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screampied · 1 month

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‘ THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ synopsis. university sucks major ass. on the bright side, you’re on break—you decide to go pay your father a visit. this 'visit' ends up to you being introduced to his best friend, toji. who’s he? maybe your panties know the answer.

wc. 7.4k

warnings. fem! reader, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), praise, cunnilingús, squìrting, implied multiple órgasms, unprotected, degradation, size difference, impact play, poor dad is kinda clueless, almost caught, overstimulation.

dbf! masterlist

“who’s he?”

a simple question — yet the moment the words ran out your mouth, it felt as if all eyes were on you. in reality, it was though. the tall man who was quite a few staggering inches taller than your own father had such a gaze. he had hands buried into the depths of his pockets, shifting his weight as he stood still before burning a stare right into you. an intense stare, you could almost make out somewhat of an intriguing smirk. that sly smile with an everlasting scar running down the right side of his mouth.

“hey honey,” your father waves out with a brief gesture. he throws an arm around the buff man before giving him a rough pat on the back. “this is toji. met him ‘bout a year ago at one of those boat races. heh, news flash—he lost.”

“woah. no need to embarrass me, man,” toji murmurs in a raspy tone and by all means was his voice deep. laced in pure baritone, far deeper than your fathers. by a mile, to be specific. his voice has a jagged huskiness to it, insanely attractive. as he spoke, his eyes flickered towards you and he’d occasionally look away with that same chaffing sneer. “but anyway,” toji averts his eyes back towards you. his cologne was loud, you could smell it from miles away from you. he pauses for a few good seconds before uttering. “it’s nice to meet ya, sweetheart.”

you gulped, suddenly feeling small. you couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him — his demeanor, the way he carried himself, anything was. but it was something that had you a bit drawn in so to speak. “i um..”

“she’s not that much of a speaker,” your father chuckles, giving you a soft rub near your back. “poor brain’s probably all fried from those midterms. right honey?”

“you don’t say.” toji raises a brow, glancing away for a moment and a smile tugged right against his his dimples—and for a moment, he was suddenly intrigued by his best friend’s daughter.

that was the initial first reaction between the two of you. you ended up staying at your father’s house for the remaining duration of your visit.

nothing too much sparked between the two of you, of course there’d be subtle moments. real subtle moments—stupid things, like having him help you grab something from one of the top shelves.

of course he’d help, he was taller than you by many many inches. effortlessly towering over you. it’s the way he’d press up against you. it was quite hard to shut those thoughts of yours up. those lewd salacious thoughts that were forever kept into the very back of your brain, silently fantasizing about your father’s best friend.

apparently, he stayed for quite around the same time you did since he and your father would typically hang, do all sorts of men activities you never really cared about—golfing, shooting ranges, watching the most recent football games. that was the most annoying part, how they’d both obnoxiously yell at the screen whenever their favorite team was pathetically losing.

your room was directly upstairs, you heard everything. it was as if the walls were merely thin. in a way, they were. the constant repetitious hollering from the two men were so irksome. eyes merely rolled to the back of your head whilst you were trying to scroll on your phone in peace.

you never did understand why a dumb game of balls would drive men so crazy. nevertheless, you let off a tiny sigh before plopping right down in your bed. immensely, you stared off into space.

you had no idea why, but the minute your eyes linger into the white nearly peeled off drywall near the ceiling, you thought about him. toji.

stupid, maybe…

it’s been a few days and you hardly knew the guy. encounters between him were subtle and brief. he’d nod his head at you, barely acknowledging your existence and going straight back to some meaningless conversation with your father.

there was one day however, one day that had you hot all over. it was when you walked in on toji, he was using the spare shower that no one really uses, it’s reserved mostly for guests—perfect for him in this case.

you remember it like it was yesterday. since you were wide awake during this time for whatever reason, your dad sent you to go replace some towels from downstairs since he was doing laundry so you mindlessly make your way downstairs. the door was visibly cracked. sure, you probably should have knocked but who takes showers around three am?

apparently, this guy.

toji was literally just getting out the shower when you walked in. steam fogged throughout the entire space.

it was hot, stuffy and dampened with mist clinging against the rectangular mirrors. smothered with fog, you practically end up bumping right into something hard.

to be specific, that something was toji’s broad chest. maybe you were a bit delusional but you could have sworn, the moment you made contact with his bulky pecs, it moved upon impact.

“excuse you, sweetheart,” toji would scoff teasingly, his low voice was a bit more rougher since it was late at night. you were definitely speechless, barely able to process a single word from your mouth. thankfully a towel was wrapped around his slim torso—yet you started to wish maybe he didn’t have it protecting his lower half.

your eyes stuck to his chest the entire time, talk about embarrassing. immediately, your pretty dilated pupils ran down his chest, down his v-line, his perfectly structured build . . and then, his happy trail. he was well trimmed of the sort, practically. toji’s version of well trimmed was a bit hairy. regardless, it was still an attractive feature.

the more your eyes rove, the more you glance at his nearly perfectly sculptured structure. his chest was painted with a plethora of battle scars, now you were the one intrigued. you wanted to know more.

“you’re a little rude, huh,” and you abruptly snap from your thoughts. it was so brusque…

returning back to reality, out of that lewd trance you were so desperately trapped in—you blink twice, not even realizing how he was right up close to you. toji stares down at you before sneering. “it’s like three am. shouldn’t you be in bed?”

you shift your feet a bit, maintaining a little distance before trying to reply in the best nonchalant way possible. “uh no,” and then you utter awkwardly. “shouldn’t you be in bed? who randomly wakes up to take showers this late?”

“guys my age,” he jibes. “ya wouldn’t get it.”

you deadpan, fully aware it was a joke but you held everything in you to not have your eyes roll all the way back. “whatever,” and then you nearly forget what you were about to do. he watches you, you open near the lower cabinet and replace the clean towels. it grew profoundly quiet, a pin could drop. the moment you turned around, toji scoffs to himself. “did you need anything? something else?”

“ah. thank you, i’m fine, princess,” toji huffs with a sly grin. he reaches near the small wooden table to grab what seemed to be a half-used lotion bottle. however, you didn’t expect for him to completely change the topic, flipping your own words around with a blunt, “do you need something?”

“huh?”

“you heard me, girl.”

the banter…

he was definitely cocky, playful, literally any other synonym would fit.

you hated how he’d get you speechless everytime. you loathed how he was such an effect on you. with a brief gnaw on your bottom lip you narrow your eyes, mumbling out a, “stupid question.”

“i agree,” toji smirks. “but eh. y’er a smart girl. ‘m sure you can come up with a good comeback soon.”

he was so annoying, entirely so.

it’d be simple interactions like that between the two of you. much to your surprise though, nothing really else happened. toji would tease you a bit then pretend nothing happened, throw you a compliment or two and call it a day.

toji would often visit daily or twice a day, mainly to hang with your father. you could care less about what they did, but you were bored out of your mind from being in the house all day. you could go out, but it’s not like you had anyone to go with. everyone was either busy or … busy. besides, most of your friends were on exotic vacations or out of the country—you sighed, rubbing a hand against your stomach as you stared in the ceiling wall.

but then, the most lasciviously filthy thought made its way into your thoughts. you thickly swallowed before reaching a hand down between your legs. the air grew abnormally dry, shame…

to be completely honest, you couldn’t even remember the last time you touched yourself. this couldn’t have ever been a more perfect time. you were sure your father and his cocky best friend was out at top golf, probably.

intaking a single breath, you lean back against your pillow—slowly, you started to focus on your breathing.

parting your legs, you lightly pull down your shorts before tugging your panties to the side. you wince for a little, realizing how you were already a bit soaked. a little dampened spot right towards the front part of your underwear. you knew it had to be from pondering about toji.

speaking of, you remember that time where he helped—well, ‘attempted’ to cook dinner that one time. all you could focus on was his hands. such rough thick hands, you wondered what’d it feel like to have those same hands gingerly wrap around your throat. such thick fingers shove down your throat while he calls you such degrading names—just anything.

the more you were deep in thought, the more drenched you started to become. you went slow, being patient with yourself. you imagined it was toji’s fingers instead of yours. such big fingers thrusting in and out of you.

steadily, you start to insert a single finger in. a middle finger, it felt good, you suppressed a single moan and by this point, your imagination was running wild. you allowed your body to relax for a few moments before you slipped another finger inside. seconds later, you started to gentle move around inside your clit. your pace was sweet and precise—you let out a soft moan that rang throughout your thin walls. “toji—f-fuckkk.”

your voice was shaky, imagining toji being here right now made you throb ten times more. just propped all up behind you, thrashing his fingers against your swollen folds made you more aroused than you ever thought. your thrusts against your own entrance was small, a steady pace but irregular enough to make your knees start to buckle.

throwing your head back a little, you started to whine as each second dragged. your breath became insignificantly heavy, hitched and all. you made sure to stimulate in all the right areas, adapting to a perfect rhythm, then that’s when you’re rudely interrupted. talk about a cliche.

“hey. is it anymore detergen—”

toji pauses mid sentence, literally trying to process the scenery in front of him. he stands still and his initial reaction was slow. the first thing he does is chortle lowly. “well, shit. is this a bad time?”

you’ve never felt anymore embarrassed in your life, a sudden wave of heat rushed over your body before you quickly shielded yourself with your blanket. “oh my god,” you’d squeak out, and toji averts his eyes elsewhere for a few seconds. “i thought you all left already.”

toji hums. he takes a moment, and it’s as if he’s thinking of what to say. he was amused, seeing your flustered state and he looks back at you. “we were but it got canceled last minute since a storm’s approaching,” and you let off a soft gulp, hearing his footsteps creak against your wooden floor as he got closer. “thank god it was me who came in here ‘n not your father, right princess? now that’d be embarrassing.”

“stop calling me that,” you grumble, and you don’t even realize how soft and weak your voice was. you slowly pull your fingers out before intaking another sharp breath. he glanced at you before simpering. “haven’t you heard of knocking?”

“girl,” toji utters in a low rasp. “the door was wide open. i can’t knock on air,” and you mentally eye rolled — he was so insufferable. incredibly so, toji’s eyes roam across your old room that was a bit scattered with some boxes from when you moved out four years ago. it was a bit unkempt, your father usually used your room sometimes just to store things from the attic. toji buried his hands into his pockets before chuckling. “i heard you, ya know. moaning my name all loud like that.”

you blinked thrice, sitting up before compressing your eyebrows together. “what?”

“whaaat?” he jeers, mocking you. toji inches closer towards you until he was right beside your bedside. you gaze up at him and he had a blunt sticking out from the corner of his lips. he looked so appetizing, even while dressed down. ripped jeans and a sweatshirt. you could tell he was fit, of course he was—you saw him shirtless. he was well likely in his early thirties, dressing so laid back and casual. “between you and me, sweetheart, you can do better. ‘s cute ‘n all but that’s not how ya finger yourself. been a while, yeah?”

this guy, he was so bold. casually speaking his dirty mind, not afraid to say anything.

you don’t know why, but those last few words made you throb. you loathed how right he was, it was as if he could read you like a book. between studies and actually living a university student’s life, you barely ever get time to yourself. time to please yourself.

“whatever,” you utter. “yeah... it’s been a while.”

“poor thing,” he clicks his tongue before taking a seat on your bed. it jitters from his weight for a bit before he peers a gaze at you. “hm,” he puffs out, dragging a hand against his jeans. “i’d be happy to help though. those useless fingers of yours can only please you so much, right? heh.”

this indescribable effect he had on you, it heavily irked your nerves. “…please,” and you don’t even register what quickly came out of your mouth.

you were so pent up by this point, being interrupted. you wanted to finish, you desperately wanted to finish. your soft breaths hitched, and toji’s intimate stare lingered on you for a bit. his loud cologne started to waft across the entire room, so intoxicating. “just make me finish, please.”

“there’s those manners,” he coos in a husky tone, and he gets up closer. he was purely teasing you, you just wanted to feel his touch . . . feel something at least. he pulls the fat cover that went over you, yet at a more tantalizingly slow pace. he was a mere tease, you nearly let off a whine once you felt the tips of his warm fingers skim past your thighs. “messy girl,” he mumbles, and then he pauses to glance at you. “are you sure? jus’ wanna-”

“toji,” you mutter, and you liked hearing you roll his name so sweetly off your tongue. seeing you grow purely frustrated was utter amusement to him. the way your eyebrows would curl and furrow, irises flaring and your jaw slightly tensing. you had such readable body language by default too. “please. i want you. just touch me.”

he simpers. “pretty please.”

“……”

again, he was so infuriating. you felt yourself starting to pant, not knowing how much longer you could take as he started to softly trail a thumb against your skin. his touch was so warm, it was intense and ignited something within you.

“touch me—pretty please, toji.” you mutter out, sprawling your legs out just a bit. it was so hot, the temperature surrounding the atmosphere of the room was so humid. he glances at you before smiling.

“that’s a good girl.”

his words warmed your heart in such a lewd provocative way, you just wanted his touch.

desperately yearning for it, toji leans up close, bringing a big hand to part your legs apart and he was so slow. he takes the blunt that was propped up between his teeth, setting it aside near your nightstand. you prepare to inhale deeply, not expecting him to then bring a tender kiss towards your inner thighs. he started to create a trail—a trail that gingerly went up and up and up.

“so sensitive,” he’d purr, watching your own body melt from just the softness of his lips against your skin. you wanted him to hurry, you replayed this exact scenario over and over at least a dozen times. now that it was reality, you just knew that your body wanted him. “oh. don’t give me that look,” and he smirks, watching the pout grow against your lips. “gonna stare at me all day or are ya gonna tell me how you’d like for me to start?”

“i need you to—eat me out,” you huff out in short singular breaths. you were throbbing rapidly, each moment he stalled to speak, the more aroused you grew. his warm breath just fanning against your folds had you nearly going weak.

he snickers. “need?” he repeats, and you moan once he swiftly drags a finger down your soaked cunt. it was drenched, but it could be a bit more. toji hums to himself cockily. “you don’t need shit, girl. fix your sentence ‘n talk proper..”

“i—” you gripe, starting to grow more and more frustrated. your vexed facial expression amused him. he raises his darkened brows, awaiting for your answer and the cute pout that continued to stretch across your lips was so cute. “i— i want you to eat me out, pretty please.”

“much better,” he says in a low gruff. the moment he finally hovers his mouth over your sopping clit, toji gently strokes a thumb up and down. opening you up slowly, he creates a single slow lick to make you whimper. “i’ll make ya cum quicker than you ever could, princess.”

and you knew he probably wouldn’t lie about a simple fact like that. toji’s touch, it was sloppy.

without a doubt, he was a messy eater.

just one taste of you and he was hooked—a new addiction for him and it wasn’t gambling.

you tasted sweet, candied even. he was in so deep, occasionally the tip of his nose would prod against your entrance. you slumped back against the bed, your legs twitching in pleasure. not before long, your lips started to part and you started to gnaw on your hardened knuckles. you didn’t wanna be too loud—you just remembered your father was right downstairs.

he didn’t have the best hearing in the world, but knowing you, you could be a bit overzealous with your moans.

the noises his tongue made, sliding his tongue between your folds, sucking and nibbling. he even broke away his lips just to spit a nice wad onto your pussy. you watched the entire time, mesmerized. he was so nasty—nasty and you only wanted more. toji continued to drag a thumb against your slit, lapping up your slick arousal that was already starting to drip down his chin. it ran further down, a bit of his trimmed facial hair now soaked with your sweetness.

“how’s it feel, princess,” he’d mutter out, briefly departing his lips away. as he does—you stare as a pretty cobweb of his own spit tugs against your own entrance. glistening and all, it was so sheeny. he was right between your precious thighs, and you couldn’t help but give his ruffled dark hair a light pull. “tell me how i make you feel. talk to me nice, girl.”

“good,” you whimper, nearly choking on your own saliva. your words were so trembly, you could hardly recognize yourself. it’s been a while since you’ve been eaten out, let alone being intimate. as you continued to let off irregular breathing patterns, you swallow. “f-feels good.”

“just good?” he’d tease, bringing a long suck towards your clit. you let off a whine once he playfully nibbles near that particular spot with his teeth. his tongue scrapes against your folds time and time again. it’s indescribable—toji’s head shook back and forth as he was nose deep into your pussy. for a moment, he sounds offended.

toji gives your cunt a sweet little kiss, and he feels it start to hastily pulse from doing so.

he knew you were getting close, all from a simple cue from his tongue. speaking of toji’s tongue . . it was lengthy.

so long, it reached areas that had your eyes mindlessly rolling back.

cute little cacophonies of, “oh my g-godddd,” repeated ghosts past your lips as you started to practically drag his face against you. the texture of his tongue—so moist and slick, already wet from obvious reasons, but grew even more dampened from your sheer arousal. it was a taste his tastebuds grew to crave more of. “gonna c-cum toji. f-fuckkk.”

“you’re gonna wait for me, little girl,” he grouses, and your irises fleetingly dilate. he gifts the entrance of your cunt with another string of spit, then he rubs a few circles against it. mean vigorous circles that made your legs pathetically twitch. “you make a mess when i tell you too.”

he was so mean.

such sternness in his tone, yet it turned you on. that slight secretive rasp that hid underneath his voice. toji breaks his lips away for a moment, glaring at you before focusing near the crevices of your thighs. he teasingly slides his tongue upward, away from your most sensitive area just to watch you squirm.

“toji,” you’d whimper, feeling his tongue just roam everywhere from below. he was so skilled, you’ve never had a man be so sloppy. at least in a way that toji was. he greedily sucks near your thighs, gently sinking his canines into the plush of your thighs before going back towards your pussy. “i can’t—can’t hold..”

you were barely able to finish your sentence, and that’s when you came — it was so sudden and abrupt. gushing all out of you and your nerves had your mind spiraling. a constant crazed loop.

it felt like a wave, a tsunami crashing down and it felt so good.

your orgasm that shortly followed was so loud, you didn’t even bother trying to cover your mouth. toji chuckles, cupping his mouth around the very top part of your achey slit before lapping his tongue against your hood. your hips temporarily quavered due to his tongue, and you still maintained a rough grip on his head.

“easy on the fuckin’ hair,” he’d grunt after feeling you roughly yank on his strands bringing a kiss towards your slick entrance. you swallowed, your legs feeling practically mush before he brings a terse spank towards your clit. “cute ‘n all, but i didn’t say you could finish yet.”

“s-sorry,” you’d breathe out, still feeling the after effects of your intense high. it was so good, your eyes were all hooded and droopy. toji saw a bit of drool seeping from the corners of your mouth and hums silently.

he sighs, leaning up before getting on top of you. he hovers himself and you stare up at him. he rests both arms over you, groping near the rickety headrest before leaning up close to your face.

“are you sorry, sweetheart?” and he gets up a bit closer, green viridescent eyes glance right into you—you smelled the mint and brief tang of alcohol residing on his tongue. using another hand to grab your chin, he softly pulls your bottom lip down before derisively grinning. “aw. nothing to say? no back talk this time?”

“i… want a kiss,” you pant, feeling his warm body just inches away from colliding against yours. just a single inch and he’d be grinding on you. “kiss me.”

“oh i dunno. sounds like a demand, babygirl,” he’d sneer, and your eyes leer near his scar. it was damp a little from him just being between your thighs a moment ago. perhaps it was a bit filthy, but you wanted to taste it. taste him. “ask me the right way.”

you pout, staring right into his eyes. “i wan— can i get a kiss, pretty please. i just want a kiss.”

“course ya can,” he utters, and that’s right when he squeezes your chin. your lips were plump and glossy. toji stares at you back for a long while, studying your cute expressions before he leans right in. the kiss was passionate, it felt so wrong but felt so right. you moaned the second his lips crashed onto yours. he finds it cute, feeling your arms rub and feel around his slim waist. you were pulling him closer — a sign that you wanted more of him. toji teasingly grinds his hefty body against you, and you whimper in his mouth once you feel his thick bulge prod against your panties that were halfway on you. “mhm.” he’d groan.

while his tongue skims against yours, you part your lips a bit for him and the incoming savory taste you’d get a treat out of.

you made sure to savor it, so sweet with a bit of spice.

running your tongue against his, breaking away to lick near his chin, softly making sure to lick near his stubble—you cleaned your own mess off of him. without him asking you either, toji grunts as he watched you through his peripherals. he’d never expect his best friend to have such a nasty girl for a daughter.

“y’er fuckin’ filthy,” he mumbles, breaking away and watching both strands of spit leave and depart. your lips curv into a cute needy scowl before he heard your father suddenly call out from downstairs.

“honey? i said, was that a scream…? is everything okay?”

your eyes widen, not even knowing your father was speaking—yelling actually. toji snickers, and now he’s the one suddenly quiet. prick.

“o-oh um,” you clear your throat, sitting up and that’s when toji starts to create soft chaste kisses near the inside of your neck. you nearly moaned before turning your head to speak. “i’m—i’m fine. i thought i saw a cockroach.”

“cockroach? do you need me to come up and—”

“no!” you’d quickly reply before clearing your throat once more. you let off a sigh, feeling toji start to suck near your collarbone. “i mean, no dad. i’m okay. thanks anyways.”

“okay honey, if you say so.”

toji chortles. “fuck. you’re bad at lying. just tell y’er old man you were getting eaten out by me.”

you glare at him, immensely bringing your brows into a furrow. “no, i’m not gonna say that. are you crazy?”

“maybe.”

you eye rolled, yet part of you felt like he wasn’t exactly lying. after all, he could probably be insane—perhaps he was.

you didn’t know, and to be frank, you didn’t really care. all you really cared about was getting pleasured—riding out orgasm after orgasm with him, and that’s exactly what you ended up doing for hours on end.

toji would find himself leaned back against your pillow, studying your hips carefully before grinning.

the moment you lightly shove him back, he clicks his tongue. “oh?” he says, and you already sprung his dick out. he was very much hard, presenting you with an upward slight curve. you licked your lips, hovering over him before giving him a few strokes. a groan slips past his lips and your thumb brushes against the various veins that ran just below his foreskin. “y’er gonna ride me? can a sweet girl like you even handle it?”

“shut up,” you’d fuss, and he just smirks at you. you wanted to wipe that smug expression from his face. he knew just how to irritate your nerves. toji watches you throw your leg over him, a simple hook around. you’re straddling him now and he brings two rough hands to attach near your hips. you lean in to kiss him again and he returns it, slowly tilting his head back and your arms wrap around him. he feels you reach down, grabbing ahold of his shaft before softly sliding the head of his dick near your slick entrance. “s-shit. you’re big.”

“i try not to disappoint,” he slyly says, sliding a thumb near your hips. his voice was so low, so pompous and arrogant. you give him a glare but he only hums out of pure amusement. “barely the tip in ‘n y’er struggling. need my help, sweetheart?”

you ignored him and he smirks, allowing you to do your thing—you bring one hand towards his chest, gently feeling near his perfectly chiseled abs. he was so toned, tracing against his tense muscles and he watches your every move. it was as if time was stood still, he chuckles at how eager you were. you weren’t like him, you weren’t patient and thorough. you were a bit more rushed and sloppy—cute, it was very much cute to him though.

a moan goes past your lips once the wet tip of his slowly starts to sink inside. it had a few droplets of pre-cum leaking down, and you slowly rocked your hips in place to get comfortable. his eyes go lower to focus more on your body, the grip he had on your waist was so rough and sensual. because toji was so thick — it took you a good six minutes, six precise minutes to reach all the way down to the base. your lips opened a bit, and you let off a soft shrilling whimper once you did a cute attempt at jerking forward.

“take it slow,” he purrs in such a rasp, you leisurely started to lurch back and forth once he was buried all the way down to the hilt. you inhale deeply and he was so hefty. balls deep, swollen balls that was hidden and engulfed beneath your inner walls. “atta girl.” he praises, watching you try to maintain a decent rhythm.

ringing went throughout your ears, you felt all hot.

toji playfully brings a hand to feel near your tummy. you were wearing some old university hoodie. it was comfortable, but much to his surprise, you didn’t have a bra underneath. he hums to himself, and you let off a moan once his hand trails ever further. further and further until his thumb brushes against your perky nipples.

