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#--the people who were brave enough to step up
thevanillerose · 2 days
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LEATHER | DABI x BLIND!READER | MY HERO ACADEMIA
~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.
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Coarse. Soft. Plush. Hard.
Your world was defined by these words. It always had been. Blind from birth, you were used to being steeped in darkness, but because you had never known anything different, it wasn't something that made you feel bad. If anything, you weren't sure why people felt so sorry for you. Why they would express such pity towards you when they found out about your affliction.
You were getting on just fine, right? So truly...there were people out there who were far more deserving of their well meant concerns than you were. You didn't need anyone to worry over you.
Perhaps the only thing you wished you could have sight for was to know what you looked like. Somehow your parents were a perfect image in your mind, it was as if you could envision them anyway, despite your own impairment. When it came to you personally though, well...you didn't have the faintest clue.
Were you ugly? Pretty? People always claimed it was the latter, but how were you to know if they were lying or not? There was truly no way of telling.
So that was maybe the one thing that did bother you. The rest of it though, you could deal with. You would be alright.
In fact, you were so brave with it that you would walk home alone at any time of night, no qualms about it. Sure, there had been talk of a mysterious killer on the loose lately, but the most you had heard were vague rumors that you strongly doubted held any actual water.
Like hell you were going to get scared!
Once again, you were out in the early hours. Your senses were always on max settings anyway, so if someone happened to be pursuing you, you would pick up on it in a split. However, it wasn't what lay behind you that you needed to worry about.
A few steps forward, and suddenly you bumped into something. Staggering backwards, you immediately registered that it was a person, and instantly doubled over into a respectful bow of apology. “Sorry! Excuse me...I didn't see you there...” It was quite amusing to use a line like that, given that it was rarely so literal.
The fellow turned and cast his piercing turquoise eyes upon you, observing you in silence. The air was immediately tense.
Dabi hadn't been expecting you to run into him out of nowhere. The streets were usually quiet at this time, he'd go looking for trouble in certain spots sure, but those were usually the obvious ones, like your sketchy backwater nightclubs and 'massage parlors'.
One look at you, and he was confused. “...What are you doing out here alone?”
Male...I figured. Judging by his voice...he's probably around my age...
 “I...I usually come out at any time, really. I was just picking up some supplies-”  You held up the plastic bag filled with goodies from the 24 hour mart. He stared at it for a moment, before letting his eyes flicker back to you again.  “It's dangerous.”
 “Well-” you lowered the bag and shrugged, “-I know that's what they say but...if I stayed inside just because I was scared, it would be like handing over control to whatever bad guys are out there. It would be like they were already winning.”
 He quirked a black brow. Interesting take.
 “...You're brave.”  You heard him take a few steps forward, around your side, behind you. Shuddering, you could sense his fingertips gliding ever so lightly against the back of your shoulder, across the nape of your neck and to your other arm.   “How do you know you've not just run into an enemy though?”
 Well now you were really wondering.    “...Because...you're standing out here on the pavement, right by the road. People like that usually lurk in the shadows...”  “It's dark enough out here though.” he stated, as he circled around to your front again, and you could sense him standing closer than before, “There's nobody else around...no cameras watching...just you and me. I could get away with anything.”
 Now the fear was setting in. He was certainly talking like a killer...so could he really be? You swallowed uneasily and tried to step around him, but his hand caught your side and pushed you back, prompting you to drop the bag as you jolted. Those cartons of chocolate milk you'd bought were scattered.
 “Please, I don't want any trouble!” you insisted, and he tilted his head.  “Maybe you should have watched where you were going. Maybe you shouldn't have been walking out alone at night.”  “I-I'm entitled to!”  “So am I.”
 “...You're the killer they've been talking about?”  “Maybe.”
 This was insane. Even you felt like you were being reckless now. However, you needed to find some way to excuse yourself or run from him. You'd worry about calling the police when you were somewhere safe.  Then again, what would you even tell them?
 “Look...I...if you let me go I won't say a word...” you promised, but he simply scoffed.  “Yes you will, don't lie. You're going to file a police report at the first chance you get.”  “No! No I won't because, because I wouldn't even be able to in the first place!”  “...And what is that supposed to mean? You've seen my face, my location, I basically admitted to you that I'm the killer. Of course you can file a report.”
 “...” Telling him this seemed like as much of a bad idea as a good one...but you would do it.
 “...I...I don't know what you look like. I can't see you.”  There was a long pause. Dabi stared at you, blinking a few times, before leaning in just a little bit.  “...Excuse me?”  “I-I said I can't see you. Because I'm blind.”
 That threw him for a total loop. He hadn't been expecting it. Though now that he really looked at you, he supposed that your eyes weren't really focusing on anything in particular, and they certainly weren't looking at him. So, well, he believed it.
 What now?
 “...Okay. So you're blind. I suppose that...removes the problem for me.”  “A-are you still going to kill me?” you dared to ask, and there was another frightening pause, before he sighed.  “...No...There's little point in it. Just another mess I'd have to clean up.”
 Instantly you were almost bowled over by a wave of relief.  “Th-thank you!” you gasped out, and quickly crouched down to find the items you'd dropped. Dabi watched you fumbling for a moment, your hand patting the ground as it tried to find what it was looking for.  
 He didn't quite know why. Perhaps there was just something tender about you, either way, he ended up crouching down to pick up the carton.
 At the very moment he reached out though, so too did you, and for a split second, your knuckles brushed.
 Instantly you recoiled and gasped. What you'd just touched, it was unexpected.  “What was that??”  “Hm? Oh right...you can't see it.” Dabi sighed and put the carton back in the bag but remained crouching there in front of you, examining his own hand. “...My skin isn't really what you'd call regular.”
 Admittedly, you were curious. He seemed to be behaving more calmly and rationally right now too. Would it really be so bad if you asked?
 “May I...touch it again?”    “Huh?” Dabi quickly looked at you, brow furrowing. “...Why?”  “Because I...I suppose I'm just curious. I won't if it bothers you...I've just...never felt anything like that before.”
What am I doing? What am I doing!? This guy's a killer!!   ...Why am I being nice to him?
 Perhaps the better question would have been vice versa. For Dabi actually conceded, brushing your hand with his again and allowing you to gently run your fingers up his wrist. You didn't even know his name, and yet you were crouched on the ground with him, caressing his arm and feeling how rough, tight the skin was...like it had been burned to a crisp.
 “...What happened to you?” you had to ask him, noticing there were hard staples plastered in there too, as if he were some zombie that had been stitched up. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you reached up with both hands this time, laying them gently against his cheeks and cupping his face.
 His jaw was much the same. It felt similar, like he was damaged. But you could tell his face wasn't unpleasant. He had a good structure, you could tell-  “What are you doing?”  His voice suddenly sounded, a little sternly so, and his hands took your wrists just to guide them down again. Hesitating, you lowered your head.
 “I'm sorry...I act a little rash sometimes...”  “...It's fine. I can tell.” he uttered, but he hadn't let you go just yet. “...But I think I'd rather know about you. How did you become blind?”
 This was such an odd situation to be in. Confessions on a dirty pavement, and confessions to a supposed killer no less. What if you said the wrong thing and he just ended you right here and now? This scarred man did seem to have a cold disposition...but for some reason...you wanted to open up to him anyway.
 “I didn't really 'become' blind, I've been like this from birth.” you explained, and though you couldn't see it of course, his eyes widened.  “...Oh?”
 “Yeah, so...hah...I don't even know what I look like. Sometimes I imagine I must be the scariest thing walking around out here.”
 Dabi's hands slowly slipped away, making you worry. He laid them in his own lap, and watched you. The concerned emotions flickering across your face, like you were suddenly fearful you'd admitted too much. You were obviously nervous around him, but it was like you didn't want to deter him either.
Is he really the killer? I want to run, and yet...I don't.
 His hand slowly extended towards you again. That unmistakable touch against the skin of your cheek, as he let it rest against your face. You could feel his thumb, gently rubbing in a circle. Your hammering heartbeat slowly calmed. You found yourself sinking against his palm.
 “You're a curious one. A bit of a weirdo.” he added, and cracked a smile you couldn't see. Maybe you somehow knew it was there regardless.
 “But...you're pretty too.”
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monstersflashlight · 4 months
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Imagining a night creature with a reader who's afraid of the dark
Hi! I like that. This made me think of the monster under the bed I answered a few days ago (find it here). Also, when you sent this I already had a semi-planned story with a girl in a dark street (find it here). But I also got some inspo for this. The idea of the reader being afraid of the dark and the monsters lurking there… What she doesn’t know is that the monsters there don’t want to hurt her, just tease her little human body. This is sweeter than I normally write, but I hope you like it!
Sleeping in the dark
Night monster x fem!reader || Stalking, overstimulation, forced orgasms
You were always afraid of the dark. You couldn’t remember a time in your life when you didn’t feel anxiety creeping in the back of your neck every time a street was too dark, your curtains a bit too closed… Some people laughed about it, saying you weren’t a kid anymore, a grown woman shouldn’t be scared of the dark. But you couldn’t fight your fears, it was beyond your control.
That’s why you got a little lamp, always turned on so you could sleep better. Just knowing you weren’t in complete darkness, even in your sleep, made you feel a bit better. But you weren’t a lucky person, so when you woke in the middle of the night and the lamp was turned off, your anxiety picked with full force. Tears ran down your face instantly, your breath coming in fast exhales, almost hyperventilating.
“Hey, hey. Calm down.” A voice came from inside your closet, making you scream as a dark figure opened the door and stepped out. “Shhh, stop! I’m not here to hurt you.” He tried, but you opened your mouth to scream again. He crossed the room in two fast steps and covered your mouth with a hand as big as your whole face. “I’m trying to help, but you need to stop screaming. Are you going to scream if I let go?” You shook your head, tears rolling down your face.
“Aw, little human, don’t cry.” He pleaded, his voice soft as you felt his weight sitting down on the bed. You moved away, scared.
“The- the dark. It’s so dark.” You hiccuped between sobs. “Can you turn on the lights?” You asked, already knowing his answer.
“The dark is okay. I like the dark. You aren’t ready to see me, yet.” He told you. You didn’t know if you wanted to see him either. You were scared enough, but his presence was weirdly calming.
“Who are you?” You asked then, equal parts scared and curious. He didn’t answer, silence making you wanna tear up again. “Am I dreaming?” You asked, more to yourself than to him.
“No, you are not.” He answered, his voice closer than you expected, like he was right next to you.
You jumped back, almost falling down. “Are you a monster?”
He sighed, like the weight of the world was over him. “Some call me that, yeah.”
“Are you going to hurt me?” You didn’t know why you asked, he could hurt you if he wanted, and you couldn’t do shit about it. But you felt calm, like his presence was okay. Some primal part inside of you trusted him, and as naive as it was, you did. You trusted the shadows in front of you, the dark figure that you couldn't even see.
“No, little human. I would never hurt you. But I can help you.” His voice was so soft that you relaxed completely, your body giving away all the tension, leaving you feeling dizzy.
That picked your interest. “Help me how?”
“I can distract you from the fear.” The innuendo on his voice was more than clear.
But you asked anyway: “Ho- how?” Your voice broke down as you tried to be brave, tried to make sense of the mixed feelings inside of you.
“Can I touch you, little human?” You nodded. You couldn’t see his face, but you guessed he could see yours if he told you not to cry. A hand touched your knee, traveling up and up. The flimsy dress you were wearing was put aside as his hand touched the hem of your panties. “Is this okay?” You nodded, speechless.
You couldn’t comprehend why you were so pliant to his touch, but you just knew. You knew he was telling the truth, he didn’t want to hurt you. He pulled your panties aside, exposing your pussy to the air. A shiver ran down your spine as his pointy fingers touched your clit.
“I saw you touch this tiny pearl so many times… You looked so happy when you did.” He told you, rubbing your clit in the exact same way you did. “I’ve been watching you for so long. I studied your every move.” He pushed a finger inside of you, curving it to hit the perfect place. “It pained me to see you touch yourself and not being able to help. To be the one giving you pleasure. But now… Now I can, little human.” The idea of him watching you jerk off making your pussy tingle, convulsing against the finger inside of you. “You like that? You like knowing I was watching? You are a little pervert.” He laughed softly. You blushed.
His fingers were so much longer than yours, almost as long as your biggest dildo, but not so thick. He finger fucked you for a bit, humming and cooing at your reactions. Like you were a cute puppy doing a new trick, amazed when you cried out and repeating the move over and over as you came.
When you calmed down, he asked: “Can I fuck you, little human?” His fingers were still inside of you, rubbing softly, not trying to fuck you, just resting inside.
“Yes.” You choked out as he took his fingers out and felt his weight setting over you. He positioned himself and started pushing in slowly. “You… It feels weird.” You whispered, he chuckled. “My dick is not like the human ones. I have… ridges.” He pushed further, the aforementioned ridges rubbing against your walls and making you moan. “Do they please you?” You tried to answer, but the only sound that escaped your lips was a broken moan. He took that as a yes and started fucking you, slow but deep.
It wasn’t enough. “Faster. Harder.” You pleaded. He complied, setting a fast pace that made your boobs bounce up and down, almost hitting your chin. His hands on your hips were going to bruise, but you didn’t care. He had the perfect dick, even better than the tentacle dildo you always used.
Before you knew it, you were falling apart around him, his dick twitching as he came, too. But he didn’t stop, his dick still hard inside of you. He waited for a few seconds and started fucking you again. You didn’t know how he could keep fucking, how his dick was still hard, but you wanted to thank whoever created him for giving him that stamina. He fucked you over and over, for what felt like hours.
After what felt like a hundred orgasms, maybe they were, your oversensitive clit felt raw. Your pussy felt used and abused, but the pleasure was still there, almost painful. He kept asking you to come again, to let him feel your pussy contracting around him. To let him fill you again. And again. And again.
“I can’t anymore. Please…” You begged. You came so many times you lost count.
“Just one more, little human. One more and I’ll stop.” He told you, his pace not flattering for even a second.
You felt tears running down your face. “I can’t.” You choked out, your body spent. But he kept going. He rubbed your clit furiously, using his come as lube. Your last orgasm was pushed out of you, he forced you to come around his dick, almost to the point of pain. You cried as you came, so sensitive and tired… He wiped the tears away as he buried himself deep and came again, adding to your overflowing pussy.
He pulled out slowly and disappeared. Appearing seconds later with a warm cloth to clean some of the mess between your thighs.
“Would you stay?” You whispered, grabbing around his wrist still cleaning you up.
“Sure thing, little human.” He whispered back, his body curling around yours two seconds later.
For the first time in your life, you slept in the dark, a monster guarding you.
Part 2 can be found here.
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writingouthere · 7 months
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exboyfriend!Sukuna x f!reader.
cw: smut, outdoor sex, angst, controlling behavior.
Your date was a disappointment.
The guy wasn't an asshole or anything, but at some point he'd talked about cryptocurrency for ten minutes straight without you saying a word and there was no coming back from that.
