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ifonlyyuweremine · 6 months ago

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Call of Christmas

Aka the holiday season with 141

COD characters x F reader (One shots!) + smut

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧

Captain John Price smut

You hurriedly raced through chores, much like being put on a continuous autopilot. Throw the tabs of detergent into the laundry while making sure to separate the light and dark clothes. Put the leftover dishes from the sink inside the dishwasher, vacuum up the collecting fuzz that started to gather on the carpet, and so on.

However, the most important task was yet to be done. Pushed to the edge of your to-due list and collect dust.

Wrapping the presents.

Dear lord. Where would you even start, not only was gift wrapping the most tedious task on earth but most of the time it had a 98% chance of going wrong.

How could such a jolly and festive activity as simply wrapping a gift turn into the worst part of the holiday season? In your case, surprisingly easily.

It was a guessing game on your part, to figure out which wrapping paper to adorn a present in (different wrapping paper for different people of course). Cut the perfect measurements for said gift, and wrap it in some way that would look presentable.

Almost every time you would screw up the last two steps, the cutting and wrapping. You would either cut way too much paper or not enough to cover the gift. And when you finally did get an acceptable length the paper would fold every which way and the tape wouldn't hold it down.

Now, why not go with the simple fix of putting it inside of a gift bag? The short answer was that it was the lazy man's way out.

And this year you were determined to make it work. Your husband John always teased you about your passion for the holidays, but what could you say? You were a driven woman.

So you found yourself near the end of the day sitting inside the living room of your house. A diverse spread of gifts scattered around you beside poles of wrapping paper, tape, scissors, and rulers.

The soft thrum of Christmas music playing in the background for motivation. You were especially proud of the gifts you had gotten this year. One for each of your friends, close family, and John. Having a good gift for him was something to behold on its own. Gift shopping for the man was like pulling out teeth.

“Why would I want anything? I pretty much have everything I need…”

“I’m okay love, don't bother with me…”

“I don't want anything, maybe some socks or something…”

John's words echoed in your ear, but you weren't giving up that easily. This year, you landed on a nice silver watch with a leather band. The one he wore was…distressed to say the least.

So, this seemed like a great choice. You smiled down at the small box that held his new watch. John would love anything you got him, even if it was a scrap of metal he would give you his teddy bear smile and shower you with praise.

But this year you were particularly proud of your choice.

And with the newfound motivation you started on wrapping. You did your best to cut accurate ratios of paper to present, fold it as crisply as you could, and tape it down so it stuck. Somehow, by the grace of God, you found yourself getting into a sort of rhythm.

You looked at work after an hour in, in awe of the fact that it wasn't that bad. Actually, it was nearly perfect! These looked like real gifts, like the ones you'd see in those Christmas catalogs sitting under an 11-foot-tall tree.

You smiled, only one gift left to go. Lo and behold it was John’s gift. The small blue box that hid his watch, looked so menial. You sighed and stretched, easy peasy.

Or so you thought.

That little blue box might as well have been possessed by a Christmas-hating demon.

You huffed, silently cursing at yourself as you accidentally ripped the wrapping paper while you were trying to tape it down. This had been your fifth attempt at wrapping his gift, and every time something had gone wrong.

You stared down at it in disbelief, nearly in tears of frustration. There the box sat, laughing at your feeble attempts at wrapping it.

Just as you were about to go for attempt number six, you heard the chime of the front door opening. It was John.

Like a flash, you pushed the box under the couch until it was out of sight. It was a surprise after all. Just as you turned back around John appeared in all his glory. Slack jeans with his cotton t-shirt and his ruggedly handsome face. His eyebrows raised at the scene before him.

“Love, I think you're supposed to wrap the gifts, not get into a fight with them.” He said, bemused.

You felt your already hot cheeks redden, looking at the mess of wrapping paper around you. It did kind of look like a war scene with the addition of glitter and ribbon. Letting out an exasperated sigh you looked back up at him. “Would you believe me if I told you they started it?”

John's lips curved up into a soft smile that raised his mutton chops. And you couldn't help your heart from swooning at the way his mustache smiled with him. He chuckled and stepped into the room, crouching in front of you to slide a hand across your cheek. Pulling you in for a warm, chaste kiss. Your frustration slightly ebbed away, yet the lingering annoyance remained. John seemed to notice it and gave you a funny look as he pulled away.

“What's wrong?” He said knowing.

Curse him, he knew you too well. You knew giving him a bad lie wouldn't do much so you sighed. “It’s the gifts, I was doing so well wrapping everything but I got to yours and it didn't seem to want to cooperate with me. And well, you can see how it played out.” You breathed, nodding to the mess around you.

John raised an eyebrow, “why not just give it to me as is?” He asked, confused. To which you rolled your eyes as his practicality, typical.

“That’s not the point. Making presents look nice is a labor of love, it shows I care to make it look presentable.” You defended your point, making him shake his head and smile warmly. A fondness in his eyes as he looked at you.

“Baby, you know I know that you care about me. I don't need wrapping paper to prove that.” He said, his other hand guiding yours to his mouth to press his lips over your ring.

You pursed your lips in a tight line, trying not to let him melt your resolve into a sappy puddle. “Yeah, but it's still a nice gesture.” You grumbled, eyes darting away from his gaze.

You heard the familiar thrum of his laugh echo in your ears. You turned your eyes back to look at him as he pressed a kiss to your temple, “Thank you for trying love. You know I’d like anything you’d give me. But having you is all I need.” You couldn't help the smile that crept up on your cheeks.

For being such an intimidating person and having the reputation he did, he could really be a sap sometimes. Not that you'd have it any other way. His loving nature was a gift in itself.

You hummed and leaned in to kiss him again, his lips meeting yours in a soft embrace. Slowly you pulled him in, hands snaking around his neck to cup the back of his head. He tasted of tobacco and whiskey, not the bitter kind, but the warm fragrant kind. Almost like a spicy cocktail, one that burned at first sip but settled in your stomach.

It was almost second nature when you kissed him. Like your body craved the feeling of being fitted against his larger form. And when his tongue slid over your bottom lip, practically begging for entrance, you had no choice but to oblige.

The soft hum of Christmas jazz still lulled in the background, dulling your senses like sweet syrup. John’s tongue delved into your mouth, the slow rhythmic motion of his lips turning the thoughts in your head to static. His large hands slowly traveled down to your waist, his thumb pressing against the bone of your hip. Without warning his hands suddenly airlifted you up and onto the couch. You gave a small squeak of surprise, breaking the kiss.

“John wha-” You were cut off by another steaming kiss.

After a minute he pulled away, hot breath fanning against your lips. “You were working so hard, figured I'd give you a thank you.” His sly smile told you everything you needed to know. And if they didn’t, the way his hands slid down to grope on your ass did.

Your cheeks burned, and another type of heat bellowed in your stomach. Sending small sparks across your spine. “It's just wrapping a gift, and I didn't even finish yours.” You said sheepishly.

John rolled his eyes, his head dipping down to trail kisses over your neck. “What was it you said before? That it’s about the gesture or principle of it all?” He murmured, large hands kneading your behind. His words made your lips turn up into a smile. To be honest…you could use a break, and this opportunity was one you’d never turn down.

A small giggle escaped you, rolling your eyes at his persistence. “I guess I’ll take that ‘thank you’ then.”

Turning his head back up, he gave you a wolfish grin. The large hands that previously held your behind slid up to hook the hem of your top. With one fluid movement, he coaxed your arms above your head and slipped your blouse off. Then with just as much sneakiness, he undid the clasp of your bra. Tossing the offending garment somewhere else in the room.

Without a moment to lose, his mouth was on your breasts. You shuddered at his warm wet tongue and the way it danced around your nipple. The scruff of his facial hair tickles Your chest.

Your hands threaded into his hair, pulling and guiding him where you wanted. With every small tug or grasp he groaned, enthralled by the way you led him. From where you were sitting, John knelt at the edge of the couch between your spread legs. Hands gripping at your hips as he suckled at your peaks. “So beautiful baby-” He rasped, “-fucking love this gorgeous body.”

Your lips pushed into a tight line, exhaling through your nose. John’s hands migrated down to grab onto your pants, tugging them down slowly. You helped him slip them off until the only thing covering you was your cotton panties. An embarrassingly obvious wet patch now soaking through its fabric.

John’s thumb gently grazed over your clothed center. Earning a soft moan on your part, the pad of his finger sending a jolt of heat through you. His navy eyes flickered up to you as his thumb slowly circled your covered clit. “Tell me what you want sweetness.” He murmured.

You had trouble processing his words for a moment. “I want your fingers, John.” You breathed, looking down at the man on his knees for you.

The corner of his lip turned up, “Yes mam.” Slowly he pulled your panties to the side, exposing your glistening core. You saw his adams apple bob as he stared at you, like he wanted to devour you alive.

With his middle and ring finger, he dragged them through your lips. Coating the skin in a layer of slick, the lewd sound of it makes your ears turn red. “Look at this wet pussy, so needy.” John gruffed. With no warning, he gently pushed his middle inside you. Your walls constricted around him like a hungry snake.

Your lips fell open in an ‘oh shape, whimpering at the burning goodness of his finger. “Fuckfuckfuck-” You panted, the muscles in your legs flexing as you tensed.

With ease, he pushed his ring finger into you as well. Falling into a slow rhythm of pumping his fingers in and out of you coupled with his thumb brushing over your clit. Your brain felt foggy, like how a bathroom mirror fogs up when you take a hot shower. John watched you like a hawk, studying your every movement to see if you were enjoying it.

“John, need your cock now.” You panted breathlessly, impatient for your husband. He gave you an amused look, keeping his fingers at a steady pace.

“You sure?” He asked, bemused. “-I can wait sweetheart.” But you shook your head, desperate for the stretch of his dick.

You blinked and gave him a look, “I'm not asking.” You replied. Making him chuckle, his fingers sliding out of you and leaving an empty feeling in their wake. He stood up, tugging off his shirt and unzipping his trousers. All the while, you watched like it was your favorite TV show. Your eyes drank in his muscles, he was built for fighting, that was for sure.

His pants shrugged down as he pulled his briefs away with it. His large bulbous cock sprang free, the sight almost making you drool. John smiled at you as he wrapped a calloused hand around it, stroking. “Makin’ me feel special when you look at me like that.” He said, giving his dick a few more pumps of his hand.

He nodded at you, “Go ahead and lay back, I want to look at your face when I make you cum.” He said, the words ringing in your ears. You tried not the let the giddy smile show on your face as you nodded and fell back against the cushions. Hastily, he climbed up on the couch, caging you in with his body. Hands planted on either side of your head.

He gave you a knowing smile before using one hand to guide his cock against your slit. Slowly dragging it up and down, making your breath hitch. Fireworks already going off inside your brain.

He leaned back a tad, using his other free hand to stroke your thigh, patting it lightly. “Come on, raise these for me love, want them on my shoulders.” You did as you were told, hiking your legs up on his shoulders. His head was encased by the meat of your thighs and the tip of his cock pushed against your aching hole.

With John’s guidance, he slowly pushed into you. The entrance of his thick cock fills up every crevice in your walls, making you moan. He was right there with you, “bloody hell-” he grit out. His voice was strained and thick like syrup.

“Tell me-” He panted, “-Tell me I can move. Please.” He breathed, voice barely above a whisper. You swallowed, your body burned and ached, yet it felt so good at the same time. And you craved more of it. So much more.

You nodded, “Yes, please.” Per your request, John slowly started to move his hips. His hands are placed on either side of your head and your thighs are locked around his head. The further he pushed into you the more you felt like being folded in half.

Slowly, his cock dragged in and out of your walls only to plunge back in. You moaned and threw your head back into the cushions, a shivering running through you. Every time his thick tip pressed against the spongy bundle of nerves deep inside you, your walls tightened as if to hold him in.

“Fuck, that's it- so tight and wet, like this pussy was made for me.” John groaned, steadily increasing the speed and force of his thrusts. Every time he pushed himself back in you felt like seeing stars. The delicious pleasure of feeling his girthy dick drag against your walls and stuff you full was something you could never get used to. Every time it felt a new shade of amazing.

Soon, his thrusts had gone from slow and drawn out to fast-paced slaps of skin against skin. Your hands dragged against his back, leaving trails of red lines in their wake.

A familiar coil began to burn in your stomach, tightening by the minute. Your head was swimming as you let him mold you to the shape of his cock. “John- can’t hold it, I'm gonna cum soon.” You sputtered.

His response was to only increase the force of his thrusts. Snaking a hand down to your clit and rubbing his thumb in circles around the sensitive bud. You jolted, clamping down around him which in turn caused him to twitch and pulse. “S’okay love I know, I'm right there with you. Let me make you cum, cum on my cock.” He moaned.

The white-hot pleasure turned to burning magma as he played with your clit. Waves of euphoria crashing down on you like a violent tide. Your pussy spasmed and your body went taunt like a bow. John fucked you through it until his orgasm took hold of him. His cock twitched and his hips stuttered, flooding your walls with thick ropes of cum. After a few more forceful thrusts he let up, holding you still as you both came down from the high.

A few seconds later he slid out of you, carefully lowering your legs off his shoulders. “Merry Christmas love.” He breathed with a wolfish smile, a hint of humor in his voice. You hummed, blinking your eyes open just as he pressed a warm kiss to your temple.

A soft chuckle escaped you, still caught in the afterglow. Your hands gently carded through his slightly tousled hair, “Merry Christmas John.”

He smiled, raising his head to look around. Unsurprisingly the room was still a mess of wrapping paper and ribbon. “Guess it falls on me to clean this up eh?” He said knowingly.

You smiled back, “Yep.”

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Simon Ghost Riley Hurt-comfort

For most, Christmas time was a season of giving. It meant spending time with the ones you loved and putting the cheer back into the more depressing months of winter. It also meant engaging in bonding activities like ice skating or decorating the tree for Christmas, maybe even baking cookies.

For others, including Simon Riley, Christmas was a bitter reminder of what they lacked. It wasn't a cookie-cutter checklist for everyone, but the brunt of it was a lack of Christmas cheer, connection, or lack of loved ones to spend the holidays with. And for Simon, it was all three.

Out of every holiday, Christmas was a loathsome one. It felt as if everyone in the world was brimming with happiness while he was cast out into the dark. Like dangling a shiny new toy in a dog's face knowing that said toy would never be given to it.

So what did he do? What he does best. He closed himself off from the world. During the holiday season, Simon often felt more Ghost than he felt like Simon. After all, it was easier to disassociate and pretend he was Ghost again than to face the bitter memories that Simon went through.

But this year was different, why? Because this year he was spending Christmas with you.

It took a lot of convincing on your end, but he eventually settled for spending the week through Christmas at your flat. Which for him, was a big step. He had stayed over multiple times and vice versa, but considering he never spent Christmas with anyone was saying a lot.

It wasn't even until a year ago that Simon told you the whole story of why he disliked Christmas. By that time both of you had mutually understood that your relationship had shifted from casual dating to a more long-term and serious one.

So now you were determined to make this Christmas a good experience for him. Which turned out to be no easy task. But for your boyfriend, there wasn't anything you weren't willing to do.

It started with small festive activities like taking him to a park to see the Christmas lights. Or letting him pick out the shirt that he had been eyeing as an early gift. Your personal favorite had been getting him to help set up and decorate the small Christmas tree you kept in the living room.

Slowly but surely, he was beginning to assimilate with the Christmas spirit. You had even managed to get him to sit down and watch Home Alone!

Things were finally starting to look up…until now. Christmas Eve.

It was as if all the progress you had made vanished in an instant. Almost like he turned into a Ghost. He had barely said a word to you, didn't want to go out, wasn't eating, and was avoiding you. Simon was hauled up in your room and had been there for most of the day. The only time he had gone out was to smoke from your doorstep. Despite your comments about not liking his smoking or coming inside and eating he brushed it off with a grunt.

He had effectively barricaded himself in his mind. And you were sick of it, sick of the secrets, the going non-verbal with little to no explanation, and sick of the fact that he didn't trust you enough to tell you what was going on in his head.

Enough was enough, so you walked up to your bedroom door and knocked a few times. As expected there was no answer, so you pushed it open. Greeting you was Simon, sitting on the edge of your bed, looking down at his skull mask. You had only seen it a few times, not wanting to invade his privacy. Simon was a large proponent of keeping his work and personal life separate.

And why wouldn't he? His work was violent, it was the worst of what humanity had to offer. And you were none of those things. He mentioned to you once that his mask allowed him to be someone else, so that way when he did come back from deployments Simon wasn't the one with blood on his hands.

In other words, to your understanding, the mask was a mentality. A place holder that could do things that the Simon you knew couldn't.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, carefully making your way over. You climbed up on the bed behind him, till you were knelt facing his large back. Gently you slid your hands around his waist, pressing the side of your face to his spine in a soft hug. You swallowed, an underlying nervousness boiling deep inside you.

“Please talk to me, I can't know how to help if you don't tell me.” You whispered into him, a soft plead.

He didn't respond for a good minute, and a part of you feared that he was just going to brush you off like before. Eventually, he did respond, except it wasn't the response you wanted. “I think I should go back to my place in Manchester. Just for a few days.”

You frowned, this wasn't what you wanted. Not at all. You had been making such good progress too, you didn't understand how it could all reverse in a second. “Simon that's not fair, you at least need to tell me why. You've been silent all day and now you want to leave? You promised you'd stay until Christmas was over.”

Simon turned a bit to look at you, shrugging your hands off of him. The warm look he always had when he looked at you now long gone. “I know what I said. But I told you that I don't spend the holidays with anyone, you knew that.”

Your hands bawled on your thighs, “But- just yesterday you were fine. I don't understand what changed.” You said eyebrows knitting together.

His eyes narrowed, “Then have you considered maybe I just don't want to be around you?” He said, his tone harsh and unforgiving. A knife to your heart. You stared at him in silence, shocked that he would say something like that so brazenly.

Your lips pursed into a thin line, trying to regain your composure. “If you don't want to be around me then tell me, don't ignore me for half the day like a child.” The hands that held his skull mask tightened, bunching up the fabric in his grip.

“Alright, I'm sorry. Happy now?” Simon couldn't have been less sincere even if he tried. Yet another stab to your chest.

You shook your head no, “Of course I'm not happy. You're not telling me anything, I’m trying to listen and understand you but you're just shutting me out. It's like you barely trust me at all.” You said sternly.

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose. You watched how his face scrunched in irritation, the bags under his eyes sticking out like a sore thumb. “I do trust you, but…I’m just not ready.” He said irritably.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Not ready? Not ready for what?”

“For you, for this-” Simon snapped, gesturing to the air around him. “-fucking caring about somebody. Because every time I have it’s ended up like shite, I don't even know if I can. Or if I ever will.” He said, his voice brimming with a flurry of emotions. Ones you couldn't decipher, but you were still hung up on the meaning of his words. You knelt there, a cold wave washing over you that felt like ice.

He went on, “You shouldn't even want what I am [Name]. I know you think you do but you don't.”

You shook your head, a lump developing in your throat. “Yes, I do-” You tried weakly, your limbs starting to numb up and grow cold.

Simon stood up, turning his back to you. Walking over to the large overnight bag he had packed, kneeling, and started to take clothes that were scattered near it and shove them inside. You felt your stomach drop, clambering off the bed to stop him. Grabbing onto his suitcase and ripping it away to keep it behind your back.

“Simon tell me what’s going on.” You demanded, your voice suddenly raw.

Simon's eyes were wide, the brown pools of warmth replaced by a dark abyss. Looking up at you with surprise and anger. He stood up, towering over you with his massive frame. Almost like an intimidation tactic. He looked scary.

Slowly he outstretched an open palm, deadly silent. “I'm not going to ask you again, give me my things.”

You shook your head, taking a few steps back until you were pressed against your closet door. Blinking away tears into the back of your head, “No. Tell me what’s going on.” Your hands holding his suitcase with an iron grip behind your back.

His eyebrows furrowed, jaw working in frustration. The veins in his neck tensed for a moment. Almost without thinking his outstretched hand seized forward to grasp your arm, yanking you away from the wall with an alarming force. The suitcase dropped on the floor as he tore you away and you stumbled forward.

You made a noise, one akin to the sound a small animal would make before it was eaten. His grip on your arm was hard by any means, but the minute you made eye contact with him again he broke off. His hand released you like he had been burned by a hot iron, terror written across his face.

He looked more horrified than you did, looking between you and his hand like it was somebody else’s. The silence between you was so loud it rang in your ears.

You felt something wet trail down your cheeks. When did you start crying? You didn't know. You looked back at your boyfriend, he had looked so big before but now he only looked scared. You raised your hands as if you were approaching a wild animal. “Simon-” You breathed, “-It’s okay. I'm okay, you didn't hurt me.”

He didn't say anything, basically frozen in time. You walked up to him, praying he didn't walk back. Thankfully, he didn't. Gently, you cupped his face, forcing him to look down at you. “Please.” You pleaded, “-Tell me whats going on. That's all I ask, if you still want to go after, you can.” You breathed hoarsely.

You watched his face, how it was so full of uncertainty and fear. His bottom lip quivered lightly, “I’m so sorry.” He said, “-I didn't mean…I wasn't thinking.”

You gently rubbed a thumb over his cheek, trying to soothe him to the best of your ability. “I know you didn't mean to, you're not your dad Simon. I'm not worried about that, what I am worried about is you just getting up and leaving because you decided that I don't matter to you anymore.” You said, trying to remain firm to the best of your ability. Even when your voice was quivering and you felt like sobbing.

Simon shook his head, “What? Of course, you matter to me.” He breathed, shaky hands still at his side.

“Well, that's not what it looks like from my perspective. You just said you wanted to leave, you said you didn't think you could ever fully care about me.” You said, looking up at him.

His eyes scanned your face, “I know I'm sorry- I'm… fuck love, I'm scared. I'm scared of caring about you as much as I do, whenever I do it just…” He swallowed, “My mom, and Tommy…they're gone and I can't get them back, and if you leave I have nothing. Because you took everything,” He breathed.

“-You already have me, every part of me that I wanted you to see and every part of me that I don't. And that scares the shite out of me, and I try to keep pushing and pushing but you keep coming back to me.” You felt his hands on your face, large calloused palms warm against your cheeks. “Because that's just how you are, you're good. And I thought by creating more distance you'd see that.”

You opened your mouth but he cut you off, “-And this week you worked so hard, just for me. To give me a good experience,” Simon laughed bitterly. “And here I am, barely keeping my shite together.”

