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#Okay I think I took too long for a simple question
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Nobody Pt. 4
(C.Sturniolo X Reader)
Summary:
Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places
Word Count: 1,332
TW: Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it is talked about), fluff, PDA, fake dating chaos, mention of cramps and throwing up because of the pain, bad sex joke, use of emojis (I have no clue how else to explain the exact reactions other than the emojis), drinking/being drunk (I’ve never been drunk, so forgive me if my portrayal is off), Not Edited
A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, I’ve literally been locked in my room for two weeks with no motivation. I really hope that y’all like this chapter. I’m also hoping to work on some other stuff coming up soon. 😁
-Madi <3
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“”“”“”“”“”
Y/N’s POV
Nick and Matt stood at the island as me and Chris walked into the kitchen. I caught Nick’s eye as I set down enough food to feed a small militia. He just stares.
Matt hits him in the shoulder, prompting him to give him a dirty look before speaking. “I’m sorry…” He looked like he wasn’t sure what all he needed to apologize for. “I’m sorry that I punched you” he nodded toward Chris. “I’m sorry that I made you cry, I feel really bad about that.” He averts his eyes, and I think I see a small glint of shame.
I physically can’t stay mad at him, and I make it very obvious when I envelop him into a rib crushing hug. He whispers a small thank you in my ear before I walk back to the other side of the island to unpack the food. As I start unpacking breakfast I feel arms wrap around my waist, and a chin resting on my shoulder.
I freeze up, and Chris mumbles a quick “is this okay?” Into my hair. I look around realizing that Matt and Nick don’t even notice, much too invested in their food to care. I nod my head, trying to will the rosy shade to leave my face.
I’m failing miserably.
after breakfast me and Chris went upstairs to watch a movie in his room. Matt was quick to respond in the worst way possible.
“Sock that wang before you bang… and please be quiet, I don’t want to hear my brother doin it”
Y/N: 😨
Chris: 😮
Nick: 😟
Matt: 😁
needless to say, me and Matt practically teleported upstairs and away from that mortifying experience. Me and Chris enter his room in a fit of laughter, practically collapsing onto the bed.
After a second I noticed that Chris had stopped laughing… his laughter is addictive, and I already missed it. I turned to see him staring at me with a look in his blue eyes that I couldn’t quite grasp. He looked happy and sad and something else all at once.
“What?” I giggled as I said it, still thinking about what Matt said only a few minutes earlier.
“are you doing okay?” This question again… I never know what to say when people ask me that. Right now I’m doing great… but in 30 minutes, or a week, or even a month I might break down again.
that’s never the answer that people want. They want something simple, yes or no. He stares at me patiently waiting for my response, it makes me feel bad for not having one.
“I’m okay right now…” he gives me a quick nod before speaking again.
“Okay, will you tell me when you aren’t doing good?” Why is he offering this, he doesn’t want to deal with me. “You need a safe space, and you clearly aren’t going to tell Nick. Let me be your safe space.”
“okay”
With that we got comfy on his bed and found a movie.
“”“”“”“”“”
things carried on like this for months.
doing good.
going down.
running to Chris.
repeat.
he was always so sweet and caring. He would hold me while I cried Myself to sleep, he would walk me home early from an event if I wanted to leave, he would hold my hair back and get me a heating pad when my cramps got bad… no matter what, he was there. He had also started being more touchy in public, leaning into the fake relationship for those around us. It made me feel things that I tried to avoid for years.
I think I hate him… how DARE he make me fall in love with him, knowing that none of this is real. How dare he kiss me at parties, and hold me during movie nights, and make me feel safe when none of it is real for him.
“you okay baby?” He snaps me out of my thoughts with the use of his new favorite nickname for me. I melt when he calls me his baby, unfortunately a small part of me also dies inside every time I hear it.
“yeah, just a little tired.” We’ve been at this party for like three hours, and I haven’t even touched my drink. When Chris is tipsy he get more brave with his PDA, I don’t want to risk forgetting a single moment where he is touching me.
“do you want to walk home?” He doesn’t want to leave, he shouldn’t have to leave because I’m sad that he doesn’t love me.
“no. we should stay, you’re having fun. I’m actually going to go get a drink, maybe it will make me feel better.” He looks at me for a second before letting go of my hip, allowing me to grab a drink.
“”“”“”“”“”
How did I get here?
It’s like one second I was listening to Chris tell a story, and now I’m dancing to some annoying pop song. I need to find Chris, I definitely had a few too many drinks.
I stumbled around for a minute, everything is spinning and making me want to throw up. I don’t know if I can walk all the way home, but I don’t want to make all of them leave early. I grab my phone in an attempt to call Chris, but by the time he picks up I’ve forgotten what I was doing.
“”“”“”“”“”
Chris’s POV
I look down at my phone to see that Y/N is calling me, and it makes me a little worried. I pick the phone up to my ear, trying to head over the sounds of music and talking. I don’t hear her, only making me more worried.
She almost never drinks, because she has a very low tolerance. Last time I saw her, she was already three drinks in and proclaiming her love for the song that was on.
That was an hour ago.
I quickly scour the crowd in an attempt to find her face. And when I do my heart drops.
There she is in her skin tight jeans and corset top, looking lost with tears in her eyes. I rush to her side, immediately pulling the drink from her hand. She looks like she’s about to start crying.
“hey baby, can you look at me please?” When I say that she starts crying and she doesn’t seem like she’s stopping any time soon. “Hey, it’s okay. Do you want to find somewhere quiet so that you can sit down for a minute?” She nods her head aggressively before stumbling towards the bedroom of whoever is hosting.
The Golden Trio
From: Chris
can y’all meet me in the master bedroom, Y/N is really drunk and needs to go home.
From: Nicky Bo Bicky
for sure, I’ll bring some water for her.
I turned to Y/N, she looked out of it. Then all of a sudden life came back to her eyes in the worst way possible. She almost fell down in her attempt to get to the bathroom.
“it’s okay baby” I whispered sweet nothings to her as I held her hair and rubbed her back. Nick and Matt showed up shortly after she finished dry heaving, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her drink anything as fast as she drank that water.
If I thought it was a hassle trying to get her in the car, I had no clue how hard it would be to get her up a flight of stairs. She giggled as I picked her up bridal style… it made me so happy to hear her laughing.
once she got into more comfortable clothes, she fell asleep in no time.
as she held onto me and nuzzled into my side, my heart shattered. All I want is for her to be happy, but I know that I can’t fix everything. I kiss her on the forehead before rolling over and going to sleep.
“”“”“”“”“”
@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann
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leeylisten · 1 year
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What do you think hunters favorite Taylor album would be? 👀👀
Woow. Such a great question! Actually, I have thought about this before.
Okay, so, I believe that for Hunter is impossible to actually pick ONE album as his favorite. He's an anxious person, and he switches from music preferences depending on how he feels, so I imagine it would be something like this:
When he wants to feel a little more like a teenager, he listens to 'Taylor Swift'. Singing 'Picture to burn' or 'You should've said no' to the top of his lungs is something that makes him feel strangely powerful. Plus, listening to 'Fifteen' makes him a little emotional.
For days when he wants to feel all badass, he probably listens to 'Reputation'. I can totally picture him playing shooter games and whenever he kills something, he goes "Ohh! Look what you make me do!" with a weird shoulder movement while shaking his head from side to side.
Cleaning days are always '1989' and 'Fearless' days. He does the dusting while dancing to 'Shake it off', or takes out the garbage walking backwards to 'You belong with me'. (Because then he goes back to the house at the beat of 'Ohh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night, I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're bout to cry -clap-clap'). However, he never listens to 'wildest dreams' if he knows he might get some company. He blushes too much at the song. That's the main reason why he only plays 'Lover' album at nights, after Gus is sleeping. 'Paper rings', 'Daylight', 'Cruel summer' and 'Lover' keep him daydreaming. It is too easy for him to imagine alternative universes in which he lives all those lyrics, always with the same person *wink wink*.
When he's starving happy stamina, he listens to 'Speak now'. He always leaves 'Mean' for the end, so he is full of himself when the 'but all you are is mean, and a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life, and mean' part comes and he feels it deep in his heart.
Hunter definitely listens to 'Red (Taylor's version)' when feeling melancholic. The first time he watched the 'All too Well' video (15-minute version), he cried. Gus and Willow found him an hour later checking on Jake Gyllenhaal's Instagram. He also uses the 10-minute version as a timer when he needs to do things quickly. He loves to listen to this album when sewing because the songs are like little stories he can picture as movies in his head.
When 'Midnight' album came out, Hunter didn't sleep. He spent the whole night listening to it, deciding which songs were his favorites. Still unsure, but his top three are: 'You're on your own, kid', 'Anti-hero' and 'Mastermind' because 'no one wanted to play with me as a little kid, so I've been scheming like a criminal ever since to make them love me and make it seem effortless...' ... I don't think it's necessary to explain why he likes it so much. *Fun fact, once, he was helping Willow to remove some undergrowth from Camila's garden and tiny little flowers popped up from the dirt. She explained that from what she had read, it was uncommon for those to grow and live without help. He used the analogy of 'Snow on the beach' and she beamed at him. Since then, it is also one of his favorites.
Anywways, I do believe with all my heart that Hunter discovered Taylor in her pandemic era. Plus, he's an indie soul, so he fell for her music when twinnies 'Folklore' and 'Evermore' came out. And those are his comfort albums. He listens to both of them once a week. However, once, while he was answering a survey for a random guy at the supermarket, this question came. He thought about it for a couple of seconds, then replied 'Evermore'. Gus, who was with him at that time, asked him later why (knowing that his friend is a massive swiftie nerd). Hunter blushed, then looked aside and said "I guess I just like the line-up".
If anyone reading this doesn't know what I mean, I cordially invite you to check what's the name of the first song in the said album. Then, you can draw your conclusions and understand why Hunter thinks being a swiftie is part of his fate and why he does so fondly think about the album as one of the most beautiful things in the human realm.
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saetoru · 6 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ SORCERY SCHEMES — GETO SUGURU.
contents. non sorcery au!, husband! suguru, gn! reader, nanako and mimiko are still your kids, silly lil shenanigans of cult leader! suguru being in your dreams
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suguru has been the source of your anger for lots of things over the years. some fair, others not so much.
that one important date he accidentally missed because he got caught up at work. that time you vented and he tried to tell you to toughen up instead of picking your side. that time he accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater in the laundry. that time he fell asleep while you were talking late at night (he had insisted he was tired, in his defense—you were just too stubborn to let him sleep.)
marriage has its ups and downs, but suguru likes to think you’re a strong couple—but this? this is the most outrageously ridiculous reason to be mad at him—he’s simply at a loss.
“so let me get this straight,” he starts slowly, as if trying to comprehend something far too complex for his simple mind, “you’re mad at me because i had some superpowers in your dream—”
“it was sorcery,” you hiss, “were you even listening?”
“right. sorry. i was…a sorcerer,” he apologizes. he looks at you like you’re insane—your eye twitches just a little. “and then suddenly i went crazy in the head and killed a village and adopted nanako and mimiko and…left. to basically cleanse an entire demographic. is that right?”
“you had a cult too.”
“and the cult,” he nods slowly, “can’t forget the cult.”
“yeah,” you glower—if looks could kill, suguru thinks he might have never been born at all. this is a new one, he has to admit. “and it was really fucking rude. you left. and you took the kids before i could even meet them.”
“okay,” he says tiredly, rubbing his forehead, “baby, i don’t know if you realize this, but i don’t…i can’t perform sorcery. and i don’t have a cult i can lead either. i’m just a literature teacher—”
“i know what you are,” you snap, shoving away the hand he tries to reach at you with, “you’re a selfish psychopath who committed heinous crimes and left me single and alone as you led a group of people to follow your crazy ideas. don’t even think about touching me—”
“so do you want me to apologize?” he sighs, “because i’m sorry—”
“what if i left you? huh? and just started killing everyone who has blue eyes? what then? i’ll take the kids this time and leave you alone, see how you like it.”
“well, at least that gets rid of satoru,” he mutters quietly. and then he grins—chuckles a soft little laugh that makes the edges of your lips curl just a bit. “you’re crazy,” he snorts, shaking his head. and then— “but i love you. c’mere.”
you don’t fight the hand the reaches towards you this time, letting his arm curl around your waist and pull you into his side. that’s a good sign, he thinks, so he tests the waters and plants a kiss to your head. you melt just a little.
“i’m still mad at you,” you mumble.
“yeah, i figured,” he grins, “anything i can do to erase my sins as a mass murderer?”
“you can make breakfast,” you hum, leaning closer as you rub circles into his chest, “and wash the dishes.”
“easy enough,” he nods, pulling a scowl from you.
“you’re not off the hook yet,” you click your teeth.
“of course,” he nods in agreement, “i still have to atone for my radical actions. i’ll start by resurrecting all the people i killed. that should do it, right?”
“suguru, be serious,” you huff, “i was very sad, okay?”
“did you miss me?” he wriggles his brows—you look at him incredulously before slapping his chest. he chuckles a little too long for your liking.
“what a stupid question,” you pinch your nose, “so if i became delusional and ran off to erase a population, you wouldn’t be upset with me?”
“actually, i’d follow you because i love you,” he shrugs, pinching your nose lightly, “i’d be your cult’s second-in-command. obviously you just didn’t love me enough in your dream to do the same for me.”
“you didn’t invite me,” you pout through a glare, “what was i supposed to do? show up unwelcome?”
“well, nothing was stopping you. was i at least a strong sorcerer?” he asks in wonder.
you think for a moment before nodding. “yeah,” you say thoughtfully, “one of the strongest.”
“nice,” he grins—he seems a bit too pleased for something that happened in your dreams.
you decide to deal the harsh blow. “but not nearly as strong as satoru. you know he was the literally the strongest?”
“okay,” he scowls, “if you do kill blue-eyed people, start with him.”
you giggle, leaning up to kiss his jaw as he lets a soft grin pull over his features. he laughs with you—and suddenly, you’re both chuckling together uncontrollably.
it’s a bit of a silly circumstance, but he kisses your forehead and means it when he says, “sorry i left you to kill people and led a cult and committed a bunch of crimes while i wiped out a whole group of people. i didn’t mean it.”
“you took the kids too,” you remind him.
“i don’t know what i was thinking,” he shakes his head, “those two are a handful. how was i managing being a single father with all that on my plate?”
“that’s why you shouldn’t have left me,” you point out.
“you’re right,” he agrees, “i’ll invite you if i ever snap and lose my sanity.”
“good. you’re forgiven. now, i want chocolate chip pancakes—and make coffee while you’re at it.”
“yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes. he kisses you though, a soft little peck over your lips as you hum into the kiss and cup his cheek, “you got it. whatever you want.”
“i want you,” you murmur, “unhinged sorcerer and all.”
he laughs at the craziness of it all—but he loves it anyway, loves you despite it all.
“and i want you too,” he grins, hopelessly in love, “if you’ll do me the honors and join my crazy sorcery schemes.”
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hi i’m tee and i had a dream that my rude ass sister stole my car and totaled it and now im very mad at her and i am not speaking to her until she apologizes. she refuses so im now double mad
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luveline · 7 months
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hi, i have a request for hotch if that's okay with you :)
when they're on the jet, yn is smiling a lot at her phone so the team starts to tease her because the think that she has a mysterious boyfriend. and she does, but he's sitting right next to her and he's also wondering who's making her smile like that since it's clearly not him
tysm!
Hotch is trying hard to award you your privacy, but your smile makes it difficult. You're actually squared away from him despite sitting in the seat beside him of your own free will, your phone to your chest, a huge smile curved across your cute mouth. 'Cute mouth', Hotch thinks to himself with derision. He's thoroughly whipped for you. It might not work out. 
You've been secretive and strange on your phone for an hour now. With nothing left to do but wait for the jet to touch down, you can watch whatever or text whenever you want. Hotch just wishes it wasn't so distracting. Who are you texting? He feels ill. 
"Who's that?" 
The dam finally breaks. As soon as Morgan asks, Emily pipes up, "Yeah, who is it?" as Rossi laughs and declares, "I know that look. Young Y/N's in love." 
You side eye Hotch. "Workplace harassment," you say. 
"Who is it?" Hotch asks. 
You gawp but laugh at his unprofessional questioning, pressing your phone screen tight to your chest. "Hotch, it's–" 
"Your not-so-secret boyfriend? Come on, we all know you have one," Morgan says. 
"I know you know, you're like sharks," you say, giving them all a great long look. 
For weeks now, you've glowed. This overzealous smiling and laughing is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Your nosy coworkers can't hold back their curiosity any longer. Hotch was stupid enough to think that your secretive dates and nights spent curled in on one another might be the reason behind your new hopped up sprightliness, but apparently not. 
"So you admit it!" Emily cheers. 
"Maybe. But it's not what's happening on my phone." 
"Well, what is it?" Spencer asks. 
They've leaned in on you, a circle of eager faces. Your sudden decision to admit you —maybe— have a boyfriend is as much as anyone's gotten out of you in weeks. If anyone could tease the truth from you, of course it's Hotch, and so the team looks to their leader pleadingly. 
He's not sure he wants to know. "They won't leave you alone otherwise," he says, hoping that his expression shows his leniency. Your secrets are your own if you want to keep them. 
You smile at him. Again, he thinks you have a cute mouth, and that he's biassed but you definitely smile sweeter at him than anyone else. You and Hotch know something the others don't, amusement like light behind your irises. "I'll show you," you say smugly, "and only you, Hotch." 
"Typical," Morgan murmurs, sitting back on the couch. 
Hotch clenches his sweaty palms beneath the table. "Alright." 
You lean in against his shoulder. Your phone turns on, and he's taking deep breaths as you click to your photo app, and then an album labelled with a simple, '<3'. 
It's photos of him. Most he knows you took, sitting across from you in dark restaurants or kneeling in your apartment putting together a new set of drawers. Your giggles begin in earnest as you swipe through them to a more recent photograph. You couldn't have taken it more than a week ago, when he'd stayed the night with you by accident, too tired to leave. His face is slack in sleep. He realises it's a video when you click a button and the sound of crinkling fabric plays from your speaker. In the video, you unbutton the tight collar of his shirt, stroking his neck briefly with a loving knuckle. The video moves down to frame his arm, his hand clinging to your other one like a sucker. 
