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rafeandonlyrafe · 11 months

Text

just friends

words: 3.1k

warnings: drinking

“hey rafey.” you call, bouncing into the room and giving him a kiss on the very top of his head.

rafe eyes kelce and topper immediately. “only she gets to call me that.” he says sternly, and they both nod, knowing he’s not kidding about that.

“what are you doing, y/n/n?” rafe asks as you start to rifle through the cabinets in his kitchen.

“getting something to eat.” you say with a shrug, frowning when you can’t find any snacks you like.

“here.” rafe stands up from the stool he’s sitting on and pushes it back under the counter, rounding it to place a hand on your back and guide you to the pantry. he opens it and grabs your favorite bag of chips, knowing exactly what you prefer after 15 years of friendship.

“perfect!” you say happily, giving rafe a dazzling smile, pouring some in a bag and handing rafe the bag back to put away. you head out of the room, going to eat in front of the tv. rafe watches you leave before returning to his spot between topper and kelce.

“why aren’t you dating her again?” kelce asks, making rafe give him a slap on the arm.

“she’s my best friend.” rafe clarifies. you’re the one good thing he’s managed to keep in his life, a light in the darkness, his only source of joy some days when his dad is being particularly cruel or the pain of missing his mom gets too great.

“hey rafe, i was wondering if you were gonna miss family dinner.” your mom says, giving him a quick hug.

“and miss your cooking? never mrs y/l/n.” rafe smiles, always putting his charm on when he’s around your parents, despite them already loving him like he’s her own son.

“y/n is outside on the daybed, i think we’ll eat outside since it’s such a nice day.”

“that sounds perfect.” rafe heads towards the door before turning back to call, “let me know if you need any help!”

you look up from your phone when rafe comes out onto the patio, smiling at your best friend. “come hereeeee, rafey.” you say, dropping your phone and opening your arms to him.

rafe joins you on the daybed, resting his head on the pillow next to you as he lays down, pulling you into his hold. you grin as you snuggle into his hold, resting your head against his chest, feeling the familiar heartbeat against your cheek.

you don’t even need to speak, simply relaxing and enjoying being around each other, rafe rubbing his hand up and down over your back, you tracing shapes on his torso.

your mom carries the dishes to the outdoor table, with the help of your dad who just got home from work. “do you think they’re finally going to realize that they’re in love with each other now that they’re older?” your mom asks with a sigh, wiping her hands on her apron as she watches the two of you.

“i’m sure they will soon.” your dad says, placing a hand on his wifes back, “on their own time.”

rafe grins as you walk down the stairs and into the dining room, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. your hair is a mess of curls, sticking out in every direction from your scalp.

“why-” you say, flopping down on the seat next to rafe, “do you look so awake right now?”

you thought you were getting up early when you dragged yourself out of bed at 10 am after a movie marathon with rafe that lead you far too late in the night.

“you know i always sleep best when you’re in the bed with me.” rafe says, offering you his bowl of cereal, knowing he can get more later, wanting you to eat as well. you accept it, talking about the movie as you finish off the honey nut cheerios.

“hey y/n.” wheezie greets you, also still in her pajamas, but you’re so comfortable with each other that she doesn’t mind, it’s nowhere near the first time.

“hey wheez.” you say with a smile.

“did you sleep over?” she asks.

“mhm!” you hum in response. “do you wanna do something today wheez? i can take you shopping if you want.” “oh yeah!” wheezie says. “let me get dressed.” “woah, woah, slow down! eat first then we can get some starbucks, okay? besides i still have to shower.” “okay, thanks y/n/n.” wheezie says, rushing out of the room.

“i can’t believe my little sister is stealing my best friend from me.” rafe pouts, crossing his arms.

“oh shush.” you say, standing up and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“ugh!” you shout, watching the liquid fall down the front of your dress, soaking the material. your bottom lip quivers. you felt so beautiful tonight, your hair and makeup came out perfectly, but now the beer spilled down your front is ruining that completely.

“i’m so so sorry-” the man begins to apologize, but rafe is already hovering over you, giving the guy a look that his him almost shaking in fear.

“get. out.” rafe manages to say through gritted teeth. the man backs away, heading out of the party.

“rafe, you didn’t have to make him leave.” you say with a pout.

“but i did, he ruined your pretty dress, baby.” rafe hates the look on your face, would do anything to make you smile again, to make you feel better.

you sniffle at the mention of your dress. rafe completely forgets that he’s supposed to be hosting this party right now, taking your hand and tugging you inside of the house and up the stairs.

“come on, sarah wouldn’t mind if you wear something of hers.” rafe says, directing you into his sisters room. you know he’s right, you’re practically a big sister to sarah with how much you’re around. you’ll send her a text promising to give the dress back clean and take one out of her closet.

rafe waits outside the door as you change, taking the dirty dress and tossing it into the laundry room to deal with later.

“i’m so sorry, bunny.” rafe says, using the nickname he gave you originally in third grade when you would come over just to bounce on his trampoline, until you begged your parents enough that they got one as well.

“it’s okay.” you say, shoving him away from you once you get downstairs, “now go get more beers, i’m sure we’re running low.” rafe nods, letting you boss him around, the one person who can tell him what to do and he’ll actually listen.

you head back out to the party, your friend coming up to you and handing you a drink. “thank youuu.” you coo, taking a sip of the bitter liquid.

“you know, nobody believes you guys are just friends.” she says with a laugh.

“huh?” you ask, only half listening as your eyes scan the party.

“you and rafe, everyone thinks theres something more going on.” “oh my god.” you roll your eyes, sick of this conversation surrounding yours and rafes relationship. “we are just friends! just really good friends!” you say.

“uh huh.” your friend says, and you can tell that she absolutely does not believe you.

“rafey, i’m cold.” you say, tucking yourself underneath his arm, giving a tug at the sweatshirt covering his waist.

“i told you to put something warmer on!” rafe says, taking his eyes off the football game you’re watching to tug his sweatshirt off, hanging it over to you without a second thought.

“you also said you liked my shirt, so you’re sending a lot of mixed signals here.” you say as you pull the sweatshirt over your head, making rafe chuckle.

you make sure he’s not going to get cold himself by wrapping your arms around him, keeping your body close together to share your heat. you breathe deeply into the collar of his sweatshirt, loving the comforting scent.

“this is exactly what i mean.” your friend says when she rejoins you after getting a pretzel from a snack vendors.

“what do you mean?” you ask.

“nobody believes you’re just friends.”

“i’ve literally-” your declaration is interrupted by a loud hiccup, “never been drunk in my life.”

“me either.” rafe says, pulling you onto his lap, head lolling forward against the back of your neck, pressing his lips to the skin there that’s exposed by your bikini.

“you guys went ham.” topper laughs from the other side of the boat, also now just chilling on the sofas after the boat was brought back to the dock and most of the people got off, signaling the end of the party.

“i don’t think i can move.” you manage to slur out, turning to sit sideways on rafes lap so you can rest your head against his shoulder.

“you’re more than welcome to sleep on the yacht.” topper says, “my parents won’t be back until monday.” “mmkay.” you say, tracing your fingers over rafes jaw. “thanks top.” rafe looks down at you, an unfamiliar emotion in his eyes, one he usually hides from you. it makes you sit up straight, turning to fully face him now, straddling his lap.

“kiss me.” you say, taking his cheeks into your hand and squeezing them slightly, even as your head spins from the amount of alcohol you’ve taken in over the course of the evening.

“yeah.” rafe nods, pulling you tight against him, keeping his hands on your waist as your mouths connect in a sloppy, messy drunk kiss.

“hey, hey.” topper is suddenly pulling you guys apart. “you’re way too drunk for kissing.” he’s thankful that he opted to drive the boat, meaning that he’s not as insanely drunk as you two are.

“n-no.” rafe says, trying to go to push topper away, but his arm falls before he can even raise it halfway up.

“let me kiss rafe, top, please, i love him so much.” you say, pushing your mouth back against rafes,

“no, you’re best friends, remember!” topper says, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you off of rafes lap, ignoring your whines at being separated. “now, y/n, you come with me and you can take the main bedroom, rafe can sleep on the couch.” “noo, i want rafe, i want him.” you whine, but the minute your head hits the pillow, you’re out like a light.

you and rafe don’t remember anything from after the party, and topper decides not to tell you about the drunken kiss, not wanting you to feel regret.

“what do you want?” rafe asks, knowing you don’t like to order and prefer him to do it.

your hands are firmly grasped together as your eyes look over the options. “umm, two scoops of chocolate chip cookie dough.” you say.

“in a bowl? with sprinkles?” rafe asks, knowing that’s usually what you prefer.

“mhm.” you nod, “thanks rafey.”

you let him order his own ice cream and then your own, swaying your hands between your bodies.

“you two are cute together, how long have you been together?” the woman behind the counter asks.

“oh no.” rafe laughs, handing over the cash for the ice cream. “we’re just friends.”

the womans eyes drop to your conjoined hands, and you realize how it looks, letting your hand open and drop away from rafes.

“suuure.” the woman nods, stepping away from the counter to prepare your ice cream.

you watch in silent anger as rafe dances with the girl, whose name you think is stephanie but you can’t be sure.

“just go over there, he’s just having fun with her, he only has eyes for you.” topper says, seeing the sad look on your face.

“what? no.” you shake your head, forcing a laugh out. “i’m fine.” “you certainly don’t look fine. you look heartbroken.” topper says.

“come on, you know he’s my best friend.” you say, forcing your eyes away from the dance floor to look at topper.

“dance with me then.” topper stands up, offering you his hand. “just for fun, i know you don’t have feelings for me.”

you smile at your friend, often forgetting that while you and rafe are extremely close and have been for years, that topper was also there with you for a lot of the time.

“okay.” you place your hand in his, letting him pull you off your seat and towards the edge of where everyone is dancing. you move stiffly at first, unused to the feeling of someone other than rafe touching you, but eventually you get into the rhythm, laughing as topper twirls you around.

you’re not even really dancing to the beat of the song, just letting topper move you as he pleases. you let yourself get lost under the colorful lights, your hands coming up to make movements in the air as toppers hands grip your waist, moving his body behind yours.

you close your eyes and grind your hips back against his, until you’re suddenly pulled away, making your eyes snap open.

“rafe!” you shout as rafe holds you against his body, shoving topper away from you. “what are you doing?”

“it’s fine, y/n.” topper says, knowing the look of jealousy in rafes eyes.

“no, it’s not fine.” you cross your arms, stepping away from rafe. “don’t be mean to top, you can’t get upset that he’s dancing with me when you’re off with another girl.” you turn and walk away from rafe, knowing he’s on your heels as you head up to his room.

“y/n!” he shouts, slamming the door shut behind you.

“no, it’s not fair.” you say, flopping down on his bed that you practically treat like your own. “it’s not fair that you get to go have fun, hook up with girls, but the second i even dance with our friend, you pull me away?”

rafe sits down on the edge of the bed, his back to you. “you’re right.”

“i am?” you ask, surprised that rafe conceded so quickly.

“it’s not fair that i get jealous but don’t expect you to be.” rafe moves so he’s laying down next to you, face to face.

“there’s nothing to be jealous of anyways, rafe.” you say, placing your hand on his face, stroking your fingers over the smooth plans of his cheek. “i was just having fun with top, he was making me feel better because i was upset watching you with a different girl.” rafe nods, pulling you in tight to his body. you sigh softly at being in his hold, knowing you’re the one at the end of the day who gets to be with him.

“i love you.” rafe suddenly says. he’s said it before, a million times, but you can tell that this time is different.

“rafe-”

“no, i love you. let me say it.” rafe says, opening his mouth to talk more but your ears seem to stop working, tuning him out as your mind starts to race. years of friendship, years of being by each other's side.

“i-i…” you shake your head, jumping out of bed and running down the stairs, out of the house.

“it’s been an entire week since you’ve seen rafe, why don’t i call him and have him come over?” your mom asks, rubbing your head as you pull the covers up even further. you have barely gotten out of bed since rafes confession, ignoring all the times he’s texted and called you.

“mom, he’s the problem.” you groan. “i don’t want to see him.” “mmm.” your mom hums.

“please, just let me sleep. i’m tired.” you say. you haven’t been able to sleep properly, like your body knows that something is wrong, that the balance is off.

“okay, honey.” your mom drops a kiss to your forehead, closing the door behind her when she leaves.

“he’s never missed a family dinner.” you hear your dad whisper to your mom.

“i didn’t invite him.” you say, making them jump, not realizing that you were listening from your seat in the dining room.

“he doesn’t need an invitation.” your mom says, returning to stirring the pot.

“mom, stop-” you pause when you hear a knock at your door. a familiar knock, a pattern you recognize instantly.

your mom gives you a pointed look. “you let him in or i do.”

your hands are shaking as you head toward the front door, opening it to reveal rafe standing there, hands in his pockets. “i’m sorry.” rafe says, eyes on the ground. “i shouldn’t have said anything.” you step out onto the porch, closing the door behind you so your parents can’t eavesdrop. “aren’t you scared?” you ask, making rafe blink up at you.

“aren’t you scared that we might not work? we’ve been friends since we were in kindergarten. what if we throw all of that away be-because we try- i don’t know rafe!”

“shh.” rafe says, taking your face in his hands. “you’re overthinking it baby.”

you shake your head in confusion, trying to turn away, but rafe pushes you against the wall, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. “i love you. and you love me, i know it.”

your traitorous eyes drop to his lips, how close they are to your own. “i do love you.” you whisper, and that’s all rafe needs to hear as he presses your lips together. you melt into the kiss, letting rafe deepen it, his hands keeping your head in place while yours clutch at his shirt, not letting him pull away, not after wanting this for so long.

“i love you.” rafe whispers against your lips, giving you another kiss.

“i love you too.” you say with a giggle, letting rafe lift you and spin you in a circle.

��oh my god, wait until your parents find out.” rafe opens the door, tugging you inside. you follow him happily, head dizzy with love.

“rafe!” your mom says happily, both of your parents eyes looking at the way you’re wrapped around each other.

instead of speaking, rafe drops his head and presses his lips against yours, to the backdrop of your parents cheers.

“oh topper.” you sing as you skip to sit between him and rafe.

“hey, y/n.” he says, giving you a friendly smile.

“i have something to tell you.” you say, linking your hand with rafe. topper looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to speak. you just raised your joined hands with rafe and give it a shake, hoping he gets the message.

“what?” topper asks.

you laugh, obviously holding hands too much with rafe before you starting dating that it’s nothing telling to topper, so you turn and bring your knee over to the other side of rafes lap, smashing your lips together in a kiss. you pull away after a second to look at topper, “oh, thank god you’re not drunk this time.” he says, pressing a hand against his chest.

“wait, what?” you are rafe say in unison.

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duckybarnes1917 · 2 years

Text

Forbidden Fruit (DBF! Bucky x F!Reader)

18+ ONLY.

Summary: Bucky knows he shouldn't want this, but he can't resist taking a bite.

