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muwapsturniolo · 3 months

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✯FreshLove for the Fit✯

pt1

Summary: Y/N decides to DM Chris after receiving threats and things start to escalate between the two.

Warnings: NSFW content, swearing, mentions of jerking off, titties are mentioned, dildos, masturbation.

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Y/N was dying of laughter.

Two days ago, one of her favorite content creators decided to go on a spam spree and like all of her posts. She was confused, to say the least, then she became flattered.

Now here she is, full-on cackling as she reads the hate comments she's receiving.

12-year-old girls' calling her all types of names and sending death threats, all because Chris Sturniolo was most likely jerking off to her?

It's hilarious.

She starts laughing even harder when she realizes Chris unfollowed her and unliked all of her posts.

She decides to mess with him a little bit and sends a DM on Instagram

Y/I/N

yo, your fans are cray asf. you need to tell them to leave me tf alone.

Chris's heart dropped when he saw the notification. Y/N was DM'ing him? He hesitantly clicks on the notification and his mouth runs dry when he sees what she said.

He felt like shit.

He isn't dumb, he saw what some of the fans were saying to her online. He thought it was crazy they were sending death threats to her because he was horny and dumb. He decides to respond back.

Christophersturniolo

i feel like shit for the stuff they are saying to and about you. it's not fair at all and I'm sorry.

Y/I/N

LMAO, im playing with you. ion care about these little ass girls. they mad at me because you were horny and jerked your shit to me. shit is funny.

Chris can't help but sigh, and laugh in relief. He really didn't want Y/N to be mad at him.

Christophersturniolo

fuck you had me scared. I'm glad you're handling this well though.

Y/I/N

lmao, i can handle myself very well thank you

Chris finds himself being bold behind a screen.

Christophersturniolo

i like the way you handle yourself.

Y/N smiles and turns onto her stomach, kicking her feet as if she's a schoolgirl texting her crush.

Y/I/N

so i take it you like my content?

She knows he likes it, but she wants to see him admit it. Y/N was a bit cocky, she knows she's pretty as fuck, has a nice body, and that her content is one of the best.

She just likes hearing people say it.

Christophersturniolo

love it actually

Y/I/N

tell me what you love about it.

Christophersturniolo

i love that you wear my brand as your getting off. the way you tweak your nipples through the shirts as you shove the dildo into yourself, chasing an orgasm. i love the way your moans are soft yet so loud at the same time. Don't get me started on your thighs, id love to be in between them all day.

Both of them are staring at their phones, bodies shaking as they take deep breaths. this conversation took a turn none of them were expecting.

Chris can't believe he's talking to a CamGirl who could actually expose this whole conversation.

Y/N can't believe she's even talking to Chris. Hell, she barely has wrapped her head around the fact he enjoys her content.

Christophersturniolo

what would you say if i wanted you to call me

Y/I/N

i would tell you to check my stories tab for prices.

Not even five minutes later, Y/N gets a cash app notification for $200 with the message

"FT me and wear FreshLove."

There's a phone number attached and Y/N is shocked. Her FT prices are only $130 but he sent $200.

She copies the number before pasting it into the Facetime log and pressing the call button.

It rings three times before Chris picks up.

"They look good," both of them think to themselves.

Chris is wearing a pink hoodie that makes Y/N go feral on the inside. Pink is one of her many favorite colors and to see him looking so good laid out in it, she's clenching her legs. It doesn't help that his camera angle is low. She wonders if that's what he would like while his dick is in her throat.

Y/N is in fact wearing FreshLove just like Chris asked (it was more so a demand but that's not the point), and he's trying to contain himself. It was obvious the pink shirt may be a size too small considering it was hugging her chest tightly, allowing her pierced nipples to peak through. His mind is running wild as he imagines fucking her while she's decked out in his brand.

"Hi,"

Chris is shocked when he hears the tone of her voice. He doesn't know what he was expecting, but he didn't expect something so soft and dainty. No wonder her moans sound the way they do.

"Hey..." Chris responds.

"What did you want to call for?" for some reason, Chris is too shy to admit the real reason he wanted to call. How do you tell a girl you only wanted to Facetime, in hopes she fucks herself on her pink dildo so he can jerk off.

"I don't know."

Y/N tilts her head to the side as she looks at him, "I think you know you're just too scared to say it." Her words are taunting,

Chris doesn't like it.

"Not scared to admit anything. I just figured you wouldn't like me telling you to go ahead and grab that pink dildo and fuck yourself for me. I was raised to be a gentleman after all." Chris smirks seeing Y/N get shy. Although her skin is brown, he can tell there's a faint reddish tint to them.

He keeps going, "Don't act all shy, like you don't post yourself online doing the same thing. After all that is how I found you."

Y/N likes being degraded. It's one of the many kinks she has.

"But I won't have you do that, I want to get to know you first."

Y/N is shocked. usually, when she does these calls, the guys automatically demand that she strip and start playing with herself. Although this whole interaction will be transactional, it's a breath of fresh air for her.

The call continues, both of them laughing and talking for more than an hour. The conversations jump from topic to topic. One minute they are talking about music (Y/N was shocked when Chris hadn't heard of Jorja Smith), favorite foods, and movies.

Suddenly Y/N asks a question that's been on her mind, " Why did you send $200 when the price was $130?"

"Because I wanted to" he answers so quick and nonchalantly, it surprises Y/N.

"But you didn't have to, especially if we didn't do anything sexual." When Y/N looks back at her phone, she sees a smirk made its way across Chris's face.

"I have a proposition for you."

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i actually hate this so much but i did want to put out a second chapter 😭 let me know if yall like it or what you want to happen. im very open to suggestions!!!

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highvern · 2 months

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Work Me Out II

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: simp gyu, car sex, protected sex, dom!gyu, brat!reader, spitting, choking, minor cock warming

Length: 2.5k

Note: happy 1k! i almost deleted this bc i hated it so y'all have to be extra nice to me about it (im joking) (not really) everyone say thank u @cheolism for beta-ing!

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part I

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

“Hi!”

“Hi,” Mingyu grins, dropping a kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “You look…”

He lifts your hand, encouraging a spin so he can fully appreciate the black slip dress gliding over your curves.

“Wow.”

“Wow?” You laugh as he pulls you closer, goosebumps rising under the palm at your bare spine.

“Beautiful,” he sighs into your lips.

He kisses you deeper; crowing you against his chest with a hand at your back. The lull of Mingyu’s lips and cologne lower your defenses, mouth opening to welcome his tongue. But he pulls away just when things breach on the edge of more.

“We’re gonna miss our reservation.” He coos through a smile, dropping a consolatory peck to your nose.

“So?”

You try to bring him back but he dodges you easily, tipping his chin up until your only option is to leave a trail of kisses along his Adam's apple.

“I’d like to take you on at least one real date.” Mingyu argues.

He’d be more convincing if he wasn’t leaving fingerprints on your hips. But you think it's cute how he wants to wine and dine you. When you step back, you notice how his eyes glow the way they always do when met with approval. It’s cute, toes on the border of innocence; and it makes your knees crave the feeling of the hardwood floors so you can give him all the validation he can handle with his cock in your mouth.

But there will be more than enough time for that later.

“Wow, so eating Captain Crunch in our underwear after you defiled me wasn’t a date?” You gasp. “Okay. I see how it is.”

Mingyu snorts but plucks your jacket off the coat rack and holds it open to help you in. “Alright, drama queen. Let’s go.”

The drive is filled with chatter. Over the past week, the initial spark of attraction only grew between you; through chats at the gym, texting, or the one night he came to your apartment and ended up passing out on the couch while the movie continued to play in the background. Somehow it was more intimate waking up fully clothed, big spooning him with your face buried between his shoulder blades than having him drill your guts until tears streaked your face.

Since you slept over that first night, you’ve noticed a plethora of things that make you more fond of Mingyu. How he slurs his words when he’s excited, talking so fast you can barely decipher what he’s saying. If you throw a wink his way while walking across the gym his eyes go wide like he’s completely taken aback by your interest; as if he didn’t have a front seat to how much you liked him. Or if he notices you looking he’ll not so subtly flex or make a face that has you laughing so hard you nearly tumble off the treadmill. Or the way Mingyu prides himself on being a gentleman; pausing his workout and walking you to your car, insisting it's too dark out for him to be comfortable letting you go alone (partially because it's his fault your gym visits became a two hour endeavor since the night in the car, he just can’t stop distracting you in the name of getting to know you better).

It’s the same at the restaurant. Mingyu takes your coat and pulls out your chair. He asks for more details on the book you mentioned on the way over, asking if he can borrow your copy once you finish. He feeds you some of his entree off his fork, splits dessert to satisfy your sweet tooth, and nabs the check from the waiter before you can even think of offering to split the bill.

It’s almost too perfect; like he is running a checklist in his head. But Mingyu isn’t that kind of guy. His enthusiasm is just that, enthusiasm for spending time with you, getting to know you, picking your brain like you’re the most interesting person he’s ever met and he can’t wait to know more.

“How did you not know it was a couples class?” You ask, laughing into the curve of his arm as he walks you back to the car.

“It didn’t say it on the flier! It just said ‘portions for two’ and I thought that meant I’d leave with leftovers.”

“Wow. So Wonwoo got you banned and ate your food?”

“Wonwoo got me banned and neither of us gotta eat the food.”

The collar of Mingyu’s shirt flitters when his chest shakes with laughter, watching you down the slope of his nose. Like a flame in a vacuum, all the oxygen in your lungs is sucked up when you notice how good he looks even under the sterile overhead light. The glass of wine you sipped through dinner doesn’t help; turning your insides to mush and your blood to a boil.