“t— toji,” you’d moan, and another hand of his was tightly clinging onto the left part of your waist. you were riding him smoothly. yet since he was so big, you started to feel your thighs building up with drowsiness. your efforts were cute to him, so desperately eager to get off.

his black lashes flicker, and the way he’s all leaned back and manspread was so attractive—you felt your back start to naturally arch and it didn’t take long for toji to reach that particular spot. once you felt his tip prod against there—way past inside the orifices of your cunt, you let off a sweetened whimper. “found it,” he whispers, bringing you close towards his chest. you lean into his touch, intaking his cologne into your nose before your hand starts to wander all over his body. he liked how handsy you were, slipping a hand right underneath his shirt to feel a part of his abs. you made sure to trace directly on each line, each tender flexing muscle. all the way down onto his sharp v-line. further down, you started to feel his happy trail. your favorite.

he grunts, feeling the softness of your hands meander freely. “that’s it, sweetheart,” he gruffs in a sharp breath. an imaginary lump getting caught in his throat — he was holding both of your hips upright and by this point you were slamming right onto his thick cock. “touch me more. feel all over me baby.”

“can i—” you started, leaning in to kiss near the crook of his neck. your voice was soft, a bit trembly before your hands went up this time. feeling near his pecs before a breath gets caught in his throat. “can i feel here, toji?”

“f-fuckin’ girl,” he groans, a chill running down his spine the second he feels you gently rubbing a thumb against his nipples this time. toji was surprisingly far more sensitive despite his rough front he was putting up, it was a bit cute. after all, he did say feel all over you. toji was panting now, while you rode him continuously, he swiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “whatever.”

you giggle, watching him now be the one with a pouty expression this time. you plant a kiss near where his slanted scar went down his lip before he spanks your ass. “just ‘cause ‘m sensitive there doesn’t mean ‘m gonna get all whiney for you, girl,” he utters in a raspy tone. the sharp sting from the spank felt good.

you felt yourself twitch between your thighs whilst your hips moved in harmony. you do a little back bend with your hips, constantly jerking against him and he grunts with how slow yet sloppy your movements were. “keep goin’ slow like that. ‘m gonna—cum.”

his voice consistently got deeper, and the tips of his fingers gently pierced into your skin—you were vocal yourself though. moan after moan, a constant repeat. you found yourself whining out his name as if it was a lewd mantra. over and over again, to toji though, it was purely music to his ears.

he feels you start to slow down a bit though, exactly at the minute he tells you he was approaching his incoming release. toji clenched his jaw, gifting the fat of your ass with another mean spank. “f-fuck. keep fuckin’ me. make me fuckin’ cum.”

you plant kisses near his neck this time, near the very inside and you swiftly quicken your pace a little. he was stuffing you full of thick inches, full of such girth that had your tongue salivating right in your mouth. you could only imagine what it’d feel like to have his seed pouring into you. you couldn’t lie to yourself, ever since you saw toji shirtless. his bulge sticking out through his towel, you only imagined he’d be so full of cum to give. you tilt your hips backwards, and he lets off a husky groan.

that particular spot reached so deep, you felt it too. his cockhead pokes and taps repeatedly against your sweet spot and you sob out a needy, “f-fuck, ‘s right there,” you tilt forward and he’s just about reaching his peak. the longer you took, the more spanks you received.

toji was a patient man, but only for so long.

the bed frame creaked constantly, it was the only tune that played in the background. he slithers a hand down between your thighs and spanks your cunt a few times. you whimpered, already a bit sensitive but felt something else approaching. “toji— toji.”

toji groans, the build up nearly taking his breath away. with your rhythmic thrusts against him, his eyes merely roll and he has to take a minute to catch his breath. you wrap a hand around his throat—tenderly of course—then place your lips onto his once he finally finishes inside of you.

he didn’t expect for you to choke him, but he liked it.

he liked how forward you were, your thumb lightly grazed against his adam’s apple, and a deep grunt gets trapped in his throat. your cunt was practically overflowed with such dumps of his cum—you’ve never felt more filled. toji shook a little, a hand gripping your ass as you kissed him.

slowly, he started to feel himself get addicted.

he already was addicted from having a simple taste of you earlier, but he was getting infatuated. you had him whipped, and he knew this probably wouldn’t be a one time thing.

albeit, the last thing you expect is to pull away from the kiss once you feel a sudden pressure brewing up within you.

momentarily, you whine—feeling a sudden familiar wetness coat his base. nerves all throughout your body had you locked in a trance, and you pause your hips before toji tsks.

“little girl,” he mumbles with a sly smile. “did you just squirt on me?”

it was so unexpected, you pant heavily—heave after heave leaving your lips before you moan out a sweet, “y-yes.”

“don’t be shy about it. i like when it’s messy,” he sneers, his eyes tantalizingly trailing down your body once more before he lifts you up just a bit from his shaft. he observes the lewd mess, how much cum trickled past your thighs and he hums. “wanna do that again? i bet i can do it in five minutes, baby.”

to say you were being treated like a rag doll was an understatement.

toji was ruthless with you, ruthless with you in your own house. well, ex-house. you didn’t live here anymore but you used to.

he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you like it was nothing. making you imitate and try positions you’ve never even heard of—you were getting stretched, easily said. it’s been hours by this point, you weren’t even in your room anymore. you were in the bathroom with him.

toji had you propped up against the door, you’re taking him from behind and you’re roughly biting down on your lip.

entirely so, it was still risky.

your father was right outside near the living room doing who knows what. probably watching some sports program—yet of course, he started to grow curious of where his best pal went. initially, toji said he had to use the restroom.

like four hours ago . .

he was so mean too, spanking your ass numerous times. your ass was perked upright for him, and you’re leaning against the door. you whimpered, feeling him grip on your panties that he refused to pull off of you.

oh, he likes seeing it dangle and thwack against your skin. the pretty fabric just cutely rubbing against your thighs. his weight just barely hovers against you and he’s smacking right into you.

your cunt swallowed his hefty inches each and every time—by this point, you weren’t sure if you could even give him one more.

you lost count of how many mind blowing orgasms that you were just completely intoxicated from his dick and his dick alone.

toji’s rough bare hands grab onto both parts of your ass, spreading it before deepening his strokes just a bit. you moaned, feeling every inch store inside of your sweet cunt. he knew just where to hit you. you breathe through your mouth and your nose at the same time, heavy cute pants that started to fog up the door’s material.

“fuck, fuck me f-fuckkk,” you’d drag out, and your back naturally arches just from a teasing touch of his finger racing down your back.

your ass was held up high and your cheek was softly nudging against the cold door. another build up was approaching and you were just so in awe—you were literally thinking, where has he been all your life? “close, ‘m getting closer.”

“bet you are. drippin’ all on me ‘n it’s fuckin’ nasty,” he replies—yet you freeze once you hear footsteps approach the door. it was your father, right when you were about to cum—you feel toji’s hand wrap around your mouth. your eyes roll backwards, and then he speaks through the other end of the door.

“toji? hehe, did ya fall in there man? you’re missing the game. we’re down by four points.”

toji chuckles, hearing a tiny muffled squeak go past your lips. he was balls deep, giving you such thick vigorous inches. that’s when he leans right up close to you—a hand still propped to have your mouth shut before whispering in a raspy tone. “you gotta be quiet, sweetheart. you want y’er old man to hear you make a sloppy mess on me?”

you shake your head, making an attempt to try and suck on his fingers and be smiles. “messy baby.”

your mouth was now stuffed with nothing but his thick fingers. you moaned, coating each digit with your glistening saliva as he pounded right into you. the grip your cunt had on him made him groan. eyes roll into the depths of your cranium so far back that your vision was pure black. squelch after squelch, it was so erotic. the build up of your incoming release yet again.

it was so slow and tense, you felt your thighs ache and tremble the more you were arched all over for him. the most sluttiest arch he’s seen in a while.

“huh—oh, nah man i’m good,” toji replies with a simper. you were trying so hard to be quiet, if your father heard anything, that’d be a wrap for you.

dying out of pure embarrassment certainly wasn’t on your bucket list for sure. the way toji responded was so casual, almost as if he wasn’t just happily drilling into his best friend’s cunt in his own home. “four points? shit. defense can’t do anything right.”

“telllll me about it! i could play better with my eyes closed, damn.”

you found it so irksome how they were casually having a dumb conversation whilst you were just about to gush right onto toji’s shaft—you felt him dip his hips into you deeper though, and you let off a sweet whine.

toji leans into your ear and whispers. “you’re doing a good job, sweetheart,” and then he chuckles. removing his hand, you nearly let off the most loudest orgasm imaginable but you kept it together by biting your tongue. it was a cute squeal, and as your legs part you made such a mess.

again…

it was probably the umpteenth time.

while you ride out your release, he’s slowing down his strokes and stares at the excess cum filling up your entrance. toji licks his lips, dragging a thumb to plug it all back in once he pulls out. he didn’t like putting things to waste. you whimper, feeling so taken aback from how stuffed full you were.

it was an awkward silence, you felt a sharp scare in your stomach once you thought your father heard everything — but thankfully so, he plopped right back down on the couch. toji lets you take a moment to calm down, and then he brings a wet kiss towards your lips. you were so sensitive, trembling within his hold—you didn’t want him to leave just now.

“atta girl,” he purrs, that same sly smile pressing against his lips as he brings a thumb towards your lip. his gaze was so hypnotizing. such pools of green eyes looked like it had a story to tell, and perhaps you wanted to know just who toji fushiguro really was.

maybe that story is ready for another day though.

thankfully you didn’t get caught.

or did you—you had to leave out the bathroom first, then toji after about a lengthy minute time difference so it wouldn’t be remotely suspicious. once the both of you were out, after about an hour of you all crammed up and watching the boring never ending basketball game, your dad ends up going to the bathroom.

while he was occupied, you leaned against toji and he wraps an arm around you. he could tell you wanted more—but his gaze was stern, telling you with his eyes to basically be a good girl and be patient.

a few seconds pass before you father bellows out a pitched, “erm. toji? is this shampoo—? what’s this white stuff over the sink? doesn’t look like shampoo.”

the both of you share the same frozen expression, impish smiles fading before you nudge toji to speak after long seconds passes.

“huh? oh, that’s uh mayonnaise. i forgot to clean up after myself.”

“aren’t you allergic to mayonnaise?”

you mentally facepalm, watching toji break into a sheepish sweat before he gruffs out a low, “i guess not that brand of mayonnaise.”

“right. riiiight,” your father mutters, and you heard sudden shifting. it was abrupt, and you felt something fall — probably a brush from the familiar after sound, you then hear your dad add a follow up question. “wait a minute,” and he glances down near the floor. “are these panties?”

#★vegasbaby.#toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #cw sex mention #jjk x reader smut

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zylev-blog · 2 months

Text

Batman opened the door, catching the falling body that had come out of the tube. Glowing green Lazarus water flowed around his feet, but he didn’t care. He gently laid the boy onto the ground, listening for breathing sounds. But he wasn’t even sure if his species could breathe. The boy was no older than Tim, with stark-white hair, and pale green skin. The boy wasn’t human, that was for sure, but as to what species he was, Batman had no clue. The teenager hadn’t even opened his eyes since being removed from the tube.

The Lazarus water didn’t smell quite like the pits he was used to. The water smelled cleaner, stronger. Less like battery acid and more like a strong-scented cleaner that he couldn’t give a name to.

He grasped the boy by the shoulders as he picked him up bridal style. He needed to take the boy to the cave, and figure out if he was even alive. A regular hospital wouldn’t be able to do anything for him.

“Batman, we’ve apprehended the last of the men in white suits.” Red Robin said over the comms.

“Good,” His voice was gruff, “Make sure they don’t escape before police arrive.”

Tim didn’t bother saying anything else to him. Neither of them were in the mood for jokes. Not after what they had seen tonight. They had stumbled across a lab in Gotham in an abandoned warehouse. They had thought that it was a Joker hideout when they first arrived, but they had quickly found out that wasn’t the case. After they had began to investigate, they had found corpses of many people that had been thrown into a pit. The bodies had evidence of vivisection, torture, and experimentation. The bodies had ranged from children to adults, but the results were all the same. They were all dead.

They had found tubes like the ones used at Cadmus. They held a few humanoid-species, but most of them looked like they were in varying stages of death. The only tube that looked like it held someone living had been the teenage boy he now held in his arms.

The worst thing about all of this were that they had no idea what this place was, what they were doing, or why they were in Gotham. They had stumbled in by mistake.

He had a lot of work to do.

“No survivors.” Nightwing’s voice sounded. Not even Dick was in a good mood anymore, and he had been joking around for the last few hours.

Batman looked down at the boy in his arms. The boy hadn’t stirred once, hadn’t moved, and hadn’t breathed. He might be carrying a corpse for all he knew.

“And the files?” He prompted.

“Downloading.” Red Robin’s voice was grim. “You’re not going to like it.”

He didn’t like anything about this situation already. How could it get any worse?

“From what I can tell from skimming through the files,” Red Robin continued, “They were experimenting with people’s souls. They killed all of these people because they wanted to catch their ghost.”

“Hrrn.” He looked away from the teenager in his arms. Maybe he didn’t have a corpse in his arms—but a ghost. A ghost of a teenager he failed to save.

What if it had been Tim lying in his arms? Dick? Jason? Damian? Did this teenager have parents before he died, or were his parents in the pit?

The boy stirred, whipping Bruce’s attention back to him. The boy moaned in pain, starting to writhe in his arms.

“You’re safe now.” He said to the boy. “You’re saved.”

“Nnnngh.” The boy opened Lazarus green eyes to look at him. The eyes were hazy, as if exhaustion plagued them. “Batman?”

“They won’t hurt you ever again.” He promised.

“Where is my sister?” The boy asked. “They took her.”

Dick’s words played on repeat in his mind. No survivors. But the boy didn’t need to know that. Not yet.

“We’re still searching the base. She’ll be here somewhere.” He lied.

The boy closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. But even with Bruce watching him, the boy did not breathe. Maybe he didn’t need to anymore. Tears leaked down the boy’s cheeks, as if he knew Bruce’s lie.

#dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc writing prompt #dp dc crossover #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc prompt #danny phantom #danny phantom crossover #dp x dc crossover #dp crossover #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp au #giw #ghost investigation ward #batman

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harryspet · 4 months

Text

bambi eyes (5) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!

word count: 3.9k

In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.

Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm.

You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them.

When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth.

“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”

You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana.

“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”

He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?”

You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”

“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him.

“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”

“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”

He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”

“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”

He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”

You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”

“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face.

“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you.

Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately.

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .”

“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”

Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”

Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”

“You want to see them. Really?”

“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”

Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”

“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”

“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”

“You want to be my friend?”

“I mean, only if you want me to.”

“I do.”

“Don’t tell Rafe though–”

Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you.

“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”

Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.”

There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”

Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow.

“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”

“Uh …no,” You stared.

Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been.

“Good, get in, Bambi.”

“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?”

“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”

You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”

“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.”

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off.

“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind.

“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”

Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill.

“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”

“He’s full of shit.”

You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”

“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”

“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”

“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”

“But why–”

“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”

You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping.

Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”

“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”

Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”

“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.”

“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”

“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”

“... It could be really fun …”

“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”

“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”

“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”

You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”

Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”

Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible.

Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ.

Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it.

“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body.

The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor.

The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words.

“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”

JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack?

“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”

Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him.

Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear, standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”

Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”

Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.”

“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way.

“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”

“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made.

“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”

“You saved me.”

Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes, but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”

Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”

“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”

“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”

“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”

Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going.

“You still sore from earlier?” He asked.

“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”

Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more.

“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”

You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”

“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered.

“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”

You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples.

He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”

Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again.

“Thank me.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly.

Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying.

A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together.

“Did people always stare at you like this?”

“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”

“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile.

“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded.

“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.

“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”

“Coffee isn’t good for you.”

“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it.

You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”

You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own.

You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes.

“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her.

“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic.

The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”

“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head.

“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”

He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock.

“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away.

You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle.

“Daddy-”

“Let’s go, Bambi.”

“Rafe-”

“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.”

You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.

PART 6

Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!

#dark fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #outer banks smut #barry outer banks #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfiction #jj maybank #kiara carrera

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pellucid-constellations · 1 year

Text

My Everyday

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes was aggressive, annoying, and—worst of all—a hockey player. Not your type. At all. But, unfortunately, your roommate.

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: Minor injury, idiots in love <3, some angst, pining

a/n: My first fic in a century!! Thank you so much for reading if you’re still here. Depending on how this does I hope I’ll have motivation to write more! College athlete Bucky never fails to get me inspired :)

Masterlist

“What’s this punks name again?”

The breath you let out was long and excruciating. “I am not repeating myself.”

“C’mon, y/n,” Bucky whined, knocking his head back on the couch. He watched you bustle around the kitchen from his inverted vantage point. “How the hell am I supposed to swoop in and save the day if I don’t even know the kid’s name?”

“Okay, well, first of all—” the fridge door clicked shut with a swift motion of your hips “—he’s not a ‘kid’. I’m pretty sure he’s a few months older than you.”

“Semantics.”

“And second of all,” you stressed, pointing a butter knife in his direction. “There will be no ‘swooping in’. I’m going to have a nice date and you are going to go hang out with your puck rabbits or whatever they're called. There will be no thinking about me and no swooping in my vicinity.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, kicking up from the couch and rounding the kitchen counter to pick at your sandwich. You knocked his hand away several times, but you both knew it was futile. In the months you’d been living with the hockey player—who was far too big for the small, shoebox of an apartment you leased—you’d learned that food was non-negotiable for Bucky Barnes.

There were many other things you’d learned about him as well. He sang in the shower, but only when he thought you weren’t home. He had an annoying penchant for using your $30 lotion—again, when he thought you weren’t home. And he loved to throw his massive, smelly gear just about anywhere it would land right when he got home from every practice.

He didn’t really care if you were home for that last one.

Bucky was the last person you thought you would be rooming with when you posted that ad last summer. A small, quaint room previously occupied by your now engaged (and traitorous) best friend, you assumed someone like-minded to yourself would have taken you up on your offer. The price point wasn’t egregious and the building was relatively close to campus.

But weeks ticked by, and you started getting desperate. Your landlord wasn’t a nice lady, something you were positive she took pride in, and she decided that a rent increase was the perfect way to ring in the new school year. You were on the verge of destitution, and as it so happened, the only other person as desperate as you was the starting center for your college’s hockey team.

You hardly got along. It had taken weeks for your eye to stop twitching every time he tumbled through the front door at three in the morning, and even longer for you not to feel an infuriating aggravation at his random, nighttime smoothies. You supposed he probably felt the same about your cleanliness rules and your incessant reminders about trash days. Because Bucky was in charge of bringing the trash down those long, apartment steps. Not you.

But you’d be lying if you said things hadn’t gotten easier as of late. Conversation flowed more smoothly, things that made you seethe before were only mildly annoying, and Bucky was being… considerate? You weren’t quite sure what to call the random cups of coffee he brought home on occasion. Or his sudden urge to warm up your car when he had a morning class before yours.

There was also the case of that party last weekend. A frat party with far too many drunk men and not enough common sense, you had had the urge to leave the second you got there. But Wanda had dragged you along for the sole purpose of driving her home after she got hammered, so you were essentially stuck.

It was fine at first. Hot and crowded and loud, but fine. You kept a general eye on Wanda and scrolled aimlessly on your phone in the armchair you claimed. And then it wasn’t fine, because a man twice your size was encroaching on your space and unrelenting.

“What kinda girl comes to a party and doesn’t even wanna talk to anyone?”

“You want to come up to my room and watch a movie or something?”

“Hey, I’m talking to you, bitch.”

You weren’t even aware that Bucky had been at that party. It wasn’t surprising—the line between fraternities and sports was blurred at your college—but the space he took up as he intercepted the man in front of you was.

“There a problem here?” Bucky posed, crossing his arms over his chest, his presence looming above your seated position. His weight shifted to his toes.

The man didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, you. Move.”

“Wanna fucking tell me what to do again?”

“Fuck you, man.”

A harsh shove to Bucky’s chest was all it took for a right hook to echo in the living room of the frat house. There was chaos. Grunts and screams from the drunk people surrounding the unnecessary fight created a cacophony of unpleasant sounds that seemed to get the attention of someone in charge. The man—Brian, you had now learned based on screams—was pulled back from Bucky and getting chewed out by some president or manager of something.

And Bucky was seething, chest rising and falling laboriously as he wiped at the new bruise forming on his face.

Fights were not uncommon. But this one had been about you. For you.

“Bucky?” you asked when the crowd calmed and Brian was no longer in the room.

You watched his back release its tight coil. He turned. “Are you okay?”

The words were almost lost in the noise of the crowd, but he was close enough that they created a tactile vibration across your skin. His pupils were dilated and he looked so disheveled it would have been charming if there wasn’t also a cut forming on his brow.

“Y/n.”

It took you a moment to realize that you hadn’t answered him. Your response fell out of you as if you’d been shoved. “I’m—I’m fine.”

He grunted, but it was more of a puff of air. “The fuck was that guy?”

“I don’t know,” you replied, realizing by the way you swayed that you had stood up at some point. “He just—”

“We’re going home.”

“What? I can’t, I’m here with Wanda. I’m driving her, Bucky, I can’t just leave.”

He grabbed your wrist, the grip achingly soft compared to the blows he was landing minutes before. “She left with that British guy she’s been on and off with. Asked me to tell you.”

That explained his random appearance. Your brows pinched as you took in the information, eyes cast down to the angry red marks marring Bucky’s knuckles. He’d been in fights before. So many fights. On the ice.

This was different.

“I haven’t been drinking—I can drive myself home. You don’t have to leave,” you shouted over the music now bumping in the room.

He didn’t respond, not verbally. He pulled you to his front instead, leading you through the impossible crowd until cool night air began melting into your skin. His silence was strange. Bucky’s favorite activity was talking your ear off until you told him to shut up, but right now… nothing. Even his earlier words had been clipped.

You felt responsible for easing the tension in the air as Bucky continued to guide you to your car. You hadn’t told him where you parked, but he seemed to know the exact location anyways.

“You really don’t have to leave with me,” you mumbled. “It wasn’t a big deal or anything.”

“It was a big deal.”

The drive home had been silent. The walk to the door had been as well. Bucky spent a few minutes appraising you in the overhead light of the living room when you got inside, but after that there was nothing. He went to his room and you went to yours.

There was no discussion about it the morning after, either. Bucky apparently wanted to pretend nothing ever happened, so you respected that. Even now, you ignored the fading cuts on his hands as he shoveled food into his mouth.

Bucky’s next words were muffled by a mouthful of bread. “Well where’s this dude taking you at least?”

“Ice skating.”

The cough and sudden exasperation was very expected out of the man next to you, Bucky’s next words hardly containing syllables. “Huh?”

“We’re going ice skating,” you reiterated. You picked up your lunch and headed for the living room, ignoring the slightly heaviness in your chest. “It’s winter and ice skating is festive. The rink on campus has decorations.”

“Without me? Y/n, you’re gonna let some guy who probably doesn’t even know how to skate—”

“Bucky—” you attempted to interrupt.

“—drag you around the rink like a rag doll?” he continued, holding his hand up to mute your incoming speech. “I’ve asked you to come by the rink, like, a ton of times. You’ve never shown any interest.”

You rolled your eyes and shot him a cross look as he picked your feet up from where they rested on the couch and dropped them into his lap. He went on with his rant for a little while longer, knocking his head back against cushions and accusing you of being a bad roommate. You had a few rebuttals of your own, but there was a reason you had never accompanied him to the rink.

A good reason.

You didn’t date athletes.

It was true that simply going to visit Bucky at a practice, or letting him be the one to drag you around the ice like a rag doll, wouldn’t mean you were in a relationship by any means. But it would be an extra step. And if you were being honest with yourself, it would only take a few of those extra steps for the irritation you felt towards Bucky to melt into something else.

And you didn’t date athletes.

You did not.

You didn’t have the time, nor the patience, to put up with the cheating, the anger issues, or the crazy schedules. And there wasn’t a single athlete you’d met at your sport-centered university that was willing to compromise on any of those subjects. Especially the cheating. You’d learned that the hard way after dating a lacrosse player for approximately one month before receiving the dreaded DM from a girl you had never met.

The man hadn’t even given you the courtesy of pretending he didn’t know what she was talking about. He just admitted to his wrong-doing and shrugged. Shrugged.

So athletes were not exactly in your good graces when it came to dating.

“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky cut through your thoughts, patting your shin in impatience.

You blinked and reoriented yourself, focusing on the hairs that fanned across Bucky’s face. “Of course I am,” you lied. “But my answer is still the same. I’m going on my date and you are not going on my date.”

He groaned, apparently giving up as he cradled your legs closer to him to lean over and grab the remote from the coffee table. He flipped the channel to ESPN—typical—and you ate your sandwich, silently cursing him. He had a TV in his room.

“When is it?” he suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had knitted itself into a comfortable blanket over the room.

“Tonight,” you answered plainly.

The arms atop your legs tensed.

The dichotomy of the man sitting beside you was impressive. On one hand, he was so full of himself that he had missed almost all of your conversation starters due to being so transfixed by his reflection in the rink’s glass. He had yet to ask you a single question about yourself and had insisted that the four other girls skating tonight were in love with him.

