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wh0re43van · 2 months

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And they were roommates (Peter Maximoff X Reader)

Description: You and Peter are long time best friends and now roommates. Things take a weird turn when he admits that he found your sex toy drawer.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving)

A/n: this is based off this request! I’m sorry if this isn’t up to your expectations, I’ve been having writers block. I’ve also been a bit inactive bc college rawdogging me without lube rn :/ (also I left this open to possibly a pt 2 with pegging Peter?? 🙊)

Peter sits on the edge of the couch clad in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, playing that mindless video game that he loves so much. His skilled fingers move in a blur across the plastic controller, the sound of the rapid clicks on the joy stick and buttons are drowned out by the blaring music coming out of the stereo. The music is so loud in fact, that the boy doesn’t hear you stumble into your shared home, dropping groceries and cursing at him as you stagger towards the table.

“Goddamnit Peter!” You groan after dropping off the bags of food, stomping into the living room as you dodge empty bottles of soda and dirty clothes on the floor. “Peter!” You gripe, now completely out of patience. But Peter is so fixed on the game and the music is so loud that he isn’t even aware of your arrival.

You let out an irritated sigh before ripping the cord to the stereo out of the wall. “Peter Maximoff!” You shout, crossing your hands over chest. He jumps a bit, startled by your sudden appearance, but soon enough his signature smirk is plastered on his stupid face.

“Hey babe! Where’ve you been?” He asks nonchalantly-choosing to ignore your obviously pissed off stature- as he shifts his attention back to the video game.

“Are you- oh my god,” you groan, completely exasperated as you pinch the bridge your nose. “I’ve been out for three hours getting shit for my party tonight. The one thing I asked you to do was clean up this mess!” You pace infront of the tv like a disappointed mother- a feeling you’ve become all too familiar with since renting an apartment with your man-child of a best friend.

“I don’t think four girls in their 20s getting wine drunk and talking shit for hours on end counts as a party,” Peter snickers before he zooms around you, now between you and the television with his nose nearly pressed to the screen in attempt to finish his game. Your blood is boiling at at this point.

“Beats locking yourself in your room and playing with your dick to those old VHS tapes you still have from high school,” you roll your eyes. “Atleast get with the times and use the internet,” you add with your lips pulled taught in an unamused line, you reach down to unplug the console. Peter of course grabs your hand before you reach the plug, his eyes still glued to the screen.

“And abandon my girls? Come on babe, don’t be ridiculous. We have history!” Peter snickers, unfazed by your attempt to humble and embarrass him.

Peter finally beats the level, sounding off the victory music. With a proud smile, he sits down the controller, finally giving you his attention. “Plus, don’t act like I don’t know about your drawer of toys. Neither one of us are getting laid,” Peter laughs casually as he walks back over to the couch, leaving you with wide eyes and blushed cheeks.

“What the fuck! H-how-Peter! Dude! What-what the actual fuck!” You look at him dumbfounded, now twice as furious and extremely embarrassed.

“Oh, so you can go through my stuff, but I can’t go through yours?” He smirks as he takes a swig of soda out of a two liter bottle, looking at you with pure amusement on his face.

“I-I don’t go through your stuff, Peter!” You shriek, looking down at your feet in attempt to escape his gaze. When you do, you notice a bright orange plastic rectangle on the ground amidst various snack cake wrappers. “Th-there’s a tape literally laying right here!” You chuck the VHS at him, he catches it, sitting it on the couch beside him.

“Alright you’ve got me,” Peter holds his hands up in defense with playful grin. “But you can’t blame me for snooping. You don’t exactly make an effort to keep quiet. Our rooms are right across from each other ya know,” he chuckles as he settles into the couch, wiping his Cheeto covered fingers on his grey sweatpants. “So yeah, maybe I was curious to see the loud ass vibrator that you abuse most nights of the week, and maybe I found a lot more than I was looking for,” Peter laughs at how red your face is. He’s clearly enjoying your utter humiliation.

You feel mortified. You can’t believe he would just reveal that he knows you about your dirty habits so casually. Had he seen everything?

‘Why would I keep everything on the same place,’ you internally facepalm as you imagine Peter digging through your underwear draw to see your Hitachi, the vibrating dildo, the strap.

‘Jesus Christ does he know I have a strap on?’ Panic begins to set it. ‘How long has he known about this?’ Your mind is racing almost as fast as your heart.

You swear you’ve never felt so embarrassed in your life. Despite the snow on the ground outside, you feel like your skin is on fire. You’re a clammy, stuttering mess that wants nothing more than to vanish into thin air, but you can’t even will yourself to move.

“Y-you can hear it?” Is all you dare to ask sheepishly, your eyes still wide in horror at the conversation that’s unfolding between you and your best friend.

“Mhm,” Peter snickers as he stands up, nonchalantly stretching and flexing all the muscles in his bare torso. You think for a moment that he might be flexing on purpose as he walks over to inspect the groceries you’ve brought home. “And I Gotta say,” Peter hums as he pops open the new box of twinkies you got for your party. “I’m really not impressed with the settings on that thing,” he says through a mouth full of yellow sponge cake.

You don’t know what to think of the situation. You wrack your brain trying to figure out what he’s playing at, but to no avail. He seems to be amused more than anything; at the very least he doesn’t think any less of you.

You sigh, walking over to the boy, prying the blue hostess box out of his hands. “T-these are for tonight, Peter,” you make a meek attempt of scolding him, but you can’t even look him in the eyes right now as you trip over your words. This only fuels Peters teasing.

“I’m serious babe,” he grins as he slowly rests his hands on either side of you. His bare biceps and chest tense as he grips onto the table, trapping you right in front of him. “I can show ya real speed if you’d let me,” his voice is low and silky smooth as he lets out a small laugh. You blink at him, not sure if you’re understanding him right.

“I-uh…well… if-I uhm-” Your voice is shaky as you stare up at him with wide eyes. At this point you’re sure that your face is as red as those cherry slushies that Peter always gets from the corner store.

“Am I making you nervous?” Peter asks as he leans ever so slightly closer to you. His sultry tone sends heat straight to your core.

“N-no,” you whimper. As if your tone didn’t give you away, you instinctively pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

“You’re such a bad liar,” he says lightly as puts a gentle hand on your face, his thumb pulls your lip out from under your teeth. “This always gives it away,” Peter hums.

You feel ridiculous at how worked up Peter has managed to get you. You chalk it up to being dick deprived and attempt to pull yourself together before you literally start drooling. But before you speak, Peters next words make your mind go blank.

“These pretty lips of yours are always getting you in trouble, huh?” Peters voice is husky as he drags you lip down with his thumb, focusing on your mouth with a lust laced gaze.

He’s right. Your entire time growing up together your nervous habit of chewing on your lip has always gotten you caught in your lies. It’s a little weird to think about all the adolescent trouble you and Peter got into as he’s standing only inches away from you; very obviously not that little boy anymore. No, Peter is definitely a man now- his mind may not have matured past 15, but his body absolutely has.

He brings his other hand to the back of your head as he steps closer to you. You can feel his warm breath fanning on your face, as your knees begin to go weak.

“Okay Peter that’s enough teasing. You got me. j-just clean up your mess so I can get ready for my party,” you say quietly as you examine his face, taking in how truly handsome your best friend is.

“Oh come on, we have time,” he smiles. That seductive tone is one you never thought you’d hear from Peter, and it’s definitely going to get you in trouble.

Peter dips his head down, his nose brushing against yours, making your breath hitch. Butterflies erupt in your stomach from the small contact. He teases his lips over yours, gently ghosting over the skin as if testing the waters.

The moment your lips touch, you’re a goner. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into an intense kiss. Peter laughs into the exchange as he grabs onto your hips.

You never thought of Peter in this way in all the years that you’ve known him. Sure, he’s an objectively attractive guy- anyone can see that- but he’s just never really been ‘your type’ and aside from casual flirting like he does with every woman he comes into contact with, he never showed any romantic interest in you- as far as you were aware at least. But right now, you’re completely desperate for your best friend.

The kiss quickly becomes anything from innocent as Peter grabs your ass, sitting you up on the table so he can stand between your legs. Your hands run through his hair, tugging on the silver stands as his grips onto your lower back, keeping you as close to him as possible.

Reality sets in as his lips trail down your neck where he stops to nip at sensitive skin. As you catch your breath you stutter, “W-what are we doing Peter? Are we really gonna risk our friendship just because neither of us have gotten laid in a while?”

While you are concerned for your platonic dynamic, you just can’t bring yourself to push him away. His warm lips on your skin and his strong grip on your body is too intoxicating.

“We aren’t risking anything, dude,” Peter smiles into the crook of your neck as his hands run up your thighs, his fingers disappearing under the hem of your short dress. “Just two friends helping eachother out. Nothing wrong with that,” he hums. You’re silent for a moment, considering his words.

Peter Steps aways from you, leaving you to whimper at the lack of contact.

“But if you don’t want this, I understand. I won’t press-“ he begins with a small grin as he continues to slowly back away. Without thinking, your hand shoots out, almost causing you to fall off the table. You grip his arm as you look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Please Peter,” is all you have to say before he’s back on you. Smashing his kiss bruised lips to yours.

Unbeknownst to you, Peter has been waiting for this moment for awhile. He wasn’t ‘totally in love with his best friend’ but you are the one person who knows him better than anything and his domestic partner and you’re smokin hot and he hears you masturbate in the room beside him a couple times a week- not to mention he hasn’t been with a woman in months. I mean, can you blame the guy?

You let out a small gasp as peters fingers brush against your clothed core. He gives you mischievous grin as he pulls you to the very edge of the table.

“Let’s get these out of the way,” he breaths as he slowly wraps his fingers around the waist band of your silk underwear. With in half a second, the thin fabric is gone- where to? You have no idea.- and Peter is on his knees below you, admiring your exposed core. “You must really be desperate. Damn,” the boy chuckles as he collects some of your wetness on his finger. You groan, kicking him in the arm gently. But you can’t argue with him.

“Ugh Peter if you’re going to-“ before you can finish whining, Peter has his arms wrapped around your thighs and mouth attached to your swollen clit, licking like his life depends on it. You let out a loud gasp at the sudden intense stimulation.

“At least now I know how to shut you up,” Peter chuckles against your core. Caught up in your own pleasure, you grab his hair and grind into his face. Peter let’s out a hum of satisfaction before he slips a finger in your entrance.

“Fuck,” you groan, throwing your head back. Peter is having the time of his life, struggling not to cum in his pants from how erotic you are. I mean yeah, he knew you were hot but he never would have guessed just how sexy your moans are or how good you taste. Call him a munch, but Peter could suffocate right here between your legs and die a happy man.

“Just like that Peter. Please don’t stop,” you pant out lowly, moving your hips faster against his face. You look down to see Peter who is already staring up at you. His silver strands of hair tickle the inside of your thighs as he laps at your clit desperately. The image of your best fiends head between your legs triggers a flash of embarrassment and guilt, but that’s soon forgotten as soon as you feel it.

Peter begins to vibrate his tongue as he sucks on your clit, his fingers curling directly into your g-spot with every thrust.

“Peter!” You shriek, pulling his hair. The sensation is nothing like you’ve felt before. You quickly melt into his touch as you revel in the pure pleasure shooting through every nerve in your body.

Peter replaces his tongue with his thumb before breathlessly pulling you into a kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, your legs beginning to shake from how much pleasure is flooding you system.

“I want you to cum for me,” Peter growls against your lips. You whine into the kiss as you clench around his fingers. The tightly wound rubber band in your stomach finally snaps, releasing intense euphoria through your body. “That’s it. Good girl, fuck, just like that,” Peter coos into your ear as the unholiest string of profanities he’s ever heard falls from your kiss bruised lips. You collapse into his chest, your legs shaking, head spinning, chest heaving.

“You okay?” Peter chuckles as he rests a hand on your back. You simply nod your head, trying to catch your breath. After a minute or so of recovery, you open your mouth to speak but are quickly interrupted by a loud knocking at the door. You jump up from the table, looking at Peter in horror as your release drips down your legs.

“My friends,” you gasp. Peter chuckles as he gently stands you to your feet.

“We’re not done here,” your best friend winks before he’s gone with a fwip.

In a Silver Blur, Peter zooms around the apartment. Within five seconds, the living room is spotless, the groceries are put away, and there are four glasses of wine are poured and set at the table with an organized array of the snacks you’d bought.

“Come on in ladies, y/n is in the kitchen,” Peter answers the door, allowing your friends into your home.

“Ew, why is your face wet?” One of the girls ask Peter as they turn the corner into the kitchen.

“And where’s your shirt?” Another girl asks as they exchange confused glances with each other.

“Oh-“ Well I guess Peter forget a couple crucial pieces of evidence. He wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. “What’s with the interrogation girls?” Peter chuckles as he holds his hands up.

Your face goes red in embarrassment as you walk over to great your group of friends on shaky legs- and with a bare core since you couldn’t seem to find your panties anywhere.

“Sorry, ignore him. Peters just leaving,” You smile at your friends then give peter a death glare.

“Oh, y/n, let me know once your little party is over. We need to finish that conversation,” he winks as he picks up a snack cake off the bar. As he ascends up the steps, you see your purple panties hanging out the pocket of his grey sweatpants. You send a silent prayer to every all-powerful incorporeal being you can think of that your friends did not see Peter with your underwear.

“Y/n, are you okay? What’s with-“ one of your friends begin to question.

“Wine!?” You cut her off as you offer-more or less force her to take- a glass of Pinot Grigio which thankfully is enough to shift the conversation.

You’re left in anticipation the rest of the night, half temped kick the girls out just so you and Peter can finish what you’ve started, but you decide against it. As you go commando for the next four hours, you think about how you’re going to get peter back.

#evan peters #evan peters smut #jimmy darling smut #ahs cult #kai anderson #kit walker smut #ahs fandom #ahs hotel #ahs asylum #ahs murder house #peter maximoff smut #warren lipka #colin zabel #kai anderson smut #tate langdon smut

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guacamoleroll · 2 months

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— 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖇𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘 .ᐟ · 𝔬𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔲 𝔡𝔞𝔷𝔞𝔦 ༉‧₊˚

𝖘𝖚𝖇𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖞𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖘 ⇢ "I have an idea maybe a old bookstore date with Dazai would be so cool :D"

𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙. f!reader. tooth-rotting fluff. established relationships. forehead kisses, teasing, quiant bookstores cuddling, romance. dazai is a menace to society, but secretly soft. not proofread. 1.4k+ words.

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊. this was the request i accidentally misread in this post. so sorry! it's been months since this was placed in my inbox, but i haven't been able to get around to requests in a while. thank you for patiently waiting, and i hope you enjoy! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘. an earthy aroma permeated through the air, a collection of different smells gathered from every page and cover as the warmth of the room clashed with a battering from a faltering AC unit that kicked on and off.

OR you drag your boyfriend into a bookstore, and shenanigans ensue.

The devilish brunette dared to chuckle under his breath, head held high as he paraded you down the street, hand-in-hand. For someone who had been the brunt of a heavy lecture by the agency's resident stickler, he was in a delightful mood. Not that Kunikida's scolding had ever been able to properly put Dazai in his place.

You had entered the office after an extended morning mission, only to be dragged out again; the only clue to your sudden kidnapping was the twitch of Kunikida's brow as you were flung out the door, clueless to the occurrences that had occurred moments prior. When questioning Dazai about it, he simply met your inquiries with a cat-like grin.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

You deadpanned at his obvious avoidance of the question, though quickly relented to his schemes. If there was one thing anyone knew about Osamu Dazai, it was that he always got his way, one way or another. And it was rare to have any time off, so you decided not to think about whatever strings he pulled and enjoy your time together.

You scrolled through the map on your phone, lips pursed. "Has anything new opened recently?"

"You know, we could just—"

"And no," you cut him off, striking him with your eyes. "We are not jumping off another bridge. You remember what happened the last time you decided to test gravity?"

He pouted, bottom lip jutting out. "It's not my fault. The bridge was higher than it looked."

You rolled your eyes. Dazai was such a man-child sometimes.

He perked up, his eyes sparkling. "What about that ramen shop down the road?"

"No," you grimaced, nose shriveling. "They have flies."

"The bar on the corner?"

You shook your head. "Too many rowdy guys."

He whined, flailing his arms into the air. "I give up! Just tell me—"

Only to realize that you were no longer walking beside him. He paused, staring at the empty space before his eyes dotted back. You had stopped before a window, eyes wandering across the inside of what he had surmised to be an old bookstore. He froze as you glanced up at him—he knew that look.

"No, no, no!"

RING!

He cried out for anyone to help as he was dragged inside, acting more like a toddler than a loving boyfriend as he clawed at the doorframe, only to be pulled in inevitably. The older woman at the register stared incredulously at your odd behavior, though you had long become accustomed to the stares you received in public with Dazai.

"I don't wanna go!"

"Calm down!" You pushed him into a chair in the corner with every ounce of strength. "Stay right here. I'll only be a minute."

He groaned, flopping back into the chair with a brilliance only someone in theater could muster, legs swinging over the arms of the chair as he continued to gripe to himself. You hid your laughter behind your palm, lest you incur his infantile wrath, walking into the next aisle.

He didn't want to admit that this store was quite lovely. An earthy aroma permeated through the air, a collection of different smells gathered from every page and cover as the warmth of the room clashed with a battering from a faltering AC unit that kicked on and off. And it was tranquil, not eerily so, but a stark contrast from the loud traffic outside, especially since no one else was around. It was a quaint little store that was an obvious magnet for little bookworms like yourself.

As the seconds flew by, Dazai tapped his foot to the beat of an ancient cuckoo clock that stared at him from the wall. Minutes passed, his head lolling back against the head of the chair, breath pacing to a slow point.

CUCKOO!

He had no time to brace himself, startling as he tumbled out of the chair with a thud. His groans were the accompanying chorus to the clock, which he stared at in scorn. Damn. It had already been forty minutes. What were you doing? Even through the tinted windows of the store, it was clear that the sun had begun its descent in between surrounding buildings.

He pulled himself from the uncomfortable floor and started his search, but it didn't take any time at all to find you.

"There she is."

