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spooky-luvur · 8 months

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OPEN 24/7

(Ghostface x Reader)

(Summary: Working at a gas station at two in the morning was sooo boring- until a strange customer changes that)

The bell rings for the umpteenth time. As part of your game, you make a guess in your head. Another old beer-belly? Bud Light, but maybe Modelo. Maybe a kid, reeking of weed and you’re gonna need to ask them for ID. Those are more common than you’d like to think about.

You listen to the squeak of leather shoes against the floor, not bothering to look up from your phone until the footsteps stop in front of you.

“How can I help you?”

“Something more interesting than me?”

The tone of the man causes you to finally avert your attention. He’s neither fat and bald nor young enough to require questions, if the shadow on his face is any indication. He's giving you a look, hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Not a mean look- you’ve gotten enough of those working at this crummy gas station to know the difference. The smooth brow and twinkling eyes is enough to tell you he isn’t mad and isn’t about to yell at you about the pumps not working. Not yet at least.

You flush a bit at the call out, awkwardly slipping the device in your pocket. Thankfully it’s just you tonight, so there’s no annoying coworker to rat you out for this.

“Sorry,” you tell him, trying to sound at least a tidbit professional. “Slow night, I guess.”

The man’s lips quirk but he’s not quite smiling. You wonder if he’s actually upset about it before he nods to the shelf behind you.

“Some reds. Gotta look cool and mysterious for all the people flinging themselves at me.”

You let out a ‘ha’ at his joke and he grins. You turn to grab a pack of smokes, placing it on the counter and he pulls out some cash to pay for it. Not unusual, but usually people his age love to flaunt their fancy credit cards to prove they have them or some other bullshit reason to flash the shiny hunk of plastic at you. Normally a shitty pick-up line follows it.

“Not very good for you,” you attempt to joke. The man raises his brow and you immediately wish you kept a gun behind the counter to shoot yourself with.

“I know,” he says. “Ever found yourself hooked on something, though? Can be tough as hell to break away.” He gives a kind of wry smile that leaves you fidgeting where you stand.

“No. Not- nothing like that, no.”

The man deftly tucks the smokes into his pocket.

"Right. Well, have a nice night," he says before turning on his heel and swiftly exiting the store, the encounter happening so quickly that it leaves your head spinning.

“Alright,” you mutter to yourself, a bit too stiff to go back to your casual leaning against the counter pose.

You’re still absentmindedly staring at the glass doors when the phone rings. The blaring noise makes you jump but you snatch it up nonetheless, stuttering out a hello.

“Heya, just checking in.”

The voice of your boss makes your shoulders relax. You suddenly can’t remember what they were tense for.

“Hey Jimmy, I’m doing fine.”

“Yeah? No robbers?”

“If there was, I wouldn’t be talking to you. I’d be crying in the freezer.”

“Ha. Never gonna happen, kid. Not when they know Big Jim’s the one that owns the place.”

“Course not.”

He reminds you to restock the drinks before he hangs up, leaving you sighing against the phone. A couple seconds after you set it down it rings again and you pick it up fully expecting for Jimmy to answer saying ‘and another thing-‘

But it isn’t Jimmy who responds to your hello this time. A peculiar voice echoes the word back to you. It makes you pause, and a short silence follows.

“…Hello?”

Snapping out of it, you instinctively adjust your posture as though the person on the other end could discern your lackluster demeanor and reprimand you for it.

“How can I help you?”

”Who is this?”

“…Jimmy’s Station. Do you need a pizza, or…”

“No, no. Was hoping you could help me with something else.”

“Okay…what is it?” You naw your lip, nervous for some reason. Your gut twists like you’ve eaten something bad.

“You got any knives?”

“Ah…”

You glance over at the rack of colorful blades on the other side of the counter. All shapes and sizes, all dangerously sharp.

“Yes, we do.”

“Perfect. You got any pink ones?”

“Buying one for your wife?”

Seriously, curse you and your automatic attempts to desperately avoid weird conversations. The voice on the other end laughs a bit. Or scoffs.

”Maybe. Think she’ll like it?”

“I mean, probably.”

“Hm…what about blue? You got any blue ones?”

“Yes, we have blue knives.” You answer, simply exasperated now. Part of you thinks this guy is just messing with you, but these seem like regular questions well enough. It’s not like there’s a lack of strange people out there that could be asking them.

“Well, that’s just great. Hey, could you do me a favor?”

Knowing he’s probably gonna say something stupid, you reply with a ‘sure, whatever.’

”Take one of those pretty, shiny knives- one of the really nice ones, you know? Pick your favorite color, even. Take it, really feel the weight- and shove it in your gut till you bleed like a stuck fucking pig.”

The phone is suddenly a block of ice in your hand.

“W-What?”

”What?” It mocks you. “You think it’ll hurt? I bet you’d like that.”

You shake. Why the hell haven’t you hung up yet? The sick freak on the other end laughs tauntingly. Like he’s actually having fun with this.

”You would wouldn’t you? I’d take your damn guts and string them up on the wall- really spice the place up a bit, it’s so dreary. Then I’d-“

You finally rip the phone away from your ear and slam it down onto the receiver. Gulping in a breath, you rub your hands down your face to steady yourself. Stupid prank callers.

Deciding you need to get the hell up and do something with your hands you leave the counter and head toward the back of the store behind the freezers. Upon entering you shiver, considering going back out to your car to retrieve your jacket.

You haul a box of beers onto a table and begin unpacking them, the repetitive motion allowing you to lose yourself in your thoughts. For a few minutes it’s a good distraction from the voice you keep replaying in your head.

Then your phone rings. Not the store phone still on the front counter- your personal cell resting in your back pocket.

‘Ugh,’ you think. ‘What is it now, spam?’

Thinking that, you ignore call and let it continue ringing until it stops. But then it happens again, and you’re annoyed enough to whip it out and answer it.

“Listen-“

”You’re being really fucking bad.”

The can you’d been holding slips out of your grip and explodes on the floor, wetting your feet. You curse loudly and fling your phone onto the table.

“What the fuck!”

The device slides off the table and clatters onto the stone floor. All you can do for several moments is stand there and stare as if the voice would reach through the device and grab you, carrying out the acts it had told you to perform on yourself only minutes prior.

Thinking quickly you hurry over to the freezer door and lock it from the inside. Great, now the only people that can get in and get you are people that work here. You can just stay in here till morning, right? Or maybe Jim will call again and you won’t pick up and he’ll get worried and he’ll call for someone to help you and-

“Saved me the trouble.”

A pair of arms wind around your waist and you’re ripped away from the door and tossed onto the ground like a sack of food. The concrete scratches your skin painfully as you gasp for breath, glancing up to see a kind of black shroud. It’s all you allow yourself before you’re scrambling to your feet and further into the room.

Only, as you stop in front of the back door that leads to basically the woods, you realize you don’t have the one think that opens it on your person. Your mind thinks back to the key ring in the office as you hear the shrouded attacker approaching.

“Please,” you’re saying before you even turn around. Once you do you’re met with a stark white face twisted in a dramatic scream. The figure is tall, you notice as it stalks closer.

“Already begging?” It teases you in a warped voice. The same one on the phone, you realize.

“What the hell?” The fearful tears in your eyes sting angrily. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Want do you want? I’ll call the fucking cops!”

He’s laughing before you can finish.

“Really? Who am I to stop you, then?”

He steps to the side and waves his arm to the doorway behind him.

“Phones just over there. Go ahead.”

Surely. Surely he’s messing with you. You’re not that stupid, and neither is he. And he knows that you know that, if the silent laughter that makes his shoulders shake is any indication.

“Fuck you,” you hiss at him as you press your back to the locked door. Your hands splay across the cold metal as if searching for a blackhole to swallow you completely.

“Such a dirty mouth! Think it’s good for anything other than cussing me out?”

“Get fucked.”

“Are you offering?”

You find yourself paralyzed with fear as he reaches into a concealed pocket, retrieving a knife. The silver gleams in the shitty light of the freezer.

“What do you want?” You take pride in lack of tremble in your voice.

“You were so rude earlier,” the masked man says. He slides a finger down the blade of the knife tauntingly. “Hanging up, and then ignoring me? Didn’t your mother teach you any better?”

“You deserved it, freak.”

“Oh!” He laughs. “You think so? Mm, maybe I was a bit forward…” He playfully taps a gloved finger against the plastic mask like a cartoon villain.

Your heart beats painfully in your chest but you force yourself to steady your breathing and consider your options. Right now you’re stuck between this obviously intelligent freak of a man and a locked door you have no hope of opening unless you suddenly get super strength.

“I see you thinking, doll. Wanna share with the class?” By now he’s standing mere inches away and you flinch as he brings up the gutting knife to trace the tip of it along the vulnerable skin of your exposed collar.

You steel yourself, tilting your head so you’re not looking up at him like a frightened child. “Get away from me.”

The knife pauses in its path up your throat and you nearly shiver at the sharp chill.

“Away? From you?”

A hand tangles in your hair and shoves you harder against the door, making you groan in pain.

“Go ahead and have an attitude again, I dare you. Double dare, even.” He hisses, bringing his mask closer to your face. You can’t see his eyes behind the cloth. Just a black void.

“I’m sorry…” you mutter, having to come up with something quick. Maybe if you convince this guy you’re totally giving up he’ll slip somehow and you can get away. Or he’ll see right though it and you’ll end up with your insides strewn about like party streamers. That’ll be fun for the next shift.

Your breathy tone causes him to pause. After a moment his chest rumbles like a happy purr.

“Oh, that’s good. I like that. Say it again, won’t you?”

You can feel his knife poking your belly- thinly veiled threat.

“I’m sorry.” You grow bold enough to slide your hand from the wall and onto his waist. You touch the man lightly as if he was a bomb you could set off at any moment. Which he is.

“I’m just scared. Please.”

“Of course you are. But it’s gonna be okay,” he brings his other hand from your hair down to your face to traces your lips with his finger. It would have made your stomach flutter if he wasn’t holding a knife against it.

“I’m not gonna hurt you too bad. I just wanna have some fun, but you’re being such a brat.”

“I…”

Your eyes slide past him to the open doorway. Your phone still rests on the floor in that room, but doesn’t he know about that? No way he’d let you anywhere near it. You’d have to think of something, fast.

A hand under your chin forces you to look back at the screaming mask.

“I hope you’re not thinking of it. I don’t know if I can handle anymore of that tonight.”

“No…no, of course not.”

“Good. Good boy.” His hand moves from your chin to curl around your throat as if simply admiring the flesh there.

“Please,” you push yourself off the wall and further against him, straight up pressing your chest to his at this point. His hand stutters against you and you don’t feel the sharp press of the knife anymore. “You’re…making me feel so-“

“Yeah? How am I making you feel, baby?”

You smooth your hands up his arms, having to mentally scream at yourself to keep you from fawning over the firm muscle there.

Maybe he’s too desperate to get his hands on you, or maybe he’s distracted by your hands on him, but he’s loose enough to not notice the not so subtle tightening of your grasp all of a sudden.

“So…urgh!”

You don’t know where you got the strength but you throw your entire body weight at the guy in order to shove him away and pretty much fling him toward a metal rack stacked full of boxes. He yelps in pain as he crashes into it, bottles spilling out and exploding. If the bitter smell of strong alcohol doesn’t suffocate him, his now drenched mask surely will. You use his momentary stun to turn and sprint to the other room, nearly slipping on the liquid covering the floor.

Your hands are shaking from adrenaline so badly you almost lose your balance once you crawl under the table to retrieve your phone. Breathing a sigh of relief once you have it you swipe to your contacts and click on the first one you see, the scream for help on the tip of your tongue. You don’t remember if your finger hit the call button or not before you’re suddenly grabbed by the ankle and dragged out from under the table shrieking.

You don’t have time to prepare yourself to meet the terrible mask once again before you’re flipped onto your back, but that doesn’t matter. A gasp gets stuck in your throat at the bare face that greets you.

“You…”

The man’s hair is damp as it falls over his eyes and he reeks of fancy beer. He’s breathing heavily as he sits on your legs to keep you still.

“Hey, doll. Funny seeing you here.”

A brief exchange- a single purchase was all it took to become a victim? He must see the realization on your face because he grins like a bully.

“I know, I know. I did good, didn’t I? Had to stop myself from jumping over the counter then and there. Knew the wait would be worth it, though.”

“You fucking prick!” Squirming within the man's unyielding hold, he maintains a smug grin while firmly clasping your wrists. You can tell someone like him is simply reveling in his sense of control. “I hope you choke on your damn cigarettes!”

He throws his head back and laughs. If he wasn’t currently holding you captive you probably would have blushed at this man’s boyish charm.

“That’s good, I might use that. You mind if I use that?”

You attempt to kick him off before there’s a hand on your throat and squeezing. You sputter, grasping at it. The man brings his face down to yours to hiss angrily, but before he can get a word out-

“Hello? Please answer me…”

The room fills with a thick silence as both of you freeze. You both pivot your heads in unison, eyes landing upon the phone which is nearly concealed beneath the table's shadow. The screen is lit up in a call, the name of your friend that lives just down the road splayed across it. You’d laugh in pure relief if you weren’t still face to face with the man in the shrouded costume.

The man on top of you faces you with a blank look and brings his finger up to his mouth in a shushing motion. As if you’re dumb enough to yell out for help now.

“The cops are on their way, I called them a few minutes ago. Maybe everything is fine but I just wanted to make sure-“

The man quietly seethes with anger and scrambles off you to snatch up the device, ending the call. He leaves you on the ground, breathing heavily and staring up at him.

“I know where you live. I know where you work.”

He crouches beside you and there’s that stupid fucking grin again, like a child that just stole another kids candy.

“I know where you go to eat, I know what roads you take, I know where you piss in the morning. I know everything about you, doll. So please, tell them everything and give me a fucking reason.”

You hadn’t noticed his knife was back in his gloved hand until it’s being dragged down your leg, catching the fabric of your pants. You suck in a breath and look back up to meet his eye, shaking your head.

“Good. I know you’ll behave.”

He stands back up and makes to leave through the back door, swinging the ring of the key on his finger casually. He winks at you before he slips away.

“Until next time, baby.”

Thirty minutes later you’ll be seated in your friends car as they drive you home, remembering the feeling of the masked man’s hands on your skin, on your body, around your throat- until it’s seared in your consciousness. It isn’t until you’re laying in bed that night that a shiver of fear, or maybe even sick excitement runs through you when you remember he still has the key.

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(chat gpt fr saved my ass on some of this 🤫)

#ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface x male reader #x male reader #slasher x male reader #slashers #slashers x reader

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bradshawsbaby · 3 months

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If you're still taking those late-night prompts, how about "I'm cold. Cuddle with me" + Rhett because I'm having feelings.

Always having feelings about that cowboy!

One of the worst parts about traveling on the rodeo circuit was the accommodations. You never knew what town you were going to end up passing through, or what crummy motel you’d have to spend the night in. Some were better than others, but tonight, you and Rhett had ended up in a particularly crappy one.

You typically tried to look on the bright side of things—at least you and Rhett were together, and you were getting to watch the love of your life live out his dreams. But the broken radiator and the freezing water in the bathroom were enough to sour your mood, especially after a long and exhausting day at the rodeo grounds.

If you were a bit peeved about the situation, you knew Rhett was downright grumpy. He’d had a good ride today, but he’d tweaked a nerve in his shoulder and you knew all he wanted was a hot shower to relax and unwind.

“Stupid shithole,” he’d muttered in frustration when you returned to the motel and were met with ice water instead.

