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yandere-kokeshi · 2 months

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How would TF141+Konig,Nikolai react if their reader drunk and told them about how reader family used to sold reader at brotherel.

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about prostitution, mention of trauma, and foreshadowing on murdering.

A/N: Definitely took my time writing this, so I hope you enjoy it!

Captain “Price” John:

Whiplashes at you, nearly breaking his neck as he places his cold-glass down on the table.

“Sorry, what?”

He’s pissed. He cannot fathom why anyone could possibly do something so awful to his sweet darling, but he’s heartbroken, too. His heart shatters when you explain it, going into detail of what happened. And soon, John’s hands find themselves on yours within a heartbeat, thumbs grazing over your knuckles, and squeezes them occasionally.

If you blow it off, saying it’s no biggie, John gets angrier. It’s not fine, and his tone is firm, and large hands that’s on top of yours aren’t letting go. And soon, he softens — bringing you into his lap, kissing the crown of your head. Hands running up and down your back, whispering to you of how special you are.

And soon enough, later that night when you’re sleeping, his mind is wide-awake and angered. Wondering if your family is worthwhile to get a visit, teach ‘em a lesson or two.

From now on, John is so gentle with you; checking in with you first and won’t push you for anything. He even suggests therapy, or perhaps couple-therapy, to help you in some way. He wants you to know he’s here for you, as that’s all you have.

Your parents are nowhere to be seen. The news has reported them missing, and it’s weird that John had come home after an hour when their bodies had been found, right?

—

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

Whiplashes so hard, his neck popped as he looked at you. The cheap beer that you and him were drinking is set down, the loud clanking making the silence even louder, and his brown-doe eyes are staring at you.

“You bein’ serious?”

Simon is fuming, absolutely seething with rage at how they used and hurt you. And he’s extremely tempted to find all of them and break every single bone in their miserable body. How on the earth could they hurt and betray you, you, the literal light in his life like that?

“Love, you can’t jus’ drop a bomb like that and expect me to be all natural with it,” His tone seethed. He tries to soften it, he really does, but his rage with what you’ve just told him is starting to seep through the built-in cracks. And it’s clearly showing his not-so pretty side.

But as soon as he sees your face, his heart re-breaks all over again. And within seconds, he pulls you into his arms, whispering sweet words of love and promises of safety; kissing every part he can reach until you tell him to stop.

If you haven’t already cut ties with your family, Simon immediately does it for you — anger shown and his tone sharp. He removes them from any way possible of how they could connect to you, even going as far to put a restraining order against them. But, if they decide to be snide, and try to take you back? Simon is more than happy to use his physical strength to scare them away.

—

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:

He laughs uncomfortably, before he really thinks and chews on the words a little more. His eyebrows crease against each other, fingers tightening around the beer bottle, as he looks at you very concerned.

“Wait– what was that?”

Kyle watches you go on, rambling about it as if it’s not a big deal, and he’s in pure shock. He’s not sure if you’re putting a brave face on, or if it’s the alcohol, but either way, it’s making him mad. His hands are shaking, his heart thundering in his chest, mind going a mile a minute, trying to understand the concept, but he can’t seem to get past the anger part.

“Baby… when did this happen?” he generally questions, uncomfortably shifting in his seat as he looks for something in you. He’s worrying. Wonder what it’s done to you, someone he loves so deeply, and he can’t fathom the idea that something so horrific happened to you.

Within seconds, he apologizes. Brown eyes looking at yours, barely forming tears. He’s pulling you into a tight hug, holding you deeply, and finding a way to blame himself. If he’d known you sooner, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. He could’ve protected you.

But, that doesn’t help the situation — so he focuses on you, helping you through things and ensuring you’ll be safe. Because you’ll always be with him.

Kyle tries to help you in every shape and form, making sure your boundaries are set and that he follows them knee-deep. And that, of course, your family doesn’t come near you. If they try to push through the cracks, he’s immediately acting viciously. And it’s not pretty.

—

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:

He chokes on his drink, coughing up a storm. Hitting him like a ton of bricks, and somehow, you look at him like he’s the one who said some type of sex joke at the wrong time.

“I– beg your pardon?”

He’s right in the same area with Ghost, furious in many aspects. His face shows it. His body language, and thick voice. When you’re describing the multiple incidents, it just makes him want to track down your family and rip them in two.

Comfort is immediately given, Johnny’s arms find yours within seconds, and you’re brought into a cuddle session — one where he kisses every part, and promises that you’ll never have to face them again. He looks at you, blue eyes just admiring you before kissing your cheek, “Nobody will hurt ya’ again, swear on my and ma’s life, sweets.”

And he goes with it. Days pass, and he’s still thinking about it. He sees you so strongly, and how you’re able to go about your day and act as if it’s normal; his heart beats faster at your sewn thoughts of even crying.

Without saying, Johnny despises your family. A bitter emotion that can be easily shown if you bring them up into a conversation. His hands crunch in remembrance of their scared face, and you won’t be seeing them anymore. You can’t.

—

König:

He just looks at you, seemingly going deeper into your soul. Which, of course, creeps you out. König watches you explain, with a flushed look, and he’s tasting iron in his mouth from how hard he’s biting his cheek.

“Hase, what’d you say?”

He just keeps staring at you. And he doesn’t want you to think he’s angry at you, because he’s not — never in a million years, but it’s devastating to him. How could someone, a family that you’re supposed to trust, do that to you?

“König?” your voice brings him out of his deep thoughts, bloody thoughts, and he just looks at you before bringing you into his chest; a man, so large and beefy, has a voice so little and fragile, that you could barely hear it. He sighs, “Why did you hide it? I’d much rather you talk to me, okay?”

He’s obviously affected, but not as much as you are. He’s in a state of disbelief, and the fact you just blurted it out, whilst in a vulnerable state, makes him sick.

He’s unbelievably more clingy the next few days, ensuring you know your own worth and how strong you are. Everywhere you go, he’s touching you — smoothing the wrinkles in your clothes as his hands crawl underneath the fabric. Kissing you and nearly suffocating you with his weight.

As for your family, he ignores and diverts the questions of them into a different conversation. He doesn’t want to scare you, but with the things he’s done, König is certain you’d be smart to connect the dots.

—

Nikolai:

Not a single laugh, or fun look comes from Nikolai. He’s immediately concerned, the shot glass being put down as he really looks at you, biting his lip.

“Think that’s enough alcohol, Lyubimyy. Why don’t we head to bed, hm?”

He doesn’t necessarily react — but more so tries to make you sidetrack so you two can focus on something else. Until, the next morning, is where he re-brings it up and asks. He’s concerned, dark eyes showing sadness that’s covered by anger. But your feelings matter. They will always come first. And when he sees your reaction, Nikolai quickly understands, “We can talk whenever you’re ready, mkay lovey?”

Nikolai comforts you with the best of his abilities, ensuring that you’re not a burden. You’re the complete opposite, and you’re so strong. His hugs become deeper, kisses become longer and more intimate.

And the gifts he brings home, even to the grocery store, are enormous. His sly smile as he carries them in definitely takes your head off some things, no?

Your parents are immediately cut out of your life. Nikolai has secrets of his own, and once in a while, he has to take out the dirty trash, right? Before he leaves for the day, a mission needed for Laswell, he promises to be back before 5 PM; and he does, arriving all giddy and flirty. But his hands seem a bit too warm, a bit odd.

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cordeliawhohung · 3 months

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Yk what I think would be interesting? Simons shy!reader getting angry and Simon watching it unfold. I feel as though it's really hard to make reader angry cuz of her anxiety but there's always something. Like something happens and Simon goes to defend reader but shy!reader hops up and is like "excuse the hell out of me?" And then Simon watches her all proud of his girl and maybe rewards her :)))) you don't have to do it if you don't want to, obvi, but I still think it would be interesting yk? (this got so long lol)

see, i think shy!Reader has the type of anxiety that gets trumped by someone else with anxiety. like i do not think the girl is able to stand up for herself, but for someone else???

imagine Simon is vibing at the restaurant and you're working your regular hostess job coordinating things up front and whatnot, when one of your sweet waitresses comes up to you in tears! she's a sweet thing, hardly seventeen years old and just working the job for extra money, so your very first instinct is to help the poor thing out. at first you were expecting some sort of issues with a customer, but then she tells you the new line cook yelled at her over a ticket.

imagine Simon's surprise when he sees you march past his table and into the kitchen with more anger burning in your eyes than he had ever seen before and without so much as a second glance toward him. and then the yelling ensues. Simon has never heard your voice stand so firm and loud before. just the utter strength and confidence you exude has never been seen before, and all he can do is sit there and quietly enjoy his meal as he, and everyone else, listens to the argument. he keeps an ear out for the sound of crashing pans or anything else that would signal the argument had gotten physical, but it isn't long later before you exit the kitchen and march over to your station where that poor girl still waited for you.

"busiest night of the week and he was mad at you over that?" you spat. "don't worry about it, he shouldn't bitch about you the rest of the night. probably be too busy bitching about me."

eventually things calm down and more or less go back to normal, but Simon still chuckles about it anyway. it's something he wished he could have seen in person, honestly, but hearing it was more than enough for him. and though he probably wouldn't bring it up to you later after your shift lest he embarrass you with the knowledge that the argument could be heard throughout the entire establishment, he is proud of you nonetheless.

#mafia!simon #mafia!ghost #mafia!141 #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #f!reader

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misctf · 4 months

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Christmas Revenge

For Scott and his girlfriend Holly, the past year had been nothing short of magical. As the manager of his family’s Christmas tree farm, Scott enjoyed sharing his love for the holiday with anyone he met. And when Holly visited from the big city, he was happy to share it with her too. But Scott could’ve never imagined that their initial interactions would lead to a serious relationship. Holly left her job at a new tech company to come be with Scott and help on the farm. But while things seemed great, Holly insisted that Scott be careful. It wasn’t just her job that she left, but her boyfriend as well. Jared founded the tech company and didn't appreciate being rejected. But Scott brushed Holly off- besides, he was a beast of a man. He could handle Jared if he ever looked to cause trouble.

So a year passed without incident and Scott couldn’t help but forget Holly’s warnings. And as she gave him a kiss goodbye and headed out to start prepping for the holiday party down at the farm, Scott couldn’t help but think he was the luckiest guy on earth. But his thoughts were interrupted when he heard a knock at the door. Not thinking much of it, he continued getting ready, until another more forceful knock forced his hand. He opened the door to see who it was, only to be met by nothing but an unmarked package on the ground. Scott raised an eyebrow, looking around to see if he could see whoever delivered it. But without any luck, he shrugged and proceeded to bring the box inside, setting it down on the table.

“Wasn’t expecting anything.” He murmured to himself, quickly going about opening the strange box, “What the fuck...?” Scott frowned as he lifted what he could only assume was some type of costume- a gray bodysuit, “Who would send this?” He wondered aloud, placing the gray suit back in the box.

But Scott had bigger concerns- he needed to get ready for the party. He quickly stripped and stepped into the shower, enjoying the warm water that caressed his body. He rubbed soap through the hairs on his muscular chest and along his sore biceps. And as he enjoyed his shower, he heard something shuffling from just beyond the curtain. But when he pulled it back to inspect, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. The gray body suit was standing on its two legs and shambling towards him weakly. But when it “saw” it’s apparent target, it leapt at Scott with such force that it knocked the man to the ground.

Scott attempted to wrestle with it, using the strength he had built up over the years to resist the lifeless suit. But he watched in terror as one of the suit’s legs opened up and wrapped around his muscular calf. He winced in pain as he felt a burning sensation emanate from where it made contact and he watched in horror as more of the suit wrapped around his meaty thighs.

“Get the fuck off me!” He shouted, attempted to push the suit off of him.

But the suit was quick, and Scott watched as he inadvertently placed an arm within the suit’s. He attempted to pull it out, but the suit quickly locked onto his arm, preventing him from moving it. The suit wasted no time, and puppeted the trapped arm to pin his other arm down. Scott yelled out for help as the suit continued to wrap itself around his body, despite his attempts to break free. Even with all his muscle, the suit itself seemed to have an unfathomable amount of strength.

“Please...” He begged as he felt his muscles tire out.

Now at the complete mercy of the suit, he could only lie there as it wrapped around his other leg and arm. The remainder of the suit opened up and wrapped around his torso and chest, covering him completely in gray. His dick and ass were no exceptions as the tight suit forced his dick against his abdomen. Now nearly fully encased, he felt an intense heat be applied to his skin, as well as a new sensation primarily from his cock and ass. Pleasure maybe? The warmth felt good against his skin now and he let out a low moan as his tired muscles began to relax. But before Scott could fully appreciate these newer sensations, the remainder of the suit began to wrap around his bearded face. His eyes widened before his vision was flooded with gray.

And so Scott remained there, encased in the gray suit as it started to alter his body. He silently moaned as the suit compressed his muscles, shrinking his impressive physique into something much leaner. And it wasn’t just his musculature that was impacted, but his height as well. Inch by inch, he continued to shrink until he was about a foot shorter than where he had started. But for each inch of height lost, his ass expanded an equal amount leading to quite an impressive amount of additional padding. Minutes passed as Scott underwent his metamorphosis but eventually the suit simply dissolved away and disappeared down the drain. Scott moaned and gripped his head, shuddering at the cool air that touched his warm skin. He picked himself up, wobbling slightly as he adjusted to his new proportions.

“Oh god, what the fuck.” Scott said aloud as he finally viewed himself in the mirror, wincing at his newly high pitched voice.

Scott couldn’t even recognize himself. Every physical attribute that had made him the man he was had been removed. His body hair was absent. His musculature reduced to nothing. His dark hair now blond. His skin tan and smooth- not a callous to be found. But what he noticed in particular was his newly plump and jiggly ass- one of the only things that hadn’t been reduced in his transformation. This was nearly too much for the man and he quickly pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts that unintentionally highlighted his giant globes. He needed to find Holly and fast, but as he headed out the door to get down to the shop, he felt a pain in the back of his head and his world went dark.

When Scott woke up a few hours later, he found himself in what appeared to be an office building. He quickly looked down at his body and felt his heart sink as he realized the changes were very much real. But now, he wore nothing but a blue thong.

“Ah Scottie.” Scott looked up at the young man who entered the room, “I think we met briefly last year.” Scott shuddered as he realized it was none other than Jared, Holly’s former boyfriend, “Looks like our tech did exactly what it was supposed to, wouldn’t you say?”

“Y-you did this to me?” Scott mumbled.

Jared nodded, his eyes narrowing. He proceeded to explain that his company worked on tech to modify the human body. And when Scott stole Holly from him, all he could think about was bringing him down. How barbaric men like Scott needed to be taught a lesson. And for Jared, taking Scott from a rugged, masculine man to a small helpless twink was the perfect revenge.

“But Scottie, there’s something that bothers me. I want to know why Holly found you attractive. Would you care to educate me?”

Scott wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. To tell him that he was absolutely insane. But before he could say what he wanted to say, he started explaining to Jared why such big sexy muscles were such a turn on. How just the thought of hairy chests and big dicks were enough to get him off. And as Scott continued to listen to himself explain these things and the horrible things he’d let such a man do to him, he realized that he fully meant it. With each word, he felt his ass throb in pleasure with a need for one of these men- a man to slap his ass and use him. By the time he was done, he was nearly drooling in anticipation. Jared smirked.

“You see Scottie, that suit did a whole lot more than give you the body of a depraved gay slut.” He stated, “I’m sure I don’t need to explain that to you.” Scott nodded, barely comprehending his words, “But don’t worry, I know many men who would love to try out your new uh... talents.”