He was about to call out, but his complaint became lodged in his throat. Instead, he hid in the next aisle, peeking between the cracks of another bookshelf. It seemed that you hadn't noticed time had passed at all, eyes glued onto the page of the book cradled in your hands. In fact, several other books were stacked next to you on the floor, awaiting your watchful eyes. Your expression could only be described as a kiss upon a cloud, fingers nestling the pages of the book with such care, eyes scanning every word as you intended to soak the story in.

A part of him felt jealous. How could an inanimate object take up so much of your time? Time that was supposed to be focused on him! But there was another part of him; he couldn't quite place it.

You finally spotted him as he rounded the corner, sparing a glance at one of the clocks as the realization struck you, turning back with a crooked smile.

"Sorry. I lost track of time."

"Here." His fingers braced against your shoulders, carefully prying your aching back from the unforgiving bookshelves as he settled in behind you, much to your surprise. "That's better."

"D-Dazai, what're you—?"

"So, what's this one about?" His arms slung around your waist, practically a second nature for him as he enfolded you in a koala-like embrace, your back snug against his chest.

You only blinked, and a knowing smirk grew on his lips. "Use your words, love."

You sputtered, slapping his arm with the book before managing to settle yourself, stifling the heat that threatened to take over your whole body.

"It's a romance novel."

He raised a brow. "Romance?" He chuckled, and you did not want to address the way the low timber of his voice made your limbs turn to mush. "While I am an expert in the field, I would love to hear what seems to strike your particular fancy."

But you met him with hesitation. "Are you sure?"

"What?" he cooed, his nose nuzzling into your neck, the warmth of his breath prickling your skin as he laid down a path of kisses along your throat. "Is it so hard to believe I want to hear your beautiful voice?"

You resisted the urge to squirm away but sighed, looking down at the page. It would be nice to read to someone, would it be?

He barely paid attention to your narration of the book itself, occupying his thoughts as he toyed with strands of your baby hairs between his fingers, his ears picking up the shift of your tone, mellifluous in nature. He hadn't processed precisely what you were saying, but he couldn't help but be enraptured in the rise and fall of your voice, filled with emotion as the story rose to a peak. Neither of you had paid attention to the kisses that he littered across the crown of your head, the motion only settling the butterflies in your stomach to sleep.

As the clock ticked forward, your words began to haze, slurring together as you crawled toward the final page.

CUCKOO!

This time, no one was startled by the intrusive sound. The sun had set into the horizon, leaving you within the glow of faded lamps and flickering lights; the book slumped over in your lap as your breath drew deeper, eyes fluttering closed. Dazai smiled, no mockery or tease, careful not to wake you as he lifted you bridal-style. He was surprised you didn't stir, not once, even while he half-hazardly managed to pay for the book with his spare cash. The woman at the counter was even nice enough to take a few dollars off, too distracted with cooing at your sleeping form.

His little charmer, even while asleep. Awfully cute.

RING!

"Osamu," you mumbled, voice lethargic as the bell and brisk air stirred you from your slumber. The incessant tease shushed you, kissing your forehead with a smile.

"Shh. Rest, love."

And he walked on into the night. Another satisfying date under your belt, if slightly unconventional. But he wouldn't have spent his day any other way. It was worth the lecture.

taglist: @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @thesilvernight0wl @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @sillyspookycat @aureatchi @mxxny-lupin

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#starring: osamu .ೃ࿐#f!reader #from: anon .ᐟ #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai #dazai bsd

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sanjismywhore · 6 months

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Scream For Us

Scream AU! Carlos Oliveira x Reader x Leon Kennedy

Warnings: nsfw, slasher kink, slight dub con, threesome

Do you like scary movies?

A/N: I know i missed halloween, don’t say anything about it

—————————————————————————

Nestled cozily upon the plush cushions of your couch, you find yourself surrendering to the allure of a horror movie.

Just as the tension in the movie reaches its peak, the shrill of a telephone breaks your immersion. Your gaze snapped away from the screen and across the room to where the phone sits, “Who the hell calls someone this late?” You grumbled inwardly.

At first, you ignored the ringing until it ceased. You were about to turn back to the movie when it persistently rang again. With great annoyance, you threw the remote control onto the coffee table and stormed over to the phone.

Plucking the handset off its cradle, you placed the device to your ear, “Hello?” You sighed into the receiver.

“Hello.” A gravely, oddly seductive voice replied on the other end. Then you were met with silence.

“Can I help you?” You asked.

“Who is this?” The man interrogated eerily.

“Who are you trying to reach?” You retort.

“I don't know.” He eerily replied with a hint of sarcasm.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “I think you have the wrong number.”

“Do I?” The voice had a mischievous edge to it, making you almost smirk. Instead of responding, however, you quickly hung up the phone.

Returning to your seat next to the television, you resumed the movie, not even bothering to rewind. But despite your attempts to ignore it, the ringing of the phone persisted yet again.

After several minutes of trying, and failing miserably, to ignore the sound, you forced yourself to get up out of your seat again and retrieve it. “Hello?” You sighed.

The voice from earlier spoke, “I’m sorry. I guess I dialed the wrong number.” You could imagine the cocksure grin on his face.

“So why did you dial it again?” You asked, clearly not amused.

“To apologize.” He replied simply.

You rubbed your eyes and sighed, “Apology accepted. Bye.” As you were about to hang up abruptly, he griped in protest. “Wait, don’t hang up.”

“Why?” You raised an annoyed brow.

“Cuz I wanna talk for a sec.” He said with a hint of playfulness.

“Well, I don’t. Goodbye.” You raise your voice before abruptly hanging up the phone yet again. When the man called a third time, though, you decided enough was enough.

“What do you want?!” You snapped into the receiver.

After an awkward beat passed between the two of you, he answered, “Listen, I was just curious about you.” He spoke casually. “Why would you hang up on me so easily? We haven't even gotten to know each other,” The man was starting to get cocky.

You pinched the bridge of your nose with a groan, “Who are you?”

“You tell me your name, I'll tell you mine.” The man continued, unperturbed by the clear irritation in your voice.

“You first.” You couldn’t help but smirk, twirling the telephone’s cord around your finger. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on longer and longer the more you waited.

The movie you were watching was still playing in the background, the only thing breaking the uncomfortable silence. “What’s that noise? You watching something?” His voice chimed in again. This time, though, his voice was laced with curiosity rather than jovial teasing.

You let out another exasperated groan into the phone and turned your attention back to the television. “Just some scary movie,” You mumbled, resting your chin in your palm.

The man chuckles, “Do you like scary movies?” His voice seemed to carry intrigue with it.

You let out a small laugh as well, “Maybe. I haven’t watched many of them recently. They make me kind of nervous, though.” You admitted, playing along with his banter.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” He inquired.

“They scare me,” You admitted bluntly. “Sometimes I’ll even get nightmares.”

There was a low hum of amusement from the other side of the line, then another moment of silence. “So, you got a boyfriend?” The man finally spoke again, causing you to choke on your breath. “Or a girlfriend, maybe?” He added, his tone suggesting a flirtatious quality.

Despite being flustered by the question, you managed to give him a sharp reply nonetheless. “Why? You interested?” You mused.

“Maybe.” Again, there was a brief pause, followed by a quiet laugh, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You chuckled softly as well, “No...” Your lips creased to form a small smile as you continued to coil the telephone cord around your fingers.

“You never told me your name.” He prodded.

“Why do you want to know?” You teased, smirking and leaning back against the sofa.

Once again there's a short pause, followed by his dark chuckle. “Because we want to know who we’re looking at.” His tone sounded much more sinister. Your eyes were instantly blown out wide. You swore for a moment your heart stopped. The air was sucked out of your lungs and you felt an icy chill run down your spine.

“E-excuse me?” You stuttered, unsure if you heard right. But you knew you heard right when he responded, his husky whisper filling your ears and making every nerve in your body tingle, “I said I want to know who I’m talking to.” He lied.

“That's not what you said.” You quickly stood up from the couch and walked towards the nearest window. Were you crazy? Was this a prank, and he was just some weirdo stalker? What the fuck was going on?

“This isn’t funny.” You pressed yourself against the glass as hard as you could, peering outside of the home in hopes of catching sight of someone standing beneath the street light, or maybe the yard. But there was nothing. Just darkness and the sound of wind whistling through the cracks of your window.

“Looking for someone?” He teased over the phone. His voice sounded deeper, it felt like his breath was close to your ear in real life. You knew there must’ve been a wide, devilish grin plastered on his face right then.

Your mind was racing as the paranoia set in; your chest rising and falling rapidly as your hands shook. You held your breath as you quickly hung up the phone, dropping the device onto the ground. Dashing into the kitchen, you grabbed a knife from the block and made sure to tread carefully around the house. Your stomach tied itself into knots as you hovered near the other windows in the house,

It felt like the temperature was rising, but all the air was being sucked out simultaneously. Your heartbeat rang through your ears, drowning out every other sound. You were practically walking in circles with your back facing the wall, observing every doorway in case a possible intruder would reveal themselves.

You began to back yourself up near the foyer leading to the front door. Inch by inch, you crept backward when suddenly your back met a firm, warm surface. “You’re looking in the wrong spot, sweetheart.” It was the voice from the phone. You felt someone’s breath tickle the back of your neck, causing your hair to stand.

Gasping, you quickly spun around to face him, eyes widening as you took his appearance in. He was tall, dressed from head to toe in a black cloak, and wore a white ghostly mask just like Ghostface.

“You should put that knife down before you hurt yourself.” He laughed, stepping towards you. His movement prompted you to take a step back, stumbling slightly as you did so.

“W-what the—How did you–” You stammered, cutting yourself off as you continued to back away. Suddenly you felt your back hit another surface.

Behind you was another man, around the same height and dressed as Ghostface too. “Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, smugness evident in his voice. He sounded just like the other one.

You were too freaked out to question anything. Instead, you raised your knife as a threat. It would prove useless though, as you were quickly disarmed when both men came closer and grabbed you.

The man behind you grabbed your knife and held the blade against your throat, keeping your back pressed against his chest. “Whatever it is you want from me, I’ll give it to you,” You muttered in defeat, looking down at the floor. “You can take my money. Take anything you want.”

“How generous.” The frontman remarked, making a gesture for the man behind you to remove the knife from your neck, “As tempting as that sounds,” he brought his face closer to yours. “That’s not what we had in mind.”

There was a short pause. “What’s your name?” He asked, tilting his head.

You hesitated a bit before answering, “(Name). My name is (Name).” You replied shakily, turning your face to the side so that you didn’t have to look at his mask.

The man behind you let out a deep chuckle and grabbed your face with one of his hands, “It’s rude not to look someone in the eyes when they’re talking to you.” He uttered.

Your heat felt like it was pounding through your chest. Maybe it was just the adrenaline coursing through you, or the fear, or the anxiousness.

Your breathing was heavier and shakier, and your body slightly trembled. Their hard bodies pressed against you. It wasn’t long before you could feel your body heating up and your palms get sweatier. Something about this situation was oddly arousing.

You couldn’t help but let out a small whimper of embarrassment, which was cut short when a finger slid under your chin and pulled your head upwards forcefully. Your eyes widened and your breaths hitched when your face was directly inches away from the frontman.

“I can see that you're scared.” He chuckled, reaching up to take off his mask. “Relax, we're not gonna hurt you.” As the mask was lifted off his face, your eyes widened slightly in shock. He had a beard and dark curly hair that hung over his eyes a bit. Despite how strong his features were, his eyes were surprisingly warm and soft. And the expression he wore caused your insides to twist into knots.

“Name’s Carlos.” He smiled, fingers caressing the side of your jaw with such gentleness, that you barely noticed it. A shiver ran down your spine, you couldn't help but blush.

The man behind you grunted, pressing himself into you. “Leon.” He rasped, taking his mask off as well. You glanced behind yourself to look at him. Compared to Carlos, Leon’s features were a lot sharper. He had blue eyes, blonde hair, and a smooth face.

Both men were equally handsome, causing you to willingly lower your guard. Something about this predicament was exhilarating to you.

Your thoughts started to warp from nervousness to a mix of fear and excitement.

But the thought was fleeting once Carlos’s voice chimed in, “Look at that.” He remarked with evident amusement, “Someone’s turned on by this.” He teased.

You felt your face grow hotter, gnawing on the inside of your lip as you soaked everything in. Your mind was screaming at you to quit having these thoughts, but your body wanted it. Your thighs pressed together to alleviate some of the tension growing between your legs.

Carlos noticed this, smirking a bit as he glanced at Leon for a moment. “You thinking what I’m thinking, Leon?” Carlos mumbled.

The two men were still smirking with amusement as they eyed you like prey. Each licking their lips, and eyes darkening with lust.

You gulped nervously, “I, uh…” Your mouth felt dry like sandpaper. No words would leave your lips, nor would any pop into your mind. You felt like you were stuck in a trance, completely incapable of doing anything.

“Spit it out,” Leon demanded calmly. “You seem to have something on your mind. Gonna beg us for mercy?” He smirked.

Before you could see it coming, both men pressed against you at once, trapping you between their bodies.

“Tell me, what would you be willing to do for us?” Carlos looked deep into your eyes as he whispered the question. Leon’s lips ghosted over the juncture between your neck and shoulders, while Carlos’s hands held your hips firmly as he loomed over you.

“Anything.” You answered, almost moaning, unable to form any kind of coherent sentence. “You can have my body. In exchange, you don’t kill me.”

Both men smirked down at you as you looked back and forth between them. “Hmm,” Carlos hummed, leaning forward slightly to press his lips softly against your ear. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer. What about you, Leon?”

Both men pressed into you simultaneously, allowing you to feel their already hardening cocks. “I have no objections,” Leon replied.

One of Carlos’s arms wrapped around your waist, holding you securely against himself, while Leon leaned in further, pressing his lips into your neck. The heat was getting more unbearable now, and you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped your lips.

They both pressed kisses against your neck, soft and light on your skin while they caressed your body. It was as though they were enjoying this way too much. They moved their lips slowly along your neck until they reached your collarbone.

Your body tensed when Carlos pressed against your chest, causing your nipples to perk up from the friction. That's when one of Carlos’s hands cupped your face as he detached his mouth from your collarbone and brought your lips to his.

Moaning into his mouth, you were too distracted to notice how they each moved a hand toward your thighs. Before you knew it, they were roughly gripping onto your thighs and grinding themselves against you.

Carlos grunted into your mouth, slipping his tongue past your lips, while Leon groaned into the back of your neck.

This all seemed to happen in a matter of seconds, but it also felt like it lasted an eternity. The feeling of their combined weight was intense as well. You could barely focus on anything else other than the sensations being thrust against you.

After several moments passed, Carlos broke the kiss. “You want this?” He whispered, breathing heavily while tracing circles over your hips with his thumbs.

“Yes,” You breathed out quietly.

Once you said that, Leon grabbed your hips and continued grinding against your backside, holding your body firmly against his. Meanwhile, Carlos slides a warm hand up your shirt, cupping and squeezing your chest

His thumb trailed lightly over one of your nipples while his other hand dipped beneath the waistband of your pants. You bit your lip harder trying to suppress a moan as his fingers brushed against your sex causing you to shudder.

Your knees wobbled, knocking against Carlos’e legs as you struggled to control yourself. You quickly moaned out, “Please,” sounding weak and desperate, causing Carlos to grin in response.

Carlos’s fingers continued to rub you until his fingers were soaked with your juices; after which he removed his hand, and you whined.

“You’re wetter than I imagined,” Carlos commented huskily. “Want me to take care of that?” His eyes met yours, boring into the depths of your soul. you were already long gone, lost to the pleasure.

You quickly nodded your head, “Please don’t stop.” You begged, grinding your hips into his to persuade him. The effort was meaningless though as he would shove his hand back into your underwear, this time teasing your wet hole.

You gasped loudly as he began to pump his fingers inside of you, making your head spin and stomach churn. You were panting heavily, your legs trembling, holding onto Carlos’s shoulders for support.

Fuck!” You choked out, burying your face in Carlos’s chest as you tried to control your arousal. You could feel your eyes starting to roll to the back of your head as you closed your eyes tight.

When Leon bit down on your shoulder, you let out a loud cry, arching up into him. He wrapped his arms around your front, almost pulling you back onto him so that he could grind deeper against you.

“That’s it.” Leon cooed, his hand grabbing your ass. “Keep moaning, sweetheart.” A moan tumbled out of you, followed by another.

They both grinned as they watched you fall apart in their arms. Carlos thrust his fingers deep inside of you, causing you to scream out in pleasure. “That’s it. Just like that.” Leon encouraged you. “More.”

Your entire body shook violently as Carlos pumped his fingers into you faster, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your body go through its euphoric state. “Mh…More..” You huffed, your head falling back against Leon’s chest.

“You want more?” Carlos raises a brow teasingly before slowing down his movements and then removing his hand altogether. Your gasp was followed by a disappointed sound as Carlos’s body pulled away.

He seemed to wink at you as he stepped back, allowing Leon to fully spin you around to face him. Without warning, he lifted you and threw you over his shoulder. You yelped in surprise, grasping his arm as he carried you across the room.

“Where are we going?” You asked, your voice shook from the initial shock.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Leon uttered as he continued to carry you. Soon you were deposited onto the sofa, lying on your back while Leon stood beside the couch beside your head and Carlos kneeled between your legs.

Leon’s hands found the hem of your shirt, ripping it upward until your chest was exposed to the cool night air. Carlos teased your nipples with his fingers, causing your breath to hitch as you squirmed in his grasp.

While playing with your nipples, his tongue darted out to swirl around one. You whimpered when the sensation of Carlos’ teeth dragging over your skin as he sucked your nipples harshly.

Carlos released one nipple, only to suck on the other while looking at you. Your eyes fluttered closed when he licked down your chest, sucking gently on a spot that made your entire body shiver.

Carlos leaned closer to nibble on your chest, his fingers circling your nipples tightly. His fingers dug into your flesh before as his lips traveled down your body.

“Oh god,” You moaned, your hands clutching onto the sofa cushions.

After licking up down to your navel, he glanced up at you and then stopped. “How long can you hold your breath for?” Carlos asked suddenly.

Suddenly, there was an abrupt change in the atmosphere. You were briefly stunned by the random question, “Huh? I don’t know.” You blinked, staring up at Carlos who still sat between your legs. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious is all,” Carlos replied nonchalantly before resuming his teasing of your body.