You frowned, “Simon.” You cut him off, your voice stern. He stopped, looking at you. “You don't tell me what I can and can't do, nobody does but me. So if you think you have any chance of convincing me to leave you're mad. I want this, I want you. No matter what baggage you come with.”

There was a moment of silence, filled with a thick tension that you could cut with a knife before he pulled you in. Pressing your face against his chest, cradling your head against him. Holding you tight as if you'd disappear if he let go. Your hands wrapped around his back, digging into the cotton of his shirt and inhaling his scent. One of cigarette smoke and pine. His face pressed into the top of your head.

It was intimate, emotions running high, and the force of his embrace. For a while, you stayed that way, grounded by the large arms that held you to his chest. “I’m so sorry, I should've told you from the beginning.” He whispered into the top of your head, his voice that of genuine remorse.

You knew that this wasn't the end all be all of his problems. Just because he addressed things did not mean everything was magically solved. But it was a big step in the right direction. You maneuvered your head up to look at him, chin pressed against his chest.

“I told you that I wanted to make this a good Christmas, for both of us.” You said, “-If you'll let me, I think we can still make the most of it.”

Simon stared at you, his lips settling in a relieved smile. “Yeah.” He breathed, “I wouldn't have it any other way.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧

Kyle Gaz Garrick Fluff

Your room was a complete mess. Clothes were thrown about like a tornado had taken your closet and dispensed its content for everyone to see. But the state of your room was the last thing you could focus on. Because you had thirty minutes until your neighbor two doors down would pick you up for a date.

You felt your cheeks just redden at the thought. A date! Especially with your very hot and very out-of-your-league neighbor Kyle.

You groaned, tossing yet another shirt on your bed. Nothing seemed to fit as it should've, what was one even supposed to wear on a date? It was December so obviously crop tops and shorts were off-limits. You nervously chewed on your nails, cursing at yourself immediately after for forgetting they were painted.

As you slipped on something acceptable (a nice pair of jeans and a coat), you made a beeline for your bathroom. You looked in the mirror, taking a few minutes to look over your makeup for the umpteenth time. Then moving over to fix your hair, tweaking it here and there, and maybe smoothing out the few strays.

You didn't even understand how you got into this predicament, it was all a blur. Kyle had just gotten back from deployment, a normal occurrence, and being the good neighbor you were, you brought him food. (Who wants to cook after they just get home from a long trip anyway?) And being the gentleman he was, he invited you inside. However, due to your inability to act normally around hot men, you panicked and refused.

Swearing up and down that he was probably exhausted and didn't need you to disturb his peace and quiet. You cringed just imaging how red your face must've been.

Instead of taking the hint like a normal person, he doubled down.

“Oh, okay then, why don't you let me take you out sometime as a thank you?”

After that, you were too stunned to say anything so you just shut up and nodded your head. And now you're here, standing in front of the mirror fretting over your appearance like a teenage girl.

You had zero idea where he was taking you. Which, in theory, was cute. But you were so anxiety-ridden that you couldn't find the time to look into it. And just as you were clumsily slipping on your shoes you heard the dreaded knock on your front door. You whirled through your apartment, opening the door with a little (a lot) too much force.

Standing there like a male supermodel was Kyle. Clad in worn-out jeans that he somehow pulled off, a flannel, and a jacket. He smiled, his perfect teeth adding to his handsome charm. “Hey,” He said, looking at you up and down. “-You look great as always.”

You wanted to die, just looking at him was like staring at a beacon of light. But for the sake of your social skills, you forced yourself to respond. “Thanks-” You breathed, trying to smile as normally as you could. “-Uhm you look great too.”

Kyle smiled, the dimples in his cheeks growing more prominent. “Thanks, I appreciate it, love.” He said, looking behind you and then back to you. “-I’m ready when you are, but take your time. We’re not in a rush.” He said casually, hands in his jean pockets.

You nodded, “Oh right- let me just grab my purse.” You breathed, doing a 360 to run back to your kitchen counter and swipe your bag from off the surface. Quickly making a run back towards him, stepping outside “Ready!” You said, trying to work up as much confidence as you could. To which Kyle chuckled, reaching behind you to close the door.

After the initial stress of stepping out the door, Kyle led you out of the complex. To which the subtle awkwardness faded into a comfortable conversation. It was easier with him than with most, it had always been. You'd always had an underlying crush on him but you never actually thought it'd go anywhere. You were more comfortable just looking and making friendly small talk than actively perusing.

After a few minutes of conversation and walking about the town he stopped a few feet away from a large tent. Christmas lights strone about and small lines of people waiting to get inside. And it instantly clicked what he was taking you to do.

“Ice skating?” You asked.

Kyle gave you a boyish grin back, “Yep.” He said confidently, “-thought it matched the Christmas spirit.”

You laughed, to be honest, you hadn't stepped onto an ice rink in a while. You'd never been terrible at it but you weren't exactly a pro either. He gently nudged you with his shoulder, “Scared?” He asked you.

Shaking your head, you smiled back. “You wish Garrick. I think I can hold my own on an ice rink.” You bantered.

Kyle’s shoulders hiccuped as he chuckled, “Alright then. Let’s get in line.” He said leading you over to one of the lines of people. It wasn't a terribly long wait, maybe twenty or fifteen minutes before you made it to the front. And of course, he insisted on paying for your skates even though he had been the one to buy the tickets.

You continued to talk as the both of you laced up your skates. But when it came time to actually get on the ice you found yourself apprehensive. Kyle had already gotten on with ease and was now waiting for you at the small gate entrance.

“Need any help there?” He asked, amused. To which you shook your head, determined to prove to him that you could do it on your own.

“All good.” You breathed, holding onto the gate as you stepped on the ice. “-just uhm, getting my footing.” For some reason, under his gaze, you felt your whole body begin to malfunction. Like you were getting performance anxiety.

You sheepishly let go of the gate, standing statue still. And Kyle simply stood there, an amused smile played across his lips. Arms crossed in front of his broad chest. You swallowed, taking a shaky step forward. And because your life seemed to be one large cosmic joke, you felt your skate slide out and you fell forward.

You tried to put your arms out to catch yourself, shutting your eyes tight with a small squeak before you felt something take hold of you. You blinked as you realized that your face didn't collide with the hard surface of ice but with something else.

Kyle’s arms had caught you just in time, your face pressed up against his warm chest. Large arms encircling your waist, you heard him whistle. A red blush crosses your cheeks from embarrassment. “Careful there, thought you said you could hold your own?”

You were mortified, you had practically thrown yourself at him! (not intentionally of course, but still)

He helped you stand back straight as well as fix your coat. You swore you could almost feel steam coming out from your ears. “I’m sorry, that was an accident I swear.” You babbled. He didn't seem to mind, however, simply holding his hands up and giving you a soft look.

“Hey, it's okay love, I know. Happens to the best of us.” He reassured. Once again you tried to brush off the pet name so as not to implode. Kyle held his arm out to you, “-Why don't you hang on to me for the first couple of laps yeah? Just to be safe.”

You looked between him and his outstretched arm. “I-uh yeah. Sure, sounds good.” You said, taking hold of his arm for more support. He flashed you a smile before slowly skating forward. You tried your best to keep up, and with his support you did.

The two of you did loops around the skating rink, people-watching, talking, and laughing. The thing was, your arm still held his, even after the first couple of loops, he made no effort to detach from you. And neither did you, but that was neither here nor there. You actually learned a lot about him, about his family, his interests, and even a little about his work. Which in his words was “Nothing that you should ever have to hear about.”

You managed to open up to him as well, sharing more of your life with him. Eventually, your time at the rink ran out. But the conversations between you and Kyle still kept up. By the time you were walking back to your complex with him, his hand had managed to sneak its way into yours. Some part of you was still in disbelief that it was even happening, however.

You swallowed, glancing at him from the corner of your eye as he walked shoulder-to-shoulder with you. “Thanks, by the way. It was really nice of you to take me out like this. But you really didn't need to, it was just a meal. A thank you would've sufficed.” You commented.

Kyle glanced back at you, raising and eyebrow. “You think I asked you out just cause you cooked me dinner?” He said, making you stop.

You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “…yes? What other reason would there be?” You asked, utterly lost.

At that, Kyle fully turned to face you. Staring at you for a few seconds, his face trying to deduce if you were joking or not. When he realized you weren't kidding, his face broke into a smile. “[Name], I've been trying to ask you out for weeks.”

You blinked, his words only confusing you more. “What? No, I would've picked up on it.” You said.

He chuckled and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes actually, multiple times,” Kyle said. Looking at you with an expectant gaze.

You tried to dive back into all of your memories with him, searching for a time that would've counted as him asking you out. But, you came out empty-handed. “Give me an example then.” You said, brow furrowed.

Kyle raised his eyebrows, “What about the other day when I invited you inside to eat dinner with me after you brought me food?”

“Well, that doesn't really count. That's just something people say to be polite. How was I supposed to know?” You challenged.

He continued, “…Or about that time I told you I had an extra ticket to a football game if you wanted to go?”

You felt your cheeks get a bit rosy. That one did sound a bit more like asking you out when you thought about it. “I- I was under the impression that you were just giving me a ticket. I didn't realize you meant together,” You flushed.

Kyle kept going. “And that time I caught you coming back from a bad date and I said I could show you a better one?”

Okay yeah, you were seeing it now. You bit down on your cheek, trying to stop yourself from melting into a puddle. “I thought you were just being nice.” You said lamely. You saw his mouth open to respond, but you held your hands in front of his face. “Okay, but yes, I get it! I realize now that there might have been some signs.”

You heard him chuckle, he gently lowered your hands. You sighed, feeling your cheeks burn red from embarrassment. How could you be so clueless!? “I'm sorry for not noticing that you were trying to ask me out.” You murmured, trying your best to avoid his eyes.

You then felt his warm hand slide over your jaw, cupping the side of your face to raise it. Your eyes met his, mirth swimming inside his dark brown irises. “It's okay love, you're worth the wait.”

You felt your face burn, realizing the significance of what was happening. His eyes darting between your lips, the way he held your face, the utter cheesiness of it all. And God you were eating it up like your own personal rom-com. But to your dismay, nothing was happening! Like you two were frozen in time. Kyle had been the one to ask you out, to make the first moves, so maybe it was only fair you did this small thing.

Throwing your timidness out the window, you leaned forward. Shutting your eyes and locking lips with him. It only took a moment for Kyle to press back against you, tilting his head and sliding his hand over your cheek to cup the back of your head. It was pure bliss.

You stayed like that for as long as you could, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of his lips. Yet all good things end as you still need oxygen, so you did eventually have to pull away.

Your eyes were wide as you stared at him, face flushed. He looked a little better, but it was cute the way he looked post-kiss. Kyle’s lip turned into a boyish grin, “Does this mean I get another date?”

You couldn't help but laugh, “I guess so.”

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Jhonny Soap McTavish Smut

Curse your boss for putting you on the late-night Christmas shift. What kind of fucker does that? A greedy one, you supposed. It wasn't like you didn't have plans, not with family, no, but with friends.

But no. He just had to schedule you for Christmas night.

Bartending for a group of sad, lonely, old men wasn't what you had in mind when you thought of Christmas. And even though you tried to get out of it, (bribing every co-worker and staff member you could and asking them if they would cover your shift) you still ended up behind the counter.

You grimaced, dish rag in hand as you cleaned the sticky countertop. It was pretty dead, but not enough that you were free for time. A few regulars sitting at the bar, and others were scattered about the place. Some talking or watching the different channels projected on the TV. Overall, it was a quiet evening. Though some part of you felt a little bad for wanting everyone to leave, after all, some people here didn't have families or friends to go home to.

You heard the doorbell chime as somebody walked inside. You didn't bother looking up, more concerned about the patch of mystery substance that wasn't going away. You furrowed a brow, working your muscles to press into the surface and scrub.

Heavy boots creaked across the wood, getting closer with each moment. Yet you still hadn't made any progress on the counter. With a heavy sigh, you rolled your eyes and looked up. A frown that could scare off any customer played across your lips.

“Jesus, Bonnie, Christmas shift that bad aye? Y’look like you're about to kill me right where I stand.”

You halted. Standing before you was Johnny McTavish, or Soap, as his other friends christened him. (don't ask, you didn't know why either) He was a part of the semi-regular military group that came in a few times a month. There was a large base a few miles away, so it wasn't abnormal to get your fair share of soldiers now and again. However, what was abnormal was the fact that he was here alone.

Normally, Johnny came in with three other guys. Gaz, another more gruff man who they referred to as ‘Cap,’ and a big scary-looking bloke who always wore a balaclava.

You stared at him for a good few seconds.“I uh, sorry you caught me off guard there.” You breathed. “-And no, it’s not bad in here, just prefer not to be working on Christmas night.”

Johnny hummed, walking up the the counter and pulling out a stool right in front of you. His large arms settled against the wood, “Too bad. Bossman put you on the shift, did he?” He asked, apparently very amused by your grim attitude.

You rolled your eyes, throwing the rag under the counter. “Yeah, I even tried to bribe everyone to cover my shift but nobody would take it.”

He smiled, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Well then maybe this was fate.” He joked, “-Anyway, since it is Christmas, would you mind pouring me a glass? Y’know, as a present?” He said, grinning at you.

You felt your heart stutter a little.

Oh yeah, the other thing about Johnny was that you may or may not have the biggest crush known to man on him. It wasn't even your fault, he charmed his stupid way into your heart. With his ridiculous mohawk, (which wasn't even really a mohawk) pretty blue eyes, and his huge biceps. Very annoying. Not even to mention his rough voice with that thick Scottish accent.

To say you had the hots for him was a giant understatement.

You breathed out a laugh, “Alright, coming up.” You turned around to grab the bottle of vodka, fixing together a Cape Codder. Then sliding the glass over to him. He gave you a funny look, concussion written across his face.

“This isn't my usual.” He pointed out, still taking the drink nonetheless.

You flashed him a smile, winking. “Merry Christmas doll face.” You said sarcastically. To which he simply took a sip. You eyed him as he did, “Where are the rest of the guys?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Johnny cleared his throat, setting the glass down and leaning forward. “Gaz and Price are back at base, everyone had drinks earlier and they wouldn't make it. Ghost’s not the biggest fan of Christmas so he didn't want to go out either.” He said casually.

You nodded, “If you had drinks earlier than why are you back here?” You asked.

Soap smiled, his jaw working in a way that made you swallow. “Never said I did, the others drank, but I held off until now. Thought I'd be better if I got shit-faced here where you could see it.”

You laughed, leaning against the back counter. Your arms crossed over your chest. “And you were just betting on me working tonight?”

Jhonny shrugged, taking another sip. “I had an inkling.”

You breathed out another small chuckle, walking back over to grab the towel you'd thrown before. “Y’know, I'm only giving you a free drink because it’s Christmas. Can't pull that trick on anybody else, so be grateful you got me.”

He nodded, licking his lips. His eyes followed you as you walked around. “Trust me Bonnie I am, not every day I get you all to myself.”

Your train of thought stuttered a bit, Jhonny was a flirt, yes. But for some reason, it felt different. His tone had changed, and the way his eyes were tracking your every move felt more real. You glanced back at him as you scrubbed the countertop. “Who says that all my attention is on you?” You quipped with a smile.

Jhonny grinned, shaking the ice in his glass. “You know what I mean.” He set in drink back down on the table. “But for the record, I don't see you givin’ any attention to the other blokes here.”

You shot him a look, trying to hold in your laugh. “Unfortunately, half of the people here are either probably married or well above the appropriate age bracket.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Too bad, here I was thinking I’m getting special treatment. Better think of a way to get on your good side, I suppose.”

You cocked an eyebrow at him, intrigued at the sentiment. “Yeah? What did you have in mind?” You asked.

“Depends.” He said, staring at you with way more intensity than you were prepared for. “-What do ya’ want Bonnie?”

You stared back, at a loss for words. There were many things you wanted, or more specifically, things you wanted him to do to you. Your throat suddenly went dry, your train of thought ruined by a barrage of filthy images flashing in your mind. It wasn't until another minute went by that you remembered you were supposed to be responding to his question.

You cleared your throat, “I uh- a solid cash tip would be nice. Or maybe you could cover my shift.” You joked, trying to play the silence off.

“S’not what it looks like to me.” He stated, throwing his head back as he downed the last of his drink.

You halted again, caught off guard. Furrowing your brow in confusion, “Excuse me?” You asked.

He put the drink back down on the table, leaning forward on his arms. His signature impish smile on his stupidly pretty lips. “That's not what it looks like to me.” He repeated, enunciating each word. “Nobody looks at somebody like you just did to me, then makes a joke about covering a shift.”

You felt your heart speed up, so he had noticed your stare? You forced a frown, keeping a skeptical face. Placing a hand on your hip, “I wasn't looking at you like anything.”

“Oh yes, you most definitely were Bonnie.” Fuck that stupid nickname he always called you. It only weakened your resolve.

You rolled your eyes, “And how exactly was I looking at you?” You said, frowning at him.

Johnny’s smile twitched up a little, something akin to hunger flashing in his eyes. “Like you wanted to shag me.” He spoke casually. “-Can’t say I'm not guilty of’tha either though. The drinks here aren't the only reason I'm always stoppin’ by.”

If your face wasn't red before, it definitely was now. You looked around as if somebody was listening in on the conversation. You looked back at him, wide-eyed and flushed. “I-what? I wasn't-” You cut yourself off from stumbling over another word. “You…want to fuck me?” You said slowly, skepticism leaking through your tone.

Without a beat, he nodded. “Yes.”

You stood statue still, absolutely floored by his lack of filter. For a few moments, you didn't know what to say. What could you say? ‘Yeah, I do too now let's have sex right now.’ Yeah right.

…

Well maybe.

You looked around again, there was barely anyone in the bar. They probably wouldn't notice if you disappeared for twenty minutes, right?

You looked back at Johnny, “Meet me behind that door one minute after I go inside.” Without another word, you turned on your heel and marched your ass into the back room behind the drink display. The heavy door shutting with a thump behind you.

You blinked, holy shit. You had just told Johnny to meet you in the back room. What the hell were you doing?!

Just before you started panicking, the door swung open and Johnny marched straight in. “What the hell? I thought I told you a minute later.” You whisper shouted at him.

He chuckled, “Sorry, but I don't think waltzing in here a minute after you would make what we're about to do any less obvious. It was a nice thought, though.” He said, almost patronizingly.

Suddenly, his strides had backed you against one of the back walls that were lined with cardboard boxes. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, “You're such a-” You cut yourself off, sighing heavily. “For the record, I'm only doing this because I'm pissed off about working and I need something to fill the time.” a lie.

Johnny’s large hands slid against your waist, holding you there. “Sure, Bonnie, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Just as you opened your mouth to argue back his head dipped down to capture your lips. You let out a surprised noise but quickly adapted, your hands snaking around his head and pulling him closer. He groaned into you, pushing his hips against yours as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

The kiss was needy, desperate even. Like he wanted to consume you whole. Every moment seemed to heat the tension between you as he slowly ground himself into you, letting you feel the hardening tent between his legs.

He gently nipped at your lip, causing you to gasp. His large hands made quick work of your top by sliding it over your head. As soon as he saw you in your bra, he groaned, “Fuck, this is what I've been thinkin’ bout’ for the past few months.” Without another word, he reached behind you to unclasp your bra. Groping and pawing at your chest like a cat.

You tried your best to keep your sighs and moans down. “You've been thinking about me?” You breathed.

“Every day Bonnie.” He said, kissing a trail up your neck. Red hickeys blossoming in his wake that would undoubtedly remain for the next few hours. But you couldn't find it in you to care, at least not in this moment.

Without warning his kisses began to drop until he slid down between your legs. Kneeling before you like he was ready to worship the ground you stood on. You looked down at him, surprise in your gaze. However, he paid you no mind as he undid your pants. Pulling them down your legs until they pooled at your ankles.

You swallowed, “Johnny you don't have to-”

“I want to.” He cut you off. His breath fanning against the material of your panties, blue eyes staring up at you with haze. His hands gently pulled down the elastic of your underwear until you stood bared to him. “-Fuck, you gorgeous thing.” He breathed, in awe of you.

His mouth was on you at a moment's notice. His hot tongue licking circles around your clit. Your hands immediately went to grab at his hair. Curling around the short locks of brown hair, your other hand slapped over your mouth. Muffling the puffs of air and moans falling from your lips.

It was almost like he was enjoying it more than you were because the way he ate you out was akin to a starving man desperate for water. Johnny moaned into you as he sucked and licked at you, hands holding your hips, keeping you in place.

You panted, absolutely lost for words as he delved into you. You'd never had any man desperate to taste you, so this took the cake. And the way his stubble scratched into your skin made you dizzy. This man had ruined you for anybody else in a few short minutes with his tongue alone.

“Jeez, Johnny- you're gonna make me cum if you keep going like that.” You panted out through your moans.

He detached for a second, looking at you. His cheeks flushed red, his eyes glazed over, and his mouth slick with your juices. “Good,” He panted. “Means I'm doing my job right.”

Before you could say any more he went right back at it, flicking his tongue over your clit. Your hands squeezed his hair tighter, pushing him further. Johnny moaned, letting you guide his face for your pleasure. One of his hands slid away from your thigh to your pussy, pressing a finger into your hole.

You let another moan slip, not being able to hide it as his thick digit pushed into your walls. It was too much, the pressure of his finger curling inside you as his tongue worked against your clit.

“Holy shit- m’gonna cum. M’gonna cum.” You panted, voice going up an octave as your body tightened. A burning heat sending shocks through your spine.

Johnny groaned in response, working his finger faster inside you. You threw your head back with a silent cry, legs shaking as you came. Heat burning down your body and lighting fireworks inside your stomach.

After a few more seconds, he slid his finger out of you, leaning back on his knees. His breath was almost as heavy as yours. Your mind was still hazy but somehow you found it in you to look down at him, gently carding a hand through his hair. “Fuck, McTavish, you surprised me.”

He grinned back at you, practically pussy drunk. “Yeah? Does that mean I get another free drink?” He asked, amused.

You smiled, helping him to his feet. “I’ll do you one better.” You murmured, feeling the fog of your orgasm slowly fade a little.

He raised an eyebrow, his mouth opening in question as you switched your position. Now in front of him and sliding down to your knees, eye to eye with his bulge. Your hands palmed over him, making his head tilt back with a soft groan. “Fuck- [Name], eating you out like that already did a number on me.” He panted, “M’not gonna last long if you do anything to me.”

