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tryslora · 1 month

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On Writing Combat and Sex Scenes

Today I want to talk about writing sex and combat (and no, I do not mean combative sex). This post is inspired by a few recent events:

Once, a long time ago, I read a blog post that said “if you can write a combat scene, you can write a sex scene” and that was mind-blowing for me because while I was well-versed in writing erotica, I couldn’t write combat to save my life.

More recently, at Boskone, I participated on a panel about writing combat, and the research involved there-in.

Even more recently, I had someone look at me say, “You’re not a gay guy. How do you write gay sex scenes?”

So. Let’s begin.

I get it—sex and combat aren’t interchangeable. But at their core, they have some strong similarities which can be leveraged while writing. Both are intense, high drama, and can involve a lot of anxiety and quick thought. Both tend to narrow focus down to the moment and the current feeling and action. Both are heightened emotion and physical reaction. Both can involve actions that lie outside the author’s personal experience.

I started writing erotica when I was a freshman in college. I posted it online (does anyone remember rec.arts.erotica?) and was surprised (and pleased) by the compliments I received. Turned out my readers were not expecting the idea of emotion being entangled in their erotica. They were invested emotionally in how the stories went, and how my characters felt. Since I was writing from the point of view that made sense to me at the time, they were het stories from a female perspective, and they were very focused on the emotional connections and how the physical events heightened those emotions.

Male readers were surprised by the intensity of the feelings that these stories gave them (as opposed to pure arousal). It got me thinking about how I wrote, and why I wrote, and I tried to talk about it some at the time. I was eighteen. I was still a new writer. The internet itself was new. I wasn’t entirely certain how to frame it, but I remember getting one comment where a guy was surprised at how struck he’d been by the moment in the scene where everything shuddered to a halt due to an event in the story that interrupted the action, and I replied that that was because I wasn’t writing about the sex. I was writing about the character’s reaction to the sex.

Which has always been how I write. At the time, that was my only tool: put myself in the character’s mind, and write what they feel. If that’s affection and attraction and physical reaction, write that. Tangle it up, and hope the reader feels that entanglement.

Now, fast forward several years, and take a little side trip onto a tangent wherein I learned something very important about writing craft.

I was reading Syne Mitchell’s End in Fire, I think it was, and I kept having panic attacks. Now, I did most of my reading late, often when I woke in the middle of the night due to stress, or just because my brain refused to rest. I was in a rough place in life in general, with a lot of external work stuff going on and very small children. I wasn’t sleeping well. And it took me some time to figure out why I was struggling to read a book which I actually loved (and when I read it later in life, I enjoyed it greatly).

It was the sentence structure.

In order to induce the emotion of the scene, the sentences were short. Sharp. Quick. There was no time for the reader to breathe, much like there was no time for the heroine to do anything but act. The reader was caught up in the rising tension, to the point where my anxious, sleep-deprived brain, caught a panic attack from it.

The technique was brilliant.

Now back to our original timeline, wherein I read a post about how if you can write combat, you can write sex scenes. This post assumed that more people felt comfortable writing violence than sex. I was the reverse. I’d been writing about sex for over a decade when I saw this post, and it made a light bulb go off in my brain.

If writing sex was like writing combat… was the reverse also true? Could I improve my skills at writing battles by analyzing what worked when I wrote erotica?

So I tried doing just that. Back then, I found combat overwhelming. There was so much going on, and I was trying so hard to write good description that I lost all of the intensity. I was focusing on everything that was going on at the same time.

Thinking about how sex scenes were all intense emotion and narrowed focus, I applied that to my combat scenes. I wrote only what the point of view character experienced, and tied everything to their actions and reactions. I thought about how they breathed, how they moved, how they thought. I used those short, sharp sentences as they processed the scene.

That doesn’t mean I forgot about everything else going on in the scene. That’s impossible. After all, in any story the things the character doesn’t pay attention to might be as important as the things they do focus on. Stuff still happens, and there is still fallout. I needed to know what else was happening so that if the character moved from one place to another, or did something that put them in the path of a different part of the action, I could have them start processing it.

But it also meant that on the page, out of sight was out of mind. Everything narrowed down to the now. The immediacy. Suddenly my combat scenes snapped into focus.

During the panel at Boskone, all of the panelists had experience with different fighting styles (fencing, street combat, and of course, me with taekwondo). I spoke about how for me, that narrow focus is very real when I spar. I know there are some people who naturally see a move or two ahead while fighting; I don’t. I am stuck in act and react mode. Can I kick them now? Can I attempt a head shot? Oh, no, circle back and away or they’re going to hit me… that’s how my brain works during a sparring match.

It’s not like a total blackout—there should be a vague awareness of things around the character. Sounds in particular, or sometimes flashes of movement. Something distracting can catch the attention of the fighter, but the personal fight will always pull the character back.

Combat feels easy when I’m writing like that.

Of course, there’s still the question of writing about something if I’ve never experienced it. As someone did point out to me: I am not a gay man, so how does that affect writing sex scenes? I’ve also never fought with a sword. Brawled. Fought from horseback. I have, however, held a blade, shot a gun, shot an arrow, rode a horse. I have a vague idea of how these things work, much like I have a working knowledge of sex in general.

So yes, research gets involved. Sometimes research is observational, sometimes it’s reading (there’s so much good stuff out there). I highly recommend video for combat scenes—find things that have the feel that you’re going for, then put yourself in the place of the character you want to write about. Practice. Work through the ideas of how things fit together, and what your character will (and will not!) know during the fight.

If you need to, stand up and block the scene by thinking about how you would experience it. What can you see, and what is out of sight? If someone is coming at you with a blade, what are your options? How do height differences affect you? Yes, I have asked friends and husband to help me block scenes.

“Stand right there and show me what it looks like if you punch me. Okay, so if I do this then…” Yeah. It’s a thing. But it works.

When doing your research, remember that movie fighting (and hell, movie sex scenes) isn’t realistic. It’s meant to look good. For combat, if you can find re-enactments, or sparring videos, I highly recommend taking a look at those.

Anyway, the point is: I don’t have to have shot someone, and I don’t have to have had gay sex in order to write about them. What I do need to know is how it feels emotionally to do those things, and I can extrapolate that from what I do know. I need to know enough about the details so I can get it right, and that’s where research will help me. Also, use language to create emotion. Because emotions are where we grab the reader, and how we pull them into the scene.

Combat and sex aren’t so different when it comes to writing, and the personal experience. Now, go forth and write!

#writing #writing resources #writing sex #writing combat

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clockwayswrites · 4 months

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Not So Imaginary

Parts 1-3 Parts 4-6 (posted part 6 last night in case you missed it) cw: medical care, references to Ethiopia, references to experimentation

It said a lot about the way that things had been going for Jason lately that even half conscious he recognized the low machine hum and carefully filtered air of a Watchtower Medical room. The familiarity of the space helped gloss over any panic about his missing memories of how he ended up back in medical again as awareness came back to body. Leg and an arm still broken, ribs still cracked, just about everything else sprained; he couldn’t have been out that long. He flexed his good (better) fingers around the hand that held his.

“B?”

His mouth tasted stale in a way that made his face scrunch up in a grimace.

“Just me, ‘wing. B is doing research, but he was here till about an hour ago,” Dick said.

Jason gave a long hum instead of trying to talk again, at least not until Dick had let him have some water. The straw was pulled away a lot sooner than he was happy about, but at least some of the stale taste was gone.

“What happened?”

“According to Raven, you’re, um, no so imaginary friend absorbed some of your life force.” Dick’s hand tightened almost painfully around Jason’s fingers for a moment. “You’ve been out for about a day and a half now.”

“Mmm… must have needed it then. Must’a been hurt,” Jason mumbled around a wide yawn.

“Jay.”

“Names, Dickwing,” Jason said just to be an ass. “’Sides, little sleep never hurt.”

“A little— you were basically in a coma!”

Jason yawned again and finally peeled open an eyelid. “’M fine. How’d they even do it?”

Dick tilted his head. “What?”

“The whole…” Jason gave a little wave of his and Dick’s hands. “Vampire schtick.”

“They didn’t drink your blood!” Dick actually looked a little horrified at the thought.

“Just my life force, yeah, sure, but how?”

Dick huffed and leaned back in his chair. “Raven says you have a soul bond or something with this— with your friend. It’s how you knew they were in danger.”

“Me too.”

“What?”

“How they knew I was in danger too. I’m okay, big bird, just… little worn out. I’ll be okay. They saved me and I saved them, ‘s what we do,” Jason said. He felt his words were a little weakened by the need to close his eyes again, but he was really tired. “Don’t be mad at them. They’re why ‘m alive. Jus… jus’ needed my help to be okay too.”

“Yeah, okay little wing, you have a point.” Fingers carded carefully through Jason’s hair and he gave a pleased hum. “You just get some more rest. I’ll let the B man know you woke up. It’s all going to be okay.”

Of course it was, they had found his friend.

He’d just get a little more rest and then he’d go see them.

Just a bit more.

---

AN: Apparently once I started writing my brain wanted to do more of this! This was supposed to just be a little poll fill, you know. Now it's over 5k. And so it goes! But Jason and Danny are closer to meeting properly!

Stay delightful, darlings!

#dp x dc #dead on main #not so imaginary

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goldengalore · 1 year

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Intimacy

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Y/N hasn’t been intimate with someone in a long time, which makes her nervous about having sex with Harry for the first time.

Word count: 6.5k

Warnings: anxiety, smut (featuring soft dom!harry, fingering, thigh riding, oral - m receiving)

A/N: This is one last idea (for now) that I had for the anxious!reader universe. Lots of smut, but it’s very soft and sweet and full of love :)

***

His hands. Y/N can’t stop staring at his hands.

There are a lot of things she finds attractive about Harry. Too many. It’s actually maddening how one person can have so many attractive qualities. Lately, her brain has decided to fixate on his hands. They’re pretty and elegant, strong and masculine.

His long fingers are often decorated with an ornate collection of rings. Sometimes his nails are painted with vibrant colours; other times, they’re unpainted but still clean and neatly trimmed. She can often see the veins that travel up the backs of his hands into his toned arms. He moisturizes them well too, so they rarely look dry.

Y/N would be lying if she said her obsession with Harry’s hands is completely innocent and merely about aesthetics, that she hasn’t imagined how those fingers would feel in her mouth or between her legs and orgasmed to the thought of that while lying alone in bed at night.

It doesn’t help that he’s a highly affectionate person, finding any excuse to place his hands on her whenever she’s within reach. Even now, as they lounge on his couch, he pulls her legs into his lap and begins massaging them. She’s wearing a knee-length dress today, leaving her lower legs exposed. His hands don’t move up past her knees, but that doesn’t stop her imagination from running wild anyway.

“Y/N?” His smooth, commanding voice—another annoyingly attractive feature of his—pulls her from her thoughts.

“Hmm?” Her eyes flick up to his emerald ones staring back at her. She realizes with embarrassment that she hasn’t listened to a thing he’s said in the past minute or so.

“What were you staring at?” He glances down in his lap, where her gaze was just a few seconds ago.

“Oh, just your hands.”

His brows furrow slightly as he starts inspecting his hands, turning his palms up, then down. “Why? Something wrong with them?”

“No! No, they’re just… nice. Nice hands. That’s all. Sorry, what, um, what were you saying?”

A teasing smirk forms on his lips. “Nice hands, huh? Never heard that one before.”

She rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks. “Please. I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times.”

“Mmm, not really.”

She narrows her eyes at him, not believing him for a second. His smirk broadens.

“Anyway,” he says, resting his hands back on her legs, “I was just saying that I really missed you last week.”

Now she feels even worse about zoning out on him. He’s been out of town this past week for work. They reunited just this morning after his flight landed back in LA.

“I missed you too, H.”

“This week made me realize something.”

Her heart skips a beat. “What?”

“Made me realize how much I hate being away from you. I know our friendship started over Zoom meetings and phone calls and whatnot since I was on tour, but…” He shrugs. “After spending time with you in person these past couple months, I can’t imagine being away from you for weeks or months at a time. I think I’d go mad.”

His confession feels like being swaddled in a warm blanket. While he was away, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about him. His fluffy hair and dimpled smile, his kind eyes and boyish laugh, even his cute nose consumed her thoughts from the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment she fell asleep at night. She found herself cursing the slow passage of time frequently throughout the week. To hear that her feelings were reciprocated makes her giddy inside.

When she takes a while to respond, he says, “I hope that wasn’t too intense. It’s just been on my mind lately and I had to say it.”

“No, I feel the same way.” I think I’m in love with you, she says in her head but struggles to speak aloud. She has never been the first to say those words in a relationship.

He smiles, relieved. “Okay, good.” He holds her gaze for a few seconds, then shifts closer, her legs still strewn across his lap. His hand comes up to cradle her jaw as he leans in for a kiss, sucking her top lip into his mouth.

She scoots even closer, practically sitting in his lap now. The movement causes her dress to ride up. Harry rests his other hand on her bare thigh, squeezing it lightly. Her heart quickens. His hand inches along her inner thigh, hiking her dress up even further. Suddenly, her whole body tenses up and she shrinks away from his touch.

“Sorry, I—I can’t,” she stammers, quickly removing her legs from his lap and tugging her dress back down.

She sneaks a glance at his face and detects some hurt there. It lasts for a split second, but her brain registers it anyway. She feels awful. This is the second time he has tried to get intimate with her beyond just kissing. The first was the night before he was supposed to fly out of the city. They were cuddling in his bed. She was giving him all the signs that she wanted to take things further—letting her hands roam all over his body, grinding her hips against him—but as soon as he started returning her touches, she pulled away.

It’s frustrating because she fantasizes about it all the time, yet when it finally starts to happen, she freezes up. It’s like her mind and body are on completely different pages.

“I’m sorry, H,” she repeats.

“It’s all right.” He gives her a reassuring smile. “You’re not ready for that. I understand.”

“But I am ready. I just…” She looks up at the ceiling as if the answers to her puzzling emotions will be there. “Ugh! I don’t know.”

A long silence stretches between them, though it probably feels longer in her head than it is in reality.

“I should go,” she finally says, rising to her feet, but he grabs her hand before she can go anywhere.

“Already? We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

“But I made things awkward!”

“No, you didn’t. Stop that.”

She was trying to avoid his gaze, but he tugs on her hand to make her look at him.

“We’ve been apart for a whole week. You think I’m letting you run off that easily?” He frowns a bit. “Wait, that sounded creepier than I’d intended.”

She giggles, feeling somewhat lighter. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay.”

They order sushi for dinner and crack open a bottle of wine. The awkwardness she felt earlier fades as Harry starts telling her about a deep conversation he shared with the five-year-old girl sitting next to him on his flight. Y/N is glad she decided to stay because if she had gone home to spend the night by herself, her overthinking mind would have eaten her alive.

After dinner, they transfer back over to the couch with their wineglasses in hand. They sit cross-legged, facing each other. The wine has helped her loosen up some more, granting her the courage to explain why she’s been so reluctant to get intimate with him.

“I’m not a virgin,” she tells him. “I know it probably seems that way because of how I act every time we try to do anything sexual, but I’m not. Not that there’s anything wrong with being one, obviously. I just thought you should know.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Although he doesn’t press any further, his eyes are curious and attentive in a way that makes her want to spill everything, just lay out all her secrets and fears and insecurities in a big, messy pile in front of him.

“I’m not a virgin, but I haven’t had sex in years,” she explains. “And I’ve always had to have a few drinks before doing it. I tried doing it sober once, and it was a total disaster. I was on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, and the guy didn’t know what to do. I just told him to keep going, so he did until he finished and—”

“Lovie, that’s not okay,” he interjects, brows pinching together in concern. “He should’ve stopped when he realized you were having a panic attack.”

“Well, to be fair, I told him to keep going. It was totally consensual.”

“Still. He should’ve at least stopped to make sure you were all right. Seems like basic human decency to me.”

“I guess....” She shrugs, knowing that he’s right but not wanting to think about it much longer. “Anyway, after he finished, he told me that having sex with me was like fucking a scared baby deer.” She forces a laugh, though the memory still makes her cringe inside. “Needless to say, I was mortified and never saw him again. And that’s the only time I’ve had sex while sober.”

“And all the times you weren’t sober, did you at least enjoy it?”

She hesitates. “Um, define enjoy.”

He appears even more concerned now. “If you’re having to ask that question, I’m afraid the answer is no. If you enjoyed it, you would know.”

“Well, I just asked because if by ‘enjoy,’ you mean ‘did I orgasm during it,’ then it’s a no. But my anxiety was a lot more under control, so I guess that could be considered a form of enjoyment… Right?”

Rather than answering her question, he asks, “You’ve never orgasmed during sex?”

She shakes her head. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but her cheeks still feel like they’re on fire.

“Have you ever had an orgasm?”

“Oh, plenty. When I’m alone, that is.”

“I see.” He rubs his jaw and looks away, sinking deep into thought. She can’t read the expression on his face.

“So, now you know how bad I am at sex,” she jokes to fill the silence.

He looks at her with a raised brow. “I don’t know about that. If anything, it’s the guys you’ve been with who were bad at sex if they couldn’t even make you come once.”

“Oh no, they were all very experienced.” Y/N doesn’t know why she’s defending these men, as if they would do the same for her. Perhaps it’s because she’s spent her whole life thinking she was the problem and this is the first time someone has suggested a different perspective to the one she’s become so accustomed to.

“Experience doesn’t always equate to being good at something.”

“I guess not.” She bites her lip and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I do want to try again… with you. I just don’t know how to stay calm without having a few drinks in my system.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to work on that.”

His use of the word “we” doesn’t go unnoticed by her. We, as in this is our problem, not just yours. We, as in we’ll figure this out together, you don’t have to do it alone. She feels a surge of something in her chest, and the only term she can think of to describe it is love.

“I’m calm right now,” she says with sudden realization, placing her wineglass on the table so quickly that it almost topples over. “So, technically, we could try again—”

“No.” He shakes his head. “We’re not having sex for the first time while you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk drunk though. Just a bit tipsy. I think we could still—”

“Y/N, it’s not happening,” he states firmly. “Other guys might have been okay with that sort of thing, but I’m not, okay?”

Her shoulders slump. She looks down in her lap. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just want you to know that I want it as much as you do.”

“I know. Hey”—he tilts up her chin—“we’ll get there. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

He has no idea how much of a relief it is to hear those words. Her biggest fear this whole time has been him losing interest in her because she can’t seem to get over her anxiety around sex. It’s happened before. Guys often expect her anxiety to disappear after the first time. When it doesn’t, they take it as a blow to their ego and react by making her feel like a freak for being anxious at all. The humiliation leads to even worse anxiety the next time she gets intimate with someone. It’s a vicious cycle.

She doesn’t want to get her hopes up or anything, but maybe that cycle finally ends with Harry.

***

When it comes to Y/N, Harry just doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. Even before they met in person, he would dream of the day he could finally have her in his arms, how perfectly their bodies would mold together, how electrifying that first contact would be. For months, he’s been dying to touch and feel and kiss every inch of her, but after hearing about her sexual history, it’s no surprise why she’s so hesitant to take that step with him.

Taking things slow is not a problem for Harry. If anything, he feels lucky to be the one who gets to show her how fun and exciting and stress-relieving sex can be when the people involved actually care about each other’s pleasure.

It’s been a few days since that initial conversation. They’ve had several more discussions about it since then, and he thinks they’re ready to try something now.

He stares at Y/N lying on his bed, looking cute and cozy in his forest green Pleasing crewneck. Her lips are swollen from all their making out, her neck and collarbone littered with red spots where he licked and sucked on her skin like an ice cream cone.

“Question for you,” he says, leaning his head on his palm. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

“Hmm… A couple days ago?”

“Would you feel comfortable doing that in front of me?”

Her eyes widen. “Y—you want to watch me touch myself?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.” Her reaction already indicates that she’s not.

“Oh, I… I don’t think I am,” she admits, confirming his thoughts. “I mean, I don’t even like being watched while I cross the street. It’s like I forget how to walk.”

“Okay, different question. How would you feel about getting in a bath with me?”

She thinks about it. “I’d be okay with that.”

He runs them a bath lightly scented with a lavender oil he bought recently, while Y/N leans against the doorway and watches. Once he begins to undress, she follows suit. Starting with his crewneck, she removes her clothes at an extremely slow pace, as if she’s on the verge of changing her mind at any moment. He finishes undressing before she does and pretends not to notice her eyes bulging at the sight of his dick. Instead, he leans over to the tub to test the temperature of the water.

“I’ll get in first,” he says. “Then you can sit between my legs. Sound good?”

She swallows. “Yup.”

He steps into the tub and submerges everything but his head and upper chest into the water. His back rests against one side, his long legs outstretched in front of him.

In the meantime, Y/N finishes undressing. He forces himself not to stare, knowing that it’ll only make her more nervous. She moves quickly now, striding over to the tub and climbing in on wobbly legs. He holds out his hand for support.

“Careful,” he says.

She sits down between his legs with her back facing him. There’s still a lot of space between them.

“Just lean back against me,” he tells her.

She hesitates for a moment, then leans back until she’s flush against his torso.

He smiles. “There you go.”

“Okay, what now?”

“Nothing. Let’s just sit for a minute.”

They enjoy the next few minutes in companionable silence. The warm water seems to dissolve all the tension in her body, which is exactly why he suggested this idea in the first place. Her shoulders relax. She sinks deeper into him.

After a while, he says, “I’m going to try something. If you don’t like what I’m doing or you want me to stop, I need you to tell me. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. My ego can handle it. Okay?”

She responds with a tiny nod.

“I need you to answer me verbally, lovie,” he says softly in her ear. “Just so I can be sure we’re on the same page.”

“Yes. Got it. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Don’t have to apologize.”

“Sorry,” she says again, automatically. “Fuck! Sorr— Shit! Why do I keep—” She starts to sit up, but he places a hand in the middle of her chest, gently pulling her back against him. He can feel her heart galloping like a racehorse.

“Y/N, relax. You’re okay. You’re doing great. Just breathe.”

She inhales a deep, shaky breath, then releases it.

“That’s good. Keep doing that.”

Her heartrate gradually decreases with each breath she takes. Once she appears to have calmed down, he moves his hand from the centre of her chest to one of her breasts, cupping it tenderly in his palm. His other hand comes to rest on her belly before making its descent between her legs. She squirms a little once the pads of his fingers make contact with her clit.

“Are we okay?” he asks.

“Y—yeah.” She takes another deliberate breath.

He rubs her clit in small, tight circles and kneads her breast at the same time. Her hands rest at her sides on top of his thighs. As he pinches her nipple, twisting and pulling it lightly, her fingers dig into his thighs and his cock twitches between their bodies. He wonders if she felt it. His middle finger prods around her slit now and slips inside without resistance. He pumps it in and out a few times before adding a second one, using his thumb to rub her clit.

Y/N is completely silent, but the slick substance coating her pussy and the subtle rocking of her hips is confirmation enough that she’s enjoying this. He peeks at her face to find her eyes closed and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth like she’s afraid of accidentally making a sound.

That is another thing they’ll need to work on. Harry likes being vocal during sex and equally enjoys when his lovers are vocal too. He doesn’t want Y/N to hold anything back around him. But they can work on that another day.

“Does this feel good?” he asks.

She nods, then remembers what he said earlier and answers out loud, “Feels good, yes. Really good.”

Satisfied by her response, he presses a third finger inside and pushes all three of them deep into her with every thrust, turning her into a squirming, quivering mess in his arms. Her back arches off his torso as she comes, the smallest whimper slipping through her self-restraint. He gradually lessens the stimulation on her clit, then removes his fingers completely. She lets her head roll back against his shoulder.

“Wow,” she sighs. “I’ve never… That’s never happened with someone before.”

“Wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“No, it was great. Um… thank you?”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

Suddenly, she sits up and looks over her shoulder at him. “So… your turn now?”

He waves his hand, splashing some of the water with it. “Don’t worry about that.”

She frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs casually, trying to act cool as if he can’t feel his dick throbbing furiously under the water right now.

He could take her up on the offer, but he wants to focus on her today. Y/N is too nice to admit it, but he has deduced from their recent conversations that her previous partners were too greedy in the bedroom, exploiting her selfless nature for their own benefit. It’s quite unfortunate. Someone like her deserves to be spoiled, not exploited. At least now that she’s with him, he can make sure she gets the treatment she deserves.

After they’ve cleaned up and stepped out of the tub, he grabs one of the towels off the counter and starts handing it to her, then stops.

“Can I dry you off?” he asks.

She seems surprised but not opposed to the idea. “Sure.”

“Okay, just one moment.” He quickly pats himself dry, then grabs the other towel and walks over to her.

Timid eyes gaze up at him. They fall shut as he raises the towel to her face and dabs away all the little water droplets. Next, he moves down to her neck, shoulders, chest, and so on… After he’s done with her upper body, he sinks down to his knees on the mat and works on her lower half, taking his sweet time and humming softly to himself. He glances up to find her smiling at him.

Once her entire body is dry, he leans forward and plants a kiss to her belly before standing up with the towel thrown over his shoulder. Y/N’s eyes follow him as if in a trance.