Before you could even blink, you felt Leon grab your arms and pull you toward the end of the couch. Your head hung upside down off the edge, completely helpless to whatever he was going to do to you.

You were met with Leon’s cock and balls in your face. “Open your mouth,” Leon demanded, his voice low and rough.

It wasn’t necessary. As long as you had a chance to breathe, you weren’t gonna turn down this opportunity. Opening your mouth wide, you obediently accepted him into your mouth.

He was slow and gentle as he thrust into your mouth. You tried to suck him down as best as you could, but soon enough, he started fucking your mouth harder, pushing his shaft deep inside and hitting the back of your throat as he did. Both of his hands wrapped around your neck, keeping you steady in the process.

Leon let out a low, satisfied groan each time he thrust into your mouth, to which you would gag with discomfort. Soon blood started to rush to your head and it became harder to breathe through your nose. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, gurgling against Leon’s cock.

Your hands were now desperately clawing into the sofa cushion underneath you as Leon continued to fuck your face. When your throat abruptly closed around his cock, he hissed out. “Fucking Christ.”

His grip on your neck tightened causing you to let out a strangled groan against him, which prompted Leon to slam his thick cock deeply into your mouth again.

“Take it.” Leon continued letting low growls of pleasure escape his lips and he continued to pound hard into you. He was enjoying himself more now. Each stroke of his cock against your mouth was accompanied by some sort of grunt or groan that made your core tingle.

Too distracted by Leon, you failed to notice Carlos’s breath fanning against your inner thighs. Your underwear had been carefully peeled off, and it seemed like Carlos was planning to take you with his mouth.

First, you felt his lips graze your sex, making you squirm and gasp against Leon’s cock. He took you in his mouth, circling his tongue around you and sucking harshly. He continued moving his tongue across your opening, taking you in as far as possible without actually swallowing you whole.

Your moan sent vibrations down Leon’s cock, causing him to twitch in your mouth. “Fuck, keep it up, Carlos.” He grunted, prompting Carlos to continue hungrily tongue-fuck your hole. You were struggling to remain still, legs quivering and hips bucking against his tongue, trying desperately to stay conscious and not pass out from lack of oxygen.

You raised your arms to tap on the back of Leon’s thigh, signaling to him that you needed to breathe. Instead, he pushed deeper, stopped moving, and held himself inside your mouth. You instinctively gagged and squirmed against the restriction of Leon’s weight and the fact that you couldn’t draw a full breath.

“Shit.” Leon moaned at the feeling of your throat closing around him.

Carlos only chuckled against your sex, plunging a couple of fingers inside you to accompany his skilled tongue. He thrust them deep inside you before curling his fingers against that spot that made your back arch. You clenched around his fingers and tongue as your eyes rolled back into your skull.

“Oh, they liked that.” Carlos chuckled against you, removing his tongue but keeping his fingers still inside. He pumped deeper and harder, kissing your inner thighs.

You swallowed around Leon’s cock again, urging him to let you breathe. Slowly, he withdrew his glistening cock, allowing your saliva to drip onto your upper lip and eyes. You gasped for air, shuddering and moaning heavily while Carlos continued to give you head. You felt your hips bucking against Carlos’ hand, begging for more stimulation.

He grunted against you, hooking his arms under your thighs and pulling you flush against his mouth. You squirmed against him, feeling the tip of his tongue press against your slit as he thrust harder against it.

“Shit, don’t make them cum yet,” Leon grunted as he stroked his cock in front of your face. Another breath later, he positioned his cock at your lips yet again. This time he allowed you to control the pace.

You stuck out your tongue and swirled it around the head of his cock. A warm sensation slowly spread throughout your whole body as Leon let out a moan, throwing his head back slightly. “Oh fuck,”

Leon kept his hips motionless, waiting patiently for you to suck him off so he could feel how much you wanted him. The longer you went without actually taking him in your mouth though, the more frustrated he got. But he said nothing else before pushing himself forward with his hips.

He opened his legs wider, thrusting deep into your throat to the point it bulged with each stroke. Leon began to rock his hips back and forth, grunting lowly. “Yeah, c’mere.” He grabbed the sides of your neck and forced you to swallow his length fully.

You instantly felt it slide down your throat, sending shocks of electricity down your spine as your jaw locked tightly around the base of his cock.

Carlos’s mouth and hands pulled away from you, only to be replaced by the head of his large cock sliding against your entrance. The precum that was beading at the tip mixed with your fluids, lubricating his shaft so that he could easily slide into you.

Carlos groaned as thick cock slid into your hole, planting both hands on your hips. “Fuck, you feel good.” He purred, lifting one of your legs onto his shoulder so that he could fuck you nice and deep while stimulating your sex with his hand.

Your body arched back against the couch, your eyes rolling back into your skull, and tears streaming down your cheeks. It was such an intense sensation. Every stroke caused you to writhe beneath Leon’s weight, making it even worse as each one sent shocks of ecstasy through your body.

Both men groaned lewdly when you clenched around them from both ends. Carlos’s movements were deliberate and controlled, whereas Leon’s movements were sloppy and erratic.

“C’mon, swallow me whole,” Leon grunted deeply, slowing down his thrusts just to make you deepthroat his cock. You obeyed him immediately and gulped his entire dick down your throat.

Leon grunted, lolling his head forward. “Fuck,” He bit his lip, slamming his hips harder against yours, griping your throat loosely. His eyes closed, mouth open slightly as the pleasure from his cock shot up through his entire body.

He grunted loudly as you swallowed him fully. “Goddamn, I’m close,” He cursed, tightening his hold around you while he thrust deeper. He began to quicken his pace, filling you up until there was almost no room left for anything else.

Leon’s face was flushed red with exertion as his movements grew quick and sloppy. His cock throbbed violently in your mouth, signaling how close he was. Just as he was about to lose it, he pulled his cock from your throat quickly, stroking his cock furiously.

With a deep growl, Leon shot his load all over your face, pumping himself through his orgasm. It was a harsh release that forced you to gasp and sputter with every pump. Some of his releases landed in your mouth, lips, and even your chest. You did your best to swallow everything down. The sight of the white liquid dripping from his dick was utterly sexy to watch

As Leon came down from his high, he released you from his tight grip and took a step back from you.

You took the opportunity to catch your breath, letting out a soft moan in the process when Carlos suddenly thrust deep and hard into your hole.

“My turn,” Carlos grinned as he firmly held your thighs, dragging your body towards so that your head could settle fully on top of the couch cushion. This swift action allowed the tip of his cock to graze the spot inside you that made you see stars.

Your eyes shot open, head lifting to look Carlos in the eyes while he fucked you. As he pounded into you relentlessly and your hole contracted violently around his shaft every time he slammed into you.

“F-fuck…” You threw your head back, gripping the edge of the couch to ground yourself while the pressure built within you with every hit, your sex throbbing uncontrollably underneath Carlos. In your dazed state, all you knew was that you needed this.

“C’mon, baby,” He growled as he pounded into your tight hole, causing you to jerk your hips upwards. “Tell me what you want.” He continued to slam into your entrance relentlessly, rubbing your sex passionately as if he knew how to make you cum hard. You could feel yourself clench around his cock, causing him to groan in pleasure.

““Deeper…” You begged, arching your back further so that your insides could rub against his dick. He smirked devilishly as he pressed down on your hips to increase the friction between your bodies.

Leaning down, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, tasting remnants of Leon on your tongue. Your legs wrapped around Carlos’s waist while his free arm snaked around your back, supporting most of your weight as he thrust deep into you.

You gripped onto the cushions above you and dug your nails into the fabric, clenching your teeth tightly together to muffle any sounds of pleasure.

“Oh no you don’t,” Carlos growled, “Let me hear you scream.” He demanded, digging the tip of his thumb against the spot that drove you crazy with pleasure. He pressed hard against the spot that caused you to tighten around him.

“I wanna cum, Carlos! Please!” You held onto him for dear life, moaning loudly. His fingers tightened around your hips and he grunted deep against your mouth. The two of you rocked together, grunting and growling into each other's mouths as sweat dripped down your foreheads.

“Please...I need this….I need y--oh fuck!” You cried out as a wave of bliss hit you like a train. Tears spilled from your eyes. It had been far too long since you felt like this. Too long since you felt this full.

A loud groan erupted from Carlos’s lips, “Fuck yeah, cum on my cock.” You could feel yourself being lifted from the couch cushion slightly to allow Carlos better access to your hole.

It wasn’t possible to describe how good it felt to completely come. Everything felt lightheaded as if you were floating high up in the sky. You were dizzy and lightheaded as you tried to take in as many air molecules as possible.

As he pushed deeper into you, you shuddered under him, letting out another cry. It felt so good having him so deep inside of you. It felt so good to have him touch you so intimately. The feeling was overwhelming. You wanted more. You needed more.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to him. “God damn,” Carlos gritted his teeth, holding you so tightly that his muscles tensed. “You feel fucking fantastic, baby.” He moaned as he began to thrust harder than before.

One moment, you were gasping and panting heavily for air. The next thing you knew, you were moaning into Carlos’s mouth.

Carlos grunted loudly once again, his grip loosening around you but still keeping you trapped in his embrace. “Fuck, oh fuck.” His voice shook into your ear. He felt his balls tighten and his cock begin to twitch uncontrollably.

The feeling of him pulsing against your inner walls was so good that it sent tremors shooting through your entire body. Carlos grunted loudly, pushing himself as deep as his dick would go, grinding his pelvis against your sex in circular motions.

You squirmed beneath his weight, grabbing onto the sides of his biceps. “Don’t stop..” You panted, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “Cum…inside me.” You begged.

Carlos laughed loudly as he continued pounding into you, plunging deeper and deeper. “Hell yeah, I am.” He growled, “Gonna fuckin’ explode.” His breathing became ragged as his climax threatened to overtake him.

You gripped him desperately as your body trembled uncontrollably. “Please, I need you to fill me up.” You whimpered. Carlos smirked. “Oh, I am going to fill you up, baby. Don’t you worry.”

His thick erection was so engorged that it was leaking precum inside you. “Please,” You begged, squeezing his forearm gently as you felt his dick twitch rapidly within you. “Please..” Your voice broke at the thought of not being filled soon.

You bucked your hips against Carlos’s, desperate to relieve the unbearable feeling building within your core and sending sparks of ecstasy throughout your entire being. “Alright, alright, alright,” Carlos gasped, moving one hand up to grasp at your lower back.

Soon he reached his tipping point, filling you to the brim with his hot cum. He pumped his hips wildly, making you grind up against his dick in slow motion. His eyes screwed shut as he released into you, shuddering after he emptied himself.

After the intense orgasm subsided, he slowly moved off of you, standing up from the couch. Leon joined him and stood as well. “Why’d you get to cum inside?” He grumbled as he slid his pants back on.

“They wanted it,” Carlos shrugged, giving you a side glance. “If you’re so upset about it, you can cum in them next time.” He uttered.

You perked up at his comment, sitting up on the couch as both men got dressed. “W-what do you mean next time?” You questioned.

Carlos smirked as he slid his boxers on, “You thought this was a one-time thing?" Carlos chuckled, “We’ll be back, sweetheart. That I can guarantee.” He winked, kneeling beside the couch so that you two were face to face.

He grabbed your face, pulling you closer. “So don’t be alarmed if you wake up with my cock down your throat.” He teased, pecking your lips once before pulling away from you.

Leon approached you from behind, clasping a large hand over your mouth. Before you could try to fight back or scream, you were knocked unconscious.

In your final moments of consciousness, you heard the men eerily chuckle, “See you soon, (Name),” and then you succumbed to darkness.

#x reader #fanfic #smut #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira #carlos x reader #carlos oliveira smut #carlos oliveira x you #re3 carlos #resident evil x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil leon #re4 leon #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader

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chrollohearttags · 6 months

Text

kinktoberfest • reiner braun

show: attack on titan

kink: foot play

word count: 2.0K

content + themes: foot job, toe sucking, perv reiner, football player rei, tit fucking, mutual masturbation, cumshot

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.

if he had seen one, he’d seen them all…tall, short, dark and bright, cute and ugly…suede and leather? Some would assume that he was referring to the types of women he had come across in his lifetime but that was the furthest thing from. Especially at the moment..as he sat in the shared master bedroom of the two story mansion you called home. Releasing heavy sighs whilst watching you toss out this pair of Manolos and that pair of Louboutins behind you from the massive walk in closet. To say he was growing weary would be an understatement. He had been there for what felt like hours, watching you try on a plethora of shoes and dresses. It was rather daunting but for his beloved wife? He’d do practically anything!

“Rei!” “Yes, sugar? What is it?” “What do you think of these?”

Reiner Braun: five time Heisman winner, all star quarterback and world famous football star..dwindled down to glorified styling assistant as his wife, (y/n) tried on what had to be the fiftieth pair you’d come across. The occasion? An upcoming charity banquet hosted by a bunch of celebrities and Reiner happened to be one of the guests. In truth, he couldn’t wait for it to be over so all of this could cease. “They look good, poundcake. I like them.” However, there was a bit of a positive to this whole ordeal..you looked stunning in those shoes. Something about watching you strut about in those stilettos was..rather sexy. He’d never admit it, out of fear of sounding like an absolute freak but he’d love nothing more than to have you pressing that heel to the center of his chest or have it dangling over his shoulders right now. Just then, you’d take a seat in front of him, plopping down in the chair. Keeling over in frustration..

“What’s the matter? They all look great. No need to be upset, sugar.”

“I know and that’s the problem. I’m never going to be able to find the perfect pair.”

folding your arms and releasing a heavy winded sigh, (y/n) tossed your head back and glared up at the ceiling. You were so incredibly frustrated but in his eyes? You were making a fuss about nothing! What was the big deal anyways? You’d be wearing a long gown that was certain to have all eyes on you regardless so why would they matter? “For God sakes, babe. It’s just a pair of shoes. What could be so important?” However, if only he knew..he would’ve kept his damn mouth shut and not asked that! Rising straight back up, Reiner was met with a rather cross glare. See, being the star..he never had to worry about those sorts of things. All eyes would be on him regardless and everyone would love him either way. It was the wife who’d be nitpicked apart for every little detail. It didn’t help the fact that you didn’t exactly look like the rest of the stereotypical trophy spouses either so they’d be grasping at straws by now. “Are you kidding? I wear something out of style or the wrong color and they’ll grill my ass. One wrong outfit and I’ll be labeled as the girl who can’t dress.”

honestly, he thought it was hilarious! Making all of this fuss about this when your entire closet costs more than most people’s rent. Besides, you had impeccable taste. Even so, he’d never be able to convince you otherwise. So rather than listening to you bellyache and gripe about absolutely nothing of importance, Reiner simply dredged your legs up to his laps and placed your feet in the center of it. In one fell swoop, he’d drag the plush chair towards him and bridge the gap between you. “You wanna know what I think? I think that you need a break..” “b-but!—“ “But nothing, sugar. We still have four days. I’m sure you can find something then. If not, go buy a new one. Hell, go buy fifty if it’ll make you happy. But stop worrying that pretty little head of yours, okay?” It was so like him..so typical of this man to talk you off of the deep end when you were freaking out. Whilst you were in the middle of your rant, he was discreetly removing that current pair and massaging your rather sore soles instead. Trying on twenty plus pairs consecutively would make anyone’s feet hurt. Although, that wasn’t his entire reason. There was a bit of underlying selfishness to it as well..

“You’re right, papa. I’m sorry..it’s not that serious.” Chuckling to himself, Reiner continued kneading his fingers into your flesh, trying to relax those tendons. As he did so, he’d also bring your ankle and instep to his lips and place soft pecks on both. “That’s my girl..” but he didn’t stop there..he couldn’t even if he wanted to. And you didn’t exactly want him to either. On top of those long legs being accessorized with those cute shoes, you were sporting nothing more than a tiny lace teddy and to his surprise…with no panties on either; catching faint glimpses of that unsheathed little slit. Just then, a light grunt would arise from his throat as your legs parted slightly once again. Especially when he heard a whimper leave your throat as well.. “..that actually feels really good.” You most certainly needed it with the way they had been feeling. He’d press his fingertips into the curvature of your foot, wrinkle your toes and even rub up to your calves. The two of you sat there with the bridge between your bodies growing much smaller. His stubble grazing your skin and that gold anklet with his name engraved on it. By now, he had practically spread you open without you so much as even realizing and to your shock..

“..I can tell.” It was so blatantly obvious by the coat of slick on your mound and protruding clit. He would like to think you chose this particular attire on purpose but either way, he wasn’t mad..not in the slightest. The funniest part was that you didn’t try to deny it. Maybe you were equally as perverse as he was but you didn’t go get those expensive pedicures every other week and get those cute little toenails doused in white just for show…you got them done so your husband could have them in his mouth while he deep stroked you later that night! With deviant glares shrouding both of your faces, Reiner continued his onslaught of tender kissing of your ankles and toes, even flicking his tongue across them whilst looking directly into your eyes. He was intent, focused and determined to get you loosened up, which seemed to be working by the looks of it. Just that quick, you had managed to get him equally aroused; spotting an unmistakable bulge in his gray sweatpants. His shirtless torso showing off those impeccable abs. Cradling your foot with one hand, akin to the way he’d done those footballs previously, he began lacing them with sloppy pecks before placing them in his mouth and suckling. The glare in those beautiful brown eyes of yours told it all:

“…shit..Rei.” Causing you to squirm in your seat, attempting to feign off those pangs of pleasure but all you’d end up doing was rutting yourself against the cushion..furthering your desire. But just as you did so, you’d feel that imprint underneath your opposite foot grow larger, practically swelling. When he had a woman this beautiful, it took next to nothing for his dick to get hard. Especially when you were into the same taboo quirks he was.. “..play with yourself.” Muttering in that grovely tone. Only repeating it as he glided his tongue up the side of your instep and nibbled at your ankle once more. “Play with that pussy f’r me. And don’t take that foot off of me either. Keep it right there.” Absolute in what he said, you’d follow his command; slowly removing your breasts from the top of that ensemble and lifting the bottom portion to expose your heat to the cool air. Those nipples were super erect and that cunt was dripping. Kneading your fingers into those round, juicy tits..(y/n) brought them up to your mouth and began suckling those stuff buds whilst rubbing on your clit. He could hear that slick being drummed up and it sent your husband into a tailspin. He was so horny right now, it made no sense. It was taking all of his restraint to not put you on this floor, pin you down and drill your shit right here. But alas, this was a little more fun. The constant teasing, the subtle foreplay and mutual freakiness between you two. Who else would be into something like this? Massaging those fingertips over your parted plumpness, you’d toss your head back; titties swaying as you impaled yourself on those digits..bouncing up and down on them, hoping to have them replaced with his thick cock soon. For now, you’d allow him to continue savoring your toes and enjoying his rather peculiar and taboo fetish; pedaling the opposite foot against his hard on. Grunting and moaning, Reiner promptly shuffled that elastic waistband down until his entire erect sprang forth. It was swollen..all eight and a half inches standing at attention and seeping with precum; apparent by the formed stain on his pants. That mushroom tip beaming red and ready to use something to relieve that pressure. He’d immediately wrap that palm around his shaft and begin stroking. Softly shuffling it up and down from the base to the tip; smacking those full balls in the process. He shouldn’t have been this aroused by your feet of all things but his infatuation with you ran throughout the entire body. That was the effect you had on him. You’d continue bringing yourselves to the edge. “Fuck..got me so hard right now, sugar. I don’t know what to do..look what you did to me.” That mischievous chuckle and grin returned as he watched you grinding on those digits, wishing they were the real thing. The power you held over him was insurmountable. Still working yourself over, you’d giggle as well, whining so helplessly.

