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#i want to do better for me and the people around me
jojikawa · 2 days
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Beauty and the Beast
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An event where you are a woman in the 50s trying to turn the head of your neighbor, Francis Mosses when you are stalked and pursued by his evil counterpart.
Art by ilameys
Zettai Zetsumei • Co shu Nie
Word Count: 5.7k
⚠️: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT ♥ Manhandling, Slight body horror descriptions, descriptions of blood, himbo!doppelgänger!Francis Mosses, Yandere Behavior, Mentions of Stalking, sexualization of the female MC by Fake Francis, SMUT(CNC, mentions of a "rape kit"), and monster cock.
I write for free, but if you wanna further support me > Ko-Fi 🎀
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Life was somewhat boring for you as a woman in the 50s. Despite being sought after by a lot of the men in your apartment complex, you had your heart set on one man. You only got to see him once a day. Francis Mosses. When he would deliver milk to your door in the morning. No matter how cute or cherry you were, it seemed like his mind was set on other things. The man always looked tired but you thought he was handsome no matter what. Maybe even more handsome…it was just something about hot men being tired that made them so much hotter.
You had hoped that eventually, he’d notice you and finally take you on a date!
But that hope soon faded when you read the newspapers. They talked about how doppelgängers are becoming a lot more frequent and the D.D.D. would be installing new units everywhere to ensure that no evil counterparts are making their way into the homes of others and killing people. You were able to tell if this made you feel safer or a lot more scared. What if someone made a mistake…?
Well, you didn’t have a chance to feel anything really, as the D.D.D. was extremely secretive about this kind of threat. After some time, it became normalized and it soon left your mind. The Doorman job seemed to be pretty effective as you had never seen any monsters before and were very much alive. It was rumored that the creatures would murder and eat any person they encountered if they succeeded in passing as humans. This is another reason you had your heart set on Francis. You felt as though he could protect you at a time like this. Maybe it was naive of you but after all, you were just a girl.
“Good Morning.”
Upon hearing the small knock at your door, you went to greet him. Francis stood tall, rather confused about you coming to get your bottled milk so quickly.
“Oh, good morning…” He replied flatly, gripping the strap of his milk bag. You thought that maybe he had a mutual crush on you and was too shy to act on it. So, you could take that step for him.
“How are you this morning? I hope that life is agreeing with you today.” You stepped outside of your apartment door with your glass of milk in hand. Francis shrugged. “I suppose it is.” He then yawned before saying “What’s wrong? Are you looking for another?”
You blinked. “Huh?” Your eyes then darted down to your hands. “O-Oh…sure.” You smiled attractively, causing him to break eye contact with you. He reached into his milk carrier and revealed and took out another. “You’re only allowed to get one every day but you can have mine.” He walked up to you and placed the bottle into your free hand.
“Th-Thanks!”
“Don’t mention it.”
After he disappeared around the corner, you were filled with joy! That interaction was such a good sign. He gave you his milk bottle. You had to make him something for dinner tonight as a gift!
Thunk!
You almost jumped at the sound of glass falling on the carpet at the far end of the hallway behind you. It looked like an empty milk bottle if you squinted hard enough. There was a shadow as well. It made you feel uneasy and quickly made you retreat into your home.
You wanted to try seeing if you could have more time with Francis. There was a job opening for the D.D.D. Doorman of your building and you instantly took it. Being able to meet with Francis when he wasn’t busy might have your conversations with him take a turn for the better. You really appreciated his selfless gesture. So, seeing him at least twice a day would make your life so much brighter. Francis was the complete package. Tall, handsome, quiet, and most of all, soft-spoken. You’d be a good wife to him.
On the first day of the job, you didn’t receive any proper training. You were given an informational video and a set of instructions that you scrambled to memorize as a long line of your neighbors awaited their inspection outside. The job was easy at first and you did it well. It was a chore but those are easy. You let in the right people and you called the D.D.D. when you found a doppelganger like you were instructed to. Unfortunately, at the end of the day, Francis didn’t pay you any mind. You gave him a soft smile through the glass before asking him about his day. 
“I hope work is treating you well.” You pitched your voice up to sound cuter. Your graceful hands moved swiftly as you sifted through the many layers of documents, trying to organize them before your next neighbor. “Yeah, I suppose.” He answered, blinking rather slowly. Your smile widened. “Any days off soon? I’d like to see you outside of your uniform.” You winked at him and he just shrugged. “Dunno.”
“Well, maybe, sometime after your hard work, you tell me a day you’d think you would be free?” 
You waited with anticipation for his response. He seemed rather confused and it was rather adorable. Then he said “I don’t really know. I think I’m busy but I’ll let you know if that changes.”
Your smile faltered just a little but you were good at faking emotions. “Oh, no worries.” You waved him off in a playful manner before pressing the button to allow him inside. Your shift ended and you thought that you should probably get to making that dinner for him as a ‘thank you’ for the free milk. As you began to clean up, the pressure of your job began to set in. This wasn’t something that you could just quit if Francis were to reject you. Ignoring all the unexplainable noises, the dark figures, and the constant feeling of being watched, it would be very awkward seeing him every day after that.
It was a new day. Francis came to check into the building and you let him go without chatting with him because you didn’t want to seem like a bother. But…then you saw him again.
“Francis?” You cutely tilted your head. The way he looked at you was much different than usual. The Francis you knew could barely make meaningful eye contact with you but right now he had no problem burning holes into your skull with his eyes. Not only that but he was visibly bigger as well. Taller and more masculine. His arms were big and veiny. This was NOT Francis Mosses.
“I-ID…?” You gave a nervous half-smile as you tried to hide your stutter. The humanoid creature gawked, a subtle sense of happiness washing over its face the longer it stayed there. “Don’t have it on me.” It replied plainly. You picked up the clipboard before exing out the box that was labeled “ID.”
“W-Well, you seem to look a lot like someone who’s already checked in. Please, give me a moment to confirm.” You flashed it a close-eyed smile. Upon seeing it, the fake Francis moved closer to the window, fogging it up with its mouth breathing.
You pressed the big red button to close the shutter before dialing the number to the D.D.D. 
The representative told you someone would be over right away to dispose of the doppelgänger. It only took about a minute before they’d arrive. Normally, the shutter would open on its own after being reset by the D.D.D. member but for some reason, it didn’t You figured that now would be a good time to open it to help the last neighbors but when you did, you were not met with the hazmat suit you were so familiar with. 
In front of you was the same fake Francis from before, now covered in some blood. His expression was one of annoyance and the veins in his arms were pulsating as if he were trying to contain some kind of anger.
“E-Excuse me, but you need to—!”
“Let me in.”
Your heart dropped. It talked! And it sounded just like Francis too. 
You shook your head. “N-No! I’m not letting a monster in.” You reached for the number to re-dial the number again.
“But I think you look so pretty today. You wore that just for me, huh? I’d love to t-tear it off of you.” The creature’s neck involuntarily cracked its neck, twisting it in a demonic way. You screamed at the sight, pressing the button once more to close the shutters so that you wouldn’t have to see it. As they went down, the doppelgänger tried to stop it by putting his hand under it. It got caught in the track, causing it to get stuck on the track and it was open halfway.
“Come on, Darling, I know you’re not about to call those bastards again. I don’t want to have to hurt anyone else.” The large man-creature crouched down. You could see his fanged canine teeth poking out of his mouth. You backed away from the window with the telephone in hand.
3312…
You listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before the receptionist answered.
“Hello?”
“P-Please send help!” You cried over the phone. Tears began to spill out of your eyes upon hearing the squeal of metal as the predator stretched and bent it to his will. The glass was the only thing left that could stop him from entering.
You saw how abnormally long his tongue was when it glided over his lips. “I just want to taste you…”
The receptionist dispatched another group of workers to help dispose of the doppelgänger. They arrived almost instantly. It was only then that the fake Francis moved away from the window. You sighed in relief, trying to calm yourself down from the events that transpired. You ran over to the tempered glass. The mental door looked like sheet paper.
You saw no trace of the Hazmat people but you also didn’t see the fake Francis anymore. You quickly gathered your things and rushed to leave. You opened the door to let yourself out. You planned to run to your room and lock the door but as soon as you had left the room, you bumped into a stiff, toned chest. The figure grabbed you by your neck and forced you to look at them. The gloved hand was covered in blood and it stained your skin and the collar of your dress.
“Where do you think you’re going, Princess?”
His grip around your throat was so tight that you weren’t able to form words. It was completely covered in blood and in its other hand was a knife dripping with blood as well. It kept the violence to one side of the room so that you weren’t able to see anything unless you completely left the screening room.
The light clank of the knife hitting the ground could be heard and its newly free hand grabbed your waist. The doppelgänger hugged you to its masculine chest. Its head rested itself on top of yours before it planted its nose in the crown of your head before inhaling your scent deeply. The blaring sound of the alarm continued to go off and it was deafening.
Your nose was overloaded with the scent of fresh blood. The pure shock didn’t let you resist his touch. His grip loosened and you dropped everything you had in your hands on the floor, staining it in with the red substance
“P-Please.”
You felt its large hand around the back of your neck and you feared that it would snap it and kill you any second. You held your breath as you felt it set the other hand on your waist as well, rubbing it gingerly.
It felt like the doppelgänger was sizing you up to see if you’d be a good enough meal for it.
“He-ey, beautiful. It's… okay…” 
The doppelgänger’s speech was somewhat disconnected but it was fluid for the most part. At first, it was clear he was a fake but the more he kept talking, the more it sounded like the real thing…like it was learning in real time.
Your heart rate accelerated when you felt its hand travel ever so slowly from your waist to the collar of your dress. The inhuman smile on its face widened and it suddenly ripped the cloth that covered your torso. You gasped, instinctively covering your now exposed bra.
You wiggled out of its grip and used the opportunity to run. You kicked off your pumps and ran barefoot to your apartment. All you could do was hope that more of the D.D.D. would come and solve the issue before anyone else could get hurt. The emergency alarm was still going off so the authorities should be there soon.
When you arrived at your door, you tried to scramble to look for your keys so that you could get inside but…
…you remembered that you dropped them along with the rest of your possessions.
The sound of heavy footsteps approaching behind you. The large shadow engulfed your smaller form.
“Allow me.” The stranger said, calmly. Their large fist went through the door handle, shattering the lock and making it completely useless. You were too shocked to try running again. It found you.
The doppelganger shoved you against the door, swinging it open and causing you to fall forward inside of your home. You hit the floor with a soft but swift thud. “I see the way you look at him.” Its voice was laced with venom—anger but left more to be desired. It was playing with you awfully long for a creature that was trying to kill you.
“But you’d never look at me that way…”
The Fake Francis entered the apartment making sure to secure the door behind it so that you couldn’t run anymore. You cried and whimpered as it took its sweet time pushing your bookcase in front of the door so no one would intervene with what was supposed to happen next.
“I-I don’t know what you’re—” You couldn’t even finish your sentence as it smashed its lips into yours. Its tongue was like that of a serpent, slipping its way into your mouth. You tried to push it away but any attempts just resulted in your lips connecting once more. It was too strong. 
You were terrified but it passed so much for the real Francis.
“Tell me you don’t like it ‘n I’ll stop.” It whispered into your mouth before it French kissed you once more. You kissed it back, unable to resist his appearance any longer. When it pulled away, a string of saliva connected between both of your mouths. It’s warm breath hits the surface of your face, eyes full of lust and horror.
It’s soft lips attached themselves to your neck, biting and sucking until your skin slowly began turning red. “Mmm.” It hummed deeply, traveling lower and lower until it reached the cavern between your breasts. “You’re sensitive here, aren’t you?” It placed kisses in the valley of your chest, waiting for a reply. You were unable to form words at this point. It wanted to ravage you and steal your innocence. It took your idleness as consent, continuing on with satisfying itself and by extension, satisfying you.
It took the delicate hand you had been using to drive a wedge between the both of you. You thought that at this point it was going to break your arm! You squeezed your eyes shut, ready to endure the pain but…it didn’t. You felt the heated bulge beneath it’s bloodied white trousers. It throbbed. 
That’s when it finally clicked for you. It wasn’t playing with you like you were food. It wasn’t trying to taste you and pick it’s teeth with your bones. It wanted to be with you. To breed you.
“I—ah~♡!” You bit down on your lip to contain the pretty moans that left your mouth. Your bra was removed, fully exposing your breasts. Its tongue touched the tip of your nipple and its mouth enveloped over your entire areola. It licked and sucked on the bud until it was nice and hard. The other hand was subtly slipped under your dress.
It took barely any strength at all to rip the fabric, showing how inappropriately wet you’d become from this activity. It craved the essence that was oozing from your tiny cunt.
At the feeling of the cold wind, you brought your legs together just to have them forced apart again. The creature made you feel so small and vulnerable. It used force when it felt necessary but overall, it was….soft. Licking, kissing, biting but no drawing blood, taste, loving.
It salivated at your legs, raising one and nuzzling the side of its face into the smooth skin. “So…gorgeous.” It pulled you forward. “When I saw you, I knew I wanted you.”
“Y-You did…?” You squeaked. It’s touch sent goosebumps from your limp to the rest of your body. “Two years I’ve been watching you. It was so damn annoying seeing you talk to that piece of meat.”
Piece of meat?
“I don’t know who you mean.” You shied away from the perfect creature. Could it mean…
“F-Francis?” You knitted your eyes together in confusion.
“Yes—HIM!” The doppelgänger dropped your leg and pulled you by your thighs to its crotch. “…I could never decide what skin would be the best to pursue you in. But then I’d see the way you look at him.” Pre-cum was beginning to show from its member inside. You could feel the wet fabric on the lips of your hot cunt. “So, I became him…but better.”
You heard the subtle unzipping sound of the pants and it took out its thick cock. It was larger than normal and didn't look like the standard male genitalia. You’d need to use both hands to hold it.
There was no denying this thing could perfectly replicate a human man. Before you could even react, the big “man” picked you up by your hair.
“Get on your knees.” He commanded and you felt obligated to obey him. You’ve never been in a situation where you were being held up by a man like this.
“I’m gonna split you in half with this cock.” He pushed its large tip against your cheek, straining it with warm cum. “Open your mouth.”
Your lips parted for a moment but you hesitated. There was no way that whole thing could fit into your mouth. Your eyes traveled up to his for guidance. He only stared down at you with hard, tired eyes. The corner of his mouth tugged upward into a smirk.
“I said…open your mouth.”
He spoke through his teeth as if it were a threat. You were reluctant but tried to ease it in. You kissed his tip, causing him to grunt and tighten his fist around your hair. “Open.” He growled, yanking your head back. His cock was so close to your face that you could truly take in its side. It was nearly the length of your skull. 
You opened your mouth out of fear and he shoved it inside. He was kind enough to let you get used to it in your throat by going soft and slow…or maybe he was just distracted by the imprint showing on your throat. 
You grabbed his hips to keep yourself from falling backward. Even a bit of force made you lose your balance. “Good girl.” He sighed, relaxing into you, pushing the limits by pushing it deeper. Your choking and gagging only made him feel pleasure.
“You struggling with my dick in your mouth is so hot.” You heard him mutter under his breath. Your eyes began to water from the choking, causing tears to carry mascara down your cheeks.
“Keep sucking.” He fucked into your throat and gentle too. “I’m close.”
 Both of his hands found themselves on the back of your head. He sped up his pace until a loud groan emitted from his chest and a mysterious liquid found its way down your throat.
The doppelgänger let go of your hair. You fell back on your bottom and he crouched down. “Hey.” He called, grabbed both sides of your face with one hand. He squeezed your cheeks together. “Swallow.”
You swallowed what was left and once he knew it was in your belly, his lips crashed into yours. His tongue wormed its way into your mouth and explored every cavern.
You felt yourself get lifted again but this time to your feet. He walked you over to your dining table and shoved you into it. “Bend over.”
You didn’t really get a choice. When you tried to stand, he forced you down to the table with his hand on the back of your head. 
You expected him to say something, but he stayed silent. You felt him explore your backside from your hips to your exposed ass. The wind was so cold but his hands were so warm.
He chuckled darkly, spreading your ass cheeks and sticking his shaft in between. His dick was so much bigger than you that you would definitely have a belly bulge because of it. He wanted to experience it for himself.
You waited with silent anticipation for him what he would do next. You weren’t too sexually active anymore because you wanted to reserve that for the real Francis, if you ever got the chance with him, so you were really nervous about having something so big inside.
“Uah!” You squeaked, feeling a wet, warm muscle enter the deepest part of your cunt. It was his tongue!
You whipped your head around to see that his face was buried in you from behind. “Mmm.” You heard him hum vibrations into you. He consumed all of your juices as they came out. It must’ve tasted so good coming from a pretty human like you.
With every moan and whimper that left your mouth, it made his dick grow harder and harder. He didn’t stop until you had creamed all over his tongue. So much came out that it got all over his face too.
“I-Is that it? Is that what you want…?” You asked, but you were only ignored.
“Pick a hole.”
“Wh-wha—“
“Pick a hole, or I will.”
Pick…a hole…?
His large thumb massaged your asshole while his knuckles, now sleek with your cream, was stimulating your pussy.
“Um…I—“ 
“Both it is!”
Your eyes widened. “Wait, what?!”
You felt his thumb sink deep into your ass while he struggled to get his large tip into your pussy. “Damn you’re fucking tight.” He growled through his teeth. His free hand grabbed your ass, fingers sinking in so deep they’d leave marks. 
“W-Wait, you have to go slow!” You cried, face heating up from being touched in such filthy ways. “I am.” He grumbled, pushing the limits of your vagina by forcing himself inside. Despite going at the pace of a snail, the pain of trying to fit himself inside didn’t decrease at all. You helplessly clawed at the table beneath you. It didn’t matter how wet you were. He was too big.
It took a moment but he was able to get it. It slipped in with much ease on his end but the difference inside made you gasp so hard you needed to cover your mouth.
The doppelgänger began thrusting without warning, quickly overstimulating you. You could feel him in your stomach too. You reach back to push him off of you but he just grabbed your arm and kept it. There wasn’t much you could do to get someone this big off of you. You would only take it.
“P-Please…I can’t take it!” You gapped out, drool escaped your mouth as you tried to form words. He was fucking you so hard you couldn’t even think. All that could be heard around the room was the lewd slapping of his filled balls against the bottom of your pussy. 
“Beg for it then. Say you love me.” His breath hitched. “Say you want me and I’ll let you go.”
“I—“ Slap! 
You tried to speak. “I wa—“ Slap!
It seemed that when you tried to comply with him, he’d remove the hand playing with your asshole to leave a rough, skin-reddening slap on your ass. Your struggling amused him. He couldn’t help but smile.
The doppelgänger has been stalking you for so long. It was hard getting into your apartment normally because of the last doorman but he couldn’t resist you once you were sitting at that desk.
“What’s wrong?” He teased, his deep voice going soft. “My dick isn’t in your mouth anymore…so what’s the issue?” He chuckled. “Beg.”
“I want you!” You blurted out.
“You…want me? Say there’s no one else. Say you love me!” It was like music to his ears, really. It was helping him reach his climax.
“I…I love you—“
“FUCK!”
Your belly bulge quickly became bigger as his cum painted your walls and womb. Even with his dick growing more flaccid, he continued to fuck his cum into you so that you both knew who you belonged to now. Tears spilled out of your eyes as you squirted onto his cock, mixing your juices together.
“I love you too, Princess. More than you could ever imagine—“ Before he could finish, his ears perked up almost like an animal. His attention turned towards your door that he had destroyed before. “Here they come.” He muttered, putting his member back into his pants.
You weakly lifted yourself from the table. Your hand placed itself tight below your navel. It was so sore now. “Who’s coming…? What are you talking about…?”
The doppelgänger ignored you, its horns flesh and bones began contorting and changing color. Its physique turned from that of a huge masculine man to the familiar form of that of a D.D.D. member. Yellow suit and all. 
It ran to the door, opening it, and sticking its head out. “I found her, she's in here!” Its voice changed to a generic man as well. Not at all like the deep gruff from before.
Your legs felt like jelly, you fell to the ground as soon as you were able to stand. They were numb from the pleasure, leaving you unable to walk.
What happened next went by as a blur. The D.D.D. Reinforcement Team took you to a hospital where you were taken care of and given rape kit. You were unable to refuse it once the forensics team found semen at the scene. In order to maintain faith in the D.D.D., your assault was largely covered up but only those who were in the apartment that day knew about it.
After the commotion of filing our paperwork and giving information, you were sent home. You didn’t sustain any life threatening injuries but you were asked to come in periodically to see how your body would react to having the semen of a doppelgänger inside of you…so now you were a bit of a test subject to them. You quit the job after that but you were quickly replaced by a new guy. 
You hadn’t seen the doppelgänger the entire time. Or at least, you thought you didn’t. You wanted to process the situation but you were more confused as to why it craved so much validation from you. It wanted you to say you loved it. It wanted you to say that you wanted it. It said that it’s been waiting two years to be this close to you. It looked like Francis.
You had just arrived back home. Carpenters quickly replaced your door before you got home and you decided to continue life as usual by making dinner for yourself. Your heart still aches from the fear you felt when you thought you were going to die. And so did your vagina. It didn’t bleed, thank god, but it was sore to the touch from how big that monster was.
“Man, I thought you’d never come back.”
You were alone in your kitchen when a voice emitted from behind you. The familiarity in the voice made your heart drop. You quickly turned around to see the doppelgänger from before, masquerading as Francis again.
“What are you doing here? What do you—“
“Shh, princess.” He strided through your small kitchen, stepping so close to you that you were against the counter with nowhere else to go. You placed your hands on his chest, giving you the illusion that you could push him away. He grabbed your arm by the wrist before kissing the inside of your palm. He kissed your fingers and then the back of your hand before making you cup his cheek, which he nuzzled into lovingly.
You wanted to rip your hand away but his grip was so strong. You blushed. Was it wrong to admit that he…it, was attractive? 
“Why didn’t you kill me and eat me? Why did you do that to me?” You questioned meekly. His eyes were closed, enjoying your warm touch with a smile before they opened. His eyes were like hunter's eyes. “Because I love you.” He replied flatly. 
“I don’t know what that means…” 
You opened your mouth to speak again but you were cut off by a knock at your door. 
“I’ll get it.” The doppelgänger quickly said and in a mere second, it shapeshifted to turn into…you. It was able to mimic you in all your glory, including the hickeys, bites and bruises from your attack.
“No!” You blurted out. “Don’t do that.”
The doppelgänger allowed you to move away from it and your arm fell to your side. You went to get the door but you made sure to check who it was before opening.
It was Francis!
“It’s him!” You hurried to your bedroom to find your cardigan to cover your tattered clothes before answering the door.
“Francis? What brings you here?” You forced a smile but your eyes looked just as tired as his. You couldn’t hide anything from him.
“I heard what happened. ‘m so glad you’re okay.” Francis sighed, quickly invading your personal space. He hugged you to his chest. You blinked “F-Francis…?”
“I felt all torn up when I thought you died but when I heard that you were just fine, I just had to come see you myself.” Your stomach burned with delight. Francis was worried about you?
Francis let go of you and you pulled away. His face was red like he was blushing and you couldn’t help but blush too. Your lips curled into a smile. “W-Well, I’m a lot tougher than I look.”
He wanted to smile back but he couldn’t. He saw the marks on your skin. You were hurt. “I know you are.” He masked his sadness with a weak smile. He rested his hand on your head and ruffled it a bit.
It would probably be inappropriate for him to admit that he’s actually had feelings for you all this time, so he’d save it for another day. Hearing the news about the doppelgänger through gossip during his job of going door to door made him realize he could lose you at any moment. But today, he settled with placing a kiss at the crown of your head. “Stay safe. I’ll check on you again later.”
For a moment, everything in your life went still. Even after he had walked away and left you standing there, it didn’t feel real. This more or less confirmed he had a crush on you as well. No man just does that and doesn’t see you as more than just a neighbor.
Your heart fluttered as you came back to reality. You slipped back inside of your home. You need to get cleaned up! You had to bathe and find something suitable just in case Francis wanted to come inside upon your next meeting.
But then….
“You look awfully happy.”
The doppelgänger was still here. You gulped, seeing his much bigger form. He grabbed the sides of your face with his hand again. He didn’t bother crouching because of your size difference, leaving you standing on the tips of your toes.
You were too shocked to try defending yourself, so he continued. “I saw everything so don’t even try to lie. That bastard is so lucky that I have to lay low until the D.D.D. gets their claws out of you or else I would’ve…”
“Don’t hurt him!” You tried to beat and punch his arm to get him off but he didn’t budge. “Why not?!”
“Because…I’ll be sad. And you don’t want me to be sad, do you?” Your voice was unlabeled and lacked confidence. It was a Hail Mary but you’d do anything to prevent Francis from getting hurt.
“Shit.” The doppelgänger let go of you, setting you back on your feet. It seemed…conflicted. He paced around your living room briefly. It had a soft spot for you but you could tell it has trouble processing emotions like a person. It was just imitating a person to get what it wanted.
“You don’t want him. You just wanna marry a guy. I’ll marry you.” 
You shook your head. “No. Y-You can’t. You’re not him.”
“Of course I am.” His expression became mischievous. A smirk settled on his handsome face. “You can even call me Francis in bed if it fancies you.” 
You felt your stomach do a flip!
“No! I’m not calling you that. Even though you look just like him…wh-what do I call you anyway…?” You retreated inward, hugging yourself and looking quite nervous as if the situation was beginning to dawn on you. You were currently desired by one of the most dangerous beings in the world.
“Francis.”
“Stop! I’m never using that name for you.” You got angry enough to shove him but he didn’t move an inch. You quickly realized that you shouldn’t push too hard or else it might change its mind and kill you. 
“Mmm….” You pursed your lips, avoiding eye contact with the monster. “Wh-What about Franz? Is that good enough for you…?”
Franz, huh?
“Perfect.”
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Tagged Folks: @z3r0art @chilifrylizard2
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nervoussagittarius · 2 days
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hey, let’s not be alone tonight
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matt sturniolo x reader
summary: matt introduces his girlfriend to the world through a video on his personal channel, request
warnings: extreme fluff, maybe some swearing who knows lol
matt sat in the driver seat of his car looking down at his lap. his face displayed a slightly distraught look as he glanced up into the camera.
“hi guys welcome backs to my personal channel…god i hate filming by myself.” he said with a sigh.
his gloomy look soon brightened into a smile as he stated “luckily i’m alone tonight” and turned the camera hoping both of you were in frame. you simultaneously laughed at his little bit before realizing that the camera was in fact very much crooked.
“hey matt,” you said pointing to the lens.
“oh fuck, let me fix it. hang on guys” he said holding a hand up to the camera in a “wait” motion .
matt quickly got out of the car making his way around to the front. he conducted you on which way to move the camera so both of you were evenly in the frame.
you tried to concentrate at the task at hand, but everytime you looked at matt for direction he made a funny face back at you, making you laugh.
“is that good? i can’t tell” you said calling to matt. he sent you a thumbs up in response, and made his way back to his seat.
matt and you were in sync as you looked at each other, then to the camera, and then back to each other.
