brushing against your skin with every bump in the road, the coolness of his bracelet clashing against the warmth of your skin.

If only his fingers could go a little higher, and just grab the flesh of your thigh...

No, y/n.

Elain had convinced the car to play a game, a game that you and Eris had quickly denied, you were both quite happy with the silence. That is until you felt him frown and lean over slightly to peer at something, his fingers drifted along the hem of your skirt and he lifted it slightly to take a peek.

Your gaze found him, his russet eyes darkened with intrigue, "I didn't know you had a tattoo," he hummed, allowing his eyes to trace along the swirls of black ink that created an arrangement of delicately drawn roses and geometric shapes that encased your entire hip.

Cassian's car hit a bump and you jolted on Eris' lap, his arms instinctively wrapped around you to keep you in place as your head hit the roof of the car, "Sorry, y/n. These roads are awful," Cassian apologised, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Nesta's jeaned thigh, rubbing soft circles into the fabric whilst she idly read her book in the front passenger seat.

If that were you, your soul would no doubt be going feral.

Then you felt it, you felt his had travel from your waist to your unbound hair, he ran his fingertips along your scalp and rested his palm on the top of your head, "Are you okay?"

It took you a moment to reply, trying to control the shivers that spread in your soul like wildfire at his touch in the place you had dreamt of, "Yeah, 'm good," your tone was relaxed as he worked his fingertips into the crown of your head, kissing away any pain from the jolting force that had pushed against it.

"Do you like that?" Eris purred, and luckily no one was paying attention to either of you, Nesta was reading, Cassian was driving, and Elain and Lucien were looking out of the window of the travelling car talking about whatever animals they saw in the clouds.

"It might feel nice," you admitted bashfully, knowing you couldn't lie to the sly fox whose eyes always found you no matter how far apart you were in a room.

Eris let out a low hum, tilting his head to the side as his fingers slid from your scalp and rested on the back of your neck, "You're a touch starved little thing, aren't you?"

"No," it came out a little harder than what you had intended it to, but he wasn't wrong, especially when he was the reason that you were so touch starved and basking in his affection.

Eris chuckled, seeing straight through you as always, as his hand ghosted down your spine whilst his other found your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, smirking as you wiggled on his lap, "Careful sweetheart, you have no idea how close I am to losing it," his voice was a rough whisper in your ear, he knew exactly what effect he had on you.

"I can't help it."

"I know, you have no idea the effect you have on me," his finger grazed down the earring that dangled against the curve of your jaw.

"Oh?"

Eris hummed, "One date, y/n. It's all I ask."

"Eris..."

His digits slipped between your thighs and he traced circles into the skin he found there, "Just one. Let me show you the life we can live together. Please?"

You weren't sure if it was his deep tone or his hands on your body that made your mind foggy, but he had convinced your head and heart to agree. Moving your head to meet his eye, you narrowed your own and pursed your lips, "Fine. One date. Make it worth my time, Vanserra."

Eris' whisky amber eyes glistened in the sunlight, "I think you forget how well I know you sweetheart. You're not a coffee date girl, or a movie date girl, you're not a hiker either. You're a dreamer, I see you all of the time looking at the stars, I see the heavens in your art, I see the sky in your eyes. I think I know the perfect way to make sure you never entertain anyone other than me."

The confidence he radiated made your thighs clench together, an act that didn't go unnoticed by him as his eyes darkened again with desire, he licked his lips, throwing his head back as you squirmed on his thighs again and did his best to suppress the moan bubbling in his throat.

"One chance, Vanserra. Make the most of it."

Eris straightened his posture and winked at you, letting his hands roam freely over your back and thighs, "One chance is all I need."

Authors Note

Just a short little drabble - I did a 13 hour shift today and your girl is TIRED.

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hoejosatoru · 2 months

Text

(Un)Lucky

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Endo. Readers skin color, hair color/texture unspecified

Summary: When a Bofurin member swoops in to save you from some creepy men, you think it's you lucky day. However, he has a little secret and a sinister plan

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: dub con but leaning more into noncon (reader resists a bit but ends up submitting, but it is clear that Endo does not care about the consent). If that makes you uncomfy I recommend skipping this one. Endo is a little rough (grabbing, pulling hair, pinning against wall), public sex, degradation, blood/tasting blood, dirty talk, fingering, PIV sex, cream pie, Endo is a jerk

The only sound that accompanied your walk home was the click clack of your heels against pavement. It was late into the night and the streets were empty, just a few blocks between you and your cozy bed. You'd been out with your friends, who were keen on staying out a few hours more, but you were wiped and decided to cut out early. They urged you to get an Uber, but the weather was nice. It was early fall, that perfect time of year where the days are comfortably warm, but the nights haven't chilled. You figured you should enjoy it before the temperatures plunge.