You smiled, gently unzipping his pants and pulling apart the fabric. Jeez, he was practically tearing a hole straight through his boxers. “I can live with that.” You said teasingly, sliding down his briefs to let his dick spring free.

Your eyes drank him in, pleasantly surprised to find out, yes, he was big. You gently took hold of him, his cock sticky and beading with milky precum. His head fell back against the wall. “You really know how to make a guy feel special, don't you?” He half laughed, half moaned.

You hummed in acknowledgment, licking a stripe up his cock. Then swirl your tongue over the reddish tip, lapping up the fluid like syrup. His dick twitched, making you smile. Slowly, you took the head of him into your mouth, inching your way down.

Johnny cursed, his hand reaching down to grab your hair. Holding you as you slid down his dick, your throat wrapped around him. “Bonnie, I told you I wasn't gonna last long.” He moaned, his breath heavy and hard.

You moaned in response, bobbing your head up and down his cock. Letting the tip hit the back of your throat. Your eyes locked on his face scrunched up in pleasure as you sucked him off.

Soon, he was practically whimpering at nothing. His hands held your hair with a vice grip as you bobbed up and down on his dick. “Fuckfuckfuck- that's it, keep going. You're so gorgeous, just taking my cock like that.”

You moaned, feeling his cock twitch again in your mouth. With another curse, he came down your throat, painting your mouth a milky white.

Slowly, you detached from his softening dick. Swallowing the fluid, it was salty, kind of earthy too. Not bad though, thank goodness. Johnny stared at you, looking wrecked. You probably didn't fair that much better.

“Was that better than a free drink?” You chuckled, wobbly standing up.

Johnny laughed, nodding. “Way better than a free drink.”

There was a moment of silence before he spoke up again.

“…so, you free after your shift?”

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Merry Christmas or Happy holidays!

Or if it is the day after Christmas then happy late Christmas. Anyway, just a collection of a few one-shots for the festive season :)

This isn't my usual content, it’s normally more long-form stories but I hope it was okay!

Not too much to say other than thank you for reading and all your support, I love each and every one of you.

And don't forget to like or repost, maybe even leave a comment if you so choose. Toodles!

( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)

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muwapsturniolo · 6 months ago

Text

Brutus 2 🦇 Chris sturniolo

"O-one hun-hundred and fif-fifteen times...." PT 1

NSFW AHEAD!!! mentions of murder, stabbing, assault (not detailed!!!), alcohol, blowjobs/face fucking, facials, cum eating, rough sex, biting, cream pies, choking, switch! Chris, Matt is a perv

The police still couldn’t figure out what happened on the final night of Halloween horror nights. It’s been a month and the gruesome murders were still unsolved and left everyone scratching their head. The police took the right measures, they taped off the crime scene for weeks on end, rewatched the CCTV footage, and questioned the crew and attendees.

But they came up empty-handed.

They couldn’t figure out who committed the crime or why they did it.

But she knew.

When she was questioned, the police showing up at her door with her discarded tweed purse, she lied and said she didn’t see anything. Claimed she barely remembers that night due to the alcohol she consumed on the premises.

She knew it was wrong to lie to authority, to take away the possibility of a grieving family to finally have peace and to know the killer is behind bars. She knew if anyone found out what she did they would call her insane and probably throw her six feet under a jail - She didn’t want that.

She was lying to cover her own ass and the nameless killers, and she’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Especially if it meant they would continue watching her.

It was only a couple of days after that night when she felt as if she was being watched. She had just gotten out of the shower and walked into her bedroom to put on her pajamas when she noticed the clothes were on the floor.

That isn't where she left them.

She vividly remembered placing them neatly at the foot of her bed, folded and ready to throw on. Now they were thrown onto the floor in a mess, and her panties were missing.

Fear should have settled into her body, but instead, she proceeded to get dressed right in front of the open window.

With that being said, she went about her life as if nothing happened, as if she wasn't being stalked by two psychopaths.

Her routine never changed.

Weeks had gone by, minutes, hours - two months to be exact. She had given up the little bit of hope that those two would make an appearance. Honestly, she had forgotten about them until a Christmas party had gone wrong.

Her friends had forced her to attend, shoving her into a powder blue satin dress and a pair of silver heels to match. soon, she was at the party, standing in the corner with a frown on her face.

She wasn't having a good time. Her friends had ditched her as soon as they made it to the club, this guy who was completely wasted wouldn't leave her alone, and she was hot.

Deciding that she was over it and needed some air, she found her friends and told them she was leaving. She walked away, ignoring their drunken protests, and pulled out her phone, attempting to order an Uber.

It seemed like she didn't have any luck, the cellular device having no type of signal. With a huff she begins walking down the street, not noticing the two people following her.

"This is so stupid! This is the last time I let them drag me to a dumb party an-" A small scream escapes her mouth as she's pushed into an alley, her phone falling from her hands. Her body collides with a trash can, preventing her from falling into the muddy puddles of water from the melted snow.

She's soon shoved against the wall, the streetlamps casting a shadow over her attacker's face. She didn't need lights to know who the person was, the rancid smell of alcohol was enough.

It was the same man from the party, he had followed her out.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Get off of me!" She shouts in annoyance, trying to push him off. It was odd, the way she was completely sober and had better coordination should have given her the strength to push him away. But to no avail, he proceeded to force himself upon her, slurring his words in the process.

Just as his hand goes up her dress, he's yanked away and tackled to the ground, her savior immediately throwing punches.

She stays frozen against the wall, too shocked to even register what's happening.

A glimmer of light snaps her back into reality.

She watches as her savior raises his arm, a knife in hand.

She watches as the blade is plunged into her attacker's chest, his screams slowly drowning out as he chokes on his own blood. She watches her savior continuously bring the knife down, not stopping until he's satisfied.

His actions begin to slow, his breathing heavy as he slumps back, staring at the lifeless body underneath him.

She takes a hesitant step forward, freezing when her savior turns to her.

She already knew, but the mask adorning his face confirmed it.

Her savior was the same man from that night, the same masked man who was ready to kill her before being scared away by his partner in crime.

His wild and deranged eyes soften as they connect with hers, his breathing calming down.

They say nothing, the only sound being heard is the flurries of snow rushing past them.

She slowly approaches, holding her hand out before speaking softly, "Come on, let's go."

He looks down at her hand before standing up, towering over her. He points towards her discarded phone, his silence-speaking words. She nods and rushes over to her phone, bending down to grab it. She huffs seeing the cracked screen, cursing out the dead man in her head. Just as she begins to wipe the phone off, she hears a loud bang.

She whips around and sees both the masked savior and the dead body gone, her brows slowly creasing.

Where did they go? How did they disappear so quick?

Her thoughts are interrupted by a hand landing on her shoulder. She jumps in surprise and turns around to see the masked savior in front of her.

"Jesus Christ, " she covers her chest as her heart begins to beat quickly. She swears she heard him snicker softly, but before she could question him, he wrapped his hand around her arm and dragged her down the street.

In reality, she knows she should be scared and questioning him, but she stays silent, allowing him to guide her to wherever they are going. They soon arrive in front of a beat-up pickup truck, parts of the car rusting as snow sits in the bed.

He opens the passenger door and looks at her expectantly. She peers inside the truck, noticing the mess inside. The cans of Pepsi discarded on the floor, the wrappers from candy, the smell of cigarettes, and most importantly,

The small bloodstains on the seats.

She looks back at him, noticing the soft look in his eyes.

"You want me to get in?"

He nods, still refusing to speak.

"Are you taking me home?"

He nods once more.

"Do you know where I live?"

He tenses, the grip he has on her arm tightening. It's almost as if he's scared, scared of being caught for stalking. Scared she's going to scream, run away, reject him.

She snickers softly seeing the fear in his eyes, it's a bit ironic.

She says nothing, simply climbing into the truck and buckling herself in.

"Come on, I miss my bed."

With that, he closes the door and climbs into the car himself, quickly starting the engine and driving off. She watches silently as he drives down familiar streets, having driven down them herself whenever she's on her way home.

The car ride was filled with silence, it wasn't tense if anything, it was calming, the both of them relaxed.

They soon arrive and he kills the engine, staring straight ahead out the window. She turns to him, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face behind the mask.

"Thank you for helping me," she says softly. He gives a curt nod, his hands still placed on the wheel.

"Did you want to come in?" His head whips to her, his eyes holding confusion. She smirks, enjoying the hesitancy and confusion in his eyes.

" Come on, you've been inside anyway. Might as well come in with an invitation this time."

He huffs behind the mask but follows her actions in unbuckling the seat belt and climbing out of the car.

They walk inside the house, the girl kicking off the annoying heels and throwing her keys in the bowl on the stand. She walks to her bedroom, smiling to herself as she hears his sluggish footsteps behind her. She throws herself onto her bed, flipping onto her back and propping herself up with her elbows.

She looks him up and down curiously, attempting to familiarize herself with him again.

"How come you wear a mask?"

Like always, he says nothing, refusing to even glance in her direction. She pushes herself off the bed and approaches him, cornering him. No words are spoken between the two as she presses herself against him, his breathing speeding up. With a slow and steady hand, she trails it up his arm, her fingers soon fanning out against his chest.

She goes to touch the edge of the mask, but she's stopped by his hand firmly grasping her wrist.

He looks scared.

Despite the tight grip he has on her, she continues with her actions. Her fingers grip the edge of the mask, slowly pulling it off of his face.

He quickly turns his head, his hair falling in front of his face. She gently turns him back towards her, their eyes connecting as her fingers dance across the scar on his cheek.

"O-one hun-hundred and fif-fifteen times...."

A shocked expression makes its way onto her face. He spoke, he finally spoke, and the first thing he decided to say was a number.

"W-what?" She questions in confusion, raking her brain for what the number could mean.

"Th-the man....I sta-stabbed him one hun-dred and f-fifteen times."

She's shocked by the confession.

She didn't know a lot about murder, only having seen it and heard about it in movies and TV shows, but she knew it took a lot of energy and anger to stab someone that amount of times - He did it for her.

It was sick, it was twisted, and yet, it attracted her.

"Let me thank you," she mumbles, her hand leaving his face and trailing down his chest, soon finding its place over his crotch. She begins to palm him, watching his breathing grow harsh, their eyes still connected. A small whimper leaves his mouth, and she breaks out into a grin - his moans were so pretty, so soft,

Submissive.

She sinks to her knees, both of her hands working at his belt, soon throwing it to the floor. Her mouth waters as she pulls his pants down, his cock slapping his abdomen.

It was pretty, just like him.

It was long and thick, and had a bright red tip that matched his chapped lips. There was a vein running up the side that she knew would feel euphoric when sliding against her spongy walls.

He bucks his hips softly as she wraps her hand around his shaft, pulling it towards her mouth. She opens her mouth and allows a wad of spit to trickle out, landing directly on his tip. Her thumb swipes over the tip as she moves the spit around, starting to jerk him off.

His moans and whimpers are kitten-like, despite his horrific and brutal demeanor, he was like putty in her hands.

She enjoys the way his body relaxes against the door, his head thrown back and his mouth open as he pants softly. She kitten licks his tip before taking him fully in her mouth. His rough and calloused hands fly to her head, grabbing the strands of hair and forcing her to take him deeper.

She gags around him, tears forming in her eyes as she opens her mouth wider, but she keeps going. She bobs her head up and down, making sure to hum and fondle his balls in the process.

His moans and groans grow louder, and his actions become more dominant. It was like a switch was flipped in his head, his hips starting to slam against her face.

He shows no mercy as he fucks her face, his dick reaching so far down her throat and giving her no chance to breathe. Her actions of gratitude had quickly become sloppy, the mixture of spit and precum coating her chin and falling down to her chest.

There were even bubbles of the mixture forming, popping every time her nose hit his happy trail.

She manages to look up at him, her mascara tears and glossy eyes making her look so damaged yet innocent - It drives him over the edge.

He quickly pulls out of her mouth and releases all over her face, enjoying the way she gasps in shock.

It's like his body is on autopilot, nothing but excitement and adrenaline controlling his actions. His hand wraps around her throat, lifting her to her feet with ease. Their lips instantly mesh together, swapping spit as they hastily make out. She moans into the kiss as he tightens his grip on her throat, the wetness in her panties only growing. She could feel the sticky fluid in between her folds every time she clenched her thighs - She was aching for him to touch her.

He suddenly pulls away from the kiss and begins to lick his own semen off of her face, his eyes rolling back. She moaned at his erotic actions, the way his soft and spongy muscle glided over her cheek. She could smell the faint mixture of cigarettes on his breath, but she found herself not caring.

Suddenly, she's pushed away from him, her body colliding with the mattress. It all happens so quick, the way her powder blue dress is ripped into pieces, her soaked panties following.

He was like a rabid, feral dog, ready to take what he wanted and she was just as excited.

Her jaw drops and her back arches as he shoves his length inside of her, reaching to the deepest hilt. Much like his partner in crime, he stretched her out perfectly, her aching walls sucking him in and not letting him go. The bedframe bangs against the wall with each ferocious thrust, items falling off her nightstand due to the shaking.

He shoves his face into the crevice of her neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin. He proceeds with his actions, the marking of his teeth covering her whole chest along with her breasts - Blood is drawn in certain areas.

It's an overwhelming amount of pleasure, so overwhelming that she can't even keep her eyes open nor hold him. Her arms lay flat by her head, her eyes clenched shut as her mouth remains open.

Her eyes fly open when her head whips to the side, the same hand that slapped her wrapping around her throat, squeezing tightly.

He's heaving like a dog, his pants mixed with groans, making him sound like a beast.

She weakly grabbed at his wrist, trying to ease the pressure on her throat, but it was no use. She had become lightheaded from the pleasure and lack of air.

She was close to passing out, but she was also close to reaching her orgasm, it was just a matter of which one she would experience first.

"You're going to kill her, ease up on the choking."

Her blurry eyes dart to the bedroom door, a choked gurgle escaping her mouth when she sees him.

He was here, the one with the painted face. Except, his face wasn't painted, and he was watching her be fucked by his partner.

She gasped for air when he released her throat, her eyes still trained on the other one. She watches as he takes a seat at her vanity, leaning back on the chair and manspreading.

"Don't look at me, look at him. He's the one fucking you."

She does as told, her eyes connecting with the man on top of her. He had the same look in his eyes from that night when he chased after the girl trying to run away.

"Tell him how good he's making you feel, he loves the praise,"

"S-so good- Nghh. Fuck- " She could barely speak a full sentence, her speech slurred.

"That's all you can do? Come on dollface, he killed someone for you! Show him how grateful you are! He finally gets to feel you after watching me fuck you, give him the experience he deserves."

Her mind is reeling, incoherent babbles of praise falling from her lips. The more she praises him, the harder his thrust become, her sobs of pleasure getting louder.

It's not long before she felt that familiar coil in her stomach forming, ready to burst at any second - and all it took was one final thrust from the man on top of her to push her over the edge.

Her whole body shakes violently, her eyes rolling back as she feels the static rush through her body. Her ears were ringing, her vision blurry as she came down from her high.

She lays there shaking, her fingers twitching as she pants harshly. She was worn out, fucked, and tired.

Suddenly, he stands up from the vanity and slams his hand down on Chris's back, "Look at her....and I thought I wore her out." They both look down at her, trying to figure out what to do next.

Matt suddenly bends down and moves her hair out of her face, grabbing her chin softly.

"Wake up doll, your night has just started."

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt girl #emo!matt #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine

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takumiraine · 7 months ago

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Once upon a time Chapter 6

In which Danny has a bad night and Jason is conflicted.

“So you know how your friend walks home from GU?” Oracle asked, apropos nothing one night while Jason was mid patrol. The pit had been angry, and Jason was just looking for a fight.

“Now is not the best time to talk about him O,” Jason growled, swinging between buildings just to feel the brief rush of adrenaline from stepping off the roof of a building and falling. Watching the ground rush up to meet him. The pit had been angry over the last half hour, and it was only seeming to get worse.

“Alright. Just thought you’d want to know he is in a 6v1 in the Bowery and B is on his way.” Her tone was nonchalant, with an air of ‘have it your way’ even though he knew she knew he wouldn’t be able to leave it at that.

Jason, to his credit, did not splat on the ground or crash into a wall. But it was a near thing. “What?”

“I thought now wasn’t the best time?” She teased, before sending the location to his visor. “From the looks of things, he’s been trained by someone. Just did a sick Judo throw that would make A proud.”

“Is B going to get there first?”

“Oh yeah.” Jason groaned. It wasn’t going to go well.

“Can’t reroute him?”

“You want to tell him why?” Nope. Abso-fucking-lutely not.

“No”

“There’s your answer.”

Jason groaned again, trying his best to swing faster. The closer he got, the more the pit writhed.

—-

Danny met the eyes of Batman, his grin dropping into a scowl. “Why are you here?” He asked, hands clenching back into fists.

“I came to help.” Batman said, beginning to zip tie the criminals hands.

“Help? Help?” Danny scoffed, kicking a rock towards Batman’s feet. “Now you want to help? I don’t need it anymore.” Danny took a step towards him, finger pointing in his direction menacingly. Batman paused and looked down at him again.

“I am very sorry I did not get here sooner, young man. But-“ Danny stormed towards him, getting into the masked superhero’s face.

“But you’re years late guano-man. I asked. And I asked. And I begged. All you” Danny jabbed him in his armored chest with two fingers, core screaming a litany of -rage-hurt-fear-“sent were those government assholes. You call yourselves heroes up there in that fancy ass tower, with your billionaire’s funding, but the reality is, if someone doesn’t live in one of your protected towns then they’re on their fucking own!” Danny shoved him back, and Batman took a couple steps then looked at something above and behind Danny’s head. He didn’t even have the time to look before Batman spoke.

“Hood, now is not the best time.”

Danny spun then, eyes widening then narrowing. “And you!” He stomped over to Red Hood, jabbing him in the chest for good measure. “Are you following me?! First with the stabbing, and I’m not even in your territory and you’re here! you claim you’re not with this asshole, but you’re here? You-“

Danny stopped himself mouth dropping open and core twisting into -recognition-shock-betrayal-angry- eyes glowing green before he could stop them. “oh this is fucking rich. You are stalking me. Knowing where I live isn’t enough? You have to insert yourself into my fucking life?” He backed away from the two masked vigilantes getting both of them into his eyeline. “None of you, or anyone else in your little justice mafia, ever talk to me or try to help me again.”

Danny backed up, circling until he was clear of both of them. Then once he was far enough away, he broke into a run, turning the corner at the end of the block.

—-

“Fuck.” Jason muttered as he realized he had been found out. Seeing the Lazarus green in Danny’s eyes, feeling the fear, shock, betrayal and anger just rolling off of him, his own pit responding in kind.

“Hey B? It was heavily staticked, so I might be wrong, but did the kid say you sent the government after him?” Oracle asked after a long moment of silence.

“He did.”

“I hate that I even have to ask but…. Did you?”

“No. Is there anything we need people on at present?”

Oracle’s typing was heard in their ears for a moment “No, it doesn’t look like it.”

“Recall everyone from patrol to meet at the cave. We need to go over every inch of this and find out what we’re dealing with.”

Jason was slowly moving his hand toward his grapnel. He needed to process this before anything else. Before he could, an engine revved and the Batmobile was pulling up.

“Hood. In.”

“But-“ Jason began to argue, only for Bruce to shake his head. Batman pointed and Jason felt like he was a kid getting caught stealing tires again. The pit in him demanded he fight back, but after a standoff that he knew felt longer than it was he slid into the passenger seat, door shutting behind him.

“He acted like he recognized you.” Bruce said after getting in himself.

“Yeah.” Jason wasn’t going to be forthcoming just yet he was still trying to process what the fuck just happened.

“Hm.” He could feel every ounce of focus not on the road on him and it rankled.

“Just come out and say it B,” Jason snapped.

“You know what.”

“Maybe I don’t. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Hm.” God he was so much like Damien. The apple fell from that tree and became nestled safely on the next branch down.

Thankfully the conversation was interrupted by the clicks of several people joining the main comm line.

“Hey, I heard the recall.” Dick. Great. Just what he needed. Big brother swooping in. “Everyone have their limbs?”

“Possible compromise situation.” Was the only reply Bruce gave. Jason resisted the urge to slump in his seat like a child being picked up from school for fighting.

“I’ll be in asap.” Dick had to be the responsible first born. Asshole.

“I’m also on about the same time frame. Orphan and I are just handing off a minor robbery.” Spoiler’s voice chimed in.

“Robin and I are en route from the south. Riddler was trying to be clever and we were having fun breaking his riddles before he could even finish his spiel.” Red Robin seemed smug. Really those two were the only ones that found Eddy boy the slightest bit amusing.

“I believe he was considering checking himself back into Arkham he was so frustrated with our prowess.” Damian’s smugness was rolling off him through the comm chat.

There was a little bit of extra chatter as they wrapped up the eta conversation, but Jason was trying to decide if he could dive out of the Batmobile and escape before Bruce could turn around.

As if reading his thoughts, Bruce looked over at him and gave him a look. He knew Oracle was keeping an eye on their route too so driving wasn’t needed to be a focus. Jason frowned and even though the mask hid it, he was sure Bruce knew.

When they got to the cave and parked, Bruce got out and removed the cowl. He stood there, watching as Jason got out, pulling his own helmet off. He could still feel the pit scraping his insides, and looking for an escape. How much was his and how much was Danny’s Jason didn’t know.

“Explain before the others get here.”

Jason turned and walked deeper into the cave, taking his usual spot against the wall. “About a month ago, I interrupted a mugging turned stabbing. Kid ran off with the knife still in him. O gave me basic info and I joined GU to start my threat assessment. He hates Batman and the assorted heroes, hadn’t said why, isn’t fond of Bruce Wayne because he supports the JL financially. Had some potential for becoming a rogue in the future but mostly just wanted to be left alone.”

Bruce gave a hum, settling at the Bat Computer and typing. Not making notes, but looking through the information Oracle had already collected. When Jason didn’t continue, Bruce turned to look at him again.

“Kid was broke. Looked like hell, so I fed him and paid him to catch me up in math. Even though he’s in remedial classes he’s practically at the replacement’s level. He said he had spent most of high school ghosting his classes because they were murder. Seeing his eyes today…. I believe he was being very literal. We…. Became friendly. He did not know who I was until tonight.”

“How did that happen?”

“The pit reacted to him. It… usually does, but not as intensely as tonight. It seems to be tied to his emotional state. He was pissed at you so… What did you do to the kid?”

