feroluce · 2 months ago
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For reasons to be expanded upon at a later date (because I love the little bits about Boothill and possible paranoia/betrayal canon gives us so very dearly HNGH) I think Boothill like... He won't let himself fall into disrepair or anything of course, but he reeeeeeeeeeally does not like letting other people poke around at his body. It's a necessary evil to him. He does whatever maintenance and repairs he can himself. He started out with a massive knowledge deficit, simply because he didn't really have any exposure to that kind of technology until he left Aeragan-Epharshal, but he's taught himself a lot since then, he worked really hard at it!
Anyway, the point being, Boothill generally isn't super trusting of people.
But I think he would come to make an exception for Himeko, since he trusts Dan Heng a lot, and Himeko is one of Dan Heng's once-in-a-lifetime dearly beloved companions.
Himeko is so unflappable, I don't think she would even bat an eye about anything he throws at her, either. Like she enters the Parlor Car one morning (she's always the first one up) and Boothill is already there, waiting for her.
"Mornin', Madam Navigator."
"Good morning, Mr. Boothill."
And despite the fact that he blatantly broke into the Express (Pom-Pom is NOT happy about this JDKSAJDSKL), Boothill tips his hat, greets her politely, and is nothing but respectful when he says he has a favor to ask of her. Except it won't stay a favor long, of course- he has every intention of paying it back.
Himeko never agrees to things blindly, but she does bring up that all the knowledge Boothill contributed during the Charmony Festival was essential to preventing the universe from being pulled into Ena's Dream. And they were able to hold onto the Jade Abacus because Boothill used Tiernan's burial relic to summon the Galaxy Rangers instead. The Astral Express owes him a debt of gratitude, and besides, he's a friend of Dan Heng's. Of course she'll try to help him.
Boothill fidgets a bit, quickly brushes off the thanks, and tells Himeko he's having a problem with error codes. He keeps getting the same one, seemingly at random times, but the darn thing has no obvious cause. Dan Heng mentioned Himeko had been the one to rebuild the Astral Express. He knows it ain't the same, but it's not like he's askin' for any major repairs or nothin'. He was wonderin' if she could just take a look, maybe offer him some insight, since she seems to be somethin' of a mechanical wonder.
So Himeko walks him back to a another car, where she goes to tinker with machines without them crowding her bedroom. It's all neatly laid out and organized, and it only takes a second for Himeko to locate some specific device with a long cord. Instead of plugging it in herself, she holds the end of it out to him, like an offer rather than a demand, and Boothill visibly relaxes a bit. He still eyes it just a little warily for a second, but he accepts and plugs it into the port on his side.
Himeko pulls up the list of all recent errors, and they really are all the same. Boothill has had multiple temperature alarms over the past couple of weeks since the Charmony Festival, and they know it's not the environment, because Penacony is mostly dreamscape and kept mild year-round. The long-forgotten natural deserts are too far away.
Boothill is staring from the corner of his one good eye, so Himeko turns the hologram to let him see what she's doing easier. They don't appear to be false alarms. His internal temperature spikes and then slowly lowers again, high enough that if it lasted it would eventually cause damage.
One option is for her to start rooting through personal data, figuring out what he was doing at the time of each code, and tracing cause and correlation.
Instead, Himeko reads out the timestamps, and asks Boothill if he minds sharing what was happening around him when it occured.
Two weeks ago: He and Dan Heng went to explore Dreamflux Reef and found a bar- nice place, good atmosphere. Woman runnin’ it was a doll. Boothill left fer not even two minutes to get them drinks (Dan Heng knows like nothin’ about liquor, Madam Navigator, can you believe this guy) and when he came back, someone had already stolen his seat and was hittin’ on Dan Heng! Dan Heng didn't even care, just shooed ‘em off. Boothill laughed and said not to let him get in his way if he wanted to meet someone. Dan Heng looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would he want to leave with someone else, when he came here to be with Boothill?
Twelve days ago: While laying low- er, just rustlin’ up some grub- in the Moment of Blue, Boothill passed Dan Heng with March and Caelus playin’ on the beach, buildin’ sandcastles and the like. When he passed by again almost two hours later, they were still out there, with Dan Heng pullin’ March through the water on her inner tube and Caelus hangin’ off the back of it. He swam so fast! You'd think he was part water snake or somethin’. He looked happier ‘n a cat in a sunbeam… He has a nice smile, doesn't he?
Eleven days ago: Boothill was killin’ time in Dreamflux Reef when he turned the corner down a shady alley and saw Dan Heng, surrounded by three men demandin’ “protection money.” None of ‘em stood a chance, they were all on the ground before Boothill even blinked! So cool! Boothill wants to see that spear of his closeup- Anyway, Dan Heng stepped on one of ‘em on his way out, hahaha! Boothill stepped on the same guy a second time as he hurried to catch up.
Eight days ago: Here on the Express, actually. Boothill had mentioned bein’ curious about the archives, and Dan Heng personally invited him.
(“I remember that day, I saw you in the hall.” “Was there any problem with the heating that day?” “No, none. I don't think the temperature has anything to do with these error codes. I have a different theory, keep going.” “If ya say so.”)
Boothill was fascinated by an entry on aeons, and from a single question he asked about Lan, the two of ‘em ended up talkin’ fer hours. About aeons and Paths and Emanators, Acheron and Self-Annihilators, the Sea of Nihility, Tiernan, the Nameless and the Galaxy Rangers, their burial relics and their customs. Dan Heng finally just started writin’ and editin’ the entries in real time, with Boothill pointin’ things out and tellin’ him what to add in. They were at it so late that Boothill ended up sleepin' on a couch in one of the cars.
He'd figured there had to be something to make Dan Heng chatty- he'd caught just a glimpse of it that first night they met, sittin’ at the bar in the Reverie together. He'll have to ask about the archives more often, if it gets him all revved up like that.
One week ago: After that night of energetic discussion, Dan Heng was apparently hyped up, because after he'd downed some of Himeko's coffee (“You had some too, right? What did you think of it?” “It was great, even better'n chewin’ bullets!” "Thank you! That was my newest brew, I can't wait for everyone else to try it.") he actually asked Boothill to go hunting with him. Boothill asked who their target was, and was surprised when Dan Heng pulled out photos that looked like they were from March's camera, of all things, instead of a bounty or wanted poster.
And as he sat there, studying these pictures, Dan Heng explained that he wanted to hunt down these specific memory zone memes to record them into the archives. Planets with so much memoria are a rarity, especially with the Stellaron's activity thrown into the mix, which has surely affected the local “wildlife.” He might not get another opportunity like this for a long time. And Boothill had talked last night about his extensive expertise in tracking and hunting, so he should have plenty to offer here, Dan Heng would like to learn from his experience and see how he does things!
And oh, Madam Navigator, by the time Dan Heng was done speakin', his eyes were practically sparklin'! Just lit up like the sun! Boothill could scarcely believe it! The two of them couldn't even wait another day, they set out that very morning. It had been a long, long while since Boothill had tracked someone- er, somethin’- without the intent to capture or kill. It was…actually really nice. Nostalgic, but in a good way. It might even have been his favorite day on Penacony…so…far…
Boothill trails off as a couple of realizations crash into him. All the temperature alarms he's spoken about thus far- they've all happened in the company of Dan Heng. And now that he's thinking about it, he's pretty sure even the ones he hasn't yet talked about were with him, too. Dan Heng has been responsible for all of his error codes, every. single. one.
The screen in front of Himeko suddenly refreshes to the top of the list, displaying a new notification for the current time. Alert! Core temperature above normal range.
Himeko's knowing smile is sly as a snake.
Wwwwwelp, would ya look at the time, Boothill has some errands to meet, people to run, y’know how it is, he should really get goin'-
“Oh, Mr. Boothill? About that favor.” And Boothill jolts to a stop in the doorway because fudge, he can't just leave without hearing her out. He'd given his word. He has no problem running out on someone he thinks deserves it, but Himeko really had been kind to him to try and help him out. Her voice is just as knowing as her smile, Boothill can't turn around to look at her, or else he knows he won't be able to disguise the sound of his cooling fans kicking on.
“Don't make Dan Heng wait too long, ok~?”
“Y-Yes, ma'am.”
#honkai star rail#henghill#bootheng#Himeko KNOWS abort mission abort!!!#I really love Himeko sorta looking after Boothill the same way she does her crew even if he's not one of them haha. She's so sweet with-#-Dan Heng. She really seems to adore him and wants him to be safe and happy. I think she would be so happy he's found a new friend!#She wants to help this happen!! So get to it Boothill!!!#Was yapping about this fic to Ray and she nearly fucking oneshotted me: 'It's especially funny because we've got a Vidyadhara and a cyborg-#'-they literally have all the time in the world. SHE's the one who wants to be around to see it happen akfbbsbd''#AND JUST. GOD. Himeko knowing that she won't outlive Dan Heng. She's only human. She can't compare to a Vidyadhara lifespan. So she wants-#-to make sure Dan Heng has as many people as possible. She wants to know he'll be taken care of and not be lonely even after she's gone.#Himeko wants to see this important moment in his life happen she wants to be around for it *sobbing*#I'd been wanting to write this for a long time though because for me henghill is all about the little moments. like. they talked so much-#-back and forth in 2.2. they spent so much time together. they get along shockingly well. Dan Heng could have gone almost anywhere to wait-#-for the trailblazer to wake up after defeating Sunday. And instead of anywhere else Dan Heng returned right to Boothill's side. Was still-#-hanging out with him at the Reverie's bar. Still just chattering away. The point is that these two have a strong friendship to build a-#-romance on! They enjoy each other's company! They like spending time together! And I love that! I want to see their mundane nights!!#They'd have such fun dates uweh... They go on a coffee date and miss Himeko's coffee haha#(fun story Boothill's dialogue about Himeko's coffee was originally going to be 'it was uh...an experience. ain't nothin' else like it in-#-the world.' 'thank you!' But then I read Boothill's parlor car dialogue and? it turns out he LOVES Himeko's coffee? go figure ajfldjas)#(afaik he and Dan Heng are literally the only ones. how cute is that haha)#hsr#boothill#himeko#dan heng#hsr boothill#hsr himeko#hsr dan heng#my fics
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wild-jackalope · 2 months ago
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Satoru Gojo, your scarily perceptive teacher, takes it upon himself to help his horny student, you, with your over-abundance of cursed energy.
paring :: Teacher!Satoru x Student!Reader, Student!Megumi x Student!Reader (undertones).
warning :: age gap, teacher-student relationship, public sex, virgin reader, corruption kink (kinda), straight penetration, no foreplay, cherry popping, Gojo is cocky, reader is horny af.
note :: reader is 18 and a third year with the other students (Yuji, Megumi, Nobara).
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“That much cursed energy isn’t good for you.” Megumi eyed you, a weary frown resting on his face.
“I’m fine.” You grunted. The vast aura of cursed energy angrily whipping around you only seemed to surge more when he continued his lecture.
“You’ll get sick.” He added, a noticeable warning in his tone.
“I’m fine.” You sharply returned.
You had not been fine, in fact, you were tensed beyond belief. Being a Jujustu sorcerer was hard, anyone with a brain could tell you that, but the past weeks had taxed you physically and emotionally to an extent you had never experienced. Mission after mission had lead you to lacking personal and intimate time. Each night you'd black out the moment your head hit your pillow, sometimes still in your sweaty uniform.
Each morning you'd wake up with a noticeable wet spot between your legs, but before you could set your barking pussy to rest, you'd be called up and sent on another mission. The only way you could release the building tension was by taking it out on curse spirits, leading to relatively swift victories. The higher ups seemed to consider your constant wins as a challenge because they continued to throw cursed spirits your way.
This had been going on for a whole month, and now it came to the point in your womanly cycle where you yearned to be fucked the most; Ovulation.
"What's up with you?" Yuji questioned.
"Frustrated?" Nobara grinned. You'd made the mistake of venting to her about your situation during a paired mission. Your body tightened with searing regret.
"Don't pester her. You'll make it worse." Megumi cut, keeping his narrow eyes targeted at your surrounding classmates.
Maybe if Megumi liked you enough to defend you, you could test the waters and see if you could get him under the sheets. Idiot. You palmed your forehead, attempting to smack away the thoughts. Megumi was your friend. You'd just embarrass yourself.
"Woah, look at that aura." Satoru had finally slipped into the classroom, about twenty minutes late to the class. Twenty minutes you could've spent getting yourself off. Stop thinking about it. "Someone's seeming a little moody." He jested, lifting the side of his blindfold to eye your irritated cursed energy.
You huffed a depressing sigh, Satoru's harassing would just frustrated you more, especially considering he was so hot. God you would do anything to be dicked down. Especially by him.
The majority of the class time was spent with your head resting in your folded arms. Each low syllable pronounced by your teacher would make you fantasies about what his moans would sound like and whenever you felt his eyes gaze over you, a tingling shiver meddled with your legs. You were too far gone. Even if you had time to masturbate, would it be enough?
Even after the class had finished, you delayed leaving your chair, hoping to grind your thighs together just a little longer to the thoughts of your teacher.
"Coming?" Megumi asked. You wished.
"She should stay back." Satoru stated, casual smile on his face.
You lifted your head, blinking.
"Bye." Megumi waved, you returned the gesture.
"So you going to tell me the deal with all your cursed energy, or should I just take an educated guess?" His hand landed on the base of your desk, slender pointer finger tapping it.
Unintentionally, your voice left you in the form of a meek whimper. "I'll deal with it, you don't have to worry."
"Educated guess then," He shrugged, finding no satisfaction in your answer. "I know you've been shoved a heavy work load, being asked to defeat cursed spirits every day for.. how many weeks now? Four?" You nodded. "Rough. I dealt with a similar thing back in my youth, the strongest is always busy. Never any time to be alone."
You swallowed the saliva pooling in your mouth. "Uhm, yeah."
"So that's it then? You're just a bit pent up." You flushed at his casual discovery.
"I-I said I'll deal with it. We don't need to be talking—"
"Want me to help?"
That’s what landed you on Satoru’s desk, papers scattered over the floor, with your bottoms hanging off your leg and his pants resting just above his hips. You’d moved from your desk to his with a frazzled fanaticism, not caring to question Satoru’s sexual intentions as he lead you, merely chasing the end of your drowning lust. In that moment, your teacher seemed like the solution to all your problems, so you let in.
His thumb dipped beneath his boxers, leisurely pulling them down to expose the lines of his hips and the beginning of his shaft.
He’d pulled your bottoms off with an intense haste, unfairly compared to how slowly he teased you with the sight of his dick. He watched your wide, glossy eyes gape like a virgin at him.
“Wet dream come true?” He asked, chuckling behind his words.
Your response was a breathy hiccup, filled with astonishment and embarrassment. Did he know you had the hots for him? Well, he must’ve had some clue, because you were currently naked from the waist down on his desk.
“Cute.” He added, finally allowing his cock to spring free and give you the sight you longed for. Your fingers began to ache with how hard you gripped the table, skin blanching and nails digging into the wood with stressed intensity.
The size of him was larger than what you’d imagined, thicker too. His pale skin, littered with blue-ish veins, perfectly blended into a lip-pink tip, already damp with his own pre. The reality that his was the first dick you’d seen in person, and were about to feel inside the chasm of your pussy made your stomach pile with anxious butterflies.
The sudden heat of the moment dampened in your mind, as your virgin inexperience hit you like whiplash. You pressed your lips inwards, biting them. You couldn’t tell him, not now, not while he was slipping between your legs and his hands were rising underneath your uniform.
“So tense.” He murmured, towering posture leaning into your figure as his fingers skimmed the lining of your ribs, then reached the fabric of your bra. “Relax babe, no one’s gonna disturb this.” He kissed your clothed shoulder, then your neck. The softness made you burn and melt into him.
“Gojo—” Your tone was weary, and Satoru cut you off before you could utter any confused regret.
“I’m your teacher, I know what’s best for you. I’ll take care of your problem, yeah? You just sit there and enjoy it.” His lips latched onto yours, sucking away any words you were thinking of speaking from your lips.
One hand returned to his base, taking his cock whilst the other held your body, his thumb rolling over your supported boob in a needy motion.
His cock dipped between your folds, gathering the pooling slick that dripped from your cunt. The connection made you jolt and grab the arm he used to grope you.
“Forgot how quickly younger girls get wet.” He muttered aloud. Your face must’ve churned at the words, because he immediately backtracked. “I don’t go searching to fuck young women, I’ve just had plenty of experience over the years.”
Your face eased, but still you squinted in distrust. He laughed.
“I mean, c’mon, you’re gushing just at the sight of me.” Embarrassed, you averted your eyes and uttered a unintelligible disagreement. Satoru took your flushed face into his hand and brought your attention back to his grin. “Don’t worry, pretty girl, you’re the youngest I’ve had.” Unable to move yourself from his grip, Satoru leaned down and planted a wet kiss to your lips.
He licked over your bottom lip, retreating when you moaned in his mouth. He’d become impatient, needing to feel your wet warmth hugging his dick. He thrusted his cock into your clit, once, twice before planting his tip in the crook of your weeping hole.
“Fuck, Megumi is gonna hate me.” He drawled, a contradictory excitement lacing his tone.
You hadn’t time to question his statement as his cock dived between your folds, slipping into your chasm and stretching the thin skin of your cherry.
“Ah! Fuck.” You huffed, the stretching ache rumbling through your abdomen causing your legs to restrict around him. Your hands shot to his chest, weakly and frantically grabbing at the loose fabric of his uniform. “Gojo—”
“Oh, I know, baby. I know.” A certain weak pity jesting his words. “Fuck, you’re tight. Don’t tell me, am I your first?” His smirk grew at the concept, as did his cock.
You hadn’t given him an answer, only spurs of moaning huffs as you concentrated on dealing with ache of being split open by his lean dick. He retracted his hips sharply, you gasped and hit his chest.
“Tell me, c’mon. Am I your first? Am I?” He sunk in again, then retracted with an agonising speed.
“Gah! Yes, yes— fuck, you are.” You huffed, hitting his abdomen again.
“Fuuuck. Lucky me.” Satoru slowed his hips, returning to sliding inside you with an uninterrupted slowness. “I’ve been so selfish, jus’ wanting to fuck you right away, next time it’ll be all about you. Promise.”
“N-Next time?” You heaved, clawing at his chest.
With a deep drawl, he responded. “You ain’t the only one who has needs, baby.” You could feel the words puff into your neck.
The realisation hit you. Satoru was just as pent up as you were, having no time to hookup or masturbate. His situation was just as bad as yours, likelier worse. As much as he might’ve wanted to seem like a teacher just helping his student get off to alleviate their cursed energy, he craved sex twice as much as you did.
He continued to sink in, sliding against the pleasurable nerves decorating your gummy walls. You whined and Satoru hushed you, halting once his hips pressed into yours. “There you go, perfect fit.” He praised.
“God.” You choked, gasping at the air. You felt him, felt his hot cock press into the parts of you nobody else had, parts your own fingers had barely reached.
“I know. Big, huh? You can take it, I know you can.” His slender hand cupping your breast squeezed in feeble reassurance.
Your teeth clenched and your chest fell with fast puffs. “Perv.” You breathed.
His cock twitched, tapping the roof of your sticky canal. “So rude. Don’t you know you need to respect your elders?” He drew his hips out and you winced.
“Just wait, hmpf, God—” You ripped at his shirt. He’d been pushing you this entire time, eager to fuck you silly.
Satoru brought his hands to his mouth and licked his finger, pressing it to your clit and rubbing the saliva into the nub. The pleasure it brought you fought against the aching and you rested your head against his chest, allowing the sweet feeling to soften your body.
“Good girl. Loosen up for me.” He murmured kindly. The words alone added another wet layer of slick around his cock.
His thrusts started off slow and long, pulling his cock so out that your entrance ring danced around his tip, then sweetly sliding back in until your pubes met. Each time he’d penetrate your deepest part, tip dangerously close to tapping your cervix, you’d whine and moan, making him chant mindless remixes of the phrase ‘I know baby, just take it. It’s okay.’
Even at his slowest pace, your mind went hazy with the intensity of sex. Hot, wet, wrong sex. Each time you revisited the reality of your own teacher fucking you, it made your pussy clench around him.
He grunted, taking a calming breath. “‘M gonna pick up the pace, okay?” He was hardly asking for permission, practically tripling his speed before he finished his warning.
You moaned into his chest, hands dragging around his body, wanting to feel him and begging to hold onto something. Satoru placed them on his shoulder, squeezing your wrists in an attempt at comfort, though you could hardly feel anything other than the overwhelming sensation of your gooey insides being massaged.
The curves of his cock flittering past your cloying walls began to feel impossibly familiar, like you were born to be filled with Satoru’s cock. Each drawl made his cock head slide against the spongy part of your g-spot, building you up and up into ecstasy.
The buildup from inside your chasm was intense and ticklish, otherworldly compared to the orgasms you’d rub out alone in bed. You only wished Satoru had perused you sooner.
“I’m gonna cum— oh fuck.”
“I know, baby. I know. Keep taking it.” His nose dipped into your hair, rubbing your side like a cat.
Your climax hit hard and fast, turning your legs to jelly and releasing muscles you hadn’t known were clenched. Your pussy walls cramped and fluttered around Gojo’s cock sucking him in and prompting him to cum inside you. He whined at the intensity.
Satoru Gojo, your teacher, the strongest Jujustu sorcerer, whining as you clenched around his cock. The power trip collided with your electric orgasm, forcing a weak smile to your lips that made your cheeks burn and welled searing tears in your eyes.
He moaned desperately loud, enough to make your heart sink at the idea of it being heard. However the fear was short lived as hot liquid seed pooled in the deep parts of your pussy, thickly coating your walls. You shivered, unable to recongise the foreign feeling of being cummed in. Slower now, he rode the spurts of his orgasm.
“You came inside?” You lazily questioned, unable to reprimand Satoru besides an unsteady slap to his shoulder.
“Don’t worry about that baby, I’ll handle it.” He murmured, upper body now resting against you while his hips slowed to a halt. “Well done.” He cooed, nibbling at your neck.
“You say that like I just defeated a cursed spirit.” You sighed. His lips curl into a smile against your skin and you cringed.
“But you deserve it, pretty girl.”
Peering down at where his cock stilled inside you, you could see the drips of cum froth around his base, dots of pinkish blood swirling with your juices too.
He left you with another curt cheek-kiss, removing himself from your bullied cunt. The feeling of loosing his warm thickness was a discomfort comparable to when he first entered you.
You cursed, the words catching in your throat. Finally able to relax your legs, they attempted to shut however Satoru’s hands grappled the plush of your thigh and pried them open.
“Don’t close your legs, I’ve got to clean you up.”
Akin to a guardian placing a Band-Aid over a sulking child’s scraped knee, Satoru dabbed a tissue to your sloppy cunt, gathering up the mix of blood, cum and slick until you were semi-dry. He pressed a kiss to your clit and you gasped. The sugar-sweet noise begged him to dive between your lips and suck up the mess he made inside you. Next time, he thought, next time he’d leave you ruined.
“The others are still waiting for you, go meet up with them.” He looped your underwear and bottoms through your legs, allowing you to stand and pull them up all the way.
Standing added another pressure to your core and you wobbled. “It hurts.” You uttered into your chest.
“You’ll be fine, a little pain never bothered you out on the field, one of the reason you’re my favourite.” His words tasted like butter and you pressed a frustrated palm to his chest.
“Don’t say stuff like that.” Your reserve was questionable, considering how you two just fucked.
He took your wrist and kissed it. “It’s true.”
A weak scoff left you, and you turned on your heel penguin-walking outside the classroom, Satoru sending you off with a tap to your ass.
“You seem a lot better.” Megumi mused, a quick shine of surprised relief on his face.
“You’re glowing.” Nobara added, an upturn brow and narrow eyes taking in your afterglow.
Strategically, you avoided Nobara’s comment and directed yourself towards Megumi. “Yeah, Gojo managed to actually help for once.” You let out an uneasy chucke, adjusting your blazer.