Hotch looks up from the video and blinks at you. Your hand on his sleeping neck, the sound of your tired laughter —he can't not smile. "Oh. That's…"
"What did you show him?" Morgan asks, his voice coloured with both amusement and frustration. The team echo his question.
"I can't kiss and tell," you say, still tucked up by his side. 
"I think it's best if you don't, L/N," Hotch agrees. 
He'd lose all credibility. 
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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 days
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experimentation
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words: 6.9k
warnings: 18+ only!!!, aged up!sarah (takes place in season 1 but shes 18/19 and rafe is like 22/23 for the fic) smut, lesbian sex, tit play, girl on girl action, scissoring, dildo/sex toys, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blowjob, losing virginity, cheating(ish), reader sleeps with sarah and rafe (not at the same time omg there is NO incest!!), 69ing, female receiving oral, experimenting/unserious?? sex, hooking up to relationship, they say i love you at the end awwww, soft!rafe, i think thats everything jesus christ
it all started with one simple question. sarah sat on the edge of her bed, finishing the top coat of her toenail polish while you braided your mostly dry hair to have loose curls tomorrow.
“have you ever kissed a girl?”
that's all it took. for you to say no, that'd like to,, just to see what it's like, and then to press your lips against sarahs.
you laid in bed together, just kissing. it felt different than any of the guys you've kissed in the past. sarahs lips are softer, sweeter, her tongue gentler when it licks into your mouth.
“do you…” sarah gasps out against your lips. “do you think we could do more?
you blink at her, processing her words and the sudden kiss when you've been just friends for years. 
“just to experiment.” sarah shrugs, looking down to your chest, your nipples hard against your shirt. “i wanna…”
“yeah.” you nod. “lets keep going. just… two friends experimenting.” you smile at her. “having fun.”
you've seen each other naked before, so it's not too much of a shock as you strip down. usually it'd be to pull a swimsuit on or change into a dress, you've never sat and really looked at sarah.
“your… your boobs are so nice.” you giggle softly, her tits sit perfectly, even and plump.
“you wanna touch them?” she asks, looking down at her own body.
“yeah.” you nod quickly, crawling the short distance separating you as you reach out with a gentle hand, gently ghosting around the outside of her breasts before moving closer, cupping her tits and feeling how heavy they are in your hands.
“is it okay if i um… lick them?” you question, staring at her perfect nipples, hard and peaked up, practically begging for you to suck them.
“yeah, as long as i get to do it to you too.” sarah giggles gently.
you bend down, cautiously swiping your tongue over her nipple. sarah gently moans, encouraging you on as you wrap your lips around the bud, sucking gently as your palms massage her tits.
sarah presses a hand against the back of your head, gentle and just slightly pushing you down, keeping you against your chest. you don't fight against it, testing what feels best against your tongue, switching between lapping, sucking and even gently pressing your teeth against her chest.
you leave her nipple with a wet kiss before switching to the other side, repeating the movements.
“god, that… that feels good.” sarah moans out as you pull away with a little giggle.
“that was fun. i wish i had your boobs, seriously.”
“oh, shut up.” sarah laughs. “your's are way better than mine.” she glances down at your body. your chest is smaller than hers, but her gaze doesn't stay there for long as her eyes flick down to where your thighs are pressed together.
“it's not really having sex, right?” sarah glances up to you. “we'll still be virgins just… this doesn’t count since we’re just.. experimenting” .”
“yeah.” you nod. “we're friends, there's nothing wrong with just having some fun.”
“okay.” sarah takes a deep breath before pushing the thought out of her mind, done trying to rationalize the want she feels swelling in her lower stomach.
“lay down.” sarah gestures for you to rest your head on the pillow, which you do slowly, keeping your legs together to not reveal too much too early.
sarah climbs over you as your eyes drift to the ceiling before closing when you feel her mouth on you. she keeps to kisses, pressing them all over your front, from your clavicle down to right above your belly button. 
“i… i wanna eat you out.” sarah says as your eyes blink open, realizing she's hovering over you.
“okay.” you nod, raising your head to give her a kiss, quickly getting lost in the way your lips move against each others.
sarahs hand plays gently with your chest, rubbing over your nipples with her palm, pressing against them with delightful pressure.
you let out a little whine, hips shifting from side to side as you feel your wetness growing. sarah laughs as she looks down at you. “it's okay, im really horny too.”
she gives you another quick peck, verging on friendly, reminding you that all you're doing is testing things out, trying what it's like to be like with a girl, and there's no one better to experiment with than your closest friend.
sarah moves lower, tapping your thigh as you spread them. she makes herself comfortable between them on her stomach.
she pauses, looking between your spread legs at your bare pussy. she hesitates for barely longer than a second before diving in, mouth pressing against your cunt, tongue sneaking out to lick up your wetness.
“oh fuck!” you squeal, hands fisting into the sheets. “fuck, sarah!”
“does that feel good?” she asks, tilting her head to the side, licking her lips to continue to taste you.
“yeah!” you nod rapidly. “really good. keep going, please.”
“okay.” sarah laughs gently again, moving a little slower this time, licking over your folds before swirling her tongue around your clit. she knows what she likes when touching herself, and tries to replicate it with her tongue on you.
you let yourself get lost in the feeling, knowing you should probably dull your moans to not wake up all of tanneyhill, but as you look down between your legs to see sarahs delicate tongue licking against your cunt, your can't control your sounds.
“im gonna finger you.” sarah says, wanting to make sure you know what she's going to do as you rapidly nod. 
she pushes your legs further apart, looking at your entrance as her fingertip slides in, continuing to push into your wet heat until it's buried to the hilt.
“does that feel nice?” she asks.
“really nice. try moving it.” you swallow harshly, your clit needing her mouth back on it.
sarah nods, slowly thrusting her finger in and out, getting used to it as the tempo increases gradually.
“im-im gonna cum once you start eating me out again.” you warn. “i don't know if you want that to happen.”
“of course.” sarah presses her mouth against your leg, kissing your thighs. “isn’t that the whole point of this? well most of it at least” .”
“need you on my clit again then.” you let out a deep breath.
“I got you .” sarah listens quickly, mouth back on your clit as her finger continues, tilting it upward to press right against your sweet spot, making you cry out as her mouth sucks and sucks.
“i-oh my god sarah!” you squeal as your high breaks over the walls, hips pressing up as your entire body shakes, cunt clenching around her finger. sarah licks up your slick before taking a deep breath.
“you actually taste good.” she hums, pulling her finger out and pressing it between her cheeks, sucking the digit like it's a lollipop, swirling her tongue to get the taste off.
“that felt really good too.” you blush, cheeks heating up. “what do you want me to do to you?”
“we should try scissoring.” sarah says. “ive seen it in porn.”
“is that where you got all these ideas from?” you ask, eyebrows raising up.
“yeah.” she nods. “it's hot without guys.”
for the first time, you realize sarah may be looking for more than just a night of fun, and might genuinely see you as someone she's attracted to. you don't have much time to delve deeper as she spreads your thighs, placing her own wet pussy against yours.
“im just gonna-” sarah let's out a gasp as her face twists in pleasure, your bare cunts bumping against each other's as her hips move.
“oh, fuck! sarah!” you squeal. you push yourself up to sit, beginning to move as well, rubbing against her thigh and occasionally her pussy as sarah does the same thing to you, her mouth slackened and tits jigging with every movement.
you long to reach forward and have your mouth around them again, but you're determined to have sarah reach that high that she brought you too.
you tip her back so you can do all the work, grinding and grinding until her whole body tenses up as she cums with a low moan of your name.
you flop back against the bed, sarah crawling in a moment to also place her head on the pillow.
“that was fun.” she says, chest still rising and falling rapidly.
you nod. “we should do that again.”
--
“well look who it is.” rafe smirks at you, placing a hand on your lower back. “none other than y/n l/n.”
“hey rafey.” you giggle. you have a bit of a love hate relationship with rafe. you bickered a lot when you were younger, but when a guy was messing with you in high school, you went right to rafe who quickly sorted it out.
“you look so pretty in this dress.” he says, tugging you towards the dance floor, a mess of bodies twisting and grinding.
you see rafe often when you're hanging out with sarah, but she stayed home from the party due to a headache, so it's a rare time alone without his sibling.
“dance with me?” he asks, pressing his lips against your ear.
you nod. just because you're fooling around with sarah shouldn't stop you from exploring other options, after all, she's half-dating topper despite diving between your legs during sleepovers.
rafe moves in tempo to the music. you dance back against him, grabbing his hands which are respectfully by his side to place on your hips.
“im not a kid anymore, rafe.” you close the distance between your bodies so rafe is grinding right into your bum. you can feel what's growing in his pants, a slight smile on your face.
“yeah, but you're my little sisters friend. just because i wanna fuck you doesn't mean-”
you turn around suddenly, not waiting to hear the rest of what he has to say. “you wanna fuck me?”
“of course.” rafe smirks, hand trailing down from your lower back to squeeze your ass.
“fuck me then.” you place your hands on his neck, pulling him down into a harsh kiss. the party is at toppers house, so you assume rafe knows how to get you alone as you follow him through the house until you're in a guest bedroom.
“promise you won't tell sarah?” he says, not wanting to deal with her shit for sleeping with you.
“i won't as long as you don't.” you say, knowing rafe doesn't realize how sarah would be just as upset with you too, for sleeping with her brother while you're fooling around with her on the side.
rafe nods, satisfied that this will be a secret as he pulls you against him. his hand grips your ass as his mouth devours yours, so much stronger than sarahs felt against yours. he's harsh, demanding and unforgiving.
your hands fist in his shirt, partially to hold yourself up as his lips attack yours. he slowly steps further into the room until the back of your knees hit the bed.
“take that dress off.” rafe grunts out. “let me see that perfect body.”
you pull your dress off, revealing the small matching set of lingerie you have on underneath. rafe let's out a growl, like a predator who finally got it's prey as he turns you around to face the bed before pushing you down so you flop onto your stomach.
“such a nice ass, kid.” rafe swats your barely covered bum. “anyone ever told you that before?”
“nnnnn.” you hum out as an answer, mouth half pressed into the mattress.
rafe suddenly pauses. “you're not a virgin are you?”
he waits, and when you don't answer, he knows the truth. 
“shit.” he groans. “listen, i want you but im not gonna have you lose your virginity at a random party, okay?”
“no, i want it rafe.” you flip over so you're on your back, pouting your lower lip out as you look up at him. “really, i do.”
“and ill take your virginity, but not here, not tonight. when you're not drunk and when i can lay you out and not worry about people barging in on us.”
“okay.” you pout with a slow nod. you're not drunk, but you have had a couple sips of beer, and you understand why rafe is hesitant. “but can we still do something tonight?”
“yeah? you wanna suck my dick or something?” rafe smirks down at you, not expecting you to nod enthusiastically and slink off the bed onto your knees.
“you sure?” he questions. “you don't have to. we could just make out or i could finger you-”
“come here.” you reach out to rafe, tugging him closer by the loops on his pants. you waste no time undoing the button and zipper and pulling the fabric down.
you would feel a lot less confident if you haven't been experimenting with sarah, getting to learn how to use your mouth for pleasure, even though it's a bit different now that it's her brothers dick.
“damn, baby.” rafe groans when you press kisses along his length, wetting his underwear until you get sick of the barrier and tug them down.
rafes cock is already hardened and pops up to hit you on the tip of your nose.
“ouch.” you frown, brows furrowing together when rafe let's out a laugh.
you don't allow him to continue laughing at you as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, sinking down until you feel yourself gag. you pull up only to push your head back down, determined to make this good for rafe.
“shit- fuck!” rafe shouts out, placing a hand on the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair, ruining the curls you spent so long perfecting.
you hollow out your cheeks as you suck, tongue swirling around the underside of his cock. you cant go all the way down without his cock going too deep in your throat, so you wrap a hand around the base, gently stroking as your mouth works.
“shit!” rafe hisses out again. “you've done this before, haven't you?”
“nope.” you pull away with a pop. “just like your dick.”
you press a kiss against the head of his cock. it's wet and sloppy with precum and spit, but you don't care. 
“come over this weekend so i can fuck you, yeah?” rafe says. you nod before sinking your lips back down over his cock, not thinking in the moment that you'd already made plans with sarah.
--
“i got something.” sarah whispers, giving you a wink.
“what?” you lean in, waiting for her to whisper in your ear, but she just shakes her head, a mischievous look on her face.
“you'll see later.” she takes a bite of her pizza, rolling her eyes as rafe walks in.
“hey.” he grins at you, his smile stretching wide as he grabs a piece of pizza from the open box. “how you doing y/n?”
“leave my friend alone, rafe!” sarah says, making you giggle.
“im doing well rafe, how are you?”
he just nods and smiles, knowing that you're going to sneak out of sarahs room just like you'd planned after sucking him off at the party, where he came deep down your throat.
rafe manages to ghost his fingers along your back as he leaves, but not before taking another piece of pizza.
“god, he's such a dick.” sarah rolls her eyes.
you just nod. arguing about it would certainly give yourself away, and you're not willing to risk ruining sleeping with either of them. even though you're just fooling around with sarah, and it will surely stop when she gets a boyfriend, you're having a lot of fun for now. it makes you feel closer to her, like this is a secret you'll carry together for a long time. you even imagine drunkenly spilling it to your husbands twenty years from now when you're both happily married off.
you go through the motions like normal, finishing eating, saying goodnight to ward before disappearing into sarahs room. it's not until the door closes and locks behind you that there's a shift.
sarah immediately begins to strip, clearly eager and waiting for this moment. you follow her actions until you're both nude. if you thought you were comfortable being naked around her before, it's only increased since fooling around together.
“okay, look under the blanket.” sarah says. you didn't even realize a fluffy blanket had been obviously draped over something. you pull the fabric away to reveal a pink dildo. your eyes widen as you look to sarah.
“you bought a dildo?” you hiss out, a smile coming to her face as she eagerly nods.
“you gotta use it on me, oh my god. please, y/n?” she pouts. “there's this guy i like and… and i think i might give it up to him.”
“topper?” you question, surprised because it seems like she's been distancing herself from him.
sarah just smiles shyly. “oh my god, who?” you squeal.
“i really can't tell.” sarah says. she doesn't know your opinion on john b, and doesn't want to risk upsetting you.
“fine, then you don't know who i might be giving it up to.” you shrug, flopping down onto the bed as you pick up the dildo, inspecting it.
“you what?” sarah asks, her eyes wide.
“if you wanna keep secrets, i can to.” you shrug. in truth, you'd never tell her that it's her brother. you're not even sure you'd admit it to sarah if you were ten years down the line and married to rafe. your friendship is too precious, and you know she'd be extremely upset.
“ugh, fine.” sarah crosses her arms, lifting her boobs up in a way that has you licking your lips. 
“get over here.” it's all you have to say for sarah to climb onto the bed, your mouth attaching to her chest the second she's close enough.
you suck and play with her tits while you fool around with the dildo, putting it between her legs but just running it through her folds.
you're nowhere near done with her tits when sarah gently pushes your head lower. you let out a whine but ultimately concede.
“im just nervous to have it inside me.” sarah admits. “anxious.”
“it's okay.” you coo out as she lays back, spreading her legs. “ill help you out and go slow, that's what friends are for afterall.” you shrug.
you decide it'll be best to start with your finger as you press your digit into her. she's so wet you can easily thrust it in and out, but you still use your other hand to rub at her clit, just to relax sarah even more.
“you ready?” you question after rubbing for a while.
“mhm.” she whines out, chest moving up and down, partly from nerves and partly from pleasure.
you pull your finger out and grab the dildo again. you take a moment to rub the entire length against her, getting it thoroughly wet before pressing the head of the fake cock against her entrance. you move slowly as you push it in, watching her pussy bloom around it.
“fuck, sarah.” you moan out. “this is hot.”
“come sit on my face.” sarah says, her eyebrows scrunched together in concentration, needing the distraction of eating out your pussy.
“mmkay.” you hold the dildo pushed inside of her as you swing your hips over, briefly hovering your pussy over her face. you begin to lower slowly, only for sarah to grab your hips and slam your cunt down onto her awaiting tongue.
you let out a soft moan, eyes sliding shut as her mouth works against your folds. you finally remember that you need to move when her tongue thrusts into your cunt.
you blink out the haze of pleasure as you start to move the dildo gently in and out, moaning slightly at the slick noises, wet and sloppy as you thrust it inside of her.
“harder.” sarah says against your skin, voice vibrating over your pussy.
you speed up the movements of your hand, pushing in harder and faster. you drop your mouth to her pussy as well, needing to taste her against your tongue as you lick around her entrance before moving up to her clit.
“shit.” sarah moans out, hands squeezing harder at your thighs. you hope they don't bruise as you'll have to explain it to rafe later.
you move as fast as your arm will allow, bicep cramping up as you focus in on her clit, sucking as intensely as you can until you feel a rush of wetness gushing out of sarahs cunt. you pull the dildo out as she squirts, wetting the sheets.
“fuck!” sarah shouts. you're glad that the walls in tanneyhill are mostly soundproof.
“holy shit that was hot.” you giggle. you go to move from hovering over her body, but sarahs hands are rough on your hips as her mouth delves back in, wasting no time teasing as she flicks her tongue over your clit until your own high bursts, your cunt pressing into her mouth, wetting her face.
you flop to the side with a loud sigh, both equally satiated. 
sarah moves to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “thanks for trying that with me.”
“of course.” you smile, kissing her again, mouth devouring hers.
“im so tired now though.” she giggles before letting out a yawn.
“sleep, it's okay.” you coo out. you both roll away slightly from each other, adjusting to get comfortable on the bed and pillows as sarah is quickly snoring. you keep yourself awake, occasionally glancing over until you're sure she's been asleep long enough to not easily wake.
you slide out of the bed, keeping your movements as quietly as you possibly can as you sneak into the bathroom, wetting a washcloth and quickly cleaning yourself off so you don't already smell like sex.
you slip nothing but a robe on before tiptoeing out of sarahs room. you'd be absolutely fucked if ward or rose found you, but you rely on the hope that it's late enough for them not to be roaming the hallways.
you don't knock as you arrive at rafes room, opening the door and slipping in before locking it behind you.