“All good?”

She just blinks at him.

“Y/N?”

“I’m in love with you.” The words rush out of her like a whoosh of air that had been trapped in a sealed container. “God, it feels weird saying it out loud. It’s been in my head for so long and I didn’t want to say it because that makes it feel more… real.”

“Why’s that a bad thing?”

She doesn’t reply.

“Because you think I don’t feel the same way?”

“Do you?” She winces slightly as if she’s bracing herself for possible rejection, as if the answer to that question could be anything but “absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent yes.”

“Of course I do, Y/N. I thought I’d made that pretty obvious.”

“You should know by now that nothing is obvious with me.”

It’s true. Even when they were just friends and Harry began dropping hints that he wanted to be more than that, they pretty much all went over her head. Y/N is a smart woman; she just happens to be totally oblivious when it comes to love and romance, which he finds deeply endearing about her.

“Well, take this as your confirmation that I am, in fact, very much in love with you,” he states, taking her face in his hands and giving her a big, sloppy smooch on the lips, which she accepts with a laugh.

***

“That’s it, lovie. Keep going. You’re doing amazing.”

Y/N rocks back and forth on Harry’s thigh, her cunt positioned directly over his tiger tattoo. His thick, firm quads provide the perfect amount of friction against her needy clit.

A week ago, the idea of riding his thigh while he watched her would have made her extremely self-conscious. But since then, they’ve spent each night exploring each other’s bodies. He has given her several more orgasms with his fingers and mouth, while she has given him some with her hand. They’ve masturbated in front of each other. One night, he gave her a full-body massage that turned her on so much that he hardly even had to touch her clit to make her come.

She doesn’t mind being watched anymore. Not by Harry, at least. His gaze is never judgemental or critical. She doesn’t need to fret over saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining the moment. This has made her fall even more head over heels for him.

“Look so pretty getting yourself off on my thigh like this,” he says, toying with her breasts.

A moan starts to leave her mouth until she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth to trap it in. Harry reaches up and drags her lip back down with his thumb.

“Let me hear you,” he says. “Wanna hear how good this makes you feel.” He grips her chin between his thumb and index finger, keeping her mouth open.

She’s close now, the heat of her orgasm building in her core. Her hips grind faster against him. He lifts up his thigh to heighten the pressure on her clit. The tight knot in her lower abdomen unravels, and she comes with a loud moan, soaking his thigh with her juices.

“You make the sweetest sounds when you come,” he says, releasing her chin.

She pecks him on the lips and, before she’s even recovered from her orgasm, gets on her knees between his legs.

He frowns. “What are you doing?”

She looks at him like it should be obvious. “Returning the favour?” As she begins to reach for his cock, he grabs her wrist.

“Nope,” he says. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like you have to pay me back for every orgasm. Sex doesn’t have to be so transactional, you know?” The smirk on his face conveys that he’s joking, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from having the sudden, embarrassing realization that perhaps she does treat sex like it’s transactional and just wasn’t aware of it until now.

“I—I know that,” she fibs a little. “I just want to make you feel good.” That part, at least, is not a lie.

Harry has been spoiling her heavily this past week, which has been delightful. She can tell he’s making every effort to gain her trust in the fact that he doesn’t expect anything in return for how incredible he makes her feel. But Y/N likes making him feel good too. She likes the way he hisses and shudders when she finds his most sensitive spots. She likes watching his usual composure crumble simply from her touch. She lives for it.

“Please?” she adds to her request, giving him her best doe eyes.

“Okay,” he says. “If you really want to.”

“I do.”

He lets go of her wrist, allowing her to reach for his stiff cock again. Nerves make her hands tremble, as she remembers how long it’s been since she gave someone a blowjob. She wants it to be perfect, but realistically, she’ll probably be a bit rusty.

She strokes him in her hand and runs her tongue along the underside of his shaft until, finally, she feels ready to take him in her mouth. Her lips wrap around his tip and slowly move down his length, tongue gliding against him. She considers deep-throating, then decides against it because it’s been way too long since she’s done it and she needs time to work up to it again. Any insecurity she felt about that disappears the moment she glances up at Harry. His eyes are closed and jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

Emboldened by the look of absolute ecstasy on his face, she bobs her head up and down his shaft and massages his balls with her hand. She moans around him, and he releases a low groan at the sensation it produces. Then she lets his entire length slip from her mouth, teasing him by flicking her tongue over his tip and leaving little kisses along his shaft until his fingers are weaving through her hair in desperation.

“Didn’t know you could be such a tease,” he says with a breathy laugh.

She grins innocently, then takes him into her mouth again, determined to suck him to completion this time. His hand feels good in her hair. She imagines him holding her head in place while he fucks her mouth. She never thought she would be into that sort of thing until now.

“I’m gonna come soon, Y/N,” he warns her as he gets close.

She doesn’t pull away. He thinks she didn’t hear him, so he repeats himself. She makes eye contact to convey that she heard him, that she wants him to come in her mouth, which he does moments later. She relishes the taste of it, swallowing every last drop. As she draws back and wipes her mouth clean, he stares at her in amazement.

“You’re really fucking good at that,” he tells her.

“Thanks! I had this boyfriend in college who only wanted blowjobs all the time since that didn’t involve having to make me come, which was basically impossible for him. He was kind of demanding, but he taught me how to give a damn good blowjob.”

Harry grimaces. “You know, the more I learn about your previous partners, the more I want to hit them over the head with something.”

She laughs. “I think I make them seem meaner than they were.”

“No, I think you make them seem nicer than they were.” He pats his thigh. “Get up here.”

She stands up and sits on his thigh with her legs dangling between his this time. His arm wraps around her back.

Locking his eyes on hers, he says, “You are worth so much more than being some guy’s blowjob dispenser, all right?”

“I know, I know,” she says. “I was just young and naive back then, but I know better now.”

“Good. Don’t ever let any man or woman treat you that way. Okay?”

His eyes are so full of care and concern for her that she thinks she might just cry.

“Okay,” she replies.

***

Harry loves writing about the initial euphoria that comes with falling in love. It’s intoxicating and exhilarating and all-consuming. Many of his most successful songs were inspired by this peculiar feeling. It’s no wonder that he keeps heading into the studio lately to harness all this creative energy and inject it into his music.

Today, Tom, Tyler, and Mitch are all in the studio with him. Mitch is riffing on his guitar while Harry adlibs over it when Jeff pokes his head into the room.

“H, Y/N’s here to see you,” he says.

Harry raises his brows. “She is?” She didn’t tell him that she’d be visiting the studio today.

“Yeah, she’s waiting out front.”

“Is she all right? Did she say why she’s here?”

Jeff shrugs. “No clue. She seemed fine.”

Y/N always seems “fine.” She’s quite skilled at pretending everything is okay when it’s not, which can be rather concerning. Harry tells the guys he’ll be back, then heads to the front of the studio where he finds his girlfriend staring at a wall decorated from top to bottom with framed album covers of legendary musicians.

“Hi, darling,” he says as he approaches.

She turns to him, eyes illuminating as soon as they meet his. “Hi! Sorry, I told Jeff not to go get you, but he did anyway.” She gives him an apologetic smile. “I hope you weren’t in the middle of something. I swear if you were writing your next Grammy-winning single and I just ruined your flow, I’ll be so mad at myself.”

“Stop it. You haven’t ruined anything.” He steps closer, taking her hands. “Now tell me what brought you here. Are you okay?”

He studies her as she replies, “Yes, I’m fine. I’m not here for any particular reason. I just…” She hesitates. “I needed to see you.” As soon as she says it, her eyes squeeze shut. “Fuck, that sounds so needy.”

“That’s okay. We all get needy sometimes. Do you want to sit in the studio with me?”

She bites her lip, giving it some thought before shaking her head.

“Okay.” He brings her hands between their bodies, swinging them apart and together again. “Then tell me what you need.”

“I—I need…” She glances down in the general direction of his crotch.

A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “You need…?”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”

He tilts his head to side, feigning innocence. “Say what?”

“Baby…”

He wanted to make her say it, but the pleading look in her eyes makes him cave. “You need my cock, is that it?”

“Shhh! Not so loud!” Her head spins around to make sure no one heard them.

He laughs. “There’s no one around, lovie.”

“Still!” She sighs and presses her hands against her flaming cheeks. “It’s not fair. You’ve been teasing me with it this whole week, and it’s all I can think about. Couldn’t even focus on my art today because I kept thinking about how…”—she drops her voice to a barely audible whisper—“how you would feel inside me.”

It’s been exactly a week since Y/N first hinted that she’s ready to go all the way with him. Harry was the one who wanted to put it off a little longer. He predicted that if he made her wait long enough, her hunger for it would overpower any anxiety that might crop up during the act.

Smiling, he brings his hand up to her cheek, her skin hot against his cool palm. “Aw, I know, sweetheart. You know the only reason I’ve been teasing is to make sure you’re ready for it.”

“I know. And I’m ready now. I really am.”

“Okay, but we can’t exactly do it here, you know that?”

“Why not? Isn’t there a bathroom in here somewhere?” She pushes up on her toes to look over his shoulder down the hallway where he came from.

“We’re not fucking in the studio bathroom, Y/N.”

She groans and lifts her hands up to his chest, scrunching his shirt between her fingers. “But I can’t wait any longer!”

“Yes, you can.” He wraps his hands around her wrists. “You’re going to be a good girl for me and wait until I pick you up from your flat tonight.”

She pouts and concedes, “Fine.”

He kisses her pout and gives her a hug that lasts for several minutes because she doesn’t want to let go and he never lets go until she does, so they’re in a standoff for who’s going to let go first until finally, Y/N releases him.

After that, the rest of the day moves at a snail-like pace. Harry can hardly focus; he’s too distracted by the thought of what’s to come tonight. Every lyric he comes up with sounds too raunchy to put in an actual song. Even his friends jokingly speculate about why he’s acting so strange—especially Tom, who just loves to make him squirm.

That evening, he has to make a conscious effort not to speed all the way to Y/N’s flat. The plan was to pick her up, take her back to his place, and maybe eat dinner before having their fun, but he thinks he’ll have to skip most of those steps.

Y/N buzzes him into her building. She’s on the second floor, so he doesn’t even bother with the elevator and takes the stairs two at a time. As soon as she lets him in, his mouth is on hers. She kisses him right back, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing up against him. They make their way to her bedroom and remove all their clothes, ending up on the bed with him on top of her.

“Naughty girl,” he says between kisses to her neck. “Came all the way to the studio because you were needy for my cock, hm?”

She covers her face with her hands. “H, don’t tease! I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

He gently pulls her hands away from her face. “Don’t be embarrassed. Do you have any idea how sexy it is that you want me that badly? Got me all hot and bothered at the studio. Could barely keep myself together for the rest of the day.”

A mischievous little grin makes its way onto her face. “Really?”

“Yes, really. That’s the effect you have on me.” His hand drifts down between her legs to find that she’s already drenched, so he grabs his cock and runs the tip up and down her slit. When he looks back up at her face, there’s a hint of apprehension that wasn’t there before. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just remembered that I haven’t had something so, uh”—she swallows, glancing down at his cock—“big inside me in a while.”

“Do you want to be on top? That way, you can go at your own pace.”

“What if my pace is too slow and you can’t come?”

“What if I come two seconds after I’m inside you? Would you still love me?”

“Of course!”

“There’s your answer then.”

She squints at him, her lips curving up. “Well played.”

They switch positions so that she’s on top of him, straddling his hips while he leans back against the headboard. She carefully guides his cock up to her entrance, inserting the tip before lowering herself onto him. Her tight walls stretch and expand to accommodate him. She winces from the discomfort. He massages her hips, reminding her to take her time.

It takes her several attempts to get him all the way in, but once he’s there, the feeling is indescribable. He curses under his breath, closing his eyes briefly.

“Is that okay?” she asks.

“Perfect,” he responds in a strained voice. “It’s perfect.”

She seems reassured by his response and starts moving her hips in slow circles, getting used to having him inside her. Then she lifts up and sinks all the way down again. Soon enough, she’s riding him at a steady pace, her hands on his shoulders, her breasts swaying gorgeously in his face, beckoning him to place his hands over them. He has pictured this moment so many times, he can’t believe that it’s finally happening.

He starts thrusting up into her, meeting her halfway. As his thrusts become sharper, her jaw drops open.

“Harry—”

The sound of his name slipping out of her mouth like that, all salacious and full of yearning, is a drug he can see himself getting addicted to.

“Please,” she whines.

He slows down, worried that he might have been too rough. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just— Please don’t stop. It feels so good.”

“Feels good, huh? Someone finally fucking you like you deserve?”

She nods, her eyes rolling back as he resumes the movement of his hips.

“This is what it’s supposed to feel like,” he tells her. “Remember this.”

“Oh, I will.” She barely finishes her sentence before he pounds into her again.

He feels himself about to crest and reaches down to rub her clit. A final medley of moans and grunts leave their mouths as they come. Her pussy spasms around his pulsing length. As the waves of pleasure subside, her body goes completely slack in his arms, worn out from the intensity of the experience they just shared. She rests her head against his shoulder, basking in the afterglow while he brushes his fingers through her hair.

Her soft voice breaks through the silence. “I didn’t know it could feel this good. I’ve been missing out.”

“We’ve got plenty of time to catch you up. Don’t you worry.” He kisses the side of her head, earning a contented sigh from her.

***

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frenziedfireworks · 10 months

Text

Book Exchange

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary : You read quite a risque book next to your best friend and the next few days are filled with lots of tension.

CW : SMUT, f!reader, 18+ Characters, Praise/Degradation, fingering (f! receiving), breeding kink, possessive!seb (if u squint), lots of teasing & cheesy petnames

A/N : I thought of this idea a few days ago and have been working hard on it LMAO. I love the game and have such bad brainrot - if anyone has requests for the hogwarts legacy characters.. send them my way <3

Sebastian and you had been close for a long time. I mean with everything you two had gone through it was only plausible. He was your rock, best friend, and maybe.. secret crush. He didn’t need to know about that though! Besides, you would never want to ruin what the two of you had.

“You’re staring. What’s wrong?” Sebastian’s voice took you out of a daydream. You shook your head as the boy raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing. Just was thinking about the potions essay.” Sebastian groaned, throwing his face into the couch pillow.

“Don’t remind me. This is supposed to be our break, you know.”

He was right. For it being Christmas break it didn’t feel as much. All of your professors were going overboard with the homework as if a few weeks off would make your brain go smooth. You had barely any time to read or venture around with the looming thought of essays.

“It is quite tedious. I don’t get why they continue to add even more work.”

“Beats me. I think they just like to watch us suffer. Either way, I still don’t like them. I’m taking a nap.” Sebastian adjusted himself over the couch, laying his legs across your lap. You smiled as you rested your hands on his limbs, looking at his relaxed face. He was quite beautiful when he wasn’t talking himself up or making snarky remarks. Not that you would tell him that, you would never hear the end of it.

‘Does dear Y/N really think I’m beautiful? Am I like your little swan, my love’

You shuddered at the thought and rolled your eyes. He would. With this time alone, or more so, without Seb bothering you to death you looked around and took out your book. Nobody would catch you this late and it wouldn’t hurt to read.. It made you nervous thinking about if Sebastian woke up and caught you with such a scandalous book but you couldn’t help yourself. You had always secretly loved dirty literature. You’d go into a quaint bookshop where your friend, Agatha, had a hidden section for women like you. The scandalous and degenerative novels.

His fingers trailed down her bodice, lips making their way down her neck. Their breaths combined as he yanked at the last remaining garments.

You held your breath. You knew you were finally getting to the good part.

“Darling, you are ravishing. Look at you, such a smart and pretty girl, open all for me..” His hands circled her neck, pulling her ever closer. “Say it. Go on.” She shuddered at his domineering voice.

“Merlin’s beard.” Sebastian grumbled as he adjusted his back.

You had almost screamed, shuffling your book into your bag. Sebastian was just as shocked, holding his chest as if he had just had a heart attack.

“I think I’ve just died. What in the world did you jump for?” Sebastian breathed out, hand rubbing at his eyes.

You calmed yourself, rubbing soothing circles into his leg.

“Sorry. You moving scared me, I was out of it.” You gave him a small smile hoping that he wouldn’t pry anymore in his sleepy state. He just hummed and closed his eyes.

“Right. Try not to jump next time I wake up, yeah?” A half smirk made his way onto his face. You only nodded, continuing to fidget for the next few minutes. Maybe reading improper literature in the halls wasn’t your best idea.

—

It had been a few days since that incident and you and Sebastian were out and about. He had decided that going on a walk would ‘clear your minds’ before going back to the hell that was classwork. You had to admit that seeing his nose and cheeks tinge with a lovely shade of red was worth freezing your ass off.

“It’s pretty isn’t it?” Sebastian’s voice cut through the silence, his eyes wandering across the fields of snow. It was gorgeous but you couldn’t help but think that your view of him was much more of a sight.

“It is.” You murmured, watching as he turned to meet your eyes. He gave you a small smile, one he reserved for moments like these. The calm and kind Sebastian, the unprotected one that he let almost no one see. You liked this Sebastian. It made you feel special. He let you in to see his vulnerabilities and you felt like you could melt away in them.

“It’s getting late, you know. Wouldn’t want to get in trouble getting back after curfew.” His tall frame ushered behind you and weaved his arm around your chest. His head laid against yours and you swore Medusa had turned you to stone. You took a few slow breaths trying to calm your racing heart and finally spoke.

“A few more minutes couldn’t hurt Seb.”

His lips lingered by your ear and his scent engulfed you.

“Trying to get us in trouble? Such a naughty girl.”

Your whole body lit up in flames. Sebastian was a flirt but he had never said something so brazen before. There was no way in hell he was doing that on purpose, he had to be trying to get a rise out of you or something.

“Oh shut up. You’re one to talk.” Your voice cracked and suddenly your shoes looked very interesting.

“Heh. You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. Let’s get back.” Sebastian smacked your back and began walking away without a second word. Your mouth was almost on the ground. You would kill him if he didn’t kill you with his comments first.

—

Things had turned back to normal after your little moment. Well as normal as it could be. The comments he made still lived in the back of your head and got louder as you tried to sleep at night.

You had tossed and turned in bed for what felt like hours, dirty thoughts of Sebastian plaguing away. His large and calloused hands making their way down your body. His broad chest caging you against the bed as his fingers yanked at your undergarments. God was it insufferable. You finally got up and looked around the room for your bag. You desperately needed release or something to take your mind off the impurities of Sebastian.

Perfect.

Your hand pulled at your book and you settled down into bed again. It couldn’t hurt to finish the novel and at least there was no prying eyes while you were alone.

—

There was a bang against the door waking you up from your much needed sleep. You raised your head from the comfort of your pillows with a loud groan hoping it was enough to get whoever it was to go away.

“Sebastian has been annoying the shit out of me for hours, Y/N. I cannot take him for much longer and he has been begging for you. Can you please come take care of your boyfriend?” Imelda’s voice echoed through the dorm halls.

“He isn’t my boyfriend!” You moaned as you got up to get dressed. Leave it to Sebastian to keep you up all night and wake you up early.

“Yeah and I’m not good at Quidditch! Just keep him out of my sight!” She barged away, a few profanities leaving her mouth.

You begrudgingly made your way through the halls of the common room to be met with the puppy dog eyes of your best friend.

“Y/N finally! I was starting to think you’d never wake up!” Sebastian automatically took your arm in his and led you over to one of the empty couches.

“Wish I hadn’t. Wouldn’t have to deal with your ugly face then.” Sebastian mocked offense and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say. I have a busy day planned for us.”

The boy went over his need for a few potion ingredients, something about losing a bet with Ominis and how you would accompany him to Hogsmeade. You just nodded along, half asleep as he continued to dawdle.

“So then when I get that all done- Y/N are you even listening to me?” His hand shook at your form and you rubbed at your eyes.

“Yeah, your potion for Ominis and everything. I got it Seb. Let’s just get it over with.” You stretched and motioned for him to get walking.

“Jeez, someone didn’t sleep well. Nothing a few butterbeers can’t cure though.”

—

Half of the day you spent standing behind as Sebastian bought things. He even went and bought a few new sweaters with your ‘much needed approval’ as he put it. It was quite funny seeing him strike a pose or two whenever he tried on a new outfit. In your mind though Sebastian was handsome enough to pull off a garbage bag if he wanted to.

“Now we can go get those much earned butterbeers.” His cheery disposition made you grin as he tugged you along to the Three Broomsticks. You two quickly made your way over to ‘your table’.

“Oh if it isn’t trouble. I was starting to miss you two.” Sirona plopped down two butterbeers and grinned. “On the house today.” She walked away as you both spouted your thanks and got to drinking.

“Today wasn’t too bad was it?” Sebastian asked.

His hair was a bit askew and his new green sweater made his eyes blend with the caramel color of the drink. He was absolutely breathtaking.

“Yeah, not too shabby. You like pulling me around?” You joked. Sebastian’s fingers brushed against yours on the table and he sent you a look you had never seen before.

“Oh trust me there’s a few other things I’d like to pull you into.”

Your mouth went agape and it felt like you had just walked across hot coals.

“You-”

Sirona interrupted the two of you with a smack to the table.

“The two of you best leave, have to close early I’m afraid. One of my dear friends fell ill.”

Your brain had barely processed the words before the two of you were being shooed out the door and Sebastian was walking you back to the castle.

“She was in a rush. I’ve never seen her so concerned. I hope everything will be alright.” Sebastian filled the empty void with words but you couldn’t pay attention. The heat along your core still flamed as you took each step. How much longer was he going to keep up this charade?

—

You were having a major sense of deja-vu. Your eyes circled the drapes of your bed as your thoughts ran wild with Sebastian. Again. A plan had to be made because there was no way you could continue to be in his presence with the comments and tension. Would you tell him your feelings? No. Could you flirt back? Not to save your life. Whatever could you do.. You punched your pillow in defeat and got up looking for your book. You rummaged through your bag when something caught your eye. There was a book in there that hadn’t belonged to you. You brought it into the light and your soul left your body.

It was a scandalous novel. A new one that you had not yet read or bought. You peeled the cover open and a card dropped into your lap.

‘You don’t need to read these sinful books to get what you’re looking for. Although it was quite hot to see you do such a lewd thing right in front of me. You’ve got balls. Enjoy this one, yeah? Maybe we can even act it out once you’re done.’

If it was possible to die of embarrassment you would already be ten feet underground. Sebastian had caught you that night and enjoyed it. Who knew how long he had sat there and watched you squirm as you read the words. Not only that but he had the gall to buy you another and write such a cheeky note. Your body hummed with electricity at the thought of reenacting such stories with Sebastian.

You had a book to read.

—

You practically ran down the corridor stairs in the morning. You had come up with a perfect plan to corner him in his own game. Your mouth formed into a devious grin as you spotted Sebastian. Slowly, you approached him and ran your finger over the back of his neck. His eyes raised and his cheeks were dusted with a sheen of rose. You gave him a casual smile and sat down.

“Morning Seb. Any plans for today?” You asked as you laid your legs across his lap and stretched your back revealing just a tiny bit of your stomach. His grip on your thighs got just a tad tighter.

“I-Uh no. You have anything in mind?”

“Quite a few things actually. You game?” You rubbed at his hand, attempting to connect the dots with his freckles. You could hear his uneven breathing from the other side of the couch and that only fed into your newfound confidence. You tapped against his hand again.

“I said are you game or not?” Your voice commanded and his hues widened like saucers.

“Of course. When would I not be?” He exasperated and dug his nails harder into your flesh.

“Mm.. good boy. That’s what I thought. Come on then.” You couldn’t help but chuckle as you heard the tiny gasp leave his mouth. It wasn’t even seconds before he was in tow following you like a mother hen.

You cackled silently to yourself when you made your way to the front door of the Great Hall and turned. Sebastian had never looked so confused nor dissatisfied in his life.

“I’m starving!” You made your way down to your usual seats and watched as his sulky attitude got worse. His grip on his poor spoon would soon break it if he wasn’t careful.

“Your plans are to eat? That’s it?” His voice was deep and annoyed, dark eyes following the movement of your lips. Seeing him like this made you uncomfortable. Not in a bad way of course, but more so extremely turned on.

“Yeah? Like I said I was hungry. Thought we could go out and play gobstones-“

“You think you’re fucking funny?” His grip was suddenly not on the spoon but your shoulder, lips lingering on your ear.

“I think I’m fucking hilarious.” You whispered under your breath. That was obviously the wrong move because he ripped at your shoulder, practically dragging you out of the hall.

“Fucking brat. Think you’re funny. I’ll show you fucking funny.” Sebastian grumbled as he shoveled you down the Undercroft stairs. Your core clenched at his snide remark and part of you hoped that he really was angry. Maybe he would finally stop dancing around the subject of you two.

Sebastian’s hand pushed you against a pillar as the other slammed next to your head. He had perfectly sandwiched you beneath him, his dark eyes watching your every move.

“Not talking much anymore, are you?” His breath danced against your face, nose nudging against yours.