Bruce sighed. “I’ve never met him before. I think that might be the problem.”

Jason scoffed, standing in silence and staring at Bruce’s tortured expression. Bruce, six foot two slab of muscle, who had just been yelled at by a scrawny young man easily six inches shorter and weighing a hundred pounds less.

Danny had fire, Jason would give him that. Blood pouring from his nose, the start of two black eyes from the break and still facing two masked vigilantes who were known for beating people up, or killing them in Jason’s case, like they were part of the problem.

It was…. It was kind of hot if Jason was being honest. The kind of hot he would openly deny and take to his grave (again).

One by one the different groups joined them in the cave. All in their patrol outfits. All of them staring at Jason and Bruce like they were expecting an announcement of Armageddon beginning.

Once they were all assembled, Oracle popped up on one of the screens.

“So here is what we know.” Bruce began a rundown of the night, starting with Danny getting jumped by some of Scarecrow’s guys and putting them all in their place before yelling at him and recognizing Jason.

Oracle put the cleaned up video of Danny fighting the guys on screen, and if Jason hadn’t thought Danny was hot before…. He would most certainly have now. The way he used his opponents’ weapons and momentum against them? It was beautiful. Danny at one point jabbed a goon in the stomach with one of the batons he stole, then kicked a second goon into him, sending them both sprawling. And the judo throw was nothing short of artistry.

“This is the concerning part.” Oracle zoomed in on Danny’s eyes during the confrontation with Jason. One second they were normal, the next they were very clearly glowing. Jason knew that shade of green too well.

“Have you managed to get any background on him?” Dick asked, eyeing both him and Bruce carefully.

“Only the basics and even then I’m pretty sure it’s doctored. I’ve tried doing reverse image searches on him, both with and without the enhancements I’ve done,” she popped up a side by side of various before and after pictures showing Danny in various states of glitching and the reassembled image from her work. “Every time I try to get anything more I run into this.” She put up what looked to be a standard ‘access required’ page complete with ‘To gain access please call’ and then a number.

“I’ve looked for any sneaky back entrances but they all seem pretty well guarded. I can get in but I would definitely be noticed.” For Oracle to admit that? That was some pretty high tech protection.

“Let’s call the number. Anyone got a burner they don’t want anymore?” Spoiler looked around, holding out her hand. Jason pulled one out of his belt and tossed it to her.

“O, pull my shit off of it?” He asked, planning on transferring all of his more illicit activities to a new number next week anyways.

“Done and done.”

Stephanie dialed and put it on speakerphone. It rang twice then there was the click of the line picking up. “Government Information Warehouse. Please state your name and identification number.”

“Oh my goooood, that asshole!” Stephanie had her high school voice on with just the faintest bit of squeal and complete with twirling her hair around her finger, even though those in the cave were the only ones who could see. “sorry, sorry, not you. I met a really hot guy. Like, hot hot, you know? And I thought we were really vibing. And he gave me his number and I was like, score! But then I call it and I get you! So like, I’m really sorry I won’t call again!” She hung up.

“Well that was disturbing.” From Tim who got an elbow in the ribs from Stephanie. “Steph’s acting aside, what’s our next play B?”

Bruce looked thoughtfully at the screen.

“Let me talk to him.” Jason was speaking before he was even aware of it. “Maybe…. He can explain.”

“He looked like he was a second away from punching you too little wing. You think he’ll talk?”

Jason had no idea. “Fifty fifty. Maybe better if we give him some time to calm down.”

“So long as nothing else happens, you have one week to let him calm down.” Bruce agreed. “The rest of you, stay extra vigilant. Frequent check ins when on patrol, and when away from the manor. Anything abnormal, no matter how small gets reported immediately.” The various bats and birds gave their agreements and started filing up to the manor for whatever food Alfred had laying around no doubt.

Jason stayed, debating going up. He had one week to figure out how he was going to do this.

One week was not a lot of time.

#writing #fanfiction #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #jason todd #red hood #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #batfam

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valentine-cafe · 3 months ago

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hello! i hope you're having a great day / night!

may i order a tiramisu?

(top!reader)

thinking abt 781 alessio getting touchy with reader (when they clearly dont like each other) at school and taking him to his place only 4 him to get bent over and needy for him 😊

and if it's okay, can i be 🫧 anon?

🍒 𓂃 𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑼𝑷 : tiramisu !! . . . bttm mercenary ⊹ top dom m. reader .

. ᘛ 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔﹕verse 781 ꮽ alessio arias

𐔌𖹭 ˖ ࣪ who's that ?⠀﹕a charming, smug inhuman mercenary, with a provocative sense of humor and a few punches

ּ ֗ recepit ℘ ... hatefucking your annoying smug engineering classmate after he got touchy with you⊹ cw ٬٬ hatefucking . rough sex . anal . hair pulling ( alessio receiving ) . degredation . handjob . spanking . spit kink . creampie . cum squirting <3 . ( yes you may be 🫧 anon ! <3 )

What's better than fucking someone you hate? Alessio knew how loathing fires could translate to the bedrooms. The heat he'd fan over you would be so much more apparent than simply shoving you into the changing room locker and feeling you up your shirt. Oh, how he could pin you beneath him and go to town staining your thighs with his bruises. Give you something to keep your mouth shut since its always open with insults for him.

The last thing he expected, were for his thighs to sport your bruises.

"Fuck - fuuckk slow - slow down -" his deep voice lilts with pleasure. How you wish you strung up that mirror in your living room last week. You would have had a perfect view of his fucked-out expression as you pound his poor ass from behind.

It should be criminal how good he looks bent over your sofa. Muscular thighs twitch and strain as your balls slap against his ass, bloom the olive skin red together with your battering hips. You imagine those usually smug emerald now cross at the centre with little hearts in them.

You have to see for yourself. One hand leaves his hip, but not without one more tight smack for good measure. Your fingers then bury into dark hair and yank his head back. Strings of his drool make a mess on the throw cushion. You grunt.

"Wow, Arias." You sport a breathy chuckle. Ram your hips forward and start humping on his ass. So that his body jerks and he lets out the most pathetic whine. "All that talk and you can't even take dick like a good boy?" Another swat to his ass. This time you grip the flesh tight and start searching for the spot that has the most pitiful sounds leaking from his lips.

"All that talk - " You groan at the way he squeezes your cock. Two can play at that game. You reach around and grab his dick. Jerk and pump it, rub a cruel thumb on the tip so that he stutters out whines.

"All that talk and you're just a messy slut once it all comes down to it."

You yank his head back further. Hook your palm around his chin instead and stuff his mouth with your fingers. Before a wad of your spit hits the back of his throat. His arched body forces his ass back onto you fuller and you return the favour with brutal thrusts.

"Swallow." You hiss. Smooch his cheek. Groan as you hear his pathetic little whine as he gulps down your spit and tenses around your merciless hand.

"G-Gonna -" he heaves. His whimper twitches you lips into a grin. You shove his face back into the pillow and ease out to the tip, ram his poor hole harder, deeper, so that he croaks out whatever sentence he's been building. "G-Gonna cum - gonna - fuck, dios p-por favorr - too much-!"

"Now it's too much? I don't think so." You heave, hold his large body down and fuck him until he's drooling into the pillow. Squirting all over your sofa. Suppose you'll have a new favourite spot on the fabric. "Not when you're cummin' like that."

You shallow once more. Stuff him full as you slip into groans and muffled moans when your face drops to press wet kisses down his neck. Oh, that loud mouth sounds so much better whining your name.

"Not when you're taking it so well. Nah, gimme another, whore."

꒰ ۪ ˖ ࣪ 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑢 ... info ꮽ mlist ꮽ verse ꮽ wiki .

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faerygrant · 2 years ago

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knee socks - carmen berzatto x waitress reader

summary: four discoveries come about your and carmens secret relationship; he’s very into knee socks, you’re acquainted with a staff member he has a tricky relationship with, he can be possessive and weirdly enough he likes being called daddy?

You’d stayed back last night to help Carmen, despite the raging headache that had caused you to have to take a 30 minute break from waiting tables just to rest your head. Carmen appreciated that, and was not shy in showing you. Once he’d insured everyone had gone home for the night, doors locked and safety measures taken care of, he had come into the office and kissed you softly, before walking you to your apartment. Where things had escalated, resulting in you falling asleep stuffed and sated and Carmy going home with a pair of your panties.

Today however you felt refreshed, you’d woken up at the crack of dawn, showered, threw on your uniform and decided you’d wear a pair of knee socks due to the cold fall weather. You arrived to the usual chaos of The bear, Tina and Sydney getting started on prep, Marcus unloading the batter he’d made the night before and Richie barking orders at your fellow waitstaff about today’s schedule. Carmy however wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so you assumed he was in his office going over stock orders or doing payroll.

“Hey, you look pretty good this morning princess” Rich or Richie to everyone else, whispers into your ears.

“Don’t be gross Rich.” You mumble, grabbing your apron and tying it around your waist as he mockingly smiled back at you.

“Damn can’t even give out compliments anymore.” He throws his hands up in mock self defence.

Your and Richie’s relationship was simple, he was a longtime friend of your brothers and had always been mockingly flirty and playful with you, occasionally you’d reciprocate the flirtyness but it was all in good fun. Carmy however hated it, so much so that he’d ensure he did his best to put a distance between you two most of the time.

As the day went on Carmen would make subtle appearances from the office, coming into the kitchen to help Sydney with recipes she was working on, answering some of Tina’s questions, giving Marcus the green-light on some new dessert ideas, the works. But what you noticed from these appearances were the glances he kept making towards you, or specifically towards your legs. Until it finally hit you, it was the knee socks.

Carmen couldn’t think straight with the way you were just casually waiting tables while looking like a goddess. Your uniform clung so nicely to your body, your smile ever so bright and those god damned knee socks. He was convinced you were trying to send him into cardiac arrest. He’d never even known he had a thing for those until today and he wasn’t about to let them go to waste.

carmen 🐻

You busy right now?

you

Kinda, why?

carmen 🐻

Need your help in the office, now.

you

Alright, coming

"Hi" you smiled shyly, walking up to his desk and taking a seat on one of the chairs opposite his desk.

"Come 'ere " he says lowly, beckoning you forward with two fingers. You slowly get out of the chair and make your way behind the desk to his side.

"Hi, again" you say as you look down at him, with a sweet smile on your face.

"Hey, feelin' any better, since last night?" He questions as he turns his chair to face you and pulls you in between his legs, his hands holding your hips in place.

"Y-yeah a little, thank you by the way" you reply softly, flustered by the touch he was so lovingly giving you.

"Your welcome, just wanted to make sure you were alright, it was so worth it" he smiled as his hands began to roam, up and down your hips.

"Wh- why was it worth it?" You reply, voice barely above a whisper, as you look down at him though your lashes.

"I got to kiss you, touch you, and keep your panties" he smirked at the last part, knowing it was going to annoy you.

"Thanks for reminding me to kick you for that by the way." You playfully swat his shoulder and he fakes a pout. You began laughing at him.

"What?" He asks, curiously.

"Nothing" you smile as you lift your hands to play with his hair.

"No tell me" he insists, as he squeezes your hips and pulls you down, to straddle him.

"Mmm, it's just I didn't expect you to be such a softie" you smile as you move down on him a little harder, to feel his crotch.

"Of fuck- I" he tries talking but the feeling of you pressed down against him is too much.

"Fuck-“ he says your name “you're gonna kill me" he replies as he pushes his hips against you and you feel his hard on.

“These knee socks have been killing me all day, did you wear em just f’me?” He grunts the last part.

“I did, wanted to impress you.” You smile, wiggling into him.

“It worked, I’m fuckin impressed and so hard f’you.” He smiles into a kiss he plants on your lips.

"I want you now, please daddy" you weren't sure where the 'daddy' came from, but honestly you didn’t care at this point, you needed him. His eyes widen and you're pretty sure you feel him get even harder once the word leaves your mouth.

"I'm your daddy?" He questions you with a smirk on his face.

"Ye-yeah, daddy" you whispered as you continue to grind down on him.

"That's right, I'm your daddy, keep grinding on your daddy till you cum" he groans, face all red.

"Mmmm" you whisper against his neck as you continue. Just as you feel him moving to reposition you, the phone in his office begins to ring. You look up at him and he shakes his head.

"Leave it, keep goin" he groans as he pulls you down, once more. You're so close to your climax when the phone rings again.

"Mmm, just answer it" you groan as you attempt to get off him, he however pulls you back down and answers the phone.

"What?"

"Ok, and?"

"Fine"

"I'll send her in"

He slams the phone back down and kisses you hungrily once more. You oblige and bring your hands up to his hair.

"Who was it?" You ask, pulling back from the kiss.

"Dumbass Richie, he wants to see you, claims one the regulars is here and only you can help him service them" he spits, you can tell he’s annoyed by Richie’s interruption.

"Rich’s always been quite the mood stealer" you smile, as he kisses your neck lightly.

"Rich?" He questions as he pulls back from your neck and looks up at you.

"Yeah, Rich?" You reply confused, had you said the wrong thing?

"Why the fuck, do you call him that?" He asks angrily, as he lets go of your waist. Alright so Carmy’s moods did always change quickly, noted.

"He's a family friend, I've known him since I was like 18 he's like a brother to me, at-least that's how I feel about him." You reply, whilst putting his hands back on your waist.

"Alright then, Good" he says refusing to smile.

"Why the long face, hmmm?" You question as you smile at him.

"I don't want anyone else to have you, I'm territorial, possessive, I don't know call it what you want but you're mine now and I don't need anyone getting in the way of that" he smirks.

"Mmmm, I just loveeee being owned by men, it's so empowering" you say sarcastically.

"I don't mean it in that way, you know that" says Carmy quickly, afraid you misunderstood him.

"I'm just fucking with you, and this may sound a bit anti-feminist, but I like the thought of belonging to you" you whisper into his ear, leaving him groaning.

"Alright we'll, Rich’s waiting for me, bye Carmy" you say as you try to get off of him. His grip however is too strong and he manages to pull you back down.

"I want to take you out for dinner tomorrow night, somewhere nice but chill ,not too fancy." He says shyly.

"I- I would love too, also not too fancy? this doesn't sound like Michelin star chef Carmen Berzatto" you joke, and he simply smiles at you. He finally let's you out of his grip and you give him a sweet peck, before making your way to the door. Before you can leave the office he calls out to you.

"Wear something pretty ok?"

You turn around and smile at him before replying with poise, "only for daddy"

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x reader #the bear fic #carmy smut

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manmadejoyswithinmycomprehension · 7 months ago

Note

Hiii I just wanted to say from what i’ve seen I really love your work and I was wondering if I could get some smut for Mr.Stitch? Preferably descriptions of male genitalia,If not then that’s fine also!

Hihi! Thank you for sending in a request! I hope I understood your request well, so here we have it :3 I feel like this wasnt up to par, so feel free to leave feedback!

Mr. Stitch x m!reader (NSFW)

tw: mentions of those little ghostly hands in the lake scene (slight spoilers? maybe, idk if it counts)

After another earthquake that switched and destroyed multiple paths, it was obviously clear that the way you came from was now dust, and the only way forward was a small metal bridge that went over the patch of water which you already knew was full of ghostly hands, eager to grab and drown anyone who dared to go near. You loitered nearby the ruins of rooms that once were filled with various objects, when an idea struck you: if you could find a crack in any surface, Mr. Gap could take you away! It felt like a thousand years as you searched for a space big enough to fit you, but to no avail. You slumped against a heap of concrete when heavy knocking and thumping shook up the area. The voice leaking from the other side sounded familiar; so, pointing your dominant hand to the blockage, you blasted it away. Cowering in a corner, Mr. Stitch was shaking like a leaf.

"You good?" Your voice bounces off the walls as you speak, redirecting his attention towards you. A wide smile erupts on his face, and he throws himself in your arms.

"Thing fell my head, me sleep long! Me happy see you!"

...ah, something knocked him out. Explains why it was so quiet before. You reach out and rub his hair awkwardly in an attempt to comfort him. Having released him, you did your best to communicate with him and pointed towards the only available exit. His eye twitched, and he leaned down to take a good look at the water.

"Safe!" He exclaimed before strutting along the bridge. When he hands sprung out and dragged him down, you were quick to pull him back up, water splashing all over the place, the bridge now slippery and mostly unusable.

So, as a last resort, you and Mr. Stitch decided to wait until the bridge was dry again and then run over it as fast as possible. While you were sitting on the cold floor, the man wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled into your neck.

"Bored... Want fun?"

Lower and lower went his hand, slipping under your clothes, starting to tease your cock. His expression was unreadable, mainly because of the hair covering most of his face, but as he started to stroke faster, your mind went blank. The potent mix of frustration, arousal and weariness exploded inside of your body, making your back arch. Mr. Stitch seemed to enjoy seeing you weakened and at his mercy - while you were too stimulated to pay attention, he removed your clothes, and was now actively trying to loosen you up. In response, you collapse on him, your warm cheek resting against his icy chest. Showing no sign of stopping, the ghostly figure shoved two fingers inside of your mouth, poking and pulling the tongue that slithered around them. With a loud pop, he retracted and spat on them for good measure.

For a little while, he let go of your tormented cock and bent you over his lap. Precum pooled beneath your stomach, forming a small spot on the dirty floor. Your knees scraped against the rough material once Mr. Stitch moved you, his big hand now making contact with the sensitive flesh of your ass. An embarrassingly high-pitched squeal rips from your throat, making the other one laugh.

"Fun! You fun!"

You turn your head around quickly, glaring daggers at him. Mr. Stitch smirks, spanking you again with no remorse. Before you could punch him or squirm away, he inserts the two slimy fingers inside of you, relishing the way you reacted. With his free hand, he keeps you steady, as the other vigorously pumps in and out of your now sloppy hole. Your toes curl and your muscles tense, the sensation pulsing throughout your body. The strange man fucks you with his fingers harder and harder, the vibrations reaching your cock and acting as yet another stimulus. Suddenly, he shoves you down on your back, his head now between your thighs. He took your sensitive length in his mouth, sucking on it and teasing the tip with his tongue as he added a third finger. You grasped his hair and tugged on it harshly, unable to think whether you should push or pull him to you. You teetered on the brink of climax, your vision blurry as you clamped your thighs around his face and forced him to take your cum down his throat. Your legs fell limp at his sides, and he snapped his fingers in front of you to catch your attention. Mr. Stitch made a loud gulping noise and opened his mouth, winking at you.

"You tasty! Me good, see?"

You groan at the sight, dropping back to the floor. Your body was shaking due to the cold and the earlier activities, and a sudden clarity washed over you... Did you seriously just do that? With a mildly insane ghost? What is wrong with-

"Up!"

Mr. Stitch dragged you by your legs, turned you around and folded you into a pretzel, until your knees touched your shoulders, and his chest pressed up against your back. You were placed directly above his throbbing cock, a bulging, prominent vein running along his shaft catching your attention. The tall man licked your ear, eliciting a gasp out of you and a shudder. He lowered you onto him with a gentleness which was unusual for his character. As you peeked back at his face, you noticed it was scrunched up in a pleasured expression, eyebrows furrowed and lips shut tight. His cheeks were rosy and his forehead was stuck to the nape of your neck - it was weirdly endearing, seeing him like that. But your fascination didn't last long, the daydream interrupted by his thrusting. The first few movements were to test the waters, and you could hear him whispering "where" repeatedly, as if searching for something. It didn't feel bad, but it didn't feel amazing either, having something poke and prod at your insides. You held in your voice, sometimes breathing out tiny whimpers. It didn't take long for Mr. Stitch to find what he wanted, his feat signaled by a lewd scream coming from you.

"Here!"

He held your legs tighter, now using you like a toy as he bounced you up and down his hardened length. The animalistic pounding against your prostate fueled your arousal, Mr. Stitch's exaggerated moans right next to your ear doing anything but diminishing it. You'd never felt such sensations before, and you desperately tried to hold onto something - anything, your hands reaching back to scratch his waist. Inevitably, you were going to fall. In response, Mr. Stitch brought you closer to the wall separating your small area from the haunted waters. You leaned your arms against it, sliding down slowly as the ghost wrapped himself against your torso. He moved you once again, closer to the water, one of your feet resting on the bridge, the other on a small, dry space between the wall and the murky liquid. Mr. Stitch was now beneath you, thrusting wildly in your abused hole, until you stumbled backwards and relied on your arms for support. Transparent hands shot out from the waters, grabbing your cock and stroking it without mercy, focusing on the tip and the underside of the shaft. Mr. Stitch grabbed your nipples, tweaking and pinching them until they were bright red and aching, now hard and sensitive. Unable to hold it in any longer, you let your moans spill out as you came, milking the ghostly man for all he had. The hands coaxed you through your orgasm, and they would have continued if it wasn't for your partner dragging you away.

Your ears rang as Mr. Stitch dressed you up and threw you over his shoulder, patting your ass for good measure as he walked hastily along the bridge.

"You fun! We stay together!"

Something made you think that this wouldn't be the last time you see him. Just a hunch, though.

#homicipher smut #homicipher x you #homicipher #homicipher x reader #mr stitch #mr stitch homicipher #mr stitch x reader #mr stitch x you #homicipher male reader #homicipher x male reader

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kalivodas · 10 months ago

Text

part two to this little thang

warnings this is nasty he is nasty we are nasty i am nasty :/ freeuse! reader, p in v and m!received oral and he’s kinda mean about it but he’s so pretty you barely notice. DUBCON ! ! !

YOUR MIND IS reeling when kyle stalks away from you. he’d reached inside your chest, plucked out your heart and played with it right infront of you. squeezed it twice for good measure and shoved it back in with a grin on his face.

“prick,” you mumble to the empty air of your shared living room.

a sick little thought falls into the rather unyielding part of your head. it dances on your tongue, burns like fever and makes you jump to your feet like hot coals were under your ass. they were about to be.

you pad off to the bathroom, soft tiptoes as you, with as much silence as you can muster, crack open the bathroom door. the showers loud and hot, beating on his skin like the sun in the middle of july.

you grab his things. towel hooked on the wall, the fresh clothes he had folded on the counter, dirty ones he had kicked off. you throw them all on his bed, and amble back into the living room to prepare for combat.

your hands hang uncomfortably in your lap. waiting. waiting. waiting a little mor—

kyle yells your name. it doesn’t sound mean, though, but like you’d just started a game you didn’t know the rules to.