Scott was never the same after that day- unable to go back to the life he once lived. Gone from the world was the small town hunk, replaced with a slut that craved to be manhandled by the type of men he once was. And Jared made sure Scott was well taken care of so that he could focus all his energies on the only thing that mattered to him: pleasing other guys. So Jared was more than happy to provide any support Scottie needed. Besides, for Jared, this was the best Christmas gift he could've asked for.

#male tf #male transformation #straight to gay #mental change #personality tf #twink tf

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blackhairandbangs · 4 months

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That's What Friends Are For

Seo Changbin x Reader

info/masterlist

word count: 2.8K

genre: smut smut!! but its a little fluffy in the beginning

summary: you head to the studio to return bestfriend!changbin's hoodie and end up talking a bit about your friendship

warnings: smut! minors DNI, oral (f recieving), unprotected sex (don’t do it!) maybe a little choking? Reader is called “baby”, “baby girl”, and “bunny” Let me know if I’m missing anything!

a/n: this is currently unedited... i was too excited to post this and haven't given it a second look-through yet.

reblogs are MORE than appreciated <3

You and Changbin had been friends for years. Chan had introduced the two of you just pre-debut and you both had been inseparable since. From late nights over at his dorm, to early mornings at the studio, he just seemed to get you in a way you others didn’t.

Him and Chan were spending another evening in the studio, finishing up songs for the next comeback. The booming of bass flooded out as you opened the soundproof door.

“Hey,” you started to speak, giving the boy a small wave. “Hope I’m not interrupting, Binnie, you left your hoodie at my place last night and I know how cold the studio can get so I figured I would come run it by.” You saw the blush fall on his cheeks as you walked over to where he sat at the mixing table to hand him his tan hoodie. Truthfully, you had planned on stealing the hoodie, wearing it around the house, but you two were just friends and that didn’t seem like the appropriate “friend” action. A good friend would wash the hoodie, fold it up nice, and bring it to the owner’s place of employment, right?

“Oh my goodness, you are so thoughtful, thank you!” He takes the hoodie, slipping it over his broad shoulders. “Come have a seat! I was just finishing up this new mix before Chan gets back.” You nod your head, happy to have a chance to hang out with your friend. You loved watching him work. Something about the way his eyebrows furrowed when he was deep in thought, the way his hair would get ruffled underneath the booth headphones, the way he would bite his lip trying to get the audio effects just right, the way he… But all of the things you noticed couldn’t be anything more than platonic… You just loved to see your friend passionate about the things he enjoys and is good at. All friends love to see that!

“Do you want to hear a bit?” Changbin asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. You whip your head to look at him, taking the headphones he held out in his hands.

You give him a sincere smile, “I would love to.”

He leans over the table, pressing a few buttons before leaning back in his chair to get a clear view of your reactions. You get engulfed by the sound, taping your hand on your leg as the beat carries.

“Oh my God, Binnie, this is amazing!” You say, removing the headphones as the cut comes to an end. “My best friend has to be the most talented person in the world.”

Changbin gives a shy laugh at your praise. He is so grateful you enjoy his work, but the word “friend” hits him in his heart every time you say it. “I’m glad you like it,” He tries to hide his disappointment with a smile, just happy to have you here with him, even if it’s not in the way he wants.

“How has everything been going for you today?” he continues. You two saw each other the night before but were used to talking multiple times a day. However, his studio schedule left him with no free time to do so all day.

“Oh you know, the usual,” You start. You look down at your lap, twiddling your thumbs a bit. “Just another failed date, I really need to get off these apps.” You give a small chuckle, hoping to move on from the topic. You had met a really nice guy through one of the many dating apps on your phone and had planned to meet for coffee earlier in the day. You waited at the shop for an hour before realizing he was not planning on showing up and went home where you threw yourself on the couch until you could muster the strength to get up and bring Changbin his hoodie.

“I told you, you need to try meeting people in different ways!” He laughs. This was a conversation you two had often. You would constantly complain about all of your failed dating app dates. The dates you went on to clear your mind of the crush you had on your best friend. Your best friend would then suggest you meet people in person rather than on your phone. “Maybe you can find dates through hobbies, or maybe your friends?”

You give a small laugh before leaning closer to him. “You know, thats not a bad idea…have any friends I can date?” The question wasn’t serious, just a little joke to get a reaction out of him. You knew you didn’t want any of his friends, just him.

Changbin laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Well, there’s me-” he starts before realizing what he was saying, “and Chan, of course.” His original comment was muffled and flew right over your head. “But, I don’t think you want to date Chan, hes practically married to that sound booth,” he says, gesturing to the open booth in front of the desk you two sat at.

“Hmm… I don’t know, Chan is pretty cute…” You tease, avoiding eye contact with Changbin. What were you doing? Sure, Chan was good looking, but definitely not who you have been pining after. Actually, the guy you were into was sitting right next to you and you just told him you found his friend cute!

“Oh come on, I am not allowing you to date Chan,” Changbin says, playfully hitting your arm.

“Ow!” you laugh, rubbing where he hit, even though it wasn’t even close to actually being in pain. “I’m only joking, Binnie.” You take the opportunity to lean your head on his shoulder, the contact making your ears hot. “Besides, I’d choose you over Chan any day.”

Changbin moves his shoulder so you pull your head up to look at him. He gives a small smirk, “Oh, really? Hm, well you know I’d have to think about that,” he says to tease you. He wasn’t sure where this confidence was coming from. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but he was having a hard time keeping his feelings in tonight. He lets himself come back to the moment, remembering who you are. “You’re quite interesting, but our friendship will always come first,” he says, hoping you couldn't read the sadness in his eyes.

“Right,” you speak quickly, looking away, leaning back to your chair. The space between you grew back to what it should have been. “And we are really good friends.”

“Yes we are, and I am so happy about it,” He gives a fake smile and places his hand on your knee. “You’re really special to me…” his voice trails of as he sees the blush growing across your face. He rolls his chair closer to you reaching his other hand out to gently cup your cheek.

“I might have been teasing you earlier about Chan, but I mean it when I say you’re special to me. I..I like you, you know?”

Your blush goes deeper, feeling his warm hand on your face. Sure, you two had spent many nights cuddles up watching a movie, but something about this contact felt different. It felt intimate.

“Binnie, please don’t play with me like this…” You look down, not wanting to show the disappointment in your eyes. “You like me as a friend, right?

Changbin turns his head the other way, pulling himself away from you. “Yeah,” he nods, “As a friend, I promise. I’m just messing with you,” he says, trying to cover his tracks, hoping none of this is making you uncomfortable. “Friends do that, right?” He asks, turning his attention back to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder pulling you into almost a sort of side hug.

You give a small laugh, “Yeah, totally! Friends can do a lot of things.”

He releases his arm from you, meeting your eyes. “And what kind of things can friends do?”

You look down once again to hide the color of your cheeks, which you are almost certain are about as red as a tomato at this point. “Oh you know…” you trail off, trying to think of an answer. “Friends can cuddle, and…” you don’t allow yourself to finish the thought, feeling the tension sitting in the air.

Changbin leans in, placing a small kiss on the top of your head, sending a shiver straight down your spine. “Well then, friend,” he says, placing an emphasis on that last word, “How about we cuddle for a bit? I could use a break from this song.” He pats his lap, motioning for you to come over. Without hesitation, you are straddling his lap, head resting in the crook of his neck.

He smiles softly, feeling your warmth against him. “Good friends,” he sighs, reaching a hand to stroke your hair. “I’d say we make quite the comfortable pair.”

None of this was feeling real to you, you had to bring yourself back to reality. You lift your head from his shoulder, “How much is left to finish on the song?”

He gives a small chuckle, feeling your breath on his neck. “Oh not much, actually. We’re almost done, just a few more lines,” he starts to rock you gently, feeling your hearts beat in sync.

“That’s good,” you reply, looking up and leaning close to him. “Binnie, just out of curiosity, is there anything else you think close friends could do?” You run a hand through his hair, loosing control of your brain. The words came out without a thought.

Changbin’s heart races slightly over the close proximity and your question.

“Well, good friends can share secrets, and support each other…” he trails off feeling the warm breath of your lips above his. “But were just friends, remember”

You look him up and down, “Binnie, if we’re just friends, why can I practically feel your heart jumping out of your chest right now?” You let yourself be bold, knowing you need him in ways he will never understand.

He swallows hard, unable to meet your eyes. “Friends…um friends…do that…we’re um…just really good…” He struggles to get the words out, reaching out to touch the side of your face.

You decide to just go for it, letting all rationality leave your brain. Your hand comes up to grab his chin, turning his head to look at you. “Now, as a good friend, does this do anything to you?” you ask, practically feeling the heat of his cheeks radiating into the air.

His breath hitches, your faces inches apart. “Well, um… a good friend might be curious about the feelings of another close friend.”

“I think this good friend has maybe had strong feelings for the other good friend, bit was too scared to ruin anything.” His heart races even more, wanting nothing more than to say the words he has been waiting to say for years now.

“A good friend might have those sorts of feelings too…maybe..” You cut him off before he could finish, finally bringing your faces together, letting yourself lean into the kiss, your arms snaking around his neck.

Changbin moans softly into the kiss, gripping your hips as he leans back in the chair, allowing himself to be pinned against it by your weight. He pulls away momentarily, looking you up and down.

“Your lips, feel so soft against mine, I’ve always wanted to taste them.” A shiver sends through your body, feeling his grip tighten on your hips, leaning in to take more of his lips in yours.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

Changbin’s tongue sweeps against your lips gently, begging for entry as he deepens the kiss. He is completely lost in the moment, his mind blanketed by the desire to have all of you.

Your lips part, allowing him access inside. A small moan leaves your throat as the kiss intensifies. You pull away for air, your mouth still lingering close.

“Baby, when was Chan supposed to get back?”

“Not for another hour at least,” he starts, peppering your neck with kisses as you through your head back. “He had some things to take care of.”

“Perfect,” you lean in to take him into another string kiss, this one feeling different. It lingered with lust and need.

He pulls your hips closer, his tongue gliding against yours. A small whimper escapes the back of his throat as his hands travel up and down your back. You grind softly against him, feeling his hard grow underneath you.

“Fuck, yes…” he moans, kissing every part of your lips, down to your jawline and neck. He growls low in his throat as his hand moves down to grab your ass. “Tell me what you want, baby”

You moan, continuing to grind your hips, wanting to feel more. “Anything please, I just want you.”

He takes this as an invite to stand up. You allow your legs to wrap around his waist as he carries you to lean against the back wall.

“Binnie,” you whimper, feeling the contact of your head against the wall.

“Fuck, that name,” Changbin breaths out, his hands exploring every inch of you. He tugs on the hem of your shirt and you lift your arms, allowing him to take it off in one swift motion.

“You are so fucking sexy like this. All needy for me,” He starts to speak, lowering himself to his knees as his hands grip your thighs.

“Binnie, please” you moan out, desperate for his touch. He takes this as an invitation to swiftly remove your pants, leaving you in nothing but a bra and panties.

“Let Binnie make you feel good, baby” He says, brushing against your sensitive folds, pushing your underwear aside to leave kisses on your clit. He licks a stripe down you before inserting a finger inside of you, thrusting with precision.

Your head hits the wall as you moan. “Fuck, how are you so good at this?” Your words come out as jumbles as he continues to please you.

“Come on, baby. I’m not stopping until you cum all over my fingers,” Changbin murmurs, picking up the pace of his fingers inside you, working you up to the edge.

Your hands reach down to grip his hair, feeling more pleasure than you’ve ever felt before.

“Go ahead, cum for me baby. Let it all go,” he whispers against your clit, sending your legs shaking above him. He feels your walls clench around his fingers and presses his mouth against your clit one last time before standing up and sucking everything off his fingers. His breathing is ragged as he watches you come down from your high.

“Fuck, youre incredible, bunny.” You pull him into a needy kiss, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips. Changbin hums into the kiss, running up and down your back as he holds you close, “I could do this all night.”

“Please,” you whine, “Binnie, I need you to fill me up.” He laughs, picking you up and throwing you down on the couch that lays in the back corner of the studio. Changbin gets on top of you, leaning down for his tongue to invade your mouth once more. Your hands reach down to tug on the waist band of his sweatpants, pulling them and his boxers down.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, pulling away from the kiss slowly. You nod your head, looking at him, the hunger in his eyes making you flutter. He takes his cock in his hands lining up with your entrance before pushing himself in slowly.

“Tell me when I can move, baby”

“Please, Binnie, I need you,” You whimper, needing to feel him take all of you. With a hum, he starts a steady pace, hitting every spot inside of you. You throw your head back in pleasure, moaning out his name, his cock hitting places you never even knew about.

“I’m not gonna last much longer, you feel so good,” He whines, reaching a hand up to snake around your neck, squeezing gently. “Come on baby, cum for me, you can do it.”

You feel your stomach tighten as you reach your high, trying to use your hand to muffle your screams, remembering where you two were. You clench around him as his body shudders in pleasure as his seed fills you up completely. He reaches down, planting kisses down your neck, not yet pulling out from inside of you.

You speak out, breathless between kisses, “You should probably finish that song before Chan gets back…”

“Mhm..,” he hums, pulling out and sitting up on the couch, his breathing finally stable. “Come here, baby girl,” he says as he pulls you up into his arms, nuzzling his nose against your hair. “You’re amazing.”

Your head falls in the crook of his neck, taking in everything that just happened.

“I take it we’re not good friends anymore, huh?” you ask, giving him a small laugh and placing a kiss on his cheek.

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before returning a giggle to your question. “Definitely not,” His voice is soft as he leans your foreheads together. “You're mine now, and I promise I’m never letting you go.”

A/N: there ya go! this was my first time writing smut in years so I do hope this turned out okay! my requests and asks are open if anyone wanted to pop some hot takes, suggestions, comments or anything else you may want to say. Thank you for coming along with me as I finally return from my 3 year long fanfic hiatus. Happy Holidays guys!

#changbin x reader #bangchan x reader #felix x reader #han jisung x reader #hyunjin x reader #jeongin x reader #lee know x reader #seungmin x reader #skz #stray kids x reader #changbin smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids #stray kids smut

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rollinouttahere-writes · 2 months

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Something short and sweet for Sanji's birthday because I love him

Bewildered, Beloved

Sanji x GN!Reader

1.2k words

Spending a majority of his life at a restaurant instilled a strict sleeping schedule into Sanji. It didn’t take long for him to learn to wake on his own without any kind of alarm, and that habit translated perfectly over to his new life as a Straw Hat.

This morning was no different. Sanji awoke at his usual hour, blinking sleepily a few times as his mind caught up with his body. His first instinct is to roll onto his side and bring the love of his life into his arms for a tragically brief morning cuddle session. If he could lay there and hold you for hours each morning, he would. Alas, he had a duty to fulfill as the ship’s cook, so he could only indulge himself for a few minutes.

His arms reach out to drag you to him, only to feel nothing but bedsheets. He pats around your side of the bed, believing he must have just missed your form. Not only were you absent, but the sheets were cold. You’ve been gone for a while. Instantly, he’s wide awake and sits straight up.

“My love?” He calls out to an empty room. There isn’t a single sign of you, nor a hint as to where you had gone. Not one to sit around and wait, Sanji vaults himself out of bed and hurries to the door. He knows that you are more than likely perfectly fine, but that thought does nothing to quell the worry gnawing at him. He needed to physically see you safe and sound.

He grabbed the door knob, ready to search for you, only for something unexpected to happen. The knob came off. Sanji froze and stared at it in his hand. He tried to shove it back into the door, but all it did was click uselessly in the hole it was supposed to fit into. Stooping down to look closer revealed why it wouldn’t catch. The screws were missing.

This was officially getting weird. Downright bizarre, even.