Just as you were about to suggest grabbing some food, likely sushi, to your classmates, Satoru’s voice called out to you.
Crap, had you forgotten something? You put your underwear on, right?
“This is for you.” He extended a hand, holding a plastic sheet containing one singular pill. Your face and ears immediately flushed, turning a bright pink. You snatched the plan B off him, placing it deep into the crevice of your pocket and turning your back to him.
“Thanks.” You hissed.
“Bye then.” He flirted, giving his other students a wave before backing away.
“What was that?” Yuji asked.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
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aceyalonso · 9 days ago
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touch me, please - CHARLES LECLERC
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pairing : charles leclerc x best friend!reader kinktober day 12 - mutual masturbation
summary : who knew that watching 50 shades of grey with your best friend could end so well?
warnings/notes : swearing, smut, mutual masturbation, talks about sexual fantasies, brief mention of sex toys, edging, dry humping, fingering, handjob, implied oral (I was too lazy to write it)
word count : 4.8k
a/n : this is more on plot than the actual smut | yeah i dont rlly like this one
main masterlist | kinktober masterlist
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8:16 PM
Y/n and Charles lounged on the plush couch in Charles' luxurious Monaco apartment, having spent the entire day watching movies. As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, they decided to watch one last film before calling it a night.
Charles scrolled through the options on his large flat-screen TV, his finger hovering over the title "50 Shades of Grey." He glanced over at Y/n with a mischievous grin. "What do you say we watch this one? I hear it's quite... stimulating."
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, so you want to corrupt me with some softcore porn, is that it?" Despite her teasing tone, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement at the prospect.
Charles chuckled, pressing play on the remote. "Come on, it'll be fun. And who knows, maybe we'll learn a thing or two."
As the movie progressed, the scenes grew increasingly intimate and explicit. Y/n found herself transfixed by the erotic displays on screen, her heart racing as Christian Grey dominated Anastasia Steele. When the scene shifted to Christian spanking Ana, Y/n felt a rush of heat between her legs.
Almost unconsciously, her hand drifted beneath the blanket, fingers grazing over the fabric of her pajama shorts. She bit her lip, trying to stifle a moan as she rubbed herself through the thin material. Beside her, Charles remained oblivious, his eyes glued to the television.
Y/n's breath hitched as she realized what she was doing, her hand stilling beneath the blanket. A wave of embarrassment washed over her, and she quickly withdrew her hand, hoping Charles hadn't noticed. She glanced over at him, but he seemed completely engrossed in the movie, his eyes fixed on the screen.
Trying to regain her composure, Y/n shifted slightly on the couch, crossing her legs tightly. She could still feel the heat pulsing between her thighs, a reminder of the desire that had momentarily overtaken her. As the scene on screen grew even more intense, Y/n found it increasingly difficult to ignore the ache building inside her.
She risked another glance at Charles, wondering if he had any idea of the effect the movie was having on her. But he remained focused on the unfolding drama, seemingly unaware of Y/n's inner turmoil.
The movie's erotic scenes continued to unfold, each one more tantalizing than the last. Y/n found herself squirming on the couch, her body reacting to the sensual displays despite her best efforts to remain composed. She could feel the dampness growing between her legs, her arousal becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
Y/n's gaze darted around the room, desperately seeking a distraction from the throbbing need that consumed her. She considered excusing herself early, retreating to the privacy of her bedroom to relieve the tension that coiled within her. But the thought of leaving Charles alone, of admitting the effect the movie was having on her, filled her with a sense of shame.
As another steamy scene played out on screen, Y/n bit her lip hard, trying to stifle the whimper that threatened to escape. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms as she fought to maintain control. She silently prayed for the movie to end, for the sweet relief of darkness and solitude, where she could finally give in to the desires that raged within her.
As the final credits rolled across the screen, Charles turned to Y/n with a knowing smirk. "You were awfully quiet during that one. Did it not live up to your expectations?"
Y/n swallowed hard, her face flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and lingering arousal. She forced a laugh, trying to play off her unusual silence. "Oh, you know me, just lost in thought. The movie was fine, I guess."
Charles raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying her excuse. "Right. Well, I'm going to head to bed. Try not to stay up too late thinking about Christian Grey." With a wink and a chuckle, he stood up from the couch and made his way toward his bedroom, leaving Y/n alone with her racing thoughts and throbbing need.
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10:47 PM
Hours passed as Y/n remained locked away in her room, desperate to find release from the overwhelming arousal that consumed her. She had tried everything - her fingers, her vibrator, even her pillow pressed tightly against her aching cunt. But no matter how hard she tried, the elusive orgasm remained just out of reach.
Frustration mounted as Y/n tossed and turned on her bed, her skin slick with sweat and her body trembling with need. She couldn't understand why she couldn't climax, why her body refused to succumb to the pleasure she so desperately craved. It was as if her mind was holding her back, preventing her from fully letting go.
As the night wore on, Y/n's desperation grew, her cries of frustration echoing off the walls of her bedroom. She knew she should give up, that chasing the orgasm would only leave her more frustrated in the end. But the ache between her legs was too intense to ignore, driving her to continue her futile efforts long into the night.
Finally, after countless failed attempts to find release, Y/n decided to give up. She dragged herself out of bed, her body still thrumming with unfulfilled desire, and made her way to the bathroom. Perhaps a cold shower would help clear her mind and ease the ache that pulsed between her legs.
As she stepped under the spray, Y/n let out a shuddering sigh, the cool water cascading over her flushed skin. She leaned against the tiled wall, her head falling back as she closed her eyes. For a moment, she allowed herself to simply exist in the sensation, the water sluicing over her curves and washing away the sweat and frustration of the night.
But even as she tried to relax, Y/n couldn't shake the lingering need that still simmered within her. Her hands roamed over her slick body, tracing the contours of her breasts and the dip of her waist. She knew she shouldn't touch herself again, that it would only lead to more disappointment. But the temptation was too great to resist, and soon her fingers were delving between her legs once more, seeking the release that had eluded her for so long.
While her fingers worked between her legs, her mind began to wander, conjuring up vivid images of the erotic scenes she had witnessed on screen. At first, she imagined herself in Anastasia's place, bent over Christian Grey's lap as he delivered firm, stinging spanks to her bare bottom. The fantasy sent a shiver of excitement down her spine, and she increased the pace of her strokes, chasing the release that had eluded her for so long.
But then, almost without her conscious control, Y/n's thoughts shifted, and it was Charles' face that filled her mind's eye. She pictured herself over his lap, her shorts pulled down as he brought his hand down on her upturned ass. The thought of her best friend spanking her, dominating her in such an intimate way, caused a fresh wave of arousal to crash over her, and she let out a soft moan.
The forbidden thoughts of Charles continued to flood Y/n's mind, and she found herself edging closer and closer to the brink of orgasm. Her fingers moved faster, delving deeper into her slick folds as she imagined the feeling of his strong hands gripping her hips, holding her in place as he punished her for her naughty behavior.
But even as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable intensity, Y/n couldn't shake the guilt that gnawed at her conscience. These were her best friend, her confidant, the one person she trusted above all others. How could she harbor such explicit fantasies about him? The shame of her desires warred with the all-consuming need that throbbed between her legs, leaving her teetering on the edge of release.
Just as Y/n teetered on the brink of orgasm, her conscience caught up with her, and the guilt she had been suppressing came crashing down. She snatched her hand away from her aching core, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to compose herself.
"What am I doing?" she whispered to herself, her voice trembling with a mixture of frustration and self-loathing. "He's my best friend, and I'm fantasizing about him spanking me like some kind of pervert."
Y/n sank to the floor of the shower, her back pressed against the cool tiles as she tried to calm her racing heart. She knew she needed to get a grip on herself, to push these inappropriate thoughts from her mind, and to focus on the friendship she valued so deeply. But even as she tried to rationalize her feelings, Y/n couldn't deny the lingering ache between her legs.
Y/n quickly finished her shower, lathering up her body with soap and rinsing away the evidence of her shameful desires. She stepped out of the stall, wrapping a fluffy towel around her still-tingling form. With a sigh, she padded over to her dresser and pulled out her usual pajamas - a tank top and a pair of tiny shorts that hugged her curves.
As she slipped into the revealing clothing, Y/n couldn't help but wonder if Charles would approve. Would he find her attractive in these barely-there garments, or would he be disgusted by her blatant display of skin? The thought sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her body, and she had to resist the urge to touch herself once more.
Y/n laid back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling fan as it lazily circled above her. The cool air from the spinning blades caressed her skin, doing little to quell the heat that still simmered beneath her surface. Her mind raced with thoughts of Charles, of the forbidden desires that had consumed her during her failed attempts at self-pleasure.
She knew she should try to sleep, to put an end to this torturous night of frustration and guilt. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face, heard his voice, and felt the ghost of his touch on her skin. Y/n rolled onto her side, hugging her pillow tightly to her chest as she tried to banish the intrusive thoughts. But even as she drifted off into a fitful slumber, her dreams were haunted by visions of her best friend, and the shameful things she longed for him to do to her.
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1:29 AM
Around 1:30 AM, Y/n finally gave up on the prospect of sleep. She tossed and turned restlessly, her mind and body still thrumming with the aftershocks of her earlier arousal. With a frustrated groan, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet.
Padding out of her room and down the hallway, Y/n made her way to the kitchen. She filled a glass with cool water from the tap, bringing it to her lips and taking a long, deep drink. The refreshing liquid soothed her parched throat and helped to clear her foggy mind.
As she leaned against the counter, sipping her water, Y/n's thoughts once again drifted to Charles. She couldn't seem to escape the memories of their movie night, of the way her body had reacted to the erotic scenes on screen. The ache between her legs had subsided, but the guilt and confusion still lingered, weighing heavily on her heart.
Y/n hesitated for a moment, her hand poised to knock on Charles' bedroom door. She wasn't sure what had possessed her to come to him in the middle of the night, but something deep inside urged her to seek his comfort, his guidance.
After five seconds of silence, Y/n began to turn away, her footsteps soft on the carpet as she started to make her way back to her own room. But just as she was about to round the corner, she heard Charles' voice calling out to her. "Y/n? Is everything okay?"
Y/n froze, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to gather her thoughts. She knew she should just pretend she had made a mistake, that she had been sleepwalking or something. But the words tumbled from her lips before she could stop them.
Y/n turned back to face Charles, an awkward expression on her face. "Hey, um... I know this is kind of weird, but is it okay if I stay in your room for a little while? I think there might be a cockroach in mine."
She cringed internally at the lie, knowing full well that Charles had just had the entire apartment deep cleaned earlier in the week. There was no way there could be any bugs lurking in her room. But Y/n couldn't bring herself to admit the real reason for her late-night visit - the confusing mix of desire and guilt that had driven her to seek out her best friend's company.
Charles raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "A cockroach, huh? In the middle of the night?" He leaned against the doorframe, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. "You know, I think I might have seen a few of those little critters scurrying around in your room earlier. Must be a new species - the ones that only come out at 1:30 AM."
Y/n shook her head, a sheepish smile on her face as she realized how ridiculous her excuse sounded. "Never mind, forget I said anything. I'm just being silly." She turned to leave, her emotions still in turmoil from the events of the evening.
Charles felt a pang of guilt as he watched Y/n turn to leave, her shoulders slumped in defeat. He called out to her, his voice softening. "Hey, wait a second. I was just joking around. Of course, you can stay, if you really want to."
She paused, glancing back over her shoulder at Charles. She bit her lip, considering his offer. The thought of being in such close proximity to him, especially after the forbidden fantasies that had consumed her earlier, sent a shiver down her spine. But at the same time, she craved his comfort, his reassurance that everything would be okay.
Y/n walked past Charles and into his room, immediately slumping down onto his bed. She let out a heavy sigh, her body sagging against the mattress as she tried to process the whirlwind of emotions that swirled within her.
Charles followed her into the room, closing the door softly behind him. He could see the tension in Y/n's posture, the way her brow furrowed as she stared blankly ahead. "Wow, okay. Something is really bothering you, isn't it?" he asked gently, moving to sit beside her on the bed.
Y/n nodded, her face buried in the sheets as she tried to hide the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She couldn't bring herself to look at Charles, to see the concern etched on his handsome features. The guilt and shame that had plagued her all night surged to the surface, threatening to overwhelm her.
He placed a comforting hand on Y/n's back, rubbing gentle circles as he waited for her to speak. He knew her well enough to recognize when something was truly troubling her, and he wanted nothing more than to ease her pain. "Hey, it's okay," he murmured softly. "Whatever it is, we can talk about it. I'm here for you, always."
She took a deep, shuddering breath, finally lifting her head to meet Charles' gaze. Her eyes were red-rimmed and glistening with unshed tears, her lower lip trembling slightly as she spoke. "It's just... it's such a silly reason to be feeling this way," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.
He frowned, his brows knitting together in concern as he tried to decipher her words. "Silly? Y/n, there's no such thing as a silly reason for feeling upset. Whatever it is, it's important to you, and that means it's important to me too." He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.
Y/n stayed quiet for a long moment, her gaze dropping to her lap as she fidgeted with the hem of her tank top. Finally, she looked up at Charles, her eyes wide and pleading. "Promise you won't laugh, okay? This is... this is really embarrassing for me to admit."
Charles' expression softened, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I would never laugh at you, Y/n. You know that, right? Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm here to listen, not to judge." He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin.
Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for the confession that burned in her throat. "I... I was so quiet during the movie because I felt... I felt so horny," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't stop thinking about the things they were doing, about how much I wanted to do those things too."
Y/n's cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she continued, her voice trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and desperation. "After the movie, I went to my room and tried so hard to... to cum. I used my vibrator and everything, but nothing seemed to work. It was like my body just wouldn't cooperate, no matter how badly I wanted it."
As Y/n's confession spilled from her lips, Charles listened intently, his eyes widening slightly as he processed her words. He could hear the desperation in her voice, the needy, whiny tone that sent a shiver of arousal down his spine. Despite his best efforts to remain objective, he couldn't help but feel a stirring of desire at the thought of his best friend in such a state of wanton need.
"I... I thought of you," Y/n admitted shyly, her gaze dropping to the floor as she fidgeted with the hem of her tank top. "And it almost made me cum, but then I felt so guilty because we're just friends, and I shouldn't be thinking about you like that."
Charles swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to process the weight of Y/n's confession. He knew he should be shocked, maybe even disgusted by the thought of his best friend harboring such forbidden desires. But instead, he felt a surge of heat pooling in his lower belly, a primal hunger that threatened to consume him whole.
"Y/n..." he breathed, his voice low and husky as he reached out to cup her cheek with his hand. "Listen to me. There's nothing wrong with feeling the way you do. Desire is a natural thing, and it's okay to want someone you care about." His thumb brushed lightly over her bottom lip, his eyes darkening with a mixture of tenderness and lust.
She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes as she pulled away from Charles' touch. "No, it just feels wrong. We grew up together, we're best friends. I shouldn't be thinking about you like this, shouldn't be wanting you the way I do." Her voice cracked, the weight of her guilt and confusion evident in every word.
Charles took a deep breath, his eyes locking with Y/n's as he spoke. "Listen to me, Y/n. I... I've thought about you before. I've touched myself thinking about you, imagining how good you would feel around me, how pretty you would sound moaning my name." The words hung heavy in the air between them, the silence stretching out for a long moment.
Y/n's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat as she processed Charles' confession. She had never dared to dream that he might feel the same way, that he might have harbored these forbidden desires just as she had. Slowly, hesitantly, she leaned in closer, her gaze never leaving his.
Their lips met in a kiss, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through Y/n's body. She melted into Charles' embrace, her hands coming up to rest on his chest as she deepened the kiss. All the guilt, the shame, the confusion that had plagued her for so long seemed to fade away, replaced by a burning need that consumed her very being.
As the kiss deepened, Y/n felt a surge of desire coursing through her veins. She pressed herself closer to Charles, her body molding to his as they explored each other's mouths with increasing fervor. The thin fabric of her shorts did little to conceal the heat that radiated from her core, and she could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against her through his pajama pants.
Lost in the haze of passion, Y/n began to grind her hips against Charles', the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body. She moaned softly into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair as she lost herself in the sensation of their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.
Charles broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he gazed down at Y/n with hooded eyes. In one swift motion, he flipped their positions, pinning her beneath him on the bed. His hands roamed over her body, slipping beneath the hem of her tank top to caress the smooth skin beneath.
With deft fingers, he tugged at the waistband of her shorts, sliding them down her legs along with her cotton panties that suited her perfectly. Y/n lifted her hips to assist him, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of desire and anticipation. As Charles tossed the garments aside, he took a moment to admire the sight of her naked form spread out before him, her skin glowing in the soft light of the room.
Charles hurriedly stripped off his own pajamas, revealing his toned, muscular body. He settled himself between Y/n's thighs, his hardness pressing against her slick folds. "Touch yourself," he commanded, his voice low and husky with desire. "I want to watch you pleasure yourself, Y/n."
Y/n's hands trembled slightly as she reached down, her fingers grazing over her sensitive clit. She let out a soft moan, her hips bucking involuntarily at the contact. Slowly, she began to circle her clit with her fingertip, her other hand reaching up to tweak and pinch at her hardened nipples.
Charles' words sent a shiver down Y/n's spine, his commanding tone igniting a fire within her that burned hotter than ever before. "Show me how you like it," he growled, his eyes dark with lust as he watched her every move. "I want to see you squirm."
Emboldened by his encouragement, Y/n increased the pace of her ministrations, her fingers moving in a frenzied dance over her most sensitive spots. She arched her back, pushing her breasts up towards the ceiling as she pinched and tugged at her nipples, the pleasure mingling with a delicious hint of pain.
Her hips rocked against her hand, seeking more friction, more pressure. She could feel the wetness pooling between her thighs, her arousal growing with each passing second. Y/n's moans grew louder, more desperate, as she chased the release that had eluded her for so long.
Charles watched with rapt attention as Y/n brought herself closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. His own hand moved slowly over his throbbing erection, his eyes never leaving her face as he drank in every gasp and moan that fell from her lips.
Just as Y/n teetered on the brink of orgasm, Charles spoke up, his voice low and authoritative. "Sorry baby, I'm the only one that's allowed to make you cum tonight, okay?" His words sent a jolt of excitement through Y/n's body, her movements faltering as she processed his command.
Y/n whimpered, her hips stilling as she looked up at Charles with pleading eyes. "Please," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need to cum so badly. Let me finish, I'm so close."
He gently took Y/n's hand away from her dripping pussy, replacing it with his own. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss as she arched her back, desperate for more friction. His left hand reached between her thighs, his fingers gliding easily through her slick folds.
Her own hand found its way to Charles' throbbing erection, her fingers wrapping around his shaft as she began to stroke him in time with the movements of his hand against her core. Their bodies moved together, their moans mingling in the heated air of the room.
As their foreheads pressed together, Y/n's moans grew louder, her body trembling with the intensity of her pleasure. Charles groaned, his own arousal reaching a fever pitch as he felt her tighten around his fingers. He could sense that she was close, her hips bucking wildly against his hand as she chased her release.
"That's it, baby," Charles encouraged, his voice rough with desire. "Let go, cum for me. I want to feel you come undone." His words seemed to push Y/n over the edge, her body convulsing as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. She cried out, her inner walls clenching around Charles' fingers as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her.
As Y/n's orgasm crashed over her, her hand faltered around Charles' cock, her grip loosening as she rode out the intense waves of pleasure. But despite her momentary lapse in attention, Charles found himself teetering on the brink of his own release.
With a guttural groan, he thrust into her hand one final time, his hot seed spilling over her fingers as he came hard. Y/n watched in awe as his body shuddered, his hips jerking with each pulse of his climax. She squeezed him gently, coaxing out every last drop of his essence as they both came down from their high.
Even as the aftershocks of her own orgasm continued to ripple through her body, Y/n kept stroking Charles' cock, her hand moving in a steady rhythm as she coaxed him through the final throes of his release. She marveled at the way his flesh twitched and pulsed beneath her fingers, the heat of his spend mingling with her own slick arousal.
As Charles' breathing gradually slowed, Y/n released his softening member, bringing her hand up to her lips. She licked a stray drop of his cum from her fingers, savoring the taste of their mingled essences. A satisfied smile played at the corners of her mouth as she gazed up at Charles, her eyes shining with a mixture of adoration and contentment.
She let out a soft, breathless laugh as she gazed up at Charles, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and satisfaction. "Fuck, I should've just told you about how I was feeling while we were watching the movie," she mused, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. "Maybe you could've just helped me out right there, saved me from all that frustration."
Charles chuckled, his arms tightening around Y/n's waist as he pulled her closer. "Mmm, I like the way you think," he murmured, nuzzling his nose against her neck. "Next time, just say the word, and I'll be more than happy to lend a hand... or a tongue."
He shifted his position, moving to straddle Y/n's hips as he settled his body between her thighs. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in a tight embrace as he nuzzled his face against her neck. Y/n sighed contentedly, relishing the feeling of his warm skin against hers, the steady beat of his heart echoing in her ears.
As they lay there, basking in the afterglow of their passionate encounter, Charles nuzzled his face against Y/n's neck, his breath hot against her skin. "So…" he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "Are you up for another round?"
Y/n's eyes widened, a fresh wave of desire coursing through her veins at the thought of experiencing the same mind-blowing pleasure once more. She gazed up at Charles, a coy smile playing at the corners of her lips as she reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair. "Mmm, I think I could be persuaded," she purred, arching her back to press her body flush against his. "But only if you promise to make it even better than the first time."
Charles' eyes locked with Y/n's, a smoldering intensity burning in their depths. "Of course, baby," he murmured, his voice low and husky with promise. "I'll make sure it's even better than the first time."
With agonizing slowness, Charles began to lower himself, his lips trailing a path of fire down Y/n's body. He paused at her breasts, lavishing attention on her sensitive nipples before continuing his descent. Y/n's breath hitched as she felt his hot breath ghosting over her slick folds, her hips lifting instinctively in search of his touch.
Just as Charles' tongue made contact with Y/n's aching core, he whispered those three little words that she had been longing to hear. "I love you," he breathed, his voice muffled against her flesh.
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taglist
for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii
kinktober masterlist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world @lewishamiltonismybf
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bratphilia · 1 year ago
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overtime (m. schmidt x reader)
request: "Hey ! Just discovered your account and I love your writtings ! I was wondered if you could write a smut and romantic thing with mike ? I dont have any specific context and all its up to you ! <3"
note: ty sm for showing love to my work and for requesting!! i finally was able to write something actually sweet with mike for the first time lmao.
pairing: mike schmidt x reader
tags: small age gap, fingering, missionary
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after putting abby to sleep, you fell asleep yourself in front of the tv. you couldn't help it! it was a long night of cooking spaghetti for abby (and ordering pizza, per her request), helping her build a fort, and coloring with her inside it. abby's a sweet kid, but babysitting has always tired you out in general. plus her older brother, your boss, started working the graveyard shift at his new job, so it would be unfeasible for you to not go to sleep during your time spent over there.
you woke up to the chair next to you being shifted in, and open your eyes to see mike sitting there, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. you feel embarrassed that you fell asleep on the job and quickly explain yourself. "i'm so sorry for falling asleep, i was just—"
he looks at you. "no need to apologize. i don't expect you to wait all night long for me."
awkward silence fills the air. well, that settles that. god, he's so cute, you think, even all stressed out and with bags under his eyes. he's also been nothing but kind to you since the two of you met. always concerned with how you're doing, how school is holding up, and just generally about your wellbeing. you try to do reciprocate as it's obvious mike doesn't have a lot of people in his life doing the same for him.
you're the first to break the silence. "uhm, there's leftover pizza in the fridge... you know, in case you want any..." you comment, not quite sure what else to say to him.
"oh! thank you," he says. "did abby ask you to..."