“yeah?” you call back nonchalantly. the bathroom door clicks and you picture him, junk in hand, shivering and stalking off to his bedroom.

you fall into a little heap of giggles. until you hear the soles of his feet carry him into the living room. your head jerks around, almost involuntarily, and your jaw seems to unhinge itself from your top row of teeth.

kyle garrick was as naked as the day he was born. infront of you. grinning.

there was no shame to him, you’d have to buy some and shove it down his throat for that.

you are staring up at him, indecorously, then down, then back up for a moment. he was chubbing up. the bastard, you think. your jaw snaps shut when he closes the space between the two of you.

“think you’re funny, lovie?” he asks, gaze pressing onto you like it’d hurt him to look away.

you nod your head a little. “well, yeah.”

“brat.” the words bite, sting for a few moments, but the way his face softens at you — lips turning up sweetly, you don’t know whether to tear up or mewl.

his hands caress your face, envelope it between those two taut palms. he leans down and kisses your mouth. his tongue finds your lips, prying and pushing until he’s licking inside your mouth like he wants to find sanctuary.

you whine. his groan vibrates your teeth.

his posture straightens, one hand finds his own cock, and he strokes it once or twice before he’s directing the hard length to your cheek. he taps it against your mouth, lets his chest shake when you let out a pathetic whimper.

“what, you don’t like it when i’m mean to you?” he coos.

your head shakes, bottom lip protruding into a ruby pout. the way you shift on your thighs say otherwise.

“if i shoved my hand down those pretty shorts, your pussy wouldn’t drip on me, would it, baby?” he laughs when he feels fever hit your cheeks. he strokes his thumb against it before he pinches your jaw.

“open up.”

your pupils blow, but you listen to him. your tongue falls from your mouth, and you widen your mouth as far as possible.

he was— fuck, it was huge.

he spits on your tongue before he’s shoving his dick in the gap of your mouth. his body shudders at how wet your fucking mouth is.

he’s sweet at first, just slides himself up and down your tongue. when drool starts to pour from the corners of your cheeks, the saccharine of him melts.

gaz hooks a finger in your cheek to allow himself further in, and when your throat seizes around him, he pulls out quickly. stares down at you for a minute, and big, searching eyes stare up at him. he thinks there are fat tears pricking the corner of them.

“‘m not gonna last with that pretty mouth,” he stammers out, and the revelation seems to draw you further in. you reach back out, wrap a hand around all you can manage of that lovely cock, and put those pouty lips right to work.

your eagerness excited him. you can feel it against the flat of your tongue, how he seems to jump in your mouth, how his hips stutter and his vice on you tightens.

“want it in my mouth,” you whine. “fill it up, pretty boy.”

he comes at that, thick white spurts hitting the back of your throat as your nose tickled his base. his hand is set like stone on the back of your neck, and he doesn’t realize until you’re sputtering for air.

“fuck,” he pants, and pulls you out of your seat so he can finally put his bloody mouth on yours again. “why’ve we neva’ tried that?”

“dunno,” you place a wet kiss on gaz’s face. “i’m not a frequent klepto.”

his chest rumbles as he tugs you up and onto his lap. he’s already rocking a mean semi, but his hips glide up to your thighs, and he meets that warm, soft, wetness of you, he’s ready to bully his cock into you until the sun comes up.

a/n : dedicated to the people who asked for a continuation sending x’s and o’s @iite-cool @mistydeyes @yuksthings 💋 💋 💋

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charliemwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Part 6 of childhood friend Simon

“You missed a spot.”

“Like hell I did.”

Simon’s eye twitches as you snort, turning back to your phone. “Some sniper you are, blind bastard.”

The silence stretches for one, two, three…..

“Where?” he sighs.

“Left side of your jaw.” You gesture at the spot just near where it curves, a few centimeters from the corner. He runs his thumb over the spot and finds a patch of stubble.

“Fuck.”

“‘Like hell I did’,” you mock.

He narrows his eyes, points threateningly. “Watch it or I’ll shave an eyebrow.”

You snort, unconcerned. “Remember that time I did shave my eyebrows?”

He smirks as he runs the razor over the bit he missed, double checks he got it, then rinses in the sink.

“Wasn’t it because of some stupid YouTube video?”

“Yes, and I still have nightmares about having to draw them in.”

He nearly snorts water everywhere trying not to laugh, quickly wiping his face off with the towel you hand him.

“Didn’t your mum start calling you caterpillar girl?”

Your mouth drops open, scandalized.

“Simon Riley you swore you’d never bring that up again!”

He laughs outright as you chase him from the bathroom, whacking him in the arm. When he puts his hands up in mock surrender, you give him one last swat for good measure.

“Assaulting a military officer is illegal.”

You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re legally dead, aren’t you? So wouldn’t that be desecrating a corpse?”

“I’ll have to ask Laswell.”

“Or we could ask Johnny. I bet he’ll know.”

The implication of Johnny knowing versus having an opinion is not something Simon’s equipped to parse before his first cuppa.

“Johnny’s just gonna side with you.”

You shrug - because it’s true. Johnny may be Simon’s (other) best friend, but he’s also a shithead that takes every opportunity to fuck with Ghost. And with you around “protecting” him, he’s been an absolute bastard.

“Then we’ll ask Gaz and John too,” you offer as you step into your shoes.

You’ve been lining them up next to his boots off to the side. The contrast of big, black leather next to your much smaller trainers would be almost comedic if it didn’t make his chest warm.

A reminder that you’re here with him, in a place he usually spends all his time wishing to see you. He’s called you countless times on the same bed you’ve been sharing for the past week. And now you’re wearing his official SAS hoodie (complete with his name on the back) and invading his wardrobe, about to go with him to breakfast in the mess.

Johnny, in a shocking twist, doesn’t think it’s desecrating a corpse to smack Simon.

“Well, he’s Ghost, aye? So it’d be exorcising him, no?”

Your eyes go all big as you turn to Simon with unholy delight. He makes a mental note to throw Johnny onto the mat once more than usual during their next spar.

That’ll have to wait though, because he’s promised you range time and then the obstacle course. Johnny tags along, interested to see your marksmanship when Simon’s talked it up so much.

He watches on, pride bright and hot in his chest, as you walk through all the steps he’s taught you. It’s even his favorite gun in your steady hands, fingers elegant as you load, chamber. Click the safety off and settle into your preferred stance.

The first two shots hit the target, though off to the side, the second closer to center than the first. You pause, take a breath before he even says anything. Then fire again. And again. And again. Until the mag is empty and he brings the paper target back.

A neat cluster of 15 holes, dead center.

“Atta girl,” he rasps, tugging you into his side and pressing a kiss against your hair.

“I did good?” you ask, beaming.

“Lass, even those first two would have been the end of some poor sod,” Johnny chimes in, patting your shoulder. “Guess the LT isn’t such a bad teacher after all.”

Simon narrows his eyes. “Was that even a question?”

Johnny shoves the ammo box at you. “A pint says you can’t do it again.”

“You’re on!”

—

The obstacle course is slightly less of a success.

“Oh, hey, Si,” you giggle, clinging onto the rope for dear life. “Ya come here often.”

He snorts. “Did you get stuck?”

“No!” You huff, scowling. “Im just… hanging around.”

He’s enjoyed watching you navigate the course - more importantly, he likes that you enjoy climbing around. Even if he’s had a small heart attack every time your foot slips or you wobble.

“Oi, you’re holding up traffic,” Gaz huffs, rapping his knuckles against your foot.

“Do you mind?” you call back. “Im telling Simon bad jokes.”

“Oh, by all means then.”

Simon snorts, jerks his head for you to continue. Johnny laughs as you shimmy along, laughs harder when you almost fall flipping him off.

Once you make it to the other side, Gaz climbs up after you and starts demonstrating how to do the next section. Simon and Johnny follow along, the latter cheering you on.

Movement from the corner of his eye draws his attention; Price, determined set to his shoulders. Simon recognizes the glint in his eye.

“Got ‘em?” Simon asks, hopeful.

Having you spend all day with him on base has been a subconscious fantasy come true. You, close by and safe, under 24/7 guard. But the circumstances have made his skin crawl, made it difficult to enjoy the novelty. Woken him up in the small hours of the night and hug you as close as he can without waking you.

“Fuckin’ got ‘em,” Price confirms. “Laswell’s got the docket prepped. All that’s left it briefing and prep. You can be wheels up in a few hours.”

Simon cracks his neck, anticipation sparking in his veins. His gaze slides to you, to his teammates helping you down from the wall. Price follows your gaze.

“You good for this one, Simon? Got your head on straight?”

Simon flicks him a look. “You know I’m good.”

“I know Ghost is good. What about Simon?”

He blinks, gaze going back to you. You can tell already even from a distance, by the set of his shoulders, that something is going on. You’re still relaxed, but there’s a questioning curve to your mouth as you stop at his side, fingers curling in the sleeve of his shirt.

“Something happened?” you ask.

“We found the group targeting you.”

“Oh!” You arch your eyebrows, eyes bouncing between him and Price. “You’ll be taking care of it, then?”

Simon turns back to Price, a silent “well?”.

“We’ll discuss strategies during the brief.”

You perk up. “Do I get to come?”

“Might as well,” Price sighs. “Let’s go.”

—

In the end, of course Simon is going to go. You’re his girl, always have been. He trusts his team, but when it comes to you, he’ll see this done right. And the only way to be sure, the only way to have peace, is for him to eliminate the threat himself.

Johnny’s coming along, of course. The slightest bit of tension in your shoulders eases when Price decides it. Simon presses his thigh into yours.

When the brief is done, strategies and timelines set, you follow him back to his barrack. He gears up while you sit on the bed, idly inspecting his vest while he straps into everything else.

“Nervous?” he asks.

You tilt your head back and forth considering. “Not more than usual before you leave. It seems like this is pretty standard for you, more or less. Why, should I be nervous?“

He snorts. That’s his girl. “No.”

You hum, picking at the Velcro of his SAS patch. He pauses, watches your face. You’re not anxious, but there’s… something.

“What’s up, buttercup?” he asks, chucking you gently under the chin.

“I…” you pause, hum. Try again. “I don’t like that you’re going out just because of me.”

He frowns, settles on the edge of his bed. You lean with the dip in the mattress, pressing warm and solid against his side.

“I feel like… like I messed up somehow, and now you have to fix it for me.”

He blows out a breath, yanking the mask off. You tilt your head to look at him, eyes soft, the tiniest frown on your face. He peels his glove off too, to cup your cheek. Revels in the warmth and smooth skin against his scars and callouses, always a little surprised when you lean into it.

“I’d get you world peace if you asked for it,” he replies.

“You’d be out of a job,” you half-joke.

“You are my job, daft thing.” He shakes his head, leans in until he can thunk his forehead gently against yours. “You’re what brought me back from the grave. Knew I still had work to do, that you still needed taking care of.”

You sniffle a bit. Always do when he digs up the words to remind you how much you mean to him. Not that he thinks you ever doubt it. How could you? But sometimes, he thinks, it bears repeating.

“You haven’t made a mess, luv. But even if you did, I’m always right here with a mop, yeah?”

He’d burn alive just to keep you warm. Drown to fetch you a glass of water. Anything, everything. Just so long as you’re still here, still his.

“I’ll take care of this and then come home to you. Due for a holiday anyway.”

You close your eyes, a faint little smile tilting your lips. He can’t look away. Never can.

“We can go on that camping trip you’ve been talking about,” you say.

“Yeah, luv. Toast marshmallows like the old days.”

You hum, a proper smile finally blooming across your face.

“Okay,” you murmur. “Promise you’ll come back. Both of you.”

“Promise. Be good for Price while I’m gone.”

You open your eyes, a mischievous sparkle in them. “We’ll see.”

—

You see him off on the tarmac, serene and assured. Stripped of faith and belief, there is one certainty in your life, always and forever. And it’s Simon. He’s going to come home to you, because he promised he would.

“Raise hell, Si.”

“Already raised the dead,” he muses, hell shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Aye, I’ve got just the C-for it.”

You groan at the joke, but don’t deny Johnny a parting hug and peck on the cheek. “Look out for each other.”

“Will do, hen.”

You don’t hug or kiss Simon. Don’t need to, you’ve said your goodbyes. You squeeze his hand and then step back as he heads for the plane with Johnny chattering all the way.

“Alright, little miss?” Price asks when it’s just the two of you.

“Always,” you reply, turning to smile at him.

You have to be, for Simon.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #childhood friend simon #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader

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justwinginglife · 10 months ago

Text

The Waiting Game

The line between friends and lovers is dangerously thin and Soshiro Hoshina likes to fucking cartwheel down that tightrope like it's his personal plaything.

Any stranger walking by could see he was clearly checking you out, but if asked, he'd simply shrug and say something about how it was his duty as your friend to make sure your fly was zipped or your socks were matching. He never thought to make himself less obvious as he took in the sight of your shirt that dangled just a little too low or your pants that hugged your curves just a little too tight. He didn't have to. If you claimed to notice his wandering gaze, you'd be setting yourself up for a witty rebuttal. He might say, "Oh, look who's paying so much attention to me, if I didn't know better, I'd say you liked me," or even, "Don't go telling me you didn't wear those clothes on purpose, we both know the truth." He had all sorts of banter at the ready, quips locked and loaded. He wanted to corner you, to checkmate you, to coax a confession from your supple lips. Of course he loved you. But it was much more fun to make you admit you loved him too.

And you did. You wore that shirt on purpose, you wore those pants on purpose. You bent over in those pants on purpose. But two could play at this game, and you were awfully good at chess.

If he was a tightrope walker, you were a sword swallower. You could take anything he'd throw at you, gulp it down, lick your lips, and have room for seconds. Maybe throw in a burp for good measure.

So the circus act continued, both of you juggling offense and defense, both of you thinking yourself the lion tamer. It was anyone's guess at this point, who would cave in first.

You pictured the two of you on your deathbeds, your hands wrinkled with age, still trying to wring a confession from each other's throats. It was honestly a terrifying notion, thinking that eighty years from now, your feelings might accompany you to the grave, unvoiced, unreciprocated. But it hadn't been eighty years yet, it had only been one, and your pride was still in prime condition, even despite Soshiro's attempts to wear it down.

When he bragged to you about his hot date, eager for your reaction, you simply pointed him to your favorite flower shop and told him what to buy her. When he ended up not going through with it because some mysterious illness overtook him, an illness that only lasted the length of what would have been the date, you simply smirked and remarked on how convenient it was that his condition was so particular. He had shrugged, saying, "Maybe I was allergic to her, who knows?" You had laughed and he had smiled. Then you both went about your usual day, stealing time from each other whenever you could, sneaking glances, subtly inching closer, the distance both an inch and a galaxy apart.

The gap only widened when Captain Ashiro relayed to the Third Division news of the Winter Ball. It was like prom for soldiers, and when you heard the announcement, you felt like you were right back in high school- everything infamously familiar, right down to the nerves that threatened to swallow you whole.

You could always pull the, "You're single, I'm single, let's go as friends," card. But you weren't sure that either of you would be content with that resolution. Neither one of you wanted to resign yourselves to a night of awkwardly sitting at a side table, using small talk to fill the simmering silence, as you watched other couples slow dance their way into oblivion.

But unfortunately for the both of you, rather than declare a draw, your little game with each other continued, even as the event drew nearer. You'd ask him who he was going with, feigning nonchalance, and he'd dodge the question, feigning ignorance.

At some point, you bought yourself a dress, though you had no idea why. There was only a week to go, and still, no one had asked you for the pleasure of your company on that night, not even him. You weren't sure you should even go. But still, you let your hopes drape from a hanger in your closet, in case maybe he decided to overturn the chessboard, throw the match, ask you out.

Narumi beat him to the punch.

When you asked him why he was asking you so late in the game, he merely shrugged, saying he hadn't realized the ball was happening in the first place, but now he knew and he wanted you.

Soshiro had caught wind of it.

He ignored you until an hour before the dance.

He knew you liked to hide on the roof when you got nervous, and as he climbed the stairs to the top, he begged you to be there. He hoped you were having second thoughts about going with Narumi. He hoped you were pacing in your dress, waiting for him to whisk you away, because he was ready to whisk you away. He had dragged his feet through this whole fucking charade, and now he suddenly found his own pace too exceedingly, disgustingly slow for his liking.

When he got to the roof, all that awaited him was a cold breeze and the night sky. He collapsed on the floor, leaning back to take in all the stars. He didn't care anymore if he got his suit dirty, he only wore it for you anyway. His finger traced patterns of constellations as the white of his breath stained the air. He wished on every single star that he could see you tonight, all dressed up and gorgeous. He didn't have to see you to know you looked stunning. But he had planned to go home after he finished this sulking session. He didn't want to see how happy you looked with Narumi. Of all the people, why did it have to be him? The idea of you with anyone else but him made him ache, but the idea of you with Narumi made him want to tie a noose around his neck.

Another half hour of brooding later, he decided he needed to go home. That, or freeze to death, which would serve him right. But he turned towards the door and suddenly, there you were, his light in the dark, his warmth in the cold. And you were dazzling. He knew you would be. You always were, no matter what you were wearing.

"Y-you're here."

You nodded. "I'm here. And you're here. Why are you here?"

He pulled his jacket tighter around him. "This is your spot."

You raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it is. Were you looking for me?" You tried to keep the hopefulness out of your voice, but it seeped into the frosty air all the same.

He fidgeted with his cufflinks, nodding slowly.

You began walking over to him, and he knew you were going to sit down so he quickly took his jacket off for you to sit on. He didn't want to ruin your dress.

You shook your head at him. "You look freezing, put your jacket back on. How long have you been out here anyway?" You threw his jacket back around his shoulders, plopping down next to him, unbothered by your dress.

He blushed and looked away. "That's not important."

The silence resumed.

"It's your favorite color." You blurted out suddenly, desperate to fill the air with something, with anything.

He immediately knew you meant your dress. He had noticed. "It's nice."

You coughed.

He chuckled. "Alright, it's more than nice. You look breathtaking. Seriously, I'm having trouble breathing with you so close to me." He teased as he nudged you with his shoulder, trying to make light of the awkward situation.

"You don't look so bad yourself. Even for someone who's half frozen to death. So why were you looking for me?"

He bit his lip. "Had a, uh, question... for you."

You settled your head on his shoulder and you felt him tense up. "And what's this question of yours that's so important you almost gave yourself frostbite?"

"Will you.... will you go to the dance with me?" He held his breath as the words left his mouth.

You laughed. "Little late, don't you think? We're about a half hour away from it."

He groaned. "I know, I know. But don't go with Narumi. Please don't. He wouldn't know romance if it shit in his lap. He doesn't know how to treat a woman."

You smirked. "And you do?"

He looked at you properly for the first time that night, his gaze locked on yours with a sudden sense of determination. "Yes, I do. If that woman is you. I know everything about you. I have to. Knowing you is the second greatest pleasure of my life."

"And..." The words caught in your throat, "And what's the first?"

"Loving you."

Your heart soared in your chest. "I love you too."

"So will you be my date to the dance? And the rest of my life?"

You kissed him in response.

Suddenly the cold faded from your bodies, the frigid air rescinding itself from your lungs, as your warmth intermingled in a display of passion.

"So, what should I call this, checkmate?" You teased him as you pulled away from his lips, leaving him wanting more.

He rolled his eyes but nothing could make him less smitten than he was right now. "I call this me throwing the match."

"Well, better late than never, baby."

You kissed him again.

And then the both of you danced the rest of the night into oblivion together.

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #anime #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina #oneshot #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #anime fanfic #fluff #han's library

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ilikekidsshows · 1 month ago

Note

Whats with Marinette stans get so defensive and say the opposite of what cause and effect with consequences of her actions

Like I'll see someone say "Adrian should break up with Marinette after he knows the truth" and a Marinette stan would say "she's already feeling guilty why can't that be enough for you people? She'll loss her memories and give up Guardianship isn't that enough 🤬" like that opposite of consequences for her actions I really don't get these fans

like Adrian has right to break up with his gf (I'm still surprised they're together in the first place it generally makes no sense to me they won't last a year)

---

We’re just cruel and heartless for not considering Marinette's regret and her making herself upset as enough of a consequence for all of her actions. She suffers! She cries and throws up! She calls herself the worst ever and a villain! Clearly that means she's paid her penance like a good little Christian and anything more would just be punishing her needlessly.

No, but, I actually can't stress this enough that, against common ideas, a lot of offshoots of the Christian faith judge a person's morality not on their ability to be flawless and not sin but their ability to feel remorse and repent after having sinned. This, on its own, sounds like a good, nuanced take on morality because no human is flawless and incapable of hurting someone even a bit. However, in some variants of Christianity, “repentance” literally just means suffering in some way because you're not morally pure, and that suffering will make you morally pure. The most extreme version of this ideology is whipping yourself with a scourge called a discipline in literal self-flagellation.

Basically, a lot of cultures hold up a belief that you can pay for your misdeeds by suffering and that suffering means you’ve either done something to deserve it or are gathering good morality to get a stroke of good luck down the line. Most people are surprised when they learn you can get a chronic illness or become disabled without doing anything wrong, you're just born with a gene that leads to it. The crime, suffering and reward don't even have to directly correlate because this belief also includes a belief in some kind of cosmic scale that will measure out retribution and rewards accordingly.

“What does this have to do with Miraculous and Marinette?” you may ask and I’ll say that a lot of western media is culturally Christian, even as it doesn't preach Christianity to the viewer. This means a piece of media will model its morality on Christian concepts or will depict Christian holidays. Miraculous has two Christmas-themed episodes that revolve around Santa Claus, one of the most Christian things there is without going into actual doctrine. So, Miraculous the show can also maintain other kinds of culturally Christian ideas. The show itself treats Marinette making herself suffer as suitable penance for her actions. She is always instantly forgiven or vindicated when she verbally flagellates herself.

I can't know for sure that the Miraculous writers are Christian, but it's likely, and France, at least, is culturally Christian. Similarly, a lot of fans online are, at least, culturally Christian. This feeds into the discourse of what can be considered “just” consequences for Marinette. Those who think her feeling bad, her guilt and suffering, is enough of a consequence will see any take about how the other characters should reasonably react or how they should look after themselves, even if it means going against Marinette's wishes, as us wishing for Marinette to be punished, for the other characters to take revenge. To the people who think Marinette making herself feel bad means she has repented, Adrien breaking up with her to keep himself safe would be cruel, punishing her for a crime she already paid for with her tears of remorse.