"I had a great time," he tells you as you stand on the subway platform after finally escaping the restaurant. You nod noncommittally and wonder if this is the part where he asks for your number. You're calculating the risk/reward of giving him a fake number and having him potentially call it while you're still right in front of him when you hear a familiar laugh from behind you.
"I doubt it," the voice says and you close your eyes. Maybe if you wish hard enough you can develop teleportation and not have to deal with this.
"I'm sorry, who are you?" your date asks, his voice only wavering a little as he looks at your ex-boyfriend. Honestly, you admire him. The sight of the tall, heavily tattooed (alleged) criminal was usually enough to make people cross the street to avoid him but not this accountant? Investment baker? Dentist? Fuck, he'd talked about his job for thirty minutes and you had not been listening. You would have guilty if you weren't actively judging him for not even noticing your lack of engagement.
Whatever, he probably wasn't brave, he was probably just an idiot.
Sukuna seemed to agree as he laughed again and put his hand on your shoulder.
"I'm her boyfriend."
Your date looked at him, looked at you, and seemed to be weighing if this was worth one mediocre date. He seemed frozen for a second until Sukuna took a step forward and the guy's previously dormant survival instincts seemed to awaken and he booked it down the train platform.
Once he was out of sight, you took Sukuna's hand and dropped it off your shoulder like a fallen leaf that had got stuck on your jacket.
"Are you following me, now?" You wouldn't have put it past him. You turn to face your ex who looks not only unrepentant for his little routine but vindicated. Or maybe he just looks vindictive, you can never tell.
"Are you going on dates with any loser that asks?" He tosses back and you roll your eyes.
"You didn't even meet him."
"So, he wasn't a loser? And you weren't deciding if it was worth giving him a fake number and having him call you right then?"
You hated that he knew you so well.
"He seemed the type to call," you concede and Sukuna scoffs.
"Absolutely, that fucker is. Women have been giving that dumb fuck fake numbers since he was begging for them with his little Nokia flip phone."
"Is Nokia still a thing?" you ask and Sukuna glares at you.
"Do I look like Google to you? Hey, don't try to district me, princess. We were talking about how you seem to have gotten it into your mind that you can cheat on me with any guy with a pulse."
"I'm not cheating on, we're not together," you tell him as your train pulls up. You don't bother protesting as he follows you on it, even though you know the old apartment you used to share is in the other direction from your new place.
"The fuck we're not," he seethes. The other riders look at you and you see one or two guys deciding if it's worth trying to get involved but you're more concerned about the teenage girl who looks ready to fight this asshole for you. God, you loved women.
"You're making a scene," you tell him and he looks ready to make the scene Oscar worthy before you give him the look that used to make him not call your friends' babies ugly when you went to birthday parties.
"Where can we talk then?"
"I'm not taking you to my place," you say and he sucks his teeth.
"Then let's go home."
"You mean to your home."
Sukuna looks furious but you're not in the mood. You had just spent the past two hours on a terrible date, which made you think about how dating was just going to be like this until you found a new boyfriend or gave up, which then made you think about your break up and how up until a few months ago, you thought you would never go on a first date with anyone ever again.
You hated that Sukuna had put you here and you hated that you still loved him.
"I'm not leaving until we talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about."
You're so tired, Sukuna is so close and it's been so long since you got to smell him or feel his warmth. Your apartment was still barely furnished but everything in it was new and it still didn't feel like home. The one sweatshirt of his you'd let yourself take had stopped carrying his scent weeks ago, and just being close to him now, it made something in you relax. Like you were finally home.
"There fucking is," he hisses and now he's so close you can make out the scar on his jaw and the fullness of his lips. You used to tease him that you'd never met a man whose lips were as soft as his. He may have looked like tough shit, but you would never catch him out of the house without lotion and chapstick.
You wondered if he was still using the cherry chapstick you had bought him at the grocery store the week before you'd broken up.
"Are you going to marry me? Are you going to give me a baby?"
"Princess-"
"Then there's nothing to talk about," you say and you thank whoever's watching that the train is pulling up to your stop. You get off and Sukuna is right on your heels.
"You don't even want those things right now, why the fuck does it even matter?"
"I want them eventually and if you're not willing to give them to me, then I just don't think I need to keep wasting my time."
You're roughly dragged into a nearby alley and tossed against a brick wall. Sukuna's hand cups the back of your head, taking the force of the slam and you hate that he watches out for you even when he's being a controlling jackass.
"Being with me is wasting your time? Who the fuck do you think you are?"
"Not your girlfriend," you snap back. "Let go, I want to go home."
"Fuck you," he tells you and you're about ready to fight him, grown scary man or not when he leans down and his lips are on yours.
They taste like cherry chapstick.
His hand on the back of your head tightens, his thumb pressing against your neck and making you shiver. His other hand is pressed tight to your jaw and when you gasp against his mouth, he presses down as if he can hold you open and consume you so you can't leave him again.
His muscled thigh is in between yours and you can feel the rough texture of his jeans, the same pair he wore to work, the same pair you'd put through the washing machine a thousand times, rub against where your legs are only covered in tights. The shorter than usual skirt meant to entice your date, and instead it was being taken advantage of by your ex-boyfriend.
Sukuna let go of your face so he could put his hand underneath the fabric of your skirt.
"New outfit?" He teases as his hand slides to the top of your tights.
"Got it for my date," you snap and he growls at you before he rips the seams of your tights. Before you can complain, he's dragging them down your thighs and diving into your panties so he can get to your cunt. The underwear is new too and a pained noise leaves you at the sensation of them snapping against your inner thigh, both at the pain and the thought of how much they cost.
"I still have those blue ones you like at home, the ones you wore for my birthday last year," he tells you as he slides his finger down the seam of your cunt. You're wet and it annoys you because orgasming has been a bitch to achieve since you had to start giving them to yourself again.
"You can keep them," you tell him and he bites your lower lip between his teeth, they'd always felt too sharp for a man and you know you're a twitch or a less than playful nibble away from a busted lip.
"They're not really up for wearing anymore anyway."
You want to ask him what he means by that as he kisses down your neck and thrusts one finger into you, the slide almost unholy.
"So fucking wet, your cunt was always better at talking than you were."
The sensation of being filled even though it's not enough it's not enough begins to itch at your need to be satisfied as your mind fills in the gaps of his previous words.
You can imagine Sukuna in the bed you used to share, the dark blue sheets and the comforter covered in a black pattern that had reminded you of the marks that covered his body. One hand holding your favorite pair of panties and the other his big cock, that sometimes you missed even more than him.
Did he use the panties to jerk off with, the fabric just an expensive tissue for his cum? Did he hold them to his nose and pretend he could still smell your pussy on them in the bed that used to smell like both of you? You had tried watching porn and reading smut, the stuff you had relied on before you were together, and nothing compared to what it felt like to come from his fingers, his tongue, his cock.
The only times you had touched yourself when you were together were when Sukuna had wanted to watch, his commentary pushing you to the edge. He had always known what to say.
Good girl, now try two fingers for me. Not enough? Do you need my cock? Fucking slutty princess, eh?
No matter how demeaning his words were, you had never felt true shame because his desire for you was always apparent. Sukuna never held back praise where he felt it was deserved, and he had always been quick to let you know that what you were doing was pleasing him.
"Pay attention to me, princess. I'd hate to think I was boring you." The words are laced with cruelty and the added pressure of a second figure is harsh, too soon, and still not enough.
The hand in your hair tightens, but the grip still careful not to mess it up beyond repair. Something you'd been adamant about in the beginning days of your relationship. The gentleness of it, of him, makes you cry out.
Since Sukuna was the only one who still seemed cognizant of how you were in an alley, only a right turn from being on a public sidewalk, he was quick to catch your moan in his mouth. Nearly purring in reply, a ridiculous thing for a ridiculous man to do.
"Fuck, that's it. No one else can make you feel like this, this cunt is fucking mine."
"Yes," you hiss out in agreement. Pleased with your concession, Sukuna's thumb swipes over your clit as he continues his punishing rhythm with his fingers. You can hear how wet you are as it echoes off the brick around you. Even though it's cold outside, you feel almost too hot between the warmth of his body shielding yours from the world around you and the heat that's continuing to build up in your core.
"So close, I know you are. Beg me, princess and I might let you come," he whispers in your ear and you would feel embarrassed of the whine you let out if you weren't so close.
"Please, Sukuna. Please, let me come!"
"I don't know. Not sure if I should reward you since you've apparently being going around giving this pussy to fucking anyone."
You shake your head. "No, I haven't slept with anyone since we broke up."
Sukuna kisses you so hard, you're grateful for the hand behind your head because you know his knuckles must be bruised from the force he kisses you with. Sukuna pulls back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours and you hate that you find that hot. That this whole thing is hot.
For a second, the softness in his eyes takes your breath away and you almost forget about where you are and what you're doing and why it's the worst idea you've ever had. He's just Sukuna, the love of your life and you miss him so much.
You think he might say something crazy like he loves you or even propose but then the softness is gone and he just grins at you.
"Alright, come then, you've earned it."
With permission granted, Sukuna focuses his attention on your clit in just that way you like in the way that only someone who's done this hundreds of times could do. He's definitely leaving hickies around your collarbone and neck, but for now they feel good and when you come, you bite your lip knowing it will be bruised. A reminder of how you're an idiot when you look at it in the mirror tomorrow.
Still soft with your orgasm, you reach down to return the favor but Sukuna grabs your hand.
"I'm not walking around with cum in my jeans," he tells you, kissing your palm. Typical of him, to end something crass with something sweet. You sigh as he puts you back down on the ground. You pull up what remains of your tights, the fabric uncomfortable on your quickly drying thighs. Your ripped panties lie on the ground and Sukuna looks at them forlornly before shaking his head, dirty alleyway panties apparently being too much even for him.
Sukuna grabs the bag you'd dropped when he'd kissed you and gestures for you to exit the alley. A few passersby give you strange looks but you figure if you were going to be arrested for public indecency, it would have happened already.
"I guess we're going to mine," you say. "I live like another two blocks this way."
"I know," Sukuna says already heading that way.
You blow a piece of hair out of your eye. "Of course you do."
When Sukuna actually types in the passcode to your building you almost lose it, but you're tired and honestly you had kind of expected to just come home to him already in your apartment at some point. Sukuna had never been great at respecting boundaries. Or the law.
You unlock the door to your apartment, it takes everything in you not to ask if he already has a key. You don't want to know. He follows you in and the two of you sit at the dingy two person table you have set up by one of the only windows.
"Cozy."
"Fuck you." He smirks in that way that has always made you want to punch him and you're reminded that you're currently wearing shredded tights.
"Sukuna, you wanted to talk. So talk."
The smirk leaves his face and he looks at his nails, pressing his thumb against the one on his pointer finger and then looking through the 'o' formed there. "You left."
"I did."
He looks at you. "Why?"
"You know why," you say, tired again.
"Sure, you want to get married at some point. You want a baby at some point. I don't see what that has to do with us, right now."
"Because right now leads to that some point. It doesn't just happen. There are things I want, that are important to me. If they're not important to you, then I need to find someone who has the same priorities as me."
"Because I'm not your priority," he says and this is the rehash of an argument you'd had a thousand times. Sukuna was selfish and possessiveness and while that had always granted you a certain security, it had also been a chain you'd constantly worn around your ankle. You weren't going to defend your time at work or with friends to your boyfriend. That belonged to a different time, to different women and it had been a nonnegotiable early in your relationship that he figure that shit out with himself.
"Sukuna, I love you but I'm not going to give up what I want for my future because you don't want it. You don't have to want it, in fact I appreciate that you've been honest about it-"
"So appreciative, you left me," the words are almost snarled and you sigh.
"That's not fair. You can't be mad I want something else, the same way I'm not mad that you want something else. It's not a character flaw to not want to get married, or to not what kids. It just means you have a person out there for you who shares that view. Because it's not me."
"Why can't it be enough to just have a life with the two of us?"
"It's not about whether or it's enough, it's about me wanting something else."
There's a pause. Sukuna claws at the dents already in your battered table and deepens the grooves as you try not to flinch at the sound of his nails bearing down on wood.
Finally, he responds. "You know, I spent my childhood, my teens and a lot of adulthood raising Yuuji because our piece of shit parents couldn't be bothered and let me tell you. It's fucking hard. It is constant and they need so much for you. I didn't do anything but work and watch him for almost two decades and I don't want to do that again. I want my own life."
"I understand," you tell him. "That was a lot, even if you did a great thing by taking him in."
"It wasn't because I was nice. You seem to be forgetting that I'm a murderer. And you want me to fucking watch Bluey with some brat."
"You may not be nice but you do right by the people you care about. I also don't think you've murdered a baby, it would probably be okay."
"That's more incidental than a conscience choice," he says and you know he has to hear how ridiculous he sounds.
"Alright. I respect your decision but for what it's worth, we're not kids anymore and you wouldn't be doing this alone. I think Yuuji turned out pretty great because he had you, and I think any kid of our would be lucky to have you as a dad."
"You would really do all that with me," he says and his voice is as close to wonderous as you've ever heard it. "You really are a lost cause."
You try not to react, remind yourself that this is always how Sukuna responds to affection. He'd laughed at you the first time you'd told him you loved him. You'd punched him and broken your hand on his chin. He'd told you he loved you in the ER as the attendant resetting your hand looked on in horror.
"I think that's enough for today. Thanks for stopping by and for the orgasm, appreciate it," you say, rising from the chair. You walk the short trip to your door and open it. "Hope you have a safe trip home."
Sukuna stays seated. "That's it?"
"Yeah, Sukuna, that's it."
"And if I said I could do this, I could give you those things."
You think about it and look him over. How his hands twitch as if only his ego is preventing them from clenching. The clear trauma that was informing his previous stance.
"I'd say take some time and maybe talk to someone. I don't want to do this with someone who can just bring themselves to bear it. I want them to be as excited as me."
"That's asking for a lot from a guy."
"But someone will do it." Sukuna looks angry again and when he steps in your space, you push him gently away with your hand. He goes to hold it and even the familiar scrape of his calluses against your skin can't make you waver.
"Bye, Sukuna."
Sukuna looks at you, waiting for you to give in you know but you won't.
He leaves without another word.
When the door to the stairwell slams shut, you finally let yourself cry.
----------
It's been a month since you've seen Sukuna and you're on another date.
The guy is unoffensive. He gave you a hug when you met up and he'd made a joke about the plethora of other couples at the restaurant. You two started playing a game where you tried to guess how many dates each couple had been on?
"Three, she's finally figured out she can't put up with how he chews no matter how nicely coiffed his hair is," your date says as you take another sip of your drink.
"That's a second date, his chewing is a commit or quit type of deal and she looks ready to go. Bet they didn't eat together on their first date."
"Is he telling the plot to Dune, he has not stopped talking since we sat down," he says and you giggle despite yourself.
You've just started on the couple both looking determinedly at their phones by the window when your phone rings.
"Sorry, I need to take this," you say and he smiles.
"No worries, I'll let you know how many times she misses her mouth while looking at her phone."
You wave as you go to stand outside. You take a deep breath and then answer.
"Hey."
"Hey, princess. Bad time?"
"No, just, what do you want?"