“jesus, i thought you'd never come.” rafe stands quickly, cupping your cheeks as he kisses you, hot and wet as your hands press against his abs, running up and down against his muscles.
“sorry, sarah took forever to fall asleep.” you whisper against his lips. your eyebrows rise when he reaches down, lifting you easily to move you towards the bed.
you're glad rafe is just in his underwear, not wanting to wait before you get his cock inside of you, especially after seeing how much sarah liked the dildo.
you feel dirty sleeping with your best friends brother right after fooling around with her, but the thoughts quickly dissipate as rafe tugs on the belt of the robe, parting the two sides to reveal your completely nude body.
“fuck, baby. you're trying to kill me with those perfect tits.” rafe bends to drop his mouth around your nipple, toying with them in a way that's so different to sarah. she focuses on your pleasure, what feels good to you, while rafes movements are purely for him, doing what he wishes to without too much consideration for you, especially as his teeth sink into the plumpness of your breast.
you loop your legs around his hips, pulling him in until your crotches bump together. you grind your hips up and down, wetting his underwear as your clit brushes over the soft fabric.
“shit.” rafe groans, reaching down to push his underwear down his thighs.
you keep grinding, his bare cock now slipping through your folds, getting it significantly lubricated. rafes cock catches on your entrance just as his tongue flicks over your nipple. your back arches off the bed with a loud moan as he pushes in halfway, taking your virginity in one smooth motion.
“w-wait!” you squeal out.
rafe looks up, a worried look on his face as he pulls his cock out of you. “what's wrong?”
“condom!” you say. “im not on anything.”
rafe frowns. “we gotta get you on birth control so i can cum inside of you.”
“you wanna keep fucking me?” you ask with a smile as he moves to his nightstand, grabbing out a condom and tearing open the foil.
“of course.” rafe looks at you like it's obvious as he rolls the rubber down over his cock. “i swear im gonna take you out on dates and shit too.”
“rafey you've gone soft.” you giggle as he leans over the bed again, cock lined up with your pussy again. you clench around nothing, waiting to have him back inside.
“had a crush on you forever.” he says, pressing a kiss against your lips. “just couldn't do anything with sarah always around.”
you hum, shifting your hips from side to side. you don't want to talk about your best friend, you want rafe to fuck you, even if your pussy is already sensitive from your earlier orgasm with sarah.
“tell me if it hurts or im going too fast.” rafe gives you one last sweet kiss before his entire demeanor changes. he pushes his cock into you with a grunt, giving you only the smallest moment to adjust before he begins to move.
his cock pushes in and out, in and out, his balls slapping against you with every movement. you're forced to do nothing but lay back and moan, trying to keep yourself quiet as he pummels you.
rafe straightens up, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed as he stands, using as much force as he can to fuck into you, knowing he probably should go gentler for your first time, but he can't help himself.
“oh my god, rafe!” you squirm, hands seeking to grip onto something until you settle for one hand over his, the one securely holding your waist, while your other hand fists in his sheets.
rafe pushes his thumb against your clit, determined to make you cum quickly for the first time you're together, not knowing that you're already sensitive from cumming earlier in the day.
“p-please.” you whine out. you're not even sure what you're pleading for as tears well in your eyes from the pure pleasure of how hard and good rafe is fucking you.
“you close baby?” he coos out, a smirk gracing his features, seeing just how fucked out and lost in his cock you are.
“yeah.” you nod rapidly. “real close.”
rafe somehow manages to move faster, cock pushing into you at a rapid pace while his thumb flicks aggressively over your clit until your high breaks, back arching off the bed as your cunt pulses around rafes cock, triggering his own orgasm as he buries himself to the hilt, cumming deep inside of you, wishing there wasn't the barrier of the condom so he could truly flood you.
rafe collapses forward against you, both breathing heavily. he pulls out carefully but doesn't move enough to discard his condom yet, letting his cock soften against your lower stomach.
“that was really good.” you admit shyly.
rafe smiles gently then kisses you, hands gently petting your sides, before moving down to your thighs, rubbing and making sure you're relaxed.
“i have to get back to sarah.” you say with a pout.
“shit, you're right.” rafe frowns, standing straight and pulling the condom off, tossing it in the trash before readjusting his underwear to cover himself.
“come here.” you reach your arms out, giving rafe another kiss before you do up your robe and stand with slightly wobbly legs.
“y/n.” rafe says, cupping your cheek before you head towards the door. “im serious about taking you out on a date.”
“i know.” you giggle softly, getting on your tiptoes to give him a final goodnight kiss before slipping away, thankful sarah is still fast asleep when you make it back inside her room.
--
“i lost it.” sarah whispers to you, a genuine smile on her face.
“oh my god!” you whisper-scream, noting the way several of the older people scattered around turn to look at you.
“with topper?” you question, tugging sarah away from the crowd.
“no.” she admits shyly. “with uh… with someone else.”
“girl, who?” you ask, finding a random empty room in the country club and stepping inside.
“i can't say-” 
“holy shit, is it john b?” your eyes widen and judging by sarahs reaction, you figured out the right person.
you knew about john b staying at tanneyhill, it's why you've been avoiding it lately and not seeing sarah as much. you didn't mind john b, but prefered to keep your distance, especially since ward was only looking after him because he had charges brought against him that ward was able to help out with.
“isn't he dangerous?”
“no.” she shakes her head quickly, a blush ghosting over her face as she smiles. “he's… the sweetest guy. and so funny.”
“but didn't he…” you trail off.
“oh, no.” she shakes her head rapidly again. “he's innocent. he was falsely accused, that's why dad took him in.”
“okay…” you shrug. “as long as you're happy girl, ill support you.”
“this is why you're my best friend.” sarah says, wrapping her arms around your shoulders, pulling you in for a tight hug. “thanks for helping me with everything. i felt so confident when we finally did it.”
“yeah, im gonna need details.” you giggle. you should tell sarah that you lost it to, but the excitement sparking in her eye makes you hesitate.
--
you frown as you walk into tanneyhill, looking around for sarah before you bump into rafe, literally, as you round a corner not hearing is footsteps and crash straight into him.
“shit.” rafe curses, hands coming to your shoulders, looking you up and down. “you okay?”
“mhm.” you nod. “i just don't know where sarah is. i texted her and she didn't respond and she's not here.”
“she's probably with that pogue.” rafe frowns, shaking his head slightly from side to side. “but now that you're here…” 
you can't help the smile that spreads over your cheeks. “what about that date you promised me on?” you question. you've slept with rafe several times since that first night, but whenever you made plans to go out, things got interrupted, either by ward or sarah.
“ill take you wherever you want to go, princess.” rafe slings his arm around your shoulder, leading you out towards the door. you didn't prepare for a date, but it's not like rafe hasn't seen practically every dress in your closet.
“how about just to dinner?” you loop your arm around his back, resting your hand on his waist. “i want you.”
rafe throws his head back in a laugh. “someone is needy.”
ever since you stopped also getting off with sarah since she got serious with john b, you've relied solely on rafe to fulfill your urges. 
it feels more natural than being with sarah, but at the same time more serious. you're thinking something could genuinely come out of your time with rafe, whereas you know sarah was only there for experimenting, for fun.
dinner goes by smoother than you could have imagined, rafe on his best behavior to impress you, taking extra care in doing every gentlemanly thing possible, whether it's opening doors for you or pulling out your chair, even going as far as to tell the waiter your order, already knowing your preferences and that you don't like talking to strangers.
by the time you get back to tanneyhill, you're giggly and anxious to get alone with rafe. what you don't expect is to see sarah standing there in the hallway, eyes wide as she sees the way rafe has you tucked against him.
“sarah, let me explain.” you say, but she turns away and runs to her room before you can get another word out.
“baby, just let her go-” rafe says, but you're already chasing after her.
“ill be back, promise!” you call as you dash up the stairs, managing to make it into sarahs room before she locks the door.
“seriously?” she shouts. “of all people, you sleep with my brother?”
“sarah…” you say cautiously, seeing how upset she is, how fast her chest is heaving up and down. “we just had our first date. it just… came out of nowhere. i really like him though. its not that different than you and john b.”
“dont bring him up right now.” she hisses out. “this is different! you were messing around with me and my brother?”
“no!” you lie. you know its wrong, but theres no way sarah would ever find out you were sleeping with both of them, and you want to preserve her feelings as much as you can. “this was our first date tonight. we haven’t done anything, but sarah-” you make sure shes looking at you, making eye contact. “we will. and you have to be okay with that, just like i was okay with you getting with john b.”
sarah lets out a deep sighs before nodding. “im sorry. you’re right. i just… i just liked having both of you. i know we were just experimenting, but it felt so good to be close to you like that.”
you move forward, wrapping your arms around her shoulders in a tight hug. “you’re always gonna have me, sarah. that’s what best friends are for.”
“i love you.” she says honestly. “youre a great friend, i was just… shocked.”
“its okay.” you say honestly. “hes your brother, we fooled around, youre allowed to be weirded out.”
“why don’t you take a few days? ill leave you be and you can just… adjust.” you know this won’t be the end of your friendship, youre too close, gone through too much.
“thank you.” sarah squeezes you back. “ill talk to you soon.”
“take your time.” you say, hesitating slightly before pressing a kiss against her lips. she may be with a guy now, and you may be with rafe, but that’ll never change what you’ve done. 
you turn to leave, to allow sarah to process her emotions in peace when she calls out to you. “y/n?” 
you turn back around to look, a soft smile on your face that quickly turns into a laugh as she says “can you and rafe just not be too loud? i dont need to hear you banging.”
--
“rafe?” you whisper, stepping into his room to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, head hung low. “hey, rafe.”
“please, just go.” rafe sighs, looking up at you. thats when you see the tears in his eyes, not yet running down his cheeks, but gathering there like dew drops on grass.
“its okay.” he waves his hand. “you’re leaving me, i get it. leaving for her just like everyone else does.”
“what?” you question, shutting the door behind you and locking it.
“im not leaving you. i came back because sarah is fine. im not gonna give up what we have.” you cross quickly to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him forward, allowing his face to press into your stomach.
rafe wraps his arms around your thighs, letting out a sigh of relief as he presses a kiss against your tummy, over the sweatshirt that you’re wearing that's actually his, given to you after the sun and temperature dropped.
“come here, please.” rafe tugs at your hand as you move to straddle him, sitting on his lap as rafes mouth finds yours, lips moving over yours softly, allowing you to relax into the sweet kiss and into his body, slumping against his chest.
“i want you.” you whisper against his lips. “i want you bare. no condom.”
“baby, your birth control doesn’t start yet-”
“i dont care. ill take a plan b in the morning. i want you inside me, please rafey.” 
rafe nods quickly, he’s certainly not going to argue when he’s been waiting so long to fill you up.
“whatever you want, baby.” he’s determined in that moment to give you absolutely everything you ask for, from this point on.
rafe moves, easily picking you up to lay you on your back on the bed. his mouth captures yours and doesn’t leave it as his hands move over your body, cupping your breasts, pressing against your waist, and then disappearing under your clothes.
he only breaks the kiss to allow your sweatshirt and shirt to be removed, pulling it over your head and tossing it away. as much as rafe longs to wrap his lips around your nipple, he keeps his mouth on yours and settles for his fingers and hands to toy with your chest.
rafe works his pants off and then yours, pressing his body down as your thighs spread, wrapping your legs around his waist as he grinds into you.
“i-i need you so bad baby.” rafe hates to admit that his cock is painfully hard, straining out to have you.
“you have me.” you whisper against his lips, tugging your underwear to the side as you pull his cock out. you don’t even care to undress any further, rubbing his cock through your folds before letting go when you line him up with your entrance. 
rafe pushes in slowly, carefully, like hes giving you a chance to change your mind. when you just let out a moan, he begins to speed up. despite his thrusts being fast and hard, theres a gentleness to it, an air of romance as he takes you.
his hands travel all over your body, like hes trying to memorize every inch of you with his palms. 
you’re thankful for rafes lips against yours, swallowing your moans as you think of sarah sitting in her room, processing her best friend sleeping with her brother. the best friend that she had her first sexual experience with, now on the verge of cumming thanks to rafes cock.
“close. are you sure you want me inside?” rafe asks. you nod quickly. “please, want you to fill me up.”
“you got it baby.” rafe grunts as he moves. you feel his cock swell inside of you and your eyes widen, not used to the feeling as his cum begins to pump into you, filling you to the brim as rafe moans above you.
“you okay?” rafe asks, his chest heaving, high still working through his body, but wanting to reassure you.
“yeah.” you lean up to kiss him. “so good.”
--
“what did you tell him?” sarah asks. 
rafe walks in with a smile on his face, but it quickly drops when john b steps through the other entrance.
“that we were going on a double date, i didn’t say with who.” you giggle. “what did you tell john b?”
“just to meet me here for dinner.” sarah shrugs. your boyfriend's don't have to get along, but they at least need to be decent enough to each other to not care when you and sarah hang out.
“oh shit.” you both stand quickly from your booths, making your way over to your respected partners.
“baby-” you warn him.
“fuck no.” he crosses his arms. “im not doing on a double date with my sister and that prick.”
“yes you are. because im asking you very nicely and ill give you head in the car on the way home.” you place your hands on his chest, a pleading look in your eye as your bottom lip sticks out.
“fine.” rafe grunts out. “but im not gonna pretend to be nice to him.”
the restaurant thankfully doesn't explode into a fight, but rafe and john b barely mutter a single word, which is fine by you and sarah as you spend the entire time gossiping before parting ways. you leave with rafe while she gets into the twinkie.
“thanks for being such a good boyfriend.” you say, bending over the center console to give rafe a kiss on the cheek. “now do you want me to suck you off in the parking lot, or while you drive us home?”
“while i drive so i can fuck you as soon as we're back.” rafe grunts out.
rafe cums twice down your throat in the drive back home, but he's still not satisfied as he drags you up to his room, not even allowing you to do anything other than give rose a quick wave in form of a greeting before rushing up the stairs.
“you're lucky i love you, i wanted to punch that fucking pogue in the face.” rafe grunts out as he starts tearing away your clothing. he notices you standing completely still and stops, wondering if he pushed things too far.
“you just said you love me.” 
rafe blinks, realizing that the words did slip. “of course i love you.”
you let out a loud whine before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “you love me! my rafey baby has gone so soft, omg!”
“okay, you're being ridiculous and im trying to fuck you.” rafe rolls his eyes dramatically as you coo and pinch at his cheeks until he swats your hands away.
you allow rafe to push you back onto the bed as you stare up at him with a smile on your face. “hey.” you tap his cheek, slightly blushed red from embarrassment of letting the words slip. “i love you too.”
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bettymylove · 7 months
Text
love
pairing: theo nott x reader
content: it's smut based on this ask
a/n: sorry it took me so long to write this i have my exams going on hope you like it<33
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love
such a complex emotion they why, oh why did you feel it so easily, maybe it was theo or maybe it was just the way he loved you always knowing what you need and today was no exception.
it was just a few days before your period, hormones raging you reached class though it was an effort to do so.
that look
it was enough to kill you and in this state it was enough to push you over the edge you craved his touch right now and his eyes following your every moment wasn't helping.
and when you walked to get to your desk his hand coming up to hold your wrist to pull you back made you want to sit in his lap and take him right there.
"baby, are you okay?" his eyebrows knitted together in worry and the bell rang before you could form the words to answer him.
his eyes asked you the same question, in a silent whisper and you lied with a simple nod, how were you to convey with your eyes what even you words couldn't begin to form.
you needed but one thing and it was a simple word, theo.
finally class ended and the only solution you found for yourself was pulling theo in the nearest closet you could find.
basically clinging to him pulling him down by his collar to whisper in his ear, "I need you right now", and once again his eyes asked a silent question of 'are you sure?'.
a nod was the only form of consent your body allowed to give him and he took it as he knew your period was approaching and the state you were in right now.
"not here let's go to my room", he assured you with his voice and you found the warmth you so craved for.
you let him drag you to wherever he was taking you, thinking was a hard option in this haze, but you knew you would let him take you to hell and back happily.
finally reaching his dorm, your hands instantly went to his shirt buttons undoing them one by one slightly pushing him towards the bed until he was sitting down on the edge.
you made your way to the empty spot on his lap, hands going up to pull at his hair to pull him slightly down still a little distance evident between his lips and yours.
and reading your mind, he made the first move bringing your lips to his kissing you so passionately that you could curl up and die while kissing him.
turning you in his lap he laid you down on the bed, he knew now was the time for the soft caresses and all the time should be dedicated to you.
slowly going down he reached face to face with your cunt removing all the layers of clothing delicately until his fingers reached inside of you stretching you out and giving you the pleasure you craved.
soon his mouth joined his fingers and you cried out his name, and he grunted in response the vibrations putting your pleasure above a notch. your hands reached his hair on reflex pulling it with all your might.
and then with a chant of his name you came all over his face coating him with your juices.
"i need you inside of me" you looked at him desperate eyes and he looked back at you with the same lust filled eyes.
he kissed your neck hands slowly going to unbutton your shirt and bra his kisses started trailing down until his touch left your body and you craved for more.
he slowly removed his pants and boxers revealing his hard dick, it was red on the tip and you were definitive you wanted it inside of you.
he slowly gave in to your pleas and pushed in inside of you albeit gently so as to ease your pain and not add to it.
soft gaspy moans, light kisses and steady thrusts was all what happened until it was not too long before you hit your second orgasm.
yelling out his name you came around him clenching impossibly tight around his dick, and he couldn't help but have the same reaction hearing your moans and feeling you milk around him.
after pulling out of you he laid down your side, pulling you close, his hand going to masaage your lower stomach.
sighing you said,"what did i do deserve you?" and he replied with a simple chuckle.
3K notes · View notes
multific · 2 months
Text
Taskforce 141 When You Use Your Safe Word - Preferences 
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Warnings: SMUT, Minors DO NOT interact
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It was all beginning to be a little too much.
You knew you should stop him, but you didn't want to disappoint him. You wanted to last as long as he needed you to, you were his good girl after all.