He was taking a quick shower now, trying to wash away the dirt and grime from the day, while you tried to make the room a little bit more comfortable. With no heat, you’d donned a pair of thick socks, sweatpants, a long-sleeve shirt, and one of Rhett’s hoodies to try to keep warm, managing to find an extra blanket in the closet and throwing it onto the bed. You fluffed the pillows as best you could, trying to make it as cozy as possible for when Rhett came out of the bathroom.

Just as you were settling down under the covers, the bathroom door opened and Rhett stepped out with a white towel slung low around his waist. Your mouth watered at the sight. But his handsome face was twisted into a scowl as he stomped over to his travel bag.

“Is a little hot water after a long damn day too much to ask for?” he grumbled, digging through his things for a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Normally he liked to sleep with minimal clothing, or none at all, but you could see he was still visibly shaking from his frigid shower.

You bit your lower lip, leaning back against the headboard. “I know, but at least we’ll be checked out of here tomorrow,” you offered, trying to find a silver lining.

“Not fast enough,” Rhett grunted, dropping his towel and quickly getting dressed.

You knew he was just exhausted and in pain, and that was what was making him so cranky. So you held out a hand to him, your voice calm as you said, “I’m cold. Cuddle with me.”

If you had tried to offer to take care of him when he was in a mood like this, he would have just gotten more snappish, but when you turned the tables and made it seem like you needed him, he was quick to soften and come crawling into bed beside you.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he murmured, wrapping you in his arms and holding you against his chest. “I wish I could have taken you someplace better than this,” he said with a frown, glancing around your more than modest lodgings.

“Shh, I don’t care about that,” you assured him, draping yourself across his chest. “Just want to be with you.”

He chuckled quietly under his breath, running his fingers through your hair as your eyes grew heavier and heavier.

“I’m really glad you’re here with me,” he whispered against the top of your head, dropping a kiss on it. “It means the world to me, havin’ you in my corner.”

You smiled, cuddling closer to him. “I love you, Rhett.”

“I love you, too, baby. Now let’s get some sleep.”

late night prompts

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #outer range #rhett drabble #lewis pullman

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gingernut1314 · 4 months

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Songbird Pt. 9

Buggy x F!Reader

Summary: Buggy pulls you from your girl's night only for you to find your captain's emotions running wild.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut (drunk sex, misuse of Devil Fruit powers, oral f.receiving, slight restriction, p in v, biting), use of Y/N

Word Count: 6.0K

A/N: Heyyyyy guys!! Back with some of the main story!! Sorry it took....a while 😬. I hope you all enjoy!!! 🩷🩷🩷

Requested by: @srgtjamesbarnes

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Girls night.

You hadn’t had a proper girl’s night since you were very little with your mom. Those nights where it was just the two of you played a card game together whenever she had a day off from work, which had been far and few in between.

You had no siblings to account for and, though Nami had been a good friend, she had been too worried about Arlong and her family to truly be able to relax and have fun. Understandably so.

So when Esmeralda and the other girls aboard the Big Top told you of their tradition, which took place whenever they made dock and the boys went to some crummy bar to drink, you were ecstatic.

You helped them gather supplies of cheeses, meats, grapes, and copious amounts of alcohol and you all huddled together in your shared quarters, gramophone playing the latest songs Esmeralda had collected that day.

So far, Emi had shown off her sword-swallowing skills, Seqii and her Aerial Ensemble had done shots standing upside down in a pyramid, you had sung three silly drinking shanties, and Esmeralda had cried about her horse-turned-cat food.

You now sat in a circle on the ground, shoving the remaining meats and cheeses into your faces, talking about anything and everything that happened within the varying relationships amongst the crew.

“Cabaji made me scrub the deck two times. Two!” Seqii complained, her drink sloshing around dangerously in her cup as she turned towards Emi, who was equally as off-balanced as her friend. “Can’t you swallow his sword, Emi? Make him loosen up a bit.”

“I swallow his sword every godsdamn night and --hic-- he still makes me re-tie lines even though they were perfect--hic--before.” Emi hiccupped, downing the rest of her drink. “Just how the guy is. Commanding. Just how --hic-- I like ‘em.” Seqii gave a dramatic roll of her eyes, loudly disagreeing with that statement.

“What about nice? Gentle?” Esmeralda slurred horrendously from where she sat next to you, one arm looped through yours while her other hugged the skittish contortionist, whose head lay in her lap. Emi and Seqii both booed her, making the ex-equestrian huff.

“The difference between you and --hic-- the rest of us is you like like Mohji.” Emi hiccuped, spurring Esmeralda to pull from your hold, flabbergasted.

“He’s nice to me and he loves me. Sorrrryyyy.” She all but shouted, making Emi and Seqii laugh like a pack of hyenas. Esmeralda snatched the bottle of wine Seqii had just picked up in something like payment and the aerial performer let her with a wide grin. “I’m not the only one who like likes who we are with. Y/N like, likes the Captain.”

Your own laughter was cut short as your heart nearly stopped in your chest. All eyes around the room snapped to you to see if what Esmeralda said was true.

That warm, fluttery feeling rushed around in your chest at the mention of your captain. A feeling you had been struggling to get back under wraps, but nothing you did ever could lessen the happy feeling.

The thought of his smile had that feeling soaring. The thought of his sea-glass eyes and his bad jokes and the gifts he would shower upon you--

You gave an elongated, scoffing pfftt with a dismissive arching motion of your hand…and then another and another.

“Shit. She more than like likes him.” Seqii said, her grin turning shit-eating.

“I like no man. Men are gross. Ew.” You hissed, wobbling a bit as Esmeralda all but crashed into you on her way to flop on her back.

“Ughhhh--you’re in denial.” Seqii continued, grabbing the wine bottle back from Esmeralda before she could spill it all over the floor.

“It’s no --hic--fun.” Emi popcorned in, snagging the bottle from her friend and taking a long swing.

“You know what is fun?” Seqii asked, fixing you with a mischievous smirk. “Telling us about how good in bed he is.” You felt your face flush at the statement, a few girls giggling and gasping around the room. Others egged you on, all but begging you to tell them.

“That’s priv--” You started, only to be cut off by Esmeralda popping back up with a near-matching mischievous grin.

“How big is he?” Your mouth fell open at her bluntness, but the woman only laughed away like it was no big deal. “Tell me when to stop, okay!” She said excitedly, placing her hands together before gradually pulling them apart. “Tell me when to stop--tell--there's no way--Y/N! Tell me when to stop!”

“I’m not--” Again, you were cut off by a loud burp from Seqii who had regained the wine bottle back from Emi.

“Who cares --hic-- how big he is. I need to know if his dick can --hic-- chop off like the rest of his body.” Emi hiccuped, her question earning a collective eagerness to know from the gathered group.

“Pleaseeee!” Esmeralda begged, latching onto your arm and shaking you. “I’ve told everyone about me and Mohji--”

“You and Mohji’s sex life is vanilla.” Emi started, making Esmeralda gasp.

“It is not vanil--”

“I want the juicy --hic-- details. Tell us, come on!” Emi finished, everyone quieting down again to watch you, waiting for any snippet you might give up.

You thought about it for a second. Thoughts that were fogged and blurred from all the drinks you’d had. Loose thoughts that had you thinking of all the dirty things Buggy did to you and you did to him.

Had his dick ever detached during your escapades?

“I don’t know.” You slurred on a shrug, earning a collective groan from the group. “I’ll ask geezzzz. But Buggy does this thing where he detaches his--” A loud thump sounded at the door, cutting off your story and earning yet another groan from a few of the girls.

Another thump sounded and you thought it reminded you of a body getting slammed into a wall. A body that kept fumbling back a bit before attempting to knock once more.

“Shit--the fucking boys are back,” Seqii grumbled as another thump sounded through the room. She grumbled some more as she stood, wobbly navigating her way through the collection of bodies sprawled over the floor. The door was flung open, letting in a chilled breeze that rose goosebumps to your skin.

Standing there, looking just as drunk and disheveled as the rest of the group, was Buggy in all his Buggy glory. His make-up smeared over his skin, his smile wide and bright, and his hat sitting a-skewed on his head, hanging on by some miracle.

“Captian Buggy!” The girls all cheered at his appearance. Buggy grinned widely as he dug his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“Girls! My loyal crew!” He cheered right back, pulling his hands from his pockets and into the air, wiggling his fingers in his excitement as confetti in a rainbow of color rained down onto the floor. You giggled with Esmeralda as more cheering filled the room.

“How’s your night going? Hope I’m not interpreting.” He said, a few of his words coming out elongated and awkward, but no one truly seemed to notice or care because you were all giggling, wobbling, drunk messes.

“You could never --hic-- interpret captain! Come in!” Emi said, her tone shifting the slightest bit to be more kind towards her captain. “Y/N was just telling us--” You shot her a warning glare that only seemed to amuse her. “How much she likes it here!”

“Oh was she? Heh. Good.” He said, stumbling into the room, Seqii shutting the door behind him. Those green-blue eyes found you and filled with that softness you had spotted here and there in them. A look that spoke to the same feeling thrashing about in your chest, wishing to meet it.

“Baby--ugh I mean Songbird--Y/N,” He finally got out. You’re name felt strange spilling from his lips, but you loved it just as you did hearing the nicknames he conquered up for you.

A few girls around the room gave giddy little laughs at the nicknames, which you shot them their own warning glares for.

“I always love to hear feedback from the crew. ‘Specially from you newbies. Helps me know what’s workin’ and what’s-” he gave a little burp in the back of his throat as he came to a wobbly stop next to you. “-what’s not.” He stammered on, waving his hands around as if to emphasize what he was saying, confetti that had stuck to his gloved hands falling into your crossed lap.

You huffed with a roll of your eyes as you pulled yourself up, bumping into his leg as your wonky vision threw you off balance. Strong, gloved hands grabbed you under your arms and helped hoist you up, making your face burn.

“Are the others back?” Esmeralda asked hopefully, sitting herself right-side up.

“Only lil ol’ me. Sorry, Es.” Buggy said, a hand falling away from your body only for the last to stay glued to your back. You leaned into his touch, loving the feel of his warmth, a warmth strong enough to seep through the white fabric of his glove and your shirt.

“Captian, before you drag our glorious singing songbird off, could we hear one more song?” Emi asked, raising the last wine bottle. “We still have this whole bottle left,”

“Sure. No skin off my nose.” Buggy said, turning to look your way with a shrug.

The room went deadly quiet at his words.

Breaths were held and prayers were muttered.

They were words that, under any circumstance would have gotten someone mamined--killed.

But as he looked at you, all that flashed in his eyes was that softness which had never once left them since his arrival. He looked--at ease, almost.

It was probably just all the alcohol he had drank that night.

Probably all the alcohol you had been drinking, making you see things.

“Heh. Nose.” He said, bopping your nose. You watched his grin grow wider--a grin that sparked your own to cross your lips. “Sing the one ‘bout that bottle of rum that’s hard to open.”

“Aye, aye Captain.” You said, giving him a little salute, which he wobbly gave back.

You instructed everyone who wished to participate to form a circle, snatching the bottle of wine from Seqii before you hopped into the middle, starting the fun and upbeat shanty about a crew of pirates who find a mysterious bottle of rum floating in the sea. A bottle whose cork was too tough for the captain to open, so it was passed around and around the crew, trying desperately to find someone who could open it.

Once the first verse was sung, setting the disastrous scene for your own crew, you passed the wine bottle to Buggy as you began singing the chorus. A chorus that spurred your captain to pass it to Emi who passed it to Esmeralda and around and around the circle of the bottle went. You followed it, skipping and hopping and dancing away as your crew joined you in singing the chorus.

You froze as the chorus ended, the bottle landing in Buggy’s hands on a last pass from Seqii. He winked your way, making your mouth run dry as he raised the bottle to his painted lips.

You almost forgot all about the silly little song you were singing as you watched him, but found the will in your foggy brain to sing the second verse. Buggy chugged and chugged, his throat working with each swallow of the liquid. It had your alcohol-flushed body burning up that much more.

The girls gave another round of cheers as Buggy detached his head and hands so that the rest of his body could do a twirling dance to the music you provided.

When the verse came to an end, his head and hands popped back into place and he quickly passed it to Emi who passed it to Esmeralda and so on and so on as you sang the chorus once more.

Several verses later, the bottle ran dry with a hiccupping hoot of triumph from Emi, who held the bottle high as you finished the song.

You gave a flashy bow as the girls and your captain cheered for you, blowing kisses here and there around the circle. Buggy detached a hand to pretend to catch one high up, holding it carefully in his palm as he put it in his coat pocket.

“Thank you, thank you! I’ll see you all bright and early tomorrow morning!” A groan spilled from a few of the girl's lips at the thought of what tomorrow held in store for them. Mainly; all the chores to be done that Cabaji, no matter how hungover, was sure to have to get done.

You looped your arm through Buggy’s and let him lead you out of the room, which you took one more look over your shoulder to look at your friends in their varying states of drunkenness.

“Ask him!” Emi mouthed your way as Seqii did the simple magic trick where one pretended like they were pulling their thumb from its joint…but she had positioned her hands at her crotch with a grin so wide it almost spilled off her cheeks.

You shook your head at their silliness and persistence to know of your private endeavors…but it had piqued your interest if not in the slightest.

The hall was chilled compared to the body-filled room you had both just been in, which erupted in more laughter as you shut the door behind you. A chill that Buggy’s body, instantly wrapped around yours, shielded you from.

He placed a big old, smacking, wet kiss on your cheek, making your heart flutter like some caged butterfly.

“That was so fucking sexy, songbird.” He said, words still coming out warped from all the alcohol he had drank against your temple.

“Oh yeah? You liked my little jig?” You murmured back, turning your face to steal a glance at those eyes you couldn’t look in long enough.

“Hell yeah. Got me all hot and bothered.” His lips kissed your temple, then your cheek, before latching them onto your neck. You hooked your fingers over the back of his neck and pulled him in closer, savoring the tingling sensations that shot over your skin at his sloppy affections

“Should I do another one?” In hardly the blink of an eye, Buggy grabbed hold of your hand and in a quick, sharp movement that had you wobbly all over again, spun you around and away from him.

“Please do another one.” He begged, eyes eating up your body as you fought to regain your steady footing.

“Aye, aye captain.” You laughed before starting to sing an upbeat shanty as you spun and moved your body to the phantom beat down the hall and around the corner towards the stairs. Buggy followed after you, joining you in song and grabbing hold of your hands here and there to give you a little spin.

When the song came to a close, Buggy gave a loud hoot that echoed back at him and mixed with your laughter. He was quick to scoop you up into his arms, lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss that had your alcohol-fuzzed brain going near blank.

“Sing again for me, songbird.” He asked against your lips. You kissed him again before pulling away, Buggy giving a little whine to let you know you had pulled away all too quickly. “Did you eat dinner?” Buggy rolled his eyes, his arms snaking around your waist once more.

“Baby--”

“Baby.” You insisted, wrapping an arm around his neck. “I’ll sing for you while you eat? How does that sound?” Light lit up Buggy’s eyes as he nodded several times at this, making his face, in your drunken state, go all fuzzy.

“I should really promote you to be my negotiator. You’re--” He gave another burp in the back of his throat that you crinkled your nose at in disgust. “Soooo good at it.”

“Only for you, Captain.” Buggy’s grin widened and he leaned down to claim your lips in another sloppy kiss, but you were quick to place a finger over his puckered lips. “Food first.” Buggy groaned dramatically, grabbing hold of your wrist to pull your finger from his lips.

“Fine.” He gruffed, all but dragging you to the kitchen so that he could eat and get on with kissing you.