"Well, I'm planning this first date with this girl and I'm having trouble figuring out how to explain something."
You want to throw up, what kind of test is this?
"What do you want to say?"
"Well, I've heard that it's important to be straightforward with your intentions, so you don't waste anyone's time."
"And what are your intentions?" You manage to spit out and he laughs, his smugness almost seeping out the phone.
"Well not anytime soon, but eventually I think I'd like a little brat. You know, prove to Yuuji that he wasn't a fluke."
You heart is pounding and you hate him. You love him.
"Uh huh."
"And I guess it would probably be easier to do that if we just got married. You know, taxes, healthcare, I still don't have healthcare but my wife will and I've heard you can add people to that."
"This proposal is the fucking worst one I've ever heard," you say, trying to ignore the fact you are now crying in front of a restaurant. People walk by giving you pitying looks, probably think you got stood up.
"It's not a proposal, it's a framing of intent."
"Why do you talk like such an old man, we are almost the same age?"
"Why do you talk like such a brat?"
"You know-"
"Probably," he says and you laugh despite yourself.
"So when is this date?"
"Tonight," he says. "You can wear that dress you're wearing, it looks perfect on you."
"Are you fucking here, you creep?"
"That's no way to talk to your future husband and no. That place is a shithole, I'm at our usual."
"Good, I've missed it. No one makes my drink the way I like it," you tell him and he hums.
"Well, it will be waiting for you when you get here. So get here soon."
"Alright, I'll see you soon."
Sukuna hangs up and you stand there. There's a perfectly nice guy inside. One who makes you laugh and who maybe one day you could grow to love.
But there's another guy across town who is sitting at your favorite restaurant, ordering your favorite drink. His lips taste like the organic chapstick, he claims to be too tacky to be worth wearing but keeps it in his pocket anyway. He built all your furniture and let you paint your bathroom green even though you live in a rental. He's held your hair back when you were sick and cleaned it up even as he bitched at you for the mess and done a rather cruel impression of you retching.
There's another guy that you love.
So you go back into the restaurant to tell your perfectly nice date that something has come up.
Maybe you're a fool, but what else could you do?
Maybe this will be a series, idk. Being an adult is weird. This is def ooc but you know, let me work through things and call them fiction. That's what this account is for.
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bpmiranda · 25 days
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Beauty and the beast trope with Beast!Logan and Belle!reader has some interesting possibilities xoxoxo
Beauty And The Beast (Logan Howlett)
A/N: fluffy, beast!logan, belle!reader, soft!logan
Everyone in town knew to avoid the cabin nestled between the mountain hills. No one was brave enough to take that hike, scared of the rumors, terrified of being caught on his property.
They told their children bedtime stories of the beast living in the hills. Cautionary tales to keep them from wandering too far into the woods. And he liked it that way, he enjoyed the solitude, the fear of him.
At least he thought he did.
You were driving home from college during a rainstorm. It wasn’t a terribly long trip, but having to drive slow due to the slick, winding roads of the hills did add onto your time and the night had fallen around you. You hated driving in the rain. Your mother had passed away due to an accident in a storm similar to this one and the thought made you anxious.
As soon as you thought about perhaps calling your dad, letting him know you might be late, a flash of lightening and clap of thunder startled you. The blue light of the storm illuminated the road in front of you and you gasped as you realized a large tree had fallen into the road, blocking your path so that you had nowhere to go. “Damn it.” You breathed out, looking around at your surroundings and sighing. You couldn’t very well wait the storm out here in the middle of the road. Where could you go? The town was still a good forty miles down the hill and there was absolutely nothing around here. Except - “Ah!” You gasped, startled out of your thoughts by another clap of thunder and you sighed, holding you heart over your chest and breathing heavily.
There was no other choice.
Slowly, you turned back around and drove through the woods, your breathing shallow and shaky as you could see the lights of his cabin. You didn’t know if anyone that ever came here, you weren’t sure if this might even be the correct cabin. Surely there were other people who owned cabins? To avoid a whole mountain because of one man seemed excessive, terrifying as the stories may be.
The cabin wasn’t covered in moss or decorated in human skulls as you had been told as a little girl, so you figured it was safe enough to knock on the door in seek of shelter. Before you could even get out of your car, the front door opened and in the doorframe, silhouetted by the light behind him, stood an incredibly tall and large man, the supposed beast living here. Your breath hitched in your throat as you slowly got out of your car. You waved, and immediately wanted to smack yourself. Why on Earth are you waving? You thought as you slammed your car door shut and slowly made the walk up the driveway, uncaring of the rain as it poured down on you.
“What do you want?” His voice called as you stood at the bottom of the porch, shivering and holding your arms tightly as the cold rain sliced against your skin.
“The road is blocked by a tree. There’s no way to get to town.” You explain, squinting to try to get a glimpse of his face. “I-I need a place to stay for the night.”
The man was silent until he stepped back into his cabin and left the door open for you to come in. You quickly followed him, closing the door behind you and turning to see, not a beast, but a very attractive man with lots of hair and a thick beard. You could understand the term beast if it meant large and muscular, but he wasn’t ugly or foul-looking as they had claimed him to be. No, he was just a man.
“That road won’t be cleared in the morning.” He told you and you gave him a confused look. “No one comes up here. They’re not going to clear it anytime soon. Especially not for me.”
“Oh,” You breathed out, looking around the cabin and wondering where the townspeople got the idea that he lived like an animal in filth. It looked very much like a home. “I have nowhere to go.”
Logan had never seen someone quite like you. So beautiful while drenched in rain and a shivering lip. Your eyes so deep and big, looking at him without fear, without judgement. You couldn’t possibly be one of the townspeople. He would’ve remembered you. “What were you doing up here?” He asked as he walked into his kitchen and began to gather mugs.
“I’m visiting my dad from college. I grew up in the town at the bottom of the mountain.” You explain, following him and watching him pour some coffee. “I don’t mean to be a burden.”
The man turns to you and sets the mugs on the table, pulling a chair out and motioning for you to sit. “You couldn’t have known. Have a seat, warm up while I find you something dry to wear.” He said as he left you sipping coffee at the table and retreated into the back of the cabin.
When he returns, he looks apologetic as he’s holding a flannel that appears to be one of his own and nothing else. A blush creeps onto your face and you set your mug down. “I didn’t think you’d have much that would fit me.” You say with a light laugh as you get up and approach him. “Thank you, um -”
“Logan.” He answers as he hands you his flannel. Your laugh made his heart jump, the feeling of your soft fingers lightly grazing his hand as you take the shirt sends an electric signal up his arm and he craves more. More of your touch, if to just hold your hand at the very least.
While you’re changing out of your wet clothes, Logan’s decided to fix you something to eat, but he’s not sure of what you eat. Are you a vegetarian? Maybe you have allergies. It’s then that he begins to wonder why he’s even making a fuss. You’ve only had her in your home all of five seconds and you’re playing husband, he scoffs to himself and turns around just to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of you.
His flannel falls right above your knees and you’ve cinched it with the belt you had looped through your jeans. Your hair is messy and wavy from the rain, falling softly over your shoulders and he feels his heartache at the sight. “Almost a perfect fit.” You say as you pad barefoot over to him and take the seat you were previously occupying. “Are you certain I’m not being a bother, Logan?” You ask as you look up at him with those wide eyes, chewing your bottom lip nervously.
Logan shakes his head, sitting across from you as he smiles. “Not at all. Stay as long as you must, please.” You smile bashfully and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you notice the ingredients he had set out on the counter.
“Oh! Let me do this.” You say, immediately getting up and preparing to fix you both a meal while Logan watches, enthralled by you.
As you’re cooking, Logan asks you about your studies. You ask him about how he ended up in this mountain. He asks about your father, and you ask about his. Then he asks about your mother. “She passed away last year.” You say with a small, sad smile. The pain still slightly raw.
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” You say while stirring the contents of the pot gently simmering. “She passed away on this mountain, a car accident during a storm like this one.” You recall and a shiver runs up your spine. Logan nods slowly. “It’s been hard without her. She was very kind and sage, always knew exactly what to say to make me feel better.” Your eyes find his sympathetic ones boring into you and you ask, “Do you know what it’s like?”
“I do.”
You smile kindly at him and you lower the heat on the stove to let it finish cooking slowly before you sit across from him at the table. “Why do they call you a beast?” You ask curiously. Logan chuckles and then holds one hand up from where three large blades slide out between his knuckles and your eyes go wide. “Oh, you’re one of the gifted.”
“Most just call us mutants, or in my case, beasts.” Logan says as he retracts his claws.
You frown and reach over to place your hand over his. The feeling of your small, warm hand gives him that longing feeling again. “You shouldn’t hide up here because of it. You’re just a man at the end of the day. Those fairytales are just that, stories for children. Being gifted like this doesn’t make any of it true.”
Logan’s hand turns around under yours and he holds it gently, his thumb caressing the top of your hand. “I’m afraid no one in that town would be as accepting and kind as you, beautiful.” He says, making you blush as he lifts your hand and kisses your knuckles.
The oven suddenly dings, indicating that the bread is done, you squeeze his hand affectionately. “You hungry?” You ask as you’re getting up to plate dinner for the both of you.
Logan’s eyes follow you, watch every movement of yours with a hawk’s eyes. His tongue moistens his lips as you reach into a cabinet for bowls, his flannel rising slightly on your small frame and giving him a better view of your thighs. “Very.”
I feel like there will have to be a second part🙈 Thank you very much for this request! I thoroughly enjoy Disney movies💚
Part Two
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sweetiecutie · 1 year
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Ex!Boyfriend König who is NOT okay with your relationships ending. Maybe he was a bit controlling, yes; maybe possessive as well, but there’s nothing in this world people can’t solve by talking the problem out. Yes, you did talk it out three times before, but he will change this time, he swears!
Ex!Boyfriend König who litters your phone with numerous voice and text messages begging for forgiveness, several calls coming in daily, every single one of them ignored blatantly. When you finally get fed up and decide to block him on all messengers - König starts writing you emails. And when you mark him as spam, he finds new way of reaching you out. A notifications from bank app pops up in the top of your screen, 100€ had been transferred to your account, purpose of payment saying “Baby, let’s just talk about it”
Ex!Boyfriend König who keeps showing up at your front porch, never once failing to hand in posh bouquets of your favourite flowers before practically pleading for you to take him back. You’re his whole world, his very life and everything König has ever cared about, he feels so empty without you - can’t you see what you do to him? How miserable he is without you?
Ex!Boyfriend König who keeps close eye on whoever there is that may be brave enough to ask you out, not scared one bit to step in and break motherfucker’s jaw for coming way too close to you for man’s liking. You may have broken up, but you’re still his, and there’s nothing in this world König hates more than sharing.
Ex!Boyfriend König who is a literal killing machine, able to snap spines as if they were twigs; a vicious 2.10 meter tall monster with anger issues, a fucking Colonel. And yet, he turns into pathetic puddle before your feet, stepping on his own pride, begging for the first time in his whole fucking life. But it’s all perfectly worth it if in the end you’ll be his once again, because there’s no König without his sweet angel<3
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lovifie · 6 months
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Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️
Masterlist - Taglist Form
All Chapters
Please don't look too much into the plot holes. Canon can suck my ass, I'm making my own, xoxo 💋
Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.
Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of death, mentions of guns, rotating POV (mostly Simon's), Spoilers → amnesia, smut, voyeurism
“THE TUNNEL IT'S COLLAPSING! FOLLOW MAKAROV! I'LL TAKE JOHNNY OUT!”
That was the last thing Ghost heard of you.
It's been months since Johnny and you were declared KIA on that mission. 
You weren't even meant to be inside, you were the medic, you were supposed to wait outside. 
But the moment Makarov shot Johnny he panicked.
Ghost panicked.
And Simon panicked.
You came in running, panting for the effort of carrying with you the medical bag half your size. 
You were the one who told them to run. To go after Makarov and kill him. 
You were trying to wake up Johnny, Ghost knew it was a lost cause. He couldn't find the pulse, he was gone.
His Johnny was gone.
The last thing he expected was that he was about to lose you too.
Once outside, he kept looking at the tunnel. Waiting for you to come out, whether it was dragging Johnny's body or alone; it didn't matter. You needed to get out.
But after the tunnel collapsed and you didn't get out, it was Price who finally pushed Ghost away.
He barely remembers getting back to base, doesn't remember what Price kept telling him on the helicopter, doesn't remember skipping meals for days, doesn't remember crying himself to sleep for weeks.
But he remembers your face, he remembers Johnny's face.
Oh, what a coward he was. 
Two people that he loved, that found their way under his skin right into his heart. Two people that Simon wanted to grow old next to, two people that made Simon want to wake up every morning. 
And he was still not brave enough to confess his feelings to neither of them.
He used to stay awake late at night dreaming about how he would do it. After a long time of debating with himself, figuring out what those feelings inside of him were.
Until he figured out it was love, only to them have to face the complex situation of loving two people at the same time.
But even how complicated of a man Simon Riley was, when it comes to his wants it all turns simpler. If on the menu there are two dishes that he likes? He is getting both, obviously. Why choose?
So if all his lonely and twisted life he had never loved anyone, now he suddenly fell in love with two people. He wasn't going to give up one of them and their love just for society's norms.
Murder is also against society’s norms, and he gets paid for it. 
But it was too late now.
Maybe it was for the better.
He could lie to himself, agree that he never confessed because it was not his destiny. 
Not because they would have not loved him back. 
Not because they would have been scared of him.
Not because they wouldn't have been able to see past his mask. 
Not because they would have rather dated each other than him.
It's easier like this.
Simon knows how to mourn a loved one. 
What he doesn't know is, how it's possible he got a message from you this morning when you died four months ago.
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You are stepping out of the shower, skin warm from the water and baby hairs sticking to your forehead; when someone knocks on the bathroom door.
You furrow your eyebrows at how hard they knock, the whole door shaking with it.
“Calm down, I'm almost finished.” You grumble, pulling the towel around your body. 
You drag your feet over the towel on the floor to walk closer, and open the door annoyed by the insistent knocking.
“I told you I am almost finish-” Your words are cut off by the barrel of a gun right on your face.
You don't even have time to panic, because you immediately recognise the stupid skeleton gloves holding the gun.
“Simon?” You whisper,scared that if you talk any louder he will disappear. Price and Gaz are behind him, slowly lowering their gun when they see it's you.
There is a glistering layer over Ghost's eyes that if you didn't known any better you'd think are tears.
You push his gun down, the man still immobile as if you were the ghost; and you jump into his arms, circling his neck with your arms.
“It worked! It finally worked!” You exclaim, tears slowly running down your cheeks. “I have been trying to contact any of you for months, it finally fucking worked!”
Ghost struggles to tell whether you are laughing or crying, a mix of the two. But he can't focus on that, he can only focus on your skin under his gloves.
God, how he hated his gloves right now. 
He bites the tip of his finger, pulling the glove off spitting it somewhere. And he snakes his hand under your towel.
He knows is improper, perverted even; but he needs it. He needs to feel your warm skin under his palm, your heart beating loud and fast. 
He surrounds your waist, hands big enough to rest on your ribs, right under your chest. 