As he said many many times.
But he also said to stop him if it gets too much, he just how much he can get lost in your pussy and how rough he can get.
So, you agreed on a simple safe word, "Red". 
It was for you to use at any given moment. No questions asked he would stop immediately.
You never imagined using it, but as he was mercilessly pounding into you, it became all too much.
You wanted it to end, you needed it to end.
"Red! Please! RED!" you said when you finally caught your breath...
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John Price
He stops immediately.
Pulling out as he turns you around, checking your face.
"Sweetgirl, are you okay? Talk to me."
"Too much." is all you could muster. And John immediately felt guilt running down his spine.
He knew the day would come when he went too far. When he would overstimulate you to the point of no return.
"Okay, let's get you into the bath, eh? A nice warm bath." he said as he ran to the bathroom and ran you a nice bath, he then ran back and got you.
Soon, he was sitting next to you on the floor, one of his arms inside the bath, in the water, making sure the temperature was perfect.
"I'm so sorry, Darling. I should have known. You started to move away from me, but I just kept going..."
"It is not your fault John, I should have stopped sooner."
"I should have known."
"It is not your fault." you moved your hand and placed it on his cheek, he turned and kissed your palm. "Make it up to me by cuddling me."
"I will never let you go. I'm truly sorry."
"This is why I have a safe word, John."
"And you were a good girl and used it." he placed a kiss on your head, and he would make sure to cuddle you until the next morning and beyond.
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Simon Riley
He would be ashamed but it would take him a second to realize what you just said, but when he does, he moves away from you immediately.
His hands would be shaking as he watched you sit up against the headboard.
"I'm so sorry." he would turn to leave, but you stopped him.
"Simon," your sweet sweet voice. So kind and innocent, he would turn to look at you. "Come back please, I'm cold." how could he ever say no to that?
He grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt, handing it to you as he put on the pants.
He moved close to you, leaning against the headboard, holding you, running his hand up and down your back.
"I'm too sore, it's why I made you stop, I think I'm just too tired."
"I'm glad you spoke up and said something." you moved and kissed his cheek.
"I love you, Simon." you tried your best to reassure him, letting him know you were okay.
"I love you too."
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Kyle Garrick
In one movement he stopped and looked at you, your back was to him but he heard you clear as day.
"It's too much, Kyle, please."
"I'm sorry, does it hurt?" he watched as you nodded and he moved back, turning you around and sitting you up in bed. "How about a shower?"
You nodded again as you slowly calmed down and your breathing evened out.
Kyle watched you closely, making sure you were okay, he even washed you up.
He then carried you to bed, laying you down.
"I'm so sorry."
"It is all good. I'm glad you stopped."
"Of course, I did! It is why I came up with a safe word for you. I'm glad you used it when it became too much." you smiled at him as he leaned down and kissed your lips. "Does it still hurt?"
"I'm more sore than hurt now." you said and he held you close. "It really is okay, Kyle."
He knew it was, and he knew it will be, he was just glad he had the presence to stop when he did.
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Johnny MacTavish
It took him a moment to realize what you just said.
"Red?" he asked with a confused tone. "Shit." he moved away from you, but still stayed close. "What is it?" he asked and if you wouldn't be so out of it, you would have realized the worry in his voice.
"It hurts, too much." you managed to say.
"How can I help?" he asked, watching your face closely.
"Just hold me, let me sleep."
"Sleep, okay got it."
He pulled you close, turning the lights off as he soon heard your soft snores.
He felt so guilty for hurting you, but he was proud you spoke up.
He spent hours in the dark, thinking and overthinking.
He thought he should have noticed, that he should have realized, but he could recall that he was too focused on the feeling, he got lost in it, and he wouldn't have seen the discomfort because he had his head in the crook of your neck.
But one thing was sure, after this, Johnny would pay extra attention to keep his control and his cool and make sure you are comfortable and you enjoy sex as much as he does.
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~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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cherryrainn · 3 months
Note
husk x child reader that committed su1cid3?
KID .
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; pairing ; husk & child! reader (platonic)
; note ; this is so sweet. i had so much fun writing this i love husk sm
; warnings ; mentions of suicide
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you wandered into the hazbin hotel one day, a lost soul in a place meant for the damned. your little form stood out, and charlie welcomed you with open arms, her kindness wrapping around you like a warm embrace.
husk watched from his perch at the bar, his usual gruff demeanor softened by the sight of you. you chatted with charlie, your innocence a stark contrast to the darkness that surrounded you.
taking a deep breath, you made your way to the bar, your heart pounding in your chest. husk stood behind the counter, his sharp gaze fixed on the array of bottles lining the shelves.
you approached him cautiously, your steps hesitant as you climbed onto the stool in front of him. the worn leather creaked under your weight, a small echo in the vast expanse of the bar.
husk glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. "whaddya want?" he grumbled, his voice rough with disinterest.
you swallowed hard, the words sticking in your throat. "can i... can i sit here?"
he shrugged. "suit yourself."
taking his cue, you settled onto the stool, your feet dangling above the floor. the silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken questions.
"what's your name?"
"husk."
"okay."
you stayed quiet for a while, until finally, you gathered the courage to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. "hi, husk."
he glanced at you, his gaze softening ever so slightly. "hey, kid."
you fidgeted with the edge of your shirt, searching for the right words. "i... i like it here. it's not so scary."
husk snorted, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "you think this place ain't scary? you got guts."
you shrugged, undeterred by his gruff demeanor. "well, it's better than where i was."
he raised an eyebrow, a silent invitation for you to continue.
"you know, living," you replied, your voice carrying a weight beyond your years.
the weight of your words lingered in the air, settling into a heavy silence. husk furrowed his brow, a subtle confusion etching across his face.
he took a sip from his drink, contemplating the depth behind your simple statement.
then, it clicked.
you killed yourself. that's how you got here.
he understood, or at least he thought he did. it all pointed to a life that had become too much to bear. husk had been around long enough to recognize the signs, even if you hadn't explicitly said it.
his gaze softened, a mixture of sympathy and understanding. he didn't pry; he didn't ask for details. some things were better left unsaid.
you decided to break the stillness that hung in the air. "soo, how'd you end up here?"
husk leaned against the counter, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "well, i didn't exactly plan on ending up here. things just... happened."
you chuckled, finding solace in the simplicity of his response. "guess we both just stumbled into this place, huh?"
he grunted, a reluctant smirk playing on his lips. "guess so, kid."
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bunnysbrainrot · 7 months
Text
But I’m Better
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Kintober prompt: Toys
Relationship: dbf!Joel Miller x fem!Reader
Content: explicit sexual scenes, praise kink, guided masturbation, dom/sub (kinda) dynamic, size kink (kinda sorta). No outbreak AU, age gap (Joel is around his mid-40’s, reader is early/mid-20’s).
Summary: When something breaks, you always know who to call. Your dresser is broken, and you’re left hopeless. But what happens when Joel finds something peculiar in your drawer?
A/N: Y’all. I am so pissed right now because i wrote so much on my drive home, and it deleted because of a bad connection. i can’t recall everything i wrote, so i did the best with what i could remember. i hope it’s up to your liking!
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“Shit,” you grumble as you stare blankly at the clothes strewn across the floor. The knob of your dresser drawer sat stupidly in your hand, the mangled wood and metal mocking you. It looked completely ruined.
You thought about messaging your dad about the repairs, but chose against it. He was never exactly notorious for making these things simple - it would be a question of ‘So how did this happen?’ or ‘How did you manage to break it?’, and it really wasn’t worth the effort for you.
The knob sat in your hand, the screw that held it in the drawer was bent to the side, and incredibly dull. No surprise there, you thought.
To be fair, it was an old ass dresser, given to you by your grandmother when you were younger. It was weird to think that you’d had this dresser for over twelve years.
You bent over the pile of clothes and hoisted the hefty drawer in line with the empty space, grunting in frustration as you tried to shimmy it in. It was settled haphazardly and tilted backwards. Completely screwed up. You took your phone from your pocket and snapped a photo of your mangled dresser, sending it to Joel.
Dresser finally gave out, I guess. Knob fell clean off when I tried to open it
Almost immediately, Joel haha reacted to the image and began to type. He was unlike any other man you’d talked to before. Joel was timely and consistent, and he was always reliable. Even if he didn’t have the time to help, he would instruct you on how to solve an issue, but typically he helped you in person.
As much as you tried to deny it, your feeling for Joel had warped over the past few years. It began as a silly childhood crush - those early days where you and your friends joked about what older men were sexiest. Your friends had given you teasing looks when you mentioned Joel, and even more shocking was how long you’d liked him. It was a simple, harmless, childhood crush.
Until it wasn’t.
You were freshly eighteen and readying yourself for college when the realization hit you. After all those years having crushes on older guys, it would be considered okay. Weird and taboo, sure, but still allowed now that you were legally an adult.
Joel had come to your graduation dinner at the end of senior year. You remembered that night in vivid detail. More particularly, Joel’s presence set your skin ablaze with a new type of anxiety. At long last, you could freely crush on Joel, except that there was now a chance he could like you, too.
That night he’d passed you a small velvet box, tied neatly with gold ribbon. You opened the box to reveal a gold, oval-shaped locket with a simple clasp. Inscribed on the face of the locket were whorled spirals, breaking off as flowers scattered over the gilded surface. Gazing up at Joel, you couldn’t contain your joy as you gave him a quick hug. He briefly wrapped an arm around you, holding you close by the small of your back.
He broke away, smiling proudly at you below him.
“You did a great job, baby girl. You keep that up in college, and you’ll get by just fine.”
You were thankful dessert had arrived in time for you to turn your attention away, hiding your rouged cheeks. Joel probably didn’t remember that night, but you remembered every little thing.
You’d done your four years of college and after the endless nights with little to no sleep and hard work, you were finally graduated, and taking a gap year before considering anything further. You worked hard, and didn’t want to burn yourself out with more school immediately.
But now you were back home, and your sights were set on something else. It was a golden opportunity to spend time with Joel - time that you’d lost by being away for so long. Holiday visits and summer break was hardly generous enough to give you any alone time with Joel. You left for college as a timid girl, developed yourself as a whole, and came back a woman. A woman who knew herself and her wants.
And you wanted him, ached for him in a way you could neither define nor justify. He was almost twice your age, a wholly developed man with his own complex past and unsteady dating life.
Mr. Miller.
He had lived in the next neighborhood over for as long as you could remember. He and your dad met about ten years back at a ‘work thing’, as they described it.
Joel was kind and endlessly generous when it came to helping others. He was the first call when something broke, and the best person to have over when times were tough, despite his sometimes-rugged personality.
You’d gotten back in town over a week ago, and since then you’d seen Joel a few times, mostly to ‘inspect’ the furniture in your room - if anything had worn down over time and needed to be replaced, the whole nine. The both of you knew it was some bullshit excuse to see him at work, with those corded muscles flexing under his tanned skin, sending shivers down your spine.
That day, the two of you had enough bravery in you to flirt. It started out lightly, you gave more emphasis on Mr. Miller, until Joel requested you call him by his first name.
“Makin’ me feel like an old man, darlin’,” he teased. You remember how he sounded saying it, with a voice as thick and sweet as molasses.
Before he’d left he’d held you by the waist, staring a little too closely at your face, watching your eyes grow wide when he leaned toward you. He fixed your hair with a gentle hand, said your name, and trailed off, his eyes never leaving your lips.
He refused to kiss you that time. Though the time after that you’d decided to break the boundary, drinking him in like someone dying of thirst. You memorized his scent, the softness of his skin and rough, eager hands across your chest, between your thighs, your throat. You both had been greedy that night. It was a high that coursed through your senses. You needed him, more than you led on.
I’ll get my toolbox, looks like it could be some old hardware. Be over in 10.
You picked up around your room in the meantime, your heart fluttering in your ribcage with each passing second. The room had become stiflingly hot. Suffocating.
A knock at your bedroom door startled you out of your anxious stupor. You reached for the door and now faced a smug Joel Miller in the doorway.
“I could’ve met you at the front door, you know,” you chastised him playfully. Joel shifted his weight of his feet, pulling something from his pocket.
“Helps that I have a house key. Means I can help you even faster.”
You rolled your eyes at him and turned on your heels without a word, striding toward your broken dresser. Joel followed casually, craning his head to look around your room, at the decorations that covered the walls and ceiling. This was no longer the bedroom of a the kid he’d met all those years ago. No, you were fully your own woman now.
“Yup, the screw’s shot to shit,” he muttered, holding out the drawer’s knob to you. “See the end of it? Shouldn’t be that dull - gotta have it replaced every now and then.”
“Do you have the right screw for it?”
He nodded, popping open his toolbox and assessing the different screws in each compartment. His hands flexed with each movement, the veins branching across them shifted with every twitch and roll of his thick fingers. Your legs clenched while the most intrusive thoughts filled your head. Specifically those hands, and what you could imagine them doing to you.
Procuring the right screw, Joel handed it to you. You looked at him in innocent confusion.
God, those eyes. If he had the chance, Joel would look into them all day, to let himself get swallowed whole by their beauty. And when you looked at him all pretty like that, as if you had no idea what you were doing to him, it drove him wild. You knew exactly what you were doing when you’d flirt with Joel, but couldn’t gauge his reciprocation, or if he was even okay with the weird ‘relationship’ you had.
It had been confusing for long enough. Someone needed to make a move, and Joel wasn’t sure if you had it in you to do it. Neither were you.
“I wanna see you try it for yourself,” he explained.
“If it’s so easy, why can’t you do it?” you quipped with a smile, but still taking the knob in your hands. Joel gave no reply and waited patiently for you to back down and do it yourself.
It was far easier than you thought. You handed it back to Joel with a proud smile. His eyes thoughtfully scanned your face before finding home in your eyes.
“Smart girl. I knew you could do it.”
Heat rushed across your cheeks like a harsh sunburn, completely taken over by the brightness in his honeyed tone and brown eyes. Joel laughed at your reaction before he worked on the drawer knob, fiddling it into place. His hands rummaged through your drawer as he worked, and paid no mind to the clothes, though you just realized. This was your underwear drawer - full of lacy underwear, bras of all varieties, and one final item you prayed you hid well enough.
Joel’s hands pushed through your panties as you held your breath. After the drawer had fallen out you’d lazily threwn everything back in the drawer and paid no mind to its organization. Since it wasn’t on the bed or the floor, by accident, you were certain that Joel would cross paths with a toy of yours.
He struck something solid amidst the clothes. The material was solid and heavy, with a bit of give from the silicone. At that moment, he could’ve left it ignored, but there was no fun in that, he thought. Joel gripped the dildo at the base, pulling out of the tangle of clothes and handed it to you, flashing you with a smirk.
“You should find a better place for this,” he drawled. “Never know who could find it.”
You quickly grabbed it from him and scanned your room for another hiding spot, but nothing came to mind. Instead you plopped it back in the drawer, on the opposite side.
“Most people don’t get to go through my underwear, so you can’t give me shit for that,” you grumbled. Joel stood, groaning at the strain on his joints. You giggle at the noise, and gave him your usual teasing, “Old man.”
Ignoring your jab, Joel leaned against the chest of drawers, arms crossed over his chest in a stare down.
His voice was dark. It had become devious, knowing, and more stern than you’d imagined.
“You use it on yourself?”
You choked on your spit harshly, not expecting his question to be so direct. Joel placed a wide hand between your shoulder blades and gave you a pat, coaxing you back to normal.
“Joel,” you pant, catching your breath, “you can’t just- just ask me that.”
“And you wouldn’t be curious if the roles were reversed, I’m sure,” he said coolly.
The redness had returned to your cheeks while you debated on your answer, but your hesitation told Joel everything he needed to know. In the smallest way, you’d let it slip that you imagine him in your free time, not that it wasn’t the same case for him. If anything, it’d been worse. Every text you’d sent him set him ablaze; at night he thought about you in detail and palmed himself through his pants, or pumped his cock in a fervent hand as he thought of you, squeezing himself inside your tight pussy. Countless nights he’d stained himself with his own seed, wishing it was inside of you instead, where it belongs. That toy should be him, it always should’ve been.
“Do you?”
You huffed and turned away from him, striding toward the bed to adjust your pillows - any sort of casual distraction from the question.
“Why do you want to know?” you countered.
Joel’s hands brushed against your hips from behind, his feather-soft fingertips brushing across the skin above your jeans. You drew in a breath as Joel whispered next to your ear.
“Because I’m a selfish old bastard, and I’m wondering what it looks like.”
“What what looks like?” you ask softly. You knew precisely what he meant but you wanted to hear something from him anyway.
He burrowed his head at the crook of your neck, gently kissing your skin up to the soft spot below your ear. His breath flew over your skin hot and heavy, sending a new wave of heat to your core.
“I want to see your face when you’re all filled up. I gotta see what your little pussy looks like when it’s all stretched out.”
You pushed your hips back flush with his to find a growing bulge trapped in his jeans. Joel rolled his hips into your ass, groaning at the constraint of the rough denim.
“Joel,” you breathed.
He mumbled against your neck, “What is it baby girl?”
Shoving your ass against his crotch, you whined, “I need you. Please… need you so badly.”
His hum rumbled against your skin, sending goosebumps rolling across your arms. A hand wound up to your hair and tugged a good handful back toward him. You gazed up at him with those beautiful glossed over eyes he dreamed about. He pictured this look on your face for a few years now, and he finally had the joy of seeing it, of causing it himself.
“Not givin’ it to you yet, baby,” he tugged once more on your hair when you whined in protest, “Gonna try something different first.”
In one movement you were facing him, finding two dark eyes staring you down, pupils both blown in lust. Joel gripped the back of your head carefully now, cradling you like something precious, something coveted. This was exactly how he saw you. You were someone to protect and take care of, and now it’s shifted to something far more intimate. Joel vowed to himself that he would make you feel every ounce of pleasure you’d been missing out on. All those nights where his hand replaced your pussy built up a frustration only you could truly fix.
Joel crashed his mouth to yours, as he’d done twice before this, and the kiss sent the same heat through your body. You clenched your thighs in a pitiful attempt to gain pressure against your swollen clit, nestled sweetly between your soft folds, soaking your underwear with your slick.