“Fuck..get on your knees, baby. Get on your fucking knees..”

hissing through gritted teeth as he ushered you to the ground. Reluctantly removing your toes from his mouth. With those breasts still unclothed, Reiner positioned you before him; resembling an obedient little slut, he’d impatiently grope your tits..maneuvering until his cock was nestled between them and he’d make haste in fucking them. Bucking his hips forward, Reiner growled whilst using your flesh to his satisfaction. Pumping himself through the tight confines of those squeezed breasts. Utilizing his own precum as lubricant to make it easier to push through the tightly formed orifice. To say your husband was losing his mind may have been a gross understatement. After working himself over, you’d notice that his breath was beginning to falter and his strokes became uneven..a sure fire signal that he was growing closer. It wouldn’t be long before he began to twitch. You’d press your hands to the sides of your chest, closing the gap and making it more compact..thus prompting him to come..

“Nut on them, baby. Go ahead, let it out.” Even extending your tongue and closing your eyes to prepare for it. Only seconds later did you feel him come to a halt and hear a loud grunt leave his throat. It was then that you’d feel the damp warmth splattering all over your tongue, face and tits; painting you with every droplet of his cum. Grasping your chin, Reiner then placed a gentle kiss atop your forehead, amid the laughter that followed from the two of you.

“That was fun.”

“Yes it was..thank you sugar.” Swiping the remnants from your eyes. It hadn’t even dawned on either of you that you had just gotten off in the most strange of ways. But it could be your dirty little secret..no one had to know.

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thresholdbb · 2 days

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I have a gripe about the Star Trek mugs...

Picard's teacup is a delicate, fragile little thing held by a strip of plastic and a dream. That thin glass will break if you look at it sideways. And where do they put that ridiculous tiny cup? On the Enterprise, which is always being dragged into conflict

The DS9 raktajino mugs are hefty, wide-based things that are meant to not tip over. They're called no-spill mugs. They have a foam piece on the bottom so they don't slip. They're incredibly sturdy – meant for ships and traveling! Where do they put them? At the station, which is arguably the most stable place they could be cause DS9 rarely gets knocked about.

Far as I'm concerned, Janeway's the only one doing practical space mugs correctly. Come on, a metal travel mug that's as strong as her coffee is black? Takes a beating through 70,000 light years of bridge shakes fighting off the Borg and the Hirogen and still holds a hot drink? Now that's a space mug

#is this the spoon post all over again? am I just insane about dishware?#it's 3am and I'm ranting about space mugs #believe me Picard's teacup is fragile or I just had a bad one #I broke one by putting a butter knife in it doing dishes smdh #I know they all have more mugs but we're talking about icons #I exclusively drank coffee out of the Picard mug until it broke then I retired it #the defiant mug gets a pass cause it's basically the proto Janeway mug they're both thermos Nissan #and the iconic ds9 mug is the raktajino mug I don't make the zeitgeist #inevitably someone is going to come at me for the defiant mug cause this is tumblr where ds9 lives #it's not called Star Trek Defiant though is it?#you say ds9 mug people will think raktajino ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#I have a collection of screen accurate mugs I have a draft somewhere ranking them all #I drink out of the raktajino mug more than Janeway's mostly because hers is impossible to find and honestly the no spill is a good mug #don't get me started on how hard these mugs are to clean #I will fight you about this

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shakespeareanwannabe · 1 month

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As You Wish, Chapter 7

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Potential Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, panic attack, drinking, sadness, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, references to babies, swearing, references to the hospital

Top Gun, almost 12 years ago

When Payback was standing on the tarmac of the training field as they landed, Bob knew it was go time.

It had been odd enough flying without Bagman the past few days; the blond lieutenant opting to take a few days leave as his new wife approached and passed her due date, and Bob found himself almost missing the sarcastic comments shared over comms and the easy way that his new brother-in-law was able to push the other members of their team to their limits. It wasn’t always great for morale, but there was a reason they were the best team the Navy had to offer.

Bob hopped down from his seat behind Natasha and took off running towards Reuben, who he had handed his phone to before takeoff. The older pilot knew a thing or two about impending parenthood and had suggested holding onto the uncle-to-be’s phone, just in case any news broke about the delivery of the twins.

Twins. His sister was having twins. With Hangman. As much as Bob had fought her on her relationship with the cocky aviator, there was no denying how happy the couple had been over the course of the past year. Sure, they had moved fast (too fast, in Bob’s opinion), but that’s the way Hangman operated. His mind moved a million miles an hour in his cockpit, and he saw no reason to slow it down when he was on land.

“Text just came in about ten minutes ago,” Reuben called when Bob was in earshot. “She labored all day and all night, and the girls were born around 2 this morning. Mom and girls are doing fine.”

Bob felt his smile stretch so wide he was surprised his face didn’t break.

“But it’s almost 6 now,” Natasha griped, standing over his left shoulder. “What’s with the hold up?”

Reuben chuckled. “Would you want people all up in your face after over a day of labour and delivery, Phoenix? Or would you want some time to soak up all the lovin’ of those two little angels before you had to share them?”

“I’d want to soak up all the love, that’s the point.”

While Bob tended to agree with her, he knew that this was all part of his sister’s plan. She was a private person at heart and hated being the center of attention. She especially hated feeling like people were waiting on her. So, it made sense that she would’ve held off on announcing the birth of his nieces until she’d had time to adjust.

“Bob, you okay?” Reuben asked, realizing that the WSO hadn’t said a single word since landing. “You with me?”

Bob nodded, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Thanks, Payback.” He reached out and took his phone back from the older member of their team.

He grinned and patted him on the shoulder. “You wish the new parents congratulations from me and Lori, alright? We’ll be by to visit when we’re allowed. But it sounds like you’ve got permission already, Bob.”

Bob glanced down at the message from Hangman, which did indeed invite him to the hospital to meet the newest members of his family.

“C’mon,” Natasha held up her car keys. “I’m driving.”

“You—”

“Probably wasn’t invited, was I?” his partner smirked. “But you’re shaking like a leaf, so I’m doing the team a favour and driving you. And, if I get to meet the babies before Javy and Rooster, that’s even better.”

London, England, 24 hours ago

Charlie sat at the high round kitchen table, poking at the cheese and crackers she had assembled for her midday meal as Auntie Nat raced around the kitchen, half a bagel stuffed in her mouth as she prepped her coffee.

When she’d woken up that morning, Uncle Bob had been halfway out the door for work. A schedule that consisted of bouncing from London to Frankfurt to Barcelona and, finally, home ensured that he would be home in time for Jeopardy and dinner but had left her with her surly aunt and her mom, who had been locked into Zoom meetings all morning in her office. Not that she was complaining. While the first few days had been a difficult adjustment, dealing with the time change and the customs of her new home, she absolutely adored her life in London. Her Uncle Bob was just as awkward and funny as she had been told, Auntie Nat was everything she had ever wanted in an aunt, and her mom? Her mom was better than she had ever dreamed. They had spent hours together, reading together and tossing ideas around about Mum’s latest book, going out to eat, watching trashy reality shows while eating ice cream. Mum kept reminding her that things would go back to normal when she went back to school but wanted to keep things loose for the last few weeks of summer because she had missed her so much. It was kind of nice to have a relaxing morning at home with her aunt while waiting for her mom to be freed from work.

“Alright, kid, I’m off,” Auntie Nat announced, breezing past her with her arms loaded down with gym equipment and water bottles. “Have fun with your mom tonight, and remind her to eat something before her book signing, okay? You don’t want to deal with a hangry Buttercup, believe me.”

Charlie grinned at her as Nat paused in front of the large mirror next to the door, putting down a water bottle to touch up the makeup that concealed the angry red edges of the scar that bisected her left eye, a remnant from the battle that had taken Maverick’s life and Natasha’s clearance to fly. Abby had told her that Nat still got self-conscious about the scar and warned her not to stare too much at it, but that hadn’t been a problem. She’d seen worse scars on the cowboys and cowgirls who worked on the ranch. Hell, one of their best breeding experts was a man with four fingers on one hand and only one ear. Scars didn’t exactly scare her.

“I will. Have fun at work!” Nat winked at her through the mirror before gathering her belongings and jetting through the door, allowing it to fall closed with a thud.

Feeling a short, staccato vibration in her pocket, Charlie tugged out her phone and checked for any new message from Abby. Her sister (it still thrilled her to be able to say those words) had been keeping her up to date on the ranch and the lives of the men who lived there. Last they had spoken, Abby had been excited about going on a trail ride with dad, and Charlie had shared a few tips on how to navigate Jake’s favourite trail. They both hoped that the trail ride would be a good opportunity for Abby to start digging into what went wrong with their parent’s marriage, while Charlie was angling for an opening to bring up the same topic with their mother. Thus far, all attempts had been foiled on both their parts, but neither of them was willing to give up without a fight.

Charlie clicked onto the messaging app and read the most recent message.

A: Does dad have a girlfriend?

Charlie snorted. Sure, she’d heard rumors about her dad from Rooster and Javy, how he had all the ladies drooling when he was in the Navy, but that couldn’t be further from the truth now. Besides, there was no way her father could hide a whole girlfriend from her.

C: LOL no he’s got no game

But…those rumors had to have started somewhere. And her father, as dorky as he was, had managed to date and marry her mom, who was the coolest woman Charlie had ever met. And she’d been gone for six weeks at camp. If so much had changed for her in those six weeks, there was no telling what could have changed at her home in Texas.

C: Why??? 👀

Abby’s response was sent almost immediately, as though Abby had had the message waiting to send.

A: Because there’s a random blond lady hanging out in the kitchen and he’s calling her baby

Charlie bit her lip. It didn’t sound like her dad…then again, her dad hadn’t done much dating because he’d been busy with her and the ranch. Still, he wouldn’t just hide a girlfriend from her, would he? Feeling a dark cloud begin to drift over her head, she replied.

C: You sure it’s him and not Rooster?

C: Uncle Roo has lots of hookups 🤢

A: Pretty sure I know what he looks like, thanks 🙄

Charlie tamped down a bolt of anger. It wasn’t Abby’s fault. She was just looking for information and they’d both inherited their mother’s penchant for sarcasm with their father’s ego. Abby didn’t deserve to have her head chewed off just because Charlie was asking stupid questions.

C: You didn’t until a couple of weeks ago, smartypants

“Hey babe, sorry about that!”

Charlie nearly threw her phone across the room as her mom came into the kitchen, dressed in a stylish pair of black palazzo pants and a pretty cream coloured sleeveless top.

“H-hi mum!” Charlie chirped, flipping her phone face down and grinning.

“You okay?” Buttercup’s brow furrowed.

“Fine! I was just looking up restaurants around the bookstore. Auntie Nat wanted me to remind you to eat before the book signing.” Charlie flipped the little switch on her phone to shut off notifications as Abby’s replies started buzzing in.

Buttercup rolled her eyes fondly. “Listen, a girl gets hangry one time, after 27 hours of labor and not being allowed to eat due to archaic hospital policies, and she’s never allowed to live it down.”

Charlie grinned. “But would you really want to get hangry a second time in front of your adoring public?”

Buttercup grinned. “I suppose not. But it would make for one heck of a story, wouldn’t it?” Despite her words, Buttercup dug into the fridge and pulled out a slice of leftover pizza, taking a large bite as she leant against the marble countertop next to the sink. “You know, you don’t have to come with me to the book signing, love. It’ll be super boring, and I could just have a driver pick you up and bring you to the restaurant by the theatre for dinner. I’d come get you myself but you know me. Once I walk back in the door tonight, it’s yoga pants and ice cream for me.”

“No, mum. I want to come!”

Buttercup fixed her with a look as she took another bite of pizza. “You do? You want to sit and watch me talk about the book I can’t finish and sign my name a gazillion times instead of staying home and doing whatever the cool 12-year-old girls are doing?”

“Yep!” Buttercup’s suspicious look lingered as she polished off her pizza. “What? Can’t a girl want to hang out with her mum over summer holiday?”

“She can…but she also hasn’t seen her friends since she left for camp. Are you sure you don’t want to invite Madison or Brooklyn over while I’m at work?”

Charlie was already shaking her head. “I missed you, mum. I want to spend more time with you before I go back to school. Besides, I’m almost 12. I’m not going to want to hang out with you forever.”

“Oof, right for the guilt trip,” Buttercup grinned as she washed her hands. “Alright, lady, if you’re sure, you’d better go get dressed for a day out on the town.”

Charlie grinned and hopped up from her seat. “Give me ten minutes!”

Grabbing her phone, she raced up the stairs and started pulling on the outfit she had chosen for the day, checking her hair, and brushing her teeth. Satisfied with her appearance, she pulled her phone out and checked her messages from Abby.

A: Thanks for the reminder

A: Are you sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend?

A: He wants to talk to me about something

A: What if it’s her?

A: Charlie?

Charlie sighed, feeling only slightly guilty about leaving her sister in the lurch. But whatever issues Abby was facing, whatever conversation Jake wanted to have with her, Charlie was an ocean away and couldn’t really do anything to help. Besides, it couldn’t be a girlfriend. Dad wouldn’t have hidden something like that from her.

C: Sorry, gotta go! Mom’s taking me to one of her book signings, and then we’re going to dinner and a show! Good luck!

Before Abby could start to type back, Charlie shut off her phone and threw it into the purse she had chosen to take with her. Whatever was going on in Texas, Charlie was confident that her sister could handle it.

“…and that’s why I believe that, no matter how dark your content is, your story should always end with a glimmer of hope,” Buttercup smiled from her comfortable seat on the slightly raised stage at the back of the bookstore, and Charlie clapped along with the audience. It looked like hundreds of people had turned out for the event celebrating her mother’s works, each of them clamoring for a look at the notoriously private author who didn’t even have her picture in the backs of her books.

“Alright, it looks like we’ve got time for one more question,” the moderator said, peering out over the audience. “You, in the pink paisley shirt. What is your question?”

The young woman down the row from Charlie stood up and accepted the microphone. “Hi, my name’s Lisa. I was just wondering about the timeline of your books. You say that you’ve been writing since you were a kid, but your first book wasn’t published until 7 years ago. What was it that finally prompted you to publish your book?”

Charlie watched her mother stiffen slightly before turning an almost plastic smile to the audience. “That’s a great question, Lisa, thank you. Unfortunately, that’s just the way this industry goes sometimes. An author can spend years, decades even, revising and editing their work before a publisher will even agree to take a look at it. Besides that, I also had a lot going on in my life that…prevented me from writing as much as I wanted to. But just over a decade ago, I was faced with personal difficulties that forced me to sit and pour my thoughts out onto the page. It took some time after that to organize my thoughts into a comprehensible narrative, but that’s what ended up becoming my first book, The Things We Hold Onto.”

Lisa raised the microphone, probably to try to engage with Buttercup further, but the moderator quickly stepped in. “Thank you so much for your questions. We’ll be taking a five-minute break before the book signing begins. If you’d all like to queue up at the table, that would be wonderful. Thank you.”

The crowd quickly dispersed, and Charlie fought her way through them to stand at the bottom of the stage as her mom stepped down.

“Thanks, Diane,” she shook the moderator’s hand.

“Don’t mention it,” she replied with a wink. “I’m just doing my job. Now, I’m going to go set up the table for the signing, and I’ll see you in five minutes.”

She walked off and Buttercup turned to her with a sigh, hugging her close. “You sure you made the right call, coming to work with me? I’m bored and it’s my writing I’m talking about.”

Charlie giggled. “I’m sure.”

“You’re one weird kid,” Buttercup commented, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s hair. “But I’m so glad you’re mine. I love you.”

Charlie felt her heart beam in her chest. “I love you too.” Charlie watched as her mom guzzled a water bottle, chewing on her bottom lip as she considered her next words. “Mum…what was it that kept you from writing?” Water sputtered from Buttercup’s mouth as she coughed. “Was…was it me?”

Buttercup wiped her mouth, cleared her throat, and tugged her close again. “God, no, babe. Not you. Never you.”

“Then…was it dad?” Charle bit her lip so hard she could almost taste blood. She couldn’t imagine a world where Jake Seresin was anything but supportive of those around him, but she also couldn’t imagine a world where her father had lied to her for her entire life, so, clearly, she didn’t know everything.

Buttercup sighed heavily. “I promised you I would tell you about your dad, and I haven’t forgotten. At dinner, okay? I’ll answer all your questions at dinner.”

Charlie nodded slowly, not meeting her gaze. “Okay.”

“I’ve got to get over there,” Buttercup nodded to the queue. “Dinner. I promise.”

“Okay, mum.”

Buttercup took a few steps and turned back to her. “It wasn’t your father either, babe. Okay?”

Charlie felt the knot in her chest slacken slightly and she brightened. “Okay, mum. Go kill it!”