"make her spaghetti and order pizza? yes, she absolutely did."
both you and mike laugh. "i'll make sure i can pay you back for that. you really didn't have to—"
"mike," you interrupt, "seriously, don't worry about it. i understand your situation and i want to help you."
mike looks at you gratefully, almost lovingly.
"y'know—"
"so, i should really—"
the both of you talk at the same time. "oh, sorry, you go."
you smile gently. "no, you go. i was just going to say i should hit the road."
he runs a hand through his hair again, eyes darting across the room bashfully. "well i — uh, i just wanted to say thank you for all you do for abby... and for me. it means a lot. you're very... kind."
your smile widens at his awkward choice of words, but it deeply touches you that he appreciates you. you place a hand on top of his. "of course, mike. i'm always here for you."
mike looks at your hand and inhales deeply through his nose. "will you — will you stay for just a little while longer?"
before you know it he's on top of you on the couch, slamming his middle and ring finger inside you while you bite back moans. "gotta be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. can't wake abby up, okay? or else i gotta stop and neither of us want that," he whispers to you sweetly.
instead of letting you respond, mike presses his lips against yours in a deep kiss while he continues to finger you. you break apart to quietly call his name, letting him know that you're close.
much to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out before you can come. "mike, please," you whisper.
"please, what, honey?" he teases.
you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension in your core. "please fuck me already."
mike presses his forehead against yours, breathing sharply as he slowly pushes inside you, inch by inch. you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out as your pussy swallows his hard length.
as he begins to move, he also clearly struggles to keep his noises to a minimum. as a solution, he envelopes you in a kiss as he moves inside you. his pace gradually increases from gentle to faster. the feeling is absolutely delicious.
he can feel your pussy spasming around him and his own dick pulsing too. he uses the hand caging you in on the couch to hold yours as he continues to fuck you.
"feel so good around me, baby," he whispers hotly. "you have no idea what you — ngh — do to me. every time i see you i always think about fucking you like this."
"mike," you moan quietly. his words only encouraged you.
his name becomes a whispered chant falling from your lips as he fucks you through your own orgasm. he's sure to pull out and come on your stomach while he pumps himself.
mike wipes the sweat off of his forehead and sits up so your legs lay over his lap. "sorry for pushing you into overtime," he jokes.
you give a small laugh. "no worries. it was my pleasure."
mike shakes his head at your dumb joke. then his smile fades and he looks at you seriously. "is it... too early to say that i love you?"
you lean up and meet his lips in a kiss as your answer.
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ashwhowrites · 5 months ago
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Requesting for cliche story fuck boy eddie simping over a nerdy girl. Maybe angst in the middle?
Ugh one of my favorite dynamics to write. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
⚠️no actual smut but talks of it
She's different
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Eddie spent years being made fun of and being insecure. In ways, it helped him build a tough shell and made him stronger. But it also made him void of any feelings. He turned cold-hearted and didn't let anyone get close enough to him to hurt him.
He was still a teenager, and he had his own needs. And when his hair grew out and he dressed in chains and leather, more girls were at his feet than he had ever seen. Most girls were from the hideout, groupies that lived to watch him on stage. They threw themselves at him for a chance to get backstage and be under his touch.
Being in a band was the happiest thing that happened to him and he loved the easy access of girls to choose from. School was hell, but the second he was on stage, he was what all the girls wanted. And no one would take that feeling away from him.
~~~
Eddie was half asleep as he sat in class. His hand on his palm as he felt his eyes grow heavier. He had a late night with a girl's name he didn't remember. He moaned in discomfort as he felt her marks still stinging on his back.
"Hi," a soft voice spoke in front of him. He snapped open his eyes to see a girl in front of him. She had glasses, and her hair was down. She wore a little sweater and a skinny pair of jeans.
"Can I help you?" Eddie yawned
"Um..." She said as she looked around the classroom. Everyone is moving to sit with their partners. "We are partners. Were you listening?" She asked with a little giggle.
Eddie couldn't help but smile as the sound left her lips. He had to admit, for a quiet nerd, she was adorable.
"I was not, but take a seat," he said with a smile. He used his foot to push out the chair next to him. She moved delicately as she put down her books and sat next to him. He smelled her perfume and examined her even closer. She had these big curious eyes, a soft nose, and incredibly pink lips, and her skin looked soft.
"Well..." She began to explain everything he missed. He tried to listen, but he couldn't stop watching as her lips moved to form the words. He nodded along as she continued to talk.
She turned her head to look at him, she felt her face burn as he stared at her with a small smile on his face.
She coughed and removed her eyes from his. "So! Let's start."
~~~
By the third day of working together, Eddie loved saying her name. He loved how sweet it sounded as it left his tongue.
He was shocked to find himself so lost in her. Not that being a nerd was bad, he used to be one. But he never thought of himself being attractive while being a nerd. But God, did she do it well.
He was captivated by how smart she was. Way too smart to be in his class. She was mature and he could tell by the way she spoke with a high vocabulary. She didn't make him feel dumb, which was different. She was sweet and took the time to explain anything he didn't understand.
He was smitten.
~~~
Five days into working together he wanted more. He wanted to see her outside of school, outside of her shell. He wanted to see how she looked in the outside world and how her personality might change. He wondered if she had another side of her. A side that didn't stress about grades and let loose.
"What are you doing tonight?" He asked, not realizing he cut her off as she explained another part of the project. He was too lost in his head as he thought about her.
She closed her mouth and gave her answer a thought.
"Well, it's Friday so nothing." She laughed, "Why do you ask? Are you worried we won't finish? Because we have five minutes and just one last paragraph." She explained as she pushed up her glasses.
"Nah, respectfully, I could care less about this project," he chuckled, "I want to hang out, just the two of us and not focus on the project."
She froze as she looked over at him. His eyes sparkled and the sun shined perfectly on his face.
"Why would you want that?" She nervously asked. She couldn't form a single idea why he would want to hang out with her. She wasn't anywhere near his usual crowd of friends.
"Because I want to get to know you. I was thinking about a date?" He offered. He felt a little nervous and didn't understand why. Asking out girls was something he could do in his sleep, but she had his stomach fluttering and his hands sweaty.
He felt more nervous as he waited for her answer.
"Why not," she smiled. She clicked her pen and grabbed his hand. He flinched a little as the pen tickled his hand as she wrote down her phone number.
"Call me," she smiled as she picked up her stuff. A second later the bell rang and she was gone in a flash.
Eddie bit back his smile as he looked down at his hand. Her number and a little heart written next to it. He jumped out of his seat, a bounce in his step as he walked out.
~
Eddie didn't realize he was causing much of a commotion until Wayne walked into his disaster room.
"Edward, what in the hell are you doing?" Wayne asked as he took in the sight of Eddie's room. Clothes were thrown everywhere, and shoes were missing their pairs.
"I'm trying to find a nice shirt but everything is a band!" Eddie cussed to himself.
Wayne couldn't help the smile that went across his face, "And why do you all of a sudden need a nice shirt?" He was young once, and he knew exactly why his nephew was stressed.
"Don't look at me like that," Eddie groaned as he yanked off his shirt and added it to the no pile.
"What's her name?" Wayne asked, he leaned against the door with his arms crossed.
"Y/N," Eddie sighed, "I asked her out and I have nothing to wear!"
"Looks to me like you have a lot of options," Wayne laughed, "But what if we go get a nice shirt? I'll take you."
Eddie looked at his watch, he had a good few hours before he needed to leave.
"Fine but we don't speak of it," Eddie said as he pointed at Wayne.
Eddie's leg shook in the car as they pulled up to the small strip mall.
"How come you are this nervous?" Wayne asked as he got out of the car. "We share a wall so I know you aren't shy with many girls."
Eddie blushed in embarrassment, and he mumbled an apology.
"She's different, I guess." Eddie shrugged, he walked behind Wayne as they walked into the shop.
~
Eddie stood in front of the mirror as he sprayed on cologne. He used water to pat down his hair, and he ran his hands over his new button-up.
He was nervous but he was excited.
Wayne wished him luck as he walked out the door. Eddie got in his van and headed to the address she gave over the phone. His heart raced when he talked to her for a few seconds. He was not sure what he was going to do when he was with her all night.
Before he knew it he was outside her door and knocking.
"Hi, Eddie," she smiled as she opened the door. "You look very handsome." She was surprised to see him in something else other than a band shirt and ripped jeans.
"Oh, thank you," he smiled, "you look wonderful." His eyes skimmed up and down her body. She wore a simple and casual dress. It was white with little sunflowers. It matched her personality. She wore her glasses and light makeup.
"Thank you," she smiled.
Eddie gestured for her to walk in front of him, they walked to his van and got inside. She listened to his music as he drove to the location of their date. She was nervous. She had never been on a date before and definitely not with a guy like Eddie.
"I hope you like water," Eddie said, Y/N looked out the windshield and saw that there was a little pond. He got out of the van and opened her door. She thanked him as she got out. She waited as he grabbed a basket from his backseat.
He led them down a little hill, his hand holding hers as she wobbled.
Once they made it to the flat ground, he let go of her hand. He reached into the basket and pulled out a blanket. He threw it on the ground and offered her to sit first.
She smiled as she sat down, smoothing down her dress to cover her thighs. Eddie sat next to her and took out a few snacks from the basket.
Within an hour they were talking like they knew each other for years. Eddie was learning so much about her and it made him like her even more. She had an amazing personality and she was funny. She made Eddie laugh so hard that water came out of his nose. Which made her laugh so hard she had to hold her stomach.
She didn't think she had ever been so happy to be with someone.
And for once, Eddie loved getting to know someone.
As another hour passed, Eddie's urgers got the best of him. She was telling a story and he was lost in her eyes. The way the moon shined down on her and the sound of the water, it couldn't get more romantic in his eyes.
Eddie didn't notice he was leaning in until she froze. He looked down at her lips as he closed the space between them. He softly kissed her lips, and his hands reached forward to wrap around her waist.
She was nervous but she kissed him back. Her hands shook as she moved her arms around his neck. She was new to this and she wasn't sure how to kiss him back. But as he kissed her harder, she got the hang of it.
The kiss got heated as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, she shivered and was surprised to hear a moan slip from her throat.
Eddie took the moan as a green light to move forward. His hands moved down to her thighs and began to slip under her dress.
Her lips stopped and she yanked back. Her hands stopped his hands from moving even further.
"Don't be nervous," he whispered, he went to attach his lips to hers again but she turned her head.
"I'm not, It's our first date, Eddie. I don't want to rush anything." She explained honestly.
"It's not rushing. I do this on all my first dates." Eddie shrugged like it wasn't a big deal.
Y/N felt a blow hit her chest. All of his dates? How many has he been on? How many had he brought to this exact spot?
"You're a pig," she scoffed as she shoved him off of her. She stood up.
"Woah, what's going on?" He asked as he stood up. He wasn't aware his fuck boy ways were sneaking out of him.
"Absolutely nothing anymore," she glared, "take me home." She marched to his van without a glance back.
~
The car ride was silent. She didn't speak a word, just stared out the window.
She should have known better.
"Did I do something wrong?" he asked as he pulled up to her house.
"I'll see you Monday." She spat as she got out and slammed his door.
"Y/N!" he yelled after her as he got out. He grabbed her arm and turned her around.
"What did I do?" he asked genuinely.
"I do this on all my dates," she mocked, her voice deep as she repeated his words. "I should have known it was all an act."
The realization smacked him in the face.
"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push like that." His eyes were soft as he apologized. "None of it is an act! I really like you and I'm not used to feeling that way. I'm used to something different, you know?"
"Maybe you need to figure out everything you feel, and maybe we can talk when you are ready to face those feelings." She smiled sadly and pecked his cheek. He watched as she walked inside.
~~~
The next night Eddie was all over the place. He performed and ran straight to the bar. He wanted to drink his sorrows away. He had one shot and he blew it. He showed just how washed up he was. He slammed down his shot and called for another.
"Hard night?" A random girl asked as she sat next to him. He turned his head to take in the blonde.
"Yep," he said, slamming down his second shot.
"Let me make you feel better," she whispered into his ear.
~
Eddie sat in the back of his van with the random girl on his lap. Her lips were on his neck, but everything felt wrong.
He wasn't enjoying it, and it wasn't making him forget about her. He tried to close his eyes, but all he saw was her sweet smile as they laughed by the water.
He stopped the girl's hands as they went for his belt.
"I can't do this. I'm sorry," he said, he didn't look at her as he grabbed his shirt and slipped it on.
"Are you serious? Since when?" the girl scoffed
"Have you ever really liked someone? Not like being in love, but in that area where you can see yourself falling in love with them?" He asked, the girl sighed and slipped on her shirt.
"Yeah. Chances are if you can already see yourself falling in love, it'll happen. You stuck in that spot?" She asked
"You know my reputation around here. I fuck and move on. She's different. I asked her out and we had an amazing date, then I fucked it up." He sighed, "Not sure how to fix it."
"Admitting it to yourself is the first step,"
"And the next?" he asked
"You admit it to her."
~~~
Monday morning arrived and Eddie was ready to win her back.
Since the project was finished, she wouldn't be sitting next to him. But that was not going to stop him.
He wrote a little note this morning, asking to meet outside during lunch. He walked in and saw her already sitting at her spot. He took a deep breath and handed the note to her.
She looked up at him but didn't say a word.
Eddie walked back to his desk. All throughout class he kept looking back at her.
~
Eddie waited outside and checked his watch. Lunch started ten minutes ago and she wasn't there. He was nervous he might have messed up too much and that she didn't care to fix it. She probably realized he wasn't worth the hassle or the emotions he caused.
He crunched the flowers in his grip as he looked over his shoulder.
"Hi,"
He heard her soft voice before he saw her. He turned around and smiled as she walked closer.
He was nervous as he handed her the flowers, "these are for you."
"Thanks," she said quietly as she took the flowers from his hands.
"I'm really sorry for acting like a dick. You were right, I needed to figure out everything I felt. I went to the bar and I met someone."
Y/N ignored the pain she felt as she listened.
"My plan was to do what I always did. Sleep with someone until I forgot why I was there in the first place. But I stopped it because it felt wrong. I hated myself for being with her. I kept thinking of you." He stepped closer as he held her hand.
"I was doing the wrong thing and with the wrong person. And it made me realize, that I really like you. And I want my main focus to be just on you. I want you." He looked deep into her eyes. "I would love to have the chance to take you out again. I've never actually been on a date, that was my first real one. I know I fucked up the beautiful night we had, but I really think I can make you feel special."
"I guess there's no harm in giving it a shot." She smiled
Eddie jumped to his feet with excitement.
"Thank you!" he crushed her in a hug as she laughed.
~~~
They had been dating for a month and Eddie was true to his word. She felt more special than ever and it was all because of him.
She felt a little nervous as they walked into the hideout. He was honest about his past here and the reputation he had. But she wanted to be a supportive girlfriend and watch him perform. She had to try to forget about all the girls there and just focus on her man.
"The second I'm done, I will be coming straight to you," he smiled. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. She was in a territory where Eddie was never taken, and she wanted to prove herself.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him harder. She wasn't shy as she snuck her tongue in his mouth. Her body rocked against his as his hands landed on her ass.
He felt his head spin as she pulled away. His eyes slowly opened as he caught his breath
"What was that?" he asked, his eyes dark as he drank her in
"Good luck kiss," she said with a shrug and smirk
"I'm going to need luck hiding the front of my pants," he teased as he adjusted his tight jeans.
"I'll help you faster," she whispered in his ear. She enjoyed the way he shuddered.
He kept his eyes on her as he walked into the back.
~
She understood why so many girls adored her boyfriend. The way he performed was incredible. It was hard to look anywhere else.
She waited at a table in the back as he wrapped up. His sweaty body came walking towards her but a girl stepped in.
Y/N couldn't hear the conversation but she could tell the girl was flirting by the way she ran her hand up Eddie's arm.
Then another girl came after that one left. And then other.
Y/N felt sick as she watched countless girls walk up and flirt with him. It was a painful reminder of what Eddie's past was.
She was quick to run outside, needed fresh air and to be away from the scene she was stuck watching over and over.
Eddie was quick to push everyone aside and follow her out.
"Hey baby," he said softly, she was leaning against the wall.
"You were amazing!" she praised as she pulled him into a hug. Eddie hugged her back and thanked her. He pulled back but kept his arms around her.
"Want to tell me what happened in there?" Eddie asked
Y/N sighed and looked down at her feet
"I was just a little jealous."
"Why? You are my girlfriend, they've got nothing on you." Eddie explained
Y/N scoffed and unhooked her arms from him.
"They have all had sex with you, Eddie! They've got plenty on me. I mean, I am nothing like those girls."
"Exactly!" Eddie said as he placed his hands on her face. "I don't want you to be anything like them. I want you because you are you. Yes, I've been physical with them, but that is all. There is no connection or emotional ties. It's different with you because I really see myself falling in love with you."
"Really?" she smiled as she looked up at him.
"Of course." He said as he crashed his lips on hers. She moaned as she kissed him back, her hands in his hair.
After a few seconds, she pulled away. Smirking as he chased her lips. She had him right around her finger.
"You know..." she started, her hands slipped down his body and rested on top of his jeans. "Maybe I'll eliminate the one thing they have on me." Her smirk made Eddie shiver in excitement.
"As in sex?" Eddie choked out. His eyes lit up like Christmas as he practically bounced with anticipation.
"Van, now." She said as she turned around and walked towards his fan.
He watched her walk away with a dopey smile on his face.
"YOU COMING?" she yelled as she turned. She walked backward and kept her eyes on him. She laughed as he seemed to snap out of his daydream. He fished out his keys and dropped them on the floor.
"SHIT, I'M COMING!" he screamed as he bent down and grabbed his keys.
She giggled as he ran straight to the van.
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nadvs · 6 months ago
Text
home before dark (part three)
pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader
rating mature 18+
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summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.
content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent
» masterlist
· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·
Rafe is sitting in a chair in the front room of your home, his chin resting on his hand, hardly paying any attention to the sitcom playing on the tv screen.
He’s pissed off. Why did it have to storm tonight of all nights, when he doesn’t have anything to numb the pain, nothing to drown out the sound of the rain drumming on the windows?
In his haste, he didn’t pack any coke before coming here. He didn’t think he’d need it this bad.
And that photo he saw upstairs. It’s making everything so much fucking worse.
This is how the world repays him for helping someone. Figures. He’s used to having shit luck. Trying to make his own father love him has been a losing game, and he’s been at that for years, so why would anything else go his way?
“Hey.” Rafe straightens when he hears you. You look into the room. “Did the thunder wake you up, too?”
He hasn’t slept at all. But he nods.
There’s a blankness in his stare, the tv casting dull colors over his face. He didn’t bother to turn the light on.
You cross the room, hazy from your interrupted sleep, and settle on the couch. You’re far away from him, acting like you’ve never touched, even though you were just pressed against each other on his motorcycle.
You wonder if it felt nice to him, too. Or if you were just extra weight on his bike, an irritating responsibility he was cornered into taking on.
“Do you have any booze around here?” Rafe mutters. You catch the desolation in his tone.
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
You instantly feel ridiculous for expecting you won’t be met with the cold shoulder. You doubt he’ll answer. But then, because the world must be off its axis, he does.
“Fucking hate this weather,” he says.
His words make a chill sink into your bones. You remember your father telling you the news years ago after he got the phone call. A torrential downpour. The freeway. Zero visibility.
Anne lost control of her car.
By the look on your dad’s face, you knew what that meant. Rafe’s mother didn’t survive the wreck.
He doesn’t have to say it. You know that’s why he hates storms.
“I can distract you,” you offer, “if you want?”
It was something you did as kids. Rafe would be angry or sad or hurt or anything and you’d talk his ear off about whatever you could think of until the dark cloud hanging over him drifted away.
His feelings always felt too big for him. You were the best at making them small enough to manage.
Rafe is used to wanting to be left alone. But not right now. Not if he can be with you. Admitting it feels impossible. The wall he spent years building around himself is solid from both sides.
“It’s your house,” he finally says. “Do what you want.”
You take it an invitation to stay. You turn your attention to the tv, as if holding eye contact with him will make him take it back.
It gives him a chance to look at you. How the fuck have you not lost patience with him yet? Why do you still care?
“I keep wanting to ask why you’re helping me,” you say, just loud enough to be heard over the tv.
Rafe exhales sharply, rubbing his forehead.
“This is you distracting me,” he scoffs. “Aren’t you supposed to do the talking?”
The fact that he’s expecting you to replicate the days of your youth gives you a sliver of hope that maybe he misses them, too.
“There has to be a reason you’re doing it,” you murmur.
“Can’t you just be happy that I am?” he responds. A white flash of lighting pools into the room for a split second.
“No,” you say. Finally, he gives in.
“Because I…” he begins.
The noise from the show is adding to the frustrating confusion engulfing him. He angrily picks up the remote and turns the tv off, plunging both of you in darkness.
You turn your head towards him again, only able to make out the hard outline of his jaw.
“I always had to look out for you,” he says. “I guess I still do.”
You look down at your lap, taken aback that Rafe holds any sense of loyalty for you.
You almost want to remind him of what he said earlier, that you’re not kids anymore, but you don’t want to challenge him.
“And I don’t know why,” he adds, voice thin, “but you’re not a dick to me like everyone else is, so I kind of owe you.”
All you can hear is your own breathing and the ticking of the clock in the foyer and the tap of faltering raindrops. The storm is passing.
“It’s because you didn’t do anything wrong,” you say into the silence. “It’s not like you did something to make me hate you. You shut me out, but I get why.”
Your words reverberate through him. He wonders if you think that he hates you.
Still, you could have gone to any other guy and asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend.
“Why’d you come to me?” he asks.
“Because he’s scared of you.” You don’t have to nor do you want to say your ex’s name.
“And you’re not?”
“No.” You tilt your head. “We used to be best friends.”
You say it like he wouldn’t remember. He couldn’t erase it from his brain if he tried. And he has.
The heaviness of all this is suffocating to him. The past is done. There’s no point in digging up things that’ll just hurt him all over again.
He stands up, chasing out the familiarity that was slowly growing between you. But before he leaves the room, he pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose with trembling fingers.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, either, alright?” Rafe says into the dark, irritated, answering the question you asked him on the shoreline hours ago. “Not on purpose.”
As his shadow retreats, the words he left you with ring in your head. He doesn’t blame you. But you did do something wrong.
Rafe had his head buried into his pillow, throat burning from crying through his grief, every night for months.
As he lies in an unfamiliar bed all for a girl whose very existence makes him feel a multitude of good and bad all at once, he’s thrown back into those days, as if he’s a boy again.
His mother used to tell him it was a strength to be so sensitive, but her voice faded and his father’s voice got so much louder. What he tells him every time Rafe can’t swallow down the tears echoes in his mind. Toughen up. You’re fine.
But he’s not fine. He can’t stop crying and he knows he has to tell you he can’t do this anymore. Being with you brings back too much.
But the next morning, when Rafe finds you sitting at the kitchen island, wearing your pajamas and a smile, the prospect of ending this is tossed away.
You have access to him that nobody else does. You and that damn smile are a weakness that he didn’t know he had. And while he can act happy and careless around everyone else, he can’t put on an act for you. Ever.
“How’d you sleep?” you ask. Your hands are cupping a mug, your phone sitting beside it.
“Like shit,” Rafe replies, pacing to the fridge. “Took hours to fall asleep.”
You feel guilty that he didn’t have a good rest, considering he’s only here because you were too frightened to be alone.
“You?” he says after a beat. The ice must be melting if he’s actually asking about you for once.
“My sleep was good,” you reply. “It helped having you here.”
Rafe’s cheeks get warm. Someone actually wanting him around is a foreign feeling.
By the time your conversation was over last night, the rain and thunder had dwindled. It couldn’t have been the storm keeping him awake. Curiosity pushes you to figure it out.
“Was the bed uncomfortable?” you ask.