Mingyu is so genuinely sweet you almost feel guilty for crowding him against his car and palming the zipper of his jeans. The taste of whiskey clings to his tongue, sucked away by your own until he opens the door and ushers you into the back seat.

“Mingyu,” you gasp, plucking the foil package from his grip. “Did you expect to fuck me tonight?”

“No,” he groans into the side of your tit, thanking whatever power in the universe exists that you hadn’t worn a bra. “But a man should always be prepared.”

You snort, “Okay, ‘Mr. I don’t sleep with girls I don’t date.’”

“I think that's former ‘Mr. I don’t’ whatever the fuck,” he moans as he finds your mouth.

Fishing his cock out from his underwear, you lazily jerk him to full mast. Mingyu’s hip buck into the swipe of your thumb. You’d drop your mouth to suck away the mess collecting there but the back seat of his car doesn’t provide much room since your date claims most of the space already. Instead, you settle for tracing your tongue across the raised veins webbing across his neck and nipping at the sensitive lobe of his ear.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Mingyu paws at your ass, fingers digging into the flesh and dragging your covered core closer to his cock. His other hand dips beneath your skirt, thumb swiping at your clit and two thick fingers pushing aside the scrap of fabric posing as underwear to stretch you open without preamble.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Mingyu pants.

You meet every curl of his fingers with a whine, face falling into the cradle of his jaw as he works you up. He’s everywhere; all you can feel, touch, taste. Even his cologne floods your nose; the scent of powdery spice and something intrinsically him that you can’t name.

Whether intentional or not, the match of pace isn’t lost on your mind as your fist sinks over Mingyu’s length the same time he stuffs you with his digits; fucking you by proxy while his tongue licks away every sound of satisfaction before it can make its way between your lips.

Before long, Mingyu bats away your hand to use his own. The second the latex is rolled down he holds himself for you, offering his cock like a prize you can’t refuse.

And he’s right.

The initial discomfort trickles up your spine. Eyes closed, chest caved, you take every inch as Mingyu whispers praise after praise into your neck. Twitching in each other’s hold, each clench of your cunt dips his stomach until you pull him back to your mouth and goad him with a demanding draw against his tongue with your own; a wet suckle more obscene than the way he splits you has him returning the gesture with fervor.

Hips finding a jilted rhythm, Mingyu manages to latch to one of your nipples, teeth razing along the sensitive skin until you nearly collapse from the delightful pain.

Arching into his chest so hard it hurts, your voice cracks, “Oh, Gyu.”

“Good girl,” he groans into your chest.

The hand on your ass pulls you across his cock, forcing you down with each of his thrusts up. Mingyu’s loud but you’re louder and the abandoned top floor of the parking deck doesn’t provide any disguise from what’s happening behind the foggy windows of his SUV.

As sexy as you are with your head thrown back, desperately moaning his name, the fear of getting caught is starting to suffocate him.

You beat against his chest when Mingyu pins you in place. He crushes you flat against him, pelvis to pelvis, so deep you feel him in your throat. Tight around the stretch, he nearly loses his train of thought but finds it when an involuntary rush of his thighs makes you squeak.

He brushes his thumb across the apple of your cheek in an effort to quell the bubbling tantrum behind your eyes. “Shhh,” he whispers. “We can't get caught.”

Time stops as you come to a crossroads. Eye to eye, you can see him waiting for a signal. If you want to stop, drive thirty minutes back to either of your apartments, and then go at it like rabbits, Mingyu will do it. If you want him to stop, drop you off at your doorstep, and send him home with the worst hard on of his life, he’ll smile through the tears. But if you want to finish what you’ve both started in the discomfort of the back seat, Mingyu needs you to be quiet.

So you can listen without complaint, bury your face in the column of his neck and bite your lip until it bleeds from strain. Or you can let Mingyu decide the best course of action.

“Then shut me up.”

A beat of absolute silence rattles your shaking confidence. Mingyu’s eyes widen, jumping back like he’s been burned but you fake courage until you spot the way he licks his teeth at the idea.

Whatever permission he’s looking for he finds in the slight dip of your chin. You watch Mingyu’s mood shift in an instant. The playful tilt of his lips melt away, the corners of his eyes freeze over their usual humor. And the arm around the dip of your waist squeezes so tight you fear he’ll leave a bruise in the shape of his palm.

The hand on your face falls to your jaw, pinching your cheek between his pointer finger and thumb as he tsks, forcing your head back and forth mockingly before he forces his thumb between your teeth.

“Shut. Up.”

He punctuates his command with a bruising thrust of his cock; thrilled at the way his thumb digging into your tongue chokes any sound. The hand on your ass nearly rips your underwear as Mingyu uses it to guide your hips, keeping you bouncing in his lap until you're drooling.

Mingyu’s teeth rake against your jaw, “Touch yourself.”

You clumsily snake a hand down, hips jerking under the blind swipe of fingers at your core. Eyes unfocused, ears filled with the rush of blood, you don’t resist the urge to bite his thumb just to see what he’ll do next.

The sting of his palm against your ass isn’t a shock.

But the wet of his fingers on your throat is.

And when Mingyu squeezes, cutting off the blood to your brain for a second in a show of possessive strength, your choked wail is music to his ears.

“Fuck, you like that?”

Nodding like a bobble head, more pathetic whimpers fill the car.

With a shift of weight, he makes you grind against his lap, the metal of his belt buckle cutting into the back of your thighs. But you’re full to the brink of shredding apart you can’t bring yourself to care. Heat in the pit of your stomach blooms, used and deep.

Mingyu fans his hand along your throat, fingers digging into the jut of your jaw to make you look at his face. His hair is a mess, cheeks rosy with sweat at his hairline. A low rumble in his throat is all the warning you get before he spits on your lips and it glides down your chin; slipping under his palm while he squeezes until stars dance in your vision.

Hips stuttering, everything draws tight; every muscle, every vein, each individual cell contracts and detonates until Mingyu fucks into your so hard your head hits the roof as he flails. Thighs firm against the top of his, you feel each sputter into the condom.

“Mingyu,” you croak, throat wrecked.

Everything feels heavy and worn when he brings you into the warmth of his chest. Somehow, you hadn’t managed to undo a single button beyond the four that let you peek at the dip between his pecs; but the friction of his shirt against your sensitive chest makes you shiver. Sweat and spit leave the fabric clinging uncomfortably but you don’t have the energy to change it.

“Jesus Christ.” Mingyu draws in a heavy breath, and the motion has your legs twitching again. “You okay?”

Nodding into his neck, your eyes slip shut. If he keeps tracing shapes on your back, you’re in serious trouble of falling asleep right there in the back of his car with his softening length still inside you. Attempting to prevent the momentum from taking over, you rise on your knees, only for Mingyu to bring you back down.

“Just…just let me hold you for a second.” he sighs, sounding as exhausted as you feel. “Please.”

Peppering languid kisses across his face, down the curve of his cheek, up the bridge of his nose, you smile when he pouts at the lack of attention to his lips. But when you meet them with your own, it's nearly impossible to call it a kiss from the sleepy grins splitting your faces.

“Wanna come back to mine?” Mingyu whispers into your cheek, leaving his own series of kisses. “We can watch that new horror movie you were talking about.”

“You hate scary movies.”

“Oh no, I guess you’ll have to stay the night in case I can’t sleep.”

“How awful!” You mock. “Did you buy more cereal?”

“Mhm.”

With a monumental sigh, “Then I guess I can come over.”

It takes nearly fifteen minutes to find the courage to unwind from each other. Mingyu distracts you by tracing shapes between your shoulder blades and making you guess his artistic interpretation. Each time you're wrong he demands a kiss. Each time you're right he gives you one back.

When you make him guess what your finger burns into his shoulder he nearly faints before deciding it's time to head home, hands intertwined over the center console the entire way.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

#svthub #ksmutsociety #kvanity #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern

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eustasskidagenda · 6 months

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anon asked: Hi! I just read your Kid, Zoro, Law & Sanji hc with a s/o afraid of having sex and I just loved it! Your writing is amazing and I really enjoyed it. I struggle with vaginismus so I pretty much know how stressful this situation could be. But I’m actually curious to request you the same hc but with much BIGGER boys, especially Doflamingo, Crocodile and Katakuri. Please feel free to add other big men bc I honestly can’t get enough of them.😭😭😭

Hi hi! So I feel really dumb because I accidentally deleted the request, but luckily, I had copied/pasted the text of my doc before. But sorry, anon D: Anyway, thank you so much for liking my work and for requesting! That was pretty fun to write. I decided to add King and the sweet Corazon. And before starting, please have a look at this, lol. Those guys are so BIG, help.

☆Doflamingo, Crocodile, Katakuri, King & Corazon with a s/o afraid of having sex

CW (generals) : smut, MDNI, v!sex, f!reader, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), size kink

WC : Oh my God, I got carried away... 4,3k. Enjoy. :D

⇢ You can read the part one here & the part three here

Doflamingo

CW : a lot of teasing, creative use of devil fruit, slight praise, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, pet name

Doflamingo is, let's say, complicated. Of course, he considers you as a part of the Donquixote family, and he cares deeply about his close ones. But, on the flip side, he can't help but love when people are stressed or afraid because of him. It plays with his constant need for dominance. So first, he would grin, almost laugh, and be extremely pleased with himself. "My poor little bird is afraid… because of my size?" While running his fingers along the length of his cock through his pants. "I'll make it good for you, don't worry, just leave it to me."