Warnings: plot what plot? smut, age gap (undefined), unprotected sex, daddy kink, Bucky's dirty mouth. The only physical description is the reader having a small tattoo, if you don't have one, pretend it's fake.

Word count: 4900

A/N: NO ONE LOOK AT ME. I am that Paul Rudd meme. Who woulda thought?

Guilt. That’s what Bucky felt every time he looked at you. His neighbor’s daughter that he had only found out about two weeks ago. Everything had been going so well. His new house in the suburbs was shaping up nicely, thanks to Sam and Clint’s help. He had made the move to help himself find some inner peace. It was working; he slept better; he ate better, he even got a cat and started doing yoga every morning. He made friends with his neighbors. Ms. Rose was an elderly (though still technically younger than him) widow who lived across the street. She brought him muffins every Sunday morning. Mark and Angela lived to the left of him. They were newlyweds and spent most of their evenings in the backyard getting high and laughing at everything the other said. Bucky thought they were sweet. And to his right, that’s where your dad lived. A single man who appeared to be about the same age as Bucky. He did something in finance and had to take a train to the city every day. He was nice enough and since they were both alone in their big houses, they became friends. Shared beers and sports games, Bucky would come over to meet his work friends now and then. But all of this, all of Bucky’s hard work, washed down the drain the second he saw you running down his sidewalk.

He had just finished his morning yoga and was about to sit down for a nice muffin and some coffee when he heard a scream. He dashed to his front window and saw a big black dog charging down the sidewalk, it’s leash flopping along behind it. And then there was you, sweaty and bleeding, and chasing this beast like your life depended on it.

Bucky opened the door and called to the dog in German. It immediately stopped and dropped its head, slowly walking up Bucky’s driveway to sit at his feet.

“How—how did you do that?!” You huffed, your hand holding your side.

“This is Bert, he belongs to Greta a few houses down… he only understands German.”

You sent an annoyed glare toward Greta’s house. “Well, that would have been nice to know before I took him on a walk.”

Bucky chuckled, “dog sitter?”

“Not really. I’m just helping her out for a few weeks while I’m in town.”

Bucky deflated a bit. You were temporary. But even so, you were standing in his driveway with a nasty cut on your knee.

“I can fix that–if you want.”

You looked down as if you hadn’t realized you were bleeding and quickly nodded. “Please.”

“I’m James, but you can call me Bucky.”

When you introduced yourself as you walked past him into the house, your name tickled something in his brain. He wanted you.

“The bathroom is right around the corner.”

Bucky followed, keeping his distance, as not to breathe down your neck. And also to check you out. It had been a while–he had needs. That’s what he told himself as he struggled to tear his eyes away from the backs of your thighs.

You walked into the small bathroom and turned to him. The sudden hesitancy on your face made him take a step back.

“You can just show me where your first aid kit is…”

Bucky nodded and stepped into the bathroom with you; you stumbled back a bit when he knelt in front of the cabinet. “Here you go. Are you sure you don’t need a helping hand?”

Bucky remained on his knees, offering the first aid kit to you. But you didn’t take it. You stared into his impossibly blue eyes and squeaked out an intelligible answer.

“Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t quite catch that.” Bucky stood up to his full height and enjoyed the way your head tilted back to maintain eye contact with him.

“Help. Please.”

Bucky smiled and patted the counter. You understood and jumped up onto it.

“Let’s see here…” Bucky cradled your calf as he lifted your leg. He rested your foot on his thigh as he got to work on your bloodied knee.

It was just a scrape, but he took his time, enjoying the way the bend of your knee offered him a lovely view. He was so lost in looking at your legs in your short shorts he didn’t notice the way your demeanor had changed.

The look of desperation in his eyes bolstered your confidence. Yes, you had been nervous. He was hot, incredibly hot. And intense. His presence had overwhelmed you, made you so desperate for him you couldn’t think straight. But now–as you watched him unabashedly stare at the bit of white lace you knew he could see up your shorts–you knew you could take him.

As he reluctantly moved on to the scrape on your elbow, you admired his weathered face. He was talking about something, but you weren’t paying attention. You noticed the cute crinkles around his eyes when he laughed, though. The salt and pepper beard, the smoothness of his pink lips, and he smelled good too. Like sandalwood and something spicy. As your eyes moved lower, you noticed the bob of his adam’s apple as he spoke, the little freckles on his neck that you wanted to bite, and lower, the muscles under his shirt… and it was only then that you noticed his arm.

“Holy shit… you’re… you’re Bucky, Bucky?!”

Bucky straightened up, looking a little worried. “Is that a problem?”

“No! I just can’t believe I didn’t recognize you until now. Fuck, you’re even hotter in person.”

Bucky’s smirk made your cheeks blaze. You hadn’t intended for that thought to come out of your mouth. But he was moving to stand between your legs, his lips inching nearer, so you weren’t about to beat yourself up over it.

“So you’re saying you weren’t driving me crazy because you knew who I was? Just because you think I’m hot?”

“Driving you crazy?” You whispered, trying your best to remain still while his nose grazed over your cheek on its path to your ear.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what you’re doing to me, sweetheart.” His voice was gravel in your ear, a chill shooting down your spine. “Besides, I can smell you.”

“Fuck me,” you breathed out and his lips instantly attached to your pulse point.

“With pleasure, kitten.”

“That was–” you were trying to explain to him you hadn’t meant it literally, but his tongue was very distracting, as were his hands, which were sliding up your little shorts to grasp your ass. “Oh god, I don’t even know you.” Your hands tangled in his hair and you brought his lips to yours.

Just as a pathetic moan was leaving your throat, your ringtone blared through the bathroom, making you both jump.

“Sorry, sorry, just let me turn it off.” You scrambled for your phone, accidentally dropping it on the floor.

“Got it, sweetheart.” Bucky bent down to pick up your phone and froze when he saw the picture on the screen.

It was a photo of you and his friend, his neighbor… and the name on the phone said ‘dad.’

“This–he’s your–fuck.” Bucky handed you the phone and stalked out of the bathroom, nearly tripping over Bert, who had fallen asleep outside the door.

“Wait! I’m not answering it. Where are you going?!”

You scrambled after Bucky, trying to keep up with his long strides and not get distracted by the way his ass looked in his gray joggers.

“You gotta go,” Bucky said emotionlessly as he opened the front door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“Fuck, how old are you?”

Your brows furrowed, confused at his sudden change in demeanor. “Old enough to fuck a stranger in their bathroom. What the fuck, Bucky?”

“I’m friends with your dad, okay? We can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

You stared at him dumbfounded for a moment, before shrugging and walking past him. “Your loss, Buck. Come on, Bert, let’s go. I have some energy to work off now.”

As you and Bert walked down the sidewalk toward the park, you felt Bucky’s eyes glued to you the entire way.

The guilt only lasted so long. The universe forbid you from him. Made you off limits. So fucking young. He should have never touched you. Not because it was wrong, but because now the feel of you had burned into his memory. It came to him every goddamn night when he tried to sleep. And every goddamn morning when he inevitably woke up hard from his increasingly filthy dreams.

Avoiding you proved to be impossible. As hard as Bucky tried, you were always just there. He tried to relax in his backyard and there you were, swimming lazily in your dad’s pool. When he tried to go to the park, you were laying in the sun or running laps. The day he was across the street, helping Ms. Rose in her garden, was when he realized you were fucking with him.

He was minding his own business, having a lovely conversation with his elderly neighbor, when suddenly you appeared in your dad’s driveway. A little white bikini top and cutoff denim shorts were the only thing you wore. Bucky swallowed hard. The beads of sweat running down his neck were no longer just from the scorching sun. He thought maybe you were going to lie out. But no, it was worse. So much worse. You walked to the side of the house and bent over as you turned on the water house.

“No,” Bucky whispered to himself, his eyes wide as he watched you spray the hood of your little sports car.

Ms. Rose was oblivious, talking even though Bucky was clearly not paying attention anymore. His eyes watched every move you made. He swore he was dreaming. There was no way you just squeezed your sponge over yourself, but you must have, because Bucky was watching the soapy water seep through your now sheer top, and trail down your legs. When you bent over on your tiptoes to cleanse the back window of your car, he knew he hadn’t imagined the flirty looks you had been giving him throughout the week. You still wanted him. And goddamn, he wanted you more than anything. Just as his cock was urging him to get up and go do something about the way you were displaying yourself for him, your dad pulled up in the driveway.

“Fucking shit,” Bucky muttered, spinning away from you and focusing on the garden he was supposed to be attending to.

What worried him now was the complete absence of guilt he felt. He should be ashamed. Horrified at his behavior and thoughts. But the more he tried to tell himself that you were forbidden fruit, the more he wanted to take a damn bite.

He stayed confined to his house for the next two days. Curtains shut to avoid the temptation of peeking into your backyard. Your dad–his friend, kept texting, asking him to hangout and Bucky felt horrible ignoring the messages. But he couldn’t do it, not until you were gone. He thought about going to visit Sam and Clint in the city for the next week, just until you went back to wherever you had come from. But that would be too pathetic. He just needed a distraction, something to help him stop thinking about your ass in those little shorts, the water dripping between your breasts…

Bucky’s ringtone brought him back to the present, and he yanked his hand out of his shorts, cursing himself for losing control yet again. It was your dad. He sighed, pulling his large hand down his face as he answered the phone, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“Buck! I was worried you wouldn’t answer!”

“Yeah, sorry, been busy.”

“Are you coming tonight?”

Bucky was silent, trying to remember what he could be referencing.

“The game is tonight; my daughter went out with some friends, so I invited the usual gang over. Thought you’d bring that beer we all like.”

Bucky’s heart sank a little at the news that you wouldn’t be there, but maybe that was a good thing. “Sure, sure, I’ll come over soon.”

Bucky hung up the phone and looked down at his lap… first a cold shower, then the party.

The night air was crisp, and cool as you wandered through your large backyard. You were still a little tipsy from the night out with your friends, but your vision was clear enough to spot Bucky leaning against the fence talking to some of your dad’s friends. He was a vision in his French blue t-shirt and pants; his beard was scruffy with spots of gray, his hair fluffy and just untamed enough to make you imagine your fingers in it. When he laughed, his nose scrunched, and his head tossed back just a little. Was he a god? Apollo himself, here to bring you the sun? You didn’t even realize your feet were carrying you in his direction until he caught your eye. The look of panic on his face made you stop where you were, a few feet away. He mumbled excuses and avoided your eye as he made a quick exit, heading for the gate on the side of the house.

Determined to get what you knew you both wanted, you took a deep breath for courage and chased after him, glad everyone appeared too drunk to pay attention to you.

Once in the dark shadows and hidden on the side of the house, you called his name. He froze, his hand on the gate, likely debating if he would run or answer your call.

“You’re being very rude, you know.”

He still didn’t move.

“Can I at least thank you for your help the other day?”

His shoulders tensed. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”

“Well, I am.”

Bucky turned around then, inhaling sharply as his eyes roved over you. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“Oh, but I have so many ways I could say thank you.”

He took a step closer, and you pressed your back against the brick of the house. Heat prickled over your skin as he advanced on you, nearly touching you now.

“Don’t you wanna hear your options?” You whispered, eyes flicking between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes.

“We can’t,” Bucky swallowed.

“But I’ll be real good for you, I promise. Let you do whatever you want.”

“Christ,” Bucky muttered, inching even closer, his thigh slotting between your legs.

“Touch me,” you whispered, afraid you’d scare him away.

His fingers trailed up your thigh so lightly you barely felt them. Bucky stopped at the hem of your dress and you were about to complain when he pressed his hips against you, his prominent erection digging into your hip.

“Oh god, I wanna suck your cock so bad, daddy. Please, please let me.”

Bucky closed his eyes, just barely rutting against you. The veins in his neck were strained as he tried to remain in control.

“God dammit, we can’t. It’s wrong.”

“You keep saying that.” Your hands skimmed up his broad chest and over his shoulders. “I think it turns you on.”

Bucky shook his head, and you pulled him closer so you could whisper in his ear. “I think your cock gets hard every time you think about how you’re not supposed to fuck me.”

“You drive me fucking crazy,” Bucky breathed against your neck, his fingers digging into your thighs. “You’re all I think about. I want to ruin you, claim every piece of you with my fingers, and my tongue, god I wanna taste you so bad.”

“Please, daddy.”

His cock throbbed against you. “Stop, you gotta stop calling me that, kitten.” Bucky pushed away from you, still caging you in against the brick. “I’m serious. We can’t do this. I’m trying to be a decent guy here.”

You weren’t listening, and Bucky’s eyes trailed down your body to where your hand had slipped under your dress. Before he could say anything, you held two glistening fingers in his face, taunting.

“Just a taste.” You gently swiped your fingers over his plush bottom lip and his eyes went so dark you were almost afraid.

And then he was gone; disappearing so quickly that he was a blur in the night.

Bucky couldn’t breathe. He literally held his breath for as long as he could to avoid inhaling your sweet scent. He nearly broke his backdoor down trying to hurry and get inside.

“Fuck!” He shouted as finally got the door to open and he stumbled inside, drunk with lust.

His cock was so hard, he was already unbuttoning his pants and yanking the zipper down as he hurried through his kitchen. He just had to make it upstairs, but the temptation on his lips was too much, his clothes were suffocating, he need to fucking come. He braced himself on the wall by the stairs, his right hand quickly pulling his heavy cock out and pumping it with speed and efficiency. He was already so close; it was not a time for teasing. He got off on the smell of you on his lips, the feel of you pressed against him earlier that night, the dirty things you had promised–god he was an idiot, he could have you on your knees right now. He could hardly remember the last time he had a hot little mouth wrapped around him.

He cursed under his breath, fumbling for a tissue as his balls tightened and he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, coming hard as the taste of you exploded in his mouth.

Bucky had reached his limit. He was done. Today was the day he was going to ruin you. He decided this as he watched you over his fence. You were lounging by your pool, completely nude, and posed to tease the fuck out of him. One leg was bent at the knee, blocking his view of your cunt. His eyes trailed up the length of your body, only to be disappointed that your book was blocking his view of your tits. But he zeroed in on the bit of side boob he could see, licking his lips as he imagined kissing the little heart tattoo he didn’t know you had there.

He cleared his throat, and you lifted your gaze to smile at him.

“Oh hello, looking for my dad?”

Bucky’s gaze darkened. “Over here. Now.”

You froze, and Bucky wondered if you really thought he could resist you forever.

“Now, kitten.”

You nodded, turning to grab your sundress before quickly making your way to his side of the fence.

“You didn’t need to bother with the dress.” Bucky grabbed the back of your neck and pulled your lips to his.

Finally.

Fucking finally.

His tongue invaded your mouth aggressively, making up for lost time. You gasped when he nipped at your bottom lip, his frustrations spilling out. He pulled back enough to look you in the eye, both of your breaths ragged.

You opened your mouth, probably to say something cocky. But Bucky silenced you by pushing softly but firmly on your shoulders. You dropped to your knees so fast that Bucky chuckled.