It wasn't a great idea, given the area you lived. Makochi was a town on the mend, but there were still seedy people around. You convinced yourself that you were protected, that you wouldn't ever get so unlucky as to bump into those who seek to do you harm. Well, unfortunately, your luck had run out.

"What do we have here?" a man questions, elbowing his friend. They had nearly knocked you over rounding the corner.

"Excuse me," you muttered, trying to step around them, but the men didn't budge.

"Aw don't run off," the other man said, "The night is young. Why don't you hang out with us?"

"No thanks," you tried to get around them again, but this time the man stepped fully in front of you. Your heart started to race, realizing that they weren't going to let you go.

"Don't be a bitch. We are going to show you a good time. What you think you're too good for us?" the friend sneered. They were getting agitated, which you knew was bad news for you. You were trying to assess if you could get away, but not with two men hunting you down. And not in these stupid shoes. You cursed yourself for opting for heels.

Suddenly, a third voice cut in. "Can't you tell when a girl's not into you? Pathetic." You whipped around, finding a man in a green jacket behind you. Relief flooded you as you recognized the jacket as a Bofurin one. Your luck had changed.

"Fuck off, this doesn't involve you," the first man spat.

"If you're gonna run your mouth like that at me, it certainly does," the bofurin replied, stepping between you and the two men. The first one swung at him, missing by a mile. The Bofurin man laughed. "Fucking idiots."

The Bofurin member took down the other two men easily. They were laying on the cold concrete, completely unconscious before you could even process what was going on. "Are you okay?" the man asked you finally.

"Y-yes," you replied.

"Good. Can I walk you home? Pretty girl like you clearly shouldn't be out here alone," he said.

"Okay, yeah." Maybe it wasn't a good idea to let a stranger walk you home, but clearly he was looking out for you. You were a little shaken up from those two men and wouldn't mind having someone escort you. "What's your name? I'm y/n."

"Endo," He grinned. "C'mon, let's get you home." You walked side by side with Endo, your heart still racing. You peered over at the man beside you, eyeing his tattooed fingers and throat. There was something about him, the glint in his eyes when he smiled at you, maybe, that made you nervous. You couldn't deny that you felt a spark of attraction when you looked at him. Part of you was drawn to the energy rolling off him.

He didn't seem like the type that would be in Bofurin, though living in this town has taught you to not judge books by their covers. Many members has a certain bad boy look to them, while being kindhearted and dedicated to upholding the safety of the town. Still, you couldn't quite shake the sense of anxiety. The little, nagging sensation that something was not right. You willed it away, telling yourself it was left over adrenaline from your encounter.

You spoke to distract yourself. "Thank you, by the way, I realized I never said that. I don't know what they would've done if... I just mean that I owe you one, so thank you."

"Owe me one, huh?" Endo a sly smile on his face. The next thing you knew his hand was gripping your wrist, pulling you down a dark alley.

"What are you doing?" you demanded. He pressed you against the wall, caging you in with his arms.

"Why don't you show me just how thankful you are," Endo replied. You tried to push him away, but he didn't move an inch.

"L-let me go!" you cried.

"Hmmm," he pretended to think about it, "No, I don't think I will."

"B-but you're in Bofurin. You guys are supposed to be good," you stammered, your heart rate spiking once again.

Endo snorted with laughter. "I stole this off one of those idiots after I beat his ass. Thought it might come in handy one day." He leaned, breathing in your scent deeply. He could sense your fear and it only aroused him more. "Looks like that day is today."

"Please just let me go, I won't tell anyone," you tried.

"No can do," Endo replied. "Too pretty to give up." His eyes raked over your body, making you feel fully naked. He took the hem of your skirt between his fingers, playing with the material. "I mean, what did you expect sweetheart? Going out in a little outfit like this? You're asking for trouble." Endo licked a stripe up your expose neck, making you gasp.

His lips found yours, kissing you deeply. His tongue forced its way into your mouth as he pressed his body against yours. You could feel his hard on against your thigh. You saw your only chance and took it, biting down on his tongue hard and trying to bolt.

Endo pulled away for just a second out of shock, but was able to grab a fistful of your hair before you got out of reach. You were slammed back against the wall within seconds, him caging you in even harder than before. You expected him to be angry, but he was grinning wildly.

"I like my girls a little feisty." End wiped the blood off his tongue and then shoved his fingers in your mouth. "But you're gonna be a good girl and listen to me now, yeah?" With the way he looked at you, you had no choice but to nod. "Good girl. Suck 'em clean for me."

You did as he bid, the salty, metallic taste of his blood filling your mouth. You licked up and down his fingers, gagging a little as he pressed them deeper. Endo's leg slipped between your thighs, pressing up against your clothed cunt.