Doflamingo craves dominance, so he would be more than satisfied with this situation, his eyes roaming over your body with eagerness. He's a really patient man and also loves to play and tease you all the time. "Lay down comfortably on the bed." He would say, placing his heavy, large hands on either side of your hips, slowly pushing you down on the mattress, his eyes shining with nothing but pure desire.

He loves how tiny your body looks when he's towering over you. It makes you look so vulnerable. Oh, sure, he loves when his s/o is smaller than him. Again, it plays with his constant need of domination. He finds it fascinating that he could destroy you with one hand. Luckily, you're his precious bird, so he would probably play with you and inflict some pain on you, but only what you're able and willing to take.

His hands would be surprisingly feather-light while running all over your body, tracing all of your curves, and fondling your breasts. Then, pinching your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index, delighted by all of your shivering and sighs.

"Mh, you're so needy, y/n" with a low, teasing laugh as he slowly runs his fingers down your trembling thighs, tracing along the sensitive skin before slowly, really slowly reaching for your wet folds. He would smile, his eyes fixed on your pussy, fascinated by how needy you are already for him. But that's not enough. He is eager for more. "So pretty"

He would begin to tease you mercilessly, tracing soft patterns on your inner thighs and lower-belly. He likes to play with anticipation. He's not the kind of man who just roughly and mechanically slides his fingers inside you. Without teasing, there's no fun.

The more you squirm and moan, the more he's pleased, watching your pussy becoming more and more wet.

"So eager already." Purring close to your ears, making you shiver even more, leaving a trail of goosebumps along your spine. "What should I do now? What do you want y/n, my tongue or my fingers?"

You'll have both in the end, so don't worry.

It's clear that Doflamingo has mastered using his long tongue. And the same applies to his fingers always fidgeting when he uses his devil fruit. He's probably a master when it comes to fingering and oral sex. So he would slowly sink between your thighs, licking your soft skin before finally allowing you to feel his tongue against your sensitive folds, keeping your thighs open enough for him with his heavy hands.

You just can't help but arch your back as he eats you out, turning you into a whining and moaning mess. He would drink your juice as if it was a precious wine. "That's it", humming against your slit, licking your clit. Slowly, he would slide a thick finger inside of you. His mind would probably be a bit dizzy, thinking about how good he would feel with his cock inside of your tightness.

"You're so responsive, little bird," before adding another finger and hitting that sweet spot, still licking your clit.

And he won't stop until you cum all over his tongue and fingers. "Good girl"

With eyes darkened with desire, he would finally removing his pants, his heavy and extremely long cock springing free, leaking in pre-cum and twitching in anticipation. You can't help but look at his length, stressed. "Do you like looking at my big cock, little bird? Does it turn you on to know that I'm going to fuck you senseless?" So sure, he would grin again before lying on his back and letting you ride him.

He perfectly knows how to control himself so he won't just push roughly while you line your pussy with his cockhead, trying to brace yourself-up. You definitely want to do it, but you feel nervous. "Need some help, little bird?"

As you nod, he would use his devil fruit to guide you. With one broad hand wrapping around your waist and the other guiding the strings, he would slowly force your hips to move down, impaling you on his breathtaking thickness, his eyes sparkled with mischief. That's the moment you would see him lose his grin as he can't handle how tight and wet you feel all around him. "So tight…"

"You can take more?" As long as you tell him to keep going, he would continue to guide your hips down his length, groaning softly, with his hand fondling the flesh of your waist. "That's it, take it, take it all."

As you start to moan, he would say "What's up little bird, you love how well I am stretching you?"

And as you slowly get used to his cock stretching your walls, his cock throbbing inside you, Doflamingo would nicely use his strings to guide you moving up and down, delighted by the sloshing noises. The way your core swallows his length would be mind-blowing for him. The sight of your wetness covering his cock every time you move up and down is something he would love to see more often. Be prepared to entertain your king again.

Crocodile

CW : slight domination kink, praises, he's smoking because well it's Crocodile, oral sex (Crocodile receiving), slight hair pulling, using of his hook in a slight creative way but nothing extreme, belly bulge, unprotected sex

Another DILF and dominant man.

Crocodile is a silent man. So the second you tell him you're nervous because it's been a while since the last time you had sex and that you're also nervous because he's both long and thick, he would just raise an eyebrow. Just like Doflamingo, he would love the feeling of you being intimidated, because Crocodile definitely has a thing (and a kink) for dominance. He likes when you acknowledge his rank and qualities.

"You're afraid because of my size?"

He would lead your hand until you reached his cock. "If you're nervous, then you have to become familiar with it." So he would feel the girth and the veins, breathing deeply, delighted by the sight of your small hands trying to correctly wrap his thickness. "That's it, y/n. Touch it and get used to it. Soon, it will be all within you."

He would talk with his usual deep, raspy, and calm voice, the one that always sends shivers down your spine. And sure, he would act all dominant, smoking his cigar while you try so hard to satisfy him. Of course, he would look down at you. You are in his hands. So let go of all your intrusive thoughts and just focus on him. Only him.

"Suck it."

He would watch closely as you try to wrap your tongue around his cock, tracing all the veins, and licking hungrily all the pre-cum leaking from his cockhead. He would grab a hand from your hair with his heavy and broad hand, leading your head back and forth, while watching you drool and struggle to breathe all over his cock. He would slowly lose his composure, sighing huskily, unable to handle how cute you look with your mouth full of his cock, trying to figure out how to take more of his length. He would find the sight of his member glistening with your saliva to be quite entertaining.

"That's a good girl. Come get your rewards."

The moment he blows out his cigar and removes his rings, you know the real deal is about to start.

He would likely use his large hook, carefully running the sharpened tip along the soft skin of your stomach. Before slowly leaving a trail of kisses along your neck. Avoid running your hands through his hair and stay still like the good girl you are. Otherwise, he might punish you with a hard pinch on your nipple and a rough slap on your ass cheeks.

Slowly but surely, then, he would reach your inner thighs and then your pussy. He would eat you out with his hand holding your thighs apart. He would you lick your pussy in a classy way, not like a vulgar starving. He would be fond of all your moaning and incoherent mumbling as you can't handle how good it feels. "You won't cum until I say so." While circling your clit with his thumb, teasing you, drinking your juice. Your shivering and tremblings are both entertaining and satisfying. Crocodile rarely goes down on someone, but when he does… oh, it's quite mesmerizing.

"Stay still" if you start to squirm because of how good it feels.

And, once you're finally reduced to a whining mess, he would use his hook to grab one of your thighs, pushing them apart, spreading your legs wide enough to fit in between. "Spread your legs for me." He would put a pillow under your back while manhandling you. And then, again, he would use his hook to slightly raise your upper body, until your pussy is lined with his cock.

"Can you take it?"

He would enter you in one go as soon as you nodded. Not in a forceful way, but he doesn't see the point of taking a lot of breaks. Once his cock is buried deep inside you, he will soothe your trembling thighs by running his hand along your lower-stomach, feeling the bulge created by his cock. "Good girl. You're taking me so well." He would likely hold your legs tightly, trying to fight his own desire to fuck you roughly.

He's a patient man, so he'll wait until you're ready for him to start thrusting.

So deep and slow at the same time while he stretches you further, his cock throbbing and twitching. Not a grunter, but a pretty deep breath as you tighten around him. For this occasion, he will spare you from his usual roughness. But next time… you better be ready.

Katakuri

CW : The reader is smaller than him, but there's not a BIG size difference, food play, unprotected sex

"I know, love." Yes, he would speak before you even have time to express your fears. Blame it on his haki. Katakuri has a lot of sisters, so he would be well-aware of those kinds of thoughts. If you're nervous, he would take some time to ask why, making sure to fully understand the situation.

"I'll take care of you, everything will be alright." Despite his lack of words, you have faith in him. He's aware of the future, so if he says it's going to be fine, you can trust him and it's already really soothing.

The Sweet Commander is a gentleman and he's aware of size. He would never just slam into you, especially not if you're already afraid. Before even thinking of reaching for your pussy, he would start with a lot of soft kisses all along your neck, and then on your breasts, sucking on your nipples, pinching them nicely. He just loves your breasts. They feel soft under his palms. He could spend hours worshipping your chest. As you slowly arch your back, moaning softly, and relaxing under his touch, he would continue to kiss your stomach, honoring every inch of your body.

You're so beautiful. Despite his quietness, his eyes would be brimming with pride. Being intimate with such a beautiful woman like you fills him with pride. "You're doing great."

His voice would always be calm and deep, as usual. The control he has over himself is quite mesmerizing.

And well, Katakuri probably has a food play kink, so he would love to devour your body covered in cream. So intoxicating. Your body tastes amazing. The taste of sugar is also amazing. Both? Total heaven.

He would then sink his head between your thighs, eating you out like your pussy was one of his dearest donuts. He'd like nothing more than to please you, so feel free to guide him. Katakuri being both smart and observant, he would quickly learn all of your sweet spots, turning you into a whiny moan, begging for more.

If you don't tell him to stop, he could eat you out for hours. He can't help it; it feels so good and you taste so good. He would drink your juice, circling your clit with his thumb and wouldn't stop until you cum against his lips.

"So good."

He would take advantage of your wetness and dizzy mind from your orgasm to slowly push one thick and long finger inside you. It's so tight and warm that he would struggle to keep his calm composure. Especially because his haki showed him some really nice pictures of what's going to happen.

As long as you need him to continue, Katakuri would honestly just pamper you with kisses and caresses. He knows how big he's, so you have to tell him when you're ready to take him.