Desperate for any kind of answer, he drops down and peers through the keyhole. All that got him was a whole lot of nothing. There wasn’t anything unusual about the hallway, and no one was in sight. Sanji stood up and ran a hand through his still messy hair. He didn’t want to kick a door down on the Sunny, but he’s not sure what other option he has at this point.

Heaving a sigh, he snatches his pack of cigarettes off the side table and lights one up. Taking a drag from it did nothing to soothe his mounting anxieties and confusion. He can already hear Franky bemoaning him kicking a door down, but he isn’t about to just sit here when something strange is going on.

Sanji knows his strength well, he should be able to kick it just hard enough to be able to get out, but not so hard that he sends it flying off its hinges. Taking a deep breath, he rears back, ready to bust it open. Then he hears footsteps.

A sigh of relief escapes him and he’s quick to knock on the door and call out to his would be savior, “Hey, the door knob fell off and I can’t get out.”

The footsteps come to an abrupt halt. “Sanji? You’re supposed to still be in bed!”

He would recognize his angel’s voice anywhere. The elation he feels from being graced with your voice is quickly replaced with confusion. “What do you mean? I’m supposed to be making breakfast for the crew right now.” He would have to settle for only a brief hug from you this morning instead of his preferred cuddle session, much to his complete and utter heartbreak.

“Not today. Just… Please get back into bed, Sanji,” your tone was pleading and it hit him straight in the heart. As much as he needs to get to the kitchen, he’s a slave to your words and obeys with only mild hesitation. The door knob is dropped onto the side table as he sits on the edge of the bed, waiting to see what this is all about.

After a pause, the door is opened from the other side, and you slide in back first. When you turn to face him, he sees you carrying a tray of food. The sweet scents of maple syrup and fresh fruit fill the room, along with the sharp tang of coffee.

Words escape him as he gawks at the food and then your beaming face. You look extremely proud of yourself as you set the tray on the bed. You kiss his cheek and bring him into a hug, “I made you breakfast in bed today!”

You proceed to ramble about how you weren’t sure your plan was going to work, but were happy it did. As much as Sanji had a tendency to hang onto your every word and listen to it like gospel, all he could do was stare at the breakfast you’d made him. A big stack of french toast was piled onto a plate and decorated with whipped cream and powdered sugar, with a hefty drizzle of syrup over it. Some fresh cut fruit accompanied it, along with a cup of coffee and your favorite morning beverage.

His throat feels like it’s in a vice when he speaks, “You made this for me?”

You stop talking and pull back just enough to be able to look him in the eyes. You’re still visibly elated, but there’s a calmer, warmer glow to it now. “I did. I wanted to treat you to a meal for once, so I really hope this all came out right and you like it. Oh, and don’t worry about making breakfast for the rest of the crew. I got Nami and Usopp to help out and take care of that today.”

Sanji was still in a state of shock as you gently guided him further onto the bed and climbed in next to him. You cut a piece off of the french toast stack and bring it to his mouth with an eager and expectant look on your face. He opened his mouth to take the graciously offered bite and savored it. You could have messed up at every single step, and he’s sure it would still taste like heaven because it was touched by your lovely hands.

That being said, the french toast was genuinely delicious. You must have practiced this countless times to have executed it so perfectly. Finally, he snaps out of his surprise and plasters a smile on his face, lest he makes you believe he didn’t love every bit of that.

He can’t contain his affection for you any longer. His arm snakes around your waist and he brings you in to press gentle kisses to your face. “Thank you, dear. I don’t know what I did to deserve such a gift this morning, but I want to know so I can do it again.”

Your face twists in surprise, then relaxes as you let out a small chuckle, “Well, you didn’t really do anything, but it’s something that happens once a year.” You press a quick kiss to his lips, then whisper, “Happy birthday, Sanji.”

#one piece #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #reader insert #x reader #I almost forgot his birthday i'm the worst simp

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soapybutt17 · 9 months

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Then There Was Three

Summary: A surprise had brought heartbreak and pain for everyone in the base. But Capt. Price would do anything to get back on your good side, one way or another. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish. Word Count: 6,441 Chapter Warnings: Mention of Unplanned Pregnancy. Arguments. Sad Gaz, Soap, and Ghost. Mostly Angst but Happy End. Smut. P in V. Oral (Female Receiving). Creampies.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open

You carefully make your way down the base hallway, trying to conceal the discomfort from your injuries as best as you can. The mission had been tough, and the wounds you sustained were a constant reminder of the dangers you face as the Lieutenant. But that wasn’t the only thing on your mind; there was something else, something you had just discovered during your time in the infirmary.

Pregnant. Seven weeks.

It’s been days since the mission, it had left you battered and bruised as any other mission did. But this time it was different, your injury was not the main problem you had but the test result that came along with it just before you were prescribed your medicine.

The news of your pregnancy had hit you like a bolt of lightning. It was both a moment of joy and immense fear, knowing that you were carrying a new life within you, but also all too aware of the challenges and responsibilities that came with it. How could you even begin to explain to anyone how it had happened, you had been on missions and settling in the base for months now, it would bring more question than answers to anyone that would become aware of the situation.

You hadn’t truly had the chance to process it fully, with everything else going on, you were desperate to find some peace to collect your thoughts and to get the much needed strength to finally face your husband and tell him the truth you had been hiding for days.

As you walk down the dimly lit hallway, you instinctively try to avoid your husband. You know you can’t keep this news from him forever, but right now, you need some time to yourself to come to terms with it all.

Your footsteps echo softly, and you can hear the faint hum of the activity around you, but it all seems distant. You knew that the rest of the team were having their weekly poker night and you were already certain they were looking for you. Your mind is preoccupied with conflicting emotions – the exhaustion and pain from the mission mixed with the dread and nervousness of impending motherhood. Each step becomes a battle with yourself, and you silently hope that you won’t run into anyone who might ask too many questions.

“Lieutenant?”

You recognize the voice immediately—it’s John. Your heart skips a beat, and you quickly put on a stone cold gaze. He was more than capable of seeing through your lies if you weren’t careful. It was better to stonewall him in this moment.

“Captain.”

“My office.”

He requested and without a shadow of doubt, you know he already know without him saying anything.

“Yes, Sir.” You nodded, following him closely in a short walk to his office, hoping that whatever was to happened behind closed doors.

Eventually arriving in his office, you had quickly locked the door, fearing that anyone else would be made aware of whatever conversation you might have with him. You stand in the dimly lit office, the weight of the discussion heavy on your shoulder as you husband stood in front of you with his own blank face. His hips leaning against the table and his arms were crossed against his chest.

His face slowly dissolved from a stern blank look, to a look of complete sadness that broke your heart.

You clenched your fist, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. It had now become clearer to you why your emotions this past few days have been all over the place. It had almost cost everyone the mission had it not been for your husband’s quick thinking and demands for you to finally move back.

You did not want to say anything, hoping that even for just a fragment of a moment that whatever he wanted to talk about wasn’t what you’ve been fearing. The military has always been your life, your passion, and now it feels like it’s slipping away from you and you’re leaving everyone high and dry because of it.

“I’ve finally got around to read the Doctor’s report on you.” He began, his arm falling to his side before he turned and picked up a folder you already know what it contained. “Imagine my surprise when I find out you shouldn’t even be here in the base and you were advised to go home for the time being.”

“It was suggested that I don’t go on missions, Sir. It never stated that I am not allowed to be on base to handle drills and paperwork.” You were quick to respond. It was a hole you somehow find yourself digging deeper into.

“That is not the point, Rookie.” He spat voice raising a few octaves and had you standing stock still. Your husband would never intentionally raise his voice at you and this was much of a concern to him than anything else. “You have lied about your medical record to me, your superior. I could have you kicked out of this base and banned from ever stepping foot here ever again.”

You blinked, fury at the threat he was presenting to you right now.

“I did not lie about anything.” You spat, your own voice raising at his threat. “I followed what the doctor wanted. I am not allowed to go to any missions that’s it.”

“That is not the point!” He screamed walking further towards you.

“Do not raise your voice at me!”

“You don’t get to order me in my office, in my base, and anywhere that I am deemed your captain.”

You took a step back, the tears now fully falling from your eyes now.

“You don’t get to threaten me, not in this moment. Not as my Captain and not as my husband.”

He paused, a flicker of regret danced on his face before he returned to the fury that you were more than certain wouldn’t leave until he gets what he wants. But in moments like this, moments where you know it shouldn’t escalate in the way he would want, you would fight.

“You don’t get to decide about this all on your own.” He spat, moving closer to you. “You’re leaving the base and staying home. No exception.”

“No.” You said simply, to this very moment, you will fight to the very end. You were not leaving until you were good and ready, when they were good and ready.

“No?” He chuckled, amusement lacking in his voice. “Then what are you going to explain to everyone? How in bloody hell are you going to tell everyone how you got yourself pregnant then, hm?”

You said nothing, it was something you had hoped you would plan once you get to that point. Not when you were being cornered like this, not with the emotions on both sides rising more than it needs to be.

“Are you gonna open more problems than it needs to be right now?”

“Why are you treating me like I’m a liability?” You question.

“Because. You. Are.” He spat. “You are a liability to me as the Captain and even more so as my wife. I will not be able to work or handle my team if all I am thinking about is you and the baby.”

Somehow his statement further turned into a screaming match between the both of you. Accusations of neglect from both parties and you were more than certain that Poker night was ruined and the three boys would be close by listening in to the whole commotion with you and your husband missing.

“You’re leaving first thing in the morning. End of Discussion.”

“Just know that if I leave, if you force me to leave I swear to God that I will never return here ever again.”

“I don’t care if you don’t. My priority as is it is in my authority that you will leave the base and go back home—even if it means I have to drag you out of this base myself by the hair and keep you chained to the bed throughout your pregnancy.”

You gasped at his words, the anger of your husband was sometimes that of a man fighting for his life, arguments could be brutal and you had learned so early on in your relationship to never take what he said to heart. But not this time, not when his words held so much truth and brought so much trauma you had once tried to escape from.

“Just like what my father did to my mother.” You spoke.

He realize the mistake of his words. But as you shook your head, there was no getting back from it. You wouldn’t allow him.

The silence of the room was deafening, more than the actual screaming match between the two of you. He hurt you, more than you had once believed he would refused to do. You wonder if there was ever going back from his words.

How could he stoop so low just to get his point across? Of all the moments that he could hurt you, why did he choose to do it now, when all you had hoped to gain was comfort from him, a compromise, and even just a moment of control especially after the failure of the last mission you led.

The silence was broken by the sound of John’s phone ringing. Without skipping a beat, he answered the phone his eyes still glued to you, afraid that you would disappear from his gaze.

It was Laswell, she was simply inquiring about the upcoming mission. But the last statement finally made you realize that you had enough and it was better to be as far away from the man as possible.

“Rookie is out, she’ll be on leave for the foreseeable future per the Doctor’s order.”

Without waiting for the call to end, you turned and opened the door and leaving John behind, ignoring him as he tried to call for you. You ignored him as the tears continued to fall as you made your way back towards your room to pack and to never see him for the foreseeable future.

You had to stop for a moment at the sight of the three boys waiting by the Rec hall, different levels of worry lingering in their faces as they caught sight of you. Before any of them could even say a single word, you had walked further away, ignoring them as you did not have the heart to tell them that you would be gone for a while and you were letting them down.

Soap MacTavish was just enjoying Poker night with Gaz and Ghost, all three of them were waiting for you and Price to finally join them to finally get the ball rolling but still you both were missing.

“Where the hell are they?” Soap was almost pouting as his eyes looked at his cards then up towards the door, waiting still for everyone to finally be here.

Ghost grunted the same time that Gaz shrugged. Neither of them seemed as fazed as him about their mother and father being away for such a long time. They were usually the first ones here.

Before Soap could continue to press the issue on, the sound of Price’s voice echoing the empty hallways had everyone on edge and immediately standing to attention. It was the sound of your own voice that came after that made all three of them realize why the both of you were missing at that point.

“Mom and Dad are getting divorced?” Gaz asked playfully but more and more the voices had grown and had all three of them making their way out of the room and closer towards where the source of the screaming match was.

Soap could barely understand what the argument was all about, but before he could find himself walking towards Price’s office, Ghost had held him back with a shake of his head.

“It’s not something we need to get involved with.”

Poker Night was now officially over it seems and with the Lieutenant’s order, the room was cleared out and all three of them had found themselves walking just outside of the Rec hall, but neither of them wanted to head inside, waiting for even a glimpse of you and Price after the screaming match.

“We need to see what’s going on.” Soap tried convincing Ghost, but the man was not having it, allowing him and Gaz to remain outside of your room to wait instead, but nothing more.

“It’s not our place to intervene with their argument, Johnny.” Ghost began. But having known Soap for a little longer now, Soap knew the man had heard something that neither him nor Gaz did and it was bigger problem than any of them could help resolve.

“But Rookie—”

“Is a big girl and can handle herself as best as she could.” Ghost interrupts him. “This is not our battle to fight. Not this time, Johnny.”

Soap was now left to wait, there was no use in arguing in with Ghost on this, he would either continue on to deny Soap of his request or hold him hostage if he had to. It was now a waiting game, and no one had to wait for long as you stumbled out of the office, slamming the door behind you and making your way towards them.

The tears that fell from your face brought anger and panic for Soap. Captain Price might be his Captain, but if he ever finds out what reason for the tears in your eyes, he wasn’t afraid of throwing hands just to protect you.

You stared at all three of them for a moment before walking further away, to your room or office from the looks of it.

“What if—”

“She will tell us, just give her time.”

Ghost reassurance did nothing to assure him as the following morning, you were gone. Neither Price nor Laswell were able to give them a good reason for your temporary departure. The lost look in Laswell and the pained one in Price somehow says it all.

Soap would never forgive Price for what he’s done to you.

To Simon “Ghost” Riley, he would never admit that he had found a family in his team. It would make him weak. It would put a target on everyone’s back, if he gets too close. But somehow in the months of being in the Task Force, he had found a family he never thought he still deserved to have in this world.

A pair of chaotic brothers in Soap and Gaz that was hellbent of making his life a living hell. But they always meant well, protected him and cared for him more than anyone would even admit would. They’ve literally took a bullet for him in countless of missions and now he was more than willing to do the same should the need ever arise.

Then there was Price. A man that understood him in a way that he had once wished his own father did growing up. The man was everything his father will never be. He was a man that cared for him and helped him be the man he was now. To be better, both in missions and in his own retrospective life. He was an ear he could talk to at times when he was too scared to give Soap and Gaz mental scars from his own mental breakdowns. He listened, and gave him advice that he still lived up to up to this very day. It didn’t hurt that the man would affectionately call him Son when talking to him about his problems. But it also meant that he did not hesitate to give him an earful if he fucked up on missions or caused so much trauma for either Soap or Gaz. In a perfect world, where he would have a second chance in life, he would wish to have Price as his father instead of the one that was given to him.

But amongst the chaos of his team, the one that stood out the most and made him truly realize the family that he had come to love in the base was You. A woman that had refused to allow him to act formal in your presence. You were the first to calm him down from nightmares when no one, not even Price would be capable of helping him. You helped him in whatever he would need even without asking. The calm and often reassuring face always brought him memories of his mother, of the woman that had cared for him at times of trauma from his father. You did the same with his nightmares. Always being the shoulder he could cry on when he was so tired of showing the façade for everyone to see. You were only one that was allowed to see him metaphorically without his mask. The real Simon that still craved a mother’s love, freely giving it to him when you weren’t even supposed to.

This was the reason why your departure hurt him so much. You were the life of the base. With you gone to God knows where, the base was a desolation of what it usually was. The night that you left, he had never saw you, he was not even able to say goodbye to you and learning about your absence for the foreseeable future.