“No,” he answers. He finds a glass and fills it with water. His throat still hurts from crying last night.
You watch him, his presence commanding as he leans back against the counter opposite you. The dark, shallow bags beneath his eyes are illuminated in the bright lights above you. He looks exhausted.
“Was the room too warm? Or too cold?” you say.
“Can you relax?” Rafe huffs, his tone almost playful.
He isn’t about to admit that he can’t remember the last time he fell asleep sober. And he’s definitely not going to tell you that the last thing he thought about before finally passing out was that his cheeks burned from how hard he was wiping his tears away.
“The least I can do is make sure you’re comfortable since I made you stay the night,” you say.
His brows furrow as he takes a long gulp, tipping his head back.
“Nobody can make me do anything,” he replies once he downs the water. You know it’s the truth. It makes the fact that he’s doing this for you all the more meaningful.
Before you can respond, your phone buzzes loudly on the countertop. Rafe sees your face fall when your eyes drop to the screen. You read the notification for a moment, then sigh and shake your head.
“He emailed me,” you say incredulously. “I blocked him on everything and he emailed me.”
Rafe leans over to see if you’ll let him look for himself. You slide your phone towards him and he picks it up to read Ty’s message.
What you have with him isn’t real. We both know it. Let me prove that I can treat you how you deserve. Please. I’m sorry for everything. I love you.
A part of Rafe is concerned you’ll fall for it.
“What’re you gonna do?” he asks.
“Block him there, too,” you mutter. “He does this. He’s mean, then he pretends like he changed, then he’s mean again… It’s the same bullshit over and over.”
Rafe blocks him for you and places your phone on the counter. You bite the inside of your cheek as the dread you always feel when Ty contacts you floods your every sense.
The despair on your face makes Rafe’s stomach sink. The next time he sees Ty, he’s beating the shit out of him.
“He’ll stop, okay? I’ll make him,” he says.
You’re still skeptical. Rafe definitely scares him, but Ty called him a bullshit rebound last night. He wrote that what you have with Rafe isn’t real. You’re not fooling him. And you’re afraid he won’t leave you alone until he believes you’re actually in a new relationship now.
“Yeah.” You exhale slowly. “Doesn’t sound like he’s falling for this, though.” You motion between you and him.
Rafe has to take a moment to catch your meaning. Falling for this. Your pretend relationship. Right.
“I didn’t tell anyone it’s fake,” you say, afraid it somehow got out. “Did you?”
Rafe shakes his head no and puts his empty glass in the sink. He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you again.
“Do you want me to keep crashing here until your mom and dad get back?” he asks.
You hate that your mind goes there, but you wonder when the last time he said mom out loud was. You shake away the thought.
“Not if you can’t get any actual sleep,” you respond.
Rafe typically gets irritated when someone can’t make up their mind. He wants everything done quickly, so he doesn’t have to stop and think.
But this is you and even though you’re scared of sleeping on your own, you’re considering how staying here affects Rafe and it gives him a heavy feeling of shame. He spent years avoiding the only person who never abandoned him. The only person who still gives a shit.
“I’ll just leave my stuff here,” he says, making the decision for you.
“Thank you.” You mean it. The thought of someone being here with you is comforting.
As usual, Rafe ends the conversation quickly and abruptly, leaving the room. You soon hear the engine of his motorcycle rattling loudly from outside, the roar fading as he drives away.
You hoped that he’d at least want to hang out with you now. You don’t understand why you keep expecting more from him. It just hurts you every time.
You don’t hear from Ty for the rest of the day. You manage to run some errands without worrying you’ll see him because even when Rafe isn’t with you, you don’t feel as scared knowing he’s in your corner.
The days of the week mean practically nothing on the north side of the island over the summer. There’s a party almost every night, this time at a house just down the street from you.
You invite your friends to your place, drinking as you get ready, deciding to walk over to the party. You turn up already tipsy, finding yourself looking for Rafe even though you know you should only really be doing that if Ty is bothering you.
When you walk into the loud, crowded house, seeing you reminds Rafe of why he isn’t smoking or drinking or snorting anything tonight.
He’s had countless fights while wasted, but he wants to have a clear mind when he sees Ty. He needs to make the fucker pay and not give him a chance to get even one punch in.
You meet Rafe’s blue eyes every so often throughout the night, glad you’re finally able to have fun again because you know he’s keeping you safe.
The second Ty walks in, even though he hasn’t come close to approaching you, you make your way to Rafe.
You stand close to him, placing your hand in his, acting like a girlfriend to someone who is only doing this because he feels an overdue sense of loyalty to you.
Rafe stills for a moment before he laces his fingers with yours. His skin is hot, making your heart flutter in a way you know it shouldn’t.
“Hey,” you say over the music. His ring presses against your thumb.
“Hey,” he says tensely. He’s not used to affection, especially in front of people.
But this is what he signed up for. He needs to act like a boyfriend and he’s not going to fuck this up. It’s the first real responsibility he’s had that he actually gives a shit about.
His eyes land on Ty and his plan to confront him takes a backseat when he realizes he doesn’t want to let go of you. Right now, he’d rather have his hand in yours instead of using it to throw a punch. It’s like every touch you give him leaves a heavier impact than the last.
You immediately notice how tense Rafe is.
“Can you relax?” you joke, imitating the way he said it this morning. Your heart warms when his dimples appear, framing a smile he can’t stifle.
“I don’t sound like that,” he says.
“You sound exactly like that,” you reply with a laugh, picturing how tired he looked in your kitchen. “Please tell me you got some sleep today.”
Again, the concern you seem to have never lost for him appears.
“I did,” he says. He crashed in his bed the second he got home.
“How come it took you so long to fall asleep last night?”
Rafe’s knee-jerk reaction is to avoid the question. Especially if it’s you asking. But he can’t forget how shitty it felt when you brushed him off last night at the beach, so he pushes himself to answer.
“Just, uh…” He looks away. “Couldn’t turn off my brain.”
You gaze up at him. It almost aches, how badly you’d love to know what goes through his mind.
“When did this start?” one of his friends amusedly asks, pointing between you two. You notice Ty close by, his gaze sharp as he eavesdrops. Rafe notices him, too.
You squeeze Rafe’s hand tighter, clinging to him. He notices that his entire body buzzes when you do that.
“What, was I supposed to call you?” Rafe responds.
“I’m just saying,” his friend replies with a laugh, “it’s like all of a sudden, you got a girl out of nowhere.”
Alarm stings every inch of your skin when you notice Ty’s posture straighten in your peripheral.
“Don’t sound so surprised, asshole,” Rafe replies lightheartedly, gently pulling his hand out of your grasp to drape his heavy arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against him.
You follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his torso. The relief from how well he played it off and the comfort you get from how he’s holding you is overwhelming.
Rafe dips his head to speak into your ear, his cheek brushing against yours, his cologne fresh.
“Think he’s falling for it now?” he mumbles, voice lowering an octave. With the way he’s holding you, you might fall for it yourself.
“Yeah,” you breathe. You squeeze him tighter, not for show, but because you want to. You’ve wanted to hug him since the funeral, when he was a boy with bloodshot eyes in a crumpled black suit, but he never let you get this close.
He brings his other hand up to your face, cradling your jaw, his thumb rubbing over your cheek. His touch is so tender that you have to remind yourself it’s Rafe doing this.
You’re suspended, bodies curved together, cheeks brushing, like you’re playing a game to see who’ll let go first.
“And he’s staying away from you, right?” His breath is warm against the shell of your ear.
You nod, at a loss for words.
“Is he watching?” he asks. You can see from the corner of your eye that your ex is staring right at you.
“Mhm,” you hum with a nod.
At this point, Rafe is being selfish. This is close enough. You wanted him to act like you’re a couple and he’s done it. He can pull away now. Maybe he should keep his arm around you for a little longer, but he doesn’t need to be this close.
Instead, he lowers to press his lips against your cheek and you hug him tighter, and fuck, it feels so good that he misses it before it’s even over.
He can’t believe that his body yearns to be this close to you. You opened up the floodgates the second you put your hand on him the first time a couple of nights ago. How good would it feel if you were doing it for real?
You lean into his kiss. His lips are so soft. You wish you could feel them against yours. It’s all to make everyone think you’re actually together. You keep telling yourself that.
When your arms around him weaken just a little, you feel something at his back, protruding against your forearm.
Your eyebrows draw together as you pull back only a few inches to meet Rafe’s eyes, your mind going to the worst possible scenario. Your breath catches. It’s a weapon.
“What is that?” you ask quietly, nudging against the hard item tucked into the band of his jeans.
“What do you think?”
“Rafe,” you say. His jaw tightens. The moment is gone. The wall is back up. Your tone teeters on a thin edge, like you’re judging him.
“You’re surprised the psycho owns a gun?” he scoffs.
He didn’t brush off what Ty said like you thought he did. It makes your stomach turn that your ex’s lie actually stuck with Rafe.
You glance over to see Ty’s back as he storms out of the room. Part of you is relieved, but right now, you mostly feel anxious that Rafe believes a lie.
“I never called you that,” you reiterate to him quietly. “I’ve never said anything bad about you. You think you can trust what he says?”
“I’m not planning on using it on him, okay?” Rafe snaps. “Unless he asks for it.”
He wishes you didn’t notice it. If you didn’t think he was fucked up before, you do now. He’s pissed off and embarrassed and disappointed all at once.
You’ve been trying to reconnect with him for so long. If he gives in, you’ll see that he’s not even close to who he was when you knew him. He’ll just let you down.
He realizes he hasn’t kept his distance only because you’re a painful reminder of a time he wants to forget. It’s also because he’s sure you wouldn’t like who he’s become. And he can’t take the rejection.
You’re still, unable to believe that he actually has a gun. That he would use it. That these are the lengths he’s going to to keep you safe.
You haven’t lost contact with him, but Rafe checks out of the moment and pulls his arm away.
“He’s gone now,” he mutters. You get the message. He’s done pretending. You drop your arms and find your friends again.
Hours later, the party is dwindling, but far from over. Rafe has been sober the entire time, making him all the more antsy and irritable.
He thought he’d beat the shit out of Ty tonight, but he’s exhausted and he can’t stop shaking. Why the hell is he shaking?
Rafe loses his patience and approaches you while you’re dancing with your friends.
“Let’s go,” he says, holding your hand. The contact makes your head spin all over again. Even though you’d like to stay, you comply.
You notice Ty’s eyes on you when you leave. He’s pretending to be a good guy again, keeping his distance, but you know it’s only a matter of time before he cracks.
Once you reach Rafe’s motorcycle in the cool night air, he hands you his helmet and you take it without hesitation.
After the short drive, you walk up the steps to your front door together. But you soon stop in your tracks, eyes wide as you stare at the ground.
Rafe follows your eye line. Mud’s been tracked onto the porch in fragmented footprints.
“I can’t… I can’t remember if that was there before,” you stammer. “Did you see it this morning?”
“I don’t know,” he responds. He rushed out of here too quickly to have noticed something like that.
You look around, as if you can find an answer in the darkness surrounding your home. You would have noticed it after you ran your errands earlier today. Probably. Maybe.
It could have been you. Or Rafe. Or one of your friends.
Or Ty. He didn’t arrive at the party until late into the night. Could he have been creeping around your house? Why would he?
Rafe glances up to confirm that there aren’t any cameras aiming at the door. It pisses him off when he notices there aren’t any cameras at all. He quickly catches on that your breathing has grown faster.
“Come on,” he says, gently pulling you by the crook of your elbow. “Let’s go inside. It’s nothing.”
He doesn’t believe his own words, but there’s no reason to scare you any further.
“What if he was here?” you say, letting Rafe pull you to the door. He takes the key out of your hand and pushes it into the lock.
“Then I’ll shoot him,” he mutters.
“That’s not funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
The door swings open, prompting the security system to start beeping.
You flip on the light and enter the code as he shuts the door behind you. You’re so frightened and unnerved that you jam one of the buttons with the wrong finger, prompting a harsh error noise from the system.
“Can you do this?” you huff. You tell Rafe the five-digit code and he quickly enters it, arming the system again. You notice his hand is trembling.
“Are you okay?” you ask. You know it’s not from fear. Rafe isn’t afraid of anything. He must be high on something. “What’d you take?”
“Nothing,” he says with a humorless laugh. It dawns on him that his body is reacting to the lack of coke in his system. “That’s the problem.”
“What?” you ask.
Rafe sighs, double-checking that the front door is locked for your peace of mind.
“I can’t be wasted if that asshole tries me. I haven’t taken anything since last night,” he says. “But it just made shit worse.”
He realizes how messed up it sounds. How messed up it is that being sober for one night makes him shake like this. He has a problem. But he never really had a reason to get clean before now.
You watch Rafe checking the lock and like a riptide, everything crashes down on you at once.
The torment from Ty harassing you. The guilt from asking Rafe to take on this responsibility. The sadness from knowing that he’s only doing it because he feels a sense of obligation for you and wants nothing more.
“Bet you’re glad I have a gun now,” Rafe mutters. He turns to look at you, your expression grim. “What?”
“I don’t want to keep bothering you with this,” you admit, your heart racing with panic. “I don’t want you to have to sleep here and I don’t want you to have to drive me home all the time and… I hate that this is happening and that I had to drag you into it.”
His eyes travel over the anguish etched on your face.
“What, like it’s your fault he’s a piece of shit?” he says.
You chew on the inside of your cheek and look up to the ceiling, trying to keep your tears at bay. It’s still odd being alone with him, having him in your home.
Rafe hasn’t tried to make someone feel better in a long time. He hasn’t cared enough to. He takes a deep breath.
“I don’t mind doing this, alright?” he says.
“You don’t?” You take in the softness in his eyes that you don’t often see.
“Think I’d be here if I did?”
“I don’t know,” you say. “You used to do things you didn’t want to all the time for me.”
The Rafe that was your best friend always went along with whatever you wanted to play, wherever you wanted to go.
He grits his teeth, tearing his eyes off of you, trying not to think about how when he was a kid, if someone asked him who his favorite person was, he’d tell them that it was a tie between you and his mom.
“Don’t talk about how shit used to be,” he says quietly. And because he doesn’t want to see that hurt look on your face again, he adds, “Please.”
The mere prospect of talking about the past seems to actually give him pain. It dawns on you that you’re looking at a man who may have never processed what happened to him.
“Do you want something to eat?” you offer, changing the subject swiftly.
Rafe realizes he’s starving.
“Yeah,” he says.
A memory washes over you as Rafe sits at your kitchen counter, eating leftovers you heated up for him.
It was a humid summer day and you two were scarfing down the lunch his mother made for you after a morning of swimming behind his house.
Rafe always liked picking the wildflowers that grew in the grass that lined the beach for his mom. The ones he found that day were purple, sitting in a small vase she put in the center of the dining room table.
Every time he gave her a small bundle of uneven flowers, she had the same joyful reaction. Rafe always looked so proud of himself when she enthusiastically thanked her son.
It was just another happy day.
Until Ward came into the kitchen and like always, Rafe’s smile disappeared. Your best friend tended to shrink when his dad was around. Ward almost always found something to chide his son about. He never spoke like that to his daughters.
“Could you eat any faster?” Ward muttered. “Where are your manners?”
“Leave him alone, Ward,” Anne said with a sigh. His mother’s tone was only ever sharp when she was defending her little boy.
You remember watching her lean to kiss Rafe’s head, earning a small smile from him. Then she winked at you, trying to dismiss the tension from the room.
You wonder what Ward has said to Rafe ever since he lost the only person who stuck up for him.
You face the sink as you wash your hands, your back to Rafe, trying to stifle the tears that build as you imagine what the world would be like if the wreck never happened. Who would Rafe be if he never lost her? If a part of him didn’t die with her?
Is it crazy to think that you’d still be best friends, instead of two strangers pushed together in such an arduous situation? You miss her so much that it hurts and all this is yet another thing adding to the weight sitting on your shoulders.
Rafe hears you sniffle and when you finally turn around, you stare at the floor as you try to rush away.
“What is it?” he asks. Is he already failing at making you feel safe?
You freeze. You can’t tell him what’s really bothering you. Especially since he asked you not to talk about your memories.
“I’m just freaked out.” It’s not exactly what you’re thinking of now, but it’s true. This mess with Ty is a nightmare. “If he was really creeping around here… Ugh, I don’t know what he’s going to do next.”
Rafe chews slower as he observes you through narrow eyes. He’s no stranger to the pain of crying to sleep. He doesn’t want that for you.
You notice his hands are still trembling. You have no idea how often he does coke, but it must be an addiction if one night without it makes his body react like this.
“What else do you need?” he asks. It comes out sharper than he intended, like he’s asking what else you could possibly want from him after he’s given you so much.
Your lips thin as you stare at him from across the counter. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone look so miserable.
“Nothing,” you mutter. “Good night.”
You start to walk away but Rafe says your name to stop you and it sounds so good coming out of his mouth that your stomach numbs. When was the last time he said it?
You turn to look at him. His eyes dart down to his food.
“What if…” he begins, his fork loudly clattering against the dish. “Would it help if I slept in your room?”
You’re surprised. And soothed by the thought of him sleeping close by in case your ex does something as unhinged as break in.
Everyone else paints Rafe as rude and aggressive, but you knew it. You knew he still had some kindness in him.
“Yeah,” you say. “It would help.”
(part four)
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signedkoko · 9 months ago
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Could I get a Mammon, Vox and Husk with a S/O who gets harassed on the street and their reaction? You can have full creative control over what type of harassment!
I love your fics- if this isn’t getting the creative juices flowing just let me know and I’ll request something different <3
🦷 anon
Husk | Mammon | Vox [Romantic]
In which some loathsome idiot thinks they'll get away with harassing their beloved s/o.
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One of your favourite date nights is spent bar hopping
Pop a drink or two in each one, sometimes sharing one cocktail, his wing draped around you, your head leant on his shoulder, humming to the music surrounding you
Both of you had a preference for the less popular spots, the kinds of places you got the weirdest combinations, where he could be inspired and you could give him thoughts
The plus side of the smaller joints was that the music was never too loud, drinks were cheaper, and there was always a few spots free at the bar
Downside was that most places had their regulars, the kind of people who couldn't get in anywhere else
The kind of desperation that builds and spreads like mold in the corner of a dark room next to a leaky pipe
On a few occasions, someone would harmlessly ask to buy you a drink and would turn tail when Husk gave them his usually 'fuck off' look
But this time, the guy would just not get the hint
" What? Already claimed dibs on the bitch? "
Yeah- no, that attitude towards you is not going to fly
Not even three seconds and there's a bottle smashed on the drunk demons head, and three cards flying back into Husk's hand
That's when the bleeding starts
You slap a 20 down for your bill and jump straight up, already being dragged by Husk out the door
Insists if he stayed there you would have both gotten banned anyways, and he likes that spot
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You guys don't really go out so casually without a good reason, or just for old times sake
A sin and his spouse on a city street in greed was just asking for bad things to happen
But still, if you asked and he had nothing that day, Mammon would always rather get quality time with you and people watch
Thats most of your conversation, pointing out demons and joking about what you think they are like, what the do, how they speak
It's always a fun game, until some newcomer saw you laughing at him and marched right up, clearly on something and clearly ready to have a go at someone
The moment he reaches for your wrist, his thumb falls to the floor, a messy and jagged cut the only sign of attack besides one of Mammons spider legs now revealed
Before he can even realize the pain or what's happened, Mammon lets out a menacing laugh
" Every extra inch towards my broad is another finger. "
That demon was already screaming and running away, most the crowd on the street that was watching now hurrying in any direction opposite of you and Mammon
" I'm only worth one finger? "
" Nah. Just being generous for once. "
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Not really a street guy, but unfortunately some press conferences and events require mingling and interacting with others, which he never liked
Thankfully, with you he has an excuse to stay away from others, or show you off
He usually goes for the latter
He's all 'Have you met my wife?' 'My wife loves x and y!' 'Isn't my wife absolutely gorgeous?'
You are the first topic he speaks of after his company; you'd be the first if he didn't have to waste so much time being a salesman, but that is how the cookie crumbles
Sometimes when there's specific press releases, he has to send you off for a moment, where you usually go and mingle with some of the others in his industry you befriended
During one such interview, he couldn't help but spot out the corner of his eye, some lousy business woman drape her arm around your waist and grab at your hip
" Sorry yeah, this interview is over. "
Literally shoves his way over, sparks and electricity flying, to rip you out of her arms
" Baaabe, is this a friend? Whatever the case, we really gotta get going! "
Jealousy 3000
He's glad he stepped in after he overhears that lady had a habit of harassing other attendees
New clause in every interview; they have to include you or provide security over you while he is busy
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Author's Note - Tooth anon comes in for another PIPIN HOT request!! I actually feel so bad because every time I take a break form writing is on yoru request and that really makes it look bad I am so sorry 😩
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mooooonnnzz · 3 months ago
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I saw your earlier post on Platonic fics and Im a sucker for them so here u go : father figure stanford headcannons maybe takes place after he comes back from the portal, reader is an adventurous spirit that works at the shack and maybe secretly helped stan get his brother back? Idk im just throwing things here lol
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You Know I Love You Still
Stanford x daughter!reader
💗 stanford dad hc!!
💗 i literally saw the request it and started writing and got a lil carried away 😭 its like half story half hc? if that makes sense
💗 requests r so open rn! i def dont have any fav requests… (anything platonic or familial will be the first ones i write i LOVE those types of requests)
💗 the age of the reader is young like 16/17? ik that lowkey contradicts with the time line but wtv STANFORD DAD HC!!
💗 it’s a little bit of everything? like it’s not only just reader and stanford, the twins r also included in some scenarios and also stan
💗 a big happy family 😭
💗 fem reader gulp i completely didnt realize until i was done that i used she/her when referring to the reader
💗 next fic will use gender neutral pronouns I SWUEAR!!
💗2k words
💗 i apologize for rhe misspell and mistakes i didnt catch in advance
Working together with your Uncle Stan to build the portal to bring your dad back to the right dimension was tiresome. Nights were sleepless and many of them were spent in the underground lab, where you and Stan did everything possible to assemble the portal. Trying to keep such a secret away from the twins and Soos was unexpectedly hard. The knowledge of hiding someone so vital to you and to your Uncle Stan was weighing down on you and him. Then came the day where his awaited arrival was promised. You could barely sleep that night. You thought of so many different possibilities and scenarios of how you would greet him. Would he remember you? Did he ever miss you? Does he even love you?!
The next day came in like a tornado and before you knew it, you were protectively standing in front of the button; trying your absolute hardest to prevent the twins from pressing the button.
“Why do you guys want to stop the portal so badly!” You yelled over the loud swirling wind that emitted from the portal. “Because it’s dangerous!” Dipper retorted, using his arm to shield him from the debris whizzing past him. “G-Grunkle Stan isn’t who he says he is!” Dipper said, stepping closer to you.
“Whatever you guys saw or heard isn’t what you think it is! Please, you need to believe me.” You begged, your eyes brimming with tears. You’ve worked so hard to get this portal up and running and you weren’t going to let Dipper or anyone stop you from being able to see your dad.
Soos came up from behind and wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry, dude.” He picked you up and took you away from the button. “Soos, no!” You thrashed around his hold. You pound your fists against his arms, hoping it’ll loosen his grip on you but nothing you did worked. No matter how much you begged and fought against him, he didn’t budge. He just held you closer to him, muttering ‘I’m Sorry’ under his breath.
“This all stops now!” Dipper raised his hand, palm flattened out, ready to push the button when Stan appeared at the doorway. “Don’t touch that button!”
He’s hunched forward, hand leaning on the frame of the doorway as he pants. Relief washes over you upon seeing Stan. Silence fills the room for a minute and all you can hear is your heart hammer against your ribcage. Stan walks towards Dipper, beckoning him to not press the button.
“If you just let me explain—“ He’s cut off by his watch repeatedly beeping. Suddenly the ground begins to shake.