“Eager?”

You already had his fly open, your tongue pressed against the wet spot his cock had made in his underwear, and he shuddered.

“And you aren’t?”

“No teasing.”

You answered by pulling his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock. It was thick and curved, his pink tip begging to be sucked.

“Holy–fuck,” Bucky dragged out the last word, reaching for the fence for support as you took him into your throat.

It had been so long since he had experienced this. While he longed for your pussy, this was different… looking down at you on your knees for him–lips wrapped tight and your tongue moving so perfectly–he wouldn’t last.

He should have taken you inside. Now he had to be quiet, had to contain the moans and gasps he wanted to let out every time you took him deeper.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky groaned as your nose pressed against his pelvis. “Wanna fuck your face, sweetheart.”

You moaned, and his dick throbbed in tune with his rapid heartbeat. But as he wrapped his vibranium hand in your hair, prepping himself to come down your throat, your backdoor opened and shut loudly.

“Shit,” Bucky cursed as your dad stepped out onto the patio and waved at him. He nudged your shoulder, and you pulled back, keeping his tip in your mouth.

Bucky gave you a warning look as your dad approached the fence.

He should have known better. As soon as he started talking to your dad, trying to get rid of him, your hot mouth slid down his cock again, slowly, but it still made him stutter. You froze once your nose was pressed against him again, and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief, until you swallowed and he nearly groaned out loud. Somehow your dad was still clueless, rambling on about-well, Bucky didn’t know what he was talking about anymore. He bit his lip hard as your tongue lapped at his balls, the tip of his cock still in your throat. A curse slipped through his lips. He was sure he looked like he was in pain–he was about to come and you wouldn’t stop–he didn’t want you to stop.

Your dad frowned. “You, okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky choked out, annoyed now that you had completely pulled back, licking his tip teasingly. “Just playing with my kitten. She’s being a bad girl.”

Bucky smirked as you clenched your thighs together.

“But I think she just needs attention. I’ll see you later.”

With that, your dad finally left and as soon as he was safely inside your house, Bucky tucked himself back into his pants and squatted down to look you in the eye.

“What happened to being a good girl for daddy, huh?”

“Couldn’t help it.”

Bucky kissed you fiercely, before bringing you to your feet. “Inside.”

You didn’t hesitate, running to his backdoor as he slowly stalked behind you.

Bucky’s tongue held power. You were sure of it. It tortured, teased, and pleased all in one firm, wet swipe. And he did it for what seemed like hours. Not letting you go until you begged for a break. When he finally lifted his head from between your trembling thighs, you groaned at the sight. His handsome beard glistened with your arousal, and his blue eyes were dark with need. Your legs spread further for him and he smirked as he climbed over your body to reach your lips.

“Good girl; gonna take my cock, kitten?”

“Yes daddy, give it to me,” you nearly whined as you felt him press the tip against your entrance.

He was quiet as he slid in, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders. You gripped them tight as he split you open slowly, every throbbing vein rubbing you in just the right way.

“Oh god, you’re so big,” you whimpered once he was fully inside you.

His breath was ragged against your neck, and even your feet pressing into his firm ass wasn’t enough to get him to move yet.

“Please,” you begged, and finally he pulled out. Bucky fucked slow but deep, making sure you felt everything he gave you. Every drag was heaven, every thrust euphoria. His vibranium hand was cradling the back of your head, tangled in your hair, his other gripping your hip to keep you in place. You climbed quickly, but you needed more.

“Faster, please, I can take it.”

Bucky’s head dropped against yours for a second before he obliged. He moved his hand from your hair to the headboard, slowly building up the speed of his thrusts.

You could feel his control slipping, his thrusts felt more frantic, the muscles in his arms bulged, and his breaths grew even more ragged.

Yet you still needed more.

“Talk to me,” you finally whispered, almost embarrassed to ask.

Bucky froze, and you feared maybe you had ruined the moment. But then he gave you that ridiculously hot, lopsided smirk and pressed his lips to your ear.

“You want me to tell you how good you feel?”

You nodded, swallowing thickly as he resumed his pace.

“Want to hear how badly I wanna ignore your pleasure and fuck you hard and fast?”

“Yes!” You groaned, lifting your hips to urge him to move faster.

“Want me to tell you how I have to masturbate every fucking day thinking about your lips, your cunt, your ass?”

“You touch yourself, wishing your cock was up my ass?”

“Fuck yes.” Bucky sounded truly broken, and you lifted his head to see the desire in his eyes.

“Next time,” you managed to speak before his pace turned even more punishing.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me. Tell me what else you like, sweetheart. Wanna feel you come.”

“Suck my tits, daddy, I’m so close.”

“With pleasure,” Bucky immediately moved his lips to the little tattoo on the side of your breast. Swiping his tongue over it a few times while his big hands squeezed your tits. His pace slowed slightly as he lost himself in worshiping your breasts. His tongue teased until you were nearly frantic with desire. With one last slow lick over your nipple, his warm mouth wrapped around it. Your back arched, and you came almost instantly, drawing a deep groan from him as he continued to suck hungrily.

You knew he had to be close. He was putting off his own release to draw more and more from you.

“Wanna ride you, daddy.”

He didn’t argue, flipping the two of you over so you were on top of him, your hands planted on his muscular chest.

You didn’t think he could get any better, but this angle made your eyes roll to the back of your head. Yeah, there would definitely be a next time, and a time after that. As many times as he’d allow.

His fingers gripped your hips hard, and you fluttered around him at the thought of the bruises he would leave behind.

“I’m close,” Bucky said, almost reluctantly. “Gotta stop.”

“Can’t,” you said breathlessly, moving your hips faster.

He groaned, arguing with you even as his hand moved from your hip to your breast and his hips jerked off the bed.

“Come inside me, daddy, need it.”

“Jesus fuck,” Bucky’s head dipped back. “You can’t–can’t say shit like that.”

“Why?” You questioned, leaning down to his ear. “Because you’re not supposed to be fucking me? Because you’re not supposed to want to fuck me?”

“Stop,” Bucky groaned, thrusting faster.

“Because you’re not supposed to have your fat cock balls deep in my little pussy?”

A strangled noise left Bucky’s throat, and he threw you onto your back. You were disappointed, expecting him to finish himself over your stomach, but before you could even pout his was back inside you. If you thought he was needy before, this was frantic. He hugged your body tight to his, his feet scrambled against the sheets, looking for purchase so he could fuck you deeper.

He couldn’t string together a sentence anymore, but you no longer needed him to tell you how good he felt. You could feel it with each throb of his cock deep inside you.

“Can’t stop–” he gasped, and you grabbed his ass, pushing him deeper.

A hungry, desperate sound left his mouth, and you knew you had him.

“Give it to me,” you whispered in his ear. “Fuck my little pussy, daddy, it’s yours.”

Bucky’s hand gripped your ass hard as he shoved his cock as deep as it would go. His teeth bit your neck as he came. You yelped at the pain, but tangled your hand in his hair to keep him there.

His thrusts became more frantic at first as he fucked himself through his orgasm, but eventually he slowed, the static in his brain clearing just enough to speak again. You were both keenly aware that he’s still coming, fucking you slowly as he does.

“Fuck, such a good girl, taking it so well.”

All you could was whimper, entirely spent.

“Shh, it’s okay. You did so well for me.” Bucky kissed you gently, distracting you from the loss of his cock.

“Should have done it sooner,” you mumbled, and Bucky nipped your bottom lip.

“I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart. Promise.”

You were about to give a sarcastic answer when he deliberately pressed himself against your hip and your eyes went wide.

Bucky nodded, a cocky smile on his lips.

You lifted your head, looking down to confirm with your own eyes before flopping down onto the bed. “God, you’re a fucking wet dream.”

“You’re one to talk, kitten. Now let me take care of you so you can be good and ready for that round two you promised.”

Bucky squeezed your ass before leaving the bed, leading you to the shower.

His guilt was no longer present, completely replaced by fiery lust.

#bucky barnes smut #dbf!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #bucky x reader #mcu smut #fatws #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan smut #dilf bucky

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felice-jaganshi · 6 months

Text

His Fallen Apple

Lucifer X Reader

Chapter 7

This was it. The day you'd been waiting for. All seven Sins would be gathered in one place… everything needed to be perfect!

They had managed to convince Lucifer to join them on a trip to the beach in Levi's ring! They made a point of all hanging out together once every hundred years. But for the last 2 trips, Lucifer had bailed out, claiming he was too busy with Lilith and Charlie. This time, you had managed where the other's failed. By using the forbidden Puppy Dog eyes technique! And pointing out he hadn't shown you the beaches in hell yet, and you missed the ones in heaven.

He was desperate to please you, so of course you'd win this one! Bee helped you get a cute new swimsuit, something that would show off your best features, without being too revealing. As she felt too much would fry Lucifer's brain too soon.

“You gotta take it slow with him, he's a bit old fashioned.” She had said. And you couldn't help but agree, it was definitely part of his charm too.

You wore your swimsuit under your clothes to make changing easier when you got there.

When Lucifer came out of his room to get you, it took all of your willpower not to laugh! He was so cute! He wore a bright blue button up covered in rubber duckies, with khaki shorts, and flip-flops. Along with a pair of yellow sunglasses and a straw hat.

“Alright! I'll open a portal for us since the others are already waiting, you ready?” He asked, and you nodded, not trusting that a laugh wouldn't slip out. “Alright, let's go then!” He grinned and the two of you were there in an instant! It was a beautiful sight, you had all gathered midday so you could have a Barbecue and watch the sunset.

Fizz was the first to see you both and rushed over to snatch you up in a tight hug, “hey! How's my favorite sinner?!” You laugh and hug back.

“I'm doing good Fizzypop! How are you?”

He whispered in your ear, “Hey, Ozzie and I got a scheme for later, just go along with it okay?”

Now that had your attention! What were the boys scheming this time? You nod along and he lets go before dragging you over to see Bee and her boyfriend.

After a bit of socializing, everyone changed into their swimsuits, Luci's swim trunks being covered in apples was a surprise as you'd expected more ducks. But then he turned around and saw you and his wings popped out!

“Wowza! I- wow, you look great!” He was looking you up and down for a minute before shaking his head and putting his wings away. “I mean, you always look great! Aha, or um, hey let's go for a swim!” He summoned a giant duck shaped float ring and ran for the water with it.

Ozzie chuckled and made his way over to you, “You know, he's right. You do look amazing today. Maybe enough to finally catch his eye… Good choice, just enough to keep him wondering. And me too, if we're being honest.” He winked at you, and you squeaked in response.

“Ozzie! You- you have Fizzle! Don't start with me!” Your face was bright red.

“Oh don't get it twisted dear.” He leaned closer to your ear, “I'm gonna try to make Luci jealous, okay? This is all part of the plan. I'd never hurt my fizzy baby. He's in on this, don't worry.” You look over and fizz smiles and waves from over by the grill. He and Tex were setting it up for dinner later.

You relax and sigh, waving back with a smile before joining Lucifer and Bee in the water. She was trying to sink his duck floatie. So, it was up to you to “save” him.

______

A while later, you all had hotdogs together and were surprised how many Bee could put down for her frame! She ate like 40 without any problems! But, hey, she was the sin of gluttony. And Mammon had challenged her to an eating contest, which he lost at 32.

After a nice meal, and a beautiful sunset, Fizz put some music on and everyone started dancing. Levi dragged Lucifer into a dance before either of you could ask each other.

Asmodeus then approached you, holding out a hand. You smile and accept, without so much as a glance at Lucifer. He pulled you in close and the music changed.

Lucifer was finally freed from Levi right as he noticed Ozzie beginning to sing to you, he looked over with a confused smile at first.

“I can't believe we're finally alone, what are the chances, everyone's dancing and he's not with you~. Mmh mmh mmh.” He shook his head disapprovingly at this line.

“The universe must have divined this,

What am I gonna do, Not grab your wrist?

I could be a better boyfriend than him~.

I could do the shit he never did,

Up all night I won't quit.

Thinking I'm gonna steal you from him,

I could be such a gentleman.”

You caught a glimpse of Lucifer's face dropping and Ozzie spun you around, he looked shocked, maybe even hurt.

“I don't need to tell you twice,

All the ways he can't suffice,

If I could give you some advice,

I would leave with me tonight.”

Ozzie pulled you tight to his body, while Fizzarolli stood next to Lucifer putting on a show of being “heartbroken and lonely” now that Ozzie would have a new toy for the night.

“I never would have left you alone, for someone else to take you home.” Oz looked up at Lucifer with a smirk and wink, and that seemed to be the last straw!

He started marching over as Oz did one more run of the chorus, spinning you around and making you dizzy before suddenly you were pulled from his arms and your back was pressed to someone else's chest!

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #fallen apple #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #fallen angel

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boltupbitches · 1 month

Text

Three of Us

Part 6 of the Layla Herbert series

Part 1 - One Day at a Time

Part 2 - Today's the Day

Part 3 - Cheer's To Us

Part 4 - My Daughter Thinks I'm Ugly

Part 5 - Birthday Boy

At 10 months old, Layla Herbert was a delightful baby. With her cute gummy smile, and the dimples showing each time she grinned, and the green eyes from her dad, she was the center of her parents’ lives.

If there was one person who Layla had wrapped around her little finger, it was her dad. Justin was smitten with his daughter. The last 10 months, while difficult and tiring at times, were amazing. Honestly, he couldn’t picture his life without Layla or Alex. He definitely couldn’t picture living like he had before being a father.

However, what scared him a lot was having Layla out in public around football fans. He didn’t want fans approaching Alex and Layla. He certainly didn’t want internet trolls targeting his family or disgruntled opposing fans hurling abuse at them. Yet, with insistence from Alex, he caved and agreed for Layla to be brought one time to pre-season training. If anything to meet some of his teammates and coaching staff.

Jim, he learned, was a devoted family man and was particularly excited to meet the famous Layla.

“This her?” Jim asked as he approached Justin, who was holding his daughter. “Wow, look at that hair!” He grinned. “Hi there kiddo!”

Layla cooed at him and reached up to tap Justin on the face with her wet teething toy. She continued babbling for a few moments before showing a gummy smile to Jim.

“How does it feel to be a dad?” Jim asked with understanding in his eyes. “I’ve been around the block a few times with all of this.”

Justin chuckled at that. “It’s been nerve-wracking at times, but I love it. My fiance makes it so much easier because she just knows what needs to be done. I do my best to follow and make sure I’m doing my part as well. But, yeah…” He glanced at his daughter who was now transfixed with his shirt color. “I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Jim nodded. “It’s an amazing experience for sure. Challenging, but rewarding.”

They continued talking for a while until Layla suddenly squealed loudly and waved her arms excitedly at the sight of her mom approaching them.

“You are so loud.” Alex sighed dramatically before scooping her baby girl up into her arms. “You’ve been good for dada?” She wiped the drool from Layla’s cheek.