“Kiss me already.” You groaned and Sebastian took action. His mouth was everywhere at once. Dangerous kisses were pressed against your neck and jawline, his teeth rubbing against the flesh enough to leave red marks. He moved slowly as if you were prey, his eyes watching the way you squirmed under his gaze.

“You’re lucky I want to kiss you. I wouldn’t be giving you it so easily otherwise.” His face melted into your own, tongue prodding its way into your cavern. His hands roamed your body earnestly pulling at almost anything he could touch. Your whole body was jolting from the little touches, feeling as though he had made you anew.

“Seb-” You moaned as his hands ran beneath your shirt. It was tantalizing the way he rubbed the plush of your stomach, eyes pleading you to take off the garment. You could only nod in consent before he had thrown it halfway across the room. His hues took your form in, tongue wetting his lips.

“You’re fucking beautiful. I’m going to ruin you.” His hands worked at the hooks of your bra and he raised an eyebrow in confirmation. You don’t know where the sudden confidence came surging from but you moved his hands and trailed it slowly down your body. Part of you wanted to hide but it was too late for that. He had already seen you and besides, you had been imagining this for quite some time.

“God. Look at you.” Sebastian shoveled his hair back and dove in. His lips circled your nipple, teeth tugging at it just enough to make you yap.

“Fuck! Sebastian please.” Your nails dug into his shoulders as he continued to lap and massage your tits. He looked absolutely sinful making eye contact with you from such an angle.

“Please what? Tell me what you want.” His hand came down to slap your tit and an equally evil grin appeared as he heard your moan.

“P-Please. Put your hands on me.” Wanton moans passed your lips as he continued to indulge in his pleasures.

“My hands are already on you. See?” You could practically see his ego soaring as he kneaded your breasts.

“More.”

“More? Aren’t you demanding?” Sebastian mocked as his fingers trailed your waistband. He pulled at the soft material and danced on a fine line of barely touching you. He was slow and agonizing as he pulled at the buttons of your skirt, continuously glancing to watch your reactions.

“Sebastian, please. I need you.” Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt getting even more agitated by the second. His hands swatted yours away and quickly stripped away the cloth.

“You’re a greedy little thing. I swear I could’ve thought you were teasing me not even ten minutes ago. Now I have you pliant and needy. Should I really give you what you want?”

Your hands splayed against his bare chest and there was nothing more you wanted to do than to be one with him. A sudden primal desire to be as close as humanly possible and feel his muscles convulse against you. You knew that Sebastian wanted to hear you beg and you would give him whatever he wanted.

“Please. I’m begging you. I’ll be good.” You choked back a moan as Sebastian ripped your outfit off at the seams. Your underwear and skirt pulled away in one swift move and his hands rubbed deliciously at your inner thighs.

“Gonna be my good girl, Y/N? Gonna give me what I’ve been craving?” Sebastian hovered his hand over your core for a few seconds to let his words seep in. Your body yearned for his touch and you couldn’t help the way you bucked into him.

“Yes! I’ll be your good girl.” You practically yelled as his fingers finally dipped through your folds. He hummed in response and leaned back in to kiss you. His teasing had come to a stop when you felt his first digit slowly push into your heat.

“Oh fuck!” Your head fell against the pillar and your arms shook against his back.

“You’re so fucking tight. I can’t wait to be inside of you.” Sebastian began plunging in and out, his pace brutal. You had thanked Merlin that Ominis was busy because you were sure anyone coming near the Undercroft entrance could hear your screams. You could feel the string in your stomach becoming tighter by the second and Sebastian noticed too. He picked up the pace and added another digit making your eyes cross.

“Who makes you feel like this?” Sebastian grunted as his thumb rubbed at your nub pushing you even closer to the edge. Your hands gripped to his form for dear life as your orgasm finally hit.

“You! Fucking hell. Sebastian, all you!” Your head rested against his shoulder as he continued to pump his fingers in and out to prolong your high.

He gave you a few seconds before withdrawing his fingers and bringing them up to his lips. If you hadn’t just came you were sure you would’ve from the sight alone.

“You’re ridiculous.” You whispered as he pushed his boxers down and his hard cock slapped against his stomach. The sight alone made you drool.

“It’s all your fault.” Sebastian chuckled and swiped his fingers across your slit. You jolted in his hold and watched him in a trance as he used your slick to pump his cock. You had never seen a more erotic view in your life.

“I’m gonna fuck the life out of you now. Okay?” Sebastian’s words knocked any air out of your lungs. He was so vulgar and yet you felt yourself convulsing around nothing, wishing for nothing more than to be pummeled by the man.

A small please passed your lips before he was frenzied. He snapped his hips into yours, not even waiting for you to adjust as he got to work. It felt as if you were a rag doll being thrown around with the animalistic pace he set. Every spot within you was on fire and if it kept it up you would explode.

“F-Fuck Seb! So good.” Your back knocked against the pillar as he groaned.

“Fuck yeah. Only I can make you feel like this.” His grip was sure to leave bruises. Not that you really minded. If anything it only added to your pleasure.

“I can feel you tightening princess. Is the little slut gonna cum again?” His wicked words made you gasp and lose your composure. Your body shook as you came, Sebastian still impaling you on his cock in search for his high. You could tell he was close from his unintelligible groans and praises.

“Fuck! Good girl. Take it.” Sebastian’s dark eyes closed shut as he leaned his head onto you. His hot seed filled you up and the only sound in the room was your heavy breathing.

Sebastian pulled out of your wet heat, both of you whining in the process. His eyes shot up to yours and he grinned.

“That was so fucking good. I’ve wanted that for so long.”

You could only laugh and nod in agreement.

“Me too. Does that mean we’re done with the charade of being best friends?” You looked around the room for your top as he hummed.

“Yeah. Reckon my girlfriend deserves a proper date now.”

“I would sure hope so after getting my brains fucked out!”

Laughter filled the Undercroft as the two of you redressed. Maybe you would read more dirty literature in the halls if it led to this.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x reader smut #sebastian sallow x mc

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ghostkennedy · 6 months

Text

Everybody's Gotta Die Sometime

~step brother Ghostface! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

happy halloween to my ghostface leon fuckers. and to hopefully my new ghostface leon fucker recruits. <3 (shoutout to @lipglossanon for making me discover my love of stepcest. and shoutout to @delusionalbunni for requesting this. and everyone in the discord server for giving me ideas constantly)

Word count: 5419

Content warnings: DEAD DOVE DON'T FUCKING EAT IT, dubcon, noncon, dom leon, stepcest, kidnapping, drugging, bodily harm, wounds, cuts, blood, knife usage, serial killer, murders, stalking, pervert leon, discusses scenes from Scream, pet names, degradation, praise, dry humping, aggressive sex, finger sucking, slapping, ass slapping, daddy kink, baby trapping, forced impregnation, talk of body changes, talk of lactation, spitting, blood eating, BREEDING KINK, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, and more dirty talk then you'll know what to do with

!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!!!

“Run, my pretty bunny,” he whispers in your ear before pushing you down into the mud. A yelp of pain escapes from your throat as you connect with the unforgiving ground. Blood is already running down your chest from where he cut you just moments ago. A little slice to show you just how serious he was. And if it weren’t for the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you’re sure it’d hurt like a bitch.

“By time I count to twenty, you better be out of my fucking sight.”

You push yourself up with all the strength you can muster and force yourself to move forward as he starts counting behind you. The drugs are still flowing through you, making your blood feel thick like honey. Your brain is enveloped in a dense fog that has you disorientated as you weave through the heavily wooded forest.

You know you don’t stand a chance; of course you don’t. But he wants to play this stupid game of cat and mouse, so you’ll play along; it’s probably the only way you’ll make it out of this alive.

Your legs are unsteady as you traverse the uneven terrain, using tree branches to keep yourself up on your feet.

Why you of all people?

The Ghostface copy-cat killer has been terrorizing this small town for months now and you’d never heard of him taking any of his victims to the woods to play “chase.” His murders have always been quick, spontaneous, and brutal. There had never been mentions of a second location.

You must be one lucky girl.

You remember walking home from work. Sure, it was late at night so it was pretty dark, but you didn’t have any other choice. Your boss asked you to stay late, and if you had any hope of being brought on full time, you couldn’t say no.

So you said yes and before you could make it home, someone was grabbing you from behind and holding a towel up over your nose and mouth. Then everything went black.

And then you woke up, tied up in the woods with a bag over your head. The bag was quickly yanked off and the first thing you saw was that fucking mask. The Ghostface mask.

You tried to fight him as best as you could, but you were far too weak, and he was far too strong. You never really stood a chance. You pleaded with him, begged him to let you go, but you were only met with anger.

You knew you were poking the bear when you told him he wouldn’t actually do anything. And when he sliced you open across your chest with his blade, you only really had yourself to blame. And when he told you to run, that he wanted to play with you, you weren’t in any position to fight him on it.

So now you’re running through the dark wooded area. You don’t have a fucking clue where you are, you don’t know where you’re headed, you don’t have a plan, and possibly the worst part? You don’t know where he is. You somehow preferred being in that small clearing with him taunting and tormenting you than being out here amongst the trees all alone, every little sound making you jump out of your skin.

How long have you been running through the woods? Time seems to be passing by so slowly as you put forth your best effort. You’re leaned up against a tree, clinging to the bark to keep from completely toppling over. You’re so lightheaded, your head spinning, you don’t know which way is up and which way is down as the world spins around you.

Your lungs ache from the overexertion, the only things you can focus on being the sound of your heart beat pounding in your ears and fighting back the vomit threatening to spill from your throat.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your arms too weak to keep hanging onto the tree. You feel yourself falling backwards, feel yourself fainting and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Before your body can connect with the ground, arms are wrapping around you just like they had before you passed out the first time. You groan out in pain as you’re laid gently on the forest floor.

Your head is still spinning, your eyes unable to focus as you hear a distant voice talking to you.

You slowly come back to yourself and when you do, you realize you’re looking up at Ghostface himself.

“Are you okay? Can you hear me?” He questions you. You try to answer him, but your words die in your throat. You’re still feeling too weak to even speak.

You look up at the moonlight breaking through the trees above you, thinking about how pretty of a view you get to witness while dying. You guess if you did have to choose, this is the sight you’d choose to experience while your body slowly gives up on itself.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when hands grasp your face firmly and pull you to look ahead of you. It takes a minute for you to fully process that Ghostface no longer has his mask on. And you’re sure you’ve died or are hallucinating as death pulls you under when you see the killer’s real face. And it’s not just any face, because that would be too simple. No, it’s one you recognize and one you recognize well.

You choke out words, them barely coming out above a whisper, “Leon? Is that you?”

His cocky, shit eating grin takes over his entire face. You don’t need him to respond anymore. That look is undeniably and so certainly Leon fucking Kennedy.

“In the flesh, baby sis,” he rubs his thumb across your cheek.

“Are you- you’re Ghostface? Like, the Ghostface?” You’re trying to process what’s happening, but it’s so fucking unreal. There has to be some other explanation.

“You’ve always been such a stupid girl.” He shakes his head as he fights back a smirk. “You never connected the dots? Never pieced it together for yourself?”

You stare up at him, giving up fighting your tears.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s you. All the random murders? Oh baby. They weren’t random,” he laughs with a look of disbelief on his face. “Let’s see. Your boyfriend? Couldn’t have him thinking what’s mine belongs to him. That girl that used to live in our neighborhood? She was always such a bitch to you.”

You search his face for any signs of what he’s getting at, but you don’t find any answers. “I don’t understand.”

“How about that barista who always had an attitude with you? Your old manager who made you uncomfortable and didn’t give a shit?”

All you can do is stare up at him. What does your old boss have to do with this? And what barista is he talking about? They’re all bitchy at the coffee shop near your place. If someone was ever nice to you there, you’d be worried about what’s wrong with the world.

“Oh! I know what’ll make you a happy little bunny! Any guesses?”

“I don’t suppose it’s you changing your mind and letting me go?”

Leon bursts out laughing at your response, “You’re so silly. No, baby. I found the lady who did that hit and run on your car. She was drunk off her ass that day and the day I found her. It amazes me how the police could never find her, yet it only took me two days. Now they’ll really never find her.”

He brings his face down to yours, until he’s barely a few inches away from you.

“You killed them?”

“Every one of them.”

“And what about the others?”

He reaches up and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “Some were for practice, some were for fun.” He shrugs as if he isn’t admitting to a bunch of murders. “But if they were an inconvenience to us, they had to go.”

“None of them had to die, Leon.”

“Everybody dies, bunny. Better to be by my hand than some flesh eating disease, right?” The hand not caressing your face starts to slowly roam your body, his fingers gently running down your side.

“Please let me go. You don’t have to do this.”

You try to shake yourself beneath him, but he’s using all of his weight to pin you to the cold, muddy ground.

“Big brother just wants to take care of his little sis,” Leon coos at you, his fringe sticking to his forehead as the blood there slowly dries.

“You’re not my fucking brother, Leon. We haven’t seen each other since we were kids.” Your voice is mean, a complete contrast from the way you look. Covered in mud, tears, sweat, and blood. You can taste it on your lips.

He laughs down at you. “We haven’t? Baby. I see you all the time. I see you behind the counter at work. I see you at the grocery store when you need to pick up some milk and bread. I see you when you check your pockets for your wallet and keys before you go in the back door of your house.” He drags his knife down your neck, hard enough to sting but gentle enough to not break the skin. “I see you with your fingers buried deep in that tight cunt when you think no one is watching. I don’t just see it either, I hear it. I hear how loud and needy you are. It’s as if you’re subconsciously begging for big brother’s cock. Calling out for me to stuff this little pussy full, breed that tight hole until you can’t take it anymore. I see you everywhere you go baby, even in the privacy of your own bedroom.”

You can’t formulate a response, so you just stare up at him dumbfounded. You hope he’s bluffing–he has to be bluffing.

“So maybe you haven’t seen me since we were kids, but I see you all the time, sweet baby sis.”

“You’re lying. Anybody could say that vague shit.” You give him a dirty look as he presses the blade harshly against your skin. You hiss out at the stinging pain and cringe as you feel your warm blood ooze from the fresh wound.

“Oh? You don’t believe me?” You shake your head, further cutting yourself on the knife, yelping before stilling yourself once again. Quickly trying to correct your mistake.

“Hmm, let’s see,” he shifts his eyes as if deep in thought. “What about that step brother porn you’re always watching? Oh step bro, we can’t do this. Mom and Dad will catch us!” Your face heats at his words. “Or maybe when you shoved your hand in your panties while watching Scream? You came how many times? Do you remember, baby sis?”

You stumble over your words. “I-, um, well, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You give him a stern look, trying to emphasize your seriousness, but it’s useless.

His hand quickly wraps around your throat and squeezes. You struggle beneath him as your air is cut off, but he only squeezes tighter.

“Stay. Still!” He screams right in your face and you freeze in fear. You hold yourself as still as possible despite not being able to breathe.

“Remember when you came when Tatum got stuck in the garage door? Or maybe when Billy revealed he was Ghostface? Or when Billy and Stu were stabbing each other?”

“No,” you squeak out, barely able to speak with your constricted airway.

He squeezes even tighter, your face is on fire as you gasp and whine for air.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, you fucking brat.” He shakes your whole body with just the grip on your throat. “You gonna tell me the truth?” He yells out as your vision starts to blur from lack of oxygen.

He loosens his grip enough to allow some air to enter your lungs. “Tell me, god dammit!”

“Okay!” You choke out and he releases your throat. You desperately suck in air and cough from the ache in your throat. “Okay. It’s true, okay?”

“What’s true? Use your words, princess.”

“I fucking touched myself while watching a Ghostface movie! Is that what you wanted to hear? Wanted to hear me admit it even though you fucking saw it! I got off watching it, okay?”

More tears stream down your face, shame filling you after your confession. Speaking the words out loud makes it all the more real, all the more embarrassing.

How the fuck did you end up here? Exhausted in the mud beneath your ex step brother?

He sits back on his haunches and picks the mask up off the ground, quickly slipping it back on and adjusting it back into place. When his hand falls back to his side, you notice the blood smears left behind on his white mask. Your blood stains it.

“See something you like, princess?” Leon quirks his head to the side, his voice teasing. Your face immediately heats up from being caught staring. You hadn’t meant to be staring so long.

You avert your eyes, looking off into the trees and avoiding his mask completely.

“Why do you think I wear this fucking mask?” He spits out, aggressively grabbing your chin and making you look right into the empty eyes of the mask.

You whimper out and shake your head no. He lessens his grip on your chin in favor of running his thumb softly over your cheek.

“Oh, baby. It’s all for you. Don’t you see it? I killed them all for you, I chose this mask because it gets you all wet, and now?” He chuckles and brings his mouth up to your ear. He whispers as if he’s divulging you in some deep, dark secret, “Now, I’m gonna fuck you while wearing this mask. And you’re gonna fucking love it.”

Your jaw drops as your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. “Wha-what? No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

He grinds his pelvis into your abdomen and that’s when you feel it. His hard cock pushes against you and it solidifies his claim. He’s really going to fuck you.

And you want to be disgusted, you want to scream and push him off, but you don’t say a word as you clench your thighs together. You had been so caught up in the chase, so caught up in putting up a fight that you didn’t stop and realize how fucking wet you are.

You cringe at the throbbing in your cunt. Your panties and thighs are soaked, you’re sure you’ve soaked all the way through your pants as well.

You want to explain it off. It’s just an adrenaline response, it’s out of your control. But as he continues to grind into you, you find your hips raising up and meeting his rhythm. Your lip is bleeding from how harshly you’re biting it, your hands curled into clenched fists.

“There she is. There’s my dirty fucking bunny. Knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself, knew you needed your big brother’s cock.”

You whine at his words, his clothed crotch grinding into yours causing your panties to dig into your throbbing clit. The friction is so good, it has sweat beading down your back, but it just isn’t fucking enough. Not nearly enough.

“Leon,” your voice is high pitched and whiny. You lift your hands from beneath his thighs and reach out to cling to him, but he’s quick to grab your wrists in one of his hands and pin them above your head.

“None of that, baby sis. Use your words for me. What do you want?”

“Please,” you both continue rolling your hips together, finding an achingly perfect rhythm. If he keeps this up, keeps grinding into that spot that’s just right over and over, you’re gonna cum just like this.

He grinds into your clit particularly hard and it has your eyes rolling back, a pathetic moan falling from your lips and echoing out in the empty woods surrounding you.

“Please what, princess? If I don’t know what you want I can’t give it to you. And I’ll stop right now.”

“No!”

“Then use your fucking words, you dumb bunny,” He spits at you angrily. His muffled voice through the Ghostface mask sounds like sex itself. He could say anything to you right now and it would have you drooling for him.

“Wanna cum,” you whine out, toes curling in your shoes.

He slows his hips, just barely continuing to grind into you. “Not enough.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I want you to fuck me. Please, fuck me. I need you inside of me.”

“See? Not so hard is it? You want big brothers cock stuffing this slutty pussy full?

You arch your back, pushing your body up into his in desperation. “Yes. Please, fuck. Need your cock.”

“Who’s cock?”

“Yours?”

“Nu uh, not good enough.”

You whine out, kicking your feet in frustration. “Big brother’s cock. I need my big brother’s cock inside of me. I wanna feel it.”

He sits back on his haunches, releasing your hands from his grasp. His hands go down to start undoing his belt as you reach out and palm his cock through his black jeans.

You gasp as you feel how fucking big he is.

Leon clicks his tongue as he releases his belt and slowly starts working the zipper on his jeans down, “What? Not what you were expecting?”

You whimper at his cocky tone, unable to speak. The only thing you can focus on is getting his cock inside of you.

“Need your big brother to fill you up with his big cock?”

“Yes. Please,” you whine as you wiggle beneath him. You can’t make yourself stay still, your body thrashes with need.

His pants are undone, barely hanging onto his hips when he releases your legs and pulls you up into a sitting position. He grabs your shirt and quickly pulls it over your head, tossing it off to the side haphazardly. He doesn’t even bother pulling your leggings off, grabbing the crotch and tearing it open.

“Hands and knees,” he instructs you and you immediately comply, rolling over and pushing your ass up in the air for him.

He groans at the sight of your lace panties clinging to your pussy, your arousal working as a glue. He tears your leggings further, not stopping until your whole ass is exposed for him.

He runs his fingers over your panty clad pussy and it has you pressing yourself back into his touch. He makes a sound of disapproval before a loud smack rings out, followed by a sharp stinging pain in your ass cheek.

He presses his chest into your back, bringing his mouth down to your ear. “Such an impatient slut,” he growls as he grinds his bare cock against you.

You go to turn your head to look back at him, but his hand is quick to grab your face and force you to look forward, before his hand roughly covers your mouth.

“Stay fucking still,” he hisses out at you, causing all of your muscles to freeze up in fear. The tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. Part of you hates it, but another part, a much bigger part, loves it and has your pussy clenching around nothing.

“That’s it. Stay still like a good fuck bunny for your big brother.”

You feel him pull your panties away from your pussy and bunch them up and out of the way, before his fingers lightly graze around your needy hole.

“So fucking wet. And you tried saying you didn’t want this,” he chuckles directly into your ear, sounding like pure sex to you. He releases your mouth and instead pushes your face to the ground and holds the back of your neck instead.

His free hand leaves where he was teasing your hole, surprising you when he grabs one of your hands and brings it back to your wet cunt.

“Feel how fucking wet you are.” He pushes your fingers up against your soaked clit and your legs quiver at the sudden stimulation. “Feel that, bunny? Feel what your big brother did to you?”

You moan out as he continues rubbing your fingers into your clit.

“Yes,” your voice comes out whiny, “Big brother gets my pussy so wet.”

“Good girl. Should I give you what you want? Want me to shove my cock in my little sister’s pussy?”

You push your ass back against his groin again. “Yes, your little sister needs her pussy bred.”

He pulls your hand from your clit and brings your wet fingers up to your mouth. “Here. Open up and tell me how this slutty pussy tastes.”

You’ve barely opened your mouth before he’s pushing his fingers down against your tongue, causing you to eagerly lick and suck them clean.

“That’s it, taste this sweet fucking pussy for me. Such a good slut, huh? Nothing but a fuck bunny for me,” he shoves his fingers to the back of your throat, forcing you to fight your gag reflex while tears slip from your eyes.

You choke around his fingers and he quickly pulls them from your throat.

“You like tasting your own slutty pussy?”

You can’t stop the moan that slips past your lips, “Yes. I love it.”

“You love what? Come on, baby. Use your words so I can reward you.”

Another harsh slap to your ass has you yelping out, “I love tasting my own pussy. Love when big brother makes me taste myself.”

You crane your neck to look back at Leon and he lets you look at him. Mask still in place, t-shirt bunched up above his belly, his pants and boxers pushed down his thighs.

His cock is right against your needy hole. Just one small movement of his hips and you could finally feel him inside of you.

“There you go. Watch as big brother spreads you open on his cock.”

And then he slowly pushes forward and you look into his mask as you finally feel him inside of you.

Your pussy is immediately clenching around him. Weak little moans continuously falling from your lips as he pushes in further and further.

“Such a tight pussy, fuck.” He praises as he bottoms out and holds his dick inside of you. “You were made to take big brother’s cock. Look so fucking perfect like this.”

You whimper softly into the ground at his words, staying still and willing yourself to adjust to his massive dick. You feel split in half already and he hasn’t even started fucking you yet.

His hand runs up and down your back, along your spine gently. “That’s it, you got this, pretty bunny. Gonna bread this tight cunt, ruin you for anyone else.”

“Pl-please,” you whined out, “Please fuck me. I want it so bad. Big brother, please-”

You can’t even finish begging before he’s pulling out and roughly shoving his cock back into you.

“Oh my god,” your voice comes out in a tone you don’t even recognize as your own. “Yes, yes, yes, please. Oh fuck.”

He roughly grips your hip as he effortlessly thrusts in and out of your soaking wet pussy.

“You like that, baby sis? Already going dumb on my cock and I haven’t even properly started fucking you yet. Such a pathetic little whore, my pathetic little whore. Taking my cock so fucking well.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he slowly starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts.

“All yours. Your whore,” you aren’t able to finish your statement before he starts aggressively fucking his cock into you. The only sounds leaving your mouth are broken gasps. The pleasure is too intense for you to make any other noise, mouth stuck open on a silent moan.

He moves his hand from the back of your throat, instead grabbing a handful of your hair harshly and yanking you back until your head is against his shoulder. The moan you release is nothing short of pornographic at the pain in your scalp.

He chuckles before speaking right against your ear, “Fucking take it, you stupid whore. Dumb little sis likes it rough. I’ll fucking give it to you just like you want it. Gonna fucking break you.”

“Oh fuck yes, daddy,” you don’t even register the words you’ve said until Leon let’s out a loud moan.

“Daddy? You dirty little girl. Want daddy to breed you? Need daddy to take care of you?”

“Yes. God, yes.” You’re too far gone in a pleasure filled haze to be embarrassed about calling him daddy. Fuck, you’d call him anything he asks right now.

“Gonna let daddy put a baby in you? Keep you tied to me forever.” He’s practically growling in your ear at this point, so worked up over you calling him daddy. “Gonna swell up with my baby and everyone will know how good I fuck you.”