Buttercup winked and strode off, her head held high.

A few hours later, the queue had been cleared and Buttercup and Charlie sat in a comfortable booth at Café Murano in Covent Gardens. Their glasses of water had barely been placed on the table before Charlie leaned forward.

“Mum?”

Buttercup sighed and placed the menu to the side. “Alright, babe. I’ve made you wait long enough. What do you want to know?”

“If dad didn’t stop you from writing, what did?”

Buttercup traced a finger around the lip of her water glass. “A bunch of things, I suppose. My life with your father was…fast paced. We met, fell in love, and got pregnant with you in the span of what? Three months, give or take? I had been living in New York, getting my Masters in creative writing one minute, and the next I was moving into your dad’s apartment in San Diego. I got so swept up in the whirlwind that my writing kind of fell by the wayside. It’s okay. It happens.”

“So…what made you start writing again?”

Buttercup shrugged. “I moved here with you, and I had no other creative outlet. Bob and Nat were still in the Navy, so I didn’t have them to lean on. I had no friends here; I didn’t know any of my coworkers. It was just me and you, so I would write when you were napping. I just poured everything I was feeling into a word document and, eventually, a narrative started to take shape. It took a while, but I was eventually able to take it to the publishing company I worked for, and they agreed to publish it.”

“Why did you move here? I though you and Uncle Bob grew up in Minnesota?”

“We did,” Buttercup took a swig of water. “I got a job offer here not long after you were born, so I took it when your father and I split up.” Buttercup flagged down a passing waiter. “Could I get a glass of rosé, please? Thank you.”

“Did you split up because of the job offer?” Charlie felt her heart racing in her chest. Every question she’d ever asked (or wanted to ask) her father was battling in her mind, all of them racing to be the first to come out.

Buttercup smiled wryly. “Not exactly. Well…maybe. Kind of. I don’t know, babe. It’s complicated adult stuff.”

“But I’m almost an adult,” Charlie commented, leaning closer. “I turn 12 in a few months.”

Buttercup tilted her head. “You do indeed.” The waiter placed the tall glass of pink wine on the table and Buttercup took a long sip. “Abby, honey…I know why you feel curious about your father. It’s natural to wonder about a man you’ve never met. But…” Another sip disappeared down her throat. “There are just some things that are too complicated to explain. There was a lot going on at the time, and we had gotten together so quickly, and we were juggling parenthood with our jobs, and…” Charlie felt her face flush as her mother’s breathing stuttered, tears welling in her eyes. “Some things…just don’t work out. There are some things in life that you just can’t hold onto, no matter how badly you might want to. It made more sense for us to split up and for you to come with me than for us to keep fighting the way we were.”

Charlie sagged against her side of the booth. So much information, and nothing to do with it. Her mom was clearly just as messed up from the divorce as her dad was, but neither of them were willing to talk it out with their children or with each other. She felt a flash of disappointment in her gut, but she smothered it. She loved her mom and her dad, and she yearned for them to be able to fix things between them, but it was okay that they weren’t willing to do the leg work on their own. That’s what her and Abby were there for. Even if their plan didn’t end with their parents back together, at least they wouldn’t be able to hide their children from each other anymore. That would have to be the main goal.

“Abby?”

Charlie looked up into her mother’s wide eyes. “Yeah mum?”

“I said I’m sorry,” Buttercup bit her lip. “I’ll try to figure out a way to explain it all to you one day, I promise.”

“It’s okay, mum,” Charlie smiled lightly. “I know I sprung it on you. We can talk more when you’re ready.”

Buttercup sighed and squeezed her hand. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Abigail Juliet Floyd, but I’m so glad you’re my girl.”

“And I’m glad you’re my mum.”

Buttercup smiled tearily before picking up her menu. “You know what, babe? What do you say we break the rules and have dessert first?”

“I’d say that sounds awesome.”

Charlie yawned as she crawled into bed that night, ABBA songs still ringing in her ears. Dessert, dinner, and their performance of Mamma Mia had been an awesome time, but it was so late that she wished she could just fall asleep the second her head hit the pillow. But, in an effort to be a responsible sister, she dug her phone out of her purse and turned it on instead, searching for any new messages from her sister across the ocean.

When her search turned up empty, she opened Instagram and found her father’s profile, scanning through the photos of Abby, Jake, Javy and Rooster. She felt a pang of longing to be back in her familiar surroundings with the people she loved most, but the anger and hurt she still felt over her father’s betrayal pushed that pang back.

Still, she studied the most recent photo, a selfie of Abby, Jake and Javy at the high school football field, posted only the previous day. They all looked so happy together, her dad’s arm wrapped around Abby’s shoulders as Javy struck a ridiculous pose in the background. No matter what the outcome of their switch was, it was worth it. Abby was clearly enjoying getting to know their father, and Charlie loved her mother more now than she ever had before. Sure, they might get punished once they were found out, but getting to know their parents was completely worth the potential trouble they were in.

The staccato vibration of her phone pulled her from her musing, Abby’s face lighting up the screen. She mashed the green button with her thumb, holding the phone up to her ear. “Hello?”

“Dad’s getting married!” She pulled the phone away from her ear quickly as Abby shouted down the receiver. “He got engaged to some blond woman who looks like she’s half his age!”

“Abby?” she couldn’t help the yawn that escaped her. “What are you talking about?” Dad? Engaged? Without introducing her (or Abby, in this case) to the woman? Impossible.

“I told you! The blond woman from this morning is wearing a rock the size of my head and hanging off of dad! She said that they’re getting married, and he confirmed it!”

Charlie’s stomach dropped and the cannoli and pizza she’d consumed earlier rose in her throat. “Wh…what? No! It…it’s not possible!”

“Except that it is! He told me it was happening whether I liked it or not!” Charlie’s throat worked to dislodge the tears that were silencing her, but, even if they went away, her mind could think of no words to make the situation better. “Would you say something, please?”

Say what, exactly? Her dad hadn’t been on a date in 12 years, always claiming to be too busy. Between the ranch and parenting his daughter, there weren’t enough hours in the day. Charlie had heard him explain that to Rooster and Javy more times than she could count, so what was this, exactly? He got engaged to someone and never thought that his daughter should be able to meet the woman who would be moving into their home?

Tear after tear traced delicate lines down her face, and she worked to keep her sobs silent, mindful of her aunt, uncle, and mother sleeping in the surrounding rooms.

“What do you want me to say, Abby?” she whispered. “Dad’s getting married, and he didn’t bother to even introduce her to me.”

Abby’s tinny sigh echoed through the receiver. “I know…”

Clutching Abby’s pink bunny close, she trembled as she groaned, “But he loves mom! I know he does! You don’t shut down that often about a person if you don’t care about them!”

“He shut down on me today too,” Abby agreed. “But it’s not like I can just tell him that he loves her. He would never go for that.”

“Can you find something to prove it?” For once, Charlie didn’t care that she sounded desperate. One of the best days of her life was somehow turning into a nightmare, and she needed it to stop. “Something to remind him?”

“Like what?”

“I dunno…a photo? Their marriage license? Anything that might remind him of her?”

“Where would I even find something like that?”

“In the office in the stable.”

Charlie heard Abby rustling around. “I’m there right now, I don’t see anything.”

“In the safe under his desk. Or in the filing cabinet. I don’t know the code to the safe or where he keeps the key to the cabinet though.”

Abby sighed again. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Thanks…” Charlie sighed, wiping her eyes on the pink bunny’s fur. Come to think of it, she had an identical bunny at home, just in purple. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that while I’m having fun with mum.”

“It’s okay. Do…do you think mum still loves dad?”

Charlie rolled her eyes through her tears. “Abby, all her adult books are about a military guy falling in love with the woman of his dreams and the obstacles that keep them apart. She either loves him or she doesn’t know what else to write about.”

That much she knew was true. The whole reason her mother’s latest book hadn’t been turned in for publishing yet was because her mom had no clue how to reunite the two main characters, who were separated by duty to family and country.

“What if you’re wrong?” Abby whispered to her.

“I…” Charlie swallowed hard. “I don’t want to think about that. Find proof. I’ll find proof too. Then we’ll tell them about the switch.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Good luck.”

“You too.”

Charlie hit the red button and let her phone slip out of her trembling hand. Her dad was getting married. To a woman she had never met before. Did he not care about how she would feel? Did he not think of her at all when he made the decision to get down on one knee? Did he think of Abby? Or their mother? What if he never thought about them? What if this whole idea was just one terrible bomb waiting to go off in their faces? What if, every time he shut down her questions about her mother, he was actually angry? What if she had misread the situation so terribly that it would have untold consequences when he found out about the switch?

Charlie felt herself begin to tremble more and struggled to take a deep breath.

Water. She needed water. That’s what her dad brought her every time her emotions took over like this. He would bring her a cool glass of water and hold her tight until the panic subsided. She may not be able to have her dad’s strong arms around her, but water she could do.

Stumbling out of bed, she quietly made her way downstairs, willing her legs to stop shaking long enough for her to get that glass of water.

She made it as far as the kitchen island before her legs gave out and she sunk to the floor in the dim light, her tears now flooding her face, her throat unable to even sob against the pressure building up inside her.

“Shhh, Charlie…it’s okay, sweetheart,” a pair of strong arms scooped her up and cradled her against a firm chest. She nuzzled into that chest, allowing her tears to soak into the white cotton t-shirt. A large hand smoothed over her hair and she felt her rescuer sit down on the couch, rocking her slightly. “It’s okay, honey. Let it all out. You’re okay, Charlie. You’re safe.”

Minutes, or perhaps hours later, she hiccupped and wiped her eyes, cradled like an infant in those arms that…were not her father’s, as her destressed mind had thought. She froze, and her rescuer sighed, lifting her slightly to lean her against the back of the couch.

Uncle Bob’s hand never left her back as she settled into a less cramped position, his hair ruffled and his glasses slightly askew. “It’s okay, Charlie,” he whispered. “Whatever’s going on in your brain can’t hurt you. We’ll find a way to fix it and, if we can’t, we’ll find a way to help you cope with it.”

Charlie blinked. He…he was calling her Charlie. He was calling her by her actual name. But…how did he…

“H-how long have you known?” she whispered, her heart settling back into a normal rhythm despite her sudden terror that her uncle would out her and ruin this before they were able to come up with a solid plan.

Bob shrugged in response. “Since the airport.”

“Buffalo or Heathrow?”

He grinned slightly, shrugging again. “Buffalo.”

Charlie groaned. “Tell me we had at least gotten on the plane first?”

“If I did that, I’d be lying.”

Charlie blinked up at him as she shifted to face him, curling her legs beneath her. “B-but…but you haven’t told anyone.”

Bob adjusted his glasses. “No, I haven’t.”

“But…why?”

Bob stared at her, his green eyes gleaming. “Because I trusted you and Abby have a good reason for this. And because your mother deserves to hear it from you, not from me. She’s missed you every day for 12 years. Far be it for me to steal that reunion from her.”

“I’m going to tell her. I swear. I just…Dad’s getting married,” she sniffled. “I don’t know if I can go home and face that right now.”

Bob reached out and gently tilted her head back so he could meet her eyes. “What did I just say? Whatever is happening, we’ll fix it together. And, if we can’t, we’ll find a way to cope with it together. Okay? That’s how this family works.”

Charlie nodded, eyes welling up again. “Thanks, Uncle Bob.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Bob opened his arms and she leaned into the hug, feeling safe and warm for the first time since she’d gotten back from the theatre. “You have to tell her though, Charlie. Tomorrow.”

She found herself nodding. “Tomorrow.”

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#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #as you wish fic #parent trap au #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #glen powell #tgm #hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you

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brayneworms · 7 months

Text

gouge away (if you want to) | johnny joestar

kinktober day ten: kissing

word count. 2.4k

content. disabled johnny, but like his prostate works, anal fingering, prostate orgasm, kissing, johnny cries after sex it's canon, gender-neutral reader, fluff, mentions of ableism, established relationship, this is sappy

♪ gouge away - pixies

kinktober mlist | regular mlist

For a while—a long while—after his accident, Johnny thought he'd never be with someone again.

A part of it was the paralysis. Okay, a big part of it was. He learns after using the chair for a bit that he sorta stops becoming a real person to most people, that their eyes just sorta slide past him. Oh no, how sad, that guy in the chair must have it so bad. Don't be rude and stare, now. Sometimes he wishes they would stare at him, like he knows they wanna. He almost finds their determination to ignore him totally more jarring.

And that's only half the problem. The other part is that even if he could find someone, his goddamn dick doesn't work anymore. Which would for sure pose a problem. So Johnny resigns himself miserably to a sexless and potentially loveless life, and pretends it doesn't make him want to die.

Still. Anyways. It all seems kinda redundant now, 'cause he's lying under the sky in the dirt with his pants halfway off, and you're—you're doing something, or you're tryin' something that Johnny is extremely skeptical about. A bit of time travelling with Gyro had taught him many times that there was a lot of things about the human body he was ignorant of, but he still can't help but be dubious of the claim you made to him a few minutes ago.

I'm gonna make you cum.

At once, a protest had risen to his lips. You can't. Almost a reflex. You'd cocked your head in inquiry, and Johnny had gone redder, down to the tips of his ears hidden by his hat. It's my—it doesn't work. Down there doesn't...

You seem to consider this for a few moments. Then you say, there's something else we can try.

You disappear inside the tent and come out with the bottle of aloe vera they'd been using to treat the burns that had blistered as a result of the unforgiving desert sun. He had red peeling skin all up his shoulders and the bridge of his nose.

He watches dubiously as you squeeze a clear, cold glob onto your fingers. "Wh—where are those goin'?"

He's pretty sure he has an idea.

"You know what a prostate is, Johnny dear?" You always call him that. Johnny dear, like it's all one word. Johnnydear. He always gripes and groans about it and then has to turn away extremely quickly to hide his flush. He's going to examine the reaction he gets when you baby him sometime, he promises himself, just not right now. He's got a lotta shit on his plate, okay? Corpses to find and such.

"N-no," he answers, stammering when you kneel between his legs and spread his thighs gently apart. He sucks in a breath; one of your fingers leaves a cool trail of aloe along the skin there.

"A prostate," you tell him patiently, like you're not situated between his naked thighs, "is a gland that people with your particular reproductory set are born with."

"You sound like Gyro," he mutters. "Kinda killing the mood a little."

"I just want to make sure you're fully informed." You roll your eyes. "It's just that you're leaking precum, see?" To his mortification, you swipe your fingers over the tip of the dick he can't feel and hold them up; under the starlight, they gleam, and he burns with embarrassment. "Means you might be able to feel it. Means I might be able to make you cum."

Johnny swallows hard. He wants—it sounds good. Sounds great. But with the hope comes that fear, an ever-present shadow. What if it doesn't work?

"Hey." You lean over him, and before Johnny can protest you've captured his lips, a slow, deliberate cling. Johnny loves kissing you. He thinks it might be his favourite thing to do, other than jockeying and he can't do that anymore, so this takes an automatic first place. He sighs and melts against you like softened butter, his hands winding themselves over your shoulder and jaw. He loves everything about it. The closeness, the slow gentle intimacy, the way you smell. That last part is probably weird, 'cause you mostly smell like sweat and leather, but Johnny likes it all the same.

You kiss for a while; one of your hand strokes soothing shapes into his ribcage. When you pull back, the panic that had been rearing up inside him has faded to a dull murmur.

"Don't get in your head about it," you whisper. "If you can't feel it, then that's that. You know I won't think less of you."

A lump rises in Johnny's throat, and he shields his eyes from the burning sun of you seein' right through him. "I know," he says, almost petulantly.

"So? Wanna give it a try?"

A part of him doesn't. A part of him is so, so scared. But a bigger part of him, the one that likes kissing you and likes the way you smell and the way you touch him and look at him and everything, really, is nodding before that first part can protest. You kiss him again with a smile, a little faster, a little dirtier this time. This is another thing Johnny likes about kissing—it can take so many different forms. Even if he did find the corpse pieces and get the use of his legs back, Johnny reckons he'd still like kissing more than real sex.

Your mouth starts moving down, sweeping the sensitive skin of his neck and collarbones, the valleys of his pectorals, a nipple. The last one makes Johnny gasp and you giggle, and he splays a palm over his face in embarrassment. You coax such stupid noises outta him. But you seem to enjoy it, so whatever.

Down, down, down. Somewhere between his navel and his pubic bone he stops feeling it. But it still somehow feels sorta nice, which doesn't make a whole lotta sense but it does to him, so. He watches you between his fingers as you reach between his legs, he thinks prodding.

You look up at him. "I'm going to put a finger in, okay?"

Johnny nods eagerly. "Don't gotta tell me. I won't feel it."

You roll your eyes. "I'm still gonna tell you. We can stop whenever, okay?"

"Okay," Johnny says impatiently, and wiggles his hips. You smack his hipbone playfully, which does nothing to temper his brattiness on account of him not feelin' a fuckin' thing. Then you get a quiet, serious, concentrated look on your face that Johnny usually only sees when you're fighting. Or when he's making you cum. That expression, more than any of your words or hesitation, it what makes him quiet down and take it serious.

There's a silence that stretches on. Johnny supposes you must be doin' something, considering the slight furrow he can see between your brows and the achingly careful, gradual movement of your wrist. Finally, after about a minute, you look up at him.

"My finger's in," you tell him, and Johnny bites his lip.

"Can't feel it," he says. He's starting to think this was a really bad idea.

"Just lemme—hold on," you say, and your wrist moves a little, and then—

Johnny keens. He feels, he fuckin' feels so much that it lights him up from the inside and sets his nerves alight, some part deep inside him that he didn't even know existed 'till five minutes ago and it's so good it immediately brings tears to his eyes.

"Oh," he says like he's surprised, and he is, apparently so much so that it's all he can say. "O-oh, oh, oh—"

Your finger retracts back into nothingness, and Johnny bites back a sob. "Johnny?" you ask worriedly. "Did you—is it too much?"

"No, no," he babbles, feeling incoherent already. You brush his hair back from his face with your free hand, the one that ain't inside him, your thumb stroking over his cheek. "It was—fuck, felt so weird. But good. Really, really good. Can you—are you gonna do it again?"