The portal powers up and the circle enlarges. The electricity spazzes and travels throughout the room, creating streaks of electrical power. Your feet lift off the ground and soon everyone’s floating up in the air. The wind is fierce and it’s whipping through every direction, pushing you towards the wall.
Dipper yells at Mable to turn off the portal before it causes anymore damage. She tugs herself closer to the button using a stray cable and while she wraps herself around the neck holding up the button, Stan is begging her to listen to him and to not press the button. He’s soon tackled by Soos who pushes him away from Mable. They all fight with each other and you’re watching with a bated breath.
The portal pulses with power, sending you back first into the wall. Stan and Dipper bicker back and forth and Mable is torn with the decision of either believing her brother or her Grunkle. She lowers her hand, eyes closed and you're almost convinced she’s going to press the button when she lets go of the button. She floats up with her arms raised. “Grunkle Stan, I believe you.” She says.
“Mable, are you crazy?! We’re all gonna—!”
The world flashes white and you're immediately knocked out. You awaken to yourself plummeting face first down to the floor. You groan, pushing yourself up with one hand and the other wiping off the dust on your face. Looking around you can see your family scattered around the room, each of them slowly waking up from whatever happened and stumbling back to their feet.
Your head quickly whips towards the portal and your heart lurches into your throat upon seeing a figure step out of it. He stands still, staring straight ahead as he takes off his hood and goggles. And what hid behind them was your father.
After the initial shock of meeting the one behind the three books and the reveal of him being related to Stan was pushed aside, you presented yourself with the help of Stan. “H-Hi, Dad.” You awkwardly greet yourself.
His eyes stop on you and he freezes, eyes blown wide and mouth slightly ajar. He takes a minute to process the absurdity of the situation before he’s snapping back to consciousness. He blinks once, his mouth stuttering as he finds the right words to say. He then blinks again, stepping a cautious step towards you. Your name softly spills out of his mouth and your heart soars hearing your Dad finally utter your name again.
You take a step forward and then another and another until you’re face to face with him. Being closer to him allowed you to see how much he has aged since the last time you saw him. “Dad…” You whisper, throwing yourself into him.
A light wheeze escapes his mouth from the sudden impact of your body crashing on him. Once he recovers, his arms are quickly wrapped around you, hugging you with so much warmth and love you almost sobbed right then and there.
He snuggled his face against your hair, breathing in your familiar scent he missed so dearly while he was away. “We have so much to catch up on.” You say so quietly that he almost lost your words if it wasn’t for you being directly near his ear. He hums in affirmation, cherishing the long awaited reunion with his daughter.
“I feel like this is another part where one of us faints again.” Mable says in utter disbelief at the scene that unfolded in front of her. “Ohoh!” Soos laughed out. “I’m so on it, dudes.” As if on command his eyes roll to the back of his head and he faints flat on his back.
HEADCANON TIME!!
• You weren’t really expecting to talk to him much due to Stan wanting to talk to his brother, but after their fight, he came looking for you. When he found you, you were sitting on the couch that was outside on the porch. You were reading a book you recently purchased from the bookstore. Nose deep in your book, you failed to realize Ford standing beside you. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his trench coat. Quietly he asked, “Is there room for one more?”
• The night was spent with the two of you getting to know each other. From your favorite color to your favorite show, what food you like to eat and so on. Ford wanted to fully understand and know you as a person. He wanted to make up all the years he lost with you.
• The next day, you awoke to the smell of your favorite breakfast food being cooked. With haste you pushed your blanket off of you and slipped on your slippers and sped off into the kitchen where Ford was buttering the pan. He looked over to you and flashed you a smile. “I made you your favorite.” He said, motioning over to the table where he laid out your breakfast. “You didn’t have to do this.” You scratched your cheek, a small laugh of surprise leaving you. “I’m just doing what I always dreamed of doing.” He shoveled out his breakfast onto his plate using a spatula. “How’s the food, kiddo?” He asks, placing the pan and spatula on the dirty side of the sink. “Actually pretty good for someone who hasn't been in this dimension for over a decade!” You jest, taking another delicious bite from your breakfast. Ford jokingly rolled his eyes, ruffling your hair as he walked past you and sat down on his chair. “Already poking fun at me.” He said, shaking his head.
• Stanford knew he had to focus on his projects, he had so many things he left unfinished that he'd been dying to get his hands on the minute he stepped foot into his dimension. But he couldn’t seem to pull himself away from you. He loved seeing you interact with the twins, he loved watching how pieces of his personality shone through you. Like the way you’re so meticulous with where you put things, or how you were forever curious about the things around you, and even the abundance of questions you’d mutter to yourself as you discovered something new. That’s all of him right there, in front of him and he couldn’t grasp such a thought that you were his!
• He finds himself gazing upon baby photos Stan took of you when you were younger. Even if he’s angry at his twin currently, he’s forever grateful that he documented such beautiful memories in a scrapbook. “Y’know, I used to tell stories about you to her.” A shriek leaves Ford. He jumps forward, the scrapbook tumbling down his lap and onto the floor. “You idiot! Be careful.” Stan sneered, kneeling down to the floor to pick up the scrapbook. “Stanley!” Ford leans his head back, trying to regain his composure. “You scared me!” He says. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Stan waves him off, grabbing the scrapbook and tucking it in between his arms. They stand in awkward silence, eyes darting around the place uneasily. “Did…” Ford starts, shattering the silence. “Did she like the stories you told of me?” Stan smiles fondly, nodding his head. “She loved them. She thought you were some stupid amazing superhero, no matter what I told her.” Ford furrowed his brows. “Wait, what do you mean by no matter what you told her?” Stan nervously laughed. “Hey, why don’t you keep looking at these photos! Wait here, look at this one. Haha! She’s trying to eat her toes, isn’t that adorable?” “Stanley.”
• Outings between the two of you were very common. He loved being tugged around the town of Gravity Falls by you as you pointed at various different shops and locations. You told him the reasons why you hated them or loved them, and some were tied to stories that happened within the summer. He seriously questioned how you and the twins survived so many times where you were just so close to death. The mall was a place where you and him resided the most. With the money he took from Stan, he paid for almost everything you wanted. Entering the shack with so many bags was a shock to everyone. “Woah! Did you buy the whole mall?” Mable jokes, grabbing one of the bags to help you with the load. “Basically,” you laughed, instructing Mable to rally Soos and Dipper to have a little haul of what you bought. Stan watched with a raised brow as you stumbled into the living room with Mable following closely behind. “Where did you get all the money to buy her all of that?” Stan asks. “Just stole some money from some hobo.” Ford said, walking into the living room to join in on the haul. Stan didn’t understand what he said and opened the cash register. When he saw all the money he had stored the day before gone, it all clicked.
• Adventures out in the woods is a must. Gathering the twins and your dad, all four of you venture out into the woods in hopes to find something new. “Why couldn’t Grunkle Stan tag along with us?” Mable asked as she kneeled down to pluck a flower from the dirt. “Because he’s being a wet towel.” Dipper muttered, scribbling down a rough drawing of the flower Mable was picking in a book you bought him. “So what kind of anomalies you three stumbled upon?” Ford questioned. You and the twins began to dump everything onto him, from when you started seeing them to when Dipper and Mable came. Ford couldn’t truly focus on what they were saying, mostly because it was a jumbled excited mess of words, but partially because he was astonished with the trio in front of him. They went through so much and yet they’re still so headstrong. He could definitely see a little bit of him in Dipper and Mable.
• Stan would find you and Ford fallen asleep on the couch or in his lab, all huddled up together and completely knocked out. Snores filled the room and he found it amusing that you and him both snores the same. Videos and photos were definitely taken by Mable.
• Ford would tell stories of his adventures in another dimension to you. Stemming from how he started from the ground up to him getting banned from many other dimensions for stealing parts. “You’re not so different from Uncle Stan,” You laughed, shaking your head. “What! It was only a few…hundred dimensions.”
• There’s times where you’d wake up in a cold sweat, afraid that your Dad finally coming back was just a painful dream your brain played on you. But when you would get ready to find him, you’d step on his stomach or back. “Ough!” Ford groaned out in pain. Being suddenly woken up from his sleep, he sat up, looking around confused. “What are you doing sleeping on the floor?” You sat back down on your bed, pulling the blankets over you. “Is there a problem with me sleeping on the floor?” Ford asks, looking at you with squinted eyes. “No, no.” You laid back down on your bed. “Go back to sleep. I’m better now,” You say, somewhat amused with Ford sleeping on the floor beside your bed. “Goodnight, I love you.” You brush your fingers playfully across his face to annoy him. He shoves your fingers away from his face, huffing out. “Goodnight,” He shuffles to his side, looking up to you with a small smile. “I love you more, kiddo.”
925 notes · View notes
phoebejaysims · 4 months ago
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Boutique Mod - DOWNLOAD
Inspired by the sims 2 shopping for clothes system, I present a sims 3 take on buying clothes, accessories and running a thriving boutique! Set up shifts, keep the racks stocked, and you might find yourself in profit!
Required:
Ambitions
NRAAS Master Controller + Integration Module
Optional:
ITF if you want to use the clothes mannequin and some visual effects.
Late Night if you want the animations for the security guard.
Seasons for extra interactions on the mannequin.
Savvy Seller Set for some visual and audio effects.
Full Documentation is included in the download. I spent a while writing it out, so please read thoroughly!
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How Stores Work:
Set up a shift
Hire Employees (bosses count as employees so stores are fully functional with only one sim!)
Link at least one rack to the register
Open for business!
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Employees:
Store employees can be given three types of roles: register attendant, sales attendant and security guard.
Employees will do their jobs automatically but you can always manually tell them to do things too like: restocking, dressing up mannequins, helping customers, among other things.
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Customers:
Inactive and active sims can browse through the racks and have the ability to purchase items. They'll interact differently depending on if they are shopping at a clothes rack, accessory rack, or at a mannequin.
Inactives won't purchase outfits from mannequins unless you direct them to (or you enable auto-purchasing in the XML). However, they may "fake" buy clothes.
Once finished shopping, customers hold their bags and wait to be rung up! Take too long and they may abandon their purchase.
Shopping:
Adjust prices and restrict customers by age and gender to customise your store!
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Clothes Racks:
Buy Clothes for your own sim, sims in your household, or (if you're an employee) suggest clothes for customers.
Employees that suggest clothes for customers can fulfil Ambition Stylist jobs this way.
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Accessories Racks:
Choose accessories to be sold by adding them to the XML in the package file. The XML comes loaded with a few base game items already plus a couple modded items (Arsil's Sunglasses and lipstick - that won't be loaded unless you have them installed).
Sell buy-mode items as well as CAS items!
Make your CAS items wearable from your sim's inventory using your own meshes or my dummy accessory (see Documentation and XML for details).
Blacklist certain categories from being shown. If you want a dedicated shoe shop or an opticians, you can have it!
Try on products before buying them to see if they suit your sim. If there's a mirror in the room, they'll check themselves out in it.
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Clothing Mannequin:
Try on the mannequin outfits to see if they suit your sim.
Plan different outfits to display and even set them to be rotated through seasonally.
Let your employees be creative and choose a random outfit for the mannequin to wear.
Buy clothes for your own sim, household members, or customers.
Allow or disallow inactives from automatically purchasing display outfits.
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Security Gates:
Give your security guards something to stand and look threatening by.
You can try your luck at stealing from the shop. If you're caught, you'll have to pay up. If you get past the gates (or if there are no gates), enjoy your bounty!
Boutique Door:
Cloned from the Savvy Seller doors without the annoying 'kick-every-last-person-out-the-building-come-closing-time' feature.
Link this to a register and let the open and close sign automatically flip itself. Also, close the store or rename it, straight from the door.
Phone Interactions:
Ask for time off work (paid or unpaid).
Call in sick.
Cancel vacation days.
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Credits and Thanks:
@dhalsims for adding geostates to the ITF rack for me. Modders, I really recommend her if you need any 3D models made also!
DouglasVeiga for the BG rack with the geostates.
@aroundthesims for allowing me to use her objects in my mod as always!
Sims 4 for all the animations that I converted.
Simstate & merchant mods for the idea to go into a mode to link racks to the register.
The OG shop for clothes mod and pedestal by @anitmb.
Arsil and @zoeoe-sims for wearable CAS items idea that I adapted.
Ani's Candle mod & Amb. Makeover XML which I looked at for inspo on how to do accessory rack xml.
Compatibility:
All new objects so shouldn't conflict with anything really.
Removes the 'plan outfit' interaction from dressers.
Made on version 1.67.
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If you would like to donate as thanks, please feel free to do so at: my kofi! I don't take your generosity for granted!
Download: - Simblr.cc - 2t3 Boutique Mod Suggested Extra CC: - Lyralei's TS2 Conversions (incl. clothes changing booth) - More ATS3 Security Gates - ATS3 Friperie Set
Known issues, prop information and the full feature breakdown are all in the documentation.
Please be patient with me if there are bugs to fix. Also, anyone who DMs me "I don't know how to create a new shift" will be immediately fined £150.
With that said, please enjoy the mod and tag me in your beautiful boutiques,
Phoebe :)
679 notes · View notes
cumikering · 8 months ago
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Neighbour Ghost x reader
2.6k | fluff, mentions of physical abuse If Simon still had his family (part 2)
Simon Riley just got back to the safe house when he saw it.
Tommy Riley, 2 hours ago, 5 missed calls
It’s mum. Call back.         
His heart thumped as the phone rang. “Mum?” he said as soon as the line connected. ”Are you alright? Did something happen?”
“Oh, Simon…” her voice cracked.
His dad had always been an alcoholic ever since he could remember. He and his younger brother Tommy grew up witnessing his antics: stumbling through the door with slurred shouts in the wee hours of the night, often breaking things in the house, taunting them with the exotic animals he brought on occasions, if he even came home at all.
Mrs. Riley turned the other cheek, making excuses for him. As a child, Simon believed her, that people were short sometimes. Because daddy was tired at work, because mummy didn’t cook dinner right, or forgot to buy his favourite beer… Until he grew up and saw the behaviour as what it was.
But she never left, reassuring him his dad would never lay a hand on her. Simon didn’t trust that bastard of a man, but it was her choice to stay and he could only respect that. It was not his decision to make.
At least if he couldn’t bring her the happiness she deserved, he had to do something to distract himself from the hell at home and divert his aggression. That, and he wanted to help make the world a better place. When he left for the military, he firmly warned Tommy to take care of mum and to be there for her if anything was to happen.
Still, Simon spent his adult life painstakingly watching, waiting for the man’s first misstep so he could eliminate that cancer out of everyone’s life once and for all. The day was finally here. His dad had chased his mum about the house with a knife.
“I- I’ve got nothing but the clothes on my back. I walked barefoot to Tommy’s,” she said between sobs.
“How long has this-“ He stopped himself. It was not the time. He took a deep breath, his hand in a fist, knuckles white. “You’re catching the next train to Hereford,” he growled through gritted teeth. “You’ll stay at my flat until I’m back and we’ll figure things out. Someone from the base will call and help you out.”
“I don’t want to be a bother, Si. I just… I don’t know what to do.”
“You’re never a bother,” he said sternly. “I only go back home on the weekends, just stay there. I need you to be safe, mum. Please.”
In Hereford, on a chilly Tuesday night as you made your way down the hall to your flat, there stood a lady fumbling with the key to her own. On the floor laid bags overflowing with fresh produce. She turned as your footsteps approached.
“Hiya, sweetheart. Terribly sorry, but could you give me a hand please? I can’t seem to get the door.” She was middle aged, greying short hair, soft spoken with a Manchester accent.
 “’Course.” You smiled at her as she moved aside. “Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” The key only turned halfway before stopping.
“I just got here some days ago.”
You grunted before turning it all the way. “There you go.” You pushed the door open.
“Oh, you’re an angel, luv.“ She thrusted a bag of apples towards you. “It’s not much, but here. Please have these as a thanks.”
“That won’t be necessary, ma’am. It’s nothing really.”
“Please, I insist.” She put her hand on yours. “And it’s Melanie.”
You smiled. “Welcome to the building, Melanie. I’m at the end of the hall if you need me.”
You spent Saturday morning baking, courtesy of Melanie’s delicious gift. Even that you devoured the apples throughout the days, you didn’t want to risk the rest going bad on you – you could only eat so much. As you let the pie cool, you cleaned up before making your way to her flat.
It didn’t take long for the door to open. Your smile fell as you blinked at the man staring down at you. His stature huge, almost filling the doorframe as he stood unmoving.
You cowered, eyes darting away. “Hi, uh, is Melanie in?”
“Melanie?” he repeated, voice gruff and cautious. He leaned his forearm against the frame, appearing even more intimidating than the situation needed him to be. “What does this concern?”
You took a step back. “Just… wanted to give this to her.” You held out the pie towards him.
“Who is it, Si?” a woman from behind him called.
The man stepped aside to reveal the much shorter Melanie.
Her face lit up. “Oh, hello, luv. What a surprise!”
“Thanks for the apples, Melanie. I made you this.” You trudged the pan towards her, shifting your weight.
“Come in, come in. This is my son, Simon.” She turned to the man, patting his arm. “She’s the bird who helped me with the door the other day.”
Still with the sharp stare, he gave you a curt nod before you followed Melanie in, placing the pie on the dining table.
“Lunch is almost ready. Would you care to stay, luv?” She made her way towards the stove and muttered, “I always cook too much.”
You smiled. “I’d love to, sure. It smells lovely.”
You helped set up the table as she finished up the soup and brought it out. Simon got himself a helping and sat across you with Melanie beside the both of you. The blond was a few years older than you, jaw lined with a light stubble, but those brown eyes. They were icy, calculating as he glared at you.
Even that the soup was tasty, you regretted saying yes to it as you ate under his scrutiny. Instead, you averted your gaze to take in the flat. The layout was similar to yours, but quality pieces furnished it instead. The large, dark couch in the corner of the living room looked particularly comfortable, behind it a tall shelf lined with books. It was sparsely decorated, and too tidy to be recently moved into without boxes about.
“Do you know if they’ve got a farmer’s market nearby, luv?”
“I don’t, sorry. I get by going to Tesco.” You gave her a soft laugh. “But I can help you ask around.”
She beamed. “That’d be very nice.”
“I do know a bakery a few blocks away with wonderful loaves though. I always buy there.”
While the both of you chatted about the area, Simon was wordless. In fact, he almost didn’t make a noise at all, but at least he’d stopped staring which allowed you to finally relax your back you didn’t realise had been tense. You thanked her again for lunch, and she promised to return the pie pan as soon as she could.
Later that evening, the knock on the door took you away from your laptop. You expected Melanie, but were instead greeted by Simon. Standing a respectable distance from the doorway, he didn’t look like he was trying to scare you this time even that his gaze was as stony.
“Thanks for the pie. Was mint.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at his flat tone, taking the pan from him. “I’m glad you liked it.”
He grunted, averting his gaze. “I wanted to thank you, for how nice you’ve been to my mum.” He looked back up at you. “She’s having a bit of a hard time adjusting.”
Your shoulders relaxed. “I understand. It’s not always easy going somewhere new.”
“If you ever need anything, feel free to drop by.” He gave you a half smile before turning away.
The blond Mancunian was the last person you expected at your door on Wednesday night. You’d just taken your coat off as you arrived back from work.
“I got greedy and bought too much takeaway. Would you like to join us for dinner?”
You laughed. “Really? Too much food?”
“I’m not fond of leftovers.” He shrugged, inadvertently emphasising his size.
“Well, I haven’t had dinner yet.”
“Mon’ then.” He tiled his head towards his flat, his hands now shoved in the pockets of his black hoodie.
“Glad you could join us, luv.” Melanie smiled as she set the table.
“Hard to resist takeaway.” You chuckled as you approached. Takeaway boxes almost covered the entirety of the table. “Wow, this is a whole spread.”
“I said the same thing!”
“What can I say, I’m a hungry man,” he said gruffly behind you.
You turned to him in amusement. He gave you a shrug, but this time his eyes didn’t look as hard. In fact, you thought you saw a whisper of a smile on his lips.
Later that Saturday as you lounged around on the couch, you looked up from your book at the knock on the door. It was once again Simon in his hoodie, his posture impressive as always.
“My mum told me to run to the shops because we’re out of salt. Any chance you’ve got some to spare so I don’t have to?”
“Salt? Of course.” You headed to the kitchen, leaving the door open.
His fingertips brushed against yours as you handed him the ceramic container.
“She’s cooking pasta. Fancy some?” He tilted his head towards his flat.
“I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?” He raised an eyebrow.
You gave him an amused smile. “I’m starting to feel like a freeloader.”
“It’s the least we can offer in return of the salt.”
“It’s just salt.”
“We wouldn’t be eating without your salt, if I’m honest.”
The smile remained as you shook your head.
“Come, she’s waiting.”
At the stove, Melanie thanked you for the ‘life-saving’ salt when you should be the one thanking her for her hospitality. By now, you knew where the tableware was and started setting the table, but this time Simon trailed, grabbing glasses and closing the cabinet doors after you.
“It’s brilliant, really,” you said after the first bite of the tomato pasta. “You’re feeding me too well.”  
She smiled proudly. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I’m not a culinary prodigy at all, but please let me return the favour and make the meal next time.”
“Don’t wor-“
“When?” Simon piped up.
“Next weekend sounds good?”
“Can’t do.”
You hummed. “Well, I won’t have enough time to cook anything fancy on weekdays.”
Melanie swatted her hand. “Oh, you really don’t have to, luv.”
“But there’s still tomorrow. How does lunch sound? I’ll do the shopping today.”
“I’ll drive. Need to pick up a few things too.”
You smiled at him and turned to Melanie. “You want to come with?”
She shook her head. “You kids have fun.”
Simon cleaned up while you got ready before leaving in his SUV. In the sun, his eyes were gorgeous glimmers of deep caramel framed by long, blond lashes. He’d pushed his hoodie sleeves up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms – the left one inked.
It flexed as his hand rested atop the steering wheel at the red light. You could see the details from here – skulls and rifles over fire adorned his pale skin. You wondered how far up the monochrome sleeve extended.
He still hadn’t said anything since he picked you up at your door. At this point, you couldn’t tell if he was awkward or simply didn’t like to talk. You tried your luck anyway.
“How do you find the building so far?”
“No complaints. Been there over a year.”
“Really? I don’t think I’d seen you before actually.”
“I don’t really live there. Just on the weekends, if any.”
“Didn’t Melanie say she just got here weeks ago?”
“She’s visiting.” He turned to you. “I meant it when I said she likes your company.”
You smiled. “She’s real sweet. I hope she enjoys her stay.”
When you arrived, he beat you to the basket at the entrance.
“I’ll get it. On you, luv.”
You got called ‘luv’ all the time, but the way he said it made you look away. You couldn’t ignore the tickle that ran down your spine.
On the way to the produce section, the offer sign caught your eye as you passed the biscuit aisle. You reached for the goldfish crackers you hadn’t had in a while.
“Two goldfish are in a tank…” he started behind you.
You turned to him, a brow raised.
“One looks at the other and says ‘You know how to drive this thing?’”
Nothing prepared you for a joke from him, the brooding man in oversized hoodies who barely spoke. You cackled embarrassingly loud in the empty aisle. It was your first time seeing him actually smile. He had pretty teeth, and his eyes finally thawed, crinkles by them.
“That’s a good one,” you said after your laughter died down, chucking a bag into the basket.
The ghost of a smile remained on his lips as he looked ahead. You took it as a cue to move along. He stood behind you as you moved about and picked ingredients, telling you the reason he couldn’t do next weekend was because he was in the military and would be gone on a mission. You didn’t know it, but his gaze lingered on you the whole time.
Before long, you were ready to check out, grabbing a box of English Breakfast tea on your way there. In the queue, Simon stood a touch closer behind you than he needed to, his arm splayed on the railing next to you. You didn’t make a move against it. Instead you tried to make out the rest of his tattoo, but the way his veins budged under the ink from holding the basket distracted you.