The thing about actual relationships instead of mere ideology, however, is that Marinette feeling guilty doesn't help any of the people she's hurt, because that guilt will not stop her from doing it more. She's in absolute agony over her guilt for gaslighting Adrien, but she's still doing it, and will probably do it for the whole season at least. That doesn't help Adrien, who is being actively victimized at this very moment. It doesn't help the fact that he provably can't trust Marinette. Marinette feeling guilty doesn't fix that, because feeling guilty alone can't fix anything.

Taking accountability doesn't mean just feeling guilty or doing some penance. It means securing the safety and comfort of your victims, keeping them from further harm, not assuring yourself and others that you're still a good person because you feel bad enough for your moral failures. There is a reason “catholic guilt” isn’t used in a very complementary manner, because it doesn’t actually accomplish anything good by itself. The perpetrator feeling bad doesn’t do anything for their victims and no one who feels themselves irredeemable is going to try to improve.

#ml critical #ml salt #dats chats

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voidcat · 3 months ago

Text

synopsis: having partially dyed hair is more than just a mere, fun fashion statement in division one– a fact you forgot about until it’s about too late

characters: Narumi Gen, gn!reader (working at jakdf, unspecified but implied to be closely related to Narumi) (their relationship with one another left up to readers’ speculation^^)

notes: hi it’s 1am this was supposed to be shorter uh anyway… inspired by real life events of dying my hair first and noticing hours later I now match w nrm… hate him sm can u believe (<- lies)

When you find yourself on the steps of the base, freshly returned from a much needed leave-- much to your initial dismay, you find that it is as you've left.

Unsure if that's a good thing or bad.

Sure, for the never ending chaos of Division One, it's ultimately a blessing that things are exactly as last you've seen. It means during your absance nobody has gotten hurt, or died- yet. But from the looks of it, it seems nothing has exploded either, so you sigh, readjust your jacket and walk the same path you've always done for countless days and countless nights.

Making a mental note to show your gratitude to Vice Captain Hasegawa for taking... maybe a little extreme measures to send you off to a leave, you greet those you pass with a nod, and occasioanally a hum. Pleased to see everyone with a smile, and maybe surprise as well.

Had they gotten too used to your absance already? Or do you seem visibly different after a proper week's rest.

Listening to the clanking sounds of your heels echoing, you take out your phone to text the platoon leaders and your colleagues a message. A perk of having visited family means you were overfed during the visit. Another one is returning to your home with too much food for even an army. Better to make sure everyone has their fill until the last breath than for it to go spoiled- a sudden giggle from the back distracts your train of thoughts.

When you look back, you spot two in officer uniforms who immediately flee. Odd, but nothing out of the ordinary when you work under the same roof as a certain game obsessed, lazy and clingy mess of a Captain.

Greetings here and there, with formalities and pleasantries, "Long time, no see!", "Looking good, doc!"... the words pour, making you turn your lip. Had you truly looked like a caricature of a workaholic? Or had you really took that little care of yourself as of lately?

The thoughts upset you but you try to push them away. Now that you're few steps away from the main hall, you cannot help but muse about a potential entrance. Maybe something fun? Or serious? You could keep it simple and warm but-- Stop!

Stomping your foot at the same time as that command puts your brain on a pause, you take a deep breath in, and out. Hand shooting up to tuck a strand behind your ear, you push the door open and walk in with a small smile.

"Good morning!.. Did you-"

The words die on your throat in a sudden. Not for the amount of heads turned your way- no, that's a given any time of the day at Division One, but at one particular Captain Narumi Gen looking at you with eyes wide as the moon and his mouth stretched into a smile- grinning from ear to ear like a kid who took a peak at his present way before the unboxing...

A cold bucket of water washes over you as you slowly put two and two together. The comments, the surprised looks, the giggle you caught from an officer, all the platoon officiers with their profile pictures all of which sharing a certain pattern-- hell, you just touched your hair yourself, its usual texture slightly changed for the past week already.

Too caught up in the short moment of peace and serenity, you forgot you dyed the lower half of your hair.– A gesture typically done in Division One to show solidarity, closeness, and one might even say "fondness", to the one and only, bane of your existence, who is walking up to you as you say these in your mind: Narumi Gen himself.

His first move is to throw an arm around your shoulder, which you try and dodge, though he follows with a second attempt- predicting your reactions by now, and succeeding in the act.

Secondly, he tilts his head towards yours, you can feel his body warmth seeping through just from the minimal contact. Between being caught up in your frenzy frozen state and your body instinctually wishing to lean into it; you have to make conscious effort to remain your footing but still maintain a state of fluidity to you.

And thirdly, he cooes at you in a sing song way. Making sure to drag every syllable like a knife twisting inside the wound. “Aaaww… Missed me that much already?”

You don’t need to glance at him to know he is glowing, barely containing himself with giddiness and happiness. You can practically feel it.

You try not to think about the implications of this notion either.

Enough time passes that you gather yourself enough to move and talk without disrupting your composure, you try to break away from his hold, only for Narumi to tighten it and press you to his side.

“W-ell, Captain-“ you ignore him making a sobbing sound at the use of his title, “If you’ll excuse me,” from the corner of your eye, you watch as his other hand goes up to his chin, faking a hum in thought.

“I’d like to catch up on work I’ve missed during the course of—“ “Hm… I think I will not.”

“Tha- What?!” The practiced pleasantry reserved for moments before dozens sets of eyes cut short when you register his words.

Meanwhile Narumi opts to ignore your stiffness and makes a turn in his spot, slowly dragging you with him whether you oblige or not.

“Well, you did ask to be excused and that’s my answer.” All you can muster is breathing through your nose at his words. It’s been, what? Fifteen minutes since you’ve returned? And you feel your patience already put on a trial.

“Simple, no?” He sounds unbothered by the whole thing, ignoring everyone watching the scene before them in suspense. You think, in fear, that if it weren’t for this many people in the room now, he’d pick you up like one of his big sized yamazon order boxes instead of dragging you like a statue.

Your shudder at the thought only makes it worse. Feeling the absence of a certain presence during your week off was one thing you did not want to admit- less so to the subject in question- no you’d rather die than to admit it to his face, it’d save your poor dignity at the very least. However, you didn’t think you’d be cornered on such short notice. Clearly, you’ve underestimated just how easy and big of an effect he holds over you, and your poor nerves.

As your brain is busy rushing between thoughts, you don’t notice that Narumi has dragged you all the way to the door by now. The sudden sound of the door shutting startles you and he slips his arm into yours in this moment of weakness.

“How about we have a share a little breakfast and some quality time first,” he speaks softly, nonchalant as ever, but keeping his voice down for only the two of you.

You know it’s less about the secrecy and more to have some things for just the two of you, something you didn’t think you’d see in him nor appreciate greatly.

You can feel his breath on your ear, again with his warmth spreading all over your body from the close proximity. “Then you can return to whatever work you wish to do. Sounds good?” He concludes his offer but you know it’s not a question. It’s not up to debate and you don’t really get a say in the matter.

Even if you did, you doubt you’d refuse- another thing you’d rather he never finds out, nor hears from you like a secret confessed.

And he does have another point, though unspoken. All your other work falls secondary so long as Captain Narumi Gen lives and breaths, your primary work and responsibility- one, though tricky to handle, is worth the effort made- now with matching hair and everything.

With a sigh, you drop your head in defeat and tighten your now interlocked arms, letting him take the lead with a jump to his steps, mouth curling at the thought that you’ve jumped right back onto the familiar pace. Good to be home.

#THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHORTER #umm anyways good night I did kiiiinda tried writing in a slightly different tone can y tell. Hope it worked #narumi gen #kaiju no. 8 #Narumi x reader #Narumi x you #kn8 x reader #kn8 x you #narumi gen x reader

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yuri-is-online · 2 years ago

Text

The Tower Stairs: Rollo Flamme

"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City." The words should not be bouncing around in your brain like a screensaver, hitting on the edges left by overblot after overblot. You wish Vil was here to remind you that not everyone who hurt you had been so callous in the aftermath.

But he's not. The only one here who is willing to point out the wrongs is Rollo. Are you wrong for being tempted to let him take advantage of that?

notes: This is fucking 10,225 words and only lightly proofread, sorry. they/them used for Yuu, SPOILERS FOR ALL OF GLORIOUS MASQUERADE, light references to events surrounding overblots, non-consensual drugging and possible Stockholm syndrome, Yuu feels isolated and Rollo has an idea just hear him out. Lots of toxicity all around please be advised This is technically part of a series, the first part features Azul. If you like those consider checking out my masterlist.

Two sentences.

Two students will be sent as attendants to the invited mages. One monster and one magicless human, approximate measurements attached per your request.

Two sentences barely acknowledging your existence and that was it; the foolish mage in charge of Night Raven hadn't even thought to include a name or photograph (the monster got the same treatment but he could not really bring himself to care as much about that) and he hadn't even made notes about food preferences or allergies. The attached note was a post-it scrawled in the most haphazard and uncaring handwriting that he needs to take a brief moment to breathe, turning away from his desk to throw another log on the fire and breath in the soothing scent of the smoke. He doesn't even know what their favorite color is, those poor fools will have to make a guess while they obsess over what costume to throw at them.

Costume. His eyebrows twitch as he brings the handkerchief to his nose, the smoke no longer enough to distract from his disgust. Breathe in, the gentle aroma of rosemary and lavender brings clarity though solace remains tentatively hanging in the bell tower along with all of his hopes, breathe out. He dares not risk ruining the foolish surprise by asking, but he makes sure to take a nice sheet of paper and properly write out the notes on their measurements neatly, tacking it to the top of the stack where it belongs. This festival was always meant to be for the virtuous, and while he may not know them, what he has seen of the others guarantee them to be the best of the lot. The bell dutifully rings out the evening toll and Rollo takes one last look at those two sentences. He pities you; that's the explanation he reaches for the pain searing in his chest.

~~~~

Halloween feels more like Christmas with how big of a deal all your friends are making of it, and you really lack the words to explain how strange that makes you feel. It's not a bad sort of strange you suppose as you twirl a little of the thickly embroidered fabric in between your fingers. Festivities bring good food, an excuse to avoid classwork, and a way to guise showing affection under holiday obligation; it's just a bit odd to see it cloaked in orange, blacks, and pumpkin carvings and not pine needles and nutmeg. But all of these thoughts are irrelevant, meant to try and distract you from the waiting crowd outside and the social you've been pawned off on. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on how excited Grim sounds and how cute you know he will look to avoid the terror of being seen.

"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."

Your eyes meet Rollo’s before you shamefully turn to your friends, disappointment flashing through you with just how impassive his gaze remains despite the beauty of the costume. It’s just a stupid “crush” on a guy who if you in your right mind you would insist looked ugly. A real choice example of “guy you didn’t know magic could invent,” 18 going on 80, someone who if you had admitted out loud to wanting to get to know better as a friend you would be judged heavily for. And if you are being honest with yourself it isn’t even really a crush, it’s just your stupid brain firing off a bunch of dopamine at someone offering you a genuine break and some sympathy for the troubles he assumed you’d been through. Vil remembered. The tiny, tired voice of reason tried to do its job at the back of your skull. It is probably very dark and lonely back there. Maybe guys from the Shaftlands are just built different. Even it was overworked and making concessions.

“It looks like you are wearing matching outfits.” Deuce’s kind smile brings you out of your head and back to reality.

“You look like you’re matching with Riddle!” You say and smile wide when both Deuce and Riddle puff up in pride.

“We both look like proper card soldiers,” Riddle actually bows to the Vice-President, who looks really happy to receive the praise “you must have really put a lot of thought into these.”

“Glad you noticed!” You see Rollo pull out that strange handkerchief and inhale as his Vice-President happily chirps away. “Since your Headmage noted your dormitories we tried to include inspiration from the Great Seven in the costume themes! The costumes are supposed to respect tradition, and your school has some too, we figured ‘why not combine them?’”

“Where’d mine come from then?” Grim doesn’t seem too fussed even though he asks, he must really like his outfit. “Yuu and I are the only ones who care about our dorm.”

“Yes the… note provided for you was most inadequate.” Rollo is technically addressing the crowd, but his gaze remains firmly on you. His eyes are beautiful, green and blue swirling in what you delusionally swear is a gentle dark gray frame that will dull and snap back to firm disinterest once he returns to your seniors. “As such I suggested the capes but these two came up with the rest.”

“We went with purple and black since those are both NRC and NBC colors.” The VP gives you what should be a confident thumbs up that you barely pay attention to, still caught up in the intensity of Rollo’s gaze.

“Thank you.” You barely manage to break away from it and miss the way Rollo seems to somehow stand taller, even if he does not say-

“You’re welcome!” The vice-president and aide continue to glow with everyone’s praise. “We really hoped you would like them.”

You can barely hear their words over your focus on him. If he feels the weight of your gaze he doesn't flinch, nor does he acknowledge it, leaving Trein’s voice to cut through your stupor, startling you with an expectation of disappointment or trouble. But it isn’t there, he simply seems concerned, and thankfully not with you. You cannot say the same of your classmates, but then again you had also forgotten the headache you got listening to them argue over their fieldwork group names. Seriously, how old were Azul and Idia again? And you aren’t going to think about Malleus right now, the ibuprofen Trey had helped you pack was with your luggage not the pockets of your costume.

“What will Yuu be doing?” Rollo is as impassive as ever, but he once again looks at you as he asks, as if he expects you to be a part of the conversation. How cute.

“Yuu and Grim will be with me.” Trein turns to scold your friends and though you expect Rollo to follow, or maybe excuse himself to his duties he does not.

“Are you alright with this arrangement?” He asks.

“Oh we discussed it before we got here.” You rush to pacify, which startles Rollo more than soothes him. “As long as Grim gets to eat a bunch of stuff we’ll be fine.” If anything it will probably keep him distracted from causing trouble to keep bouncing back and forth between the groups, but you don’t say that outloud.

“Yeah!” Grim cheers, excited by the mention of his name if nothing else. “This place has got all sorts of great food right?! Riddle was tellin me all about it.” Rollo seems displeased, the handkerchief comes out from his pocket but he doesn’t hold it up to his face yet, choosing instead to focus on your eyes.

“I wasn’t asking about Grim.” Your little friend begins to make noises of protest, but they quiet as he looks back and forth between you both. But if Rollo has more to say he is forced to keep it to himself.

“Human!” Sebek’s shout demands your attention and you see Rollo finally lift his arm to take the deepest breath yet into his handkerchief. “You had better not plan on keeping Lord Malleus waiting! Have you already forgotten he specifically requested you accompany his group?!?!” You haven’t, but you know Sebek won’t hear that.

“Sorry, duty calls!” You give your best elegant bow and are rewarded with a genuine smile.

“Yes, for both of us.” He watches, with a strange look in his eyes as you flicker out of his view like a wisp of smoke.

~~~~ “I was worried when Sebek started arguing and insisting that he join Malleus’s group… But honestly, I’m glad he has a proper guard.” Jamil does seem significantly less stressed than he usually does, which in turn relaxes you.

“Of course, Malleus’s safety will always be my first priority!” Sebek is all smiles and pride as the conversation continues towards what direction to start your tour, you find your mind wanting to join in the conversation but finding yourself unable to really contribute. Grim is similarly distressed.

“I thought this was Group 1,” he wisely chooses to whine to you and not Trien, “not Group BORING.”

“We’ve got to respect their wishes.” You say, wishing only slightly he wasn’t wearing such a dapper hat. You miss scratching his ears. “Besides, historic spots make for great tourist destinations. You are worried you won’t get any food, right? I won’t let that happen.”

“Most of the places I know of aren’t on tourist maps.” Trien corrects gently, but his small smile lets you know he does not mean to come off as reprimanding. “But Yuu is correct, Grim, there will be plenty of places to feed you as we check on the other groups.”

“Well then what are we waitin’ around for! Let’s get cracking!” Grim’s little shout and face is so deathly serious you can’t help but snap a brief picture on your phone, as you walk slowly between Riddle and Jamil.

“So,” a relaxed Jamil might be a rare sight, but this teasing look is not “what did President Rollo want to talk to our little attendant about?”

“I was wondering that as well.” Riddle asks much more earnestly, which gets the squirming reaction from you Jamil had been trying to provoke. “He wasn’t being rude was he? An insult to one NRC student is a slight to our whole school.”

“Oh I’m sure he was very personal.” Laughs Jamil and you try to pass off your embarrassment with a cough.

“He just wanted to know what group Grim and I were going with.” It has got to be enough of the truth to get Jamil to drop it, but as you turn yourself back towards Trien you are surprised to find him smirking.

“Yes, Mr. Flamm was very concerned with knowing your whereabouts.” He has the decency to shoot Jamil a stern glance when he cackles, but the teasing point has still been made. You have been seen (for once, the tiny voice argues, when there is something to use against you.) Thankfully Malleus and Riddle still seem blissfully unaware of what is being implied, if anything Malleus seems deeply pleased at the mention of Rollo.

“I’m glad he was willing to invite us both.” It is hard to ignore the puff to his chest that comes with the word invitation, your tired inner voice retreats replaced with a genuine smile.

“Me too, Tsunotarou. It’s nice to be able to take a vacation.” You should be concerned that Trien has led you into what appears to be a sewer alley, but the soothing melody of the river to your left drowns out all worries and Sebek’s misery at being the sole mage to have done zero research. Well maybe not the sole mage, just the only one without a collar.

“Hey Yuu,” Grim whispers, “did ya think at all about what Rollo said earlier?”

“About relaxing?” Please, don’t let Grim get in on teasing you too. You don’t want to live in a world where he is more socially conscious than Riddle.

“No! Well kinda. I mean about what ya wanted to do.” Grim does occasionally have serious thoughts. “N-not that I really care or anythin, just y’know.” Not that he ever outright admits to thinking them. This one has him so embarrassed he starts yelling at Sebek to give up on thinking before he can hear your answer, giving you time to actually think on one.

It is a relatively easy answer, the same you always have whenever you get the opportunity to leave campus. You want to look for a way home, but how exactly do you go about doing that? Maybe Rollo would know this water sort of reminds you of his eyes, tired, he looks so tired but when he was able to talk to you he seemed to relax and now you hate yourself even more than you had earlier. You force yourself to stand up at a normal pace and rejoin the conversation, as if the painful spike of emotion that a new crush brings isn’t actively wrecking your heartbeat.

~~~~

Yuu. The name of the student attendant is Yuu, Rollo was already making amendments to the lines as soon as he confirmed that, but your conversation began to muddle his own corrections with unnecessary feeling. He doesn’t understand it, the strange pull he is feeling towards you; Rollo assumed at first was fanned by his hatred of those awful mages, the inherent desire to soothe you all feels justified but no… he knows that feeling, or at least he thinks he does. He feels it every time he sees a magicless citizen of his city think about just how much better their life could be, but that emotion has grown dull, this desire burns him. Even now as he tries desperately with fragrant herbs and the gentle lull of the river the intoxicating glow of relief in their eyes blazes in his soul.

"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."

It was generic, there was so much more he should have said. But what could he offer you? You're not a mage, you have every right to be wary of him. To refuse his help would be understandable.

“And I hope the rest of you will enjoy the social.”

The thought of the social finally succeeds in sobering him, he runs though his plans once more in his head as he sees the outline of one of those detestable NRC clowns looking over the various bakeries, clearly inept at choosing where to go. And once again those thoughts flicker briefly back to you, not that Rollo trusts mages to do anything other than pursue their own interests, but he had hoped somewhat foolishly when he had read the word “attendant” that some care would be taken for your preferences and safety. But clearly he was mistaken, and how he loathes the thought of his plans being anything less than perfect. The handkerchief goes back into his pocket and his hand brushes up against a tiny bottle. Dreamer’s Rest such a mundane name for a poison. It is, no it was meant to be a precaution, but now, as he idly holds the crystal bottle up to the sunlight, a new thought takes shape in his mind. It is magic, something he despises and believes should not exist, but if he could convince you to drink it…

Quickly he shoves the thought and the bottle back into his robes, forcing himself towards Ashengrotto’s group hoping the new temptations will disappear.

They do not, as amusing the thought of them purchasing souvenirs is.

“What’s so surprising about that?” The look on Azul’s face as he speaks does suggest offense, but that he has cause to be at all sharpens Rollo’s resolve. “That’s generally what you do with gifts, yes. What do you two take me for?” Exactly what he wants them too, Rollo supposes seeing how quickly Deuce and Epel jump to praise him and completely miss Azul’s muttered expectation of compensation. The three continue to speak of utterly irrelevant topics.

“Certainly.” He folds his hands and takes the first opportunity to excuse himself. Azul is a merchant and these two are dumb as rocks, he has nothing to worry about here. “I’ll take my leave then-”

“Oh before you go!” Deuce has an infuriatingly cheerful smile on his face for someone who has just interrupted him. “I wanted to thank you. For including Yuu I mean.” Azul pushes his glasses up onto his face, curious, it would appear his reactions are being watched, but that this sentiment from Deuce is not unexpected. “I was really worried you Nobel Bell guys would see them as an inconvenience or a burden since it’s supposed to be a mage’s social and all and they aren’t a mage, you have no idea how relieved I was you had costumes for them and Grim. I was really happy they got to come!”

“Yeah!” Epel’s smile could be described as cute if he wasn’t such a talented mage. “We’re going to have so much fun at the social together, I can’t wait.”

“Of course.” Rollo smiles in spite of himself, if he was less focused on making his exit he would have realized he had been since the first mention of Yuu’s name. “I will continue to ensure they… are allowed to relax while here.” How disappointing, Rollo thinks, that these mages see inclusion of their supposed friend to be a point in his favor. It’s almost enough to make him laugh, but then he swears he sees your face before him, eyes agleam with wonder and suddenly words lose all meaning. The handkerchief comes out as he makes his way back to his tasks, the sooner they are done the more of an excuse he can make to see you again. “Now if you all will excuse me, I have to get back to checking on the other groups.” It wouldn't do to keep his flowers waiting after all.

Azul frowns deeply for just one moment. “Are you sure you should be thanking him?” His face returns to stoic calculation, but he still asks.

“Why?” Deuce is so genuinely confused it really does make Azul hurt for Riddle.

“... no reason.” Yet anyway.”

~~~~

For a creature so gluttonous Grim sure does love to play with his food, it would be cute to watch him catch grapes in his mouth if you weren’t walking through such a busy intersection looking for Azul’s group. “You need to be more careful.” You fuss, taking advantage of Trien’s pause to check his maps to gently poke Grim’s nose. He sneezes.