Katakuri would keep your thighs apart with an impatient hand, exposing your wet folds to his eyes. He would look hungrily. His cock twitching crazily in impatience, leaking in anticipation. "You're ready?"

He already knows the answer, but Katakuri is a gentleman and cares a lot about consent. It doesn't matter if his observation haki shows him everything in advance.

Katakuri would intertwine his fingers with yours before slowly easing his cock into you in one go. A slow, but steady one. And as he fills you up to the brim, he would lose his composure and sigh in relief. Your pussy feels like heaven around his cock. It's a perfect blend of tightness, warmth, heat, and wetness. "Y/N, you feel amazing."

He would adjust his pace to what you're capable of. If you need him to slow down, he will. And he would be more than happy to comply if you asked him to be rougher. He is here to satisfy you. And you will be satisfied. Reduced to a shivering, moaning mess. The way his fat cock slowly slides in and out and hits all your sweet spots is just too good. It's such a delight to see the big, stoic Katakuri looking his composure because of your body…

King

CW : The reader is smaller than him, but there's not a BIG size difference, kind of blindfold kink I guess (?), slight spanking, unprotected sex

Even with you, King doesn't like to show his face. He struggles with intimacy. Your confession would make him feel embarrassed. What is he supposed to do? He was about to fuck you without any further thought, but now he needs to take more consideration.

He would slap your thigh with a sigh. "Turn around."

While slowly lying on your stomach and complying, he would slowly remove his heavy mask, running a hand through his beautiful white hair. But you don't have the right to watch. The only thing you're allowed to do is imagine. You've already seen his face. So you close your eyes and imagine his beautiful, almost mesmerizing beauty in your mind: brown skin, white hair, and an expression that is both cold and determined.

He would make you feel. Feel his mouth licking and kissing your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps. Wet kisses. His hair would softly caress your skin as he devoured the back of your neck, his big hands roaming along your waist to keep you steady. "Stay still" he would always speak with his lips near your ear, enjoying all of your shivering.

And suddenly, he would yank your panties or just push them asides, eating you out from behind, spreading your thighs. "Get on your all fours," he would command, just to have a better view of your glistening folds, before sinking back between your legs. He would keep your cheeks spread and lap at your pussy, intoxicated by your moans, your taste, smell, and how you feel against his lips. You're arched for him, exposed, so beautiful.

Even if he eats you out, he would love to spank your ass every time you squirm, forcing you to stay still. "Don't move and let me eat you out." He can sense that you're tense. And he doesn't understand why because usually, he can slide into you with ease. But he would take his time, fingering you, rubbing your clit, turning you into an almost crying, whimpering mess.

He would obligingly ignore his cock, twitching and throbbing in anticipation, taking his time to work on your tightness, stroking your back. "Shh, it's alright, we'll take our time."

He would love to watch how beautiful you are, with your ass up and chest against the mattress, and your head buried in a pillow. What a stunning sight. The way your pussy is messing up on the bedsheets is quite stunning.

He would use the fact you're unable to see him to his advantage, teasing you, running his fingers along your slit, then rubbing his cockhead, mixing his pre-cum with your wetness. "Please…"

Please keep begging, it's a lullaby to his ears.

And finally, he would grab your hips firmly, filling you up to the hilt in one go, hitting your cervix. He would fight against his own desire to destroy you by digging into your soft flesh with his fingers. His strong grip would leave bruises on your skin tomorrow.

With his huge cock nestled deep inside you, almost splitting you in half, he would let out a shaky breath. So good. So intoxicating. As you lie down, at his mercy, the sight of his cock slowly thrusting in and out of your tight hole, all stretched out around his thickness... it's too much to handle. As he plows into you from behind, he would moan. His member, all glistening and shining, covered in your wetness, the way your ass is swallowing him...

He just can't.

His hands would be glued to your ass cheeks all the time. "You keep sucking me in, it won't let me go."

He would try his best to stay nice. Stretching you out slowly. Even with slow strokes, his size is so overwhelming that it drives you crazy. Holding onto the bedsheets, closing your eyes, all you're allowed to do is imagine his jaw tightly clenched and his muscular body looming over you.

"Does it feel good, Y/N?"

The instant you say yes and he feels you loose around his thickness, he will smash into you roughly, grunting loudly, slapping your ass, intoxicated by your you. And you alone.

Corazon

CW : Body worship, praises, face sitting, protected sex, wholesome, soft sex

To end on a sweet note, the lovely Rosinante.

Let's assume it's your first time ending up in the same bed. Rosinante is always kind to you, and you know he won't do anything to hurt you. But still, if you explain to him you're nervous because he's big and also because you're always a bit stressed when it comes to sex… then, Rosinante would just be even more sweet.

"Sweetie, we'll take it slow. You trust me?"

He would be both careful and nervous due to his goofiness. What if he just falls on you? What if he crushes you with his weight? What if... oh, no, he's thinking too much again, his hands twitching on your body.

"It's okay Rosi, I trust you."

As you ease him down, he would kiss every nook and cranny of your body: neck, collarbone, breasts, stomach, belly button,... leaving red lipstick streaks all over.

His large, heavy, and yet kind hands would hungrily roam your figure, your shoulders, learning each of your curves, scars, and every single part that makes you, you. He would make you love everything you hate about yourself, making you feel safe and loved.

His hands would be soft and heavenly as he fondled your breasts, mesmerized by how warm and soft they felt against his big palms. Well, he's still goofy, so he might accidentally pinch you or scratch your nipple, apologizing again and again with wet puppy eyes.

And slowly, his hands and mouth would continue to explore your skin, kissing your lower stomach, and slowly reaching for your damping wet panties. "So wet for me."

He's genuinely amazed. Rosinante would be in awe: does he attract you so much? He just wants to smile warmly at you.

He would accidentally rip your panties apart, and then apologizes again. Please, just laugh or reassure him. After all, his goofiness is adorable.

He would be incredibly sweet if you're a bit nervous about exposing yourself fully to him. "Sweetie, I swear you're mesmerizing. So perfect and beautiful, I want to love every inch of your skin". While slowly running his hands along your inner thighs. "It's alright, sweetie. Just open your legs for me. Can you do this for me?"

If you're still nervous, then Rosinante would lie down and allow you to sit on his face with your wet pussy pressed against his lips. Rosinante would love to eat you out while rubbing his hands along your back, ass, and thighs. Soft kisses on your clit, hungry tongue drinking your juice while it flows down on his chin.

He would gently massage your bottom while slowly sucking on your clit and swirling his tongue. Rosinante would just love to have your thighs squeezing his cheeks. Move, all you want against his tongue, all he wants is to satisfy you and soothe all of your worries. His focus will only be on you, regardless of how hard his cock is.

He would slowly slide a thick finger inside you, curling it nicely to hit that sweet spot, making sure you're ready and aware of what's happening. The way you moan his name and use his mouth as you please is mesmerizing.

With two fingers gently stretching out, Rosinante would continue to worship your body with his hands and tongue. He's probably trying to hide his coughs because he's suffocating with his face stuck between your thighs. But who cares. The way you taste is like heaven.

If you want to cum, he would allow you to cum against his lips. If you want to stop before reaching ecstasy, that's okay too.

"I'm ready for you, Rosi."

Totally flushed and nervous, Rosi would let you ride him. He's too stressed by his goofiness, so it's better if you take the lead. And at least, you can control the rhythm and depth.

Rosinante would definitely use a condom. But, he would struggle to open the packaging and then roll the protection over his length due to his nervousness, excitement, and goofiness. His big, shaking hands would likely cause him to split one or two condoms. Please, help this poor boy.

The shows continue with the lube. It's likely that he would let the bottle to fall, spilling all of the liquid onto both your belly and his hands. "I'm so sorry, sweetie!" And he would stupidly try to steal some lube from your stomach to smear it over his length. You can't help but laugh warmly, caressing his hair. "It's okay Rosi, relax."

His heart melts as you straddle him, his length twitching and leaking wildly. He's big, both in length and girth, and he's aware of it. He would allow you to take all of your time to prepare yourself. The way he looks at you tells how much he cares about you and how honored he feels to have you by his side.

"Whenever you want, Y/N" with his deep, soothing and soft voice.

As he feels your tight entrance against his cockhead, he would bite his lips, grabbing the bedsheets tightly. Because he would never dare hold you roughly and leave bruises on your body. When he sees that you're still a bit nervous, he would sit up while you're still straddling him. He would slowly raise your hips before easing his cock inside you. Pushing gently, each inch, slowly yet steadily. "Shh, it's okay, I've got you, you're taking me so well. You're so perfect for me."

He would hold you tightly as you sit down on his lap, your breasts pressed against his chest. "It's okay sweetie, you're doing great, it's okay, almost there, just a little more, you feel so good around me." With his hands squeezing your hips to keep you still.

His entire body would be shaking. The sensations are overwhelming for both of you. You're so tight, so wet, and his huge cock is stretching you so nicely, throbbing inside you.

He would soothe your back gently as he finally penetrates you fully, his large size stretching you out even further. "There it's over. Look at you, taking all of my cock so well. You're such a brave girl. "

He would slowly guide your hips up and down, unable to handle how good it feels. " I've got you, let me take care of you."

A lot of kisses, soft, heavenly touches, his breath deep against your breath as he continues to slide gently yet firmly inside you. He would praise you all the time, worshiping your body. A bit goofy from time to time, loweering you to roughly down his cock, scratching you or biting your lips instead of kissing you softly.

But a really, really sweet moment, and a lot of cuddles during the aftercare.