“you ready?” he questioned reaching down to hold your hand over the center console.
“absolutely” you replied.
“guys, you were all wrong…. i’m coming clean and telling you that i’m still as single as i’ve ever been” matt said with a very serious look on his face.
“what?” you exclaimed with a slight giggle, looking at matt. he tried not to break character, but didn’t last very long as you poked his cheek getting him to smile.
“i’m just kidding,” he said “this is my girlfriend y/n. all of you have been speculating so we thought it was time to announce it.”
”you can talk you know” he chuckled softly squeezing your hand.
“i know, i just didn’t want to cut you off” you whispered, looking into his blue eyes as they softened at your statement.
“hi guys, i’m y/n” you finally repeat waving at the camera.
matt couldn’t take his eyes off of you. you looked so perfect sitting under the lights of his car. he didn’t want to pressure you into having to succumb to parts of his lifestyle, but your willingness to participate in a video with him made him love you even more.
matt was very private with his personal business. he didn’t like people speculating or starting rumors. for the longest time he didn’t want to expose you to the hate that came from his job, but he wanted nothing more then to be able to show you off to the world. you were everything to him and he wanted to celebrate that.
“matt..” you said softly, grabbing his attention. “do you want to tell them what we’re doing today?”
“oh yeah, so i was gonna make an instagram story asking you guys to ask us questions, but i couldn’t figure out how to do it, and then i realized it would spoil the suprise. so nick and chris wrote us a couple questions that they figured you’d want us to answer.”
you released your hand from matt’s with a giggle at his statement, picking up your drink. this caught his attention as he quickly grabbed your drink from you, putting it in your other hand, and grasped the left one back in his.
this made you give him a “really?” look but he just responded with a shrug and a brief kiss to your cheek.
“alrighty” he said dragging out the y. “we’re gonna start out simple and take turns answering questions. y/n is going to go first with the question ‘how did we meet?’”
you laughed, “so matt and i actually have different views on how me met, but nick cleared it up for us because he has a better memory of the situation.” matt jokingly rolled his eyes and he looked at you intently.
“i know that we originally met at a vintage thrift store when i had complimented nick on his shirt. i was wearing this vintage leather jacket and he loved it, so he wanted to show matt and chris. that’s actually when we met, but matt claims he wasn’t there for that, so to him we met at a small gathering one of our mutual friends had for their birthday.”
“i promise i was not there when you first met nick and chris”
“how did they get to that vintage store then matt? you drive them everywhere.” you broke out in laughter at the dumbfounded look on his face.
“okay you may have a point, but i’m still sticking to my original story.” he said passing you the phone to ask the next question.
“okay baby, whatever you say.” you patted his cheek as he once again rolled his eyes at you lovingly.
“how long have we been together?” you asked.
he pretended to think for a second before saying “seven months. literally the best days of my fucking life.”
“really?” you said looking up at him with a small smile on your face.
“of course. i love being with you”
you guys stared at eachother for a few seconds before you cleared your throat looking away with a slight blush on your face.
“okay, next question.” you got out quickly, not being able to make eye contact with matt.
you and matt have been together for a decent amount of time, yet he still manages to suprise you and make you nervous daily. he thinks it’s cute, but you find it a little frustrating. he loves seeing how he can still make you blush just by looking at you. it boosts his ego and tells him he’s doing something right.
“how do you manage a healthy relationship? i feel like nick and chris are asking this questions for themselves because neither of them can stay in a relationship” matt laughed.
“i think it’s all about how you communicate and developing a flow that will bind both of your lives without disrupting the previous routine.” you said through giggles.
“it’s definitely important to make time for each other, but you also have to make time for yourself. especially with matt’s job being very time consuming. we’ve done a lot of trial and error to figure out what’s best for us and our relationship. matt and i also have a rule that we can’t go to sleep mad at each other so it kinda forces us to figure our shit out.”
“i agree.” matt says looking at the camera giving them a slight head tilt. he leaned his head back on his seat turning to look at you.
“okay last question for the night. would we ever start a channel together?”
“do you want to answer this together?” matt asks. you nod.
“on three” you reply.
three counts are made before you both answer. “fuck no” “absolutely not”
the serious faces you’re both making are soon broken as you fall into eachother laughing. a few seconds pass before matt lifts his head first placing a kiss to your hair.
“listen, we’re not saying that y/n will never appear in a video again, but neither of us want the hassle or the constant publication of our relationship on the internet”
“yeah, we’re definitely not one of those couples.” you say with a smile, still leaning your head on matt’s shoulder.
matt finally released your hand, grabbing the camera off the dash. you took this time to take a sip of your drink as matt placed the focus on you.
“any last words for the viewers?”
“we love you all and i hope you’re prepared for matt’s constant talk about me, because nick and chris complain about it all the time.”
you grabbed the camera pointing it at matt.
“and what are your last words mr. matthew sturniolo?”
he looked over the camera to you and then back to the lens.
“let’s kiss the camera, babe” he said.
you both leaned forward to place a short peck on the camera lens. pulling back, you both laughed at the fog and matt wiped the lens clean as he ended the video.
“do you think they’ll like it?” you asked softly.
“i think they’ll love it because you’re perfect, and funny, and beautiful, and i love you.” matt rambled.
“i love you too, matt,” you smiled.
you took his hand, once again, as he started the short drive back to his house.
comments:
i’ve never seen two people more perfect for eachother
the fact that matt wouldn’t let go of her hand the entire time did something to me
i don’t blame y/n. i too would get nervous if i was in the presence of matt sturniolo
nick and chris being the biggest supporters of their relationship and making them questions is so cute.
i can’t wait to see all of the posts matt makes about y/n now
crying at how adorable they are
an: i’m in love with this one and them. i hope y’all enjoyed it as well🤍🤍
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scientia-rex · 3 days
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A lot of younger people have no idea what aging actually looks and feels like, and the reasons behind it. That ignorance is so dangerous. If you don’t want to “be old,” you aren’t talking about a number of years. I have patients in their late 80s who could still handily beat me in a race—one couple still runs marathons together, in their late 80s—and I lost someone who was in her early 60s to COPD last year. What you want is not youth, it is health.
If you want to still be able to enjoy doing things in your 60s and 70s and 80s and even 90s, what you want to do, right now, is quit smoking, get some activity on a regular basis (a couple of walks a week is WAY better for you than nothing; increasing from 1 hour a day of cardio to 1.5 will buy you very little), and eat some plants. That’s it. No magic to it. No secret weird tricks. Don’t poison yourself, move around so your body doesn’t forget how, and eat plants.
If you have trouble moving around now because of mobility limitations, bad news: you still need to move around, not because it’s immoral not to, but because that’s still the best advice we have. I highly recommend looking up the Sit and Be Fit series; it is freely available and has exercises that can be done in a chair, which are suitable for people with limited mobility or poor balance. POTS sufferers, I’m looking at you.
If you have trouble eating plants because of dietary issues (they cause gas, etc.) or just because they’re bitter (super taster with texture issues here!), bad news. You still want to find a way to get some plants into your body on a regular basis. I know. It sucks. The only way I can do it is restaurants—they can make salads taste like food. I can also tolerate some bagged salads. On bad weeks, the OCD with contamination focus gets so bad I just can’t. However, canned beans always seem “safe,” and they taste a bit like candy, so they’re a good fallback.
If you smoke and you have tried quitting a million times and you’re just not ready to, bad news. You still need to quit. Your body needs you to try and keep trying. Your brain needs it, too. Damaging small blood vessels racks up cumulative damage over time that your body can start trying to reverse as soon as you quit. I know it’s insanely, absurdly addictive. You still need to.
You cannot rules lawyer your way past your body’s basic needs. It needs food, sleep, activity, and the absence of poison. Those are both small things and big asks. You cannot sustain a routine based on punishment, so don’t punish your body. Find ways to include these things that are enjoyable and rewarding instead. Experiment. There is no reason not to experiment—you don’t have to know instantly what’s going to work for you and what won’t, you just need to be willing to try things and make changes when things aren’t working for you.
You will still age. Your body will stop making collagen and elastin. Tissues you can see and tissues you can’t see will both sag. Cushioning tissues under your skin will get thinner. You’ll bruise more easily. Skin will tear more easily. Accumulated sun damage will start to show more and more. Joints will begin to show arthritis. Tendons and ligaments will get weaker and get injured more easily, as will muscles. Bones will lose mass and get easier to break. You’ll get tired more easily.
But you know what makes the difference between being dead, or as good as, in your 60s vs your 90s? Activity, plants, and quitting smoking. And don’t do meth. Saw a 58-year-old guy this week who is going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t quit whatever stimulant he’s on. I pretended to believe it was just the cigarettes, and maybe it is, but meth and cocaine will kill you quicker. Stop poisoning yourself.
Baby steps; take it one step at a time; you don’t need to have everything figured out right now. But you do need to be working on figuring things out.
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miley1442111 · 3 days
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fix it together- a.hotchner
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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :) thank you guys for all the love on the first part of this!!!!
please don't read if you have emetophobia!!!!
summary: aaron said some horrible things. He's trying to fix it, right?
pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader
warnings: mad angst, aaron is so mean, reader believes she is a bad mother, heartbreak, feelings of disappointment, reader is pregnant, talks of pregnancy, talks of vomiting and morning sickness, happy ending :)
part 1- fix it.
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Aaron
The last few weeks had been… tense. Going back to work was fine and we still acted like a couple, don’t get me wrong. Yet, everything felt disgustingly different. The gifts hadn’t been working. The dates hadn’t been working. Every second of my days were spent thinking over what I’d said on that horrible night. Did I ask for an annulment? What was I thinking? I love you more than anything, I want you forever. Since the first date I’d known you were my girl, my forever girl. Every night I’ve been trying to make it clear to you that I want you. That I think you’re a good mother. Even the nights you'd stayed at Penelope's.
After Jack's birthday, you'd gone to Penelope's for 3 nights, I only saw you during the day at work, and even then you didn't look at me, let alone speak to me. You came home because you missed Jack.
Since then, you’ve been distant, focusing on work, or Jack more often than not. So I decided something. 
I made all the distractions go away. Jack went off to his cousin's house, and I pulled us out of work for a full week, much to Strauss’s annoyance. Only thing is that I hadn’t told you. 
Well, this better work. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Honey?” I cleared my throat, still groggy from waking up a few minutes prior. You weren’t in bed, you’d recently stopped our regular 5 minutes of hazy cuddling as we both wake up. My third favourite part of the day. My second favourite being when you come to me at 2:07pm everyday at work and give me a kiss, my first favourite being the kiss and hug you give me at the end of the day, just after tucking Jack in. All three had stopped in recent weeks.  
“Yeah?” You called from the bathroom, doing your regular morning routine. 
“I called us out of work,” I yawned and heard your quickened footsteps, then you appeared in front of me. You looked so beautiful, as always. A random and oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts that left little to the imagination. I started to sweat just thinking about it. 
“What? Why?! We have people who need our help, we have cases-” You started rambling as I got up and cupped your face, kissing you. 
“Because I need you. I need you to be you again,” I whispered against your lips, hoping this would work. “So we’re going to have a nice few days, yeah? Today we have your appointment and we’ll have another talk. Then we can just relax for the rest of the week.”
“The week?” you stressed and I rolled my eyes, kissing you again. Your lips were so perfect. You’d brushed your teeth, not that I mind your morning breath. Not that I mind anything about you. 
“Please,” I was begging and I wasn’t even ashamed. “Please honey,” I wrapped my hands around your waist, trying to persuade you. 
“Aaron-”
“Don’t call me Aaron,” You’d stopped calling me the usual ‘baby’ or ‘darling’, or my favourite ‘love’. “Please. I want to be normal again. I don’t want this distance, I adore you more than anything.”
I could tell you felt conflicted. I hurt you. I know I did. 
“Aaron,” another stab to my heart. “Fine, we’ll take this week off, and we can… talk.”
“Thank you my love,” I smile, pressing kisses along your exposed collarbone. You chuckled. I’d missed your laughter. I’d missed you.
“Ok baby, come on, I need to shower,” you giggled against me and I could feel my heart mending. Baby. I couldn’t stop the grin on my lips. I let go of you, but not before kissing you again. My perfect wife. 
“Can I join?” I smirked, and you scoffed. 
“Don’t push your luck Hotchner,” You chuckled. This was it. This is what it used to be. Flirty, loving, and fun. Before I ruined everything. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You
Forgiving Aaron was the easy part. Worrying if every parenting decision was the right one, was pure agony. 
Is it wrong to say that like that? Should I have done this a different way? Was that right?
And your brain’s personal favourite: 
What would Haley have done? 
You were beating yourself up about it all for the past few weeks. You felt you had ruined Jack’s birthday with your own insecurities, since he’d asked if you were alright the day after.
Telling Jack you were pregnant was a highlight from the past few weeks. He was ecstatic to find out he’d be getting a little sibling. He already wanted to meet them and he understood that there would be times where either of you wouldn’t be able to play with him when his sibling arrived. 
Aaron had been grovelling to the highest degree. Flowers once a week, date nights, house chores, taking paperwork from you so you don’t need to do it, getting any and all pregnancy cravings, and helping you deal with all your morning sickness and migraines. 
It was maddening. You were going to go insane if you weren’t careful. 
Yet, you felt like every second of every day was spent thinking about your parenting choices and just wondering if having another baby was even a good idea. Would your new child even like you? Would this ruin your relationship with Jack? What was going to happen when they grow up? Did Aaron really think your parenting is terrible? 
Ok, so maybe you haven’t forgiven him just yet. Or at all. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You lay back in bed, a book in hand as Aaron pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. You stared at the words on the page, trying to make sense of them when your brain was so clouded. Your levels of anxiety had risen greatly, which you both knew was not good for your baby. Aaron had been trying to lift some of the stress off your shoulders with his constant doting, but you knew that the stress was Aaron. From the moment you woke up to the minute you fell asleep, you felt like you were putting up a show. Being the perfect wife, perfect (probably shitty, you thought anyway) mother, perfect agent. It was exhausting. You wanted to go back to before, back to when you didn’t have to pretend everything was alright. 
You pushed him off you and lay on your side, a regular occurrence. Aaron felt dejected. He’d hurt you so badly, and he didn’t know what to do to fix it. 
“Baby?” he spoke into the room. 
“Yes Aaron?” You answered. 
“Do you still love me?” He asked in a small voice. He felt raw and full of emotion. Honestly, he was terrified of the answer. 
“Do I still love you?” You scoffed. “I think I should be the one asking that. You were the one mentioning getting an annulment.”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that… I was just-” He tried but you shot out of bed, staring at him with an anger in your eyes he could only describe as animalistic. 
“ 'You just' what Aaron? What?!” You squealed, all the emotions that you’d let build up, coming out at once. “I’ve been trying to be a good wife, to be a good mother for the past 4 fucking years Aaron. I have been that for you, I have been that for you and Jack, and I’m so happy to do it because I love the both of you more than anything! And all I ask in return is that you love and respect me! That is what you promised me on your wedding day! You didn’t fucking do that. You threw our marriage under the bus and compared me to your ex wife, the second you got slightly stressed. I’m sure Haley did a much better job than me Aaron, I’m sure she did! But I’m here Aaron. I love you. I love Jack. I have dedicated my life to the two of you, to our family! And now I feel like I’ve made a mistake in doing that, because the second you get overwhelmed, I’m in the first person that gets thrown under the bus?! To get reduced to nothing by you?! That’s not fucking fair Aaron, It’s not fair! And the worst part is that I fucking forgave you weeks ago, but I can’t forgive myself! I feel like such a shit mother every single day! I feel like I’m failing everyday, and that our baby will fucking hate me because it’ll somehow know that I’m the second choice! That it’ll know you’d rather be with someone who’s dead! So don’t come to me asking stupid fucking questions like that when you know the fucking answer Aaron. You don’t need to humiliate me more than you already have.”
You walked out of your shared bathroom, down the stairs into the living room, and sobbed your eyes out. 
Aaron sat up in the bed, thankful that Jack wasn’t home today, but devastated by your words, and his actions. Why had he even brought up an annulment? 
He couldn’t even begin to dissect the feelings he had when the bile in his throat suddenly came on and he had to run to the bathroom, and spill it into the toilet. Your words hit him like a knife, throwing his own words back in his face in the most disgusting way to do it, directed at you. You were an amazing mother, an amazing wife. And yet, you thought you were worthless. He had made you feel worthless. He felt terrible. He didn’t want Haley. Yes, he’d loved her for a long time, yes their divorce was heartbreaking. But he loved you now, and he didn’t ever want to take that for granted. He’d gotten two people who loved him unconditionally, two people who loved him enough to have a child with him, two people that would put themselves in harm’s way for him. 
And he fucked it up. Twice. 
He followed you downstairs, standing in the doorway as you sobbed into the couch cushions, then walked over and put a hand on your back. You didn’t push him off, that must be a good sign, right? He moved you to sit on his lap, your head in his shoulder as he calmed you down.
“I’m so sorry Y/n. I was awful to you. I don’t want an annulment, I never want an annulment. I know it sounds bad but I was just so used to Haley hanging a divorce over my head for so long, it just came out. You are who I want, who I would choose, every single time. You are a good mother. You’re going to be a good mother. I’m so sorry I ever made you doubt yourself. That I ever made you doubt me. I never want to hurt you like this again. This is the worst thing I’ve ever done, I’m so sorry,” he whispered against your skin. “I’m so sorry.”
You let out a half chuckle- half sob and pulled away. “Aaron, I need you to swear to me that you will never fucking bring up us breaking up again, unless you actually mean it.”
“I swear.”
“And I need you to promise me that you’ll work on stopping all the reactive bullshit we’ve been doing,” You sighed.
“I promise.” 
“Then, I think we’ll be ok,” You smiled softly and kissed his cheek, settling your head back against his neck. 
“So we’re ok again?” He asked hopefully. 
“Not yet, no,” You stated and his hope vanished. 
“Honey-”
“We will be, soon.” 
He smiled again. You were his, always. Just as he was yours, always. Anything, you could get through. 
Together.
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criminal minds masterlist :)
people that asked to be tagged: @michasia24 @pear-1206 @randomrosie01 @tonystankhere
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frostyhelltime · 3 days
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I Said Don't Touch My Hair
Basically someone fucks with curly haired GN!Reader's hair and promptly finds out.
Characters Listed: Alastor, Vox, Lucifer.
Warnings: Violence, but it has Vox and Alastor being pissed off, so what did we expect?
Author's Note: I have really curly hair, 3A or 3B typically. And it frustrates me to no end when people just walk up to me and start touching my hair without even asking. Especially if I spent a lot of time making my hair look extra nice that day. So I got to thinking I wonder what the guys would do if someone approached their lover and did something like that?
If anyone wants me to do this for additional characters let me know. I just thought I would start with these three.
Also hope you like the graphics! I made them myself!
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Alastor
It's a distinct possibility this person doesn't even get to lay a hand on you, actually. Ever cognizant and aware, especially when it comes to possible threats to you, he likely has this person on his radar before you do. He is the type of person that's typically five steps ahead of everyone else, and he prides himself on it.
It's during a pleasant stroll on the way to Cannibal Town to have tea and coffee with Rosie that some fool accosts you.
Rosie has been pestering him for the better part of a month to introduce his little paramour and he has finally given in because you were just as excited to meet one of his friends.
In fact you had been so excited you made sure to put extra care into your curls today, wanting to impress. He knew from you only partially jokingly berating Angel when he played with your hair that you didn't like it mussed up when you actually put serious effort into their appearance.
But he can't find it in himself to be annoyed or anything of the sort at the people he passes by when he sees your bright smile as you walk, arm in arm, together. He's also smiling as well, of course, but looking at you the smile turns more soft and genuine for a split second, a chuckle on the tip of his tongue about some joke you made when he sees some stranger's hand reaching for your curls.
Although his smile remains ever present, the scrunch of his nose and furrowing of his brow belay his true feelings.
"Ah ah ah. Don't you know it's improper to touch someone without their permission?" His voice rings out with a thicker layer of static, freezing the demon who stupidly hadn't even realized exactly whose arm you were on. He's annoyed at the way his voice takes on an extra edge of static as you turn around to face the poor soul who probably wasn't much longer for his world. He doesn't like that it could be apparent he's so annoyed. Oh well.
"How repulsive." He mocks, delighting in the clear terror they were feeling as they back up and away from you, as if that will save them.
"Don't worry though, my good fellow. It's a mistake I'll be sure you don't make twice. Someone has to teach you some manners, after all." His voice drops low, letting his form shift taller, antlers elongating and becoming more angular, neck craning forward and stretching to reach the man who was already attempting to run away, maliciously excited grin growing closer and closer.
You release his arm, knowing he'll be back once he's done. You also know he would be even more upset if your clothes got ruined by the blood of this poor uneducated sinner who he plans to teach some manners, and goodness knows the last thing this demon needs is another reason for Alastor to be mad at them.
With a twist and a rip of his claws, once, and twice, the sinner finds themselves violently robbed of their hands and begins blubbering for forgiveness. Alastor blinks at the pathetic creature and brings the hands closer to his maw. He swallows the two offending hands without even a second thought, tilting his head to look at the sinner quivering in delightful fear as if pondering what to do with him next. He takes another step forward and is about to continue when he hears your voice ring out.
"Alastor dear, we're going to be late. I'm sure he's learned his lesson. We don't want to keep Rosie waiting, do we?"
"Ah you're right. We can't be late, it's so impolite. I'm afraid I won't get to continue your lesson." He sighs and then tuts at the sinner frozen in fear, who is still unsure if he's actually going to get to live or not.
Alastor's eyes shift from yours to his prey and his claws give one final rip through flesh as if to punctuate his 'lesson', pulling open the demon's chest with practiced ease before he retreats.
"I hope you found my lesson on etiquette quite educational." Alastor chuckles to the man good naturedly, as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place.
And with that he's rapidly returning to his normal form, his arm laced through yours again and he's continuing the conversation from before, mood brightening when you thank him and kiss his cheek for protecting you.
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Vox
Vox doesn't even see the person coming. No one other than you tends to exist in his peripheral when you're together.
He had been planning awhile, wanting to really wine and dine you for your anniversary. Remind you how good it is to be with him and all the wonderful perks that come with dating the CEO of VoxTek! Of course you knew, but he liked to spoil you and remind you how good he is to you all at the same time and an anniversary was the perfect excuse. Which is also why you're extra dolled up, curls perfectly coiffed and a backless outfit with a cutout in the shape of, a V, of course to entice him for the time you'll spend together...after dinner.
You're listening half mindlessly and half focused as he talks. There's something just nice and relaxing about his ecstatic chatter and it never failed to make you feel at ease.
He's currently talking about his latest idea for a new show that he thinks will be a hit as you two walk, his arm resting on the small of your back on your bare skin. A subtle but possessive claim to you.
A claim that one poor idiot either doesn't heed or doesn't see.
Either way their hand is reaching for you and snags on your curls almost immediately, causing you to jerk back and yelp in pain, frustration and annoyance evident on your face. Though it compares little to the immediate upset it causes Vox.
You think he didn't mean to snag it, only wanting to feel it, though it doesn't much matter now what his intent was.
The guy doesn't even look remorseful since he doesn't seem to even think it's a big deal until he realizes Vox seems upset as well and then he's apologizing, but apparently it doesn't seem sincere enough for Vox.
The tall man quickly steps forward, barely needing to take any steps at all before he snatches the man's hand with sheer brute force, his other hand beginning to gently untangle your hair and pulling it out of this idiot's grasp. You found it such a funny contrast between the grips of his two hands that if you weren't so pissed you would have laughed. As soon as the man is untangled from you, Vox has him picked up and slammed into a wall, electricity crackling from him as he does, errant sparks burning the man's skin without Vox even trying.
"Listen here you piece of shit, do you have any idea who you just fucked with?" His eyes narrow, electric sparks growing bigger and hotter as he speaks. The man just shakes his head no, trying to apologize to try and save his own skin.
"Now, you're going to apologize to my sweeatheart and you're going to mean it." He growls, dropping the man down in front of you as carelessly as he would a sack of trash. Even belly down the man tries to scramble to get up and run but Vox's foot is pressing down and keeping him pinned before he can succeed.
"I'm running out of patience..." He warns, narrowing his eyes, and then the man is changing gears and giving his best attempt at as remorseful of an apology as he can muster.
You are pissed but take pity on the man, not letting his torment get more drawn out. You're certain Vox won't just accept an apology so you might as well let him get on with it, and not extend the suffering.
You kindly accept his apology as you continue to fix your hair.
As soon as the acceptance leaves your mouth though, the man has such a large amount of electricity shot through him so violently that he's almost glowing, a smoldering corpse left in the dust of the smoke that had arisen from the electric burns, which Vox steps over to check on you, making sure you're okay.
You are of course fine, and assure him as much and it seems to placate him a bit that you aren't actually hurt.
He hurls one last insult of "Prick" before he leaves, his hand gently on the bare skin of your back once again, although he pulls you closer than before so you walk almost hip to hip. He would certainly pay more attention to look out for any other idiots that thought they could get handsy with you tonight.
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Lucifer
Another one who sees it before it's coming. He's always aware of everyone and everything when he's out with you. Dating the king of hell certainly had some perks! But it also came with a big fat target on your back. Although you never minded. You knew he was always looking out for you and wouldn't let anything happen.
It's part of why you never noticed anything amiss, you always felt so safe around him that you did sometimes let your guard down. It was easy when Lucifer was so sweet and goofy, even when he wasn't trying.
Needless to say, his hyper vigilance that most never noticed beneath the silly facade comes in handy now, his eyes catching someone approaching you from afar as he walks towards you but still too far away to hear anything they might be saying to you.
You were waiting for him, patiently as ever, to meet up for a date. You looked so beautiful, standing there and smiling down at your watch since you knew he would be there any minute now. It made him giddy just seeing you there.
But despite how far away he is, as soon as he sees them reaching for you, he's beside you in a flash, crossing the distance and using his cane to block their hand and push it away from you before it ever makes contact.
"Hey hey hey, what are you doing? That's so rude." He laughs, smiling at the man, who seems genuinely shocked to see the king of hell in front of him suddenly. He is smiling but there is an air of annoyance in his smile, as if he's trying to keep it casual and struggling. He's not unnecessarily violent, and usually just a casual signal that you were with him was enough to have people keep their distance. He's pretty confident the sinner will just turn and run.
"Lucifer!" Your happy voice chirps at him, only barely registering someone had been reaching for you, and clearly not even registering it as a threat now that he was here.
"Sorry I'm late. I...got distracted." He says sheepishly, shifting his attention from the sinner to you, especially since the sinner jumped back as if the cane had been made of pure fire, running off as quick as he can. But not before mumbling out a shakey "S-Sorry!" Seems Lucifer was right on that bet. He wouldn't have to worry about them bothering the two of you anymore, he's sure.
But you just smile and wrap an arm around his, clearly not the least bit annoyed by the interruption.