“No, daddy, we can’t,” you try to reason with him through your brain fog.

He laughs loudly in your ear. “But I can, and I will. God, your boobs are gonna fucking leak all over. Gonna fucking suck those milky tits dry.”

You can’t stop yourself from clenching around his dick at his filthy words.

“Ugh, knew you’d like that. Gonna be tied to daddy forever. You’ll never fucking escape me. Gonna keep this pussy stuffed, gonna make you pop out all my babies. Gonna fucking show you how much of a daddy I am, baby.”

He quickly pulls out of you making you whine out in disappointment. But it doesn’t last long, as he throws you on your back. He wraps your thighs around his hips and shoves his dick back inside of you.

He goes back to his unforgiving pace and all you can do is stare up into the Ghostface mask, which only intensifies your pleasure.

Your hands trail up his chest until you’re gripping the back of his neck and pulling him closer into you. You go back and forth between staring into the mask and squeezing your eyes shut.

You don’t know what comes over you, but you're desperate for skin to skin contact. So you grab the hem of his shirt and yank it over his head, but in the process, you pull his mask off with it.

Then it’s just you and Leon staring right at each other’s faces. Sweat pours from his forehead, his mouth slightly agape as he pants from the exertion, and his eyes blown wide with lust. He looks like an absolute madman, but you suppose that’s because he is.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself up into his body. Your chest presses into his as you connect your lips with his. One of his arms wraps around your lower back while he uses his other arm to hold you two up. He thrusts, never once slowing.

The kiss is sloppy. Your tongues immediately come together and explore each other completely. Spit drips down your chin as you moan into the kiss.

He bites your lip, you bite his. He sucks on your tongue, you suck on his. He sucks your lips until they ache, and you suck his lips with everything you have.

You finally break the kiss, but keep your foreheads pressed together.

Leon pushes your bodies down, your back connecting harshly to the cold ground. He grabs your calves and brings your ankles to his shoulders.

“Oh god, daddy. Yes, fuck, please, fuck, just like that. Please, please, please, daddy, fuck.” You don’t process anything you’re saying. Words just keep falling from your lips as he continuously pounds deeply into you.

“I’m gonna fucking fill you up, baby sis. And you’re gonna take all of it. God, gonna breed my baby sister’s tight pussy. Gonna let daddy breed you, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes, please.”

He brings his hand down between you two, ru

bbing your clit harshly causing you to cry out loudly at the intensity.

“Who’s gonna breed this pussy? Who’s baby is gonna grow in this fucking belly?”

Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head as your whole body feels more and more wound up, fastly approaching your release.

“Fucking answer me. Who’s breeding this tight cunt? Who’s cock are you gonna cum all over?”

“Yours. Yours, daddy. Gonna, fuck, gonna cream my big brother’s big fucking cock.”

“Yeah, that’s it baby. Tell me how it feels. Tell me how good big brother’s cock is making you feel.” He’s groaning, borderline growling, as he ruthlessly pounds into you.

You force your eyes open, force yourself to look into his eyes. “You daddy. You’re making my slutty pussy feel so fucking good. God, your cock is making my pussy feel so good. Big brother’s cock is making me feel so good. I wanna cum all over it.”

“Come for daddy, then. Cream my fucking cock like the dirty whore you are.” He pulls his hand from your clit so he can hold your thighs up more firmly. “Rub yourself for me. Wanna watch you push yourself over the edge.”

Your hand quickly reaches down, quickly rubbing fast circles on your soaking wet clit.

“Look at me while you cum on my cock. Be a good whore and look at who’s fucking you like this.”

You bite your lip until you taste blood again. Moaning loudly as you stare up at Leon and rubbing your clit furiously. You’re desperately trying to cum, desperately trying to push yourself over the edge. But no matter how close you feel, you can’t send yourself over the edge.

Until a stinging, blinding pain seers into the back of your thigh and you can’t even process the warm blood pouring from the freshly sliced wound before you’re cumming. Cumming harder than you ever have in your life. Not one inch of your body isn’t shaking, not one part of you not exploding with intense pleasure.

You’re screaming, your throat burning from the strain. You have to force yourself to stop as the overstimulation sets in.

“Dad, daddy, please. Fuck, I can’t take it anymore.” You’re practically sobbing now, but your request is ignored.

He pushes your ankles off of his shoulders and you immediately lock them behind his back. One of his hands grips your jaw and spits on your cheek.

“You’re gonna fucking take it, fucking whore.” His other hand runs down the middle of your chest, coating it in fresh blood. You look down and see your dry blood combining with the new blood, staining nearly your whole chest red.

A sharp slap meets your cheek. Your cheek burns and your ear rings from the sheer force of the hit. Before you can even yelp out in pain, his blood soaked fingers are being shoved into your mouth and you’re immediately hit with the copper taste.

“I’m cumming, fuck. Breeding baby sister’s greedy fucking hole. Take it, you stupid slut. Fucking take it, fuck.” His thrusts slow, but are just as hard as he cums deep inside of you.

You’re too distracted sucking his fingers clean to register what the stinging pain in your abdomen is.

Leon groans and moans above you as he comes down from his high. He finally looks back down at your face and can’t stop himself from smiling at the blood and dirt all over your body. He could eat you alive right now, and he just might.

He slowly pulls his spent cock out of you, causing you to whimper at the sudden emptiness and the feeling of his cum steadily dripping from your abused hole.

He sits back on his haunches and lets out a throaty laugh. “Would you look at that,” You follow the direction of his eyes down to your abdomen where you see blood pooling. He quickly picks up his discarded shirt and wipes away the excess blood, causing you to hiss out in pain.

But he finally uncovers his handiwork for you to see in all its glory. And you gasp out in shock at the sight of it.

Carved into your skin are messily drawn letters. L.S.K.

“See? You’ll never forget who you fucking belong to now.”

~masterlist~

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soapskneebrace · 1 year

Text

in the early morning

Pairing: John Price x f!Reader Rating: All Ages Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: none Author's Notes: I am dedicating this specifically to @yeyinde who is so graciously assisting my poor American ass with basic UK knowledge, and to @guyfieriii who I've had so much fun talking about Professor Price with and has thus inspired me to play with my own AU. Thus, I present: Neighbors AU! MASTERLIST Now on Ao3!

You’re about to knock again when your neighbor finally answers the door.

It’s the last place, time, and chore you want to be involved in—nearly 6am, looking to register a noise complaint with a man you’ve never met, shivering in flannel pajamas and bundled into two coats on his stoop.

The landlady Mrs. Walmsley had pitched for your flat hard on the basis of this mystery neighbor being absent for months at a time.

“He’s SAS, dear,” she’d said in that little nasally voice. Her eyes had been excitedly wide behind thick, round glasses. “A captain. They have him going all over the world, so it’ll be quiet as the countryside here at home.”

Evidently not.

The world is still swaying a little, indignant on behalf of your interrupted REM, as the door swings open before your knuckles can connect. Then you’re sure you’ve fallen back to sleep, because in the doorway stands a tall, handsome, shirtless man with a bowl of cereal cupped in one very large hand.

You’re not sure where to look, but your gaze has not waited for your brain’s directive, because you take in a trim, sturdy waist, full pectorals, and thick, strong arms all dusted in a pretty composition of dark hair before thinking to actually look the man in the eye.

Oh. Equally disconcerting. He has a kind, lined face, a dark beard and soft blue eyes that are focused directly on you.

Whatever words you had half-planned to say flee like birds startled away from a park bench. You think, SAS. Captain. Couldn’t Mrs. Walmsley have mentioned even once that he looks like an honest-to-god movie star?

You must look like you’re staring into the headlights of an oncoming car, because the SAS Captain’s dark brows crease in the middle. “You alright, love?”

You blink. “Um.” Goodness, no man’s voice deserved to sound that sultry so early. Or did it sound that way because it’s so early? “I, um.”

He tilts his head, listening. You have to rub your eyes so you can stop looking at him.

“I’m sorry,” you say, noting the dumb, drowsy slur of your thus-unused voice. “I don’t mean to bother you.”

“Not a bother at all,” says the Captain. “What can I do for you?”

This is going somehow far better, and simultaneously much worse, than you could have imagined.

“It’s,” you try, peeking at him as you reluctantly lower your hands from your face, “it’s the telly. Or the music. I—you’ve got something playing, and I don’t mean to be a pest, but it woke me up, and—”

His brows shoot up his forehead, and you can see realization bloom across his expression. “And it’s loud, isn’t it?”

Before you can nod, he steps away from the door, and you can see him retreat into the living area to retrieve a remote. He points it at something, his long, muscled arm outstretched, and the noise, which you had failed to even notice once he’d opened the door, instantly silences.

He comes back to the door. “Better?”

You blink. You try very hard not to stare at his chest, which is pebbling with goosebumps in the morning cold. “Uh—yes, that should be alright. Thank you.”

“No trouble,” says the Captain, stirring his cereal without looking at it, blue eyes once again directly on you. “I’m sorry, didn’t know someone had moved in.”

“Just a month ago,” you admit. And you introduce yourself, because even half-asleep your manners haven’t completely fled you.

The Captain nods. “That explains it. I’ve been out of the country. I’m John Price. You can just call me John.”

Out of the country. SAS. Captain. Strong arms, and soft blue eyes. Suddenly you feel very small, shivering on this man’s—John Price’s—front doorstep, bundled up like you’ve never experienced a cold day in your life, while he stands there half-naked and not even blinking at the bite of 4C.

“Well,” you say, trying to remember how conversation worked, “welcome home?”

John Price smiles at you, then, and you’re struck even in your drowsy state by it. It’s a sad smile trying its best to be happy.

“Thank you,” he says. And by the way he’s looking at you, blue eyes gone even softer than before, you think he’s appreciated your half-hearted pleasantry far more than it deserves.

“Well, um.” You flounder. When you stepped up to the door, your only intention had been to make this as quick as possible, wanting to return to the warmth of your bed underneath six blankets as fast as you could manage.

Now—okay, you still want to get back into bed. But Captain John Price (still shirtless) seems in no rush to hurry you away, and it isn’t every day that a mysterious, dashing soldier trains his attention solely upon you.

The still-asleep part of your brain wonders shamelessly if he’d be as warm as those blankets if you touched his bare skin. You strangle the thought immediately.

“I don’t know if you know Mrs. Walmsley,” you say, “but she had some quite nice things to say about you.”

Captain John Price smiles again, and it’s a little less sad and a little more amused. “Did they have to do specifically with my absence?”

SAS. It’s only six in the morning. The lying part of your brain is still asleep, if it would even be any use here. “It came up? Sorry?”

He doesn’t laugh, but the huff that comes out of him resembles it enough that you know he’s not offended. “Don’t be. Seems like she has trouble keeping the place lived in as it is. Think you’re the first one who’s actually talked to me.”

“That’s a shame!” you say in earnest.

But John Price shrugs. “I can’t imagine they would’ve enjoyed talking to me too much. Career soldiers aren’t all that interesting—I should know, I spend most of my time around them.”

“Well, I think you seem very nice,” you insist, and despite the morning’s rude awakening, you’re being entirely truthful.

John opens his mouth to reply, but a cold wind chooses that exact moment to blow, and you are not able to suppress a full body shiver as it hits. You tug your coats more tightly around your body, tucking your hands into your sleeves.

John frowns. “Not nice enough to send you back inside where it’s warm, clearly.” He sets the cereal bowl out of view and crosses his arms loosely across his bare chest. “Aren’t you freezing?”

“Me?!” you exclaim, astonished, face warming. “You’re wearing less than I am!”

“I’ll be fine,” says John. “I hate to think I’ve kept you out here suffering. Please, I appreciate the conversation, but you don’t need to indulge me.”

But you want to, you find, and very badly. You want to stay in this man’s soft blue gaze, listen to his rumbling voice, even if you stop being able to feel your own body from the cold. There’s something about Captain John Price that’s unusually compelling (helped by the absence of a shirt), and you feel in that moment a little like you’re brushing up against someone more important than someone like you will ever be.

But you recognize a polite dismissal when you hear it, too.

“If anything, I’ve been the one keeping you,” you say, smiling apologetically. “But it’s been very nice to meet you, John.”

He smiles at you again, and it’s the same one from before—sad, trying to be happy. He says your name, and it sounds better than it has ever sounded, wrapped in the rough baritone of his voice. “Pleasure to meet you too. Truly.”

You smile back, and leave his doorstep. You’re not sure now how you’re going to fall back to sleep now.

You’re twisting the handle of your front door when suddenly John calls your name. When you turn to look at him, he’s leaning a little out of his doorway, balancing himself with a hand on the inside of its frame.

“If I ever get to noisy for your liking,” he says, “just knock on the wall, and I’ll bring it down, aye?”

“Okay!” you reply. “And you too, yeah? I don’t want to bother you, either!”

“I don’t imagine you could,” John says, giving you another amused huff, “but sure.”

You don’t know how to respond to that, so you wave, and escape inside.

#cod x reader #cod mwii #cod fanfic #cod:mw2 #cod imagine #cod mw2 #mw2 fanfic #mw2 imagine #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 fanfic #john price x you #john price x reader #captain john price x you #captain john price x reader #price x reader #og post #neighbors au

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lynnlovesthestars · 5 months

Note

Could you do a Astarion x Tiefling Reader were they are sitting alone underneath there tents canopy in and they are sewing to pass the time humming and doesn't notice Astarion walk up after he was looking for them . ( they could be making something for him maybe for his 'birthday' after learning that it was that day ) .

omg sorry i took so long but my creativity juices flow in funny ways ahah.. to make it a little easier for me, since my tiny brain has been having a hard time in putting words down, i thought it would have been nice to tie this up with a oneshot i wrote a few weeks ago.. i wish i followed better your prompt- though i hope you'll like it.

Ofc reading the part before this won't change the experience, but it was nice to tie them together cause it gave a little continuity and idk anyways i hope you'll like it though it's mostly introspective and a lil angsty when astarion shows up..

----

Masterlist.

Part 1. (the one shot i tied this to)

My prompt list for requests.

Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird (i forgot to add it yesterday cause im an idiot, but better late than never ahah)

----

Golden.

Pairing: astarion x GN!tiefling!reader

Summary: the huge tear in his shirt caught your eye again, and you decided to give him a reminder that someone cared about him.

Genre: angsty?, lots of thinking, self-doubt, avoidance✨

You never noticed the tears carefully patched up on Astarion’s shirt until you were retrieving your dried clothes from the fire.

His button up sat up ripped on the stone like you left it on the night before, yet you still couldn’t help but focus on the smaller sewn tears already covering the fabric. It was such a precise job, that you wouldn’t have been able to tell that the fabric was ever broken until you looked closely and the places where the thread was tightly pulled became clearer.

You made a mental note of it as you walked back to your tent, holding up the bundle of yours and Astarion’s clothes.

The camp was lively that morning: yelling, singing, clattering of bottles and pans, along with rustling of the leaves had saturated the air, charging it with an electrifying energy.

In the middle of the chaos, your brain still stirred towards Astarion and the way you woke up curled up in his side, while he was meditating.

The tension that filled the tent the night before was gone. The only thing left from the night before was the ghost of his bite on your neck, and his body holding you to him.

When he broke his trance, he acted like nothing ever happened. Like you didn’t sleep twisted with him, or the way he drove you insane the night before.

You could still feel his lips on your neck as you collected your sewing kit from the tent, which still smelled like him, blood and bergamot.

As you spread the shirt on your lap, you could relive the events of the night before like a bard stuck on encore after encore.

You could feel the warmth of your bodies pressed to each other still spreading over your skin as you carefully prepared the essential to fix the tear.

You studied the tear that spread over the back, you knew it was going to be hard to make it seem flawless like the rest of them, but you wanted to attempt for him.

Worst case scenario, it was gonna stay broken anyways.

As you started to work on the tear, and you noticed how the uneven edges were not coming out nicely, an idea spurred in your mind.

At worst you were already planning on buying him a new one when you reached Baldur’s Gate. You had connections in the lower city, and you knew you could get a tailor to make the same button up if you brought a reference.

You worked on the shirt for what felt like hours, while everyone was enjoying their day, whether they took care of chores around camp or disappeared for walks, but as everyone came and left, the only one you had not seen was Astarion.

It was only when the sun was starting to set that you finally spotted him near his tent as he was looking for something in his bag.

You were just done with the shirt, and you couldn't help but hope he liked it.

You folded the shirt carefully along with the rest of his clothes, and as you were ready to head towards Astarion, he already stood in front of you.

His face was unreadable like he wanted to convey a specific emotion, but couldn't figure out how to. He was tense, his arms were frozen at his sides, so you decided to break the ice.

“I did this for you” You carefully showed him the pile of his neatly folded clothes, and his shirt on top.

“I wanted to fix your shirt, but the tear was too-” You started but before you could explain, Astarion had stopped you almost harshly.

“You didn't have to”He said briefly, it sounded mostly like an admonishment, yet you could have sworn there was some sort of softness to it.

“I know, but I wanted to”

“Why?” His furrowed brows were inquisitive, trying to gauge your intentions as he wetted his lips.

“Cause I care about you, I literally told you yesterday” The words slipped out of your lips just as quickly as your tail was swishing nervously.

He scoffed, folding his arms and turning his eyes away from you. “No one does things for free” You could tell there was something odd from him, as if he was trying to bury something under this indifference he was trying to put up now.

“Count this as a gift then” You jutted your chin towards him and invited him to take the clothes still in your arms.

He was taken aback by the simplicity with which you said those words, almost carelessly, and most of all to the person that deserved them the least, especially how hard he was being with you.

He wanted to quip back but you resumed your explanation before he could even think of a response and he wanted to hate it so much.

“As I was saying, I tried to fix the tear, but it didn't want to look nice, so I embroidered the shirt with a gold pattern” You explained as you pointed at the button up. Astarion was so focused on shielding himself that he didn’t even look at his clothes, she could have gave him one of her shirts for what he knew and he would have not realized it until he would be in his tent.

His eyes finally fell on the piece of clothing his mouth fell slightly open. He traced the golden thread carefully, as if it was a creation of his sick mind. “I hope it’s not too much.”You trailed off, your words were warm, almost sticking to his skin like glue. He wanted to shake them off himself, he wanted to yell that he didn’t deserve such attentions, that you were an idiot to do all of this for someone that had planned to use you, but it was like something in his body stopped him from screaming and lashing out at you, the only thing he could manage to do was the simple task he gave himself in the morning.

“I came here to thank you for last night, and for your kindness” He started with a honeyed voice. “But I suppose I have one more thing to add to the list” He clutched the bundle of clothes to his chest, tipping his head forward in thank you.

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #astarion angst #astarion baldurs gate #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 x you #vault: lynn ☆#ask: lynn ☆#asklynn☆: request #request open

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the-dendrophile-bookdragon · 10 months

Text

My Neighbor's Cat

Franz

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Warning: sassy cat, fluff

Please support me by not only liking my post but also reblogging and maybe leave a comment in the tags. Thank you!

Spencer came home late. The case was long and tiring, taking a lot of his energy and patience. He nearly fell asleep in the escalator on his ride up to his level. The slight jolt woke him up. He dragged himself to his door with heavy legs. His key is ready in his hand.

He couldn’t remember exactly how he opened the door or how he got to his sofa. The only thing he knew was he lay on the couch for 19 minutes and five seconds when he heard a light tap at his window. Spencer didn’t think too much. Sometimes birds get lost and peck at his window. But when he heard a stronger tapping followed by a pitiful meow he sat up and walked over to his window.

A tabby cat sat there meowing at him. He was wet from his ears to his paws. Spencer speed walked over to his kitchen to retrieve a kitchen towel before opening the window. First, the cat started to ready itself to jump into his living room but stopped short as he saw the towel in Spencer’s hand.

The cat looked up at him with a look of ‘I dare you to touch me’. Spencer only huffed. He saw the poor thing’s body shake violently and grabbed it. The animal protested vehemently. Spencer tried to calm it down but had no luck, “Stop thrashing. You are wet all over.” The cat hissed and screamed for his dear life. Spencer was scared someone would call the police or any animal rescue organization and arrest him for animal cruelty.

With a final hiss, he let the cat go. It strode away from him with his head held high like he owns the place. As if sensing it is being watched, the cat turns around. Spencer was perplexed by the sheer personality the cat radiated from itself. It looked away from him and walked to his office desk. Spencer just saw as the cat looked at him, mischief in its eyes, and hopped onto it.

While finding the right space the cat knocked down a lot of his book piles. “No, no! Not there! Come on!” The cat ignored Spencer as it lay in the middle of his desk. Right on some papers for his current case. He wanted to take the cat in his arms and put them in another space but the cat wouldn’t pudge. He merely growled at him in protest.

Spencer sighed deeply. He gave up and turned to the notebook on his coffee table. He took it and sat down on his couch. He began to scribble down some leads and theories into the little black book. The cat snored loudly at his desk which earned it the attention of the genius.

Spencer closed his book and stood up stretching his limps. He walked over to his desk phishing his phone out of his satchel. He angled it so the cat was recognizable. He made sure the photo was okay before leaving out of his door. He made sure he had his keys before making his rounds.

His first stop was the next-door neighbour he never had met. They moved into the apartment a while ago, he couldn’t remember when. But one day he heard music blasting through their shared wall. He liked it. The drums stimulated his overthought brain. He waited for a few minutes before going to the next.

Door after door opened but no one seemed to claim ownership of the cat. He nearly wanted to give up when the door of the elevator opened with a ding and you stumbled out. You didn’t see the lanky man at the end of the floor standing by your door. You fished out your keys and came to a stop right in front of him. You looked up and saw him watching you. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Spencer didn’t know what to do. He felt heat rushing onto his cheeks. Before he could do anything you had a look at his phone. You were curious as to why such a young man had such an old phone model. You saw your cat on it. Your eyes were wide. “Franz!”, you exclaimed. Spencer was thrown out of his trance. He looked at you before looking at his phone again. He cleared his throat before asking shyly, “Is this yours?” You nodded eagerly. “Yes, he is mine. This is Franz.”

Spencer was intrigued. “Franz?” You giggled softly, “Yes, after Franz Kafka. I like what and how he writes.” Spencer couldn’t stop the spreading of a smile on his face. “Well, Franz is sleeping at my desk on top of my work I really need to go over. Could you maybe get him?” You had to laugh. “Yes. Sorry about him. I think he can sense when someone has to work but needs a break. He does that a lot to me too.”

Spencer giggled as he turned his key to open the front door. He let you in before closing the door softly. “Right over there.” He pointed at where his desk was. As you walked closer you could see your cat’s sleeping form. Before you took Franz into your arms you wrote down your name and number.

Franz protested but was immediately soothed by scratches behind his ears. You turned to Spencer and nodded at the Post-it with your information. “Just in case he bothers you again.” Spencer grinned brightly, “Franz could never!” You gave him a look.

The next day at work there was a sudden call on your private phone. It was strange at this hour of the day; your friends knew when you had broken and if they needed you urgently they called on your work phone. You looked at the caller ID and everything became clear. “Hey, Y/N! It’s Spencer. He’s back! What kind of cat food does he like?”

Wanna read more of Spencer? Click here Wanna stay updated? Click here Wanna request something? Click here

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#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fandom

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devilat-thedoor · 7 months

Text

Sweet to Taste II

blame @ignite-my-fire she asked for it👀

This one is really nothing but forbidden twin filth. But shoutout to these babes for being so supportive💖 @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @gvfpal @jakesguitarsolo

Word Count: 4.6k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader x Sam Kiszka

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI(Voyeurism, Fingering, Pussy Slapping🫣, Oral(m rec), Unprotected Sex, Spanking, Very Mild Edging, Squirting) Dom!Jake & Soft-Dom!Sam deserve a warning of their own, let’s be real. Oh, and the aftercare🥹

🌟🌟🌟

“Y/N, your 5 top at table six needs refills.” Your coworker, Jess, nudged you, yanking you from your daydream, “Are you good? You keep, like, zoning out…” She placed her tray down, eyeing you.

Standing up straight, you tucked your pen into a pocket on your apron and turned around to grab yourself an empty tray, “Yeah, I’m fine… It’s just been a long shift.” You pulled your notepad out, reading over the table six drink orders, and began filling new cups. Putting on the friendliest face you could muster, you picked the tray up and dropped the drinks off, picking up the empty glasses. Walking back towards the kitchen to get rid of the dishes, your mind began to wander again. Every thought, for the past two weeks, has been Jake and Sam and the night you’d shared with them. You woke up the next morning, tangled between the two of them, and though you had no shame about what went down, you couldn’t be sure they felt the same. When you climbed over Jake to go to the bathroom, he grabbed your waist with one hand, weaving his fingers through your hair with the other to pull you in for a kiss. You could feel Sammy’s eyes on you but you didn’t think anything of it until you finally broke away from the older boy to use the bathroom and came back to find both of them gone. When your calls and texts went unanswered that day, you knew something was up. You gave it a couple of days before you tried to reach out again and when you did, you finally got an answer out of Sam, letting you know that they’d be out of town for a bit. That was a week and a half ago and you haven’t heard anything since…until now. Your phone began to vibrate in your apron pocket and you dug it out to read the caller ID. Jake… Dropping the tray of cups by the dishwasher, you rushed out of the kitchen, “Jess, can you cover for me for a few minutes?” You held your phone up, signaling that you had a call, as she nodded in approval.