"Will if you want me to," you answer lovingly, and Johnny is biting back another sob for a whole different reason. "Might be a bit intense, Johnny dear. You sure you wanna?"

"Yes, yeah." He stares up at you beseechingly, feeling a bit pathetic but also too far gone to give a shit. "Please, I wanna—I wanna feel it again."

You nod, leaning over to kiss him again. Johnny relaxes into the embrace, losing himself in the familiar touch of your lips, the smell of you, taking the bite out of his surge of panic—and then with no warning you're brushing against that spot inside him again and he's moaning into your mouth, loud and unrestrained. It's pitchy and startled, and your free hand cups the back of his head as he pulls away in shock.

"Fuck, Jesus Christ," he swears, slamming his head back against the dirt. "O-oh, oh god, ohgodohgod—"

"Still good?" you ask, and your fingers made a weird sort of curling motion and it occurs to Johnny that you're movin' them in and out, sort of like you would if you were actually fucking him, and the thought makes him flush so hard he feels feverish. You're fucking him. You're fucking him.

He nods deliriously. "Mhm, yeah," he gasps out, feeling breathless, feeling giddy. "Don't stop, feels so fuckin' good, oh my god."

Your fingers press into him over and over like you're ringin' a bell, and all the while you kiss him and for the first time in ages Johnny feels that both parts of his body are equal. The bottom half has come alive under your jackhammering fingers, the top half consumed by you and your kiss. The kissing makes it so much better, 'cause Johnny reckons if anyone else had their fingers in his ass he'd probably hate it even if they were touching his whatdidyoucallit like that and making him feel amazing. He'd hate it 'cause they wouldn't be you.

The kissing reminds him it's you. The chaps on your lips, the smell of you, the feel of your face and skin, your body pressing into his. It's so all consuming it makes him wanna cry, in a good way, in a weird way. Your fingers move faster and weirder, and Johnny starts making those stupid oh! oh! noises again, stifling them against your mouth, and your tongue presses in and you swallow them whole.

All too soon, Johnny feels a weird tightening, one he hasn't felt since before the incident. He feels a constriction of panic, his fingers clutching at your clothing. "I—hah!—I f-feel weird."

"Bad weird?" Your fingers slow down, nearly stop, and Johnny whines.

"No, no, good weird, good," he pants. "Move again, fuck."

You pick up the pace; Johnny shudders, tensing in your hold all over again. He feels like he's burning, like he's sweating out everything bad he's ever felt.

"Do you mean you're gonna cum?" you ask, your voice lower this time, so close to Johnny's ear it makes him shiver. The harsh brush of your chapped lips against the soft skin there makes his body feel electric.

"I think," he whispers, eyes screwing shut. "Sorry—oh—I think, yeah."

"Don't feel sorry," you tell him almost sternly. "I want to see you cum, Johnny. Wanna see you cum so hard your pretty little head goes blank. You deserve it, yeah?"

"Yeah," he gasps out. "I deserve it."

What you do next with your fingers is almost brutal in the wracks of shivering pleasure it sends simmering through Johnny's body; every curl of them has him writhing and gasping and moaning, he must sound so stupid but you seem to be liking it and fuck, he's liking it, he likes feeling a little stupid and helpless while you take care of him and he's definitely gonna have to unpack that, but later, 'cause—

"I'm gonna cum," he gasps, hands flying out to curl in your clothing. "Baby, baby, I'm gonna cum, I—kiss me? Kiss me, okay, I wanna, oh, oh oh oh—"

You crash your lips together, and your fingers curl up one last lingering time and Johnny shatters. White stars explode over his vision, shatter inside his head, and for a split second it feels like every cell in his body freezes up and screams and dies. He's vaguely aware of some long, drawn-out, breathless noise he's making and the way you swallow it with your mouth.

It takes several seconds for him to come back down to earth. When he does it's to the sensation of you running your fingers through his hair and pressing soft, feathery kisses to his cheeks.

He pants like a dog. When you see his blue eyes on you, you sit up, seem to retract your fingers from between his legs. Your image starts to blur, and Johnny sees your expression crease in concern. He realises he's crying. Not like, actually, not like he's got something to be upset about. He's just... tearing up. Like someone's turned a faucet on behind his eyes and just left it there. He pushes the heels of his hands into the sockets and presses down, willing it to stop, willing the overwhelming feeling blooming in his chest to deflate.

"Hey, hey." Your voice, low and soothing, pressed into his hair, your arms holding him tightly. "You okay?"

"Yes," he says almost angrily. "I'm fine. Dunno why I'm—fuck. Sorry. I'm good, I promise I'm good. That was... so, so good."

Your expression of concern gives way slightly. "You sure?"

"Yeah." Johnny sucks in a shaky, wet breath. "Thanks. Thank you. I didn't even... I didn't even know I could feel like that anymore. Not just 'cause of—you know." He gestures vaguely to the lower half of his body. "All of it. Like, I didn't think anyone would wanna—while I'm still like this. And I—I figured I didn't deserve it, or something. But... it was really good."

Your smile is a little sad. "I'm glad, Johnny dear. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Now that we know it works, we can do it again. And again, and again." He flushes, and you laugh sweetly, and Johnny could just die to the sound of it. "Still, we should get some rest for tonight. Gyro will skin us alive if we oversleep again."

You're right, of course. Johnny lets you maneuvre him onto his sleeping skin, and you unroll yours right next to him. When you do, Johnny reaches for you, clinging like a damn insect. But you don't seem to mind, 'cause you wrap your arms around his waist and bring him in even closer. He tucks his head into your shoulder.

He thinks that he'll get to kiss you tomorrow, too.

His sleep is dreamless and deep.

#🫀.scribes #jjba smut #jjba x reader #johnny joestar x reader #johnny joestar smut #jojo x reader #jojo smut #jjba x dom!reader #dom!reader #dom reader #jjba x dom reader #jjba x gn reader #jjba x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #braynes kinktober 23

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heich0e · 2 years

Text

four drink rule - suna rintarou/f!reader (1.6k) sfwish, a bit silly, alcohol mention, enemies to something, samu dying a hero's death

atsumu slumps down into the banquette seating lining the wall of the club, exhausted.

there's a mysterious stain on the upholstery next to his thigh; the music is so loud it's rattling his teeth; and it's so hot in the crowded, rowdy space that the thin material of his dress shirt is sticking to him, even with the three top buttons undone.

this was supposed to be a night out with old friends.

this was supposed to be fun.

but now he just wants to go home.

"how many's she on?" his twin appears before atsumu, a drink in each hand. osamu mercifully hands the full one over to him.

atsumu accepts the drink gratefully, not a damn clue what it is, and takes a healthy swig. it burns a little on the way down, and does little to parch his actual thirst, but it's better than nothing. he swallows, panting lightly as he drags the back of his hand over his slick mouth.

"three—"

osamu nods, turning his head to scan the crowd of bodies.

"—what about suna?"

osamu takes a sip of his own drink, a less gluttonous one than his brother had. he turns back to his brother and gives him a pointed look as his adam's apple bobs.

he sighs, and the sound seems to come from deep within him. "three."

"who's watchin' him now?" atsumu asks.

"aran-kun."

atsumu's brow arches at his brother's response. "aran's supposed to be watchin' her."

they share a look. the beat in the song playing over the sound system drops. they're moving towards the thick of the crowd before they know it.

they find aran relatively quickly, near the bar where osamu had left him with suna, but he is horrifyingly alone.

"where is he?"

"where is she?”

the twins speak at the same time, tones equally accusatorial.

aran rolls his eyes lightly, shaking his head. "relax, they got into one of their spats and she stormed off a while ago, and he said he was gonna go see if he could steal a cig off someone outside while i got another drink."

both of the twins nod, slightly relieved.

osamu’s eyes sweep the surrounding area for a moment.

"aran-kun... where's your drink?"

aran looks over at the bar where he must have left his glass, but finds nothing there but a ring of condensation where his drink once sat.

he looks back to the twins to meet two identically wide pairs of eyes.

"god damn it.”

atsumu runs his hands through his peroxide blonde hair, gripping the strands roughly in frustration. “aran! the Four Drink Rule is in place fer a reason! it’s sacred!”

"yeah, yeah I know," aran sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezes his eyes closed.

atsumu stomps his foot—actually stomps it, like an overgrown child—and laments ”this never woulda happened if kita-san were here!"

“kita-san’d never be caught dead in a club, but at least they behave themselves when he’s around," his twin reminds him, more composed than his genetic counterpart. the more level-headed of the two evaluates his options momentarily. “tsumu, you go check outside and see if you can find that dickhead. i’ll look for her. aran why dontcha take a lap and see if you can find ‘em in any… dark corners.”

aran’s nose crinkles in disgust.

“why do i get the worst job?” he gripes.

“yer the one that lost track of ‘em,” osamu says sternly, and aran can’t refute his logic even if he hates it.

they part ways, and osamu approaches the bar—waiting for the bartender to turn her attention towards him as his fingertips tap the sticky surface of the bartop impatiently.

finally the woman approaches.

“sorry to ask ya this,” osamu sighs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “did a girl come through here recently? real feisty, probably ordered a lemon sour with no ice, about—“

he intimates your approximate height to the bartender.

“—yea high?”

the bartender actually laughs a little bit at how defeated osamu seems, nodding her head.

"yeah, I served her a lemon sour with no ice a couple minutes ago. maybe 10? only remember her because she told me i wasn't allowed to tell some big guy with bleached hair. she made me pinky promise and everything.”

osamu knocks his fist between his eyes. yeah, that was definitely you.

“everything okay?” the bartender asks warily, watching osamu cycle through all five stages of grief in the expressions on his face.

“oh yeah, we’re fine. thanks fer yer help though, miss, and ‘m sorry about the trouble.”

atsumu, aran, and osamu all meet up again where they’d left each other—a few minutes older and substantially more grim.

“couldn’t find ‘em.”

“he wasn’t outside.”

“she got a fourth drink.”

they all relay their findings one after the other, the bad news compounding.

osamu looks at atsumu. atsumu looks at aran. aran looks at osamu. then the order repeats itself in reverse.

“i’m not doin’ it,” atsumu is the first to speak up, staunch and adamant. “i’m tired of baby sittin’ those two brats every time we go out. if they wanna down four drinks and end up suckin' each other’s faces off and bumpin' uglies in a nasty ol’ bathroom that’s their problem!”

“but we’re the ones that have to deal with the fallout, ‘tsumu!” his brother argues. “suna’s gonna complain about her not replying to the stupid memes he sends like a lovesick idiot for the next two weeks, minimum. and she’s gonna blame us for not stopping her!”

“i agree with atsumu, we’ve been doing this for years. if they can’t admit they like each other that’s between them and god.” aran shrugs, equally exasperated with the foolishness. he’s been dealing with this for too damn long.

osamu tilts his head back and looks up at the ceiling, watching the way the club lights flicker across the black tiles overhead.

“if you guys help me figure out where they are, i’ll be the one to break ‘em apart.”

“deal.”

“fine.”

it doesn’t take them long really, once ginjima informs the three of them that he spotted you and suna slipping into an out of order washroom near coat check not fifteen minutes prior. suna’s hand had been, according to akagi’s chipper contribution, so far up your shirt it looked like ‘that scene in alien when the alien pops clear outta their chests!’

osamu stares at the out of order sign on the bathroom door for longer than he cares to admit; mustering his resolve, saying a prayer, lamenting the day of his own birth, etc.

he casts a look down to the other end of the dimly lit hall (predominantly used by staff) to where atsumu, aran, and a few other of their friends are watching him like spectators standing on the dock to send ill fated soldiers off to war. atsumu waves him on encouragingly.

osamu sighs.

he pushes the door open.

“haa, please, rintar-MMPH!”

osamu fights back a gag as the door swings closed and the bathroom falls deathly silent.

he hears the drip of water from a leaking tap, the distant thrum of bass from the music outside.

“you two are gross, y’know that?”

osamu can see suna’s shoes under the door of the bathroom stall nearest to him. your shoes slowly appear on the ground just in front of suna’s, dropping down into view from above.

“i’m not leavin’ without the two of ya, so put yer junk away and get the hell out here,” osamu demands, crossing his arms over his chest.

“my junk’s not even out yet,” suna mutters sullenly from behind the door, and he hears a smack a moment later.

there’s a bit of shuffling that osamu doesn’t want to picture and the stall lock clicks open.

well, at least you two had the decency to lock one door.

the stall door opens a crack, only to slam closed again a moment later.

“hey!” osamu hears you complain.

“you know we don’t actually have to go out there, right? he’s not our boss.”

“get your grubby hands off of me,” you hiss, and there’s another audible scuffle. finally the door to the stall is wrenched open, and you step out.

your hair is a mess. your skirt is creased. your makeup is running. osamu doesn’t dwell too long on the way you’re walking like you’re weak-kneed in the interest of preserving his own sanity.

“god i can’t stand you,” you hiss over your shoulder towards the stall where suna is also emerging, looking equally dishevelled—though notably more smug than you do.

“i’ve got a seat i can offer if you’re looking for one,” suna says, a smirk tugging the corner of his swollen, rosy lips up. there's lipstick streaking across his mouth, jaw, and neck.

“i’m never doing this again,” you say adamantly, grabbing your purse off of the bathroom counter beside osamu, where you’d evidently hastily cast it aside, avoiding his judgemental gaze as you do so.

osamu wants to echo your statement.

you tug the strap of your bag up over your arm and stomp towards the door of the bathroom with your lipstick still smeared down your chin. osamu turns to look at his friend, his expression flat and unimpressed, but suna’s preoccupied watching you go, eyes glued to the doorway until the door swings shut behind you—the ignored OUT OF ORDER sign fluttering sadly.

it’s quiet again once you’re gone, and suna turns to look at osamu with a dopey, self-satisfied smile. he sighs happily.

“she says that every time.”

#suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintarou x you #suna rintarou #suna #hq drabble #hq writing #writing

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catherinekal · 16 days

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I'm done! With the first chapter of a new story that I hope I actually can finish. It's fantasy and a practice in writing for me. Ideally I'd have a new chapter every week or two, but who really knows. This is my first real piece of writing I've posted so I hope people like it!

I don't fully know where it's going. This is practice and experimenting. I want to find my writing style and actually make a thing instead of imagining making a thing. I'll be uploading chapter by chapter. It's an original work about a school for learning magic...for now. Please be nice and read it and reblog it and leave feedback :3 Also shouts out to @fayeastria for editing it.

Chapter 1: Silber

Shayla lurched forward, hand over her mouth, boots hitting the shifting wood floor. Her stomach tossed and turned, gurgling, surging upward. Her head felt even worse as the blues of the ocean and sky blurred together in a dizzying haze. Chunks of meat and bread shot out of her mouth and fell into the sea below. She heaved hard over the ship’s edge and felt the sick aftertaste on her breath at every cough. As the contents of her lunch sank below she turned around and slid down the railing, back firmly pressed against the wood, orange hair loosely draped over her freckled face.

Her excitement had slowly diminished during this trip. It started wonderfully when Pa told her how her eyes had turned gray. She was capable of using magic! It was sheer bliss to actually be given the opportunity to learn magic at a proper institute in the center of the world, a fantasy come true. Two weeks later and all that had vanished, squashed like a roach. The carriage ride had been pleasant at first, but the Arcanist who was escorting her was anything but. Dwai was his name and he shattered the magical view she had had of them. He may have the cyan eyes of a proper Arcanist, but they were wasted on this dull mess of a man. Arcanists were supposed to be wonders, green cloaked traveling bundles of magic and passion! All he did was tell them to keep up and gripe about how the Order had made him leave his wife for a whole month doing “this shit”. She had so many question, so many little curiosities. When she had mentioned the silver eyed Arcanist she had met as a child, he had just scoffed at the idea and given no answer! He hadn’t even used magic the whole trip, the lout. She vowed to never be as dull, boring, and rude as him when she got her own cloak. Getting on the ship she was on now had been simple enough, even for her. She’d never been on a proper ship before and the journey had made her question if any of this was worth it. The boat had been nothing but a nightmare. A cruel joke at her expense, the tossing and turning waves were evil. Solid ground! She needed solid ground! Before she could pout more, something reflected the harsh sunlight off in the distance and she squinted away. It soon passed and the biggest smile she had had in a long time was plastered across her face.

Before her in the distance was a mass of buildings, spires, and walls. The great city of Silber. She stood up, filled with newfound vigor, and rushed to the bow. Others had joined her to see the wonder of the city. The port was massive, ships of all shapes and sizes were moving to and from the docks. It was split down the middle by a large river that split into two smaller ones deeper into the city, as Shayla had told by a sailor earlier. She watched them approach it and was taken aback by just how large the river was. Nothing back home was on this scale!

Many buildings dotted the hill behind the port on either side of the river. Rising proudly towards the sky right in the middle was a giant, pure white bridge elevated above the wide river. White, smooth columns sunk into the water below and on each end were massive towers. Shayla didn’t even know what to think, nothing had prepared her for such a sight. A moment later her vision got clouded as a streak of light reflected into her eyes again. Once it stopped she saw the top of a silver tower far off in the distance. It was like a mirror reflecting the sky and stood above everything else. In front of it was a layer of tall white stone walls, a fortress at the heart of the city. Those walls towered even higher than the bridge that had enchanted her a mere moment ago.

This was truly the center of the world.

The center of the world smelt like shit.

The docks were a flock of people, animals, food, cargo, and most importantly filled with the stench of sweat, piss, and shit. Shayla wasn’t unsettled by piss and shit, since a farmer who couldn’t handle that wouldn’t make much of a farmer at all. The overwhelming stench of fish and the sheer quantity of people clustered everywhere were something else entirely. It was a loud, chaotic, and foul soup of people lifting, pulling, carrying, shoving, yelling, and drinking. A mess Dwai had the pleasure of leading everyone through. Shayla wasn’t alone of course. A small group of around 20 other initiates had also made this journey. What had surprised Shayla was the variance in age between them all. About half were around her age of sixteen, most of the rest were adults with a couple younger kids as well. All of them had gray eyes.

As they made their way out of the port she heard a man shout, “Stop that thief!”