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arkhammaid · 8 months

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THIGH RIDING.

fandom. honkai star rail

pairing. argenti, blade, dan heng, gepard, jing yuan, seele x gn!reader

content warnings. nsfw, MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, thigh riding, not edited/proofread

word count .0.7k

notes. for my favorite whores and our obession with thighs <3 edit: welt does not have a part in this fic!! i copy pasted this whole text above with infos abt the fic from another one and forgot to delete his name, very sorry :(

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ argenti.

to argenti, beauty was elegance, close to perfection. this is what he aspired to be, a knight touched and blessed by the gods themselves— just not in warfare. but seeing you like this, the first time, messy and whiny on his lap, your skin flushed and eyes shiny with tears refusing to roll down your cheeks— it’s truly mind blowing. he’s enchanted, the way you move your hips, grind yourself hard on his thigh and hearing the whimpers that escape your lips. you’re a mess but you’re still oh so beautiful.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ blade.

he knows how much you enjoy riding his thighs. he knows it and he will use it against you, finding amusement in your eyes focusing on the garter belts he likes to put on, when you really should focus on something else. he will tease you for hours, not coming near you and making sure you don’t get any wrong ideas. when he finally thinks the torture is enough and you deserve some mercy, he will haul you towards the bedroom and place you on his thigh. and even then, when you’re slowly but surely loosing your mind, he doesn’t help you. instead he leans back and watches you with half lidded eyes, how you whine and pant on his lap.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ dan heng.

dan heng simply enjoys thigh riding because you find pleasure in it. he was first confused, why you wanted to ride his thighs, when he had a dick you could ride so much better, but then were clinging onto him, calling out his name while you chased your orgasm. and he could only hold your hips, utterly enchanted by every noise and movement you did, watching how you came undone on his thigh. and you? you love sitting on his lap, a thigh between your legs and grinding on his muscles, chasing your peak with frantic moving hips, all while he murmured low praise in your ears, eager to see you shake in his arms.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ gepard.

gepard is always the more flushed between the both of you when you ride him, be it his dick or his thighs. but there is something different when you make a mess of yourself and drag him with you, his uniform soiled and wrinkled, just because you’ve been riding his thighs until you were shaking in his arms. it overwhelms him every time, your moans and high pitched whines filling his ears and fogging his mind, your whimpers making him lightheaded— even when it’s you, who always comes undone on his lap, it’s him that ends up as a complete mess.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ jing yuan.

jing yuan thinks it’s amusing, the way you’re so fixated on his thighs. be it in his uniform or out of duty clothes, you always try to find a way to admire them. and your enthusiasm, when he asks you if you want to ride his thigh, only confirms it to him. you ride them as if it’s his dick, hips frantic while you grip his shoulders, head thrown back while moans escape out of your mouth oh so shamelessly. it’s amusing to him, to see how fast and hard you can cum by simply riding his thighs— sometimes even harder when you’re in the office and you’re ruining his pristine uniform. and he loves to share his amusement with you, teasing words making you shudder while you plead for him to stop and do so much more— oh how he loves it when you come undone.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ seele.

seele knows about the enjoyment thigh riding can bring, but she can’t lie, she prefers you to be the one doing the riding. the feeling of your legs around hers, your arousal wetting her muscles and helping you to glide over her skin smoothly— all these sensations, paired with your oh so pretty moans and whines, it’s truly heaven for her. to see you so messy is akin to seeing you free, free with your desires and passions, for her eyes only. and to see you above her, gasping for air while your whole body shudders, is one of many fantasies she can witness as much as she wants.

ARKHAM MAID 2023

#argenti x reader #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #seele x reader #argenti smut #blade smut #dan heng smut #gepard smut #jing yuan smut #seele smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations #after dark <3

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megumishotgf · 2 months

Text

pov: megumi has a crush on you

summary: more megumi headcanons i fear… ya’ll like my texts way more so this is definitely written for me.

warnings: reference to catcalling? other than that sfw + gender non-specified!!

masterlist

reserved! megumi who takes his time getting to know you. he studies all your qualities and aspects personality as if one day he’ll be quizzed on your features. megumi admires your ambition and drive but most of all your tenderness and selflessness. he’s drawn to people with good and expressive hearts. people who like to help others and perform nice gestures just because they can.

attentive! megumi who focuses diligently when you’re speaking, concentrating on every single trivial detail, even those that slip absent-mindedly past your lips without much thought. he listens to you ramble on and on about your interests yet it never bores him (and he gets bored of people alright). speaks so softly with you in a tone that surprises everyone around you (mainly nobara and yuji who have never seen him so interested in another human before… he’s always this soft to animals, though).

nerdy! megumi who prefers reading non-fiction but will pick up your favourite fantasy novels just because he wants to feel close to you. seeing your eyes light up when he mentions the titles to you makes his heart swell. highlights his favourite quotes and annotates in between pages. he’ll share them with you, gaze fixated on you as your eyes scan over all of this thoughtful comments. you feel such genuine happiness knowing he has gone so far to do this for you.

sappy! megumi who picks up one of your romance suggestions next, finding himself relating to the hopelessly enamoured protagonist. again, he annotates his copies and scribbles exclamation marks when he comes across passages that resonate with his growing feelings for you. doesn’t show you these ones, of course. at least not yet.

shy! gumi who admires your kindness from afar. all the little things you go out of your way to do just to help someone else. when you assist yuuji in the kitchen with his high-protein meals or paint nobara’s nails with great precision. when you’re the first to offer your seat up for an elderly woman on the metro or when you bounce out of your seat to help your teachers carrying piles of school documents.

observant! megumi who notices all of your little habits. the kind of things that make you feel so loved and cared for when he mentions them back to you. those things that no one else really noticed even if you badly wanted it to be seen.

love-sick! megumi would configures multiple playlists about you. one playlist containing all your favourite tracks and another with all those that you recommended to him directly. the type to listen to ‘i wanna be yours’ and fall asleep to thoughts of being with you. so many random romantic playlists often come up on his spotify profile. one time he made you a physical mixtape. yes, it was mostly just love songs… you swore it was just a coincidence. mostly.

insecure! megumi who constantly thinks he could never be good enough for you. dismisses your concern when you notice him distancing himself (because somehow you can distinguish between this and his usual quietness) but can never fully push you away. feels his heartbeat accelerate when you offer him physical comfort (with less reluctance than with anyone else). hugs from you are so comforting.

touch-starved! megumi who craves your physical affection all the time and it gets very noticeable. his arms instinctively circle around your waist whenever you greet him, rushing over for a hug. at first it was always you initiating the affection, but it’s starting to feel so natural reciprocating it. your hand will subtly slip into his when you are walking around central tokyo together or you’ll cling onto his side for comfort and warmth. he worries that you’ll be able to hear his obnoxiously loud heartbeat when you do so, but nothing could make him pull away.

annoyed! megumi who glares at his friends when they tease him about your physical affection (or when they hear your nicknames for him). but at least they have the decency to wait until you’ve left, he thinks. i give them one more week, yuuji says to nobara as megumi walks away in the same direction you just went.

if looks could kill… nobody would want to experience angry! megumi. even yuuji and nobara started to feel unsettled seeing him like that after some old loser started to catcall you. you had barely registered what was called out to you before he fearfully disappeared around the corner.

kind! megumi who opens his arms for you when he sees you’re upset. sometimes struggles with verbal comfort, but he remembers how nice it is to be hugged by you, so surely this should help. it does help - and he feels his heart swell when you thank him for being there for you.

even more nervous! megumi who finally musters the courage to confess his feelings for you. rehearses the speech in his head (and surprisingly to yuuji) tens of times only to be left astounded after you make the confession first. finally kissing you felt like the sun rising after months of darkness.

megumi who has infinite amounts of layers!! getting to know him is truly a magical experience. ultimate green flag he is perfect end of discussion!!

haven’t published anything in so long… hey ya’ll. how is everyone doing. pls send requests i am out of ideas!!

#jjk x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi comfort #megumi headcanons #megumi my beloved #jjk drabbles

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 10 months

Note

can you do a ghost version of the Memories of Youth fic you did for price please?

Harvest Storms

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Daughter!Reader

SYNOPSIS: In the process of trying to keep you happy and separate from him, he was leading you down the exact path he had tried to steer you from.

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

WARNINGS: Angst, emotionally distant father/Simon, injuries, arguments, mentions of Simon's past, hurt/comfort, fluff near the end, etc.

A/N: I know this might be controversial but I really don't see Simon wanting kids so I tried to keep this realistic but also cute, lmao. Enjoy!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Simon admitted that having a kid was never on his to-do list, and it wasn’t only his job that caused that. In fact, at any point in his life, the thought alone terrified him.

His icy eyes spaced out as the man unstrapped his combat vest in the on-base armory, hucking it over his head with a tiny grunt. Muscles ached; wounds burned.

He’d known having that one-night stand wasn’t right—he should have just stuck to his perfected solitude of dark rooms and middle-of-the-night workouts. But there was only so much you could do before instinct overcame any sort of common sense; add a few drinks into the mix and the concoction had glazed over his mind like a honey-laced dream.

And then nine months later a single text. A photo attachment.

“She’s yours.” His child. His daughter. Simon had a daughter.

It had taken weeks of self-isolation to figure out what to do. There were moments of very real panic—bone-deep worry and hatred. He couldn’t be a father and still be the Ghost that he was now, but there wasn’t a way to reverse his already damaged psyche. Home in Manchester didn’t feel like a real place anymore; home was a gun in his hands and his mask over his face. Slumping bodies and adrenaline-blown pupils. The high he got out of killing could never be topped by the joys of having a family he didn’t want.