“Hello?” You held the phone to your ear as you stepped outside.

His voice came through, sending butterflies through your stomach, “Hey beautiful. You busy tonight?”

You tried to play it cool, but you were practically vibrating with excitement, “Depends… Did you have something in mind?”

“I did.” He paused for a moment, “Josh is having a party at his place tonight. Come. I want to see you… We both do.”

You knew he meant he and Sam, but you were a little disappointed that you wouldn’t have them alone, “Umm. yeah, okay. What time?”

“Be there by 9. See you.” He hung up before you could even say goodbye and the confusion in your brain only multiplied.

You had barely gotten a shred of attention from either of them since that night and now you’re being asked to go to a party because they miss you? It was definitely weird, but you were aching to see them, so of course you’d show up.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

After you’d gotten off work at 6, you went straight home to shower and get ready. A bit of mascara and some lip gloss later, you were pulling on your favorite casual dress. Black and form fitting, hugging your body in all the right places, with thin straps that tied into bows on your shoulders. You fastened your hair into a high ponytail, letting it dangle down your neck. Pulling on a pair of boots and your leather jacket, you took one last look at yourself in the floor length mirror before grabbing your phone and keys to head out. You pulled up to Josh’s, his driveway already lined with cars and people scattered around the outside of the property. The music was loud, filtering through the opened front door as you made your way inside. You made a beeline for the kitchen in search of a drink.

As you stood at the counter, pouring tequila into a cup, a pair of hands landed on your waist, snaking around to wrap you in their hold, “I was wondering when you’d show up.” He bent down, lips right against your neck as he whispered, “I like this dress, babe…a little short though.” He pinched the hem between his fingers, letting his knuckles graze your thigh.

“I knew you’d like the dress, Sammy.” You spun around in his arms, slinging your own over his shoulders, “But I expected you to spend the night avoiding me.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Avoid you? I could never.” He dropped a hand to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he held eye contact, “You and Jake were pretty cozy… I was just giving you the space to explore that.” The smirk on his lips was hinting that he was up to something, “In fact, he’s looking for you now.” His hands left your body as he pointed behind you, “You should probably go say hi.”

You looked in the direction he was pointing to find Jake watching you intently, but even from a distance, you could see the playful smirk on his face. Turning back to Sam, you grabbed his wrist before he could disappear, “You have my attention right now. Jake can wait.” You hooked your hand into the front of his waistband yanking him against you, “Unless you have someone else waiting on you?” Your fingers wiggled against the short bit of hair just beneath his jeans.

“Nobody who’s attention is worth more than yours.” He bent forward, his hand grasping the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. You bit down on his lip, drawing a growl from deep in his chest, “Make yourself a drink and come find me.” He broke away from you, slipping through the sea of people littering the kitchen. Turning back to the counter, you picked up your cup, tossing back the clear liquid in it.

“You want some lime with that, mama?” Josh appeared at your side as you poured more liquor.

You put the bottle down, pulling him into a hug, “Nope, having it straight tonight. Have a shot with me!” You handed him the bottle and took your cup.

He fake clinked the bottle with you, “Cheers, Y/N!” He brought the neck to his lips, taking a couple chugs while you swallowed your own. Josh shook his body out with a grimace, “I’ll catch up with you later, mama. Have fun!” He grasped your face, pressing a sloppy, wet kiss to your cheek before skipping into the crowd. You allowed yourself one more shot before going to search for Sammy.

Rounding the doorway out of the kitchen, you saw Jake talking with a few people in the corner or the dining room. His eyes flicked to you for the tiniest second before going back to the girl in front of him, barely acknowledging you. Oh really? You sauntered towards him, a sweet smile plastered on your face, “Not even a hi, Jake?”

He let his gaze settle on you a little longer this time, taking in your outfit, “Hi.” He returned to his conversation as you stared at him. When he realized you weren’t leaving, he turned to face you completely, “I’m having a conversation.” He leaned in, dropping his voice for you and only you, “Be a good girl and go find Sam to keep you company until I’m finished.”

You couldn’t deny the rush you felt at his command as you whispered a “Yes, sir.” and scampered off to look for Sammy.

You found him sitting on the couch in the living room, puffing on a cigarette between his fingers, “Josh would kill you if he found out you’re smoking in his house.” He waved his hands dismissively, unbothered by your claim as he licked his lips, staring at your legs, “You’re an ass. Gimme.” You plucked the stick from his hold and dropped into a random cup on the coffee table, listening to the sizzle as the cherry went out.

“C’mere, babe.” Sam yanked on your hand, pulling you down on his lap, “When can we get the fuck out of here?” He flattened his palm against your abdomen, pushing you to sit back against his chest, “I just wanna peel this dress off…” His breath was hot on your skin as he whispered in your ear, bunching the fabric up in his fist.

You tilted your head to him, flashing a devilish smirk, “Why the rush, baby? Isn’t the party just getting good?” You circled your hips, effectively grinding into him. When you turned your attention back to the rest of the room, you scanned the crowd for the other Kiszka, finding him in a conversation with another man.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Y/N.” His teeth nipped at the shell of your ear, “If you think I won’t throw you down in front of all these people, you’re sorely mistaken, babe.” Sam’s hand left your sternum to rest on your leg.

You watched his hand tickle along your skin, squeezing the inside of your thigh, “I think you know I always finish, Sammy?” The music was loud and the lights too low to emit any kind of glow over the two of you, “Don’t make empty threats…”

You felt his tongue glide up your neck, “You wanna make him watch, don’t you?” His hand lingered on your thigh, fingers teasing higher.

You tore your eyes from his hand, looking up to see Jake across the room, surrounded by other party guests but his gaze unmistakably transfixed on you, “I just think he might enjoy the show, Sammy.” You shivered as he finally made it beneath your dress.

His eyes widened as he dragged a finger over you, “You’re not wearing- Fuck, babe…”

“Oops…must’ve slipped my mind.” You shrugged as you held eye contact with Jake, his stare burning deep into your skin. A gasp escaped you as he slid through your folds and you parted your legs just an inch further.

He teeth were just barely digging at your shoulder as he stared down, “You’re so fucking wet, babe.” He was swirling his calloused fingers over your clit, smiling to himself as you fought to keep your whimpers down. He dipped his hand lower, pushing the tip of his middle finger through your entrance to feel you instantly clench around it, “Shit… She needs me, huh? Practically begging for my fingers.”

You struggled to keep your eyes on Jake as Sam pushed his finger deeper. You could’ve sworn you watched his gaze narrow, his tongue darting out over his lip, right before your eyes flitted. All of your focus went back to the younger Kiszka, “More, Sammy.” You cupped your hand over top of his, dropping your head to his shoulder, as he added a second finger, “Hmmm…”

He let out a quiet chuckle, “I bet she’d prefer my cock, wouldn’t she?” His eyes were flicking around the room, making sure your display stayed unnoticed, “If you just sit up a little, I could slip right inside, babe. No one would even know.” The deep rasp of his voice was enticing, making you want to throw all your inhibitions out the window, “He’s getting pissed… You think he’ll stick around to watch you cum on my hand?” Sam curled his fingers, eliciting a high pitched whine from you. His free hand came up to grip your face, turning your head enough to sink his mouth onto your own, swallowing up the noise.

You were completely lost in the feeling of Sammy, you didn’t catch Jake storming through the plethora of people, “Are you fucking done?” His fingers wrapped around your wrist, plucking you from Sam’s lap.

You yelped as Sam retracted his hand before gazing up at Jake with a giggle, “Well, I was almost done.” Looking back at the younger boy, he was laughing as well, but Jake didn’t share the amusement.

“Upstairs, now. Guest room.” He growled the command into your ear, “I need to have a word with my brother. Go.”

“Jakey, we were just-“

His nostrils flared as he stared at you, “One more word and I’ll see to it that you don’t cum at all. Go.” He pointed towards the staircase. You didn’t argue, just turned and scurried up to Josh's guest room, closing the door behind you. You sat on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do or what was to come, as you fidgeted with your hands. Kicking your boots off, you climbed onto the mattress, sitting with your legs tucked beneath you and waited for them. Several minutes had passed when the door finally opened and the brother’s came through it, both wearing wicked grins, “I hope it was worth it, baby… Didn’t anybody ever tell you that your actions have consequences?” Jake was coming across the room as Sam locked the door.

You swallowed hard, building the courage for what you were about to say, “What’s the matter, Jake? I thought you’d enjoy watching?” You tried to look as innocent as possible.

He was in front of you in a flash, holding your jaw in one hand while he undid his jeans with the other, “You think that was your idea? Think you’re in charge?” He let out a deep laugh, taking his hand from your face to dig into his pocket, “Baby, you’re not the only one who likes to make bets.” He pulled out a hundred dollar bill, passing it to his brother while keeping his eyes on you.

“He didn’t think you’d do it. Not in the middle of the party… But I know you, babe.” Sam took the money with a smile, “To be fair, I was gonna let you cum before he interrupted, but I think he felt left out.” He nodded to the older boy.

Your eyes darted back and forth between them, “You guys- Wait… What was the bet?”

“Well,” Jake grasped the hem of your dress to lift it over your head, “Sam kept going on and on about how you’re always down for anything, never one to shy away from a challenge.” He waited for you to raise your arms, removing the garment to toss it to the floor, “I bet him that he couldn’t get you to open up for him in a crowded room tonight- lay down.” He pushed on your shoulders, guiding you to lay on your back, “Deep down, I knew you’d fold… But I was a bit surprised at how quickly you spread your legs for him.” He pulled you to the edge of the bed, pushing your legs apart, “Putting this sweet pussy on display for anybody to see, no hesitation.” He bit down on his lip, petting your clit with the pad of his thumb.

The light touch made you whine, “No it- Fuck… It wasn’t for-“ Your breath caught as he applied more pressure.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, what was that?” His thumb continued its movement while he pushed two fingers through your entrance, “Come on. Use your words.”

“You, Jake.” It was a breathless huff, your hands digging at the blanket below you, “It wasn’t for anyone…It-It was for you to see.”

Sam crawled onto the bed behind you, taking your hands into his and holding them, “She was so fucking wet, Jake. She likes being watched.”

“She’s still soaked, brother.” He pulled his fingers from you, rapidly flicking them over your cunt to hear the vulgar, splashy sounds, while Sammy moved his hands to your tits, pinching your nipples between his fingers.

You were writhing on the bed, the stimulation from both of them driving you wild, “Please… I’ve been waiting for weeks.” You were lifting your hips to meet Jake’s hand, “Aaah. Fuck, Jake.” You whimpered as his hand cracked down over your pussy, sending a shockwave through you.

“Normally, I’d like to hear you beg, baby…” His fingers pushed back into you, “But we’re gonna take our time with you tonight and begging won’t move things along, only compliance will.” He thrusted deep, curling his fingers against your sweet spot, “Understand?” He repeated the action a second time.

Acting purely out of feral need, you rolled your hips into his hand, earning yourself another harsh slap, “FUCK. I’m sorry. I-I understand.” You gripped onto Sam’s wrists as he continued massaging your breast.

Jake ripped his shirt off and pulled himself from his already unbuttoned jeans, “That’s good, beautiful.” He grabbed his cock, stroking it as he stood between your legs, “I wanna hear you make all those dirty noises.” He slipped his head through your folds, allowing the wetness to coat his tip, before burying himself inside of you, “Don’t hold out on me.”

You winced at the stretch, digging your nails into Sammy’s arms with a hiss, “Christ, Jacob!” You looked up to see the smug smile planted on his face as he began drawing his hips back. He moved slowly, making sure you felt every fine detail.

He left only the tip in, bringing his fingers back to your clit to draw a series of whines from you, “That’s it, baby. Let me know just how good I make you feel.” Jake slammed back into you without warning, smiling at the cry you let out. He kept this up for what felt like an eternity, drawing out to tease your throbbing clit just to fill you back up for a short second.

Your mind was swimming, unable to form any thoughts outside of release. Knowing you wouldn’t get anywhere with Jake, you turned your attention to Sam, who always had a soft spot for you, “Sammy… Baby, please.” You gazed up at him, brows pinched as shaky whimpers fell from your lips, “P-please, I need-.”

“Shhh. It’s okay, babe. I’ll take care of you.” He let his fingers graze your cheeks in the softest touch before looking to his brother, “Jake, let me have her.”

Jake met his eyes, the two of them caught in a staring contest, before he finally relented, “Fine… You give into her too easily. She’s got you wrapped around her finger.�� He pulled himself out of you, allowing the other boy to take his place, “Flip her over, I want to fuck her pretty face.”

Sam gripped your legs, flipping you in a swift movement and placing your feet on the floor, “I think I like this view better anyways.” He kept your chest pressed into the mattress and slapped his palm across your ass, enjoying the way it bounced and rippled, before bending to leave a kiss right over his red handprint. He took note of how your body shuddered from the contact, “Did you like that, Y/N?” He slapped your ass again, adding a red welt to the other cheek.

“Mhmm. Do it again, Sammy.” Your plea was followed up by a dulcet hum.

His palm came down harder, leaving a sharp sting, “Your pussy is fucking dipping, babe. She loves it.” He rubbed his hands over your flesh, soothing the skin, “Let’s see just how wet she can get.”

You heard the sound of his zipper right before he was pushing into you. He had a tight grip on your hip, filling you slowly, “Oh god, baby. You feel so fucking good.” You dropped your face to the mattress, allowing the thick comforter to muffle your loud groan.

His hips began snapping into you, the thunderous sounds filling the room, “I feel better than him, don’t I?” His tone was mocking and you were sure he was looking directly at Jake as he spoke, “I know just how to spoil your sweet pussy…make her cry for me.” He was pounding into you, making it impossible for you to utter anything other than pitched cries.

You felt the bed shake a bit before a hand was twirling around your ponytail to lift your head from the blanket, “I’ll give you something better to muffle those sounds, beautiful.” Jake sat back on his heels, resting just close enough that your mouth was right over his dick, “Open up, baby.” He knotted the hair around his fist, lowering your head back down. You parted your lips, letting him slide into your mouth with ease, “You’re listening so well tonight. Being so good for us.” He allowed you to bob your head, taking him slowly as you moaned around his length. After a few moments, he pressed down on the back of your head, holding it in place as he hit your throat. Tears filled your eyes, gags heaving from the depths of your esophagus as you attempted to push yourself off of him, “Ahh. Sam, grab her hands.” Sammy hooked his hands around your elbows, pulling them behind your back, his thrusts never faltering. Jake lifted your face from his cock, watching proudly as you fought for a breath, more saliva dripping from your mouth with every gasping cough, “Go ahead and breathe, baby.” He gave you a few more seconds before bringing your mouth back, gliding along your tongue as he dragged your head up and down on him.

“Shit… Everytime you make her gag she fucking squeezes me so tight.” Sam’s voice was low and husky, breaking through the groans in his chest, “You’re so fucking close, babe. I can feel it.” He pulled harder on your arms, forcing an arch to your back and eliciting a loud wail from you at the changed angle. His cock was hammering into your g-spot, winding the coil tighter and tight with each pass.

Jake pulled you from his length again and released your hair, “Let her down a little bit, Sam, just a few inches.” He waited for his brother to comply, loosening his hold on your arms. You watched him stroke himself through blurry vision, “Your tongue, Y/N…” His free hand went to the back of your head, guiding your mouth to his balls. You stuck your tongue out, lapping at them hungrily before sucking them into the warmth of your mouth and moaning around them, “That’s- Oh fuck, baby. That mouth is heaven.” His breathing picked up along with the pumping of his hand, “You think we should fill her up, Sammy?” You could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t going to last much longer, “Think she earned it?”

“I think we earned it, brother.” Sam spoke through gritted teeth, “But she’s there, Jake. Any second…”

You let him fall from your mouth, “Pleeeease. I need it, please let me cum.” You pouted up at Jake, begging for the release, “I’ve been good, Jakey, please.” Your moans were becoming more desperate with every stroke of Sam’s dick.

He brushed the loose hairs from your face, “Swallow all of me and Sam will let you have it, pretty girl, I promise.” You gave a weak nod, ready to explode at any given moment. Jake was sliding back into your mouth in an instant, “I could stay here forever, you do so fucking well, baby.” He was guiding your head up and down but when you sucked your cheeks in, tightly suctioning your mouth around him, that was it, “Y/N, fuck-.” He sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, his cock twitching frantically against your tongue, “Jesus, I- Fucking take it, baby. All of it.” He drove into the back of your throat, cursing under his breath as he held you in place, spilling into your mouth. Jake watched in awe as you gulped him down without a problem, savoring every last drop. He shuddered as he pulled you from his cock with an incredulous stare, “I don’t think anybody could ever compare to you…” He caught the pained expression on your face as you silently prayed for your own orgasm, “Let her have it, Sammy.” His thumb just barely ghosted over your lip when Sam was yanking you up by your arms.

“You’re so close, babe. Just let me have it.” He was in your ear, speaking through grunts as he slammed into you.

The sound of your cries was drowned out by the blood thrumming through your ears as the tension finally broke, “Sammy. Oh fuck, Sammy…” You choked out the words despite the fire spreading through your entire body, “God, I-” Your words were cut off by the flooding gush that forced Sam out of your cunt.

“No fucking way…” Sam kept a tight grip around your torso as he gaped at the puddle on the floor. He stared in awe for a couple more seconds before letting you drop to the bed to grasp your hips. He slid his cock back into you, only getting a few thrusts in before he was inevitably filling you with his release, muttering mindlessly through his heaving breaths. He carefully slipped out of you, watching his seed leak out, before Jake was distracting him.

“Sam, don’t let go of her! She’s gonna-” He was rushing to pull you onto the bed before your legs buckled beneath you. He tugged you against him, holding you close as he looked at your tired eyes, “She’s fucking spent, man. Go get something to clean her up…and a towel for the floor.”

Sam yanked his shirt over his head, giving it to his brother, “Put her in this. I’ll steal a pair of boxers from Josh’s room.” He waited for Jake to pull the shirt over your head, buttoning his jeans back up, before heading out of the room.

“You okay, baby? We didn’t go too far, did we?” He got your arms through the sleeves as you shook your head with a soft hum and your eyes started to close, “You’re tired, I know… Just wait until Sammy gets back with a washcloth and then we can go straight to sleep, pretty girl.” Your legs were still trembling as you curled into him and he rubbed gentle circles on your back.

Sam came barreling back into the guest room, tripping over his own feet, “I grabbed her some water, I think she lost a lot.” He said it with a chuckle as he dropped a towel over the mess you’d made and climbed onto the bed with the rag, “Here, babe, let me see.” He pushed your legs apart, making quick work of wiping you down, taking extra care around your sensitive bits, “Okay, can you just lift a little bit for me, Y/N?” You watched through barely opened eyes as he dropped the cloth on top of the towel and slid the stolen boxers over your legs. You lifted your hips with Jake’s help, allowing Sammy to secure the waistband in its proper place.

“Alright, baby.” Jake broke away from you to climb off the bed, prompting his younger brother to do the same, “We’re gonna let you rest.” He made sure you were nestled snug into the pillows before pulling the duvet over you.

You felt Sam press his lips to your temple and reached for him before he could pull away, “Stay with me. Both of you.” Your voice was raspy, riddled with sleep already, “Please.” You tugged on his hand, dragging him to lay down with you. Once you felt Sam settle in, you held your hand out to Jake, “Jakey…” You mewled, coaxing him towards you. He finally took your hand, sliding into the blankets beside you. Fully enveloped in the warmth of your two favorite boys, you started to drift, sleep taking you fast.

You felt your body relax into the mattress, the last thing you heard as your consciousness slipped away was Sammy’s voice, laced with an arrogant pride, “I made her fucking squirt, Jake.” . . . . .

#jake kiszka #sammy kiszka #jake kiszka smut #jake gvf #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka smut #jake kiszka x reader #forbidden twins x reader #forbidden twins smut #forbidden twins #gvf #greta van fleet #sam kiszka fic #jake kiska fic #sinsofstardust

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navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

A Sunny Outlook

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: After everything Andy has been through, his outlook on life is a bit jaded. Until you show up. Word Count: Almost 1.3k Warnings: Defending Jacob spoilers/Mix of canon and canon divergent (talk of divorce, child death), slight angst, opposites attract, future smut and feels (it's me), Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Tenth and final day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to new couple, Grumpy and Sunny! Set in the same AU as Hottie and Sugar, I mixed up my list a bit and plan to share Thorn and Rose at a later date. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Andy edit by the beautiful @randomagnes0210. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If you would’ve told Andy Barber years ago that he’d be living his life today as a tattoo artist, he wouldn’t have believed you. He had his path carved out. Life didn’t care what people wanted though, no matter how hard they worked to get it.

“Um, Mr. Barber?” Jake called out to him from the desk.

"How many times have I told you to call me 'Andy'? For fuck's sake," Andy snapped.

"Sorry, Mr. Bar- Andy!"

Andy took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled. He didn't mean to snap at Jake. He was a good guy. One of the nicest around. It wasn't his fault he was in a bad mood.

Which was his mood most days.

"No, I'm sorry," he said.

He wasn’t always a jaded man. Though his dad had been in jail his entire life, he thankfully had a good childhood overall. It helped set him on his path to become a lawyer, as he wanted to help others. He also made a promise to himself to be a good father if that day would ever come. He thought he had that chance to make that dream a reality with his college sweetheart, Laurie.

As a lawyer, he enjoyed his work. It challenged him and helped him grow. It was also stressful depending on the case. Long hours and seeing some people at their worst didn’t always leave him in the best headspace. But he had his wife and they had their son, Jacob.

Life was good.

Until his world got a little darker.

“This isn’t working, Laurie.”

“No, it isn’t."

Andy couldn’t put his finger on why and he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that Laurie was on the same page. Love took a lot of work and sometimes it wasn’t enough to make a marriage last. Not that they didn’t give it a try. They met with a counselor. Neither of them stepped out on each other. They wanted desperately to make it work for their kid.

But the loss of their son solidified the end of their marriage.

“Andy, I know you blame me.”

The thing is Andy didn’t put that on her. It was the bad weather that caused her to spin out of control. But she carried guilt for fighting with their son before the crash. It was something she couldn’t let go of.

The divorce was as ammicable as it could be, but it didn’t stop him from feeling like a failure. Work couldn’t distract him either. How was he expected to help people, some who were not even innocent, when he couldn’t help himself?

Tears filled his eyes as he sat in his empty house, trying to figure out what the hell was he supposed to do with his life. He didn’t want to go back into the office. He also didn’t want to drink himself to death. In a drunken stupor he called an old friend of his.

Steve Rogers.

One of the most honorable men Andy had the pleasure of knowing. While he went off to law school, Steve joined the army. The last he heard, he became a tattoo artist with another friend and army buddy, Bucky Barnes. He felt like an ass calling when he hadn’t reached out in so long, but the inebriated part of his brain didn’t process that.

“I don’t know what to do,” was all he said on the voicemail.

He woke up the next morning with a text message from Steve: “You any good at drawing?”

It was the beginning of his new chapter.

"You are never gonna get laid if you keep snapping at everyone," Hal winked as he walked by his chair.

"Get fucked," he said with only a hint of malice as Hal chuckled.

"I'm tryin'!"

"Give him a break," Steve said from his station, but he was smiling, too.

Like Jake, it was hard to get mad at a guy like Hal. A charming piercer who drifted from place to place before he met up with Steve and Bucky, he did some of the best work in the city. He was sure some came into the new shop just to hit on him.

"What is it, Jake?" he asked as he stood up and stretched.

"Your consultation is here about the sun tattoo," he explained, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. "Said she saw some of your work online."

Andy took another breath. He prided himself on the portfolio he built. It took him time to build and he didn't have as much clientele as Steve and Bucky, but he was slowly catching up. He was proud of the work he accomplished.

"Yeah, send her over," he said. He had a few minutes before his next appointment. "Thanks."

Jake rushed off before he could say another word, likely afraid he'd snap again. He'd have to apologize again later. He should've been happy. The opening of the shop went well. He liked his place in the city.

What the hell was his problem?

"Hi!"

Andy blinked when you stood in front of him. He wasn't used to seeing such a cheerful smile on someone’s face. Not directed at him, at least. He would've thought it was fake if not for the kindness in your eyes.

Ironic that you wanted a sun tattoo since he saw the world as much darker a long time ago.

Would the sun still shine in your eyes if I had you spread out under me?

Where the fuck did that thought come from?

He didn't lust after potential clients. He hadn't even done one night stand after Laurie. Why did seeing your happy, beautiful face make him want to change his mind?

Why did your smile get to him?

"Um, I can come back another time," you offered, as if you inconvenienced him by walking over.

The mere presence of you rendered Andy speechless until he remembered he had to speak.

"No, it's okay. Please, have a seat," he stood up to pull a chair over. "I'm Andy."