"...What does this new rubber ducky do?" You only halfway joke, having a pretty good idea what could have distracted him, and just as quickly his face changes from apologetic to excited. You smile seeing how his face changes; you were right on the money it seems.
"Shoots spikes like little pointy bullets!" He grins like a child excited about their latest toy, and he's guiding you now, away from this person who almost caused trouble if he hadn't been there in time.
"Ooo, after dinner can you show me? That sounds so cute!" You smile, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
"Although I know you don't need any spikes to save me, my king." You whisper to him teasingly, his face flushing just a little bit red at your playful use of his title as you headed to your date.
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rootbeerworshiper · 14 hours
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means something
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summery: your best friend stopped talking to you suddenly but you need one last chance at closure
warnings: angst lol
a/n: short and sweet (and sad) but i had fun writing it. alsoooo it’s based on the song but you don’t need the song playing in the background bc the pacing is different
love, sienna <3
you let out a defeated sigh as you focus your attention on a blank sheet of paper. it was supposed to be easy now, easier to let out your thoughts and begin to reconstruct your views on the situations that bring you sadness. at least that’s what your therapist advised you.
but instead you have nothing but small doodles of hearts on the top of the paper, serving as nothing but a sad reminder of your own life and how it lacks the love you always read about.
‘hopeless romantic’ used to feel like the wrong word, because there was a point where you had hope for a story like you see in the movies. a classic romantic comedy plot line was one you had always yearned for.
it’s silly how badly you’ve wanted it. you know you’re a complete person without it, you have strengths and aspirations and you cannot base your worth onto stupid boys.
but he wasn’t stupid. not in the slightest, regardless of what others said about him.
he was thoughtful and caring in ways no one else has been to you. never in your life have you seen someone so in touch with their own emotions at that level.
that’s because he’s special. to you and to so many other people.
April 17th, 2022
dear Matt,
i’m not entirely sure how to do this whole thing but it’s a step in healing that i’m more than inclined to take. part of me just really wants to get better so i have to do something to help me.
it might seem really random that i’m mailing you a letter, and trust me i understand how odd it is. but for once i needed you to hear me, and i can’t really send this message to a blocked number.
i can’t see anything in life without thinking of you. i saw a street sign the other day and i had to squint because, for a moment i thought i saw your last name plastered on the plastic. and i thought that it meant something. like the universe was trying to tell me something.
how pathetic is that? you know i can’t even have most of my favourite snacks anymore because they were our favourite snacks. the new foods you introduced me to when i forced you to watch ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ with me in middle school are practically forbidden from my apartment.
“this is the dumbest movie concept ever” Matt speaks, an annoyed undertone to his voice as he looks to me.
“you haven’t even watched it yet how can it be dumb? you know you might end up enjoying it if you watch it with an open mind” i reply, snuggling into his arm as my body rests on the soft couch cushion.
it definitely doesn’t take long for him to become invested.
“wait someone sent the letters?”
“why is she kissing him? doesn’t she like margo’s boyfriend?”
“damn they’re really just making out in a public hot tub”
the movie comes to a close, a cute song playing as the credits roll. “so, what did you think?”
“i think that i really like root beer and i really need the second movie now” he exclaims, sipping his bubbly liquid before looking down at me with the same blue eyes that can easily make me dizzy.
“i thought you’d come around Matt”
now i’m just a girl getting sad over a canned soda and a familiar brand of chips because it reminds me of all the good that once was.
along with this, i know everything about you.
i know your zodiac sign, me and leo’s are really compatible, which i never failed to mention to you despite how little you believe in astrology.
i can’t lie, the amount of silly little compatibility quizzes i took throughout middle school with our names punched in was a bit excessive, but every time without fail i would get the answers i had hoped for. and i thought that meant something.
i know how hard it was growing up for you. but i was there for you when you needed someone to force you to go to school in the morning, or when you needed help ordering food at the gas station across the street.
i used to think we were soulmates. not always romantic, but we just understood each other so well and i considered it to be sacred.
whenever i went through my own shit you were there for me. it was always so easy. knowing that if i had a bad day i had someone to go to who would listen with open ears… i guess it’s just been hard to live without that.
“Matt why did he break up with me? am i that unlovable?” i cry out, my head buried in matt’s chest as he rubs small circles on the back of my head.
he just pulls my head off of him, hands placed on either cheek as he looks at me. “i don’t think there is anyone on this planet that is more lovable than you”
i sniffle, trying my best to suppress the numerous tears that want nothing more than to escape my eyes. “so why did he break up with me out of the blue? after eight months why did he just decide he’s done with me?”
“because he’s an idiot who doesn’t understand the girl he just lost”
i cried for hours that night when my boyfriend broke up with me, and i know you remember. the next morning i woke up in your arms and i immediately felt guilty for keeping you up so late with my sob stories, but you didn’t care.
you said you wanted what’s best for me and you would make it your life’s goal to make me happy. and then you had the audacity to run your fingers through my hair as i thought about what to do next. that along with the constant reminders of how much i deserved love, that it was a definite thing for me.
how is that okay? do you not see how that was so completely confusing? did it mean absolutely nothing?
i haven’t kissed many people in my life, something Chris loved to tease me about. what he doesn’t know is that you were my first.
we never talked about it. maybe that was for the best, because every time i see a picture of you all i can think about is how good your lips felt on mine.
“i can’t just kiss you!” i laugh out, taking another swig of my drink before wiping my lips and looking back at the boy who has a serious expression resting on his face.
“sure you can. i don’t want jack to have an unfortunate ending to your guys’ date if u end up like… licking his bottom lip or some shit” he argues, holding his own drink in his own hand but keeping his attention solely on me.
“you’re just saying that because you’re drunk”
“maybe” he replies, sensing my hesitance. “is the idea of kissing me that bad?”
“no! no of course not, i just don’t wanna make it weird between us” i say, suddenly feeling a pool of anxiety form in my stomach.
but then, before i could form another overwhelming thought you just kissed me. just like that your lips were attached to mine and everything felt okay.
it was short lived, although i know i could have been like that forever. “nothing could ever make things weird between us, promise”
it’s funny isn’t it? how many times we assured each other that our friendship was solid, unbreakable.
i think the worst part is the not knowing. there’s nothing to comfort me with.
you left one day and you simply never spoke to me again. was it my fault? was it something i said?
i can’t help but wonder if the reason you cut it off is because you noticed all the small glances i would take in your direction. or if you noticed that the reason why i love romance books so much is because i imagine we’re the main characters.
that’s the thing though, i’ll never know. i feel less like myself without you, but maybe that’s part of growing up.
i have to learn what my own favourite snacks are and i can’t reply on you to have my back when i get my heart broken. instead i’ll be crying in an empty bed wondering what could’ve happened differently.
this wasn’t supposed to be a long letter but i promise it’s the only one you’ll be getting from me because i have to do the same as you, i have to move on.
i just have one question for you.
did all of this mean something to you? like really mean something to you in the way that i interpreted it.
i’ve wondered if i was delusional when i caught you staring at me from across the classroom, or when i found those compatibility tests in your search history.
but the kiss? drunk or not i thought something was there, with you or with us or whatever else. i didn’t think i was just another girl that Matt Sturniolo kisses and then forgets about but that’s exactly what i became.
anyways, i hope this letter finds you well. i had to ask Nate for your address but please don’t get mad at him. you know how stubborn i am when i want something and he tried to say no.
i guess i just love you, and i’m trying my best to make that sentence into past tense.
thanks for listening, y/n.
you grab an envelope that resides on the edge of your desk and open it up. folding up your letter and placing it gently inside before licking the tip of the envelope and closing it.
it all feels metaphorical. pouring your heart out just for it to get concealed by a thin piece of paper and shipped away.
regardless, you breathe out, standing up and making your way over to the garage to start your car. if you don’t do it know you won’t do it at all, and you need him to hear you.
a/n: if u want a part 2 you might get one maybe… we’ll see what i’m feeling anyways hope you enjoyed this blurb
taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace @gamermattsgf @mattscoquette @nervoussagittarius @sugrhigh @jnkvivi @sturnsmia
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tonkatsubowl · 1 day
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truth to be told, it takes a lot for aventurine to fully trust someone, let alone loving them.
the man had already lost so much, including his own sense of self. to be stabbed in his back, to be betrayed, to be mocked and used and made fun of—he was used to it. it would take aventurine a while for him to feel comfortable being vulnerable with someone, considering he didn't trust anyone in particular.
though the man wore a gorgeous smile, wandering through the streets of penacony, it wasn't a genuine smile, but a mask he put up. expensive clothing, his beautiful countenance and the abundance of money he liked to toss around... it was just a mask he put up. it was also for the sake of his own reputation, too. especially when you were directly under diamond herself.
the main suspect of his suffering. and the cause of his success. a double edged sword that he walked upon. his own life was theirs. a mere toy, a mere chess piece to gamble with.
...but when he met you, he was confused. afraid, even. but he put up a fake smile, some flirtatious words here and there, but the man did not trust you, nor did he believe you would be willing to stay by his side for an eternity for aeons know what.
when he met you, you were kind, understanding. you were a little stubborn, too, and humorous. you never failed to have aventurine laugh at your cute little jokes, and you never failed to protect him, whether it was against the ipc's mocking him in his name, or against nightmare infested monsters that dared to consume his flesh within a dream.
he was terrified of you.
he didn't know what you were doing to him.
every time he saw you, he felt... weak. vulnerable around you. and he hated it. he loathed it. he hated everything about how you were making him feel, as though you were a curse that came to haunt him due to the sins of his past.
every time he saw you, his heart began to palpitate, his chest aching. and it got worse whenever he saw you so happy with someone else. but... maybe you were better off with someone? everyone kept leaving him, after all, whether it was death or it was simply due to some gambling... game-thing. a business transaction, even.
but you stayed.
you stayed throughout the hardships he faced.
why?
just why?
why, of all people, did you want to stay with him? a once upon a time slave, now a business man specializing in manipulation, gambling (an addiction, to put it), and flirtatious words to soothe the mind so he could win his way.
even through everything, you were still here. that was when he decided to seek out a certain doctor.
he sat across from him, forcing a smile across his lips, but the doctor could see it. the mask that aventurine donned himself with.
"you're in love."
aventurine's eyes looked up to the other, "you must be misreading your books like usual."
"you came here... to me, for your thoughts."
aventurine chuckled to himself, nervously, even.
"love? i haven't heard that word in ages."
"it is a complicated thing. especially with how you can be, gambler. a man who is unpredictable, keen to the eye, and... well, unfamiliar with the positive things."
aventurine cleared his throat, toying with the golden coin in his hand. he purses his lips, his mask wearing off for a moment.
"...now, dr. ratio, i am not doubting your knowledge and intelligence, don't get me wrong. i just don't believe that it truly is such a strange thing called... love."
the genius sighed, "you complained to me the other day that you couldn't stand seeing (y/n) talking to others, smiling and laughing. i recall that i was not assigned to be your therapist, here. the rest should be obvious, but it appears you're too stubborn to catch on... or rather, you're unfamiliar with this feeling. this term. love."
bullseye. it was as though ratio had called him out completely. for once, the gambler was silent. here, he would try to make little comments here and there, some jokes there and wherever but... the man was actually silent.
"... what do you suggest i do, then?"
dr ratio leans in, resting both elbows on his knees, eyes fixated on the gambler's own pristine eyes.
"if you are comfortable with it, move at your own pace if you wish to pursue. this is ultimately your choice. you can pursue these feelings, or you may leave it. there is no right or wrong answer, here. this all depends on you and what you wish to do. love is about being vulnerable with each other. accepting each other at their lowest. being for one another. your lover is considered to be your number one companion, truthfully."
aventurine was quiet.
"what is your gambler's intuition?"
a sigh left aventurine's lips. he stood, flipping the coin in his hand, before showing the result of heads or tails.
"...i suppose i'll make a bet with myself. one that doesn't cost money or the finest of gold and jewelry."
the genius watched as the other male got up from his seat, retrieving his sunglasses from his expensive outfit, before placing them on. "i'll make a gamble, to be specific, about this."
"then i wish you the best of luck, aventurine."
months had past, and the two of you were already in a relationship. it had been months, but the man didn't dare to tell you, 'i love you' just yet. as a matter of fact, those words were terrifying for him. what if he lost you after he said that? what if something were to happen to you? he was terrified of saying it, as he wasn't ready yet.
dr. ratio was right—he was paranoid to the bone but hid it. yet, aventurine played a few cards and decided to gamble this relationship with you, to see if it could work out. and so far, everything was well.
you were understanding, kind, beautiful, patient... the perfect partner someone could ask for.
but it also felt undeserving.
did... he deserve this love? did he truly deserve to experience the harmony that his heart fluttered to? he began to doubt. then he spiraled into a panic.
he began to sleep restlessly at night, rendering himself vulnerable to nightmares and the instability of his mind.
... but you were there, throughout all of it.
his eyes shot open, the familiar warmth of your hand gently cupped at his left cheek. he had fallen asleep on the couch, reading a long text presented to him by his supervisor, which was mainly just work and business related things. he didn't realize he had fallen asleep, and at first was confused when he woke up.
his phone was placed securely on the table, and there was a blanket draped over him. the air conditioning was turned on for his comfort, and before him was a tray full of biscuits, tea... for him to savor in once he woke from his nightmare.
"are you... alright?" you asked. "you were having a bad dream."
his eyes traveled to your voice, finding your concerned expression, his palpitating heart now steadying at an easy rate. he began to breathe, his eyes softening.
you were here, at his most vulnerable state, concerned for his well-being. he was silent, but he immediately reeled you in for a gentle hug. he was reluctant, but he wanted to feel the rest of your warmth. your head was buried into his chest, and you could hear his heart slow down. he closed his eyes, calming down from his inner demons.
"...you're okay." you murmur, brushing the top of his hair with your hands. "i'm here for you."
you didn't know much about him at all, truth to be told. the man wasn't really comfortable sharing his past with you, yet. he was a locked chest, and in order to find the key to his past, you had to be patient. time was key, but whatever demons he was facing at night... he knew you would be there.
he had doubts, at first, and always believed that he'd always be alone.
but... you were a different story.
"...thank you," he whispers onto your ear, cradling you close to his chest, "for being here."
your gaze softens, and you were silent for a moment. this was the first time you've seen aventurine like this. so vulnerable, so... reliant on you. but you were okay. because everyone has their own weakness. not everyone was perfect, and you understood that.
"... don't thank me." you say, closing your eyes, taking in his scent as the two of you nuzzled up against each other on the couch, "please don't. it's my job—my duty, as your other half, to be here for you."
dr. ratio's words echoed into his brain, reminding him of what love truly is. being there for one another, no matter what.
"you haven't been here?"
months past, and aventurine is presenting a beautiful, scenic view of penacony for you. the night sky was phenomenal, and the beautiful sounds of crickets and late night critters were no more than music to your ears. you seat yourself at the bench, whilst the gambler was walking around, admiring the view... taking pictures, even.
"i haven't, but now i am." you say, flashing a smile.
aventurine took some time off today to take you out on a date. the man had more than enough sick and vacation leave to do this for you, and it's the first time where he actually used it.
he sits next to you, admiring the night sky, and the sight of you above all else.
"it's a beautiful sight. i come here when i want to... relax."
your gaze softens, and your hand comes towards his own. digits intertwine, and you murmur something, audible for your lover's ears.
"thank you for taking me here. to your safe place."
aventurine looks over to you, puzzled.
"... safe place, huh? didn't expect to... call it that. but i guess that's what you can say for this spot. i can feel at peace here." he nods slowly, looking back to the scenic view.
"... it's a spot where you can feel vulnerable and be okay with it," you say, instantly catching his attention, "and i want to thank you for trusting me to bringing me here. i really, really do appreciate it."
ratio's words echo through his mind once more, the pad of his thumb suddenly reaching over, gently lifting your chin. he leans in, granting you a subtle kiss, in which you've returned.
"... may... i be vulnerable, once again?"
he lowered his guard, his voice coming to a whisper.
"you... can always be vulnerable around me. i want to be your safe person." you respond, in a whisper.
"..." he was silent. "i love you."
it was the first time, too, that he said such a thing to you. such strong words that let your heart skip a few beats. your face comes to a faint, vermillion flush, but you were happy nonetheless. you smile, cupping each side of his face.
"i love you too."
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valeskafics · 3 days
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"Revision" - Michael Gavey x Reader
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a/n: not REALLY bimbo!reader but reader is bimbo coded, so imagine her however you want babes 🤭 little drabble written for an anon request hehe and a late bday present for my girl @fan-goddess 🩷
Summary: You do your best to distract Michael from revising.
TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, brat taming, thigh riding, fingering, cockwarming, dom!michael, sub!reader, bimbo coded reader
Word Count: 1,000 words
Rating: 18+, MDNI
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Saltburn characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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You have more patience than most when it comes to Michael Gavey. People wonder how you’re able to put up with him, considering the two of you are practically polar opposites. But they don’t realize that is exactly what makes you work. You’re the yin to his yang, for lack of a better term. And you adore your nerdy boyfriend. The way he wears those shirts with the silly math puns on them, his glasses that fog up when he gets a bit too excited, his intelligence. Maths has never been your strong suit, and yet unlike with others, Michael never makes you feel like an idiot about it. He takes his time explaining concepts to you in a way that actually makes sense. 
Of course, at first? He had every desire to make fun of you. You were the quintessential “popular” girl, the kind all the guys want to be with and all the girls want to be. But there was so much more to you. A genuine kindness, an inherent goodness that captured his heart. And when you told him you had a crush on him, an adorable little grin on your face - Michael was convinced that he had to be dreaming.
And now, here you are, two years later, hanging out at his flat. Michael is busy revising for his physics exam while you laze about on his bed, wearing nothing but his tee shirt, the early summer heat already making its way through Oxford. You glance over at Michael, watching as he scribbles away in his notebook, typing like a madman on his laptop. The copy of Vogue you’ve been leafing through has already begun to bore you, so you toss it aside and move to plop yourself in his lap, tugging his face so that it rests on your chest. Michael’s never been able to resist your tits, after all.
True to form, he nuzzles up against you, his face resting against your cleavage, one arm wrapping around your waist while his other hand continues typing away, “Hello, love. What’s got you all needy, hm?”
You pout slightly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you complain, “‘M so bored, Mikey. Aren’t you done yet? You’ve been at this for nearly three hours now! Everyone knows you’re going to get the highest marks in the class without even cracking open a book.”
He chuckles, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and pressing a kiss to your chest, “You’re adorable. You know that? But I really do need to revise.”
“No, you don’t,” you whine pitifully, sick of your boyfriend’s neglect. You move to straddle his lap, completely blocking his view of his laptop, “You need to pay attention to me. Your girlfriend. Who is in your lap right now.”
He arches an eyebrow as you remove his glasses, placing them on yourself, “Well, my girlfriend looks pretty sexy in my glasses, I have to admit.” Michael snatches them back and puts them on once again, maneuvering you back to sit on his thigh, no longer blocking his view, “I swear, love. I’m almost done. Just… Entertain yourself for a few minutes longer, yeah?”
And that’s when a wicked little thought crosses your mind. Michael wants you to entertain yourself? Alright. You’ll fucking entertain yourself. He barely notices at first when you start to ride his thigh, grinding yourself against him. Michael is far too fucking absorbed in his bullshit physics equations to realize that you’re practically humping his knee, whining to yourself like a bitch in heat, wanting nothing more than for him to stop fucking studying and pay attention to you. It’s only when you move your hand to lift the fabric of the shirt you wear ever so slightly and begin circling your pearl with your fingertips, letting out an obnoxiously loud moan of his name.
That’s when Michael’s eyes go wide as he realizes what it is that you’re doing, “B-babe?”
“Fuck, Michael, I want you so bad, baby,” you whimper, playing up every sound for his benefit, “Want that fat cock inside me, baby. Need your hands on my arse, squeezing me, slapping me. Your hand on my throat. Fuck, Mikey…”
If he was half-hard before? He’s definitely hard now. Your ass rubs against his crotch in a way that has him feeling like he’s going to cum in his pants if you keep this up. His coursework finally forgotten, he moves to rest his hands on your hips, helping you ride his thigh, helping you move faster and faster as you chase your peak. He moves one hand to push yours away from your clit, deftly circling it, pressing down with his fingertips, smirking to himself as you cry out his name, soaking his jeans with the evidence of your arousal, your head lolling back against his shoulder as your climax overtakes you.
Your eyes begin to flutter shut, but Michael lightly slaps your face, smirking at you, “Oh, no you don’t. Selfish little thing. Got me all hard and now you want to take a nap? No, sweetheart. You’re going to be a good little girl for me and sit on my cock while I finish revising.”
Your jaw drops, mouth watering ever so slightly at the sight of his length, the tip a red angry color, already weeping pre cum as he lifts you up by the hips, filling your cunt, making you moan. You try to squirm, but Michael lands a harsh slap against your clit, his voice sharp as he reprimands you.
“I said you’re going to sit on my cock. You’re not going to move, you’re not going to come. You’re not going to do anything. You’re going to let me finish revising and then I’ll fuck you all you want, alright? So be a good girl and do as you’re told.”
You frown, sighing slightly, your walls squeezing around him despite his instructions, earning a tremulous exhale from him, “Yes, Daddy.”
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Dirty Work 52
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: I always come back to Loki.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Loki lingers, his head against your arm as you sit in the hue of spring. You could be calm if he weren’t there, if he hadn’t just altered your irrevocably. His wife? 
You could’ve never imagined it. You can’t be his wife. You’re the maid. You’re lost and hopeless and unimportant. Yet he wants to marry you? You? Even your own father doesn’t want you. Until just then, you may have thought the same of man kneeling by your feet. 
Should it feel special? Should you be happy? Doesn’t every woman dream of her wedding day? You didn’t. You never expected a husband. You never had the thought to spare marriage. It just didn’t seem realistic to you. It was never a possibility you had to weigh. 
“You’re quiet,” he lifts his head slowly, looking up at you with his gemlike eyes, “aren’t you excited?” 
You suck in your lip then let it out, “yeah, I’m just... surprised.” 
“Mm, I’m sorry it wasn’t a better one,” he looks around, “no candles, no champagne... but there are flowers.” 
“Yeah, I guess, er--” 
You hear the doors and before you can face the intruder on your scene, Frigga’s voice unleashes in a shrill squeal, “did you do it? Oh, please, Loki, what did she say?” 
He shifts and clears his throat. He grips the arms rest and pushes himself to his feet. He plants a kiss on your forehead before he straightens. He lets out a breath as he turns to his mother. 
“We are getting married,” he says plainly. 
“Oh, how wonderful,” she chimes, “oh, a daughter-in-law!... Again.” She chuckles lightly, “it will be like a fairytale.” She flutters over to you as Loki moves out of her way, “darling,” she takes your hand, tugging you up to your feet, “this will be even grander than Walpurgisnacht. Oh yes, this will be unforgettable.” 
You look at Loki as he returns your helpless gaze. You pout in his direction as he shrugs. Your mouth curves deeper downward. Please help! 
“I’ve got some silhouettes in mind,” she pulls you away from the table, “Hela showed me this app, Pinterest I believe it’s called. I have all these splendid things saved.” 
‘Sorry,’ Loki mouths and turns his hands out as you’re dragged away from the sunlight and the serenity of nature. Back to the dark house where you can’t breathe. 
Inside, she takes you into the kitchen. She leaves you by the island as she flits around, dropping black tea into a pot and putting on the kettle to boil. She hums gleefully as you just stare. ‘Daughter-n-law'. That’s what she said. Would that make her your mother? 
“Dear,” she turns to you and exhales, her expression dampening, “I recall you said your mother isn't with us anymore. I understand that may make this bittersweet for you but I will be here for you. Whatever you need, whatever questions you have, I’ll be happy to help. A wedding is a big thing. There’s much to do.” 
You nod, “should we... should we hire a planner?” 
“A planner? Gods no! I fancy myself a bit of an amateur but more than adequate,” she tuts, “we could have it at the house. Or perhaps we might seek out a nice chapel.” 
You frown. It’s all so much so fast. She stops and puts her hand to her chest, “oh sorry, darling, I’m just so excited for you. I’m not trying to take over. Don’t be afraid to speak up. What do you think for a venue? Oh, perhaps a destination? Somewhere tropical?” 
You cross your arms and peer over, your eyes catching the sheen of sunlight. 
“The garden,” you murmur, “the gazebo. It’s all fixed up. We could put flowers around the rails.” 
“That’d be a beautiful ceremony but what about the reception? We need space.” 
“Oh,” you babble. 
“Certainly we could make it work. We could fit people into the garden, we may have to sacrifice a few hedges.” 
“Not many,” you mutter. 
“Pardon, dear?” She asks as the kettle clicks and she turns to grab it off the burner, “what do you mean by that?” 
“I...” your shoulders slump at the realisation, “I don’t have anyone to invite.” 
She’s quiet as she pours the steaming water into the tea pot, “that’s not true. You have us and oh, Bragi seemed quite fond of you.” 
“That doesn’t count.” 
“Why not? Dear, we love Loki because we have to, we love you because we want to,” she smiles. 
Your eyes drift away wistfully. She can’t understand. She has people, she has everything you ever wanted. Even with the promise of a pretty house, a gorgeous garden, and all that comes with it, it just doesn’t make you feel any different. 
You want a dad who loves you. You want a mother who’s alive. You want anyone who isn’t just obligated to you. 
“I’m sorry,” her voice goes low, “I’m not meaning to upset you. I’ll slow down. I understand it’s a lot--” 
“How could you want me to marry him? I don’t belong—I shouldn’t-- I can’t be your daughter.” 
“Why ever not?” She asks. 
You scoff and push your shoulders up, “I’m not good enough.” 
She laughs, but not a taunting laugh. It’s disbelieving. She takes you by the shoulders and makes you face her head on, “darling, let me tell you, you are. You... you have no idea.” 
“No idea?” You shake your head as you look at her from beneath your lashes. 
“About what you do to my son. No, you cannot see it but I do. My Loki. I’ve seen him married, I’ve seen him heartbroken, I’ve seen him through everything, but something’s different about this. About you,” he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and hairline, “you have a power over him. Once you claim it, this will all be so much easier.” She cups your cheeks and tilts her head with a coy smile, “that’s how a marriage should be, you will see. He’ll never admit it but my son is more like his father than you would think.” 
You scrunch up your nose. You don’t believe her. You can’t. You don’t have power. You’re just you. You’re not special or anything like that. You now what you are to Loki. The same thing you’ve always been to him, whether his maid, his plaything, or his wife; convenient. 
“You will see,” she assures as if she can hear your doubts, “and what always clears my mind is tea.” 
Frigga expounds at length about all the possibilities ahead of you. She has grocery list that goes beyond a mere wedding. An engagement party, a bridal shower, the rehearsal, and not to mention, a scandalous bachelorette. You only sink further into anxiety. What have you gotten yourself into? 
Well, you never did say yes. You weren’t asked, were you? Doesn’t matter. It’s not like you have anywhere to go. 