He pressed you backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed. The kiss was no short of pure ecstasy. The way his stubble scratched against your cheeks, the way his breathing grew heavy when you bit at his lower lip, the way his tongue edged into your mouth to explore every inch.
You gasped when Joel pulled away, watching him step to your dresser and draw out the dildo you’d hidden back inside. He turned to you with the toy in hand, wobbling slightly in his grip.
“‘S a pretty big one, sweetheart, you actually use all of it?” his voice was far too casual for a man holding your dildo.
You offer him half a nod, “Kind of. I’ve been trying to get… all the way in.” Joel assessed your words before he joined you on the bed, holding the toy against your stomach, at the base of your pelvis. He let out a low whistle when he saw where the toy’s length ended at your tummy, past your bellybutton.
“All of that inside you… felt pretty daring getting one so big, huh?”
That wasn’t the case and it was the most embarrassing part. The truth is, you chose the size based on your image of Joel. You didn’t even know how endowed he was, but you let your fantasy of him take over. That, and the time your hand brushed against his erection during your last kiss.
“I wanted to see if it would feel like you,” you admitted.
Joel’s eyes crinkled with his laugh, “Darlin’, a toy don’t compare to the real thing. Not really.”
You jabbed his arm at his teasing, “Listen, I’m doing the best with what I got, okay?”
“Yeah, but it’s not the best you could get, now is it?” he purred, pushing forward to plant a kiss on your neck. You shook your head, knowing he was exactly right. The toy would never really feel like the real thing.
You glanced up at him with a nervous expression, furrowing your brows, “What did you want to do?”
Joel looked at you coolly and leaned back onto his elbows. He eyed you, then the toy in his hand, then back to you.
“You gonna make it fit - take it all the way - and I’m gonna help.”
Crimson shaded your cheeks at the thought, staring nervously at the toy. Surely you were wet enough to take it, but the action of pushing further, to get it in completely, had been a challenge. In hopes to boost your bravery, you hunched over him, kissing him harshly as your hands flew to your pants. You fumbled with the waistband and slid them off of you, until you were stark naked, laid and bare before Mr. Miller.
He simply drank you in as you sat nervously in the lamplight. Joel eyed you darkly, his eyes raking from your quivering thighs, your slightly hidden sex - masked by your censoring hands, to your perk nipples atop each soft breast, and to your face, eyes half-lidded in pleasure adjoined with your soft panting.
“Jesus.”
You ducked your head sheepishly, shaking slightly to decline the compliment. Joel looked you over fondly as his hand found your cheek, brushing a thumb over your cheekbone. You glanced down at him, still giving you that goofy smirk and a excited glint in his eye.
Joel kept eye contact as his hand traveled down your body - through the valley between your breasts, down your tummy, to just above your slit, daringly close to dipping between your wet folds. You pushed yourself into your knees and knelt at his side, your aching cunt exposed to him in the dimly lit room.
He trailed his hand up each thigh, halting just before he reached your pussy. Each touch was carefully light in a way that made your whole body shudder against him. A single finger slithered up your thigh once again, finally finding its way through your slit, nestling comfortably against your clit and drawing lazy circles.
You cried out against a hand held at your mouth. Joel’s hand smelled of metal and bourbon, mixed with pine and lemongrass. He smelled smoky and fresh and completely warm against your face. You bestowed your face into his palm as he gained a rhythm on your clit, drawing out the smallest cries against his skin.
“Nice and wet for me already, darlin’, that’s good… that’s such a good girl. Drippin’ and ready.”
Another dumb nod has him chuckling while his finger skirted lightly across your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves until your stomach grew tighter.
“Gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum for me already?” His comment draws another moan from you, falling like a melody past your bitten lips, a chorus straight from heaven, just for Joel.
“It’s okay, baby doll, go ‘head. Cum for daddy,” he said sweetly, the Southern drawl thick through his words.
You unravel around him, jolting your hips as your orgasm takes over your senses. A soft cry sounds through your gritted teeth; you gently grind your hips onto the pad of his finger to ride through the shockwaves. Joel leans up to kiss your shoulder, his lips warm and supple.
“Just as beautiful as I imagined,” whispered Joel. His tongue skirts along your skin to your neck, fully sitting beside you to bore his eyes into yours.
You glanced back at him with lust-blow pupils, steadying your breath as his hand slowed its tempo. Joel gave you a lazy smile, the lamplight catching the salt-and-pepper hairs of his scruff in a soft display of his rugged features.
“Can,” you started, “you be… inside me?”
Joel’s hands found your hips and gripped snugly. The look in his eyes was nothing short of affectionate. Even still, he shook his head.
“Not tonight darlin’,” he replies, “I want you to show me how you look using this-“ he points to the dildo on his opposite side, waiting. “Since you think a toy could be so much better than me-“
“That’s not it at all,” you protest, “I needed something, Joel.”
He holds up a hand to stop you mid-sentence, “You could’ve asked me, but ya didn’t, did ya?”
You gave him a scowl, “I didn’t think this would happen, Joel.”
Ever since you hit eighteen, he wanted you to practice calling him by his first name purely out of comfortability, and since you’d grown up, it seemed more fitting.
He doesn’t reply, but his smirk grows when he brings the dildo over to you, sitting between your thighs. It was embarrassing enough with how little of the toy you could handle this far, and to do it in front of Joel seemed doubly humiliating.
Joel gives your ass a small smack to lift you up. You rise, letting him set the toy between your thighs and beneath your throbbing entrance. He cleared his throat, daring your attention back to him.
“Go at your own pace, but get it all in, sweet girl.”
All thought had left you - your only reply being in an eager nod. You started off slowly, notching the toy in at your tight hole, and slowly bounced yourself along its length. Your legs shook with each movement as you filled yourself more and more, every gyration sent shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of your being.
It took a few moments to ease yourself fully, now bouncing on the dildo’s length until it became glossy with your slick. Joel eyed you affectionately. Your face twisted in ways he couldn’t imagine, and your cunt wrapped around the toy in ways he could only dream of.
Joel patted your thigh as you bottomed out at the hilt of the toy. He pawed at your hips, kneading at the tender flesh of your ass, and pulled you into a grinding motion, setting the dildo ever deeper into your cunt. It struck a new spot deep inside of you, pushing against your cervix. A low moan fell from you as you moved your hips absentmindedly, solely following Joel’s command.
The tightness in your stomach only grew as his praises flowed through your head.
“Such an obedient lil’ thing.”
“That’s a dirty girl, gettin’ all needy like that. Wishin’ it was me in your sweet pussy, don’t you?”
“You have no idea how badly I want to fill you right now, baby doll.”
You mewled softly as another orgasm crashed through you, your hips sputtering as you ground onto the toy. Joel’s hands caressed you through your high, though he didn’t stop tugging your hips. He beamed lazily when you cried his name once again, shuddering around the toy nestled inside of you.
“Attagirl,” whispered Joel, “so fuckin’ beautiful..”
You shook your head at him like before, but he showed no signs of backing down from his stance. Joel peppered your thighs with kisses and he lifted you off the toy, listening to your whines as you were left feeling empty. His cock twitched in his jeans, eager to play.
But not yet. He needed to see this first.
“How was that, sweet girl?”
A beat of silence said every unspoken thing you’d come up with. It was good, but not mind-boggling. Not the ‘fucked til you’re dumb’ pleasure you’d expected from tonight.
Joel patted your ass, “That’s the thing. Toys… they feel nice. But-“ He plants a kiss to your cheek, then your lips, grazing over the swollen skin.
“I’m better.”
The next few minutes consisted of cleaning after yourself and settling back into your clothes. Joel fixed your hair neatly before looking you over.
“Cant stay long tonight, darlin’, gotta get back home.”
You sighed dramatically at him, to which he scoffed away the gesture. On his way out, he gave you a far more longing look - a loving, thoughtful gaze that told you one thing.
You were his. Completely and wholly. It was clear he saw you differently now, as you did him.
Joel fucking Miller.
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MDNI spacer is by cafekitsune!
hi everyone! thank you for so much incredible support on this fic!
Just FYI: Blood Flow, and Daddy’s Girl are now up as parts 2 and 3! have fun, lovelies
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johnpriceslamb · 3 months
Note
heyy is it okay if u maybe due a little story of arthur morgan?? i jus love him sm
arthur comes back to camp after a job in a bad angry mood since it didnt go to plan then the reader (being his sweetheart gf) cheers him up :(🩷 -🎀
𝓐𝓛𝓦𝓐𝓨𝓢 𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔𝓥𝓔𝓡 , ˗ˏˋ 🍓 ˎˊ˗
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˗ˏˋ꒰ The obvious annoyance which swelled in his stomach almost dies instantly when he makes eye-contact with you. ꒱ ˎˊ˗
BEFORE YOU PROCEED! ┆female ! reader . hyper-fem ! reader . Arthur Morgan is a die-for 4 his sweetheart gf . OOC ! Arthur Morgan . reader is mentioned 2 be physically shorter than character mentioned below . not proof-read . 1.0k wrdz
꒰ arthur morgan x fem ! reader . ꒱
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Muddy, wet, icky.
Sweat easily adheres to his already warm skin, rolling down the creases on his forehead and clinging to the ends of his hair. His clothes are attached to his sweat-stained skin, rusty spurrs jingling loudly with the leading sounds of water-filled boots. The sun glares down at him, taunting him even, to make his day even more miserable as it scorches the back of his neck because of the hat; lack thereof- lost from travelling back.
He’ll go find for it soon enough. Just not now.
It’s unlikely for a usual stagecoach robbery to go wrong, he’s done this many times before. Maybe he was starting to feel the effects of ageing. But somehow, things went south a bit too quickly and the man ended up in.. water. With many dead bodies floating around, and cash that wasn’t even worth it at the end.
Just thinking about that whole situation almost makes a vein pop in his head.
A grunt and a low huff escapes his chapped lips when entering the vicinity of the camp. The same water-filled boots squeak each step he took as he storms back to his bed-roll. Everyone knew he was in a bad mood, despite being far away.
Unfortunately for him, someone could not take the hint.
Miss Grimshaw.
“Mister Morgan.” She greets.
“..Miss Grimshaw.” He grunts, wiping the mud off his face just to seem less.. bearable to look at.
The older woman stares down at him for a while, sizing him up with narrowed eyes. “I’ve noticed that you haven’t been putting money in the camps communal funds for a very long time.” She prods at him.
She does not leave any room for him to reply back with just one simple glare. Arthur is smart enough to let out a low sigh and nod at her words mindlessly, not really paying attention. Said-woman sneers at him as she usually does with the others. The sight of the mud coated on his garments caused the wrinkles on her cheek to crease further, furrowing her brows in disdain.
“You should be ashamed of yourself!” She flails her arms around, “A grown man covered in crap like this—” Her hand is raised, but with a light tap on her shoulder from behind comes the reluctancy of lowering her hand down to peer whom distracted her.
A meek, soft voice from behind immediately catches his attention, “Miss? Ive finished folding your clothes.”
Her attitude does a huge spin. She’s softer now, bickering to herself before mumbling a ‘thank you, dear.’ You tell her that you’ve set it by her bed-roll, to which she nods and walks away, leaving you with the man whom seemed like he was about to burst from irritation. He swore you were some kind of angel in disguise, how you manage to make her soften up just a bit is beyond his comprehension.
His eyes land on yours. It was almost like a non-verbal way of saying ‘thank you’ from practically losing the beast.
You look up at him with those familiar beady eyes, a small smile etched on your face as you eagerly come closer to him. Almost immediately do you feel the aura he radiated- tired, exhausted, angry.. and most importantly, wants to be comforted.
“Oh, dear..” You pity him akin to a pup getting kicked. The way his muck-covered clothes wiped a bit of grime on yours is something you don’t question, “Are you—
You don’t have time to say your full sentence. He’s grabbed you by the waist and easily pulls you to his tent. A soft squeal escapes your lips at the sudden movements, eyes widening at how quick he was.
And you’re squished to his chest, practically glued to him as he wraps his arms around you. The muck is easily visible on your clean dress, but did you mind? No.
You loosen up in his tight hold, placing your chin on the curve of his neck. Your finger-nails drag up and down on his back, drawing little patterns and shapes. Despite being absolutely humid, Arthur doesn’t let that become an obstacle when being with you.
Your serenade-like voice pulls him back to reality, sleepy eyes staring down at yours.
“Was it that bad?” You unconsciously touch his growing stubble, noting to yourself to cut it later. He leans into the palm of your hand, nodding wordlessly.
“Bad don’t even manage to describe the hell I went through today.” He squishes you tighter like a stuffie. He buries his face in your shoulder, the faint scent of pinewood and cinnamon invading his nose- and gosh was it such an addicting smell. He notices the simple bow you adorned in your hair, and the little bow sewed to your top. He noticed every single thing, despite feeling like he’s about to burst.
Slowly but surely, did the irritation fade away from his stomach as he holds you closely.
“‘M sorry to hear,” You apologised, frowning at the sight of your beloved so worked up. Sometimes, he wondered how the hell you even manage to be apart of this gang, “D’ya wanna talk about it?”
He shakes his head with a low grunt, “Nah. Just wan’ be near you.”
The layers-upon-layers of light pink coloured frills covered his lap as you were plopped on him. He mindlessly fiddles with the pretty design, sighing loudly.
“‘M always here to talk to, y’know?” You press a kiss on his cheek.
“I know.” He sighs, cuddling you closely. You really were an angel.
“I don’t deserve you.” He mumbles quietly. You squint your eyes at his own comments, clearly not like it.
“You do.”
A moment of quiet and peace between the two of you, his hand affectionately squeezes yours as a way to comfort himself more than you.
Suddenly, the realisation hits you.
“..Arthur, think you ‘n’ I needa get a bath after this.”
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buccini555 · 3 months
Text
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𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲
How would they react to the news that their girlfriend ended her own life?
A n g s t H e a d c a n o n s !
𝐹𝑡. Manjiro Sano, Izana Kurokawa, Kakucho Hitto, Ran Haitani, Rindou Haitani and Baji Keisuke
Requested by: My bestie ♡
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𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨
At the exact moment he received the notice announcing that his girl was in the hospital after an attempt to take her own life, Manjiro did not hesitate to go to the place at the same time, so when he arrived at the hospital, the first thing he did was try to find out the condition of his beloved, until then, still hoping to find her well again.
As soon as he saw one of the doctors pass him in that freezing hallway, Manjiro immediately questioned how the girl was, "S-she's okay, isn't she? How is she?" Insistently, he questioned, however, the doctor only gave the news that the girl had not survived her to injuries.
At that same time, Manjiro felt as if his world was collapsing, he couldn't even believe it and for a brief moment, he still begged for that fact to be nothing more than a simple mistake, despite that, when part of him accepted what had really happened, the boy felt completely apathetic, as if some kind of emptiness took over him, after that event, Manjiro was never the same or could come back to his normal state, all he felt was guilt.
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𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚
"Baby?" He looked for his loved one in every room of that house, until he entered the bedroom and saw water running under the bathroom door, tension spread throughout his body, but he did not lack the courage to open that same door.
When faced with such a scene, Izana hurried to try to save her, even doing anything at that moment, he couldn't believe his own eyes when he saw that it was already too late, even trying to stay in hope.
Although he could still save her life, the boy burst into tears when he realized that there was nothing left that could bring his beloved back.
After that day, Izana was never the same, becoming even more closed in his own world and carrying the guilt he condemned himself for not having arrived sooner to avoid all that tragedy.
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𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨
Upon receiving the news that his loved one had just been hospitalized, the boy left everything behind, overcome by worry, he could barely think about what he would do if something bad actually happened.
When he arrived at the place, he immediately went to find out about the girl's condition, but, as soon as he learned the worst news he could receive, Kakucho just refused to accept that she hadn't resisted.
Alone, sitting in an empty corridor of a hospital, still in denial, he remained at the door of the room where his loved one was, when he cruelly realized that he would never see her alive again, he could not control his incessant crying, sitting on that floor, blaming himself for not having saved her from herself, he would definitely never be able to feel joy again, no longer caring about being alive or not, after all, after that day, the boy no longer felt anything.
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𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢
Finding his beloved's absence strange when he arrived home, something like an intuition made the heart of the tallest one feel distressed, for this reason, it didn't take him long to go up the stairs and look for her, the moment he opened the bedroom door, he saw her, but not as he wanted and then, the blood spread on the floor announced the tragedy that had occurred. "Shit... Shit!" The boy held the girl on his lap and took her to the hospital, believing that he could still save her.
Pacing insistently from side to side, Ran waited in anguish of worry, however, once he could finally be notified of the condition of his gentle girl, he could not believe that she simply had not resisted.
"She's gone... I couldn't save her, I failed." He repeated to himself sitting in one of the hospital chairs, Ran couldn't shed a tear or simply have any reaction other than blaming himself for not having made her stay, even if he had already accepted that he would never see her again, he still He refused to accept that she had left in such a cruel way, so this fact directly affected him, making him completely empty and with a coldness he had never seen before.
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𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢
"C'mon, don't do this to me, wake up, please, wake up..." Holding the girl in his arms, he did his best to try to save her and have time to take her to the hospital, but his hopes were destroyed when it happened realizing that she was leaving before his own eyes, even though he didn't want to and couldn't accept that he would lose her that night, Rindou hugged her, still trying to make her get rid of those medications, despite all his efforts, he instinctively He knew she was gone when he felt his skin turning cold.
"Baby? Baby, please, wake up!" He began to cry compulsively when he saw her leave before his eyes and in her arms she rested, Rindou just begged for her forgiveness for not having saved her and even if the girl could return to forgive him, the sameHe would carry that pain and guilt for the rest of his life and he did so, Rindou was never able to forgive himself.
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𝐁𝐚𝐣𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞
"S-she... tell me, tells me how she is, now!" Arriving at the hospital after receiving such shocking news, Baji immediately went to find out about the girl's condition, no matter how much he tried to control himself or just remain calm, he could not deny himself that he expected the worst, and when unfortunately his intuition did not made a mistake, Baji could not accept that he had lost his beloved so unexpectedly.