The kitchen had been left in a state of disarray thanks to you and the girls ransacking its stores as soon as the kitchen staff left for the night. Kitchen staff you knew would set Cabaji on you all to clean it all up in the morning.

Buggy gave a groaning oof as he flopped himself onto one of the stools sitting before the island, plunking his forehead against the wood. You chuckled at him and opened the fridge.

“Why’d you come back so early, baby?” You asked, rummaging around for the leftovers you had saved from the diner you and the girls had gone to dinner at.

“I’m too old to keep up with the others anymore. Got tired.” He grumbled making you roll your eyes.

“Oh is that right? Then we should head to bed after this? Get my old man his full eight hours of beauty sleep?” You teased, grabbing your leftovers up.

Even in your alcohol-fuzzed state, Buggy having yet to snap something back at you was strange.

Turning around, fridge door shutting softly behind you, you found Buggy’s face buried in his hands, shoulders quivering.

Crying.

Buggy was crying.

It had panic and concern shoot through your chest rapidly, your leftovers abandoned as you rushed to his side.

“Buggy? What’s wrong, baby?” You asked, smoothing your hands over his back and arm to try and get him to look at you. To comfort and console him. “D-did I say something to upset you? I’m sorry, baby, you know I don’t think you’re old--”

“I missed you.” He moaned out. His words--they more than shocked you.

He had missed you. He had missed you so much he had left the bar early and was now crying about it.

It was…sweet. And doing nothing for that warm, fluttering feeling invading your every sense.

“You--you missed me?” You asked, gently grabbing hold of his hands to pull them away from his face. His make-up was done for, smudged so bad it had all but blended into his skin. His watery blue-green eyes looked up at you, only overflowing with more tears as he nodded.

“Baby I missed so much.” He whined, grabbing for your shirt weakly as if it was his anchor in the raging storm that was his emotions. “They can’t sing like you--they don’t know half the lyrics.” Tears continued to spill down his cheeks as he pulled you closer. “And--and I just--missed you.”

You smiled kindly at him, cupping his face with your hands and wiping away each tear that escaped his eyes.

“I’m here now. And I still owe you a song.” More tears fell from his eyes despite your attempt at comfort, his face falling against your chest as a sob shook his shoulders.

You were trying not to laugh--not to let that giddy feeling escape your chest through a silly giggle at your captain's confession. At the discovery that Buggy was a drunk crier.

You pulled his hat off his head, placing it on the island counter before going about taking his bandana off so that you could brush your fingers over his blue hair, which he had put in a singular braid.

“Fucking gods I missed you.” He sobbed again, burying his face deeper. “You’re--you’re just so beautiful and too kind to me.”

Beautiful. He was calling you beautiful.

Your heart was beginning to race with that feeling. With that overwhelming swell of that naggingly warm emotion.

A swell that the alcohol in your system was threatening to spill.

To spill the three words you had been struggling to hold at bay. Words that were just on the tip of your tongue--words that began to form and fal--

“And--And your tits are so soft and round and I missed them so much.” And that feeling was swapped with utter annoyance.

“Really?” You asked, placing your hands on his shoulders to try and shove him away, but his grip on you was iron-like.

“What? It’s true!” He moaned out mournfully as he nuzzled his face between them. You huffed, feeling just the tiniest bit hurt in that moment when you had thought you were getting a sweet, tender confession from your captain.

“You just missed my tits? Is that all you missed?” You snapped, Buggy’s face pulled from your breast so he could show you all that sadness welling in his soul.

“No.” He whined, resting his cheek again on your breasts. “I missed your ass too.”

“Jackass.” You grumped, yanking yourself away from the clown who gave another pitiful moan.

“Baby--” Buggy started, grabbing at your arms and hips to try and keep you close. You fought not to give in and fall back into his arms, especially when a wave of fresh tears were rolling down his red and blue smudged cheeks.

“I don’t think you deserve a song now, since you only missed my body” You huffed, crossing your arms and turning your head away from him.

Buggy moaned yet again, his head flopping onto the kitchen island once more and falling off. His shoulder drooped and his arms fell off, chop-chopped into pieces on the floor. It was a pile of chop-chopped limbs that continued to grow the longer you stayed away.

“Noooooo. I missed your voice.” He cried, his gloved hands inching their way up onto the island surface. “I missed you being mean to me and I mi-missed you takin’ care of me even when I don’t deserve it.” Those chopped hands continued to cross the wooden surface towards you like some strange spider. Fingers that brushed against your arm in a weak attempt to pull you back.

“I don’t deserve you--you’re too good for me. I’m a shitty shitty fool and you’re a perfect dove who's too bright for me.”

And now you felt like the asshole. Because none of that was true. Because Buggy was perfect for you in every way. He was more than you deserved. He was better to you than any person you had had a semblance of a relationship with had ever been before.

You didn’t deserve him.

“Buggy. No. That’s not true.” You started, going right back over to the chopped-up pile he had become. Buggy was quick to pull himself back together and was pulling you eagerly into his orbit once more.

“It is.” He cried, knuckles no doubt going white under his gloves at the tight he was holding onto your shirt. “I’m the East Blue’s biggest loser. The biggest in all the Blue Seas. You deserve someone who is better. Someone like that fucking shit-for-brains swordsman or shitty blond pretty boy.” You shook your head, gently pulling his fingers from your shirt to hold his hands tight.

“I don’t want them. I’ve never wanted them. I’ve only ever wanted you.” Buggy shook his head and you took his chin in a gentle scoop, keeping those sad eyes on you. “And I don’t think you're a fool. Not one bit.” Doubt and self-hatred continued to bubble in Buggy's watery eyes. Emotions you never ever wanted to see shining in them. Emotions you had put there.

It had your heart beating painfully in your chest. Had your hands sweating and blood running cold.

You were making him cry. You are a burden to him.

“I--I don’t deserve you.” Buggy scoffed at this, disbelief thankfully lessening those hurting feelings in his eyes. “I don’t. Before I met you--I was nothing. No one. Just an empty vessel floating around on some godsforsaken ship. A husk trapped in a cave. And now--now you make me feel--full. Like a real person. You make me feel so--so happy.”

“But you would be happier with--”

“I wouldn’t. I know I wouldn’t because I wasn’t.” Buggy’s bottom lip quivered in warning of another body-shaking sob. You couldn’t--wouldn’t see him upset. Upset over something you had foolishly started.

“I lo--” Your words lodged themselves in your throat. Words that had been threatening to spill from your mouth from the moment you had caught him singing your song to the night air all those weeks ago. Words your heart and soul begged to speak but your mind caged--bulling them away in fear. Fear of him rejecting such words. Words that were more than just words.

Words that sobered you right up, letting every last bit of panic flood your chest now that the dulling fog had vanished.

Buggy’s own breath hitched in his throat. That warm look you had spied in his eyes more and more often flashing through their watery depths. A warm look that was overpowered by those hurting feelings you had been trying to save him from.

“You are special to me.” You managed to croak out. Your heart was beating faster. So fast you were sure it was bruising itself against your ribs, making it hard to breathe. “And--and I want to be here. With you. And I don’t want you to feel that way. Not with me. Because--because you’re too special to me.” More tears fell from Buggy’s eyes and your panic gripped at your heart tighter.

Had you only made it worse? Had you said too--

A hand grabbed hold of your jaw, pulling you against Buggy’s smudged lips. Lips that kissed you soft and sweet.

He kissed you slowly. A slowness that spoke louder than any words he could have possibly said in that moment. A kiss that had your eyes sparking with tears right alongside his own.

You grabbed him closer, pressing your body against his as much as the stool would allow. But it was nowhere near close enough. It would never be close enough.

Your hands moved over his braided hair, down his stubble-lined jaw, and neck. Hands you moved under his coat to try and shrug it off his shoulder so you could feel his warm skin against yours. He chop-chopped his arms from his shoulders to let the coat slip off more easily. Arms that were instantly around you once reattached, hands finding their way under your shirt.

The kiss grew more hungry--needy, but that passion never once fled. A passion that burned through your heart, which struggled to keep the balance between your fluttering feelings towards this clown, and your darkened ones.

You felt the muscles in his arms work against your hands as he grabbed you up in them, laying you out on top of the kitchen island.

Random bottles and bits of trash you and the girls had littered it with clattered to the ground, but it hardly mattered. Not when Buggy was trailing a wet line of kisses over your jaw and neck and the swell of your breasts. Not when he pulled your shirt up to continue to leave opened-mouthed kisses along your stomach.

You breathed his name as he began to tug your brightly patterned pajama pants over and off your legs.

Those sloppy kisses attacked your calves and thighs--lips that turned biting every so often and had your body sparking, mind fogging in utter lustful need.

“F-fuck, Songbird,” Buggy spoke around a mouthful of flesh. “Always so ready for me.” You gave a shuddery gasp as a detached hand came to rest over your pelvic bone, thumb running over the thin fabric that still covered your dripping core.

“Always, captain.” You moaned out, reaching to feel over his cheek and jaw. Those damned fingers passing over your clit, sending a jolting shock through your near-burning body. “P-please--baby, I need you, please.” You begged.

“Let me taste first, baby. Please let me taste you.” He begged right back, his kisses growing ever closer to your weeping pussy. You whimpered but nodded at his request. A whimper that turned sharp and whiny when those wet kisses were placed over your covered core. Buggy moaned against you, tongue creating a dampened patch on your underwear right above your entrance.

“B-Buggy--please.” You moaned out, hips starting to ground against his mouth, fingers, and nose to create more and more beautiful mind-numbing frustration. Buggy cursed, that detached hand pulling away from your covered clit to start pulling your underwear down.

They didn’t get very far over your thighs when Buggy’s tongue ran through your folds. You cried out his name, underwear restricting your legs from opening further for him and all but clamping down around his head.

You couldn’t find the strength within yourself to stop rotating your hips against his mouth--to try to stop chasing your high long enough to loosen your grip on his head or make sure your underwear wasn’t choking him out.

But those chop-chop abilities handled all your worries.

His head detached from his neck, freeing your legs from their awkwardly folded position and allowing his hand to finally yank your underwear from your legs, giving you the freedom to hook them over his shoulders, granting him full access to your needy pussy.

His head popped back into place just as his tongue dipped into your fluttering core, lapping up every last bit of your ever-growing arousal in sinful slurps.

Your fingers wove their way into his hair, messing up that braid, as your hips ground against his mouth near frantically as that build deep within you began to wind. That detached hand crawled over your stomach and found home once more over your pelvic bone so that it could rub circle after circle into your clit, winding that coil ever tighter.

You moaned Buggy’s name like a prayer as he continued to fuck you on his tongue. As his own moans vibrated through you and set into motion that snapping release within you.

A release that tingled through your arching spine and sent that white buzz flooding through your thighs and core, which constricted around Buggy’s tongue.

You fell back against the counter, sweat making your skin stick to it and chest heaving up in down to catch your breath. Your fingers mused through Buggy’s hair, your thighs twitching and whimpering gasps falling from your mouth as Buggy’s tongue remained buried deep within you, licking up every last bit of your finish.

“B-Buggy,” You moaned, yanking weakly at his hair. “Ne-need you in me. Please.” Buggy mummed in acknowledgment, sending pleasure-filled vibrations through your sensitive core. You bit your lip as he continued to eat you out--as his fingers continued to rub mind-numbing circles into your clit that had your hips and legs twitching as if to try and get away from the persistent assault of your sensitive body.

“Buggy.” You whimpered, yanking at his hair just the sharpest bit tighter. He pulled from your core then, but not without trailing his drooling tongue back through your folds one last time. You wiggled your hips against the burning feeling that shot through you.

“M’kay, baby.” He murmured, kissing back up your exposed stomach to find your lips once more. The feel and taste of spit and your release had your mind spinning all over again. Had you hooking your legs together around his waist, pressing his hardened cock against your reignited arousal.

You moved to fidget with his belt buckle, spurring that detached hand to help you loosen it as well as yank his pants and stripped boxers down far enough to let his cock spring free, it tapping against your sensitive clit. Buggy hissed at the feel of your slick against the reddened tip of him.

You scooted closer, your ass all but hanging off the edge of the kitchen island so that Buggy’s cock lay flush against your throbbing folds. His lips left yours, resting his forehead on your collarbone so that he could watch as he split you open on his cock, that little whimper of his you loved spilling from his lips with every inch inwards.

You cradled the back of his neck as your walls flexed and adjusted for him, that shimmering pleasure starting that coil deep within yourself up once more.

“Fuck, songbird.” He groaned lowly as he bottomed out, his lips kissing the valley between your breasts. “So good--always feel so good.” Your lips kissed the bit of his forehead you could reach with a stratified hum. “A-always so good for me. A-always take care of me.” He mumbled, pulling himself out to his red-flushed tip before quickly thrusting back into you, pulling a gasp from your lips.

That shimmer turned into a pleasant buzz with each snap of his hips against your own. A buzz that built with each pass of sticky, warm skin, burning lips, and biting teeth.

Buggy’s sea-glass eyes found your own once more and you’re breath hitched at the warm emotions swirling within them. Emotions that stayed, not chased away by doubt or fear.

“I-I--you’re special to me, songbird. You--you make me happy. Happier than I’ve been in years.” Tears pricked at your eyes. Tears you fought against but ultimately lost to. Buggy kissed them away, his thrusts slow and circling to keep you closer.

“I--I think--” He hesitated, his breath huffing against your cheeks as he continued those shallow thrusts. Thrusts that allowed his cock to hit every last nerve ending within you, starting that white buzz you knew meant the coming of your second release of the night. “I--I missed bein’ ‘round you and it had only been a couple of hours. Fuck--you’re so godsdamn special to me it hurts, songbird.”

You huffed against the rise of emotions flashing through you. Emotions that only swelled that much more when he nuzzled his nose against yours. When he purposely brought attention yet again to his nose. His nose he protected against insult with rage and violence--but he was letting you near it--feel it.

He pulled away to look into your eyes again and you found tears were pricking at his own eyes once more.

Slowly, as to give him more than enough time to pull away, you leaned in to place a small kiss to that nose of his--a nose that complemented him and one you loved. Buggy blinked, those tears rolling down his cheeks. You smiled at him through your pants, wiping his tears away.

Your lips found his once more in a slow, open-mouthed kiss that brought you two that much closer.

That white buzz zapped through your thighs and spine and toes as it shot through down your core once more, Buggy’s name moaned into his mouth.

He moaned your own name into your mouth, cock twitching and balls pulling tight before spilling ribbons of hot come deep within you.

You both fell slumped against each other, taking in each other's air as heavy panting filled the air.

“I’m…I’m sorry for cryin’,” Buggy mumbled as he pet over the bits of your exposed skin he could get at. You placed a kiss to his neck, fingers messing with his braid.

“It’s okay, baby. Crying just means you had a good night.” Buggy gave that funky laugh of his, kissing your cheek as he made to look into your eyes once more. His smile, so bright and wide, nearly took your breath away.

“You’re right. I did.” His lips claimed yours in a kiss just as sweet as the words he had uttered to you moments ago.

“Hey…Buggy?” You asked once you had fully caught your breath.

“Yeah, songbird?”

“I was just wondering…what all can you chop off?” Buggy blinked at you in thought, not truly understanding your motives.

“Well--everything, I guess. Why--” Buggy cut himself off when he spied the mischievous smirk pulling at your lips. You clenched your tired walls around his softened cock in way of question. “Fuck, songbird.” He cursed, his pupils slowly growing larger in lust.

“Can it?” Buggy leaned so close that the tip of your nose touched his. It had your heart fluttering all over again.