Boom, boom… boom, boom… boom, boom…
He sighs, melting onto you, his tears getting absorbed by the mask on his face. He hugs you tighter, daring you to slip from his fingers again.
He bites his lips, copper taste on his tongue, to prevent himself from sobbing.
But the sobs can be heard, and Ghost it's almost disappointed with himself until he notices your body shaking.
It's you who is crying.
And he panics again, pulling back to look at you and you cup your face, apologizing. 
“I'm sorry. I tried my best, I really did.” He can barely understand what you are trying to tell him between sobs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”
He shushes you quickly, he understands; the survivor’s guilt is a special kind of poison. But he understands, he feels it too. 
“It's alright, love. You are alright, everything is going to be alright.” He hugs you again, resting your head on his chest. Mourning Johnny will be easier if you are together, he now hates himself for thinking you were dead; for accepting it.
For mourning you for months and now having you on his arms. 
Warm and breathing. 
He can only imagine what you went through. 
You entered the tunnel because he called for you, and then he left you inside with a corpse. 
How did you get out?
How did anyone see you get out?
How did you find a house?
How did you survive alone with the guilt?
Are the scars on your shoulder for getting out or were they always there?
Were you trapped under the debris?
For how long?
But that doesn't matter, he knew you were strong. That you were clever. That you were better than him. 
He already knew that. 
Gaz and Price remain silent, reading in the situation that there is something underlying that they don't know. Letting the two of you, have your moment. 
It's only when Gaz hears the almost unnoticeable steps get closer that he moves, turning his body and almost dropping his weapon in the process when he sees him.
“Johnny?” That's all he is able to see.
And that's all that is needed to hear.
Price and Ghost whip their head around like they have been smacked, coming face to face with the man.
There are still bandages on the side of his head, he looks thinner, less muscles, sunken eyes and dark bags. But it's Johnny. 
A scarred, angry Johnny. 
Holding the pistol on his hands pointing to Ghost's head.
Looking at him as if Simon was his greatest enemy.
“Johnny…” He tries to talk to him, keeping you behind his back by instincts.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Johnny shouts, his hands are shaking.
That explains it, why he look like a madman, why he looks so scared under the rage, why he keeps trying to look under him.
“Johnny, it's alright.” You finally say, moving from behind Ghost, softly pushing his arm back. You walk ahead, still only on the towel; and you walk up to Johnny. You rest your hand on the pistol, pushing it down with ease. 
You raise your other hand to the men, the signal of “wait”.
Johnny looks at you with utter confusion, eyes shaking moving around your face for any kind of explanation. His hand move around you, checking for any damage; the hand that doesn't have the gun clinging to the towel. 
You cup his face between your hands, the man bending down slightly to make it easier for you to reach; you whisper something to him making him relax almost immediately. 
And then you kiss him.
On the cheek, right beside the nose making him close his eyes for a second.
But it feels like a stab on Simon's heart. 
He tries to think rationally, you were just calming him down. He knows Johnny is always desperate for physical contact, that's all. Nothing else. 
He really tries to think logically, but logically the two of you are dead and buried under a tunnel. Not standing at the end of the hall, kissing and comforting each other. 
Something about it, about the possibility there is something more going on between Johnny and you; sends Simon's inner gears spinning. 
He sees the virtual space between the two of you, slowly getting in the shape of his body.
You whisper something to Johnny, he nods, touching your forehead with his for a second, before walking back. Looking at Simon with hate on his cerulean blue eyes. 
You sigh, watching Johnny move and turn to the three still shell-shocked. 
“As far as I can tell…” You whisper, once you are close to them. “He only remembers up to when he was 20, little more, little less.”
“So he doesn't remember anyone?” Price asks after a moment.
You shake your head. “Not that he hasn't asked me about, he asked about some people but I don't know them. He thought I was a nurse when he woke up.” You explain.
“What happened in the tunnel?” Gaz asks, looking behind you to check Johnny is not back. “How did you get out? And him? He was dead.”
You shake your head again. “Not yet. Almost… but not yet. I-”
“Bonnie! You want coffee or tea?!” Johnny's voice makes everyone jump.
“Coffee, please!” You answer without skipping a beat and turn to them. “I'll explain it later, alright? It's not the place nor the time.”
Price nods once. “Get dressed, I'll contact the pilot to let them know we are flying back tonight, right?”
“Roger that.” The three of you reply almost by muscle memory.
“I'll be fast, don't rile him up.” You say, before entering the bedroom closing it behind you.
Ghost feels Price's eyes on him. 
Wondering.
Asking.
What's between you and him?
What's between you and Soap?
What's inside his mind?
“Tea is ready.” It all gets interrupted by the amnesiac man calling them to the kitchen.
They walk together, sitting around the table. Gaz and Price find it almost easy to talk to Soap, about how happy they are to see him again, about how they are flying back later, easy chatter.
But Ghost can't. 
Not when Soap finally smiles at Price making fun of Gaz's cap and Ghost's breath is knocked out of his chest. 
That's his boy.
Breathing and warm.
Just like you.
He knows it's the universe talking, telling him not to fuck it up again.
Still, he feels his heart sink every time Soap looks at him with such a sour look. Offended even. His boy.
That would jump at any opportunity to impress him, to earn his respect, his affection. Now locked like he wanted to stab him on the chest, twisting the knife in the process.
He knows it's because of you, the way the man stared at his hand as you pushed it out of the towel didn't go unnoticed by Simon. 
Not the greatest first impression. 
Does it count as a first impression if he has known the man for years? 
You walk into the kitchen not much later, Johnny's eyes lightening at seeing you; his saviour. 
You walk past Ghost, your arm resting on his shoulder as you bend down to slightly knock your head against Soap's.
And that's it, that all Simon's needs. To be involved. He doesn't need to be in the middle of you two, he is fine with being in the sidelines, but he needs to be a part of it.
He knows you are on his side, you remember him unlike Johnny. You can be the bridge to get him to Johnny; to keep Johnny from running. Make a pack with him; keep the two of you close.
A turmoil of emotions keeps spinning inside Ghost's head, all the versions of himself wanting to be right.
The part of him he thinks is unable to love telling him to let the two of you alone, you are better of without him.
The part of him he thinks is unable to be loved telling him to not even try, save himself the rejection. 
The part of him that is still unsure of what even are his feelings telling him to not get involved, that it would only confuse the two of you.
But then there is also that part of him. The part called Simon Riley; that still holds onto the chance of loving and getting love.
And he looks at you and Soap, the way Soap looks up to you. The way he used to look at him. 
“Let's pack our things up, Johnny.” You say, patting Soap’s back. “The sooner we are back home, the better.”
And you smile at Soap so kindly, so wide, so warm.
He understands how you managed to calm Soap down. Waking up from what he assumed must be something close to a coma after getting shot on the head, not remembering anything, in pain, alone. And then you appeared, so soft and so kind.
He wouldn't blame Johnny if he was already in love with you, with you being literally the only thing he knows since waking up. 
Johnny stands up, walking out of the kitchen but looking back to make sure you are walking behind him. 
The two of you disappear down the hall, voices low as you move away.
“I can't believe they are alive…” Gaz comments, sipping his tea.
“Neither do I…” Price answers, sipping his. “Bloody necromancer…”
And you are, Simon was also dead before meeting you. 
“I'm gonna check on them.” He says, downing the beverage on a gulp that burns down his throat. 
He stands up, Price and Gaz look at him as he does. They are going to talk about him as soon as he gets out, but he doesn't care. 
He has made his choice.
He loves you.
He loves Johnny.
He walks down the hall, seeing the door ajar.
His hand reaches the knob when he hears it.
His blood running cold.
“Johnny…”
It's your sweet voice moaning the name. 
The unmistakable sounds of kisses inside the room.
“I don't like how he looks at you, bonnie.” The man whispers, his breathing unstable.
“He's your best friend, Joh-Ah!” You moan, interrupting yourself as you speak.
“I don't care! I don't know him. You are mine!” The man grunts, the sound of skin slapping slowly becoming more and more clear. 
“Johnny…” You moan again, and Simon is sure that he can hear your cunt squelch around Johnny's length. 
He opens the door the slightest bit, just enough for his eyes to see the way Johnny has you bent over on the bed. 
With you laying on your stomach on the bed, legs hanging from him without strength to push yourself up. Johnny behind you, a foot on the ground and the other on the mattress as leverage to keep sinking into your weeping cunt.
Neither of you bothered to take off the clothes, simply lowered the pants enough for Johnny to get inside of you. Your pants pooling on your ankles, legs limp with the rhythm Johnny has settled.
Simon wishes he could see your face, pleasure painted on your expressions with your face buried on the mattress. Johnny keeps your hands on your back, keeping you pressed against the bed. But the only thing he can see is Johnny's back.
So he sees perfectly fine when the man turns his torso around, still thrusting into you, and looks at Simon.
He looks straight into Simon's eyes, who panic just for a second for getting caught peeking into their room, into them together.
But the Johnny smiles, not the adoration-filled smile he used to gift Simon with. Instead, is the smile filled with pride that he only kept for after winning a match or catching an enemy.
Johnny raises his hand to show him his middle finger.
As he mouths “Fuck you.”
And Simon wants to laugh.
Johnny wants to play?
Then they'll play.
Game's on.
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@waiting-so-long
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a-b-riddle · 5 months
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You're not her...
I've been seeing a good bit of fics where the reader is left for another woman and people around them are encouraging it. While I do love a good angst, I would simply pass away. Your girl, Riddle, is weak.
Especially if it's my baby boy Simon.... I can't. I love the idea, but as someone who is an absolute crybaby, I wouldn't survive being reader...
So what if that happened to nurse reader's partner left them for a fellow recruit and when everyone starts being like "good for him", the 141 isn't having any of it?
The others on base seemed honestly happy that your heart had absolutely been broken. I mean, you weren't exactly around him as much as she was. You couldn't see the undeniable chemistry there was. You had tried to put on a brave face. But when John had come in for some ointment for a burn and you were falling apart, he gathered up his boys.
Something needed to be done. A point to prove not just to you or your ex or that woman who had chosen to pursue a very much taken man, but to the hold damn unit. Your ex didn't leave you because there was someone else. He left you because he didn't deserve you in the first place.
In hand to hand, Johnny doesn't hold back. Not only does your ex absolutely get his ass handed to him on the mat over and over again, but does it in front of his new girl and everyone else. How embarrassing. Doesn't exactly help that Kyle is on the sidelines talking so much shit that she begins to get the ick. I mean, could he not honestly win one match? Wonder what that says about a man who can't even hold his own? It even gets cringier when your ex tries to place the blame on the drills from yesterday with a certain Ghost.
Simon is already hard as a lieutenant. But add in the factor that the recruit he currently has running drills is the same recruit who hurt his favorite little nurse? The boy would be lucky to crawl out of there. The second an exercise or drill is not made to absolute perfection, Simon has him running it all over again. It almost
John is already starting the transfer papers the first time he catches your eyes the least bit misty. You don't have to see that rubbish and since the prick and slag couldn't have the decency to wait until he had broken up with you properly instead of telling you that even though he was with you, he had fallen for another woman, then they'll be sent to completely different units. John lists the reason for transfer as a liability. If they were so proud of their "love" before, let them keep that same energy.
And Kyle.... Sweet shit talkin' Kyle. Who plants seeds around the entire base. Nowhere are these two lovebird safe from judgment. All of the female recruits have ostracized their fellow female soldier while receiving lewd looks and calls from the males. I mean if she was easy enough to fuck a taken man, then she must be an easy lay. And here comes Kyle, telling your ex 'man-to-man' about seeing his girl with other officers. Kyle is the most gentle when it comes to the 141. But the motherfucker knows a thing or two about psychological warfare.
After your ex and the girl are suddenly, very mysteriously sent elsewhere, everyone starts flocking to you. Offering reassurances on what a bullet you dodged. How, from what they heard, they had broken up shortly after being relocated to separate bases. The boys see your confidence creep back in. Your smile is a little brighter. A little more pep in your step.
You wouldn't tell anyone how your ex had e-mailed you. Complaining about the new base. Explaining how he had ended things and just wanted you back. How he regretted ever letting her get to him, as if she were the only one at fault for kindling the relationship.
It also didn't help that a certain member of the 141 had come by your station, wondering if you wanted to grab a drink when you were off of your shift.
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cxrdycxps · 2 months
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Apologize • Abby Anderson
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☢️ Canon typical violence • shitty friends • graphic depictions of injuries • AFAB reader • size kink kinda • Abby is huge • strap sex • thigh riding ☢️
Abby Anderson Masterlist • Main Masterlist
“I mean, I feel like we may be ignoring the elephant in the room?” You leaned back on your chair and looked around at the people gathered there. “Like realistically you all have to be thinking what I am?”
“Would you like to share?” Abby asked, her arms crossed and her glare leveled at you. “Seeing as you seem to be the only one who knows what you’re talking about?”
One glance at the others assured you that she was wrong. You weren’t the only one who knew. You were the only one brave enough to say it. Mel and Owen were avoiding your look and Manny was straight up staring at the wall.
“You want to travel for weeks, during winter, on some half cocked tip that the guy you’ve been looking for, for years, might be there? And you want to round us up to do this for you?” You asked her, voice growing in volume. “You’re asking us to risk our fucking lives for you to play executioner?”
“You don’t have to go.” Abby sighed, brushing you off. You hadn’t been part of the inner circle for long. Mostly because of your antagonistic relationship with Abby. Owen usually played mediator but right now it seemed he had given up that role. “Just leave now.”
“Abby, I’m gonna say this slowly. I’m going to tell you what we’re all thinking.” You stood from your seat, well aware of Abby’s strength and her abilities. You only had speed on your side if she decided to attack you. “Your dad was going to knife up a thirteen year old girl.”
“He wasn’t going to fucking knife her up.” Abby snapped, taking a threatening step towards you. “He was trying to save everyone.”
“There was no grounds for the studies.” You told her, taking a step back. “I’ve read them. I read every single page of what he had written. It was more than likely going to be a learning curve. He wrote that himself!”
“Joel Miller shot my father in cold blood.” Abby spoke through gritted teeth and you huffed a sigh, sick of the same rhetoric.
“Joel Miller shot the man threatening his little girls life. He felt that same rage you feel now. That little girl was obviously his world and your father was willing to take that from him.” You told her, stepping back again slowly. She was inching towards you. “I know why your dad was doing that. He was a good man Abby. But Ellie was just a child. She didn’t even know what they would have to do to her to get a chance of a chance at a cure.”
“I would’ve done it.” She told you and you saw your opening, grabbing at it with both hands when her shoulders sagged.
“I would have too. But I would never have let my child do it.” You told her softly and she relaxed her jaw before clenching it again. “If it was Owen or Mel or Manny, would you let someone unknowingly kill them?”
“We would’ve-” you held a hand up to Manny, silencing him.
“Would you let them do it to your father?” You knew Manny’s father was a sore spot for him and he fell silent again. “Joel did his duty as a father to Ellie. You heard Marlene’s tapes. You know what he felt for that girl, what he had lost before. He couldn’t do it again Abby and no one should’ve asked him to.”