You hold your chin, gnawing on your lip as Frigga rambles on about wedding colours. Green is nice but what about something subtle. Oh, or metallic. You simply nod, offering little to her monologue. 
Your eyes wander past her to the windows. The afternoon wanes as evening cools the air. You mourn the sunlight as it shifts and the curtains dull. 
“Ahem,” the clearing of a throat draws you away from your detachment. 
Frigga quiets as she glances at her husband. He stands in the doorway, greeting you both with a subtle smile. 
“I hate to interrupt, dear,” he says to Frigga, “but I was hoping I might be spared a moment with our future daughter before the sun sets. It has been a long day and I’d hate to keep her later than need be.” 
“Oh, uh, certainly,” Frigga pushes her shoulders back, her cheeks tinging a dainty pink, “time must’ve got away from me. I’m so sorry, darling.” She reaches over and squeezes above your elbow, “I have been going on and on.” 
“You will have lots of time to do so,” Odin chuckles, “but I feel the rain coming soon and I would like a walk in the gardens before then.” He tilts his head towards you, “may I have the honour?” 
Frigga nudges you dips her head, “go on.” 
You stand and swallow tightly, crossing the room to Odin as he waits patiently. You offer a sheepish look as he offers his arm. You thank him and walk with him into the entryway. He lets you retrieve your shoes before you go to the back doors and he ushers you outside. 
You’re quiet as you descend the steps and stroll between the hedges. You feel the cool dampness creeping in the air. He’s right about the rain. You cling to his arm as a shiver crawls up your spine. 
He draws away briefly, slipping off his thick cardigan, and he slips it over your shoulders. You murmur a thank you and he loops his arm with yours once again. You carry on, uncertain. You can sense he means to say something and you think you know what. He isn’t as happy as Frigga about this union. 
You brace yourself for it. For him to put all your doubts to voice. You’re not good enough for Loki. This is a mistake. You are a pretender and you don’t belong in this family. 
“My son is a fool,” he begins, shaking you with his soft but deep tone. You exhale, somewhat comforted that you were right. For once. “The way he’s behaved, foolish. And that’s to put it lightly, my dear.” He reaches to pat your hand in the crook of his arm, “you deserve much better than either of my sons.” 
You keep your chin low as you watch your feet. A twig crushes beneath your sole as leaves rustle to your left. You glance over and stare after a short tail before it disappears. It’s only then you realise where he’s leading you. 
The gazebo rises ahead of you with it’s domed roof. He stops you at the bottom and turns. He lets you go and lowers himself to sit on the step. He pats the wood next to him. As you sit, he looks up, admiring the structure. 
“You did a good job,” he says. 
“What?”  
“On this,” he touches the railing, “looks sturdy.” 
“Oh, well I... I only called the carpenter.” 
“You did what needed to be done. What my son would not.” 
“Mm, I guess,” you shrug. 
“You did,” he insists, “do you not see it?” 
“See what?” You twiddle your fingers. 
“You are much stronger than he thinks you are. Than you think you are,” he shakes his head, “you underestimate yourself. My son, as much as I hate to think I raised him that way, while whine and whine before he gets anything done. If he can avoid it, it won’t be done. But you, I see it clearly, you do things. You know what life is. You just get through it.” 
You hum and bite down on your cheeks. Not having a choice isn’t bravery. If anything, it’s the opposite. 
“You shouldn’t. Just get through it. You should have some joy. You shouldn’t be locked away in the dark away from the sunlight. You should flourish in it,” he leans against you, “don’t let this marriage be like everything else.” 
You dip your head. He sees right through you. 
“You’re wrong, I’m not strong. I’m weak. I only do things because I’m afraid,” you sniffle. 
“But you can admit that fear. You can face it. Not many people can.” 
You sighs and drag your hands up and down your calves, hunching over your knees. 
“If you want to marry my son, I will not say a word to stop you, but I do want you to make a promise to me,” he continues, “a small one. Rather, think of it as a promise to yourself.” 
“Okay,” you wilt as you look over at him. His eyes are a bluish grey with flecks of slate. His gaze is gentle. 
“It’s what we spoke of before,” he says, “you must tell my son no.” 
“No?” 
“Ah, yes, I do regret he didn’t hear more it earlier in his life but he does need to hear it. Especially from you,” he intones. 
“But I...” 
“You will. And when you do, he will listen.” 
“How-- no, he wouldn’t.” 
“Ah, I know. My son is isn’t very good at that but he will. He must. He has reason to listen now. You are not his wife yet,” he puts his hand over yours, just atop your knee. 
You give a strained look, somewhere between a smile and frown. You’re flattered that he believe in you but you don’t. He doesn’t know the way it. He doesn’t know the way you are. 
“Alright, let’s practice,” he pulls his hand away and claps. He pushes himself to his feet with a grunt and spins to face you. He adjusts his collar and lifts his chin, putting on face, almost a pinched look, “now, wife,” his voice is slightly off, “what I say is law and you will do as I say.” 
You stare at him, confused. You purse your lips and shake your head. What is he talking about? 
He grins and shows his palms, “I am him. Pretend I’m my son,” he lowers his voice, “now, we’ve had enough of this conversation and I have made my decision.” 
You pick your nail, watching him dumbly. 
He breaks character again, “say no.” 
“What?” 
“Say it,” he orders then once more his poster shifts. “Wife, I will not tell you again.” 
You blink and take a deep breath, “n--no?” 
He sputters, “pardon? What was that?” 
“No,” you say firmer, heart beating, “no, I—I won’t.” 
“But I said so--” 
“Oh, um, okay--” 
“No, no, no,” Odin waves his hands, “keep going.” 
“Uh, okay, uh, no,” you say again. 
“No? You’re telling me no?” He puts on a display which does remind you of Loki. “How can you tell me no?” 
You look at him and blanch. His grey eyes stare back, goading you on. He bows his head slightly. 
“Yes, I mean, no. Yes, I am telling you no. No,” you steady your voice, “no.” He spins his finger and you repeat it again, loudly. 
He arches his brow and puts his hand to his chest, “no?” He sounds almost pathetic, “but darling,” he comes forward and lowers himself to his knees, one at a time. He takes your hand in his, “darling, please, don’t be mad at me.” 
You scoff as his theatrics turn ridiculous. You make a face and roll your eyes, “he wouldn’t...” 
“He will,” Odin assures. “If he knows you’re serious, if you don’t give him what he wants right away, oh, I think you could give him a right scare. As I have it, you already have done.” He lifts himself slightly and angles to sit beside you again, “just perhaps this time you needn’t scale the roof.” 
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xueyidweams · 3 days
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My faves of Penacony (Aventurine & Acheron) x gn!reader who gives them a flower bouquet ramble(!!!!)
Aventurine
i have fancy gifs now woagh!
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You were a bartender at a bar that was located in a pretty big casino in Penacony, where the gamblers come to drink their defeat away or celebrate their big wins. You’re pretty used to the racket and seeing the same faces and one day you see him. That gambler, he who never loses, he who has such pretty eyes and lips and he who winks at you so handsomely as you try to do your job and he who always seems to make some sort of electricity run through your whole body when your fingers brush.
You’re not a child, you know you at least like him romantically. You were gonna show your love with some flowers! That’s a classic, right? So you pick up some that you think match his pretty eyes perfectly and go to work, it’s pretty awkward but you can’t really see him anywhere else so this is your only shot.
You perk up as you’re cleaning some glasses and you hear his voice. Your heart does its routine again, beating so fast you feel like it’s gonna zoom out of your chest. You pat your chest just where your heart is and take a deep breath as he calls for his favorite drink. You make it, giving yourself an internal pep talk while doing so, and you present him with his drink. Only now, his glass is decorated with the flowers you bought for him, you decided to be more subtle at the end with a little note. “I hope you like the flowers, no match for your pretty eyes but I hope it makes you smile nonetheless.” Aeons you sucked at romance but damn it you tried and now you feel hot under the collar as you try your best to focus on your customers while aventurine’s eyes are STARING directly at your nape you can FEEL it.
You flinch a bit when he calls your name with that sultry voice of his, you go up to him trying to keep up some sort of professionalism. though that all goes down the window when he beckons you a bit closer, picks up a flower from the glass and tucks it onto your ear. “I think they look even prettier on you.” You stumble over your words as he smiles wordlessly, his eyes full of warmth you didn’t know they could hold and oh Aeons he is so much more pretty like this. Prettier closer, you really don’t want to pull away but there are customers yelling for you already and ugh!
He chuckles as he notices your obvious agitation, “go look after your customers, I’ll treat you to dinner if you’d like? Whatever you want, it’s on me.” He gets even closer, he is shorter when he’s sitting and its adorable to see him looking up at you— “if you’d allow me to privilege of getting to know you better, of course.”
Acheron
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As a hotel worker for the family themselves you’re expected to be professional and helpful at all times. Always show a smile never be so impatient, they are precious guests after all.
You sigh as you clean another pool of a soda that’s not even sold in Penacony, how did that even get there? as you complain in your mind about how rude these people are to you just because you’re getting paid to clean up their messes doesn’t mean they can just—
“Hello?”
Your head snaps up and your customer smile comes back, “Hello! Anything I can help you with, miss?” She blinks at you for a moment, caught off guard by your overly cheery attitude, she looks around and then at you. her gaze feels intense, it makes you feel shy. She finally speaks, “I’m.. lost. I don’t know where my room is.” Oh, okay that’s easy.
“What was the number, miss?” She looks at you blankly again, you both sit in silence for a few seconds, and she speaks again. “I’m sorry I forgot that… too.” You sigh as you internally facepalm. Deciding that this pretty but directionally confused lady needs help, you put on your big person pants and ask for her room number from the reception and you escort her to her room. She thanks you as she looks at you from head to toe, there’s a small smile on her face.
This happens a few more times over the week, you keep helping her. her company is really nice, she doesn’t really judge and you can talk about how much of a bother she can be, she affirms your woes with a nod or a hum and thats enough honestly. worst of all.. okay look, love at first sight might be cliche but come on! she’s pretty, tall, has a nice voice and is polite to you. she even brushed a plastic leaf that got on your head and her hand dipped to your cheek, you could feel the cold metal on her fingers and the eye contact went on for a few seconds too long and you felt yourself melt. plus! she was a guest, who knows how long she’s gonna be here? better take your chances.
You give yourself a pretty short pep talk, “if yes hug her if no run away.” pretty good plan all things considered. You had a purple flower bouquet on your hands and some chocolate that was cheesily made for valentine and you got it half for the price. You knock on her door and hear a shuffle, with every step she takes your heart beats faster and faster until she opens the door and it feels like the time stops. You stutter and stumble as her eyes bore into you, she seems full of interest but it still makes you nervous to be the center of attention. “I.. I um… ah!” You can’t do it, you thrust the flowers onto her arms, she takes it and you make a run for it, you’re so dumb dumb dumb what the hell were you thinking oh Aeons she hates you now she does—
what you don’t see is her smelling the flowers and looking after your running form, a familiar yet distinct warmth bleeds to her heart. Her smile a little softer, her eyes a little warmer, she holds onto the flowers and the next time she sees you, she will have some flowers ready for you too.
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thegnomelord · 11 hours
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if you write a thing about the creaming the zussy i will kiss ur boots
The boots better be shining when you're done.
How To Cure Zombies 101
CW:NSFW MDNI, crackfic obv PiV sex, TLOU Clicker trans Ghost, Top Male Reader, established relationship, happy ending, dub-con because Simon consented before he got bit but reader is apprehensive, zombie sex (does it count as necro?) how does this work? idk porn logic. Don't ask me how this happened, i hope this doesn't become what my blog becomes known for.
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When the Cordyceps spread across the planet and turned millions of people into shambling mushroom infested undead, the world ended.
When Simon got bitten. . . your world ended.
You still remember it like it had been yesterday; He came back bloody, an empty look in his eyes as he showed you the bite on his arm. Your hands shook as he wrapped them around the grip of the gun and aimed it at his head. You both ended up on the floor with you crying into his chest, unable to pull the trigger.
You remember the resigned look in his eyes when he had agreed to let you do whatever you needed to him to cure him, but both of you knew there was no way, what made you immune to the fungus was as mysterious to the rest of the world as it was for you. His lips had been burning hot when he laid a soft kiss on your forehead, the last sense of warmth you've felt since the docs took him to where they kept the infected for study, your heart leaving with him.
And now?
Now the scientists that have been prodding you like a lab rat since Simon got bitten nearly a year ago say they have a way to bring his mind back, to get Simon back.
And the way to do it?
"So let me get this straight?" You begin, your voice tense, your body even tenser. "You want me to fuck the corpse of my lover? And that will cure him?"
That. You're not sure how the eggheads arrived to this conclusion, frankly all of their scientific jargons had flown over your head. All you understood was that the man you had fallen since the first time you met him could be brought back.
You sincerely hope you won't make some type of super fungus through this.
Words can't describe what you feel as you look at Simon's (is it even Simon?) bound body writhing on the gyno chair, naked and bare to you. You doubt you even know what you feel, hope and fear simultaneously curling in your stomach— You hadn't had the courage to look at him ever since the scientists took him away; The harsh laboratory lights make it easy to see the mycelium filling his veins beneath the ashy pale skin, mushroom caps growing beneath his pecs and across all other scars he has. Red and yellow mushrooms have eaten away his nose and spread out to follow the contours of his face, growing in a way that makes the mushroom caps blend together into a skull shape.
Your heart aches when you see his eyes haven't been eaten away yet, the once deep brown turned milky white and staring lifelessly past you, thrashing about in the bindings, rotten teeth gnawing on the ball gag in his mouth, small hisses and malformed muffled clicks echoing through the room.
You try to look down and you stop at his stomach, forcing yourself to breathe in and out slowly because your heart is beating so fast it feels like you'll have a panic attack. You have no idea if this will work and doing this to Simon only to find out it's as useless as all your previous attempts to cure him. . . you're sure it would break you. Closing your eyes and counting to ten you will yourself to focus, your eyes opening slowly and following the trail of little mushroom caps down to his groin.
It's not what you expected., but it's. . . a lot; Mushroom caps have replaced the lips of his cunt, similar to the hard growths on his head but these look thinner and longer, almost like flower petals framing his cunt, bright red at the corners and getting progressively lighter as it nears his hole. A sort of morbid curiosity compels you to reach out brushing your fingertips against the caps. They're surprisingly softer than you had expected, smooth and slick with some kind of slime. You can't help but notice how a longer stalked mushroom grows from what had been his clit.
You jerk your hand back when a second brush of your fingers makes his body to jerk back and attempt to fight against the restraints, more angry clicks vibrating his throat.
But you also notice a kind of… sweet scent in the air and it's coming from him. Cautiously you brush against the caps again, slowly dipping your fingers under to touch the gills underneath. You keep your hand where it is when he thrashes again, but you're certain that smell is stronger now, and you catch the glimpse of clear viscous slick slowly leak from his hole.
Carefully you push a finger into his hole in an attempt to stretch him out. Logically you know that he probably doesn't feel it, but it feels wrong to just stick your cock in him; He's cold. You know he's dead but you had held out some hope that he would be warmer, that there would be some signs of life despite how stupid that sounds.
He's dry right now, but more of that clear fluid seeps around your fingers and lubes the way as you experimentally push your finger all the way up to the last knuckle, and you felt his muscles flutter around you, clenching down as if trying to draw you in deeper. His head continued to thrash around, no change in the feral behavior, but you still try to be gentle, pushing one then two fingers in and slowly scissoring him open.
You pull your fingers out when his hole has relaxed enough to let you easily slide your fingers in and out, and he's produced enough slick to completely drench your hand. You try to look at him as you press your cock against his fluttering hole, but the sight of his milky eyes almost makes you soft on the spot so you screw your eyes closed and slowly slide in.
Despite how cold and wet his cunt is, you haven't felt anyone's touch, even your own, since he got infected, and a part of you feels disgusted at how a bit of pleasure traces up your spine. He continues to hiss and click as you bottom out, his hips bucking wildly you have to press them down. You set a slower pace than you're used to, keeping your thrusts even and consistent, afraid to tear anything but your fear is seemingly misplaced. He's so much wetter than he'd ever get before he got infected, slick wetly squelching as you bottom out over and over again, clicks and snarls accompanying every move you make.
You're ashamed to say you don't last long. Fuck, is he tight you've been ignoring your body for so long that when you accidentally brush against the stalk growing from his clit and his cunt suddenly tightens up like a vice you cum on the spot, your hips doing little minute twitches as you empty so much of your cum in his cunt that your balls hurt. You pull out just as slowly, both of your mixed fluids leaking out and almost getting caught by the soft mushrooms framing his hole.
You muster up the courage to look him in the eyes, and your heart breaks when his lifeless eyes blindly stare back at you.
You feel like a fool when the first time doesn't work, he's still just a body pupated by a fungus. And you feel like an even bigger fool when you agree to do this a second time.
But the third time. . .
You don't know if it's just wishful thinking but he seems more. . . alert. His head always follows you when you approach him but now his milky eyes almost seem to be looking at your face instead of staring straight through you. He's strangely still on the chair, teeth gnawing on the ball gag but he doesn't try to get out of the restraints.
He doesn't screech when you gently caress the soft outer mushroom caps framing his cunt, instead his chest vibrates with more deep clicks. Nor does he start to wildly writhe on the chair when you slowly sink a finger into his cunt, finding it's already wet with slick. If anything he almost seems to chase(more like stumble) after the sensation, his hips doing small little movements to push your finger deeper into him.
Emboldened by childish hope you do something you hadn't before and reach with your other hand to slowly trace the long stalk of the clitshroom (not a term you coined), before rubbing the base of the cap like you would your own cock.
You nearly jump out of your skin when the gentle pressure of your fingers makes him buck into your hands and let out an ear-piercing screech that the gag has trouble muffling. You pull your hands away and that worsens the problem, the shrieking turning into literal chest rumbling snarls as Simon starts to struggle against the bindings.
Panic rushing down your system you put your hands were they were, gently stroking the 2 inch long mushroom growing from his clit. His hips buck up to chase after your hand, the snarls reverting back into shrieks, but as you stroke him longer they gradually die down to low pitched clicks and whistles. You're stumped; the clicks sound a lot like a cat's puff, his hole fluttering and clenching around your fingers as you slowly push them inside.
He's warmer now, not quite how he was before, but not cold as a corpse either. You know that you've gone completely mad by the fact he starts to gyrate his hips— grinding down just as you get knuckles deep so your fingers can brush against the sensitive spots inside him — makes your mind think that it's a bit of your Simon coming back.
You shake your head and pull your hands away, taking hold of his trembling thighs. You're greeted with another deep snarl but he quiets down immediately when you start to slowly push into him. He feels even tighter now, and you watch how his head falls back on the headrest, a long series of low clicks and whistles squirming past the gag.
His hips move to meet your slow thrusts, tight warm walls squeezing down every time you attempt to pull out just like he used to do. And that thought has your body increasing the pace automatically, your balls slapping against his ass, every sharp thrust hitting something spongy inside him and drawing out a sharp click, the rough pace leaving you panting.
Mindlessly you look up, too caught up in the moment remembering how Simon loved eye contact to remember the situation you're in.
He's looking straight at you.
You halt mid thrust, the low hiss he lets out falling on deaf ears as you tilt your head to the side. You're not insane, his eyes follow you. They're still milky, but they don't look through you. He's looking at you.
Another rough clicking sound leaves him and he thrusts his hips down against yours with enough strength to bruise, almost impatient. Despite how stupid it is you reach out and quickly unbuckle the gag with trembling fingers. "Si?" You say, unable to hide the hope in your voice. "Are you there?" You lean over him, looking hopefully into his eyes. "Do you remember me?"
His jaw moves like he's munching on a survivor, but all that leaves his mouth are more clicks and rough grunts.
Fuck. You are a fool.
A sob tears through your chest before you can stop it, ducking your head down to lay it on his chest. You're unable to keep the fresh tears from falling on him, watering the damned mushrooms that had taken him from you. You can't stop the sobs from coming, your back bowed and shoulders shaking as you cry just as much as the day you first lost him.
His chest vibrates with another long series of clicks and whistles, just pouring salt on the gaping would in your chest.
Your name rights through the room.
It's scratchy, rough, almost incomprehensible to your ears, but it's your name.
You look up so quickly you almost snap his neck. "Simon?" You whisper, staying in him even as you feel yourself soften. "Are you in there?" You slowly reach out to hold his face, careful not to cut your hands on the sharp mushroom caps along his cheeks.
He looks at you back, jaw moving still, but he doesn't try to bite the flesh of your palms despite your hands being right there. "Ckckck-" He clicks, pupils going from pinpricks to blown out, "Ckckrkck- Mo- ckck-ve." He manages, a thrust of his hips accompanying the order.
Your heart leaps to your throat and you can do nothing but follow it, sliding one hand down to dig your nails into his thigh, looming over him as you pull out until only the head is inside and them slam into him that there's an audible clap of skin on skin as you bottom out. A half shriek half click half "Yes!" escapes him as he throws his head back, slack jawed.
A whole range of noises escapes him as you hammer into him with all you've got, one hand remaining always on his face. You can feel him getting hotter the longer you pound into him, body shaking as each thrust nails his sensitive spot. He gets progressively tighter and tighter as you fuck into him, and you let go of his thigh to carefully strike along the long shaft of the clitshroom.
He shrieks at the top of his lungs and his cunt clenches down on you like a vice, fluttering around you and gripping your cock like it doesn't want you to pull out. It pulls you into an orgasm,
"Simon?" You whisper, staying in him even as you feel yourself soften. He's too silent compared to how vocal he had been a few moments ago. "Are you in there?"
His head rolls a bit, peering at you through through his lashes, tongue moving heavily in his mouth and lips twitching up into a soft of barely-there grin. "Cckck- l- ckckc- love- ckrk-you -ckkckrkckck-"
Taglist: @dead-end-stuff
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nervoussagittarius · 2 days
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what could possibly go wrong?
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matt sturniolo x influencer!reader
summary: matt tries to teach his girlfriend how to play fortnite on a twitch stream, request
warnings: lots of fluff, swearing, fortnite?, some suggestive jokes, yapper! reader
“babe, come sit with me. i just started the stream. people are joining, only for you i think” matt laughed
“of course they are they love me. i keep it real and i’m hilarious” you replied pulling out the extra chair by matt’s desk and sitting down.
“okay, so here’s your controller, and i’m gonna put the headset on you so people can hear you talk.” matt gently placed the headset on you and brushed a piece of hair out of your eyes.
matt got up for a second telling you that he was going to the kitchen to get a drink. you jokingly slapped his ass on his way out. you quickly looked between the camera and the chat trying to read what everyone was saying.
“guys, you want to know what i was thinking about today?” you waited to see their responces even though you were most likely going to tell them anyway.
“so i was driving around la today, and it’s getting hot out again, so everyone’s driving their convertibles. and i drove past like four of them. all i could think about was how easy it would be to steal the car, not that im going to, but how do people feel comfortable leaving their shit open like that”
matt walked back in as you continued to rant about convertibles, “i don’t know about you but half of my life is in my car. if i had a convertible people could easily just take all of my stuff”
matt looked at you dumbfounded, “what are you on about kid?” you looked up at him with admiration on your face.
“im telling them how i feel about convertibles. look they’re mad that you interrupted me.” you pointed at the chat. they were all waiting for you to finish your thought. “this is why we don’t like men guys, they just like to interrupt and be the center of attention”
matt cut you off before you could go on another tangent. “okay, we all know they love when you come on here, but let’s play fortnite.”
you looked at matt trying to hold yourself back. you looked at the camera and gave them a wink.
“what”
“… that’s what she said”
you stood up when you noticed something on the shelf about matt’s desk.
“dude you ass is in my face, and your…boobs… are in the camera” he said awkwardly as he pulled your arm for you to sit back down. he waited to see what you grabbed.
“don’t act like it’s the first time my ass has been in your face,” you sat down holding up your space camp lipbalm to the camera. “shameless plug. go buy it right now. immediately. instantly.”
you applied the chapstick as matt looked at you with puckered lips. he was expecting you to apply the lipbalm on him but instead you gave matt a kiss with a giggle.
“okay so fortnite” matt said trying to get you back on track, blushing.
“yes yes let’s do it” you replied.
“do you know how to use the controller?”
“yes sir, i think i do”
matt looked at you with a raised eyebrow in question. you didn’t let up though, you were sure you could figure out how to use the controller in secret.
“so you have to start by picking a character.”
“i’m indecisive. can you pick for me?” you said with a smile.
“no babe, you got it just pick one.” matt said with a chuckle. he set his chin in your shoulder to get a better look.
“i’m gonna go bonkers if i have to make decisions this whole time, matt”
“no there’s just one i promise. everything else is preloaded from me so you don’t have to worry,” he leaned forward to kiss your neck lovingly.
“i love when you make things easy for me. thanks baby.” you said taking your hand off the controller for a second to lace your arm through matt’s.
matt and you had been together for a while now, and with you both having lives on the internet a lot of your relationship was public.
the fans went crazy for anything related to the two of you. they loved you guys together. you had very different personalities, but it seemed to click flawlessly. they always said that opposites attract.
while matt was more reserved, you tended to speak your mind and talk about anything and everything. you were a certified yapper and proud of it, baby. your yapping kept the fans fed on the insides of yours and matt’s relationship. consensually of course.
“okay, so you’re just going to drop in and see what happens”
“what do you mean drop in? im just letting myself fall?” you were very confused on the workings of video games.
“yep, now just make sure you aware of your surroundings”
“making sure i’m aware of my surroundings, got it. i’m just gonna run over here and see what i can find.” you drowned on.
things went smoothly for a couple minutes. you managed to stay alive and not show that you really didn’t know what you were doing with the gaming controller.
all of a sudden you heard distant shots being fired from behind you. not thinking anything of it you kept of running about.
“y/n they’re shooting at you.”
“oh! wait what? where?” you had no clue what was happening. things were going by so fast.
“turn around and shoot at them.”
“matt what?” he was trying to point to where they were on your screen. “dude i don’t even know how to shoot”
“what! i thought you said you knew how to use the controller”
“yeah well i lied” you said panicked.
“these teenage boys are probably laughing at me and that’s a scary thought. teenage boys are scary.” you whined.
you kept pressing random buttons trying to figure out how to fire back, but it was no use. you rushed and threw the controller in matt’s hands so he could take over.
he some how managed to get the kill and your player only ended up injured.
by this point you had given up on the attempts to play fortnite.
you let matt fully take over now. as he played a few more rounds you began to converse with the chat. answering questions and just rambling about some interesting topics.
“y/n what’s going on in your head right in this moment?” you read from the chat. “um, i was thinking about how i was vlogging earlier and there was a spider in my room. i simply couldn’t believe it. i trapped it, but i made matt come get it out of my house”
“that’s very true. i had to drive over there for moral support.”
“my knight in shining armor.” you smiled, looking up at him. “my handsome prince”
matt blushed from your comment as he finished the game he was in while you continued taking to the viewers. you guys decided to wrap things up 5 minutes later.
“how are you feeling now that you know kinda how to play?” matt questioned.