“Dadada,” Layla babbled, pointing at her dad who just stared back in amusement. She blew a raspberry loudly and then flopped against her mom’s shoulder as she continued to gnaw on her teething toy.

“Wow, that was quite a lot to say,” Alex said with amusement before turning to her fiance and his coach. “Nice to see you again, Jim. Hope you’re well.”

“Doing well, Mrs. Herbert.” Jim smiled. “Glad to see Herb Jr. here. I swear, you must have copied and pasted her from Justin.”

“Right?” Alex laughed and Justin’s face turned red. “She only has my hair color! She has her dad’s eye color, his smile, his eye shape, and his wavy hair.”

“She has your nose!” Justin pointed out. And he was right. When Layla smiled, her nose did the same scrunched-up motion as her mom. It was adorable to him.

“Well, regardless, she’s a mini-Justin for sure.” Alex teased and reached for Layla to give Justin a minute to talk to his coach.

“We’re fine,” Justin insisted. “Go get something to drink and when it’s time for me to head out on the field, I’ll bring her to you.”

Alex nodded and stepped forward to press a kiss to Layla’s cheek and then Justin’s. “Are you sure,” she asked, “I have no problem taking her with me.”

“It’s fine, honest.” Justin insisted, “I’m going to bring her around to meet some teammates.”

Alex nodded and headed out of the room to find Alohi’s girlfriend. Since becoming a mother, Alex had quietly met and bonded with some of the wives on the team who were mothers. Alohi’s girlfriend was a new mother and much like Alex, preferred to be low-key and private. They spent some time texting and talking about Aisina’s pregnancy. Now, so close to her delivery date, Aisina was having a tough go in her third trimester.

Justin loved the support his fiance showed to others. She was so caring to not only him and Layla, but both of their families, their friends, and even new acquaintances. Alex had a heart of gold and it carried through in the little things she did for others. From remembering how someone liked their coffee order to sending birthday cards to people, Justin loved that about her.

After Justin spoke a few more minutes with Jim, he parted ways to go see some of his teammates in the strength training room.

“Man, look at baby, Herbo!” “Damn, Justin, she looks just like you!” “Hi, baby Layla!”

Justin couldn’t contain his grin over the chorus of remarks from some of his teammates.

“She’s my baby.” He cooed at his daughter. And she was. Layla was the light of his life and he’d do anything to make her happy.

—-------

Adjusting her Chargers bucket hat, Justin made sure Layla’s shirt covered her shoulders and finished lathering her arms with sunscreen. If there was one thing Alex stressed, it was protecting baby Layla’s skin.

He lifted her high and pressed a big kiss to her cheek, chuckling at her delighted squeal. “Let’s go outside, Laylay.”

Justin cradled her against his chest, making sure her hat covered her head and obscured her face a bit. This was for two big reasons - the first was the SoCal sun bearing down on them and the second was overzealous fans and the media trying to snap a pic of his daughter.

Layla was kept largely private as per the wishes of Justin and Alex. No pictures of her were online and Justin and Alex made family and friends aware immediately that any pictures that got leaked to the media would be legal consequences. Of course, fans and the media knew Layla was born. The Chargers announced it last year, with a simple caption stating, ‘We’re excited to congratulate Justin Herbert on the healthy delivery of his daughter. The organization, on behalf of the Herbert family, asks for privacy at this time.’

It had caused a media frenzy as so few people even knew Justin had a girlfriend, let alone a pregnant one!

Keeping Layla tucked to him, he walked across the field towards some of his other teammates, glad Layla was happy with relaxing against her dad’s chest.

“You’re being such a good girl, Laylay.” He cooed softly to his daughter. “We’re going to have to get a treat after this for you. Maybe some yogurt…” he mumbled to himself.

The off-season was an exciting time for Justin - not just because of golf and hobbies he enjoyed, but introducing Layla to solid foods and figuring out what she liked was something he didn’t think he’d enjoy as much as he did.

He could remember when Alex had asked him, “Babe, did you order a Nutribullet baby blender?”

He had. And some baby food cookbooks. And quite a few other things as well that he justified in needing.

“Justin, we can cook the baby food ourselves with a steamer we already have. We don’t need all these extra gadgets except jars and lids.” Alex tried to reason. “Most of this is cash grab shit.”

Justin had his way in the end, and although a pretty logical man by many people’s standards, he was illogical when it came to providing for Layla. Patrick once joked, “Are you sure you’re not the mom of Layla?”

Justin gave him a stern look while others laughed at the table - including Layla who had no idea what the hell was even going on, only that everyone was happy.

Back to the present, Justin had made it over to Derwin who happily greeted him, his son next to him. “Herbo, you bring little Lay today?”

“Alex did. I knew she was coming though.” He shifted his daughter slightly, his eyes still scanning around him. Fans were far enough away, as were non-Chargers staff media, but still, he was paranoid.

Derwin glanced around as well, “I think you should be good, dude. I know why you’re protecting her though. Some people are too crazy out here and people online can be cruel.”

“Yeah,” Justin sighed, “I love football and I’m thankful for what I get to do, but that doesn’t mean I want my daughter plastered everywhere, or my fiance.”

“Nah I got you.” Derwin nodded. "The media is too much at times. Gotta protect the kids from it."

Layla shifted with a slight fuss before adjusting. Lifting her head slightly, she stared in curiosity at Derwin, who smiled back at her.

“Damn, did Alex’s genes even try? Cause that’s your twin.” Derwin joked before ducking slightly to smile at Layla, “Hi, Ms. Laylay. I’m your dada’s friend.”

She stared at him for a moment and then smiled slightly, burying her head in her dad’s shirt. “She’s shy sometimes,” Justin chuckled at his bashful daughter. “One minute she’s making a ton of noise and babbling, the next she’s as quiet as a church mouse.”

“Well, she’s adorable. When are you having Herbo #2?” Derwin joked.

“Oh God,” Justin winced, “I won’t even mention that to Alex. She’d kill me!” He laughed at the image in his head, imagining her reaction to him asking that. “Maybe in 3-4 years, when Layla starts kindergarten or something.”

Justin knew Alex wanted more kids someday down the road. He was the same. Yet, at this current moment in time, Layla was their one and only, and Justin was happy with just the three of them.

#justin herbert fanfiction #justin herbert fanfic #justin herbert imagines #justin herbert one shot

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euphreana · 6 months

Text

The Shape of Truth - Chapter 3: The Pink Phantom

Masterpost

Ambrosius was convinced he was seeing things. The stress of the day was getting to him. The punk teen who’d randomly appeared in his room continued to hold her hand out expectantly.

“I don't care.” He said in response to the greeting, “Just leave me alone.” He moved past the pink figure and flopped back onto his bed, eyes closed.

“Leave you alone? You look like you need all the help you can get!”

Ambrosius cracked his eyes open. The hallucination that had called itself ‘Nimona’ had her face inches away from his, upside down. She grinned.

“And luckily for you, I happen to be the perfect one for the job!”

Ambrosius narrowed his eyes. “What job?”

“Your new sidekick!”

Ambrosius groaned and rubbed his eyes. Was his brain trying to create an imaginary friend to fill the void Bal had left behind? When Ambrosius opened his eyes again, the teen had disappeared. Good. Then the same voice cut in again from atop a shelving unit.

“Don’t bother to fill me in, I saw everything.”

“What?” Ambrosius sat up, seeing Nimona now lounging on the shelves.

“It was a beautiful scheme!” She said.

Ambrosius blinked, and Nimona was suddenly spinning on the easy chair across the room.

“Assassination of a monarch, the kingdom thrown into complete and utter chaos, it would have been perfect, if only he’d made his daring escape! But don’t worry! This is just half-time - you can still finish what he started!”

“Finish w—” Ambrosius began, but suddenly found a sheaf of papers whirled into his hands. “What’s this?”

“My resume!”

Ambrosius glanced at the papers. There was no text; just crayon drawings of all manner of animals rampaging through piles of royal guards.

“… This is—”

“Awesome, isn’t it? I thought a visual aid would really make it POP!”

Ambrosius looked up from the papers to see Nimona sitting on the dresser.

“Sooo… what’s the plan, boss?”

Ambrosius stared at her for a long moment.

“What are you supposed to be exactly? Some repressed memory?”

The teen huffed and hopped off the dresser. “I told you - I’m Nimona.”

“Okay… Nimona. I’m tired and don’t want to deal with this right now.”

“Oh, oh sure, I get it. Still getting over your buddy’s death. Got it. Just let me know when you’re ready to move on to the next stage of the plan.”

Ambrosius shoved the papers back into her hands.

“There is no plan. Bal is…” He locked his jaw, willing the tears to go away.

“That’s not going to stop you though, right? The man must be avenged!”

Ambrosius was about to respond when he heard a knock at the door. He hoped the noise was real this time.

He opened the door. It was Captain Ironwill; a burly man with black hair.

“Captain.” Ambrosius greeted him.

“Goldenloin.” Ironwill nodded. “I heard about what happened at the execution. They’re giving you tomorrow off.”

Ambrosius lowered his gaze. “Thanks.”

“I tried to get you full bereavement leave, but you weren’t legally related.” Ironwill’s voice dropped slightly. “I’m sorry. I know you were close. At least he didn’t drag you into it.”

Ambrosius nodded.

Ironwill continued, “Nice choice of color.”

Ambrosius looked up. Ironwill was looking past him, into the room. Ambrosius turned around. There was a pink cat sitting on the bed wearing a vest labeled ‘Emotional Support’. Ambrosius stared at it mutely.

Ironwill acknowledged Ambrosius again and left. Ambrosius stood in the doorway, still staring at the cat.

The cat spoke up, “What? Not a cat person?”

Ambrosius sputtered, then turned to the open door behind him. The hallway outside was empty.

“Good Gloreth I’m going crazy…” he muttered, shutting the door.

“Come again?” Ambrosius turned back to see Nimona sitting cross-legged where the cat had been. Definitely a hallucination, and one he was tired of.

“How do I make you go away?”

Nimona shrugged and got up, bouncing on the bed a few times. “Same time tomorrow?”

“No.”

“Morning?”

Ambroisus rubbed his eyes. Anything to make her leave.

“Fine. Just go.”

“Got it, boss!”

When he opened his eyes again, there was a pink bird perched on the windowsill.

“Tomorrow!” the bird said, then took off, leaving him alone in his room. Finally.

“Gloreth please don’t let this happen again.” Ambrosius said to himself, falling back onto his bed. He didn’t want to end up in the psych ward.

~ ~ ~

The front office was surprised to see Ambrosius when he went in early the next morning.

“Didn’t someone tell you to take the day off?” the receptionist said.

Ambrosius remembered the stress hallucination from the day before. Or had it been a vision of the future?

“Oh… Yeah, I forgot.” he stammered.

Ambrosius left the building, wondering what it was that had happened yesterday.

“THERE you are!” a familiar voice broke into his thoughts. It was that Nimona hallucination, except this time she’d taken the form of a large, pink dog, again wearing the emotional support vest.

Ambrosius groaned.

“You again…”

“Me again! I thought the longer legs would make it easier to keep up.” The dog waved a paw. “So what’s the plan for today? Or should we… discuss things somewhere private?”

Ambrosius wondered if ignoring Nimona would make her go away. He didn’t want to be seen talking to an imaginary friend, although there wasn’t really anyone to see - it was early enough that hardly anyone was out on the campus.

“Whatever.” he mumbled and started the walk to a nearby tea shop.

“What better place to hide than in the open. I like that.” Dog-Nimona winked and followed alongside, “I thought up some ideas for revenge - it looks like the director was the one who ordered the execution, so I was thinking we-”

“I’m not taking revenge. For all I know… Bal was guilty.”

“No duh! I saw him fire the… wait, are you saying that wasn’t part of the plan?”

“What? No! Why would I- I wasn’t- I don’t even know if-”

“Oh….” The dog suddenly looked disappointed. It was a look Ambrosius had always dreaded seeing. Was even his subconscious disappointed with him?

The dog spoke up again.

“So you’re not a villain?”

“No!”

“But he was, right?”

“I don’t—”

“Well someone is. So why don’t we find out who?” Nimona hurried in front of Ambrosius, now walking backwards so she could see his face. “We dig - we find out if your buddy was behind the plot, and if he wasn’t, we find out who was. And we take revenge!”

“Revenge?”

“So what leads do you have? Assuming you’ve already been looking into this. Searched his belongings for clues?”

“Everything got confiscated or thrown out.”

“Huh. Anything else of his?”

“I don’t know… they have his sword in the archives.”

“Then off to the archives we go!” Nimona began to trot on ahead.

It didn’t sound like a bad idea, but Ambrosius wondered why his subconscious would be so focused on revenge. He’d been taught the pitfalls of seeking revenge since he was young - the right thing to do was forgive and move on. But… he did want to know if his dead boyfriend had been a murderer or not. He needed to know if what they’d had had been real. What if the Institute had missed something in their assessment of the situation and there was someone else involved? The authorities didn’t know Bal like he did, and stuff wasn’t adding up…

The imaginary dog had charged ahead, but now it was looking back at him with pleading puppy eyes, wagging its tail.

“Aren't you coming?”

Well, since this was basically his own advice, he might as well follow it.

Chapter 4

#nimona #the shape of truth

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samlacy · 1 year

Text

Sunsets at the beach

(red dots I fell in love with)

“I wanna be yours, only yours”

Silence hit his face, not a good one.

“I can’t, I’m sorry”

Wind was swaying through the empty beach, causing small waves to move by each few seconds.

The Sun was at its lowest almost as the sky turned orange by the second.

Giggles and the splashing of waves were the only sounds to be heard.

You were running the best you could through the sand, flip flops in your hands as your towel was around your neck. The pair of swimming shorts were matching with your top. Black with red dots.

Hobie’s favorite colors. Perhaps the guy that was chasing you through the whole beach, the guy that made you laugh so much at the moment.

As you looked back at him, with no intention you tripped over something unknown and fell right on the soft sand. You were on your fours and you heard the footsteps behind you stop, the silence broken off with a loud laugh from Hobie.

You giggled with him as you turned around and sat on your butt while facing the ocean with the sun.

Hobie smiled and decided to sit right next to you, oddly close enough for you to hear his heavy breathing.

“That was quite a run, right?” you joked as you tilted your head back, eyes closed, and sighed.

The smile never left.

Hobie chuckled. His eyes drifted towards you and inspected you one by one. Up and down. You looked angelic, the most beautiful person he ever saw probably.

To his surprise you turned your head to him, catching him in the act of looking at you. Hobie looked away to his front, arms resting on his knees as he fidgeted with the towel in his hands.

Now you were the one chuckling at him as you smiled to yourself.

“Look! The sun is setting”, he mentioned, pointing his finger towards the waves.

You looked and awed at the beauty. It truly did feel unreal, like a dream. All of this felt like a dream.

“So pretty”, you muttered, lips shaping an ‘o’.

“Not as pretty as you”

Wait, what?