It hurt him and everyone in the base knows as much. Soap and Gaz had done their best to cheer him up but it did nothing to appease the doubt in his mind that he might have something to do with your absence.

“Simon,”

He had turned his attention away from the open skies, his cigarette was lit for God knows how long but he was yet to even take a whiff of it. His mind was too preoccupied about your absence.

In front of him was the Captain, a man that tried his best to keep the stress and worries away from his features but since your absence the façade was no longer in place. It had affected the man more than he ever lets on.

He grunts a response, measured as he could. The man was still his Captain and he had some few choice words that would land him in hot waters if it was put out in the open for the man to hear.

“I know with Rookie gone, things have been tense in the base.” Price began.

He said nothing, but nodded in acknowledgement. A part of him knew if it was Simon, it was Price’s fault why you were gone. The screaming match was also something to take into consideration to.

He had heard bits and pieces of the conversation. But he did not want to make his own guess in the event that it was far from what was the truth. But one thing was clear in the conversation he had heard. Price wanted you to head home but you didn’t want to—not yet at least.

“She isn’t cleared to go back for missions and it’s best she stayed home. It would be safer for her.” Price’s explanation had layers that truly wasn’t he was about to discuss. “But there is more to it and as much as I’d love to tell you lot, it’s better if she does when she is good and ready.”

“What did you do?” It was a question that was now directed at the man more than it did you.

“I made the mistake and will deal with the consequence later on.” He chuckled dryly, the meaning behind the words brought more questions for Simon but he was not in the mood to dabble upon.

“Choices have consequence.” He agreed.

“But I’m sorry, to you and everyone. It’s gonna be hard for the next few months. But once everything is settled, she’ll be back. That is just how she is, no matter what I do, no matter what I say to make her leave, she will always find a way to come back to all of us.”

For now, all Simon could do was nod. He trust Price’s words for now, as the only thing that could ever truly break your promise was death itself. Nothing more and nothing less.

It’s been well over months now since you had left the base. No words from Price about your exact return, but things were slowly getting back to normal—as normal as it could be without you in the base.

Gaz was somehow the one that had it the hardest since you’ve left. He had been the closest to you and to Price, but with you gone and the notion that Price had been responsible for your absence, he resented the man.

It shows when Price that usually noticed him being the last to leave the meeting for missions would now be the first to leave without giving the man a chance to talk to him. It showed when conversation between him and Soap in the Mess Hall would die down the moment the Captain had arrived and joined them for Lunch.

It was brutal for him, it took a lot out of him that was so used to the notion of you greeting him and asking about his day and about the chaos he and Soap would somehow get themselves involved with.

He hated this, hated the feeling that it was his parents’ divorce all over again and he had no way of helping in mending the broken pieces back like when he was a kid. But this time, it was much crueler for him, to know there was no good reason why you were gone just that you were.

Then he heard it, the sound of his phone ringing. Usually he tried his best to reduce the times he checks on it while on base. But somehow he did and he was lucky enough to do so, it was you. After months and months of no answers here you were giving him a much needed call.

“Hey, Mama.” He answered after the second ring. All the emotions somehow escaped from the two words.

‘Hey Gaz, how have you been?’ Your voice was a lot chipper than the last memory of you in the base, the same familiar reassuring voice that helped him calm his own set of demons and doubts.

“Good. Just—good.” He could truly tell you about the hole you’ve left out in the base since you were gone. He did not want to put more weight on your shoulder for what happened. “But enough about me, how are you?”

There was a moment of silence before he heard you sigh through the other line.

‘Doing good, better than I would have expected.’ You respond. ‘I know I’m not supposed to be calling while I’m dealing with personal stuff, but I just had to make sure you and the boys are okay.’

“We are.” He tried to reassure, but he knew his voice failed him in the lie. “We miss you, Soap misses you, and I’m certain that even Ghost does too.” He took a chance to see if that would be enough to reassure you. “I’m sure the Captain misses you too, he’s isn’t the same without you in the base.”

He could hear the snort that escape from your lips at the mention of the Captain. Good to know that it was a sore subject to discuss over the phone with you.

‘I’ll deal with him when I come back.’ There was a promise in your tone, a promise that Gaz as much as everyone else knew well enough to know you were more than willing to keep when you get back.

“When are you coming back anyways?” He inquired.

‘A few more months, maybe after the holiday.’

“Injury was that bad huh?”

‘More or less, it’s more about the personal stuff going on back home that I need to deal with too.’ You brushed off. ‘Now I want to know what you three had been doing while I was gone.’

Somehow the call lasted longer than he expected, what he had thought would be a quick chat with you turned into hours. Talking about everything you’ve missed since you’ve left and you had supplied him all the secrets stash of snack and food laying around the base for him and the boys to share while you were gone.

But as the sunlight through his window slowly turned into darkness, he knew it was time for him to let you go and prepare for the mission.

‘Promise me something, Gaz.’ You requested.

“Anything.”

‘Don’t be too hard on Price. He did what was best for me and for the rest of the team. He made the right call and it took me a while to realize it.’

“Okay.” He agreed, he had his doubts and hesitations but if it was you that made the request, he would try to the best of his abilities.

As you both said your goodbye, Gaz could only hope that the months would finally pass quickly than anything else. He misses you just as much as everyone else did.

For the first time in a long time, John Price took a much needed leave. He doesn’t usually use it as much since the formation of the Taskforce, with his wife also in the base there wasn’t truly a reason for him to come home. But this time it was different, it’s been months since the verbal dispute between the both of you and all forms of communications had been through text. You had somehow refused to answer any of his calls and had deemed it better to communicate through email or text.

Memories of the fight that had you crying still haunted him in his time in the base. It was filled with people of different walks of life, but it was an empty void of its former self without you in it. It was also difficult to shoulder the brunt of everyone’s anger at your absences.

Ghost, Soap, and Gaz had been cold since you’ve left, colder when they had realized it was your call that you were to be sent home immediately. He truly did not have a choice at the matter, he wasn’t acting as your Captain when he made the decision, but as your husband that knew it was safer for you and for their unborn child to be at home, away from the blood and violence that came with their line of work.

He knew you wouldn’t take it well. It comes with your love for every single one of the people in the base. You were leaving them behind and John understood as much, but he did not truly have any other choice. He wanted to protect you and the baby and he wanted to make sure no questions would come your way on how you’ve gotten pregnant on the base without any of them knowing.

As he stood in front of his home, the familiar smell of your cooking brought back memories of the both of you escaping the world and living in the world you’ve both created for yourselves away from everything else. Memories of promises of a family when the loose ends were tied up and the life you had once only hoped of having when all was finally said and done.

Neither of you planned for all of this. It was too early for either of you to experience but John understood that it was something that they both need to deal with from now on. John would also be a hypocrite if he denied the fact that he was excited about this new chapter in your lives.

He had always wanted to become a father. Dreaming of being able to have a couple of kids that were spitting images of you who he would love and protect with all his life and with all of his soul.

With his key, he had open the door and the smell intensified. A fucking Sunday Roast that he had been craving for months now. A meal he had been bemoaning to you often in your time in the base. A meal you had promise to make him the moment he had arrived back home. Even with the situation between the both of you, you still kept your promise of a Sunday Roast for him.

“Welcome Home.” You spoke the moment he had plopped his back and toed his boots off.

You smiled at him sheepishly and John took the chance to get a good look at you. In a silk robe that he had hoped hid more than your naked skin, you were the epitome of every man’s fantasy combined. Your hair was longer than what he had last seen from you and was tied in a messy bun. But most prominent thing about you in this instance was the bump that was bigger than he would have ever expected when he came back to you.

All the emotions of the last few months have washed over him and he was left in tears as he made his way towards you. Wrapping his arms around you, he took in your scent, the smell of your perfume and just the smell of your skin against his nose. He was a mess of bloody embarrassing proportions as he wept onto your shoulders.

He was sorry. He made sure you knew that as he apologized to you over and over again as you cooed for him. Rubbing his back and reassuring him that everything was okay now. No longer did you have anger like you once did when he made the call.

“I was scared…” He whispered against your neck. “When I found out, all I could remember were your injuries in the mission, what harmed could it have done to the baby. I did what I thought was best for you and the baby.”

“I know, its okay.” You tried your best to reassure him now. You pulled him back and pulled him into a kiss. “You did the right thing.”

He closed his eyes, pulling you back into a kiss. He truly missed this, being able to be so close to you, to be able to have you in his arms and in his presence. No one was greatly affected in your absence than he was.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated as he pulled away and open his eyes to look at you. A reassuring smile resting on your face.

“I forgive you.” You smiled cupping his face, your free hand holding onto his hand and placing it on top of your bump. “Now let’s get you something to eat, I know you’ve been craving a Sunday Roast for months now.”

He allowed you to pull him to the table where everything was setup. Conversations had been mostly on catching up, stories about the boys’ shenanigans while you were away and your Doctors’ Appointment and everything you had to deal with during the pregnancy.

“Here.” You smiled sliding a small photo towards him mid-bite.

Taking his attention away from the food, he took the photo and the smile grew bigger at the sight before him. It was your sonogram. Slowly but surely the small little bump was forming and turning into a baby that was you and him together.

“I didn’t ask for the gender, I wanted us to find out together when I go back to the Doctor in a few days.” You explained.

He nodded looking through their shared home and his mind already planning all the needed changes to make sure you and the baby would be safe here even without him here.

“Have you bought the crib yet?” He inquired.

“No. I wanted to wait for you to do it with me. I got a few plans I wanted to do for the spare bedroom but I wanted to make sure we do it together.”

He nodded, even after everything, you still thought of him.

“I’m sorry, for leaving you here all on your own to deal with this.”

“John, shut up.” You requested making him look right back at you in surprise. “What’s done is done and it was better for me being here. If anyone finds out I’ve been puking my guts out every morning we’d have to answer more questions than we’re even ready to answer. It’s safer for me here, safer for the baby to be here in a normal home instead of the home we’ve made for ourselves in the base.”

He nodded.

“I’m sorry too. I know we haven’t planned on having a kid just yet with everything going on, but I should have told you the moment I found out about the baby and we could have discussed it better together than you being forced by your hand to do it for me.”

“Apology accepted.”

“But you still owe me for shouting at me.” You pointed out and the heated gaze was all John needed to know about what he could possibly do to make it up to you.

With the leftovers stashed in the fridge and the plates thrown into the dishwasher, John lifted you into his arms bridal-style much to your surprise before carrying you right back to your bed for the much needed apology he still owes.

Buck naked on your back, what a way for you to welcome your husband home from Deployment. His head resting in between your legs, lapping onto your juices after your first orgasm. Your hands brushed against his brown hair, holding onto his hair pulling him away as you were getting closer to your second one.

You tried to pull him away as you whimpered your protest but he continued to lap onto you. The burn of his beard against your inner thighs, his tongue and mouth that was eating you out like his life depended on him, and his eyes, his smoldering blue eyes that were glued to you all throughout brought you into your second release. The shiver run through your spine before washing through your entire body and you were left into a whimpering mess for your husband that has finally pulled away.

Your eyes glued onto him even in your daze. Watching him as he removed his clothes, one by one. His own eyes were glued to you, his beard wet from your release and his chest rapidly rising and falling in his pants. He craved you just as much as you craved him.

“Am I forgiven?” He teased.

“Just fucking me already, John.” You pleaded for him now.

“Yes, Ma’am.” With a mock salute and the last of his clothes discarded you watching him hover on top of you, making sure to push most of his weight onto his arms that caged between your head.

Your legs immediately finding their way around his narrow waist, urging him to finally make good of his promise.

Breaking from eyes contact with him, you looked down, watching him rub himself for a moment before he rubbed himself against your core, tapping his cock against your lips coating himself with your release before finally slipping himself straight into you.

You gasped, welcoming the aching familiarity of his size. It’s been so long without this, without him. Your arms found their way onto his shoulders, wrapping yourself around him as he finally moved.

His movement was slow, letting you get used to his size all over again and the cautious movement of not hurting you or the baby now.

“Look at me, Love.” He pleaded, voice whimpering in his own desperation for you.

You did, looking right at him and saw him in his most vulnerable state for you. You pulled him in for a kiss. A kiss that took the air out of your lungs and brought you back to the familiar sanity that only your husband could bring you back into.

Slow his movement becomes quick and it brought you into a whimpering mess as you felt your third release creeping in.

“John,” You pleaded for him, pulling him tighter to you with both your arms and legs. “Harder, please.” You pleaded knowing it was how you would want him.

He grunted and his movement becomes quicker and harder as you wanted from him. The climb for your release was drawing closer as his hand moved down and fingers rubbing into your well abused clit.

“Let go, Love.” He pleads from you and with just his words, you screamed onto his neck as your third release washed over you. You cried at how John was still at it as your arms and legs went limp onto the bed, he was chasing for his own release now at this point.

You watched with blurry eyes as his eyes were on you still, closing only as he stilled and you felt spurts upon spurt of his cum paint your inside. He took a deep breath before maneuvering the both of you until he was on the bed with you on top of him. He hasn’t pulled out yet, but you felt him grow softer inside of you.

“I missed you.” He whispered after a few minutes of silence.

“I missed you too.” You sighed nuzzling your face against his sweat covered chest.

“Once this next mission is over and done with, I’m gonna take my paternity leave and cash in the rest of my leave.”

You blinked knowing if he does that it would mean everyone would become well aware of this private part of his life. It would also mean your own secret would be exposed in the collateral.

“Are you okay with it?” You asked looking up at him.

“It’s better that way, I trust them to keep their mouths shut when they need to, but it would avoid this kinds of arguments moving forward.” He sighed, arms wrapped around you and his hand resting on your stomach. “I think it’s about time that we told everyone. We can’t keep this secret up for longer.”

You thought about it too, but you weren’t so sure if your husband would also be fine with it if the need was to ever arise.

“Okay. I trust you.” You agreed moving until you were laid on top of him now. “I love you, John.”

“I love you too.” He smiled kissing you in the forehead.

#John Price Smut #John Price One Shots #John Price Oneshot #John Price Oneshots #john price headcanon #John Price x reader #john price x female reader #John Price Angst

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loveliestlovelygirl · 2 months

Text

tangle of strings

pianoteacher!anakin x student!reader

synopsis: mr. skywalker has been your piano instructor since you were fourteen years old. from the moment you met, you knew he was the one. he never expressed his feelings for you vocally, despite all the time you spent together. but after you turn eighteen and prepare to leave for college, he changes his tune.

w.c: 6.9k

warnings!! {minors dni}, dark content, grooming heavily featured, sexual content occurs after the reader is 18, p in v, fingering, oral, fem!reader, gentle dom!anakin, sub!reader, "loss" of virginity, jealousy, religious themes

the content you consume is your responsibility ♡

The piano is the only thing Mr. Skywalker told you that he loved.

He was never spotted with a girl or anyone for that matter in a romantic sense. He was always single, which never made sense to anyone in your small town because he is handsome. He’s always been handsome. His yearbook pictures from high school proved it.

When you would go over to his house for piano lessons, he would show you many things from his life, like his award cabinet, filled with every trophy and certificate he’s won from piano competitions or his yearbook photos. Those photos were one of the first things he showed you. It was one of your first memories of just you and him.

Mr. Skywalker takes a big stack of books off the shelf in his library all at once. Using his strength to balance the dusty books on his arms, he brings them to the reading table where you sit. He takes off the top one and opens it up before you.

Eventually, you find his picture. You cover your mouth as you giggle. He had thick glasses making him look like a nerd. But he was cute. So, undeniably cute to you. You wish he could be the same age. You would want to be his friend. You would want to kiss him.

If you were the same age, he could be yours.

“I wasn’t always like this,” he muses, his large body looming behind you as he looks over your head to gaze at the picture. “I used to be the kid everyone picked on. When I’d get home, I would write a song about how I was feeling. Some of those songs inspired the ones I play at my shows.”