“i feel like i’d rather sit next to you and talk to the chat while you play then actually play myself. i think i’m more content watching you play, but it was a good experience. thank you for teaching me, baby” you kissed matt on the cheek as he began to end the stream.
“i’m gonna be honest, i was stressed for you.” matt stated.
“i was to anxious. i didn’t like having to be in high alert 24/7”
“alrighty, bye guys thanks for hanging out with us”
you blew a kiss to the camera as the filming came to an end.
“can we go to bed now,” you questioned matt as you stretched and got out of your chair.
“yeah of course we can” matt replied pulling you over to his mattress with him.
an: i hope you enjoy this. tbh i know nothing about fortnite so i hope this made sense and met your expectations 🤍🤍
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hugsandharrystyles · 2 days
Text
The Chase
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WORD COUNT: 1.2k
SUMMARY: Harry is obsessed with you (or your pussy).
Harry Styles would not stop following you.
You both had hooked up at a frat party two weeks ago in a dingy bathroom, and ever since, he's been searching for you everywhere.
Somehow, he's outside of all your classes, waiting for you so that he could try and woo you. His persuasions were overlooked because you were not in the mood for anything any college frat boy was trying to pull.
You had only come to this party because your friend had dragged you along with the promise of alcohol.
You seriously needed to get wasted and perhaps make out with a cute boy, but it was proving hard to do because of the chase you were involved in. As soon as you had walked in the door, you were on the run from Harry.
Right now, you were in the crowded kitchen, the room was glowing red from the solo cups taped on the lights, and it was definitely setting the mood for the horny college students.
You were filling your cup when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist in a secure hold.
"Baby, please," You heard begging in your ear, and then his crotch was grinding into your ass.
"Harry-" You begin, but you were cut off by the rolling of his hips again. "You realize how pathetic you are?" You said while laughing. He whined in your ear and squeezed you harder.
"Stop running from me," He counters. "Just come with me outside for bit, hm?" He asks.
"Harry-"
"Please," He begs.
"Fine," You huff and grab his hand to start walking outside. Harry has a shy, yet smug smile on his face as you drag him out of the house. People look and furrow their eyebrows at the two of you, but Harry does not care. He's whipped, and he knows it.
"Over here," He says and points to a lounge chair close to the bonfire. There's a decent amount of people around but not nearly as bad as inside. He sits down first and drags you to sit on his lap.
"Harry- Jesus," You sigh and adjust yourself. He buries his face in your neck and inhales you in.
"I've missed you," He breathes.
"Harry, we had one mediocre hook-up in a trashy frat bathroom," You remind him.
"Mediocre?!" That had gotten his attention. He adjusts you to where he can see your face better. "That was the best sex of my life," He tells you.
"Well, that's sad," You inform him, and he has to physically stop his jaw from dropping.
"What in the hell are you talking about? I made you cum," He reminds you, but your face sours. "Didn't I?" You shake your head and suppress the smile that wants to appear on your face from this boy getting humbled. "But- But you told me you came," He questions you.
"Yeah, so I could get out of there," You couldn't hold back the small chuckle that escapes you that time. "Harry, don't get me wrong, you aren't bad and definitely are the biggest I've ever been with, but maybe you need to work on your stamina," You explain and run your fingers through his hair because of his pitiful face.
"Well, it's not my fault you have this magical pussy!" He says a bit too loud. Some people look over with incredulous looks on their faces, and you punch his shoulder. "Couldn't help it when you're so wet, tight, and fucking warm- Oh, God," He groans as if remembering. His nose is back in your neck and arms around your body, squeezing once again. "Smell so good and so soft too," He says as he squeezes the extra plush on your body, something you're usually insecure about but feel super confident with the way this boy is drooling for you.
"You've gone mad," You resort to.
"I don't care," He rebuts. You roll your eyes and pat his back.
"Ay, Styles! Look at you fuckin' whipped," You hear one of his annoying frat brothers call out to the two of you.
"And fucking what about it?" He snaps back, and you see the arrogant meathead cower down in his seat.
"Harry, maybe we should-"
"Go to my room, so I can actually take care of you?" He offers.
"I'll give you one more shot," You sigh, and his head perks up like he didn't expect you to say that.
"Actually?" He says and is about to jump to his feet.
"My clock is ticking," You sigh, and suddenly, you're being thrown over his shoulder, and he's running into the house and up the stairs to his bedroom. Hoots, hollers, and whistles are thrown to both of you, but neither of you are paying attention to it. You're immediately thrown on the bed when you get into his room. Harry had locked the door, so no one will be interrupting the two of you.
"I'm going to eat you out," he says breathlessly. "Should punish me for how rude I was to you last time. Didn't eat you out or make you cum- fuck, I'm sorry," He pants and rips your skirt and shoes off your body. His mouth is about to press against your puffy pussy through your underwear when you stop him.
"Wait," you say and hold his hair to stop him.
"What?" He whines and dramatically drops his face into the bed.
"You're right," you tell him and yank on his hair to get his attention.
"About what, baby?" He whines in impatience.
"You should be punished," You agree and sit up, pulling your body away from him. His jaw drops and his face is like you've just stabbed him.
"Are you- are you serious?" He asks and starts to inch his way closer to you.
"I mean, you're the one who said it. I'll be nice and still have sex with you, but I have one rule," you tell him and press your foot against his chest to keep him away.
"Anything. Anything at all- I swear," He assures you, and you smile.
"You're not allowed to touch me," you say, and he scoffs.
"You can't be serious," He pants.
"It's this or nothing," you say and start to get up from the bed.
"No, no, please, I'll do it. I'll do it," He promises.
"You're pathetic," you laugh, and he glares at you. "Wipe that look off your face," You scold him, voice surprisingly dominating, and he immediately does. It's hilarious the power you seem to have over this arrogant frat boy. "Sit against the headboard," you tell him, and he doesn't think twice before doing what you say. You get up and start rummaging through his closet.
"What- what are you doing?" He asks, trying to stay still in his spot, but his curiosity is getting the best of him. Once you have what you were looking for, you turn and approach him, your hands hiding the object behind your back.
"Get up," You command, and he jumps off the bed. "Take your clothes off," you say further. He rips everything off besides his boxers. "I didn't say stop, big boy," you tell him, and he blushes. He sheepishly pulls down his underwear and fights the urge to cover himself. Your smirk deepens as you gaze over his body. "On the bed," You command, and as he leans himself against the headboard, you rid yourself of the rest of your own clothes. Harry's eyes cloud over as his eyes take you in. You're truly the most enthralling woman he's ever met.
"Thank you," He whispers as you straddle his lap, his hands gently rest on your plushy thighs. You almost feel bad for what you are about to do, but your horniness brings you out of it.
"Very sweet," you say and place a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He moans lightly and tries to turn his head to fully capture your lips, but you move away at the perfect time. You take his hands in yours and tie them together with the tie you found in his closet. His eyes widen and his cheeks flush even deeper. "This okay?" You ask and run your fingers through his hair.
"Y-Yes. Never done something like this before, but it's v-very okay," He assures you and tips his head back when you start kissing at the skin on his neck. His hands that are tied together twitch on his stomach and reach to where his dick lays, playing with himself for some much-needed stimulation. His moans get louder, and he feels cum drip from his thick pink tip.
"The fuck are you doing?" You suddenly ask, straightening yourself in time to see Harry playing with himself.
"I'm- I'm sorry. It's just- I'm really fucking horny, and it hurts," He tries to explain but you roll your eyes and scoff.
"You know, this is why I haven't let you fuck me again. Fuckin' selfish," You mock, and he shakes his head.
"No- No, I'm not. Please," He whines, his hand straining against the tie. "Don't go, please," He begs. You stare down at him intensely, and he has no choice but to cower under your glare. Out of nowhere, you suddenly drop yourself down onto his length, rubbing and sliding against where it lays against his stomach. "Oh!" He gasps as he feels your hot wet pussy slide over him.
"I'm going to take what I want from you," You decide and place your hands against his chest to get a better form. Your tight hole begins to catch itself on his tip when you push down on him, and you see Harry biting his lip so hard you think it might bleed. You continue sliding your pussy over him until his dick is twitching and leaking with cum.
"You got to stop if you don't want me to cum," he says, his voice strained and tight.
"You need to work on your stamina," you remind him and grab his cock, positioning him with your tight entrance.
"Oh, God- Oh, God," He chants as you slide his tip in. His hips stagger, making him slide in a bit deeper, so you press on his stomach to keep him down.
"Easy," You command, and he looks as if he could cry. You fuck yourself on the tip of his cock, getting your entrance to spread, but he's just so fucking big. You look down at him, and he has that same fucked out expression on his face. "Don't you fucking dare," you say and begin to insert more of him into you.
"Then fucking stop!" He whines. He almost cries when he feels your fingers squish into his cheeks, making him look into your eyes.
"You're not making the fucking rules here, frat boy. I told you if I was going to do this again, it was going to be by my terms, not yours, so shut the fuck up and stay still," You command, and you see tears gather in his eyes. You roll your eyes and slide down on him even further, about halfway in now. He chokes on a sob of pleasure and strains his fists in his lap.
"I'm sorry," he says before you feel his hips buck up into yours and his heavy load spurting into your pussy. The sensation almost makes you cum, but you push it away so you can see his pretty face as he orgasms. His body is trembling, and it feels like his high lasts forever. He feels you untie his wrists, and he subconsciously flexes them out of their stiff position. His breathing is rapid as he comes down, and a smile is graced across his lips until he feels you start bouncing on his sensitive cock again. "Oh, fuck! What are you doing-"
"I didn't come, asshole," You spit and grind yourself on his hardening dick.
"I'm too s-sensitive," He slurs, his hips tensing away and his hands coming up to grab your plushy hips. His mouth his dropped, and his head falls back. "I might be in love with you," He gasps, and you laugh.
"Shut up," You giggle, but you are cut off when his hips thrust up into you and his fingers come down to play with your clit. "Fuck, your dick is too good," You moan and don't have time to react before you're shoved onto your back, Harry above you. His hands push your thighs to your chest, and his hips piston into your squelching cunt. "Oh!" You gasp and suddenly feel your own orgasm starting to arrive.
"Cum for me, please cum on my dick," He begs and brings one hand to your mouth to pry it open before spitting directly into your mouth. "Swallow," He whispers. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he pounds into your pussy like an animal.
"I'm gonna fucking cum," You almost scream and start to shake.
"I'm filling your pussy again," Harry moans and grounds himself into you, basically sitting on you and filling you with all of his fat cock. Your hand instinctually reaches out and pushes at his toned stomach, but the weight of him, and the feeling of him deep inside your body only makes your orgasm so much better.
"So deep," You whisper and squirm.
"Take it, take it," he almost begs as he cums, his own orgasm shooting inside of you and sticking you two together. You're both shaking at the intensity of your orgasms.
Sounds of panting fill the room as you both settle. Harry flops down onto your chest, and you reach around to rub at his back, very well-aware of his half-hard dick still deep inside you.
"You're hard already?" You ask.
"Wanna go again?"
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sometimesanalice · 11 hours
Text
Between Friends
Summary: Bradley and you don’t talk about that Spring Break. But a single question asked during a night out at the Hard Deck might just change things between the two of you forever.
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader
Length: 11K
Warning: smut (including loss of virginity), brief mention of underage drinking, and college!bradley in a backwards hat
(Author's note: Happy Birthday Jordan! I wrote this just for you! Look at me keeping secrets from you! Enjoy!)
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𝐍𝐎𝐖
Rooster couldn’t control his bouncing leg.
That night at the Hard Deck had started out like any other: good music, good drinks, good people. Over the course of the evening, he’d found himself seated between you and Bob in a lopsided circle with the rest of the Daggers around a few tall tables that had been pushed together just shooting the shit.
It was all fun and games until swapping stories about embarrassing middle school moments turned into cringing over first kiss stories turned into Seresin grinning like a shark asking about how everyone’s first time went down.
Rooster felt his pulse kick up with every collective laugh and groan as his friends went one by one sharing how they’d lost their virginities. Because with each passing story, it meant that you were one person closer to going. And for the first time in his life- even after over two decades of friendship- he didn’t know what your answer was going to be.
So he is just as shocked as his teammates are when you tentatively reveal, “So, um, my first time was with Rooster.” He doesn’t miss the way all his friends’ heads snap towards him. 
All eyes are on the two of you, and you’re pointedly looking anywhere but him.
Rooster had been anxiously waiting to hear the story of your first official time, the one that was with someone who wasn’t him. He didn’t realize that you still considered him your first.  He’d figured that part of your history had long been overwritten by whoever had been lucky enough to catch your eye and make your heart race in a romantic way.
The two of you had never talked about it in the after.
Not once, not ever.
He didn’t care that people knew, he just wasn’t expecting it.
Jake starts the group out of its stunned silence by slapping a heavy hand on top of the table, nearly sending some bottles to the floor, “I knew it! I knew y’all couldn’t have been friends all this time and not have tried it out at least once.”
“Jesus Christ, dude, chill,” Javy mutters. He’s always been the better of the two about reading the room.
Trying to spare you from being put on the spot even more than you already were now, Rooster mumbles through the way he’d lost his to a girl from his AP Econ class after a playoff baseball game.
He stares at the way you’re nervously picking at the label of the Blue Moon he’d grabbed for you when he went to get a refill of his own. He can practically hear the way your brain is buzzing. He wonders if you wish you could take back the words from where they are sitting on the table with the collection of bottles and peanut shells for everyone to see.
Bob being the team player that he is starts talking about how he’d lost his one summer in college to another camp counselor, going into more detail than he’s ever given before, probably trying to redirect the attention to himself to give the two of you a moment to regroup.
Rooster makes a mental note to tell Penny to put all of Bob’s cream sodas from now on on his own tab.
He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do here. Or where to look. Or where to put his hands. He wants to talk to you, but there’s no good way for him to go about it without drawing even more attention to the two of you.
You were supposed to be going on a first date tonight, but he’d talked you into canceling to hang out with him instead. He likes having all of your attention on him. And maybe he’s been a little selfish with you, because he doesn’t like to share you with anyone else. You’ve always been his best friend.
Rooster likes that he gets to talk to you whenever he wants now, and that it doesn’t feel like a never-ending game of catch up anymore. In the year since the Uranium mission, he’d felt like all the fragmented pieces of his life had finally come together. He’d reconnected with Mav, he was living in the same city as his best friend, and he had a place he could finally call home.
He didn’t just want the highlights with you, he wanted everything in between too. There’s no more distance due to time zones and scheduling times to call because now you only live 20 minutes away from him. And the next time he comes home from a deployment, he knows he’ll get to look forward to seeing you there waiting for him.
He feels like he’s learned so much more about the grown-up version of you over the last year than he has in the last ten.
Jake jumps in barely a breath after Bob finishes telling his story. “Well, we all know it’s not the first who matters, but who was the best.” Rooster doesn’t trust the gleam in his eyes or the sharp smile on his face. “Since Bradshaw cut you off before, how’s about you go first this time, darlin’. You can tell us about who knocked your socks off. Maybe this time he’ll let you finish, if you know what I mean.”
It’s thinly veiled snooping disguised as chivalry, and it doesn’t fool anyone. Nat’s eyes dart to him briefly, trying to get a read on him.
He’d been 21 at the time. And while he knows more now that he did then, he also knows his name isn’t going to be coming out of your mouth for a second time tonight.
Rooster takes a sip of his beer, needing something to do.
He knows you’ve been with other people. You’d lived with your ex for over a couple years, for fuck's sake. But it was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you to not talk about your sex lives with each other.
His leg starts bouncing again and he realizes he really doesn’t want to hear this. Not because of his ego, but because he doesn’t know what to do about the knot that’s formed in his stomach.
Your mouth opens and closes a couple times before you speak, “That title would also go to Rooster.” The admission is soft, but sure. 
Where his heart had been pounding before, now it feels like it had stopped completely.
It’s been 13 years since that Spring Break. 13 years and he’s still your best?
Barely five minutes ago, he hadn’t known where to look. But now? Now he couldn’t stop staring at you.
He just didn’t understand why you still wouldn’t look at him back.
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𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊, 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎
When you’d floated the idea by Bradley about visiting him at UVA for Spring Break during your weekly phone call, you’d been braced for the disappointment of him already having plans. It was his Senior year, it wouldn’t surprise you if he wanted to go out with a bang and make the most of it. Especially since he would belong to the Navy soon enough.
But he’d taken you by surprise when he started enthusiastically listing off all the places he wanted to show you, planning out your trip like a well-seasoned travel agent before you’d even booked a plane ticket.
You’d started looking up airfare before you’d even hung up the phone. And thirty minutes later you had a confirmation email flagged in your inbox after elatedly charging that aisle seat to the credit card you only used for emergencies.
It had been close to a year since you’d last seen him. He usually spent his Winter Break with your family, but this year he’d stayed on campus for the holidays and it was the longest the two of you had ever been apart since you’d first met him when you were 8.
And maybe that’s why it took you so long to spot him in the Arrivals area of the Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport.
You’ve always prided yourself in being able to pick Bradley out of a crowd anywhere, but in your cursory glance you hadn’t recognized the tall, broad guy with the UVA shirt pulled taut across his chest and wearing a baseball hat backward on his head. It wasn’t until your third searching pass that you’d caught the lips that were quirked up in amusement and those familiar brown eyes trained on you as he leaned ever-so-casually against the faux wood paneling on the wall waiting for you to notice him.
He’d filled out in the months since you’d last seen him. He was more toned than you remembered him being with definition in places where there hadn’t been before. His face had more distinct angles and less baby fat cushioned curves. Still a bit boyish, but he was well on his way to looking like a man.
Bradley raised his hand like he was going to wave, but then he’d mimicked casting a fishing line in your direction and reeling it in. And it was so endearingly stupid- so him- that you couldn’t help but take the bait and made your way towards him with the biggest grin on your face.
You’d ignored the jittery flutter in your stomach as you’d weaved between people and luggage. You’ve never been nervous around your best friend before. There was something that had on your mind a lot as the days to your visit inched closer, but you’d shoved that out of your mind, because you were finally standing in front of him in person for the first time in months. 
“Hey, kid,” he’d greeted you, taking your bag, “Charlottesville must have known you were coming, because she’s going to be sunny for you all week.” As soon as you were within arm’s reach, he tugged you right into his chest for a hug. You could feel the unspoken I missed you in the way he squeezed you just that bit tighter before releasing you.
Then he was dropping an arm over your shoulders and steering you towards the exit and driving you into town in the beat-up car he’d bought after selling his prized Montero, the car that Mav had given him for his birthday.
You’re only there for a week and Bradley doesn’t waste a single moment of it.
After dropping your things off in his dorm room, he takes you straight to campus where he gives you the Official Bradley Bradshaw Certified UVA Tour. He buys you lunch from one of the food trucks in the Amphitheater “for sustenance” before taking you to see the highlights. You start with the Rotunda and then the academic village, making a special pitstop at the Whispering Wall for you to tell it a secret. And then he takes you on a more historical tour, like showing you the exact route he used to streak The Lawn and pointing out the place he’d puked after his 21st birthday.
It’s clear he’d put so much thought into your visit because it seems like there is never a down moment. By the end of the third day you’re more surprised that you don't wake up every morning with a printed itinerary on your pillow.
He sneaks you into the Slaughter Rec Center to rock climb, claiming he had a person on the inside with the right connections. But really from what you could tell, the pretty girl at the check-in counter clearly had a crush on him. He takes you to the batting cages he likes to go to before Dead Week, and spends the time there equal parts making fun of your power swing and trying to fix it.
You get your revenge the next day standing outside of the imposing columns and massive doors to the Fralin Art Museum. Skeptically eyeing the sculpture in the front of the building that kind of looked like a giant wisdom tooth, you mentioned, “I didn’t realize you’d become such a patron of the cultural arts.”
“Hey now, I like artsy shit,” he’d said, only mildly affronted.
You snorted at that. “Is there an exhibit on beer pong and blunt rolling you wanted to see?” Through the window you’d spotted some large landscape oil paintings in ornate gilded frames and carved marble busts of what you assumed were probably of some of the Founding Fathers.
“You just missed that one, it was last month,” Bradley lobbed back, opening the door for you.
“What a pity,” you’d said with a dramatic sigh, “Guess we’ll have to settle for some tasteful nudes instead.”
“If we’re lucky,” he’d muttered under his breath, as you passed under his arm.
And then you’d felt the corners of your mouth kick up.
Turning around you’d pressed your finger to his chest, whispering so the person behind the ticket desk didn’t hear you, “Twenty bucks says you don’t make it thirty minutes in there.”
He narrowed his eyes, taking in your sly grin, “You’re on, kid.”
It’s the easiest $20 you’ve ever made.
The two of you call it a truce only after he tips your kayak into the still chilly Rivanna River.
Later that night, he takes you to a party on “Mad Bowl” that one of his frat friends was hosting. The backyard was all strung up with red and green Christmas lights like they had been too lazy to take them down after the holidays and decided it added to the outdoor ambiance instead of packing them away.
He was still just as protective over you as he was back in high school. Spending the whole night keeping an eye on you and handing you drinks that he’d uncapped himself using the opener that he had on his keychain, the one that still had the little fighter jet charm you’d given him ages ago dangling from it.
The days pass all too quickly as he shows you all of his favorite spots.
You knew UVA wasn’t where he’d originally wanted to be- where he thought he’d be- but you were happy that he seemed happy here.
But in between the late-night microwave ramen and movie watching and crossing off all the things on Bradley’s Spring Break To-Do List, there’d been something you’d been wanting to talk to him about. But you were having so much fun with him, you’d missed your best friend over those long months apart, and you didn’t want to ruin the time you had left with him here.
It lingered at the back of your mind like a phantom hair that you can feel, but can’t ever seem to brush off no matter how many times you attempt to. You felt like you were waiting for the right time that you weren’t sure would ever come. And if you were being honest, you weren’t entirely sure you would even be brave enough to ask if the time came.
The two of you had woken up way before the sun this morning.
If anyone other than Bradley had asked you to wake up before 5 AM to go hike to watch the sunrise, you would have laughed at them. But because it was Bradley, you’d set the alarm without comment. Even though he did have to gently pry you out of his roommate’s bed- with the fresh sheets he told you he bought especially for your visit- and lace up your shoes for you.
The views at Humpback Rock had been worth the hour hike up to the outcrop of craggy rocks. The sunrise painted them a stunning shade of soft orange as the rays illuminated evergreen covered hills and valleys that extended in front of you to the skyline. You and Bradley watched it in silence, shoulders pressed against each other  as you took it all in.
You’re cozied up on your bed for the week, flipping through a book you’d brought with you, but hadn’t touched at all until now when Bradley comes back from the showers. His hair is still damp and the ends are starting to curl a bit.  
He drops a Styrofoam cup of coffee on the nightstand next to you.
You hadn’t been sure what rooming with him would be like, the two of you together 24/7 since his roommate had left to go home for the break.  But it felt like you were two kids at sleepaway camp getting away with mischief rather than two broke college students only pretending to get away with mischief.
He sits down at the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his thighs, “So.”
“So?” you repeat, blowing on the hot coffee before taking a sip.
“Are you going to tell me what’s been up with you?”
You wince, and it’s not because the coffee tastes like tar. 
“What do you mean?” you try to ask casually.
Bradley gives you a look that says you don’t fool me, kid. “You’ve been squirrely. I didn’t want to press it, but I can tell there’s something on your mind.” He takes a sip of his own milky battery acid. “Are classes going better since you switched majors?”
You nod, looking anywhere else other than at him.
“How are things with your Dad?”
You offer him a shrug.
He sighs your name in exasperation. You can tell he is trying to tamper his frustration at your lack of cooperation.
“Is it a guy?” Bradley tries again.
You swear you feel your heart stop, because you knew what you wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know how he was going to take it.
You fiddle with a string on his roommate’s comforter. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” you admit, tentatively, “But I’m nervous.”
Bradley’s eyebrows pull together as he sets his coffee aside, “C’mon, it’s just me. You can talk to me about anything.”
“It’s more of a question.” One you’re still deflecting from asking.
“Ok, well you know you can ask me anything.” His tiny dorm room feels even smaller as the two of you try to read the other’s face.
Taking a deep breath, you ask the question that’s been rattling around in your brain for weeks.
“Bradley, I was wondering if you’d be my first?”
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Less than ten words. That’s all it takes to tilt Bradley’s world off its axis.
He’s loved getting to show you around UVA this week. It wasn’t where he thought he’d end up, but he hadn’t lost sight of where he was going. He was going to be a Naval Aviator one way or another. He just also got to have a normal college experience too, one he’d been excited to share with you.
Bradley had originally been invited to go stay with one of his friends at his family’s beach house, but when you called and asked about coming to visit Charlottesville, it was an easy choice for him. He’d pick you every time.
It had been even better getting to cross off some of the things on the bucket list he’d made for his Senior Year with you in tow, like the hike he’d taken you on this morning.
He loves the views from up there and thought it would be something you’d like too, but he’d never done the hike early enough to catch the sunrise before. It was actually something he was planning on going the morning of graduation as a symbolic way to end his time at UVA, but getting to do it with you was special in its own way.
And while he’d caught you lost in thought more than a few times over the last few days as he showed you around, he never in a million years would have ever expected you to ask him that.
Bradley knows all the words you just used, but they don’t make sense to him in that order.
His brain is working in overdrive trying to figure out if there is any possible way he could have misinterpreted you.
“Your first…”
You take another deep breath and tip your chin up in resolve before looking him dead in the eye, there’s so much vulnerability reflected in them, “I haven’t had sex before, Bradley. And I’m really hoping that my first time can be with you.”
Bradley wants to tell you to put your Styrofoam cup down because he’s worried the tight grip you have on it might crush it, but he feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.
He didn’t realize when his leg started bouncing until he sees you glance down at it.
Shooting to his feet and off his bed, he goes to lean against his recently decluttered desk. There’s too much restless energy coursing through him to just sit like he isn’t completely reeling. 
“Shouldn’t you want to do this with someone special? Like with rose petals and all that shit?” He scrubs a hand over his face. Rose petals and all that shit? God, he sounds like such a fucking dumbass, but he’s struggling to keep up.
And if he’s being entirely honest, he’s pretty surprised to learn you’re still a virgin. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but he knows you’ve had at least one serious boyfriend since you’ve gone to college. He figured that you got asked out all the time. He saw the way that some of the guys in his buddy’s frat were looking at the pretty girl with the dimples and big smile.
The girl who just asked him to be her first.
He hates the way your shoulders have slumped forward, like you’re trying not to cave in on yourself, “So, you don’t want to?”
“I didn’t say that.” His answer takes him by surprise.
The only other sound in the room other than his pounding heart is the whir of the air circulating in his dorm. 
“Would it help to make a pro con list?” you offer, less than helpfully with a little shrug.
“Jesus Christ,” Bradley mutters under his breath, looking up at the speckled ceiling trying to decode the flecks like tea leaves. “She’s cracking jokes like she didn’t ask me to make her come.”
“Technically, I didn’t say anything about that. I just asked you to be my first.”