“What?”, you asked with widened eyes as you looked towards him.

“What?”, Hobie replied, avoiding eye contact on purpose as he fixated his eyes to the front.

“Nothing”, you mumbled and looked back to the waves, trying to ignore the fact you might have heard Hobie call you pretty.

The past minutes passed like this. Listening to waves hit the end, splashes of water, birds chirping and a few cars pass by from the road behind them.

“Did you ever come here with someone?”, You decided to ask Hobie, to ease up the tension that for some reason was there.

“No, you are the first one actually”, he admits as he forms a smile on his face.

You ‘oh’d and enjoyed the wind hitting your face, cooling your body down each second. You didn’t expect much from this hangout, ready to go home soon and then meet up Hobie again for—

“I’m saying, I like you”

—another hangout.

Did you hear that right? Like seriously? Was your tinnitus now speaking to you..

“What”, the amount of times you said that today was immaculate, but it could bother you less since you heard Hobie say something totally strange.

He gathered up his breathe, trying his best to maintain his control “I like you, genuinely. Do you feel the same?”

Do you? On a serious note, do you?

Yes, you do. But were you ready for a relationship? Absolutely not.

Communication was the hardest thing for you, not only now, always.

“No, I don’t”, it came out more harsh than you have expected it to. Were you seriously crazy? What now.

“Oh, right”, sigh “Well, it was really a nice time with you while it lasted”

You heard the way Hobie tried his best to hold back the tears from completely bursting. He still was not looking at you, even when he stood up and decided to leave.

Your body froze, you couldn’t move an inch. No words were leaving your mouth anytime soon. This all ended, only because of your choice of words.

It really did, didn’t it?

You felt wet tears roll down your cheeks with no intention to. You didn’t know why nor when it started.

But you knew it was not gonna end anytime soon.

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cyber--raven · 1 year

Text

My OOAK Frollo doll, start to finish...

Just thought I’d upload the entire process here; sorry if it seems repetitive of me, as I have posted pictures of this here before. It’s more so for my own record really, as it’s just super easy and convenient to put on multiple images onto one post here, or anyone who’s interested.

Please note this is for my newest version, I have made others in the past using different doll bodies, fabric and head sculpts- some turned out better, some not, but all part of the experimenting, construction process.

Body: A Monster High Deuce Gorgon doll. I chose this because of the good articulation, good hand sculpts and it is the right size body to fit my head sculpts. Had to just trim the head peg and stabilize it by wrapping some string coated in PVA glue around it, as the weight of the head makes it flop down otherwise. It doesn’t have as much head movement as it used to, but it does have a little.

In hindsight, one wonders if could be attached with magnets somehow, perhaps, but not sure. In the end it was attached with hot glue.

Head sculpts. I ended up using the one of the left. Made from super sculpey clay. The one on the right was originally on a different body, hence the different skin colour to match.

Purple trousers/Hose - made from purple stretch fabric- the same material used in swimwear.

I kept the top which came with the Monster High doll, as it has a nice brocade sort of pattern on it. I just dyed it purple, and made and attached the purple sleeves. Lets face it, no one knows wtf he wears under there,

Tricky part, the shoulder-piece.

Black velvet fabric with red braid /edging cord, and red ribbon stripes for the pauldron stripes. Back-piece of the purple stretch fabric. On the underside I made a pocket in which I inserted craft wire to hold the shape.

Finished with adding black cord around the edges to neaten it up, and glued on two red diamonds adhesive plastic craft jewels.

At this point I also made the white collar, the square shaped top sewn on. The circular base is so it stays in place. And also sort of resembles the collar and bib worn by nuns. Frollo Wasn’t a priest in the animated version that Disney did, but they sure sneaked in some clerical looking attire.

And Finally...

I has dagger too.

#frollo #disney #disneyvillian #ooakdoll #ooakfrollodoll #art #craft #judgefrollo #the hunchback of notre dame #my artwork #claudefrollo #disneyedit #toys and figures #toy photography

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bbyquokka · 2 years

Note

Hi 🧡

I have been up in my Han feels lately so I was thinkin....👉👈

A fic with soft subby Han obsessed with your tits. Maybe he's worn out after work and comes back and just wants to be taken care of. So he just lies down on you or sits in your lap and just plays with your tits as you make him feel good. You try to tease him a lil but he gets so upset and you just go soft for him 🥲 Just need more soft fics with subby han 💕

boobies

SMUT BELOW CUT - MINORS, AGELESS AND DEFAULT BLOGS; DNI

warning: fem reader, soft dom reader, sub jisung, breast play, "baby girl" jisung, sub space jisung, finger sucking, oral fixation, handjob, jisung is desperate and is a boobie enthusiast words: 1.3k ~ (1301)

dont repost. dont translate. feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

han jisung who is obsessed with your tits. he's obsessed with tits in general, no matter the shape or size. there's just something about the way they look and feel that tickles his fancy.

in other words, jisung loves and adores tits so much, he could orgasm just from playing with them.

he drags his tired body into the apartment, dragging his heavy legs towards you. he flops down on your lap, legs either side as he straddles you. you laugh softly as you watch him tug at your tee, indicating he wants off.

“baby.” you hum, stroking his soft, pouty lips

“boobs please.” he whines, tugging impatiently.

“are you not going to tell me about your day, sungie?” he shakes his head no, the pout still on his soft lips. his eyes turn doe like as he looks at you, eyes glossy.

“want boobies.”

“do you want to be taken care of, sungie? play with my boobs whilst i take care of you?” jisung nods his head fast, his eyes and face lightening up as he watches you strip yourself of your t-shirt. he licks his lips at the sight of your soft, round breasts, watching them bounce a little due to the impact of your t-shirt being pulled up.

“fuck..” he whispers, arm extending to grab your breast. you slap his hand away gently, jisung looking up at you as his bottom lip quivers.

“you know the rules.” he bites his bottom lip gently, shuffling on your lap.

“please yn.” he whimpers, “please let me play with your boobs..”

“have you been a good boy, sungie?” you coo, running your finger along his jawline slowly causing him to tremble from your touch. it sends shockwaves down his spine before surrounding his balls and cock, which is currently strained against his jeans.

“yes! yes yes yes! i've been a good boy. always a good boy for you.” he begs, high pitched whimpers emitting from the back of his throat. you find pure amusement in this. you're sat, bare chest with your boyfriend begging to touch the one thing he loves the most. you want to tease him some more, push him over the edge until he is sobbing

but you'll save that for a different day.

you hum, giving him the go ahead. he groans, excitedly grabbing your soft breast. he whimpers as he kneads the soft flesh in the palm of his hand. he becomes fixated on the way your breasts move in the palm of his hands, how your nipples become erect.

he shifts on your lap, his fingertips brushing against your hard nipple causing you to groan softly. you push his hair away from his eyes, watching as his pupils blow out with lust and hunger. he lips his lips slowly, his saliva coating the skin and making them glisten.

he takes your nipple between his thumb and finger, gently squeezing and tugging. his eyes flicker up to you, watching the way your brows knit together as pain mixed with pleasure washes over your body.

“are you enjoying this, baby girl?” you hum. he lets out a high pitched whimper at the sound of his nickname. it sounds so sweet, so innocent; a stark contrast of what he is.

“love it. i love your boobs so much yn.” jisung pants, his round cheeks holding a nice pink flush.

“if you love them so much, why are you not kissing them? playing with them some more? i know you have an oral fixation, sungie.” you hum, pushing two fingers past his parted lips. "i know you like to suck on things." jisung shivers, his hands trembling.

“suck.” it's a simple statement, but to jisung, it sets his body on fire. his lips wrap around your fingers. his tongue swirls around the digits as he suckles on your fingers. you caress his cheeks and tongue, watching your boyfriend's mind slowly turn hazy.

his cock hurts. his underwear is sticky with his pre cum that's free flowing from his slit, the material of his underwear soaking up each drop of it. with your free hand, you press your palm against his erect cock, a throat moan vibrating in his chest.

he feels saliva accumulating in his mouth, deciding to just let it spill past the corners of his lips. you hum, watching and feeling your boyfriend buck his hips against the palm of your hand.

you pull your fingers out off his mouth slowly, jisung diving in between your breasts to take your nipple in between his teeth. he licks, nibbles and tugs the bud, alternating between the two.

he's panting heavily. pleasure fogging his mind, making him feel weak and submissive. he'd do anything for you at this moment in time, he wants you so bad.

you unbutton his jeans, slowly pulling down the zip. you press the curve of your fingernail against the slit of his cockhead, jisung whimpering against the soft flesh of your breasts as his thighs shake.

“please..” he whispers, tears slowly accumulating. “please dont tease me.”

“why not baby girl?” you coo, head tilting to the side.

“had a bad day.. want to forget about today and be taken care of..” he mumbles, feeling a wave of sudden shyness wash over him. you mentally awe at the soft boy, feeling a little sorry for him.

“but you like it when i tease you.” you say, thumb rubbing his soaked tip through his boxer shorts.

“y-yes.” he shakily pants out “but want you to indulge in me.. want to – ah fuck.. want to, indulge in you. be taken care of by you.” he moans softly, his eyes fluttering shut.

“you really are so adorable. how can i say no when you look and sound like that?” you hum, pulling his cock out from his restraints. he immediately bucks his hips in your hand as you wrap it around his cock, slowly pumping him and watching his pre cum spill from his slit.

“fuck..” he groans, his hands squeezing and kneading your tits. he dips his head again, sucking the skin around your nipples to leave bruises behind. he bites your nipple gently, using the tip of his tongue to flick along the bud all whilst fucking himself in your hand.

“fuck fuck fuck.” he repeats over and over again. “so good.. so fucking good..” he babbles. “more.. want more. need more.”

“so cute.” you lick your lips, kissing the top of his head. “you're so cute when your like this. a desperate, needy sub who's body is just on autopilot.”

you gently grab a fist full of his hair, pulling so his head tilts up to look at you. his lips glossy, face stained with tears and saliva. his cheeks hold a nice red colour whilst his eyes are doe like, nothing but lust and desperation evident in them.

“you're just chasing your high, aren't you baby girl?” he nods fast. his mind is too far gone. your words are nothing more than faint, fuzzy sounds. his hips working on their own, hands groping at your breasts.

“cum..” he chokes out. “gonna cum.” you hum as a response, watching the way his muscles spasm and empty moans leave his lips. his hot, sticky fluid lands on your stomach and hand, jisung continuing to fuck himself in your hand. he lets out sobs, tears falling down his cheeks as he looks up at you as his cock remains hard, oversensitivity getting the better of him.

but he can't stop. he feels too good. his heart thumping, mind hazy. he wants more, so much more.

“can't.. not enough. hurts, still hard.” he sobs. you stroke his cheek gently, wiping away his tears.

“shh darling, it's ok. i will take good care of you, don't you worry.”

note: uh, sub jisung for the win? 👀🙊 i didnt intend for it to be this long but uh, its sub jisung so urm, yeahhhh... anyways; don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i’d love to hear your thoughts ‹3

tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @myprwttyhan ; @writerracha ; @septicrebel ; @bbujiikseu ; @cixrosie ; @alyszaen ; @hyunluvxo

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bunisher · 5 months

Text

a burning flame

Before, it was just passing fascination from the way his hands created something so melodic. It was just Matt being another New Yorker who appreciated music, being an animal lover who couldn’t leave his dog out when it sat patiently next to its owner, but things have changed. The mysterious guitarist has a name and Max is his companion.

Frank Castle is an entire person to him now—his client—and Matt is no less fascinated.

pairing: frank castle/matt murdock

rating: E

status: WIP (1/3)

tags: alternate universe – no powers, divorced frank castle/maria castle, parent frank castle, lawyer matt murdock, guitarist frank castle, slow burn, eventual smut, angst with a happy ending

warnings: minor violence, implied/reference homophobia, implied/referenced child abuse

current word count: 17.8k

author: redswhiskey

Damp air kisses Matt’s cheek as Foggy shuts the door behind the three of them, the keys in his best friend’s hand a sharp jingle piercing the noise of the street until he shoves them into his pocket. He steps off onto the ground, does a precautionary sweep of his cane, and feels the irriguous cement beneath his shoes.

His city envelops him like a hug. There’s a group of men laughing down the street and as he turns, a woman passes them by, on the phone and telling someone she’ll be home soon. An engine sputters, a radio blasting along with it while a helicopter veers overhead, and out of it all, a familiar sound of a guitar.

“Ready?” Karen asks beside him. Her heels clack a few times as she walks forward, but then hesitates. “Foggy?”

No response.

“Fogs?”

Foggy hums this time in acknowledgement, fingers typing away on his phone with the telltale click click sound of the keyboard on. His fingers continue tapping, only pausing when he almost falls off the bottom step, loafers skidding against the slick concrete.

“Yeah, sorry.” He sighs. “My phone is now in my pocket. Marci asked me to pick up some eggs on the way home, so don’t let me forget.”

“Of course, we don’t want a repeat of last time,” Matt tells him over the squeal of a car’s breaks while they head down the sidewalk. “What was she going to make, again?”

“Quiche,” Foggy answers, a groan punctuating his words. Matt can’t see him, but he knows he’s looking up at the sky because then his arms flop down next to his body with a smack. Karen giggles beside him. “She was going to make quiche and I still haven’t gotten the opportunity.”

“We got you this time, don’t worry.” Karen says lightheartedly as he grumbles.

Matt chuckles from his place in between the two—he’s never had quiche, maybe he should try it—and lets himself fall a few steps behind as a familiar tune gets closer. A guilty pleasure of his is that when he’s alone, he walks as slow as possible without it seeming too obvious when he hears it. Allows the rhythmic tap of his cane to intertwine with the melodic strums as if he has any musical bone in his body.

He fishes out a few crumpled bills from his pocket and a small, bone shaped treat that he keeps a bag of in his office for this specific purpose. The snores and pants of the dog draw nearer while Foggy and Karen’s conversation shifts to the background with some classic rock guitar cover overlaying it.

The music reaches its peak, the blurry shadow of the guitarist drawing nearer, and Matt holds out the money with the dog treat folded inside.

A small squeak from the guitar happens before, “Thanks, Red,” comes from the man on the bench and it’s taken from his hand, fingertips barely ghosting his own.

“Of course, have a nice night.” He chuckles as he walks away.

The music starts again. “You too!”

(click here to continue reading)

#frankmatt #fanfic #matt murdock x frank castle #frank castle x matt murdock #my fic #ao3 #fratt #castledevil #wip #ao3: rw #ao3 fanfic

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anxiousgaypanicking · 11 months

Text

Oreo

Synopsis: As a joke, Roman's forced to ask Virgil out after losing an oreo. Flustered, and somewhat embarrassed and humiliated by the connotation that dating him would be such a bad thing, he says yes out of impulse, and must now deal with what being Roman's "boyfriend" entails. Taglist: @renys @falsemood

Part Six: Sleepover Masterlist

"We'll be right there!" comes an excited response, with the sound of fast footsteps following suit Mere minutes later, two men come sprinting down the stairs, the shorter of the two nearly tripping on the bottom step. The taller of the two greets Roman with a big hug, though compared to Roman’s might build he looked just as small as the other.