When he talks, you gush. His warm voice is safe. He’s the kind of person you could tell all your secrets to.

And you did tell him everything you couldn’t tell your parents. You’d tell him your deepest secrets. Like the boys you crushed on. Or your new feelings of lust towards them that caught you off-guard as a teen. He understood you like no one else in the whole world. He was the first to know about your first kiss when you were sixteen. And he seemed… jealous when you told him.

“I don’t know how it happened,” you say. “One moment, we were talking and laughing. And the next thing I know, Drew is pushing me down on the bed to kiss me!” you squeal. “But don’t tell my parents. They’ll think I’m a whore.”

Mr. Skywalker pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry. I always keep your secrets. Drew is the boy in your history class, correct?”

You nod, amazed that he would remember. The last time you spoke of Drew had been several months ago. But he always pays attention to even the smallest details. That’s how you know he cares.

“I don’t know if he’s good for you,” he mutters, noticeably bitter about something. “Does he really know you? I think… he doesn’t. He’s probably just trying to use you.”

Mr. Skywalker is much older than you. And wiser. So you take his advice to heart. Maybe you shouldn’t see Drew tonight after all.

“How many times have you been kissed?” you ask him, your voice all innocent. Although your motives were anything but pure. While you might have just shared a kiss with Drew, there is one man who is truly the object of your greatest desires. You just haven’t found a way to tell him.

He shakes his head. “You know I’d rather talk about you.” That’s what he says when you pry too deeply into his private life, which only adds to your secret obsession

Anakin has always been the one thing that rivals your obsession with your instrument of choice. And it’s the only secret you kept from him all through high school because you knew he couldn’t possibly feel the same way about you.

Even if the small touches, the secret looks, and long hugs seemed to indicate otherwise. You were too afraid to ask him what it all meant. He never gave that kind of attention to anyone else.

And as an awkward teen, you were furious that you couldn’t express your love to him directly. You kept telling yourself that you would when you’re older. When you turned eighteen, you would confess to him.

Since you couldn’t tell anyone, even him, about this secret, you’d use the piano to share your soul, to put your feelings out into the atmosphere. When you play, no matter where you are, you feel him sitting on the bench beside you, watching over you.

He taught you everything you know now. He’s the reason you chose to major in Piano Performance in college to the great horror of your parents. But what did they expect? They watched you sacrifice your youth for excellence in your craft. The nights were filled with pools of tears, cries, and screams as you played until you got the part, section, or note just right.

When your fingers rest on the ivory keys, you feel him and nothing else. He’s your muse in every song you write.

The piece that won you a full scholarship to your dream university, you wrote it while thinking of Anakin. Your beloved piano teacher. Your closest friend. Your secret love.

He’d been in your life for so long, giving you lessons when you first showed an interest in music. How could you not love him?

He went to the same church that your family attended every Sunday. He played piano sometimes during worship service if the music minister was out on vacation or fell ill. Church was how your father met him, and they became good friends. He often came to your Sunday lunches.

Your mom always cooked fried catfish or fried chicken because that’s what your dad wanted. Mr. Skywalker, as you called him back in your high school years, would eat two plates of food. He’d say things like “I haven’t had a home cooked meal in years,” even if he was at your house just last week. You would laugh the loudest at his jokes. As you think about them now, you realize they weren’t funny, but you’re in love with him so it doesn’t matter.

After lunch, your parents would take care of the food and dishes, giving alone time with him. Like a young pup, you’d follow him outside on the back porch where you’d sit side by side on the creaky old swing.

“Do you cook or bake?” he asks you.

You haven’t the slightest idea of why he’d ask such a thing. You still lived with your parents. Your mom does most of the cooking. Your dad grills sometimes. “No. I get scared that I’ll burn myself.”

Suddenly, he reaches over for your left hand, the closest one to him, from your lap and holds it between his great palms. “Cold,” he whispers. He massages your fingers to revive them. “I wouldn’t want you to burn your hands. They’re so perfect… for playing.”

Anakin looks down at what he’s doing to you and his expression sours. At the time, you don’t know why. You wonder if you said or did something he doesn’t like because the mood changes instantly. He drops your hand and pats your thigh.

“You have piano hands, remember?” he reminds you. He smiles at you, and you feel secure again.

That’s exactly the thing that you always tell him. His hands spread out further than a whole octave, while you struggle to hit the two octave notes simultaneously without pulling a muscle. His fingers are long, and his palms are wide. You can’t compete with that.

You wonder what other things he’s good at with hands like those.

For the entirety of your high school existence, you pined and pined after him. He was always on your thoughts every minute of every day. You never grew sick of daydreaming about him. And on occasion that was reflected in your grades though you maintained a high GPA regardless. Every week was just your going through the motions of life mindlessly, only waiting for two short hours out of the week on Friday which was when you took lessons with him.

You lived solely for those two hours in which he gave you piano lessons free of charge. He said it was because you had such potential, but still to this day, you like to think he reciprocated some of your feelings even before he actually made a move on you.

For those two hours, you would sit right up against him on the leather cushion of the piano bench and play for him whatever pieces you were working on or things he assigned you from the previous week. He was never harsh with you even when you weren’t getting something.

You throw your hands on the keys, striking a dissonant chord that makes you both wince. Mr. Skywalker instantly pulls your hands away.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he said with concern. “I promise you’ll get this. It just takes time. I know you practice too much as it is.”

“I want to be good! I want to be a star!” With that, you break down instantly and cry. He never minds when you cry in front of him.

“One day, you will be. I believe in you,” he soothes you, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head as if you belong to him. He hugs you. “We can try again when you’re ready.”

“Okay,” you say, leaning against him to hear the echo of his heart. His heartbeat is sensual to you, even at sixteen. You can’t explain it. These stupid hormonal feelings you have for him are so wrong. But when you look up into his passionate eyes, you see the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. You have to marry him. You have to.

From the time you were five, you were afraid of thunder and lightning. Terrified by it actually. The fear is still with you today. But it was so much worse in middle school and high school. You started taking lessons from Anakin when you were fourteen years old. And you were still such a child then. You remembered the time it stormed so hard during your lesson that you had to spend the night at his house because it was too dangerous for your mother to come pick you up. But that also meant you couldn’t hide your abnormal fear of a thunderstorm from Anakin.

He had this giant plush rug under the piano. When you asked him about it, he said that it caught the sound. At the tail end of your lesson, the night you had to stay over, lightning struck close to his house and spooked you so much that you shrieked and slipped under the piano, curling up on that soft rug like a scared puppy.

Anakin was such a sweetheart because he followed you there.

“Hey,” he whispers, rubbing your back, “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

You cry into your arms, hiding your face. “I know! I know it’s stupid of me. I just—”

“It’s not stupid. We all have different fears.” After he says that, he lies on his back beside you. “But I won’t let the storm hurt you, okay. We can stay here all night.”

And that you did. You cowered under the grand piano in his parlor all night long. That was the first time you ever cuddled with a boy, only he was a man almost twice your age. But that didn’t bother you. And it seemed not to bother him. He let you hold onto him through the night and squeeze him a little harder when you heard thunder. It has been one of your most precious memories of your piano teacher.

You had always known Anakin could be a little jealous. Any time you would mention your school friends the air would get tense, as if he didn’t want you to have anyone else in your life but him. He never said that, but he didn’t have to. There was always rage somewhere beneath the still blueness of his eyes, but his rage was never directed towards you until you told him that Drew wanted you to be his girlfriend.

You were seventeen. And you were so excited to have your first boyfriend even if you weren’t in love with him. At least people might not tease you for still being a virgin because it wouldn’t be so obvious. Anakin never did make fun of you for your innocence. He always said that it’s okay to wait until you’re ready or for the right person.

Immediately after you share the news of your official relationship with Drew, he freezes and closes the lid to the piano keys.

His jaw is tight. His voice is tense. “Maybe... we should be done for today.” He doesn’t even acknowledge what you said, as if he’s afraid to.

But you have no one else to celebrate with. Drew is a secret you keep from them because he’s not involved in church. “Did you hear me?” you press.

He grinds his teeth hard, and you hear bone against bone. Anakin nods. “I did.”

You nudge his arm. “Well?”

“Well what?” he snaps bitterly. He turns slightly to glare at you. “You know how I feel ab—about him.”

You roll your eyes. Anakin is a dramatic guy sometimes. “Drew isn’t that bad. He can be sweet. And he’s going to take me to prom!”

Anakin rises off the piano bench and pats down his black slacks. “So, you don’t care what I think then?” He’s staring down upon you with overwhelming disapproval. The muscles of his arms bulge when he crosses them over his chest.

Palms against the leather cushion, you hold yourself up. You notice yourself trembling when you realize that he’s not teasing you. He’s very upset... with you. Why would he be—does this mean—does he feel something after all?

“Of course, I do, Mr. Skywalker.”

“I told you not to get close with him!” he shouts. You’ve never heard him raise his voice at you. “He has bad intentions. He’s just a dumb kid. What does he know about loving you?”

You start to sob. “I’m sorry. I thought you might be... happy for me?”

He scoffs. And it sounds like you disgust him right now. “I don’t want to hear about him ever again. I don’t want to know anything about your little boyfriend. Do. You. Understand?”

Having him speak to you that way made you feel like a little girl. And you hated that feeling more than anything else. You knew that you were innocent, and you hated yourself for it because it made you feel inadequate to love the man you really wanted.

But now you’d do anything to have that innocence again. You didn’t realize at the time how free you once were. Growing up was harder than you thought it would be. It almost broke you.

You were lucky to have someone like Anakin to build you back up again, even if he was the one that tore you down that time.

After he yelled at you, you rushed out of his home as quickly as you could. The silence lasted a day. And then he drove to your house and knocked on your door. He held in his hands a bouquet of white roses and on his lips was the apology you were waiting for.

Nothing changed between you after that. Until your next birthday came around.

Up to your eighteenth birthday, your interactions were mostly harmless. But when you turned eighteen, an official adult, the tension between you had changed. The energies you both entertained shifted and became... dare you say... sexual to a degree. Anakin seemed to treat you a little differently now that you were fair game.

To celebrate your eighteenth birthday, he was there. In fact, he was the only one you insisted that mother invite. Not Drew or any of your school friends. Just Anakin. And he had to be there because he really was your one true friend. You couldn’t imagine celebrating your birthday without him. He was always a guest at your birthday parties, but he gave you a special gift this year, one so unforgettable that sometimes you hear it clear as day.

Anakin wrote you a piano solo. One that was simple, sweet, and addicting. You told him to play it again and again. After cake and presents, you made him teach you how to play it. You were very proficient now, and often could play things just by hearing them once. But the chords he chose for your song were unique and shouldn’t have meshed so well together. But they did. Just like you and him. Unlikely friends. Star-crossed lovers in your head.

The two of you stayed at the piano all evening, messing around with the song. By the end, you both had figured out how to layer the notes and chords in an even more perfect duet. Playing piano with him was almost the best birthday gift in the world to you. But it was not what you wished for.

You wished for a kiss.

But that would mean you’d have to tell him how you felt. And you were terrified. As an adult, now you could. It was more empowering than you thought it could be.

But you never did find a chance to tell me on your birthday. You were too afraid to ruin your night with a love confession. You know he would do the right thing and reject you, but that didn’t stop you from dreaming for the impossible.

When you walked him outside to his car—you insisted—your secret birthday wish came true. Not in the way you expected. But a kiss did happen. Your piano teacher kissed you on the cheek. Your face burned the whole night through. You couldn’t sleep because you wanted to know what it meant. He had never used his lips to touch any part of you before.

Physical contact had always been an important part of your bond with Anakin since the beginning. There were always the hugs that lasted just a little too long. And he seemed to always find an excuse to hold your hand. But he was your piano teacher, and the hand-to-hand contact always felt necessary and never strange.

But following your very special birthday, you found him staring at you a little longer, a little more deeply, and he seemed to always find an excuse to touch you, not in a sexual way but in a way that led you to believe the attraction wasn’t one sided.

He’d tuck your hair behind your ears, brush the side of your arm, and sit impossibly close to you that you swore you could almost hear his heartbeat. Anakin had never been hesitant to touch you before, but if there were any boundaries before, they were forgotten by him. And you enjoyed it. His new attention made you feel special and wanted. And that was all you ever wanted.

You began to touch him too. And seek physical attention from him. You would nuzzle his arm. Slip your fingers between his. Tap your shoes against his. He’d always notice, and he always hugged you or kissed your cheek in response.

You two were getting closer than ever before. Sometimes... you would barely touch the keys, getting lost in conversation. At this point, Drew and any other boy you were interested in before might as well have been dead. There was only room in your heart for Anakin.

And you had discovered a way to tell him without using your fragile words.

You sit on the bench waiting for him to get off the phone with his mother. She called him shortly after he let you in. About ten minutes later, he comes back.

“Sorry. I was worried she was in trouble,” he says, taking his spot beside you. “Now, where were we last week?”

“We... didn’t really go over anything.”

He bites into his full lower lip with a mischievous look in his eyes. “What are you paying me for then?”

You laugh because you’ve never once paid him for his time. You nudge his thigh with yours. “Honestly, I don’t really think there’s much more you could teach me.”

He raises a brow. “Oh really?”

You nod. “Actually, I’ve been writing something for you.”

His jaw lowers, and his mouth hangs open slightly. “How long have you kept this secret?”

“Since my birthday.”

He slips his arm around your back and rests his hand on your hip. “I’m impressed. Show me?”

You gulp heavily. That had been the plan today. It is ready for him. He’d never judge you even if it were bad. But you know that it’s not. You know that he’ll know what this piece means. He knows you too well. He’s too perceptive of everything. You wrote it in his favorite key, C minor.

With your hands a little shaky, your fingers glide softly across the piano and press down powerfully in chords. Through music, you profess your love. Anakin sits beside you and waits for you to finish. When you do, he’s waiting, staring with tears thickening his dark eyelashes. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t say anything, but you know... he knows how you feel.

You tug on his shirt, drawing him closer. A war of heart and mind reflects on his face. He’s doubting what he wants. His resistance is half-hearted. It isn’t long before he scoops you up in his arms and kisses you. This time his mouth is on your lips, wetting them, and tugging them apart to fill you with his tongue.

Drew was never this good. His mouth was sloppy and tight. Anakin kisses like he’s done this a thousand times before. And he kisses like he wants you. Like he’s wanted you for such a long time, despite how wrong you both know that is.

He holds you down in his lap, and you hug him tightly, carding your fingers through his dreamy hair. You start to feel lightheaded because you haven’t been able to breathe, but you don’t want to stop him. If you stop him, he might think and realize that he doesn’t want you anymore.

But you’re dying. Turning blue. You tap his shoulder. And he stops devouring you. His lips sparkle when he smiles. “Too much for you, baby?”

You sharply inhale, finally catching your breath. You shake your head. You want more. You need it. More isn’t even enough.

You spend the whole lesson entangled with one another until your mother comes to pick you up.

For the next month, that’s all you did. Kiss and kiss and kiss. Breathe and breathe and breathe. And kiss some more. You wondered why he was waiting to take you to his bed. You wanted that with him, but he never asked you to go that far. He seemed afraid. Even when his affection was overflowing in passion as you always knew it would be, it was clear that he was holding himself back. Did he need you to tell him what to do?

Your make out sessions extended beyond just your lesson time. Whenever he would come over to your house, he would go upstairs with you to your bedroom, and you’d end up tangled in the sheets. Though with every item of clothing on. Your parents never suspected anything was happening to their young, virtuous daughter. They trusted him completely. And so did you. You would have done anything he asked of you no matter the risks.