On the other hand, he was, quite possibly, the most uninteresting person you had ever met. You were usually very quick to laugh, but every word out of his mouth was almost painful. He wouldn’t stop talking about his ex-girlfriend, gave you one word answers about anything other than baseball, and was honestly really terribly at ice skating. You were no pro either, but you found yourself on your back every time he tried holding your hand.

The tumble five minutes ago had you seeking out the penalty box on the side of the rink. You needed a break, you had told him, hoping he would continue on making a fool of himself and give you a moment alone. But he followed you instead, and was now sitting beside you, talking about baseball.

You supposed that was better than making you fall while talking about baseball.

“I bet we could do that,” he remarked, pointing out onto the ice and catching your attention. A couple who clearly had more experience than you was twirling each other around. “We definitely could. I pick up good speed.” You cringed. “I really don’t think we should try, Sean. My tailbone is already pretty bruised.”

“Oh, c’mon! I won’t try the throwing part, just the twisty stuff.”

“We are literally on rental skates. You will kill me,” you deadpanned. You were tired at this point and seriously questioning why you thought ice skating was a good first date idea.

Well, there actually was an answer for that. But you were not going to think about the hockey player that popped into your head when Sean asked you on a date in the dining hall last week.

Definitely not.

“I’m not going to let my date think I’m boring,” Sean groaned, yanking you up from your seat.

You gave a few tugs and words of resistance but they were ultimately useless. You figured it would be just as useless to tell the guy you already thought he was boring. He probably wouldn’t even hear you.

On unsteady skates, Sean guided you to a mostly cleared corner of the rink and gripped your forearms. He squinted as he surveyed the area, the corner of his mouth turning up in a way that made your stomach roll. This entire date had been a bad idea.

“Maybe we should just watch them do it,” you tried, words wavering.

“No!” he grinned. “No, we got this. It’s gonna look so cool.”

And then you were spinning. You’d never been spun against your will before, but it sucked. Your skates kept getting stuck in the divots in the ice and the grip on your forearms was close to bruising. You were starting to get dizzy and Sean showed no signs of caring. God, he really was dragging you around the rink like a rag doll. Bucky was going to get a kick out of this.

“Okay, ready?” Sean called, an unwarranted jubilation in his tone.

“What?” you yelled.

He didn’t answer you. Instead, he let go, and you went flying in another direction without a clear path. It only lasted a moment, but the sound of your head smacking onto the ice signified the end of that movement. You landed on your arm next, and then your back. Again.

This time felt different though. Your head was spinning and there were muted pinpricks trailing up to your wrist. The ache there was dulled compared to the biting iciness in your back, but as soon as you tried leaning on it to get up, it became sharp.

“Oh shit!” came Sean’s laughter-filled gasp. “My bad. I really didn’t mean to let go.”

You blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from your vision but it proved unhelpful. “I think… I think my arm’s broken.”

“Wait, seriously?” he asked, wobbling down to a seat beside you.

“Yeah, it’s—”

“Everything okay over here?” a voice interrupted. You tried blinking again to take in the man that towered over the two of you, but the lights overhead washed him out.

You recognized him…maybe? You felt like you were going to throw up.

Sean answered for you. “Yeah, man, we’re fine. She just fell.”

“Y/n, are you okay?” the man asked, ignoring your date completely.

“Do I know you?” you slurred.

You thought you heard a curse. “What made you think throwing her around was a good idea?”

“Dude, it wasn’t even that fast. Or my fault. She just couldn’t keep her feet under her.”

“Well, dude, maybe you should go home.”

Sean scoffed. “Right, and who’s going to take this one home?”

Your head was starting to hurt with all of the back and forth. The man that just joined, the taller one, kneeled down beside you. His blonde hair cast a harsh glare that had you squinting again.

“You want me to call Bucky?” he asked.

Bucky? How would he know Bucky? Blonde hair began morphing into a man in your memory, and you reached for the material of his shirt, looping it between your fingers.

“Steve Rogers?” you mumbled.

The man, now identified as Steve, sighed. “I’m calling him. Go home, Sean. Her roommate is coming to get her.”

There was more discussion, something about Steve having the authority to kick him out and Sean not understanding what all of the fuss was about. Steve warned him about something and Sean scoffed as if the situation was beneath him. And then he left.

Steve was then in your line of sight again, brows pinched together and a bright orange vest covering his shoulders. His hands hovered in front of you as if you’d break if he touched you and you almost found it funny. Steve was a huge guy with a lot of authority on Bucky’s team, but right now he looked like a scared animal.

“Why are you dressed like a construction worker?” you asked.

A small smile graced his face. “I’m working at the rink today. Everyone on the team has to take shifts during the holidays.”

“Hmm,” you hummed. “I think my arm is broken.”

“I know. I’m pretty sure you have a concussion too. Let’s get you off the ice, yeah?”

You tried to nod, but that hurt too much so you let Steve assist you in shakily standing up. He guided you to the seats by the rental skate counter with a soft but sure hand on your back, asking some guy named Antonio for an ice pack. Everything around you felt like a fever dream.

Gentle touches rolled the sleeve of your sweater back to reveal a swollen wrist that Steve immediately covered with an ice pack.

He cursed again. “Well he’s gonna be pissed.”

“Who?” Your head swayed with the question.

Steve looked up to meet your gaze, lips parting to answer, when he was replaced by a different face. Your brain was having trouble keeping up with everything, obviously, because Bucky was in front of you now. He was kneeling between your legs with his hands on your face and you had no idea where Steve went.

“What the fuck?” you blurted out.

“Hey, y/n.” Bucky spoke your name low and soothing, his fingers moving to your eyes where he pried them open one at a time and looked for something you couldn’t see. His next words were directed over his shoulder. “Maybe a concussion. Tell me what happened again?”

“Sean Marcus was being an ass. Flung her all over the place,” Steve replied.

“Why are you here?” you interjected, trying to focus on one thing at a time. “I told you not to come on my date.”

Bucky moved his assessment to your arm next, shifting the ice pack. “Never really agreed to those terms.”

He turned back to Steve after that, having another discussion that you barely understood. Bucky absentmindedly fiddled with the material of your jeans as he spoke, and you put all of your energy into not face planting on the ground. This past week had truly been a series of terrible events with terrible men.

After some amount of time elapsed, you were walking to the parking lot with a jacket thrown over your shoulders and Bucky continuously jutting a hand out each time you took a step. He was very well versed in concussions, apparently.

“Okay, in you go, killer,” Bucky prompted, opening the passenger door.

You eyed the front seat, scrunching your face up. “My arm hurts.”

The man in front of you seemed to soften, his shoulders dropping on a long exhale. “I know, sweetheart. But we gotta go to the hospital to fix that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“I should just call Wanda. Or Nat. You don’t have to be the one to take me.”

“I can take you just fine.”

“Why do you want to you? Aren’t you busy?”

Another long sigh, this one accompanied by hands on your shoulders, fingers at the base of your neck. “Get in the car.”

His eyes were boring into yours, searching for something, or maybe already finding it there. You still had your arm cradled to your chest and you titled your head to the side as you observed him. There was something else to his gaze that you couldn’t quite describe. It reminded you of his expression after he came home from a rough game. Angry. Discontent.

“You’re being weird,” you commented, breaking the silence you had created.

“You broke your arm and smacked your head on the ice,” he simply replied, as if the statement was an explanation.

“Yeah, but—”

“And then that douchebag did nothing about it,” Bucky interrupted. “So please, y/n, get in the car so I can help you before I find him and kick his ass. Because you know I’m not above fighting people.”

You blinked, and then slid into the front seat.

The drive was quiet. You’d never been in Bucky’s car before, but the spinning in your head didn’t give you much space to inspect it too closely. You caught hockey gear in the back, a keycard to the rink dangling off the rearview mirror, and a small collection of hair ties in one of the cupholders. One caught your attention.

“Hey, this one’s mine.” You picked up the purple band and rolled it between your fingers. “Thief.”

Bucky snatched it back. “Mine now.”

He made a sharp turn that had you sucking air between your teeth and repositioning your arm. Bucky sent you a quick, achingly apologetic look.

“Sorry, almost there.” A long beat of silence and then a mumbled, “I should keep your hair tie. You won’t be able to do your hair alone with a broken arm anyway.”

Your wrist was fractured, not broken. You also only had a minor concussion. This was all great news to you, especially since they told you after administering a hefty amount pain reliever. To Bucky, this was apparently terrible, life-altering news.

After practically body slamming into the front door of your apartment, he chucked his wallet and keys down on the kitchen counter and began grumbling to himself as he opened and closed kitchen cabinets. You watched from a distance, half amused, half concerned for the rusting hinges. He finally found what he was looking for—a cup—and continued to mutter to himself as he filled it with gatorade.

“Are you… okay?” you asked tentatively.

Bucky ripped the freezer open and manhandled three to four ice cubes. “I’m fine. You are not.”

“I’m okay now,” you assured. Bucky stalked over to you anyways, pressing the sports drink into your hand that was not wrapped in a cast.

You looked down at the glass and sent him a baffled look. He nodded at it and raised his brows, a silent demand for you to drink.

“Okay. And why do I need to drink gatorade?” Your words were slow.

“You were just on the ice and haven’t had any water for at least three hours.”

“Bucky,” you began. “I was ice skating recreationally for about thirty minutes. I don’t need to replenish my electrolytes.”

“Will you just… will you just drink the damn drink?” he groaned, gesturing to it with a firm hand. “Jesus, I can’t take care of you when you go and get yourself hurt by idiots. So just let me do what I know I can do, alright?”

“You don’t have to take care of me.” You were beginning to raise your voice, matching some of the frustration in the room.

Bucky threw his hands in the air, tugging at his roots on the way down. He moved further into the kitchen and leaned against the counter with stiff, rod-like arms propping him up. And then he sighed, long and profound as if this was the hardest conversation he’d had all year. His head hung heavy between stiff shoulders and you felt the environment shift.

You almost wanted to intervene on his thoughts again, to make some comment about the dishes in the dishwasher or pretend you were going to go take a nap. But he had something to say, something you needed to hear, and so you stayed. You blinked and clenched your fist in the uncomfortable silence, but you stayed.

“Y/n, I want to take care of you,” Bucky breathed out, words still directed toward the floor, almost too low to make out. “I’ve been tryna get you to see that for weeks now, but you’ve either got no clue or you want absolutely nothing to do with me.”

You stopped blinking, stopped fidgeting, stopped breathing altogether. You watched as Bucky drummed his fingers against the counter and still refused to look up. You swallowed hard because you weren’t clueless, but also because you wanted everything to do with Bucky Barnes.

And nothing at the same time.

“Bucky…” you began, with a tone of surprise you weren’t sure was believable.

“Don’t do it yet,” he stopped you. “Don’t…don’t tell me no yet. I’m still pissed as hell that you got hurt and you shouldn’t be alone with a concussion. I don’t need you avoiding me when you can’t even drive a car.”

“You’re being presumptuous.”

He snapped his head up, his eyes rushing back and forth between your own. The drumming on the counter ceased, instead replaced by balled up fists turning white under days old cuts and fading bruises. He didn’t say anything. You searched the empty air for a reply.

“I wouldn’t avoid you. I don’t know if I could avoid you—not anymore. You’re sort of a big part of my life now.” A good start, you thought. Not a real answer, but not a rejection.

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and eyed the drink still perspiring in your hand. You set it down at his observance, moving closer to his slumped posture in the kitchen.

But Bucky stood up straight at your movement, becoming guarded, stiff. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Bad timing, just forget it. You should try and get some sleep.”

“I don’t want to forget it,” you softly spoke, shaking your head.

He clenched his jaw. “And I don’t want to hear that you don’t feel the same way about me that I feel about you. Not right now. I feel like I’m going insane, watching you go out on dates and having my best friend tell me that my girl—that’s not really my girl—is all banged up on the ice because of some asshole.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Bucky kept going, now pacing in the kitchen. “I mean, y/n, you’re my everyday. I wake up and you’re making coffee. You text me in class to ask what I need at the grocery store and then I call you after practice to make sure you got back to the apartment. I think about you so god damn much and I can’t believe there was a time in my life that I didn’t get to end my day in a home that has you. And you’re just my roommate. You want nothing to do with athletes, I get it—” he added, catching your eye in the middle of his rant, “—but, shit, I haven’t even looked at another girl since… well it doesn’t even matter.”

“Tell me,” you whispered. There were a million other things you could’ve said, a million explanations that would have made sense. But the two soft words stopped Bucky from tracking holes in the ground. They shoved him from his shallow breaths and made him look at you.

And, god, did he look at you. You must have been worse for wear. A hospital visit mixed with one too many tumbles onto solid ice probably had your hair in disarray and your face pressed with exhaustion, but his gaze was revering. Candy-coated red with soft blues melting below brows that fluxed with the movement of his lips; Bucky was beautiful, and he was looking at you as if you matched.

His tone confirmed as much, light and saccharin as he said, “That dumb movie a few weeks ago, the one about the superheroes. Your friends wouldn’t watch it with you so you made me. You were so excited even though it was awful and you were out like a light within the first hour. You rolled over onto me and I wasn’t gonna wake you up so I sorta just held you.”

He paused, trailing his eyes up to the light fixtures. “At the risk of sounding pathetic, it felt like I had you, you know? Like we were going through all our usual motions, but after I annoyed the hell out of you and you told me off, you were mine. I can’t… I can’t really picture that with another girl.”

There were very few times you had considered yourself speechless. But with Bucky Barnes standing in front of you, red-faced and vulnerable and still wearing the stupid hospital nametag they made him put on in the waiting room, you had no words. There was none of the arrogance you usually associated with him, no short-temper or pestering taunts. It was just Bucky, and he was pouring his heart onto the kitchen floor. For you.

“You get why you can’t tell me no just yet?” he asked, trying to get something out of you. Anything. “You can break my heart, but let me just make sure you’re okay first. And I can’t beat the shit out of Sean if we aren’t on speaking terms.”

The laugh that left you was one of disbelief, but the breathiness and accompanying tears fit the heaviness of the room. Your glossy eyes met Bucky’s and something flashed on his face, but it was soon out of your line of sight because you were kissing him. You were kissing him hard and your bodies were too close for the cast between you but it didn’t matter.

He didn’t respond at first, hand hovering at your back. But then he did and the cold linoleum of the kitchen floor was gone from your bare feet. He sat you on the counter, so gently, as if you were glass, and you let your hand brush against the cracks and divots of your home. The one that Bucky came back to every night to see you.

The one that had housed so many nights of confusion and longing and denial.

The one that had Bucky kissing the life out of you on the kitchen counter.

He pulled away first, forehead pressed to yours. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to do that.”

“You can do it again.”

“Oh, I will, baby.”

Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. There was so much you wanted to tell him, so many instances like the one he shared before where you were left questioning boundaries and feelings and lines. But, you figured, there would be so many opportunities to tell him. So much time together.

“I texted Wanda that night,” you shared, interrupting the kisses he was pressing to your cheek. “After I woke up and you had taken me back to my room.”

He smiled against your skin. “What’d you say?”

“I told her I was an idiot—that I was falling for the enemy.”

Bucky ran a soft hand along the back of your head, a smirk lighting up his face. He was slotted between your legs and kept his other hand firmly pressed onto the kitchen counter, caging you in, making sure your arm didn’t hit the cabinets.

“And is that true?”

“I don’t know,” you hummed, connecting your foreheads once again, wanting to stay impossibly close. “Try to cure my broken bone with gatorade again and we’ll see.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #marvel fanfiction #college!bucky

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rivatar · 2 months

Text

The Heat

MDNI!🔞

Pairing: Aged¡Up¡Neteyam x Fem¡Omatikaya¡Reader

Synopsis: Reader goes into heat and Neteyam being the good boy he is helps her ofc

Warnings: SMUT, breeding, cussing

A/N: Well guys I couldn’t contain myself from writing a reader in heat fic and y’all wanted Neteyam to be the lucky man so here ya go!🤭 Also sorry it’s taken so long! Hope you enjoy and Happy Valentines Day 💌

W/c: 2.5k

The day started off like usual. You woke up and got ready for the day, fixing your everyday beads into your hair and freshening up with some some oils. You were still living in your parents hut despite their efforts to get you married off, so in turn you had to do the same amount of work they did, maybe even more since they were getting older.

You had a good bit of chores to do today — helping your mother weave a couple more loincloths for your family, helping your little brother practice his English, and the timeliest chore of all, going to the outskirts of the forest to collect yovo fruit.

You’d decided to leave that chore for last, going in the afternoon soon after you’d had lunch with some of your friends. You asked if any of them could go with you to keep you company and help, but they all had their own things to do for today.

And so you started on your way, basket in hand and some supplies to help you with the picking. You figure it shouldn’t take you anymore than about 2-3 hours so you could be back in time to help your mother prepare dinner.

…

You knew you were over halfway there, you recognized a little pond that you’ve mentally noted as a halfway mark whenever you’d had to do this before. There was no sign of any Na’vi out here which was a little nerve racking but you knew how to protect yourself if there was any danger to come, having your bow on your back and knife on your hip.

Then you suddenly felt a sting in your lower stomach. Your ears perked up at the feeling but you kept walking, assuming it would go away.

But then you felt your temperature rise, sweat starting to form on your hairline. Your hands were clammy and you felt a bit dizzy. This made your heart drop because now was not the time to fall ill, though you were confident someone would come find you if you weren’t back by eclipse.

You found a rock and decided to sit on it and try to catch your breath. You were trying not to freak out but you didn’t know what was wrong.

The stinging was getting worse and turned more into a sharp aching, making you wince at the uncomfortableness. Your breath was quickly picking up and your mouth went dry.

You opted to kneel onto the ground, hunching over in pain. And then that’s when you realized — you must be in heat. These were all the tell-tale signs of a heat, which you had never experienced before.

You mentally cursed at the horrible timing. You knew you needed the Tsahik to help you but here you were, stranded in the deep forest.

It was rapidly getting more intense and you were losing all your thoughts. Your brain and body was turning to mush and your pupils dilated, you knew your control and rationality was slipping away.

Trying to find relief, you tugged off your loincloth and jeweled top. It cooled you down for a second, but only for the desperate need to keep spreading more intensely all throughout your body.

You knew what you needed and it was all that consumed your mind. You were no stranger to sex, you’ve had a few men. But this wasn’t about fun, casual sex — you needed to be bred and you felt it deep in your aching womb, as much as you would normally hate to admit that. But now you had no shame and were only focused on getting your sweet release.

…

Neteyam was out on patrol for the day and he didn’t mind this job. It consisted of walking near the borders and all around the uncommon areas in the forest. Usually he ran into no problems, so he didn’t complain about this duty. It was actually quite peaceful as it allowed him to be alone with his thoughts as he was out walking, still on high alert nonetheless.

He was just about to take a break from walking and dip his feet into a little pond he spotted when he smelled something unfamiliar. He didn’t recognize the scent but it was so good. His nose twitched as he tried to follow the sweet smell and then he heard a high pitch whine, like someone was in distress.

All his senses on alert, he carefully followed these distractions. And that was when he saw you.

He stumbled back in shock as he took in the scene before him. You were naked and drenched in sweat, straddling a large rock and grinding mercilessly on it, covering it in your juices and sweat. You were whining so much it looked like you were crying, clearly being tortured. And he recognized you, he knew your name and would see you out occasionally but that was about it.

As he was trying to process what his eyes were seeing, your scent crept up into his nose, even stronger and heavy in the air. Your eyes were screwed shut so you hadn’t noticed him yet until you smelled him—earthy and musky like a man.

Your eyes flashed open and head snapped to find him standing, a small whine escaping your lips.

“Y/n?” He breathed out shakily, as if he couldn’t believe it was you who was really in front of him doing this.

“Neteyam!” You shouted in relief. You were completely gone at this point.

His ears shot up at the sound of his name, though concern filled his eyes at your state.

“I need your help,” you cried, almost sobbing right then.

His eyes looked around still trying to process it all. He realized you were in heat and needed to see the Tsahik so she could give you medicines to ease the pain until it passed. But Eywa, you looked so good. After all he was only a man and had his limits too, even as the golden child. He gathered his thoughts and cleared his throat.

“Y/n, you poor girl,” he said sympathetically, “I’m so sorry this has happened out here. Let me carry you back to the tsahik, okay?”

“Nooo! Can’t wait! I need you to help me, you know what I need!” You whined to him.

He really did feel bad for you, you looked pitiful. And your scent was still continuing to attack his nostrils, getting him high on you.

You weakly crawled over to him and clung onto his leg. “Please!! I’ll do anything! I’m sorry- but please just help me!!” You laid your head tenderly against his calf as your body was slightly shaking and planted a kiss on his leg.

His eyes grew wide at your display of submission and neediness. You were breaking him quickly. He prided himself on his self-control and discipline, having been able to always do the right thing. But you were making him hungry with desire, he wanted nothing more than to indulge in you and give you everything you wanted right now. But what would his or your parents think? He needed to calm you down and get you to someone else before he crumbled completely. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

“Sweet girl,” he cooed softly looking down at you, though his eyebrows were scrunched up and jaw was clenching from his own internal war of trying to resist you. “I know it hurts but I can run fast, let me get you to help!” He reasoned and tugged your arms.

“Teyam NO! I need to be fucked right now!” Now you really were crying in desperation.

He finally lost his restraint at your vulgar plead. He crouched down to your level and held your face gently in his hands, seriousness sketched on his face.

“You’re not in your right mind,” he shook his head and you felt a pang of disappoint for a moment, “but I will help you. As you wish” he whispered tenderly.

You were ecstatic that he finally agreed. You nodded your head vigorously and pounced on him, losing your patience. He grunted as you both fell back and you landed on him. You ripped off his loincloth. You were not yourself at all but this wasn’t registering in your brain. You just knew you needed dick, now.

His pretty face looked surprised and taken aback by your straightforwardness but it was quickly replaced by his own desperation to have you.

You grabbed his dick and grinned from ear to ear, you were impressed with his size and couldn’t wait to have him in you. He propped himself on his elbows to watch you. You eagerly positioned him to your entrance, ready to lower yourself.

“Shit baby, just wanna get right to it, huh?” He commented and let out a weak chuckle, though he wasn’t really complaining.

“Mhmm, can’t wait Teyam” you whimpered.

He nodded his head in understanding and placed his hands on your hips to encourage you on. “Go on, sevin” he urged you. He knew you were using him but he didn’t mind and wanted to help you.

You sank down on him, marveling in the sensation. His cock gave the perfect amount of drag on your walls as you went lower and lower until your hips met. Both your jaws were slack and he groaned at the feeling.

“So fucking tight and wet” he grunted, “you’re gonna drive me crazy”

You moaned in response and tightened around him. He didn’t fail to notice you squeezing him after he spoke.

“You like what I’m sayin, huh? You like being talked to?”

“Yes, please!”

“Start riding me, take whatever you need.”

You wasted no time in obliging his request. You sat up and slammed back all the way down, taking all of him once again. You moaned in unison at the sweet friction.

Picking up the pace, you began bouncing on him. You planted your hands onto his chest for stability and he grabbed your wrists to hold them in place.

“F-fuck! Mmmm yeah, you’re doing so good, y/n” he praised you, urging you on.

You were a moaning mess above him, not even able to form words at the moment. His cockhead was hitting your cervix each time and the pleasure was consuming every nerve in your body. It was all you could think about.

You were creaming all over him, it coated his lower stomach and thighs, making unholy noises. You could feel your release approaching and he could feel his too, as his dick began to twitch inside of you.

“Teyam! Gonna- gonna cum!!” You announced to him.

“I know babe I know, do it!! I am too- shit!” He squeezed his eyes shut, his orgasm overtaking his body.

As soon as you felt his seed shooting into you and heard his low whimpers of pleasure, that was all you needed to get to completion too.

“Ahh! Fuck, fuckkkk!” You screamed so loud they could probably hear you back at the village. You convulsed around his length, milking him dry. You rode out your high on him, not even caring that you were overstimulating him as he was writhing on the ground below you.

You slumped onto him after you got what you wanted. Your bodies were sweating and slippery against each other, hearts pounding and panting into each others ears.

After a few seconds, you still felt the aching in your womb wanting more. You rose up to look at him and try to beg for more, hoping he would grant your request.

“You had enough?” He asked. He looked pussy drunk and you loved that it was yours that got him this way.

“No.. need more” you cried shamelessly and harshly sniffed his scent in like it was a drug.

“Okay sweetie,” he began as he secured you in his arms and rose up to his feet effortlessly. Eywa, he was so strong. “Let me fuck you properly. My way.”