“Who’s that?” the shorter one asks, smiling softly but keeping his distance.

Roman smiles wide, and his arm moves to be wrapped around Virgil’s waist. “This is my boyfriend! Virgil.” Roman gently wiggles Virgil back and forth, and Virgil’s face flushes dark. “Virgil, these are my dads: Bruce and David.”

David - the shorter one - offers up a small wave, while Bruce smiles.

“It’s nice to meet you, Virgil!” Bruce exclaims, as he reaches his hand out for Virgil to take. Virgil’s fingers feel crushed by Bruce’s firm grip. “I hope Roman’s been treating you right.” He backs up after, and waves them further into the house. Virgil and Roman follow them to the living room. While Bruce leads the way, David lags behind.

“How’d you two get together?” he asks, walking side-by-side with Virgil. Between the two, David looked more like Roman. Tanner skin and darker hair, with the same nose and eye shape. Though, Virgil notes he shares Remus’s birthmark; a white streak runs through his hair.

Roman glances at Virgil, and then vaguely answers “a game.”

"A stupid one,” Virgil clarifies, as he pulls away from Roman’s hold. “One that exists to make people feel bad.” He glares at Roman, who avoids his eyes.

Bruce lets out a laugh, as he gets settled on a nice, big couch. David settles next to him, leaning against Bruce and intertwining their hands, letting Virgil see the matching wedding bands.

“Most games are like that,” Bruce says, before turning to David. “Remember when we were kids, and were playing spin the bottle at Karen’s sixteenth birthday party?”

David smiles, but Roman looks uncomfortable. “Yeah, of course I do. And how when she spun the bottle, it landed on me.”

"I swear she was cheating!” Bruce interjects. “But when she went to kiss you, you chickened out. Boy, was she mad!”

Roman lets out a sigh, as he grabs Virgil’s arm and gently guides them away from his now reminiscing parents. He leads Virgil up the very steps his parents descended, and down a beautifully decorated hallway. There are plenty of family pictures featuring the four; with David and Bruce standing happily behind the twins, but Virgil notes there are none of them as children. Only as teenagers.

Roman turns into a room, and leaves the door open behind them, before flopping onto his bed.

Virgil steals a second to look around the massive space. The walls were bright white, with the trimming being painstakingly painted gold. He has a king sized bed with red bedsheets, and a plethora of fluffy pillows that are a mixture of gold and white. A massive flatscreen television sits directly across from the bed, and his dressers and end tables are lined with trophies and clay figurines, clearly homemade but equally as impressive.

Along with the figurines, there were also some canvases and framed art pieces hanging up.

His eyes then settle back on Roman, who’s been watching Virgil analyze his room. Virgil looks away as soon as he’s caught, but Roman chuckles.

“If you’re about to ask if you can lay on my bed, my answer is yes, so long as I can lay beside you,” Roman coos, playfully, which has Virgil huffing as he sets his bag heavily on the floor.

“No thanks. I’ll sit on the floor.”

Roman laughs, as he sits up, making grabby hands at Virgil. “I’m just messing around. Feel free to come sit. Or look around, if you want. Just don’t break anything.”

Virgil gives a small smile. “I won’t.”

He does circle around the room, studying each painting and picture decorating the wall in hopes it would reveal anything about Roman. Once again, Virgil only sees family pictures post childhood, with hardly any even featuring Roman’s friends from school.

Then, he moves to Roman’s bed, and settles down on it. Though, he makes sure to keep his distance from Roman.

Roman turns onto his side, using his arms to cradle his head as he stares at Virgil. “Do you want me to turn on a movie or something?” he asks, watching as Virgil leans back against the pillows, and then turns to bury his face in them. The mattress and pillows were extremely comfortable, and Virgil could feel his body sinking into them.

A muffled response is all Roman gets, so he clicks on a movie anyway. Virgil can’t help but groan when he hears the Disney jingle, already picturing the castle sliding onto screen and lighting up with fireworks.

Virgil’s arms slide under one of Roman’s pillows, reaching towards the cool fabric with a soft, comfortable sound. It didn’t matter what Roman put on; he wasn’t watching the movie anyway. He buries his face deep into the pillow, and lets himself stretch out and relax.

Somehow, his eyes relax, shutting, as he lets himself linger in a half-sleep state, before his mind eventually fades to black.

***

It was near midnight when Virgil finally stirs. He feels the bed shift, waking him up fully as he shoots up, wide-eyed and startled. He even jumps when he sees Roman, who’s leaning over onto the bed from a pallet made of loose blankets and pillows on the floor.

It takes him a few minutes to remember where he’s at, as Roman gently sets his hand atop his.

“Calm down,” Roman says softly, though there’s a hint of playfulness in his voice. “It’s just me.”

“Shit,” Virgil immediately curses, as he stifles a yawn. He feels around for his phone which has promptly slipped out of his pocket, and checks the time. More profanity spills from his lips when he sees the time.

“Fuck. I didn’t…” Virgil rubs his eyes, pausing to reevaluate his sentence, before sighing and slumping over, resting his head in his hands. “I didn’t mean to just come over and fall asleep. I’m sorry.”

Roman smiles and shakes his head. “It’s fine, mi amado.”

“I don’t speak ‘asshole,’” Virgil bitterly responds, narrowing his eyes at Roman, though it’s hard to look threatening as he lets out another yawn. “What’d you say?”

“I didn’t say anything bad, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“But what’d you say?” Virgil presses, but he’s ignored and laughed at as Roman lets out a soft chuckle, causing Virgil to groan.

“You’re a bitch.”

Roman raises his eyebrows, before sassily responding “ I’m not the one barking out orders.”

Virgil frowns and immediately moves to grab one of Roman’s pillows and toss it at him. Roman leans back onto his pallet in an attempt to dodge the pillow, but it misses horribly anyway.

Roman laughs, before he lets out a sigh. “My parents said you could stay the night if you wanted, as it’s already late anyway, but if you’d rather go home I can drive you.”

Virgil thinks for a moment, checking the time once again. A quarter past midnight.

He sighs, and shakes his head. “No thanks. I’d rather stay here.” As he looks towards Roman, he sees the latter’s raised eyebrows and skeptical, playful look on his face, which immediately has Virgil feeling embarrassed and defensive.

“Not because I like you!” Virgil’s quick to add, with a huff. “Or your fancy-ass house! I’m just too tired to tolerate spending ten minutes in a car with you. Especially this late at night!”

“But spending the next seven hours in my bedroom is a different story?”

Virgil crosses his arms over his chest. “Is there a comfy bed in your car? Didn’t think so.”

Roman laughs, and Virgil stiffens at the sound, before he’s crawling to the end of the bed and swinging his legs over the side. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor, Roman. I was just kidding about the bed; I can sleep on the pallet.”

Roman immediately shakes his head. “No. I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.” Roman leans onto his mattress, crossing his arms and laying his head atop them as he stares up at Virgil with those gorgeous, lush-green eyes. “You already napped in my bed; you might as well just sleep in it too.”

“I doubt I’ll be able to go back to sleep. I’ve already slept so much.”

“I’ll stay up with you then. I’m wide awake.” Roman smiles, and Virgil finally has to tear his eyes away from him and look at something else.

“Good,” he responds, after a moment. “You’ll provide nice entertainment. You are a clown, after all.”

Laughing, Roman asks “are you only able to insult me?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, in that case, I retract every nice thing I’ve ever said about you.” Roman sticks his tongue out childishly, and then grins wide, but Virgil just looks back at him, smiling, but with furrowed brows.

“The fact you’ve said anything nice about me at all astounds me.”

"Why?"

Virgil shrugs, a half-hearted smile on his face. “Because I’m not that easy to compliment. It’s not that hard to see, Roman.”

“I disagree,” Roman says, almost immediately, sitting up a little more seriously. “I could compliment like… ten different attributes of yours right now.”

Virgil raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips. "Doubt it."

“Oh?” Roman begins, leaning upwards. “Is that a challenge? Don’t tempt me, Virgil; I’m incredibly competitive.”

“You’re not competing with anybody-”

“Your bangs look soft and pretty hanging over your eyes, but I wish those beautiful irises weren’t so hidden. Your eyes are so dark they’re black, and are intensified by your makeup, which, while unusual, shapes your face well and pulls attention to your eyes overall. I’ve never seen someone with such an intense, alluring stare.” Roman speaks poetry into the air, and leans even closer to Virgil as he continues.

“You know how to dress your body. Maybe I’m biased because skinny jeans are form-fitting, but you always look good. It’s certainly a statement, but one you’re not afraid to make. And black nails really suit you.”

Virgil’s fingers flex, his nail polish chipped.

“And your voice…” Roman sighs, fluttering his eyelashes dramatically. “You speak primarily with your lower jaw, making you look passive despite the often biting undertones. But there’s usually a lot of emotion. If not in your voice, in your words . You’re passionate about things, and are quick to defend them. Like your friends, and yourself.”

Roman holds seven fingers up, but he’s nowhere near done.

As Virgil’s hands dig into the sheets, Roman moves closer, adding “you’re smart, and exceed in your classes, even if you don’t tend to participate in group discussions. I’ve seen some of your tests being passed back. You always have upwards of eighty, while most others have seventy or less.” Then, Roman smiles, cheekily. “And try as you might, I see you doodle on your paper during class, or even on your hand with a marker. It always looks deep and interesting.” Roman takes Virgil’s hand, and pulls his arm closer, thumbing over his forearm where barely noticeable marker stains persist; little marks that Virgil didn’t even know were still visible. One would have to look hard to notice the darker splotches of skin.

“You should show off your art more,” Roman says, softly. “I’m something of an artist myself. I’d appreciate it.”

Virgil ignores him, instead breathing out “and… the last one?”

He reaches to grab one of Roman’s pillows, squeezing it against his chest in anticipation as he looks over Roman’s nine fingers. There’s silence for a moment, before Roman grins, and sits back on his knees, clearly not intending to share the last one aloud.

When Virgil realizes this, he huffs out “you’re such a jerk!” and then tosses the pillow he grabbed at Roman, this one getting closer, but still missing and landing on the pallet behind him.

“Stop throwing all my pillows at me!” Roman laughs, as he tries to grab and hand the one just thrown back to Virgil. “You’re not going to have any to sleep with!”

“You have plenty up here. I have many spares I can use to hit you in the face.”

“You couldn’t hit me if we were standing chest-to-chest,” Roman insists, snickering. “Hell, I’m like five feet away from you and you’ve missed twice!”

“Third time’s the charm,” Virgil mutters, as he lays back down, and then tosses and turns in the sheets. His smile fades to a more neutral expression, before he turns to face Roman, looking over the side of the bed.

“Roman?”

Roman, who’s laid back on the pallet, stretched out and arms behind his head, looks back up at Virgil, responding with a sweet “yes?”

“I’m bored.”

“You’re bored?”

Virgil huffs out a laugh, before elaborating “I’m bored. Let’s go on a walk.”

Roman raises an eyebrow. “So, let me get this straight, you’re not willing to be driven home this late at night, but you’re perfectly fine taking a walk?” He shakes his head. “That makes no sense.”

“I’m complicated,” Virgil muses, which earns a laugh from Roman.

“No,” he then responds, shaking his head with a hum. “No, I don’t think you’re complicated. I think you’re trying to be subtle.” His smile stretches into a more devious smirk. “I think you just secretly want to stay here with me, and that’s why you don’t want to go home.” Roman leans up, and his fingertips dance over Virgil’s, as Virgil’s arm hangs off the bed. “Just admit you enjoy spending time with me.”

Virgil lets out a groan, and very quickly grabs another pillow, and throws it down. This one smacks Roman right in the face, leaving Roman to let out a muffled “humphf!”

As Virgil snickers, Roman groans, and pulls the pillow off his face.

“Ugh! I’d be safer taking you on a walk than staying in here,” he jests, playfully. “At least there are no pillows for you to throw outside.”

“There are rocks.”

Roman narrows his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Virgil sits up, and slides off the bed, landing on his knees at Roman’s side. “You’d really consider taking me on a walk, though?”

“Of course,” Roman responds, immediately. “Why wouldn’t I? You ask, and you shall receive, my wonderful boyfriend!” Roman makes teasing kissy noises at Virgil, who immediately lets out a noise of disgust and scrambles away.

Virgil shudders, as though Roman grossed him out to his core. Sternly, he declares “don’t do that.” Roman smiles.

He stands himself, and grabs Virgil’s hand, as he leads him out of his room. There’s a dim light on in the room next to Roman’s, but it’s ignored as Roman pulls him down the stairs and through the living room. Both of them are quiet, out of respect for Roman’s dads, as they slip out the front door.

Quietly, Roman leads Virgil a little down the sidewalk, before he squeezes Virgil’s hand and smiles.

“Alright,” Roman starts, his breath fogging due to the cool night’s air. “Anyplace specific you’d like to go?”

Virgil takes a moment to answer, before whispering “anywhere you want to take me.”

“Then we’ll just walk wherever the sidewalk takes us,” Roman decides, pulling Virgil forward.

They walk slowly side by side, Roman humming a soft tune that sounds suspiciously like a rendition of “Once Upon A Dream” from Sleeping Beauty. Neither has let go of the other’s hand.

Virgil is comfortable in the silence for a bit, before he suddenly clears his throat and goes “so… are you adopted?”

Roman laughs aloud at the question, urging Virgil to quickly add “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to; I don’t mean to be nosey or insensitive.”

“I don’t think you’re either,” Roman assures him, through a few loose chuckles. “I’m not adopted. Bruce is my step-dad. My dad and mom got divorced a couple years ago; Papa and Dad married earlier this year.” Roman sighs, though it’s hard to tell if it’s out of adoration, or disappointment. “They’re newlyweds.”

Virgil nods, as Roman squeezes his hand again, before suddenly Roman’s tugging his arm a little harder.

“All right, my turn. What are your parents like?”

Virgil’s a bit surprised at the question, but after a moment he answers “it’s just me and my dad. My mom died when I was young. I don’t remember her at all.” They take a few steps in silence, before he adds “he never remarried. I don’t think he wants to, but I don’t see him much. He works out of the house, and when he has free time he chooses to travel. So he’s mostly out of state, really.”

“Do you wish he was home more?”

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Virgil uncomfortably pulls his hand from Roman.

“I guess? I don’t know him that well. We just sort of live our lives next to each other. We both have other things going on. Sure, he’s lonely, but I think if he rushed into things he’d be more unhappy. If he ever wants to get remarried, he deserves someone who loves him and wants to spend their life with him.”

“You deserve that too,” Roman replies, in a hushed voice. Virgil turns to look at him, questioningly, prompting Roman to let out a nervous laugh. “Which is why you have me, of course! I’ll treat you like the prince that you are!”