“I’m not taking your virginity and not giving you an orgasm,” he states, and your eyes get wide. He runs his hands through his hair. “Sex makes things complicated, kid. We’ve got a good friendship.”
You sit up straighter on his roommate’s bed and bring your knees to your chest. It exposes the backs of your thighs and he has to shake the mental images of skin on skin out of his head.
There’s a look on your face that tells him you feel ridiculous even asking him, “Do you think you’re going to fall in love with me or something?”
“No,” Bradley says, honestly.
He knows you’re just trying to make a point.
The two of you have been friends for over a decade. He knows he cares about you- he always has- but he couldn’t imagine what anything other than just friendship would look like with you.
You nod in agreement, like you had been anticipating the answer before you’d even asked him the question.
“And do you think I’m going to fall in love with you?” you ask, your head tilting to the side.
He doesn’t even blink, “You can do better than me.”
And he means it.
Even if there was something more between the two of you, you’ve always been too good for him. And knowing him, he’d find a way to fuck it up. You’re the last person in the world he’d ever want to hurt. He’d let you down before, he doesn’t want to do it ever again.
You shoot him a disappointed look, like you don’t like hearing him say that about himself. And he’s oddly touched that you’re defending him against himself. 
“You’d literally be doing me a favor.”
Bradley is still surprised that he hasn’t ended this conversation yet. The two of you were supposed to go to the movies, but that definitely wasn’t happening now.
“I’m not saying no,” he says, “But I need you to help me understand. Why me? Why now?”
“Bradley, I want it to be with you because there’s no one else I’ll ever feel as comfortable with as I do with you,” you explain.
He watches as you unfold yourself and climb off the bed, coming to stand in front of him. You gingerly reach out and put your hand on his forearm, like you don’t want to startle him. Not that he’d be able to move anyways since it feels like the soles of his feet are cemented to the floor.
“I keep waiting for it to not feel like such a big thing, but every time it seems like it’s going to happen, I freeze. And I know you’d take care of me, and I’m not talking about orgasms.” You stumble over the word a bit, not fully meeting his eyes as you say it. “It’s scary enough as a girl and I’m worried I’m going to be too in my head with anyone else. But I also don’t want to look back and have any regrets, and I know I wouldn’t have any with you.”
The mention of regrets makes his stomach twinge. His heart feels like it’s hammering in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say.
You are looking at him with such open sincerity. He has never been good with talking about his feelings, he’s always been the type to bottle things up, while you have always worn your heart on your sleeve. It was just another way that you were braver than him.
“I know it’s a lot,” you say, letting go of him to take a step back, like you want to give him breathing room, “So if it’s too big of an ask. Or if it’s not something you’re comfortable with-”
Bradley shakes his head cutting you off, “It’s not that at all, kid. I just haven’t done this before.” Your eyebrow scrunches together in confusion. “I mean, I have,” he corrects, “But it’s not the same. All the girls I’ve been with had already had experience. And if we were going to do this, I would want to make sure it’s as nice for you as it can be.”
“So you’d be my first and I’d be yours? Well, kind of.” You give him a little smile, it’s a shy but hopeful thing. There’s only a hint of your dimples, but it’s enough. And he feels that practical part of him that had been holding back soften at the sight of it.
He doesn’t think he’s ever said no to you, excluding the times you tried to get him to give you his beer at the house parties he took you to in high school, and that was more out of self-preservation from a healthy fear of your mom than anything else.
When you wanted to learn how to drive a stick shift? He took you to the abandoned parking lot, it didn’t matter that you didn’t have your learner’s permit yet. When you wanted to learn how to throw a punch? He was making sure you knew not to tuck your thumb under your fingers, so that you didn’t break your own thumb instead of someone’s nose.
He’s always had your back and you’ve had his. That’s how it was between the two of you.
You’ve already said it, but he needs to hear it again, “You really want to do it?”
“I really want it to be you, Bradley. I really want to do this with you. I trust you the most.”
He’s always been willing to help you with anything you’ve ever asked of him, why should this be any different? What’s a couple orgasms between friends?
“Ok,” Bradley nods. If it’s to reassure you or himself, he couldn’t say. “I’ll do it. We can do it.”
Your eyebrows raise in surprise, like you were fully prepared for him to let you down gently, “Really?”
You didn’t ask for his why he was agreeing, but he was going to give it to you anyway.
“I don’t think I’ve told you this, but I lost mine to Samantha Prescod after the game against Centennial that got us a spot at State that year,” he waits until he sees the recognition cross your face before continuing, “But I had also just learned about my mom’s diagnosis and I was trying to find anything I could do to not think about it.” He rubs at a spot underneath his collarbone, it never got any easier talking about his mom. “I think she assumed that I’d done it before, because we didn’t really talk about it. She was there and into it, so it just sort of happened. Actually, I’m pretty sure she only slept with me because she wanted to make her ex-boyfriend jealous, because they got back together like three days later.”
It’s probably for the best that Samantha Prescod lives on the other side of the country now because you look livid. Your eyes spark with anger and disbelief on his behalf.
“It was years ago, it’s fine, kid” he shrugs, trying to brush off your concern. “But if I had a do-over, I don’t know if I’d make the same choice again. And that’s not something I’d ever want for you.” You deserve the rose petals, but he’ll do his best for you. “So we can do it, but I have one condition.”
The relief on your face and the way the tension in your shoulder releases only solidifies his decision.
“Tell me,” you say, taking a half-step towards him, “I want you to be comfortable too.”
Bradley pushes off his desk and meets you the rest of the way, “If you even think you’re feeling uncomfortable- about any of it- I need you to tell me. And we’ll stop and figure out where to go from there. If it’s a change of position, if it’s a full stop and order pizza instead, we’ll do that.” He pauses and reaches out to tip your chin up. “I’ll do whatever you need, got it?”
You throw your arms around him, and his wrap around you just as easily. Your hair smells like the travel sized shampoo he’d picked up for you, figuring you wouldn’t want to use his 2-in-1. You murmur your thank you into his shirt followed by a fuck Samantha Prescod that makes him squeeze you just a bit tighter to him in affection.
When you step back and look at him, your lips twitch upwards, “What’s with the look, Bradshaw? Don’t tell me you’re going to lie back and think of England?”
That makes him chuckle, your joke lightening the mood in only the way that you can do. He rolls his eyes in equal parts exasperation and fondness.
“God, I haven’t been this nervous since I lost my own virginity. I was so stressed I was going to blow my load in two pumps and lose my street cred.”
You snort and send him a smirk, “Well, you must have done just fine. I overheard some glowing reviews in the girl’s bathroom on more than one occasion.”
“I maybe lasted ten trusts, but I had the good sense to eat her out after,” he admits, and then tacks on for good measure, “I’ve gotten better since then.”
“What a stud,” you tease.
This is easier, this feels like the two of you. This should be fun, it shouldn’t feel serious. He can make it good for you.
You look up at him shyly from under your lashes, “So how do we do this?”
He feels like he only just wrapped his head around the idea of it, but now he was facing the very real possibility of seeing you very naked very soon.
“You want to do it now?” Bradley blinks.
“I mean, if you’re up for it.” You scrunch your nose when you realize you’ve made a terrible double entendre. “No pun intended, I promise.”  
He wipes his hands on his pants.
“You sure?” he asks again.
“I’m sure, Bradley. As long as you are too.”
He nods, “Then I guess we just…”
He’s not sure where he was going to go with that. But he’s spared from being roasted by you for making some sure to be lame birthday suit joke because you’re untying the bow on the soft lounge shorts you’d thrown on after your shower from the hike, and all the words get trapped in his throat.
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You don’t look at Bradley as you slide your shorts down your legs. And you definitely don’t look at him when you pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in only a soft green mesh bra and your cotton underwear. They’re mismatched, but sex with Bradley wasn’t originally on the Spring Break To-Do List agenda for today.
In fact, you hadn’t even been sure you were going to go through with asking him until he brought up the point that he knew you had something on your mind because you apparently had no poker face.
While it felt like you had a swarm of butterflies whirling in your stomach, you also knew wholeheartedly that this was the right choice for you. Everything he had said had solidified that for you.
You weren’t sure how you were ever going to thank him for this, but you had a lifetime of friendship with Bradley to figure it out.
His room cast in the soft afternoon light, the blinds only partly closed. There are little streaks of gold that line the plaid comforter on his bed. He’d been right, Charlottesville had stayed sunny just for you.
As you climb into it and situate yourself against his pillows, you can help but notice just how much his bed smells like him. It’s not the spicy scent you associated with the High School version of him. The woodsy and warm scent embedded in the threads of his sheets suits this grown up version of him.
You feel equal parts overdressed and underdressed in your bra and underwear. You know the latter are going to come off eventually, so you make a split-second decision to just take them off yourself under his covers. The idea of Bradley helping you to pull them off later seems like it would be too intimate based on the way the thought of it makes your cheeks heat up.
It’s practical, you’re being practical, you think to yourself.
You chance a peek at him and are surprised to see that he hasn’t budged an inch. It’s almost like he is waiting for you to get completely settled before he dares to move a muscle. His eyes are trained on the pile of your clothes on the floor, he looks lost in thought.
“Bradley?”
The sound of your voice seems to kickstart him into action.
He shucks off his shirt in that kind of reckless way that seems to be ingrained in boys and then unbuttons his pants. You’re torn between feeling like you should give him privacy and wanting to watch. What you were expecting is the way he takes the time to pick his clothes up before folding them over the back of the chair at his desk.
Your mouth goes dry as you take in the sight of his body, the diffused light perfectly outlines the shape of him. His broad shoulders are rounded with the muscles he’s gained from whatever exercises the NROTC has been putting him through. Your eyes dip down to his defined chest and over the ridges of his abs. You’ve seen him in swim trunks plenty of times, but seeing the way the muscles of his thick thighs fill out the black boxer briefs he was wearing was entirely new to you.
Bradley approaches you and then pauses as he bends down to collect your pile of clothes on the floor, his hand hesitating only for a second when he reaches for your underwear. He drapes all of your things on top of his on the chair and makes his way back to you.
The gesture makes you melt a little like a soft serve ice cream cone on a summer afternoon.
You lift the corner of the cover for Bradley and he climbs in next to you. You move closer to the wall, trying to make more room for the bulk of him in his small bed, and he shifts in even closer into you until your bodies pressed tight against one another. The curves and angles of the two of you slotting together like pieces of a puzzle.
It feels like the two of you are teetering there on the edge of something. You both know exactly where it’s going, but are unsure of how to make it from Point A to Point B. Both waiting on the other person to make the first move.
He rests his warm hand on your stomach, the muscles there jumping on their own under his touch in anticipation. Your faces are close since you’re sharing his pillow. His brown eyes are searching yours, probably looking for any sign of hesitation that you don’t feel.
“Tell me how you’re feeling.” It’s not a question, but a request.
“Overwhelmed,” you admit, “But in a good way.” He runs his palm lightly up your stomach and back down, soothingly.
“Good, that’s good,” Bradley says, clearing his throat, “You’re supposed to feel a little ‘overwhelmed, but in a good way.’” You feel your lips pull up at his gentle teasing.
He smiles softly at you. His face has always been so familiar to you. The pink from his scars have finally faded, but you wonder when his eyes start crinkling around the corners.
You let go of the comforter to run a finger down the top of his nose, “I don’t know how this has stayed so straight.” He’d been in more than a couple fights in his teen years, including one that had sent him through a sliding glass door.
“Probably the combination of a little luck and the fact that none of those guys could throw a punch,” Bradley smirks. He shifts on his side, propping himself up on an elbow looking down at you, still running his hand along your stomach. “What have you done so far?”
His fingertips circle your bellybutton and your stomach swoops like it’s on the swing carousel ride at the fair.
“Some over the clothes stuff…” you stammer. You’re having trouble focusing because all your attention is on his big hand and how it feels against your oversensitive skin. “And I have a vibrator, but ah…”
You’re so keenly aware of his hand. With every lazy circle he makes, he has you wondering if this is going to be the one where he finally moves his hand lower. That part of you in flutters in expectation because you know it’s coming.
You let out a shaky huff when his fingers trails back up your stomach.
“What is it?” Bradley’s hand stops moving. “What are you thinking?”
“Honestly?” you say, trying not to squirm, “I’m getting really horny and you keep teasing me.”
He presses his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh at your overshare, and there’s amusement in his eyes.
“You know, some people call it foreplay,” he drawls. You’d roll your eyes but his fingertips are by your bellybutton again and you want him to keep going. “You ready for more?” You nod a few times because if he doesn’t touch you soon you might just crawl out of your skin. “Ok, gonna stop ‘teasing’ you now.”
This time his hand doesn’t stop at your bellybutton, it keeps moving down, down.
You stutter over a breath when Bradley’s fingers touch your clit. You feel yourself melt a little further into his mattress. He’s making easy circles, letting you get used to someone’s fingers other than your own on the most sensitive part of you. Your hands are clutching tightly to his comforter, unsure of what else to do with them.
“Spread your legs a little wider for me,” he murmurs. You feel your face heat up. He’d just given you a direction, but it sounds almost indecent coming out of his mouth.
You shift, moving your legs apart further for him, until he secures your left between his own, opening you up even more. You know you’re wet and now he does too. Bradley’s fingers slide easily over you as he increases the pressure on your clit. You can feel the intensity of his gaze on you watching for your reaction as he figures out what you like the most.
It doesn’t take him long to learn your body. You don’t know whether to be impressed with him or embarrassed with yourself at how quickly he’s worked you up.
Your breathing feels so loud in your ears in the quiet room, every breath and sigh is amplified. There’s a certain thrill in not knowing how he’s going to touch you next, your own fingers pale in comparison now.
His warm breath coasts down the side of your neck causing you to shiver at the sensation. It makes goosebumps break out along your arms and your nipples pull taut.
He notices. Of course he notices.
“Are you cold?” His voice is low in your ear.
“No, I-” Oh god, you’re right there. “B-bradley, I’m-” You’ve made yourself orgasm plenty of times, but you’ve never shared that part of yourself with anyone else before. No one knows what you sound like or what you look like when you come. But now, Bradley was going to have the piece of you too. A whine escapes you without your permission.
“It’s ok, kid, I’ve got you.”
You’re seeking and searching, but it’s Bradley’s fingers that have the answer.
And you come with your stomach twitching and hips jerking as he murmurs praise in your ear.
His fingers slow down, featherlight on your clit, but your heart is still racing when he rasps, “There’s one, you up for another?”
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Bradley loves that moment during sex when he hears that first gasp or moan. He loves learning what sounds of satisfaction he can pull from his partner. He loves knowing he earned it. But he never in his life could have ever anticipated hearing those sounds from you.
In his bed. Because of him.
He didn’t expect the lick of heat that curled up his spine at the shape of your legs and the curve of your ass as you were stepping out of your shorts. He’d never seen anything so strangely endearing as it was watching you shimmy your underwear off under the shield of his covers.
Every hitch in your breath made his blood run hotter in his veins. He was trying to control his cock, but he’d started getting hard the second you’d pulled your shirt off. Your bra was some kind of sheer thing that left nothing to the imagination, and while he wasn’t trying to check you out- because that’s not how it was between the two of you- he couldn’t help the way his eyes flickered down.
You’re slippery, wet, and warm. And he knows he can make you come again.
“Do you want me to use my fingers now?”
You crack an eye open at him, it’s the first time you’ve opened your eyes since he first touched you. Your eyes are bright in that way that only comes with an orgasm. “I thought you already were.”
“Such a smartass,” he grins.
Bradley changes the unhurried circles he’d been making on your clit to the upstroke that made your hips jerk up into his hand the first time he’d tried it. The little noises you’re making have him fighting the urge to grind himself against you for some relief of his own. He’s still got your knee tucked between his own; where there had been a hint of polite space between your bodies, the way you’re writhing now has him pressed up against your hip.
You gasp, breathily, “Oh, you’re hard.” The disbelief is evident in your voice, but it’s the look in your eyes that he doesn’t know what to make of, something like surprise.
He’s been trying to be a gentleman, this is about you and not him. There might not be anything romantic happening between the two of you, but this was hot and he was more than a little turned on. And he knows you are too because he can feel how wet you are under his fingers.
“’Course I am,” Bradley says, nudging his nose against your temple, “I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed half naked.” He didn’t want you to feel like you were in this on your own, so he lightly rocks against you. He wants you to feel him, he wants you to know he is into this too. “Are you ready more?”
“I’m ready, I want more,” you confirm, wrapping your hand around his bicep.
Your breath hitches as he teases you with just the tip of his finger.
He’s been told before he has big hands and thick fingers, he’s always taken it as a compliment in the past, but now he’s scanning your face for any trace of discomfort as he sinks one into you.
Your eyebrows twitch then smooth out and your mouth drops open as he starts pumping his finger into you in a smooth rhythm.
“That feels nice,” you sigh, airily.
He knows you like it when your hips tip up just a fraction. His comforter is bunched around your waist and your nipples are peaked against the see-through fabric of your bra. He gets his thumb on your clit and you whimper as you tentatively roll your hips against his fingers.
Bradley hums his approval, “Atta girl. There you go, find what feels good for you.” His voice sounds low even to his own ears, a throaty rumble. He feels you clench around his fingers and it sets his pulse racing. It’s a piece of information he tucks away for himself.
He’s gentle on your clit, but now that he knows you’re into it he’s setting a more purposeful pace with his fingers.
You’ve got your bottom lip pinned between your teeth, like you’re trying to swallow down your sounds. He didn’t realize how much he liked hearing these new sounds from you until you started trying to muffle them. On the next slide of his finger into you, he knows exactly what he’s looking for.
You suck in a sharp breath of surprise when he finds it.
“Is that the right spot, kid?” He sounds so smug. You curse and your hand clutches at his shoulder. “You want to try a second finger?” he murmurs into your ear.
“Yes,” you rock into his hand, “Yes, please.”
“Whatever you want, Miss Manners.” His chest feels like he’s taken a shot of Fireball. “You’re so polite when you’re trying to get your way.”
“I’m always polite,” you challenged weakly, pressing your head further into his pillow.
“Mhm,” he indulges, fondly, “You’re the sweetest girl I know.”
And then he fills you with two fingers.
“Jesus, Bradley,” you gasp, offering more of yourself to him.
Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder as he lets your whimpers and whines guide his hands.
The two of you have your eyes fixed on the way the tendons of the visible part of his forearm are flexing before it disappears under the covers as he works you.
Bradley curls his fingers into that spongy part of you and your hand flies to his wrist, gripping him tight. It makes him pause, worried that he might have pushed you too far too fast.
“No, no. D-don’t stop,” you plead, desperately, “I’m so close. Keep going, please.” You squeeze his wrist encouragingly.
“Sorry, sorry,” he soothes. He focuses his efforts on that spot again now that he knows you weren’t wanting him to slow down, but rather trying to hold him in place. His fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit working in tandem to get you there again.
“I just- yes. Like that. Oh fuck. Keep doing that. Oh my god. Please, Bradley.”
He’s heard you say his name a lot of different ways, but never like this.
Your back arches and you twist yourself towards him, burying your face against him and keening into the hollow of his throat as you come around his fingers.
You jerk and writhe into his hand, your knee slips free of his and your thighs clamp together around him. Bradley rolls off the arm he’d been leaning on and brings it to cradle the back of your head, pulling you closer and holding you to him as he steadily works you through it until you’re loose-limbed in his arms.
He waits until your rapid pants have evened out before he slips his fingers from you. The displeased sound that you make makes the corners of his mouth twitch. He should have known you’d be bossy. He rubs gentle circles into the divots at the base of your neck as you come down.
Bradley can feel your lips graze the side of his neck when you finally speak, “So, um, let me know if you need a letter of recommendation or anything. I’d be happy to pass one along to your next partner.” You languidly prop yourself up on his chest and he notes with pride that you look a little flushed. “But, seriously, I get it now.”
He huffs a laugh as he toys with the end of your hair, “I’m glad it lived up to the hype. Well, at least that part of it.”
You press your lips together like you’re deciding something, tracing idle shapes on his stomach, and he can’t decide if he thinks you’re doing it without realizing it or if you’re the one doing the teasing this time. Your eyes flick down to his visibly hard cock and he feels his face heat up, “Can I?”
“Do you want to?” Bradley wants this experience to be everything you need and want it to be, but something about the tables turning here and the idea of you being the one to touch him like that makes his heart pound.
“I want to make you feel good too,” you softly tell him, resting your chin on your shoulder. The tender way you’re looking at him makes his teeth ache.
“Ok, but only for a little bit,” he agrees. Bradley knows he’s walking a tightrope with this, he’s aching and more than ready to be touched, but he doesn’t want to come all over your hand.
He plants his feet into his mattress and lifts his hips enough to pull off his boxer briefs, sighing in relief as his cock bobs free.
“That can’t be average,” you mutter under your breath.
He doesn’t know if you meant to have said it out loud but he smirks all the same, “I’ve never been average a day in my life, kid, Grade A student here.”
A groan slips out of him as your tentative fingers grasp his cock. There’s a lack of finesse in the way you touch him, your hand isn’t nearly as well-practiced as his own. He wraps his hand over yours, guiding your strokes as he shows you just what he likes.
“You can grip it a little firmer,” he coaches. You nod studiously, like you’re going to be tested on it later. Together the two of you work him from root to tip.
Bradley had never given much thought to his size until now. He knew he was big, but seeing that your thumb couldn’t reach the tips of your fingers when your hand was curved around him was an ego boost he didn’t know he needed.
You get more confident with every glide up and down the length of him. Your tricky thumb sweeps over the tip, collecting what precum had gathered there, and it makes your hand slide easier over him. When he accidentally thrusts into your hand, you grin and there are those dimples again.
“Ok, ok,” he blows out a shaky breath, stilling your hand with his. “We gotta stop or I’m going to come. And I’m not about to be a one pump chump.”
“It sounded like you’re more of a ten pump chump, if I remember correctly,” you tease, looking all too pleased with yourself. “Don’t worry, Bradshaw, your street cred is safe with me.”
He shakes his head in amused disbelief, “You’re such a goddamn menace. I knew I shouldn’t have told you that part.” He surprises the both of you when he wraps an arm around you and rolls to pin you under him.
And it’s like all the air is sucked out of the room because your thighs are cradling his hips and his cock is resting heavy on your stomach.
Neither one of you dare to move. He’d give anything to know what you’re thinking right now, he feels out of his depth as he watches you watching him.
His tongue feels thick in his mouth, “Are you on-”
You nod before he even finishes the question.
“Do you have-”
He nods before you finish yours.
“What did you promise me?” he prompts, squeezing the dip of your waist.
You hold up your pinky to him, “I’ll tell you.” He wraps his own crooked one around yours and gives it a shake.
Bradley doesn’t know what comes over him, but he drops a kiss to your shoulder as he reaches over you into the drawer of his nightstand to fish out what he needs. He’s thankful when you don’t comment on it because he wouldn’t even know how to explain it.
He leans back on his knees and rolls the condom on with practiced ease, then flicks open the cap to the bottle of lube he’s also grabbed and drizzles it over his cock.
“Am I not…” you trail off. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound this shy with him before.
“You’re plenty wet,” he assures you, pumping himself- once, twice- just enough to coat himself, “But this’ll be good too. I think you’ll like it.”
Bradley settles back over you, one arm braced by your head and the other on your hip, as your hands come up to rest lightly on either side of his ribcage. He rocks against you to demonstrate; the head of his cock nudges your clit with each silky pass. You exhale heavily at the sensation as he eases you into the motion of it, as he shows you what it’s like with another person.
You’re holding him close, and in just a moment the two of you will be the closest two people can be.
He makes only enough room to reach down between your bodies, only looks away from your face long enough to line himself up with you. There is such trust in your eyes as you gaze up at him, it’s not something Bradley takes for granted.
You nod, your fingers stroking his sides.
God, does he want this to be good for you.
He takes a breath.
And then he’s shifting forward and pressing in.
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Bradley thrusts into you with all the careful gentleness you’d expect from him.
His thumb skimming along your forehead as he pushes in, in, in.
When he found that spot inside of you with his fingers, you thought you were going to fly away from the intensity of it, but then he’d pulled you into the safety of his arms and you felt like you could fall apart because he’d be keeping the pieces of you together.
He’s been so good to you. He is so good to you. He’s the best person you know.
The more of him he gives you, the less you feel like you can catch your breath.
You feel hot, hot all over. And much fuller than you’ve ever been.
Some sound must make its way out of you because Bradley offers you a low soothing noise before you feel his lightly chapped lips against your temple.
There’s something about this that reminds you of the time he tried to teach you how to skateboard. Always waited until you told him you were ready, until you found your balance. He’d held your hand as you cautiously rolled along the sidewalk, you were less worried about falling with him by your side. Only this time, his hand is on your waist and the only movements are his hips against yours as he rocks into you.
Little by little. Inch by inch.
You clutch at his biceps at the slight stinging sensation and you feel him hesitate.
“It’s just a lot,” you whisper. His fingers flex on your waist.
“You’re doing so good, just a bit more,” Bradley murmurs, encouragingly.
There’s pressure, there’s a give, and then there’s relief when his hips finally, finally meet yours.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath.
Your eyes had flickered shut somewhere along the way. You open them to see that Bradley’s face and chest are flushed pink, the muscle of his jaw flexing. The furrow between his eyebrows is so deep that you release your grip on him to smooth out the lines with an unsteady fingertip.
He reads the question in your eyes.
“You’re just really tight,” he grits out, voice strained.
You assumed that was a good thing, but he’s holding himself so tense above you that now you’re not sure. “Do I-,” you fumble over the words, “Does this feel good for you?”
He huffs an incredulous laugh, and brushes back some hair from off your face, “You feel really fucking good, sweet-”
Your whimper cuts him off when he pulls out a fraction and then pushes back in.
His brown eyes take you in as he does it again, more this time. Pulling out just a bit- just enough- and then filling you again. The discomfort fading more with each thrust as he guides his hips to yours until yours are tilting up to meet his seeking more.
It’s a conversation between your bodies, the give and the take of it all as Bradley introduces you to this new unspoken language. You feel yourself flutter around his cock, stretched wider than you’ve ever been.
You feel that heat spreading underneath your skin again as he surely and steadily pumps into you. It feels like your nerves are on fire. You didn’t expect to even come once and you’re well on your way to a third.
He reaches down and hooks your leg over his hip. His hand slides up along the outside of your thigh and under your ass, tilting your hips up towards his even more. He’s so much deeper like this. Your hands slide into his hair, tugging at his curls.
“Bradley, I-I think… I feel-”
 “You’re gonna come,” he rasps, nodding at you. Encouraging, coaxing.
He grinds his pelvis against your clit with every deliciously slow roll into you.
Your mouth drops open at the feel of it, it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined. You don’t think your faces have ever been closer than they are now. Bradley is breathing your air, and you’re breathing his. Bradley’s pupils are blown wide, his heavy-lidded eyes are locked on yours. You didn’t know there could be so many shades of brown. His curls are a mess and it’s all because of you. He licks his lips and your breath catches in your throat when his eyes dart down to your parted mouth.