Even at church, he’d find a way to get you alone. In the girl’s bathroom. During the preacher’s sermon.

Anakin lifts you onto the sink and spreads your legs out so that he can fit between them and get close to you. Thumb under your chin, he tilts your face up to his. He grins before going in for a kiss.

Your lavender baby doll dress rides up your thighs as he inches closer. He presses up against the crotch of your panties. The dampness is cold against your tender flesh. His erection only grows as the friction between you builds, your bodies rubbing against each other in a clothed attempt to satisfy yourselves sexually.

And now you’re glad you waited and didn’t mess around with Drew like he wanted when you were together. Because that means Anakin could be your very first.

He freezes up when you try to unbuckle his big belt. Anakin looks at you strangely, almost disturbed by your actions.

You lean to his ear and whisper, “I. Want. It.” You had thought your seductive voice would be enough to cast him off the edge of all hesitation, that he’d bend to your will and give you what you want.

But all you did was kill the fire.

Head shaking, he backs away. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

And you didn’t see him for nearly a month after that. But you don’t regret what you said. You were tired of just endless make out sessions. It seemed so immature, and you knew you were ready for something real.

All of those memories, those beautiful capsules of your favorite times with Anakin, are the reason you find yourself on his doorstep, a quarter till midnight in the pouring rain.

Complete desperation.

You took your moms car without permission just to drive over despite the threat of a storm. And you’re still deathly afraid of them. But you came anyway. Because tomorrow, you’re leaving for college. You might not get another chance to fix things. Death would be better than living another moment without him.

“You haven’t been answering my texts or my calls, Anakin.”

The door is barely cracked open, just enough that you can see his pale face. Dark circles surround his rainy eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he mutters, not even making eye contact.

Thunder echoes behind you. The wind blows your hair around. Leaves rustle, filling the silence between you both. It’s going to storm soon. You had been stupid enough to drive to his house just before a storm. But you couldn’t take not knowing what had happened to him and why he was dodging your calls.

The eyes that used to linger a little too long won’t acknowledge you even as you stand in front of him.

“Why are you being like this? This isn’t you!” you nearly scream. You’re so afraid that he’s not only pushing you away but also ejecting you from his life completely, as if the memories you share can be erased. He’s engrained in almost every memory you have.

“It can’t happen. Go away.”

He tries to close the door on you, but you stick the toe of your right shoe in the crack before it shuts.

“Please… please don’t do this.”

Anakin’s eyes are bloodshot as if he’s been crying. “What I want isn’t right. I can’t do it. I don’t know if I could live with myself after.”

Does he really hate me so much? Is that the truth? Perhaps it’s your naivety, but you won’t let him go so easily. You have suffered in silence for nearly a decade, pining after him, waiting for him to reciprocate the depth of your feelings. Your hands shake as you reach out to him. If he would just… hold your hand like he used to, then maybe everything would be alright.

Your fingertips brush against each other. You feel the spark instantly, and it travels down your spine, leaving you wanting to touch him more.

“What about what I want?”

Anakin blinks several times before he speaks. It’s as if he didn’t consider your feelings in this decision. “You’re… not in a position to see things clearly. You’re—”

“Don’t say it!” you exclaim, squeezing your fists. “I’m not a child. I’m all grown up. And you know it. You see it.”

Anakin sighs a long time, his eyes scanning down your body. “Of course, I see it. But that doesn’t make it okay.”

Though you can never overpower him, you still try to force the door open. “Just let me in. We can talk. Just let me talk to you.”

Anakin’s frown is firm, and his stillness enforces that he’s not backing down. “I don’t know. If I let you in… if you cry… I’ll want to hold you. Then things might happen. I don’t know if I can control myself around you.”

Hugging yourself, you gaze upwards, into eyes that finally meet yours. His eyes reveal his mourning, his grief, his lust. It’s the latter that sends shivers through your body. The knowing that he wants you is more than you can take.

“I don’t want you to.”

There.

You said it.

You have told him exactly what you want. And if you hadn’t made it painfully obvious before, he knows now that you’re no longer thinking like a little girl.

Following a sigh of defeat, he backs away from the door, and you move in.

All the lights are off in his home. He must have been sitting in the dark like a vampire. The piano lid is open. He never left it open unless he was actively playing.

Anakin strides across the room to seat himself on the piano bench. He taps the spot next to him. “You’re right.... We should talk. Talk. Nothing more.”

Sitting beside him here feels like the most natural thing in the world. Here, you’re not afraid to speak from the heart. He’d never judge you even if he disagrees. But you’re not so sure he disagrees this time.

He wants you too.

“I couldn’t let you go back. I can’t believe you drove in the rain.”

You shrug. “It’s just rain. The storm hasn’t—”

The windows flash like they would in a horror flick, and thunder comes after. With a whimper, you grab onto his arm.

“I can drive you back home once we talk,” he says emotionlessly, gently pulling you off him.

But you double down and grab his arm, tugging him back again. “Don’t push me away.”

He doesn’t do it again. He stills. And sighs. “That’s the last thing that I want to do.”

With your chin resting on his sleeve, you look up at him, wide-eyed. “Just kiss me like you always do. And don’t think about it.” You stretch your arm out and fiddle with the top button of his dress shirt. “I’m not thinking.”

His chest rises and falls with his breaths. He doesn’t stop you as you unbutton his shirt.

When you rise on your knees, you’re at eye level. He’s so much bigger than you even now. He makes you feel so small. Holding onto his arm, you lean close and peck his clean-shaven cheek. He winces as if you pricked him with a needle.

“Angel, I shouldn’t.”

You kiss him again, closer to his lips, almost tasting him. “It’s me. Don’t you want me?”

Finally, he turns and looks in your eyes. Then at your mouth. “Don’t tell anyone. You... understand how this might look. What they might say about—”

“I’m good at keeping secrets,” you whisper. “What’s one more?”

You finish unbuttoning his shirt for him. Taking care of him feels good. You run your fingertips down his chest and his abdomen. His bare skin. It’s soft and warm. Suddenly, he grabs your wrist.

“Cold hands,” he murmurs. He takes your hands between them. He rubs his hands over your fast to warm them with friction.

“Sorry.”

Still rubbing your hands, he stands and leads you to the back of his grand piano near the flashing window.

Any other time, you would be trembling in fear because of the loud storm, but tonight you’re trembling because of the new feelings bubbling inside you. You’ve never been so aroused before.

“Can I hold you?” he says as pulls you into his embrace.

You can hear his steady heartbeat and feel it pumping right against your sensitive ear. Your piano teacher holds you against him and tangles his talented fingers in your hair. He sniffs your neck before taking a bite. His teeth pinch your flesh, and his tongue soothes you. The pain he leaves in several spots along your neck means that he’s marked you as his.

Your own heart is racing at lightning speed. You can’t think. In his arms, you’re helpless to his whims. You need him to tell you what to do. All you want is to please him.

“I’ll do anything,” you whisper to him so weakly you question if he hears you.

Anakin slowly unzips the back of your dress. “Consider this a teaching moment.” His voice doesn’t sound like it usually does. The undertones are sultry and possessive. “I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to—” He stops to pull down your dress, and his eyes wander over your pretty body. You wore transparent lace underwear and a matching bralette. He can see everything you hide from the rest of the world.

And he tells you, “You’re perfection.”

That makes you want to kiss him so badly. You try to lift yourself to reach his lips, but he’s too tall.

“Be patient,” he chides. “I want you to lay down first.” He guides you under the piano.

You lie down on your back atop the giant rug. Instantly, relaxation takes over as you remember all the times you used to lie here with him, hiding from the storm. Never did you think this would be the place where you’d give yourself to him. This must be meant to be.

He follows you after fully undressing. His body is every inch a man’s. His size makes you feel so small. He runs the risk of crushing you with his weight.

Lying on his side, he looks down at you, watching his own fingers running under the elastic of your lacy panties. “Take these off and spread your legs.” He whispers kisses to your cheek. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Nodding, you do as you’re told and wiggle out of your underwear. He snatches them from you and crunches them in his hands before throwing them over his shoulder. You proceed with fanning your legs open. The air is frigid as it touches you.

Anakin is looking where no one else has. “I’m so proud of you for waiting. Saving yourself just for me.”

You gasp as he kisses you between your legs. He kisses you there for a long time. It feels strange and wonderful. The feeling building inside you makes you moan and your toes curl. You feel so good your body aches. You hear your own heartbeat. You breathe but can’t find relief. Nothing soothes the need inside you but his mouth, his lips, his tongue. And before long you hit the breaking point, pleasure storming through your body from your place beneath him. Your cries are dampened by the thunderous sounds outside, but he hears you. He stops to look at your face. Making eye contact with him heightens the vulnerability of the situation. The intense way he looks at you burns. He notices every little change in your expression.

Anakin knows he made you feel good, but he still asks, “Did you like that?” He brushes the wild strands of hair away from your face. You know you’re precious to him. He sweetly kisses your forehead. “I like your taste.”

Your cheeks are seared by that comment. You cover your eyes, not wanting to let him see how he’s affecting you. “I did like it.”

“Do you want to do more?” He kisses your lips this time, and you taste yourself. “I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready.”

“I am ready!” you lift your head up and cup his cheek. “Don’t make me wait longer. I’m leaving tomorrow.” You bite your lip, knowing how dangerous what you’re about to say is because of who you’re saying it to. “Do you really want some college guy to be the one who gets me first?”

As if trying to reject the image you gave his mind, he closes his eyes and tightens his jaw. “No,” is his short answer. From the way his lips are pressed together, you know he wants to say more, but he’s saving you from his own selfish anger.

“Me either.” You rub his cheek with your thumb. “Anakin,” it feels right to call him by his first name instead of Mr. Skywalker, “I’ve waited for you. I always knew this would happen.”

He chuckles lightly. “I never gave you permission to use my name. Don’t forget—” he grunts as he slides two of his fingers between your slick folds and pushes them inside, “your manners, young one.”

These same fingers were the ones that rested atop yours when you were first learning to play piano. They pointed to the right key when you played the wrong note. They pointed to the sheet music to guide you along for all these years. They held your hands when they were cold.

And now he’s using them to teach you something new. But he’s just as skilled at fingering you as he is with music. You’re like his new instrument. He’s plucking all the right strings in just the right way to make you cry out for him. With your body pliant, he controls when you come. He doesn’t make you wait for it. He uses his thumb too and nudges until you come. It’s wetter than the last. And he instructs you to lick his fingers off when he’s done.

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks again. “Don’t hate me for asking.” He hangs his head a little.

What he doesn’t understand is how insatiable he’s caused you to be. There were so many times you thought you might explode from how desperately you wanted him. But now it’s okay if that does happen.

“Keep going. Please,” you beg. You’re not ready to stop. You’ve waited for this moment since you were fourteen years old. If it were up to you, you’d live here forever.

“If that’s what you really want,” Anakin moves from lying at your side to settling himself between your legs.

“It is,” you reassure him. Holding onto his neck, you pull yourself up a bit. “Can you kiss me too?”

He grins before pushing you down, his large hand spread out over your soft stomach, and he chases your lips as you fall. You’re partially distracted by his mouth as his cock slides inside you. You had expected it to be more of a challenge, all things considered. Throughout high school, your friends always complained about how much it hurt their first time. Some girls bled too. And that had scared you, which is one of the reasons you never took Drew up on his many offers of a “good time.” Deep down you knew he wouldn’t treat you right. But Anakin clearly is experienced with having sex. Maybe he wasn’t as alone as you thought he had been all those years.

This being your very first time, it does sting when he fills you completely, his bony hips pressed against yours. You feel the tightness and the stretch. But you enjoy how it feels. You’re so close to passing out just because this is as close as you can get to someone.

Anakin rocks in and out slowly. Maybe he can feel that you’re tired. He’s being gentle with you despite how much he wants to rail your cunt to shreds. You can tell when he’s holding himself back. He has that weary, pained look in his rainy eyes. A part of you wants to tell him that it’s okay. Let go. But you both know that you couldn’t handle the full extent of his lust.

“Can I come inside you?” he asks before sinking his teeth into a bruise along your neck.

Short of breath, you answer, “I said... anything.”

“Okay,” his shaky voice whispers. He buries his face into the curve of your neck and moans your name into your skin. He pulls your hair gently as he finishes, his heat spreading through your core. It’s so much that you feel it leaking out.

After, he holds you there all night long. He doesn’t let you leave. And you wouldn’t want to escape.

The three words he says to you as you leave his house the morning after, you realize that he’s lied to you all the years you’ve known him.

The piano isn’t his only love or his only obsession.

It’s an outlet, and yet a mask for his sin nature which you understand more deeply than any other girl ever will.

He’s kept his real obsession hidden from everyone but you.

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 3 months

Note

Hey

you can write an hsc in which a just-born baby cried when he saw his father (for everyone) (Bayverse)

Thanks you

Your Baby Cries When They First Meet Him (Fluff)

Bayverse!Turtles x reader

A/N: Of course I can! Any excuse to bring my Bayverse OCs into play💙❤️💜🧡

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Warning: Cute toddlers and crying babies💚

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Leonardo:

Leonardo sat on a stool in the kitchen, his fingers strumming against the table beside him, all while Casey and Vern came with friendly words, trying to calm the terrapin down. Leo’s blue eyes were filled with anxiety as he glanced nervously at the closed door, behind which you were in the process of giving birth to your third child.

Raph, Mikey, and Splinter were engaged in a lively game with Leo's other two sons, Romeo and Marcello, trying to distract them from the tension in the air. Leo's leg jumped restlessly as he watched them, his mind racing with thoughts of you and the new baby, hoping that the two of you were going to be okay.

After what felt like an eternity, the door swung open, and a weary-looking Donatello, and a just as tired April emerged. Leo practically leapt towards him, his expression desperate for news.

"How is she? How's the baby?", Leo asked in a rush, barely giving Donnie a chance to respond.

Donatello offered a reassuring yet tired smile. "Everything went smoothly, Leo. You have a healthy baby boy". Leo's shoulders sagged in relief, and he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "You can go in now. They're waiting for you".

Leo nodded his gratitude and entered the room alone, his sons still busy playing with their uncles and grandfather. Inside, you were propped up on the bed, a tired but content smile on your face. In your arms, a tiny bundle of blankets squirmed, a pair of small green hands just visible from where Leo stood.

Leo's eyes softened as he approached, taking in the sight of you and the newborn. "Hey," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

You smiled at him, holding out the baby. "Meet Gerardo, our little ninja". Leo carefully cradled the newborn in his arms, his heart swelling with love at the sight.

But as soon as Gerardo's blue eyes met Leo's, the baby let out a tiny cry. Leo's eyes widened, and he exchanged a bewildered look with you. "Did I do something wrong?", he asked, panic evident in his voice.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "No, Leo. He's just getting to know you. It's a big, new world for him. Don’t you remember how much Marcello used to cry?"

Leo relaxed, relief flooding over him. He then turned his attention back to the small crying baby in his arm, doing what he had done for the past six years, after the birth of his first son. “Hey, little guy. Shhhh, don’t worry. It’s okay. Daddy’s here”.

“Mommy? Daddy?”, Romeo’s small voice sounded in the doorway. Him and Marcello stood with their big eyes looking at you. “Can we come and say hi?”

“Of course you can”, Leo said, before crouching down to their hight, with the now calm baby in his arms. “Boys, say hello to you baby brother”.

Raphael:

Raphael paced nervously outside the door of the Needle Room, where you had just given birth to your third child. The air was thick with tension as he awaited the news. Inside, you were recovering with a tired but radiant smile on your face, cradling the newest addition to your family - a baby boy named Ragnar. The room was filled with warmth and the soft murmur of voices as your two daughters, Joan and Mini, eagerly awaited their turn to meet their baby brother.