“Ya don’t have ta worry so much,” he huffs as if he isn’t pleased with the attention “the Great Grim isn’t able to choke.”

“Heh your friend doesn’t seem to think so.” Rollo’s laugh is as smug as it is startling, you swear you jump halfway out of your skin. He moves to follow you, a noise of startled surprise sending pinpricks up your arms in delight.

“Rollo! Sorry I didn’t see you.” Great now he has to think you’re stupid, of course you didn’t see him Yuu! He clearly just got here! “Is everything ok? No one causing you any trouble?” You have to bite your tongue not to add from my school because who else would be doing that.

“Nothing’s happened you need to worry over.” Rollo folds his hands, those water grey eyes ripple with emotion reminding you of your reflections at the riverside earlier. " I simply saw you and decided to come over and see how your tour was progressing so far.”

“It’s goin great!” Grim hugs his bunch of grapes close to his chest. “Yuu’s been gettin me all sorts of yummy grub.”

“... it is heartwarming to see how caring Yuu is towards you.” His smile suggests genuine amusement, and your heart warms with pride. “But I am curious, have you gotten to do everything you wanted to? Is there still something you wish to see?” Rollo says it so passively, as if it wasn't a natural question to ask. It is, you suppose, a natural question if

“I’m sorry?” Rollo’s eyes haven’t once left yours, there is no mistaking he intended to speak directly to you and yet…

“This is an experience for you too, yes?” Rollo looks sad you think, but you try to remind your rapidly increasing heart rate that you have only just met so you have no idea if that is true. “I have some time before I am needed, if your Professor allows it-”

“Of course I will.” Trien’s voice causes you both to jump, free from whatever strange aura you constantly find in each other’s presence. There is a strange glint in his eyes, almost nostalgic as he takes Grim from your arms and nods towards Rollo. “There are a few places I can think of that might be of interest to Yuu specifically, but I’m sure you will be much more up to date with what’s practical.” You expect him to wait, to confirm just where it is Rollo wants to take you off to but no. If anything he practically skips away from you with pep that you swear should strain his back.

“I’m so sorry he just left like that.” You say quietly, and to your surprise Rollo laughs. The stern look that had been so fixed into your mind since this morning is kinder now, he actually looks like a young man now, the aura of nobility around him seeming to come more from some hidden self confidence you suppose all mages have tucked somewhere.

“There’s no need, I’m sure it would have been much more embarrassing if he stayed.” Rollo says it so matter of factly you almost believe him. “So just what was it you wanted to see?”

“Is there a place where-” you eagerly start before flustering with the weight of trying to explain what exactly it is you are looking for. “Why” will be even harder, emotionally if nothing else. “Is there any place I could do some research I guess? Like on really obscure myths and history.” It was clearly not the question Rollo was expecting, but he does have an answer ready.

“There is a book store I am fond of across from the main school building, assuming you don’t mind walking back that way?”

“Not at all.” You remain trapped in your strange silence, though Rollo does not quite seem to mind. He easily begins to guide you back towards the school, the tension you had previously associated with him never once returning to his face.

“Do you enjoy reading about mythology?” He asks as soon as the crowd thins a little.

“Yes.” Your answer is quieter than he’d like, as if you are questioning the sincerity of your own interests. “You can tell a lot about what people value by looking at the stories they tell and besides… I just like stories.”

“What sort?” The question isn’t sharp, so you silently curse yourself for jumping. “I apologize if I am coming off as needling you, that wasn't my intention. As the president of a magic school’s student council I seldom get a chance to speak with… the more sincere members of society. I am curious about your perspective, you could say I find it important.”

“Why?” You don’t mean to scoff, but Rollo doesn’t seem phased. If anything he seems oddly pleased.

“Do you think yourself unimportant?” The stern look he gives is far less severe than what had been aimed at your classmates, but is still disarming. “I meant what I said before. I understand if you find it tiring to be around me as well, but I promise you need only to speak if I am exhausting you.”

“No!” His pleased smile grows as you try desperately to center your thoughts. “You haven’t been exhausting me at all, I just- wasn’t expecting the question.” Rollo’s contented laugh sears you right to your soul, so beautiful and strong and so clearly meant only for you to hear. You are spared further embarrassing thoughts as you finally reach your destination and he reaches for the shop’s door.

“After you, Yuu.” Bless the shop bell for ringing you back to reality, and the smell of old books finally luring you away from Rollo’s grasp.

~~~~

There is a peaceful, eager joy about your expression that Rollo tries desperately to write into his memory. This is how you should look all the time, unburdened by the weariness existing next to magic and mages that undoubtedly piles on you. His relief flickers slightly as he wonders, unpleasantly, just what it is you think of him and his faults. Is he truly responsible for your joy now? And if he is… just what does he need to do to keep it? He is suddenly heavily aware of the bottle in his pocket, and Grim’s words from earlier begin to suggest an ill formed plan that drives him to speak.

“Have you had anything to eat yet?” he whispers in spite of himself, but you do not seem displeased with his interruption.

“Idia bought me some grape juice, but other than that not really.” And yet you have been feeding your companion like some sort of saint.

“There’s a small cafe attached to this store…” There is no going back if he says this, there are a million things that should be at the front of his mind but the only thing he can bring himself to worry over is what you will think of him once it is done. “Would you like something from it?” You pause scanning the book you are holding and reach towards your pocket, but he catches your hand as gently as he can before pulling back worried he has overstepped. “I’ll pay for it, please don’t worry yourself.”

“I can’t ask you to do that!” So you squeak but your stomach seems to disagree with the strange noise it makes.

“Then don’t.” He cannot help but smile as he says it. Cute. He thinks that is the word he wants to use. You have his entire attention. “Just tell me what you would like.” He half expects you to continue denying yourself, but no. You murmur a bashful request, and he promises to meet you at the front of the store once he has gotten you something. He almost believes in his own good intentions until his hand touches the bottle in his pocket as he tries to think. This… impulse is not his fault. You will be in danger if he does not act, he needs to find a way to keep you safe from the downfall of those mages who surround you.

There is a selection of fruit and cheese that catches his eye, there is a small dish of honey meant to be paired with some apples. Dreamer’s Rest has no taste, just one bite from any of these would grant you the relaxation you deserved. This is a conscious decision he is making, if he commits there will be no way to take it back. He can beg you to see his reason, but would you listen? It’s insidious how little visible effect magic leaves on something, nothing looks different or dangerous, the food he is holding just looks like food.

“Have you ever heard of someone traveling between worlds before?” Rollo should be concerned with how tuned in to your voice he is, how quickly he completes his task and takes himself, with noticeably lighter pockets, back to the front of the store and the tables set next to the front counter.

“Are you sure you don’t mean continents?” The shopkeep seems confused, but Yuu seems strangely determined. Desperate even.

“No, worlds. Like different realities or dimensions.” You try again. “Maybe something about liminal spaces?” That just makes them laugh.

“Oh no, if you’re interested in those sorts of things you’ll need to look at the science fiction section! Magical travel between different ‘worlds’ is so utterly preposterous, I’m sure Monsieur Rollo will be able to explain to you why.” You look devastated, as if what has been said is a personal slight. He lacks the ability to describe just what it is he is feeling now, there is a wariness to how he looks over you he doesn’t like. There is no reason to doubt your virtue, you have no magic. So why then,would you be so interested in what would undoubtedly be such a career defining feat for any mage, why act distraught as if you are so intimately acquainted with the subject? You cannot look at him as he gently guides you to the table, can’t speak even. It is as if the dismissal has robbed you of your appetite.

“Technically speaking if we had proof another reality existed,” he takes care to breathe in the comforting scents of his kerchief, watching you for any sign of motive “it would not be a matter of science fiction. As we lack that, however, most statistical models make such a thing out to be quite impossible. Teleportation magics such as the Dark Mirror at Night Raven possess are already quite rare and subject to stringent regulation, it stands to reason the ability to travel across reality would be much more rare.”

“I see.” You are quiet, yet unflinching under his scrutiny in a way that makes him want to scream. There is no reason for you to be so resigned to him, it should be the other way around. He should be afraid of your judgment, your wrath, not your rejection as you pick idly at the fruits. “You must think I’m very silly.” You whisper.

“I think you are not telling me something.” He whispers as well, trying to sound sincere and sympathetic. “That your friends and teachers did not tell me something.” His body moves of its own accord, he stands and places his hands on your shoulders in what he hopes is a gentle manner; you look up to him with a strangely hopeful expression. It is as if you see him as some source of light, unaware of its hellish source. “My judgment is fair, so please, unburden yourself while you are here.” While you can be safe in his arms.

“If I said,” your voice quivers “if I said I did have proof of a different reality. One where magic didn’t exist.” He inhales sharply, a new scent worming itself among his affirmations alongside the resurgence of the pain from when he first read those two accursed lines. “If I was somehow taken from such a place, and wanted to find a way back, would you believe me?”

“Yes.” There is disbelief in your eyes, but really how could he reach any other explanation for this grip you have on his soul? The reasoning, as implausible as other scholars would decry it, made a degree of sense. Why else would such a wretched institution like Night Raven allow for someone so pure to exist in their presence, to say nothing of being allowed to attend as a student? The best solution, no matter how improbable, is the simplest one, and what a beautiful solution this admission is.

“I don’t know how I got here really, I just sort of showed up at orientation and the headmage hasn’t done mu- I mean he hasn’t really found any promising leads about how to send me back. That was his excuse for sending me to the social. He thought that since maybe your academy is also really old and has so many traditions that maybe one of you would know how to send me home.” Slowly, so slowly it almost burns, Rollo moves his right hand from your arm to fetch something from his pocket. The large ruby of his ring reflects the dull light of the lamps as he runs just the edge of his handkerchief under your eye, letting his thumb massage the tear towards it. The comforting blend of rosemary and lavender that invades your senses explains why he keeps it so close to his nose, but those are not the scents that soothe you. There is an undercurrent, brought by his sleeves and the way his eyes follow the curve of your cheek and stay unintentionally on your lips, of wood smoke and ink that can’t come from anyone but him, who in their right mind would burn something in a bookstore?

“You can speak poorly of him here.” There is an undercurrent of authority to his voice that should scare you. Rollo has always looked directly at you, that dark gray blue inviting you to bathe in his light has never once thought of you as the other. Perhaps because he is too busy looking at your classmates like they are lesser, a thought that you should perhaps pay more mind. “No one is going to carry what you say back to them, I promise. You poor thing…” It is all you can do to not collapse into his arms and cry. It should be condescending, this way he is looking at you. “It’s cruel to keep you like this.” Who he is speaking to you don’t know, there is an unspoken aura over you both, an aura of agreement that he could be as cruel as he likes. Idly, as if he does not fully understand what he is doing, Rollo removes his hand shakily, returning his handkerchief to his pocket, only breaking eye contact with you to eye the abandoned apple slices on the table next to you. “Are you still hungry?” He is asking you a question, but it’s not the one he’s voiced.

“Yes.” You want him to kiss you, but that doesn’t seem to be what he intends to do. Instead he dips one of the apple slices into the honey and carefully, purposefully lifts it up to your lips. Wordlessly, he places the slice on your tongue and continues to hold it as you bite down, watching as you chew and closing the gap as you swallow.

His kiss burns, searing you with question and confirmation that this strange attraction is as destructive as it is mutual. “I have to take you back now.” He breathes the words close to your lips as you breathe in the smoke of his robes, deeply trying desperately to center yourself.

Your walk back is as quick as it is silent.

~~~~

“Ahh child of man! Good to have you back, come sit with us.” Mallues pats the seat beside him expectantly and you gladly settle, much to the chagrin of Sebek who immediately begins howling in protest. Grim makes similar noises when Azul suggests he sit in yours, but it has much less of an impact when he's voicing them from your lap already. You breathe deeply, looking around at the sights and sounds of what looks to be a carnival. Someone walks on a tightrope, there are acrobats tumbling around on the ground, and the whole thing really sparkles with wonder and excitement that feels like magic even before you see the sparks. It is something that should excite you, but for some reason the more you try to focus on the colors, the more you try to look around the more things begin to blur together. Perhaps it’s all the walking around you did today but you are beginning to feel extremely tired.

“And you are all content with such trivial feats of magic?” Malleus scoffs next to you and you frown deeply, this dance is already impressive. How could this be made better by making it louder? Maybe he is confused because it isn’t like Briar Valley festivals.

“You could totally upgrade those.” Snarks Idia. Never mind, maybe your friends were just dicks. At least you manage to get some revenge on Idia by making him dance a little with you, no matter how sluggish you feel. Though it admittedly feels less like revenge when Idia decides to be a responsible senior and guide you back to your seat. “Are you sure you should be standing up?” He doesn’t even sound like he is asking the question because he wants an excuse to be anti-social, Idia looks genuinely worried.

“I’m ok, promise.” you try to grin and bear your way through it but a quick yell for your attention from Grim and the burst of magical fireworks that follow quickly re-directs what little energy you have left.

“Grim, using magic like that in a public place is a bad idea.” Your scolding is drowned out by other, louder scolds and a spiral into everyone setting off fireworks. The noise and lights pound your skull with painful overstimulation. Cautiously, Rollo moves closer to you, concern clear on his face.

“Are you alright?” He asks, moving to take your temperature and not finding anything wrong, the only heat you feel is running up your spine from a desperate desire for him to be closer. You swear you hear someone, Malleus you think, calling for you to join the festivities, but the strange tiredness working its way through your limbs has reached your ears and is beginning to dull the noise around you. Rollo does not move, he stares down at you intently watching as you dazedly try to stand. “... Magic is such a troublesome thing, wouldn’t you agree Yuu? I can only imagine what you have been subjected to, between being stolen from your world and being surrounded by a gaggle of rambunctious foolhardy mages.” You want to laugh, tell him he doesn’t know the half of it, but your tongue feels like lead in your mouth. “Worry not- this state of affairs shan’t last much longer.” Something about his voice worms its way to the back of your skull, maybe it’s the day’s exercise, maybe it’s the noise and lights overstimulating your brian, but you are finding it harder and harder to keep opening your eyes as you blink and try to focus on what Grim is telling you. He is tugging on your cape and jumping up and down, he has something he wants to say. He is proud of himself, he has that genuine non-smug happy smile Grim reserves only for you when he wants your praise, and you so desperately want to see what it is he wants to show you. But you’re tired, so very very tired. It’s so much effort to keep your eyes open. So you stop struggling, your eyes close and you feel yourself fall, and conveniently (too conveniently Azul notes pushing his glasses against his nose) Rollo is there to catch you. “Yuu!” Grim’s voice finally breaks through the fog, it’s panicked and you feel some worry bubbling up in the sane part of your mind when you realize you can’t move your hand to reassure him you are ok.

Aren’t you tired? Don’t you want to rest? Rest here in the City of Flowers?

“Is the noise bothering you?” Rollo asks quietly, so quietly you wonder if anyone else can hear him other than you. “Would you like to return to the school?”

“That might be for the best.” Trien’s hand is cool against your forehead, his voice filled with concern. “Would you object to taking them back, Rollo?” You feel Rollo bend to reach under your knees and lift you so high you practically feel like you are flying. A smile flutters onto your face; his embrace is one of safety and relaxation, with a tender caress from his thumb along your thigh that reminds you of the kiss from earlier.

“There's no need for that,” Azul tries to attract Idia's attention subtlety “one of us would be more than happy to-”

“That's quite alright.” Rollo doesn't even bother looking at him as he settles you further into his arms, for a brief moment your eyes open and refocus up at your… captor you suppose. You know the sound of Azul’s worries, and though you haven’t known Rollo for near as long you think (delusionally, the tired voice is regaining its reason. This is delusion, madness we are throwing ourselves onto a pyre-) you are beginning to recognize his. There is worry in his gaze, solely focused on you, from the moment you met him he has been considerate and focused on you in a way that should worry you. Trien does not seem to share your faith in Azul, you think based on the way Rollo begins to move away from the crowd towards the blissful quiet that he has decided to place his bet on the wrong mage, just as you are about to.

“I am going to trust you.” You whisper, so slowly you wonder if Rollo even knows what it is you are saying. If he does, he says nothing aloud, but his steps begin to pick up speed.

~~~~

Fire. There is a fire to your left you think, the wood crackles pleasantly and gives this strange dream a cozy feel. Your entire body feels heavy, you can barely open your eyes or move a finger, but you don't seem to be bound to this chair, you can't really seem to motivate yourself to move from it. Someone's head is resting on your lap, their hands are shaking.

“Forgive me.” Rollo is whispering, but there is an excitement to his voice. You realize you have no idea how long you have been sleeping, or even where you are as your eyes open and try to adjust to the dimly lit room around you. The stonework reminds you of the bell tower from your tour of the school, but you don’t remember seeing this room or the grand fireplace you flinch away from. “I’m just another mage causing problems for you at the end of the day, no matter how proud I am of my virtues.”

You manage to lift your head just enough to look down, Rollo’s head is indeed lying in your lap, his giant hat has been placed on the table just next to you, and though there is indeed triumph in his voice the expression on his face is painful. “No matter how hard I try to better myself, I am still a mage. I am still filled with evil and I am still forced to use that evil to pass judgment. I couldn’t even save you without resorting to it. I wonder just how much you would hate me if you knew…” His eyes flutter open, gently, much too gently for someone you are slowly starting to realize likely drugged you and definitely kidnaped you, he kisses the top of your hand. “Can I ask you for your forgiveness? Do I even have the right?” Slowly, with effort such a simple action should not take, you move your hand to his head and carefully run your nails over his scalp. Rollo groans, eyes raising to meet your bleary ones.

“If I can forgive you for this…” putting you to sleep, taking you away from your friends, Rollo did not strike you as someone who did this without there being another reason, Azul had earlier described him as naive and you are inclined to trust his judgment. “Can you accept it?” Rollo closes his eyes briefly, considering his options.

“If I were to tell you there was a way for magic to no longer be an obstacle…” He says it with such certainty you do not doubt him for a second “that I could free this world of that sickness that elevates people undeserving and unnecessarily, would you forgive me for the pain it would cause?”

“Do you see yourself as sick, Rollo?” You move your hand just under his chin, gently directing his head back up to look at you. Rollo grasps your hand as you do, rising from the floor as he places it just above his frantically beating heart.

“Don’t you?” There is pain in his eyes. Pain and sorrow just like every friend you have seen overblot except without the touch of inky madness that precedes it. “Or am I just like your friends at that school?”

“You aren’t like them.” It’s a lie of sorts, whatever Rollo has done, you strongly suspect, is no worse or better than anything the others have. But- “Why do you care about me so much?” You ask, voice cracking under the strain of your confusion. Rollo tightens his grip on your hand, his heart is hammering against it as if it wants to burst out of his ribcage and intertwine itself with your hand. But it cannot, so it satisfies itself with Rollo dipping forward to kiss your lips. Softly once, gently twice he kisses, before all pretense is lost and he moves in tune with you to hold onto your cape desperately and kiss and kiss and kiss deeply before he needs to come up for air. He dares not move fully away, taking his breaths just above your lips and slowly continuing to kiss along your jaw and just below murmuring his words as prayers indescribable as he does.

“I don’t know why.” Rollo groans in self hatred as you let out a tortured cry “Ever since I saw you I’ve been unable to remove you from my thoughts, my mind burns with flaming desire to throw away my plans,” he bites, his teeth sink slowly as you grasp at his robes and gasp “to get to know you. What makes you happy, the things that make you laugh and what makes you cry. I want to know that I can create a place where someone as lovely and filled with light as you does not feel the need to be anything more than themselves. Where, when there is danger, you are protected.” This too, this mad man who proudly sucks just one more mark onto your skin, is your Rollo, your Rollo who is so clearly going through something he will not confess to you and lashing out at the world like every other mage you know and yet…and yet he is saying the things you want to hear. The things you have longed for any other person to say to you as he rests his forehead against yours, lips bruised by yours and yet still not defiled near enough.

“When magic causes problems, the fallout should not be yours to take.” And just like that, you don’t care. Not nearly as much as you should, you should be hitting him not letting him admire his work as you fall back into a chair he didn’t need to bind you to, and certainly not thinking of how much you wish he had. You should hold him to the same standard you had the others. “I’ll come back for you.” It should frighten you, how quick he is to return to the stoic calm you had met him in as he promises you something awful. “There are things I need to attend to at the top of the tower, but I swear I will come back to you.” You don’t have to think hard about who those will be, Malleus’s angry shouts of betrayal at the (likely) false invitation aren’t hard to imagine, hopefully he hasn’t hurt anyone.

“Stay safe.” You hoarsely whisper, and Rollo briefly pauses in his walk to the door. Whatever he is thinking you aren’t left wondering long, quickly with a speed you didn’t know he had he darts back to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You too, Yuu.” He says your name with something like love once he returns to the door, his smile shines with it. It’s not his fault that you want it to be, is it his fault that you doubt him? If it is not love Rollo feels then what is it? Just obsession or-

“AHA!” A familiar voice knocks you out of your thoughts and onto the floor. “FINALLY I FOUND YA!”

~~~~

“It would seem I have made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment.” Trien’s understatement should fall flat, but Deuce is too busy bouncing his leg to try and dispel his stress. “I was too focused on trying to make sure you all were not causing trouble, I neglected to consider outside influences.” There is no need to guess what he is referring to, there is a noticeable absence among the collected NRC students. “Are you sure you should be thanking him?” As if Azul can sense Deuce’s thoughts, he begins to voice his own.

“Be that as it may, I doubt Rollo means to actually harm Yuu. Almost everything he has said to this point about magicless people seems to suggest he thinks they need to be coddled, not punished.”

“Indeed.” Jamil nods, eyes closed as if he is thinking really hard about something. “But his personal feelings towards Yuu is what makes this concerning, that’s what you are thinking I assume Azul?”

“Like I said,” Azul tries to ignore the cold sweat gathering at the back of his neck, “I doubt he means to harm them, but that doesn't mean his actions won’t have unintended consequences. Which is why we need to wrap this up as quickly as possible.”

“The rest of you do that.” Deuce is surprised by how calm he feels, his best friend is in danger, he should be furious. But all he feels is an unfamiliar determined calm. “I’ll go look for Yuu.”

“LOLOL what makes you think you need to do that?” Idia's laughter does spark a bit of a snarl from him, but Idia doesn't back down. “If Rollo’s following the classic BBGE playbook, Yuu’s got to be in the Bell Tower yeah? No need to split off into search parties, the princess is always in the final castle.”