Sitting on the hospital floor, he just begged for it to be a mistake or a lie. "...She's fine, this...this can't be real, it's a fucking nightmare." He repeated, despite this, when he realized that it had really happened, his heart broke instantly, the pain caused by the loss of the girl being one of the worst things he could feel.
After that fact, Baji started to get into even more trouble to try to dispel all that feeling and the longing that that girl left behind, becoming a danger even to himself, Keisuke never went back to being who he was.
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cumikering · 5 months
Text
Keegan Russ x reader
3.5k | fluff, second chance, childhood friends
You matched with Keegan on Tinder
@glitterypirateduck’s holiday challenge, inspired by I Don’t Do Drugs by Doja Cat
“No way.” You shook your head. “Not Keegan goddamn Russ.” You chuckled as you stared at his profile.
It had been over 15 years since you saw him last. His teeth might have been straight, bowl cut replaced by a far more fitting fade cut, but his sharp blue eyes and easy smile remained. They were unmistakable.
This dude hadn’t crossed your mind in years, but you were pleasantly surprised to see he’d grown to be a tall and athletic Marine. You hated to admit that he got hot, even that not having a stupid haircut wasn’t a very high bar to begin with.
You zeroed in on his smile again. He was attractive and he knew it. He couldn’t have been there for anything serious.
You laughed to yourself. “What the hell,” you said and swiped right on him.
At the other end of town, Keegan laid in bed, swiping mindlessly on his phone.  Left… Left… Oh!? … Yeah, another left… Until his hand froze when he saw your card.
“Goddamn,” he muttered as he rolled to his side, clutching his phone. Where the hell were you all this time?
He took his time ogling your photos. The first one was a full body picture, your figure on display in your tight jeans. The second was a selfie, your eyes bright, donning a brilliant smile and glossy lips. The last two were group photos. He loved your style – comfortable yet tasteful. Your genuine laughter and the twinkle in your eye as you sat among your friends mesmerised him.
Okay, so you were the life of the party.
Keegan often worried about not having enough to say and preferred chattier dates who’d lead the conversation. Evidently, he didn’t have to worry about that with you…  Because you probably wouldn’t even look at him twice. With looks like that, you could have anyone.
He lied on his back and gawked at your selfie again, biting his lip.
“What the hell,” he said to himself and swiped right.
He nearly dropped his phone on his face when it chimed right away. It’s a match! He gasped.
He stared at the empty chat window, fingers drumming on his thigh as he contemplated what to say. He wished he had more game.
After a minute, he settled with a simple Hi, hope you’re doing alright :) are you from the area?
You seemed a little quiet the first day of texting, but he’d expected that, a usual occurrence in his endeavour. Keegan didn’t relent, coming up with discussions, although some he had to admit were rather lame. Soon, you asked him specific questions about himself, allowing the conversation to pour throughout the days. He stopped thinking too hard when replying.
As it turned out, you were from the same hometown. You went to different high schools, but had a few mutual friends, although none he knew anymore. He barely kept in contact with anyone back home safe for the handful of his close high school friends.
Now that he reached for his phone far more often on base, grinning at that, it took no time for people to notice the newfound habit.
“We need to tell command someone’s hardly working.” Ajax nudged Kick, nodding at Keegan at the far end of the rec room. “He keeps looking at that one selfie.”
He chuckled. “If it’s too good to be true, it probably is. Don’t get catfished, bro.”
“Or ghosted.” Ajax roared in laughter. He had no business sounding so proud of his pun.
Keegan’s eyes narrowed at them before looking back down at his phone. He wasn’t going to let his buddies stop him from sending you the What kind of bread are you? quiz.
At night, it’d also become a routine to text. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but it grew to be the highlight of his day. He could unwind and laugh with you without having to wait long to have you text back. His bed felt less empty, a little less cold.
“I’d really like to meet you. You’re wonderful,” he said longingly at his phone.
He knew he wanted to after the third day, but didn’t initiate a date in fear of moving too fast and appalling you. But after over a week, with his next deployment inching closer, he’d grown impatient and a bit mad at himself for overthinking the matter. He didn’t remember asking anyone on a date being that unnerving.
Unprompted, your name flashed across his screen, sending his heart racing. Keegan sat up and cleared his throat before answering.
“Hey,” he said with as much smoothness as he could muster.
“Hi, Keegan.”
He could hear the smile in your voice, and he prayed he had even a fraction of the effect you had on him, on you.
“I was wondering if you’re into soccer?”
His brows furrowed. Hell no, he wasn’t at all.
“You want to watch the World Cup screening with me Saturday night?”
But for you? Well for you, he was the biggest fan in town.
“Sure,” he answered immediately. He couldn’t believe his ears. Was it Christmas already?
“For dinner, there’s a taco truck I like near the sports bar, if you’d like to try.”
He tried not to smile too much, but he was failing miserably. He was two seconds away from puking out the butterflies in his stomach.
“Sounds great,” he breathed. “I’m looking forward to meeting you.”
“Me too.” Your easy voice calmed him.
Kick’s comment crossed his mind. He stilled for a moment and decided he didn’t care what you looked like. The little of you he got to know the past week was enough to get him hooked.
“Well, I only wanted to ask that. I’m going to bed.”
“So soon?”
You let out a small laugh. Oh, he wanted to stay on the phone all night.
“Talk to you again tomorrow, okay? Send me more quizzes.”
After you hung up, he bit down a silly grin as he pulled up your photos again.
The following night, struck with a sudden burst of confidence, Keegan called when you were both in bed. He’d expected the pauses on his end (which was why he always preferred texting), but you didn’t seem to mind. At least he knew you weren’t opposed to talking to him. You stayed on the line for half an hour, your laughter lulled his reeling mind.
Saturday couldn’t have come sooner. He’d shaved that morning and put on some cologne before taking way too long to pick an outfit. He hoped it didn’t look like he was trying too hard.
You declined his offer to pick you up. He didn’t take it personally - he was a patient man after all. But when he’d arrived a little too early, he started to lose his cool the longer he leaned on the streetlamp.
He had to do a double take when he caught sight of you walking towards him. Oh, look at the way you lit up, your smile the same brilliant one like in your photos. You were in those delightful jeans again, your hair bouncing to your steps. He straightened up and met you halfway.
“Hi,” you said when you got to him.
“Hey.” His smile didn’t waver. “You look great.”
You took the words out of his lips, the words that he already had so few of. This was the opposite of catfish because you were far prettier in real life. He needed you to hold his hand because he wasn’t going to look where he was going.
He couldn’t wait to brag to Kick and Ajax.
You looked up at him, eyes bright. “Thank you. You look nice yourself.”
He followed you to join the short queue. He stole a glance as you ordered.
“I’ll have what she’s having,” he said to the cook, giving your hand a gentle nudge when you tried to pay.
First skin contact. Innocent enough.
But why did it get so warm all of a sudden? He hoped he wasn’t sweating. Fuck, he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he shove them in his pockets? How close was the acceptable distance to stand next to you?
Well, he certainly stood close enough for you to catch a faint waft of his cologne.
You meant it when you said he looked good. He wore a light jacket over a black shirt, light washed jeans and sneakers. His jet black hair was styled, a little longer than in his photos. The way he stood with his hands in his pockets accentuated his build, his watch a nice touch.
Sure, curiosity got you at first. It quickly came to light that he didn’t recognise you – granted you used a nickname – but you found it amusing nonetheless. You didn’t even mean it to get that far but after talking to him, you couldn’t help but want more.
Dating was always daunting; putting your heart on the line like that rendered you vulnerable. It wasn’t that he didn’t reciprocate – his company was delightful, but whatever you had between you felt stagnant. You thought your initial assumption was right: he wasn’t looking for anything more. Was this a mistake after all?
You sat on the bench nearby, the drinks between you. You took two bites before you stalled.
Your face twisted. “Why’s this hot?”
“Is it? Mine isn’t at all.”
“It is ridiculously hot.” You blinked the tears away.
“Can’t be. Let me try.”
You handed him the taco, instead he grabbed your wrist and leaned in for a bite.
He gave you an amused smile. “It’s not hot at all. Here, I’ll have yours.”
By now, a few drops of sweat had broken out of your forehead. You didn’t question it when he swapped the paper plates on your thighs and took a huge bite.
It wasn’t supposed to be hot! This was so uncool, at your first meeting at that. Your gaze trained on the ground as you took a small bite of his which actually tasted normal. When you looked up, it was his turn to frown.
“Wait. It is.” He put the taco down. ”It is hot.”
“I told you!”
“Oh God. Oh shit,” he hissed, scrambling for his drink. “Why is it so hot?”
You stifled a giggle. “They must have put the wrong sauce in mine, because yours tastes fine.”
“My tongue had never known such pain. What the hell is in this thing?” He continued gulping down his drink. “Oh no, it’s getting worse.” He sniffled before shoving the last half into his mouth.
“You know you don’t have to eat it, right?” You busted into laughter as he chew with all his might. “Why would you do that to yourself?”
His brows knitted, the agony in his watery eyes as clear as day. You handed him a serviette.
“That’s inhumane, but I’m a man of my word,” he said between hisses, wiping at his forehead. “My mouth is on fire. I need to inhale fire extinguisher.”
You could only offer him your drink which he gladly chugged. Still giggling, you finished your meal before making your way to the bar.
“I’m sorry, that was really embarrassing.” He grimaced through his drying tears, forehead still damp. “But at least you’re laughing. I like it when you laugh.”
You wanted to kiss him right then.
Keegan was the first man to make you willingly lose sleep in a long time, but his inaction didn’t sit right with you. Self-doubt inevitably crept up - maybe you simply weren’t his type, but you were too hooked to not at least shoot your shot despite your mounting fear of rejection. Your heart lodged in your throat when you called him that night.
Oh but his voice was so calm and soothing, and what for? He got you hanging onto every word - some straight up sounded like he was purring. Like now, he had to lean in closer and closer to talk over the noise as the bar continued to fill up. The deep rumble of his laughter so close in your ear got you biting your lip.
You didn’t want to like him so much, but here you were smiling non-stop the past hour. He’d taken his jacket off, his sturdy arms on display as he lied back. Now that was the highlight of his outfit. It didn’t help that he kept looking at you like that either; blue eyes piercing, brows striking with a cool smile.
It was unfair how effortlessly charming he was, like it was simply an unfortunate by product of being Keegan Russ, like he didn’t even mean it.
Well, evidently, Keegan was literally sweating about the humiliating incident. He sincerely hoped you wouldn’t excuse yourself to the bathroom to stand him up, but the smile hadn’t left your pretty face ever since. That was a good sign right?
Halfway into the first half, he extended his arm along the back of your seat, eyes still on the screen pretending to not notice the way your lips curled in amusement. You dragged your chair against his, thighs touching now. His fist clenched when you placed your hand on his knee.
He was secretly glad this was your first date – if he could even call it that. At least there was no pressure to keep making conversation and he could focus on your company, which he thoroughly enjoyed thus far. Was wrapping his arm around your waist an appropriate next move? He itched to be closer.
“How long have you been on Tinder?” You turned to him during halftime.
“A few months now.”
“Any luck?”
He looked away, shaking his head. “I don’t get a lot of matches, and when I do - even after many weeks of talking… Well as it turned out, people just aren’t very interested in dating long distance.”
When his eyes flicked up and met your sympathetic look, he wondered if he shouldn’t have been so honest.
“You? Any luck so far?” he asked quickly.
“I went on a few dates with someone who looked an awful lot like my first crush.” You let out a small laugh. “But that’s all. It didn’t work out.”
A speck of jealousy flickered in his chest. “Tell me about him. Your first crush.”
“Well, I was a late bloomer. It was in high school, he was a sophomore when I was a freshman.”
“Handsome dude?”
“Yes, but I actually never spoke to him.” You tilted your head and smiled. “Well, I did once, kind of. I don’t know what possessed me, but one day I walked up to him and gave him a bar of chocolate. He said thanks, and that was it.”
You looked over him. The crowd had started to move towards the bar
“I’ll get us more drinks before the wait gets too long.” You stood up.
Keegan perked up; he wasn’t going to miss his chance. When you came back, he’d mustered all his courage to tug on your wrist in the direction of his parted thighs. There was a glint in your eye as you indulged and he snaked his arm behind you, hand on his knee. You had a playful smile on your lips when you moved it to your waist and wrapped your arm around his neck.
He leaned onto your shoulder, his chest pressing against your side. He watched the way your eyes transfixed on the screen, how your glass would freeze against your lower lip at times. He couldn’t help smiling when you tensed up whenever someone got close to scoring a goal. His other arm wrapped around your waist.
He hadn’t taken his eyes off you when the bar erupted in cheers. You turned to him with a proud grin. Oh, your lips were just right there. He wasn’t going to survive the night.
Your favourite team won and you left the bar beaming. You were glad he offered to walk you home because you still wanted his presence. Your fingers curled around his forearm.
“I didn’t get to ask about your first crush.”
He chuckled to himself. “We were in fifth grade.”
“You ever told her?”
He shook his head. “She hated me. My friends used to tease her about her weight. I didn’t join in but I hung around anyway. I guess when you’re young you do dumb things to fall in.”
You remembered the raucous boys he hung out with.
“Over the summer, I convinced myself to finally say something, but she’d moved away.”
Had he not looked at where you were going, he’d have seen the shock on your face. Your heart skipped a beat. Is he talking about me?
“What was she like?”
“My memory’s fuzzy now, but she had two other girlfriends they teased too but she always stood up for them. Oh, was sassy too.” He smiled. “I used to stand around to overhear her jokes. If I laughed along, she’d stare me down until I left.”
You laughed, too hard for someone who supposedly wasn’t involved in the story. You remembered that too, the way prepubescent Keegan Russ and his dumb bowl cut scrambled away when you gave him bombastic side eye.
You couldn’t believe it. He had a crush on you?
“I think had I spoken up, we’d have been good friends.” He glanced at you with a smile. “You know, when I heard she’d moved away, I came home crying and my mum smacked me upside the head. Told me not to hang around with the shithead boys anymore.”
You stopped in your tracks and took your hand off his arm. “You really don’t recognise me?”
He turned to you, brows furrowed. “What?”
“You used to paste Superman stickers on my Barbie backpack.”
Keegan’s eyes widened. He turned away, a hand over his face, laughing out of pain. No fucking way. He wanted to disappear.
You chuckled. “A new one whenever I managed to peel the previous one off. Said they were boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry. I don’t recognise you at all.” He lowered his hand. “But you don’t even have the same name?”
“It’s the internet. You’re the weird one for using your real name.”
His brows rose. “You knew it was me all along?”
“Right away.”
“And you didn’t say anything?” He shook his head. “That’s just mean.”
“Was wondering if you remembered, but we were kids. I’m not surprised you didn’t recognise me or forgot.”
The corner of his lips pulled. “Well, I didn’t forget.” And probably won’t. You haven’t left my mind the past week.
And that voice was back, of course. He definitely knew what he was doing, and still you couldn’t get enough.
“Wait, no. Is this it?” He frowned. “Did you talk to me the entire time- meet me just for this?”
“No! No. I wanted to see you.” The edge in his voice stung more than you expected. “I… I didn’t think you’d even want to, because you didn’t make a move.”
His cold eyes searched yours, making your heart ache. If only he knew how much he made you smile, how many times a day you wished he’d replied when you checked your phone. You never wanted to see that pain in his face again.
“Please don’t lead me on,” he finally said, his gaze softening. “Not when you know you don’t want this.”
You wanted to hold him. “I promise I won’t. I know it’s early to say, but I want to try.”
He took a small step towards you. “Are you sure you like me?”
Suddenly he was once again the young Keegan who couldn’t meet your eyes, asking if you wanted to share the last of his favourite chocolate with him.
“Are you?”
“Positive.” His icy blues were back on you. You saw the wary hopefulness in them.
You closed the gap, arms wrapping around his waist. You let out a small sigh as your head rested on his shoulder.
“May I see you again?” He pulled you closer, his voice lighter now. “I want to go on a date. A real one, with my first crush with the death stare.”
You laughed against his neck.
Keegan hated getting ahead of himself, not knowing how many more times his hopes could be shattered before the shards got to small to meet again. But as he held you, he let his mind drift, just a little further, just this time.
With his eyes closed, he thought that maybe in the future - perhaps soon enough, someone would be waiting at the base to welcome him back with a smile and an embrace just like this.
More Keegan: fake dating, werewolf AU
A/N: I think the song represents the uncertainty in the initial stages of falling, when you keep trying to swallow the hopefulness, cautious of each other’s intentions as to not get hurt. It takes bravery handing your heart over to a stranger, unsure if they’ll just stomp on your feelings or be the best thing ever.
@sofasoap @b1rds3ye @macravishedbymactavish @shadofireshinobi @two-gh0sts
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ghostandsoap · 1 year
Text
Every Scar Has a Story
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Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! “Gecko” Reader
Tags: Post-Smut (I’ll owe y’all one LOL). Domestic Ghost. Referenced child abuse. Past child abuse.  
Word Count: 3.0k
“What are you thinking about then?”
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A content sigh fell from Simon’s lips as he collapsed back onto the pillows on his bed. 
His grip on your waist loosened which allowed you to unstraddle him and join him on the mattress. He grinned at you as your naked body piled onto his. If he could relive this moment forever, he’d never complain. He could feel the rapid thumps of your heartbeat against his chest – a sign that you were pumped full of energy and adrenaline. The flat of one of his large hands trailed up and down the length of your back, a gentle motion as a way of relaxing you back to normal.
He had never experienced a moment more serene than the post-orgasm high. It was one he adored, and one that he loved to witness you in the middle of.
“You alright, love?” He took deep breaths in an attempt to settle his own body.
It was such a simple question, and one that he asked every time you made love. Simon knew that he wasn’t always the gentlest person on the planet, and he never wanted to unintentionally be too rough with you.
“Mmhm,” You hummed, looking up at him through glazed (yet satisfied) eyes. “Perfect.” 
That look.
It absolutely drove him wild in the best of ways. It sent a flush of warmth and desire over him every single time without fail. Simon couldn’t understand how someone as flawless and wonderful as you could ever even think of seeing him as worthy. 