He backed you up against a tree, still holding you up with his big, bulky arms. You knew he was muscular of course but you had never been this close to him. You went from barely being acquaintances to getting real close, real fast. It definitely would never be the same after this.

His length was already rock hard again, no doubt because of your strong pheromones suffocating him and putting him under your spell. By Eywa, you were making him an animal too. He wanted to make you cum over and over again, screaming his name.

He grabbed his dick with one hand and slid it across your abused, puffy cunt. He loved the sight and wanted this moment etched in his mind forever.

“So, so pretty y/n. You should’ve let me do this a long time ago. Guess I didn’t catch your eye” he stated jokingly.

“You’re the olo’eyktan’s son.. I figured you’d never have time for someone ordinary like me”

“Ordinary?? You just made me cum embarrassingly soon, I think that’s rather impressive and special” he chuckled. You laughed too. Gah, he was so handsome.

Bringing you out of your daze, he pushed his dick inside you. You were still wet with yours and his release so it glided easily. You instantly let out a long moan at being full of him again.

His ears were peeled back and he was biting his lip to try to suppress his own sounds of satisfaction. He was definitely pussy whipped.

He started his pace and it simply felt like heaven. Your pussy was already more sensitive from previously orgasming so the pleasure was intensified and downright addicting.

You were moaning and whimpering incoherently and he was watching your perfect, round tits bounce like he was in a trance.

“Damnit girl” he gritted through his teeth, struggling to keep any sort of composure “You’re so good. Doing so good for me”

He finally took the opportunity to kiss you on the lips. He was warm and sweet on your tongue, you let him take over your mouth and moaned through the kiss. You wanted to scream from the pleasure but he made you take his kiss.

You were getting near and he could tell by the way you squeezed him. He wanted to cum with you so he started jackhammering up into you, holding onto you so you wouldn’t fall out of his grasp from the aggressive thrusts flinging you about.

“Ohhhh! My Eywa! It’s too much!” You cried out, words broken up slightly from the air getting knocked out of you.

“You can take it! Cmon take it for me, sevin!” he pleaded desperately with you.

You came undone over him and shook violently. The pleasure coursed through every inch of you and you cried out his name over and over again. His name on your pretty lips was more than enough to push him over as well. He let out his load into you and pushed it all the way back to your cervix.

He crashed onto you and you were squished between the tree and his heavy, brawny body. You didn’t mind the squeeze though, you loved how huge he was and how small he made you feel.

He was lowly humming in satisfaction. Weakly, he lifted his head up to look at you, you were so close you were nose-to-nose. Both your expressions were of being fucked out and pure bliss.

His hooded eyes filled with lust searched your eyes. “Another round?”

…………….

Taglist: @professional-yapper @neteyamssyulang @nonamevenus

#atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar fanfiction #avatar smut #neteyam #neteyam x you #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam sully #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #james cameron avatar #atwow smut #atwow fanfiction #atwow neteyam

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ms-demeanor · 2 months

Note

This is regarding your post involving making friends. I have had a spectacular amount of failures in meetup groups, particularly involving men from multiple meetup groups trying to take advantage of me or using me. In addition to that, the other members of the groups tend are often quite rude. Also, many meetups in my area tend to fall into one of the following categories: professional seminar, mommy & me, or the other members are double my age or older. What would you advise?

Volunteering - find something you care about and see if there is a local volunteer opportunity; you might want to look into food banks or mutual aid projects.

Crafting - this will likely be an older crew, but making friends with older people is cool honestly.

Sports - see if there's a kickball league or some other variety of low-key sport that you can sign up for.

Get super into the local music scene. Go to bar shows, go to basement shows, go to backyard shows. If you go to places where they have local music and hang out a bunch you will get to know local music people eventually, which includes both people in bands and people interested in bands.

Become a regular at your local library. Go once a week at the same time of day and you'll start to get to know people.

Become a regular at something else local. If you go to the same coffee shop three times a week for a few months and are polite to the employees you will probably eventually have friends among the people there; even if you do this by walking around the neighborhood park at the same time of day you will start getting to know the park regulars people love habits and if you can become a chill part of their daily scenery they will eventually want to investigate further.

Start your own club of some kind. Maybe start a book club for a particular genre of book that you like, or start a movie group where you meet up to see a movie together twice a month. You can post things like this on meetup websites or facebook, but you can also make fliers to put up in places that you think people you might find interesting would hang out.

Join a gym and go regularly. Sometimes a random person you see all the time in a gym can go from being a reliable on-the-spot spotter to a good friend.

Take a class locally. See if your town has a community center that offers cooking classes or computer classes or any kind of classes even things you already know. I keep making jokes about improv but improv people are great; see if you can take an impov class. See if your local music store offers music classes (I made weirdly good friends with the folks at the music store where I took vocal lessons; this was a pleasant surprise!)

When you try any of these places make friendly smalltalk with the people you encounter and express interest in them. If you are speaking to employees, make sure you're giving them lots of conversational outs because attempting to befriend people who are working can feel like you're cornering them, I'd actually say don't try to befriend the employees at a business unless you go there and they attempt to befriend you, however as someone who worked in coffee shops for ten years if someone randomly started showing up for six hours a week I would almost certainly have gotten to a friendly shoot-the-shit level with them within a month; if you go out among people who are sociable and are around them enough sometimes the sociable people go "aha! new friend sighted!" and do the hard work for you, but you do have to go to places to let yourself be found by the sociable ones.)

I do not, generally speaking, use meetup groups as a generic thing as much as I look into what groups exist locally that I am interested in. If a local game store is running a weekly Magic tournament, that's a better place to meet people in my opinion than a one-time bowling event.

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heartateasee · 16 days

Text

“Sunkissed”

boyfriend!harry x you

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Oral sex (f receiving), hair pulling, size kink and unprotected sex

Plot: You and Harry are spending the day at the Masters, but he can’t wait to get you back to your airBNB.

⛳️ • ⛳️ • ⛳️ • ⛳️

Harry’s arm was tight around your waist as you smiled up at him underneath the Georgia sun. You had to tilt your head back a little further to see him under the brim of the hat of his that he insisted you wore to keep the sun off your head.

“Can’t have you getting too hot,” he told you. “There’s going to be some shade, but we’ll be out there all day. I’d feel awful if the heat made you sick.”

So you wore his dark blue cap with the Augusta National Golf Club logo embroidered on the front over the top of your ponytail that you pulled through the hole in the back. You were grateful that it matched the blue of the flowy, pleated athletic skirt you chose for the day - a white halter top hugging to your torso with sunglasses perched on your nose.

“You seem to be having fun,” you told Harry, and he returned your smile - dipping his head down to plant a kiss against your lips.

“Of course I am. I’m with my favorite girl, watching one of my favorite sports on this beautiful day,” Harry tapped his nose gently against yours before standing up straight again.

You couldn’t get over how good he looked. His hair that was steadily growing out was styled perfectly, and you couldn’t stop running your fingers through the front where it had grown out a little more than the other areas. Black Gucci sunglasses were pushed perfectly onto his face, and a dark blue pullover covered up his lighter blue polo.

“Glad I convinced you to not only wear that hat, but also this little number,” Harry stated as he tugged at the white cardigan that he talked you into bringing along. “I told you that you would maybe get chilly once we were out here.”

And he had been right. There was a little bit of wind, and if you were underneath the trees in the shade, it was quite cold.

“And you were correct,” you told him with a nod. “About both.”

He reached his hand down to glide over one of the globes of your ass - causing you to sink your teeth down into your bottom lip.

“You look so good today, baby,” Harry lifted his other hand to slide his sunglasses down so you’d be able to see his eyes as they trailed over you.

“Yeah?” You smirked as you curled into his side a little more, and you pressed onto your tiptoes so you were speaking into his ear. “How good?”

It was as if you could almost feel Harry shudder as you spoke, and then you felt a small squeeze on your ass cheek. “So good that I’m willing to miss seeing the last few golfers finish their rounds in order to get you back to the airBNB.”

Now you were the one who shuddered - a tingle festering in your spine as you knew what he was alluding to.

“Shall we have another cocktail and then go?”

“I think that’s a grand idea.”

⛳️ • ⛳️ • ⛳️ • ⛳️

You and Harry stumbled over each other as he unlocked the front door to the airBNB, and he was immediately tugging the cardigan off your arms - tossing it to the side with your cap soon following. His lips were attacking yours. Your mouths were filled with absolute lust and hunger, and you only disconnected them so that you could tug his pullover up and over his head. It was quickly discarded with the clothing he had already pulled from your body, but your hands were gripping to his biceps again in an instant.

He started walking the two of you backwards and into the kitchen, and you let out a mix between a squeak and a gasp as you found yourself draped over the cold marbled countertop.

“Look at your skin,” Harry hummed as his lips grazed the back of your neck - his body hovering lowly over yours. “All sunkissed from being on my arm all day. You like me showing you off to all those men? All those older men who know they can’t have you. And they can’t have you because you’re mine, yeah?”

“All yours,” you nodded, eyes struggling to look back at him from the angle he had you in.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised you with a kiss right below your ear before the pressure of his body on yours dissipated.

You were practically holding your breath as you waited for his next move, and you smirked as you felt him flip the back of your skirt up. You were wearing the tiniest thong you owned, and you knew that’s what elicited the groan that left Harry’s mouth.

“This perky little ass,” Harry’s large hands began to knead the rounds of your bottom, and you couldn’t help but moan at how good it felt just to have his hands on you.

But that’s how it always was. The slightest touch from him could have you wet in an instant.

And right now you were dripping.

Harry’s fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties, and your breath caught in the back of your throat as you felt his lips trailing down one of your ass cheeks as he lowered himself to the ground. His lips continued their assault onto the back of your thigh - teeth nipping to the junction of your knee before you stepped out of the underwear.

Harry was silent for a moment, and just when you were about to ask what was wrong, his mouth was pressing an open mouthed kiss to your cunt.

“Oh,” you whined, nails scratching against the counter top as you moved your head to rest your forehead against the cool surface. “Harry, you should let me take a shower first if you want to do that.”

You were met with a three finger smack to your clit once his lips left you - causing you to buckle at the knees.

“You’re silly if you think I don’t love it when you’re like this,” Harry scolded before you felt his tongue dragging between your folds. If you listened closely, you were sure you heard him smacking his lips. “Better than any fucking cocktail I had today.”

After that, he dove in full force. Licking, sucking and teeth grazing your clit as hands cupped right underneath your ass - Harry using his thumbs to keep you spread open.

Your whimpers and mewls bounced off the walls and the high ceilings, and you couldn’t help but to bring a hand behind you to tug at his hair. You earned yourself another groan from Harry as you pulled at his soft locks while pressing yourself slightly onto the balls of your feet.

It was everything you could do not to rut your eager pussy back onto his face, but you liked when he determined the pace at which he feasted on you. He had it down to a science at this point - you were convinced.

Once you felt one of Harry’s thumbs slowly enter you, you knew that you’d be succumbing to an orgasm soon. Your pulse quickened as heart shaped lips sealed around your aching bud, and the tip of his digit dipped in and out of you.

“Harry,” you whined, only gaining you a low hum in response that vibrated in the best way possible. “I’m about to come.”

Harry’s worship of your body only became more precise at your confession, and you felt your thighs starting to jump - the familiar pulling in your lower stomach growing tenfold.

Your climax washed over you faster than you could actually process that you were approaching it. Trembling against the counter, Harry didn’t let up until he knew the grip on his scalp was now one to pull him away - not one encouraging him to keep going.

With your chest heaving up and down, you pressed both hands against the counter to lift yourself a bit so you could look at Harry over your shoulder as he pushed himself off his knees.

His eyes held yours with his lips parted as he reached down to undo his belt. Once that was off, he quickly undid the button of his trousers, and pulled down the zipper. He pulled his leaking cock from above the waistband of his briefs, not even pushing his clothing down to his thighs so as not to waste anymore time.

“You ready for me, baby?” Harry breathed as he gave himself a couple of strokes. “‘M cock is begging to be inside you.”

“Please,” you laid back flat against the counter, and soon you felt Harry’s hand tugging at your ponytail before he wrapped it around his palm.

A gasp left you once you felt the pressure of his tip against your needy cunt, and it quickly turned into a moan as he pushed inside of you. You bit down on your bottom lip with a hum as he rocked his hips back and forth - getting you accustomed to his hefty size.

“Feels good,” you babbled subconsciously, and you heard Harry let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah? Like me teasing you with just a little bit first?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, eyes slipping shut as you basked in the warmth of him - one that was warmer than the actual sun you found yourself under with him all day.

“You’re already squeezing me so tight, Y/N. I don’t think I’ll be able to fit all the way.”

You knew he was just saying it to get a rise out of you. He liked it when you begged, and to be honest, you liked begging.

“No,” you pouted, eyes shooting open as you reached back to grab one of his wrists. “It will, I promise.”

“I don’t know,” Harry clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth as he shook his head, eyes flitting down to focus on where he was barely entering you. “Your pussy’s so tiny, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Squirming now, you had to keep yourself from stomping your foot on the ground.

“Harry, I don’t care if it hurts. I want it to,” you demanded, and his eyes met yours once again as you felt your own darken. “Make it fit.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smirk at that, and you knew you were going to get your way.

“Just remember,” Harry leaned forward to capture your lips in a searing kiss before letting them just hover. “You asked for it.”

With one full thrust forward, Harry’s hardened prick entered you completely. It pulled a garbled moan from you, and a lewd one from Harry as he stilled. Heavy breathing surrounded the two of you, and soon Harry began to massage his thumb into your lower back.

“You okay?” Even when in your deepest pits of lust, he always made it a point to check on you. It always made your heart soar no matter how blinded you could be with a hunger for him.

“Full,” you smiled as you made eye contact with him again.

He sent you a crooked grin, moving his hand down from your hip to give one of your ass cheeks a couple soft pats. “That’s my girl.”

Harry took this as his ‘okay’ to start moving, and he pulled all the way out to his tip before pushing in fully once more. From there he started up a fluid pace, his eyes honed in on the jiggling of your ass every time it met his pelvis.

“God, I wish you could see what I get to see,” Harry’s hold on your ponytail tightened, and he began to pull it just the tiniest bit to have your torso barely meeting the marble underneath. “Taking me so fucking well, baby. Soaking my cock.”

The sounds of your arousal filled the kitchen, and with the way that Harry was hitting your spot just right, you knew your second orgasm was just a few thrusts away.

“Already gonna come again?” Your jaw went slack as Harry’s movements picked up, and you wondered if this was the deepest you had ever felt him. “About to push me out - you're squeezing me so hard.”

“Fucking me so good, Harry,” you moaned deliriously. “So big.”

Harry gave your ponytail another swift tug, and soon your back was meeting his chest. He bent his legs just a bit so he could fuck up into you at a better angle - his hand falling from your hair to reach down and play with your clit.

“I knew you could take it,” Harry sponged a kiss against the side of your neck. “Just wanted to have you beg a little bit.”

“I know,” you nodded before dropping your head back onto his shoulder. “I like begging.”

“You’re the most perfect girl, you know that? ‘M so fucking lucky to have you like this,” his other hand left your hip to caress one of your breasts through your top. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Harry,” you whimpered as you leaned your body back into him even more as you felt euphoria creeping up on you again. “Oh god.”

Your second orgasm took over completely, and Harry quickly wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you steady and upright. His fingertips continued to circle your slick pearl until he knew he had worked you all the way through it.

You took his hand away from your mound, placing yours on top of his and loosely linking your fingers together as you pressed his palm against your lower stomach.

“Feel,” you told him breathlessly, and Harry choked out a moan as he felt his tip bulging out against his skin.

“That deep, yeah? I’m about to get you all nice and full with my come - tucking it all the way up in there for you.”

“I want it,” you nodded. “Please, Harry. Fill me up.”

That’s all it took for Harry’s jaw to drop, and you felt his prick pulsing inside of you as he started to do just that. You could feel his orgasm coating you from the inside - causing goosebumps to cover your skin.

“Fuck me,” Harry sighed as he rested his forehead against your temple. “That was so good.”

“It was,” you agreed, giving his hand a squeeze. “But you’ve tired me out. We’re going to have to have a lazy day tomorrow.”

Harry chuckled as he pulled his head back to properly look at you as your eyebrows narrowed with confusion. “Baby, today was just the first day,” he sent you a soft wink before pushing his hips forward, causing you to gasp as his tip brushed your delicious spot one more time.

“We’ve got three more days of this.”

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miguelhugger2099 · 21 days

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Not a Fanboy!Miguel who often liked the classics he grew up with—the ones his mom played every weekend.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who liked the singers, men and women alike, who now were as old—if not, older—as his mom so he never got around to be going to concerts.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel that never kept up with recent celebrity drama or news. Oh, some current singer just won 6 Grammys? Good for her. Oh, this rapper held the top spot on the charts for weeks? Nice.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who lives under a rock. But his brother doesn’t.

Fanboy!Gabriel who’s always been into music as his hobby. Ranging from in the States to Overseas. Old and new alike.

Fanboy!Gabriel who BEGS Miguel to take him to this concert of this girl group that came around.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who’d rather die than drive and park around Nueva York for ONLY three hours.

Fanboy!Gabriel who makes a compromise that Miguel could come too! Even walk around Nueva York for some food.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who can’t say no to his baby brother.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who is absolutely exhausted after walking around the arena, Gabriel greeting and handing out freebies to other fans like him.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who ends up at a coffee shop where Gabriel shoo’d him away to. Telling him to grab two cold drinks while he waits in line.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who groans internally when he sees the line. Someone behind him groaning outwardly.

He turns his head to see some woman—you—, hat on top of your head and hoodie draped around you. Pieces of your hair fall on the side of your cheeks that frame your face. A mask covering the lower half of your face and you’re in sweats. Your eyes meet his.

For a moment you look panicked but you stay still.

Miguel looks back at the register, some old man being extra specific with his drink and food order. He then glances down at you again.

“Hopefully the next ones won’t be as stingy with what they want.” He comments. He notices the eye bags under your eyes.

He can tells you smiles by the ways your eyes creased. “Yeah. Hopefully.”

By the time it was his turn, he looks over his shoulder. “What did you want?”

You’re taken aback. “Oh, uh—“

“I’ll pay for it.” Miguel figures you’ve had a long day and felt that he could help.

He flusters you, your hands bringing down your mask to relay your order to the nice cashier girl. Miguel glances down your lips subconsciously, noticing the gloss over them.

It’s only for a few seconds and you pull it over your face again as quickly as possible. Miguel looks around the place. You were acting strange—was someone following you? Were you okay?

He waits beside you at the side of the counter and he bends down at your level. “Are you okay?”

You let out a gasp of surprise, jumping a bit back but smile and laugh nervously. “Ah, fine. Thanks for asking.”

“You sure? Is someone stalking you?”

You look at his eyes, scanning his face for something he’s not quite sure you’ll find. Miguel visibly sees you relax.

“No, no. I’m just on a tight schedule, is all.” You laugh more real this time.

Miguel stands up again. “I know the feeling.” The corner of his lips turn up.

His drinks gets called out first and he takes them both in his hands, taking a sip from one of them.

“You ordered…two?” You ask. Miguel nods.

“For my brother. We’re here for some concert thing he wanted to go to.” He shrugs. You hold your giggle back.

“I take it you’re not interested?” You ask with amusement. Miguel snorts.

“Hardly.” He takes another sip from his cup. “Hopefully I never have to walk around Nueva York again just for some girl group.”

You shrug. “Hopefully.” You agree with him, a smile heard just by your tone.

The conversation is cut short once your drink is called. Miguel finding the way you hum in delight to be amusing. You thank him for the drink, offering once more to pay for it back but he refuses.

Miguel doesn’t notice your manager approaching you, fussing over you and ushering you back into your van.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who enters the arena with his brother. Gabriel had done every hack possible to make sure he got seats close enough.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who sits with his arms crossed, yawning and leaning his head back to sleep.

But he couldn’t do that when Gabriel shakes him awake. It’s starting!

The giant screens zoom in on each of the members faces and Miguel nearly falls out of his seat when you show up last.

He notices your eyebags are gone. Completely disappeared with makeup. Glittering eyes with a cute puppy eyeliner and false eyelashes. Your hair in a style that stays still even while dancing. The same glossy lips that sing angelically.

Fanboy!Miguel who grips his seat, feelings his heart flutter when you wink at the camera, blowing kisses to the fans in his general direction.

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader

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writingwithcolor · 28 days

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Desi Parenthood, Adoption, and Stereotypes

I have a story set in the modern day with supernatural traces, with three characters: a young boy, his bio dad, and his adoptive dad. The boy and his bio dad are Indian, the adoptive dad is Chinese. The bio dad is one of the few people in the story with powers. He put his son up for adoption when he was a child because at the time he was a young single father, had little control of the strength of his powers: he feared accidentally hurting his child. The son is adopted by the other dad, who holds spite to the bio dad for giving up his son since he lost his father as a young age and couldn't get why someone would willingly abandon their child. This also results in him being overprotective and strict over his son. When the child is older, the bio dad comes to their town and the son gets closer to him, which makes the adoptive dad pissed, mostly acting hostile to the other guy, paranoid that he'll decide to take away the child he didn't help raise. Later when they get closer he does change his biases. I can see the possible stereotypes here: the absent father being the darkskinned character, the light-skinned adoptive dad being richer than the bio dad, the lightskinned character being hostile and looking down on the darkskinned character, the overprotective asian parent, the adoptive dad assuming the bio dad abandoned the son. The reason for his bias isn't inherently racist, but I get how it can be seen that way. Is there a way to make this work? Would it be better to scrap it?

Two problem areas stand out with this ask:

You seem confused with respect to how racial stereotypes are created, and what effect they have on society.

Your characterization of the Indian father suggests a lack of familiarity with many desi cultures as they pertain to family and child-rearing.

Racial Stereotypes are Specific

Your concern seems to stem from believing the absent father trope is applied to all dark-skinned individuals, when it’s really only applied to a subset of dark-skinned people for specific historical/ social/ political reasons. The reality is stereotypes are often targeted.

The “absent father” stereotype is often applied to Black fathers, particularly in countries where chattel slavery or colonialism meant that many Black fathers were separated from their children, often by force. The "absent black father" trope today serves to enforce anti-black notions of Black men as anti-social, neglectful of their responsibilities, not nurturing, etc. Please see the WWC tag #absent black father for further reading.

Now, it’s true many desis have dark skin. There are also Black desis. I would go as far as to say despite anti-black bias and colorism in many desi cultures, if one was asked to tell many non-Black desis from places like S. India and Sri Lanka apart from Black people from places like E. Africa, the rate of failure would be quite high. However, negative stereotypes for desi fathers are not the same as negative stereotypes for non-desi Black fathers, because racially, most Black people and desis are often not perceived as being part of the same racial group by other racial groups, particularly white majorities in Western countries. Negative stereotypes for desi fathers are often things like: uncaring, socially regressive/ conservative, sexist. They are more focused around narratives that portray these men as at odds with Western culture and Western norms of parenting.

Desi Parents are Not this Way

Secondly, the setup makes little sense given how actual desi families tend to operate when one or both parents are unable to be present for whatever reason. Children are often sent to be raised by grandparents, available relatives or boarding schools (Family resources permitting). Having children be raised by an outsider is a move of last resort. You make no mention of why your protagonist’s father didn’t choose such an option. The trope of many desi family networks being incredibly large is not unfounded. Why was extended family not an option?

These two points trouble me because you have told us you are writing a story involving relationship dynamics between characters of both different races and ethnicities. I’m worried you don’t know enough about the groups you are writing about, how they are perceived by each other and society at large in order to tell the story you want to tell.

As with many instances of writing with color, your problem is not an issue of scrap versus don’t scrap. It’s being cognizant of the current limits of your knowledge. How you address this knowledge deficit and its effect on your interpretation of your characters and the story overall will determine if readers from the portrayed groups find the story compelling.

- Marika.

I have one response: what? Where are the father’s parents? Any siblings? Is he cut off? Is he American? A Desi that has stayed in India?

Estrangement is not completely out of the question if the father is Westernized; goodness knows that I have personal experience with seeing estrangement. But you haven’t established any of that. What will you add?

-Jaya

#Black #Indian #South Asian #Desi #absent black father #stereotypes #tropes #adoption #colorism #research research research #parenting #strict Asian parents #Asian families

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myhappylittlesideblog · 1 month

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Gotch-yer Back

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Violence, Walker death, other TWD character death (Amy), Daryl being a bit of a jerk and then fixing it, let me know if there's anything else! Basically what seems to be regular TWD fanfic warnings. Also I believe this is only Fem!Reader because he calls Reader "girl."