But then he remembered his own father and the guilt that had struck him at that moment left Simon physically sick. Head pounding and bile lacing his tongue as he retched over a toilet. It would have been easier to just promise money, and give over some of what he earned to give you a future. He could distance himself but still be a shadow on the wall if it all went south.

Yes, it could have been easy.

Until your mother up and disappeared; leaving you all alone. There was no way in hell he could leave you in foster care. The stories he’d heard…

Simon’s gloved hands flex, joints cracking, before he checks the watch on his wrist with slow-blinking eyes. He needed to be home in two hours.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” A groan escapes, rolling his shoulders twice before grasping at his thigh holster—slipping out the X12 to place it down with a small thump of black metal.

These movements were entirely routine and soon there was a neat line of multiple knives, the pistol, an automatic rifle, frag grenades, med pack, rope, and anything else that Ghost could have even the slightest possibility of needing in a tight spot. Through it all, the mask stayed; icy eyes behind the spread of black face paint numb.

It’s one hour later that he’s done cleaning and putting everything away with tired fingers. Feet shuffle before he’s exiting the armory all together, snatching the large duffle bag near the double doors; a small grunt plays out of his chest. The strap is dragged over his head when Soap passes him in the base’s hallway.

All Simon could do is hold back a groan as a headache already begins to form.

“Lt.” The Scot calls, smile pulling his lips up, “off to go hide in back-alleys, then?”

“Jesus, Johnny, shut the fuck up already.” Ghost grumbles out, hands slipping into his pockets as he continues off down the hallway. Behind him, the mohawked Sergeant belts out a laugh before disappearing into the armory Simon had just vacated.

“Copy and check, Sir!” Sarcasm bleeds out and makes icy eyes fall half-closed with subdued annoyance.

The large phantom continues on until he exits the base and digs his keys out of his pockets—finding his car in the underground parking garage exactly where he had left it two months prior. As if on autopilot, he shuffles open the door and tosses his bag in the back before sitting in the front seat and twisting the ignition.

Reaching into the glove compartment, Simon pulls out a clean balaclava and holds it loosely—his opposite hand slipping up to the skeletal mask of his head and feeling the fibers on his fingertips. Replacing it swiftly, the clean fabric slips over his face with a stiff movement of his arm. Seconds later, his foot presses into the gas.

There are no words spoken, no comments under breath, just a silence that seems to stem from some underlying anxiety completely foreign to Simon on the field. Going home always made him nervous. A soul-digging kind of hesitation.

It takes him the rest of that last hour to drive home—a tiny little country house far removed from Manchester though still leaving it well guarded by local law-enforcement patrols. A perfect mix of safety and distance that had been the driving force in Simon’s initial purchase of it. But it wasn’t his only properly, not by a long shot.

Like a rat, the holes of his paranoia ran deep into the earth.

He pulls the car into the dirt driveway and kills the vehicle. Outside in the darkening sky, his eyes slide to watch over the top of the garden wall; seeing tree branches sway in a subdued breeze. Sitting there for a few moments, the man just ends up shaking his head and shoving open the door with his shoulder.

Veins tighten under his flesh.

“Kid!” Simon raps on the front door with his knuckles when his boots take him over and up the steps, voice gravelly. A house key slips into the lock, turning over before the barrier opens. Ghost stomps in and immediately knows the entire home is completely empty.

He blinks in confusion, looking over the still air and dull noises. The AC unit whirls; the fridge shakes. No feet on the floor—no groan or sly comment.

You were a teenager now, but the absence of your aura was harsh to him. You were supposed to be here. The Manchester man’s lips thin.

“Christ, don’t go and tell me she’s fuckin’ gone again…” Simon kicks the door shut and lets his bag fall from his fingers, feeling his chest tighten slowly. He beelines to the kitchen where, sure enough, a note from the far-off neighbor who keeps an eye on you when he’s gone was sitting with its delicate font.

Fast fingers snatch it like a snake, jaw clenched and tight grip creasing the paper. He reads with a growing disappointment.

“She got into a fight out of school again—black eye and bruised knuckles. I’m sorry, Mr. Riley, but I couldn’t get a hold of you to tell you about it. I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father. When you read this, I’ll have tried to make her come back inside but I was unsuccessful. I left supper at the base of the hill and a blanket. I’m sorry. I’ll be at my home if you need me.”

Simon places the note down and runs a hand up and down his face, a deep sigh exiting his lips as his fingers cover his jaw and chin. Like the definition of fatigue, his body lightly bows forward. Slouched shoulders.

This would make the fifth fight this year.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

After a minute of mute irritation, the man drops his hands and goes to the freezer, taking out an ice pack with a small glint of further emotion stinted in his gaze. There are so many things that Simon feels for you—some of which he would never be able to properly express.

He’s not a good man. Not someone to look up to or place on a pedestal. He’s in the 141 because he can do a job; a job that not many others can do simply for the fact that something in him was broken. Shattered beyond repair.

Simon was never meant for this.

The blond placed the ice pack into a rag from the drawer and exited through the back door of the house. Grunt stuck in his throat at the thought of the delinquent activities you seemed to always get up to when he was gone which, admittingly, was more often than not.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

But wasn’t he doing a good thing by staying away? He took you in—provided food, water, shelter, and anything else you could need. What was he doing wrong?

Simon’s brows tighten as the chilled air hits him as a winder wind would. By now the sun had fully set and the darkness was becoming more black than blue by the second; dim twinklings from stars dancing in the pupils of his eyes. His feet take him off the back porch and easily finds a small trail that leads through the barren garden all the way to a hill in the distance.

Icy blue easily finds the tiny hunched being at the very top. His hand tightens over the ice pack.

Ghost was unable to understand, of course, he hadn’t had the kind of childhood people would want—was never around kids in general. No friends with little brats running around, obviously. Was this a normal kind of thing kids did? Start fights?

He’d heard some things about teenagers.

Closing his tired eyes for a moment, Simon silently walks past the plate of food at the foot of the hill but snatches the fluffy blanket that had been beside it. If you don’t want to eat he won't force you, but it was getting cold out quickly.

Simon wasn’t letting you catch a bug.

He huffs as he ascends the slope, all the aches and pains finally making themself more known in his thighs and abdomen.

You hear him coming when he’s three-fourths of the way there.

Your red eyes widen in shock, hands that had been trapping your legs to your chest rising to wipe the tears on your cheeks away aggressively; frantic. Three seconds later a heavy fabric hits your head and you tense, widely looking up into the dead eyes of your father.

The blanket thumps to the ground beside you in a heap.

“Put it on,” he grunts from behind his balaclava and your surprised expression slowly sours.

You turn away with a growl. “Don’t want to.”

“Bloody ‘ell, just put it on,” there’s no acidity behind the words, but the annoyance is clear. “Asking to get fuckin’ sick at this rate, are you? I’m not cleanin’ up your vomit from the floor when you're hunched over like a mutt on drugs.”

Not a stranger to his humor, but with a venom-laced look, you grab the blanket as Simon sits next to you and end up throwing it over your shoulders. Your face hurt too much to talk for long periods—right eye swollen and radiating heat; hands weren't that much better, the knuckles puffy and blood-flooded under the skin. It made you flinch when you had to clench your fingers.

You’re acutely aware of your father’s presence. How he sits with his spine bent with one hand behind him; legs laying out flat. You should be happy he’s back safe in one piece, but in reality, there would be little change if he never showed back up at all.

The house was always silent anyways. Dead. Simon was as much a stranger to you as he was to everyone else.

“What did I tell you when I went away, eh?” The man asks you lowly when you’ve settled, and you grit your teeth and look out over the landscape, long grass swaying in the wind. “Kid.”

“Don’t get into any more fights.” Words are stiff, reflective of both of your muscles and hearts.

“Affirmative. You want to explain to me what you did?”

“Got into another fight.” An icepack is tossed near you, bouncing in the grass. You scoff but take it, softly applying it to your face with a concealed flinch. Shame permeates in your ribs, a desperate need to prove yourself. “I didn’t mean to—”

“That’s not an excuse.” Simon glares at you from the side of his eye, utterly serious. “When I tell you something, you listen, yeah?”

“...Yeah,” you grit your teeth and clench your hands, a bitter huff leaving your lips. “Sure.”

A tense silence keeps you in its clutches, the kind of silence that stems from two people who really have no idea how to speak or understand one another.

“No more fighting,” Simon grits out, “now show me.”

“It’s not that bad—”

“Show me it.” Your face burns as you slip the ice pack away and turn your face his way, meeting your father’s gaze head-on and seeing his lids slightly pull back. You spy his hand clenching in the grass, ripping strands out like hair from a head.

“Happy?” You sarcastically ask, turning back forward and putting the ice pack back into your socket.

It’s a long while before he speaks to you again, and you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your face when he does. Your heart rampages at the deathly slow and tiny voice.

“Why?” The question makes your body flair with anger and you grip the pack tighter, feeling the ice shift in your grip as you clench it violently. You feel your fingers twitch when you answer, unconsciously closing into fists.

“Why?” You glare at him, “Why the hell do you care?”

Simon’s eyes go blank, brows going up his head. Gazes lock and you’re suddenly standing to your feet, chucking the ice pack right into his chest. It only makes you madder when he catches it easily, glancing down at the object before slowly shifting his numb eyes back to you.

“You’re never fucking here, what’s the point in telling you anything about me?” Your father’s face is covered, but the mask is more than just physical—it’s a part of him in every sense. You don’t know what he is, but you see his lungs going still in his ribs. You splay your hands around you as the blanket hits the ground at your feet. “It wouldn’t even make a difference if you never came back! Even when you’re here it barely even matters beyond who’s dishes are in the sink.”