Your smile was back on your face as you gave him your name.

Beautiful, just like you.

"I just want to say real quick that I love your work,” you said as you took out your phone. “I can’t believe I was lucky enough to get in so quickly.”

"I appreciate that,” he said. The compliment meant a lot. “It’s a sun tattoo you want, right?"

“Yeah. My friends call me Sunny because I’m what they call a ‘big ball of sunshine’,” you explained.

“I can’t imagine why,” he deadpanned. You looked like you were trying to hold in a laugh as you set your phone down. “Something funny?”

“Do people tell you that you’re grumpy?” you asked curiously. "Or is it a requirement that at least half of the staff here have to look intimidating?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he wasn’t the least bit offended. “People tell me almost every day."

“I can’t imagine why,” you echoed with a smile.

"And if only half of us look intimidating, then we aren't doing our job."

“Don't worry. I won't tell," you mock whispered.

He actually smiled back at you before he frowned and cleared his throat. He refused to let you consume his thoughts, even if your bright aura began to chip away at his tough exterior. “Then why don’t you tell me more about your tattoo.”

He listened intently as you explained the kind of sun design you wanted and where. He had a feeling by the time he finished your consultation, he'd be in a much better mood. Even if he didn’t want to be. And your tattoo would be his best work yet.

Andy's world may be a bit brighter thanks to you. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #navy's naughty & nice nonsense #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #tattoo artist!andy barber x reader #andy barber #tattoo artist!andy barber #grumpy and sunny #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber imagine #andy barber au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans

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somber-sapphic · 10 months

Note

hello! i’m like obsessed with your writing and would really like request another marina x reader with the 99.9% immunity and the milking it types of sickie. have a wonderful day/ night 😊

Sniffles and Snuggles

〖Notes: Wow, this is late. I'm sorry it took so long, please enjoy. I know the ending is a bit rushed.〗

〖Summary: Perfect immune system my ass.〗

〖Word Count: 1884 〗

〖Pairing: marina x reader〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gotten sick. Not an exaggeration, you genuinely couldn’t remember. Maya had a stomach bug a few months ago and she had assured you that you would end up getting it, basically promising that you would soon be joining her on the bathroom floor.

Not to brag, but you hadn’t. Instead, you’d managed to take care of the firefighter and Carina, who had succumbed to the same illness only hours after Maya. Your girlfriends were incredibly glad that you hadn’t gotten sick, both because they needed help (though they’d never admit it) and because you were….somewhat of a pain when you got sick.

It didn’t happen often, it practically never happened, but when it did you got hit hard. And when you got hit hard, you got a tad whiny. They both agreed that you had the right to be overdramatic when you got sick it was never a minor cold, it was the flu, pneumonia, food poisoning, strep, and even chickenpox. The three of you were all confused about that last one, but you had been holding onto your girlfriends with everything you had.

The morning you woke up with a stuffy nose and a sore throat you knew that you were in for a week of hell. The alarm blared in your ear, pleading with you to turn it off and get ready for the day. The sound hammered against your skull, pounding nails of fire into your brain. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t make yourself get up. You couldn’t move, your stiff limbs absolutely refused the orders to move.

“Y/n, turn it off,” Maya grumbled, nudging you in the hip with her knee. She was wrapped around Carina with one of her legs draped over your torso. The woman was practically the definition of a bed hog, but you couldn’t help but enjoy it. The way she starfished out across the mattress was so cute (most of the time).

When you didn’t move to quiet the alarm, she sat up, groaning loudly as she smacked the stupid device.

“I do not know why you’re complaining, it’s your alarm, Maya,” Carina said in response, a yawn following immediately after her sentence. The blonde smacked her phone until the blaring stopped and you let out a sigh of relief, curling back up so that you were a small ball.

“Y/n? Are you okay bambina?” The brunette asked, sitting up beside Maya. You sniffled in response, rubbing your knuckles against your runny nose. A harsh cough erupted from your lips, your chest burning and your body convulsing with each expulsion of air.

You leaned over the bed and spit a glob of mucus into the trash can, wondering what was wrong with you this time. The crackling in your lungs and what was probably a middle-grade fever suggested bronchitis. You’d heard Carina talk about medicine enough to diagnose yourself pretty well over the years.

Tears sprang to your eyes and you touched your throat, the light probing of the skin causing more pain somehow. You turned to squish your face into the pillow, trying to seem less babyish than you felt. Every time you got sick your emotions went absolutely haywire and it was humiliating.

One of your girlfriends (probably Maya, she was closer) laid a hand on the nape of your neck and gasped softly. You could practically see the worry on her face even though you were facing away from her.

“Car, she’s burning up.” The blonde murmured, getting a soft curse from Carina.

“She came to see me at the hospital the other day. It was overrun with flu patients.” The Italian replied, looking a little pleased with herself for remembering the expression. You rolled over, your lower lip quivering as you looked into the loving faces of your girlfriends.

Carina leaned across Maya and laid the back of her hand against your forehead, her expression souring. She tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear and rested her palm against your cheek lovingly.

You pulled away to sneeze into your pillow, the loud sound wearing you out even further. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time that you had felt so sick, but you knew that it would probably end in hospitalization if you didn’t cooperate.

You began to cry in earnest, shaking with coughs as your sobs irritated your throat and lungs. Maya, who wasn’t always the most physically affectionate, pulled you into a tight hug, allowing you to tuck your head under her chin, against her chest.

“Okay, babe. You chose the right time to get sick because Car and I both have the day off. Just lay back down and we’ll get everything taken care of. Does that sound good?” She murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

You sniffled and nodded into her chest, beginning to feel more comfortable with the idea of being sick. It was almost frightening to think that you would be alone, but knowing that the women you loved would be there to make sure that you didn’t die was nice.

“Did you feel sick yesterday Y/n?” Carina asked, prompting you to think back to the day before. Now that she’d mentioned it, you’d felt sort of heavy yesterday and a bit tired, but you’d chalked it up to a poor night's sleep the day before.

Maya had had a particularly bad nightmare and had woken up screaming. It had just been the two of you so it had fallen to you to take care of her, to calm her down. It had been a long night for the both of you, after she finally fell back to sleep you had remained awake just in case the blonde needed you again.

“Kinda.” You rasped, wrinkling your nose in shock at how your voice sounded. It was the first word that you had spoken during the conversation and you truly hadn’t expected to sound as bad as you did, especially in just one word. It was congested and hoarse and grated against your raw throat.

“Geez, that doesn’t sound great. I’ll go make you some tea, see if we can sort that out a bit.” Maya pecked your forehead before slipping from the bed and padded out of the room on bare feet, seeming to forget about the slippers which she typically wore.

You rubbed your nose against your fist and frowned over at Carina who was scooting closer to you, wearing what you liked to call her ‘doctor face’.

“Carina-”

“Hush. May I feel?” She asked, gesturing toward your throat. God, she was preparing to give you a full exam. You loved her very much, but you hated medical professionals. You coughed into your shirt and forced yourself to sit up, a rush of dizziness flooding through your head as you did so.

“Yeah.” You mumbled, giving a weak shrug. Carina placed her hands at the base of your throat, probing swollen glands with incredibly gentle hands. She moved up to under your eyes, frowning slightly as you winced when she pressed there.

“Your sinuses feel a bit swollen. Did it hurt?” You nodded and leaned forward to lay your head on yer shoulder.

“Oh, cara mia. In a few hours if you do not feel any better we can go to Grey Sloan and get you seen.” She said gently, rubbing your back in a comforting manner. You didn’t want to go to the hospital, but if she was right about a sinus infection you knew that you wouldn’t have much of a choice.

“Alright, I’ve got chamomile tea with lemon and honey and a thermometer,” Maya announced, walking back into the room with not only that but also a bottle of what may be the most vile thing on earth: cough medicine.

“Thank you.” You managed, taking the steaming mug gratefully. You blew on the hot liquid and took a careful sip, a soft smile spreading over your cracked lips. It was the perfect temperature and although you couldn’t taste it, you were sure that it was amazing. It soothed your throat and that’s all that mattered.

“Of course babe, it’s the least I could do. What’s with the face, Carina?” The blonde asked, nodding toward the Italian woman who was gnawing on her lip with worried eyes.

“We are going to end up in the hospital. It’s always the hospital with this one.” She grumbled, squeezing your elbow affectionately. There was no real malice behind her tone, just mild annoyance mixed with concern.

Maya chuckled and sat back on the edge of the bed, scooting you over a bit. She dragged the thermometer across your forehead, resting it on your temple as the three of you waited for the beep.

“We’ll try to avoid that this time, right Y/n/n?” You cracked a smile and took another sip of the tea, settling back into bed. For now, you weren’t going anywhere. “Oh, by the way, I snuck the medicine into the tea so you’re drinking it all.”

The look on your face must have been priceless because both women started to cackle, Carina even going as far as to double over as tears came to her eyes.

“That was uncalled for.” You grumbled, eyeing the drink in a new light. It wasn’t like you could taste the medicine, but knowing that it was in there made you hesitant to drink it. Part of you debated trekking to the kitchen to dump the whole thing out.

“Drink it all and I won’t help Carina make you soup later.” Maya threatened, reminding you of her utter lack of skill in the kitchen. She had given you and Carina food poisoning once over bad lasagna and you had vowed never to eat something she cooked again.

“Fine, I’ll drink. But I want cuddles. Will you give me cuddles?” The brunette on your left wrapped her arms around your waist and kissed your collarbone, pushing her nose against your skin.

“Of course bella. All of the cuddles. We can watch whatever movie you want and I’ll make Pastina with Maya locked in another room.” Carina chuckled, nudging the tea a bit closer to your face. You took a deep sip, almost finished with the mug.

Now that you knew it was in there what was left of your sense of taste was picking up on the medicine. It was no longer the best thing that had happened in days, it was now disgusting.

“You can’t taste for shit, stop complaining. Come on, one more sip and you’re done.” With a slight eye roll (which you regretted, it hurt) you took one big gulp, finishing the rest of the medicated tea.

“You win.” You rasped, shoving the mug back towards Maya, who was wearing an amused expression on her face.

“Thank you, my dear.” She singsonged, taking the mug as she leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

A non-fever-related blush crossed your cheeks and you hummed quietly, curling back up under the blankets. For now, you could relax. Maybe it would get worse, but even if it did, these two had your back. Dating an EMT and a doctor could really come in handy.

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fortheloveofwonderland · 10 months

Text

Midnight | Chapter 8 | S.R

Not my gif. Gif does not depict appearance of reader

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Chapter Summary - you find yourself in a compromising position and have to convince Spencer you’re on his side.

A/N - fun fact this was the second chapter I wrote when I started this fic as I knew exactly how I wanted their first time to play out. Enjoy the filth!

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - restraints, swearing, blood kink, bruises, mild strangulation, mentions of rapists and murder, making out, fingering, handjob, oral (fem receiving), slight edging, penetrative sex, unprotected sex.

WC - 5.8k

Chapter 8 - Dancing With the Devil

You roused from sleep slowly, feeling yourself ebbing into consciousness as your brain languidly woke itself up. For a brief and blissful few seconds you forgot where you were and the situation you were in.

As you started to fade back into the living realm, the first thing that alerted you to the fact you weren’t at home in your own bed was when you tried to move your arms to rub your eyes. At first when they didn’t budge you thought maybe you were still asleep, not yet conscious enough to have control over your limbs.

But when you tried again, you managed to move them an inch or so before you met resistance and something felt like it was tugging against your wrists.

You blinked several times, trying to focus on your surroundings. But before you could take the room in, your eyes landed another set, sitting next to you on the bed and smiling softly at you.

“You’re awake.” Spencer mumbled softly, looking at you like you were the most important thing in the world to him.

You swallowed thickly as the memories came flooding back to you and you realised where you were. But that didn’t explain why you couldn’t move your arms. They weren’t at your sides, they were above your head. As if reading your thoughts Spencer spoke again.

“I’m sorry about the restraints, I wasn’t sure if I could trust you.” He nodded over your head and that’s when you realised something silky was wrapped around your wrists, one of his ties maybe?

You tried to pull against them but met resistance again. You whimpered a little pathetically.

“I’m sorry.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “I didn’t mean to stab you.”

“I don’t care about that.” He rolled his eyes. “You disobeyed me.”

You frowned a little, head still full of sleep as you tried to work out what he was talking about. The last few days had been a complete blur.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You croaked.

Spencer chuckled with a shake of his head, a slight amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Oh please, I know everything.” He scoffed. “You called Luke. On a pay phone which he could easily have Garcia track if he wanted to. What did you say to him?”

Oh fuck, yes you had done that hadn’t you? It seemed like so long ago now, so much had happened since then it had slipped your mind. You swallowed thickly.

“Nothing. I was just checking in. Do you really think I’d be so stupid as to tell him what’s going on? I’m complicit in all of this Spencer, if you go down I’m going down with you.”

“I can’t be too careful, Y/N.” He clucked with an amused glint in his eyes. “I will not get caught.”

“Just untie me, we can talk.” You pleaded with him but he was shaking his head.

“No, not yet.” He chuckled a little which you found to be an oddly haunting noise.

He wore a pair of dark denim jeans paired with a zip up hooded sweatshirt with a white t-shirt peeking out over the top. You’d started to grow used to seeing him in this much more casual state but only when he went out to take care of business.

“You know I don’t like to get my good suits covered in blood.” He remarked as if it was the most normal thing in the world to say.

As though you didn’t understand what he meant, he raised his arms, proffering his hands towards you. His large palms were caked in claret, his fingers too, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was under his nails as well. The blood had started to dry into the creases and wrinkles in his hands but in other places you could see it was still wet and sticky. The underside of that gold band he wore was reddened too.

The sight should have disgusted you, caused you to gasp or try to squirm away from him. But you didn’t move, barely so much as blinked. Spencer was surprised by your calmness and decided to test the waters.

He shuffled a little closer to you and raised his right hand towards your throat. He saw you swallow deeply as his hand ghosted across the thin flesh of your neck which bore bruises from the last time he’d wrapped his hand around your throat.

You kept your eyes locked on his as he pressed his palm against your windpipe. You felt the tacky blood on your skin as he wrapped his fingers around your throat. But you showed no signs of intimidation. He didn’t apply pressure, he held you limply, all the while keeping the eye contact strong. He tried to read your expression, to ascertain whether or not you were just putting on a brave face.

“Are you scared of me?” He decided to ask, keeping his hand in place on your neck.

“No,” you were quick to answer. “Should I be?”

“I have you tied to a bed and my hand around your throat while I’m covered in another man’s blood. You tell me.” He grinned wildly down at you.

“I’m not scared of you. I don’t think that you’d hurt me.”

“I wouldn’t.” His smile was hurriedly replaced by a frown. “I would never hurt you.”

“Then I have no reason to be scared. Untie me, Spence. I’m not going anywhere.”

“No.” He shook his head, removing his hand from your neck, you could feel the blood he’d left behind on your skin. “I can’t be sure you won’t run away and turn me in.”

“Spencer, you’re an excellent profiler. Look at me, you’ll see I’m not lying to you.”

You scrutinised you again, profiling you. But he quickly shook his head.

“I can’t trust my own mind anymore.”

“Yes, you can.” You tried to insist. “I gave up a lot to help you, how can I prove to you that I’m not going to betray you?”

His eyes wandered from your face for the first time, hungry eyes raking up and down your body that lay open to him on the bed. You wore a thin oversized t-shirt which made it painfully obvious to him that you didn’t wear a bra underneath. On the bottom you had on a small pair of bike shorts which allowed him a perfect view of your thighs.

You felt a little hot under his gaze, swallowing hard as he regarded you with dark eyes. His pupils were blown out wide and you felt a heat spread between your legs.

He raised his hand again, this time hovering it over your thigh. You found his gaze, trying to tell him with your eyes that you weren’t scared of him touching you. At that moment it was all you wanted. When he saw no signs of you wanting him to stop, he slowly lowered his hand until his palm was pressing against your thigh. He didn’t miss the way you seemed to relax at his touch.

Once again you felt the sticky substance transfer from Spencer’s hand to your skin and there was something so unbelievably sensual about it. He spread his fingers across your flesh, kneading his fingers into your thigh muscle and an involuntary gasp left your lips.

Spencer’s eyes darkened and his lip tugged up into a smirk. Your lips were parted and you were breathing heavily. He dared move his hand higher, leaving a trail of blood behind in his wake, until his fingers skimmed the hem of your shorts.

He’d wanted you for so long, it had been all he’d thought of as of late. And now it was possible he might actually get his wish.

You gasped again, unable to stop from pressing your thighs together as a wave of pleasure wracked your body. Spencer didn’t miss it, and his smirk only grew. It was hard to fake those little, unconditioned responses.

When he removed his hand from your leg you whimpered slightly, making Spencer chuckle. His fingertips came to toy with the bottom of your shirt, fingering the fabric and turning it red. He waited for you to tell him to stop but you didn’t. You stayed quiet and kept eye contact with him, hoping your expression told him what your words couldn’t.

When you didn’t offer up any resistance, he moved his hand beneath your shirt and brushed his palm over the planes of your stomach, across your ribcage and finally he moved to cup one of your breasts. Your nipple hardened almost instantly under his hand and he flicked it a few times with his finger, watching intently the way his hand moved beneath your shirt.

You pressed your thighs together again and whined at the way in which it seemed to be so easy for him to turn you on. You let your eyes flick down to his crotch, wondering if you had the same effect on him. You felt heady when your eyes landed on the obvious tenting in his jeans.

When he removed his hand from under your t-shirt you whined again, and Spencer chuckled darkly, adjusting himself a little on the bed.

“Who knew you were such a little deviant, Y/N.”

“We all have a dark side, Spencer.” You rolled your lip between your teeth.

“You like that I killed those men.” He laughed, reaching behind himself and unsheathing the blade tucked in the back of his jeans.

He held it up to the light, blood staining the otherwise shiny metal. He surveyed you again, trying to detect any little hint of fear but saw none.

“Tell me about him.” You nodded at the blade.

“He was a serial rapist.” Spencer spat. “He raped at least nine women but the cops couldn’t prove it. I would have been almost less annoyed had he killed them after, but he left them alive and they have to look in the mirror everyday and remember what he did to them.”

“But he’s not going to be able to do it again.” You shrugged. “You made sure of that.”

“I did.” He nodded, almost proudly. “He begged me not to do it. He cried as I took my blade to his throat. But I couldn’t let him hurt anyone else.”

“One less evil in the world.” You agreed with him.

A part of you wished you were just acting, playing along with Spencer so as to ensure your own freedom. But in a weird way, you understood why he’d done what he had. He’d taken things into his own hands, he’d rid the world of a sick and twisted individual. A part of you even admired him for doing so.

“Do you trust me?” He suddenly asked you.

“I do.” You nodded. “Completely.”

Spencer leant closer to you, moving the knife until it was on your throat where his hand had been not so long ago. He pressed the tip of the blade against your skin, just enough for you to feel a little pressure but not so much that he would pierce the skin. And you didn’t even flinch because you weren’t lying, you did trust him. He could have gotten his own back on you for stabbing him but somehow you knew he wouldn’t.

“I could so easily slice your throat right now.” He frowned a little. “But you really aren’t scared, are you?”

“No, not even a little bit. You have no reason not to trust me, Spencer. Let me help you.” You begged him as he sat back and moved the blade away from your neck.

He ran it down the centre of your torso gently, coming to a stop somewhere around your belly button. With his free hand he bunched your t-shirt up before piercing the fabric with the knife. He dragged it upwards, creating a hole in the shirt of a few inches. Then he suddenly dropped the blade on the floor and brought his now free hand up to your shirt and using the hole he’d created, ripped the offending piece of material in half in one swift move.

You gasped at the sound of the fabric tearing and the cool air hitting your bare skin. He pulled it apart completely, tugging the two pieces of your t-shirt to your biceps. He hissed at your exposed chest, a trail of blood from your stomach and his bloody handprint across your breast.

“I marked you.” He smiled, staring at your chest wildly.

“And I’d let you do it again.” You told him and he believed you.

He chuckled as he got to his feet, making you whine which made him laugh more. Now he was standing, his erection was even more noticeable, straining at the front of his jeans.

He kept his eyes on you as he dragged the zipper of his hoody down and pulled it apart, revealing the bloodstained white tee he wore underneath.

You gasped loudly, but it wasn’t in fear. He watched you squeeze your thighs together as he rid himself of the hoody.

“Who knew you’d been this tantalised by blood?” He cocked an eyebrow at you. “I’ll be right back, princess.”

“What? Where are you going?” You simpered, wriggling on the bed.

“I need to get myself cleaned up. I can’t very well put these hands between those delicious legs covered in someone else’s blood. That would just be foolish.”

A moan erupted from your lungs and you saw the sound made Spencer stumble on his feet. You tugged at your restraints, desperate to be able to touch him.

“Let me help you?” You begged him. “Please, please let me help.”

Spencer rolled his bottom lip between his teeth in contemplation. You didn’t think there was any way he would bow to your wishes, he was clearly enjoying this exertion of power. So you were surprised to say the least when he sighed and stepped closer to the bed.

He leant over you, and for a moment you thought he might kiss you. His breath fanned over your face and he chuckled at the way in which it made you tremble. His hands came to rest on your biceps but didn’t stay there long before they were gliding up your forearms towards the tie knotted at your wrists. He toyed with the restraint, looking you dead in the eyes.

“If you double cross me again, I will have to kill you, you understand that right? I don’t want to, it’s the last thing I ever want to do. But it’s a dog eat dog world and if I have to, I will.”

“I understand.” You nodded and he smiled at you. You were only mildly self-conscious at the fact your chest was still exposed.

You felt his deft fingers make quick work of the tie and soon it was loose enough for you to slip your hands out. Your arms were dead weight and fell heavily to the bed, how long you’d been tied up like that was anybody's guess. How you hadn’t woken up when he’d done it was a mystery too.

Spencer left the other end of the makeshift restraint tied to the head board, just in case. He took hold of one of your hands, more claret transferring between the two of you, and helped you into a sitting position on the bed.

Your hands tingled with pins and needles as you allowed Spencer to guide you to your feet. He kept hold of your hand and led you wordlessly towards the motel bathroom. He nudged the door open with his hip and tugged you inside.

When he let go of your hand, you let the torn pieces of your shirt fall off of your arms and onto the floor. Spencer eyed you up and down, at the blood he’d marked your flesh with and smiled to himself. He took a step closer and took hold of your hands again, placing them at the hem of his t-shirt, his eyes telling you all you needed to know.

Your hands were trembling a little as you slowly started peeling the fabric upwards, your knuckles brushing lightly against his ribcage. He hissed slightly at your featherlight touch and lifted his arms to enable you to pull the t-shirt over his head.

You quickly dropped it to the floor and looked at him, his alabaster skin stained with the blood that had seeped through his shirt. The wound you’d inflicted upon him was still dressed but was now smeared with blood, you could only assume it wasn’t his own. At least you hoped it wasn’t. He smiled at you and stepped dangerously closer.

“We match.” He teased, one hand snaking around you and gripping the back of your neck tightly. “How about my pants, princess?”

As quickly as he was touching you, he removed his hand again and stepped back, motioning towards the button of his jeans he was still straining against.

You swallowed and with your hands still shaking, you reached for the button. Your hand ghosted over his erection and he gasped deeply, bucking his hips a little. You fumbled with the button a little due to your nerves but once you popped it open, you helped him shimmy the jeans down his legs.

He kicked them off, leaving him in the most sinfully tight pair of black boxers that barely contained his throbbing length. You subconsciously pressed your thighs together again but he must have noticed it because he smirked at you.

While you were busy staring at him, wondering what he would feel like inside of you, he reached behind himself and you were a little startled when the shower started spitting out water. He chuckled as you jumped slightly at the sound and took a few steps away from you, towards the shower. He put his hands on his hips, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his boxers.

“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours?” He winked at you and you were sure you almost collapsed.

It only occurred to you then that this was not the Doctor Spencer Reid you’d come to know in your time at the BAU. The Doctor Reid you’d known had been shy, socially awkward and a little nerdy. This man in front of you sure looked like him, but the confidence he exuded was so new to you. But god if it wasn’t the sexiest thing in the whole world.

You found yourself nodding dumbly, mirroring his stance and hooking your own fingers in the waistband of your shorts. You made eye contact and simultaneously you both started lowering your final items of clothing.

For some reason you felt too embarrassed to look down, like it was an invasion of his privacy so you kept your eyes on his face. Out of politeness he did the same.

It wasn’t as though you hadn’t already seen enough, the night in the Chapmanville Inn still fresh in your mind and the silhouette of Spencer’s body through the shower curtain carved into your memory. But this was different.

He reached for your hand once more and tugged you closer, stepping back into the shower cubicle and pulling you inside with him. He moved under the shower head and took hold of your other hand, bringing them both up to his chest. You opened them and placed your palms flush on his blood stained skin. You watched as the water started to cleanse him, the blood beginning to be washed away.

The blood mixed with the water and rolled down his body, pooling in the drain. You noticed your hands starting to shed the claret too. Spencer brought his still stained hands up to tentatively cup your breasts. Noticing the way you whimpered at his touch, he dared to start massaging them beneath deft hands, cleaning the blood from your skin.