Summary: A retelling of the night walkers attack at the quarry and how you and Daryl help each other deal with the aftermath.

You tried to remember the last time you’d eaten fish. It had been a while, a few weeks maybe? A few long weeks forcing yourself to eat squirrel or a rabbit if you were lucky. Or if you were unlucky, even snake. You’d eat whatever was caught if you were hungry enough, or simply to stay alive another day.

Fish was a delicacy these days. The girls- Amy and Andrea had caught a load of them in the quarry. It was white fish which had always been your favorite. It was easy to cook and fell apart in yummy flakes. Hell, you didn’t even need a fork.

It was hot in your mouth and the heat of the meal radiated in your belly. The group chewed and chattered while you were lost in your own thoughts. Your mother used to make a great dish when you lived with her. Cod with a breading on top that was made with Ritz crackers. You missed her. You missed her cooking. You wondered where she was now-

Everyone laughed suddenly and the sound made you jump.

“William Faukner,” Dale said, smiling.

Lori reached over Carl and rested a comforting hand on your arm. Understanding glowed in her eyes in the firelight. Loud noises always made you nervous these days.

By the time you saw the pan of fish that had been passed around, the last filet was being pulled out of it by a stabbing fork.

“Shouldn’t we save some?” you asked Lori. “The guys’ll be back soon.”

“We’ll catch some more tomorrow,” Andrea said to you, catching your attention from a few seats down.

“Yeah,” Amy said. “We’re pros.”

Despite the light conversation, Lori looked grim. You and her seemed to be the only people worried about the men who’d gone off to find Merle and the bag of guns that was left in the street in Atlanta. She had her arm around Carl as he munched and grinned at Dale. You couldn’t imagine how she was feeling about her husband’s return, nevermind his volunteering to lead the charge back into one of the most dangerous places in this new age. He’d just gotten back. It was written all over her face as she gazed into the flames of the fire.

You weren’t a fan of Merle. In fact, you disliked him thoroughly. The pit in your gut surrounding his abandonment had nothing to do with his safety, or his life, but with Daryl’s. You weren’t even sure if you liked the younger Dixon either. He seemed to follow too closely in his brother’s footsteps to be safe or dependable. Or even nice. But you did respect him. After all, he’d helped to keep you safe and almost single handedly kept the group fed with his hunting and tracking skills.

Still, no. He wasn’t very nice.

You had a feeling, however, that you had his respect in return. It only took a few crude remarks from Merle for you to fire back at him with enough force to keep him off your back for a few days. Daryl apparently hadn’t been too far away that day and had heard your reply to Merle’s degrading comments.

“Impressive,” he’d said. “For a quiet girl.”

The next time Merle got colorful with his words towards you, Daryl was the one to take the heat for you. Told his brother to quit it. Since then, your relationship with the older Dixon was extremely minimal and even when it was forced, he left you alone.

Though you wouldn’t have missed Merle one bit, you watched Daryl take the news of his desertion when the cop- Rick- told him what had happened on the supply run. While you of course expected fury from Daryl, you hadn’t expected such emotion to fly out of him. He was a wrecking ball of threats and fists with tears running down his dirty cheeks. It was sad.

He must have seen the pity in your face then. When you called to him, tried to calm him down and move him away from Shane, he’d shoved you. “Get lost, girl.”

Needless to say, the men in this group were difficult. But at least the others were in the group. Daryl was on the outskirts of it and without his brother, it would be too easy for him to get thrust out. While you didn’t want that, you knew it was also vital for the survival of the group for him to stay. You had a feeling he wasn’t as impenetrable as the armor he wore.

You were worried about Daryl. You were also worried about Glenn and T-Dog, and Rick- Lori and Carl included. And as you sat there before the fire, you wondered what the hell would happen if Merle returned.

That was when you heard Amy scream. You didn’t recognize the sound at first, it was so sudden and so loud. It was a cry of anguish and fear. One that begged for help.

After that, it was chaos.

You turned over your shoulder, watching Amy and her assailant, even pondering for a split second who had snuck into the camp. What stranger would go after a girl just trying to go to the bathroom. But of course, it wasn’t a who. It was a what.

“Get behind me!” Shane roared.

You knew there wasn’t time. Reaching into your pocket, you grabbed the unfamiliar hunting knife you had with you and unsheathed it. You stepped over the log you’d been sitting on, away from the fire, but also further away from Shane and the safety of his gun, towards one of the geeks. It wasn’t just ugly and rank and dead, it was terrifying. The look of it, the smell of it made your stomach sink so far, it felt like it’d fell out of your body.

It snarled and gnashed its mouth at you while its thin, wiry fingers reached for you, but all the while, you focused on its hair. It was the same in death as it was in life- long locks of protein that couldn’t hurt you. Harmless. So you aimed your knife there.

In the brain, in the brain, it has to be in the brain, don’t you know anything-

The thing stopped once your knife sunk into its skull. Its arms dropped to its hollow sides and its lifeless eyes looked at you, long enough to send a shudder through you before it dropped to the ground, taking your one and only weapon with it.

“Get up here! Come to the RV!” you heard.

There were more screams, the thunk of childhood baseball bats slamming into hard skulls, the echoing sound of gunshots. Closer to you, though, and more urgently, there was deep guttural snarling, groaning and gurgling- the sound of the dead coming for you.

Shane had brought the children to the RV, safe, their backs leaning against the cold metal. Lori and Carol were there, Jim was at the treeline with his bat, Andrea on the ground with- with Amy. Amy’s body. You were alone. In the middle of the chaos, too far from any other living humans to take any aid.

“(Y/N)! Get up here! Jim!” Shane’s voice was hoarse.

You dove for your knife, yanking it out of the walker’s head with a squelch. You could only manage three or four steps up the hill before another undead was upon you. It was too close, its long nails a hair’s breadth away from your bare skin and its decaying teeth lunging closer with every stride. Again, you had to gather all your strength, grip your knife tight and focus- be calm enough to aim for the enemy’s brain. You had one chance, or you’d turn into one of them.

Carl would have to see it, Sophia, Lori. Daryl.

You grunted with the effort and the tip of the knife hit home and sunk into the geek’s head. This time you were able to free your knife before the thing fell to the ground. You scanned the land in front of you, looking for more threats. There were so many bodies on the ground. Bodies of people from your group, people that you’d gotten to know. They were lying still now. Leaking onto the dirt.

Then an arm wrapped around your middle and dragged you uphill. You screamed and thrashed, but whatever had you was strong.

“It’s me,” his voice rasped in your ear.

It immediately calmed you. You held onto Daryl’s arm as if it were a buoy saving you from drowning in gray, storming waves of a murderous ocean. He led you to the others near the van and deposited you there before letting go of you.

He was back. You saw Rick, T-Dog and Glenn, all in various states of emotional disrepair, but Daryl just looked around, calmly taking in the carnage.

“Daryl,” you said to him, “you okay?”

“Whaddah you think?” he snarled. “Ya see mah brother anywhere? Huh?”

So the moment was short lived. You ignored whatever he said next, running your hand along the outside of the RV, using it as a crutch as you moved to check on Carol and Sophia, then on Lori. You didn’t have it in you to survey much more than that. You trembled from the inside out and watched Rick hug his little boy as tears streamed down his face.

At least they were back.

It was somewhat painstakingly decided that you would all save the cleanup for tomorrow morning. The survivors had vans or tents to escape into. To leave the dead outside. Except for Andrea. One look at her- that was all you could handle- and you knew she wasn’t going to leave her sister any time soon.

You fell to your knees, jeans sinking into the soft dirt and stared into the flames of the campfire that was still burning strong. It was only then you found the hunting knife still in your tight grip, crusted over with brown, lumpy goo. At that point in the night, you couldn’t understand exactly what the remains were and for that, you were grateful. The bit of blade still showing reflected in the light coming from the pit, shades of orange and red glowing between your fingers.

Shane crouched beside you and though his landing was silent and agile, you jumped.

“S’alright,” he said, taking the weapon out of your scrunched hand. “Lemme clean it.”

“I can clean it,” Daryl grumbled from above, snatching the knife from Shane. “S’mine anyway.”

Shane let it happen, concentrating on you. He carefully set a hand on your shoulder. “Ya did good,” he said.

“You too,” you answered, like a little league pitcher on the losing team.

He stood and put his hands on his hips. “Try ta get some rest,” he said from the air.

You nodded.

Only when Shane was gone, did Daryl move closer to you. He sat on the ground and leaned back against the log the group had been using as dinner seats less than an hour ago. He sat back for a while, leaving you to watch the flames die down as he worked one of his rags into the crevices of the hunting knife. Slowly, you heard the others of the group- those living- say goodnight to each other and slide into their respective dwellings for what was left of the evening.

Distantly, though he sat just beside you, you heard Daryl speak. “S’right bout one thing.”

“Hm?”

“Ya did good. I saw ya when we were runnin’ up the hill. Doin’ what I told ya to do.”

You turned to him, but he wasn’t looking at you. Your feet stung under you, asleep after kneeling on them for so long, as you moved to sit on your bottom next to Daryl. He turned the cleaned knife in his hand before passing it you, handle out.

You shook your head. “It’s yours.”

He plopped it on your lap. “S’yours now. I gave it to ya. You’ll need it.”

You didn’t want to need it. He knew that too. All the same, it was a good thing he’d left it with you when he went to Atlanta. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting next to him right now. Speaking to him. Feeling the heat that didn’t just emit from the fire, but from him by your side as well.

“Thank you,” you said, sliding the knife back into its sheath and into your pocket, where you hoped it would stay, unneeded for a long time. Or at least for the rest of the night.

You turned to him, but again, he wasn’t looking at you. He rarely did. But you knew he was still there, still with you by the way his head tilted towards you. Like he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. As if you were a deer in the forest, ready to bolt away from him at any moment.

“I’m sorry you didn’t find Merle.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah right. You hate Merle.”

“Hate is a strong word,” you said.

He chuckled- a grim, gruff sound deep in his chest.

You watched him, feeling free to do so since he so rarely looked you in the eye. He was biting the inside of his lip over and over and picking at his fingernails.

You waited.

He peeked at you, inhaling deep. “Didn’ mean ta snap atcha. Earlier.”

When he yelled, you thought. By the RV, after he’d pulled you to safety.

You nodded. “S’alright. It’s been a tough day all around.”

Humming in agreement, he turned back to the fire. You two were square now. But you also hoped he knew that if he snapped at you like that again, you wouldn’t be so quick to forgive.

There was a flapping from above that shook the leaves in the trees. It was a soft, peaceful sound of nature, but after this night, in this new world, it startled you to your core.

“Just a bird,” Daryl said.

You sucked in a breath that made your lungs quake in your chest. “I’m sick of being so scared all the damn time,” you mumbled, tipping your head forward, holding your face in your hands. Things had only been like this for two months? Three? And you were already exhausted, tired of it all. How much longer could you take? Or, how much longer would it take for you to just-

Daryl stood. “Come on,” he said. He waved toward his tent. “Gotta getcha away from this damn bloodbath ‘er you’ll never calm down.”

You violently shook your head. “I can’t- I don’t wanna be alone-”

He was already walking toward the tent he shared with Merle. “Yer stayin’ with me. So I know where ya are.”

Your system went from fight or flight to frozen. He- Daryl- wanted you- where? After every shove and snap and swear towards you, now he wanted you to come with him? To be in his space? Overnight?

You stared at him. He tossed his crossbow into his tent, lifting the flap and heading inside when he turned back and saw you still on the ground in front of the fire.

“Or do ya wanna stay out here alone?”

“No.”

“Then get off yer ass.”

You scrambled to your feet and scurried to the tent’s flap. You felt like a scolded child, like your dignity had been left in the dirt, but you didn’t care. After the walker attack, you couldn’t be alone and you had been trusting Daryl with your life for weeks now, not that you’d ever tell anyone that. You felt the safest when you were with him. Tonight you needed that. Especially tonight.

“Ya can take that side,” Daryl mumbled, pointing.

The tent was small. Big enough to stand up in, but not very wide. There were two sleeping bags strewn out close to each other with a lumpy pillow on each. He tossed an extra blanket onto the side he told you to take. It was the one with the crossbow at its foot. And you recognized his cut off flannel shoved into the duffle beside it.

“I can’t take your bed.”

“Ain’t a bed,” he said, spreading the other sleeping bag open flat and sitting on it.

“Well, I can’t take your bag.”

“Would you rather stick your face in Merle’s pillow all night?”

You grimaced, thinking of the monster of a man and what he’d probably done to that innocent pillow.

“Thought not,” Daryl said. He grumbled it, but you heard the smirk in his voice.

“The definition of ‘pick your poison’,” you said, crouching to sit on the soft sleeping bag.

“Girl-” Daryl said, swatting at you as he rolled over, putting his back to you.

You swung back, smacking his shoulder. “I was kidding.”

In answer, he gave another blind swat, making you giggle.

You laid back into the double layer of sleeping bag, enjoying the way it was cool to the touch underneath you. The pillow, though thin, felt nice when you situated it under your head the way you liked it. Everything around you smelled like him- gas, grease, cigarettes- yes, but something else too. It wasn’t a bad smell, just a natural one. Just Daryl.

You were laying on your side, facing him. You watched him sink into the darkness as you spun the dial on the lantern until it turned off. Dark, though it was, you could still see his form clearly. Not sleeping yet.

“Thank you, Daryl,” you said.

He grunted, flopping to lay on his back and folding one of his arms under his head. “Get some sleep.”

It was then you realized how small the tent really was. When he laid on his back, his leg could almost touch your knee as you curled up on your side. He was an enigma, alright, you thought. Couldn’t bear to look you in the eye, saved your life, snapped at you in front of everyone and now slept beside you like it was nothing.

You sighed, following suit and laying on your back too. “Don’t think I’m gonna be able to catch much of that,” you said.

His pillow rustled as he looked toward you. “What the hell happened there?” He took your hand from where it rested over your forehead and studied the angry red scrapes and purple bruising on your knuckles. “This happen tonight?”

“No,” you said, taking your hand from his grasp and tucking it under you, embarrassed. “Happened earlier.”

“How’d you bust it up like that?”

“I, um… I just hurt it. Against Ed’s face.”

Daryl gave a laughing hiss. “I saw his face. You did that?”

“Some of it. Shane did the rest.”

“Fuck yeah.”

“He had it comin’,” you said, barely finishing the last word and regretting saying anything at all. Ed may have deserved a few punches, hell, he deserved jail time. But what happened to him tonight- eaten alive, alone- you weren’t sure anyone deserved that. It made your stomach roll in your gut and you stung with shame.

“Fucking badass, girl,” Daryl said.

It was quiet in the dark for a long moment.

“M’not, Daryl. I’m just fucking scared.”

There was more rustling beside you as Daryl shimmied around on his sleeping bag.

“Turn over. That way,” he said.

You did as he told you, laying on your side with your back to him. His body moved up against yours, his heat blooming on your shoulders, bum, and the backs of your legs. A little too forcefully, he lifted your head to slide his arm underneath and cradle you close.

“Ain’t nothin’ gettin’ in this tent tonight. I gotch’yer back. You can handle your front.”

You nodded, feeling tears gather in your eyes. Your cheeks were hot, as though they were on fire as you cried, finally letting out the emotion of the evening. The death, the kills, the fear, and the relief all ran down your face and into your shirt or onto Daryl’s pillow or his arm supporting your head. As your breath caught, he reached around you with his free arm, hugging you close and rubbing his thumb on the skin of your injured hand. You grasped him hard. You needed to.

Before this night, you weren’t sure what you thought of the younger Dixon brother. He was rough and nasty and you wondered just how much he took after Merle. Before this moment, you thought he’d run for the hills if you ever touched him with one single finger, nevermind your whole body- your whole being like you were now. But he was there, still with you and unbothered. Safe.

“Sleep,” he mumbled.

You nodded, squeezing his hand again before letting it go and allowing your body to relax against his. And eventually, in his arms, listening to his steady breath, you slept.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fluff #Daryl dixon twd #twd #twd fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #the walking dead

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ego-meliorem-esse · 7 months

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July 13th, 1917

Be it from a sense of paternal concern or simply patriotic duty, Arthur made sure to leave his soldiers in the charge of an older Corporal and made his way to the quite pathetic excuse of a medical section where his son was left to rot.

Arthur had heard about the attack. He had been informed the day prior.

He had seen war and famine and sickness, but never like this. Arthur wasn't young, in any sense, and what wonders and strong political oppinions young men had, had left him a long time ago like a ship leaving the harbour in a hury to claim new land. This though, had left shock echoing within his tired, millenia old frame. He wasn't used to this.

Arthur made his way through the trenches with soldiers from every corner of the globe instantly stopping whatever they were doing prior and saluting him as if etiquette and rank mattered in hell. As if it was more importaint to greet the Higher ups than to survive long enough to even write a letter back to family. Arthur did understand that though. Routine and rules were the only thing keeping these poor and wretched souls from being consumed by thoughts of an imminent death.

The path to the section where Matthew was held was quite straightforward and quite familiar. He had marched to and from it hundreds of times and had a sort of automatic rithm in his step. Arthur made his way to the small and damp room with a fast pace indicative of familiarity, only to stop in his tracks in the shabbily built doorframe at the sight that awaited him in the corner.

Matthew sat in the corner of the sad makeshift medical section of the trenches, his back firm against the cold, damp wall.

His once-piercing blue-grey eyes were now clouded over with milky white cataracts, rendering him completely blind. The newly used gas had stolen his sight. His skin, once tanned and healthy, now bore the sickly pallor of a much older man who had endured unimaginable suffering.

Matthew's uniform, discarded in favour of his worn down undershirt, was now a tattered and stained relic of his time in the trenches. The not-white-anymore shirt clung to his emaciated frame as if decency still mattered in hell. The physical toll of the war was clear on his body. Not that Matthew would have to worry about seeing that any time soon. His hands, which had once held a rifle with resolve, now trembled even while resting on his thighs.

Despite his physical and emotional anguish, Matthew remained seated upright, his back pressed against the unforgiving, stained wall. A testament to his resilience if there was any left, a silent protest against the horrors that had taken his sight and left him broken in body and spirit.

As he sat there, his spirit reduced to a hollow shell, Matthew's face bore a mixed expression of utter defeat and complete indifference. His lips were drawn into a thin, lifeless line, and his cheeks were gaunt from the weight of his suffering. His blank, unseeing eyes stared into the abyss, as if waiting for answers and also hoping they'd never arrive.

In that moment, Matthew was not a representation of Canada; he was a young man who had been scarred and broken by the senseless brutality of war. The trenches around him buzzed with activity, but he remained isolated in his silent world of darkness and despair. The young medics job was done. He had patched Matthew up and left him to his own misery. Matthew was grateful.

Arthur stood there silently under the doorframe for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few seconds. A strange and unfamiliar twinge of emotion plucked and pulled on his conscience. He hadn't felt guilt in quite some time. This feeling was reserved for drunken nights spent in solitude with the doors to the room he resided in firmly locked so that his sliver of self-deprecating emotion wasn't witnessed by any but himself, while he drunk himself to unconsciousness.

He preferred the emotional solitude to this.

Arthur had believed himself to be capable of most things. Especially conversation and confrontation. He was quite good at those as centuries of existence had proved. He believed himself quite skilful with words. Most of the time he knew what to say and when to say it without it resulting in unwanted and unforeseen consequences, while still making sure his opinion was heard.

Arthur had no words forming as he stood in that doorframe. If Arthur was a good man, his reasoning would be that he felt such strong empathy and sadness that words wouldn't be enough to express the sorrow he felt at that moment. If Arthur was a good man he'd run to his son, assure him that this wouldn't happen ever again and that he was safe. If Arthur was a good man he would fall on his knees in front of his oldest son and beg for forgiveness.

Arthur wasn't a good man.

He could admit to his shortcomings, but to act on them was not in his nature.

So he stood there for another 5 or 6 minutes watching his son shallowly breathe in and out, hearing the boys lungs struggle to keep up with his muscles contraction and need for air.

He must have made a noise, as Matthew's head tilted slightly to the left, almost looking at Arthur but definitely not seeing him. Arthur looked back at him.

The room was quiet, save for the desperate plea of Matthews lungs to be put out of their misery.

Sensing nothing after a few moments, Matthew turned his head back towards the blank wall ahead.

Arthur silently turned his frame around and slowly started walking the path he had taken to get here. As he took a few steps, he released the breath he didn't know he was holding.

How he longed for that whiskey bottle and that dark room where he could lock himself in and slowly drift out of consciousness instead of facing his own mistakes.

Arthur definitely was not a good man.

#ooof i had a field day with this one #father son drama ugh sighn me the fuck up #arthur is def not a good man im sorry to the england stans but he isnt #he lives his kids but he is not a good man #he would take a bullet for his kids bur he is not a good man #hetalia #hws england #hws canada #myart #my art #historical hetalia #my writing #arthur kirkland #matthew williams #hetalia fanfiction

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 11 months

Text

Your Friendly Neighbor

Pairing: John “Soap” Mactavish x introvert!reader

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, horrible Scottish (I tried), Soap mainly goes by John

Words: 3k

Synopsis: Soap comes home from leave and realizes he has a new neighbor…

Based off this post by @fortunatelyuniquepeach check it out. basically just Soap with an introverted/shy/maybe social anxiety reader

You are currently reading part one

Soap didn’t particularly like going back home when he was on leave.

Nothing was wrong with the neighborhood he lived in, in fact, it was picture perfect compared to the shit he’s seen in the countries he’s been deployed to. The neighbors were nice to him whenever he was home, especially since it was a very small neighborhood with only a handful of people living in it, rent was affordable and the place wasn’t falling apart, and the neighborhood was quite beautiful as well as quiet.

For most people, this was their dream place of living. A good neighborhood to bring up a family and perhaps get away from the everyday stress that was life; being surrounded by kind people and the ability to walk to a few local pubs without issue, sounded like it was straight out of a fairytale. A lot of people would kill to live in a place like this.

Soap hated it.

He didn’t hate the people who lived around him, don’t mistake him, but the lack of movement and noise cut through him more than any bullet could. He was used to the chaos of a battlefield, used to the violence of war that killed men without mercy and the constant bloodshed that surrounded him.

The apple pie life just wasn’t who he was anymore.

He always told himself that he didn’t belong in the calm and quiet life of normalcy and believed that it wasn’t for him either, not after what he’s seen. He belonged on the battlefield, covered in someone else’s blood.

“John, you’ve been working out here all morning!” Ms. Brown, one of Soap’s elderly neighbors who watched his flat for him when he was gone, scolded him as she stepped out on her porch. “You just got back.”

“I’m almost done.” Soap smiled up at her as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

He was dirty from the sweat and grass covering him from having mowed her entire lawn the moment he had put his things down in his flat. He had been too worked up and wired from work still but her lawn needed to be done, so instead of taking the rest he needed, he went to work.

“I’ll get your money.” Ms. Brown said and he quickly shook his head.

“S’alright-”

Ms. Brown was gone before he could even finish his sentence and he couldn’t help but frown as he realized that he was going to be forced to accept money he didn’t want. He could never try to justify “stealing” money from an old woman even after he decided to become an impromptu landscaper.

He sighed, wiping the sweat off his face with his shirt before he pulled the lawnmower into the garage. He tried his hardest to clean himself up while sweeping the grass off the pathway, but the cut blades stuck to him like glue no matter how many times he tried to shake off his clothes or smack it off his hands.

Soap would’ve used the hose to wash himself, and nearly did, if he hadn’t been distracted by a car driving by. Normally he wouldn’t have thought anything of it but the car turned into the driveway of the flat that was right next to his, the one that hadn’t had anyone living in it the entire time he's lived in his flat.

He had a new neighbor.

He was expecting someone much older than you, since almost the entire neighborhood was made up of the elderly, but when you stepped out of the car he couldn’t help but stare at you with wide eyes.

You were young, probably the same age as him, and quite good looking, though he was just more focused on the fact that someone had moved in beside him and he didn’t even know.

You were oblivious to him as you walked to the back of your car and opened the trunk. You began to pull out groceries, stacking as many of them on your arms as you can, and dropped them on your doorstep. You were trying to make it one trip, but there were just too many and before Soap had even realized it, he was crossing the street. Before he knew it he was standing behind you.

“When’d ye move in?” He greeted you a little loudly.

You nearly dropped the groceries in your hands as you stared at him with wide eyes. You took him in, looking at the sweat and grease stains covering his clothes along with the mass amounts of grass stuck to him, including in the shaggy mohawk that sat on top of his head.

You looked uncertain and caught off guard especially as he leaned closer to you.

He couldn’t help it. He was too curious for his own good and up this close he could see how beautiful you really were. He tried not to stare, he could see you glancing away from him awkwardly as if you were trying to find a way out of the sudden conversation you were put in, but he was strangely enamored by you.