He rolled you over to crash next to him, a smile appearing on his face when you giggled. He wrapped an arm around you to pull you in as close as possible, loving every second of having you pressed up against him. The two of you had “gone to bed” almost three hours ago, around 11:00 p.m. or so. You had fallen asleep within a few minutes, but Ghost (who had always struggled when it came to sleeping) stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, listening to your slow breathing as you slept. 
Ghost had gotten used to sleepless nights over the course of his life. It was when his mind was the busiest…when his mind was the loudest. He was patient on nights like this, the ones where he couldn’t mellow out enough to get some decent rest. As long as you were comfortable and safe, he could lie awake for as long as he needed to. But when you started to stir around 1:45 a.m., he couldn’t help but take the opportunity. 
It had happened a couple of times over the course of your relationship. Waking up just enough in the middle of the night to have sex and then both of you (or one of you, depending on the day) falling back asleep. He had nudged you awake when you had rustled in bed next to him, pestering you awake to kiss you as his sign of arousal. He didn’t feel too bad about waking you up. It’s not like you had ever complained about it.
“You gonna go back to sleep?” Simon asked, secretly hoping you’d stay awake with him, but not wanting you to if you wanted the rest.
“Only if you are.” 
“I don’t think that’s happening tonight, lovely.” He kissed your forehead.
“Can’t sleep?” You questioned.
“No,” He answered. “But I’m okay. Not tired.”
Simon had impeccable energy. He didn’t need sleep more often than not. It was impressive to most, envied by some. But he knew that most people wouldn’t want that trait if they knew that it was a survival skill that he had perfected over the years.
Sleeping meant being unaware. Being unaware meant being vulnerable to the world. Being vulnerable meant opening a door to danger. Simon had learned long ago that keeping that door closed was safest.
“I’m not tired either.” You sighed.
“You will be,” He returned. “Don’t wait up just for me.”
“I want to though.”
Simon’s heart did a leap. There was something so incredibly comforting about the thought of you doing something with or for him just because you wanted to.
Time at home was…bittersweet for Simon. He didn’t exactly love when he was sent home before going back out into the field again. He understood that it was necessary, not to mention mandatory. He knew that he needed some time at home, away from the hustle and bustle of Task Force 141. It was the only way to ensure that he could continue to go out with his team when they needed him. Simon Riley might’ve been a freak of nature, but even he needed his breaks.
Getting sent home meant a lot of quiet time for Simon. In years past, returning to his home front meant returning to an empty home with no one to share his space with. At certain points in his life, he would even admit that he preferred it that way. Simon wasn’t graced with complete self-isolation very often. His career didn’t exactly allow that. 
But as he got older (and maybe even just a little bit softer on the inside), the more and more he realized that flying solo isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. 
It was even harder to come home when he knew that meant being separated from you.
The first time that you and Simon were sent home to your respective stomping grounds, he severely underestimated the effect it would have on him. It was a short leave, shorter than the typical time that you were usually sent home for. He could manage a few months, no problem. Before he knew it, the two of you would be deployed back on a mission and it would be like no time had passed at all. Besides, he knew the two of you could text and call at any time. It wouldn’t be that different. 
Oh, but how wrong he was.
Almost four weeks into the three month leave, Simon was practically begging you to come see him. He had found that his apartment felt unbearably lonely, and not being able to see you whenever he wanted to was torture. He felt anxious that he couldn’t be with you in person. He didn’t care how he had to get you there, but he needed to get it done. Sure enough, you were on his doorstep two days after he called you in a near meltdown, with enough belongings packed to get you through the rest of the three month period.
Simon’s mood had drastically improved following your arrival. As a matter of fact, he didn’t realize just how worse off he was without you. Fast forward to one month after your arrival, and with one more month left before the two of you were set to return, Simon had definitely gotten used to having you around.
“What do you think Johnny’s doing right now?” Simon suddenly asked, which made you raise a brow.
“I don’t know,” You laughed. “Why do you ask?”
“He does some odd stuff on leave. I was wondering what kind of stories we’ll get to hear when we go back.” Simon clarified.
“Who knows. It’s Soap,” You snorted. “I’m not exactly thinking about Soap at the moment.”
“Oh, yeah?” He purred, his fingers running through your hair. “What are you thinking about then?”
“You.”
Simon twitched when he felt the feather-like touch of your index fingertip trailing along the bone of his collar. It tickled him, and he hadn’t been expecting it. You were lovingly caressing him, staring at him with adoration. Simon had gotten used to you doing frivolous things like that. It freaked him out in the beginning, because he wasn’t used to someone doing an act of affection just because they felt like it. 
You were following along the path of the scar that was on his collarbone. It was about three inches wide or so, and even though it had faded over time, it was still clear even in the barely lit bedroom.
“What is this one from?” You asked, propping up on your elbow to get a better look at it.
This one.
Simon almost laughed at the wording of your question. He wondered how many people were able to say that to their significant other. “This one” referred to the fact that he had multiple scars from multiple different injuries. It wasn’t conventional, but he found it amusing considering that you were in the same boat. A dangerous career meant dangerous encounters. It was impossible not to have some scars here and there. 
“I think that one was when I got stabbed by the Russian last fall,” He said. “Remember him?”
Simon also found it funny that he wasn’t even totally certain if that was how he earned that one. When someone had as many as he did, the reasons behind them sometimes blended together.
“Oh, yeah. He was a big dude.” You shuddered.
Simon chuckled. That was putting it lightly. He watched as you scanned over his frame, trying to locate another one that you were (or maybe weren’t familiar with).
In so many ways, you enjoyed his company as well. Seeing Simon in such a casual setting was new for you. It was refreshing to know that he really was like everyone else. He enjoyed watching sports games, ordering takeout, and spending a lazy day at home just like you did. 
Not to mention the major elephant in the room, Simon didn’t wear the mask at home. 
This was the longest extended period of time that you had seen him without the mask. Here and there he had put his balaclava on, but for the most part – he had been maskless. Of course you had seen him without a mask before this – but only twice. The first time had been a complete accident, and the second had been intentional in Simon’s first show of trust to you in private. 
Even though his bedroom’s only source of light was currently coming from the streets below and outside of his apartment, you could see his face as clear as ever. He was so beautifully handsome. It was amazing to you that there were so few people that knew what he looked like. You knew better than to comment on that. He never gave more than a vanilla answer to any kind of statement regarding the mask. 
But that didn’t stop you from trying.
“You’re so cute without the mask.” You hummed, finding a small scar just between his nose and the apple of his left cheek.
“Oh, don’t start with all that.” He groaned, but the pink flush in his cheeks let you know that he liked it just a teeny bit.
“Come on,” You whined. “What about this one? Did you take a knife tip to the face in a struggle?”
“That’s from the first time shaving on my own, darling,” He almost laughed. “How else would I have a scar on my face?”
“What do you mean?” You quirked your head.
“I wear the mask, my lovely. Not exactly easy to take damage to the face.”
You supposed that did make sense, and you didn’t dwell on it long.
“This one is from the fire in that shack in Mexico, right?” You pointed towards a burn scar on the skin of his right bicep.
“Yeah, because the shape is similar to the scar you have on your forearm.” He remarked. 
Instinctively, you raised your right forearm to compare the two scars. Sure enough, they were nearly the same shape and size.
“Well…mine is from a hot curling iron,” You snorted. “That’s the one that sticks out to you? Not the scar from metal shrapnel in my knee or from when I got shot in the side in France?”
“It’s the one I remember best because it looks just like mine.” He explained.
‘You know, they say soulmates have matching scars.’ Something that Simon had said to you once in passing. You had taken it as a joke, but Simon couldn’t have been more serious.
“They’re hardly the same.” You smiled.
“A burn is a burn.” He shrugged.
It was a bit of a weird game, he would admit. The two of you did this every so often, comparing scars and reminiscing on how you got them. In a way, it was therapeutic. It also reminded you to be thankful that it wasn’t the injury that made you meet your demise. 
You and Simon both shared scars from stab wounds, gunshot wounds, burns, and cuts of varying degrees. It came with the territory, and it was almost like trophy collecting at this point. The two of you had grown accustomed to them, and most of the time you didn’t even notice them anymore. 
Simon never minded letting you ogle over him in an attempt to find a mark that you hadn’t noticed before. He found it endearing, perhaps a little unfair because he knew there wasn’t a single part of you that he hadn’t noticed already.
Simon felt you examine his torso and legs, scanning over him carefully for another scar to ask about. Not a part of him went unsearched (including his face, where he greedily stole kisses when you got close). You studied his shoulders, biceps (spending a little extra time there – it had always been your favorite part of him), and elbows all the way down to his forearms. 
He didn’t think much of it. Not until he felt your fingers dance over a certain scar that sent his blood from rushing warm to ice cold. A million signals traveled through his system at once – a defense mechanism of sorts.
“What’s this one?” You touched over a mark on his forearm that was much more distinctive than the rest.
It wasn’t remarkably large. It was about the size of a dime, maybe a tad smaller. But its shape wasn’t like anything you had ever seen on yourself or anybody for that matter. It was just barely risen above the skin, and based on the goosebumps that had appeared on his arm – you knew this one was special.
“That one is…older.” He spoke, his voice lower and much more guarded.
You removed your fingers from it because even though he didn’t say it, you could tell that he didn’t like you touching it. The few times that you had accidentally hit a sore spot for him, he put this quick wall up. Identifying it had become easy for you. Pressing forward usually didn’t seem like the best idea, but ignoring it wasn’t very helpful either.
“Older…?” You asked.
“Yeah,” He nodded, voice neutral and deep. “My father smoked.”
Your eyes took another glance at it, using context clues to put the pieces together. What you knew of his father (and you would confess that it was very little) painted him to be the most evil, sinister person to ever walk the planet. Simon had divulged small details here and there, a childhood story every now and again. Needless to say, you knew that his father (and his younger days in general) were not the highlights of his life.
“Oh,” You swallowed, a queasy feeling overtaking your stomach. “I’m sorry.”
Simon’s dark brown eyes met your downcast ones at the sound of your voice being so retracted and soft. Simon could read you like a book. He didn’t want you feeling guilty for asking questions that you had no way of knowing the answer to. You were the last person that he wanted to be uncomfortable at his expense.
“Hey,” He shifted to also sit up on his elbow. “Not your fault. You didn’t know.”
What was ironic was that cigarette burn was the most minor damage left behind by his father. It was something that he could forget…and most of the time he did. The physical injuries were a blip. It was the other stuff – the more hurtful, intense, and…psychological stuff that took the hardest toll on him.
“What happened? When he…burned you?” You continued cautiously.
Simon didn’t blame you for asking questions. If it were the other way around and he knew that someone had hurt you, he’d want to know everything too. But the fact of the matter was that it was buried so far deep in his past that he hardly felt any real reason to dwell on it. Maybe it was his way of deflecting, avoiding old feelings that he never quite came to terms with.
“Darling, I…it’s not personal, I just…” He sighed, unsure of how to gently turn your question down. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
You gave an understanding nod, knowing that line wasn’t ready to be crossed.
“I just feel like I always bring up bad memories for you.” You nearly whispered.
“You don’t. Most of the time I bring it up on my own,” He assured you. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Are you sure?” You squeaked.
He gave a genuine smile, one that was usually hidden by a skull-adorned fabric. 
“Positive,” He pulled you back into his side. “After all, why focus on the past when you could focus on the future?”
“And what do you have in mind, Lieutenant?” You snickered.
He rolled over, hovering over you and trapping you between himself and the mattress.
“Something I think you’ll really go for, Gecko.” 
“Mm. Using my call sign? Must be really important.” You went on.
“Something like that.” He kissed you then, keeping you from asking any more questions on that subject.
Simon knew that with time, he’d be more willing to talk about his father. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you with that information. Quite the opposite, actually. But in a certain way, not talking about it made Simon feel like it wasn’t real. If he never brought it up, then he could keep it in the past – where it belonged. He didn’t want his past to define his future, and keeping his past alive wasn’t of any interest to him.
He wasn’t lying when he said he’d rather focus on the future. He was so much more in tune with you and continuing what you had than anything else in his life. He liked the Ghost and Gecko dynamic, and he was forever grateful for the utter joy it had brought to him. Most importantly, he was forever thankful for the love being shown to him that he had missed out on.
The love that you had shown him.
4K notes · View notes
fickleminder · 6 months
Text
be good
AU inspired by this prompt: Humans are born with demon counterparts to protect them. The more innocent and pure a person is, the more mean, fierce, and terrifying their demon becomes.
Halloween 2023 fic 😈
It’s one of the things your parents often told you when you were growing up.
"Behave yourself."
"They won’t hurt you if you’re good."
"Say please and thank you."
"It’s okay, they’re your best friend."
"Mind your manners."
"You can always rely on them to protect you."
"Be good, now."
You’ve had multiple shadows for as long as you could remember. No one else could see them; a person’s demon was their own after all, but you quickly realized that everybody around you only had the one. Any attempts to convince your family otherwise only led them to believe yours was a shapeshifter.
But one demon or seven, they never laid a finger on you. Sometimes they kept their distance, watching over you from afar; other times they stayed within arm’s reach, readily accepting your touch should your curiosity win out. You soon became accustomed to the chilly air around them, their cool skin a familiar comfort on days when you just needed a hug.
They were brothers too, despite not looking anything alike. You talked to them of course, wanting to know more about your protectors friends, where they came from, what they did to pass the time when they weren’t watching you. The oldest one told you that they weren't like the other demons; they were more important, had other roles to fulfill and duties to tend to, which was why they had to take turns looking after you.
"I'm sorry for being a bother," five-year-old you said. You'd been left alone more often than not, your father having passed away recently while your mother worked extra jobs to keep the both of you fed. She never neglected you when she was home, but you still felt like a burden to her.
"You're not a bother," the oldest one — Lucifer — chided you gently. "Your mother loves you, and so do we. Never forget that, understand?"
You gripped his pant leg and nodded into his thigh, only relaxing when a gloved hand reached down to stroke your hair.
.
.
.
The wind howled outside your window and rattled the panes. Cloudy skies covered the moon, casting your room into inky blackness as you huddled under the blankets and shivered, eyes wide open and unable to sleep.
Everything seemed louder in the dark: the shrieking gusts, the creaky old floorboards, the scuttles in the walls, the scratching and rustling behind your closet door—
"It's way past your bedtime, you know."
The voice came out of nowhere, but all you felt was a sharp sense of relief knowing that you weren't alone tonight. "I'm scared," you whispered to it, clutching the sheets tighter against your body. "Can you check the closet for monsters, please?"
One of the shadows in the room seemed to grow and stretch, moving lazily towards the closet in question. You didn't dare to peek over the blankets, but you heard the door open and close as the faint noises from within fell blessedly silent.
"Better?" The voice drawled, returning to its place under your bed. "Go to sleep now. There's nothing scarier here than me."
"Thanks Belphie. Goodnight."
You let one arm dangle off the side of your bed as you finally closed your eyes. After a while, you felt a cold hand grasping yours, keeping you safe in its grip.
.
.
.
"I said I was sorry!"
"You think a simple 'sorry' is gonna cut it?!"
Bumping into other students in a crowded hallway was almost inevitable, but apparently this upperclassman took personal offense at it. The older boy hauled you up by your shirt and slammed you against the lockers while everybody else kept their heads low and gave the two of you a wide berth.
"I oughta teach you a lesson for—" He looked over his shoulder at someone you couldn't see, frowning with irritation. "Whaddya mean 'wrong person'? This twerp was the one who—"
Whatever his demon said must have convinced him, because he abruptly let go and stomped away without another word. Your knees buckled and you slid to the floor with a breathy exhale.
Someone squatted down beside you to check the back of your head, running gentle fingers through your hair to soothe you. "Are you hurt?"
"No, I was more startled than anything." You smiled at Satan, who still seemed somewhat troubled. "Can you walk me to my next class?"
"With pleasure."
That night, Satan got Asmo to read to you on his behalf, claiming he had a last minute errand to run. You didn't mind; Asmo had such a melodic voice that he might as well have sung you to sleep.
(You never saw that upperclassman in school again. People still said he transferred out.)
.
.
.
The day your mother passed, you were sitting next to her and holding her hand, doing your best to ignore the beeping of the machines that monitored her vitals.
One minute she was peaceful, halfway dozed off while you spoke to her softly, the next her entire body seized up as she began mumbling incoherently.
The machines went haywire and alerted the nurses to her side. You were forced to step back and let them do their job, your panicked gaze focused on her fearful face as she writhed on the bed, as though struggling to get away from an assailant.
"No, no... I thought... Please..." were the last words you heard before someone wrapped their arms around you and turned you away.
"Don't look," Asmo cooed in your ear, moments before the shrill beeping noises became steady.
The demon guided you to sit in the hallway outside, whispering words of comfort and rubbing your back. He told you to remember how pretty your mother was before her illness, the good times you'd spent with her after all the hardship the two of you had endured, happy memories that made every second worth it.
You knew your demons would help you to work through the grief in time, but for now, you let yourself fall apart in Asmo's arms.
.
.
.
"Take care on your way home."
"Thanks boss, see you tomorrow."
Closing shifts sucked, but the late hours paid well. Luckily, you had company on your walk back too, a hulking figure no one else could see but everybody still instinctively steered clear of. It made taking shortcuts through shady alleys a little safer.
Even on nights you stopped for supper at a sleazy diner, the only place still open at this godforsaken hour, nobody invited themselves into your booth or tried to strike up conversation with you. Which worked just fine, all you wanted to do was eat your food, go home, and collapse into bed.
Strangely enough, you noticed that the cook also tended to be extra generous with the portions he served you. The man was loud and gruff towards the waitstaff, but on nights you were seated at the counter, he was quiet as a mouse when setting your dish in front of you.
You could never finish it all, but you always made sure to leave a good tip anyway.
.
.
.
You stared at the numbers on the screen for the longest time, feeling conflicted. A part of you wished you had never approached your coworker to ask about the discrepancies you'd found in the accounts, not when he opened your eyes to some of the dealings that went under your boss's radar. He offered you a cut of the profits to keep your mouth shut of course, but you never imagined...
He was a good guy. Hardworking, funny, always willing to pitch in and offering to pick up a bite for you whenever he went on snack runs. You knew he went to church regularly too, so why?