“It’ll be a shame to wash this away.” He smirked dangerously at you, continuing to clean you of the blood he’d bestowed upon you.

You desperately wanted to move your hands down his body, feel every inch of him but you were too afraid. Clearly he was the one in control here and you didn’t want to push your luck in case this ended in a cloud of smoke.

Suddenly he tore his hands away from you and you couldn’t help but whine at the lack of contact. Spencer chuckled to himself, reaching for the wall mounted shower gel dispenser and depositing some into one hand.

He lathered the soap between his hands, ridding himself of the blood that had once stained him before using the remnants to return to your chest and clean you properly.

Following his lead you reached past him for the dispenser, all the while he was rubbing your breasts and you thought you might explode. You rubbed the soap in your hands before returning the favour and starting to clean his chest.

He closed his eyes as the water fell around him, lost in the way your hands felt against his skin. It had been a long time since he’d been touched in such a way and it was making him harder than imaginable. As much as he enjoyed this, it wasn’t enough.

He started moving you backwards, still rubbing your breasts as he did so, until your back was against the glass shower partition. His hands wandered for the first time from your breasts down to your hips and you wanted to feel his body against you but he kept his distance.

He clutched your hips desperately in his hands, fingers digging into your flesh and would probably leave yet more bruises. He edged his face closer to you, leaving space between your bodies and his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear.

“Do you want this?” He breathed, for the first time sounding so unsure.

“How can you even ask me that?” You replied, snaking your arms around his neck.

“If we do this…” he pressed his lips against your ear, breathing into your skin. “There’s no going back for me. If we do this, you belong to me.”

A whine left your lips and your body trembled at his words. It was the only thing you wanted.

“Spencer,” you whispered back, running your nails along the base of his neck in his wet hair. “I already belong to you.”

He hissed and suddenly his body jerked forward, his hips slamming against you and finally allowing you to feel his hard cock pressing against you.

One hand moved from your hip to your jaw and held it firmly in his hand, drawing you in quickly and crushing your lips together.

You felt all the air leave your lungs when he kissed you, as though you’d been leading up to this moment your whole life. You melted into him, throwing caution to the wind and letting this man own you entirely.

He parted your lips and plunged his tongue inside your mouth, letting go of your jaw and taking purchase on your hip again. He grinded roughly against you, making you moan. You could tell he was big, and all you wanted was to feel him inside of you.

He kissed you fiercely, holding you steady between his body and the partition. Your body felt simultaneously like it was on fire and like you were floating. He rendered you utterly dumb with one kiss.

Suddenly he tore his lips away from you but before you could question it he was turning you around and pushing your front up against the glass. His body caged you in from behind, cock pressing against your ass cheek.

His lips latched against your neck, sucking the wet skin and teasing it with his teeth. You felt his hand start to roam from your hip, across your stomach and steadily lower.

He forced your legs apart with his strong hand before one nimble digit pressed against your clit. You gasped, rolling your ass back against his cock. He smirked into your neck, continuing to suck on your flesh.

He started moving his finger, rubbing your bundle of nerves in the most perfect way you thought it should be illegal. Your legs trembled almost instantly and if he was to move you would surely fall over.

You pressed one hand against the glass to help keep you up right while your other snaked behind you, between your bodies. You found his shaft and wrapped around the base of it, causing him to buck against you and bite down on your neck.

You started to stroke him, panting heavily against the glass partition while he continued his work between your legs. He really knew what he was doing and you were positive you would reach your orgasm in no time.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your skin as you let your hand moved up and down around him. “It’s been so long since someone touched me like that.”

His confession startled you a little but the pleasure he was inflicting on you was clouding your brain and you couldn’t dwell on it too much. His free hand moved to your chest and he pinched your nipple hard between his fingers.

Your legs buckled and he steadied you with the weight of his body. He was moaning into your neck, rocking back and forth behind you.

When he pulled back again, leaving you feeling empty and immediately touch starved, you whined as your hand fell to your side. You heard him chuckle before the shower shut off and you slowly turned to face him.

You finally took all of him in, his wet hair hanging down almost to his shoulders, beads of water rolling over his pale skin. His dressing was barely hanging on, desperately trying to cling to his skin for dear life. His cock stood to attention against his belly and your knees wobbled at the sight. Clearly he noticed as he laughed again.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’m not done with you yet.” He stepped out of the shower, curling his finger in a motion for you to follow him. Dumbly you did, scurrying after him back into the bedroom.

He grabbed you by your wrist and threw you to the bed, the sheets immediately clinging to your wet body. Your legs hung over the side of the mattress but before you could move them onto the bed, Spencer was dropping to his knees on the floor next to you.

He gripped your thighs roughly in his large hands and spread your legs, bowing his head between them. He kept eye contact with you as his tongue ran between your folds before settling on your clit.

You howled at the sensation, hands flying to his hair and tangling in the locks. He hadn’t shaved since the two of you had fled DC and his rough stubble was scratchy but the friction it created was out of this world.

He made the most delicious sounds as he ravenously ate you out. You were rocking your hips against his face, pulling his hair at the roots and moaning so loud the thin motel walls shook. When he suddenly plunged two fingers inside of you, your eyes rolled back in your head and you tugged his hair so hard it made him yelp.

He fingered you roughly, pounding his fingers inside your fluttering pussy while flicking your bud expertly with his tongue.

He was rutting against the side of the bed, trying to ease some tension in his throbbing cock. He wanted to give you all the pleasure in the world, his own way of thanking you for everything you’d done for him, but he was more than desperate to be inside of you.

Your walls were clenching around his fingers and he knew you were close but he wanted to feel your orgasm around his shaft. He buried his face between your legs, needing more.

“Are you close, princess?” He whispered into your core.

“Y-yes.” You stuttered. “S-so close.”

“Good.” He suddenly withdrew his fingers and sat back on his haunches.

You whined as your hands fell from his hair and looked at him in frustration.

“W-why’d you stop?” You sounded pathetic and you knew it.

Spencer smirked at you, his mouth and chin slick with your arousal. He got to his feet, looming over you.

“Because I want you to come on my cock, pretty girl.” With that he took you by the hips again and flipped you onto your front on the mattress.

He manoeuvred your legs onto the bed and you felt the weight shift beneath you as he knelt behind you. He tugged you onto your hands and knees and before you could even comprehend what was happening, he roughly thrust inside of you.

You yelped, his firm grip on your hips the only thing holding you up. He felt even bigger than he looked, filling you up in a way you’d never been before. He gasped loudly at the way in which he felt you stretch around him.

He was soon thrusting in and out of you, his hips slamming against your ass each time. You gripped the bed sheets in your hands, head falling to your chest while he fucked you without remorse.

He was moaning so deeply you felt it vibrate through you. His blunt fingernails dug into your hips and you swore you could already feel bruises forming. He was panting so heavily he sounded like he’d run a marathon but he didn’t slow down.

He continued to pound into you, bringing you closer to your orgasm every second. By the time it washed over you, your whole body convulsed, pussy clenching around his cock, causing him to hold you even tighter.

You moaned incoherently, possibly saying his name, you weren’t sure. Your head was a mess and your arms barely kept you upright anymore.

“Fuck, that’s it princess. Fuck, feels so good when you come for me.” His thrusts started to grow lazy and you knew he was close too.

Truthfully he’d been close since he’d first tasted you and he had no idea how he’d been able to last this long. But the feeling of you clenching around him as you came was too much and it finally pushed him over the edge.

With one last thrust he let himself fall over the edge, spilling his load inside of you, holding onto your hips for dear life. He rocked back and forth as he rode out his orgasm but was soon pulling out.

As soon as he let go of you, you crumbled to the bed, panting against the lumpy motel pillow. Spencer fell down next to you and gently wiped your hair back from your eyes.

You blinked sleepily, a dreamy smile on your lips as you looked at him. You’d always thought he was stunning, but in this post-coital bliss you didn’t think anyone had ever been so beautiful.

His puffy lips were parted as he tried to catch his breath, his intoxicating hazel eyes were hooded with sleep. His stubble still glistened a little from your arousal and his wet hair created a halo around his head.

Am I in love with him? You thought as you stared at him. Or am I in love with the way he made me feel?

Either way, you knew you shouldn’t have any feelings towards him. He was a murderer, pure and simple. Sure those men deserved it but it didn’t make what he’d done ok. But yet you still found yourself not just understanding it, but condoning it. And you knew as you laid there that you’d follow him to the ends of the earth, you’d be by his side until the bitter end.

Could it be Stockholm Syndrome, or did you really have feelings for Spencer? Away from this situation, under normal circumstances, would this have still happened?

All you knew for sure was that you were dancing with the devil and only he knew all the moves. But you were happy to let him lead.

Life's too short to be dancing with the devil.

You best sleep with a blanket and a shovel,

'Cause life's too short to be dancing with the devil.

Where am I? My hands are tied.

Turn on the lights, and I see you standing,

Over me, it's hard to breathe.

I can't believe that you'd do this to me.

Years of us building the trust up,

No love was ever enough.

I'm foolish to think we were friends,

It's funny how it ends.

You know, when times get tough you always give up,

I know your smoking gun's the tip of your tongue.

You take your aim to point the blame,

It's time we let it go, so save your lies.

Behind those eyes you're a devil in disguise.

Life's too short to be dancing with the devil.

You best sleep with a blanket and a shovel,

'Cause life's too short to be dancing with the devil.

Now it's time to pay the price,

No playing nice when you live so selfish.

Have a drink and make a scene,

Embarrass me 'cause you're lost and hopeless.

Years of us building the trust up,

No love was ever enough.

I'm foolish to think we were friends,

It's funny how it ends.

And you know, when times get tough you always give up,

I know your smoking gun's the tip of your tongue.

You take your aim to point the blame,

It's time you let it go, so save your lies.

Behind those eyes you're a devil in disguise.

Life's too short to be dancing with the devil.

You best sleep with a blanket and a shovel,

'Cause life's too short to be dancing with the devil.

You try to act as if you're saving me,

But you wouldn't cut the rope if it was hanging me.

I'm sick of people saying what you sow you reap,

'Cause I've been counting down the minutes of that, so to speak.

Think of all the hours and hours of grind,

That would it turned into sour findings.

As I wonder if our resigning is becoming the silver lining,

But I'm not a coward, I'm fighting.

'Cause if they're the meat, then I'm biting

Go ahead ignoring and smiling,

'Cause I'm climbing 'till I let you know.

When times get tough you always give up,

I know your smoking gun's the tip of your tongue.

You take your aim to point the blame,

It's time you let it go, so save your lies.

Behind those eyes, yeah.

You know, when times get tough you always give up,

I know your smoking gun's the tip of your tongue.

You take your aim to point the blame,

It's time you let it go, so save your lies.

Behind those eyes you're a devil in disguise.

Life's too short to be dancing with the devil.

You best sleep with a blanket and a shovel,

'Cause life's too short to be dancing with the devil.

@andiebeaword @dreatine @dirtytissuebox @thebloomingeagle @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #unsub! spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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therealcocoshady · 2 months

Text

Recovery - Chapter 28

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Em and Reader just got back together and Paul presents her with a NDA.

Tags : Fluff - Angst ?

Y/N’s POV

When you woke up, you were alone in bed. Marshall’s bed. You almost had to pinch yourself to believe it : after all this time, you got to wake up next to him again. Well… Almost next to him. The bed was empty. Still, you were surrounded by his scent, wearing his clothes… It was enough to make you smile. You got out of the bedroom and into the rest of the penthouse suite, searching for Marshall. You found him sitting on a couch, listening to music in his headphones. You greeted him but his eyes were closed and you obviously couldn’t hear you. You stared at him for a second. He looked adorable, all focused. You couldn’t help but plant a kiss on his cheek. He jumped and let out a gasp, absolutely startled.

Hi there, you giggled.

Oh fuck, I nearly had a heart attack, he chuckled. How did you sleep, my love ?

Like a baby, you said with a smile. I think the company might have something to do with that.

Oh, am I good company ? He mused.

Absolutely, you replied. I always slept better with you by my side.

Good, he said firmly. Because now, you’re not getting rid of me.

You chuckled and joined him on the couch, curling by his side. He gently cupped your face and kissed your lips. You cuddled for a while, exchanging sweet love words.

What do you want to do today ? He asked.

Aren’t we supposed to hang out with your daughters ? You reminded him.

They said we can do whatever we want, he shrugged. We can do that, though, if that’s what you want.

I wouldn’t mind exploring the city, you said with a smile. I haven’t been here in a long time.

Great then, he said with a smile. I’ve been here a couple of times already, but I haven’t had too much time to visit. Except some weed shops and the red lights district, of course.

Why am I not surprised ? You giggled.

Come on, it was twenty-five years ago, he chuckled.

Did you really go to the red lights district, though ? You couldn’t help but ask.

I’ll plead the fifth on that one, he replied with a smirk. Let’s order something to eat, shall we ?

You chuckled and he called the room service, ordering almost everything that was on the menu for breakfast. Meanwhile, you grabbed your phone and took a quick selfie in Marshall’s tee-shirt to send to Talia, letting her know that everything was perfect.

You’re into morning selfies now ? He chuckled.

No, you said embarrassed of being caught. It’s for Talia. Just letting her know I’m ok. And that we’re ok.

Give me that thing, he said with a smile.

He grabbed your phone and took you in his arms before kissing you on the cheek, taking a selfie at the same time.

I think this one’s better, he said with a wink. I think she’ll get the message if you send it to her.

You can take a good selfie, you playfully commented.

Well, I wasn’t going to use promo shots for my Tinder profile, now, was I ? He shrugged.

His reply left you a bit puzzled. You weren’t sure whether or not he was serious. The reasonable part of your brain was telling you it didn’t matter and that, after all, the two of you were back together. The other part, however, was freaking out. Still, you thought it would be a bad idea to let it show. Breakfast arrived and you went to the dining room area. Marshall seemed famished but you weren’t. You weren’t used to eating too much anymore.

You’re not eating, babe ? He asked after a few bites.

I’ll just have orange juice, you said with a smile.

Should I be… worried ? He asked carefully.

About what ? You asked innocently as you took a sip of orange juice.

He stared at you and sighed before taking your hand in his.

Am I supposed to pretend not to notice you’re like half the weight you were six months ago ? He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Well, I did lose a little weight, yes, you said in embarrassment.

A little ? He repeated.

Well, about fifteen kilos, but…

How much pounds ? He asked sternly.

You stared at him silently. You knew just how bad you looked and you weren’t about to play this little game with him. If he was unable to convert weights, it wasn’t your problem.

How much ? He asked as he stared in your eyes.

Thirty, you whispered.

That’s not a little weight, Y/N, he said sternly. That’s a lot.

You lost weight too, you pointed out.

Not as much, he shrugged. And I don’t look like a corpse.

Why, thank you, Marshall, you said as you got up and back to the bedroom.

You sat on the bed and groaned. Last night, he was telling you how beautiful you were and now, he was telling you you looked bad ? Way to talk to a woman… You sighed and buried your face in a pillow. Marshall entered the room and sat next to you, gently stroking your back.

I’m sorry, he whispered in your ear. That was insensitive.

You think ? You groaned.

You have to understand, baby, I’m just worried, he pleaded. I just want to make sure you’re ok. Did you do that on purpose ?

I didn’t, you sighed. I just… Wasn’t hungry anymore, you know ? And then, I got back to France and moved in with my Dad and he kept on pointing out that it’s good that I didn’t put on too much weight in the US, so… I didn’t stop eating on purpose, but I didn’t go out of my way to eat either, I guess. Being depressed doesn’t help in that department either, I guess.

I see, he hummed. I just want you to be healthy, my love.

I know, you said. I’m sorry I snapped.

Try and eat a few bites for breakfast, ok ? There’s pancakes, I know you like these.

I like your pancakes, you clarified.

I promise I’ll cook for you when I get the chance, he chuckled. In the meantime…

Fine, you sighed. I guess I can try and eat that pathetic excuse of a croissant.

Snob, he giggled.

You tried to humor Marshall and ate a few bites of croissant. It wasn’t much but he seemed satisfied. Besides, it meant there was more food left for him, which seemed like a good thing given the fact that he was guzzling everything that was on the table.

I need to eat, he explained. Performing takes a toll on the body. You’re losing water and burning calories. If I don’t eat, I lose thirty pounds in a month of touring.

You’re like an animal on stage, you pointed out.

You should have seen the shows years ago, he chuckled. That was something. At the beginning of my career, I could do like three shows in a night.

I wish I could have seen that, you chuckled. That must have been good.

I guess, he said. Although I was on a lot of drugs and booze, so I’d say I’m a better performer now.

Is that why you don’t tour so much anymore ? You asked.

It is, he confirmed. Besides, I never liked touring too much. Performing, yes, but never being home, not seeing the kids grow up, the constant opportunities to fuck around, drink and do drugs… Not my thing.

I’m glad you did this tour, though, you said softly.

Me too, he said. I’d do a thousand tours if that’s what it took for you to be back in my arms.

You sat on his lap and nuzzled his neck as he kept on eating. You stole a few bites of fruit from his plate, making him smile. You made small talk and researched fun places to visit in Amsterdam before getting ready for the day. As you were getting dressed, you heard a knock on the door and Marshall went to open. It was Paul.

Hey man, Marshall said as he let him in. You know today’s a day off, right ?

I know, but I needed to see you, the managed said. I have paperwork.

Sure. Let’s get this done quick though, we were just heading out. What do I need to sign ? Marshall asked as he sat at the table.

It’s for Y/N, actually, Paul clarified.

You stared at him in surprise. Paul acknowledging you was enough of a surprise but him having paperwork for you was definitely new.

What’s up ? You asked.

Well, seeing as the two of you are together now, we have to take some steps, he said. You know, usual precautions.

As in… ? You asked, not understanding.

I’m having you sign a non-disclosure agreement, Paul explained.

He handed you some paperwork as Marshall groaned.

Are you serious ? Marshall groaned. You’re seriously asking my girlfriend to sign a NDA ?

The last ones did, Paul reminded him.

Man, we just got back together.

Well, you didn’t provide me with the details, Marshall, Paul sighed. It’s just my job as manager to ensure everything’s taken care of. You can never be too careful. just a quick signature, Y/N, if you don’t mind.

Let me have a look at it quickly, you said. What is it about ?

This is a standard non-disclosure agreement, designed to protect Marshall’s privacy and public image. Basically, it’s restricting the disclosure of any personal information regarding him and his family, or any sensitive matter, Paul explained.

Ok, you hummed. So, basically, you guys can… sue me in case anything happens ?

Well, if you disclose anything confidential or publicly slander Marshall or his family, yes, Paul said.

You stared at him in disbelief, a bit insulted by the implication that you would hurt Marshall on purpose. If you were temped to slander anyone here, it was the manager. Marshall was staring at you with an annoyed expression on his face. Clearly, he wasn’t at ease here. You squinted and took a deep breath.

Paul, can I ask you a few questions before I sign ? You asked. Just so that I actually know what I’m signing.

Of course, he said as he took a sit.

You’re a man of law, correct ?

I am, he confirmed. I am an agent and manager, but also a lawyer.

As a man of law, would you agree to the premise that a relationship, in and of itself, is an agreement ? You asked.

I would say that all relationships are contractual, yes, if that’s what you’re asking, he replied calmly.

Now, wouldn’t you say that the basic term of this contract should be mutual trust and respect ?

Indeed, he said, but…

I hope you don’t mind me asking, you said with a smile as you cut him. I’m just confused because I don’t really see the trust and respect, here.

You have to understand that you’re in a relationship with a celebrity, Y/N, he stated sternly. It comes with obligations. I don’t mean to doubt your intentions towards Marshall, of course, but he is not only my friend. He is my client and it is my job to protect his image.

I’d say it’s a little rich considering that I’ve known him for a while and I’m the one whose image has suffered the most, you pointed out. You might have forgotten about that diss track but I haven’t.

You heard Marshall chortle softly. Paul looked at him sternly before turning back to you.

I don’t suppose there’s any clause protecting me, in that NDA ? You asked.

No, but you have to understand that Marshall would have absolutely no benefits slandering you or divulgating information, Paul replied.

Right. It’s true that it’s unlike him to write tracks based on his personal experience, you said sarcastically.

Hey ! Marshall said.

Sorry, babe, it’s for the sake of the argument, here, you said softly. My point is, I trust you and I would never ask you to sign a contract promising that you won’t slander me, because it doesn’t even cross my mind that you would. We just got back together and I would appreciate going on at least one real date before we get paperwork involved.

She’s right, Marshall told Paul.

If you want me to sign an NDA, I’ll do it, you told Marshall. But the request has to come from you, not Paul. And if we do this, I might have a few addendums of my own.

Really ? Paul asked sternly.

Oh yes, you said as you crossed your arms. At least two : one about potential diss tracks that Marshall may write about me, and another about your team’s duty to protect me.

I will let the two of you talk about it, the manager said as he looked at Marshall. But I will get back to you on that matter.

Wouldn’t expect anything else, you said sarcastically.

Have a good day, Paul said.

You too, man, Marshall said as he tried hard not to laugh.

Paul left the paperwork in front of you and left the room. As he closed the door, Marshall looked at you and smiled as he shook his head.

You are one feisty woman, he pointed out.

No one gets to insult me in the morning, you replied. I know Paul doesn’t like me, but that’s a low blow. Seriously, Marshall… a NDA ?

Well, yeah, that’s his job, he replied apologetically. I didn’t even think about it. Of course I trust you, baby.

If it means that much to you, I’ll sign it, you said. But I’m a little hurt by the implication.

Don’t think about it, he said. Let’s just enjoy our day, alright ? I’ll talk to Paul. But you standing up to him… that was something.

You liked it ? You giggled.

Are you kidding ? Little you putting that grown-ass man in his place by using his legal slang ? That was hot.

So I take it that you like women with a temper ? You joked.

Well I do, he chuckled. But smart women with a temper are even sexier. You are the hottest thing, right now.

Is it the use of the word “addendum” that has you all hot and bothered ? You chuckled.

Maybe. Let me show you just how sexy you are when you’re feisty, he said with a grin as he took your arm and led you to the bedroom.

A few hours later, you joined Hailie, Alaina and Stevie for a visit of the city. You even managed to get Marshall to tone down the security thing, arguing that it was Europe, Amsterdam of all places, and that having bodyguards would only draw more attention to him. You only had one security guy with you, dressed casually, and Marshall was dressed unassumingly. He seemed a little nervous at first, but when he realized you were right, he started to relax. You went to Museumsplein, enjoying the architecture and heading to the Van Gogh museum. The girls seemed happy to spend some time with their father and were ecstatic that there wasn’t a ton of security.

Someone’s relaxed, today, Alaina pointed out.

Must be old age, Marshall joked. Seriously, Y/N, you were right. Amsterdam is chill.

It’s one of my favorite cities in Europe, you said.

Do you come here often ? Hailie asked.

Not really, you said. Obviously, I’ve lived in Detroit for the last five years but back when I studied in France, I took a couple of trips here to… enjoy.

Meaning drugs ? Stevie teased.

Yes, you chuckled. I smoked my first blunt here when I was nineteen. My last one, too, actually. When I was twenty-one.

Did you try anything else ? She asked.

No. I’ve never been too attracted to drugs, you shrugged.

Aren’t you in recovery, though ? She asked, visibly puzzled.

Steve, maybe leave her alone ? Marshall interrupted.

It’s fine, you said with a smile. I don’t mind.

You let her ask you a few questions about your journey and your recovery and you answered them truthfully. The others were listening, too. You didn’t mind the curiosity and you thought you’d rather have them ask you questions directly than to assume the worst. Marshall was holding your hand as you walked around the exhibit.

Now that we’ve filled our brains with culture, how about some shopping ? Alaina suggested.

We still have a few days here if we want to do shopping, Stevie pointed out.

How long do you plan on staying here ? You asked.

About three days, Marshall said.

Then, Dad planned on flying to Paris to see you, Hailie recalled.

You girls know about that ? He asked surprised.

Yes, they replied in unison.

And I thought I was being discreet with my plans, he chuckled. Well obviously, the plan has slightly changed.

I would gladly enjoy Europe for a while, Hailie said. I’d love to visit Paris, go to Italy…

That would be a nice family vacation, Alaina agreed.

I guess, Stevie shrugged. Although I can’t wait to see my boyfriend.

They just moved in together, Hailie explained. They’re still glued to each other. Kind of like you and Dad, she added with a smile as she stared at his hand in yours.

We can chill in Europe for a while, Marshall said. I have about three weeks off anyway.

Seriously ? Hailie asked in excitement.

Sure, he shrugged. You can even fly your boyfriends, fiancés, whatever, in. It’s going to take a bit of logistics, but I guess we can make that work.

You are the best Dad ever, Stevie said as she hugged him.

I’m on it, Alaina said. I don’t have to work for the next two weeks. I will organize the best family vacations for us.

The girls were excited and Marshall was all smiles. Obviously, making them happy made him happy as well. They talked about their plans while you stared at a couple of paintings.