Bitter tears spring to your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, a tight itch in your skin. Slight guilt hits you when you shove out such harsh words, but you don’t care enough right now to think about what you’re saying. Everything just hits a breaking point. Shaking your head you scoff again, weaker this time. “You don’t even know the first things about me and you want me to try and explain why I do the things I do?”

Simon watches and listens, stone still. It’s as if he doesn’t even breathe; his pulse doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. If you would have been able to see it, you’d have noticed the way the large man’s lips were slightly parted.

He wasn’t averse to arguments, he yelled on Ops and cursed aggressively on duty, but he had made a stark promise to himself to never yell at you. If there was one thing that reminded him of his father—it was that. Explosive fights that only ended one way.

What you were saying was everything he knew to be true. This came to him in a slow and silent realization of growing pain. Simon didn’t know your favorite color or what food you loved. Your interests or your goals.

He knew how much you spent on snacks at the store, but didn’t know what you bought.

Ghost clenches his jaw and watches your resolve deteriorate with a heavy heart. What was he supposed to do? He was your father, sure, but…he didn’t know the first things that went with anything beyond giving you items and objects.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

How could he be a father to you?

Simon clears his throat, for once in his life completely unable to pull on any sort of skill to rectify this situation. You take his silence as blatant disregard.

With a burning face, you sniffle and twist on your heel, speed-walking down the hill back into the house. Your brain is pounding in your head, just as fast as your heart when you finally stomp through the garden and shove open the back door.

Simon doesn’t tell you to stop.

Left on that hill, he watches your back disappear into the house and gets a rabid pain in his stone heart. You were his daughter. You were hurt; neglected. He’d never felt like this before.

Simon had failed the only job that he knew was far more important than any other. Blue darkens into a color reminiscent of storm clouds.

“Fuckin’ Christ.” Standing, he snatches at the ice pack and the blanket, lightly jogging down the mound of earth. In no time he’s standing in the house again, having completely forgotten about the plate of food outside. It’s the tense set of his shoulders that really give away how unprepared he feels. How out of his expertise.

Give Simon a gun and he’d be able to take it apart and reassemble it in one minute; a knife and he’d have it sharp in seconds.

Simon Riley has no idea how to be a good father and he’s suddenly very aware of how fast the window is closing to try. You were his blood and his responsibility. He can’t end up like his own father.

The thought almost makes him sick again, stomach rolling with anxiety.

Inside the house, he tosses the items in his grip onto the couch and whispers past into the hallway to your room. Fingers twitching, he grabs at his balaclava before ripping it from his head; stuffing it into his pants pocket. Stopping in front of your room, Simon raises a hand.

Just as he’s about to shove open the door, he instantaneously stops himself with a sharp thought.

Daughter, not soldier. Home, not barracks.

Hand lowering, he takes a long and deep breath and waits a moment; gathering himself. He still didn’t know what to say…but…

God, your words hurt, but he needed to hear them because they were true.

Simon’s knuckles rasp on the wood, a series of three dull thumps that echo over the stale air. There’s a shuffling of sheets and a dull, “God, just go away!”

Cursing quietly under his breath, Simon runs his fingers through his hair tense-like; pushing back blond strands.

“Open up for me, yeah?” He tries, awkward as his hips shift weight. “Need ‘ta talk to you.”

A cruel laugh exits from under the bottom of the door. “You? Talk?”

Simon keeps his mouth shut and closes his eyes, pulling from the deep pit of patience he holds for on-duty missions and not mastered yet for disagreements and verbal talks. He calms down and rolls his shoulders slightly.

“Please.” A pin could drop.

It’s a long, hot-air moment before there's the padding of feet over the floor and the slight shift of the door handle. The metal jiggles before it’s twisted back with a firm hand.

Your face comes into view through the tiny crack of the door, injured eye on full display in all its swollen glory. A young face is laced with surprise at seeing your father’s bare visage—only the black face paint stuck to his skin—but even more so at his plea. There were only a few times you’d actually seen him and even fewer when you’d hear something like that. Simon stops himself from getting angry at the sight of your wound, staring down at you as his gaze softens just a fraction of a sliver.

He recalls the moment he had first held your form when he had picked you up at hospital years ago. You were so small, squirming in his foreign grip. The nurse had to tell him how to hold you properly—what to do and what not to do.

It had been the first time that Simon could really say he’d been terrified down to his marrow; sweating and lips pulled tight. This being so small it couldn’t do anything by itself had rendered him frozen with unease like he had been stabbed in the heart. Your eyes had looked up at him with trust and love. You hadn’t cried or screamed at his hidden face, even if he thought you should have…you’d done something worse.

You had reached up to his face and placed your little fingers on his brow, slapping his flesh with no strength or hatred. Simon’s gaze never left you for hours after you’d done that, uncharacteristically warm and rendered mute to all else.

Tiny. Weak. Innocent.

How could anybody ever leave you? Hurt you? But the man had been petrified; utterly fearful to the point he would begin shaking when you’d begin crying for a bottle.

In the process of trying to keep you happy and separate from him, he was leading you down the exact path he had tried to steer you from.

“What?” Your crestfallen voice brings him back and he blinks, expression going blank once more. But he tries.

“Can I come in?”

“I don’t know—are you going to give a lecture?” You ask, eyes red and other hand still holding the door handle. Simon breathes out a grunted sigh.

“Negative, Moppet, no lecture.” He relaxes his posture, eye bags plainly visible. He was so tired his fingers had gone numb. “Jus’ need ‘ta…” Words fail him. What did he need to do?

Simon clears his throat, looking off down the hallway before his eyes drift back to you.

“You land a hit, then?” You blink in silent shock at the graveled question, a hitch in your lungs giving way to confusion.

“I…” your feet shuffle, face burning, “what?”

One of your father’s large hands goes up to rub the back of his neck, fingers creating red lines across his flesh as his chest rises and falls. You could immediately tell he had no idea what he was doing.

But…he was trying.

“A hit,” he vaguely gestures to your eye, staring intensely. “Did you get ‘em back?”

It’s a vague few moments before you respond, oddly touched by the question. Your door opens the slightest bit wider.

“More than one person,” you admit hesitantly. Your father’s gaze darkens but you quickly continue. “T-they look worse than me right now.”

Simon nods stiffly, hands going to slide into his pockets. “That’ll do,” a pause, “...‘cause I can’t beat up teenagers without getting into a fuckin’ heap ‘o shit.”

Your heart lurches with amusement and a small smile grows on your face. You stare, still just a tiny bit confused at the sudden shift, but unable to stop the chuckle you let out. He doesn’t know how to describe the feeling in his chest when his ears twitch at the sound of your humor, yet Simon pulls a smirk to his lips. It made him…content, you could say.

“Who said they were teenagers?” you smirk, tinting your head, and your father immediately frowns, unamused. Brows pull in.

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“No, it isn’t. Shut your bloody trap.” The air lightens to a degree you hadn’t experienced before. A silence settles before you break it, vision darting down to spy on the dog tags Simon wears.

“...How long are you staying?” The man hums, licking his lips.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

“I’m off as long as it takes to get you to stop picking fights, yeah?” Your fingers flinch and you stare into eyes that are always like ice, except now try to melt themselves into a chilled puddle.

“Change of heart?” You ask, voice subdued. A bitter hope builds in your veins.

Simon motions with his chin for you to open the door to your room and you do, elbowing it to the side before backing up—letting your father’s large frame enter.

He looks around for a moment at the posters and the bits of personality, glaring internally at himself because he didn’t know what you liked at all. He seems disappointed with his own negligence.

He’d really fucked up.

“C’mere,” Simon goes and snatches your desk chair before he whirls it around, “lemme take a proper look at it.” His hand pats the top of the wood and you listen, going to it and sitting down softly.

Your father kneels in front of you, bones cracking, and he delicately grabs hold of your chin to tilt your head to the side with practiced ease. You avoid his eyes, hands in your lap held tight together in this silence that brews from shared thorns.

Simon has to take a deep breath to get his head out of his rage at the sight of your damaged skin; instinctual reaction to guard you rearing its head even more so now that he can see the injury in the dim light of your desk lamp. His thumb caresses the side of the swelling with intense care.

“Won’t die,” is all he can say, voice hard and strained. “Lucky you, eh?” You scoff and his hands leave—there wasn’t much he could do. “Moppet.”

Eyes slide up to his and his grip finds your bicep, squeezing once. You’re momentarily locked at the sight of real concern in his glinting orbs; a once in a blue moon occurrence.

“Give me your word.” Simon levels firmly, feet shifting. “No more of this. You’re gonna end up gettin’ hurt—badly—you got that?”

“They were calling soldiers cannon fodder.” You glare at your hands in your lap, mumbling out the truth with a burning face mixed with shame and honesty. Your father goes silent. “That they weren’t even good enough for bullets.”

Jaw clenching, you rotate your wrist and feel the flare of pain from the joints. A deep sigh exits from Simon and with a hesitant clench of his jaw, his hand travels to the back of your head. He presses firmly, and your face finds the junction of his neck and shoulder with little fight. Tense in the beginning, you slowly breathe in sweat and tarmac with a gradual loosening feeling in your muscles.

Eyes wide, you slowly begin to return the strange embrace. Your father flinches lightly when your fingers slip along his waist, hands grabbing into his shirt. But like you, time makes him calm—the side of his face connects with the side of your scalp, lashes fluttering closed tightly.

It was you. His daughter. Innocent.