You opened your mouth a few times trying to find the right words to say as he waited patiently for you to say something.

“...Last week?” You answered in a soft tone as you stared at him.

“Oh, well I’m yer neighbor right next to ya.” He gestured to the other flat. “We share a wall, I just got back this mornin’, must’ve been after you left.”

You nodded as he continued to explain how he could’ve missed you this morning, though you weren’t catching most of it. In fact, you were having a hard time understanding what exactly he was saying and you could only catch a few words here and there, making it so you had to piece together what he was saying.

You stood there and shifted on your feet as you glanced at your flat a few times.

The more he spoke, the more confused you looked but Soap was too caught up in talking to you that he didn’t notice. What he did notice however, was that you were starting to struggle to hold the groceries in your hands so he immediately turned his attention to it.

“Need help?” He offered, gesturing to the groceries in your hands. “Here.”

Before you could really even protest, he took the groceries in your hands, and the rest in your car, and walked towards your front door without struggle. He picked up the ones that you had placed down by the door as well, not at all bothered by the weight of the straps against his skin as he waited for you to let him.

“Do ya like the neighborhood?” He wondered as you came up and unlocked the front door to your flat.

“It’s nice.” You stepped inside your apartment. “Everyone’s friendly.”

You went to take the groceries back from him but Soap instead stepped inside with a flash of a smile, leaving you staring at him completely dumbfounded. You weren’t particularly looking for a chat, especially when you were still in the moving process.

Soap glanced at all of the boxes still stacked in your flat and the disarray of items strewn across every surface. He didn’t really pay much attention to it as he wandered into the kitchen and set the groceries down on the counters, waiting for you as he took in your flat.

Standing inside your kitchen gave him a strange feeling, a better strange feeling, than his entire flat ever could. Maybe it was because he hadn’t really stepped inside his flat or maybe it was because yours looked far more lived in than his. There was personality, your personality, everywhere and he could just imagine you piddling around making a lot more noise than he ever could by himself.

You’d make lunch and maybe sit in the living room, maybe even put something on the telly while you do it, filling up the empty space with life. How often would you do laundry and does your washer squeak the same way his does when he puts a load in it?

He wasn’t sure why the thought of you doing normal things in your own flat made him feel warm on the inside but he quickly pushed it away when you stepped into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry about the mess…” You trailed off as you gestured to the many boxes stacked in the kitchen.

“Movin’s a hassle.” He dismissed you, completely unbothered and in fact feeling more happy about it than anything else.

Soap expected you to say something but you didn’t. He watched as you stood in front of him while you fidgeted with your keys between your fingers while you awkwardly avoided eye contact with him. The silence dragged on and expected you to do something about it, to start unloading your groceries to where they needed to be but you shifted on your feet as if you were debating on doing it.

He watched you for a moment, not really understanding why you were being so quiet when he finally came to his senses.

The fact that Ms. Brown had failed to mention to him this morning that you had moved in, said enough about how much you spoke to the neighbors so of course you were going to be a little awkward when he had basically barged inside you home to help you, in good faith, when you most likely had just wanted to be alone.

He couldn’t help the slight burning feeling he felt across the back of his neck before he ran a hand through his shaggy mohawk.

“I’m John, by the way.” He outstretched his hand for you to take with a warm smile. “Forgot to introduce myself when I was helping ya.”

You introduced yourself and very hesitantly took his hand to shake. He didn’t squeeze or shake very hard despite the fact that having your softer hand against his making him involuntarily smile as a shiver nearly ran up his spine.

He definitely didn’t want to scare you off now or make things worse between the two of you when you were going to be neighbors for the foreseeable future. He wasn’t too worried however, if he could make Ghost forgive him for the many times he did the same thing, then he could make it up to you.

“I got excited, ya know? Seeing that I had a new neighbor and forgot that not everyone’s as chatty as me.”

“It’s okay…thank you for helping with the groceries.”

Soap nodded and stopped himself from saying anything else so he could give you the peace you wanted. He went to make his way out of the kitchen, about to give you a goodbye, when his boot connected with a bucket full of water that sat in front of the sink.

His eyebrows knitted together when he looked down to see that there were a bunch of damp towels also sitting on the floor by the sink as well. He crouched down to see that the pipe was in fact broken with a large crack in it.

“I’ve been meaning to call somebody.” You said but Soap tutted and shook his head.

“Ah, no, let me. I’ll pop over, get my tools and fix ya up.” He turned to look at you with a grin without even thinking about it. “Free of charge.”

You chewed on your lip and looked as if you wanted to protest but you didn’t, which made him smile even more.

He rushed over to his flat in no time, unsure of why he was really this eager to help you out, and grabbed his tools. Before you knew it, he was underneath your sink fixing the pipe as if this was his job rather than the heinous shit he has done over the years.

There was a smile stuck on his face as you put your groceries away while he worked. He wasn’t sure why, even as he chatted your ear off about the neighborhood, not expecting you to reply but not wanting to end the conversation with you.

The little hums of interest and short replies from you were enough for him to keep him going. He couldn’t help but be reminded of Ghost but you were much different, a lot warmer and less rough around the edges which was more inviting than his lieutenant but not any less interesting to speak to. There was so much he wanted to know about you, so much he wanted to ask but he stopped himself because he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

“Got any friends here yet?” He wondered and peered at you from under the sink.

“I haven’t really had the time.” You looked a little unsure, maybe even embarrassed as you avoided looking at him.

“Well I’ll be around for a little while, so we’ve got plenty of time.”

You stared at him with knitted eyebrows and opened your mouth to say something as he checked to make sure the patch job held up even though he was confident it would. He ran the water in the sink and frowned when it was ice cold against his fingers, sending you a quick disapproving glance as if you had neglected to tell him about it.

“Gonna freeze yourself to death with that.” He shook his head and made his way to the water heater.

“You really don’t have to-”

“You’re off your head for thinking I’ll leave you without hot water.”

Soap was quick with fixing up your water heater and made sure to make it as hot as possible without racking up your bills. Seeing the grateful and relieved look in your eyes when tested the water made his chest warm with pride.

He would’ve stayed to chat your ear off more, he didn’t want this to be the only time he saw you or got to speak with you. He hoped that you wouldn’t close yourself off in your flat or only give him short polite answers if he ever caught you outside, he didn’t want that.

He wanted much more from you, a lot more than just being neighbors who occasionally waved at each other and that was it.

“My work here’s done.” He hid his disappointment behind a wink that made you swallow hard. “For now.”

“Thank you so much.” You gave him a small, but genuine smile that had him staring at your lips for a little longer than he should. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothin’.”

“I can’t not pay you.”

Soap chuckled and shook his head. There was no way in hell he would ever think to take your money, no matter how pretty you looked when you gave him a pleading look as if you wanted to burn your hard earned cash on something like this. He could tell that you weren’t going to take no as an answer but he was prepared for something like that.

He hummed and asked for a piece of paper and a pen. When you gave him something, he quickly scribbled his number down on it and gave it to you, stifling a laugh when you looked up at him surprised.

“If ya really want to pay me, call me when ya need help or when ya want to chat.” He offered and you stared intensely at the piece of paper. “No sense in keeping yourself lonely ‘specially here, Ms. Brown won’t let ya.”

“Thank you, John.” You smiled again.

Soap wasn’t sure why hearing his name come out of your mouth made him feel…different. He didn’t throw his call sign around in this neighborhood, that’s what everyone here knew him as, and yet the moment the name slipped off your tongue it was like he had been pulled back into reality.

Suddenly he was all too aware of the fact that he hadn’t given himself a break since he got back. Exhaustion pulled on his muscles and on his mind, there was nothing buzzing inside of his mind that told him he had to keep working.

It made him tense up. He didn’t like that, he didn’t want to stop moving, he had to do something or else he was sure he would fall apart at the seams.

“I’ll see you around, hen.” He kept a smile on his face, hiding the knots in his stomach.

Before long he was standing in the middle of his living room, unsure of what to do.

There was too much quiet in his flat that the noise inside of his head completely took over his senses. It was consuming him every second he stared at the floor while he fidgeted with his fingers as if the stimulation would provide some sort of comfort.

It choked him, making it harder to breathe as he found himself stuck frozen in his own flat as if something had locked him there to torture him until he would eventually find himself too exhausted to even think anymore. He couldn’t even go into his room to get his journal to write down the endless thoughts running through his mind, the dark and disgusting thoughts that made him feel like a wolf among sheep.

He needed something, anything to keep him from spiraling and yet-

A crash from the other side of the wall and the sound of you cursing to yourself abruptly brought him out of his head.

He blinked a few times, the tension leaving his body as he left out a few deep breaths which filled his lungs with air that seemed to go into his veins and cleanse him of whatever dirtiness that had filled them.

You made another noise and he looked at your shared wall, imagining that you were most likely unpacking again. You must’ve dropped something and he hoped that it was nothing valuable but he couldn’t have been more grateful for the fact that you had made some kind of noise.

In fact, the more you moved around in your flat, your footsteps muffled as you walked around, the more at ease he felt because it filled up that dreaded quiet he had come to hate so much.

He’s not sure how long he stayed there just listening to you, but he was sure he looked like an idiot with the soft smile he had on his face.

Being home didn’t seem too bad anymore.

Link to part 2

A/N: Not my best work but that's okay. This might turn into a mini series? Might make it a three parter who knows. First time really writing for Soap so I'm sorry if he seems a little off character, hopefully I'll get better at him <3

Tags: @cathnoneofyourbusiness @lillianastuff @sofasoap

#john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x you #soap mactavish x reader #soap x you #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #mw2 soap #cod soap #soap cod #john soap mctavish x you #john soap mctavish #john soap mctavish x reader

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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months

Text

JJK men meeting you for the first time (aka Megumi catching you buying condoms lol)

Pairings: Gojo x reader; Nanami x reader; Megumi x reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: Gojo gets rejected lol, injury and death in Nanami's part, buying condoms in Megumi's part hehe, not proofread because I'm tired

Tags: @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @dazaisdick @sanicsmut@arehzhera @mynahx3

Gojo Satoru

It is a normal day at Jujutsu High for him. Meeting boring people with boring point of views in this boring room. Urgh, can it get any worse? Why does he have to be here?

Right, because he’s the strongest. He lets his head rest against the wall, allowing his eyes to close for a second. What will he do after this? Normally this would have been his day off, which always means going to the city and grabbing something to eat. Maybe he’ll try the new ramen place that just opened or those fluffy pancakes Nobara talked about earlier.

“You are Satoru Gojo, right?”

That voice, definitely a female one…He doesn’t know the person behind it, though. Why the hell is an unknown woman here? His eyes dart upwards.

For a second, he forgets how to breathe.

What a wonderful sight you are. Delicious curves well hid under that jujutsu sorcerer uniform, a gentle but professional smile decorating your remarkable face. Huh. That’s definitely not what he expected here.

“Who are you, gorgeous lady?” he purrs towards you while lifting himself off the ground.

Just as he suspected, he is more than a head taller than you, lingering over your delicate figure like a shadow. You are young, but not much younger than him. In your twenties, maybe? Who knows, girls these days always look older than they actually are.

You raise your eyebrows at the strange look on his face. So, this is the Gojo Satoru everyone talked about. “The strongest”, to be precise. You eye him up and down. Well, he’s quite tall, definitely with an athletic build. His posture screams confident in your face, that cheeky grin revealing that he in fact just tried to flirt with you.

Pathetic.

“I’m (y/n), a new jujutsu sorcerer chosen for the inner circle”, you explain briefly.

“I’ve never seen you around here. How does this come? I’d definitely remember that gorgeous face…”

“I’m gonna throw up…”, Utahime comments dryly.

You gift him with a cold smile before stepping a few steps in his direction, your cool eyes locking with his.

“Mr. Gojo, just let me make a few things clear before we work together. You are nothing more than a colleague to me. And while I do understand that you are gifted by birth with unimaginable power, you will never be anything else but a human being in my eyes. So please, refrain from flirting and do your job.”

Damn. Your words hit him with full force, leaving him speechless. You are a feisty one, that’s for sure. Not even your eyes betray your cool composure and the echo of your voice in his head. You really mean what you say. For the first time since he can remember, a woman rejected him.

You rejected Satoru Gojo.

“It’s only Satoru Gojo, no Mister. I always do my job, one way or another. Be assured of that.”

The way he smiles at you sends shivers down your spine.

But not in a good way.

Ew, what a creep. Does he always act like that around women? What a disgusting man. You can’t help but wonder about his reputation. Who on earth would voluntary fall for a guy like him? A jerk that thinks the world belongs to him? You can’t help but screw up your face at the thought of being alone with him. Oh god…

“Can you stop looking at me with so much dislike in your gaze?”

You tilt your head to the side, shaking yourself out of your trance.

“Sorry, you’re making it hard to me”, you reply before turning on your heels and stepping out.

Did you just let Satoru Gojo stand in the rain?

“Oh, this is gonna be fun…”, Utahime mutters out of the corner, a cheeky grin plastered on her face.

You are the first woman in years that seems to hold up with his gaze, not being impressed the slightest by his gorgeous face. Finally a woman who can keep up with him, finally someone who doesn’t fold immediately by one look into his bright blue orbs.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Utahime. I have the last laugh”, Gojo comments with a grin.

What a pleasant surprise. Who is he to reject a nice challenge?

“I will get her to like me, don’t worry about that.

“You definitely won’t!”, you shout into the room.

Nanami Kento

You don’t know how you ended up here. Deformed humans surrounding you along with screams, blood and death. You just wanted to enjoy yourself for a single night out with your friends on Halloween, dressing up as your favourite anime character.

And now you’re the only one alive, your friend’s dead corpses clustering the ground while you stare into the cold eyes of the monster in front of you.

Is this how you’ll die? God, you sill had so much planned. You were supposed to finally meet your parents tomorrow after not seeing them for three years. How will they react, hearing the news about what’s going on here at Shibuya? It would break their hearts, without any doubt.

But you’re so damn tired. Tired from being out all day, tired from getting chased, tired from desperately trying to run away. No, maybe it is time to accept the fate, to get along with the fact that you’ll die right here and now at Shibuya.

“Attention!”

A wave of blonde hair rushes past you before you are even able to comprehend what’s happening, slicing the monster in front of you into tiny little pieces. You get splattered in purple, glossy eyes widen.

What just happened? Who is this man? Did you maybe already die?

“Are you okay, Miss?”

Maybe all of this is just a dream. Yeah, one of the really bad ones. The ones that make you wake up dripping in sweat with your head in the clouds.

“Hey, look at me.”

The cool yet authoritarian tone in his voice makes your eyes dart up. That face…What a beautiful man. Not even the worry lines and his harden expression can change the fact that he is indeed attractive. Sweats drips from his forehead, the first button of his shirt opened.

“Did you get hurt?”

Slowly, you shake your head. Why is your mouth suddenly so dry, refusing its service completely? You must look like an idiot, standing in the middle of the street while staring up at him without saying a single word.

Nanami signs. You look absolutely traumatized, so worn out by the fight that displayed itself in front of you that you seem lost at words. No wonder. Given the way you are dressed, you just wanted to enjoy your night. Were you here alone? Maybe you lost your friends here, innocent people who seemed to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. He should get going, collecting all survivors and push forward. But your terrified face…He has to do something.

“My name is Kento Nanami”, he begins while getting down at your height.

“You are safe, okay? I will get you out of here.”

You don’t know why, you don’t know how. But suddenly you start to cry, your whole body trembling. What on earth just happened? Why are these people dead? Who is responsible for that?

“I’m scared…”, you mutter.

Oh, you feel so pathetic, standing in front of a stranger while balling your eyes out. But you can’t help yourself. Crying seems to be the only thing you are able to do right now. Your friends, all these other people…Your eyes roam around the blood-covered floor, the pavement plastered in limbs and intestines. You feel like throwing up, fainting right on the spot. But instead, you stare blankly at the ground, body unable to move a single inch.

All of the sudden the stranger kneels down in front of you and embraces your hands with his. They feel warm, almost comforting while they stop your arms from shaking.

“Focus on me, okay?”

Your gaze meets his, the calm ocean of his brown eyes. Normally you would turn your head after a man like him, giggling about his gorgeous appearance with your friends. But right here and now, you have only eyes for the brown orbs in front of you.

“Let’s breathe together, okay? Breathe in…”

You take a shaky breath in.

“And breathe out…”

You let out your breath, repeating with him over and over again. Slowly but surely, your heart doesn’t seem to pound out of your chest, your senses return to you, even the trembling of your limbs comes to an end.

“What’s your name?”

“(y/n)”, you breathe out.

“(y/n), you did great here. Let’s get you away from this place, you’ve done enough. Will you follow me?”

“Yeah…I think that would be great…”, you mutter.

“I will look after you when all of this is over. Just ask for Kento Nanami. Is that alright?”

Kento Nanami, what a fitting name for the man who walks besides you while still holding your hand in comfort. How gentle he spoke to you this whole time despite his cool appearance.

“Thank you. For everything, Mr. Nanami…”

“Just call me Kento.”

Megumi Fushiguro

It is absolutely dumb and makes no sense at all, but you don’t really care. This night is the best you’ve had since a long time, being out with your friends at summer break is a vibe you’ve missed so damn much these past weeks.

“Truth”, your best friend besides you picks when the bottle lands on her.

“Have you ever had a crush on someone way older than you?”, your other friend asks with a mischievous grin.

“Huh, who doesn’t? Guys my age just don’t hit the same.”

You giggle at her reply. It was obvious that sooner or later, the night would move into that direction. No wonder, given the fact that this is a girl’s night. What better way to celebrate that than with a good chat about each other’s love life?

“Fine, you’re turn.”

The bottle turns on the floor over and over until…

It lands on you.

“Truth or Dare, (y/n)?”

“You know what? I’ll take dare. Because all of your losers only pick truth.”

The girls around you laugh out, playfully beating your shoulder for your comment.

“If you’re this brave. I’ll have something special for you…Go to the gas station and buy…condoms.”

“Condoms?”, you repeat in disbelief.

“Of course.”

You jump up, straightening your clothes and shoulders.

“Nothing easier than that.”

Without thinking twice, you grab your wallet and jacket, leaving the house with the rest of the girls. The next gas station is only a few minutes away. Huh, how boring. Why is buying condoms embarrassing in any way? It doesn’t matter though. After passing such a big dare, you’ll get away with picking truth for the rest of the night. Maybe you will leave anyway when your drink is empty…

“See ya!” you shout towards your friends.

The warmth of the gas station hits you like a wall when you enter the shop, going straight into the back where the condoms have to be. Urgh, why does your head suddenly hurt so bad? You didn’t even drink that much, mostly water and that one cocktail from your bestie. Maybe it really is time for you to go to bed, after all, it’s far past midnight. You said you’ll only stay until 10 anyway, so no one should be mad at you. Damn, why is it so hot in here? You grab a pack on condoms, giggling at the dumb description written in the back.

Suddenly, you literally feel like hitting a wall. Just before your butt hits the ground with full force, a pair of hands pulls you back on your feet.

You feel completely dizzy, mind still trying to comprehend what just happened. Did you really run into a wall?

“Excuse me.”

“Huh?”

Your eyes dart towards, revealing the true wall. He is a boy, in fact. And what a handsome one. His black hair frames his delicate face perfectly, concerned eyes scanning your body up and down.

“Are you okay?”

He lets go of your hand. Huh, what a bummer, you could get used to that feeling.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention”, you explain briefly.

As if in slow motion, both pairs of eyes dart towards your other hand. All colour drains from your face, your desperate attempt to hide the pack of condoms behind your body failing miserably.

Oh god, you want to be swallowed whole by the ground so badly. Why the hell did you have to meet a cute boy when doing some dumb dare?

The boy in front of you clears his throat and scratches his head uncomfortably while taking a few steps back. Is that blush creeping up his face?

“Sorry, I didn’t wanna…disrupt you…”, he mutters.

God, why does this have to be so awkward? Why does your very own face feel like its burning? You blink a few times against the rising embarrassment. Does he think…? Oh god. Please don’t.

“These…These aren’t for me…”, you stutter.

Why did you have to meet him right now? Why not on a nice walk to a café when being in a nice dress, why not at the library with a smart book in your hand? No, with your luck it was clear that you’ll meet the cutest boy you’ve ever seen while buying condoms at a gas station after midnight.

“Sure…I mean, it’s none of my business anyway. I mean we don’t know each other….”

“Yeah…right…I think I’ll go now…”, you mumble, already on your way to sprint past him.

You will never forgive your friends for missing an opportunity like this. Fuck, why does he have to be so damn cute? You feel like slamming your head against a wall.

Repetitive.

With full force.

“Hey uhm…It might be super awkward, but maybe meet at the park tomorrow again?”

Your eyes widen at his sudden request, catching you completely off guard.

“You…What?”, you stumble.

“Forget it…”

He is already on his way to walk past you when you grab his hand out of instinct, making him stop in his tracks.

“No, I would like that!”

“Oh”, he breathes out.

Why is he so surprised by your positive answer when you are the one who should be surprised by this sudden request? He really wants to see you again.

“Well, cool….I don’t wanna stop you from buying condoms any longer, so see you tomorrow?”

Your cheeks heat up all over again in an instant while you brush past him at light speed.

“Yeah…”, you mutter into your jacket.

676 notes · View notes

harryspet · 5 months

Text

bambi eyes (2) r. cameron

word count: 4.7k

In which you've been a good girl and your Daddy Rafe can't get enough of you.

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bambi eyes masterlist

When you opened your eyes the following day, you could still feel Rafe all over you. All at the same time, you felt him inside of you, his mouth kissing your lips, and the bed dipping beside you when he pressed his weight into you. When you slowly realized he wasn’t in bed with you anymore, part of you felt you might have imagined last night. You’d never truly enjoyed being with men, and last night, you felt closeness for the first time. Perhaps it was the combination of all the gifts and the attention he had provided you yesterday.

You still couldn’t quite rap the idea around your head that you were the first and maybe only girl he had done this with. How long was he planning on keeping you here?

The digital clock sitting on the nightstand read exactly 8:00, and you took it as a cue to get out of bed. As you made up the bed, your mind again wandered back to last night. You imagined he left as soon as you fell asleep, and you’d let yourself get so comfortable that you hadn’t even noticed.

You stared at the doorknob for a short while. It would be locked, you knew that, but what if it wasn’t — it didn’t matter.

Before he left, you noticed he left you an outfit hanging on the armoire. He’d picked out a matching set of light pink leggings and a matching top. He also picked out a pair of socks that had little, tiny bunnies on them and lacy, white underwear. You brought the clothes with you to the bathroom, your fingers caressing the soft fabric of the clothing. You didn’t recognize brand, sure that it was popular with American girls.

You went through your morning routine, one that Rafe had laid out yesterday, and you found yourself having fun. You brushed your teeth as you ran your bath. There were a million bath products, and you spent a few minutes opening and smelling all of them. You settled on something sweet and flowery, and soon the aroma was spreading throughout the entire bathroom.

You settled in the water with the bubbles enveloping you.

You almost settled into a moment of peacefulness until you heard your bedroom door unlock. Wearing a nice plaid shirt and khaki pants, Rafe entered your small sanctuary. You sat up in the water, worried that you’d been taking too long. His eyes were soft and unthreatening, and you let yourself rest again. He took a seat on the edge of the tub, looking down at you, “Enjoying yourself?”

You nodded, “It’s nice. Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome, princess,” He smiled, “You did good. Last night, I mean.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I have some exciting plans for us,” He stated before he reached into his pocket, “Here, I need you to take this.”

He placed a small white pill in your hand. You watched as he made his way over to the sink, filling up a cup of water and bringing it to you.

“What is it for?”

“It’s, uhm, so you don’t get pregnant,” Oh. You placed the pill on your tongue, washing it down with the liquid, “I got a little ahead of myself last night. That’s why I’m going to have a doctor check you out today.”

“I’m going to the hospital?”

“No. Dr. Watts makes house calls. And he’ll be here in thirty minutes. I’ll come back and get ya’, yeah?”

“Okay,” You agreed, slightly worried that Rafe thought you needed to be seen by a doctor.

Rafe moved to leave but stopped in the doorway, “Don’t worry, there will be time for little Rafe’s and Bambi’s. Just not yet.”

You nodded, conveying your understanding, but in reality, you didn’t understand how he could know he wanted that with you, even in the future. After he left the room, you realized your fingers were beginning to wrinkle. You reached down to drain the water from the tub, deciding your next pressing issue was how you’d do your hair.