“It would’ve saved the world!” Abby yelled, arms out wide. You winced and stepped back again. She was a formidable force to be reckoned with and you knew your odds were low if you even tried.
“It might have. It might have just been a dead thirteen year old on your father’s hands and a guilt he would’ve never absolved.” You told her and you didn’t even have time to throw up your hands to protect yourself. She closed the distance in two steps and threw a punch.
You took the hit, head snapping back. Owen stepped in at that point and you held a hand up to your throbbing cheek bone. “She’s not wrong, Abby. You know I loved your old man. But she’s got a point.”
You could feel the swelling starting, your vision blurry from the eye that took the hit. You couldn’t brush off the tears but it was more from the shock of the impact than the pain. “I would want to kill him too. I would want him to suffer for every moment I had to grieve. But you can’t do to Ellie what he did to you. He had a damn good reason.”
“It doesn’t make it hurt any less.” Mel stood, coming to Abby’s side. “We know that Abby. Knowing why he did it might make it hurt all the more. But this is the wrong path to take on. Vigilante justice won’t fix anything.”
“It’ll fix me. There’s a giant gaping wound in me. This will fix it.” Abby’s voice had lost the passion. There was no anger now, just a hollow echo of it. She had lost her fight.
Mel left Abby’s side to check on your face. She pulled your hand down slowly and winced at what she found. “Can you see?”
You didn’t know if you could or not. The eye had begun to swell, your lid barely opening. There was a trickle or warmth down your cheek and Mel’s hand came away bloody.
“Killing Joel won’t heal anything in you.” Your whole jaw ached to talk and you wondered how she could do so much damage with one punch. “It will only make that wound worse. You’ll have no one left to pin the root of your grief on.”
“Come on, let’s get you out of here before she stomps on your head.” Mel sighed, gripping your elbow tightly and leading you towards the entrance to the aquarium. “Good luck explaining this to Isaac.”
“Don’t suppose I can tell him I walked into a door?” You asked, your voice tight with the pain that was setting in heavy.
“Not unless that door was shaped like a fist. I can see each individual finger.” Manny tried to lighten the mood, his voice coming from behind you. You could hear the others talking with Abby and you hoped they would find a way to keep her off the ledge.
“You’re braver than I am.” Mel muttered quietly when you were far enough away from the main group. “I thought no one would say it.”
“You’re all at fault here. She’s been letting that fester for years and you just allowed it?” You asked, wincing when your words muffled. How big were Abby’s hands? Your mouth felt swollen. “You let her focus on that so she wouldn’t focus on you and Owen. Cause you thought she’d never find him.”
“That’s not entirely fair. She drove Owen away.” Mel snapped and you would’ve rolled your eyes if you didn’t think you’d damaged one of them irreparably.
“Into your open arms.” You sighed. “She needed a support system more than ever right at the moment you all let it fall apart.”
///
There wasn’t much to be done at the infirmary back on base. The swelling would go down in a few days, you could see light through the barely there slit when your eyelids where pulled aparet by probing fingers. It meant you probably weren’t blind or permanently disfigured. You did have a headache that seemed to be entering migraine territory.
Mel guessed at concussion on top of a stable fracture to your cheek bone. You knew she was probably right but it didn’t stop you leaving the infirmary and sneaking back to your room, dodging the questions from well meaning colleagues.
You had expected the knock on the door a lot sooner. Mel had been gone on break when you ditched the ward. You thought she would’ve come looking for you right away.
You groaned and pushed yourself out of bed. Your head felt so heavy that it hung forward and took effort to straighten up again. You massaged your temple gently, mindful of the bruising. When the door opened though you flinched and stepped back. Abby was standing there with her arms crossed.
She sucked in a breath at the sight of you and retreated back a step, letting her arms fall limply to her side. You were aware of how you looked and you knew it wasn’t pretty.
Abby didn’t speak. She stared at you, starting from your feet up to your face. Watching you as if she could catalogue your injuries through observation alone. And who knows, maybe she could.
After what felt like hours of staring you blinked your one eye that opened right now at her and held the door open further. She looked from the door back to your face and shook her head, stalking back in the direction of her own room that she shared with Manny.
You stepped out into the hallway and watched her go before shrugging and returning to your room.
///
The days that followed were hell. You didn’t know pain until the following morning when you rolled over as you were waking up and lifted a hand to rub your eye.
You hissed and then winced at the stiffness in your jaw. In the bathroom your mirror told you everything you needed to know that the throbbing in your skull hadn’t told you. You looked way worse, the bruising taking over half your face. You almost swore you could see her imprinted hand like Manny had joked.
Everything hurt and every movement pulled against it. You showered and the water pressure hurt your bruises. Opening your mouth wide enough to brush your teeth made you actually cry. Pulling your hair back even managed to make the pressure in your skull build so you had left it down.
You were pretty sure chewing was out of the question and you had no doubt you were going to have to make a pitstop and beg for one of those good pain injections you knew Mel had on hand.
Isaac had taken you off duty while you were recovering and you were more than grateful for that fact, donning a hoodie and pulling the hood up to cover your face from prying eyes.
Mel wasn’t working in the infirmary that morning but Nora offered a pain injection and some calorie packs to be dissolved in water. You shoved them in your pocket and sat still when she jabbed you with the pain relief.
The canteen happened to have soup on and you grabbed a bowl to take with you, returning to your room to wallow in your own pain and misery. You wondered again how one person could have such strength in them.
Late in the evening a knock came to your door. You opened it, expecting at least one of your friends to visit. Instead it was Abby. You didn’t flinch this time but she did, looking you over again. You opened the door wider again but she only made her observations and left, stalking down the corridor out of sight.
///
The pattern of your days continued this way for the first week. Mel and Nora allowed you three pain injections but you didn’t bother taking the fourth, just accepting calorie packs and retreating to your room.
Abby visited very evening, looked you over and then left. Every evening you offered for her to come in to your room. Every evening she turned on her heel. You were kind of getting used to watching her walk away.
Not for the first time in your life did you wish she was in some way queer. What you would give to climb her like a tree. But unfortunately her only relationship had been Owen and the rare times she had slept with anyone since it was always a man.
Not for lack of women trying. She had shot them all down stating she was in fact straight. It had probably caused more of the antagonism between you both as a means to keep yourself from getting hurt.
On the tenth day your eye was able to open all the way again. You didn’t seem to have any damage to your vision which was a lot more than you had expected if you were being truthful.
The swelling was going down in your face. It still hurt a little to chew and you hadn’t been speaking all that much but you’d soon be fit to return to work.
That evening you waited when Abby knocked instead of answering the door right away. She shifted for a minute, stepping closer to the door and further away again before knocking a second time.
You opened the door but turned away before she could look at you, returning to your bed and pressing play on the movie you had put in just before she arrived. “If you’re coming to have your nightly stare then you better come in and do it.”
Your voice was more of a croak and you had to clear your throat twice to get the words out. It was just from a lack of use because opening your mouth still hurt.
Abby lingered outside your door for a few seconds before she stepped over the threshold and shut the door behind her. There was no light on in the room but you knew the tv was bright enough to show her what she wanted to see.
“Looks better.” She spoke for the first time since you had left her in that aquarium. You hadn’t expected her to but it made for a nice change.
“It is better. No lasting damage to my eye, the headaches are gone and I can open my mouth again.” You didn’t tell her it hurt to open your mouth. She didn’t need to know that. “Just need to be careful with pressure or impact to my cheekbone. It’s a stable fracture right now but any further damage will need surgery.”
Abby flinched in the darkness, almost standing by your bed now. You didn’t look at her, not directly. She hesitated, hand reaching out and dropping back again. “I’m-”
“You can put the clothes on my desk and bring the chair over. Manny sent this movie up for me to watch. He knows I’ve always liked these movies.” You huff and hold the box out to Abby who took it from you. It’s one of those movies that leave you with more questions than answers. You have to ask the older people in the compound about certain elements of the movie and get them explained to you.
Wild Child came out in 2008, a whole five years before the outbreak happened. Watching how teenagers experienced lives back then gave you an understanding of what had been lost.
Abby sets the movie box down and moves to lift the pile of clothes from the chair and place them on your desk as instructed. The opening scene of the movie begins and you focus on it.
///
You woke alone the clothes back in a pile on your chair and the television switched off. An extra blanket had been placed over you and you didn’t have to ask why with the temperature of the room. Winter had landed in Seattle.
Your bruises were fading, mostly just the point of impact a weird shade just off your usual skin tone. The swelling had also receded and while opening and closing your mouth caused stiffness, it didn’t really hurt that much.
Nora’s probing fingers still made you wince in the infirmary, indicating the fracture wasn’t healed enough to let you back on active duty. Something she reiterated to Isaac who ordered you take a few more days. You didn’t argue with him even though you wanted to. You knew better than that.
That night you and Abbey watched Pitch Perfect. Another movie that left you with many questions. You had a fascination with high school and college. You would’ve been facing all of it right now had nothing happened.
Right as the movie ended Abby whispered your name. You pretended not to hear her, letting your eyes fall shut to see what she would do. She eased herself from the chair quietly and moved it back to its place. The weight of a second blanket landed over you again.
Most surprising was the delicate stroke of her finger over the point of impact her fist had made almost two weeks beforehand. “I’m sorry.”
You hadn’t let her say it. Interrupting her each time. Neither of you talked besides you telling Abby what the movie would be called. And her aborted attempt to apologize each time.
///
“Boo fucking yah, baby. Back and better than ever.” You swung yourself up onto the bed of the truck and slapped your hand down on Manny’s shoulder. “Get the fuck out of my seat, big man.”
Manny grunted but shifted over to the passenger side. Owen and Nora hauled themselves up onto the bed of the truck, Alice taking her place at their feet. “How are you feeling?”
“Nora, thanks to your excellent care I am a new woman.” You pumped your fist before revving your engine and tearing out of the compound as fast as you could with shouts of complaints from the others. “I’m so fucking excited to be outside that I think I’m actually high off fresh air.”
“You’re fucking crazy, is what you are.” Manny laughed from the passenger seat as you raised a gear and hit the road, swerving around abandoned vehicles. “You know people used to just drive all over the country and call them road trips? They’d just drive all day. For fun.”
“None of them ever drive with you. Nothing fun about it.” Owen called and you rolled your eyes at his withdrawn tone. You didn’t like Owen all that much. Mostly cause he had what you had wanted and had given it all up. For Mel. A downgrade if you were being honest.
“Shut up, Owen. She’s enjoying freedom and still having sight in both eyes.” Manny cheered and you pumped your fist again. “Both hands on the wheel!”
The patrol had been successful, scouting warehouses further out of the territory the WLF owned. There was great rewards in an old movie rental place and you even got to take down two runners.
When you returned the keys to the truck and your weapons you found Abby waiting at the door to the canteen, arms crossed. She barely spoke to Owen or Nora, slapping her palm to Manny’s when he held his out. She gave you the typical once over you had grown so used to.
There was no longer evidence of your injury. Your cheekbone had healed, you were as loud as ever and yet Abby still visited your room every night to check on you.
“I didn’t know Isaac approved your return to active duty yet.” It was the most she had said to you in a month and you froze in place like a scolded child.
“Last minute decision he made this morning. The others needed an extra set of hands and Nora signed me off two days ago.” You weren’t sure why you were explaining yourself. Or why you were so nervous when Abby stepped closer to you. You didn’t retreat though, not this time.
“How did it go?” She asked quietly, another step in your direction. You swallowed your nerves when she entered your personal space, the tip of her boots barely a hair’s breadth from yours. “See any scars or infected?”
“Um, a few runners. Nothing major.” You told her and she smiled blandly, her hand raising to your face. You flinched minutely and she froze but you moved closer, granting her permission to touch you. Her thumb soothed the barely these scar from where the impact of the very hand that she was being so gentle with right now had split your flesh that day.
“What’s on the watch list tonight?” She asked softly. You were too lost in the caress of her thumb to answer her and she chuckled, letting her hand fall. “You hear me?”
“Sorry, what?” You blinked at her and she laughed again, lowly so that only you would hear it. She took a step back and you snapped back to the present instead of floating above your body. “Oh, uh. I found the fourth Harry Potter movie. So now we’ve the full set and can watch them.”
“Eight movies to watch.” She hummed and you nodded. “That’s a lot of time spent together.”
“Mhmm.” You nodded and she laughed at how distracted you clearly were.
“I’ll see you later then.”
///
You knew how it looked. It looked bad. It looked desperate. It looked like you were the unluckiest bastard on this earth. It looked like you were an idiot.
A knock sounded at the door.
It looked like you were out of time.
Abby let herself into your room while you stood frozen with your back to her. You heard the steps she took and then how she paused a little away from you. Your shoulders tensed and she took another step closer.
“If you wanted me in your bed that bad you only had to ask.” She laughed quietly and your shoulders relaxed. The broken chair no longer an omen of all things bad. You had been standing on it while changing a lightbulb and the leg had given up.
The chair had been old when you had gotten it. That had been years ago. You weren’t surprised just more annoyed at the timing. “I was changing a lightbulb.”
“Is that right? You get it changed?” Abby asked as you turned to face her. Your breath hitched. It hadn’t been warm in months in Seattle. Especially not on base in the concrete rooms without insulation.
But there Abby was in a tank top and sweatpants like it was the middle of summer. You wanted the ground to open and swallow you now because you knew you’d embarrass yourself.
Her shoulders and arms were bared to you, the muscle definition making you feel physically faint. You wanted her to pick you up and toss you around. You were half tempted to piss her off enough that she’d punch you again.
“Well, did you?” You blinked at Abby for several long seconds before realizing she had asked a question. One you hadn’t heard because you were too busy wondering if there was a position that would let you grind on her bicep.
“Did I what?” You asked her, shaking your head. She looked up to the lightbulb and back to your hand. It was an empty socket and you had two bulbs in your hand. She held her hand out to you.
“Give it here.” You handed the new bulb over and she reached up, just barely stretching herself and slotted the bulb in. You reached out for the switch and grinned when the light came on just to turn it back off. It was too bright for movie night.
“You’re handy to have around, you know that?” You asked her with a smile and she laughed at you. You kicked the broken chair out of the way and crawled into the inner corner of your bed.
“I’ve got plenty more skills where that came from.” She assured you while you arranged the pillows. When you turned to look at her strained voice you found her staring at you. Or well, your ass.
You pursed your lips and tucked yourself into the corner of your bed, hitting play on the tv. Abby only hesitated for a moment before sitting down on the bed and kicking her shoes off.
She leaned back against the headboard of your bed, one long leg stretched in front of her, the other bent at the knee. Her muscle definition was apparent through her sweatpants and you wanted to ride her thigh so bad you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from saying it.
This pattern continued for the length of the eight days it took to watch Harry Potter. She sat the same way each night and each night you watched her thigh and her arm closest to you more than you watched the movie.
As per tradition at this point, Abby would say your name at the end of the movie and then usually tuck you in except this time she didn’t say anything when the credits rolled and you realized she was asleep.