The door creaked open, and Raph was the first to burst in, his heart pounding with a mixture of joy and trepidation. Joan and Mini followed closely behind him, their eyes wide with curiosity.

Raph's gaze immediately found yours, and a wide grin spread across his face. He couldn't help but admire the strength and beauty he saw in you, a mother who had just brought a new life into the world.

"Hey, babe", he whispered, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

As he pulled back, his eyes shifted to Ragnar, who lay peacefully in your arms. Joan and Mini, standing at the foot of the bed, were eager to meet their baby brother.

"Come on, you two", Raphael beckoned, a proud smile on his face. "Meet your little brother".

Joan, the elder sister, stepped forward first. Her eyes widened with amazement as she gazed at the tiny bundle in your arms. "Wow, mom, he's so small!"

Mini, the younger and more energetic one, couldn't contain her excitement. She bounced on her toes, trying to get a better look. "Can I hold him, mom? Can I?"

You chuckled, letting Joan crawl up on to the bed, letting her hold him with a mix of awe and responsibility. Mini eagerly crawled up on the bed too, hovered over her sister, eager to be a part of the excitement.

Raphael watched the scene unfold with a proud and loving heart. His gaze flickered from you to the children, and a feeling of completeness washed over him.

With a tender smile, he turned back to you, leaning in for another kiss. But just as his lips touched yours, Ragnar stirred, and then the inevitable happened - the newborn let out a tiny, discontented cry.

Raphael pulled away, his eyes widening in surprise. "Whoa, little guy, what's wrong?"

Joan and Mini exchanged worried glances as they held their baby brother, trying to comfort him.

You chuckled softly. "Looks like he's not a fan of PDA, Raph".

Raphael scratched the back of his head, a sheepish grin on his face. "Guess I'll have to work on my timing".

The room filled with laughter as Ragnar's cries were quickly replaced by the soothing reassurances of his family. Raphael, now holding Ragnar in his large, strong arms, softly humming him to sleep.

Donatello:

Normally Donatello would be in charge of anything medical, but when it came to the birth of his own children, he was too nervous. There April and Splinter were the ones in the Needle Room with you, helping you through the birth.

Donatello was not only concerned for you but also for his firstborn, 5 year old Galileo, who continuously looked towards the closed door, wondering when you’ll be able to come out again.

But thankfully it was a successful birth. You were cleaned up by April and brought extra pillows and blankets by Splinter.

As the door swung open, revealing the bed where you lay with Dorothy and Marie in your arms, Gali rushed forward, his eyes shining with excitement.

"They're beautiful, Mommy!", he exclaimed, his little face lit up with joy.

Donnie couldn't hide his own beaming smile as he gazed at the four most important people in his life. Splinter stood by, his presence a calming influence in the room, placing a comforting hand on Donnie’s shoulder.

"Can I sit with Mommy and one of the babies?", Gali asked, looking up at Splinter and Donnie with hopeful eyes.

Splinter nodded, a kind smile on his face. "Of course, my child. Go ahead".

Gali carefully climbed onto the bed with the help of his grandfather, settling on one side with you and one of the twins, Dorothy. Donnie moved to pick up the other baby, Marie, gently cradling her in his arms. But as soon as Marie left the comfort of your arms, she let out a soft, discontented cry. Donnie's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and concern washing over him.

"Is she okay?", he asked, his voice filled with worry. He didn’t recall Gali crying when he picked him up the first time.

April, who was nearby, reassured him, "It's normal, Donnie. Babies often cry when they're moved. She just needs a little time to adjust".

Donnie nodded, his nervousness slowly giving way to understanding. He cradled Marie close, whispering soothing words to her. Galil, on the other side of the bed, looked up at you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"It's okay, little one", you reassured Marie, your voice gentle, your reaching up in order to hold her small one. "Daddy’s got you".

Donatello continued to comfort Marie, his gentle touch and soothing words eventually calming her cries. Gali watched in awe as his father effortlessly handled the situation.

Soon, the room was filled with the sounds of a contented family. Gali sat proudly beside you, one arm wrapped around his sister, and Donnie cradled Marie in his arms, a sense of peace and content settling over the room.

Michelangelo:

The lair echoed with a mix of excitement and nervous energy. Michelangelo, usually the most carefree and energetic of the turtles, was pacing nervously outside the Needle Room where you were giving birth to your first child.

Inside the room, April and Donatello was guiding you through the birthing process while the other turtles hovered nervously around their brother, offering support in various ways. Leo comforted his little brother, reminding him how to calm himself down. "Come on, Mikey, you got this. Breath. Just breathe”.

As the minutes passed, Mikey's nervousness grew to the point where he felt a bit queasy. He had never been good with medical stuff, and the thought of something happening to you and the child made him want to throw up. Leo and Raph tried their best to distract him, but the worry remained etched on Mikey's face.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, April announced, "It's time!" The turtles rushed into the room, Mikey following hesitantly, his heart pounding so hard in his chest, it almost made it hard for him to walk.

The room was filled with the soft cries of the newborn, and a wave of relief washed over Michelangelo as he heard those precious sounds.

You cradled Sunny in your arms with a radiant smile. The turtles gathered around, taking turns peeking at the newest member of their family. Mikey, however, hung back, a mix of excitement and nerves written all over his face. He still had a hard time calming down.

Once the initial chaos settled, you beckoned him over. "Come meet your daughter, Mikey".

His eyes widened with awe as he approached, his nervousness replaced by an overwhelming sense of joy. Gently, you transferred Sunny into his arms. His gaze never left her tiny face as he held her close. For a moment, everything felt perfect. Mikey stared down at Sunny, his heart swelling with love. But then, unexpectedly, Sunny let out a tiny cry.

Mikey's eyes widened in surprise, and a look of panic crossed his face. "Did I do something wrong? Is she okay?", he stammered, glancing between Sunny and you.

April chuckled softly, reassuring him. "It's okay, Mikey. Babies often cry when they're getting used to being outside the cozy womb. It's perfectly normal".

His expression shifted from worry to relief, and he tentatively bounced Sunny in his arms, offering a tentative smile. "Hey, little dudette, it's just your cool dad. No need to cry. We're gonna have so much fun together!"

As if responding to his words, Sunny's cries began to subside, and she nestled into the warmth of Mikey's embrace. A wave of contentment washed over the room as the turtles shared in the joy of welcoming a new member into their unconventional family.

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christinebloodwrittings · 1 month

Text

To hunt or be hunted #2

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer

Summary: Strong statements from the "feared" king of hell, deadly oversights, cute duck-shaped cupcakes and the forgotten terror that lives beneath the hotel enjoying a certain demon's broadcast.

Warnings: Self loathing, a bit of a scare, nothing else I can think of.

Taglist: open...

The crowd, and 102 notes have spoken. Funny enough, things I consider drabbles blow up, and stuff that I like and post stays forgotten, anyways that's life. Feedback is always appreciated btw.

For the ppl that voted One-shot, my request box is open if you guys want to drop something Hazbin related.

Charlie had habilitated a back door for the kitchen, heading to the street, so that groceries and the kitchen supplies that you order could arrive unnoticed and would not bother her guests. Also for you to come and go as you may see fit without drawing, as she called it, ‘Unwanted attention’.

Of course she wasn’t thinking of the swarm of questions that may come your way, but more like if they found out, she would have to break the little image she had worked on all this years, the controlled, nice and loving princess everyone knew; to show a bit of the real menace she can be. She hated exercising her authority over others because of what happened with you, it felt wrong and invasive, so she never wanted to re-enter the same void she had fell through when her mother left.

She still used a more severe tone when addressing to you and her orders, or as she calls them ‘mandatory suggestions’, orders nonetheless, and when she asks you for what you’ve heard around town. She wants to keep up with what the people say about the hotel? Not entirely, she just likes gossip.

When either Angel Dust or Husk asked Charlie where did the food come from, she either said that she ordered it, or rely on the fact that sometimes Nifty cooked, per Alastor’s suggestion, but only when he wasn’t around to bring out the fact that she was lying.

Your ears perked up at some noise coming from the renovated parlor, usually it was just Alastor messing with the king of Hell, which made your eyes roll in annoyance given his lack of battle IQ, but the stubborn stag was mildly protected by the princess’s favor, without it, his head would hang on the king’s wall, probably as a coat rack. Now, that thought brought you a smile and a small laugh.

Later at night, when most demons were fast asleep, Angel Dust tiptoe his way inside the hotel, after a long session demanded by Valentino. He tried no to groan given the fatigue, and as he stretched backwards, making his back crack.

“What the fuck?” he muttered when a candle lit up on top of the new bar table, on top of it lied a plate with a medium rare cooked stake sided with homemade mash potatoes and some sauteed vegetables, next to it a glass of wine and silverware, along with a note that read:

“You failed to attend to dinner, saved you a plate. Enjoy”

He reluctantly took a bite, but after realizing that if it were spiked with anything he would’ve already died, given that drugs in hell had a fast effect when it comes to assassination, he enjoyed every last bit of it, making small moan sounds as he did. He also complimented the selection of the wine. You enjoyed the praises as you saw him eat.

As soon as he made his way back to his room, you took the plate and various items to give them a wash. The next day, Husk earned a kiss on the cheek without knowing what he did to deserve it.

It gave you a warm feeling in your chest when the guests liked your food, even more so when they expected anxiously what would it be for the next day, as you never really published the menu for the week, only the princess knew.

Given Angel’s constant praise, you started leaving protein shakes in his night stand before he woke up, always with a ‘Drink me for strength’ note, same with Vaggie when she started working out in the mornings. Charlie took your gesture and assured that she made them out of concern, which was well received by the rest, but not so much from her towards you.

“What did we talk about laying low?” she turned a bit demonic as she whispered harshly, “If you want to starve yourself to death, be my guest, but you made me the chef of the Hotel since day one, and no one inside this walls will die of malnourishment if I can help it” you well knew of the nasty habit the princess had towards food, by sometimes (often) forgetting to eat, or drive herself to an extent of stress, that she just dismissed breakfast or launch, even both on some occasions.

“Fine. On another subject, my dad will start living here, permanently. He’s Celiac, just so you know” Gluten allergy, that caught you off guard. You made a mental note to replace flours, rice and pastas into a non-glutinous option, same as your pastries for tea time from now on.

“About time you made peace with him” she shot you a warning look but didn’t correct you, “Yeah well, I’m happy about it, it took too long” for a while she felt that it was her fault for her parent’s split, as any child of divorce would begin to feel in the first period of the breakup. That feeling diminished, but hasn’t left her system entirely, no mater how much her girlfriend reassures her of the contrary.

“Arrange his room please, I left a few things lying around, but I have a session, so, can you handle it?” you nodded, satisfied with your answer, or rather lack thereof, she turned into her cheery self. “He left to pack up a few things from the castle, he’ll be back in a few hours, please don’t let him see you” with that last bit, she left the kitchen.

The king’s room wasn’t messy, Nifty wouldn’t allow it, so there were just a few items to place around, and a massive bed to put together, piece by piece no less. It was a Belphegor’s elite brand bed, no less, it had an insane amount of screws and parts, for someone known as the queen of Sloth, it took a serious amount of effort to put up with her products.

Took you two hours to set the whole thing up. Why did it take so long to put together a bed? because when you had it perfect, you noticed that you had three leftover screws, you weren't supposed to have leftover screws, so you disassembled it piece by piece until you found a place for the damn screws. The instructions were worse written than a menu in a Cantonese restaurant when the owner is obviously not Cantonese and wrote up the whole thing in google translate.

You took a big breath, satisfied with your work only when you put on the last blanket over the foot of the bed. “Weight blanket” you muttered with the fabric in between your fingers. Right in between the bedspread and the sheet there was a fairly heavy blanket, it lead to something obvious, two, either anxiety, or the king was missing his wife to the point he needed a weighted hug over him.

Your ears caught the sound of wings, he would arrive in no time.

You only had a millisecond to think, either run to the door and risk being seen, or put on the veil, jump out the window, but you were at penthouse level, that would probably leave you quadriplegic, on the other hand you transferred your tunnel system between the walls from the old hotel to the new one, you would just have to push the fake tile behind the bathroom door.

You ran out of time.

Still in your place, like a statue, you put the veil carefully over your body, this time without your eyes being able to be seen through.

The fallen angel dropped one single portfolio, the same blowing up into a swarm, no, a tsunami of rubber ducks, pieces of clothing, all ending up scattered all over the room, giving you an opportunity to make your way behind the bathroom door.

“Oh Charlie put together my bed? That ought to be a lot of work” he ended the sentence with a singsong tone before jumping onto the mattress. ‘That’s a shit ton of baloney, I bust my ass and the little devil gets credit for it? Fucking fantastic’ you mentally growled.

“Lily, if you could see her, she looks more like you every day” his voice cracked, “I wish…I wished I knew how to help. What could I possibly offer her? Advice? Experience? On what?! falling, being a constant disappointment? She did more things than you and I did in ten thousand years”

“I feel so useless” peeking over the door you saw the tiny king, wrapping himself in his six enormous wings. ‘Majestic’ you thought, after seeing millions of demons since you died, it was the first time you saw someone so beautiful. It made sense, he was indeed the prettiest angel God ever created, the best singer too.

How can someone like that, ethereal, could be troubled by things so…earth bound?

In an instant, he jumped out of bed, brushed up his hair a little, then walked out the door with the most fake smile you had ever seen. Boy you knew about fake smiles.

Later in the afternoon, around tea time, you changed up your regular flour for almond, it was definitely a different experience in terms of texture, but in terms of flavor, it could pass for regular flour, no one was going to notice.

Three types of cupcakes: Salted caramel, red velvet with vanilla stuffing, and cookie dough cupcakes shaped as ducky ones.

Alastor wasn’t a fan of sweets, so a mildly coffee infused cake with a caramel dressing with coarse salt on top, did the trick amazingly. Paired with a nice cup of Orange Pekoe tea to send him down memory lane. When you picked his plate up, there wasn’t a single crumb left.

The rest of the Hotel fancied your pastries, and loved sweets. Red velvet was a well-received classic, but it consisted of a vanilla flavored cake, and pair it with a filling of the same flavor might over do it. Instead, you added orange juice to the mix, the citrus smell with the sweet vanilla swirl on top were the sensation in the redemption session.

The only questionable thing about the mix was the berry tea that Charlie liked to drink during her sessions.

You baked small batches of cookie dough balls only a quarter of time, then poured the gluten free vanilla cupcake batter on top of it, keeping the cookie cooking at the bottom while you prepared the chocolate icing. When still warm you used a duck shaped scraper for the cake to take shape, then use the icing to make spikes, horns and little faces on them when it had cooled down a bit.

Why were you making special things for him? Pity? Empathy? Maybe both, but you were far too busy remembering the steps to the king’s room to bother.

All the ducks seemed organized, it definitely was the same mess, but perhaps there was some sense in his insanity. The plate was placed carefully in his night stand, along with a saucer and the tea cup filled with chamomile tea.

“Stop, freeze right there” you were about to place the hand written card when the distorted voice of the king froze your nerves in place, good thing that you were wearing the veil.

“Riddle me this, I’m connected to your every step, but I’m not your shoe. What am I?” he was near but stayed right in your blind spot, as he walked towards you. “Answer” his voiced sent chills down your spine, made your teeth sharpen as well as your claws, and your ears perk up defensively.

“You’re a shadow” your answer brought in him a subtle laugh, “Even through that shield of yours, dear, you cast a shadow, I saw a glimpse of it make it’s escape through the bathroom” was it that simple? Did anyone else in the Hotel had been as perceptive as him, no they would’ve ask Charlie or Alastor about it.