There was a vanity made into the sink countertop with a place underneath for a chair to fit. You pulled it out and made yourself comfortable, looking closely through all of the drawers. You find lots of hair accessories, makeup, and other beauty products. You picked some things out that wouldn’t require a full tutorial for you to use. You also chose two pink bows to tie to the ends of your braids, taking a guess that Rafe might like that you match your outfit.

According to Rafe, Figure 8 had a lot of these places called country clubs, and you wondered what sort of things people wore to places like that. Surely, Rafe would make sure you wouldn’t feel out of place there. If you fully earned his trust, if you continued to be good, you could probably have a normal life here. People were happy here, especially the ones that called themselves Kooks.

The leggings fit you well, grabbing onto your curves, and the cropped pink top also fit you snuggly.

Outside the window, you could see boats riding by in the distance and large birds that stood by the water, wading and looking for fish. You could already tell his home was large, just from the view from your room, making you curious about the rest of the house. As if he was able to read your mind, Rafe appeared again, holding the door propped open, “Let me show you the rest of Tannyhill, Bambi.”

You straightened, trying not to seem too eager as you approached the door. As you grazed past you, he rested a hand on your hip, rubbing his palm against your bottom. You looked down a long hallway with lots of old paintings and elegant-looking fixtures. He took your hand, leading you down the hallway, “This is my room,” Rafe opened double doors, and you peeked inside to see a large dark wood canopy bed.

He didn’t show you every room; in fact, he seemed to ignore one specifically. Your eyes widened when he brought you out onto a huge patio that overlooked an even more ginormous green lawn.

“All of this is–”

“Yeah,” He finished your sentence for you, “Anyone would be happy here, right?”

“Yes,” You agreed quickly, which seemed to please him. He grabbed your hand in response, holding it and caressing your thumb with his own larger one. Although you could tell the seasons were changing, the weather felt nice, and there was a constant breeze flowing and relieving you from the heat of the sun.

He gave you time to take in the scenery but five minutes later, you both could see a car coming down the horseshoe-shaped driveway, “That’s Dr. Watts. You ready?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

You didn’t have much of experience with doctors but you knew already you must not be a good patient. You struggled with almost every answer that Dr. Watts asked you and, at some point, he started directing all of his questions towards Rafe.

When was your last period? What kinds of birth control have you used? Have you ever had something called a pap smear? Do you have any allergies? What’s your family’s medical history?

“I gave her a Plan B this morning, just to be safe.”

You found yourself just trying to keep up with the conversation they were having. At some points, you found the view outside more interesting, “There are small procedures we can do. An IUD can be placed inside the uterus, an implant can be placed inside the arm, or there is the traditional birth control pill. Right now, I can give her a shot that will prevent pregnancy for the next 3 months.”

You were sat where Rafe had placed you, on a stool in the middle of the massive kitchen.

Dr. Watts didn’t look like what you imagined a doctor would look like. He didn’t wear a white coat; in fact, he was dressed very casually in shorts and a button-up. He also brought all the things he needed in a briefcase.

“That’s fine,” Rafe agreed, his arms crossed.

“Alright, so after that shot, we’ll do a couple of vaccination shots. And then I’ll take some blood for testing.”

Dr. Watts had several syringes laid out on the kitchen island, picking up the first one after washing his hands and putting on some gloves. Rafe grabbed ahold of your hand again, his eyes commanding you to look at him, “This is just to make sure you’re healthy. It won’t feel good, but it’s not a punishment.”

“Okay,” You said, although your heart was pounding, and you already felt tears in your eyes.

“I’m right here; squeeze my hand,” He said, pushing your hair back as he gazed over your face. On your other side, Dr. Watts lifted the sleeve of your shirt. The first shot was to your upper arm, and the pinch made you squeeze your eyes tight, but it was over relatively quickly, “You’re doing so good, sweet girl. What do you think about ice cream for breakfast?”

You opened your eyes, and the calmness in his eyes was a signal to you that everything was okay, “Lana has the day off, but I can make an ice cream sundae. We’ve got everything, whip cream, cherries, chocolate sprinkles. What do you think?”

Rafe made you talk through the next few shots and when the doctor had to draw your blood, and he wiped your tears when you were all done.

“That wasn’t so bad. I’ll walk Dr. Watts out, and we’ll make some ice cream.”

Rafe noticed you seemed almost disappointed when he led you back to your room after your ice cream feast. He liked showing you around your new home and the place he grew up, but he wasn’t quite ready to unhook your leash. You were safest in his home and even safer within these four walls.

Rafe took a seat at the edge of the bed, his hand still intertwined with yours, “How does your arm feel, Bambi?”

“A little sore,” You answered, although Rafe could tell by your eyes that it was worse than what you were portraying. He pulled you gently forward, encouraging you to straddle his lap.

“Poor thing,” Rafe said, his voice becoming even more raspy as he felt your closeness, “But hey, you did so well. You know, I’m really happy with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re a good little girl. I can tell that you appreciate everything that I’ve done.”

“I-I do,” You replied quickly, making Rafe smirk.

“And you understand that I’m in control … I mean, it’s only fair. Who knows what would have happened if I left you with that man, with those people,” You nodded at his words, and negative thoughts of his father, Sarah, and his evil stepmother started to enter his thoughts, “I’m giving you the perfect life, the happy home that I never got. Whatever, I won’t get fucking mopey, but just know after all that I’ve been through, I know how to lead a family properly.”

He stopped his mind from wandering to darker places and grabbed ahold of your hips, “Thank you for … taking me away.”

“I had to,” Rafe leaned in to kiss your neck, “You’re mine now. Only mine.”

He loved that he could smell the perfume he picked out for you and feel you in the clothes he bought for you. He took so much care in creating this paradise for you.

“Daddy’s going to make you feel better,” Rafe said in your ear, “I have to taste you. You want Daddy to taste your pretty pussy?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Tell me,” Rafe commanded, squeezing your ass with his large hands.

“I want you to taste me, Daddy.”

“Good girl, don’t be nervous,” Rafe praised, wrapping an arm around your lower back before he swiftly turned you over, placing you gently against the bed, “I’ll be gentle, just how I was last night. Not going to fill you up, just want to taste you.”

You were quite helpless with your arm being so sore, Rafe could tell you were struggling to move it. He thought of tying you down, of course, when you felt better. He took his time with your leggings, still excited as ever to see more of you. He spread your legs, kissing your center through the fabric of your panties. Wrapping his arms underneath you, he pulled you into him, letting your thighs warm his face. He kissed you like this for a while, teasing you, making you squirm when he kissed your inner thigh. Not able to wait any longer, Rafe pulled your thin panties to the side, “There’s Daddy’s pretty little pussy,” He kissed your clit first, and the next sounds out of his mouth were guttural as he took you into his mouth.

You tasted divine, sweet like he always called you. Rafe became relentless, waiting until you were close to your peak before he pulled away. Heavy breaths fanned over your sensitive area, and you whined because of the lack of friction, “You liked that, didn’t you, Bambi?”

“Yes, i-it feels good, Daddy,” You responded, slightly embarrassed by how quickly you got worked up.

“Should I keep going? Does my little girl want to cum? Go ahead and ask Daddy. Tell me what you want.”

“Can you please make me cum, Daddy?” Rafe could tell in your tone of voice that maybe you weren’t sure what you asking. He hadn’t considered that you might not know what an orgasm felt like.

“Yes, Bambi, of course. Talk through it; tell me what it feels like, sweet girl,” After those words, Rafe held you even tighter and dipped his head down again. He pressed his tongue into you, waiting to find that spot that seemed to make you cry out before he focused all the pressure there.

“It feels …it feels–” You gasped, “It’s too much, it’s too much–” Rafe took your scattered words and cries of pleasure as a good sign to keep adding pressure. When you tried to pull away from him, Rafe knew you were having an orgasm, but he kept you there, “It’s too much, Daddy!”

Rafe pulled away, giving your clit a short break, but soon he was replacing his mouth with his fingers. Rafe shushed you, “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” He pushed two fingers in and out of you, curling them up to find the right spot. For Rafe, the best thing about being with a woman was being able to watch them have multiple orgasms in a row. This time, he’d only make you have two, but he’d soon find out what your limit was, “One more. Just give me one more.”

Rafe started sucking your clit as he moved his fingers, “Please, please,” You wouldn’t beg him to stop; you were too much of a good girl. He knew what you needed and wouldn’t let you run from it.

He slowed his fingers as you rode out your orgasm. Rafe entangled himself from your legs, needing to see your face. You looked so cute trying to catch your breath and with your face scrunched up. Rafe brought his hands over his mouth, wiping away the wetness, “That’s my girl.”

A few days passed in your new room. Sometimes it crossed your mind to ask Rafe when you’d be able to walk around the house or when you’d get to go outside, but you stopped yourself every time. You thought you should be more grateful towards him, he’d provided you with so many things, and he was much kinder than any man you’d ever met. He was handsome, too, with blue eyes that often made it hard for you to think when you looked into them.

Every day was similar; there were no more visitors like Dr. Watts, and you completed your routine exactly like Rafe had instructed. Usually, you’d share all of your meals, and Rafe would leave in between for work. You got more comfortable in your own company. At first, playing with the toys felt silly, like the activities were meant for someone much younger. Slowly, it started to feel like satisfying a part of you that hadn’t existed in a long while.

Today, you had several coloring books laid out on the ground in front of your bed, and you’d spent most of the day coloring. You liked having your dolls set up nearby so, of course, they could see your work, “What do you think, Molly?” You’d spend hours by yourself, and it started feeling natural to talk to them, “Red or blue for the spots … Blue? You’re right; blue would be perfect.”

Rafe returned to you before dinner but you noticed he hadn’t brought a tray of food like he usually did. Instead, he was carrying a large cardboard box, “I’ve got a surprise for you,” He set it down on the carpet nearby you, his face lit up with excitement. You set down your marker, crawling on your knees towards the box. Rafe kneeled down with you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a soft kiss, “You’ve been so damn good your first week; something came for you in the mail.”

You looked at him, baffled, “I don’t know what it could be.”

“Open it,” He winked at you.

Cautiously, you pulled open the flaps of the cardboard and then reached into the mountain of packing peanuts. You pulled out a long box, immediately recognizing a doll's face, but one that looked very similar to you. It was the right skin tone and had the same curls that you did, “Really? For me?” You placed the box on the ground, just admiring her face.

“Yeah, why should you have to play with my sister’s old things?” Rafe opened up the box even further, and you could see she was dressed in a beautiful floral gown. It was a cream color with pretty blue flowers, puffy sleeves, and an even flouncier skirt.

“She’s so pretty … and the dress is…,” You said, unable to take your eyes off of her, “You didn’t have to; I really do like the other dolls–”

“I wanted to,” Rafe insisted, “And that’s not it. There’s something else.”

When you reached back inside the box, you felt the top of a hanger. You pulled out a clear garment bag and inside was the exact replica of the dress your new doll was wearing, and it looked your size, “For you to wear to dinner,” Rafe explained after you stared speechless, “Which, for tonight, will be served in the dining room.”

“We’ll be matching,” You thought out loud, next picking up the doll from the packaging.

“She’s welcome to dinner if you want to bring her. She’s completely yours. You can name her and everything,” Rafe said, gently grabbing ahold of your chin, “I want to see you in your new dress, though.”

“Yes, Daddy,” You agreed, standing with both the doll and dress in hand, “If I’m Bambi, maybe she can be …Bunny?”

“That’s a cute name, sweet girl,” Rafe agreed, clapping his hands together, “Run along, I want to be surprised.”

Excitetely, you padded over to the bathroom. When you put the dress on, you were surprised by how similar they were, down to the placement of the flowers, although yours fit much shorter than your dolls. When you stepped back into the room with Bunny in your hands, you smoothed down the back of your dress so it would fully cover your bottom. Rafe’s eyes seemed to light up at the sight, and you did a small spin for him.

“Wow, don’t you two look precious.”

His eyes looked hungry, although you could tell he wasn’t thinking about tonight’s dinner.

For the first time in several days, you left your room, one hand tucking Bunny close to your body and your other hand intertwined with Rafe’s. The lights around the house were dim and Rafe led you to down a long hallway to a candlelit room. Although the long dining room had twelve chairs, only two places were set. Rafe pulled back the chair right next to the head of the table, and you initially missed his cue for you to sit as your eyes looked all over the room until he tapped your bottom. Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment, but you still took your seat.

In front of you was a delicious-smelling plate of steak with a red sauce, small potatoes, and carrots. There was also a beautiful flower arrangement on the table, one made of cream and light purple flowers, “You look fucking beautiful, princess,” Rafe whistled, taking his place at the head of the table, “Like a fucking painting or something.”

Rafe’s words made you smile, and his compliments often made you feel overwhelmed. You weren’t used to someone taking notice of your appearance outside of sex, and when he looked at you, he looked at you as a whole, “Thank you, Daddy,” The words were starting to feel natural on your tongue, “It looks very nice in here, and the food looks delicious.”

“You ever been on a date before?” Rafe asked, pouring something fizzy into your wine glass. You shook your head in response, “Usually, you share a meal or do an activity together; meanwhile, you’re getting to know the other person. You’re lucky you don’t have to go on a million bad dates before you’ve found the right person.”

“What makes a date bad?” You asked.

You moved to pick up your knife but paused when Rafe grabbed ahold of it first. He took you for as well and began cutting your steak into smaller pieces, “For me, girls have always wanted … things from me. Superficial things. You think they’re listening to you when you’re pouring your heart out …but really just thinking about how they’re gonna get what they want from you.”

You frowned, squeezing Bunny closer to your stomach, “That sounds horrible.”

When Rafe handed you your fork, you assumed you could begin to eat.

Rafe nodded his head, taking a swig of brown liquor from his glass, “I don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“Will your sister ever come to visit?” If the purpose of a date was to get to know the other person, you thought you could get some curiosities you had off your mind.

“I have two sisters. Wheezie, she’ll probably come visit at some point, uhm but my other sister probably won’t. She’s not really welcome, anyways,” Rafe answered, poking at food on his plate, “Wheezie, though, I’m sure she’ll like you.”

Your lips pulled into a small smile, “I’ve always wanted siblings. I had some friends in the other girls, but Mas-” You stopped yourself, “We weren’t really supposed to like each other.”

“Blood doesn’t really mean anything. You should be able to choose your family,” Rafe said, “What matters is who’s loyal to you, you know?

You agreed, although you weren’t sure you really knew what loyalty felt like. As you were finishing up dinner, a loud knocking interrupted one of Rafe’s stories. Rafe seemed more caught off guard than even you were, fumbling to pull out his phone and check something, “Shit,” he cursed, “C’mon, Daddy’s got to handle some business.”

Rafe grabbed your arm as he pulled you from the dining room. He brought you to the stairs, “Go upstairs, close your door, and wait for me,” You tried to glance out the window panes by the front door but couldn’t get a glimpse of who was there, “Go.”

The strict tone in his voice made you hurry up the stairs, although once you were at the top, you ducked down and crouched behind the banister. You watched Rafe open the door, and a shorter, dark-haired man pushed his way inside, “What’s so fucking urgent that you’re showing up without calling?” You heard Rafe ask.

“Don’t you look fancy,” The other man commented, “Having a dinner party without me?”

“Dude, what is it?” Rafe sounded impatient.

“It’s Maybank. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have some important shit to tell you.”

“Fine, come to my office.”

Their voices faded away as they moved further into the house. You debated sneaking back down and eavesdropping, but you looked down at Bunny, her face reminding you to be good. You wandered back to your room, and like Rafe told you to, you closed the door behind you.

He was occupied for an hour before he returned to your room. Running a hand through his hair, he breathed out a sigh, “Sorry about that,” Rafe said, taking a spot next to you on the bed.

“Who was it?” You asked quietly.

Rafe hesitated, “... a business associate of mine. I got some bad news. I’ll probably be gone most of the day tomorrow.”

“Can’t I go with you?”

“You still need time to adjust,” He looked down at you, “It isn’t something you’ll want to see anyways. My work is nothing a little girl like you should be involved in. I won’t let you worry your pretty little head.”

“I’m sorry …”

“I’m not mad at you,” Rafe grabbed ahold of your chin, “Before if I had gotten news like that …man, I would’ve lost my shit. But I have you, and just looking at you makes me feel better.”

His hand moved to your throat, squeezing as he kissed your lips, “I want to fuck you so bad in that cute little dress.”

You struggled to get a breath, his tongue exploring your mouth as he tightened his grip around your neck. Instinctively, you grabbed ahold of his wrist, and he pushed you back onto the bed. Just as he released his grip and you were able to take in a full breath, Rafe grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over. His movements didn’t feel like they usually did; he was rough and desperate.

“Up on your knees,” He lifted up your waist and then lifted up the skirt of your dress, your face pressed into the bed, “Good girl, stay like that, spread open for me.”

You heard him spit before you felt him press a wet hand against your clit, rubbing, before coating your entrance. He was already hard, and he wasted no time pressing his length against your entrance. In this position, you felt him even deeper as he pushed inside of you, “Daddy,” You whimpered.

“You’re doing so good for me,” Rafe cooed, “I know you can take more. I know you can handle it.”

You squeezed the bed tightly as he moved faster and went just as deep. Rafe kept you from pulling away, holding your hips so tight you were sure they might bruise. Unmercifully, he rocked into you, only going harder when you felt yourself reaching your peak, “I’m cumming, Daddy,” You told him, your voice muffled by the fabric of the comforter, “I’m cumming.”

Rafe grabbed the back of your throat, pushing into you harder, “Cum baby, you’re squeezing me so fucking good,” Rafe panted, “Oh, Daddy’s gonna fill you up, sweet girl.”

You felt tears begin to fall, a swirl of emotions inside you. It hurt, him stretching you over and over, and yet you felt good at the same time. You were so happy to have a home with a new Master who actually cared for you and wanted to take care of you. You were still scared that you’d wake up tomorrow and you’d be back sleeping on cold, cement floors.

After Rafe finished, the tight grip he had changed to soft caresses. He softly rubbed your bottom before slowly pulling up the skirt of your dress, “Lay down, Bambi,” Although your muscles were sore, you crawled further onto the bed, laying down on your stomach. Rafe fell beside you, caressing your hair and then your tear-stained cheeks, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

You wrapped your arms around him as he pulled you into a deep hug. Rafe rubbed your back until you thought you might fall asleep until you heard him say, “You won’t like it if you wake up in your dress. Let’s go brush our teeth and change into our jammies. Then Daddy will tuck you in, okay?”

Weakly, you nodded against his hard chest, “Okay, Daddy.”

part 3

#dark fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #outer banks #black!reader #rafe cameron smut #obx fic #outer banks smut #barry outer banks #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction

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rosie-writings · 25 days

Text

For Just a Moment I'm Whole Again

Request: anon—ghost!Reader falls in love with Colby

Summary: ghost!Reader finds out that her twin flame is Colby who was born decades after she died, and upon meeting him for the first time, she needs his help to usher her on to the afterlife to be free from the purgatory she roams.

Warnings: ghost!Reader x Colby smut, Age Gap, Bittersweetness, light Angst, Fluff, and Twin Flame relationship

Words: 6.6k

No Y/N Use

Title from 'Calcutta' by Sleep Token

A/N: Technically, Reader is 19 while Colby is 27, however she died nearly thirty years before he was born, so who's older?

I stopped crying about it a few years ago.

Maybe a decade or two, I wasn’t quite sure. It’s not that I was upset about how I died, I almost forgot the pain of it all, I was upset because out of everywhere I could have died, it was in a house.

A lonely house.

After I died, apparently my friends were too traumatized to keep the house, so they sold it. I tried to get their attention. Everyday I tried to convince them that purgatory was real and they forced me into it by leaving. What was I supposed to do alone in a house that no one wanted to buy because a death occurred?

When I found out that they also rumored to their realtor that it was haunted, I wanted to slap the lives out of them. Of course it was haunted; that was your best friend trying to get you to look at me for once before I could never see you again—

I cried for years.

No one bought the house.

I slept in the king sized bed in the room upstairs alone and cold.

There was a hotspot in the middle of the house.

The house was built upon a particular mineral that ushered in traveling ghosts, and the convenient vortex in the center of it aided their arrival. Occasionally I met other ghosts and other inhuman beings that couldn’t care less about me. They probably had millennia of experience navigating the afterlife’s purgatory on earth while I was only a couple decades old.

I think I died in 1971. I couldn’t remember.

The day this house was bought, I thought I was saved.

Instead, major renovations took place. They ripped the nostalgic wallpapers off the walls and tore out the carpets that my human and ghostly feet were all too familiar with.

”How about you chose an actually appealing pint this time, motherfucker,” I spat at the contractor who walked right through me in the main hallway upstairs. I rolled my eyes and followed him into the primary suite.

Today was the day they renovated my bedroom.

”I wonder how many years it’s been; you look fucking weird. Do all men have that silly ass haircut or something now?” I asked as I sat on top of the ladder in the middle of the room. “Thanks so much for bringing your tool batteries in here. You don’t need those do you?” I felt their powerful buzzing. I felt the electricity waving through the room and I sucked it all up.

With every minute that passed, I felt stronger and stronger, until.

”Oops—“ I sighed in boredom as I knocked a paint can off the top of the ladder.

The worker whirled around with wide eyes and basically looked at me in mine, but he saw through me. I rolled my eyes again.

“You humans are all the fucking same. God, I was so damn embarrassing as a human. Can’t you at least try to talk to me? I’m so fucking—“

His co-worker called his name and walked in the room.

”What the fuck have you done?” The second shouted. White paint pooled on the concrete below me.

”At least you didn’t put floor in yet—“

”It just-It just fell! I didn’t even touch it! I put it up there like 20 minutes ago and-and it just fell!” The second worker grumbled and picked up the emptying can.

”They said there was some poltergeist activity in this house which is why it took fucking 50 years for it to be sold again.”

50 years?

My lack of heart nearly fell through the floor.

I sat on the ladder looking through them this time. 50 years? I was stuck here for 50 years with nothing to do? No one to talk to? I wanted to cry. Ghost cry sessions weren’t as satisfying as human cry sessions.

I had to get out of here.

I had to—

I stole the energy from all their equipment, but it was still not enough. Even with the electromagnetic energy pulsing through my spirit, the hotspot wouldn’t take me.

“Come on,” I grumbled. I looked through the vortex and saw spirals and spirals of unveiled spirits traveled through this purgatory called earth, and yet none would grab on to me. What was beyond? “Please! Take me! Get me out of here!”

I broke down crying again.

This was the biggest chance I had in order to leave and not even it was enough.

I curled up in the middle of the floor there and cried until I fell asleep.

Later, when the sun was high in the sky and the house was vacant, I woke up.

As I stood, I appeared in the master bedroom so I could sleep in the bed—

“What the fuck?” I asked to nothing.

The walls were white, the flooring was finished with deep warm floorboards, and the bed frame was a plush cream color with a creamy duvet.

“They did this fast. I wonder how long I was asleep for.” There was a dresser, two nightstands, and a desk that all matched in a deep brown, practically black, wood finish. “We go 50 years in the future just to be completely devoid of all color. Jesus fuck.” I curled up in the bed regardless. “Oh my god,” I moaned loudly. “Actually, I take all that back. I will give up any color in my life to feel this mattress if only for a second. This is how technology should be used, oh my god…”

I don’t remember finishing my sentence, I fell unconscious again.

I woke up to the sound of voices.

I shot to the foyer in a blink of an eye and I saw a family. A mom, a dad, three kids, and a dog, and I nearly cried on sight.

”Hello! Oh my god, yes thank everything good and mighty. You bought this house? I’m not alone anymore!” The dad walked through me. “I’m so excited—Oh my god your dog is so cute!” I fell to my knees in front of the Husky and it howled a talking fit at me, and when I raised my hand to pet it, it ran away from me so fast that it slid across the floor on its nails. “I’m not that scary, I don’t think,” I sighed and stood up again.

There was a girl, probably fifteen or sixteen, who walked right past me with something in her hands.

”Oh what’s that?” I asked as I followed her. The rectangle in her hand illuminated back at her like a TV screen and her thumbs furiously typed on some kind of keyless keyboard. “Holy shit! Is that one of those phones that all the futuristic movies talked about? We have them in the real world now?” I nearly screamed. I plopped into a vacant barstool next to her. “I would have loved that,” I grumbled. I devised a plan to steal it from her in her sleep and play with it all night.

I watched as she turned it on again.

”A passcode?” I questioned and I was ready to memorize it, but suddenly a blue light scanned down her face and it unlocked by itself. “Now that’s—“ I got out of my seat and backed up from her. “That’s weird. Can that detect ghosts?”

“Come on! Let’s go in the pool!” I gasped when the younger boy ran right through me and out the backdoor. I smiled when he cannon balled in the pool out back.