You wanted to wake her, let her go back to her room. But she was fast asleep and she had slid most the way down the bed that she wasn’t going to hurt herself to sleep in that position. You turned the movie off and turned your back to her and let her sleep.
///
Warm. It was so fucking warm. Your body was melting, you were almost sure of it. You blinked your eyes open and groaned quietly. Was the compound on fire or something? What was with the heat?
Your body froze at the huff of breath against your neck. Abby surrounded you right now and you could feel her all over. She had managed to spoon you during the night, your head pillowed on her bicep, her other hand wrapped around your waist. Her big hand rested on your sternum, right between your breasts and you couldn’t help the pulse of arousal.
Her face was tucked up against your neck and her steady breathing let you know she hadn’t woken yet. So you did the cowardly thing and relaxed back into her hold, letting yourself enjoy it.
You drifted off to sleep again apparently because when you woke Abby was shifting around behind you but hadn’t actually moved away yet. “What time ‘s it?”
Abby froze when you spoke but you felt her twist to look at your clock. “Uh, early. Almost eight.”
“Got anywhere to be?” You asked, your hand moving to stop the slow retreat of her arm around your waist. She froze again and you waited for her to make a decision.
“Not until twelve. I’m headed out with Owen and Nora.” She was whispering right in your ear and you couldn’t help the shiver.
“Mm, you’re heading out with me, Owen and Mel.” You corrected her, shuffling back into her hold. “It’ll be fun, me and the love triangle that hates me.”
“Hates you? Does it look like I hate you?” Abby asked and you hummed, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t hate you.”
“Then go back to sleep, Abs.” You huffed and she laughed against your neck, tightening her arms around you.
///
“Owen, get out of my passenger seat right the fuck now.” You pulled yourself up onto the bed of the truck and Owen looked panicked. Mel shared his look and you stared between them. “What?”
“Abby is coming with us.” Mel told you quietly like it was a secret. “We weren’t aware that you were driving.”
“I know Abby is coming?” You looked between them, confused. “That’s why I want Owen out of the passenger seat.”
Abby arrived on the scene and pulled herself up, looking between all three of you. “Am I interrupting something here?”
“We didn’t know you two had been cleared to work together.” Mel spoke up against the silence and you laughed. “She shattered your cheek bone, it’s a viable worry.”
“Firstly, it was a stable fracture. It’s all healed up and I’m not saying I deserved it but we all know why I got it.” You slotted yourself into the drivers seat. “Besides, Abby apologized.”
“Apologized?” Mel asked, dubious. Owen moved from the passenger seat, his eyes narrowed between you both as Abby took his place.
“That thing that neither of you ever did after screwing around behind my back?” Abby asked and the truck fell silent. You bit your lip to hide your smile before starting your engine.
Mel and Owen took their seats quickly and you tore out of the compound with a whoop and an accompanied bark from Shadow.
The patrol stayed quiet, moving from building to building in silence. It was driving you up the wall. You kept Shadow with you, moving around each room, checking for anything that might be of use.
“Think they might hate me as much as they hate you now?” You didn’t jump when Abby spoke but you did have to fight the urge. You turned from where you were rifling through a cabinet to find her leaning on the door frame. She took up the whole door way and you salivated just a little.
“Nope. Because you only repeated what I already called them out on.” You told her, returning to your cabinet which just seemed to hold old office supplies.
“You called them out on sneaking around behind my back?” Abby asked. You could hear her walking closer as you tossed decaying reams of paper out of your way.
“Mhmm.” You hummed, stuffing some markers in your bag. There were still in the packaging so you had high hopes they hadn’t dried out yet. She stopped behind you, you could feel her body heat.
“Why would you do that?” She asked and you shrugged, shuffling sideways to the next cabinet, she followed you. “When did you do it?”
“Like five minutes after you broke my face.” You shrugged and found bags of rubber bands that had all eroded with age. You tossed them all aside before standing up. You still didn’t turn around but you knew Abby was close behind you. She pressed closer when you were straightened up.
“Why would you come to my defense right after I had hurt you?” She asked, her large hands coming to rest either side of yours on the counter top. She was flush against you, her size difference almost overwhelming.
“Because no one ever seemed to come to your defense.” You told her honestly and you felt her huff a laugh against your hair. One of her arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you back tight against her. “I figured someone should.”
“Thank you.” You knew you probably weren’t imagining the barely there kiss to the crown of your head but a low growl from Shadow had you both spring apart.
“There’s something in here with us.” Abby muttered, loading her gun. You copied her actions and backed away from the door, maneuvering to the left of it while Abby took the right so you could both see either angle.
Whilst you and Abby had never gotten on, you were flawless patrol partners and it was evident in how you both worked, taking out two runners and a clicker with enough time for you to be sitting on a table, legs swinging and Abby to be thumbing through a magazine so weathered she couldn’t possibly be reading it.
That was how Owen and Mel found you both and they shared a look between themselves at both of your casual displays and the pile of infected between you both.
“Everything okay?” Owen asked cautiously. You looked up at him and smiled, hopping off the table. “Any injuries?”
“Nope. I got one runner and Abby got the other two.” A fact she was annoyingly proud of and you were irrationally bothered by. “You did good, Abs. I might let you be the little spoon tonight.”
Everyone in the room froze but you and Shadow who followed you out past a frozen Mel and Owen toward the truck. Soon the other three followed you, Abby slipping into your passengers seat. She was fighting a smile so you knew you weren’t in trouble with her.
///
You had gotten so used to Abby letting herself in that you had kind of forgotten that she did it. So when you stepped out of the bathroom with just a towel on and found her sitting on your bed, you didn’t really know what to do.
She gave you the usual once over before smiling at you. It wasn’t a nice smile. It was mean. Something that made your stomach fill with nerves and a wet pulse start up between your legs.
She was sitting on your bed, both legs stretched out in front of her. She patted a hand to her lap and you stared at her, incredulous. “Come on sweetheart, we both know you want this.”
You moved towards her hesitantly and paused a few steps from the bed. “You came early.”
“I did. I was hoping to talk about that little spoon comment but right now I don’t care. Sit on my lap.” It wasn’t much of a question, not the way she phrased it. You swallowed roughly again, looking back to the bathroom.
Abby wouldn’t hurt you. She also wouldn’t judge you if you wanted to retreat right now. You knew both of those things to be fact. The truth was that you didn’t want to retreat. She knew that.
It was an awkward shuffle getting onto her lap but that’s where she took over, maneuvering you so that you were straddling one thigh, one hand on her shoulder for balance and the other holding your towel together. “You don’t think I know that you’re watching me all the damn time?”
“I thought, I didn’t think you were into women.” You told her, suddenly shy in the face of this abrasive, domineering Abby. She only huffed a laugh and shook her head.
“I’m not. Never have been.” She told you and you froze in place, unsure where this was going. She bent her knee, her thigh tensing and you couldn’t help the moan, falling forward so your face was in the curve where her neck met her shoulder. “I’m sure as fuck into you though. I don’t know what it means but I know what I want to do about it.”
“Abby.” You whispered and her hands landed on your hips, pushing and pulling you into a slow grind against her thigh. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly it. I’m gonna fuck you.” She promised. When your hips had taken the rhythm she found acceptable her hands began to move. One travelled up the length of your back, up your neck, to cup the back of your head, holding you in place against her. The other tugged your towel free. “Gonna let you hump my thigh first like a bitch in heat. Then I’m gonna get my fingers into you, see how tight your little hole is.”
You whined against her neck, the friction of her sweatpants and the heat of her words had you burning up. “Please.”
“Yeah, you’ll beg me so pretty. Cause once you come on my fingers I’m getting down there to taste you. Cause I know you’ll be the best fucking meal I’ll ever have.” She groaned in your ear and your hands travelled to her biceps, your nails digging in. “And once I’ve done all of that? I’m gonna fuck you with my strap.”
“You, where’d you?” You were barely able to get your thoughts together enough to ask her about the strap. “Why?”
“Just cause I wasn’t fucking women doesn’t mean I wasn’t fucking anyone.” Your head tipped back when your breathing sped up. You lost the rhythm on her thigh just bucking against her as your orgasm washed over you. Abby leaned forward and the harsh bite of her teeth made you scream. “Not over yet, Sweet Girl. Just getting started.”
///
“Abby, Abby, Abby.” Every stroke of her cock had you chanting her name. She had you on all fours, her large hands on your hips and pulling you back on her forcefully. You weren’t sure if you knew words other than her name and please. She had fucked it all out of you.
One hand slid from your hip up your front and with a hand around your neck she pulled you up so your back was flush against her chest. Her grip on your neck was loose but you felt your breathing hitch. “Oh you like that.”
Her hand tightened around your neck and you gave in entirely, your orgasm washing over you and your mouth falling open in ecstasy as Abby wrung every last drop of pleasure from your body.
She pushed against you, friction from the strap driving her towards her own orgasm as she humped against you desperately. She some how managed to control the fall after coming so that you were both on your side.
“Thought you wanted to be the little spoon this time?” You asked her breathlessly and she huffed a laugh from behind you.
“Thought I fucked that attitude out of you.”
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bunnys-kisses · 2 months
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the group chat (max's version)
max verstappen
cw: smut/pwp, filming, exhibitionism, yacht sex, alcohol, semi-public sex, missionary, loud & sloppy,
bunny says: this is part of a multi-part series where each chapter is with a different driver. each revolving around the idea of the driver's group chat, how would they film you two fucking for the enjoyment of the others?
want another driver? find your fave here!
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the group chat was an infamous piece of insight into the lives of formula one drivers. at least that's what people thought, in all honesty it was rather boring. there was some gossip here and there, but for the most part it was rather quiet.
until the drivers woke up to a pretty big file sent to the chat. labeled "3gO395867CB.mp4" this video gave no indication of what the contents were and only the most curious of the drivers opened it.
"you ready, mijn liefje?" max's voice came from behind the camera. he had it propped up against something and walked to where you were.
the viewer of the video could clearly make out your naked boat, seated on the top part of max's boat. you had your arms stretched out slightly behind you and your ankles crossed. the look in your eye read how dedicated you were to max.
he stood close to you and reached out. his thumb grazed you bottom lip as he said, "you didn't answer me."
you replied, "ready as i'll ever be."
"you know they're watching." he said as he peeled off his briefs and stepped out of them. your lips went right for his cock, but he grabbed you by the hair to stop you, "not today."
he got down beside you and his hands were all over you. especially the hand that snaked between your legs. his lips were at your neck where he was leaving a trail of pretty bruises.
he fingered you while he kissed your neck, he soaked in your moans knowing that the camera was capturing every second of their intimacy on the boat. max verstappen's cute girlfriend, the one who always knew how to light him up after a bad loss.
there you were on camera while your three-time championship boyfriend fingered the fuck out of you. your noises were pornographic, it made max's cock twitch.
"jij bent mijn brave meid, toch?"
you nodded, "ja schatje." your response was almost fluent dutch, which made the champion chuckle before he pulled you in for another searing kiss.
he laid out out on the couch and felt up your body, "look at the camera and tell them how you're feeling." his voice was a comforting feeling but it still made you run hot.
his touch was electric, "tell them." he encouraged.
it took a few moments to build up courage before you waved to the camera as if you weren't naked and about to be fucked. "hi, guys." you said, "um, i guess we're going to put a show on for all of you today." you giggled, "so enjoy."
"tell them how you feel?"
"sunburnt..." there was a pause, "and horny. we were drinking earlier which led to this happening." you looked up at max, "so you better fuck me off before you wrapped your arms around his neck.
he kissed at your heated cheeks, "always will." before he lifted your hips and got you in the right position to slip his cock inside of you. he fit like a glove with little resistance. he made a noise like air was caught in his throat before he coughed out, "neuken."
you two have had sex multiple times. it wasn't a surprise that your pussy was just too good for him. but every time he forgets how good it felt. you wrapped your legs around him.
the sound of the water hitting the boat accompanied the sounds of your heavy breathing and moaning. there was no telling exactly where you were other than it was quiet enough for you to be fucking on the deck and it was a bright sunny day out.
max went in for another searing kiss as he continued to thrust into you. your body moved against him as he laid his chest against yours. your hands explored his toned back, nails dug into the skin when he hit a particular spot.
the kisses you sloppy and loud, paired with your moans and the peacefulness of the ocean. the viewer was left to wonder if anyone could even catch you. maybe that was the risk of it all, the idea of being caught.
he still tasted like the gun and tonics he had earlier. his face kissed by the sun till it was red. sweat down his bare back as he thrusted up into you. you could almost forget that this entire thing was being filmed.
max's praises were sloppy as were his kisses. the fire in your belly burned hot as he continued to move against you. you raked your nails down his back as he rutted into you.
"cum for me" he panted, "i want them to see what face you make when i make you feel good."
you panted, a sarcastic comment hung on your tongue but never came out. your head was too flushed with hot pleasure. you tensed up around him and finished with a loud moan.
max drank in the sight of you hyped up on intense pleasure. he flashed a knowing smile to the camera. he may be sharing the intimate moment between you two, but it didn't mean he was going to share you.
it was loud, sloppy fucking on a yacht. a symbol of power and wealth that max had at his disposal. you kept your legs around him as he continued to thrust into you.
when pleasure sank its teeth into him, he grabbed you by the meat of your hips and gave two hard thrusts of his hips before he spilled himself into you. he coated the inside of your pussy with white cum.
"holy shit."
"max."
"i know. catch your breath." he replied as he pushed hair out of your face. even blissed out you looked like his dream girl. what a special little thing you were!
max then slowly pulled out and let you be laid out on the couch. your breathing was heavy and your skin glowed in the afternoon light. felt lightheaded as you watched the driver get up to turn off the video.
the camera got a good view of max's cock, shiny with your wetness as he picked up the device and turned off the video. the file ended.
the message attached to the video was, "what mine isn't yours. don't ask for a taste. if tomorrow's race goes well, then you'll get another one."
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pathologicalreid · 12 days
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I'm a terrible writer but always get good ideas lmao
Idk if you've ever seen friends or not but there is this one scene where Rachel and Ross go to a sonogram appt and she has a whole breakdown cause all she saw on the sonogram was a blob and not a baby. (I'm pretty sure it was like their first appt or something idk)
I'm a sucker for dad!spence and you're one of my favorite writers for him.
Feel free to totally ignore this if this is trash lol💓
amorphous | S.R.
your first appointment goes exactly how you expected it to, but not at all how you wanted it to
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff w/ comfort content warnings: pregnancy, ultrasounds, doctors, pregnancy symptoms, emetophobia warning word count: 795 a/n: i have never seen friends but i hope that this fic does your request justice. ilysm.
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You put on a brave face as you accepted your appointment card from the secretary, thanking her for her time before sliding the card into your pocket, trusting that Spencer would remember the date and time of your next appointment.
Everyone had tried to prepare you for this appointment. At eight weeks, all you were going to do was confirm that you were actually pregnant and make sure that you were measuring accurately. The internet told you that was going to happen. Spencer told you that was going to happen. Your OB told you that was going to happen.
None of that prevented the sheer disappointment you felt while leaving the obstetrician’s office. You lagged behind Spencer, taking the steps to the parking lot considerably slower than he was.