It occurred to you people had joined the line when you heard giggles behind the wall of Simon. You couldn’t help tuning into the rather loud conversation. One of the girls was dared to skydive after losing a round of beer pong, and the instructor was “so fucking hot summer came back to Birmingham”. She very much looked forward to their date the following week.
You bit back a smile. You were oddly proud of the stranger. You go, girl.
Simon tapped your shoulder and leaned into your ear. “Why don’t blind guys skydive?”
You only managed to turn a fraction before coming face to face with him. Your breath hitched, not expecting the proximity.
“Because it scares the shit out of their dogs.”
Your laughter boomed before you slapped a hand over your mouth and turning to him fully. His warm eyes returned with his smile, looking absolutely pleased with himself.
The eye contact remained a touch longer, only broken by the cashier calling for the next customer. You whipped towards the lady, gaze cast down as Simon hoisted the basket onto the counter.
He didn’t give you a chance to pay as he already had his phone ready at the receiver, shrugging off your protests. You didn’t mention the fact that he didn’t even pick up anything for himself.
It wasn’t a lot, but Simon carried all the shopping up to your flat. You gathered the bags from him after you opened the door.
You pulled a box of salt from one of them. “Here’s for your mum.”
He quickly took it and looked away.
“Thanks again for the ride. See you tomorrow, yeah?”
He nodded, but stood unmoving. His boots only thudded away when you’ve locked the door.
Masterlist
@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats
1K notes · View notes
darnell-la · 2 months ago
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Can you guys please do another fic about Logan and the bartender I’m so hooked on your page🫶🏾
pairing: sub soon dom!logan howlett x bartender!reader
warnings: heavy drinking, attachment issues, heavily drink, lots of begging, oral (fem receiving), face riding while standing up, orgasm, overstimulation, dominance, submission, scratching, choking, rough fuck, cream pie, baby trapping, etc.
note: Logan feels like he needs to be more of a man. he’ll get to that after he submits to his pretty girl.
———
Logan and y/n have been in a talking stage for a month now. The man would come to her work every day, bringing lunch and sitting in the building until she clocked out, and then they’d make their way over to the bar across the street.
Getting y/n drunk was something Logan loved seeing. She was so wild, loose, and beautiful. She got along well with Wade, and of course with Vanessa.
Logan thought that maybe he’d pick up his dominance by getting her so wasted, that he could do whatever he wanted to her, letting her know he was the one in charge, and not her.
Even though he loved the way she ducked him dry that night, he felt like he had to be more of a man. He grew up in different generations where being a man was something that he needed to be.
Every single time Wade brought y/n back him, he failed. She was so damn convincing when she begged to ride him or suck him until he saw stars.
At first, he thought he won the dominance title because she’d be the one on her knees submitting to him, but by the end of the night, he was the own squirming around and begging for more or for her to take it easy on him — “please,”.
Tonight’s another night where Logan took the girl home. She’s drunk, but not as drunk as he wanted her to be. Instead, he was the one who drank too much.
“Why won’t you let me move in?” Logan whined as he leaned back on her apartment door, closing it behind him. Y/n giggled as she bent over to take her shoes off, then his.
“You’re the one that said you didn’t want to move in too early. Said you wanted to make more money and move us out somewhere away from people,” y/n reminded the man, but he wasn’t fully thinking right either way.
“Well, that’s stupid! I-I can take the TVA money and escape from this place. With you,” the man said as y/n helped him to her room, which is basically his room as well since he’s stayed over almost every night since they met.
“I told you not to use your hero money on me, babe. They gave that to you to save and spend for yourself,” Y/n reminded him about that as well.
“B-But, I am doing this for me. Wanting you around me all day is way better without seeing you work behind the counter while I’m just fucking- fucking declining Amazon orders like some robot!”
Y/n had gotten Logan a job. An online job since he whined about wanting to be around he more. All the man had to do was decline the few hundred orders that came through every week, but that was too much for him.
The man talked to her about moving out to the country where he could chop wood for a living, and she could watch him do so while drinking coffee or tea.
Y/n felt off about that idea because Logan was a superhero. An old one at that, and he didn’t need to be working, right? Sometimes she doesn’t consider his strength, but at the end of the day, she feels like she should be the one working.
“Baby, let’s just take this slow, okay? You haven’t even gotten your second paycheck — They pay you monthly and you got a good check a few days ago, right?” Y/n asked the man as he finally sat down on her bed where she put him.
“Yes,” he pouted, not wanting to argue about that money he received. He spent a lot of it on y/n already. Buying her new clothes, shoes, cooking objects, and more. He loved her cooking.
“Alright then,” y/n smiled at the man with a shake of her head. He always worried, but he didn’t have to. Y/n felt good where she was at, but Logan had been planning with Wade already.
Wade didn’t see a such thing in a talking stage between them in the first place, so when Logan came to him, planning to move forty-five minutes out to a nice new cabin and getting that wood-cutting job, Wade was all the way in.
“Using all that money to impress a girl you just met — Sounds like a damn good plan, peanuts,” was all Wade could say. He loved this for Logan, and if he had to bully and make y/n feel bad for not accepting it, he would.
“Let’s get you undressed, baby. We’ll shower tomorrow since I have to change the sheets anyway,” y/n spoke in her soft and sweet voice as she undressed the huge man.
He was a big baby, and he’d always think about that. Even now, he couldn’t help it. He loved being taken care of like this. Having a job and providing a cabin is something he had to do eventually, but letting y/n baby him, was something he could deal with.
“Are you gonna undress too?” The man asked, eyes barely being able to stay open a focused on hers. His hands reached up and tugged on the girl's shirt, wanting to help her just like she helped him.
“Yes, I am,” y/n silently laughed at the man and helped him get her undressed. “So pretty, y/n,” Logan said as soon as y/n’s bra came off. The man grabbed her breasts softly, moving them around as she took her shorts and panties off.
“Logan, not tonight. I’ve gotta work,” y/n spoke as his hands traveled the girl's body and his lips attached to a nipple. “Logan,” y/n rolled her eyes but soon gasped at the instant pleasurable feeling.
“Please, just a little,” the man looked up at her, sucking on her toy with need. “Logan, I’m so tired, and you’re too drunk,” Y/n spoke to him like he didn’t understand, but he did. His reaction was just a bit slow.
“Please, y/n — Please,” the man begged with a low growl, fingers digging into her waist. Y/n stood there for a while, looking down at the man who continued sucking, and leaving love marks.
“Fine, but only for a little,” y/n said, thinking of what he could do for her to make her stay up longer than she wished. “Get on your knees, baby,” y/n said as she stepped back.
Logan looked at the woman, confused and a bit sad his mouth wasn’t on her skin anymore. “C‘mon, we ain’t got all night,” y/n said. Logan did as told and got on his knees without thinking.
“S-Sorry,” he said, cussing himself out that he didn’t listen the first time. His girl asked him something, and he just looked at her like a deer in headlights. So fuckin’ stupid.
“Want you to make me cum,” y/n said after she spread her legs right in front of his face. The man looked up at the young lady, eyes traveling from her eyes all the way down to her cunt.
The man slightly whined as he leaned in, not taking another second to dive into her cunt. He instantly began slurping, taking in the wetness she had been hiding tonight.
“Ah- That’s it,” Y/n said, tangling her hands in his hair and then pulling him closer, now rubbing his mouth in the right places. “Mhm hm?” Logan asked muffled, wanting to make sure he was doing good for her.
“Oh, yes, baby — Always eat me so well,” y/n looked down at the older man, locking eyes with him as he kept sucking in the right spot.
You would think y/n would be the one rolling her eyes, but the one doing the rolling was Logan. After making eye contact with the pretty lady, he couldn’t help himself.
His mind was foggy, and he felt like he was drunk. Almost like he was pussy drunk, but there’s no way, right? Fuck it — There definitely was a way. He’s always this drunk for her. He needs her.
“So hot under me — Might take a picture and keep it in my wallet,” y/n said, making the man groan into her heat. Y/n’s knees bucked, instantly making her feel her cunt pulse.
“S-So close, baby — So close,” y/n gave a heads up, only making the man groan more into her cunt. He was going to cum himself. He knew he’d feel embarrassed about it right after, but right now, he needed it.
“S-Shit,” y/n’s legs almost gave out, but luckily Logan wrapped his arms around her, keeping her up and pinned onto his face. “Fuck, Logan, fuck!” the girl tugged on his hair before right as she released on his face.
The man slightly pulled away, making sure her juice would leak right out of her and into his mouth as much as it could.
Y/n’s clit throbbed hard, feeling amazing like any other night as Logan’s vision blurred, cock twitched, and in seconds, he came.
The older man buried his face into the girl's heat, muffling his own moans as he shook from the hard orgasm he didn’t know he could experience.
Y/n cried out, trying to pull the man off, but he was too lost in his own high. “L-Logan!” Y/n cried out with a crack as an aftershock hit her. Her cunt throbbed harder than usual, making her eyes cross in a way that she’s never done before.
The loud moan she let out only made Logan feel the need to do more, so he did.
The man pulled away from the girl and threw her on the bed after he stood to his feet. “L-Logan, fuck,” Y/n said, trying to catch her breath, but it didn’t take long for the man to hover over her.
“Need to fill you,” the man said, now crawling in between her legs. “No, Logan — I-I can’t anymore,” the young lady shook her head as she leaned her head back, trying to rest.
“Well, I can,” the man said before plunging into her, giving her no warning. Y/n’s loud moan filled the room as he groaned in her neck, thrusting his hips at an ungodly paste. He needed to fill her.
“L-Lo!” Y/n cried, overstimulated, but the man couldn’t think straight. He felt so fucking good, and he knew she did too.
Logan’s breathing sounded deep. Deep and animalistic as his hands grabbed the young lady's thighs on the side, scratching upwards until he heard a pleasure cry escape her mouth.
“So fucking good, baby. Need this every fucking day. No breaks!” The man said, one hand now digging into her waist as the other gripped her neck. He finally had her where he wanted.
“So fuckin’ dumb to let yourself be like this. All drunk and overstimulated. It’s my turn to dominate, baby. Mine!” Logan gripped the girl's neck, watching her jaw slack and eyes roll back.
“Gonna buy that fucking land and take that damn job. You’re gonna sit your pretty ass at him or in my truck and watch me. No more working. No more being away from me. You’re fuckin’ mine,”
Y/n wanted to say yes to everything he mentioned, feeling like she had no choice, and she didn’t. He wanted this, so she had to give it to him. She had to and needed to.
“That’s it, baby — Cum,” Logan’s voice echoed through the girl's head as her walls clenched onto him. “Fuckin’ cum,” the man spat, looking down at her as his hips snapped forward. She swears he’s about to break her.
“C-Can’t anymore,” the young girl cried, but who cared? Not him. What he said, goes. This side of being drunk felt good. The horniness after being on his knees for her, was a boost before his cock begged to feel her walls. He needed the second climax to be in her.
“L-Logan — You don’t have a condom-“ y/n tried saying, but her orgasm stopped her. The young girl cried and whined loudly, her voice sounding crackly as she came all over his cock.
Y/n was the one who suggested a condom. She didn't want the man to regret anything. Logan told her for months that he regretted nothing and never will. Night, he'll prove that to her.
“Gonna fill you up, baby — Make you unemployed,” the man threatened, but it didn’t sound too much like a threat to y/n. She wanted it, rather she was drunk on his cock or completely sober through the day.
“Fuck, yes!” The man growled through his teeth, feeling himself get closer with every thrust. “Tell me to cum in you, baby — Tell me!” The mutant man demanded the warn-out human.
“C-Cum,” y/n tried saying as her head moved side to side slowly, trying to gain her vision back, but everything was spinning. “More — More!” He demanded again. “C-Cum in m-me,” she finally got out.
Logan groaned loudly, cock pushing deep inside of the woman as his grip on her waist and neck tightened. She swore she could feel him actually filling her up until she couldn’t take anymore.
“Fuck!” He shouted, slowly pulling out and looking down. His cock was coated with so much of him and her, and she leaked so much of her and him. This was perfect. She was perfect, and now she was staying with him forever.
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wonryllis · 9 months ago
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𝜗𝜚 'OH' I LOVE LOVE HER?
╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗎𝗇.
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𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen realizing it's you 𖥔 ݁ rom-fluff, kinda poetic? LIB? fem!reader requested word count ` 1945
꒰˵ˊᯅˋ˵꒱ love how this turned out!! <3. unedited!
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆
he doesn't know much about love, he's never really experienced it yet. he has fallen for conventional and unconventional things, things that compliment and things that complete, he's been through the good phases and stuck through bad ones, he held on to things he shouldn't and let go of things he should.
there are a lot of lessons he has learned along every relationship he has been in the lines of yet lee heeseung doesn't believe he's ever been in love until he has been with you.
it wasn't something he knew he felt, but it was surely something he realized in the spur of a moment, in a split second of epiphany. he knew what he felt for you was something deep when he realized that yes he wouldn't hesitate to die for you, but what he wants is to live for you. it's easy to be the first to go but to hold your strength through everything and survive for someone, that is definitely love is what heeseung believes.
"baby, baby calm down i'm okay," he reassures your crying and frantic figure as you scan his injuries, ones he got from trying to protect you from a fatal fall. perhaps it was the situation or perhaps it was realisation of it all.
when he jumped to saved you all he could think about was he'd give his life if it meant you lived, but in this moment he cannot bear to see you so devastated, to think he could've left you like this? no, he's decided he is never going to do it until he can't help it and even then he'd fight to stay with his love.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆
he has lived his life prioritizing his family over everything else. to him nothing can go above and beyond familial love. he doesn't really believe he can love anyone anything like he loves his family and that is a statement of disappointed in itself. if there's anything he wants to give his best for it's people who have stuck with him since day one.
bonds need to tested by time is the belief he holds dear until his world crashes into yours and time changes from something that defines to something that builds. his relationship with yours is not as long as people he's close to but however long you have spent together seems to strengthen and augment the bond.
his love for you settles into an understanding of his when finds you running through days and nights in the hospital caring for his family after a big blow. a choice to choose, not an obligation to carry out. a crack in his notions you give him a new definition of love.
"y/n? baby come on go and freshen up, i'll watch over mom," his hand rests on your head, soft caresses to wake you up after the long night you spent sitting beside his mother while he ran around for paperwork.
as you leave the room in a rush wanting to come back quickly and take his place so that he can get his rest, jay finds himself seeing you in a new light, telling his mother that he's found an angel. the angel she always told him about, the angel he loves.
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍
he has spent years jumping from person to person, reveled and basked in moments of happiness and run away amidst the weights of problems. there is a price to pay for everything and love is no exception but he has yet to accept the fact of reality, the thorns that come along with the scent and beauty of roses.
love gives and love takes, love heals and love hurts. it takes several trials and a meeting with you for jake to understand that.
to him it is a conscious decision, a hard hit and an opening of eyes when he realizes you're the one for him. he has never made it work until you, coming to the conclusion in the middle of the worst argument that you're worth all the trouble. and if wants to have you by his side, he needs to fix this and he needs to cherish you.
he can see himself with you for the rest of his life, one single person he is willing to fight for. for jake sim you are a sphere of acceptance, you redefine love and endurance for him.
"one day we're gonna have kids together and i want them to see that daddy really loves mommy, i'll change for the better i promise," jake's voice softens as he hits the big realization, getting down on his knees, tears falling free. your arms slip around him in a hug and jake swears he'll do all it takes to become the one for you, he'll do all it takes to make this worth it, he'll do all it takes to have you stay. because he's found the one he loves, the one he wants to be his best for.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍
he has always felt a gaping hole in his chest, a feeling of homesickness even when he is home, a feeling of vanity even when he shines bright soaring through all the achievement of his dreams. to him there's something that's always missing.
no he has never thought of love but he has never despised it either. he doesn't dwell on the possibilities of it but the absence and lack of them. until you enter his life completing him like a perfect piece of puzzle, a missing piece of him.
he realizes his love for you in bits and moments of warmth, slowly step by step as you fill the void. from helping him through his hard times and cheering him on in his good ones, sunghoon finds his home in you, a walk so long but finally arriving at it's destiny, where it's always been meant to be.
perhaps he's always longed for love and never understood it. nevertheless, park sunghoon finds it in his moments of mundanity with you. you teach him the power of the presence of love.
"my little charmie, loved your pretty banner," sunghoon leaves a wet kiss on your lips, arms going around your waist as he comes rushing to you a second after winning the championship, cameras all panned on the champion of the season but all he can see is you. you feel like a warm hug on a rainy day, a blanket of comfort near the fireplace. all the anxiety he ever felt, the pressure to be on the top, you took it all and turned it into something beautiful and enjoyable.
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎
he has grown up surrounded and so bathed in love, he thinks he knows it all, he has seen it all. every version of love, and everything that exists in between. so confident he'd know it instantly, the one for him, the love of his life.
but love takes time and love find it's loopholes. someone that evokes no romantic feelings could become everything in just a turn of events. kim sunoo never believed or cared to understand that until he felt that something for you. that little upturn of sparkles and butterflies, that intense emotion kindling in his heart when he sees you in a new ambience. a single moment of revelation when he's staring at you talk about things that you love, things that he doesn't like but suddenly he doesn't mind hearing about it.
he knows he hasn't felt this way before for you, there's something different and that difference makes him rethink his entire relationship with you. you become so important to him in a split moment, love so familiar and calm yet unfamiliar and exciting.
"go on i'm listening," sunoo has his head on his hands, eyes shaped crescents, a gaze so loving anyone can see how he feels, so transparent.
the tiny flowers behind you would look so pretty on you, no- you look so much prettier than the flowers, your voice is so pretty, the way your lips move, the way your eyes light up, has sunoo always loved hearing about legos? no. has he always loved listening to you? he doesn't know but he could hear you talk forever.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍
he is one who sees love in everything around. the little things and the big things. in the light and in the dark. in memories of the past and in possibilities of the future. there is not a specific instance where he realizes his feelings. to him you are the premonition of love. he knew it from the very moment he met you that you are the one he is going fall in love with. that inner instinct that instantly sparked up when you entered his life.
every day and every second it grows, it piles up, it escalates. the weight of life and the wings of love you make everything easier. one who has always given meeting one who gives back to him.
overwhelmed in an ocean of new eternal verities, a feeling so mad, blind and passionate he finds himself wanting to be bound to you by his every bone. if there's a forever then he wants to spend it with you taking walks by the river, watching the lantern festival with a smile on your faces, so sick in love it makes everyone else sick.
"i wish this wish comes true," jungwon whispers to himself as he watches you walk ahead of him, turning back time and again to tell him how far your lit lantern made with a pretty little smile on your face. he wants to see this everyday, every morning, every night till however long he can and if possible even in his afterlife and all the lives that come ahead.
to be the one to be chosen by you because he for one will always choose you in all forms of reality and at every chance,"baby wait up for me, let's go together!" hand in hand all along.
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈
he has always found himself struggling to express his emotions, words and actions alike. something so inherent in him, he can't seem to overcome it. the sheer desperation to get his feelings through to someone, he's never felt it. he hasn't ever felt the need to feel it. to connect so closely with another is not something he has ever been comfortable with or wanted to be comfortable with.
until you happened and riki's world went through a turmoil of sentiments, wrecking him from inside so intensely he could never go back to before. love is something he has never experienced and something he could never fathom.
it just never made sense to him, how one could feel so much solely for another. but in moments of his silence where you struggled to understand it all, he realized the importance, the willingness to learn to express his feelings.
your tears and your smiles he wanted to be the one to comfort and the one you showed your happiness to. the one you love and the one he loves.
"i've never said this before but you are so special to me, what i feel for you is something i've never felt for anyone else and i don't wanna lose you by not letting you know that. i'm wanna learn to show you that again and again,"
riki smiles through his tears letting himself be vulnerable before you, as you hold the little handmade gift he got. your own tears threatening to fall while you nod vigorously reaching forward to let him know it'll all be okay.
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TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @nanabbg @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly
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01zfan · 9 months ago
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rainy day | l. at
ex!anton x reader | 5.8k words
anton brainrot is literally so real you guys im a victim.
contains: breaking up, resolution, oral (fem. receiving), missionary, soft dom anton if you squint, reader is a pillow princess (good for her)
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it was one of the few days during summer where everyone stayed inside. the usual cool breeze that came with the season was replaced with harsh winds that could knock anyone over. the clear sky was replaced with clouds and soon a rain that threatened to flood your city would come. 
you loved when it rained. the inclement weather gave you an excuse to stay home and lay in bed all day. you wanted to use this day to recharge—your social battery had been running dangerously low since summer had started. you don’t know if it was because of your recent breakup and everyone taking pity on you but suddenly everyone had plans once it got warmer outside. it didn’t help that your roommate was a dj. giselle spent more time outside than in the apartment, various clubs being her place of work. and being giselle’s roommate came with its perks, you automatically getting to skip the lines to get in because you “know somebody”. you made it your personal mission to exercise this benefit almost every night.
being outside took your mind off the breakup. you couldn’t hear anton’s voice when music blasted in your ears or think about him when you were dancing around. you loved being out, but it started weighing heavy on your bones. between work and seeing your friends, you had been out almost everyday for the past month. you were grateful when you saw that a big storm was coming, like the weather gods wanted you to have a day off. 
you don’t remember the last time you were able to lay in bed past 10AM. you wanted to thank the rain that pelted your window and the wind that made your apartment building creak. because of it you got to be underneath the comfort of your sheets. giselle must’ve felt the same way, because this was the first time you had seen her in pajamas relaxing on the couch. you found her laying on the couch in the living room when you went to the kitchen to get some food.
“any plans for today?” you asked giselle sarcastically.
giselle laughed and looked from the television to you.
“probably gonna work on some mixes for upcoming sets.” giselle says. 
she turns back on her show and the sound of the television fills the room. you hum in acknowledgment as you open the fridge. you grab some leftovers to put in the microwave. after getting your food you head towards the couch and giselle lets her legs rest on the coffee table so you can sit down.
“grateful for a day off.” you sigh contently.
“oh i bet. you’re like a little party animal now.” giselle laughed.
you sat with giselle for a little bit before retiring back to your bed. giselle did the same as you about half an hour later. you could hear the television in the living room shut off followed by the sound of your roommate closing her door. soon after you could hear the low sound of music coming from giselle’s room as she went through several tracks.
you let yourself relax in bed as rain continued to fall. it came down sideways and in sheets, and you knew it would only be getting worse for the rest of the day. 
as you looked outside at the rain, it was hard to not start thinking about anton. when your mind got the chance to slow down, you couldn’t stop it from thinking about him. he loved when it rained too, and loved napping the day away with you too. you had stopped crying about the breakup a long time ago; you knew that first loves were meant to fail. but if you thought about anton for too long or how warm he always felt you could feel a hole start to form in your chest. so you did your best to clear your thoughts and treated the weather outside and giselle’s music as white noise before drifting to sleep.
anton was in your dreams often. you thought it was always unfair how he occupied your mind so heavily he managed to infiltrate your subconscious and dreams. after the breakup it only got worse. sometimes you would dream about him curled up next to you, getting up from the bed just to come right back to you. he would always snuggle into you closely and pull you into his chest. you would dream about him being the little spoon, laughing at how your arms wrapped around his large frame. you would dream about him turning you around to make you the little spoon, bringing a warm hand to trace shapes over your stomach. the mind was an evil thing. there were times when you would wake up in the middle of the night thinking it was real, that anton had come back to you in the middle of the night. but the vacant space on your bed was still empty and cold when you opened your eyes.
although it was painful dreaming about anton when he was no longer in your life, you truthfully wouldn’t have it any other way. you loved dreaming about you two laying on beds of gold or in a meadow running around in the tall grass. the dreams were usually pure and shrouded in a deeper meaning that you couldn’t decipher. but sometimes the dreams were less innocent. this time when you dreamed about anton you dreamed of him above you and panting into your ear while his strong chest was pressed against yours. you could hear the faintest whisper of his voice in your ear and you could see his wet hair sticking to his forehead. you dreamed about anton’s hands holding your hips down and you leaving marks down his back while you took all of him, his dangling chain above your eyes. just as your lips were reaching towards his ear to say something your brain suddenly woke you up, making you shoot up in your bed. 
it felt like you woke up from a nightmare the way your body felt all clammy. your chest heaved and you shot a quick look to the empty side of your bed. moving so suddenly didn’t help either and you could feel a headache coming on as your eyes adjusted to the darkness in your room. 
after gaining some of your bearings you reached to your bedside table to check the time on your phone. it was eight in the evening. giselle hadn’t stopped mixing her songs, music still coming from her room. you sighed and stretched, not sure how you felt about sleeping the whole day away. 
following the aftershocks of your dreams, it was impossible to not think about anton. you regretfully think about him, if he is sleeping right now or if he dreams of you the same way you dream of him. he’s only a phone call or a twenty minute walk in the rain away. you decide against it, the thought of not getting a response scares you away from your phone.
you get out of bed and stretch your limbs again, you can’t deny that the rest was much needed. maybe you would watch something and eat until you got tired again. it would give you time to process your dream, maybe if you thought about it enough you could have another one like that again. 
as you round the corner of you room to go into the kitchen you stop dead in your tracks.
you know it’s anton before he turns around. after spending so much time with him, you could probably identify him from his hair, or his voice. you see one of the most obvious of anton’s traits—his broad back that is covered with one of your towels. even if something covers his back you can tell it’s him by muscle memory, something you’re sure will never leave you. but you also know it’s him because who else would be sitting at your kitchen island this late at night. you still can’t control the shock in your voice as you call out his name.