Heads turned toward the voice coming from a large man dressed in fancy robes pointing up at some crates. Two men ran out past him. Shayla’s eyes caught sight of a dirt covered teenage boy in raggedy clothes scrambling up them. His bare feet moved fast and he quickly vaulted off the crates, knocking them down in the process. Under him was a group of workers that further slowed his pursuers. The boy landed right next to their little group. Her gray eyes met his brown ones and he gave a cocky smirk. A instant later he pushed through them, knocking some down as he blitzed forward. This boy was a crafty fellow and well ahead of the men chasing him. This was the first time she had ever seen a proper thief, being from a small village where all you had to do was ask if you needed anything and the concept of stealing made no sense.

A blue circle of light suddenly wrapped around him out of thin air, stopping him immediately. His body pushed, legs kicked the ground, struggling, grunting, but nothing worked.

“Oi! Shit is this!?” The boy looked back to see Dwai with one hand out, eyes focused. “Let me go, Snakeskin!”

Dwai gave no visible reaction to the slur thrown his way. The blue circle lifted the boy off the ground and quickly pulled him back to the group with sudden force. The three men caught up and the one in robes snatched a pouch from the boys hand.

“Wonderful work, Arcanist! You have my utmost gratitude.” Three silver coins were given to Dwai and he took them without question, the first genuine smile Shayla had seen from him flashing across his face.

“Just doing my duty to the good people of this wonderful city.” Dwai politely responded.

Finally a proper use of magic from this otherwise improper fool. Shayla smiled and hoped the boy would learn his lesson. With the money returned he’d be let go and know to just ask for help next time like she had done before back home. Her smiled faded away in a instant, eyes wide. One of the men had punched the boy right as the circle of light disappeared and sent him careening to the ground. Blood dribbled down his nose and he started coughing. He scrambled to get up, but a kick to the gut caused his body to flinch. Another kick, then another, a third, and the boy was no longer struggling at all. One of the men lifted him up by his short hair while the other grabbed his arms and held them behind the boys back.

“Filthy child!” A sharp crack was heard as the mans ring-covered hand slapped across his face. The men grabbed his limp body and dragged him off somewhere.

Shayla was frozen in fear. She was no stranger to violence when needed for hunting and eating, but this wasn’t the work of no butcher. Was this really necessary for taking a bit of money? Before she could even process the events fully Dwai raised his hand up.

“Sorry for the minor delay. Come along, pupils!” He turned back towards the street leading out of the docks and pressed on.

She remembered some of the words her Pa had told her before her journey, “Life ain’t so simple for city folk as it is for us. Stay safe.” City life was harsher then she had imagined. Shayla felt very small and alone right now. All she could do was what she had been doing and follow Dwai. Looking around her fellow travelers, some were disturbed, others bored, and a few with smiles of their own. Everyone followed all the same.

The discomfort from before lingered until they reached a wide open street, the widest street she had ever laid eyes on, with nice, even cobblestones in between buildings built as high as trees. A forest of alleyways, arches, and balconies, this wide road was the river cutting through it all. Instead of wild animals it was filled with people. All manner of folks were here doing all manner of things all over. She felt the oddest mix of emotions, disturbed by the events at the docks, overwhelmed by the people, nervous being so far from home, but nevertheless had a wide grin at the sheer size and variety surrounding her. Nothing could stop her from smiling, it was like a dream. Something a traveler would recount at the village tavern as they drank and gambled.

The sound of hooves echoed in her left ear as a carriage rode by the group. After it passed, she saw a group of dwarves sat at a round table, mugs in one hand and cards in the other. Actual dwarves! She could even smell the strong smoke coming from their pipes. Coins were piled in the center, reflecting their stoic face. One by one cards were laid on the table until a big red bearded dwarf shot up angrily and threw his drink at another dwarf’s head as a small brawl broke out. No one seemed to mind. Shayla had seen many a drunken brawl even back home, so this wasn’t so different.

Another familiar smell hit her, raw meat. Further ahead were massive spits of various meats set up over… nothing. Shayla cocked her head to the side, wondering what good raw meat with no fire would do anyone. She recognized some of them, such as pork, whole chickens, and sausages, but the rest was no animal she had ever butchered. A stream of fire shot out and the meats were set ablaze. A giant brown lizard on two legs wearing a pristine white chef’s hat and the most grease stained apron she had ever seen was spewing fire from his maw. A real dracha! They could really breathe fire! This wasn’t even magic, but felt like it to her as she watched the meat sizzling. The familiar smell of roasted meat filled the air and people gathered around with coins in hand. A uncomfortable gurgle and pain hit her, reminding her she had sent her last meal into the ocean depths.

She put her hand around the pouch on her waist. Her father had given her some coin for the trip, but Dwai had paid for everything so far. They were steadily passing the delicious food, but it seems he had no intention of stopping. In fact, she was pretty sure his pacing had increased, stupid married fool. Wife’s probably fucking another man, someone with joy. She needed food now! She quickly turned back to the crowd and tried to squeeze through. Bodies of all shapes and sizes pushed and pulled against her, but she forced her way forward. No time for waiting! She needed to quickly get something and head back. After some struggle she made it to the skewers of meat and reached for her pouch. Surprise hit first, then fear, her hands quickly grabbed at her waist all around as panic set in.

Her pouch was gone. She looked this way and that, but there was no way to tell who had taken it or when. She awkwardly stepped back into the crowd and forced her way back out. Her heart was racing, hoping to see the green cloak off in the distance. The wide street, however, was as busy as before. Another carriage rolled by which caused her to recoil and trip backwards. She quickly scrambled up, pushed her hair out of her face, and looked around. She didn’t see their group at all. Dwai may have been a boring bastard, but now she’d give anything to see his green cloak in the distance. She ran to the middle of the street, but no luck. Curse her horrible luck!

She ran her hands through her lengthy hair and stomped her boot hard on the ground.

“Dammit!”

#writing #fantasy #fiction #writeblr #OC #WIP #writers #writers of tumblr #creative writing #original writing #magic #high fantasy

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birgittesilverbae · 1 year

Text

"Hey, Lilith," Shannon says softly, buffering the closing door with her palm so it doesn't slam shut behind her. "It's almost curfew, why aren't you in your room?"

Lilith raises a finger to her lips, gestures with the other hand towards Beatrice, asleep at the table, her head pillowed on her textbook.

"What're you doing?"

"I'm trying to figure out how to wake her without waking her."

Shannon closes her eyes, pinches the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. "And how exactly is that supposed to work?"

"I said I was figuring it out," Lilith snaps back. Beatrice shifts in her chair and a stricken look washes across Lilith's face. "Could–" she starts, her voice soft again. She grits her teeth.

Shannon decides to take pity on her. "Grab her bag, would you?" She asks as she sweeps around the table and looks down at Beatrice. She's smaller than the teammates Shannon fireman carries during dryland training, so it should be simple. Once Shannon's worked Beatrice carefully into her arms, however, she finds her much heavier than she looks. Right, the kid rowed crew. Which probably explained the whole falling-asleep-in-the-library bit too, now that she gives it some more thought.

Lilith flits around her like a particularly angry mosquito, darting in and out of range as Shannon stands tall again with Beatrice cradled against her. Beatrice turns her face towards Shannon's collarbone, her hand gripping the front of Shannon's pullover, and Shannon doesn't need eyes on Lilith to sense the thunderhead that must be sweeping across her face.

"Make sure you've got everything," she says, diverting Lilith's frenetic energy towards a more productive mission.

"I'm not stupid."

"I know, I know, second in your class."

"Beatrice is a genius." Lilith radiates pride as she scoops the last of Beatrice's books into her bag.

"Not smart enough to get herself to bed before passing out," Shannon laughs. She turns sideways to move out into the hall as Lilith holds the door for her.

"Be careful," Lilith hisses, darting forward to put a hand between Beatrice and the doorframe, though there's already a foot of clearance.

"I've got her, Lilith."

Lilith sniffs. "I've seen enough of your attempts at doorways to know better than to entrust her safety to you."

So what if she'd all but clotheslined herself with her stick coming off the ice the week prior. "That was one time," she gripes, dropping a shoulder to knock it against Lilith's. "Now be quiet, you'll wake her."

Lilith makes an indignant noise, but Shannon sweeps on down the hall.

The dorm room's two single beds have been shoved together against one wall, their sheets tucked tight with a military precision that makes a lump form in Shannon's throat. She swallows hard, looks anywhere but the square corners as Lilith pulls back the sheets on the side furthest from the door. Shannon deposits Beatrice there and extricates her arms, then scrubs idly at the back of her neck with a hand.

"You two need anything else?"

"No," Lilith says sharply, already kneeling at the bedside to relieve Beatrice of her slip-on shoes. "Thank you," she adds grudgingly, her voice warming a fraction of a degree.

"Any time." Shannon jerks her chin towards Beatrice. "Tell her to come see me tomorrow, alright? She and I need to have a talk."

"About?" Lilith's tone goes ice cold.

Shannon rolls her eyes. "No need to go guard dog on me. If she's falling asleep like that before it's even hit 9PM, that raises some concerns that it's my duty to attempt to address before bringing the issue to the faculty. Alright? Now, I've gotta go let Coach D know she won't be at practice tomorrow morning. See she gets a lie in, yeah?" Lilith gives her agreement distractedly, too busy aligning Beatrice's shoes just so at the foot of her bed, and Shannon sighs. "Just, let her know I need to speak with her, okay? Have a good night, Lilith."

Shannon lingers at the door long enough to watch Lilith press a fleeting kiss to Beatrice's forehead as she pulls the sheets up to the girl's chin. Then she closes the door softly behind her and sets off for the teachers' quarters. A late night meeting with Coach Duretti is never high on her bucket list, especially when he's definitely going to harp on her about wearing track pants with her uniform top, but needs must.

She loosens her tie even further, just to really fuck with him, and sets off down the stairs.

"Lilith, did you turn my alarm off?"

Lilith tucks her toothbrush into the pocket of her cheek and leans back into the dorm room to see Beatrice scrambling out of bed, her face a mask of panic as she yanks dresser drawers open in a hasty search for her training kit. "I don't think you set it," she says awkwardly around the bristles.

"Oh." Beatrice pauses, hoodie half over her head. "Wait. Did I fall asleep in the library again?"

Lilith shrugs. She catches her reflection in the mirror and rolls her eyes before she resumes brushing her teeth.

"Did y–" Beatrice starts from behind her. She trails off for a moment before continuing. "Did someone bring me back here?"

Lilith spits, then takes her time thoroughly rinsing her toothbrush before answering. "I don't know," she replies, tucking the brush back in the holder, her red alongside Beatrice's green. "Maybe you walked back and forgot."

"Oh," Beatrice says quietly, her brow furrowed. "Okay then." She drops to the floor and reaches for her slip-ons, but Lilith knocks her hand away with the side of her foot in passing.

"Go back to bed, Beatrice."

"Practice–"

"Masters says you're not allowed to go again until you've talked to her, and you know she doesn't get up before nine on weekends if she doesn't have to. Go back to bed, and I'll bring up breakfast for you."

"Peaches in my oatmeal?"

Lilith's gorge rises at the mere thought of the texture monstrosity, but she nods despite herself. "Of course, Beatrice. Now go to sleep."

#fic: dads #beatrice x lilith #mywn #myfic #warrior nun

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disenchantedif · 10 months

Text

A ko-fi commission I completed for the Theo/Cam poly route!

“You got sand on my toes,” Theo complains, staring down at his flip-flops.

Cameron freezes from where he’s trying to shove an umbrella into the ground, and you can’t help but laugh at his expression. This, of course, makes Theo laugh as well…and earns you a side-eye from Cam.

“You’re not helping.” Cam says, exasperated as he watches the two of you laugh, “You know he gets worse when people laugh at him.”

“I get worse?” Theo gasps dramatically with a hand pressed over his heart like a distraught church-goer, “I’ll have you know-”

“See?” Cameron cuts the cambion off as he looks at you, gesturing sharply with his hand, “Look what you did.”

Theo nearly cackles, going over to wrap an arm around Cam’s shoulder to place a messy kiss on his cheek, “You love it.”

“Unfortunately.” The sorcerer says witheringly, “Also, it’s a beach, Theo. There’s sand everywhere.”

“I know, it’s awful!” The cambion says mournfully, “I’ll be digging it out of places for a month.”

“Sand in various crevices aside,” You tilt your sunglasses down to glance around the beach, “Why the hell is it so quiet today? It’s a mid-July Saturday. The height of summer. Where are all the families and annoying tourists?”

“Uh, well, it might just be slow…for some reason.” Cameron shrugs, wholly unconvincing, “What do they say? Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“Bet the Trojans wish they had,” Theo says as he digs through your cooler to find a drink.

You both pause, looking down at him.

“Sometimes I forget he’s actually smart,” Cameron says, glancing at you, “Then he says stuff like that and I’m brutally reminded.”

Theo pouts, slinging the cold water on his fingers right at Cam. In retaliation, Cam kicks sand all over Theo.

“Children,” You interrupt blandly, “Back to the matter at hand, please?”

“I mean, Sam is right.” Theo says, trying to dust his swim shorts off in vain, “Maybe something to do with that sign over there?”

Posted on the bulletin board right near the beach entrance is a sign that read ‘BEACH CLOSED FOR PRIVATE EVENT’ in big, bold letters.

You jolt, going to grab your bags, “Shit! I didn’t even see that! Let’s go, like, now. Before whoever rented it out shows up, preferably.”

“We don’t have to leave,” Cam sighs, finally getting the umbrella to stick up straight, “We’re the, uh, private event.”

It’s quiet for all of two seconds before Theo starts laughing.

“You rented the beach out for our date?” The cambions says between bouts of amusement, “Seriously?”

“Technically, my aunt did.” Cameron grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck, “But, uh, yeah.”

Your eyebrows raise, “That’s…actually sweet.”

“Thank you!” Cam gestures to you while narrowing his eyes at Theo, “And that’s how someone reacts to a thoughtful gesture from their boyfriend, Theo.”

“From their boyfriend’s aunt, you mean.” The cambion snickers.

You cough to hide your laughter, but Cam notices. He huffs, shaking the towels out.

“Sam doesn’t like people around,” He snips, “I thought it would…be nice, I guess…”

Smiling slightly, you grab his arm and pull him down for a brief kiss.

“It was nice.” You say as you part, “And I do appreciate it, Cam. Thank you.”

He flushes, his cheeks turning a dark red, “Uh, no problem.”

“Yeah, Cam.” Theo comes closer with a grin, “Now we don’t have to worry if anyone sees us naked.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. You lean down, grabbing a fistful of sand and swiftly dumping it down Theo’s swim shorts in response.

“Oh, come on!” The cambion gripes, shimmying as he tries to brush himself off.

He has little to no luck.

Cameron is the one cackling now, “What was that about digging sand out?”

Theo flips him the bird, losing his shorts quickly and practically sliding into the water in an effort to defeat the itchiness.

“You know, Sam, if you wanted my shorts off, you only had to ask!” Theo calls out from the water.

“I don’t think being nude was necessary for success in this case.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, “But whatever. Not like anyone will see.”

You both join him in the water, Cam carrying his shorts along and insisting he put them back on after a rinse in the seawater. Theo complies only after demanding a kiss from you both in compensation for his so-called ‘sand-related emotional trauma.’

He gets two kisses, along with two eye rolls.

“You know, the wings actually make floating in the water easier,” Theo says, lounging on his back as he uses said wings like a glorified raft.

“No shit.” Cameron blinks, brows furrowing, “They make all kinds of floating easier. They’re wings.”

“I was simply pointing out an observation.” Theo laughs before flipping around and submerging himself in the water once more, “Hey, Sam! Cameron! Wanna play mermaids?”

“You’ll lose,” You say with full confidence, “I’ve been going swimming with Penny in the Athletic Center every Wednesday.”

“That’s not even fair,” Theo says, “Playing mermaids isn’t even a competition and you’d kick our asses. You have, like, professional mermaid training.”

“Professional mermaid training…” Cameron repeats the phrase slowly, “That’s not something I thought I’d hear today.”

“But I’m right! Sirens are scary, real-life mermaids, and Sam got training from one.” Theo points out, “She would wreck us playing mermaids.”

“Training is a strong word,” You admit, “But I would wreck you, yes.”

“What about…Marco Polo?” Cam suggests.

Theo gives him an incredulous look, “Are you forgetting the time we played hide and seek in the Rec Center while Sam and Vik were in Intro to Alchemy? You glamoured yourself and followed me around while I looked for you!”

“That was pretty funny.” Cameron chuckles.

“It was humiliating.” Theo mourns.

Your brows furrowed, “Why have I not heard this story?”

“Because it was humiliating!” Theo re-affirms.

Cam only shrugs, “I was sworn to secrecy.”

“So, no to Marco Polo. I’m never playing any game involving seeking with you ever again.” Theo pokes Cam’s chest with a finger.

“I have an idea,” You announce.

They both turn to you, their full attention focused on words that never come. Instead, you use your arm to make a giant wave that hits them both in the face with water.

Theo throws his hands up, “Hell yeah! Splash fight!”

Things only devolve from there, and you’re suddenly very glad Cam’s aunt rented out the beach. You don’t know how tabloids would spin the story of The Chosen One, The Unchosen One, and a cambion having a splash fight in the ocean, but you can imagine it wouldn’t be an attractive story for any of you.

#disenchantedif #theo parker #cameron fletcher #commission

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howlingday · 2 months

Note

Had a random thought about the Ponderstorms in the ever after and what everyone saw in them in volume 9 and I wanted to see if it ripped anyone else's heart out the same way it did mine:

How many Times do you think Jaune got caught in a ponderstorm and saw his family(both bio and _NPR)? How many times did he see RWBY? How many time did he see what he used to be among them? Do you think he ever started to forget exactly what they looked like? like their colours starting to get slowly wrong or faces to become slight less detailed? Do you think that the reason he seemed to be so desperate to not get caught in the ponderstorm wasn't only because of how much time it could waste, but because Jaune might have been afraid of what he'd see reflected in the crossroads?

The Punderstorms Ponderstorms were an interesting feature I wasn't expecting in Volume 9. Though I have my gripes about it's use, I can't deny it does have a fascinating set of rules to it and effects it causes.