“So there you have it.” Malleus has been disturbingly quiet ever since Epel pointed out how he destroyed the fire lotuses. His green eyes haven't once moved from their scorched roots, as if he is attempting to sear his anger into the stones below. “I will crush Rollo Flamm under my heel and bring Yuu back to all of us as whole the day they were taken.”

“Dude it has literally been like an hour.” Idia shakes his head, but Deuce can't help but agree with Malleus.

“Hold on Yuu, I promise we'll find you.”

~~~~

“Nyhahahaha! Take that!” Grim swats the air as if he's cutting through imaginary ropes. “All those other losers screamin’ and whining as soon as those flowers started poppin up but not the Great Grim! I jumped all the way up to where that Rollo guy was hangin out and followed him right here to you!” The story Grim tells you confirms your worst fears, but soothes some of the lesser ones. You have no doubt that if anyone can solve the threat of the crimson lotus’s it’s Idia, Azul, and Malleus. As soon as they were done measuring dicks anyway, for now you only have one real thing on your mind; desperately scrambling forward on the floor to scoop Grim up in your arms and hold him tight. He's trembling, and your heart begins to beat painfully in your chest as Grim starts to sob. “I was so worried about you.”

“I'm ok Grim.” You mean it this time, whatever Rollo fed you has well worked its way through your system and left you with the energy to whip away your beloved monster’s tears. “A bit sleepy but ok.”

“Of course you're OK the Great Grim's here.” You contine wipe his nose through his sniffles. “And now he’s gonna get you out of the tower! Just like a real hero!” But his bravado has a slight stutter, and yours is fighting a war with your heart. Your eyes close as you think of Rollo, at the top of the bell tower fighting to defend his delusions from people who would understand only half of what his problems were.

“I wish I had met him sooner.” It wouldn’t have stopped this, but you wonder not for the first or last time what would have happened if the poor mage had just had someone to talk to.

“You don’t wanna go do ya.” Grim frowns, eyes and ears drooping before he remembers he is supposed to be in charge. “Well then we can stay. Why should we go back to the other guys! Yeah! Screw ‘em! Always makin’ us do the hard work while they go and have fun.”

“No it’s ok Grim.” You stand, making sure to still hold onto him as you stand, carefully at first to make sure you are ok to put weight on your legs. “If we stay here you will never get to be the world’s greatest mage.”

“Yeah…” Grim does not perk up when you say that, it’s almost enough to make you break out into a sprint in case he has lost too much of his magic already. “Ya know… henchuman, I don’t wanna go out there alone. S’ not fun without you. I don’t wanna be the greatest mage if I have ta not have you.”

“...I’m not going anywhere Grim.” You touch your head to his, like a mother cat trying to comfort her kit. It’s an empty promise you suppose, with how desperate you are to go home. But if what Rollo had said about teleportation magic was true… then maybe you would just have to pick a place to make a new home instead.

The rest of the night is a blur. Somehow you manage to make it down the tower stairs to Deuce, who nearly has a panic attack when he sees you, and Rook who starts composing a poem in ode to Grim’s bravery that gives him a unneeded ego boost. They do a much better job of explaining what had happened than Grim had.

About the lotuses. About the pandemonium in the town, about what Azul and Idia had convinced Malleus to do.

“Please don’t ever get kidnapped again. Malleus got really scary.” The look on Deuce’s face suggests you will need to give Tsunotarou a lecture later. A long, long lecture that you suppose you can make somewhat shorter for how glad you are to hear the Bell of Solace ring out. And for insisting on Rollo still hold the ball. Getting to see Silver and Sebek try to toss Ruggie, Jamil, and Idia in the air completely makes getting kidnapped worth it. But…Your friends have not exactly left you alone since the threat ended. You know why of course, if one of them had been kidnapped you probably would be doing the same thing, but it’s keeping you from some closure. For someone who promised to come back for you, Rollo sure seems determined to stay away. It’s making your expression crumple in sadness behind your mask, something you wonder if he notices at all.

~~~~

“I am so grateful to you for providing me with so many memories.” Malleus holds tightly onto Rollo’s arm as the music flows across the ballroom, piercing gaze strategically keeping him away from the moonlit balcony you have decided to sequester yourself too. “But I must say there is one matter I think we have neglected to discuss.”

“And what could that possibly be?” Rollo snaps, the audacity of these Night Raven fools hurts, all he wishes to do is lick his wounds in peace.

“Why, the matter of your unfortunate attachment to my dearest friend.” Mallues grins, something like fear is finally flickering behind Rollo’s eyes. How unfortunate. “The child of man is precious to me, Flamm. And more importantly they do not share your views on magic.”

“Have you asked them?” Rollo replies tersely.

“Why would we need to do that?” Azul’s voice smoothly interrupts the private dance, he and Idia move to Rollo’s either side, they certainly look concerned. Angry even. If there were not mages Rollo would be pleased you had such dedicated friends.

“Because it’s clear from how little you paid attention to their safety this entire trip that you expect them to constantly come away from your magic abuses unscathed.” He snaps. “Tell me, if I hadn’t placed them in the tower, what would have happened to them? Would you have been considerate of their weaknesses? Yuu is not invincible, and I am ashamed that I of all people seem to be the only one concerned about their safety.”

“No I don’t think you are.” Azul says. “Not in the way you think, anyway. Yuu is extremely capable, we don’t treat them differently from any other student because we hate them, that’s just silly. Your entire perception of them is based on a terribly prejudiced first impression, and not one nearly as positive as you seem to think.”

“You can just say he has a creepy purity fetish and go.” Mutters Idia.

“And completely destroy my credibility?” Azul has more to say, but it's cut off before he can make his point.

“I agree with Shroud.” Mallues says, causing both Rollo and Azul to choke. “His treatment of Yuu is very much in line with cult-like devotion towards a magical artifact. Extremely ironic given his mission statement, wouldn’t you agree, Ashengrotto?”

“Oh of course!” Azul laughs, making sure to step forcefully on Idia’s foot before he can go correcting anyone. “But perhaps back to my point-”

“You don't have one.” Mutters Rollo, already bored with the conversation and desperate to find you again, just one more time before this entire failed event is over and he has to return to his plans.

“Yuu is a hard worker, and stubborn too. They do not need magic to be just as capable of what they do as any mage.” Azul’s words make him pause, he searches desperately for any sign of deception in them, but there isn’t any there.

“You do realize,” he tries slowly, “that none of those qualities make them able to defend themselves from offensive magic, which your Professor at least seems to think you quite willing to use.”

“I mean yeah.” Says Idia. “But like, that’s not what he’s trying to say. If you only choose a route because it has tropes you like then you aren’t really loyal to that character. If the only reason you don’t want to hurt Yuu is because they haven’t got magic then you are just as bad as any of us. And trust me, they’re scary smart. They’ll know.” And with that cryptic message, Rollo finally finds himself alone with his thoughts.

Two lines. The first time he saw you the only thing he knew about you was two lines on a sheet of paper that said literally nothing. And the longer he stares at you, the more he feels like he is drowning under the weight of how little he still knows.

Yuu is a magicless human from a world without magic. They like to read about myths and legends from different cultures. They like their cat monster friend and treat him like a sibling. There, that’s three lines.

Unbidden, his body begins to move towards the balcony where you are standing.

What is Yuu’s favorite color, do they like croissants? Are they allergic to any types of pollen, what is their world like? Do they have siblings, a family that they miss?

He wants to kiss you again, but properly this time. Not in the throws of a shared delusion, still maybe in the bell tower, but with your full acceptance.

“May I have your hand?” Rollo feels more sick at the way your eyes light up than anything Malleus had said about guilt and absolution.

“Of course.” He does not take you out to the center of the dance floor, he does not flaunt you as a trophy won at your friends expense. He simply winds his arms around you to hold you scandalously close. “Rollo, do you mind if I ask you some questions? About some things that Idia told me…”

“Will you give me your number?” He thinks there is a different way he is supposed to ask a question like that, a nicer one. “There are a lot of things I want to talk to you about, but tonight I think I want to savor what it feels like to hold you for as long as I can… as long as you are alright with that.” You do not say anything in response, instead you lay your head against his chest, ear firm on his heartbeat as you close your weary eyes. “I meant what I said before. I want you to think of Fleur City as a place where you can find respite. Solace.”

“Maybe you should invite me to come back then.” You say and he closes his own eyes to picture it. He has other places he can take you, better bookstores, more historic places. Maybe there is a key to sending you home somewhere in his city and if not-

“Careful, I just might ask you to stay forever.” There is an unspoken aura over you both. Gentle, new, and warm in a way that Rollo certainly never thought he would be allowed to experience. An aura of agreement that in time, that might not be such a bad thing to ask after all.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #rollo flamme x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #tw yandere #tw drugs #tw drugging

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mcflymemes · 1 year ago

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ANYONE BUT YOU (2023) PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

you still live at 28 fuckboy lane?

there's a reason why you're alone. no one can trust you.

i still think about the night we spent together.

these last few days really made me realize how much i miss you.

that night at your place, no matter how it ended, it was still pretty amazing.

so... you gonna kiss me now?

you'll always be my rock bottom.

okay, nuzzle my neck. get in there.

we are not together. we were faking it the whole time.

we have to kick it up a notch. make it feel like we're in the ga-ga stage.

you know, i feel really bad about that.

did you catch him measuring his dick with a ruler app?

you scared the shit out of me.

we're getting pretty good at faking it.

it doesn't matter how we found out.

permission to put my left hand on your right buttock?

okay, not in circles. it's not a magic lamp.

are you not wearing underwear?

we do not inherit the earth. we just borrow it from our creatures.

i have a better idea. you just let me do everything.

thanks for being so cool about all of this.

you want a coffee? it's the best n the world.

there's only one bed, but we hung a shower curtain in the middle.

hi. where's your bathroom?

i could have done it myself, but whatever. thanks.

thanks for not stealing my coat.

is that really a two person job?

you would let me die?

they think i'm throwing my life away.

no, that was rude. i apologize to anyone that was listening.

i don't know. i'm not good at this, sorry.

i'm from a different generation.

i'm not talking about love. i'm talking about dick.

all that matters is that we're together.

that's not me anymore. i'm free now. i'm deprogrammed.

no way, that man does not have a heart.

well, that didn't take long.

if i never ask you for anything ever again, can you please just lay off of me this weekend?

let's just have a moment to calm ourselves.

no one cares. no one can see us.

we were on a break, asshole.

either way, someone's lying to someone.

i must have really gotten under your skin.

you used none of those terms properly.

i cannot believe i just said that out loud.

i'm sorry. my life is a disaster right now.

look at this place. it looks like every serial killer reenactment documentary.

no matter how broken something is, there's always a way to fix it.

this whole thing is so new to me.

i don't really like labels, but i like you a whole bunch.

so are you going to ask me out now?

so if we were getting attacked by giant spiders, you would not be able to protect us?

you two know each other?

i'm going to go grab a drink. door's that way if you're looking to sneak out. i know that's your thing.

i'm going to get a drink and toast to never seeing you again.

how crazy is it that we're on the same plane?

why do so many of us feel stuck?

you don't even play tennis.

we're fine if he just stays away from me.

you're such a romantic.

i was hoping you'd come. i wanted to message you, but i didn't know how you'd feel about hearing from me.

they're also a little worried how you're gonna react to all this.

you have a little something in your teeth.

we need to come up with a game plan.

you are so terrible at this.

it's harder than you think.

they know i would never go out with a guy like you.

we just suck face in front of everybody.

you're calling me a fuckboy like it's an insult? i own that shit.

let's just be affectionate. i know it's a foreign concept for you.

you were the one who said there's a thin line between love and hate.

i think it was more of a euphemism for crying alone.

i definitely didn't hate you.

last night was the first thing i haven't regretted in a long time.

i love the weird way you stick your hand down my pants.

#thank you to fxcdboys for the suggestion!!!#rp prompt #rp meme #mcflymemes #rp memes #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #ask meme #rp starters #roleplay meme #ask memes #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter #sentence starter prompt #sentence starters

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ravencincaide · 1 year ago

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We need to talk

Summary: You assume the worst; after all why else would your partner utter those four cursed words OR Sometimes there is no easy way to have a difficult discussion but one could always take a more human approach towards it.

Pairing Dazai x Fem! Reader X Chuuya (SKK x fem!reader)

Inspired by request by anon: A more alternative, very stand-alone part two for “Desperate times call for Desperate measures” where the boys realize how much their actions have hurt the reader

Warnings: Depression/ hint at postpartum depression, hint at bad eating habits, very mild sexual hint, cursing, hurt comfort

Enjoy~ ______________________________________________________________

“ We need to talk”

When you heard those words your heart flopped to your stomach; the bitter, icky taste of bile filled your mouth. You froze mid-motion, somewhere halfway between straight and bent over towards the crib, about to place the newly nursed and sleepy boy-child beside his already napping twin sister. Your hands began to shake, so much so that you almost dropped the child the last half a meter to the soft mattress of his crib.

“ W-what?” you gasped out, your eyes flickered towards his voice. But Dazai was almost completely out of your field of vision. Even as you craned your neck you could only catch a glimpse of him, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

“ Put him down for his nap and we’ll talk downstairs” Dazai replied, his voice soft, but you doubted it was more for your sake than the snoozing children.

You swallowed thickly and turned back to the two babies. Your heart was beating a million miles an hour. A part of you desperately wanted to pick those two back up into your arms and shut the door on Dazai. To shut away all the issues and imperfections and just rock your children close to your body. Hold them until the world stopped spinning. When did it all become so difficult?

– Another part of you hated them. The twins that seemed to hold every ounce of Dazai and Chuuya’s love, leaving none left over for you.

You wondered if you’d still be together if it weren’t for the twins.

The thought made you shudder. Your thoughts drifted back to the four words that brought on this level of anxiety in you. We need to talk. In your mind there is only one reason for you to hear those words. And you knew you were not ready to face that reality- what person- woman would? When you’ve put so many years towards your relationship; celebrated so many achievements, mourned so many sacrifices, the joys of parenthood and the struggles of being partners. All of it. The good and the bad.

Your eyes flickered down to your ring finger and you felt tears well up in your eyes. A part of you wondered if that was the reason why they never married you- never even offered. Because then ending things would be so much easier. Though, rationally, you guessed everything good had to come to an end. With or without a ring.

Setting the child back down in the crib you pulled the blanket over the twins. Your fingers brushing against their cheeks with featherlight touches. You bit your lip as you felt a tear roll down your cheeks. Then you pulled your hands away and wiped your cheeks, steadying your nerves.

You were not going to give him- them- the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

Once you felt your icy mask of professionalism slip into place, you finally turned to face Dazai. With quick steps you headed out of the room. He closed the door behind you quietly then began walking downstairs, hands in his pockets. He looked relaxed, casual even.You followed, keeping half a step behind him. Not close enough so your shoulders would bump, but close enough to show that you were ready to face whatever unpleasant excuses he was going to throw in your face. You held your head high, proud and confident.

But was that actually true? A little voice in your head whispered. Were you really so certain in yourself and your own ability to hide your emotion that you would be able to out-lie the great Osamu Dazai. More importantly, would you really be able to remain calm and just stand and listen as the two most important men in your life listed all the things wrong with you. All the reasons why you weren’t- and would never be- good enough.

You stopped mid step, halfway between the messy living room of childrens toys, feeding bottles, diapers and clothes scattered around without any care, and just around the corner from the kitchen and the kitchen table where you had planned to spend the rest of the evening, working to wrap up whatever work you had left in your partners departments. The work you took over while your so-called lovers were two months abroad god-knows-where doing god-knows-what. Once the finalities were fixed, you’d be able to create a report of everything that occurred in the departments during their absence; the decisions you made and suggestions you’d advise for the future. All to make the transition into their respective roles as smooth as possible. At least that had been your plan earlier tonight. A foolish, meaningless plan that was masqueraded as helping them with work when in reality it was just a facade for you to feel useful. T ofeel connected to work.

A woman- not just a mother.

From the corner of your eye you could see the clock on the wall gently swaying with each tick-tack sound. A reminder that the screw it hung on would give away at any moment now. Once it would finally let go, the clock would crash to the ground, the glass shattering and the hourhands stopping at whatever doomed time it happened. You hoped it happened soon- maybe even as you passed it. Shaking your head you sighed and ran a hand through your hair, a defeated expression on your face. “ Dazai I understand, you don’t need to say anything I am sorry for whatever and –”

“-Belladonna, you’re not getting out of this talk” Dazai stated matter of factly. “ so please keep walking”

He was curt with you. Short and straight to the point. Nothing shy of an order- a veiled threat that reminded you of your place. Shuddering slightly, you started walking again, resembling a scolded puppy rather than a confident mafioso partner and mother of their children. Your gaze was focused on the floor as you followed Dazai into the kitchen where you heard Chuuya shuffling about. With each step, the geers in your head kept turning, filling you with deeper dread and anxiety. With questions you needed to ask and were terrified of knowing the answer to.

Suddenly, you snapped out of your daze as a sweet scent filled your senses, one that wasn’t unfamiliar despite the fact that you hadn’t smelled in months. Your eyes left Dazai’s back as he took a seat at one of the kitchen chairs and searched for the source of that fragrance. Then your eyes widened in surprise as you saw a vase with flowers standing right in the middle of the kitchen table. Beside your computer and all the files and other paperwork you prepared. You frowned a little, confused. Why were there flowers?

“ Is there something wrong with getting flowers for my precious partner?” You frowned a little at the statement, definitely thrown off guard.

“ What’s the matter, is the smell giving you a headache?” Chuuya asked, tone worried as he emerged from the kitchen with a large platter of fruit, primarily berries and sweet tropical ones, which he set down on the table as close to you as possible before disappearing back into the kitchen.

“You must be hungry Bella, try some” When you didn’t move closer, Dazai wrapped a cold hand around your wrist and tugged you towards himself until you landed awkwardly in his lap. He chuckled at you, his hot breath hitting your ear as his arm came to wrap itself around your waist. He was holding you closely- tightly- leaving you barely any room to get comfortable, let alone stand up and leave. Ignoring your discomfort, Dazai picked a grape of the vine and offered it to you. When you ignored it he popped it between his lips, smiling as the sweet juice filled his senses. “ ahhh they’re sweet, like cotton candy, you should eat it” he urged you again.

You just frowned more and crossed your arms over your chest, ignoring him and his attempt at feeding you. Your eyes were focused on Chuuya re-emerging from the kitchen, several bowls levitating around him. Then your face flushed slightly as whipped cream and several types of chocolate were placed in front of you by the berries. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, this time for an entirely different reason “ Whipped cream? Chocolate? Now?” you questioned your mind drifting back to what happened the last time that combination appeared between the three of you; the result were the twins.

Following your trail of thought Dazai chuckled and rested his head on your shoulder, arms slightly tighter around your waist; “ Bella as much as I’d love to ravish you now until you lose your voice and can’t walk; you aren’t ready yet”

His words made you deadpan slightly; “ Dazai, I’m not a virgin. I’m more than “ready” for sex” You comment made him chuckle humorlessly as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“ You’ve had a tough delivery with a long hospital stay and then two months of utter hell, alone, with twins while juggling our work and managing the house.” another kiss, this one to the spot right where your shirt met your neck. “ You haven’t healed physically, you’re exhausted and tense mentally and we’ve neglected our partner duties for a while now.”

Chuuya sighed heavily at Dazai’s words as he sat down on the chair beside you, his body and attention turned entirely towards you. He reached forward to a pitted cherry and dipped it in the tiniest bit of dark chocolate before bringing it up to your lips.“ Sweetheart, please eat something. Jokes aside you’ve barely gotten anything into you.”

You huffed at Chuuya and rolled your eyes refusing the fruit until you’d know what the hell those two were playing at; “I eat, and I’m not all that hungry and also take vitamins to make sure that the milk is nutritious and the doctor check ups have gone—”

“ –Baby it’s not about the twins!” Chuuya’s rough and loud voice startled you, making a wave of guilt and sadness wash over you. You took a shaky breath, not understanding why he was suddenly so– so

” Shit, shh sorry sweetheart,” Chuuya’s hands wore on either side of your face, stroking your cheeks and catching any and all tears you’d spill. His blue eyes stared seriously into yours. There wasn’t an ounce of humour or lies on his face, just worry and a hint of guilt “ Both me and Dazai know you’re a wonderful mother- a superwoman and while away we knew the twins would be more than well taken care of. You on the other hand are a different story.”

“ Belladonna for once there’s no hidden agenda or clause. Just two idiots trying to make up for lost time. Will you let us?” Dazai pressed another kiss to your shoulder as Chuuya gave you a half sad- half hopeful smile before once again raising the chocolate covered cherry to your lips. You parted them for him slightly. Carefully he pushed it in your mouth, smearing the tiniest bit of chocolate and cherry on your upper lip, which he wiped off with his thumb. Then he brought it to his mouth and gave a lick.

“ hmm they’re not as sweet as I thought, how about some milk or white chocolate doll?” Chuuya grinned as he prepared several cherries in different chocolate combinations.

Oh how could you say no to that?

For every berry you ate, you saw Chuuya’s grin grow wider and wider. It looked as if he was ready to jump out of his seat and cheer the second the cherry landed past your lips while Dazai pressed more and more kisses to your clothes.

After a while your eyes landed on a sheet of paper near your computer “ What’s that?” You asked, your eyes flickering towards an unfamiliar table hand drawn with columns and times. The glint in Dazai’s eyes told you, you shouldn’t have asked.

“This is Dazai’s getting-Y/N-back-to-regular-eating plan- So tonight we start with berries and chocolate- stuff you’ve always been a sucker for Belladonna. Then tomorrow it will be cooked rice for breakfast with steamed vegetables and if you can manage than a bowl of miso and then for lunch–” Dazai rambled on, pointing out different times and the variety of dishes, snacks and back up snacks he planned to make sure you would go back to the regular three-times a day eating healthy and balanced meals.

In the meantime Chuuya fed you chocolate and cream covered fruit one by one, the only time he’d pause was whenever he’d purposefully smear a bit of the sweet treat on your lips and kiss it off; a silent request for you to just relax and let them take care of your for a change.

The sign of affection made you smile and helped ease some of your anxiety. You weren’t going to be fooled into believing that this was honestly done for your sake and not the twins. And that they didn’t have some kind of agenda behind their actions. Still you’d rather cling to any scraps of attention they spare for you than face the bitter truth of what your relationship has become.

For now. ---

All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

#chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #soukoku x reader #Soukoku x reader #bsd x reader #bsd request #new parents #hurt/comfort #desperate times call for desperate measures

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