He leans forward and scoops Virgil up, tossing him effortlessly over his shoulder, earning at first a surprised gasp, and then a bout of laughter.

“Roman!” Virgil shouts, squirming as Roman carries him like he’s a sack of flour. “Put me down!”

“Never!”

Virgil laughs some more as Roman starts to jog with him, bouncing him up and down. “If your goal is to treat me like a prince then you’re doing a horrible job!”

“How about I do a little better, then?”

Roman readjusts their positions, so that Virgil’s off his shoulder and now being cradled in his arms, held bridal-style. Virgil’s arms wrap around Roman’s neck, and he’s smiling dopily, though his face is flushed, something Virgil’s sure is obvious even in the darkness of night.

He holds to Roman as Roman carries him forward, before suddenly he says “you can put me down now, Roman. I’m sure carrying me isn’t easy.”

“You underestimate how strong I am,” Roman responds, grinning wide.

“That’s not-” Virgil snorts, and tucks his face into Roman’s chest. Believe him, he can feel the muscle clearly beneath the thin fabric of Roman’s shirt. But that’s not the issue. “The thing is, I’m not… exactly the lightest person out there.”

Sure, skinny jeans were a common piece of clothing present in his wardrobe, but the name was misleading. They’d be better off called “form-fitting” jeans, or “tight” jeans, and frankly Virgil’s pudgy stomach often hung over the waistline if he didn’t hoist them up past his belly-button!

But Roman doesn’t bat an eye.

“So?” he prompts, squeezing Virgil’s body in a manner that’s meant to be comforting, but just makes Virgil flush. “Once again, I’m very strong. I don’t care how much you weigh. As long as you’re not starving yourself or over-eating, and you’re healthy, I don’t care. And it’s not my business.”

Roman then grins cheekily. “Isn’t that what you always say? That it’s not my business.”

Virgil smiles, a bit sheepishly. “Yeah,” he mumbles, hiding his face further in Roman’s chest. “I suppose.”

Roman carries him a few paces farther, before he softly asks “do you actually want to be set down? I won’t if you don’t want me to; I’ll hold you for as long as you’d like, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Yeah,” Virgil sighs. “I’m ready to keep walking.” As much as he enjoyed being carried, the action of being cradled flustered him.

Roman sets him back on his feet, and then shoves his hands into his pants pockets. Virgil flexes his fingers, before glancing at those very same pockets.

He decides to tap his fingers against his leg.

“So…”

Virgil turns to look at Roman, who’s clearly trying to think of a different conversation starter. He seems to debate a few, before settling on one, and continuing with “so, why did you say yes to my Oreo?”

Fingers tapping harder against his thigh, Virgil shrugs. “I don’t know. I was angry?”

He sounds very unsure of his answer, and that’s because he is. Sure, Virgil was angry. But that was only part of the reason. Impulsivity can only explain the initial acceptance; not anything that followed afterwards.

“What were you angry about?”

Virgil turns to look at Roman like he’s stupid. “I was angry over you, over Remus, over that stupid fucking game-”

“You keep calling Oreo stupid,” Roman interrupts, bringing them to a halt on the sidewalk. He looks confused. “But, you’re actively playing. Forgive me for being puzzled, but why do you hate this game? And if you really hate it, then why even entertain the concept?”

“To humiliate you,” Virgil responds, feeling his face warm with shame and humiliation at the admission, as though he’s finally admitting to the both of them that he’s out of Roman’s league. Roman stays quiet, giving Virgil the space to look away and suck a deep breath in. “It’s… it’s insulting to the people you ask out sometimes,” Virgil further clarifies, gritting his teeth. “Usually, when someone loses, their friends either pick out some secret crush they haven’t confessed to, or someone gross they think will embarrass them.”

He kicks a rock, and shoves his hands into his own pockets. “And… and Remus told you to ask me.”

He steps forward, but Roman catches his arm.

“Virgil… I didn’t know.”

Scoffing, Virgil tries to pull his arm away, and Roman does in fact let him go, but he moves to stand by Virgil’s side.

“Virgil, genuinely. I didn’t know. I guess I never thought about it from that perspective. I can see how that’d be degrading.”

Glancing upwards, Virgil sees Roman’s brows furrowed in concentration as he seemingly processes what Virgil told him. There’s no doubt, or malice. Just… contemplation.

Roman’s fingers graze Virgil’s knuckles.

Their hands once again fold together, fingers sliding into crevices until their palms are pressed against each other. They turn on the sidewalk, and start heading back the way they came without a word.

It’s only when they’re right outside the front door that Roman speaks again. As he slowly twists the doorknob, he looks back at Virgil.

“You don’t humiliate me, by the way,” he says, softly. “And it makes me sad that you think so little of yourself in order to believe that.”

Then he’s opening the front door and holding it chivalrously as Virgil walks inside, hunched over, as though trying to make himself appear smaller. He doesn’t say much as he heads back up to Roman’s room, but there isn’t much he thinks needs to be said. But he does think he’s going to lay down and try and get some more sleep. If not to make sure he’s well rested, then to simply avoid looking at Roman, who silently tucks himself into the pallet on the floor, leaving Virgil wide-eyed and alone with his thoughts snug in Roman’s bed.

#prinxiety #prinxiety fic #sanders sides #agp fic #prinxiety fluff #prinxiety fanfiction #sanders sides fic #ts virgil #ts roman

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zarvasace · 2 years

Text

Bubbly Water

2.5k worth of LU fluff. Disability AU and blatant Four favoritism. Sorry. Gen in every sense of the term. :) AO3 link here! (this is really not that good but. I had fun. So whatever.)

"Wars, where are we going?" Twilight asks, craning his neck to keep Wild and Wind within his sight as they all do their best to weave through the dense crowds of Warriors's Castletown. They can't go very fast, but they have a wedge formation, so there's room for Four to roll without hitting people and for Hyrule to walk alongside him.

Since Warriors walks at the head of the wedge, he can't exactly turn around to sign. Four sees his hand wave in a sort-of acknowledgement, but Twilight's question goes unanswered for now. Four isn't too worried about it, he knows that Warriors knows that they're all tired from three solid weeks running around the Great Sea. They'd run into monsters no matter where they went, and had only managed to spare two days saying hello to Wind's grandmother on Outset. Four is a little irritated with the day. He just wants to flop face-down on a bed and not move until morning, honestly.

It seems that Warriors is leading them to the hospitality district. Four remembers the tall, bright blue-painted inn they'd stayed in last time. The stairs hadn't been fun to navigate, but like always, they managed.

Warriors walks right past the inn and towards a nicer building, made with light-colored stone and lit up with colored glass in the lanterns, visible even in the bright overcast afternoon. The colors are cool, making the place look like it wavers underwater, an illusion only enhanced by the shells and pearls painted on the outside. The ocean theme is a little old, after three weeks of sailing and hearing waves, so there must be some good reason Warriors brought them here. It doesn't really look like an inn, and it's definitely not a tavern.

The lobby is nice, with marble or marble-patterned tile stretching from the front entrance to a counter, with doorways and stairs on either side. Four feels bad about the grime his wheels are undoubtedly smearing across the light floor. At least his aren't the only marks.

Warriors straightens his scarf, runs a hand through his hair, and puts on a smile. Backed by Time, he heads up for the counter. Warriors is lucky, sometimes. He's a celebrity in his world, though not always immediately recognizable to his people, and many of them have learned bits and pieces of sign because he uses it. The girl at the counter evidently knows enough to book them with whatever service they offer here.

Wind clearly wants to go explore, but Wild has his arm, and Twilight has Wild's belt. They make a very interesting chain as they all head into the arch Warriors directs them to.

The smell of flowers, citrus, and vanilla fills Four's nose as he pushes his way under the arch. There are a few doors out this way, spaced evenly with little shells glued to them in the shape of numbers. Four makes a noise of comprehension—it's a bathhouse. He hasn't been to many of these, and none since his accident. Hyrule looks more suspicious than usual. It doesn't explain why Wild, of all people, looks excited, though. Four has never seen a bathhouse or anything remotely similar in Wild's world, but to be fair, there's enough space there to hide an entire fortress or three. Sky has an absolutely delighted smile on his face, and Warriors's own smile is a little smug in light of that.

"Ooh," Wind says as he heads into the door Warriors opens up, and his voice bounces off of the tile. "It's so steamy in here!"

'Natural hot springs under the city,' Warriors explains, holding the door open with his shoulder. Sky repeats the words out loud, mostly for Hyrule's benefit. 'We can use any of the soaps over there, just don't go too crazy with them.'

The room is beautiful. This is no second-rate bathhouse. The ocean theme continues in here, with decorative nets hanging from the wooden rafters and more pearls painted in swirling designs along the plaster walls. In the center of the room is the bath, sunk into the ground and lined with a mosaic of sea turtles. The water ripples ever so slightly, under the influence of what Four assumes is a vent to circulate the water. It does, indeed, steam.

Wild makes a beeline for the floor-to-ceiling shelving that Warriors indicates and starts picking up each bar and jar to sniff and prod. Twilight pulls off his furs almost immediately, setting them on top of one of the counters along the other side. Sky follows suit, removing his weapons and cape. Wind plops down on the side of the bath and pulls his shoe off of his foot, then dangles it in the water as he wrangles with the laces holding on his other leg. Legend mutters to Hyrule, explaining what a bathhouse is, while Time runs a hand along the murals.

Four rolls in, and Warriors lets the door drop shut behind him. "How deep is it?" he asks softly, under the sounds of the others getting undressed and talking.

'There are steps,' Warriors assures him, understanding the concern, and Four nods as he watches Warriors turn the lock.

He knows that if he really wanted to, he could stay out, or use one of the many buckets instead of actually getting in. His chair is magical enough that water won't bother it, which had been a very good thing the last three weeks. The portal to Wind's world had dumped them a few yards offshore, and Four had gone entirely under before he knew what was happening. Luckily, Legend had reacted quickly enough and had enough swimming strength to get them both up above the surface before he sucked in any salty water.

Needless to say, Four isn't exactly overeager to go underwater again. Swimming takes up a lot of energy, and he can't do it for more than a few seconds at a time, since he mostly relies on his arms.

He gets a little closer to the water to look inside. True to Warriors's words, the bath gets deeper in stages, with wide steps that descend down a foot or so at a time. Gauging depth through the water isn't an exact science, but it looks like the center of the bath is about four feet deep. Even if he could stand, it would be a bit of an issue, but he can probably stick to one of the steps and be fine.

Besides, it looks warm. Four's a bit achy, and his hair has been salt-crusted for such a long time. A nice, warm bath really does sound just about perfect.

Sky, in his loose, embroidered undershirt and no shoes, walks around the edge of the bath, dropping in handfuls of white powder that sud up the water at the edges. "Nobody drink the water," he says, and his voice echoes, too.

Wind's eyes go wide. "Is that soap?"

"Bubbles!" Twilight says, grinning like an idiot. He turns red when the others turn to look at him. "What? Nobody else had bubble baths growing up?"

Wild shrugs. He's holding a bar of soap in each hand and weighing them. "I don't know."

"I did," Four says with a smile of his own. "Been a while, though."

"Bubbles?" Hyrule asks suspiciously. "Like…"

"Not the enemy kind," Wind interrupts. He shucks off his tunic and shirt and throws them to the side, where they're likely to get soaked in the water on the floor. Twilight rolls his eyes and picks them up to set them on the countertop.

Wind continues, heedless of the rescue of his clothing. "Come sit! They're a fun texture." He stirs the water with his foot a bit and scoops up a handful of the resulting bubbles to squish between his hands.

On the other side of the bath, Twilight, Sky, and Time get into the water. They're all delighted by the bubbles, and only Time tries to hide it. Legend complains a bit, but sits on one of the steps near Hyrule and Wind playing with the bubbles. Warriors and Wild hold a quiet discussion about the different soaps and what they're made out of.

Four watches the puddles of water grow from the edges of the bath, splashed by Twilight and Sky and Wind. He rolls over the countertop and reaches down to pull off his boots, then his socks. He's so caught up in his thoughts of how to wash his hair that Time's voice startles him.

"Are you getting in?"

After Four's heart calms back down, he looks up at Time and nods. "I'm planning on it. Maybe a little worried about slipping, though."

"Want some help?" Time asks. Time is probably the only one who can ask Four that question with any kind of regularity and not annoy him.

Four considers the myriad of ways he could slip on the tile, then nods. He stands for a few seconds to get his tunic and leggings off, then grabs his brush from his pack and lets Time pick him up—one arm behind his back, one under his knees, and both of Four's arms around his neck. He feels his face turn red, but tries to fight it down. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. He's just glad he's the smallest, so when people do have to pick him up, he doesn't present too big of a problem.

Time gets into the water slowly, making sure not to slip or fall. Some water droplets from Twilight and Sky's bubble fight fly their direction, and Four shields his face with a laugh. The water is delightfully warm, and the heat soaks deep into his skin. He can feel the dirt leaving him. It's nice.

Perhaps sensing his contentment, Time doesn't put him down immediately. He stands in the deepest part of the bath, with the waterline nearly over his chest. The warm water covers most of Four, too, though it seems like Time is careful to keep his shoulders above water. Bubbles float past him, sent over by Legend agitating the surface of the water with his hands.

Four smiles a little and lets go of Time to pull some of the white suds a bit closer. He looks up to see Legend watching him. Legend's eyebrow moves upward, seeing the mischief that must be in his eyes, and Four answers with a wider smile. Legend just makes more bubbles and pushes them Four's way. The water ripples as Sky goes under the water, pushed by Twilight.

Once he's gathered enough bubbles, Four scoops as many as he can into his free hand, then slaps them on Time's face. He's nice and keeps to the lower half of it.

Time jolts, his arms slipping a little as he splutters. His eye is wide as he looks down at Four, shocked and betrayed.

Four can't help the laugh that breaks out of him at that expression. He's joined by Twilight and Legend, who'd seen the whole thing. Twilight's laugh cuts off after a second as Sky dunks him back.

"Four?!" Time says. He spits out bubbles, and Four's laughter redoubles.

Wind almost manages to catch Legend's face with a handful of bubbles, too, but Legend pushes him away with a shout, a spot of white just on the end of his nose. Wind and Hyrule's giggles add to the cacophony.

"Don't even think about it," Twilight says to Wild, who gets in by them, though the intimidating tone is dampened somewhat by his smile.

"I wasn't!" Wild protests. "Much. Here, this one is for you." He hands Twilight a bar of milky green soap, and gives a pale blue one to Sky. "I chose the scent, Wars chose the type."

Twilight takes the soap with a scrunched nose. "Type?"

Wild shrugs and slips through the water to offer Hyrule another bar of soap. Warriors finally gets in, stretching and sighing at the heat, and answers Twilight's questions about types of soap.

Time continues to spit suds out as he takes Four to the side of the bath. One of the steps is at the perfect depth for Four to sit, and Time is only a little salty when he lets Four get down. He wipes the bubbles from his face.