“anton?” you say.
he turns around quickly to face you and his eyes go wide. anton has always been so expressive, every emotion shows on his face in an instant. he gets up from his chair like a reflex but he says nothing, just looking at you from across the room.
“what are you doing here?” you ask. 
anton still looks at you without saying anything. it’s like your speech is delayed getting to anton, because it takes him almost five seconds before he swallows to answer your question. during the time it takes for him to speak you see a bouquet of the flowers you like laying on the kitchen island.
“i was riding my bike and i was coming to get the rest of my stuff but i got caught in the rain,” anton swallows again. “giselle let me in.”
anton points to your roommates closed door. it would makes sense that giselle would hear him, she must’ve stayed awake the whole day. music still plays in her room as you turn back to anton.
you are both met with more silence. you know that you should probably kick him out, or scold him for showing up at his ex girlfriends house unannounced. it’s hard to be mad at anton because he used to show up like this when you two were just friends, popping in just to hang out. and you do remember that you both promised the other that nothing would change if you two broke up. it was a lie then and you knew it. you wondered if anton knew it too. you could assume he did by the clenching knuckles at his side, or how he cleared his throat awkwardly.
“i tried to get home i really did but—” anton said.
now it was time for you to clear your throat and reach a hand out to him.
“no i prefer you stay here until the storm dies down.” you say.
you have to force yourself to remember that this isn’t a dream, that anton is real and standing in your kitchen. you want to be a good host and offer him food or ask him if he’s okay but all the words are caught in your throat. instead you gesture to the living room, showing anton it’s okay to step into your apartment further.
you’re sure that his ears tucked into his beanie turn red as he walks over you. he’s slow with his steps, like you’ll change your mind at any moment. you can still hear giselle music coming from her room as you go to sit on the couch.
when anton comes to the opposite end, his eyes find yours. he’s looking to you the whole time, waiting for you to give him the permission to be close to you. anton has always been too nice for his own good, letting you make all the moves and initiatives in the relationship. so he waits for you to nod at him before sitting down on the couch too.
you focus on the sound of rain and giselle’s house music as you look to anton. he looks the same except for his hair that has gotten a little longer. the necklace you got him for his birthday is still around his neck, rested on his chest. you tried not to look at the pendant too hard, because then your eyes would wander to the black shirt that clung to his chest. your mind flashes back to the dream you had of and you have to lightly shake your head to get rid of the image.
“how are things?” he ask you.
you hate that this is what your relationship with anton has come to. he used to be the person you were must comfortable around but now he sits on the opposite end of your couch asking you questions you both know the answer to.
“things are good.” you say. 
you think about telling him everything would be better if you guys got back together. you hold it back by picking at the hem of your shorts.
“what about you?” you ask. 
you can barely bring yourself to look at anton. you see that he isn’t looking at you either, his eyes focused on your hand that is holding the bottom of your pants. when you move your hand, his eyes stay there as he says nothing.
“i miss you.” anton says. “so much.”
you can feel the couch give underneath anton’s weight as he comes closer to you. the couch dips from you, almost causing your body to lean into anton’s. he bends down to be in your line of sight. you’re forced to look into his large brown eyes as he looks for something in your eyes.
“you miss me too, right?” anton says.
his hands reach for yours and you let him grab them. he squeezes his hands in your palms and you still have to remind yourself this isn’t a dream. anton continues to look at your face while massaging your hands. it keeps you there with him and you know he knows the answer to the question.
“we aren’t together anymore anton.” you whisper.
you know you should pull your hands away, maybe even tell him to leave your apartment. but you can’t bring yourself to do anything to him while he looks at you like that.
“that doesn’t matter. do you even remember why we broke up?” anton asks.
you shake your head; you truthfully can’t remember. you’re sure it was something stupid, something that easily could be fixed. you both were clumsy throughout the whole relationship, so confused why everything felt so different from when you were friends. maybe you two got tired of stumbling through the motions of everything and called it off. but the way anton looks at you makes you want to take everything back and make you try again.
“i want to try again.” anton says.
he shakes your hands slightly to really give emphasis to his words. maybe you keep dreaming about him because you should try again, maybe that’s what your subconscious has been telling you.
“i’ll have to think about it.” you say while nodding slightly.
anton responds to you by smiling. you can’t help but smile too, and you can feel tears that threaten to fall from all the emotions going through you. you can’t stop yourself from bringing anton in for a hug. he pauses only for a second before hugging you back twice as hard. you are happy you’re able to stop yourself from sobbing onto anton’s shirt, but you almost lose it when he rubs up and down your back gently. you go deeper into the crook of his neck and he holds you a little tighter.
“i came in the rain on my bike to be all romantic with flowers but you were knocked out.” anton says into your shoulder.
you start laughing loudly, the image of anton peddling on his dingy little bike through torrential rain. anton finds it funny too, he starts laughing as he goes into the details of him almost driving into a ditch while trying to get to you.
you know you’re both laughing too hard when you hear the music in giselle’s room shut off. you realize that she is basically at her job right now, and you and your ex ex-boyfriend are disturbing her. so you get up from the couch and motion for anton to follow you. he gets up from the couch and rubs his palms on the front of his pants. suddenly he’s the shy anton again, so different from the bold anton that told you he wants to get back together.
anton follows you into your room and you close the door behind him. you don’t move again until you hear giselle’s music turn back on.
you laid down on the bed first. anton stayed in front of your closed door, looking at the you laying on the bed. you can make out his figure even in the darkness of your room, broad and almost as tall as your doorframe. even in your dreams anton doesn’t look this good. you don’t beat away the image of him above with a stick this time, instead you welcome them with open arms as you tap the empty space on your bed.
you watch anton come over to the bed, stopping so he can take off his beanie and jewelry to set on your dresser. it’s just like old times, hearing the familiar sound of his rings landing on the ceramic dish. you wonder if he’ll take off his shirt too. he keeps it on as he lays on the opposite side of your bed.
he didn’t dare to move any closer to you, staying on the other end. you wish you could fold the covers and bring him closer to you, or have anton pull you into his chest like he always did when he spent the night. he was too nice to do move any further, and you realized that nothing would happen if you didn’t make a move first. so you swallowed whatever was holding you back and let your hand glide across the cold sheets towards anton. he turned towards you almost immediately and his hand grabbed your bicep.
anton first lightly tugged your body towards him twice. it was gentle and inviting like he always was. you scooted your body to anton’s, moving only a little across the sheets that separated you two. anton then exerted some of his strength o pull you the rest of the way, wrapping his other arm around your body to bring you into his chest. you laughed at how fast he pulled you across the covers as he tucked your head underneath his chin. he brought his hand that was on your arm to the back of your head—it had been too long since anton surrounded you like this. you nuzzled into his neck and sighed contently. 
“we should probably move slow” he said. you could hear the smile on his face.
you hummed in agreement but then moved closer into him. he wrapped his arms tighter around you before kissing your cheek. it was quick and light before anton tucked your head underneath his chin again. you weren’t shocked by the kiss, you were actually beaming at the feeling of his lips on your skin again.
you weren’t sure when you fell back asleep, but it was hard to not doze off with anton like a weighted blanket on you. you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours, and hear his quick heartbeat slow down overtime. it was an inexplicable comfort having him behind you and to feel his arms wrapped around your frame.
you didn’t wake up again until well after midnight. the rain still fell and the wind still blew harshly. you woke up in anton’s amrs, curled into his chest to be the little spoon. you had turned at some point during the night, and anton’s hand rested on your stomach to gently trace shapes on your exposed skin. you don’t know how it was possible to miss someone so much. 
you turned your body to face anton’s. you found that he was already awake, looking into your eyes with the same look you dreamed about. you closed your eyes as he placed a wet kiss on your cheek. his eyes are still bleary, you imagine he must have woken up around the same time you did. you brush some of his hair out of his face and let him leave a wet kiss on your lips.
“what time is it?” you ask.
“not sure. has to be pretty late though.” he says.
anton sounds distracted as he talks to you. his eyes are on your lips as he puts a hand behind your back so your body arches into him. you can feel how broad and solid anton’s chest is underneath the thin material of his shirt. you lean more into him and instinctively wrap your leg over his to bring him closer. you wrap your arms around his back to press your palms flat on his shoulders. 
“i thought you wanted to move slow?” anton says. 
he places another wet kiss to your lips before pulling back. you missed the smirk he got on his face when he knew you wanted it. it made you bashful, heat spawning from the places his body touched yours. it blossomed from the small of your back and spread to your finger tips that pressed against anton’s back. the feeling made you lock your leg in place, bringing anton even closer to you.
“we can move slow tomorrow.” you say hastily.
anton comes back to your lips, and you waste no time pushing your tongue into his mouth. anton must be just as desperate as you are the way he lifts you up like you weigh nothing. he almost crushed you in his arms, you have to tap on his shoulder to remind him of his strength.
“sorry.” anton whispers after pulling away from your lips.
his lips are plump and glossy, you run your tongue over yours to try and taste what’s left of him on your skin. you missed kissing his lips until they were red and a little swollen and the way he’d gather you up in your arms when you two made out. you try to get on top of anton but he uses a hand to keep you in place. you let out a little whine at not being able to move, you wanted to show anton how much you really missed him.
anton sits up on your bed to pull his shirt off. he does it with one hand and while he is busy taking off his pants you start to take off your own. as you lift your hips to take off your pants anton stops suddenly.
“wait. don’t move.” he says shyly.
you listen to his weird request, not moving while anton takes off his pants. 
when his pants hit the floor anton guides your body to sit up. you do as he says, eyeing him to see what his plan is with you.
“put your arms up.” anton tells you.
his sweet and quiet voice betrays the authoritative words. you listen to him regardless, filling to the brim with excitement of anton telling you what to do.
you lift your arms as anton pulls up your shirt. he does all the work even guiding your arms through the opening of your shirt. anton looks up at you from your collarbone, placing a wet kiss on the taut skin as his hands go to your bra strap. you nod and anton brings both of his hands to your back to unclasp your bra. he is gentle releasing your chest from its confines, his big hands covering the area of your breasts. 
no matter how many times anton sees your breasts, his breath is taken away each time. he kneads your doughy skin, lightly gripping a boob to place a kiss directly on the areola. anton missed your content sighs and breathless whimpers when he does things to you. he missed seeing your face crease with pleasure, the way you prop yourself on your arms and lean your head back to feel everything. 
“i missed holding you.” he whispers.
anton can’t stop himself from taking a nipple into your mouth. you instantly arch your chest into his mouth, your free hand petting his head.
“i dreamed about this.” you whimper when anton goes to the other breast. 
anton guides your body back down to lay on the bed. you lay your head on the pillow, looking down at anton as he trails kisses down your body.
“should’ve called me.” anton says, smiling into your stomach.
you can’t bring yourself to tell him why you couldn’t, something stupid as pride keeping you from feeling pure bliss as anton takes your shorts off. he lifts your hips off the bed all on his own, any more you try to make anton puts a gentle hand on your stomach to keep you in place.
“let me show you how sorry i am.” anton says.
he looks at you with sincerity as he continues pressing kisses to your body. he works down one leg and works his way up the other, even kissing your feet earnestly. anton makes eye contact with you as he presses a kiss to your folds. the contact alone has you lifting your hips off of the bed, trying to chase after the kiss. anton puts a hand underneath your ass to lift your bottom off the bed. you bend your knees until your thighs lightly press against the sides of anton’s head. you are still reeling from the dream you had, you know you won’t last long. 
just from the kisses anton gives your pussy you’re lightheaded, gripping the sheets trying not to lose your composure too fast. it’s a lost cause when anton looks up at you again as his thumb starts rubbing your bundle of nerves.
“my little princess,” anton whispers. “you’re sensitive?”
you whimper in response and nod your head. anton sticks his thick middle finger inside of you, bending it once he’s inside all the way. you open your mouth in a silent moan, lifting your hips off the bed even more. anton places a kiss on your thigh.
“just lay there for me,” anton says. “i got you.”
“okay.” you whimper.
anton’s soft voice completely opposes his lewd actions. the way he takes his finger out of you to spread your folds apart. you can barely manage to look down at him as he makes work of your heat, on his hands and knees to get closer inside of you. his nose bumps your clit as he eats you out, alternating between making out with your pussy and sticking his tongue in your slit.
“feels so good anton.” you whimpered. when he hums into your pussy your legs close in on him, locking him in place. “i missed you so much.”
anton starts eating you out with a new vigor. the sound of him slurping and placing sloppy kisses on your cunt fills the room. you can’t stop you hips from bucking into his mouth and anton welcomes it. he guides your legs to rest over his shoulder and sits up slightly on the bed. anton uses his strength to bring your lower half up with him. you can’t stop yourself from grind on anton’s tongue while his arm behind your ass supports your weight. his free hand reaches out to yours and you let go of your hold on the sheets to grip his hand. you are moaning loudly, watching anton watch you. 
he is entranced by your tiny cries and the way your heels dig into his back. you look so beautiful like this, not having to do any of the work to get to your peak. anton loves the way you grip his hand with all of your strength. he wants to take a picture of this moment to remember it forever. he wishes he could take a video to immortalize your whiny voice.
“i’m close.” you say.
you turned your head from the bed to look at anton. he goes back to tongue kissing your slit, purposely using his nose to bump your bundle of nerves. this way he can stimulate you adn you can take up all of his five senses.
he loves the way you smell, the way your whole body tenses when you cum unannounced. anton thinks it must’ve hit you like a freight trin the way. you cried out his name and squeezed his head between your thighs. sound is lightly muffled through your plush skin, but he can hear you loud and clear. you will definitely have to apologize to giselle in the morning.
anton takes all of your slick, slurping and getting so messy to the point. that he can feel the dribble of spit mixed with your slick come down his chin. you body turns to jelly in his grasp, your legs becoming pliable. anton comes back down to the bed and guides your ass down slowly. 
your legs are flimsy and your knees unbend themselves, sliding down the covers of your bed. anton goes back on his haunches slotted between your legs, looking at you laid out for him like a five course meal.
anton is starving when he licks his lips, the glossy sheen of you still evident on his face. the intensity that he looks at you with has you squirming, and you can feel your body getting ready for a second round. you try sitting up, to grab anton’s hard member that bobs in the darkness of your room but a hand stops you.
anton keeps you down, but you can’t stop yourself from looking at him. the hand that pushed your shoulder back down goes to your slit, gathering slick from your orgasm. anton using the wetness to jerk himself off. you are enthralled by the sight, the way anton’s hair covers his eyes but you can still feel his hard gaze. his breath comes out in huffs as he picks up the speed and muscles underneath his taut skin move in tandem with his hand. his body looks so large from this angle, the way looks down at you while beating his dick. you don’t know how much control anton wants tonight, but you can’t stop yourself from using a hand to grip your breast.
anton increasing the pace tells you that he likes it. your massage the supple skin the same way anton does, the same way he does it to you in your dreams. it’s the real deal when he leans his body over, his hand falling beside your head. 
he still beats his dick while he’s above you. his chain jumps from the inertia of the action and you can’t choose between looking at anton or his necklace.
“what do you dream about?” anton murmurs.
“us running around together in a meadow.” you say truthfully.
“what else?” anton asks.
his hand thaat was jerking himself off went back to your clit. he puts two fingers in, making you listen to the low squelching sound of your arousal already coming back. 
“i dream about you fucking me, too.” you say.
that’s all anton needs to hear before guiding his dick to your heat. he goes down to his elbow beside your head and in one swift motion you bring your hands to his back and wrap your legs around his waist.
anton is just as big as you remember. you have never felt this full before, your walls clamping around him before he can bottom out. anton loses some of his strength at the way you’re already milking him. his large sweaty frame presses against your chest and you welcome it. your breasts are squished against him, both of you moaning in ecstasy.
“i missed you so much.” anton says into the skin of your neck. 
you can practically feel his face heating up and you can imagine his flushed face as he gives you another slow thrust. you think you’re close again already. when anton gives you a deep thrust your nails dig into the expanse of his back.
“i missed you too.” you say.
anton focuses on hitting you deep and slow. he hits the spot in the back of you that you both discovered together—the spot that leaves you clenching and anton twitching inside of you.
“just like this?” anton says, hitting the same spot again.
“just like that.” you whine.
anton spends time hitting that spot over and over again. he kisses any part of your body his lips can reach before turning your head to give you a kiss on the lips. 
his other hand hold your hips done. his strength brings you pain, the type you revel in. you let anton forget his own strength as he continues to fuck you into the mattress, his slow and hard thrust making you bed creak rhythmically.
you can feel anton getting close to his peak, feeling him get closer has you hurtling towards the edge as well. you move one hand from his back to grip his arm, your nails digging into the flexed muscle. something about seeing someone so big and strong fall apart above you has you clenching uncontrollably around anton’s dick.
you break apart from anton’s lips to look down between the middle of your squished bodies. anton does the same, lifting his body so you can see where you two meet. you rest your sweaty foreheads against eachother to watch the show.
“i’m close.” anton whimpers.
“me too.” you say back.
“where can i—” anton’s voice is broken up by pleasure, trying to keep it together for as long as possible.
“inside me. please.”
“alright baby.” anton says.
he brings his chest back down to yours, and he brings an arm underneath your body to bring you close. you’re surrounded by him, nails rake down anton’s back as he picks up the speed.
anton whimpers your name into your ear before pulling back to look you in the eyes. he curses from your blown out pupils and the way your walls close in around him. anton grips your shoulder as he spills into you. you milk him dry, the sensation of him throbbing pushes you off the edge again. you pushed off into anton’s arms as your legs around his waist pulls him in. you grind into him when his hips still, loving the sound of anton inside of you. he whines and laughs a little from the overstimulation, his whole body sensitive. 
you still move you hips until anton pulls out of you. you can feel his cum dripping from you and you fight the urge to push it back in. anton’s large body loses its strength above you, pressing your body into the mattress. he catches his breath in the crook of your neck, hot puffs of air fanning your skin. 
you let anton’s large body crush you a little more. you missed him so much you would risk the suffocation. when anton’s breath finally steadies, you tap his back. anton understands immediately, picking his head up from your neck.
“oh my god i’m sorry.” anton says.
he slides off of you to lay beside you on the bed. you waste no time turning to him. now you’re the one tracing shapes on his chest. anton turns to you and smiles. 
the rain outside is almost as comforting as the feeling of anton pulling you back into him. you doze off to sleep again, this time knowing you’ll be waking up to anton next to you.
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tiny-space-platypus · 3 months ago
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Never really fit back in
Part 2 Daniel or Danyal or Danny?
previous
Danyal took a deep breath. There was only one person who could bring him to his brother. One person who could get him into the Wayne household. Vlad Masters, his godfather, though things were getting better with Vlad it was still awkward. He doubted he'd ever fully trust him but he was the only adult around who knew what he was and at least for right now wasn't trying to kill him for it. Plus he had access to the Wayne Galas and as his heir Danny did too.
"Daniel" Vlad smiled at him and offered him a seat at his table. "I was quite surprised when you asked to have a meeting with me" Danyal took a seat as dinner was served to them. He hesitated before speaking. Danny had been trying to prepare what to say to Vlad all day but now he was here, his mind went blank.
"I-" He paused as he pursed his lips before stealing his nerves once again. "I'd like to take up your offer of being your heir." Vlad stopped moving for a second as his smile faltered. he stared at Daniel. The silence was deafening. Danyal continued or well rambled after an uncomfortably long few minutes of silence. "The Fenton household hasn't felt safe in.. Well it's never been safe but ever since my accident it's just gotten worse. The house is always attacking me, even though my parents- Even though Maddie and Jack know I'm Phantom now that hasn't stopped them- actually I think they've just been ignoring me. And-"
"Daniel,"
"Since Jazz left for college, I've only really had Sam and Tucker but-"
"Daniel"
"They're now busy preparing for their own futures and all that-"
"Daniel!" Vlad spoke a little louder silencing Danny again then sighed. "I will gladly take you in, Daniel. It's the least I can do for you" Danyal relaxed a bit, though not too much. Vlad might be better now but he's still a power hungry fruitloop. Danny still had to be careful but at least Vlad's manor wasn't actively trying to destroy him. At least Vlad acknowledged his existence. And so Danny's new life began.
A few new changes happened after he started to live with Vlad. One he changed his legal name to Danyal (it just felt more real), he and Vlad still argue over changing his last name over to Masters but Danny's not ready for that. Danny had to start taking etiquette classes from both Dorothy and Vlad, Vlad had gotten him plenty of suits and other more comfortable clothes, and Danny had full access to his lab. Though Danny didn't go down there often, it gave him the creeps in a bad way. Most labs did at this point. Instead he had taken over a large room and had a work desk where he tinkered on what ever her felt like tinkering on, or schoolwork, or the loads of paper work he had to do for the Infinite Realms. It was kind of nice having Vlad help with that though at least someone could explain what half of it meant and wasn't as secretive as Clockwork.
Four months passed and things were going great actually. Things were finally starting to feel alright again, maybe this was the best decision. Eventually Danny did tell Vlad about being Damian's brother only because he would have to confront Damian at the Wayne Christmas gala.
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Damian just like his other siblings dreaded the galas but they were important. It was important to keep building relationships with the public and the rich. It was important to keep a mask on and play the very rich found family of Brucie Wayne. It was important to keep their night life out of the picture.
Damian got ready with his siblings as usual. He listened and complained with them about the Gala as Jason laughed and praised being "dead". At least being the youngest meant he wasn't as bothered by the guests as the rest of his siblings were. All he had to do was introduce himself to the guests, have his picture taken a thousand times and lurk around the party. A boring night that would be much better spent on patrol. Though he was just has confident that the others could Patrol Gotham without them as his father.
The gala was about normal, he greeted guests with his father as Tim went out to do some networking. Dick playing as his usual self, Cass lurking around, Steph tormenting people by being her eccentric self, and Duke wandering around and making small talk. The night was normal till Masters arrived.
By that point Damian had broken off from his father and went to see and spend time with his siblings. Though something felt off after about a half hour. Damian went to report this to his father only to find him still speaking with Masters who had a boy with him. He paid no mind to him. "Father there's-" Damian paused then looked at the boy standing next to Masters who was smiling at him.
Danyal. That was Danyal. That was Danyal. That was Danyal.
Damian just stared at Danny with a look of horror that his father caught quickly. Before Bruce could pull Damian away he heard his brother speak.