“Want to find out?” He asked with a smirk to match your own.

“Yes, Captain."

Tag List: @lostfirefly , @fanaticsnail , @empressofmankind , @fanshavegottensotoxic , @wasabiprophet , @ane5e , @synoname-wordsmith , @cefni , @solarrexplosion , @luvrsbian , @misadventures0fdes , @friedtacokitty

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neverthelesshex · 6 months

Text

Jschlatt x reader

Dni if you're a minor-

SMUT SMUT SMUT

**I've been trying to enjoy christmas break before I go back to my crummy collage dorm srsly even though I'll have a good amount of free time for the first of my next semester but I gotta get that law degree✊️✊️**

Also were jumping right into smut guys

------

Jschaltt stares at your body pressed against the cold silk sheets, the silk kissing and hugging your body in all the right ways.

"You're so beautiful my love" he kisses your forehead tenderly massaging your clothed body, you softly hum at his words the aura was so relaxed everything was so nice.

"I'm gonna make sure this is the most passionate and loving sex of your life my love" he hums kissing your lips, you kiss back whining as he pulls away from the kiss, he softly speckles kisses all over your neck, face, and head before taking off your shirt, it wasn't rough like it usually was it was soft almost like he was scared if he took it off any rougher he'd break you into a million peices. He folds it and sets it to the side, gingerly un-clips your bra putting it with your shirt, he begins kissing you again, your collar bones sucking softly, moving down to your tits, kissing them,rolling your nipples with this calloused hands that made you rumble out a moan

"God such pretty noises y/n" he groans

He sucks and continues to tease your tits causing your core to leak sweet sweet slick,

He kisses down to your belly button and carefully takes off the rest of your clothing he takes off his shirt showing his glorious dad bod just seeing him dripping with sex appeal makes your core drip with arousal, he gets down between your legs softly kissing and nipping at your plush thighs more soft moans slipping from your lips your eyes rolling back from this.

Then finally he places the first kiss on your clit a heavy moan leaving your lips

"You're so wet baby" he wispers

He softly licks and suck on your clit making you see stars

"R..right there Johnathan-" you gruttle out

He doesn't respond but you feel his smirk on your core you feel yourself get ten times more sensitive his tounge feeling like a jackhammer on your clit your legs shake as your head lools back and you grip onto jshlatts hair

He makes you cum with his tounge 2 more times before dropping his pants being slow and careful with you slowly dragging the tip of his cock up and down your puffy clit soaked with spit cum and arousal fluid, then softly pushes into you burring his head into your neck leaving kisses all over your neck. He slowly starts to pump into you his 6inch filling you perfectly hitting all the right areas

"FUCK" you scream out his tip prodding at that special hard yet spongey area in you "please go faster this slow pace is torture" you beg

He shakes his head no going slower than before making your head reel and making you go dumb and desperate

"Please Johnathan, I've been such a good girl" you beg

"NOPE doll, soft sex, soft loving sex today" he hums but picks up the pace a bit getting a slow yet steady rhythm that's making your insides scream with pleasure you let out little grunts huffy and mmhphs as he bounces you on his cock after about 5 min you're screaming Cumming, legs shaking as he pumps his cum deep inside you.

After careee!!!

He grabs a dry towel and places it under you before getting a warm damp rag and cleaning your sensitive clit your legs spazzing he grabs you a fresh pair of his boxers and a warm baggy tee, combing your hair and putting it up for you before getting himself ready for bed, he brings you your tooth brush pre wetted with tooth paste on it, a water bottle, and a bucket so you can brush your teeth, you do that he kisses you before cleaning out the bucket and coming to cuddle with you

The end

Sorry this story is actually shit just missing my boyfriend✊️✊️, but enjoy ig

#smut requests #jschatt #jschlatt smut #jschlatt x reader #smut #jschlatt stuff #schlatt smut #crush smut

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ateriblewriter · 11 months

Text

It’s Kind of Funny (q.h)

requested: sort of but not really. they requested one thing and this is what my brain came up with but it doesn’t really go with what was requested but it kind of does at the same time? sorry about that.

warnings: none really

enjoy! let me know what you guys think (please)

y/n always loved the off season because it meant that she could spend more time with her beloved quinn, wether it was in vancouver or michigan. where they were didn’t matter, as long as they were together. it had been like that for years, until this year. this off season she was stuck in vancouver. with it being summer and all, many of her co-workers opted to take vacations, leaving the office short on people. y/n being the nice person she was, decided to take one for the team and work through her summer.

quinn planned on staying with his girlfriend but she knew he missed his family and urged him to go home to michigan to visit with them. to combat the fact that they weren’t going to be together, they set up a schedule with certain dates and times where they would sit down and chat over the phone. sometimes the call would take place over facetime, which often times of you were alone would lead to sexy times

unfortunately for y/n tonight wasn't a phone date night. after having a crummy day at work and desperately missing her quinn, she just really wanted hear his voice and maybe see his face. ideally she would love to curl up into his side as he held her, but she was going to take what she could get. and sure they had been messaging all day long but it wasn't anything compared to hearing his voice

"hey queenie. im a little busy right now what's up?" quinn inquired. he was currently out on the boat with his brothers and a couple of others. it wasn't the ideal place to have a conversation but since it wasn't a regularly scheduled time something must have been up.

even though it had been an unplanned call quinn was always willing and wanting to talking with his girlfriend. she was his everything. it had physically pained him when he had to leave her behind in canada. he wished like hell that he could have brought her along with him to michigan, but he understood how important her job was to her.

"i just need to hear your voice. today wasn’t good and i need you.” her voice was soft and quiet a hard combination to hear over the boat’s motor. but it had sounded a little bit off to him, there was a certain sadness oozing out of it.

"y/n? what's up? are you okay?” he pulled the boat to a stop as best he could. they hadn't started wake boarding yet, so no one was in the water. he could tell she was about to say something when he noticed the phone no longer in his hand.

"no phones quinn!" jack plucked he mobile device from his brother's grasp. there was a rule that bee put in place some time ago that no phones were allowed on the boat. of course they still brought them in case of emergencies, but that was their only purpose. this was friends and family time, everything else could wait.

"come one man, can i have it back? it's y/n" quinn tried to get his property back from his younger brother. "please jack."

"oh it's queenie? pass it here jack!" luke jokingly used the nickname that had been reserved only for quinn to use. the younger boy made grabby hands towards the thing in his older brother’s hands to which jack happily gave him, mischievous smiles dancing around their faces. holding the phone up to his ear, luke started to speak mimicking quinn's voice the best he could.

"queenie, darling, sweetie pie, my cutie patootie. you are the love of my life. i miss you so much. my love for you is endless. i want to marry you and have ten babies, three dogs, a cat and, maybe a fish!" the youngest sibling finished his little speech by making kissing noises into the receiver of the phone, causing everyone on the boat to erupt into laughter. everyone except quinn, who's face was beet red.

"luke come on. please, give it back" quinn began begging luke to stop and give him his phone back.

"but i'm not done talking to y/n. we still have things to discuss." luke giggled holding the device out of quinn's reach, coincidentally over the edge of the boat. “i haven’t told her about the big house yet!”

he had had enough. he was going to get the electronic back. climbing over his brother, quinn reached as far as he could and almost got it before the phone was knocked out of luke's hand. everyone watched in horror as the mobile device sunk to the bottom of the lake.

to say he was mad would be an understatement, quinn hughes was furious. y/n called him sounding like she was having a hard time with life and their summer distance and his stupid little brother had to go and dropped his phone.

"im sorry. i didn't mean for that to happen quinn." luke apologized profusely, but quinn wasn't listening anymore. sitting back down in the driver's seat, he turned the boat around, heading back for home base, so he could call her back on his computer.

y/n felt her phone vibrating in her pocket before she heard the deafening ringtone she programed into her phone letting her know that it was her favorite boy calling her. the caller was confirmed when she unlocked her phone, accepting the call and quinn's face popped up on the screen. once she answered and pleasant greetings were given, quinn listened as y/n ranted about her bad day throwing in an i’m sorry and a i love you every once in a while, and she did the same for him when it was his turn to complain about the people he was with.

“so what happened before?” y/n placed an elbow on the table and her head on her fist. she felt a lot better now that she was talking with her boo.

“it’s kind of funny, but it’s not funny.” quinn launched into the story of what happened after luke said what he did and why he was on a computer and not his phone.

“you really want to marry me? and start a family of ten with a couple of dogs and cats?” y/n joked about what the youngest hughes had said. a smile appearing on her face, that made quinn feel warm inside despite being thousands of miles away.

of course he did, he loved her and even had a ring picked out, he was just waiting for the right moment. the only thing he wasn’t sure about the ten kids. but who knew maybe a big family was in their future.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #nhl imagine #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #quinn x queenie #luke hughes #jack hughes

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shhh-secret-time · 3 months

Text

Part 2 is 21 pages. Part 1 was 16 pages. Combine that together and that's a 37 page request I pumped out in a day.

oops.

Warning: NSFW, Strong-Language, Dirty Talk, Slight Praise Kink, a bit of jealous behavior, mention of character death, bug violence(?), bit of PTSD

Pairing: Gunslinger!Kyle x Fem!Reader

When you finally woke up, the first thing that came to your mind was just how dry your mouth felt. You swallow roughly and it burns the back of your throat in a different way the alcohol of last night did. It felt like you were trying to swallow steel wool, forcing what little saliva pooled in your mouth down your throat.

The second thing was the fact the horse had gone back to a slow trot. No longer could you hear hooves on cobblestone. The wind was no longer whipping around your head and through your hair. The smell of the city long gone, now replaced with a deep earthy scent.

The third was the feeling of Kyle's arms still wrapped around you, one pulls away from your side for a moment. You feel him move around, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He presses his fingers into his heavy eyelids before returning them to the reigns.

Finally, all three things fall into place as you piece it all together. Kyle feels the way your body bolts up away from his chest and brings his horse to a stop. He pulls her off to the crummy dirt road and off to the side.

"Oh! I apologize! I didn't mean to fall asleep like that! I can't believe I just passed out!" Panic sets into your voice and guilt eats at you when you realize he probably rode all through the night.

"It's fine ma'am. I figured you could use the rest. Please don't take any offense or nothin' but you look like you ain't seen much shut eye." Kyle smiles at you holding his hand up to try and settle you.

"I-.... you’d be right. Still, that's no excuse. You're still a stranger, the fact that I just fell asleep like that..."

"A stranger you shot a man for. A stranger you saved from gettin' strangled to death. I never did get to thank you for that." He pauses for a moment as he gets down from the horse. Kyle takes the reigns with him, choosing to walk along aside the horse now. "I've only had a few people in my time willin' to do somethin' like that for me and I at least know their names."

It hits you like a brick. In less than twenty-four hours you got into your first ever bar fight, shot a shotgun, slugged a man with said shotgun, all but bribed the sheriff, ran off with a man who didn't even know your name, and then fell asleep on said man who didn't even know your name. You catch yourself staring down at the handsome gunslinger, breaking yourself out of the daze trance like stare. It was hard not to admire him; looks aside he's been nothing but a delight to you. It would have been all too easy for him to just dump you off somewhere, leaving you and your problems behind.

Instead, here he was. Walking alongside you and his horse, without even so much as asking you about your business. Why you wanted to go out West, or why you needed to hire him in the first place. You hadn't even told him how much you were paying him for all of this.

"Ma'am?" Oh, right, your name.

"I'm being all types of rude, aren't I? I'm sorry..."

"Ain't nothin' to apologize for. I figured you got a reason for keepin' secrets. If you don't wanna tell me, I ain't gonna make ya." He shrugs.

It takes you a minute to gather your thoughts, but when you do you finally gain the courage to ask him. "Why are you being so accepting about all of this? Shouldn't you be surprised or at the very least upset?"

"The way I see it, you saved my skin back there twice. Once with Knucklehead and the other with the Sheriff." He says sheriff with a sneer, "I owe you. Besides the way you begged the sheriff to let us go, I could tell you were in some kind of trouble. Wouldn't be right of me to turn my back on someone who needed help."

"So, what, you're just doing this out of obligation and the kindness of your heart?"

That makes him laugh again, but he quickly shakes his head. "Guess you could put it like that. Walk the righteous path and clear all debts sort of ordeal. But I don't think it goes that deep. Like I told the bartender last night, I'm just a simple fella tryin' to make a livin'."

You sit on his horse in awe, if this was an act he was putting on it was a damn fine one. You run your fingers through the horse’s mane, brushing out the sand and dirt on the poor creature who must be so tired. She huffs a little, but she doesn't move her head, so you continue.

After a few moments of walking and silence, you tell him your name. Your full name.

Every time you speak, he gives you his full attention, looking up at you with that gentle smile. You expect his eyes to widen like everyone else's when you drop your last name, your family was famous after all. Instead, he nods along and practices the sound of your name on his tongue.

He says it again and hearing it whispered in that voice of his sounds divine. Once he likes the way it feels and sits, he turns back to the road and keeps walking.

"Pretty name...like the way it sounds. I hate the fact that I ain't gonna get to use it much." His lips purse, talking like he's just mumbling to himself.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it wouldn't be real wise to be usin' your name if you're tryin' to go into hidin'. Even if we are on the road alone, I don't wanna take any chances. If I get in the habit of usin' your name, I ain't gonna wanna stop." He brings the rim of his hat down over his eyes trying to hide the blush on his face. Even though he says it with such confidence it's hard to look you in the eye.

He's not alone, his words have a greater effect on you than he knows. You pull the cloak still wrapped around your body closer to your form, burying your face in the material. Maybe you could just rub your flushed face away or at the very least it would buy you time to slow your heartbeat down.

Kyle was right about one thing. Your last name has brought you nothing but trouble your whole life. So, for now you'd get rid of it, toss it to the side like the various newspapers you saw littering the city streets. Let it drift away and be carried by the Eastern winds. It was time to leave the city girl you were raised to be behind; you were going out West now.

"The only thing I can't seem to wrap my head around." Kyle breaks the silence between you two again. "Is how someone like you learned to shoot like that."

"How do you mean? It doesn't take much to point a gun at someone and pull the trigger, can't really miss with a shotgun when you're that close."

"That's what I'm askin'. It don't take much to pull a trigger, but you knew how to hold it. Held her like you knew her."

"How'd a lawyers boy go from that to being a bounty hunter?" You ask, bringing up the little fact that Sheriff Cartman spat at him last night.

His lips press together in a thin line and for a moment you feel like you might have crossed a line. Said something you shouldn't have, but when his shoulders slump forward you can feel something different. It's not anger in his eyes, maybe regret? Hurt that rests behind those tired green eyes.

"I don't know why I'm tellin' you this. But we're gonna be together for a while, might as well make conversation I suppose." Again, he talks like he's not really talking to you. His inner thoughts spilling from his mouth like brandy in a bottle. "It was bandits."

Your blood runs cold, that could mean anything but, in this context, you had a feeling it wasn't a good one. Your fingers brush down the coat of the horse as he talks, finding comfort in the animal. You can feel the warm and gentle breathing coming from her. If you squint, you could almost swear they had lined up their breathes. She would take in an inhale, and he would let out a puff of air.

"Pa was a lawyer, Ma was a stay-at-home mama. He made enough for all of us and another. I have a baby brother they adopted when I was younger." He goes to tell his story with a little pause in between.

"You said have. He still around?" That question hurts to ask, but curiosity was gnawing at you. You wanted to know more about this gunslinger, that included the bad too.