It’s nice, you commented. You having family vacations with your grown-up kids.

I’ve spent so much time touring lately, I’m happy to spend time with them, he said.

You’re going to have a blast, you said with a smile.

I hope so, he replied. What do you say, pretty girl ? Do you want to tag along ?

I should just let you enjoy with them, you said.

I want you with me, though, he said as he kissed your temple.

One condition though, you said. I’ll stick around if they’re ok with me being here.

That’s fair, he said.

He turned to his daughters.

Girls, we just said partners are allowed for this vacation, right ? He asked with a smile.

Yes, Dad, Y/N is invited, Hailie chuckled. But we still want some time alone with you, though.

You got it, he said with a smile. Thank you !

You smiled at them and mouthed a “Thank you”. You were happy they included you but you didn’t want to intrude. You got out of the museum and went for some shopping. Now that you were sticking around, you needed to buy a few more clothes anyway.

We’ll have to do some shopping, just the two of us, Marshall whispered in your ear.

We’re already shoppin nowg, you pointed out with a smile.

Yes, but I can’t take you shopping for lingerie with my kids, he chuckled.

Might as well hit some sex shops, too while we’re at it, you joked.

I think I’m going to enjoy these holidays, he said with a smile.

It was a joke, you quickly said.

We do have six months to catch up on, he said seductively in your ear. I hope you’re not planning on walking too much because you might be disappointed.

You blushed and giggled nervously, like a schoolgirl. He flashed a charming smile at you and went on to talk to Stevie, who was getting bored while her sisters were browsing the store. You were looking at a couple of items when Hailie came to you.

Can I talk to you ? She asked.

Sure, you said nervously.

The two of you went outside of the store. Everything was good with Hailie, but you were still a bit nervous. She might be a girl your age, but she had definitely inherited her Dad’s charisma and the memories of the day she went off on you were enough to make you worry about what she had to say.

What’s up ? You asked after a few seconds of silence.

I just wanted to thank you again, she said. Dad seems really happy that you’re here. I haven’t seen him this relaxed in years. I mean, family vacations out of the blue and hanging out without tons of security usually doesn’t happen for us.

Thank you for flying me in, you said.

Also, I wanted to clear the air… Obviously, I disapprove of you cheating on my best friend to be with my Dad but I see how good the two of you are for each other. And since Josh is over you now, I don’t see a reason why I should keep on being mad at you, she said.

Thanks, you sighed in relief. You know, I’m not a cheater… I’m not going to deny that I cheated on Josh and I know how wrong that was. Believe me, I still hate myself for it. But that’s not who I am.

I hope so, she said with a smile. Because if you cheat on Dad or if you hurt him, I will be your worst nightmare.

I don’t doubt that, you chuckled. But believe me, I will not hurt him.

She gave you a small hug and you went back to shopping while making small talk. As the afternoon came to an end, you went back to the hotel and spent a bit of time there before going to dinner. You were getting ready for his birthday dinner. You got dressed and joined him in the living room area.

You’re stunning, he said with a smile.

You don’t look too bad yourself, you giggled.

Next to you, I look like a peasant, he joked. I don’t know how I got so lucky.

You look incredible, you said as you stroked his cheek. In fact, if we weren’t almost late for dinner, I would gladly show you how attractive I think you are…

You’re such a tease, he groaned.

And you love it, you chuckled. Come on, we’re going to be late !

I swear, the second we’re back in the room, I am tying you to this bed.

The two of you went downstairs to the restaurant, as directed by his daughters. In the elevator, it was just the two of you and he took it as a great opportunity to make out. You loved having him all over you like this. It was the best feeling in the world. When you got to the restaurant, you were greeted by his daughters, his team and some other people who had flown in to celebrate him. He seemed genuinely surprised and happy to see everyone. As he was making his rounds and saying hi to everybody, you spotted Talia and Jamal. You immediately ran to hug them. After all, you hadn’t seen them in ages.

My baby ! Talia shrieked.

I missed you guys, you said as you took them in your arms.

We missed you too, sis’, Jamal chuckled.

It’s so great that you are here, you said in excitement.

Of course, we wouldn’t miss Em’s birthday, Jamal replied.

You know me, I could care less about this old man’s birthday, Talia joked. I came to see my bestie !

I heard that, Marshall grinned from behind you.

The four of you giggled and he hugged them before grabbing your hand.

Sorry guys, I have to steal her for a minute, he said with a smile.

You better give her back, Em, Talia warned playfully.

I just need to introduce my girl to a few people, he said.

He grabbed your hand and took you to meet a few of his friends. This time, it did feel like something official. You weren’t used to holding his hand in public, but it was pleasing. You would have expected him to be more distant with other people around and, in a way, he wasn’t as touchy-feely as when it was just the two of you, but he was still extremely soft with you.

Guys, this is Y/N, my girlfriend, he said with a smile. Y/N, this is Andre and Curtis.

By “Andre and Curtis”, he was casually referring to Dr Dre and 50 Cent. Your hip-hop knowledge may not have been the greatest but you were still very much aware that you were in front of two legends. You felt suddenly shy.

Nice to meet you, you said shyly as you shook their hands.

Very nice to meet you, Y/N, Andre said.

We didn’t know you had such a pretty girl, man, Curtis said with a smile. Kept her hidden ?

Kind of, Marshall chuckled.

So, what do you do, Y/N ? Dre asked. I mean, besides putting up with him, which is probably a full-time job.

With lots of overtime, you joked. I’m actually a PhD Researcher in communications.

A doctor, actually, Marshall corrected.

Right, you chuckled.

So what you mean to say is that she’s really smart and still puts up with you ? Curtis asked.

I’m not too sure why, but I’m happy she does, Marshall grinned, causing you to blush.

How did you meet ? Andre asked.

In the studio, Marshall simply said. She put up with me while I recorded the album.

And you’re still here, Y/N ? Curtis asked. We all know how that man can get when he’s in the zone…

They all chuckled, as it was apparently generally accepted that Marshall could be an ass when he was in recording-mode. They got to talking about recording and some newly released albums that they thought were good and you listened. Hearing him talk so passionately about hip-hop was always fascinating. He also seemed truly at ease and relaxed. Obviously, they were good friends of his and there was a lot of mutual respect between them.

At dinner, you sat next to Talia and Jamal, enjoying their company. You had missed them a lot and you were almost emotional. They told you how happy they were that you and Marshall were back together. At the end of the meal, dessert came : a huge cake with fifty-two candles.

Make a wish, you whispered in Marshall’s ear.

My wish came true yesterday, he chuckled.

Another one, then, you giggled.

Fine.

He closed his eyes for a second and blew the candles in one breath as everyone clapped.

Time for presents ? Dre asked.

No need for presents, guys, Marshall shrugged. You guys coming is enough. Unless it’s a Lions victory for the Superbowl. Then I want that.

He got a few great presents but the stars of the show were the plaques he was presented with, by Dre and Fifty, celebrating the album that was already certified platinum in the US, as well as Track 12, that was streamed more than 50 000 000 times already.

I believe that deserves a speech, Curtis suggested.

Fuck, Marshall said, visibly emotional. Uh… Ok. Obviously, I’d like to thank all of you for coming here and celebrating my birthday, especially while I’m on tour. I’m thankful for all of the surprises. I’m very grateful for everyone who was involved in planning the album and the tour. I know I’ve been a pain in the ass this year and I can’t promise I’ll be easier to put up with as time goes on but I appreciate each and everyone of you and…

He took a deep breath.

This album means a lot to me. I’m lucky to have had an amazing run and I’m not sure I will put out a lot of albums in the future, but regardless, I can say that if this had to be the last, I’d be proud to end on such a high note. And as for Track 12… You guys know I don’t really care about numbers but this one holds a special place in my heart. It’s the last track we produced for the album. We made it in secret a few days before wrapping the project. Very few people knew about it and the fact that it turns out to be such a success is crazy to me. I have to thank my man Jamal for the beat, Skylar, of course, without whose voice I couldn’t have done it and… Y/N, he added as he looked at you lovingly. The track would not exist without you and you are an incredible lyricist.

He kissed your cheek as he sat down and you couldn’t help but blush. Everyone chuckled and clapped before eating cake and over-indulging on champagne, for the most of them. The party went on for a few hours and you enjoyed yourself. It was really chill and you got to spend time with all the people you had missed since you left Detroit. Eventually, people started going to bed and you decided to do the same. The only problem was that Marshall was the one who had the key to the room and he was nowhere to be found.

Have you seen Marshall ? You asked Royce.

I think he’s outside with Tracy, he shrugged.

You went to search for him and, indeed, you found him with her. You hadn’t seen much of Tracy yet. As far as you knew, she was a longtime member of his team, working as some sort of assistant. You had never met her before, but it wasn’t too surprising seeing as Marshall was in album mode back then. They seemed to be in deep conversation and didn’t even notice that you were approaching.

Does she know about us ? She asked.

Nope, he said. I don’t see why she should. It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past anyway.

I sucked your dick in your hotel room two days ago, Marshall, she said sternly. How can you say it’s in the past ?

You unintentionally let out a gasp, causing the two of them to look at you. She covered her mouth with her hand, as Marshall stared at you with terror on his face.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers headcanons #recovery fanfiction

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lala3244 · 4 months

Note

osoxkwlalska your writing is AWSOMEEE

Can I request smth? Barbatos with mc, who has the same powers as him but is more unhinged and careless about it?

Hello anon! And thank you for your request!

I am sorry, it took so long for writing it! I hope you like it! I tried to do as you asked I hope I did okay…

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Warnings: mention of death not proofread

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CHANGING THE PAST

When you were in the human world and even after your arrival in the Devildom, you knew you didn’t have any powers and you didn’t understand, for the life of you, how you got them but when the first time they appeared, you got scared.

You were in the past, watching yourself getting into shenanigans with the Anti-Lucifer league but a few seconds ago, you were being scolded by Lucifer for a prank that had gone wrong and he was actually getting really angry. He was scaring you, being all menacing a dark aura surrounding him, his demon form was out and it was the first time you saw him that furious. You had closed your eyes, wishing you could change the outcome of that prank and you knew what was your mistake. You were conflicted. Should you stop the prank or improve it so it would work better but you thought about the angry demon and decided to abort the prank once your past self and the Anti- Lucifer league finished installing it. You ran quickly to the device and broke it. You sighed in relief and willed yourself to the present. You were still standing in front of Lucifer but this time, he was just casually talking to you about his new purchase. You remembered that was what you wanted to do. While he was talking, you felt something in the back of your brain and your memories started to meld together. Once he dismissed you, Satan and Belphegor came to see you. “What happened? What did go wrong?” You shrugged. “I guess it was not meant to work.” You left them, speechless.

After your new discovery, you tested your abilities, what you could and couldn’t do. You did it discreetly, changing tiny details during the day for the next few days until you felt confident enough to do something a bit bigger. A couple of weeks ago, you had a test that you knew you failed so you waited for the results and you were right! You had failed miserably. So you went home quickly after class and redid your test with the correct answers and went back in time to swipe your test with the new one. You were back to the new present and you shuddered at the idea of Lucifer giving you an hour-long lecture about how you couldn’t fail as an exchange student. You were glad you avoided it! Your memories melded together again. New memories colliding with your old ones making your head hurt. You cried out in pain and everyone watched you then you passed away.

You woke up in your bed. Lucifer and Barbatos were standing next to you, talking. Your head was still hurting and you were still in a daze. You couldn’t understand what they were saying. Lucifer finally looked at you and bent down a bit so he was at eyes level. “How are you feeling?” You nodded slightly your head. “My head still hurts a bit.” He stood up. “What happened?” You looked at the two demons who looked a bit intimidating from your point of view. “I don’t know! I just had a piercing headache and I blacked out.” Barbatos looked at you suspiciously. You haven’t told them about your powers, the same ones as Barbatos, as you now realised. You winced at the realisation. Maybe he knew? He approached your bed and put a gloved hand on your forehead. “We felt some sort of magic when you were asleep. I didn’t think you had any?” You shrugged and looked away as to not to reveal any information. “No, I’m a simple human. No magic, nothing noticeable about me.” Barbatos hummed but what you didn’t know was that the Butler felt that some changes had been mad in the Time and had been investigating the source. He hadn’t said anything to Lord Diavolo or Lucifer yet but he had his suspicions which you just revealed unknowingly. You hadn’t managed to damage the timeline yet so he decided that you were a responsible human usually and would use your powers accordingly. You fell asleep even though they were talking to you and left you alone.

You carried on testing your powers. You went back in time to eavesdrop on other people, to play some tricks on Lucifer or his brothers and one time even on Lord Diavolo. It was all very harmless but you did everything to steer clear of Barbatos. The stoic Butler had a way to make you feel embarrassed and scared. You knew he knew and you waited for him everyday, after a trip to the past, to come and kidnap you to his secret dungeon that everyone knew he had but he never did such a thing, which was nerve wrecking at the same time.

Creating new memories while you still had your old ones started to change something in your brain. You were slowly getting reckless during your travels in the past. You would confuse the new and old memories while talking to your friends and sometimes act like you never changed anything. You didn’t notice but Barbatos who was watching you did. He sometimes dropped by the House of Lamentations and would ask the brothers how you had been but he was always disappointed that they didn’t see any changes. You were still normal most of the time but your time travel would always take something from you and Barbatos knew that. That’s why he never did it himself unless he was asked to. He decided to talk to you before you would make a horrible mistake.

You were asleep when you heard an unusual ringtone. You followed the sound half-asleep and realised it was your phone from the human world. You answered as it was someone from your family. They said that your parents were in an accident and they both died. You dropped onto your knees. Maybe if you didn’t spent your energy going back, you could have tried to see if you could see the future. You thanked your family member and hung up. You stayed on your knees, the news hadn’t really kicked in yet. Maybe, maybe you could go back and prevent that accident. You stood up and left the HoL. It was still the middle of the night but you didn’t care, you were still in your pjs but you didn’t care, you were an easy prey for the demons roaming about but your mind was numb and you ran to the Castle of Lord Diavolo. You were about to knock when the door opened. Barbatos greeted you. “Please come in.” You frowned but entered inside once he stood on the side to let you in. “Lord Diavolo is waiting for you in his office.” You nodded and followed the Butler.

You were sitting in front of the Young Prince, a cup of tea in your hands. Lord Diavolo looked at you with a small smile. “What brings you here in the middle of the night?” You looked up at him, suddenly realising why you were there. “I need to go to the human realm. I just learned my parents are dead.” He nodded and looked at Barbatos. “Sure, take the time you need. Do you need to go back to the House before going?” You shook your head. “No, I’m fine.” He shrugged and Barbatos left and came back with a few clothes. “You can’t go back home with your pyjamas.” You chuckled at the silliness of the situation. “No, I can’t, can I?” You put some clothes on top of your pyjamas and Barbatos opened a portal but before you passed it through, he grabbed your wrist. “We need to talk when you come back.” You nodded and jumped through the portal. You were in an empty alleyway near your parent’s building. You looked around to make sure no one was watching and went back to the past. You arrived at your parent’s the day before their accident and knocked on their door. You spent the day with them and as you didn’t know what happened exactly, you just did everything in your power to prevent for them to take the car.

With the death of your parents averted, you went back to the Devildom and went back to your life. The death of your parents from the old timeline had made a mark on your mind. You didn’t have time to grieve them that you saved them and your brain couldn’t process all these informations at once. It messed up your thought’s process and now you were changing the past more and more. You trained yourself to see the future but with so many futures to look into, your brain would freeze up and you would end up with a massive nosebleed so you eventually stopped doing it. You were obsessed with improving your past. You had an argument with someone, either you went back to the why or you went back to the argument itself and answered differently. It was like a drug and you were addicted.

Barbatos had had that talk with you but you didn’t change or stop, you were more and more reckless and now you didn’t care about the consequences as long as your immediate present was better. No guilt as you changed your mistakes, no grieving as you would prevent the deaths of your loved ones, no anger as you would resolve whatever problem would make you angry. It was liberating to change the past as you pleased and nothing bad had happened and the more you did it, the less you felt it actually changed anything in the long run. The thing was even if it was only the people surrounding you that was affected by your time travels it had affected all the Devildom. Your powers were almost as strong as Barbatos and the demon knew he had to do something before some catastrophic events happened. Barbatos, as a demon, could look into the future without being affected and the more futures he looked into the more he got worried. In all of them, something bad happened unless he did something to you. A thing he never would want to do but he had to if he couldn’t find an alternative. He finally talked to Lord Diavolo about his worries and the Lord gave him permission to go about and find a solution without physically hurting you. Barbatos went from libraries to libraries, met with witches and sorcerers alike, went back in time a couple of times, and finally he found the solution. He was going to build a cell and a helmet with a metal that suppressed any magic. It pained him but it was a necessary step to avoid an inevitable end of the world.

The next time you travelled back, he would be ready. He used some of his powers to track you wherever and whenever you were. Nobody but he knew where you went so he grabbed you and put a hand on your mouth. He opened a portal and jumped through it while his grip around you tightened so you wouldn’t fight. He didn’t need magic to subdue you, you were just a human after all. The portal brought you right in front of the cell. He threw you inside and jumped on you to put the helmet on.

You tried to use your powers and the more you tried the more your head ached. Finally you passed out. Barbatos took you in his arms and gently lied you down on the bed he installed there for you. His chest tightened. He didn’t want to do that but you were leading them to grave danger. He put a hand on your cheek and rubbed some circle with his thumb. You looked normal, sweet and lovely while asleep. He had noticed that your eyes had become deranged since you came back from the human world. He knew he shouldn’t have let you go there but your parents had just died and now they were alive again. He knew going back to the past and changing things could affect the mind of a lower demon, so for a human it must have been even more dangerous. He scolded himself for not thinking about this and stopping that sooner, but you were, well used to be, so sensible and rational. He thought you might have been able to stop when everything went out of control.

You opened your eyes. You didn’t recognise your surroundings. It was dark, a small source of light coming from a small lamp on a desk. You rubbed your eyes and felt something on your forehead. You touched it and realised it was some sort of helmet. You wondered what happened, then memories came rushing back. It finally happened. Barbatos kidnapped you and imprisoned you in his dungeon.

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THE END

Thank you for reading!

MASTERLIST

#obey me #obey me barbatos #obey me fandom #obey me fanfic #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me belphie #swd obey me #obeyme #barbatos x reader #barbatos x mc #om! barbatos

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nerves-nebula · 1 month

Note

betcha thought u saw the last of me huh

been in a major writing slump for the past year, and now and conquering my writing slumo to hopefully get over all of my other ones so here u go this is inspired by a post a long time ago that i can’t find ab everyone falling back into old habits at the farm house and i can’t remember if it was april or casey who set them into shape but i needed an excuse to make it faggy

the farmhouse itself was nothing like the sewers. warm wooden walls, sunlit windows, and soft carpet were a very dramatic change from the damp, cold walls of the sewer, made colder by the presences within them.

it was a change, for sure, but raph couldn’t help but think it was a welcome one.

everyone could tell something had changed between them, between everyone. eggshells littered the floorboards during short, awkward conversations, before the occupants retreated back to their designated spaces.

some things lingered, though. what is it that people say—it takes twenty one days to form a habit? well, raph has been doing this for nineteen years, so beat that. he’s spent almost two decades walking on autopilot, not thinking twice about anything until it became a threat, picking up after everyone, cooking, cleaning. the list carried on.

and for the better part of two decades, his siblings had accepted that. some smart people online can say whatever they want, but a few weeks in the farmhouse can’t undo years of habit. but it was fine. it was fine if he spent a good few hours of his day cleaning up mikey’s paint. it was fine if donnie’s gadgets were scattered across the table. it was fine if leo left dishes in the sink from a meal he couldn’t be bothered to share.

it was fine.

raph was fine.

his brain woke him up early. it always did. he had to make breakfast and clean up the mess everyone probably made after he turned in for the night, and donnie probably hasn’t showered in awhile, so he needs to get on that and-

“you’re thinking too loud.” a voice grumbled from below him. that was odd. casey was never up this early. that was new. “quit it.”

“…sorry.” raph muttered, lifting his head from casey’s chest. that was relatively new too. he saw the way mikey looked at them, like he knew something they didn’t. he and casey were old friends, even if the bed thing was new. “i didn’t know you were up.”

“oh, im up alright. i’m up to make sure that you aren’t.”

…

“huh?” he asked, his eyes narrowing in confusion as he glanced up at casey’s face. his hair was tousled with sleep, leaving his eyes actually visible in the soft light of dawn. the warm sun hit the brown irises perfectly, casting them in honey.

“you heard me.” casey yawned, tossing a tan arm over his eyes. the long, thick strands of his uncut hair splayed across the pillow in tendrils. slithering out across the cotton to root their host into the mattress. “you’re sleeping in.”

…

that’s new too.

his mind screamed in protest. he didn’t do well with change; he never had. that was his routine—his new one. he woke up early, made breakfast, ate as much as his body would allow him, and then some, and then cleaned. leo would wake up next, take his fill, not clean his plate, and fuck off to god knows where. then mikey would emerge, and then donnie. april came down a few hours later, and then finally casey would wake up. it was never like this; he was never last.

some part of him, deep inside his psyche, begged for a break. sleeping in would be nice. he couldn’t think of a place he’d rather be than right here—casey’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, holding his head against the soft flesh of his stomach while absolutely shrouded in blankets. he hadn’t been this comfortable in years.

he was wasting time. dad never liked waiting for breakfast.

dad wasn’t here, and frankly, he could go fuck himself.

it took twenty-one days to form a habit. how long does it take to break one?

without a word, raph settled back into casey’s body and closed his eyes.

—:—

the next time he woke up, casey was still under him. the sun was higher in the sky, now painting the walls in golden rays as opposed to the vibrant pinks and blues of dawn. his friend's hand ran across the ridges of his shell, rendering him practically immobile. his limbs were loose with contentment, and his vision was hazy as he flicked his eyes around the room.

“mornin’. again.” casey grinned down at him, that gap-toothed smile wide, and pleased with his own poor joke. his fingers never stopped their soothing motions on his carapace, though, so raph decided to let it go.

his eyelids felt heavy as he forced them to stay open, blinking sleep away while flexing his body. every finger, every toe, arms, legs, and then finally his neck as he lifted his head from casey’s warmth.

“what time is it?” he asked, pushing his body up into a sitting position, much to his mind's dismay. everything in him was screaming to lay down again, to soak up casey’s warmth like the man was a rock in the sun. he may as well be with his body temperature.

casey helped him up, his big hands steady against his biceps as he manoeuvred raph into a sitting position in front of him. the sheets pooled around their waists as raph leaned his head against casey’s shoulder. the room was so cold now.

“c’mon.” raphs shoulder was prodded gently, and he raised his head to gaze into where casey’s eyes hid behind his hair. his voice was soft and low, like a vibration in the air.

maybe that could explain the tingling in his spine.

bare, tan feet hit the floor first, before his hand gently tugged the turtle off the mattress. still dazed with sleep, he stumbled, leaning into casey’s side to take the weight off of his unsteady legs. the stairs were the hardest to conquer, with all three of raphs fingers grasping casey’s wrist while they manoeuvred down the steps.

a muffled scolding sounded from the next room, and raph felt something inside of him freeze. it wasn’t dad splinter. splinter usually yelled, or even just spoke, but he never tried to make himself quieter. maybe the humiliation of everyone else knowing you were in trouble was part of the punishment.

“i swear to fucking god.” the voice spoke, tone controlled yet flaming. “i’m done watching him pick up after you guys. i love you, you’re my friends, but you need to get your shit together.”

his brain didn’t quite comprehend who was speaking until he heard the next voice.

“it’s not that big of a deal.” leo’s familiar tone punctured the air. raph refused to allow the sound to stab him like the knife it always was. “he’s done it forever! i’m sure he’s used to it by now!”

“that doesn’t mean it’s fine, leo!”

“april, w-we’re all getting better…aren’t we? i mean, we clean up after ourselves decently...”

“no, the house is clean because raph is still cleaning up after you guys like he’s your mom!”

casey’s hand tightened a fraction on his shoulder, and he looked back down at him with a grin. “how about we go outside, yeah? it’s s’posed to be real nice out.”

before raph could complain or comply, he was already being led in the other direction, hearing the voices fade back out. he opened his mouth, and casey cut him off. “i know you’re hungry. i’ll getcha something. wait outside for me? ‘kay?”

and like that, he was gone. the door closed behind him as raph turned his eyes to the tree line, plush with vibrant leaves and dark soil. remnants of dew still clung to the blades of grass, shining brightly in the light of the sun.

the wood of the patio was warm against his feet, and he leaned his elbows to the railing, licking his eyes into the woods. his eyes were still heavy, and the place around his neck where casey’s arm previously lay left a pleasant scorch sinking into his skin. still, the voices from inside bounced in his skull. at least the yelling was familiar.

somethings never change.

thaNKK YOUUU !!! this was SO CUTE UGH. you get the first neglected art i've been able to make in a while

#nnstuff #nnart #ask #asks are sweethearts #neglected fic #teenage mutant neglected turtles #neglected art #tmnt raph #casey jones

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