That said, Jaune explaining the rules tells us that he's been in his fair share of these through his decades of experience in the Ever After. Along with that, it makes you wonder what Jaune actually went through in there. Did he say the wrong thing and get sent down a hole like Weiss? Did he have a reflection like the one when he guided Ruby and Weiss through? Was he caught in a terrible storm on a shaky bridge with the Curious Cat and he had to take them into his arms and-

What were we talking about? Oh, right! I think Jaune has seen enough to leave him looking haunted in Volume 9. What exactly, though, I can't tell.

#rwby #my thoughts #my answer #my answers #jaune arc

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

Text

heart has his heart | part 1.

Summary: (Y/N) Heart is chosen alongside her friends to attend Auradon Prep. Of course her friend Mal’s mom, Maleficent, has a much more sinister plan than the kids just attending Auradon. Will they be able to pull of stealing the wand or will (Y/N) find herself liking Auradon a bit too much?

Pairing: Ben x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: none

(Series Masterlist)

Curl Up and Dye was where you and your mother often spent your Mother-Daughter Day. Unlike most villains, the Queen and King of Hearts actually cared about their kid— only your dad would never be caught dead in a hair salon, no matter what the special occasion. The Queen was getting her signature curls from Lady Tremaine, she didn’t trust Dizzy to do it.

You on the other hand had no problem letting the young girl do your hair, as long as it was pretty you were satisfied. Any style would do, you figured you looked great in anything, anyway. Hair wasn’t your main focus, it was always the makeup. While you rarely put on a full face something about you always was made up. Whether it was just eyeliner, or just lipstick, or some blush, some part of your face was done.

Evie, The Evil Queen, Mal, and Maleficent came into the salon. It was rare for the two older women to be seen together but ever since Evie joined Mal’s gang, the two learned to tolerate each other. Maleficent stopped right in front of you as Dizzy was putting the final touches.

“Are you ready to go?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You handed Dizzy a ten-dollar tip for herself.

“You bet your head that my daughter is ready.”

“Haven’t you had enough of heads already?” Queen Grimhilde joked as she admired your mother’s hair.

“I’m just saying our girls will do us proud.”

“To think I’ll have my hands on that wand!” Maleficent said excitedly. “Girls! Do your mothers proud.”

You left the shop with Evie and Mal. You were such an odd sight, the three of you. You and Evie made sense but Mal being so overt with her evil didn’t seem to fit with you guys. You girls met up with Jay and Carlos to go over final plans. You left for Auradon tomorrow.

The five of y’all settled into the back of the limo. You had on your mother’s prized crown. It was the possession you chose to take with you to Auradon. You watched in disgust as Jay and Carlos stuffed their faces with candy and chocolate.

“I know that we’ve never had sweets before but you could at least act dignified?” You asked, delicately picking a sour gummy from the bowl Carlos was holding and popped it into your mouth.

“Sorry we weren’t all raised like you, princess? Some of us peasants had to struggle.”

“Not my fault your dad got tricked into a lamp. You know, forget the sweets. I wonder what street rat taste like.”

Jay rolled his eyes and went back to the candy. You weren’t one to spare anyone from your sarcasm and gripe. You were a royal after all, how else should you conduct yourself? Even the gang was subject to your funny yet sometimes relentless and obnoxious roasting.

“Ooh, M, you’re looking a little washed out. Here let me help you.” Evie applied some blush to Mal’s cheeks but she swatted the hand away.

“Eww, stop. I’m plotting.”

“Well, it’s not very attractive.” The blue-haired girl went back to sucking on her piece of rock salt candy.

Mal pressed a button on some random remote, causing you and Evie to look at the little black panel separating you from the driver roll down. That wasn’t the only thing rolling down, so was the barrier… with no bridge.

“IT’S A TRAP!”

You yelled; but, there was nothing you and the VKs could do but scream. And you kept screaming until you realized that you weren’t plummeting to your death. In fact, you weren’t anywhere near the water. The bridge slowly appeared as the limo kept going.

“Hey, um, did this just open the barrier?” You held up the remote and asked the driver.

“That opens my garage door, this remote opens the barrier.” The driver held up a different remote. “And this…”

He pressed a button that made the partition slide back up, blocking you guys from his sight. You scoffed, did he have manners? Mal turned back around and smiled.

“Ha. Nasty… I like that guy.”

You could hear the music before the limo had even fully pulled into campus. Looks like Auradon Prep pulled out all the stops. You weren’t sure why. If only they knew the five of you weren’t planning on staying too long. You stepped out the car and looked to see the mixture of shock and disgust on the faces of three people in front of you. Two of them you recognized: Fairy Godmother and Prince Benjamin. You followed their gaze to where Jay and Carlos were wrestling over who got to have the stolen electronics from the limo, Jay clearly winning. You weren’t surprised. Mal nudged the two of them and they looked over.

“Hehe, just cleaning up,” Jay said.

“Leave it like you found it… actually, just leave it.”

Jay dropped the equipment, and effectively Carlos, and strolled over to the girl whose name you didn’t know.

“Hey, Foxy. The name’s Jay.”

You had to stop yourself from gagging, five minutes at Auradon and he was already trying to get some. The girl looked him up and down, unimpressed.

Same sister, you thought.

“Welcome to Auradon Prep. I’m Fairy Godmother, Headmistress.” The fairy spoke up, saving everyone from embarrassment.

“The Fairy Godmother? As in Bibbidi-Bobbidi Boo?” Mal asked.

“No, M, as in Topsy Turvy Too. What other Fairy Godmother’s do you know.” You didn’t even mean to be sarcastic, it just slipped out. Mal gave you a mildly annoyed push while Fairy Godmother looked on smiling.

“Well, Bibbidi-Bobbidi you know it.”

Is she always like this? You thought to yourself as you watched Prince Benjamin usher her away before he addressed you guys.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Ben—”

“Prince Benjamin.” The girl cut him off. Somehow you suddenly just knew she was going to get on your nerves.

“You had me at prince.” Evie stepped up. “I’m Evie. My mother’s a queen so that makes me a princess.”

“The Evil Queen has no jurisdiction here or royal status. And neither do you.”

“I mean neither does that outfit but they still let you wear it out the house.” You muttered under your breath. It wasn’t as quiet as you thought. The other VKs snickered at your comment.

“This is Audrey,” Ben tried to diffuse the situation.

“Princess Audrey. Sleeping Beauty’s daughter and his girlfriend. Right, Benny-Boo?”

You looked over to Mal, the irony wasn’t lost on you at all. This was going to be a great time.

“This will be a momentous occasion and one that I hope will go down in history…” Ben went and shook everyone’s hand. “As the day our two peoples meet and begin to heal.”

You gave him a right proper curtsey to match whatever boisterous speech he just gave.

“A bit much?”

“Just a bit. Next time maybe just you arriving to Auradon Prep will be remembered in history,” you said before shaking his hand.

“Noted.”

“Princess (Y/N) Heart.” You emphasized the princess just to annoy Audrey. Ben didn’t seem fazed or even attempt to correct you like she did to Evie.

“Heart? That’s your last name? I thought it was just a part of Wonderland, the Valley of Hearts.”

Ben didn’t let go of your hand.

“In Wonderland, royals take the last name of where they rule. We rule the Valley of Hearts so, I’m a Heart.”

Audrey was by Ben’s side in an instant. “Well, no one really rules over the Valley of Hearts anymore. Your mother made sure of that with the whole off with your head thing.”

“Aww, and here I thought we might actually be friends… you know we never actually beheaded anyone right? It’s just a saying. Although, I’d be very happy to change that count from zero beheadings to one.”

You finally let go of Ben’s hand. “You gonna show us around or what?”

“Uh, yeah. Right this way.”

Ben signaled to where the front doors and a statue were. Before he could head off to lead the tour, you shrugged and looked over at the VKs giving two snaps to signal it was time to head out. Ben had to run to be in front of the group. Ben stopped in front of the statue. Now that you were closer you could see it was one of King Beast, a man your parents didn’t like at all. He was one that might make the first actual beheading in the Valley of Hearts if your mother ever saw him.

Ben clapped and the statue changed from King Adam’s human form to him in Beast form. You covered your ears as Carlos screamed and jumped into Jay’s arms.

“Relax, Carlos. My dad wanted his statue to change from beast to man to remind us that anything is possible if we try hard enough.”

Carlos made a clapping motion but nothing happened.

“Oh. It only works with the royal family.”

Just because it amused you to try, you clapped your hands. The statue took a minute but it shifted. Everyone turned to look at you.

“Your statue’s broken.”

“Huh.” Ben said nothing else but continued the tour.

(Part 2)...

#ben florian x reader #descendants fic

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letsquestjess · 6 months

Text

Protective Measures - Part 1 (Howzer x GN!Reader)

Summary: During diplomatic talks on Ryloth, Howzer is assigned as your security. In the weeks you spend together, unfortunate feelings begin to bloom.

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: None. Future parts will be 18+.

Part 2

-- -- -- -- --

“If Ryloth had any sense of propriety, they would have arranged for separate shuttles and a grand procession,” Senator Kel proclaimed, gesturing with dark, well-groomed nails at the cramped confines of the craft.

“It is rather stuffy,” Senator Evana granted. With a graceful flick, she brushed her sleek, golden hair away from her face and stuffed her nose in the air. “I suppose their resources are not as ambitious as we may have assumed.”

Many of the others fell into synchronised agreement like simpering dominoes, and you resisted the urge to shake your head at their finicky behaviour. You said nothing. As a representative from an inconsequential planet, your voice was constantly disregarded and dismissed unless it was to offer something deemed valuable. However, you were not going to sit in silence during the negotiations. You had plenty of experience fighting back, and you weren’t about to let them intimidate you. Your people depended on you, and you approached your job with a deep sense of responsibility.

“Anyone would think we were being taken prisoner,” Senator Evana retorted, earning herself a round of pretentious laughs.

Wriggling in your seat, your eyes drew across the magnificent display of clouds unfurling in the boundless expanse below as the ship broke through Ryloth airspace and smoothly landed on the private docking platform on the outskirts of Lessu. Beside the landing pad, a large cluster of clones and a neat line of stone-faced officers stood in formation.

You let the rest of the senators file out before you got to your feet and ventured into the blazing sunlight, defending your eyes with your arm. While your colleagues voiced their demands and complaints, you waited.

A uniformed Twi’lek officer approached at a purposeful speed and scrolled through his datapad. The accompanying clone halted a few steps behind. “Welcome to Ryloth, senator,” the officer huffed, his words carrying the weight of practised repetition. He gestured to the helmeted man with him. “This is Captain Howzer. He will be your security for the duration of your stay. If you need anything, let him know.”

Without so much as a pause for a response, the official departed to attend to the others, leaving you alone with your protector. Your outstretched hand was met with a hesitant shake from the captain, and you introduced yourself.

“Is it always so busy during a visit?” you asked as he guided you through the crowded mass of clones and politicians and officers and towards the translucent plasma bridge.

“It’s not been this lively for a while,” Howzer replied, his low tones modulated by the helmet’s speakers. “But you don’t need to worry. Everything has been taken care of.”

“I can see that,” you said. Glancing around, the griping senators seemed to have been pacified for the time being, promised all that tumbled from their lips and satisfied with their provisions.

“Is there anything in particular you need while you’re here? Food requirements, wake-up calls, that sort of thing?” Howzer questioned.

“Just a quiet room nowhere near the other senators,” you answered with a light-hearted chuckle.

“In that case, you’ll be glad to know your apartment is in a quieter part of the complex.”

You silently thanked your lucky stars. The last few trips with them had been a taxing ordeal, and you dreaded a repeat of the squabbles that ran over into the night and the disagreements that hounded you at the dining table. You were determined that this time would be different, and the idea of a suite secluded enough to shield you from uncompromising politicians seemed like a promising start.

* * *

As the surrounding arguments escalated into a near screaming match, you sighed and rubbed the bridge of your nose. Amidst the fury, fingers were jabbed accusingly, and insults flew in a storm of spit and indignation.

“How dare you question my integrity when your barbarous planet cannot go a rotation without threatening each other,” Senator Evana fumed. Her chair squeaked as it was unceremoniously shoved backwards and she rose to her feet. The man that she argued with scoffed a derisive snort, and his response only provoked her further.

“With all due respect, Senator Evana, what you’re suggesting would divert vital resources from many of our planets,” you interjected, tired of the arrogance accumulating by the second. “What are we to tell our people when they ask why taxes have increased to cover your costs, and how they are supposed to access necessities when you have taken so much? I refuse to put the citizens of my world in such a position for nothing more than pure greed.”

Several senators in your vicinity aired their agreements with your sentiment and added their outright refusal into the mix.

“Ever the compassionate soul,” Kel scorned. “I think Senator Evana has a point.”

“Only because you benefit from whatever she gains,” you snapped. Kel’s intense gaze pierced through you, but you stood firm, refusing to falter at his weak attempts to daunt you.

Following another bout of viciously worded disagreements and scathing remarks, the advocate of the meeting called for a temporary suspension and a continuation was set for the next morning. Seething, the senators piled out of the room, clenching their fists and spitting their displeasure.

“After what I’ve just witnessed, I think it’s safe to say that war and politics have at least one thing in common,” Howzer said, as he accompanied you from the hall.

“And what would that be?” you asked.

“They’re both cutthroat.”

You let out a small laugh at that. “Perhaps, but the chances of me getting shot are considerably lower than yours,” you pointed out.

“I don’t know,” the clone captain confessed jokingly. “Senator Kel definitely looked like he’d happily take a swipe.”

“He’s all bark and no bite.”

Throughout the weeks you had spent on Ryloth, you discovered a surprising ally in Howzer, someone you could trust and confide in. Meeting after meeting, he attentively listened to your grievances and showed a genuine concern for your troubles, soothing them with reassurances and the occasional quip to cheer you up.

“But I don’t want to talk about that atrocious session,” you decided, “and I’d rather not return to the apartment yet.”

“Is there anywhere you’d like to go?” he asked.

“Somewhere peaceful where there isn’t any bustle.”

For a moment he dithered, and you wondered what was going through his mind. His gloved hand absentmindedly grazed over the rough, clawed scar on his cheek.

“There must be some place for a bit of quiet,” you said.

“Many,” the captain replied. “That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is it?”

“You’ll be searching for some time if you want somewhere quiet in Lessu, and I’m not allowed to take you outside the city while negotiations are ongoing, unless for an emergency.”

“Ah, I see.” Hands clasped behind your hips, you surveyed the towering architecture and ornate dark-wood patterns that adorned the walls of the political centre. “I suppose we had better head to the apartment, then.”

“I didn’t say that,” Howzer said. His chestnut eyes sparkled with a knowing glimmer, and a grin curled at the corner of his lips. “Come on. This way.”

The captain steered you in the opposite direction of the capital, guiding you through hidden pathways and taking careful steps to remain concealed. You descended into the lower reaches and ascended again up a smooth slope just outside the city limits.

As soon as you reached flat land, a sprawling garden unfolded, bursting with vibrant colours and inviting you into the pruned greenery. Floral designs dispersed along grainy routes, adding a touch of elegance to the marble-tiled edge of the rectangular pool.

“This was part of a palace retreat,” Howzer explained as you marvelled at the network of flowery tracks. “When the war broke out, construction stopped. The bricks were taken and used for new military buildings, but they left the garden. Most don’t even know it’s here, but Senator Taa likes to keep it looking presentable.”

“This is… I…” You struggled to find the right words and ended up gaping, savouring the serene stillness, a complete departure from the opulent chambers and heated outbursts of your peers.

Hours passed as you walked the crunching paths, the sun casting long shadows as you swapped stories and competed to make each other laugh. For a meagre fraction in time, the seconds seemed to fade into insignificance, but with the pool beginning to turn from a deep orange to a striking red, you were forced to return to the city. To the cacophony of responsibilities and the duty that awaited, and away from that treasured tranquillity.

* * *

The dining hall buzzed with lively conversation and the rhythmic clatter of silverware. Any discussion that veered too close to a disagreement was squashed for the sake of decency at the banquet table, but the occasional gibe managed to slip through. There was no way to predict how the negotiations would end, given the constant flurry of self-interest and avarice. Somehow, it would have to happen, yet as the weeks passed with no resolution in sight, you couldn’t help but ponder the sacrifices that would need to be made for the talks to conclude. Despite the situation, your resolve endured unshaken. If it meant aiding your people and ensuring a secure future for them, you would willingly stay on Ryloth for the next cycle.

And when you thought about it, maybe extending your visit wouldn’t be such a terrible idea.

From the orderly row of assigned clones by the glass doors, Howzer’s gaze locked onto yours. Ever since your walk together in the hidden gardens, your mind had drifted to him. His steadfast yet gentle nature drew you to him in a way you hadn’t expected, but it wasn’t an unwelcome emotion. Just an unfortunate one. Your duties left you wandering down diverging paths, and regardless of how you both might feel, neither of you could do anything about it.

Discreetly slipping a handful of chocolate discs from your dessert bowl into a napkin, you tucked them into your pocket and excused yourself from the table, heading into the vacant lobby. As always, Howzer trailed faithfully behind.

You reached the courtyard fountain outside and a cool mist poured over the rim to smoother the pebbles.

“You shouldn’t stay out here for too long,” the captain advised, holding his distance. Deep within his heart, he longed to be by your side, offering his warmth as a shield against Ryloth’s nighttime chill, but he withheld his desires for your sake more than his own. For now, he was happy just to be in your company.

“It gets much colder than this back home,” you said, drawing the concealed napkin from your pocket and placing it directly into his warm, battle-scarred hands. “Here. For you.” You watched as he peeled open the embroidered fabric, revealing the flat rounds of chocolate.

“Senator, I can’t accept-”

“Please. You work incredibly hard and get very little recognition for it. I know it’s only chocolate, but you deserve something nice. Consider it a small thank you for protecting me. And for keeping me sane.”

Howzer chuckled, a rough, captivating sound that had a blissful heat expanding from your cheeks to the tips of your ears.

He snapped a piece between his teeth and held the bundle out to you, shaking the sweet treats temptingly until you agreed to at least take one. ‘I shall miss you when you go,’ he hopelessly craved to say as you slipped the sweet into your mouth and beamed at him in such a radiant way that he could feel the jealousy of every sun in the galaxy.

He swallowed the words with the rich, velvety chocolate and sealed them away. Such confessions would only make your inevitable parting that much more difficult, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

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