His next thrust into you hits that spot inside of you just so right that it has you gasping.
It’s so good, it’s too good, it’s overwhelming.
You wrap your arms around his neck clinging to him, your face buried against him. Bradley drops his head to your shoulder, you feel his lips brush against your clavicle. Your head moves away on instinct, making more room for him if he wants to do it again.
You get lost in the feeling of his cock hitting you in all the places you’ve heard about and read about, but have never felt for yourself until now. He’s still got your ass gripped in his hand, whereas your hands can’t stay in one spot. They’re tangled in his hair, running over his shoulders and down his abs, gliding over his back aided by the sheen of sweat he’s worked up.
You’re not trying to hold yourself back, but it feels like you’re standing on the tallest diving board at the pool, your toes curled around the edge, but still too nervous about the drop to jump.
“C’mon, kid. You’re right there,” he breathes hard, “I need you to come for me. Just one more.”
He gets his fingers back on your clit and it’s the end of you. Your back is arching so much you think you might snap. Your toes curl so tights they may never unfurl. The force your orgasm overtakes you, demanding everything you have up to offer and then some.
You hear Bradley’s moan as you pulse around his cock, trembling under him as the waves of pleasure wash over you. His hips stutter against yours, finally losing that steady rhythm he’d set, you pull him tighter to you and it’s not long until he comes too.
It’s all white noise. All you can feel is your heartbeat pounding, until little pieces of the world come back into focus.
The hum of the fan.
The beam of warm afternoon light through the blinds.
The smell of the now cold coffee on his nightstand.
In the after, you’re all too aware of every place your body is touching Bradley’s.
He’d somehow managed to roll on his back and had taken you with him. He was literally just inside of you, but yet it feels like your leg draped over his thigh is somehow more intimate. A prickly self-conscious feeling settles over you. Unsure of what the rules were for friends who just had sex, you attempt to peel yourself off of him, but the heavy arm over your waist keeps you in place.
“Come back here, kid,” Bradley mumbles, his eyes still closed, “I need to cuddle after I come, so I’m gonna need you to indulge me here for a moment.” He strokes a soothing hand down your back. And while he says it’s for him, you know he’s still trying to take care of you.
He hums when you lay back down. You set a hand on his chest. He reaches for it with his free one and threads your fingers together. It makes you melt further into him.
You feel a little different. But mostly, you feel like a weight you didn’t know you’d been carrying had been lifted off of you.
Your first time was everything you hoped it would be. You were safe and cared for, and you already knew, you’d never have any regrets about it. And it was all because of him.
“Thank you, Bradley,” you say, softly.
“Anything for you, kid.”
Your early morning catches up with you as you lay there, warm and secure. Your eyelids get heavier with each pass of Bradley’s hand along your spine. And you drift off to the sound of his heartbeat under your ear.
You’re still you. And Bradley is still Bradley.
It was just… something between friends.
A few hours later the two of you are still in his bed.
Only now you’re clothed and swapping the cartons of Chinese food that he’d ordered while you’d napped against his chest, and fighting over the fortune cookies watching some reruns of old sitcoms. You couldn’t hear their laugh tracks over your own.
The last couple of days you had at UVA fly by just as quickly.
You don’t know how, but the two of you managed to cross of all the things on his Spring Break To-Do List. And before you knew it you were back at the airport.
Bradley had insisted on walking you in, wanting to see you off.
Neither one of you has ever been good with goodbyes. So you don’t give him one, instead you reach for your bag and tell him, “Ok, see you in June.”
Bradley doesn’t let go, clearly confused, “What the hell are you talking about?”
You grin because it feels like a checkmate.
“You didn’t think you’d be getting that diploma all by yourself, did you?”
He looks thunderstruck.
You and your mom already had the plane tickets and hotel room booked. Your stepdad wouldn’t be able to come, but he was planning on sending your mom with one of the cakes from his family’s bakery. You’d been tasked with finding out what flavor, carrot cake or peanut butter- Bradley’s two favorites- but you could iron out the details with him later.
You’d had a busy week, plus it was more fun this way.
Bradley tugs you into his arms, yours wrap around him just as easily as they always have.
“June?” he asks into the crown of your head.
“June,” you promise.
And when he lets you go- for real this time- it’s with a smile that takes up his whole face.
He doesn’t say goodbye either, “Be good, kid. See you in June.”
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𝐍𝐎𝐖
You avoid Rooster for the rest of the night.
And Jake too, for that matter. Bless Javy for finding ways to distract him because you could tell than man was chomping at the bit for more details. But you’d already given him more than enough.
You could have lied, you probably should have lied. It might have been easier than feeling like you’d hung up part of yourself on the drying line for everyone to see. But in that moment, the thought of lying and saying anyone else’s name other than Rooster’s had made your stomach turn.
Because it was the truth, he was your first, but he was also your best.
When you come out of the bathroom, there’s no missing Rooster. He’s leaning against the wall by the entrance. It takes him a moment to notice you since he looks lost in thought, but when he does you feel pinned to the wall by the intense look in his eyes.
He stands to his full height as you approach, you know he wants to talk about it.
You shake your head at him, “We don’t need to do this.”
“No, kid, we really do.” He takes you by the arm and leads you to a quieter spot away from everyone else.
“It was just a game,” you start before he can, “And now I know more about everyone’s sex life than I ever wanted to.” He crosses his arms over his chest at your attempt at deflection. “Look, I’m really sorry if that was something you wanted to keep a secret or just between us. I should have asked you first if that was ok to share.”
“I don’t care about that.” Rooster waves you off and takes a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours. “All this time and I’m the best you’ve ever had?”
“Are we really doing this? Here and now?”
You peer around him to look and see if anyone is watching the two of you, it feels like a showdown. But all the Daggers are occupied, probably on purpose. You’ve never seen Mickey with such a serious look of concentration on his face.
“Here and now,” he confirms.
You feel flustered, “Rooster, it’s been 12 years and we haven’t talked about it once-”
“Bradley,” he cuts you off. He takes another step towards you, so you’re toe to toe with him. “I’ve always been Bradley to you.”
The tension that had crept up in your shoulders releases a bit.
“Bradley,” you say, softly. “Listen, I’ve had a lot of good sex since then. Great sex even.” He presses his lips together and nods. “And with other men, if I felt like they weren’t putting in their best effort I’d kick them out because the bar was set very high early on.”
You see him fight back a smirk.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, with pride.
Your breath gets caught in your throat, you know he hears it because his eyes take on a richer shade of brown. You both feel the shift, tension churning between the two of you.
Taking a deep breath, you continue, “But I was telling the truth when I said you were my best. Probably because of the way you made sure I knew that you cared. I don’t know how to describe it. It was just different with you.”
You feel his finger graze the back of your hand.
The sounds of the Hard Deck fade into the background as you stare at each other. Entire conversations are being had as you look into his eyes and he looks into yours. Words and sentences spoken with glances.
Just friends don’t look at each other like this.
“It’s never been like this,” you whisper, “We’ve never been like this before.” You gesture at how close he is to you.
How he’s almost got you backed up against a wall.
How he’s looking at you like you’re his.
“I know.”
He says your name and your heart somersaults in your chest.
“I want to see your tattoo. I keep finding myself looking for it when we’re all at the beach. And then I get annoyed, knowing that people have seen it and I haven’t.”
“My tattoo? Bradley, what-”
“I want to see your tattoo,” he repeats like it’s a fact. “And I want to punch Seresin in his smug face every time he flirts with you.”
You roll your eyes, “Jake doesn’t flirt with me, not really. He just likes riling you up.”
“What if I said I wanted to try this as more than friends.” Bradley settles a large hand on your hip. “What if I said that since you’ve moved here I’ve had a hard time keeping my head on straight.”
“Bradley.” His name falls out of your mouth so easily now that it can.
“I want to take you home with me. I want to kiss you. I want to make you come. I need to know if you sound the same in my bed. And then I want to take you out for breakfast and buy whatever fancy coffee you want and as many pancakes as you can eat.”
You’ve been told that you wear your heart on your sleeve, but he has always worn his on his face. There’s no mistaking the open want on his face.
“Bradley, it’ll be different this time.” For so many reasons.
Because it’s not a favor being asked. It’s not some new experience being tried with the person you trust the most, with everything. You’d be on equal footing. It wouldn’t be a friend helping a friend, the two of you would be crossing that line between friends and more because you want each other in that way.
“I want it to be different, sweet girl,” he says, cupping your face in his familiar hand, “I’m ready for it to be different, if you are.”
He looks from your eyes down to your parted lips.
“We didn’t do that last time,” you whisper. Feeling brave, you reach out and run your fingers along the buttons of his shirt.
“No, we didn’t,” he agrees. His eyes are trained on his thumb as he skims it under your lip. “And that’s a damn shame.”
Bradley’s face is all you can see. Warm eyes, a still-straight nose, and a soft smile that is for you and you alone.
He dips down and your eyes flutter closed, your head tipping up on its own in anticipation.
His lips brush your cheek. It’s not enough.
You tug on his collar, but he chuckles and kisses your cheek again, lingering longer this time.
“I’m not kissing you for the first time around the corner from a bathroom,” he rasps.
You open your eyes and see the amusement in his. He always did like teasing you.
“Oh, where do you plan on doing it then?”
“Outside your front door, like a gentleman,” he says, like it’s obvious.
You can’t help but grin because Bradley Bradshaw can’t wait the extra 10 minutes it would take to drive to his place instead of yours. He wants that kiss just as badly as you do. You watch as a matching smile to yours blooms across his face.
It feels normal to slide your fingers between his much larger ones. It feels right as you lead the way out of the Hard Deck with him only a step behind you.
As it turns out, he only makes it as far as the Bronco before he’s spinning you back towards him and pressing you against it. His hands are on your hips and yours are wrapped around his neck as he kisses you for the very first time.
Bradley kisses you like a man who knows what he wants. And what he wants is you.
It’s not tentative in the way that first kisses usually are.
He kisses you like he knows you.
Because he does.
Later, when he closes the door to the Bronco for you, it feels like the end of one thing. But as he slips his fingers into yours when he backs out of the parking space it feels like the beginning of something new.
That night tangled in Bradley’s sheets- he’d kissed you at every light which made those extra 10 minutes it took to get to his home worth it- he makes your back arch and your toes curl as he makes you come with his fingers and mouth and tongue and cock. His lips dropping kiss after kiss on every part of you that he can reach. Because he can, because you want him and he wants you. 
The way he touches you tells you that he remembers it all.
He was you first, but what you wouldn’t learn until later, is that he would also be your last.
And he’d be the only man to ever have your entire heart.
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Happy Birthday Jordan! An AU just for you! 💖 I adore you and I hope this year is the best one yet!
A big thank you to @callsignspark and @ofstoriesandstardust for their help and beta reading and their woogirling! I appreciate you two so much!
Author's Note: this was a "what-if" AU set in the 'Like I Can' universe! If you want to read about what really happens you can read it here!
You can read more of my stories here!
Taglist:
@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader
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faeriekit · 2 days
Text
Ghosts of Those We Once Knew
a phic phight fill for @silverwing013
Warnings for: implied child abuse, accidental death, dead parents
**💚**
“Oh yeah?! And what are you going to do about it?!” Aunt Alicia snapped into the phone. 
There was a sound on the other end of the line, but Danny couldn’t make it out all the way. There was another solution, but it was…risky; it would require going into his aunt’s bedroom— a well known, forbidden domain— to pick up the only other phone hooked up to the landline. 
…There was no other time to find out what Aunt Alicia was putting off. It had to be worth the risk. Danny crept up the worn carpeting of the stairs, hoping that his sneakiness would hold up to Alicia’s discerning eyes and ears. 
Her bedroom was dark. Carpeted. …Pink. 
Whatever. Danny took a deep breath, lifted the phone off the hook, and tried not to breathe too loudly into the mouthpiece.
“You have no right to keep Daniel in your dismal, miserable, isolated hovel,” someone shouted on the other end. Danny had never heard this voice before. He sounded like someone around Dad’s age, maybe? Maybe a little…smoother, despite the blistering anger coming through the line. “You live with no human contact for nine months out of the year. You speak to no one. Do you— is Daniel even enrolled in a school? Did you get any sort of educational provisions for him whatsoever?” 
“What, so he can get cocky and blow himself up in the garage like his parents?” Alicia snapped. Danny had to clap a hand to his mouth to hide his gasp of dismay. 
“You know full well that punishing your sister’s son by restricting his access to an education and basic human companionship is not a solution to your grief for your sister. You are out of your mind.”
Aunt Alicia’s voice got low. Aunt Alicia’s voice got mean. She sounded like how she looked when Danny had fumbled the water pail from the well or stepped two steps too close to the rhubarb patch out back. “Vladmir Masters, you listen here,” Aunt Alicia muttered. “That boy is everything left of my sister in the whole damn world. He is not going anywhere. Do you understand? Not for you to fill his head with her stupid husband’s supernatural hoo-ha, and not for you to snatch up and teach himself how to kill other people the way those two killed each other. Danny stays here. If you ring me up one more time, I’m going to do more than just mail dog crap to the front step of your stupid castle in Wisconsin.”
The phone cut off. It would be an innocuous end to a phone call, except Danny can hear the clatter of plastic cracking on plastic in the downstairs kitchen.
There was a moment of silence.
“Daniel Jackson Fenton, you get your butt in here right now!”
Danny jolted, heart pounding. He—he went downstairs.
Aunt’s Alicia’s lips were pursed, her eyes tight. “What did I tell you about missing all the sticks in the yard? It looks like a wreck!”
Danny felt his breath stick in his throat.
“Well?”
“Yes, Aunt Alicia,” Danny mumbled. He looked down and away. He wasn’t caught out eavesdropping, but…was this any better?
“If those sticks aren’t piled up beside the woodshed for kindling in half an hour, you can kiss your dinner goodbye.”
Danny hadn’t had dinner in three nights. He was very lucky he didn’t need to eat as much as living kids. “…Yes, Aunt Alicia.”
“So?”
…Danny went outside to collect sticks. It took until nightfall to get all the refuse from yesterday’s storm off the ground.
Aunt Alicia ate canned corn and carrots and butchered rabbit with hot sauce for dinner. Danny ate nothing.
Danny went to bed thinking about somewhere else he could go. Mom and Dad were dead—smithereens in the blast that had killed him and brought him back to life simultaneously. Jazz was in the hospital. He had no grandparents. He had no other aunts or uncles other than Aunt Alicia.
…Who was Vladmir Masters?
*
It took two days for Danny to decide to run away.
Or. Well. Fly.
He’d figured that if he wanted to find out who Vladmir Masters was, he’d need an internet connection. His cell had been on the Fenton Fone Plan™ and had been disconnected from the Fenton Family Patented Ghost-free Satellite™ for almost three months now. But, you know…what was a public library for, if not getting information?
The two-day waiting period was mostly just Danny getting his stuff together, making sure he didn’t leave anything behind, finding anything worth stealing…
…There was a picture of Mom with her big hair at graduation, a black robe thrown over her Hazmat suit. Her hair had been so big. Lots of people were beside her, including Dad, and someone with a matching hair stripe. They looked happy.
It didn’t matter that it had been Aunt Alicia’s photo. The picture had gone into his backpack next to Bearbert Einstein and a filched pocket knife.
Mom was Aunt Alicia’s sister, but Madeline Fenton had been his mom.
…Was still his mom.
Would…would always be his mom.
Danny wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t going to cry. Still, the flying and everything was still new to him. It took almost ten minutes to get himself off the ground without floating off willy nilly.
It took another half an hour to remember how to go through walls.
By the time Danny fell (as in actually, literally, leaned up against the wall and then realized he’d not made contact the way he’d expected to) through the house wall, it was almost eight at night. Aunt Alicia was still listening to Prairie Home Companion downstairs on the radio.
Whatever. He was out of there. He was sure he looked crazy—his hair was white, which was almost impossible to hide—but all he had to do was get out of there fast enough that no one connected one teenage runaway with a backpack to Danny Fenton.
It was fine.
It was all going to be fine.
…And if there wasn’t someone who’d help him. Well. Being homeless didn’t sound…so bad…?
…Or maybe he’d just squat in the burnt out ruins of Fentonworks. That sounded fine too.
*
Morning broke. Danny ended up in a tiny town somewhere in Mississippi.
A nice guy at the coffee shop gave him a cup of water and told him where the local library was. A librarian plugged her login details for him on a public computer, and Danny was able to look up one “Vladmir Masters”…
…CEO and owner of DALVco, millionaire, and Green Bay Packers megafan.
Holy crap.
Like… There were hospital wings with his name on them. Charities operating out of his company. Every picture of the man was perfectly taken in perfect lighting with perfect suits and precise smirks and bright-white magazine article paper.
Danny went back up to the librarian. “Do you have any articles on…uh…Vlad Masters?”
The librarian smiled warmly. “Ah, school project?”
“Sure,” Danny lied, milk on his tongue.
Vlad Masters was a self-made millionaire. He lived in a castle in Wisconsin that used to be owned by a dairy empire kingpin. He went to—
Danny read the line again
—He went to the same college as Mom and Dad. The year looked right, too. They might have even graduated in the exact same year. If only Danny could still check Dad’s college ring in the bottom of their junk drawer.
Wisconsin. Vlad Masters lived in Wisconsin.
…Danny was really lucky he was never all that hungry anymore.
Danny got another cup of water at the coffee shop, washed his face in the bathroom, and got ready to fly another night.
He was no sextant, but he could probably figure out how to get to Wisconsin after a couple of hours of flying, and a little time to gauge the sky.
It would be easy.
…Danny’s white-topped, pale face stared back at him from the restroom mirror.
It had to be. It would have to be easy.
*
So, a cheese castle looked a lot like a regular castle.
Danny squinted up at the stonework. Nah, that looked like…a castle. That being said, it looked more specifically like the castle he was looking for—the one that had been featured in Vlad Masters’s house tour in Architecture Daily magazine two years ago.  
Same…roof bits. Same big door. Danny swallowed. Same…tower? Were there better words for these? There were definitely better words for all the tricky stone bits in the castle.
Whatever. Danny was praying that the man was actually home today, as opposed to flying across the country on some kind of business trip. Rich people did business trips, right?
Danny floated up to the front door. There was no doorbell.
…Danny bit his lip. Okay. So there was no doorbell. There was a very large, brass door knocker. It looked kind of like a big monster face, with a ring held in its teeth.
The knocker was just high enough off the ground that Danny had to float to get there. Lifting it was a struggle.
When it knocked, the whole door buzzed with sound.
Danny waited.
…He waited.
And…Danny waited.
No one came.
Danny picked at the skin of his lip. What if he just…went in?
Like. It was a big house. Maybe Vlad Masters just hadn’t heard him at all? Maybe he was just…in the basement or something…?
Danny paced midair. On one hand. He’d come all this way. He had to follow through. He had to see if there was…something. Anything. Anything at all—anything that could possibly connect Masters to his family.
Any connection that wasn’t Aunt Alicia would be worth breaking and entering.
On the other hand. Home invasion was and would remain illegal.
Danny grimaced.
He…stuck his head through the door. 
There was a hallway on the other side. A little end table. A guest book. 
…Okay. Danny slipped through the door. He was breaking and entering now— or at least…entering. 
Inside was dark. Gloomy. Comfortable, sure— lots of soft furnishings, curtains, couches, pillow, lounging things— but very…opaque in atmosphere. 
He was glowing, he noticed. That probably was pretty bad on the “trying not to get caught” scale. 
There was no one upstairs. Danny drifted through room after empty room and up into floor after empty floor. There was a kitchen, and the food therein were largely preserved items. There was nothing in the fridge. 
Danny’s stomach cramped. There was no one here. 
…Maybe he should look downstairs? 
The castle got colder the further down he went. The windows that at least allowed the minimal light that escaped through the tree cover in the castle vanished. The only light left was Danny. 
Danny floated down deeper. 
There were doors made of metal in a long, stone hallway. Each had different numbers on them. Danny followed the rows of doors.
There were wires on the floor. They were organized by color and bound by little ties, until they weren’t, and Danny eventually ran out of tangled webs of red and blue plastic to follow. 
They ended at a closed door. 
Danny hesitated. He poked his head through. 
On the other side was a ghost. 
Danny jerked back. He’d— he clapped his hand over his mouth. That was—! And sure, Danny was something like that now, but he’d never seen—!
He should leave. Danny should leave. 
Danny barely made it three doors down. 
Going somewhere? something asked him. Danny shivered. 
The ghost appeared on his left in ethereal white, black hair pulled behind him in some sort of half-halo. Unlike Danny, who was in something like half-hazmat, half-hoodie, the ghost wore a long, glowing labcoat, appropriate PPE beneath. 
Danny’s breath fogged up in his mouth. He flinched. “Sorr—” he tried. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to be here.”
The ghost looked at him with bright red eyes. Danny floated a few steps back. Spying, are you?
Danny shook his head. “No!! No, I just— I was looking for— I wasn’t spying! I’m sorry! I didn’t know you li— died here! I’ll leave!” 
The ghost’s head tilted. For a second, Danny thought that he was going to throw a punch. And then—
You’re already here, the ghost pointed out, and opened a door. Beyond it was…something similar to a doctor’s office. An examination table with the paper on it. One of those blood pressure cuffs, attached to a printer for the readout. A sink. Sundry tongue depressors. You may as well consent to be helped. 
“...Helped with what?” Danny asked nervously, fingers flexing. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
The ghost hummed— not in the way voices hummed, but in the way high voltage sang in distant powerlines. You are newly formed, aren’t you? Most can tell a ghost’s nature from its presence alone.
Danny looked away. “Um. You know. You might be the first ghost I’ve ever met.” 
The ghost’s feet almost touched the ground. It stared down at him. It was taller than he was, and when it stared, it made Danny want to run away. 
…Truly, the ghost asked(?), and it took Danny a second to realize it was a question. 
“Maybe I died a little recently…” Danny tried, trailing off into a mumble. Was there a right answer to this? 
…I see. That would make this check-up more urgent, then. Might I encourage you to come this way? 
Danny followed him into the room. 
It felt… It looked and felt exactly like any other doctor’s appointment, excepting that the doctor involved in the process had blue skin and fangs and a hairstyle that defied gravity. The ghost still wore gloves and didn’t poke him or prod him too hard, though, so that was a bonus.
Danny got his pulse taken. (None.) Danny got his lungs checked. (Not breathing.) Danny got his resonance? looked at? Whatever that was? It was a big scanny thing that looked like an X ray and took pictures of his chest. 
The readings were real pretty, whatever they were; the whole film print was taken up with splotches of white and clear blue. It kind of shimmered when Danny tilted his head. 
You’re quite powerful for a newly formed ghost, the ghost offered, overlooking papers Danny couldn’t quite see on his clipboard. It flipped through once. Twice. You’re clearly not attached to your place of death, so that’s not why… Are you aware of any compulsions to follow an Obsession yet…?
A ghostly obsession? Danny knew what that was— it was one of his parents’ theories on why ghosts persisted after death! Was it was true? 
“Um,” Danny said, unsure. He hadn’t…had he? “Not that I know of?”
The ghost paused. It clicked its pen. It marked something down on Danny’s chart. Interesting.
Ominous. 
May I quickly test something? the ghost asked, looking up at Danny. It would only take a moment. If it does not work, there will be no other side effects other than mild discomfort and an activated flight response. 
Danny shifted. The paper crackled underneath him. “...Does it hurt?” 
No.
The ghost added nothing more. 
Danny’s…head jerked up and down. It was fine. It would be fine. 
The ghost’s hand circled his wrist. Its touch burned like fire. 
And then light, like how Danny burned away one form for another—
—Danny was left on the table, no longer weightless, no longer breathless. He was flesh. He was human again.
Vlad Masters stared back at him. 
…Huh. 
Mr. Masters— Vlad?— licked dry lips, staring at Danny, whose wrist he still held. Danny…didn’t know if he could move. Danny didn’t know if he knew how to move. 
“...Daniel?” Mr. Masters’s voice cracked. His eyes moved up and down Danny’s body, from his raggedy hair to his dirt-stained clothes to his beat-up shoes. “Daniel Fenton?”
Danny winced. “It’s just Danny,” he offered hoarsely. His throat bobbed. ��You…know me?” 
Mr. Masters moved his grip to Danny’s hand, apparently moved to tears. Without the red in his eyes, he just looked…human enough. “Daniel— Danny, how did you— Are you dead? What happened?” 
Danny felt the weight of everything push down on him again, as if it had ever let up on him since the portal incident. Mom and Dad’s funerals. Jazz in the emergency room. Being resuscitated by the EMTs. Getting shipped out to Aunt Alicia’s house without warning. 
“House blew up.”
That was succinct enough, right?
The man’s face turned devastated. “I heard— I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry, Danny.”
…It was more concern than anyone had shown in a long time. His eyes were wet before he knew it. When he wiped his face with his sleeve, the dampness was enough to leave little streaks of mud on his face— and, ugh, he felt filthy. 
“It’s okay,” Danny lied, because it wasn’t. He pressed his sleeve to his eyes. “It’s…you know my parents?”
Mr. Masters took a deep, surprised breath. “Yes. We…weren’t in contact after we graduated from school together, but Jack always… He asked me by email to be your godfather, right before you were born. I said yes, but I have no idea if he ever filed the paperwork.” 
Oh. 
…Oh. 
There were clearly more secrets here. Mr. Masters was a ghost, and so was Danny. He lived in a giant castle that was clearly haunted, which was made obvious by the owner. He was Danny’s godfather, and Danny had never once met him. 
And he wasn’t Aunt Alicia. 
Danny sucked the spit off of his teeth with his tongue. “Can I stay here?” 
Mr. Masters made a wounded, desperate expression. “I would rather you did.” 
“Can you teach me how to be a ghost?”
The man persevered through what were clearly heavy feelings. “...If I must.” 
“Can I have dinner?” was Danny’s final question. “Like. On the regular?” 
There was a second where Mr. Masters’s eyes went red. The castle suddenly felt taut with anticipation. Fury crawled on Danny’s skin. He could feel the pressure digging in search of some way to burrow into his flesh.
And then it was gone. 
“Of course you can. You are a growing boy.”
Danny smiled shyly, barely showing his teeth. When he smiled for real in the mirror, he had fangs. It was better not to. “Cool.”
Mr. Masters nodded. And when Danny looked down at the floor, he changed his grip so that Danny could hold his hand and hop down like normal. 
“It will be alright,” Mr. Masters promised quietly. It seemed to be just as much for him as it was for Danny. “Or…I’ll take care of it. Whatever happens. You’re not alone, Danny.” 
Danny had been alone for almost half a year. It had felt like forever. “Thanks.” He sniffed. 
They walked upstairs from the basement laboratory together, in a way Mom and Dad never would again. 
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dungeonpuppykai · 3 days
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|| Back To Black ||
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Description: When the Winter soldier experiments go wrong on your fiance Crown Prince James Barnes and he ends up crippled and unstable, you call the engagement off and your family proposes that the alliance can still be on if his family pairs you up with his twin brother Nick instead. All seems to be fine and dandy until James breaks out of the lab one night and comes straight for you, razing everyone who stands in his way.