It didn’t take him long to notice, keenly aware of your every move as if he had developed a paternal superpower, your husband waited for you at the bottom of the steps. “What’s wrong?”
You opened your mouth to respond, gesturing over to the building before shrugging, “I thought it would help,” you confessed, sticking out your bottom lip in disappointment.
Spencer’s gaze softened as he ushered you off to the side and out of other people’s way. He knew you had been struggling with the lack of visibility that early pregnancy had. You hadn’t told friends and family yet, the only people who knew – aside from medical professionals – were the two of you.
“I just wanted to see it,” you mumbled, looking sheepishly to the ground. “I thought it would make it feel real.”
He nodded in understanding, using the pads of his thumbs to deftly wipe away any stray tears on your cheeks, “You saw the screen though, right?”
You thought you had been looking at the screen, but maybe you had been so distracted by the transducer that your brain hadn’t processed what you had seen. The baby hadn’t been in a good enough position for you to hear the heartbeat.
“Here,” Spencer said, setting his hands on your upper arms before guiding you over to an empty bench. Once you were sat, he dug through your purse and produced the sonogram images that you had been given.
Suspiciously, you eyed the black and white pictures that Spencer had gently set in your lap, “It just… it’s just a little white blob.”
Maintaining your attention, Spencer pointed at the picture, “Do you see this part here? That’s the head,” he dragged his finger over slightly, “There’s the body,” he showed you. Guiding you through the sonogram, showing you every part in hope that it would console you.
“I just…” you faltered, looking at the photos as you tried to see it as a baby instead of a blob, “I don’t have a bump, we couldn’t hear the heartbeat, I guess… I guess I wanted some sign that they’re okay in there.”
Crouched down in front of you, Spencer cocked his head to the side, “Honey, what’s the first thing you did this morning?”
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “I showered?”
Spencer shook his head, “Even before that, the very first thing you did this morning,” he encouraged you.
Your face warmed as your eyes flittered up to his, “I threw up.”
“And do you know what made you so sick?” He asked pointedly. Smiling timidly, you looked down at the photos with a newfound fondness, “The baby.”
He nodded, “Every morning that you wake up nauseous and every time you’re tired in the middle of the day are all little signs that they’re doing just fine.”
You sniffled slightly, wiping tears from your face with the sleeve of your sweater, “I’m sorry,” you murmured, “You probably think I’m being so dramatic.”
“I think you’re scared, and it’s okay to feel that way,” he reassured you. “We’re gonna see them again, okay? Next time we go they’ll be more than three times bigger. Our little blob will have tiny arms and legs.”
You frowned down at the pictures, still frustrated that this was all you had, “Twelve weeks feel so far away.” You had scheduled your nuchal scan for the end of next month, which felt like eons into the future.
Spencer smiled at up at you, “It’ll be here before you know it,” he told you softly, “No more tears, okay? I still have an hour before I have to go to work, did you want to get something to eat?”
Nodding softly, you put the photos back in your purse before standing up, “Yeah, maybe something with raspberries? That’s how big my phone says the baby is – the size of a raspberry.”
Tilting his head back slightly, Spencer chuckled at your proposition, “Absolutely, we’ll find the best raspberry dish in the district.”
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prideprejudce · 1 month
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I think alot more people would enjoy the show if they learned to see Rhaenyra and Alicent as Unreliable Narrators, and characters who are supposed to have glaring flaws and weaknesses.
Mandatory preface- There are Issues™️ with season 2 that are its own other ask- but the complaints ive seen about character assassination on both women kind of tells me ppl just wanted to see the two just GirlBossing around, not being tragic characters trapped in their own circumstances.
For Alicent specifically- she just isn't written to be Cersei 2.0, and while it was really interesting to see motherhood from cersei's point of view, its already been done!! I actually prefer seeing Alicent's mercurial clinging to and abandoning motherhood- its interesting!! She was made a mother at what- 15? An age where you truly arent mentally developed enough to raise 3 kids, AND be a child bride, AND be a queen, (AND be a lesbian).
Alicent is interesting to me because she's stunted at 15 years old, she's an adult woman who talks to and sometimes bullies her kids as if they are her peers, and is obsessed with her childhood crush(es). She hasn't built any new relationships* past the ones she was entangled with as a teenager, she's obsessed with both acting out to make SOMEONE see that shes suffering, (she's honestly pretty blatant for someone who prides themselves on being the Temperate Voice of Reason) but also to erase herself and reset to before she had to marry the king, before aemma died.
I think most of her 'bad out of character' decisions are just these two impulses winning out, her trying to force a reset, go back to a time where none of this had happened yet, when things were simpler and she had love and every day wasn't the worst day of her life™️.
She sleeps with cole, the man she thought was pretty at 15 (her last uncomplicated attraction just before it all went wrong and aemma died) -she doesnt seem to like it that much, but she does seem compelled to seek him out, esp when upset- shes obsessed with, and desperate to reconnect with Rhaenyra, her childhood best friend (and first love) and get back to where they were as kids, AND she still treats and asks her father for absolution as if he's still the only authority that matters to her just like she did at 15. Alot of her 'victim complex/bewildered they took it so far' behaviour in the plotting of rhaenyra's usurption reads to me like a teenager in over her head, she talked big game and now its real and shes panicking!! She's tragic BECAUSE she's still a teenager- so stunted shes unable to meaningfully grow up and learn to make healthier choices for herself, or move on and stop trying to grasp at the 'if i could just go back' urge.
As a mother, I think this creates an interesting dynamic as well, and I do like that in the casting even, she seems closer in age to her kids than rhaenyra does to hers. I think the contrast ppl are drawing with Alicent Protecting Her Kids in season1 compared to her giving them up in season two isn't bad writing to me, just massive differences in context. Sure she protected Aemond in driftmark, but we cant ignore that she probably felt humiliated by her husband choosing rhaenyra's side over hers in front of everyone, did it seem like a grown woman fighting for her son?? or a teenager furious with her ex winning one over her again? or both!! both sides twisted together is still interesting! When she protected Aegon from Rhaenys, is stepping in front of her son the king to protect him from the enemies dragon fire not the most romantic daydream of a deserving death a child bride could come up with?? Was it the impulse to protect the son she couldnt decide if she loved or hated, or was it to have the most heroic death possible to escape the reality that she sees coming. And if Rhaenyra hears about how Brave she was in the face of a dragons maw, and cries about it forever and feels sooo bad and regrets it til the day she dies, thats an added bonus. I think Alicent loves her kids, but is teenager selfish about HOW she loves and protects her kids, and is unable to be a mature, consistant, protective mother to them when she also sees them as having ruined her life. I think in season 2 when she 'gives them up' shes relieved, and once again following the compulsion of 'if i reset to when Rhaenyra was heir, i had no sons, and i wasn't married or queen, everything will be better'. I think theres complexity to it, i think she does love her sons and feels insane about it, but I think Alicent has been trying to Go Back in more and more Intense ways ever since she got married, and we might be giving her sanity more credit than it deserves when it comes to the need to wipe the board clean and go back to being 15.
hey anon are you trying to get married to me or what
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princessbrunette · 2 months
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flirting with people that weren’t lord!rafe went against his house rules. duh. you knew that. what you didn’t realise, was that being flirted with was also a punishable offence — even though it wasn’t your fault.
maybe punishment was too dramatic of a term. but, rafe was very big on ‘sending a message’, which is exactly what he was doing as he had you totally naked— bent over the bed with his dick wedged inside you to the hilt. he pants, toned chest rising and falling as he adjusts his stance, his phone pressed to his ear.
he hadn’t said much to whoever was on the other end, but you knew from the small amounts of context given that it was him. one of rafe’s work friends had attended one of the infamous parties at tannyhill. with that, you instantly caught his attention. you were polite, not sure what to do as you assumed rafe thought highly of this man he works with, so when he was all but forcing his advances on you, perhaps you didn’t try hard enough to shoo him away. he’d grabbed you, complimented you, and when he’d pulled you onto his lap you quickly had found an excuse to get up. touching anyone but rafe did feel wrong at this point, and you’d dread to get in trouble.
his ringed hand slides slowly up your back, until he reaches the back of your neck — pushing you a little firmer against the luxurious bedsheets before slowly drawing back and grinding his cock through you. you shudder, breath hitching in your throat with a pathetic squeak and to match this a barely audible chorus of quiet, yearning moans from the doorway — rafes harem of apparent nymphomaniacs gathered to watch the show. he takes no notice of them, eyes on where you connect.
“i guess… i guess when you look the way you do everyone’s gonna want you, right? can’t really— can’t really get mad at you for that.” he addresses you this time, and you stay quiet, not wanting to step out of line. you’re drenched, walls spasming around him with enough need to drive you crazy. the pace he was going was torturous. now, rafe addresses the man on the phone.
“and you’re gonna listen to this, a’ight— gonna listen to every god damn sound. you—you know you really shouldn’t touch what’s not yours.” he drawls into the receiver as he speeds up. the bed starts to creak as rafe fucks into you, and you can’t hold back the whines and mewls that fall from you. “yeah.” he grunts out in approval as you do so.
you fuck back against him as best as you can from that position, and to reward you — he wedges his phone between his ear and shoulder and shoves a now free hand beneath you to grind his fingers against your clit as you fuck on him. your legs twitch, and you’re already getting close seeing as rafe had been working at this for ages.
“oh rafe — rafe!” you moan loudly, voice breaking and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“yeah, what’s my fuckin’ name, huh?” he picks up the phone, holding it up between you to pick you up better.
“rafe!”
“and who am i? tell him.”
“my lord!”
rafe stills suddenly, before pressing the phone back to his ear breathlessly. “you hear that? i’m her god damn lord. you touch my girl again, and i won’t be so nice alright?”
impatiently, he hangs up and tosses his phone aside before suddenly both hands are back on you and he’s putting his all in — fucking you through your orgasm and also his until it was bordering on painful.
catching his breath in the aftermath, you lay in fetal position as he sits up beside you with a cigar. rafe has one hand on your back, absentmindedly tracing your spine — and the rest of the girls had scurried off, leaving the two of you in silent solace. you brave a question through a cracked, broken voice.
“why didn’t he just hang up the phone?” it’s barely a whisper as you roll over to face rafe, looking up at him through sticky eyelashes. he stares ahead, nonchalantly shrugging one shoulder with downturned lips.
“uh, he just didn’t have the hands to do that anymore i’m afraid.”
you get a weird sinking feeling in your stomach, now piecing together that this man wasn’t willingly on the phone to rafe, more so being forced by his goons. you sit up a little on your elbow, eyeing him.
“rafe, did you hurt him?”
you sound so innocent, he can’t help but chuckle.
“no, uh— i didn’t.”
you decided not to ask anymore questions.
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hawkinsbnbg · 3 months
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Fuckboy Eddie and his heart-stealer Steve
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Eddie who never did relationships because he thought he wasn't made for them, and Steve who was used to people falling in love with him and blamed him for breaking their hearts when he didn't reciprocate their feelings.
Somehow, they met, hooked up twice, and struck a deal: fun time only with no strings attached.
After months of fooling around, talking, and sharing tender moments together, Eddie was forced to accept that he was head over ass for Steve Harrington—the very man he had sworn up and down to not fall in love with.
At first, Eddie wanted to deny it, to scoff at the absurdity. Although Steve was his type: pretty, bitchy, funny, and kind-hearted, the man was also everything he stood against: preppy, vain, and oblivious.
And yet, the more he got to know Steve, the more endeared he was to Steve's 'less attractive' sides. It caused him to reevaluate his entire personal doctrine and wonder if he really ever found Steve unattractive at all.
The answer was a big 'No' glaring back at him like a bad joke, leaving him no place to be in denial.
Meanwhile, Steve also realized the subtle changes in Eddie. The longing looks, the lingering touches, the carnal desire in between kisses, the mindless affectionate gestures, and the fond smiles Eddie would give him when he said or did something silly.
Steve should've felt relieved that their feelings were mutual, but he panicked instead. Because what if Eddie only liked the idea of him? What if Eddie regretted catching feelings for him after seeing his real self? Pathetic and not worthy of love?
What if he fucked this all up and made Eddie hate him like many other people in the past? What then?
For the first time, Steve was unsure of his situation. He couldn't afford to lose Eddie by ending things between them, or admit his feelings to the other man unless he wanted to break his own heart.
In the end, he chose to say nothing, to keep up his façade, pretend that he didn't see the yearning in Eddie's eyes and knew he was never brave enough to take that one step.
However, Steve had underestimated one thing—Eddie's obsession with him.
"I love you," hot lips planted on his ear as his ass was plowed from behind.
Bracing his hands on the headboard, Steve choked on his breath, not trusting himself to hear it right. He was about to ignore it when Eddie started talking again.
"You don't have to say it back. Gonna wait for you however long it takes," Eddie let out a low groan when Steve clenched down suddenly.
The pace was picked up, each thrust was aimed precisely at Steve's prostate, strong arms kept his shaking body stay upright, sturdy chest pressed flush against his back, warm breath tickled his clammy skin as the husky voice whispered in his ear again.
"Yeah, s'a promise, sweetheart. Gonna follow you til the end of the world. Gonna be your ghost and shadow. Gonna stay w'you even in death,” sharp teeth sank into soft flesh, wanting to draw blood and leave marks behind. "We'll be buried in the same coffin and corroded together. Intermingled until we become one."
It was unsettling how both insane and lovesick Eddie sounded. Even in the haze of his arousal, Steve could feel himself tremble, could hear himself moan brokenly at the stinging pain and the heady sensation that zipped down his spine.
It's him! Steve’s heart sang, soaring and dancing merrily.
He knew he had found his one. The person who would love him without holding back.
“Then make me yours,” Steve craned his neck to meet those dark wild eyes. “Keep me, brand me.”
There was no pause or hesitation when a hand came up and wrapped around his throat like a collar.
“Mine,” Eddie growled and tightened his fingers further, hips pistoning without restraint, driving himself deeper and deeper into the constricting heat.
Steve’s eyes rolled back, mouth dropped open, and tongue lolled out. Spit and drool dribbled down his chin as he gasped for air, holding onto the headboard for dear life as Eddie pounded into him in earnest.
Whatever came afterward had passed in a blur, Steve was too out of it to remember much else besides the endless pleasure that kept crashing over him, overwhelming and intoxicant.
By the time they were done, he was an incoherent mess, unable to think straight or even move a limb.
Eddie didn't seem to mind, though. The man had cleaned him up efficiently in their joined shower, put him in comfy pjs, ordered his favorite takeouts, and hand-fed him until he was drowsy from fullness. All the while giving him small kisses, telling him sweet promises and things that were too good to be true.
As he slowly drifted off in Eddie’s arms, he knew they still had so much to discuss the next time they woke up with clearer minds and calmer hearts.
But for now, Steve was content to let his boyfriend take care of him, knowing he was in good hands.
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traumawhomst · 23 days
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Ok but adoptive Fae King Dad rotating in my mind like a rotisserie chicken.
(800 words)
At first he thought you were a perfect chance to teach some humans a lesson. Letting a child walk alone in woods where Fae were known to live? Someone was going to learn sooner or later.