“So? How long have you been lurking in the Hotel?” walking past you, he brought up the tea cup to his lips, making a grimace, “Drink it, you look either sick, or worse, anemic, you’re three tones paler than your daughter” he shrugged, apparently aware of his state.

“I believe I asked you a question” his eyes shifted colors, just like Charlie’s, “None of your beeswax” you couldn’t tell him even if you wanted to, “I’m your King” the little heavy step he did was hilarious, but laughing would’ve get you killed.

“So what?” he widened his eyes at your boldness, dismissing it entirely after a laugh, “Mm, how about you answer my question and then I might consider letting you go?” his boot was on the edge on the veil, one move and he would see you, “How about you stop being a bull on me and enjoy my cookin’?” he took a moment to actually see the cupcakes, a tender smile drawn on his face.

When he looked back at where you where, all he saw was the veil falling gracefully to the ground, likewise it dissolved into the air.

“I fucked up” your heart throbbed painfully in your ear; the rush was real.

Your room was underneath the Hotel, a system of catacombs led to different fates to those stupid enough to enter, only you and the princess knew of the correct way. The space wide consisted of black brick walls, a twin size bed placed on the corner, a wooden wardrobe, the rustic eighteen hundreds themed bathroom, and a set of seven iron candle holders screwed to the wall.

“Good afternoon Hell!” Alastor’s voice became present through the radio you kept on your night stand, “I’m in a jolly mood on this occasion, a well baked pastry would put a smile on anyone, even in the crankiest demon in hell” he laughed, then continued on topics from a simpler time, then the screams of his new victim.

You rested your tachycardia on your bed, focusing on your breathing and Alastor’s voice, to make your heart slow down to a normal pace.

“Thank you for listening, it was a pleasure to entertain you. Now, a small request from a friend in between the walls, I hope you enjoy this one, dear” he placed the dusted vinyl on the player, allowing it to roll one of your most liked songs, Cuban Moon by Carl Fenton’s Orchestra.

Slang, jazz, the demoness that haunted Alastor’s brain was definitely from his timeline, probably the same state he lived in. But what really itched his brain, was the axe. “It’s an unorthodox method to kill someone, the blade loses its edge quickly and it would require a brutal force to cut through bones…unless” he pondered over an open binder with pieces of old newspaper that fell with him, parts of the news were about him, but the front page was about someone else.

The next day, Lucifer walked fast down the stairs, grabbed Charlie by her shoulders and demanded, “Who is she? The demon living in the walls?”.

Your note for Lucifer read the following: "Someone who swore to love you through sickness and health, and still left, is not worth your tears."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Baloney: same as nonsense or bullshit

None of your beeswax: Slang for 'none of your business'

Bull: Slang for police-man

Stay tuned ;3 Part 3

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sanguineterrain · 7 months

Note

sanne i know nothing about these men but… somehow i know you’ll do something so delicious with that little panicked reach for them (ready to catch them at all costs) if they trip ever so slightly + jason todd…. or dick if he fits better :] they’re vigilantes right like surely the reflexes are turned up to 11

ruby!!! hello my dear <3 i appreciate u sending a prompt for my newest brainrot :D makin me feel warm n fuzzy inside. short n sweet! thank u for the prompt :)

dick grayson x gn!reader. fluffy, reader trips for a second.

****

"...And I was telling her about this new coffee shop that had just opened, and she wants to bring her stupid boyfriend! Like, what is that about?"

Dick smiles as you walk backwards, cup of froyo in one hand, bag in the other. He's offered about a hundred times to carry both, but you refuse, insisting he needs to save his strength for patrol.

That had earned you a very unimpressed look.

"Not to play Devil's advocate, honey, but you also have a boyfriend—watch the pole!"

You dodge the telephone pole before you ram into it. The close call does nothing to discourage you from continuing to walk backwards. Dick shakes his head.

"Sure, fine, but you're actually fun to be around, Gray."

"I'm glad you think so, sweetheart, I really do try. Hot dog cart!"

You walk around said hot dog cart. Dick sighs at you, fondly exasperated.

"Can't I persuade you away from walking backward, dearest darlingest?"

"I'm practicing for my initiation into the Titans," you say. "Anyways. Where was I? Oh, yeah. If you met this guy, you'd get it. He has the personality of desk gum."

"Is that gum you keep in your desk, or..."

"It's the gum kids stick under school desks that you probably have to use a blowtorch to remove. And he acts just like that! You know he made her give up a—"

"Babe!"

Your next step is wrong as you cross a curb. The dip in the sidewalk makes you wobble backwards, and you squeal in surprise, froyo flying out of your hand.

You brace yourself to sit hard on your butt. Instead, a strong arm wraps around your waist and yanks you back to solid ground. Dick's other hand darts out and neatly catches your froyo cup.

"Are you okay?" Dick doesn't wait for your answer, herding you to a nearby table in front of a cafe. He sets everything on the table and takes your ankle in hand, rolling it experimentally.

"Dickie, I'm fine," you say, petting his head. "Just a stumble."

He huffs, then looks at you, hair falling into eyes.

"Now will you walk forward?"

"Only if you'll hold my hand," you say, wiggling your fingers.

"Is that supposed to be a bargain? I'm basically getting two things I want," Dick says with a grin.

He pulls you to your feet and hands you your froyo, but not your bag. When you reach for it, he tuts.

"Ah-ah. How will you hold my hand, then? Plus, you need at least one hand free to balance."

"You'll always catch me, though," you say.

Dick kisses your temple. "'Course I will. Still not getting your bag back. Let me be a gentleman, hm?"

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #...writing this is making me realize that dick is kinda steve harrington coded. lmao #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing x yn #nightwing fanfiction #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #inbox #blurb

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jakescakeislateforourdate · 2 months

Text

Stealing Kisses

(Actors from The Boys in the Boat)

Joe Rantz, Don Hume, Bobby Moch, George (Shorty) Hunt

tbitb masterlist

A collection of kissing scenes. Might write something for Chuck Day later, we’ll see, anyway, got carried away with Don, I would die for Bobby

Enjoy this garbage!

…

Joe Rantz:

Joe is a gentleman. He plans it’s out, wanting to take you on a decent date beforehand to set the mood and feel out just how much you like him. He doesn’t have money or a nice apartment or cooking skills for that matter. What he does have is his strength and his smarts.

So he takes you for a boat ride one sunny afternoon. He brings his guitar, opting for a little less country than the banjo, and paddles you out to a secluded spot. Despite his protest, you brought a basket full of treats and you talk as you share them under the hot sun.

His blond curls become waves of amber grain in the sunlight. After a while you fall into a comfortable silence which gives him the opportunity to pull out his guitar. Now he’s been planning this date for a little while so he picked some new songs to memorize. Sweet and romantic but not too lovey dovey. Though he doesn’t hide the fact that he loves country music.

As he strums his guitar he catches you intently staring at him. You look at him with so much affection that it makes him blush and stutter and he forget the words to his song.

“You’re cute, Joe.”

It makes him laugh so much he has to stop playing entirely. You tease him, enjoying his laughter.

After he recovers you both decide to venture out onto land. Wild flowers grow along the banks in great colorful bunches. Joe begins collection some, blue and purple and white and yellow, and he begins to weave them together.

It’s a special trick he learned while he lived alone, cutting and clearing trees for a living. During his breaks he taught himself to do this. The braid the delicate flower stems into bracelets and rings and crowns.

Joe makes the finest crown his has ever managed. He carefully lays the creation on your head and tucks away any loose strands of hair. ‘You’re gorgeous’ he wants to say. If he was a little more gutsy he would.

His hands trail down to cradle your cheeks. He’s not gutsy enough to tell you you’re pretty but for some reason he has the gall to lean down and kiss you.

His lips are a little chapped from rowing practices, the heavy breathing dropping his jaw and the wind biting his lips. But they’re gentle and sweet. Joe soaks up the private moment and rests his forehead on yours. He wraps his arms around your waist and sways back and forth with you. He starts singing again and you dance together in the afternoon sun.

Don Hume:

Let’s be honest here, you’re more likely to kiss him first. You simply make him too nervous to even find the coordination to plant his lips over yours.

After their first win, Don is dragged out to celebrate. Luckily his sweetheart of a few weeks now is already there. You’re happy to see Don out and about whether or not he likes it. Bobby flashes you a wink as he pushes Don into a chair next to you.

It’s too loud. You can’t hear a word the other says. In a blinding moment of courage, Don takes your hand and pulls you out of the hall. His calloused palm is sweaty. His fingers tremble between yours. You remember him first approaching you, Bobby pushing him forward and then abandoning him at your library table.

“Hey, you’re Don Hume right? From the rowing team, right?”

He nodded, swallowing hard.

“What can I do for you, Don?”

His tongue had gone dry. Where are his words? His mouth dropped open “I—” you smiled at him and it made everything worse.

“C’mon, Don!” You heard Bobby whisper shout, a collection of the rowing team has amassed behind a bookshelf, quietly cheering him on.

“Can-can I takeyouonadate?”

He panicked and cursed himself out, thinking he spoke too fast and you don’t catch what he said and now he’s going to have to ask all over again.

“I’d love to go on a date.” Your smile brightened and Don’s shoulders drooped in relief.

He still stutters asking you on dates now.

Don finds himself walking you across campus grounds and the pale light of the moon. “You did so good, Don, in your race.”

“Thanks.” He speaks so softly the whistle of the night breeze in the leaves is almost louder. He turns to you, catching your gaze first and then blushing and nervously glancing down at your lips.

He’s never kissed anyone before, but he thinks he wants to kiss you.

There’s a comfortable silence that fills the space between your faces. Don’s eyes keep flickering to your Cupid’s bow. To that perfect curve. He starts to say something but his words leave him again as he feels soft lips shutting his mouth.

His lips are rough, worn from the blustering winds. He smells faintly of sweat and the river water that sprays up from the churning oars.

Don can hardly think enough to kiss you back. He blinks, stunned and you lean in to kiss him again and again. He’s overwhelmed by the warmth of your lips and the velvet soft press of your tongue. His shaking hands clutch at your cheeks, trying to ensure that it doesn’t end.

“Don, baby—”

“Kiss me again, please.”

There’s a smile on your lips when you wrap your arms around him. “Only if you promise to dance with me.”

“Yes, yes, okay. Just…”

This time he kisses first.

Bobby Moch:

Bobby is a confident man. He maybe shorter than your average guy but his boldness makes up for it. But I also think you’d kiss him first.

You’re waiting for him to finish up practice, your routine being to go on a long walk and let Bobby blow off some steam before studying together and then going home. Bobby emerges from the shell house, clearly bothered, but he can’t help his smile when he sees you waiting on a bench with two warm cups of tea in your hand.

“Good evening, lovely, should we go to the library or the bridge?”

You hand him a cup and take his free hand. “I think… the library would be nice.”

“Me too.”

He squeezes your hand. He starts his rant and angrily blabbers on until you’re at the steps of the library. Somehow, between all his complaining, he’s managed to chug his whole cup of tea.

The library is fairly empty at this hour. Most students having given up on studying for the day and retired to either their dorms or gone off to work. Bobby drops his bag onto a secluded sofa and the two of you sit down for a nice, quiet study date.

While Bobby reads over his textbook chapter, you notice things about him. The wrinkle that forms on his forehead when he's focused. The tilt of his eyebrows. How his lips purse. You notice the tiny blemishes on his cheeks; they were once little nicks or pimples that he picked. You keep stealing glances of him. Absolutely fascinated by the way lamplight reflects off his skin or the curve of his jaw or the bob of his Adam's apple when he swallows. He hadn't really bothered to straighten out his hair after his shower and it's dried wild, tickling his face.

Bobby catches your gaze and it's stunning, how light pools in his eyes. How his irises brighten. His gives you an adoring look and returns to pouring over his textbook.

Then there's his lips. They look so soft and they're so gently rounded they look hand carved. Occasionally he'll lick his lips and you get a flash of tongue and white teeth. At some point you decide to just go for it. You've been dreaming of kissing Bobby for some time now but he's been content to let you take things at your own pace.

You reach of his textbook, "Need something?" Bobby asks genuinely. His gaze is uncharacteristically kind. He's always yelling at the top of his lungs or bossing around or saying something snappy. That's just Bobby. So why does he look at you like this? Like he's watching the sun rise.

"Yes, actually." And then you deliver a kiss to his lips. Bobby is caught off guard and before he can really even kiss you back, you're pulling away. "Sorry--"

"Don't even think about it." Bobby quips, "Get back here." He cups the juncture of your jaw and throat to bring you in but you hide in his palm. "Finish what you started. C'mon. Don't you feel like trying it again? I'm ready."

When your lips touch again Bobby is gentle in making it last. He never presses too hard but be doesn't let you shy away again either. He kisses you until the taste of him has stained your tongue and the oxygen is gone from your lungs.

George "Shorty" Hunt:

Sly dog, this one is.

George is highly tactical(he likes to think so) and because he’s so brilliant he hatched a perfect plan to get you to kiss him. He wants to see how bold you can be.

He makes three plans, two of which fail. They go like this. The first time he tries it, you’re walking him to practice. His jacket is slung over his shoulder and he’s telling you about his engineering class. “You know there’s this term we use called osculate which is where the curve of on surface meets the curve over another and they share a common tangent.” You raise a brow. Shorty licks his lips, “It’s also formal code for kissing.”

“Don’t even—” you swat at him and push him towards the shell house. “Go practice and share a tangent with Day!”

“Hey now,” Shorty pouts and disappears into the shell house, defeated. That was attempt 1. The second attempt hardly goes better.

It’s the night after their first win and Shorty is dancing with you. His nerdy pick up lines proved to be a failure so he goes for building some good old fashion romance. He’d gotten you flowers and taken you out for dinner before he brought you here where the music is so loud it blocks out everyone else around you.

Now you’re slow dancing, cheeks pressed together, hands laced with one another. The first thing you notice is that he smells good. You have no idea if he’s wearing cologne or if it’s the soap he uses to wash his clothes but he smells divine. The second thing is how soft his hands are despite the wear and tear of the pad. The third is that he didn’t put any product in his hair. You’ve always loved to play with the dark curls and fluff it up. But sometimes he styles his curls and the products make his hair stiff. But his curls are free today which tells you he’s been thinking about you and all the things you do.

“Watcha smilin’ about?” Shorty asks, his eyes light up as he smiles back. He hopes you’re thinking about it. He hopes you’re wanting to kiss him.

You plant your hands on his chest, “Nothing, you just make me happy.” It’s quite possibly quite possibly the nicest compliment he’s ever received. And then you rise up on your toes a place a kiss on his cheek. It’s not what he expected but he’s as pleased as ever.

The third and actually successful attempt is on the train before he leaves for Poughkeepsie. You’d arrived late and missed him boarding. You force your way to the train and look through the window. George sees you and throws the window open. “I was afraid you weren’t coming!” He shouts of the chatter. He’d actually been heartbroken.

“Had trouble getting here!”

“Can I…” you don’t catch what he says.

“What!”

Shorty smiles and shakes his head. He turns and gestures for something. He opens the window as far as he can and you see Chuck and Johnny behind him. And then George is falling out of the window. First his shoulders and chest and then his hips and your almost scream but Chuck and Johnny are holding his thighs. He wedges one hand on the window sill to support himself and the other reaches for you.

He pulls you as close as he can and gives you a kiss goodbye. “I’ll come home with a gold medal!” Don’t you worry!” The people who notice give him a cheer and a laugh as he’s pulled back into the train. He blows you one last kiss and then the train starts rolling.

tbitb masterlist

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this piece please be sure to check out my masterlist and if you want to request something you are more than welcome to. Have a nice day.

- the author

#joe rantz #joe rantz x reader #bobby moch #bobby moch x reader #boys in the boat #callum turner x reader #don hume #don hume x reader #George hunt

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