Pairing: Dark!Winter Soldier James Bucky Barnes | Morally Gray Princess!You. 
Disclaimer: I do not own James Bucky Barnes, Nick Fowler or any of the MCU characters mentioned (sadly). This story contains dark and mature content. Minors do not interact.  
Warnings: Dubcon, morally gray!reader, opportunistic reader, smut with plot, dark!Bucky, angst, winter soldier, exhibitionism, choking, hair pulling, slapping, humiliation, degradation, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected p-in-v, biting, missionary and doggy style, breeding kink, creampie, fear kink, power imbalance, Bucky's metal arm (?), pet names (rosey, baby), Daddy kink, sir kink.
Note: I think this sounds a bit unserious and somewhat goofy aah but this was exactly my idea and I don't think I could have done it any different. Please let me know what you think <3 
You rolled your eyes with a scoff at something your now fiance and ex brother-in-law to be, Crown Prince Nick Barnes, said. The night was cool and you had ordered for the lights of the garden that your balcony faced to be turned down. Your silk nightgown that was dark blue in color -Nick's royal color- hung from your shoulders in the most comforting way as the skirt bit of the article swayed with the gentle breeze. You heard Nick's chuckle on the other end of the video call and before you retorted with something edgy because that was just the kind of Princess that you were, you shifted against the railing to make yourself more comfortable while still holding the phone in such a way that he could see you.
His demanding nature was not one you particularly fancied but you supposed that was the kind of liberty that came with being an actual heir. Though you couldn't help but be reminded of how although his brother -the older twin- was a much better crown prince than Nick could ever be and yet he had never made you feel inferior in status by imposing his will on you.  
It was impossible for you not to muse on the possibility that if your older sister, The actual Crown Princess of your kingdom, had been chosen by his brother instead of you, Nick would still treat her the same way and if she would put up with having to be subservient. 
"All things considered, Your Royal Highness, we are still not having a dozen children" the title never failed to sting your tongue due to how you had never had to use it for your original fiance. 
But Nick was just one of those people. 
His snort made you want to roll your eyes but you knew better than to disrespect him as the two of you shared a rather formal relationship that was quite terse around the edges. Perhaps, his brother had spoiled you too much. "I always find it amusing that you think you have a choice in–" you were busy watching the stars because you could not bear to look at him when he behaved like this. But then he abruptly changed the topic and you didn't care to express concern by glancing at the screen, "I thought you said you excused your ladies, little one" he did not appreciate being lied to; something he shared with his identical brother.  
"I did, Your Excellency" when he sighed in disapproval, you had to avert your eyes from the sky to look down at him on the screen with an air of annoyance about you. "I really–" 
"Then who is that behind you?" Nick had also been busy reading away on a tablet as he traveled somewhere -probably back to the Palace- in a vehicle but now he narrowed in on his screen. 
Your eyebrows remained flat and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "Ha ha, Your Highness, very funny" he had a thing for making silly jokes when he was in an agreeable mood, or at least moving towards one. 
"Y/n, I am serious" there was an urgency in his voice as he leaned closer to get a better look. "Turn around right now and tell me who is–" 
"You even wear his color now, huh rosey?" Your body took a good few moments to register the voice behind you and you nearly failed to recognize it at first. Though when your brain finally managed to make the association, your heart dropped into your stomach and your blood ran ice cold. 
You spun around on your heels so hard they ached, coming face to face with James Barnes; the original Crown Prince and your real fiance. The man who had chosen you over your sister; giving preference to you for once, the brave warrior who had surrendered his body to his country; so they could make the best protector possible out of him, the honorable fool who only wanted to do good; a hero too noble for this wretched world.
Your phone that now blared with Nick's alarmed yells slipped through your numbing fingers but James caught it before it could break against the ground. "What the hell are you doing here?" You harshly whispered as if in a defensive autopilot, overwhelmed by how he had grown three times his size. Your eyes unintentionally traveled to where his arm had gotten mutilated on an expedition and you found a metal one glinting up at you in its stead. Maybe your reaction could be considered foolish in hindsight, but the knowledge that you were utterly at this unstable man's mercy and had nothing to defend yourself with against his monstrous stature terrified you. That in turn caused you to act in the only way you thought was appropriate as you desperately hoped for your facade to affect him in a helpful way. 
"Did all those years mean nothing to you, rosey?" His face was covered in stubble and his dark hair was long as it obscured most of his features, deep voice animalistic as his black leather clad form seemed to expand and contract with each heavy breath. Your throat tightened in on itself and your breath hitched. What the hell had they really done to him? 
"You shouldn't be here, James" you looked around for your guards– anyone but found the area to be eerily silent. How had you not noticed this ominous shift in your environment before? "That is against the rules as you're endangering the future Queen and many other people" he was all about rules and that was what you had disliked most about him. "Go back" your heart was on the verge of exploding but you pushed on with as much a semblance of composed firmness as you could muster. 
Nick's threats and curses melted into the background as James coldly snorted before snatching you by your hair, fingers snaking through a tangle of the strands, the action causing you to wince. It was only when you tried to fight him back and the bustle caused the two of you to inch closer to the lighting of your chambers did his face really come into your view. Your eyes widened in horror as your hand went to clamp over the hold he had on you defensively.
His pale face was covered in blood splatters and his glossy teal eyes seemed to shake, their blown pupils crazed. 
"So it was always about the crown then, huh, rosey?" You would never have expected him to sound as hurt and betrayed in this maddened state as he did.
"You know it was" you lied through your teeth to try and get his stance to falter like it always did when you counterattacked to his affectionate advances with hostility; the only thing you had known all your life. "Nothing matters more than the crown" the world functioned on power. So you had always used and abused that you had over him; over his heart. 
"I see" except, it didn't seem to budge him much today. Your eyes desperately scanned your dark surroundings again, this time for a weapon albeit still in vain. "In that case, you should be with me, then" your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you whimpered at how his fingers tightened around your neck. 
"James!" And then you were getting dragged back into your chambers. 
Once he had approached your bed, he placed your phone on the bedside table so a fuming Nick could clearly see whatever was about to unfold. 
Your flailing form was yanked back in frame and then held tightly in place by the clasping of his metal hand over the deep neckline of your nightgown. "Because I am all fixed up," your eyes turned to look at him in horror as he chuckled dryly, "and back to take all that's mine" you screamed and hot tears finally rushed down your flushed cheeks when your compressed breasts sprang free in the air upon his tearing a thick valley between the front piece of your gown. James only snickered into the camera while his brother screamed at him to not dare damage what was his amongst other profanities. 
But wasn't James simply repossessing what had always belonged to him in the first place? 
He had finally corrected himself in the way the world deserved. 
Now he would only live for himself like everyone else was. 
He was done getting played for a fool by all. 
"Please!" Your words fell on deaf ears as the man proceeded to further rip his brother's color off your body furiously until nothing remained in his hold except for your nudity, strong jaw nearly ticking broken due to how it was clenched as he did so. 
"Tell me, dear, did you also let him have you?" You were nearly petrified at this point both by shame and fear as he manhandled you onto the bed before crawling over you like a predator and trapping your limbs under his. "And if you dare lie to me then so God help me" his metal hand roughly fondled your breasts as his other hand tightly restrained your limp yet determined wrists above your head. 
"S- Stop!" Your back arched and you turned your face away in disgust when he started sniffing you all over like a hungry hound. 
"Hm, what about this little pussy of mine down here" a chill ran down your spine at how the crevices of his metal hand felt against your nether lips when he stroked them. "Has she forgotten her Daddy, hm?" He was the stark opposite of the man you had been engaged to and that in addition to how you had last seen him slashing at the lab assistants while speaking a language you did not understand as well as how semi-liquid crimson particles covered his face caused for a wave of pure terror to rush over you. But it was nothing compared to the chilling fact that his body heat and touch -regardless of its fashion- had awakened that one familiar feeling only he could evoke in you.
Nick went silent at James' words and you felt blood rush to your tear stained cheeks. 
Contrary to popular belief, you were not the chaste future Queen saving herself for her wedding night and King like the royal protocol demanded. 
But in your defense, the then future King, James, himself was the one who had defiled you because you were already his. And you had let him for you could act all high and mighty as you desired in front of him as well as others due to how comfortably open he had always been about his feelings for you hence presenting a very vulnerable perhaps even a subservient part of himself to you on a silver platter, but also because the man knew how to fuck.
You were addicted to how he felt against you and though you had never brought your suspicion to your lips, you had wondered for the entirety of the time your betrothal had changed to Nick whether the younger twin would ever be able to come even close to his brother. 
"Would you look at that?" His coo sounded out of place and ominous due to how the pretend softness stood out from the menace of his tone. "It doesn't seem like she has," your fingers instinctively clawed the air to try and take a hold of his hand to deal with the feeling of his bionic digits invading their way between your petals. "She still weeps and blinks up dumbly at me like a stupid slut all the same" horror filled you as you became hyper aware of Nick's eyes on you, and yet your skin began to buzz at the filthy words that still scratched you in that one way regardless of everything. "Rosey…?" It was chilling how he playfully raised an eyebrow like he wasn't covered in blood and flesh of the people that he had torn apart on his way to you, instead giving you a lazy grin as he spread your privates apart with the back of his hand. "Be honest for once and say, you didn't let him touch you, did you?" Your loins sparked to life when the tip of his finger ghosted over your entrance. "I mean, I know how demanding a whore you really are, common ways can't satisfy you and you don't waste your time on lost causes" James bent down to inch his grin closer to peer down at you and you had to turn your eyes away with a clasping shut of your lids. You had been caught. "The crown matters more than anything, huh?" Your eyes further clenched at his taunt and a shiver reverberated through you when his hot tongue darted out to swipe across the tear stains on your cheeks. 
He had promised you during your courting period that he would never allow a single tear to fall from your eyes. It seemed so that even in this state, he was determined to keep it. This way or that.
"I- I belong to someone else now." Having always been treated inferior to your sister, you refused to let go of your only chance at power. So jutting your chin out determinedly you refused to look at him and falter in your stead, for you knew it would make you cave as his face was still that of your protector and pursuer.
Because even if a woman had not the slightest preference for her admirer, the mere knowledge that she was fancied earned him a place in her heart still. 
"No, you don't" his words were stern and determined. "You were mine and you are mine" his lips trailed their way down to your neck to mark you his while one of his metal fingers penetrated your intimate band of muscles, causing you to bite back a moan as your pussy clenched defensively; hence intensifying the pleasure. "It's not your fault, really. Your little girl brain is too small to remember the difference between me and him for too long since we are identical, huh baby?" You hated how your traitorous hips betrayed you and began to move in sync with his finger. "But you don't have to worry your pretty little head about that, my sweet rosey…" His lips ghosted over your ear, hot breath fanning your alarmed skin. "I'll just claim you again to remind you" his teeth were sharp and unforgiving against your skin that had faded out the marks of his passion. "And I'll put my heir into that little womb of yours so whenever your tiny mind tries to get too silly again, my child will remind you who you belong to" he refused to acknowledge your protests at that and plopped his fingers out of you just long enough to undo his pants. "Besides," his hard cock easily found its way to your entrance, as always, "isn't procreation one of the duties of the King and the Queen?" 
It was then you realized that his transformation had been physical in every sense. 
Your eyes widened as your body jolted upwards in shock, lazed out hips now sparking up to life to almost try and get away from the cruel impaler that threatened to intrude it in a manner so devastating that the band feared a ripping of the lining. 
James snorted when your pussy refused to accept him and clenched in on itself defensively to shut him out, your petals nearly trembling in fear. "Aw, baby. How cute, you did stay faithful to me after all, huh" shaking his head when you only sobbed in response, he grunted as his huge shoulders moved to attempt an invasion yet again only to be denied. "Tsk, tsk, never learns her lesson, does she?" 
"Plea–" your words were cut off by a harsh smack resounding against your pussy lips and you jerked up and into his chest. 
"Bad pussy" he seemed to be immersed in a world of his own amusement and lust, ears deaf to your pleas while his dark eyes drank up every last drop you had to offer. "Always playing around with her Daddy" the force of his metal hand was cruel against your tender flesh when three short paced slaps came down on it in quick succession. "Thinking she has a choice, tsk" the next hit was hard and heavy. "It seems she needs to be reminded who calls the shots around here" two concluding slaps later, you were being braced for his cock again and surprisingly enough, your tense little pussy was much more compliant with receiving him this time. 
That, and the embarrassing amount of slick that had seeped through your petals as a product of the brief disciplining session. 
"You feel that, baby?" His eyes finally looked up into yours as he aligned himself along your entrance. "She's all fixed up for her Daddy now" and then he pushed in. 
"Oh!" Your back arched before you could respond since he bottomed out rudely at once, biting down on a sensitive patch of your neck the same time as when he intruded your insides. 
The thing was, it wasn't that James wasn't an experimental lover, no. The two of you had done things that you felt mortified to even think about for too long. But it had always been with proper care and vigilance because the then crown prince was very soft on you as he referred to you as his heart. So you treated him like a pet dog and trampled all over his feelings and the liberty you had found in his treatment of you; something you had never been allowed before. You were used to pulling at his strings like a puppeteer.
But now, the way he pulled and twisted you in whatever fashion that he desired… 
You never expected the rush of hot need that waved its way over you and the thick arousal that gushed out of your womb to slick his cock to be the result of his manhandling you like you were no more than a doll for him to play with. 
And then his touch that you had been deprived of for months was further blocking your intellectual faculties amongst other things. 
James' eyes fluttered close as his metal hand reached for your throat to squeeze out the remnants of your refusals. A grunt left him as he let himself reminisce as well as get overwhelmed by the velvet texture of your splotched walls. He brought his face closer to yours and groaned before pressing it into one of your cheeks to press hard, sloppy kisses all over it as his hips moved but only to press harder up your womb. 
It was James' custom invented way of getting you completely stretched out for his cock. 
… That had grown thrice its size because of his serum procedures. 
And the man had already been way bigger than the average. 
"J- Jame-s!" You gasped out, struggling to breathe. His stiff tip felt like it was beginning to penetrate something else. "P- Plea-se!"
"What do you want, huh baby?" Your features scrunched together in discomfort as you flexed your fingers again. They needed to be freed so they could hold onto something to cope with the overwhelming penetration.  
"Move…" A smirk pulled his lips apart and he opened his dark teal eyes to peer down at you, silently grunting as he pushed deeper at that. "P- Pl-ease–" your tears were starting to become hot and you could feel your nerves bulging against your forehead from the lack of oxygen. 
"Will you behave if I do?" Your toes curled as you hissed, the knee that you wanted to bring up as a way to deal with the pain trapped under his heavy thigh.
You timidly nodded because there was not much else left for you to do. It hurt, and you wanted him to move to ease the pain almost as much as you needed him to fuck you. 
James clicked his tongue in disapproval and bit down on one of your nipples in a punishing manner, making you jolt upwards in pain. "Use your words, honey." A surge of pure pleasure overwhelmed you and you moaned loudly with satisfied nods, letting him know that you were in the process of complying. 
Like you always did when he was buried balls deep in your cunt.
"So you were fucking him when he was courting you, weren't you?!" Nick was furious on the other line, feeling like a lied to fool as you had denied it when he had asked you about it. "I fucking knew it you stupid slut!" The words caused you to clench harder around James' girth as you bit your bottom lip. "I am–" he went to cut the call but a gun entered the frame to press into his temple as his car seemed to come to a halt. You heard a faint 'watch' being told to your fiance.
But for some twisted reason, the way in which Nick's livid eyes now watched you with a quiet rage caused the desire in your hips to only bubble hotter. He didn't have a choice for once and you could go against him all you pleased "I w- will behave… p-lease!" Your eyes had stuck on your fiance so James patted your cheek to redirect your attention to him. 
"Eyes on me" the demand was followed by his letting go of your wrists to snake his arms under your waist to hoist you up and in a more convenient position for his cock. You moaned as your fingers found his long hair to hold on to. 
"Y- Yes… sir" his leather jacket was coated in blood and human and you did not want yours to add to the mix. So you raked your mind and you raked it hard. "T- Thank you, sir" you rather prided yourself on your opportunistic wit. 
James chuckled darkly as he began to reel his hips back, your cavern making a loud decompression sound as a result. You found yourself sighing in relief when his hard skin unglued from yours because for a second it had begun to feel like he was stuck in your channel.
"So fucking clever even with that little brain, aren't we, baby?" Of course you could never truly fool him regardless of how good you were. 
"BUCKY! OH!" A vile whine loudly left you when he kissed your chin only to sink down his teeth into it next as his hips snapped against yours to fuck you upwards. He didn't halt this time and pulled out again to back thrust in, his movements slow but visibly desperate to speed up. "FUCK!" 
"Ah, there is that girl I raised on this cock and its milk" your chin stung when he finally let go to close his mouth on one of your cheeks now, causing you to shiver from how overwhelmed you felt by the pain in your face and the pleasure that bloomed in your pussy that was inching closer and closer to a proper pounding as result. 
"Please fuck your child in me!" It had been far too long. "Please! I need it so bad! Please fuck me full of your children so I can always remember who I belong to!" You liked how Nick watched– had to watch. It almost felt like revenge; a slap you had wanted to hit him stupid with for the longest time for making you feel so low when his brother, who was twice the man he could ever hope to be and your real suitor, never had. James' cock felt just right as he fucked you so good that you began to see neon stars. You didn't care anymore. Or at least, not in the moment. It felt as though your life depended on this release. 
Perhaps… it did.
Besides, the silence in your surroundings and gun next to Nick meant James had it covered in some way. Not that it was much of a surprise. His Kingdom had the greatest army to date and those soldiers were loyal and compliant only to him. 
"You know what's the best part about this, rosey?" Your mouth was agape as you panted and moaned through it alike, tugging at his silky strands as his ballsack clapped against the beginning of your ass before sliding into your cunt each time, the primal smell of slick, sweat and sex floating in the air around you.
"What is it, my King?" You were shameless with it, as you had always been. "Please tell me" the fake way in which you unclasped your fingers from his hair to scratch one of his cheeks with your nails made him clench his jaw as he squeezed one of your tits, pistoning his cock in and out of you even faster. 
"I know you don't mean any of this" you froze momentarily and his crooked smirk morphed into a grin. "But you will before the year's end" you went to speak but his metal hand found your clit just in time and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, nails digging into the stubble of his cheek. "I know you will" him promising you that you'd return his feelings one day wasn't anything new. He had always told you that. However, normally your response would be a roll of your eyes or simply a change of topic. But today, something dangerously final lingered in them and you had no clue why but you found yourself answering; 
"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! I will, sir!" One of his thick nerves twitched against a particularly sensitive spot in your walls the same time his tip found your special bundle of nerves and brutally collided into them, tearing out incoherent screams from deep within you. "Oh- I am– I am–"
"Don't cum" his hand disappeared from your clit and your eyes that you had subconsciously closed flung open as you begrudgingly tugged at his hair with a needy whine. "You don't deserve it" your body violently jiggled up and down in his arms as you vehemently shook your head. 
"NO! PLEASE!" If there was one thing he didn't appreciate, it was you raising your voice at him. But you couldn't help it, your build up was nearing its edge and the fear that it would topple over all wrong after such a long time scared you. Because once an orgasm was ruined, there was no coming back from it. James had taught you that one night after a ball when you had danced with someone a little too frankly. 
"No?" He was panting himself as he hugged your waist closer to his, the feeling of his cock's imprint pressing against both of your stomachs only making him slam you down harder and harder. "So you deserve it?" 
You quickly shook your head as your boobs flew about, pussy trying to close on itself out of sensitivity when his metal fist closed around your throat again. "N- No! No! I don't, sir!" Your voice altered in a humiliating manner when he squeezed and your dry throat pressed in on itself, making you cough. 
"That's right" his hand parted from your neck long enough to slap you. "Think you can just say your pathetic little pretty please and I'll forgive you for forgetting my existence the moment I wasn't good enough for you?" You sobbed out of frustration, willing your hips into squeezing themselves closer together so you could hold on from falling over. 
"No!" He slapped you again, the force causing your head to turn sideways this time around. "No, sir!" Desperately reaching for the artificial hand you pressed humiliating kisses all over it. "But it's been so long! Please, my King!" Your back arched from the strength it was taking you to keep yourself from cumming. "I need you so bad! I need it so bad!" In your confusion and oversensitivity you dropped your head against his, your knees trembling. "Only you can make me cum! I tried for months! So many times in so many different ways!" The tears of embarrassment were hotter than those of need that you had been weeping all this time. His movements faltered a little at your confession. "But nothing worked! Only you do! So please! Please let me cum! I don't know what I will do if you don't! Please let me cum and give me your babies!" 
"Only I work, huh?" His voice was eerily quiet, a new kind of dark exploding in the air about him. You vigorously nodded, genuine for once in your life. 
James' chuckle was the only thing your hazy mind registered before you were moved, twisted, turned and bent faster than you could keep up with. 
The next time your consciousness caught up with the present you were facing your phone, on your knees like an animal as your build up slowly subsided. Though your vacant pussy was plunged full soon after, your legs getting pulled apart before being hoisted up in the air by James' hand, your elbows the sole support of the upper half of your body now. 
"Tell him how badly you want to be stuffed full of my children and I'll let you have it" blood rushed to your face to bubble under the skin when your eyes locked with those of the stoic male at the same time but before you could hesitate, James cock began to move inside you although torturously slow. "You might want to hurry up, rosey. I don't have all night" the spank that his words accompanied sparked you into motion like someone pressed a button on you. 
"Please, Nick!" The thrusts sped up and your claws dug into the mattress. "I want James' children so bad!" There wasn't much emotion on the male you faced but the bright red of his ears and neck even in the dim lighting of the car indicated that he was both furious and humiliated. Perhaps even more so than you. "Please! Please ask him to stuff me full of his babies!" The more slaps rained down on your ass as your pussy expanded to welcome James balls deep inside you with each brutal thrust, the more your mouth ran on the most vile autopilot. "All I want in my life is to be fucked swollen and heavy with his children with my body wrapped up in his color while I nurse the other ones!" James cursed before his hand reached for your front to dip between your legs and you moaned before your arms gave out and you fell face first. 
"You heard her, now tell him that" as your cheek rubbed against the mattress everytime you were pounded into it, you heard a man speak to Nick. The Prince tried to protest but something– probably the gun pressing against his head caused him to stop before he gritted out a few seconds after; 
"... Fuck your children into her and wrap her swollen body in your colour, James" the man reminded him that it was King James, for whatever reason and Nick sighed before correcting himself. "Please, King James" you couldn't help the whimper that forced itself out of you at his menacing tone.
Your back arched when the frantic circular motions of his fingers became too much for your cunt to handle and you clenched around his girth again, shuddering as you prepared yourself to get in trouble for the orgasm you were about to have. 
But then your dependable luck did its thing. "Cum," the vibration of the spank buzzed through your whole body, "cum for me" as your tense muscles relaxed and you closed your eyes to let go, you felt James' hot seed explode within you, the force of his thrusts causing the cum to go flying all about. 
Your eyes fluttered shut and the only two things you registered for the next few minutes were shaking profusely while limb paralyzing pleasure exploded through you and the rapid rubbing of your cheek against the soft bed covers which was result of the brutal pounding you were receiving from behind.
When he was done with you, he slowly untucked himself from you and left you trembling on the mattress while he fixed himself up. "Natasha!" Your ears perked up at the name of his second in command and you trembled at his volume. The heavy doors to your chambers opened and closed after the woman in question. 
The red head clicked her tongue as she approached the bed, the heels of her boots faintly clicking against the floor as she walked. "Could've done better…" You jumped from how close she sounded when she spoke. "Because she's still awake" the hair on the top of your head was fisted into his metal arm to pull you up and you had to hurriedly scramble to cover your blushing jizz covered ass. 
"For what's going to happen next" you whimpered at his words as you were moved onto your trembling knees by the humiliating hold that the man had on your hair and your whole body shook under the stern woman's scrutinizing glare. Peeking up at the red head through your lashes, you went to cover yourself up but James' scold for you to stay put had you planting your wrists in your lap within the next second. "Hands down" you hurriedly lowered your head too to avoid further increasing his ire. 
Some shuffling sounded from above you before James approached you again. "Arms up, baby" the endearment must mean that you would be spared… right? You quickly complied with the utmost obedience and James placed a comfortable black gown on you before stepping back to reach for something else. 
You almost gasped when you recognized the brilliant glimmer from your peripheral vision.
His mother, The Queen's, crown.
"There you go" you felt him place it on your head and your heart dropped. "Everything you always wanted placed on that silly little airhead of yours, baby" an embarrassing gasp escaped you when he suddenly pulled you closer by your throat. "Are you happy now, my sweet rose?" Your eyes welled up with confusion and how he suddenly slapped you before pressing his lips against yours roughly. 
"He asked you a question, brat" you jumped at how Natasha spoke up suddenly, clearly fed up with you blinking up at him dumbly. 
"That's no way to speak your Queen, Nat" your heart warmed up at how he clicked his tongue at the woman disapprovingly. "Tsk." 
"Y- Yes. Yes" you nodded, still in a daze of post-orgasm sensitivity and general puzzlement at the absurd turn of events from an already shocking situation. "Yes, sir. Thank you so much." 
He was smiling now. "Good girl" before he pecked your lips and held his hand back for Natasha to hand him something else. "You can rule all of them" your face burnt when your mind registered the accessory that he wrapped around your throat next. A collar and a leash embedded with sparkling diamonds. "I just want to rule you" his metal hand rotated in the air as he wrapped the leash around his bionic digits. "Let's go" you nearly fell on your face as you were pulled off the bed before being marched straight to the heavy doors. 
Natasha opened them to reveal your entire family and staff standing mortified outside on weapon point of James' army. You whimpered and lowered your head in embarrassment until your chin touched the area between your collar bones, fingers tightening around your gown as you suddenly became hyper aware of the faint dig of the edges of the collar against your pampered skin. 
"The King has called the alliance off" Steve, your owner's right hand, announced in his firm and curt voice. "The only reason why he has spared you, I must add just this once, is because you are related to the Queen. Any efforts of contact from here on out will lead to unsavory consequences akin to those his own family has met" a chill raised in your spine as your blood dropped in temperature. Holy fucking shit. They really had made a beast out of this once too noble to be true man. "Lastly, not that any of you really care but if the Queen ever wishes to visit, she will be allowed to do so after she has provided His Highness with an heir, accompanied by some of the best that the army can provide." 
The walk out to the numerous sleek black SUVs felt like one of shame despite you wearing the crown you had always fantasized about.
And perhaps that's exactly what it was.
A balancing of the scale.
For betraying the one who loved you so dearly that even in his mindless state, he had known not to hurt you.
At least, not in a way that hadn't made your silly little pussy weep for more. 
.
Tag(s) <3: @identity2212 @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @cjand10 @ihavetwoholesforareason @myfavbuckyfics
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