"Yeah. I think it was when I was fifteen? Pa was puttin' me through school, was studyin' to be like him. I was gonna put away bad people just like him." He takes his hat off with his free hand, he stares down at the inside of the hat. You catch a glimpse of stiches and patchy line work. Past the scuff marks and tears on the old thing it looks like someone tried to patch it back together again. Enough to where it would hold up. But past that there was a little black and white picture tucked in the makeshift pocket of one of the patches.

A skinny man, honestly looked like a strong gust of wind could blow him away, standing next to the most gorgeous looking woman you've ever seen. Her hair was put up in a tight bun, curves on every ounce of her that made her look like something out of those fancy paintings. The dress she wore clung to her body and on her lap was a little boy. Black hair that didn't match the shade of grey on either of the adults behind him. He had a big toothy grin on his face as he held an outstretched hand for the other boy beside him.

It was Kyle. Much younger than he is now, hopeful looking face with his hair cut short and kept clean. The curls sat neatly on the top of his head, and he dressed like some of the men your father did business with. Fine button up grey shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks. A grey tie came down from his collar that disappeared behind a black vest. Still had that soft smile on his face as he looked at the camera.

He quickly puts the hat back on feeling your eyes peering down behind him. Again, you felt like you got a peek into something you shouldn't have seen. If he was bothered you couldn't tell, he just kept talking.

"Pa was always real good at that, puttin' bad people away. Could do it the civilized way, take him down and give 'em a trial. Rely on the system to put 'em behind bars and supposably reform 'em." He scoffs at that statement, "lotta good all that did. Pa put away the wrong man. Some no name bandit leader thinkin' he could take the short way through life and rob some rich folk."

Kyle stops, completely. Stops the horse, stops talking and just stares down at the ground below. You watch a little red scorpion scurry after its dinner. Stinger pulled back and at the ready.

"Men like that got one thing goin' for 'em. They travel in numbers. Numbers that don't like when you mess with their own. Pa wasn't even the man that brought that bandit leader in, but he was the reason why he'd never walk under the sun again. They were gonna keep that no named man locked away in the deepest parts of their holdin' cells. His men didn't like that idea much."

The scorpion chases the target down until they come to a ledge. Something that would be so easy for you to just step over, something that would barely be an obstacle in your way. But for the tiny bug that was fleeing for its life, it was the end of the road. It wasn't dexterous enough to try and make it over the little ledge, the path to freedom taunting it as it falls on its back.

"Don't really know what they were thinkin' or how they came to the conclusion. But they decided in the dead of night they'd...burn down the town? Came in on horseback makin' all types of racket. I remember Ma pushing my brother in my hands an' tellin' me to run out to where we kept the stagecoach. Somethin'-" He chokes and clears his throat to collect himself. "Somethin' about the horses already hitched and ready. To just jump on and wait for her and Pa."

The scorpion closes in on the bug. His stinger blocking the view of the sun, casting the shadow of death over the poor thing.

"I protested, wanted to stay and help her pack bags. Carry somethin' other than my cryin' brother." His hands clutch the sarape around his body, right where his heart would be. "She told me not to argue with her and to get my ass outside. Never heard her curse before..."

The bug kicks its little legs, trying to roll off its back. It squirms, fights, and rocks trying to do anything. Anything but die.

"I did what she told me. Go where she told me. You don't question your mama when she tells you to do somethin' ya know?" He licks his lips, and you wonder if they're as dry as yours are right now. "I put my brother and I in the carriage and I wait for 'em. Then...the house just...erupts. One of those sons of bitches threw somethin' against the side of the house and it catches a blaze."

Kyle closes his eyes, a bead of sweat drips down his face. Like he can still feel the roaring flames against his face. The poor man is standing there reliving it all.

The scorpion finally brings its stinger down. Strikes the pathetic creature in the stomach one good time. The venom does its job, you're sure if the little thing could scream out it would. Instead, it just goes slack, goes limp and dies.

"I... I didn't know what to do. I had just learned to drive the damn thing, so I grabbed the reigns and snapped it. If it wasn't for my brother, I probably would've run into that blazing hell. Probably be a dead man too."

"Probably." Your voice finally pipes up. Kyle looks up at you and you're not giving him the look of pity others have when he tells this tale. Your face is softened sure but there's nothing in those eyes that tell him you're looking down at him.

"That's the last time I saw 'em. Last time I said good night...I only wished I woulda got to say I love you."

The scorpion closes in on its meal. Now that it's not trying to run it figures it can eat in peace. Pinchers at the ready to pick the corpse up.

"I didn't. Spent a lotta time wishin', and a lotta time gettin' good with a gun. Pa taught me there were other ways to take a man down, not everythin' had to be solved with violence. We could do it humane like instead of usin' a gun. Just a shame I turned out to be a damn good shot."

Kyle starts walking again, and as he does, he walks over the scorpion. Crushing the creature under his heel without a second thought. You watch as when he moves his heel the thing lays there with the sand already started to claim it's body. You wonder if it got to at least get a bite of what it worked so hard for.

"So that's how you started bounty hunting?"

"Yep. Started with the assholes that took my parents from me and my brother. Guess they're the only people I never brought in alive."

"Really?!" That was a part of the man you didn't learn from rumors.

"I'm flattered you seem to think I had the ability to bring in fifteen men all by my lonesome, but no. I gave 'em the same treatment they gave my parents." Most men would be proud of that, say it with their chests out. Kyle doesn't, he keeps his eyes on the road and his head down.

"You burned them?"

"Set their whole lil' hideout on fire. Got a bottle of whiskey, drank some of it for courage and then tucked a cloth in the rest of it. Lit the sucker on fire and tossed it."

You try not to imagine the sounds that fifteen men on fire would make, or the fact that not even one of them got away. Kyle was a lucky man that there weren't a few to make it out of that fire that night. Who knows what would have happened if he was caught or worse, they lived to enact revenge like Kyle had.

"Took my brother to an old friend’s ranch and we stayed there for a while. You ever hear of the Marsh family?"

"Sure. They're famous ranchers, good at breakin' in horses and growin' crops."

"Their son is my best friend. I call that man my brother. Call him that until I take my final breath." A smile finally comes back to his face, talking about someone that means so much to him seems to put him at ease.

"Why'd ya leave?" You ask, letting a smile come across your face at the sight of his.

"Didn't feel right just sittin' around. Plus, if word got out that I was stayin' in one place I figured it'd just bring trouble. My brother didn't do nothin' so I asked if I could leave him there. Been out on the road ever since, I send him letters from time to time but it ain't easy gettin' 'em out to me so I just assume he's alright."

"You should visit your brother...I'm sure he misses you." You tell him. It almost breaks your heart the way his smile doesn't reach his eyes.

"With the reputation I built up, I'd only be bringin' danger to his doorstep. I couldn't do that to him or Stan." That must be his friend he mentioned, you note. "I take what I earn from bounty hunting and send it their way. Just because I chose to throw away the life our Pa had set out for me, doesn't mean he's gotta. Every nickel and dime I get goes to keepin' me goin' and buildin' a better life for him."

Your heart swells, swells with admiration and pain. It hurts to see a man who so clearly loves his family have to keep himself away from what little he has left of it. Who has to distance himself from the two people he'd call brother. Neither really blood related to him but they might as well be. You can't help but admire him, how he tries to carry all that responsibility on his back. You thought the tired look in his eye was just from staying up all night and riding into the morning.

"Kyle, that's incredibly brave of you. Putting yourself out there for your brother, if it means anything...I don't think you're throwing your life away." You find that courage you somehow mustered up last night and put your hand over his, the one that still has the reigns. He looks up at you, watching as the sun sits behind your head like a halo. You bend down a bit and get closer to him, whispering as if someone was listening in. "I think what you're doing is the most noble thing I've ever heard. You're the kind of man they talk about in story books...if I didn't believe in you before I do now. Thank you."

"For....for what?" He asks and swallows, his adams apple bobs. For the first time in a long time, he can't seem to find his voice, it drops to a low whisper.

But could anyone blame him? The way you look at him so gently, every little blink of your eyelashes has him sinking deeper and deeper into the color of your eyes. That golden sun behind you makes you look like an angel, and maybe you are one. As far as Kyle is concerned only an angel could look at him like that. Find a way to admire him and sing his praise after being told he set fifteen men to hell in a blaze of hate.

"For being you. I used to not think there were good men out there, but you're changing that." You say it like it's the simplest thing on earth. Like he should have just known the answer to that.

But when you say it, it's like being punched in the chest. You have your hands so tightly wrapped around his heart he's sure if you say anything else he's going to keel over. He lets himself have this moment, lets a breath escape his chest and holds onto each little word you said.

"Ma'am, you ain't got a clue as to what you're sayin'. You don't know me well enough to be passin' judgement like that."

"Hm. Good thing I'm a real good judge of character. A man as bad as you claim to be would've robbed me blind especially if he knew for a fact, I was carrying enough money on me to buy your friends ranch."

His eyes widen at that, he stares at you as if you just told him the sky was red and the rapture was coming. Kyle's respone catches in his throat, unable to say anything at that. You can't help but laugh at that, the sweet sound coming from your lips makes his knees weak.

You toss him the stained white bag of cash, the once pure white cloth now soiled by the desert sands. Dirt clings to it but that doesn't stop him from catching it and opening it up. True to your word, there was so much cash in here Kyle could probably beat a man to death with it.

"You walked into that damn saloon with this?!" Kyle yelled quickly, closing the bag.

"I risked a lot on trying to find you." You say with a little shrug. "Sold everything I owned, took what I could carry and set out to hire you."

"You're either crazy or desperate. Please, for the love of God don't take offense to this."

You laugh again and shake your head; you couldn't argue with him. He was right. Maybe you were both, but it was either this or get unlucky one day and go missing. You'd take your chances with the handsome man next to you. At least he wasn't a stranger much anymore.

"I just got tired of the life I was living. Heard there was good opportunity out West. Figured I could settle in Texas or...Colorado?"

"Colorado?! Ma'am if this is some elaborate plot to give me a heart attack just to take me out, you're doin' a damn fine job." He clutches the bag into his chest and takes a deep breath. Quickly he stuffs the bag into the saddle bag on his horse. She stirs a little and shakes her head letting him know that her patience is running thin.

"So, you're suggesting Texas?"

"It's better than fuckin' God damn Colorado!" The way Kyle's cursing picks up when he's stressed is kind of adorable.

Laughter echoes down the road all the way out of the state. You finally find yourself off the East coast for the first time in your life. The company you keep makes it all the better! Eventually you stop at the nearest town and purchase your own horse. You have to slow down a little because Kyle has to all but teach you how to mount her and how to keep her from freaking out. He's calm and patient with you the entire time, only laughing at you a few times when you forget to buckle the saddle completely and almost slide right off. He teaches you how to take care of her and you end up spending most nights swapping stories by campfires.

You're somewhere deep in the state of Missouri, where exactly you're not sure that's Kyle's job. The night sky hangs above your heads with the stars staring down at you. Each little twinkle makes you think they're winking down at you. Kyle's told you that a few of the stars have names and stories behind them, you let him ramble on about it for hours before informing him that you already knew all that. The look on his face alone was enough to make you laugh.

You must have laughed again because Kyle's looking up from the worn-out map up at you now. He has a lazy smirk, the corners of his lips hidden behind the scruff on his face that's starting to grow in. His hair just now starting to go back to when you first met him, he's shaved it off a few times since your journey much to your dismay. You complained for days when he first did it only to be met with an eye roll.

That was something you always noted, that whenever you would complement Kyle's appearance, he'd brush you off or find a way to deflect. Telling you that you were the pretty one or that you were just seeing things because you weren't drinking enough water. The heat was getting to you, and you needed to take some time by the shade.

But he really was a handsome man, the rugged look didn't really line up with his personality but damn if it didn't do something to you. Being next to the man for so long, having made the first real connection with another person for the first time in your life. Well, it was getting harder and harder not to see him in a different light.

Especially since every moment leading up to this point, Kyle would do everything in his power to protect you. Putting himself in harm’s way time and time again just to make sure you'd be safe. Bandits thinking the both of you were easy picking, Kyle's reputation didn't reach every corner of the country. And the few times it did, it only encouraged people like Knucklehead to try and take a shot at bringing him down. There were a few times people recognized you. Someone had put out missing wanted posters with your face plastered all over them.

Of course, when danger came rearing its ugly head, Kyle would be there by your side. At first it was a lot of him taking shots for you, you patching him up. Using those studies your parents provided, removing bullets, and cleaning the wound left behind wasn't exactly what you had studied but eventually you got the hang of it. Each time you'd scold him to be more careful, he'd argue that catching bullets with his body wasn't something he liked doing. And each time just as you'd finish bandaging him back up, he'd give you a look that had your heart fluttering. His eyelids would lower down, and his lips would part in just a way that made them look so kissable. But every time you'd think you got the courage to just do it, he'd pull away and wish you a good night. Disappearing in his tent as if he wasn't just staring at you thinking the same thing.

Little did you know he was thinking the same thing. Countless nights he'd stay awake at night, tossing and turning in his bedroll trying to get the image of you so close out of his head. It had been a long time since Kyle felt this close with anyone, much less got to share the road with another person. Those little moments where you'd brush your fingers over his exposed skin or when you'd wake up nice and early to make sure he got something in his stomach before riding off. It made it harder and harder to want to not make you, his woman. To not take you up in his arms and take you into his tent for the night.

But that's not why you hired him. Once he got you to Colorado, he'd drop you off, probably stick around long enough to make sure you were settled, and then be on his way. Leaving you in that state all by yourself and he'd return to wherever the road took him. That thought filled him with an indescribable loneliness, one he tried to keep out of his head. He tried to focus on how good he felt just being near you, savoring the moments he got with you now.

Like how pretty you looked when you sat next to the fire, back against a log that he dragged over to make it a little more comfortable. A book resting in your lap and a page between your fingers, some novel you both picked up and swapped back and forth. How every time you looked over at him thinking you could steal a few glances without him noticing, only to be caught in the act. Ever since he met you back at the bar you would avert your eyes from him and try to find something else to look at or pretend that you were looking past him. He found it so cute.

"Somethin' funny darlin'?" You don't know when he started calling you that, can't recall but every single time it makes your heart leap.

"Just thinking about that time, you were telling me about the stars. How I'm gonna miss this..." You say with a little shrug and smile, reaching down next to you to grab the bottle of wine.

"You'll still be able to see 'em in Colorado. In fact, I hear they're mighty pretty over the desert." He says watching you take a drink from the bottle.

"It's not the same." You wipe your mouth with the sleeve of your blouse, the red liquid staining the shirt. "It's not the same if you don't have someone to share it with."

It's Kyle's turn to blush a little, he gives you a little hum and a nod like he understands. There's a moment where he thinks his heart stops, but it thumps against his chest, and he finds it in him to speak up. "You always know just what to say to make a man flustered huh?"

"Since when have I talked to other men like this?" You ask scooting a little closer to him, that night wind pushing you a little closer to his warmth.

"I don't quite recall..." He mumbles meeting you halfway.

Kyle helps close the gap between the both of you until your thighs are touching. The material of his jeans brush against your legs, exposed because of the skirt clips holding your skirt to where they just cover your thighs.

"Think it would work on another man?" Your voice drops to a whisper.

His brows furrow at that and his face twists into a scowl. You watch the way his eyes narrow and darken a little. He huffs and you can smell the scent of coffee on his breath. Kyle doesn't say anything, instead he goes for the wine bottle in your hand. The man takes a swig of it, trying to hide the jealous feeling that's starting to creep up on him.

"Reckon it would... if you had the backbone to be talkin' to other men."

"What's that supposed to mean?" It's your turn to furrow your brows at him, they knit together.