"Bleh. Those do not taste as good as they smell."

"It's just soap," Four says with a gremlin smile, curling his fingers around the edge of the step as he sits there. He's a bit slow to react when Time scoops up an unfair amount of water to dump on his head.

Four shouts in protest. Sopping wet hair falls into his eyes, and drips some bubbles into his mouth. It's his turn to spit out soap. "Oh, you are asking for it."

They play for a while, letting out some of the stress of the last few weeks. The water doesn't get any colder, though Wars shows them a spout on the wall where they can get cold water into buckets. That sets off another round of dunking and splashing. Nobody's immune to getting ganged up on and dunked. Hyrule is very good at it, somehow.

It seems that Wild chose different soaps for all of them, and he makes sure everyone appreciates the scents he chose. Four does appreciate the minty, deep smell of his own. Sky takes a break from the tussling to sit by Four, and tells him that the light scent of his own Wild-chosen soap is apparently named "spring breeze."

Somehow, Legend wrestles Wild into sitting still so he can work at his hair. Four has to wince at the way the water around Wild gets gray from the dirt and salt. He intends to do his own hair by himself, but can't say no when Wind asks quietly if he can help.

When everyone has been scrubbed and washed and tired out, they sit at the edges of the bath and wait for the bubbles to dissipate. The conversation turns to where they'll stay that night, though it's just a little before dinnertime now. Wild suggests a cafe he'd eaten at on a previous visit to this town, and Sky starts to fall asleep in the heat. Warriors says he has a place in mind, one away from crowds where he thinks he can get a ground floor room. Four doesn't have a lot to add to the conversation, but he enjoys listening and adding thoughts and snide comments every so often. He doesn’t say anything when he notices Legend inspecting the soaps, getting teary-eyed at one of them, and tucking it away for later.

Maybe tomorrow they'll all fall in the mud, or get covered in monster blood again, but for now, Four enjoys the feeling of being clean and tired and safe. He kicks his feet out in the water. His toes poke out, and he smiles.

They call it an evening when Wind drops off to sleep and falls in. The towels provided on the shelves are fluffy and just warm enough. Four changes his mind about the day—it’s nice. He likes it. He would like to spend the rest of it eating and reading past his bedtime.

#my writing #disability au #linked universe #lu fic #lu four #he's the biggest player in this #by virtue of being pov #but all of them are there #it's fluff okay #so much fluff #why?#who knows #i like writing

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wonderlandleighleigh · 2 years

Note

Lenny realizing he finally has the stable family he never had as a kid

Sundays are good.

Yes, he's tired from the gig the night before, but when he wakes up in the morning, Midge is using him as a pillow, and he can hear the TV playing softly in the living room, meaning at least one kid is awake.

He messily grabs for his watch on his bedside table and squints. Eight.

"Sweetheart," he mutters. "We have about ten minutes before the kids bust down the door."

She huffs and snuggles in closer. "That's not enough time for a quickie."

"We'll fit one in tonight after we put 'em to bed," he promises.

Midge giggles a little against his chest. "Fit one in."

He laughs. "Midge."

"Getting it out of my system before-"

"Mama!" Esther calls, swinging open the door. "Mama the milkman skipped us again. Did you call him a bad name?"

Midge lifts her head and thinks for a moment. "No. Yes. Maybe. I'll fix it."

"What did you say to the milkman?" Lenny asks, bewildered.

"Nothing a grown adult can't handle," Midge promises.

"I'm making toast!" Kitty calls from the kitchen. "Who wants toast?!"

"Me!" Lenny calls, and is joined by everyone else in the house. "I'll go help."

Midge holds him tighter. "Esther go away for a second."

"But-"

"Shoo, we'll be right out."

She does, and once she's gone, Midge leans in and kisses Lenny slowly.

It's easy to fall into it, wrap his arms around her and hold her close.

She smiles against his lips. "Mm. Morning."

"Good morning, Wife-shaped person in my bed," he teases.

She grins and they both get up and start getting ready for the day.

*****

Everyone eats toast. The kids drink juice and the adults drink coffee, and they watch a little TV together before the flurry of activity starts up again.

Ethan heads out to play baseball with some friends, and Kitty and Esther go to the park, taking snacks and jump ropes with them. Lily is too small to go without a grownup, but she does get handed off to Rose a little while later so Abe can give her a piano lesson.

They spend the afternoon doing some cleaning, and working on their acts, and Lenny winds up being the one to call the milkman, telling him Midge has a deep psychosis that causes her to say terrible things, but also, he's got to stop rubbing her long-ago divorce in her face.

It goes south from there.

"How'd it go?" Midge asks as she folds laundry in their bedroom.

Lenny flops down face first onto the bed. "I call him a twat waffle."

Midge bursts into surprised laughter. "Lenny!"

"I'm right!"

"We're never getting milk again," Midge keeps laughing. "Ethan will murder us all."

Lenny rolls over, grinning as he rubs his face. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," Midge shakes her head. "We'll figure it out."

"Maybe we can let Ethan kill the milkman and then we'll have a new one who doesn't know you're on your second marriage."

Midge laughs again and sits down next to him, kissing him softly. "We'll figure it out."

*****

Ethan comes home and grabs a shower, and the girls get back from the park. Rose and Abe come over with Lily and stay for dinner as Midge cooks for everyone, and Lenny plays cards with the kids on the floor.

"Really, Lenny they can entertain themselves," Rose points out.

"They're the ones entertaining me," Lenny grins at her.

They all eat dinner together, and Lenny cuts up Lily's food for her, simultaneously making sure Esther doesn't pilfer anyone's wine.

It's nice.

It's really nice.

Abe and Rose don't stay too late, eager to get home and turn in so they can get up early in the morning, and eventually they manage to get the kitchen clean and the kids to bed.

"it's funny," he says quietly as they get ready for bed. "When I was a kid I always wanted this. Just...normal days spent with family. And then when I got older, I told myself I didn't want it anymore. That it was boring. That it wasn't for me."

"I hate to break it to you," Midge says, wrapping her arms around his middle. "But we're not that normal. You called the milkman a twat waffle."

"I'm still-"

She kisses him deeply before he can finish that sentence, and he drops the subject in favor of holding her close.

"So you wanted this as a kid," she says softly. "And then you told yourself you didn't want it. And now you have it. How does it feel?"

Lenny takes a breath, thinking that over. "Good. Milkman drama notwithstanding."

Midge laughs softly and tugs him towards the bed.

#fic #au #tmmm #Midge/Lenny #Midge x Lenny

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fanfictionatic · 2 years

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Ritual

Part 10 of NanoWrimo hell

Pairing: demon!Johnny x reader

Description: You don’t mind helping your friends out with their party

Warnings: gore, death, slight v*re, oral sex, unedited work

You didn’t really believe in demons. They were fairytales as far as you were concerned. But that being said, you weren’t going to pass up going to this party and getting in on the extremely drunk demon summoning. It would be a fun time even if you were somewhat of a skeptic.

You even volunteered to be the ‘sacrifice’, not really caring too much about it as it would probably just be part of your friends messing with you. They even brought a trick knife and fake blood for you to symbolize what they wanted from the ceremony. The only part of this that wasn’t completely theatrical was the book and the symbols.

You laugh as you lay down on your back in the middle of the circle that was drawn out of blue sidewalk chalk on the pavement. Your friends were lighting candles while wearing robes from a cheap costume store, chanting some very strange words from the book and dancing around.

When the last word is finally spoken, you close your eyes and feel the fake knife poke at your chest harmlessly, playing your part and tearing open one of the blood packets to spill it everywhere.

Then, the entire circle around you starts to glow the same shade of coral blue it was drawn in. Wow, your friends really went to a lot of effort for this! Even they have shocked looks on their faces at how this is turning out!

Some of them even fake a panic, starting to run away from the scene as quickly as they can. You wonder briefly if you should join them, but you know your part is still playing the ‘sacrefice’ and you had to keep to it so you didn’t ruin the fun. Instead of running you pretend to die dramatically, even closing your eyes.

You feel someone flop down next to you. Maybe someone else was pretending to die dramatically too to make it scarier?

They scoot a little bit too close for your liking, but you try to stay still until you absolutely can’t hear anyway anymore. And it’s only then when you open your eyes and finally see the person next to you.

He had long blond hair poking out of a hat along with horns, wings, and a cute heart shaped tail. You laugh a little bit. The costume looked so real even if they had gotten one of the least intimidating people possible to play the ‘demon’.

You shake him lightly making him shift a little bit and giving you a glimpse of his razor sharp claws. He opens his eyes and they focus in on you. You aren’t sure what effects he’s using to make his eyes glow like that, but it looks really cool.

“I love your costume, but everyone’s gone now and we should probably follow them to wherever they went.”

He pauses for a moment but then nods, slowly moving to get back into a wheelchair he had probably pulled up the the circle. You stand up and give you arm a confused look. You swore you didn’t remember anyone drawing a star on your arm when your eyes were closed.

“Did you see where they went?”

“I know where they were planning to head after this. That’s probably where we can find them, come on.”

You start leading the strange man back to the party. It was weird that he hadn’t gotten the memo about the after party with the ritual, but it was fine now.

“So what’s your name?”

“Johnny.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m glad there’s someone else that wanted to do an over the top part of this like me. You make a pretty good demon and I make a pretty good sacrifice.”

He smirks and chuckles, nodding at your statement and staring at the star on your body.

“We do. More than you know.”

“I don’t get what this ritual was supposed to originally summon. Was this supposed to be some grand ritual for a powerful wish granting demon or whatever?”

“It was supposed to summon an imp familiar that would take the sacrifice’s soul as payment for serving them.”

You laugh and hold up your arm and waving the symbol around “I command you to get me a drink at the party when we get there!”

You see him roll his icy blue eyes that seem to glow more brightly than they did a moment ago. His costume really was pretty well done.

“Are we almost there? I’m starving.”

“Yeah. It should be right in that building. Feel free to grab some food when you get in.”

You see him smirk at you before he opens the door to the building.

“Is that an order?”

“You bet it is! Make sure you get enough to eat at this party.”

You walk in and go to use the bathroom and clean the fake blood off of you along with the dirt. As much as you had gotten into the whole ritual thing, you also weren’t really that willing to spend the rest of the party feeling gross and sticky.

You’re in there for a while with the water running, but you do manage to eventually get yourself cleaned off enough to go find Johnny and have a good time. Weirdly enough, everything seems quiet before you open the door. But when you open it and walk down the hallway, you suddenly know why.

There is blood and buts of organs covering the walls. Bodies of people you vaguely know are piled up on the ground with holes through their chests. You feel sick to your stomach at your the stench of iron in the room alone.

And in the middle of all of it is none other than Johnny himself, using those claws you saw before to rip into the chest cavity of the very person who had invited you here. You watch as he greedily pulls out a still beating heart and scampers off of the body, crawling over to you and grinning as he starts to bite into the organ and devour it.

You don’t really know how to react at this point. This whole time you had assumed that this was all part of the stupid ritual and they had just gotten really elaborate. But now it was obvious that the ritual had worked too well. It had been too real. An actual demon was never supposed to show up and make a deal with you.

“Whats the matter y/n? I thought you wanted me to make sure I got enough to eat.”

You start backing away towards the door as the creature stalks closer.

“T-this wasn’t what I wanted! They’re all dead! This-this ritual was a mistake! None of us actually thought we would summon you!”

He seems to move towards the door with almost blinding speed on the ground, practically purring as he clicks the lock shut and presses himself up against you.

“It doesn’t matter. Any deal made with the ritual is a valid one as long as the payment is given. You’ve already given me my first orders and now you owe me.”

“If…if the ritual actually did work…I order you to find another source of food!”

He nuzzled against your neck, his tail starting to tug at your waist and while he slipped his hands under your shirt.

“Fine. But there are only two other sources and one of them would require you to have the ability to harvest souls.”

You don’t like the sound of that, but you have to ask anyway.

“What’s the…other way I can feed you?”

He grazes his teeth over the skin, humming and pressing closer to you.

“You can give me some of your energy. Anything sexual should release it.”

“Wait, why should I feed you? You killed everyone here! You’re a monster!”

His hands are running themselves over your chest now. Almost as if he knows you will eventually say yes.

“I am, but the deal is still active. I can give you anything you want Y/N. Even if I’ve been demoted to being an imp, I still have more power than any human. I can get you money, fame, and other things you value.”

You’re about to reject his offer but you stop to think about it. On one hand he had killed your friends and tricked you, but on the other hand if what you were saying was true, you had already sold your soul to him regardless which he could take at any time.

And he was offering you enough power and money to live a happy life. To support your remaining friends who hadn’t gone to the party. Maybe even to help your other loved ones. With the leftover money you could also save it up for yourself.

And if you are being honest, Johnny isn’t bad looking. You were going to come find him and hang out with him anyway before you found out he was an actual demon. So there was a good chance the night would have ended up with the two of you in bed together regardless.

“Ok fine. But if you ever kill anyone again I’ll leave you to starve, my soul be damned. And you better be a good boy for me and make me cum.”

With this you start working off your shirt, giving Johnny’s roaming hands more caress to where they were going.

“You’re the one I made a pact with. I have to listen to you.” He shrugs and pulls your underwear and your pants down at the same time, leaving you exposed. You grind down on one of his legs, feeling yourself already getting aroused. Of course, you were close to it before.

Johnny starts trailing kisses down your neck, using his fingers to start playing with your parts. He clearly has to be careful because of the claws, but he’s ok at it.

He starts to go lower with the kissing and you can feel your face getting flushed, shuddering if the feeling you get when he does that to your sensitive skin.

Finally he gets low enough that he is beyond the parts his hands weren’t pleasuring you with. You could feel the movements of his tongue on you and you felt like your eyes were going to roll back into your head at his good it felt.

Something about the texture of his tongue felt like it was sending little shocks right to the deepest part of your core. In a sense though, maybe demons like him had evolved these kinds of things for better energy extraction when they fed.

“J-Johnny-…Ah!!!!”

You couldn’t control the excited sounds you were making. You had never felt anything like this before, not even with the best toys or fucks you could get your hands on. For a creature from hell, his tongue was really sending you to heaven right now.

You don’t know how long it takes you like that before you cum, but you know that you do when the feeling hits it high. You practically scream at the force of it, clamping your legs around the small demon.

You’re left a panting mess as Johnny eagerly laps up the fluids from you. Maybe that was what had the energy in it. Who really knew how demons worked?

“I…I can keep feed you regularly if it’s going to be like that every time.” You find yourself laughing. Because this has been one long day you never expected to have and there was so much that had happened.

“Good. Because I’m still hungry enough for more.”

#johnny joestar x reader #my writing #dark posting #jjba x reader #jjba #fanfiction #horror

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illmoraineakoi · 1 year

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Hollow Knight Plush Stuff

So, I decided I'm going to give this a shot, at least until I hit some sort of big snag that makes the end result not worth the effort.