"You're lucky it's me and not those other guys," Endo said, squeezing your tits through your silky little top. "I'll fuck you good. Those guys wouldn't have cared if you came, they woulda just fucked you and left. But cause I'm such a good guy, I promise you'll be cumming around my cock."

Your thighs instinctively clenched around his at his words, which did not go unnoticed by him. "Oh? You want more?" Endo yanked your top down, exposing your breasts to him. Your nipples hardened in the cold night air, his warm tongue swirling around them. His fingers were out of your mouth now, letting both hands focus on your tits. You should be scared, you should use the opportunity to push him off or try to run away. But fuck, the way he was touching you was clouding your head. You could feel your arousal pooling as he sucked on your sensitive nipples. Your body responded, grinding against his thigh. A soft moan escaped your lips at the friction.

"You really like this huh?" Endo smirked. "How'd I get so lucky? Saving a little slut like you?" He pushed your skirt, making anxiety flare in your stomach again. You shouldn't be doing this.

"N-no," you mumbled, pushing at him. But it was no use, he was too strong.

"No?" Endo sneered, pulling your panties to the side. His finger traced your slit, feeling your wetness. "How can you say no when you're soaked like this, sweetheart?" He was kissing your neck again, licking at your racing pulse. A finger slid inside you and you gasped. "It'll feel better if you don't fight it. And I know you want it. I can feel your cunt sucking my finger in."

"I-I d-don't-oh," your voice crumbled into a moan as he pressed into your g spot.

"You d-don't what?" Endo teased you. "Don't want me to stop? You don't have to worry, I didn't plan to." You gasped as he pressed another finger inside you, stretching you. "See, I'm such a nice guy. Prepping this tight, little cunt for my cock. You should be thanking me." You squeezed your eyes shut and turned your head away from him, embarrassed by the sounds your pussy made as he fucked you with his fingers.

Endo's tattooed fingers gripped your jaw and turned you back to him. "I said, you should be thanking me."

You sniffled. "T-thank you."

"Good girl," Endo grinned, "So easy to tame, cause you want it. Know you do." He pulled his fingers out of you and sucked on them. "Mmm and fucking sweet. I could lick your cunt all night and you'd like that wouldn't you? But I'm too fucking hard, I gotta fuck you. You don't mind right? You're thanking me for saving you, remember?"

You whined in response to his babbling. You hated how his words made your body react, aching for relief. Endo was already pulling his cock out of his boxers and flipping your skirt up. His cock head nudged your swollen clit, making you squirm.

"You don't want me to stop, do you?" He questioned, his tip teasing your entrance. "Say no, c'mon tell me you don't want it." He was so close to be inside you, but not quite. It was maddening. Your pussy was fluttering around nothing, begging to be filled. You couldn't push him away, not now. Your body was in control, desperate to release. "You really do want it, huh?"

"Please," was all you could whimper. Endo grinned devlishly, finally pressing inside you. Despite the prep he did, your body still stretched to accommodate his size. Your head fell back as you gasped at the feeling of him filling you.

"Fuck," he hissed through his teeth. "So fucking tight. You're not a virgin are you? Fuck I wish I coulda been the first one to fuck this pussy. But I'll be the best. Make you forget about those other men."

Endo didn't care to let you adjust. This thrusts were rough and hard, making you hiccup. Your hot skin was scrapping against the cold concrete wall with each snap of his hips. His cock bullied it's way deeper and deeper into you, pulling sinful sounds from your lips.

"My cock feel good? You like me taking you like this? Fuck you're a nasty slut," Endo babbled on, punctuating his words with hard thrusts. "Letting some random guy fuck you raw. Such a dirty girl for me."

You gripped his toned biceps, your nails biting into his skin. You were moaning shamelessly, letting the pleasure Endo was offering take over any other thought. the sound of you crying out coupled with the sting of your nails set Endo off.

"Fuck, yeah take me like a good girl," he groaned, shooting his cum deep inside you. The twitch of his cock and the feeling of the warmth inside made your body shudder. You pussy fluttered around him as you came with a weak whine. "That's it, fucking take it."

When Endo pulled out of you, your knees buckled and you slid down to the pavement. Endo looked down on you, chuckling. "You look real fucking pretty like this, ya know?" You were sure you looked an absolute mess, but you guess that is what Endo liked. You pressed your back further against the wall as he loomed over you. This only made him laugh more.

"Aw, don't look at me like that. I showed you a good time, didn't I? Let me take you home like I promised and we can have some real fun."

#wind breaker headcanons #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker smut #endo yamato #endo yamato x reader #endo Yamato smut #endo Yamato has #wind breaker hcs

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