"Just sayin' you ain't exactly a smooth talker with everyone you come across. I seem to remember a certain run in with that snake oil salesman that was tryin' to get you to agree to go on a lil' date with him." He taps the bottle against his lips a few times before taking another drink.

You take the bottle from him, crawling over his lap to reach the darn thing. You press your palm into his thigh and suddenly he's very aware of just how close you are to him. Kyle isn't sure if you're doing on purpose but either way it makes his dick twitch against the fabric of his pants.

He doesn't give you time to protest as he moves the bottle out of reach, holding it back just as you brush your fingertips against the cool glass. "No, I think I remember you fumblin' over your words and I had to come over and tell the fella you weren't interested."

Damn him. Damn that handsome red head for calling you out and looking so cocky while doing it. His smirk returns as he cocks his head down at you, the way his lips glisten against the campfire almost has you distracted. Almost.

But you wanted your wine, so you take another lunge for it. Pressing your body into him to try and climb over and snatch it back. His hand comes down to your waist, keeping you in place.

"Ah! No ma'am, I think someone's had enough. All that talk about flirtin' with other men ain't much like you. Think this is messin' with your head." He tuts and shifts you in his lap. He's hoping you don't feel the effect you're having on him.

"You know what I think Broflovski? I think you're jealous!" You challenge crossing your arms under your chest.

"That so? That what you think darlin'?"

"Why else would you be acting like this? You're acting like a damn child! Now give me my bottle, I'm a grown woman I can drink as much as I wanna!"

He laughs at that. Laughs right at your protests and the way you're pouting in his lap. It makes your face burn up, it makes you wanna hit him, makes you wanna kiss him until he shuts up.

"You're real cute when you get fussy you know that?" Kyle lets the compliment slip out of his mouth before he has time to think about it.

He knows better. He knows he shouldn't be flirting with you, shouldn't get attached. But that ship has long since sailed, he's been infatuated with you since the day you told him he was a good man. But fuck if it isn't getting harder and harder, especially with you sitting so pretty on his lap.

"Kyle Broflovski! If you don't start acting right!" You know the blush on your face doesn't help, the scolding falls on deaf ears.

"I ain't the one crawlin' into a man's lap for a bottle of cheap wine." He sets the bottle down beside him off into the dark where it no longer matters. That hand finds home on your waist, rolling his thumbs over the material of your skirt.

You suck in a breath and sit up on your knees, pushing them to rest on either side of him. "You're not just another man...that what you want me to tell you?"

"Can't say I wouldn't like it." Kyle's voice dips low, gravely and makes a shiver zip down your spine.

"If you don't want me flirting with other men..., why are you waiting so long to kiss me?"

"Oh darlin'," He growls and squeezes the back of your thighs, rough hands sliding up your skirt. "I want nothin' more but...you and I both know I can't."

"No, I don't think I do. Enlighten me." You're not letting him get away this time, there would be no running off to his tent to avoid this. You had him wrapped around your little finger, even if your heart felt like it was about to explode.

" 'Cause if I start kissin' you. I'm gonna keep doin' it..." He gets closer, sitting up to his full height just to graze his lips over yours. "Keep kissin' ya 'til I ain't go breath in my lungs left. Then I'll wanna take you in my arms jus' like this." He gives you a little squeeze pressing his chest further against yours. "I wouldn't be able to stop myself from makin' those sweet lil' noises come out of your mouth. Wouldn't wanna stop either."

Your breath hitches and you let out a soft little moan. You card your fingers through his hair, his hat was put away somewhere in his tent, so it left those gorgeous red curls unguarded. He groans and inadvertently bucks his hips up into you, the rough feeling of his jeans grinding up against your underwear.

"Fuck and if you ain't makin' it difficult. Talkin' like that makes me think you planned to get me all worked up. You ain't stupid, just about the smartest woman I've ever met in my life." He continues grinding his hips into you, rolling you over his growing erection. Kyle groans and doesn't even bother trying to stop the sounds coming out of his mouth.

"K-Kyle just kiss me already!" You whimper in his lap.

And he snaps, whatever wall he built up to resist you comes tumbling down. Just the way you say his name has him tossing all logic out the window. He grabs the back of your neck and pulls your face down towards him, crashing your lips onto his. His teeth almost knock into yours from how desperately he needs this, how much he needs you. It's like being able to stretch your legs after riding for days, or a cool drink of water after being under that blazing sun for too long.

That crackling fire that keeps your little camp sight illuminated doesn't give off nearly the amount of heat Kyle's kiss does. His chapped lips move against yours, somehow despite being on the road for so long they're still so soft. It takes a second for your brain to register that he's finally kissing you, after so long he's finally doing it. Before he can pull back, you press back into the kiss. Hands coming down from his hair to cup his jaw like it'll anchor you from floating away.

He kisses you again and again, each kiss turning more passionate. He goes from a desperate kiss to kissing you like a starved man. His tongue slips out and swipes against your bottom lip, when you don't open your mouth, he growls and pulls you down, so you're now firmly sat in his lap. The action makes you gasp, and he slips his tongue into your mouth, more than excited to explore the inside of your mouth until he finds your tongue. You poke back nervously and chase after the pink muscle. Finally, your tongues twine together, wrapped up in some kind of dance.

He kisses you until your lungs burn, desperate for air. In this silent little battle to see who would break first, it's you. You pull away from him and take in a large gasp. The lack of air and how heated the kiss was makes your head spin. Just as you collect yourself, he's on his feet lifting you up with him. You cling to him and wrap your arms around his neck, even though you know he won't drop you the shock of being moved so quickly like that caught you off guard.

"W-where are we going?"

" 'm takin' you to bed." He walks you over to the tent he's got pitched up, moving to your tent. Kyle bends down and gently lays you down on the bedroll. He sucks in a breath when he sees the way your hair's all laid out and how you've got your thighs pressed together. Lips wet and slightly puffy from the way he kissed you. "Now if you ain't the prettiest thing I've ever seen. Take your blouse off for me."

Kyle looks down at you with darkened eyes, heavy eyes filled with lust. He watches every single little movement you make. They watch as you slip the buttons of your blouse through the little slots holding them together. Watch as you slip the shirt down your arms painfully slow, far too slow for his liking. But ever the gentleman he simply hooks his thumbs in his belt and watches, rewarding you with a low hum.

"That's my girl." His praise all but makes you purr; you like the way he calls you his. "Jus' a lil' more for me. Take that skirt off." His hand slips up your skirt and taps the side of your thigh.

You do it, work the skirt clips off along with the skirt itself until you're left in nothing but your underwear. He tosses them to the side letting them land in your pile of bags. He tugs off his sarape and works his belt, the clinking of his buckle rings out. The only other sound besides your heavy breathing is the bubbling brook next to your camp sight. Occasionally, you can hear the horses stir, but right now all you can focus on is the way Kyle strips down to nothing.

Kyle lays his gun down carefully on top of his clothes before joining you under the furs used to keep you warm. His cock nudges against your thigh, twitching against how soft it feels. You let out a shaky sigh and peer down at it, the angry red tip brushes against your skin.

"I-is that going to fit?" You ask him suddenly a bit worried, but it melts away when he takes your jaw and kisses you again.

"Darlin' we can stop at any moment. But if you'll have me, I'll make you feel real good." His hand snakes down between you two and his fingers go to spread you open.

You let out a little moan and whisper a soft, 'yes' and it's all he needs to continue. His middle finger rolls your bud gently at first until you start to squirm and push against his hand for more. He applies enough pressure to the circular motion that has you seeing stars. He continues rubbing circles on your clit and your hips buck up against his hold. It felt so good.

You moan out in pleasure when he slides two fingers into your hole with ease, your arousal making it so easy for him. He pumps his fingers in you once or twice, pushing into that spot that has your back arching off the bedroll. Kyle keeps his fingers buried in you for a moment, spreading them out and curling them in a come-hither motion. His lips find their way down on your neck, leaving faint love bites. Sucking on the exposed skin with enough force to pull a loud moan out of you.

"Kyle..." A low breathless whimper escapes your lips as he comes off your neck with a pop. "Please, please."

"Sound so pretty when you moan my name like that. Shoulda done this sooner." He works his fingers in you again, thrusting them up into you over and over again. "Fuck you're so fuckin' wet."

You're moaning so loudly you're sure if you weren't alone on the side of the road you would have woken a whole neighborhood. When you try to muffle those moans, he stops moving his fingers leaving you just teetering on the edge. The knot in your stomach starts to tighten, he can feel the way your pussy flutters around his fingers.

"That's it sweetheart, let go for me. Look at me when you cum." He holds your jaw with his free hand making you look up at him.

Your eyes widen and as you finally clench around his fingers giving you that orgasm you desperately begged for. His fingers keep pumping in and out of you until you're whining, and tears are beginning to spill from your eyes.

"Shh, I know, but I gotta make sure you're nice and prepped for me darlin' don't wanna hurt ya too bad." Kyle whispers in your ear until he pulls his fingers out of you finally. You whine at the loss of contact, suddenly feeling so empty. You watch him bring his fingers up to his lips and swirl his tongue around the digit. "Think you're ready for me baby?"

"Kyle, please. I want this, I want you!" You whimper.

"That's a good girl. Roll over on your stomach for me." He leans back up and gestures for you to do as he says.

So, you do, you roll over on your stomach and just as you do, he tucks a pillow under your stomach. His hands glide up and down your legs until they find purchase on your hips. They tighten and squeeze around your waist pulling you back against his cock. Kyle glides you back against his member, grinding your wet pussy up and down his shaft. He lets out a soft moan and lets his head lull to the side.

"Oh," He says quietly as the tip of his cock nudges against your folds, "thaaaaaat's it." Kyle slips every inch of his cock into you slowly, dragging your velvet walls back against him. He pushes and sinks deeper into you until he bottoms out.

"O-Oh god." You bury your face in the bedroll. "Fuck feels so good."

"You have no fuckin' idea..." He grips your hips and begins slowly thrusting in and out of you, "how many times I've thought about fuckin' you senseless. How bad I just wanted to make you fuckin' mine!" His voice comes out in a breathless moan over your desperate cries.

" 'm yours!" You're a mess at this point and he hasn't done much but finger you and start a lazy pace. Each time he drags his cock out he pulls all the way out leaving you empty again. Only to push it right back in at that antagonizing slow pace, like he's trying to get you to remember every little vein on his cock. "Please just go harder, I can take I-I promise!"

"Yeah? Want me to really fuck you baby? I was gonna take my time with ya, show you just how badly I wanted ya." Kyle bucks into you with a sharp thrust making you bounce forward, "but listen to yourself, beggin' for my cock. Beggin' me to go faster. Do it again."

You bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut; the first time was easy you weren't really thinking about it. Now that he's making demands of you it makes you feel flustered. That embarrassing feeling of having him looking down at your wrecked form washes over you. When his fingers card through your hair and grip the base of your roots, you let out a shocked gasp.

"Darlin' I believe I asked you to do somethin'. I ain't exactly a patient man right now. Not from the way you're squeezin' me soooo tight." He nudges your insides with a lazy little thrust. All it does is make you moan and claw at the bedroll.

"Please Kyle! Please, please, please" You're reduced to nothing but moans and whines. Begging him to do something, anything!

He seems satisfied with that from the way he pulls you back against his chest. Pulling your head out from the bedroll and letting your moans ring out into the night. With a quick slap against your ass, he begins to pick up the pace. The length of his cock claiming you and pounding into you. Your heart rate spikes as he pushes into you deeper than his fingers could reach. He hits that spot in your pussy that his fingers hit earlier, the one that has you seeing stars and drooling. Kyle lets out a moan when your cunt tightens around him again, one that lets you know just how good you make him feel.

"So fuckin' tight. You take me so fuckin' good baby, like you were made for me. Made to take this cock. Fuck gotta feel you cum around my cock this time. That's it, that's it." Kyle grunts and takes his hand out of your hair. Snaking it around your form he grinds his fingers against your clit again.

Your eyes roll up to the back of your head from everything. The way his cock bullies your insides, how his fingers assault the already sensitive bundle of nerves, and the way he spouts filth in your ear. The praise makes you feel so good, puts you in a head space you've never been in before. The only thing you can think about is what he tells you to. Right now, he wants you to cum around his cock, so you do. You don't even register it until it happens. Until his hips begin to lose that rhythm and he stops pulling out as much.

But when your walls clamp down around him like they had done his fingers, milking him for everything he's worth, he lets out a low moan. He calls your name, not a pet name or the fake name that you've been accustomed to. Your name.

"That's it baby. Fuck I love you, fuck I love you." There isn't so much as a second thought as he just repeats how much he loves you. After one final hard thrust he's spilling into you, filling you with his hot cum. He empties until it's dripping down your thighs, creating a white ring around the base of his cock.

Both of your bodies were wet with sweat from being pressed together. What little strength he has keeps him from collapsing on top of you. His chest pressed against your back, your hearts beating in unison. Eventually Kyle sits back up and slips his cock out of you, carefully lowering you down onto your bedroll again.

You look up at him with an exhausted smile, absent mindedly pushing stray curls out of his face. He looks down at you and smiles in return, he takes your hand and kisses the inside of your palm. That afterglow of sex that clings to you and the way you look disheveled has to be his new favorite sight. You guide him down towards your chest and let him rest his head against your heartbeat. He closes his eyes and holds you close.

"I love you too." You say after a while, not sure if he's asleep or not from the way he hasn't stirred.

"Be mighty awkward if ya didn't." Kyle murmurs in between your chest, placing a gentle kiss onto your collarbone.

"Took you long enough to confess." You joke.

"Yeah...don't know what I was thinkin'. Guess I just didn't wanna put them feelin's out there if you weren't inclined to stick around. You got dreams of settlin' down somewhere quiet..."

"Nothing says you can't be there with me when I do."

"I don't know if I could ever go back to a quiet life like that...I don't think I deserve somethin' like that."

"Oh hush." You cup his face and bring it up to yours. "Don't ever wanna hear you talk like that again Broflovski. You're a good man, I told you that before. I don't love bad men."

"You ain't ever been wrong before."

"Wasn't wrong when I went out to find you all of them months ago. I ain't about to start."

"Ain't?"

"Huh?"

"You said ain't. Never heard you talk like that before, usually you talk all proper like. I think you're pickin' up my accent."

"Go back to laying your head down!" You huff and shove his face back down into your chest which only makes him chuckle.

"If I get to wake up to somethin' like this every day.... I reckon I can see myself settlin' down. Maybe we can get a little farm, start our own little ranch."

"I like that...we can send a letter to your brother, and he can join us."

Kyle smiles warmly at that. You remembered his brother, that conversation on the road that started all this. He closes his eyes and begins to picture it all. You and him tucked away in some area in Colorado with his brother who he hasn't seen in years. Maybe down the road you could change your last name to his. His hand finds yours and he rubs his thumb over your ring finger. Imagining a little metal ring, one that matches his.

The road’s starting to look a lot less lonely.

<- Previous Chapter

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slicznymartwy · 10 months

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billy lenz x gn!reader (established)

when billy finally gets caught by your housemates. notes: just something short i wanted to write for billy hehe. stand alone blurb with some reference to nsfw but nothing explicit. kind of stupid and mostly for myself <33

Billy closes the door behind himself with a soft click. You feel a bit like Pavlov’s dog when you sit up, eyes finding his shadowy figure easily despite the complete lack of light. There was no moon or stars in the sky, only rolling black clouds that came in the afternoon and threatened to ruin the entire weekend.

He stands still until you smile at him, settling back against your headboard as you watch each other.