"Hello, Damian. It's nice to see you again"
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Bruce had never seen his son like that before. He had never seen that look on his son's face before. Something had to be wrong he just didn't know what yet. Bruce excused both himself and Damian from the Masters and brought Damian over to the others. He looked at his son who looked both terrified and shell shocked. Bruce spoke softly.
"Damian, are you alright chum?"
Damian started to hyperventilate and mumble in Arabic. Damian normally spoke in Arabic when upset but this was very clearly different. Bruce brought Damian to his room, not because he was in trouble but because he was freaking out and needed some quiet. That night for the first time Damian openly cried in front of Bruce. That night for the first time Damian held onto Bruce like his life depended on it and sobbed. That night for the first time Damian sobbed into his father.
Bruce didn't know what the Masters did to his son but they won't get away with it. That he swore. He'll have Tim and Barbara look into them later for now his son needs him.
Next
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strawburry01 · 3 months ago
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Her Majesty
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Ford Pines x Reader
Summary: A bunch of lil blurbs about your time with Stanford. All fluffy sweet stuff to make up for whatever comes next.
A/N: thanks for all the love guys! I hope you all appreciate these little snippets to make up for me missing sometimes :)
The next time you and Ford walked into Greasy’s Diner, you were holding hands. Everyone was nudging each other’s shoulders to look. They’d been waiting on this moment for a while, silently betting and gossiping on what your relationship was. The sweet waitress Susan paid for your brunch after insisting making the pancakes in the shape of a heart which caused Ford’s face to redden.
Your VCR tape library continued to grow as did Ford’s notebook collection. He kept saying he would build another real house for you both eventually that could fit everything you both needed.
You wrote back to your sister about how you were finally dating a guy and she responded back with endless phone calls until you eventually answered. She didn’t believe you until you put Ford on the phone to prove he existed.
On your first-year of dating anniversary Ford got you a new camcorder. The newest the town’s Radio Shack had at least. You got him a new Casio watch. One with the little calculator on it.
Many nights were spent with you having fallen asleep on top of Ford as he was reading a book. He didn’t dare move you.
You brought home a cat one day you found in the forest. “We need a pet” you insisted. Ford quickly informed you that it was a baby cougar.
Ford eventually told his brother Stan that you two were dating. He never told you how Stan responded, but he didn’t know you overheard him on the phone saying, “I can’t believe she’s with someone like me,”.
You and Ford always had strained relationships with your parents so you never felt a strong urge to introduce each other to them. When your grandma passed away though he flew back to the east coast with you to attend the funeral. He teased you about the science fair and soccer trophies in your childhood room when you two spent the night there.
On your third year anniversary you two went into the larger Oregon city of Portland for the night and went to an expensive dinner. Afterwards you two went to a midnight showing of 2001: A Space Odyssey.
You both mentally kept track of the overall wins and losses of your daily chess games.
He preferred coffee, you preferred tea.
Whenever Ford would put on one of his nature or paranormal documentaries you’d always wrap yourself around his arm and fall asleep immediately. The European narrators just lulled you straight to sleep.
Ford nearly tore your ear off when your earrings got stuck to his magnet-ray. He apologized profusely and bought you new earrings to make up for ruining yours.
You insisted on going out to the town fair and got him dancing with you when the band starting playing on the last night. You were both buzzed off of beer and cider and couldn’t stop laughing and bouncing into each other.
Everyone in town knew you as the two scientists outside of town, and everyone knew how much you two loved each other.
You both said ‘I love you’ for the first time when star gazing
Hope you enjoyed! Think of this as part 2.5 I guess? Whatever is next is gonna hurt the feelings I’m sorry but I can’t help it heeheehhehehe.
Update: here it is
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halfmoonaria · 3 months ago
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when she lied
pairing: g!p sam carpenter & female reader
summary: your relationship with sam takes a turn when it’s supposed to be perfect.
word count: 4.5k
author’s note: based on the scene from the last kiss. my posts are flopping so bad its ridicilous, so if this does i wont be surprised.
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Dating a professor was never in your plans growing up, let alone one tangled in rumors of being a serial killer.
But despite the unsettling rumors about Sam, you found yourself getting pulled in; as if she was a magnetic force.
You first met Sam at a local bookshop's author event, a quaint spot filled with the scent of old books and freshly brewed coffee.
The moment she walked in, you immediately thought she was the most breathtaking woman you'd ever seen. Her presence commanded the room, and you couldn't take your eyes off her.
It was no different for Sam. She thought you were straight-up gorgeous from the moment she saw you.
However, with her troubled past and a promise to only trust Tara and the twins, it was hard to break through her defenses. But your persistence and genuine care slowly chipped away at her walls.
You showed her kindness and understanding, proving that love and trust were still possible.
Over time, she began to let you in, sharing parts of herself that she had kept hidden for so long. Your patience and love helped her believe in a future where she could trust someone new.
Sam allowed you to take her out on dates, cautiously at first. You spent evenings at cozy restaurants, weekends exploring the city, and quiet nights at home, gradually building a bond that felt unbreakable. Each date brought you closer, and before long, you couldn't imagine life without each other.
It wasn't until Sam had built a solid trust in you that she felt comfortable introducing you to Tara. She was an important person in Sam's life, and she wanted to be sure you were someone who could truly be part of their family.
Tara was skeptical, her protective nature making it difficult for her to warm up to you.
However, as she observed your genuine care for Sam and saw how well you fit into their lives, her perspective softened. Tara eventually grew to appreciate you and welcomed you into the family with open arms.
Eventually, you both had decided on taking the next step and move in together. It was a big decision, but it felt right. You found a charming apartment that was perfect for starting your life together.
During this time, Sam transitioned from being a high school teacher to a college professor. She was passionate about her work and excelled in her new role, gaining respect from colleagues and students alike.
Her career move not only marked a professional milestone but also brought a sense of stability and accomplishment to your shared life.
In your own professional life, you worked as a child psychologist, helping kids navigate their emotions and overcome challenges.
And even though both of your busy occupations demanded a lot of your time, you both cherished the moments you could steal away together, whether it was meeting up after work or spending hours of love making past midnight; not caring if you had work the next day.
And you always made an effort to prioritize each other. Often, Sam would come to meet you after work, witnessing your interactions with the children.
She admired the ease with which you connected with them, the patience you showed, and the gentle way you guided them through their struggles. Seeing you in your element, she felt herself  being moved by your compassion and dedication.
It was in these moments that she became even more eager to start a family with you, convinced that together, with your nurturing nature, you could offer a child a truly loving and supportive environment.
She never said or mentioned it to you, afraid you'd find it too soon and leave her because of her sounding too pushy or desperate.
However, when you showed Sam a positive pregnancy test, beaming with joy and excitement. She failed to keep the thoughts inside her.
She couldn't wait to have kids with you. It was all she ever wanted, it was going to make everything even more perfect.
It was all perfect.
You had everything. Everything you could've asked for.
A wonderful girlfriend, a job you enjoyed and cherished, and now; a growing life inside of you.
You were going to be a mother, alongside the love of your life.
In your mind you had it all. And Sam had not yet to disagree.
Until you started to question everything you have.
Cracks began to appear as reality set in. With your pregnancy, you knew that your stomach would soon begin to grow, and you would have to make significant changes.
As your pregnancy progressed, you faced the undeniable truth that you would need to quit working soon. The physical demands of carrying a child meant that your ability to balance work and personal life was diminishing.
More troubling was the fact that the time you once spent with Sam seemed to evaporate.
She had begun to claim she was "working late" or "staying at the office," but these excuses were becoming increasingly frequent.
You started to notice that instead of spending evenings together, Sam was often absent, and it became clear she was spending her time elsewhere.
You had never had second thoughts or hesitation about you and Sam, but as the dinners alone and nights that was spent waiting for her to come home increased, you were starting to.
The life you had envisioned seemed to be disintegrating, replaced by an unsettling uncertainty about your future together.
It was a damp and dreary Thursday, the kind that soaked through your shoes and lingered in your bones.
The clock was nearing midnight, and Sam had yet to come home.
You sat alone in the couch of the living room, remnants of a cold dinner in the kitchen waiting for her just as much as you were.
The clock ticked louder with each passing minute, amplifying your growing concern as Sam continued to miss your text messages and calls. Your anxiety was palpable.
Finally, the front door finally creaked open, and Sam walked in, her face looking weary and her clothes slightly disheveled. You rose from the couch, feeling the weight of your pregnancy more acutely with each movement. Though your belly was still modest, the curve was noticeable.
You walked over to her, standing firmly in front of her, trying to meet her gaze. "Where have you been?" you asked, struggling to keep your voice steady and calm.
Sam seemed momentarily taken aback before she quickly tried to mask her discomfort. "I was at work," she said, though her eyes avoided yours.
You shook your head, hurt seeping into your tone. "You weren't at work until eleven o'clock at night." Taking a deep breath, you added, "Please, don't lie to me."
Sam's shoulders slumped, and her gaze fell to the floor. The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken truths, and you could sense the growing distance between you. The warmth and closeness you once shared seemed to be slipping away, replaced by a cold uncertainty that left you questioning everything you had believed to be true.
You watched her closely, noticing the disheveled state of her clothes—her shirt slightly untucked, her hair a mess. Something about her appearance didn't sit right with you. The scent of an unfamiliar perfume lingered faintly in the air, a detail that only heightened your unease.
"Who were you with?" you asked, your voice tinged with a mix of fear and suspicion. The late hours, the unanswered messages, and now this—everything pointed to something being terribly wrong.
"I was at work," Sam insisted, avoiding your gaze. "There was no one else. I was the only one who had work and essays left to correct."
You stepped closer, your heart pounding, your voice trembling. "Who were you with, Sam?" Tears threatened to spill over as you thought about all the nights she'd been late recently, all the missed dinners, and the growing distance between you.
You needed to hear her say it, to confirm the gnawing doubt that had been eating at you.
Her eyes flickered with panic, her facade starting to crack. The room fell into a heavy silence, the tension thick and suffocating.
She looked down, unable to meet your eyes.
"This girl I met it was nothing," she blurted out, her words rushed and desperate.
Your heart sank, the weight of her betrayal crashing over you. And without thinking, you raised your hand and slapped her across the face.
The slap wasn't hard, it didn't physically hurt her. She just felt the contact, her reaction one of pure shock. Her eyes widened more stunned by the act than the impact.
You were shaking so badly that the force behind the slap was minimal, driven more by your emotional turmoil than any physical strength.
Sam's expression shifted from shock to a mixture of guilt and sorrow, her shoulders slumping. She knew she deserved it.
Trying to calm yourself down, you took a deep breath, but your voice still quivered with anger. "Did you fuck her?"
You didn't care about the specifics—who the girl was or how Sam had met her. "Tell me, did you cheat on me?"
Sam's face was a mask of regret, her eyes pleading for understanding that you couldn't give. She took a deep breath, as if trying to find the right words, but there was nothing that could make this right.
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. The silence stretched between you, heavy and oppressive.
Her shoulders slumped further, her body language betraying the truth before she even spoke. She took a deep breath, as if trying to find the right words, but there was nothing that could make this right.
She nodded slowly, whispering, "Yes."
The single word struck you like a physical blow, knocking the breath out of your lungs. It was as if the ground had been pulled out from under you, and you were falling into a bottomless pit of despair. The room blurred as your eyes filled with tears.
A searing pain tore through your chest, unlike anything you had ever felt before. It wasn't just the pain of betrayal; it was the shattering of dreams, the destruction of trust, and the end of the future you had envisioned together. Your heart, which had once beat with love and joy, now felt like it was being ripped apart.
You turned around, walking away, your hands in your hair as you struggled to contain the flood of emotions. "Oh god, you make me sick," you almost screamed, the pain and anger tearing through your voice. The tears flowed freely now, blurring your vision as you tried to make sense of the reality that had been thrust upon you.
Sam's eyes followed your every movement, filled with regret but devoid of tears.
She had felt a gnawing disgust with herself both before and after sleeping with her. The guilt had been a constant companion, whispering in the back of her mind and tarnishing her thoughts.
But seeing the raw pain and heartbreak in your eyes now, the depth of your betrayal laid bare, was a torment far beyond anything she had imagined.
The reality of what she had done, the gravity of her actions, hit her with an overwhelming force. Her own self-loathing was nothing compared to the devastation she had caused you, and the weight of that realization made her feel truly sick to her core.
Yet she seemed unable to cry, as if knowing her tears would do nothing to soothe the hurt she had caused.
The tears continued to fall, each one a silent cry of your broken heart. You had given Sam everything, your love, your trust, your future; and she had thrown it all away. The realization was almost too much to bear, the pain so intense that it felt like you were being torn apart from the inside.
As you moved through the house, Sam followed, a sense of desperation in her steps. She knew she had to say something, anything, to try and fix the situation.
"Wait, please," Sam pleaded, her voice breaking. She reached out but didn't touch you, afraid her touch would only make things worse.
You walked into the living room, your mind racing, needing space to think, to breathe. Sam's presence was suffocating.
You began to pace, your movements erratic, tears streaming down your cheeks.
Sam stood a few feet away, wringing her hands. "It was one time," she began, her voice trembling. "And it meant absolutely nothing."
You stopped pacing but didn't turn to face her, your eyes filled with hurt and disbelief. The reality of her words only made the pain sharper, cutting deeper.
"It was a stupid thing, baby" she continued, her tone pleading for understanding. "Just a stupid thing." She repeated shortly after.
"I'm so sorry." Sam tried.
Her attempt at an apology only left a more bitter taste in your mouth.
How can she apologize when she had been keeping this hidden from you for weeks, months even?
Just then, Sam's phone buzzed, the sound cutting through the heavy silence like a knife. You glanced at the phone in her hand, a sudden, cold suspicion gripping you.
Without thinking, you reached out and snatched the phone from her. Sam's eyes widened in shock, but she didn't stop you. She knew she couldn't.
You looked at the screen, and there it was; a name you didn't recognize, but the message was clear: "Had a great time tonight. Can't wait to see you again." You read the message aloud, your voice dripping with disgust.
Sam's face crumpled, the regret etched deeply in her features. She stood there, the weight of her actions crashing down on her, unable to do anything but watch as the person she loved crumbled before her eyes.
Your heart sank, the final piece of evidence falling into place. You turned the phone towards her, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. "Who is she?"
Sam's face paled, her eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and fear. "Her name is Lily," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Lily." You repeated.
"How old is she?" you demanded, your voice barely holding back the fury and disgust. The interest of who was worth ruining your whole future together growing.
Sam hesitated, avoiding your gaze. "Is she your colleague? Boss? Student? You've always liked them younger."
"Stop," Sam pleaded, her voice barely audible.
"How old is she, Sam?" you pushed, your desperation breaking through.
"Nineteen," Sam blurted out. "She's nineteen, alright?" The moment the words left her mouth, she seemed to regret it, her shoulders slumping further under the weight of her confession.
You felt a wave of nausea wash over you, threatening to make you sick. "She's nineteen, Sam? You slept with a fucking nineteen-year-old?" you screamed, the reality of her betrayal hitting you with full force.
She didn't answer, her silence only deepening the wound. She stood there, her eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and self-loathing, knowing that nothing she could say would make this right.
Sam had always been the most confident and strongest woman you had ever known. She had faced down her own demons and the judgment of the world, standing tall when people whispered about her being the daughter of a serial killer.
She had protected Tara fiercely, fought off threats both physical and emotional, and had always seemed unbreakable.
You remembered the times she had confronted dangers head-on, her bravery almost intimidating. The way she took charge during crises, her unwavering resolve, and the sheer force of her willpower. Sam had always been a rock, someone who never showed fear or doubt.
But now, as she stood before you, she looked scared. Her eyes, usually so steely and determined, were now wide and pleading. She seemed small, fragile, a stark contrast to the woman who had faced down killers and public scorn without flinching.
As you looked at her, you saw something you had never seen before—pity. Pity for herself, and maybe for you too. Her gaze was filled with it, and it made your heart ache even more. Sam had never felt pity for anyone before, not in the way you had seen.
She had always been the strong one, the protector. But now, she looked at you with eyes that seemed to say she was sorry for everything, for every ounce of pain she had caused.
Although her puppy eyes and guilty stare didn't help. In fact, it made you even more furious. And the rage was starting to boil over.
Your head felt like it was pounding, and you felt sick of the thought that Sam had let somebody else touch her. And you wanted to know why.
"What's so wrong with me then?" you technically shouted, your voice breaking. "Am I too old for you now?"
Sam flinched at your tone of voice, her eyes filling with tears, threatening to fall when she shook her head as soon as the question left your lips.
"No, it's not like that" she whispered.
"Does she have a better body?" You continued, voice breaking.
"No, Y/n please, it's not about that." Sam pleaded, but you were relentless.
"Did I not fuck you good enough?" you demanded, the hurt and anger making your voice tremble. "Is that it?"
Sam's face crumbled, and she shook her head desperately. "It wasn't about you. It was never about you"
"Then what is it, Samantha? What's so fucking special about her? Is she prettier than me?"
"No!" she replied as soon as the words left your lips, the answer immediate and forceful. Sam's eyes locked onto yours, filled with a raw honesty.
Your looks had always captivated Sam, from the way your eyes sparkled with emotion to the way your hair framed your face perfectly. She loved the way your smile could brighten a room, the way your presence brought her comfort.
You were everything she had ever dreamed of having in a partner when she was little, and she hoped you knew that.
She used to tell you all the time, to remind you how much you meant to her. But she had stopped when Lily started showing interest.
She wished more than anything that you could see yourself through her eyes, to understand the depth of her admiration and love for you. But now, as she stood there, seeing the heartbreak in your eyes, she realized she had ruined everything. Her betrayal had shattered the trust and love you had built together, and she feared she had lost any chance of you ever believing in her again.
"Liar!" you screamed, the fury in your voice reverberating through the room.
You knew something had pulled her to Sam, some inexplicable attraction that drew them together, but it only made the betrayal sting more. The knowledge that she had chosen someone else, even for a fleeting moment, was unbearable.
You pushed Sam, your hands hitting her shoulders with desperate force. She stumbled back, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and regret. Her back hit the lamp on the drawer, the shade tilting precariously before falling to the side.
"What am I supposed to do now?" you demanded, pushing her again. "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" Each shove punctuated your words, your voice breaking with anguish. "You've ruined everything!"
Sam flinched with each push, her hands raised slightly as if to steady herself, but she didn't try to stop you. She knew she deserved every bit of your anger, every word of your pain. Her eyes filled with tears she refused to shed, her heart aching at the sight of your devastation.
"Will you listen to me, Y/n? It meant absolutely nothing!" Sam pleaded, her voice breaking as she tried to reach out to you.
You stopped pushing her, your hands trembling with a mix of rage and sorrow. The room seemed to close in around you, the weight of her words and the betrayal pressing down on you.
"Nothing?" you echoed, your voice filled with disbelief. "You slept with her. You were out with another woman all night. I'm pregnant, is that fucking nothing to you?"
"Yes! I mean, no," Sam stammered, her voice cracking under the pressure.
"How many times did you fuck her?" you demanded, your voice icy and resolute. "And don't you dare lie to me."
Sam's face went pale, her eyes pleading as if begging you to retract the question. She hesitated, her gaze flickering between you and the floor, clearly struggling with the weight of her confession. Each second felt like an eternity as she fought to keep her composure.
You remained silent, staring at her with a mixture of anger and heartbreak, your eyes unyielding. The room seemed to grow colder with the intensity of the moment, the air thick with tension.
Finally, with a deep, shuddering breath, Sam looked up at you, her voice barely a whisper. "Three times," she said, her tone cracking with guilt.
You turned away, unable to bear the weight of her confession. Your heart felt like it was being crushed under a mountain of stress, shock, and disgust. "I think I'm going to throw up," you said, your voice barely a whisper as you walked toward the kitchen.
You needed to get away from Sam, to escape the suffocating reality of her betrayal. The sight of her was too much, her presence a painful reminder of the lies and broken trust.
But of course, she followed you, her footsteps echoing in the silence that hung heavy between you.
"But it didn't mean anything, baby," she rambled, her voice trembling with desperation.
"She made me realize I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know that now." Her words tumbled out, as if saying them repeatedly would somehow make everything right.
You stopped just short of the kitchen entrance, turning to face her with a look of fierce anger and hurt.
"I'm five months pregnant, and you're already out trying to fuck other women!" you screamed, your voice breaking with the force of your emotions.
The words hung in the air.
Sam stood there in silence, the weight of her actions pressing down on her like a ton of bricks. She knew there was no justification, no excuse that could make this right.
The realization of what she had done washed over her, leaving her feeling hollow and regretful. She had always prided herself on being strong and confident, but now, faced with the consequences of her betrayal, she felt weak and powerless.
The sight of you, the person she loved and admired most, looking at her with such hurt and anger, made her stomach churn. She wanted to speak, to beg for your forgiveness, but the words caught in her throat, tangled in her guilt.
You stared at her, waiting for something—anything—that could make this less painful. But her silence only deepened the wound. "Fuck you, Sam. It's over."
You turned away from her, walking into the kitchen with a sense of finality. Sam followed, her voice trembling as she called your name. "Y/n..." she started, her tone almost pleading as if she couldn't believe this was happening. You walked further, needing to put distance between you and her.
"Get out right now," you commanded, turning around to face her, your voice filled with a quiet threat. "I'll tell you when you can come and get your shit. Maybe Lily can help you pack." You spat the girl's name like a curse, the mere sound of it making your skin crawl.
Your head was pounding, the pain intense and unrelenting, threatening to explode. The pressure of trying to hold back sobs was almost unbearable, and the anger in your voice was the only thing keeping you from breaking down completely. You stood there, trembling, every muscle in your body taut with the effort of keeping it together.
Sam took a hesitant step forward, her voice trembling but attempting to remain calm. "Y/n, we're having a baby together," she reasoned, her tone a poor mask for the panic bubbling beneath the surface.
She knew deep down that her words wouldn't reach you, that her calm facade was crumbling. Her mind was spiraling, grasping at any hope to salvage what was left.
You turned around sharply, your eyes blazing with anger. "No," you snapped, your voice cutting through the air like a knife. "I'm the one having this baby. I'm the pregnant one. Not you."
Sam opened her mouth to say something, but you cut her off, your voice rising with each word.
"Get the fuck out, Sam, or I swear I'll call the police," you threatened, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and desperation. Sam's eyes widened with shock, and she took a step back, realizing the gravity of your words.
You didn't know what you would say to the police, or if you'd even call them to begin with, but you saw how she looked at you as if you were ready to do whatever it took to get her out of there, so she believed you would actually do it.
"Y/n, please..." she started, but the look in your eyes silenced her.
"Leave," you commanded, your voice steadier now, but no less fierce. "I can't stand the sight of you right now."
But when Sam didn't move, you realized you no longer had the strength to scream at her.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You needed her to understand, to listen to you just one last time. "Will you just get out, please?" you said, your tone softer now, almost pleading.
The exhaustion was overwhelming, making your limbs feel heavy and your vision blur at the edges.
You felt like you might faint from the sheer emotional toll of the confrontation. Sam hesitated for a moment longer, her eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness, but finding none.
With a resigned nod, she turned and walked out, leaving you standing there, the silence of the room pressing in on you, suffocating.
Your thoughts swirled in a chaotic mix of anger, sadness, and disbelief. The betrayal felt like a raw, open wound, each memory of Sam's deceit a fresh stab to your heart.
The room seemed to close in around you, the walls pressing in as if to suffocate the last remnants of your strength. You reached out for something to hold onto, trying to anchor yourself in a reality that felt increasingly surreal.
The silence now felt deafening, a stark contrast to the heated exchange that had just occurred. It was a silence that spoke of a fractured future, of dreams and trust irrevocably shattered.
When you two first met, Sam was the one who struggled to trust strangers or new people.
Now, you were the one left with the painful understanding that even those you've loved for years could betray you.
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