He stood dramatically waiting for your attention, ready to launch into a full lecture about how because of your neglectful parents he was going to turn you into some yet undecided woodland creature.
But you surprise him, you’re smart enough to know the potential trouble you’re in but also openly curious about him.
He’s always been a bit vain so when you start asking questions about him, his clothes and his magic, he can’t help himself from giving all the answers you wish.
Before he’s realized it, it’s been an afternoon and you’re politely requesting his help in bringing you home.
All plans of turning you into a bird or a squirrel are forgotten as he walks you to the forest’s edge warning you of the dangers of his domain.
He watches you make your way back to the hovel you call a home and he is already deciding in which wing of his palace you’ll be staying in.
You’re not the first child he’s taken an interest in, you have a few siblings at home you’ve yet to meet. None of which are surprised when their father comes home in a whirlwind already barking orders to his staff about getting rooms ready, clothes made and a ball to formally introduce you to his court as his youngest child.
He’s surprised when you willingly come back to his forest, sure that your parents would forbid it after you’d told them about Him, already four steps deep into a plan on how he was going to lure you back. But now he sees a much simpler path forward.
You started to come to the forest nearly daily and you talk and explore with him for hours at a time. It became a comfortable and solid routine, and you trusted if you came he would be there.
He immediately can tell how starved for attention you are, happily rambling about whatever you wished as you and Him walked together in his forest. The perfect foundation to build his plan on.
One day while you two are relaxing in the forest, you make mention of his more unnatural features, his horns, his wings, his teeth, with a tiny hint of jealousy.
He casually brings up his other children, talking about how they were once human, but now were fully Fae like him. A simple transformation, really. He says pretending not to notice the hunger that grows in your eyes.
He loves to compliment you, about how brave, smart and curious you were. He’d often go on about how proud your family must be of you. How they must’ve showered you in praise. Of course he’s not surprised when you nod and smile along, the smile not reaching your eyes.
He knows that it’s almost time when you bring up his other children, asking about what they were like. Watching you pretend not to care about the answer made him want to forget all his plans and take you home then. But he did not become King through rushed action.
So he talks about them and he’s unable to contain his joy and love when he does. All of them unique and interesting each he loved more than the world its self. He explained how all of his children chose to be with him. All from less than perfect homes, all who saw the life he offered and took it.
Then you and your parents have a fight, you’re spending too much time alone in the forest and now people are gossiping about your family.
Even at your young age, you know that the fact that they care more about people’s gossip than your safety and it escalates to a huge mess. Your parents forbid you from ever going to the forest again and it’s your breaking point.
That night you sneak out running to the forest as quick as possible, and as always he is waiting for you with open arms. He holds you as you cry, everything coming out about how your parents never cared and how you wished to have a parent like him.
Your face is buried in his shirt and so you don’t see the smile that slowly grows over his face. He gently calms you down and says how happy he’d be to have a child like you. And if you wanted, you could become as much of a Fae as he. You even get a family as a bonus.
How could you ever say no?
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universalitgirlsblog2 · 5 months
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🎀🍓⚞🎀・◦・⚟ YOU ARE NOT A VICTIM.🎀🍓⚞🎀・◦・⚟
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🍓REALISE THAT LIFE IS A IMAGINATION.
You going to your job. Your job is your bosses imagination. He imagined a company that he wanted to create and then he put it into physical realm. So you are basically working towards your bosses imagination.
Countries are not real. We all collectively imagine a border but it's not real. It's all earth. Everything is earth but we imagine that those countries are separated.
Money is also imagination. It's just a piece of paper. We imagine that the amount of money in our bank is worth that much but it isn't. If tomorrow a big corporation says that the money in your account isn't worth that much or the money isn't in use anymore . It's not.
All this means that we all are living in a imagination. A dream . A game . Matrix. Whatver you want to call it.
We imagine everything we do. We imagine our future and dwell in our past which also doesn't exist. Future and past doesn't exist. Only this moment exists.
🎀REALISE THAT YOU ARE THE CREATOR OF YOUR IMAGINATION.
We can create this imagination or dream however we want it to be.
🍓QUESTIONS TO ASK YOURSELF
How do I want to create my game , my dream ?
How do I want my imagination to look like ?
Who do I allow into my imaginations ?
How do I behave ? Who am I? What does my character look like ?
🎀BEING A VICTIM MAKES YOU FEEL SAFE
Being a victim is the most comfortable thing because you don't have to do much. Your life is a circle. Everything just keeps moving in the same way , in the same circle. But this is comfortable for you. Why ? Because you know what is going in happen in the circle. You don't have to take risks. You don't have to deal with different people.
🍓CHANGING YOUR LIFE AND STOP BLAMING OTHERS
To take a leap of faith , you need to be brave. It takes guts. Everyone wants to blame everyone . At the end you will be left no one to blame but yourself. Your life is shit because of you. People don't care about your victim mentality. You know when they care ? When you get out of it. When your life becomes a success story. David Goggins is not David Goggins without his success. No one would care if he was the same guy before.
🎀YOUR LIFE WILL ONLY CHANGE IF YOU CHANGE
Everyone moves on and you will be left behind. NO ONE IS GOING TO SAVE YOU. WHY ? BECAUSE NO ONE CAN SAVE YOU. The only person that can save you is you. No one is going to make you change.
🍓GROWTH IS : 2 STEPS FORWARD AND 1 STEP BACK.
Everytime you learn something,it's one step forward because you have more knowledge but if you put it into practice, you will be 1 step back because you are not used to it. You still have to continue. If you feel uncomfortable and give up, you will be right back where you started. Stop abusing yourself by being in the same circle that you don't like. Stop abusing yourself by being the same person that you don't like. Look in the mirror , we don't have anyone to blame. As a victim it's easy to run away and be like " I tried I tried", You didn't try and you didn't try hard enough . Try again . Try again until you get there.
🎀REALISE THAT YOU ARE ADDICTED TO DRAMA.
Alot of people when they come out of abusive household , later they will think that it's too peaceful . They will start to attract people that will give them that toxicity again because this is the only thing they knew. Realize that you are the creator of that drama though. You can choose to have a peaceful life. You can choose to have peaceful people around . If you can't find peaceful people , just be peaceful on your own for a while until you find someone that makes you feel peaceful.
Stop creating drama when it was never meant for you. Stop involving yourself in things that were never meant for you. Stop watching things that are so dramatic.
🍓REALISE THAT YOU HAVE CONTROL.
You have control who comes into your life , you have control about who you date . You have control about what you watch , listen to , what you read. You have control over what you put in your mind. Your mind isn't a dustbin.
If you decide to open the news and it's all negative and now your day is bad. Don't blame the news. Blame your eyes and blame your hands for putting that on.
🎀ASK YOURSELF : WHY DO I ALLOW THESE PEOPLE IN ?
"My friend , partner is toxic". Why don't you start looking at why you allow them in ? Don't you have control over who I allow into my life? Why don't you ask yourself ? What is it in you that you don't feel worthy enough of having people that actually respect you ?
🍓WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO FIX YOUR LIFE ?
What part are you playing in life ? You can cry all day about being overweight or underweight . Are you doing something to fix that or are you just crying all day ? What are you doing to fix your life?
🎀WHEN YOU WANT SOMETHING BADLY YOU WILL FIND A WAY
When something wants something badly , they will get it done anyway.
🍓GO FROM COMPLAINING TO GRATITUDE
Turn your mindset around. Set your mind on a plan and focus on it . The more you start going from complaining to gratitude, the more your life will change. If you constantly focus on what isn't there instead of what it is , you create more of that.
🎀REALISE HOW PRIVILEGED YOU ARE
You are privileged and you want to talk about people in North Korea. They won't be able to see liz video or read this post since they don't have access to internet but you do.
🍓WE NEED THE GOOD AND BAD TO KEEP THE WORLD IN BALANCE.
This is how the world works.
🎀PAST AND FUTURE DONT EXIST
Accept your past and start working on yourself. It doesn't exist. You only have now. Don't dwell on the future. What are you doing now ? How you are now will determine your future and not the other way around.
🍓RECOGNISE THE WAYS YOU SABOTAGE YOURSELF.
Everytime something good comes into your life. Do you ruin it ? What in life are you doing that sabotages you ? You have to ask yourself these things.
🎀START TAKING RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR BEHAVIOUR
It's not fair what happened to you but whatver I do with it next , it's on you.
🍓TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF FIRST IS THE MOST SELFLESS ACT
If you don't take care of yourself , you can't show up as the best mother , daughter, employee or boss. You don't feel good . You are depleted and depressed. If you want to perform the best you want to be for others , then you should think about you first and nurturing you first so you are happy. If you don't feel good in your life , it's okay to take a step back from everyone and focus on nurturing you . Put yourself first . No is coming to take care of you.
🎀YOU DESERVE EVERYTHING YOU DESIRE
You deserve everything you want and you can get once you set your mind to it. Stop taking advice from people that you don't want to share lives with ,these people are miserable themselves.
🍓🎀 ⚞🎀・◦・⚟I LOVE LIZ SO MUCH. 🍓🎀 ⚞🎀・◦・⚟
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livefastdrivefaster · 9 months
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I Love You! | LN4
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Pairing: Lando x Fem!Reader
Summary: The early stages of your relationship with Lando. Meeting his friends and saying "I love you" for the first time! Fluff (also a bit of suggestive language).
Word count: 1.2k words
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
You had been dating Lando officially for nearly a month and a half now, and he had decided it was the right time to introduce you to his friend group. One of Lando’s friends were hosting a birthday dinner at their flat in Monaco, and he had spent a week convincing you that you needed to come. You felt uncomfortable at the thought of inserting yourself into his group, but you were new to Monaco, and would appreciate meeting more people your age there. You had met through a mutual friend, who would be at dinner tonight, but you had never gotten to know their extended circle. 
You didn’t live in the same apartment, but you lived close enough where you decided to finish getting ready at your boyfriend’s penthouse and travel to his friend’s party together. You were in Lando’s bathroom, struggling to put your earrings on when you heard him call your name from the kitchen.
“Y/N, are you almost ready to go love?” He calls.
“Yeah!” You respond enthusiastically, cautiously treading out of the bathroom, still trying to put your earring on. 
The backing finally clicks when you come into Lando’s line of sight, and you feel a blush creeping up on your cheeks as he unashamedly looks you up and down. 
“Fuck, Y/N,” he says with a low voice, pulling you into him “Maybe we should just show up a little later?” He asks suggestively, placing a gentle kiss on your collarbone. You seriously didn’t mind the idea, considering how good he looked himself right now.
“I can’t let us be late to the first time I’m meeting your friends, Lando.” You laugh, wrapping your arms around his torso. 
“Why do you have to be so sensible.” He sighs into your neck.
“One of us needs to be. Come on, the Uber is outside.” You say, tentatively pulling away from him. He takes your hand in his and dramatically marches forward, guiding you out the door. 
- - - - - - - - - - -
The two of you were stood outside the address, bickering about who should knock on the door. You desperately didn’t want to, but Lando thought it would be good to build your confidence before meeting his friends. 
“Please Lando, just do it for me.” You plead, giving him a laughable attempt at puppy eyes. 
“Be a brave girl.” Lando says, lightly pushing you towards the door. You sigh loudly, raising your arm to the door.
“I am so getting payback for this.” You say threateningly, which is only met with laughter from Lando. Disappointed he saw right through your empty threat, you knock twice at the door. 
“Coming!” A voice calls from the inside, and you hear footsteps approaching the door. You take a step back, letting Lando’s arm circle around your waist. 
Suddenly, the door swings open and you are greeted with the face of the birthday girl. 
“Y/N!” she exclaims excitedly, “You are even more gorgeous in person, come on in.” She says, pulling you into a tight hug. 
“I’m here too.” Lando says sarcastically. 
“This isn’t about you.” She quips back, leading you inside the flat. Lando rolls his eyes, following the two of you into the main party area. 
Your arrival brings about cheers from the group, as about five people offer you a drink at once, desperate to get to know Lando’s new and elusive girl. Eventually, the energy of the party shifted into a low-key vibe, with people congregating on the couches discussing their favourite movies. 
“I’ve heard enough about the Wolf of Wall Street,” a girl, whose name you find out later to be Ria, exclaims, “what about your favourite movie scenes in particular?”
“Jordan Belfort’s big party in the Wolf of Wall Street.” A guy calls out jokingly. A few groans go around the room.
“That scene in ‘Perks of Being a Wallflower’ where Emma Watson hangs out of the car in the tunnel, listening to David Bowie” You cut in, followed by awkward fumbling with your drink.
A symphony of agreement rises around the room, particularly from the girls in the group. You settle back into your seat, trying to fight a proud smile from growing on your face, happy that your comment went down well. Lando squeezed your side lightly, giving you a silent congratulations. 
The conversation flowed well through the rest of the evening, and you involved yourself more, easily fitting into the lively group dynamic. Eventually, the party wrapped up, and you and Lando decided to Uber back to his, potentially to fulfil his request from earlier. 
“How did that go, do you think?” You asked him, placing your head on his shoulder. 
“They loved you.” He said simply.
“Yeah?”
“Well, I think you’re pretty great. And they trust my judgement.” You smiled softly at this, nestling your head deeper into the crook of his neck.
- - - - - - - - - - -
You and Lando had just finished celebrating your six-month anniversary at one of Monaco’s nicest restaurants, when you both climbed into his convertible McLaren to drive home. 
The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, Lando’s free hand placed on your thigh. Suddenly, Lando takes an unexpected turn, leading you away from your apartment. 
“Lando this isn’t the way back to mine.” You say, looking at him confused. His eyes remained focused on the road ahead, but his mouth widened into a cheeky grin. 
“I know, I thought we would go the scenic route tonight.” He said casually, as if it was such an obvious thing he was doing. He takes his hand off your thigh to press a button on his centre console, causing the roof above you to open, revealing the midnight blue sky above the city. 
“Let’s hope I timed this right.” Lando says to himself, and you again look at him confusedly. The song playing through the car’s sound system ends, and you hear the familiar opening notes to “Heroes” by David Bowie coming through the speakers. Your eyes flick to the road ahead of you, and you realise you’re heading towards the Monaco tunnels. 
“Lando…” Your voice trails off, touched at the thoughtfulness of his gesture.
“Save the thanks for when we get home. Hop up baby, we are nearly at the tunnel.” He smiles, patting the area of the car behind your head. 
You perch yourself on the flat top behind your seat, enjoying the cool air wrapping around your body.
“Are you sure this is okay?” You ask Lando cautiously. 
“Of course, love. There aren’t cameras through here, and you know I will drive carefully.” You feel like a rebel, testing the law a bit. As the music swells into the chorus, you raise your arms to your side, recreating the iconic scene you talked about so long ago. 
Your eyes flicker between being open and shut, wanting to take in the most of the moment, but also not daring to look away from Lando for too long. Watching his curls being tousled by the wind, you instinctively lean down to him.
“I love you!” You yell, the words leaving your mouth before you had time to stop them. Lando looks at you through the rear-view mirror, beaming a wide smile.
“I love you more!” 
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