“Lukas! It is 40 degrees outside, get your ass in the house now!” His mother screamed, and I laughed.

“Oh yeah, they put so many cool pool toys in the chest out there,” I told him as I stepped foot outside. “You would love them in the summer though. It’s pretty cold—“

I must have walked too far out of the house, because in a blink of an eye, I teleported back in the middle of the vortex.

”God help me,” I sighed, and I started to devise my game plan to get into that girl’s device in the night.

It wasn’t easy.

The moon was high in the sky, and I walked in the girl’s bedroom cautiously. Not like she could see me, but I could make noises and I didn’t want to scare her.

Her phone lay on the table next to her bed with a cord coming from it, and she slept soundlessly next to it. I picked it up.

It illuminated to life and I gasped. I read the time and date.

2:35am, December 20, 2021

”Oh.. my god…” I whispered slowly.

2021? That wasn’t a real year. It had been 50 years that I was—

How was I going to get out of here? I needed out. First I needed this girl’s device. I grabbed it, and when it scanned my face, it said it was the incorrect Face ID.

I pointed it at the girl cautiously, and after a few recalculating aims, it unlocked. I brought it back to me and saw so many colors I didn’t know which to tap first. The entire screen responded to my touch.

I flicked through the squares on the screen and with each one, I read more and more paragraphs about people. It looked like the news or something. I couldn’t believe how amazing this device was at taking photos.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered. The squares where it seemed like I could communicate with other people intimidated me; I didn't understand who I was talking to so I tried to get out of it and go back to the original place where all the squares were. I accidentally swiped and it moved the screen and I tapped out of it. That was how you got out of it, got it.

I found another app that was red. I clicked it. This time photos with short captions were the only things I scrolled through. After a second, I clicked one to make it larger, but instead, it brought me to another screen and a video began playing.

The audio was so loud and clear, I gasped and tried to figure out how to silence it. The girl disturbed next to me. The button I clicked turned the volume down.

A video played of the same photo I clicked on—

Those weren’t photos, they must have been paused videos or something. I watched and listened and it was actually entertaining. After the video ended, I clicked another.

And then another.

And before I knew it, the sun peeked over the horizon. The time read 7:30am. I had been watching these videos for five hours.

I put the phone down and walked out of the room.

I would have loved 2021.

I did it again the next night.

I sat there on the floor against the nightstand and watched more videos.

Video after video, I started to remember the names of the people who posted them. I didn’t remember the rabbit trail I went down; recommended video after recommended video led me to one that made me stop my jumping around.

It was a video of two idiotic boys messing around in a haunted house.

Now, I never was into haunted or spooky things when I was alive, and being dead now, I would say that I had a pretty large say in and experience in what these boneheads talked about.

I didn’t expect them to be so respectful. And considerate, too.

I watched as they talked to spirits in the house, and it was startling to watch humans interact with us spirits from their perspective. I forgot that that was all they saw.

I forgot how limited I was when I was trapped in my human skin.

How silly they were; it didn’t matter that they would have been seven years older than I was. Most of the people were children on YouTube, and they were the worst of them.

Sam and Colby certainly made me laugh, and their means of communicating with ghosts even more so.

There were some videos that scared me.

I liked the two a lot, and I didn’t want them to get hurt or manipulated by demonic forces. I had seen demonic forces firsthand, and humans were stupid enough to summon them. If I was afraid of them, humans definitely should have been.

The way they assumed everything was as sinister as they did made me laugh the most because the majority of spirits communicated with them were teasing them and cracking jokes. The boys took everything too seriously, but that was why they were so good.

They cared.

But one of them, Colby, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of. It was like I knew him. Warmth spread through me, and for the first time since I died, I was overcome with the need to leave. The pull teased me, beckoned me.

I was over forty years older than him; I would have never met him, so how did I know him?

Why did I need him?

I needed someone who cared about me like they did for spirits. I needed a human who cared to come in and help me. Certainly there were other humans out there who could help me like Sam and Colby, but they definitely weren’t as loud or had as much faith as they did in their capabilities.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t cry when that family left the house two days later. It wasn’t because I would be lonely again but because I couldn’t drown myself in Sam and Colby’s videos.

Or in Colby’s appearance and voice.

Hopefully someone else would stay for a week and I could use their phones to watch YouTube again.

Two weeks later, the house was booked again.

I finally learned that the house I was trapped in was turned into something called an AirBnb and I supposed that it was a house rented like a hotel.

The same routine spun into effect.

A new visitor spent the week here, I drained their batteries in everything they brought, I drowned myself in YouTube (to be honest, I drowned myself in the force that was Colby’s voice), and spent endless time spinning around the house in boredom wondering when the human chosen to save me would come.

They would come and help one day, I knew it.

The front door opened.

I was out of the bed in a flash and appeared in the foyer to see the new visitors. Two men walked in the house, and I wondered what on earth they were up to for arriving near two in the morning.

It was three years after I first learned what YouTube and social media was. I was ingrained in the politics, culture, society, and hyper-communicative world that was 2024.

I toed the fence. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to stay here and live as a free spirit in 2024 forever or be taken into the next spiritual realm. I knew I couldn’t stay forever, and with every year that passed, I felt the fabrics of my spirit being taken away into nothing.

I needed help.

When I came spirit to face with the two new visiting men, my entire world flipped upside down.

I knew them.

They were the ones with the YouTube channel.

They were—

”I know we said we would do some stuff before we go to sleep, but I literally—“

”No, I know,” the other sighed. “I’m so tired too. We got here a lot later than we planned.”

”We should just sleep then wake up a bit earlier than we planned to have more time to do what we couldn’t now.” The other nodded lazily.

”Yeah, we can do that.”

”Night, Colby,” said the blond one as he walked up the stairs.

”Night, Sam,” said the one I stood next to in between the foyer and the living room.

If I had a heart, it would have pumped loudly in my ears, and if I had a tongue, it would have dried up. Ever so slowly, I turned and looked at Colby as he pulled things from the backpack he had placed on the couch. His back faced me.

And I couldn’t control myself, the intrusive thoughts won. I wondered what he would do if I—

At the sound of his water bottle crashing into the hardwood floor, Colby whirled around with wide eyes and watched as it rolled to a stop.

“What the fuck?” He whispered. I gasped when he walked through me. I turned and watched as he picked it up and placed it back on the table. He watched it.

With a smile, I didn’t take my gaze off his face as I knocked it back onto the floor. He took two steps back.

That was when the realization dawned on me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. When I felt him, when I was near him, it made sense. The pieces shoved together painfully.

“Uh… Sam?” Colby called.

“What?” He called cautiously as he came from his room. “What’s wrong?”

”I—I swear to god, this water bottle fell off the table deliberately. Like someone knocked it over, twice.”

”Really?” He asked hesitantly when his feet hit his floor. At this point, they both stood in front of me and I crossed my arms in boredom. I was nearly as tall as the two; they were a lot smaller in person.

I was tall for a girl; almost five foot nine.

He placed the water bottle back down.

I stared at it. Humans were so dumb. I watched their anticipation knowing full well I wouldn’t satisfy them.

“What is happening, I swore it happened and it’s not now which means it’s not like the table is slanted or something.”

”That’s weird,” Sam said.

“You can go back to bed, sorry—“

”No, you’re fine, stupid,” Sam laughed as he went back.

Of course when he was halfway up the stairs with his back turned I yanked it off the table. Colby already left to the couch though, and so when Sam turned around quickly, he froze when he realized Colby was completely out of reach.

”See? I told you!” Colby cried.

”Oh shit… Yeah I have no idea how to explain that.”

”Wanna get a rem pod and the camera or something?” Colby asked.

“Maybe if something else happens.”

”Okay, okay,” Colby said, and I watched in surprise when Sam walked back to his room. They must have been tired then.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t mess with Colby until he went to sleep.

”You guys are idiots,” I said as if I expected a response. “Are you actually staying up or are you—oh,” I gasped when he turned around and walked through me before I could react. He picked up his bag and walked up the stairs. I sighed.

“That answers that.”

I peeked around the door. Colby stood in his room. I watched as he situated the things from his backpack. Those were some fancy cameras, small ones for that matter, and it looked like he charged the batteries. My eyes couldn’t pull from his skin though. He only wore his black jeans.

He turned towards me and I watched as he walked to the desk in his room. I intently focused on his face and his tattoos. He was so pretty. But he looked so different. I walked into the room and stood at the desk with him.

”What are these?” I asked and I touched the devices on the desk. Then, I gasped as his hand went through mine. My hand paused and I tried to feel the warmth. What would have been my hand burned with warmth, and I didn’t pull it away.

Colby froze in his place and stared at his hand. It burned cold.

But then he turned from the table and went back to the bed.

Now, never once in my life have I snooped. I’ve never pried, intruded, or watched anyone when they didn’t think they could be perceived. But I couldn’t leave his room. I froze in my place as I watched when he pulled his pants off. I couldn’t focus on anything else except his body. The way he moved, settled in the room, got in the bed, and plugged his phone in; every decision and every thought process was so painfully human.

I liked him a lot. Too much.

I wanted him to know I was here too.

The last time I tried to communicate with humans was with my best friends after the accident happened. After, their realtor was a bitch. There was a medium who was more so a dumbass who came to communicate with me. I scared her, and perhaps that went wrong. That might have been why it took so long for this place to be renovated.

I needed to talk to Colby. I wanted him.

I never wanted anyone as badly as I wanted him.

I stood in front of the desk where the devices were strewn about, and as he read his phone, I touched one of the devices.

I recognized one. It was a radio of sorts. One of the mediums who tried to communicate with me used it. Perhaps they were here to try to talk to me anyway.

I turned the spirit box on.

Immediately, Colby sat straight up in his bed. His phone was forgotten on the sheets. I laughed and watched as his confused eyes scanned the room.

”Hello,” I laughed. Then I used energy and found the word on a channel—

Hello

Colby looked around the room.

”Um, hi?” He said.

If I had a body, I was pretty sure the feeling I had was akin to my heart falling out of my ass.

“I know who you are, you publish on YouTube, right?”

I know you

Colby’s face turned with distrust.

“What—Are there actually spirits in this house?” He asked. I rolled my eyes.

”Obviously. You’re so dumb. I thought you know how to talk to us—

Duh…

He scoffed and his shock turned into an amused expression.

”What’s your na—“

Don’t be stupid

He stopped talking and his eyes widened.

”How do you know me? I’ve never been here.”

”You literally have 11 million people watching you on YouTube, don’t be silly,” I sighed.

You make videos

”You’re seen my—“ He gasped and thought for a moment. “How old are you? How long have you been here?”

For a long time

”I’m supposed to be nineteen,” I sighed.

Nineteen

”Nineteen—Holy shit wait, someone—the owners said a nineteen year old died here in the 70s—“

”That was totally me.”

Colby looked at the spirit box on the table and I smiled.

“Yeah,” he gasped nervously. “Are you the only spirit in the house?”

”Only one that lives here, anyway,” I scoffed.

Only one

”I’m sorry you’re alone.” I froze.

“What did you say?” I asked quietly, timidly. Silence. It defeated me.

It had been over 50 years since the accident and in all that time, no one apologized.

No one said sorry about my death or that I was alone. Not a single person had the empathy. Colby stared back at the spirit box. His eyes fell from it. He looked around the room in thought.

Suddenly, the urge ever too heavy came over me.

I glided straight over to him and I sat on the bed.

He shot up with his eyes wide.

If I had eyes, he would have looked right into them.

”Are-Are you on the bed with me?”

”Yes,” I confidently said and tried to use all my energy to tell the spirit box—

Yes… On this bed…

”Holy shit,” Colby whispered.

I felt the way his heart skipped.

The way his skin lit on fire.

I moved forward, and when I did, his skin fell cold.

”Did-Did you just touch me?”

“I’m on top of you.”

And it was true. I straddled him. I held his face in my lack of hands, and the warmth coursed through me like an electrical current. I needed him. He tethered me back into reality; the human world. That urge and that desperation to move onto the spirit realm died the moment I touched him.

Top

”You’re on me?” He rested his weight on his hands behind him. When he pushed his hips forward, a gasp left me because I felt the pressure.

Familiarity.

“I remember you, Colby. I know you, we knew each other—‘

Colby

”Why did you say my—“

I know you

“You know—oh shit,” he gasped. My vision hazed. My perception of my surroundings grew blurry as if I was about to sleep.

Heat coursed my body, and I held onto him to keep from falling asleep.

”You feel really good,” I gasped. I didn’t think about this.

We knew each other

“What?” He gasped as his body went rigid. Sexual things were so far from me. I figured that when I moved onto the spirit realm, more doors to explore sexuality would open. I never came across another human I viewed as desirable like him.

I never came across a human or spirit that felt as familiar as he was.

I knew he already had two female ghosts who liked him and messed around with him.

Good

”What’s good?” He gasped again. This time, it sounded like he was more breathless than anything.

”You.”

You

”Is that you making me feel like this? Are you touching me?” I moaned when I thrusted against him over and over. “Holy fuck—I just got so… What am I even doing?” Colby sighed more so to himself and then he laid himself back down against the bed. I gasped when he moved through me.

I looked down at him as his forearm rested across his forehead. His face was flushed and eyes were closed in thought.

I couldn’t deny the pressure under me. I knew he was painfully hard under me, but I had no intention of leaving or letting him do it himself. I looked down and couldn’t look away from his body. It was on fire, and the pressure in his underwear grew and grew.

I wish I could feel him for real with my hands and my skin.

“Holy fuck,” he moaned this time, and I moaned as well. He sounded so good like this. “I feel so crazy. Please tell me this is you doing this to me and not me—“

”I’m doing it. I’m touching you, Colby. Let me touch you.” Colby moaned again and again as I thrusted against him.

It’s me

His eyes shot open again.

Let me touch you

“Fuck, okay—holy shit—okay you’re-you’re actually real.”

”Yes,” I laughed. “I want to see you feel good.”

“If you’re actually real, get off of me and make me stop feeling like this—“

I was on the other side of the room in an instant. Colby sat up with a flushed face.

“What the fuck,” he whispered. I felt as the arousal in his body diminished. “And…” He mumbled hesitantly. “And if you’re real, get on top of me. Turn me on again.”

I blinked and I straddled Colby’s lap.

“Holy fucking—ugh.” And his head tossed into the pillow and eyes rolled back.

”Fuck,” I gasped as I watched him throw his arm across his mouth to conceal his moans.

Immediately, his arousal built again, and I thrusted against him over and over.

”You’re making me—Oh my god, don’t stop please,” Colby gasped.

You feel good

”Fuck,” he gasped.

He looked up at me and I swore he saw me. He didn't look through me, and I wished I could touch him.

Kiss him.

”You’re going to make me come.”

“Oh my god yeah, I want to see you come,” I mumbled. I would resurrect myself from the dead just to kill myself again if he knew I said that so I tried to hold in the energy. I didn’t want the music box to pick up on anything.

I tried to pull his underwear down. It was too difficult, too heavy. I was too tired. My gaze flashed around the room.

His phone.

I focused my energy on his phone and took the energy from it. The strength boiled and boiled in my being until I opened my eyes and watched as the waistband of it ever so slightly pulled back.

”Oh my fucking god—“ Colby gasped, and I cried out in surprise when he sat up straight and kicked himself away from me. “You-You fucking pulled—Are you trying to take my underwear off? Oh my god—You’re fucking real. You really are—“

“Colby it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you I want to make you feel good—“

Don’t be scared

”What?” He gasped and whirled his gaze to the spirit box.

Make you feel good

“I’m—“ he paused. He looked around the room. “I’m not scared. I can’t believe you’re communicating so well with me.”

”I’m taking power from your phone,” I said towards the spirit box.

This cell phone

Colby looked back to the spirit box.

”My phone?”

Using energy

”Oh, you’re taking the energy from my phone? Let me plug it in so you can take as much as you want—“

Yes

”Okay—“ He groaned as he leaned over and plugged it in. He left it on the table next to the bed. I didn’t give him another second to say a sentence. I pushed down against him and he drew in an uneven breath. “I can’t believe I can feel you.”

”Can you feel this?” I grinded down on him, and his arm caught another moan behind his mouth.

“Holy shit—I think I felt-I felt that. I’m so—oh my god!” I pulled at his underwear again, and this time, I pulled it halfway down. “I’m so…” He sighed into a moan, and I felt the way heat traveled down his body. His temperature rose, and I couldn’t look away. Not a second passed that I didn’t utterly consume the image of his real life human body under me.

I pushed again and again, and before his hand could reach into his underwear, he gasped a rather louder moan and spilled in the fabric.

I quickly tried to pull it back again, and this time, his underwear pulled halfway off.

“Oh my god—“ I gasped as I watched the rest of his fluids cover his stomach.

”You just fucking—You actually took them off,” he gasped breathlessly as he gathered himself together after his orgasm.

Pleasure washed through me as well, but it wasn’t as tangible as it used to be when I was alive. I was on fire, and I wanted more, anything more, but it was impossible here.

Then the tug.

I wanted to move on.

It was as if this window of pleasure piqued my interest, and I knew that if I moved onto the spiritual realm, I could live again. I wouldn’t be trapped in this purgatory.

Colby was so cute though. He was familiar; he looked like he was mine. We were each other’s. I wanted him to myself, but there was no way I could take him with me. He needed to finish living as a human first.

Then maybe I would hunt him down and rescue him from his purgatory so he wouldn’t have to live like this for 50 years like me.

“Did you leave?” Colby whispered.

”No. I’m right here.”

Here

“Okay,” he sighed and relaxed into the pillow. “I can’t believe I just had sex with a ghost—wait,” he gasped and looked around the room. “Did I fuck you? That’s so—What the fuck…”

“No, I just touched you. I wanted you to feel good. I can’t feel good until I move on.”

No… For you… I don’t feel good

”What?” Colby gasped. “You don’t feel good?”

”I can’t.”

Can’t

”Oh, because… Is sex only for human bodies then?”

”No,” I said, and reminded myself to be concise for the spirit box

”When I escape I can feel something again.”

When I escape

”You’re trapped here?” Colby gasped. The gears turned in his head and excitement welled in me.

”Help me out, please.”

Help me

”Help you do what? Do you need to move on?”

”Yes! Help me to the spiritual world.”

Yes

”Where do you need me to—”

Spirit world

”Holy shit,” Colby whispered. “You want me to help move you out of purgatory? Is that what this house is for you?’

”Yes!” I exclaimed.

He understood!

Yes

”Well then I’m getting up and telling Sam.”

If I had a body, I would scream and cry for joy.

Also, if I had a body, it would burn alive at the sight of Colby cleaning himself up, so I left the room and waited in the hallway with welling excitement.

“You’ll actually use the spirit box and not make me look like a freak in front of him, right?”

”Yeah, I’ll talk to him,” I laughed.

Yes

”Good,” he scoffed as he pulled on clothes.

“I promise.”

”Dude, that’s crazy if it’s true.” I watched as Colby told Sam what had happened and conveniently left out the part where I touched him. If he didn’t want Sam to know, then I wouldn’t expose him in that way. “Let’s see if she actually communicates as accurately as that,” Sam said as he turned on the spirit box. “Would we need to try the Estes?”

”Maybe we can,” Colby sighed. “There was a vortex downstairs, did you see it?”

”No I didn’t actually,” he gasped. “Do you want to do Estes there?”

“I’m getting bored,” I grumbled.

Let’s hurry it up

”Whoa!” Sam cried when the box spat those words out at him.

”Yeah,” Colby laughed. “She isn’t very patient.”

“Are you trapped here like Colby sai—“

”Yes!”

Yes

”Oh my god.”

”I told you!” I watched the boys as they grabbed their things. “Let's do it now.”

And as they walked through me towards the staircase, I froze with realization upon feeling Colby's body. It ached with excitement, nervousness, and…

Longing?

I followed them and listened to his heart and the rushing of his blood. Something tuned to desperation flowed with it.

It would have been much easier for me to navigate life as a human if I could feel someone’s physical attraction to me like I could feel Colby’s. I didn’t think that was possible, especially since he couldn’t see me. For all I knew, they could still be on the fence about believing that I existed.

But I couldn’t deny the way he felt. The way Sam felt. Sam didn’t hear me or feel me the way Colby did, but I could tell by the warmth of his palms and the racing of his heart that he didn’t linger in denial anymore.

“I’m not even sure how to start this,” Sam said as he sat in the chair. He volunteered himself to be under the Estes method so that Colby could lead the interaction. I stood next to Sam in the middle of the vortex; the darkened mirrors holding endless hypnotizing space hung on either side of us.

“I know, it’s fine. I’ll figure it out when we get there. I’m pretty sure I just encourage her to move on and she uses energy or something. We’ll see.”

Sam pulled the blindfold down. Headphones placed over his ears.

I felt the energy from the spirit box shrill to life.

“Did you follow us down here?”

“Yes,” I said quickly. “I’m here.”

“Here,” Sam’s monotone voice spoke for me.

“Okay good.” Colby’s voice softened. I wanted to leave, I wanted it more than anything, but I also wished I had more time to listen to Colby, to be close to him. Every time I was near him, I zapped with electricity; a desperation I never knew. What would it be like if I was human? If we knew each other back then? What would it be like if we were born at the same time in the same state?

“Why are you afraid to move on?”

“I—All this time I wasn’t afraid, I just didn’t want to leave the human world, but now I can’t leave you. I want to stay with you, Colby.”

“Oh wow…” Sam muttered.

“What?” Colby said quickly.

“That was a long—Those were a lot of words,” he laughed sheepishly. “Um…” I repeated what I said but paraphrased it to make it easier for the box to pick me up. “I wasn’t afraid of it.”

“You aren’t?” Colby gasped. “Why haven’t you—”

“Missed people.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Let me stay with you.”

“What?” Colby paused this time. “So you didn’t move on because you missed people and now you want to stay with us? Is it because you haven’t talked to anyone except for us—”

“No,” I grumbled. “I want you, Colby. No one else.”

“You, Colby.”

“Me?” He whispered. “Why do you want to stay with me? You can’t do that. You need to move on–”

“I wish we had time together then you would understand.” I wished that I could cry like humans did at that moment. I cried, but no pressure relieved me.

“We could have had more time.” Colby’s body froze as he stared in shock at Sam. Or maybe he stared through him. He wanted something to look at; he couldn’t see me. I wished I could reveal myself to him, but I didn’t know how.

“Why do you want us to have more time?”

“Because we would have been together. I could have actually probably loved you.”

“I would have…. I didn’t catch— Love you.”

“I would have loved you…” Colby whispered. “It’s too late,” he told me, but the quietness of his voice sounded like he figured it out for himself.

“I can see you again, Colby.”

“See you again… Colby, dude it keeps saying your name.”

“I know,” Colby spoke absentmindedly. He looked like he was in a trance more than Sam was even though he rocked back and forth in the Estes method. “Are—Do you know me?”

“Maybe in a past life. We can find each other in the next.”

“Past life.”

“Holy shit.” His voice was quiet and I wanted nothing more than to hug him. I stood face to face with him in the blink of an eye.

“I will see you soon, Colby.”

And I kissed him.

He blinked quickly and warm surprise flooded me when he licked his lips once.

“See you soon.” He didn't know what to say. I felt the tension in his throat.

“Don’t cry. Now tell me to leave and then you can find me when you’re done living here.”

“Help me leave.” Colby shook his head.

“No–”

“Please help me, Colby. I need to go on. You can’t stay here forever. I’ll be able to see you still and you’ll be able to feel me until one day you’ll see me for the first time. Well, for the first time in this timeline. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Please help me… You will still… I didn’t hear—Oh, You’ll still feel me.”

“I—I don’t like—”

“It’s okay, don’t be scared.” I stood in the vortex again. “Help me leave. I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t be scared. Help me leave.”

“Okay,” Colby said as he shook himself out of it. “It’s alright, you can move on. Spirits leave this house, move on to the next life.”

That tug returned, but now it was unavoidable. The mirrors lulled me into a beckoning trance.

“Move on and be free from this house.”

The mirror pulled me in, the house was unreachable now.

“Love you.”

As Sam pulled off the blindfold, Colby’s eyes darted towards mine from where I traveled through the mirror, and from the look on his face—the pure focus on me, drift of his tear filled eyes across my face—he saw me.

Then all I saw was light.

A/N: I took a much needed break. Not to info or trauma dump, but my mom moved about four hours away from me a week ago, and I only found out three weeks before that. After helping her move, it's been pretty hard for me since we've only ever lived at most 10 minutes from each other. Thanks for being patient, and I'm going to hop back on that writing grind because I miss it!

Also, Comment if you would rather read multi-chapter fics on Tumblr or Ao3. This will help me navigate where to post if I do not cross post.

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