You don’t need to talk. You know why he’s here, and he knows what he can take from you. He waits until you gesture him to come closer, and he takes uneven steps towards your bed like he’s walking on a rocking boat.

He kisses you like he loves you, and you can forget that he lives in your attic for a little while.

In the morning, you can feel Billy sleeping beside you. Opening your eyes, you can see his mess of frizzy hair against your silk pillows, a strange sight that you realize you’ve never really seen before. He’s usually long gone before you open your eyes, his side of the bed messy but cool, like he was just a ghost visiting you in the night.

You glance out your window to make sense of the time - it’s a grey and cloudy morning, and with a start, you shoot your head to look at the clock on your bedside. Finally recognizing the sound of your housemates from downstairs, you realize it’s nearly noon. It wasn’t uncommon for you to leave your alarm off on a Saturday morning, but you’ve never slept in this late, especially not with your secret visitor.

You shake Billy awake, but he pushes your arm away with a muffled sigh. He nuzzles deeper into your pillows and, feeling panicked and annoyed, you poke between his ribs. Billy squawks and smacks your arm in response, which you gasp at. You hold your arm in pain as you sit up.

“Wake up,” you hiss. “You need to go.”

Billy puts your comforter over his head and ignores you. Sighing, you can’t help but feel sorry for Billy. You know he hasn’t slept on a real bed for months now, so you couldn’t really fault him for wanting to stay put on such a gloomy morning. It doesn’t change the fact that he needs to make himself scarce, and quickly.

Apologetically, you rub where you think his arm is under the comforter.

“It’s morning, Billy. Someone’s gonna see you.”

You can hear Billy sigh as he starts to really wake up, finally understanding why you were so persistent. He sits up, letting the comforter fall off his naked torso, and rubs his eyes before looking out at the crummy weather.

“I’ll walk you to the attic,” you tell him, getting up from your bed and searching for your clothes. You can feel Billy’s eyes on you before he does the same, pulling on his jeans and sweater without wasting any more time.

He meets you at your bedroom door, and you pause a moment to fix his hair; it stands in a million different directions after what you two got up to the night before. As you comb it with your fingers, he scowls and tries to duck his head down. It doesn’t matter anyway, you’ll get him back to the attic before anyone can see him.

You leave first, looking up and down the hall before creeping towards the attic entrance by the top of the stairs. With the coast clear, you gesture him to follow and he does, his steps quieter than your own.

You’re almost there when someone suddenly runs up the stairs. You both look to each other, panicked. Billy looks between your room and the attic, but neither is close enough for him to escape to without getting caught. You share one final frenzied look at each other just as Phyllis comes face to face with the two of you. She freezes on the top landing and stares at the man.

“Morning,” you say, with a strained smile. You stand in front of Billy, who you’re sure is staring wide eyed at Phyl given her concerned expression.

“Morning,” she says slowly. “Who’s this?”

You look up at Billy like you hadn’t realized he was with you. Sure enough, his expression is haunting as he gawks at your housemate.

“Oh! This is… a friend. From the chemistry department,” you say.

“A friend,” she repeats, giving you an unimpressed look.

“We were studying,” you say.

“Uh huh.” She looks at Billy. “What’s your name?”

Billy doesn’t answer.

“He doesn’t talk much.” You wince, grabbing a hold of his arm. “He’s gotta get going. Busy day.”

“I bet,” Phyl says, watching you both try to sidestep her down the stairs. You make it to the foyer, even with Billy dragging his heels a little bit once he realizes he’ll have to go outside.

Luck isn’t on yours or Billy’s side, as Barb catches you both next, leaning against the doorway to the living room.

“So, this is the mystery man we’ve been pretending not to hear all night,” she teases, arms crossing over her chest. Billy stares at her like he stared at Phyl and you sigh.

Putting your hand on his arm to fruitlessly try to get his attention, you tell her, “He’s just leaving.”

“Why? He can stay for lunch,” she offers, but you know better than to take it as selfless kindness.

“I don’t think so,” you say, as you start to pull Billy towards the door. You take your scarf hanging from the coat rack and wrap it around his neck and then place an umbrella in his hand. He tears his gaze away from Barb for long enough to look at the umbrella with disdain.

“Sorry,” you say to him quietly. You kiss the corner of his mouth, and his eyes return to their wide surprised look. You smile at him apologetically before opening the door and throwing him out to the rain.

“Brutal,” Barb comments. Watching his shadow through the stained glass.

“He’s busy. He’s from the chemistry department,” you continue the lie.

“Oh, I bet there’s a lot of chemistry going on between the two of you,” she smirks.

Outside, Billy struggles with the umbrella, cursing every slut he’s ever seen and met.

#billy lenz #black christmas (1974)#billy lenz x reader #slasher x reader #₊*. ⋆༘ — uli writes

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writtenonreceipts · 9 months

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Rowaelin Month Day Fifteen: Meet the Parents @rowaelinscourt

Month Masterlist Hey, Neighbor Masterlist

The titles for this are getting increasingly more stupid. My humor is also getting increasingly more stupid. Anyways…please forgive the crummy formatting...

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Hey, Traitor

>>Aelin: can i ask you for a favor?

Rowan stared at the message for longer than was necessary. He’d had Aelin’s number for a while now, and she’d had his. But their texting hadn’t been anything worth mentioning. In fact, he’d wondered if Aelin had regretted exchanging numbers. But here she was at eight in the morning requesting his help.

Sitting back in his seat, Rowan glanced at his phone one more time before answering.

<<Rowan: What’s up?

>>Aelin: If I leave a key hidden outside my door, can you check on Fleetfoot for me tonight? Something came up and I won’t be back until late. She’ll be cooped up all day. <<Rowan: Yeah, not a problem. >>Aelin: Are you sure? I only have time to swing back home for a minute for the key thing. I know you're busy. <<Rowan: Aelin, it’s fine, I don’t mind. <<Rowan: … is everything ok?

She didn’t respond as quick as the other times and it wasn’t long until Rowan got distracted with other things that had come up.

He was off for the next two days, which he wouldn’t complain about. The ski slopes and trails had been getting dumped with snow over the last several weeks which had made for long days of rescue and clean up. It was the first break he’d had in ten days and while he was eager to simply relax--he owed it to Aelin to help her out.

After a quick home workout followed by a smoothie, he was going to get started on some paperwork for reapplication on his certifications. There were things for his firearms, physicals, and CPR renewals. They always ended up needing to be taken care of around the same time. It didn’t help that he tended to put it all off until the very same day.

His phone lit up with an incoming call and Aelin’s name flashed on the screen.

“Galathynius,” he greeted.

“Rowan,” she said, the usual lilt of amusement to her voice was strained but all he could really focus on was the way she said his name. “Fleetfoot is in a mood, so I’m sorry about that. But I think I should be back by seven tonight. If you could just make sure she gets food at five? I’m sorry again to ask you—”

“I have the day off,” he said, gently cutting her off. “It’s really not a problem.”

Aelin exhaled slowly as she considered what to say next. Rowan thought about teasing her—it was so unlike her to be speechless and frazzled, but he thought better of it.

“Alright,” she finally said. “I’ll let you know when I’m back. Her treats are in the cupboard above the sink. Don’t let her fool you, I do not starve her.”

Rowan chuckled at that. “Noted.”

“Thanks,” Aelin said, Rowan heard the ticker of her car go off quietly in the background. “I can pay—”

“Knock it off, Aelin,” Rowan said. He was a bit firmer on this than he meant to be, but hell--this was probably the least inconvenient favor someone could ask of him. “I’ll go pick the demon up now.”

A small pause. “She’s an angel, but alright.”

“Bye.” Rowan hung up before she could try and offer to pay him again.

He shook his head before standing and heading to the door. No use letting Fleetfoot be by herself when he was home anyways. He crossed the hall and started to unlock the door when he heard the dog on the other side, nose snuffling at the bottom door jam.

Rowan barely had the door open when Fleetfoot wedged her way through and tried barreling into him.

“Demon dog,” he muttered. Fleetfoot wiggled excitedly and bumped into his legs. Crouching down, Rowan gave Fleetfoot her scratch after scratch. “Yeah, yeah. Attention starved, just like your momma, huh?”

Fleetfoot whined and tried licking his face. It was only ten in the morning and Rowan suspected the dog hadn’t even been left alone very long, but she was already eager for company.

Rolling his eyes, Rowan ushered the dog back inside Aelin’s apartment.

“We’re going on a fieldtrip, girl,” he told Fleetfoot.

The dog, simply happy to have the company, pranced around the apartment as if showing off every corner to Rowan. She even grabbed one of her toys laying on the floor and brought it over to him. She dropped it at his feet before running off to find another toy. And another.

Hanging on a hook next to the door was a leash, studded with chew marks, that Rowan grabbed. He also took the small roll of poo-bags on the entry table. There was no way he would make it through the afternoon without getting Fleetfoot outside. And he figured Aelin wouldn’t mind if they just took a quick trip around the park.

The apartment was a mirror of his own, but Aelin had obviously gone through more of an effort to make hers a home. Between the dozens of pictures hanging on the walls, the large bookshelf stuffed full of books and bookish paraphernalia--Aelin had gone through a lot of effort in making things comfortable and real. Rowan had always been moving or too busy to ever stay in one place very long. Hell, the two years here in Terrasen were the longest he’d been anywhere that he could remember. He didn’t even have a picture hanging up aside from a gag gift his cousin got him ages ago.

Shaking his head, Rowan went to the kitchen and grabbed the treats that Aelin had indicated. And then, because Fleetfoot sat so neatly before him, he tossed her one of the treats. He also made sure to grab Fleetfoots food and water dish with the portioned cup and a half of dog food.

Fleetfoot seemed to gather something new was going on because she kept dancing around the kitchen whining.

“Let’s go,” Rowan encouraged and Fleetfoot bolted for the door. “Easy now.”

He made sure he had everything he needed before slowly cracking the door open. Despite her rambunctious energy, Fleetfoot behaved and waited for him in the hall while he locked up Aelin’s place and led the dog to his.

As Fleetfoot explored all the new smells and sights of his apartment, Rowan stored the gathered items and made sure he set out fresh water. He’d never had a pet himself, the closest he’d gotten was when he was a kid he’d tried to capture a hawk out in the woods. All he’d succeeded in doing was getting burs all over his clothes. But it had also given him a love for the outdoors.

Now as Fleetfoot bounced around his apartment, Rowan found he didn’t mind the extra company.

“Wanna go for a walk?” Rowan asked.

Fleetfoot froze, nose buried between the cushions of his couch. Her ears perked up and her tail twitched.

“Let's go,” he encouraged. And that was all the dog needed.

…

Aelin’s phone buzzed once more as she piled into her car after the miserable day of screaming clients and incompetent bosses. She expected it to be another picture of Fleetfoot—Rowan had been keeping her well supplied with them--but instead saw it was her mother calling.

Hell.

“Hey mom,” Aelin said into the phone. She balanced it against her shoulder as she settled into her seat. “Can I call you back—?”

“Your father and I are coming over.” Evalin spoke over Aelin, likely not ever hearing her daughter to begin with. “We have another box of your old things.”

“Now?” Aelin asked. Of course they had to pick the worst times. “Mom, it’s been a long, miserable day. I just want to snuggle my dog.” She started the car and waited for the Bluetooth to connect. “Can’t you come tomorrow?”

“We’re already on our way,” her mother replied breezily. “Tell Rowan we’ll see him soon!”

“Love you, Fireheart!” her father yelled from the other line.

“Wait!” Aelin yelped but the call was already disconnected.

Why did the universe hate her?

Cursing the entire way that she drove home, Aelin debated what do to. She doubted she would make it to the apartment first and if Rowan were watching her dog, she wanted to give him a heads up for her parent’s arrival. Not that it was a big deal. Even if her parents were still under the impression that she and Rowan were dating, watching someone’s dog for the day didn’t mean anything. And Rowan had actually gone out into the mountains to run Fleetfoot through the trails, he probably wasn’t even home. The last picture he’d sent her was of Fleet devouring a pupcup from Starbucks. So maybe he was out of the house. Which meant she had nothing to worry about.

Right?

Still, as she parked her car and ran inside her building, Aelin tried to call Rowan.

“Pick-up, pick-up, pick up,” she chanted as the call continued to ring through.

She slid into the elevator that an older woman held for her. She smiled gratefully as she entered. When she was going to press the button for her floor and found it already lit.

“Oh,” Aelin said in surprise. “Hi.”

It wasn’t strange to have someone book the same floor, but Aelin had never seen this woman before in her life. Except there was something…familiar about her…

Hell in a handbasket.

Aelin fumbled with her phone and spat out a text.

>>rOWAN?? I tnk we have a shitation

She didn’t care for the errors or messed up spelling. Because if there was one thing Aelin would recognize anywhere--it was those pine green eyes.

>>ROWAN >>ROWAN >>RO

“You wouldn’t happen to know Rowan, would you?”

Aelin nearly dropped her phone, trying to wipe the guilt from her face.

This had to be worse than nearly falling down a ravine.

“Yeah, actually, we’re neighbors,” Aelin said. She even managed a smile. Though she was seconds away from crawling out the top emergency hatch of the elevator. She could do it she watched plenty of crime shows, how hard could it be?

“He’s lived here two years and hasn’t had me over.” Mrs. Whitethorn rolled her eyes. “Though, I do live across the country.”

“It took me a full year to actually learn his name,” Aelin said, “he was really cranky for the majority of that time.”

Mrs. Whitethorn laughed. “He’s always been difficult.”

The elevator pulled to a stop as Aelin’s phone buzzed with a text. Rowan had gotten back to her, too late.

Rowan: Help. Crisis. You know how I feel about socializing. Rowan: AELIN?!

The doors opened and Aelin fought against every cell in her body to not burst forward and streak down the hall to her apartment--only to find that the hall was filled by her parents. And Rowan. And her dog who was far too overjoyed by being surrounded by so many people.

Fleetfoot whined and tugged against her leash. Rowan glanced up at the commotion and the look of relief at seeing her followed immediately by existential dread that Aelin wished she could have enjoyed more.

“Ma?” Rowan’s strangled voice rose at least two octaves as he stared at his mother getting off the elevator beside Aelin.

“You have to start answering your phone dear,” Mrs. Whitethorn said.

“I was busy,” Rowa replied, his words stilted as he looked to Aelin for help. But truth be told she was going to be useless in saving them from this mess.

When Fleetfoot gave another hard tug on the leash and Rowan released her.

The dog barreled down the hall to Aelin with barely constrained enthusiasm. Aelin gratefully took the opportunity to ignore everyone and come up with a plan.

“Hi sweet girl, did you have a good day with Rowan?” she asked as she gave Fleetfoot a good pat down. The dog only wiggled and yipped and tapped her paws.

She had to come up with an excuse something to say because her parents, who thought she and Rowan were dating, stood in front of her apartment sharing significant looks and Rowan’s mother was now starting to look at Aelin with new interest. This was going to turn into a cluster. And absolute cluster of all fu--

“Ma,” Rowan said again when it was clear Aelin was going to be the problem child in this situation. “You met Aelin, these are her parents, Rhoe and Evalin.”

The brief greeting gave both Rowan and Aelin a chance to collect themselves and have a brief staring contest that miraculously resulted in a form of communication.

No this was not going to end well. The lie must persist. I am so sorry.

“Please call me Iona,” Mrs. Whitethorn said as she shook Rhoe and Evalin’s hands. Her gaze immediately cut to Rowan. It was a look only a mother could give her child. “I’m just making sure my son hasn’t gotten into too much trouble, seeing how busy his schedule’s gotten.”