A bat-like wing blocked your view of the screen, and you looked up to see Mammon smirking. "You're overthinking this," he said. "The answer's right in front of ya."
"I thought..." You bit your lip. "He isn't doing too well himself, and the company isn't a megacorp or anything but it's not like they'll notice. Shouldn't I just look the other way?"
"Ha! What he's offering ya is peanuts compared to the promotion you'll get by exposing his operation."
"I'm not in it for the money—"
"Maybe so, but it's the right thing to do, ain't it?"
"Still..."
"You won't have to worry about any retaliation." Mammon assured you with a ruffle of your hair. "I'll make sure of it."
.
.
.
"—lie! It's all a lie! Listen to me, you can't trust the devils!"
"What nonsense are you watching now?" Levi leaned over your shoulder as you tilted your phone to give him a better view.
"A video that went viral recently. Some crazy dude ranting about conspiracies and whatnot."
Levi's nose scrunched up in distaste. "Sounds like he's jealous about having a wimpy lesser demon chained to him, if you ask me. These guys are just bitter they got leftovers since they aren't good people."
"I don't know, Levi. Some folks just need a bit of help, I think. And don't get me started on the whole nature vs. nurture debate."
"Well, doesn't change the fact that you can't save everybody."
"They're cultivating us, like livestock! You have to sin, SIN I say!"
"Ugh, I've had enough of this dude. Can you change the channel? We haven’t watched the latest episode about that time-traveling god yet.”
"Ooh, you’re right! Give me a sec to log into my account…"
.
.
.
Lucifer hummed in amusement. "Excuse me?"
"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend." You scrambled to clarify your earlier statement. "It's just— I've known you and your brothers for so long that you don't look scary to me, not anymore. I'm not saying you guys should be monsters or anything, but... Does this mean I'm a bad person?"
"Demons have many forms not meant for mortal eyes," he explained patiently. "And you should know that humans are neither fully good nor bad, but often somewhere in-between. In any case, why would we ever wish to frighten you, hm?"
"Told you it was a silly question..." You grumbled under your breath.
Lucifer squeezed your shoulder. "You’re a good person. You always try your best to do the right thing, even without our guidance to keep you from going astray. I don't say this lightly: I’m proud of you."
You hid your warm cheeks in the demon's chest as you hugged him for all you were worth. "...Thanks Luci."
"Anytime. Now, off you go. Don't keep Beel waiting."
Lucifer watched as his younger brother filled the empty space next to you, holding your hand while walking you home. The hour was late and the streets were dark; it wouldn't do to have anything unsavory happen to you before you made it home safely.
Yes, they needed to keep you safe at all costs. A pure and innocent being like you was hard to come by, perhaps only once every millennia or so. He and his brothers had fought for the right to you, to nurture and polish your soul for when the time was right. And when it was, you would be—
"Delicious," Lucifer whispered, baring his fangs as he licked his lips.
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chaoticbardlady99 · 6 months
Text
I Don't Wanna Be Your Friend (Astarion x GN! Reader)
  This man has a chokehold on me and I have been plagued by this idea for about a week.
Title inspired by the song "i wanna be your girlfriend" by girl in red
CW: Mentions of violence and gore (not descriptive), bit of angst, comfort
(Not my photo. I believe it belongs to Daily Gaming)
Synopsis- You and Astarion are in the middle of a war to prove who can set the best traps. However, a lack of rules seems to have gotten you into a predicament neither one of you had anticipated.
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Sometimes you take it a smidge too far. 
 You would love to tell people you are some cunning, daring rogue, but the reality is that you are consistently flying by the seat of your pants. Occasionally it works really well- this was not one of those times.
    You never felt the need to prove anything to anyone.
Well, until you met Astarion. Within the first three days of traveling with him, your confidence and patience began to wear thin. He would make snide comments when watching you attempt to unlock a chest or when you scare off your prey by tripping over a bush. Then he would smirk at you- with that stupid, beautiful smirk.
He enjoys adding salt to the wound by taking on the task you failed at; usually lock picking, sneak attacks, and Gods only knows what else he could make fun of you for. You are very aware that you are not some fancy rogue and it never bothered you until now. You had accepted long ago that you are just a street urchin moving up in the world after teaching yourself the trade.
  The final straw had been when you had placed traps to catch dinner. Your traps had been successful (naturally- traps were your thing) and you brought back three bunnies for Gale’s stew.
Oh, but of course Astarion had something to say. He always has something to say.
  “Oh look at that- how cute. I’m sure sheerluck was on your side,” he quips, “You’ll get better eventually.”
 Thus began the war of all wars.
It started with small traps- nuisances really. Tripwire, a laughing or sleep rune well hidden, and traps that release horrible smells. Then it quickly took a turn for the worst; what were once harmless pranks turned into trip wires that release a swarm of bees, simple pits began to get deeper, and blasting traps that would send either one of you flying into a nearby object. It was never truly life threatening, just questionable.
  Well, except for the bees. The bees were not the greatest thought in hindsight; considering both you and Astarion had to help each other with the bee stings- Shadowheart refusing to be involved. You both laughed and he even complimented you on your cleverness. You swore you could have exploded in that moment.
   You have a massive, childish crush on the man and maybe the competition was your subconscious way of getting closer to him. However, your other companions were getting sick of it pretty quickly. 
  They had all hoped after the Tiefling party that the two of you would put your silly competition to rest so that you could all travel together in peace and they would just have to deal with PDA.
What a silly thing for them to think. PDA hasn't happened, but the pranks did become less risky and less frequent.  You were okay with this change.
   You feel like you and Astarion have become close friends. Even though your tryst didn’t lead to a romantic relationship as you had hoped, you were happy to have Astarion in your life in any capacity. If that was just as a friend- then so be it. 
  Which brings us back to the beginning- when you realize that your ‘trap war’ had paper thin rules and the lack of rules just might be the thing that actually kills you on this journey.
  All you wanted to do was clean yourself off. It had been one last relaxing day before you set off to the Creche, but you had thought you might treat yourself. Baths were rare and far between these days and you want to enjoy it while you have it. However, you were not planning for a simple snare trap to foil your entire evening. 
  You get hoisted up into the air, slammed against the tree, and drop all of your belongings- including the knife you brought ‘just incase’. You glared at the knife and put your hand to your blood fountain of a nose.
 “Traitor,” you whisper with a pout as you look for a way to escape the trap.
  Suddenly, you freeze as instincts kick in. You hear the Gnolls before you see them. Your bloody nose from the impact of the tree had led them to you. They attempt to claw at you- trying to rip you down from the tree. You feel their claws tear into your back, the side of your arms, and one of them even manages to take a swipe at your abdomen as you scramble to escape. The cuts weren't life threatening, but they hurt. A LOT.
  You manage to use the rope to pull yourself up onto one of the tree limbs; allowing you to hide some of your body from the Gnolls, but you now have an arrow protruding out of your right thigh so obviously that isn’t working well either.
  You bite back tears, frozen in fear. You really did not want to die this way and you certainly didn’t want it to be because of Astarion’s trap. You have a feeling he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if you died because of him. 
  You can imagine the blame and anger the rest of your companions would direct at him if the worst happened. You imagine the bloodshed- knowing full well that everyone (minus Karlach) would not forgive him for accidentally killing you. Lae’zel would be the first one to put a stake in his chest- her fondness for you is no secret. 
   Your heart thumps painfully at that thought and your resolve hardens. You will not die because you will not let that happen to Astarion. 
 You look around, your arms and legs shaking still with the residual shock and fear. You look for any sharp branches, a forgotten knife lodged somewhere, or even something you could cast a cantrip on to distract them. You have no such luck. 
 You resign yourself to your fate- the tears making a reappearance. 
 Unless one of your companions finds you first- you are going to either have to wait for the Gnolls to get bored and leave or they are going to kill you.
You pray to every God you can think of that you will survive the night.
_________________________________________________
 Astarion is trying to not look so desperate as he reads the first page for the hundredth time. 
  You had walked off a little over two hours ago- Lae’zel is on watch while the rest of your companions sleep soundly in their bed rolls. 
 The longer your bedroll remains empty, the more the pit grows in his stomach.
He didn’t know how to navigate your relationship after the tiefling party.
His feelings for you are confusing. The sex had felt different, he enjoys your company immensely, and he likes how warm he feels around you.
Instead of talking to you like a normal person or taking a moment to reflect, he decided to find some common ground- something you could laugh and talk about later. Normalcy.
He set up a snare trap close to the river you were all using to clean off and then a laughter rune trap somewhere on the path to the Creche. Hypothetically, they are very safe traps.
Unless he rigged them wrong? What if you ran into one of them and….
  No, I am sure they are just fine.
 He doesn’t even believe his own lie.
After about another five minutes, the anxiety rolling in his stomach becomes unbearable so he grabs his daggers and sets off in the direction you had gone two hours earlier.
  He walks quickly through the forest, checking his surroundings and looking for evidence that you were close by. As the minutes pass, he feels the hope of finding you safe shrink.
The wind hits his nose and he becomes stock-still.
He smells your blood- an alarming amount of it-in the air as he gets closer to the river. He fears the worst as he goes to look at the trap- hoping you will forgive him- that you are alive. Safe.
 He peers through the bushes and his eyes grow wide as the scene before him unfolds. 
  You are stuck up in the tree- his trap is still around your ankle. You are holding onto the branch like your life depends on it. It probably does since there are five Gnolls circling the tree like vultures.
  He can hear your soft broken sobs as arrows fly over you or hit the tree. He notices the arrow in your leg and watches as a second one lodges itself into your calf. You wince and close your eyes tightly- unknown to you that Astarion’s vision is clouded in red and his whole body fills with destructive, hot rage. He also feels fear, but he pushes it away, not ready to explore the why. 
  He lunges forward, slashing at the Gnolls with so much force that they are practically in half by the time they hit the forest floor. He is a man possessed as he carves his way through all five gnolls and then he climbs up the tree to you. 
His chest aches as he looks at you. He will never be able to forgive himself for causing you so much suffering.
  “Darling,” he says softly.
    You whimper in response and when you look at him- he feels all the air leave his lunges. If he needed air, he would have passed out right then. Your eyes were glassy with traces of fear, sadness, and loneliness- all emotions he is all too familiar with. Then you see it’s him and the biggest smile crosses your lips and you look at him with so much affection he almost feels ill. This was not the plan and he almost made you a midnight snack for a group of Gnolls.
  “You found me,” you say in a raspy, raw voice, “I thought I was going to be stuck here all night until Karlach or Gale found me. Or I was going to die.”
 You chuckle, but Astarion can’t get himself to share your same enthusiasm about his rescue mission as he cuts the rope. 
  He helps you down the tree and safely back on the ground. Astarion winces as you pull the arrows out of your leg. You find a healing potion amongst your things and chug it.
He collects your stuff for you. You give him another one of those brilliant smiles and Astarion tries to smile just as brightly back. You furrow your brows, but he turns away before you can keep analyzing him. 
  “We should head back,” Astarion mumbles.
______________________________________________
  The silence hangs in the air as Astarion walks with you back to camp. After about 15 minutes, you are back at camp and the tension in the air is suffocating.
 “Astarion.”
  Astarion freezes, turns on his heels, and looks everywhere but your eyes. He couldn’t bare to see you smile at him again- look at him like that again- not after he almost killed you.
  You maneuver yourself so you are looking in his eyes.
 “It’s not your fault,” he begins to protest when you shush him, “we didn’t set any rules and the trap itself was harmless. We didn't account for Gnolls when we started this whole thing.”
  “I almost got you killed.”
 “But you didn’t. It easily could have been you in that situation and me saving you.”
  “Will you please stop being so Gods damn forgiving,” he huffs with exasperation as he feels tears prick his eyes, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I put your life in danger. I almost-”
 Lost you. He chokes on the words. The fear from earlier begins to come back to the front of his mind. Watching you cling to that tree, crying, and in pain had made him realize that you just might be more important to him than he cares to admit. However, that’s a conversation for another time- once he sorts out what that feeling in his chest is whenever he looks at you.
  You look at him sharply, your eyes raw with sadness, “Stop that right now. I am okay. I lived. It was a mistake and I know your intentions were not bad. You don’t have anything to worry about Star.” 
He doesn’t say anything and you hang your head.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I- I should go-“ Astarion pauses as you interrupt him.
“Please don’t leave,” you whisper, “I rather enjoy your company.”
  You look at him with tears welling in your eyes. He stares at you in stunned silence, searching your face for any sign of deception, but he doesn't find it. His body moves before his brain can process what he is doing. 
 Astarion gently cradles your face in his hands and kisses you slowly, softly. He smiles despite himself when a gasp leaves your lips. You're alive and safe. When the warmth in his chest begins to spread throughout the rest of his body, he pulls away and steps back. Your face is flushed, a beautiful blush spreading across your cheeks. You look at him with wide, unblinking eyes before you shyly smile. Astarion could have melted in that moment. He finds himself smiling too.
 “Well I’m assuming that means you are going to stay?” 
  “I suppose I’ll stay,” he says while tapping his chin, “you do need someone to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble like that again.”
 You feign hurt and scoff, “Are you suggesting that this was my fault?”
 “Maybe if you were better with traps that wouldn’t have happened,” Astarion teases.
  You narrow your eyes at Astarion and you try to hold back a smile. You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him.
You start towards camp before you pause and turn around. Astarion gives you a confused look.
You run over to him and place a kiss on his cheek. He tenses for a moment before relaxing again. You look at him sweetly, a soft smile on your lips.
 “Good night Astarion.”
  As you saunter towards your respective tents, Astarion takes one last glance at your tent- at you- before he lays down with his book. Except he still can’t get past the first page- he is too anxious for the sun to come up so that he can see your smile again.
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queenimmadolla · 7 months
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Maybe could you write a dad Eddie x reader fic where penny wants to have a baby of her own so she can be a mom like reader
You were cuddled up to Eddie’s side on the couch, your toddler playing with her toys on the floor and your newborn curled in your arms, his face nuzzled against your bare breast as he nursed.
  The TV was on, but you and Eddie had long forgone your horror and dark fantasy movies for child friendly films and shows like Sesame Street, which was currently displayed on the screen. It was far from your favorite thing to watch, for either of you, your daughter was entranced with reruns of the show, and had a special love for Kermit and Elmo.
  “I’m telling you, there is no way they’re just roommates.” Eddie remarked with a scoff, during the Bert and Ernie segment.
  “They so are! I mean, the romantic tension is obviously present but neither has acted on it yet. Ernie’s too oblivious to do anything about it, probably thinks it’s only one-sided, and if Ernie’s not showing his interest, Bert’s not gonna make a move.” You countered, sinking further into Eddie’s side. His arm was around your shoulders, hand stroking along your forearm before latching onto his son’s tiny sock covered toes and giving them a gentle wiggle to which baby Wayne curled his feet further into his body, depriving his father of access to his toes. It didn’t distract the little glutton from the task at hand, your baby just mouthed a little at your nipple, head moving around until it was in place before latching once more.
  Eddie chuckled at that, watching with affection as his baby continued to stare up at you with wide eyes while he nursed, before his gaze moved back to the characters in question.
  “Sweetheart, they are clearly in a domestic partnership, they’ve just grown very comfortable around each other. We don’t need to see their affection to know they’re in a relationship.”
  “They sleep in separate beds, Eds.”
  “Okay, you got me there.”
  Penny chose then to get up from the floor, rushing over with the baby doll you’d gotten for her when you’d told her you were pregnant. She leaned against Eddie’s leg, resting her head on his thigh and letting him stroke over her curls before she pushed herself up and held the doll out to you.
  “Is that your baby doll?” You asked, assuming she was trying to show it off and she nodded, continuing to extend it and you realized she was trying to give it to you.
  “Hew you go, mama.”
  You made sure your actual baby was secure against you, glancing down to meet his unwavering stare as he ate, satisfied grunts sounding from him every so often, before you took the doll into your free hand, “Oh, you want me to hold…her?”
  You didn’t know what gender it was supposed to be, you’d heard Penny change it constantly.
  “Uh huh!” She nodded, grabbing onto Eddie’s knee and using it to sway back and forth. Sounded simple enough, you could play along, “She’s hungwy.”
  “You want to hand me her bottle then?” You could see the toy baby bottle, it had come included with, on the floor where Penny had previously been playing.
  “No, you has to feed the babies.” Penny released her dad’s knee to poke at her chest with both index fingers. “Fom wight hew.”
  You could hear and feel Eddie choke beside you, trying to muffle his laughter as you realized your toddler wanted you to breastfeed her doll.
  “Oh. Um.” You tried to think of a way to get out of it, casting Eddie a glare when you caught sight of his wide smirk from your peripheral vision. “Brother is eating right now.”
  “Udda one.” She pointed at your freed up, covered boob rather than the one your son’s wispy curl covered head was blocking for her.
  Damn it, Penny was beginning to become too self aware.
  Reluctantly, and very awkwardly, you held the baby doll’s plastic head against your other breast as Eddie literally started shaking against you. He might as well have just laughed outright with all the wheezing he was doing. Even Penny was casting him a few side-eyes.
  You turned your head towards him, eyes narrowing as Eddie continued to try to muffle his amusement behind a fist, face turning red with his effort but not even his fist was large enough to conceal the grin at your expense.
  Penny, however, looked like the cat who got the cream, happy you were once again complying with her demands. 
  You thought you’d be able to put the doll down once she went back to the toys, no luck, she’d apparently come over with the intention of watching you ‘feed’ her baby. So for like seven entire awkward minutes, you held the doll to your boob, its plastic face pressed against it, while she stared at you and Eddie suffocated on his amusement. The reason he didn’t just openly laugh at you was because he knew Penny would get mad at him. He could tell this wasn’t a game to her and if he laughed at something she didn’t intend to be funny, he’d have an angry toddler on his hands.
  Then you’d be the one laughing. 
  Mercifully, Penny eventually grew bored of watching you and reached up for the doll, which you were all too happy to give back. “You want to burp her?”
  The answer to that was no. Penny adjusted the baby doll in her hands until its face was smashed to her chest. It was half her size, but her motive was clear as she beamed up at you.
  She was imitating you.
  “Look! I A MAMA, LIKE MAMA!”
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