Aelin swore she saw Rowan’s cheeks redden. Oh she did like the woman.

Rowan looked ready to die as he ran a hand through his hair. “I was helping Aelin out today with Fleetfoot.”

Miraculously the dog remained on her best behavior as she leaned into Aelin’s legs, accepting head scratches.

“Because he’s such a good boyfriend,” Aelin added. She wasn’t exactly sure why they had to continue this facade; it wasn’t like her parents would actually care (aside from trying to start setting her up with other men again). But it seemed like a natural thing to do and Rowan didn’t put up a fight.

“It wasn’t a problem,” Rowan said, “once I remembered Fleetfoot is exactly like you and needs constant snacks, we were fine.”

“Haha.” Aelin would have flipped him off if the circumstances were different. Instead she settled on a smile that promised payback in one form or another. She waved her keys in the air. “Let me get Fleetfoot inside and I’ll get that box from you dad.”

Maybe it was cruel to leave Rowan in the hall with the two mothers, but Aelin was still trying to figure out a way to end this mess without getting roped into any other appearances as a couple. Plus, she just wanted to snuggle her dog.

“It’s just some of your old trophies and awards we didn’t want to throw out without your say-so,” Rhoe said, settling the box on Aelin’s couch. He glanced back at the open door then at Aelin. “You only let Aedion watch the dog.”

“He was busy,” Aelin said. She made sure Fleetfoot found her favorite toy before facing her dad. “And Rowan owed me a favor.”

Maybe. She couldn’t remember exactly what the tally was. Maybe they were even now.

“Right, sure,” her father simply nodded along, obviously unconvinced by her words.

“So you drove all the way out here to drop off a box of crap?” Aelin asked. She nodded to the hallway. “Aren’t meddling or anything?”

Rhoe only laughed and came over to drop a kiss to Aelin’s forehead. “Us, meddle? Fireheart, we wouldn’t dream of it.”

It was the biggest lie he’d ever tried to tell her.

After that it was easy enough to get her parents out of the building, they were going to meet friends for a late dinner and drinks. Aelin was never more grateful to send them off far, far from here.

When Iona tried to invite Aelin over to Rowan’s for ice cream (Aelin highly doubted Rowan knew what ice cream actually was) she was able to finagle out of it. Rowan insisted Aelin had a long day and needed the rest of the night to relax. Aelin had never been more grateful.

As lovely as Iona was, Aelin wasn’t sure she could spend any more time pretending about her and Rowan’s relationship. It seemed…wrong to do so. And, really Aelin didn’t much like lying.

So when she was finally back in her apartment and able to collapse on her couch with a bag of chip and glass of wine—Aelin finally felt like she could relax. And she needed it. Her day had been long and stressful after several clients hadn’t finished there edits on time causing a pushback in the next addition of the magazine. Meaning Aelin had to spend more of her time editing instead layout design and her own writing.

It simply had felt like nothing could go right. So now, curled up on the couch, Aelin let out a long sigh.

Fleetfoot lay in her bed across the room, letting out a long huff.

“C’mere, baby,” Aelin called, holding out a hand. “Come snuggle.”

Fleetfoot ignored her and instead huffed again.

Sometimes the dog got an attitude, but after the entire day apart Fleetfoot usually enjoyed settling on the couch beside Aelin for a lazy night.

Aelin glared at her dog. “You want to go see Rowan don’t you?”

Fleetfoot’s ears perked just a little as her dark eyes shifted to the door.

“Traitor,” Aelin said.

She took a long sip of her wine and started one of her shows.

Not long later, her phone buzzed with an incoming message.

Rowan: that could have been worse Rowan: a lot worse Aelin: ehhh, my dad may try inviting you over for sunday dinner soon. Aelin: he’s very tired of the fact mom and i don’t watch football Rowan:we can move to Washington. They have mountains and forests and coffee Aelin: oh you're in on this now? Rowan: my mother has sent me ten messages in the last three minutes, all about you…I think she likes you more than me

Aelin grinned at her phone, unable to help the warmth seeping through her body. She tugged her sweater up, gnawing on the seam as if trying to keep that smile secret even if she was alone in her living room. She hadn’t made the joke about randomly moving to the middle of nowhere, but the fact he remembered and brought it up just hit different in that moment.

Fleetfoot whined from the floor and gave Aelin a significant look before trotting over to the door.

Aelin: yeah well my traitor dog is pining after you. Rowan: please your dog is an angel

She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up even as she pressed her fingers firmly to her lips. This was ridiculous, she was acting like a twelve-year-old girl with her first crush. But as Aelin stared at the messages and pictures Rowan had sent her throughout the day, she found that the bit of joy sparking in her chest wasn’t entirely bothersome.

Aelin: thanks again for the help with fleet today Rowan: anytime

A part of her wanted to keep messaging, to keep talking with him, but she knew she couldn’t. He didn’t think of her as anything more than a neighbor, maybe a friend. And she didn’t want to push any boundaries and risk anything. She sighed and let the message dangle on read before pulling her blanket up her legs and turning on her tv.

As she settled into one of her shows, her phone vibrated with one more message.

Rowan: have a good night, fireheart

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

love yall, hope you enjoyed!

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #rowaelinmonth2023 #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #fanfiction

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gaybananabread · 9 months

Text

TickleTober Day 1 - Anticipation

Welcome to October! I’m really excited to have these posting, and I’m hyped to see how everyone that requested likes their fics! They’ll be posting day-by-day, so if you requested #29, it’ll be posted on October 29th! Figured I’d start out with something i haven’t done yet, so here’s some Steven Universe Future! (definitely not projecting on steven whaaaat) I hope you all have an amazing spooky season, Enjoy!!

Lee: Future!Steven

Ler: Amethyst

Summary: Steven hasn’t been doing the best mentally, especially on the bad days. Amethyst has the perfect way to help, but being herself, adds a playful edge to it.

Warnings: Possible SUF spoilers maybe? A spot angsty at the start. This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!

The past few months had been…they’d been interesting. Steven finally started getting the help he needed, and the gems had been supporting him however they could. The therapist was nice, she helped him through some of his most traumatic moments. Topics on his mom…they were still touchy, but he was getting there. He had a name for one of his problems now. “Abandonment Issues…”

There’s still days where he feels lousy. He couldn’t remember the official term, but he liked to call them “spew days.” Days where his emotions just got the better of him. Days like today.

Steven was sprawled out on the couch, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He…he felt like poop. Not as bad as he did with Connie’s “not yet,” but definitely crummy. The teen didn’t even notice when Amethyst came through the door until she flopped down next to him.

“Hey dude! Oh…Steven, what’s wrong?” He grunted, shrugging. It wasn’t a lie either, at least not completely. A combination of things was wrong, though he couldn’t pinpoint what they all were. He just…wasn’t okay.

“Steven, c’mon. Remember the whole “we talk about our feelings” deal we made?” The purple-hued gem’s expression softened, giving him a little nudge. They had all agreed that whenever something was wrong, they would do their best to communicate the problem. Steven sighed, knowing it would probably help.

“I just…feel crummy. It’s a bunch of things. Sorry…” Amethyst immediately shut that down. “Hey, hey. No. You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. Your feelings are valid, no matter how confusing they are. If you can’t say it, that’s okay.” Gosh, why are his friends so awesome? He held out his arms, silently asking for a hug. His friend was more than happy to oblige.

“C’mere bud.” She wrapped her arms around the 16 year old, hugging him tight. He felt a bit of the gross feeling go away, melting into the touch. He needed this. Ever since the monster incident…hugs have been his everything. “Thanks Amethyst…”

His voice was a bit too deep and airy for her liking. He needed a cheer up session, pronto. Lucky for him, she had the perfect idea. “Ya know Steven… you could use some fun. How about we play some Steven Tag, with a twist?”

A twist? Why was she smiling like tha-…oh. Oh. He pulled away from the hug, a smile tugging at his lips. “Amehe- Amethyst no!” The purple gem crossed her arms, smirking. Amethyst shifted into the present version of Steven, snickering. “You got ten seconds. You get tagged, you get tickled…better run.��

Crap…crap! He got up off the couch, backing away from his friend. She couldn’t be serious, right? “Amethyst, c’mon! You- you’re joking right? Right?” She just smirked, holding up ten fingers. She was not joking. She slowly lowered one finger, then another, then another, dragging out each word with a teasing tone. “Ten, nine, eight…”

Time to run! He took off in the opposite direction, running into the warp area. The door opened for him, his pink and cloudy room offering a nice place to hide. Steven zipped inside, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. The room, sensing his needs, quickly made a few hiding spaces. Cabinets, closets, doors, tables with cloths, a bunch of hiding spot’s any kid would think of. All of which are horrible for actual hiding. It would have to do… He ducked into the most boring closet he saw, finding a pile of blankets inside. He burrowed under them, tried his best to make sure nothing was poking out, and hid.

Amethyst finished her countdown, chuckling as she walked over to the door. It opened to her room, but that was just a minor inconvenience. She knew her way around those rooms like the back of her gem. Running over to her stack of couch cushions and rubber ducks, she shoved them out of the way, revealing the secret path to Steven’s room. Can never be too prepared for mischief. She jumped through the hole, feeling gravity shift as she landed on the soft, pillowy clouds of Steven’s room. Time for some fun…

“Oh Steven~! Where are ya, bud? I just wanna play~!” When she saw the silly hiding spots, she snickered. Just like old times… Amethyst began opening the cabinets, trying to find the teen. “You know you can’t hide from me, man. I’m gonna find ya, and when I do, you’re gonna get it~”

Steven clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to muffle his anticipatory giggles. He had forgotten how evil Amethyst was when it came to these games… The butterflies in his stomach were going wild, swarming and sending a blush to his cheeks. He hadn’t been tickled in a good while. That somehow made the fluttery, bubbling feeling worse.

Turns out he sucked at being quiet. Amethyst easily heard his poorly muffled giggles, the cloudy walls of the closet almost paper-thin. Guess some things never change. “Steven, Steven, Steven. Still a gigglebug through and through.”

She slowly walked towards the closet, stomping her feet to make as much noise as possible. She wanted him to know how screwed he was. Knowing he was already caught, he removed his hand from his mouth, letting the giggles fly free as he leaned against the door. No way was he gonna go down without a small fight.

Amethyst jiggled the doorknob, pushing against it. You’d think that it would be easy, it being made of clouds and all. But no. The manifestations were linked to Steven’s conscious and subconscious thoughts, and right then, they wanted that door solid and stable. He only forgot one thing; a towel for under the door. Shape-shifting to an ant, the crystal gem easily slipped under the door. She scurried behind Steven before shifting back, growing to a purple-hued version of him. “Peek-a-boo~”

Now, he handled his surprise very maturely. He definitely didn’t shriek and run into the door. Definitely not. His best friend snorted, snatching him up in her arms. “Tag! Ya know what that means…” Shifting back to her regular form, the gem wiggled her fingers into his sides, not releasing him from the reverse hug. He yelped, squirming around and digging his heels into the carpeted floor.

“Amehethyst! Qu-quihihihit it!” Even though he was currently taller than the other gem, he couldn’t escape the ticklish hold. The closet was small, not allowing much room for squirming or thrashing. Lucky for him, Steven’s subconscious threw him a bone. The closet poofed out of existence, momentarily startling Amethyst. She pulled him closer, hugging him tightly before she realized what happened.

“Ooooh, I get it. Someone’s a bit too ticklish for their own good, huh?” The wiggling fingers quickly resumed their tickly pattern on his sides, pulling sweet giggles from the teen. He gripped her wrists, trying to pry her hands off. That did next to nothing; the crystal gem was having way too much fun. She had completely forgotten about her Steven Tag excuse, just wanting to tickle her friend. He needed a good laugh anyways.

She knew exactly where to go to get him really laughing, his younger years giving her plenty of time to learn his best spots. Amethyst moved her tickling to his belly, slowly getting closer to his gem. Steven knew what she was doing; it was the same pattern as when he was young. Sides, belly, gem, and if he was still breathing, underarms. Normally, he’d be embarrassed of the tickling. But right now? It was actually a fun distraction from his thoughts. “Nohoho! Dohon’t you dahare!”

A little teasing wouldn’t hurt. She slowly circled her fingers around the edge of his gem, sending ticklish little shocks to his belly. Frantic giggles bubble out of him, his anticipation building as she toyed with the edge of his gem. “A-Ahamethyst! Thihis is mehehean!”

“Uh, no duy. That’s why I’m doin’ it!” She chuckled and scritched a little faster, trying to get a squeak or two out of him. And, as expected, his giggles turned squeakier than a rusty door hinge. The feeling of her fingers so close to his worst spot was killer. No amount of squirming or wiggling was helping, the butterflies in his stomach going nuts.

He caved within thirty seconds, patting her arm and speaking with a whiny tone. “Ahamethyhyst! Juhust- just dohoho ihit ahahalreheady!” That almost got her. Almost. Rolling her eyes, the teasing ended, making way for the main event.

Following her pattern, Amethyst’s playful scribbling moved to his gem, sending the crazy ticklish sensations across his whole midsection. He was constantly changing and growing, but his sensitivity didn’t seem to get the message. He squealed, kicking as his knees gave out. “COHOHOME OHON! NOHOT FAHAIR, LEHEMME GOHOHO!”

It was kinda adorable, in a dorky way. Steven had always liked being tickled, even if he never voiced that opinion. It was pretty obvious when he was younger. Recently, however, he had been drifting away, closing up, avoiding anything “childish” or “immature” to him. They now knew why, and were working towards improving his self-image and communication skills. Still, progress was slow. Seeing him laugh again…it was nice.

Amethyst was so engrossed in her thoughts that she barely noticed when Steven was tiring out. He hadn’t had much energy to start the day, and quickly wore out from the tickling. He slumped against his best friend, leaning into her as the tickling wore him down.

“AHAHA-AHAHAMETHYHYST! IHIHI- AHAHAHA!” Her smile softened when she regained focus. The scribbles on his gem slowly came to an end, her hands switching to rub the ticklish areas. He practically melted into her touch. The soft happiness from the tickling paired with her gentle attention had him on cloud nine. “Thahahanks…”

Okay, that warmed her gem. She shifted to a bear, carrying him up to his bed. It wasn’t the first time she’d done it, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The contented drowsiness was a major improvement from his earlier gloom. Lumbering up the stairs, she laid him down, shifting back to her regular form. It wasn’t late, but one little nap wouldn't hurt his sleep schedule. Right as she turned to leave, a soft hand tugged her back. “Hey…stay?”

The warm smile on her face somehow got even softer, pitchy chuckles shaking her shoulders. “‘Course, bud. Gimme a sec.” She shifted shape once again, now a fluffy, lavender cat. Pawing at the blankets, she curled up beside Steven, pressing her soft fur against the star on his shirt. The bouncy-haired teen draped an arm over his now-feline friend. He was completely spent and ready for a nap.

A low purr rumbled in her chest at the soft gesture. Steven always found new ways to surprise them, either with kindness or some new ideal. The other gems would have likely been home soon, but she didn’t really care. Garnet and Pearl could tease all they want if it meant she could spend some quality time with Steven.

Amethyst didn’t need sleep, but it was always nice to get some; especially in moments like those. The teen was out in seconds, his friend soon joining. The day had taken a turn for the better, all thanks to a bit of playful mischief and care. Moments like those are what makes being a crystal gem all the more worth it…

#suf tickle #augtickletober2023 #lee!steven #ticklish!steven #ler!amethyst #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle #steven universe future tickle #steven universe tickle #lee!future steven #ticklish!future steven #su tickle #steven universe tickling #tickletober 2023 #tickletober

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