The emotions are so foreign to you that it brings a burning behind your eyes as the minutes lengthen.

Simon can’t even begin to process it, it just felt natural to do such things for you. If there was one thing he did know—it was that he didn’t want to see you in pain or suffering; hurt or eyes filled with pain. His hands slip to bring you up into his arms like you were a baby again, carrying you easily as your nose sniffles with restrained tears. You’re placed in your bed with a delicate plop, icy eyes darting over you until it seems a decision is made with a quick nod.

You watch him leave and return seconds later with a pile of manilla folders in his hands. Your father grunts softly, “Go to sleep. It’s late out,” and drops the items to your desk, sitting down with a huff and a squeal from your chair. The air is warm and you sit in it a moment longer.

Eyes blink at the silhouette before a small smile builds on your lips—genuine and warm like a weighted blanket.

“How long are you gonna be there?” You ask your father, grasping the covers and slipping under as your head hits the pillow; making sure to stay on the uninjured side.

He doesn’t turn around.

“All night. Need ‘ta get this shite done for my boss.” You don’t know why, but you feel like he’s lying. Simon looks over his shoulder with a tone dipping to a whisper. “Sleep, Kid. We’ll get those knuckles sorted in the morning.”

Of course, he’d noticed that, too.

“Dad?” You ask and his spine straightens instantly at the title. It’s a long time before he answers and when he does his emotion is the softest you’ve ever heard him; gravel so deep you almost miss the words entirely.

“What is it?”

“Goodnight.” Simon’s hands shake as they open the first folder in the small stack, small tremors that are both horrible and endearing. He doesn’t say anything until you’re fast asleep behind him—when he stands up and walks over, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pulling the covers farther up to your chin.

Into your skin, he whispers, “...Goodnight, my little Moppet.”

Simon wonders if his daughter likes eggs for breakfast as his pen slides over the first report, one eye forever staying on your slumbering body to watch the rise and fall of your lungs.

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buckyalpine · 2 years

Note

Oooooh I have an idea !!!!!! Fuckboy Bucky falling in love with you ! He’s begging you for a chance , one which you deny continuously knowing his reputation. He sends you the fluffiest texts , pictures of things that remind him of you but you won’t budge ! And one night , you’re drunk while all of you are out ! He keeps you close all night and then he takes you home ! He’s a gentleman . So you’re more than surprised to find him sleeping on your couch the next morning !! He greets you with a smile and then you thank him , give him a small peck and finally grant him that date he’s been begging for months for

college fuckboy buck x f reader

OOOH I love Fuckboy bucky, his name is Bunky btws. Bucket is the cheater, Bunky is a fuckboy but he can be redeemed so we all still love him. "Come onnn y/n" Bucky groaned, having asked you out for the 4th time this year. "Please? Just give me a chance, one date, please?"

You rolled your eyes while he leaned against your car, having trailed behind you after your class finished.

"Please?" He gave you his best puppy eyes, his bottom lip jutting out into an almost convincing pout but you willed yourself to ignore how adorable he looked. No. It wasn't worth getting your heart broken.

"No thank you Barnes, I don't want to join your roster"

You got into your car, shutting the door without waiting for him to respond, mostly because you were worried you'd break and agree to going on a date. Bucky sighed, watching you pull out of the parking lot without looking back; he really did like you. A lot. He wasn't great with emotions, he bottled up his feelings and deflected his emotions. He distracted himself with girl after girl but you were never just a distraction. You were different to him. You were really sweet. You helped him with his papers. You helped him take notes in class. He didn't intend on falling in love with you but here he was now, begging and pleading and chasing, hoping one day you'd say yes.

*****

You heard your phone ping, opening your lock screen to see a text message from Bucky.

"Thank you for the study notes, you really are a sweet heart"

You shook your head, snorting to yourself, he was probably copying and pasting the same text message to the other four girls he spoke to in class. It was bad enough you actually found him cute; he was well aware of how charming he was. You truthfully hated it. He was attractive, sweet, tall and the biggest fuckboy you knew. He didn't do relationships. Your phone pinged again to yet another message. It was a picture of a little golden lab sitting in his lap, the both of them having nearly identical facial expressions. Large twinkling eyes, an innocent but not so innocent face, fluffy hair (and fur).

"Saw this puppy, thought you'd like it"

"Guess which puppy I was referring to"

"Get it? Because were both adorable?"

You bit back a smile, immediately frowning afterwards. No. You would not be going down that rabbit hole with him. You only gave him your number so you could arrange study meets but Bucky took advantage of it, sending sweet messages and pictures of things that reminded him of you.

"My ma found my teddy bear from when I was little, reminded me of the one you have on your lockscreen" (Picture of a fluffy brown bear with the words Baby JBB embroidered on the front)

"Remember when we got coffee after studying late at the library?" (picture of a coffee cup and heart sugar cookie)

"It's sweet like you" (picture of a mini cupcake)

You sighed, scolding yourself every time your heart fluttered. No. It didn't matter how much he tried. You wouldn't give in. You wouldn't budge.

*****

Your body felt heavy and light at the same time, just a couple of drinks in. More than a couple. Many. You could feel the bass of the music thump through your whole body, swaying freely on the club dancefloor, seeing a familiar face in the crowd off to the side.

"Y/n?"

"Buckkyyyy" You slurred out, giggling while you stumbled towards, falling into his arms. He caught you with ease, holding you close to him, his heart racing because he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable being so close to him. You bounced on your heels, still swaying to the music while still in his hold, completely in your own world.

"Careful doll, are you okay?" He chuckled while you gave him a hazy smile, your eyes glazed over, letting out a tiny yawn. Your face heated up hearing him call you doll, you hated how much it made you feel giddy on the inside.

"Yessssss" You nodded your head, your eyes closed because you were starting to feel tired. "M'not drunkkk"

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm, very sure Buck" You mumbled, burying your face into his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne and something that was distinctly him. Like warmth...home...your heart...no. Nope. You tried to pull away but your body betrayed you, snuggling further into him as he held you.

“Think you might be lying y/n” Bucky snickered leading you to sit in a quieter lounge area of the club. You didn’t hesitate to crawl into his lap, throwing your arms around his shoulder with your face nuzzled into his neck. You squirmed until you felt comfy, sighing contently when you felt his arms around you again.

You pulled away from him suddenly, cupping his face to make him look at you; you looked at him with wide eyes as if you just realized something. Bucky watched you curiously, his heart braking because your adorable drunk antics were only making him fall for you more. He only wanted one chance.

“I think I like Bucky” You whispered while squeezing his cheeks together, making his lips pout. “I have a crush on him”

Bucky bit back a smirk, his cheeks blushing while you continued to look at him with owlish eyes, waiting for his response.

“Really? You think so?”

You nodded vigorously, slapping your hand over his mouth before he could say anything more.

"Shhhh don't tell anyone, its a secret" You continued to whisper, your hand trailing down to his chest to play with his chain. Bucky couldn’t tell what was worse; how sweet you were when you were like this, the fact that you just openly said you liked him and the fact that he had no chance with you. Even if your drunken ramblings were saying one thing, he didn’t want to keep pressuring you.

“M’sleepy” You stretched on him like a cat before snuggling into him again. Bucky smiled softly, carefully lifting you in his arms, getting into a cab to take you home.

“Do you have the keys doll?” Bucky gently nudged you while you clung onto him outside of your door, mumbling something about them being in your purse. Bucky fished them out, opening the door and carrying you in, kicking his shoes off before taking you to your room. You sighed happily feeling your soft bedsheets about to fall asleep again but Bucky wasn’t having it. He knew you wouldn’t want to just fall asleep with your makeup and dress on. He cleared a bit of space on your sink counter before coming to get you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” He carried you to the bathroom, setting you on the counter. He grabbed some of your makeup wipes, removing your makeup and lashes while you kicked your feet, looking at him with heart eyes. His touch was warm and gentle, grabbing a bit of moisturizer to finish off. He massaged your skin, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks, his heart beating out of his chest because he so badly wanted to lean in and kiss you.

“I brought you your sleepshirt bubs, I’ll be right outside the bathroom okay? Get changed and we’ll get you to bed”

You nodded, clumsily trying to unzip your dress but to no avail.

“Buckyyyyyy” Bucky poked his head into the bathroom, chuckling at your pouty face.

“What is it doll?”

“Take it off”

Bucky stared at you with wide eyes, had this been any other situation you wouldn’t have had to tell him twice. He held the strap of your dress up while unzipping it for you, making sure it stayed up before leaving the bathroom. You some how managed to get changed, leaning against the doorway for support while Bucky waited. He lifted you in his arms and helped you under the sheets before tucking you into bed. He grabbed a glass of water and some pain medication to keep by your bedside table while you started to fall asleep.

“Good night y/n”

“Good night baby” You smiled in your sleep, softly snoring within seconds. Baby. He knew he was head over heels in love with you. Bucky made his way to your living room, crashing on your couch for the night incase you needed anything in the middle of the night. He checked on you twice to make sure you were okay, blushing each time he saw your adorable curled up form. He would have given anything to be able to cuddle up with you and hold you close to him.

******

You rubbed your eyes, still feeling a little disoriented. You were home. How did that happen? You remembered dancing....and then...

You crawled out of bed, surprised to find a glass of water and pain meds on your bedside. Who put them there? You were grateful anyway, quickly downing all the water and taking one of the tablets. You made your way to the kitchen, gasping when you saw Bucky scrolling through his phone, sprawled on your couch.

“Bucky?”

“Good morning doll” He smiled up at you, his eyes still tired from checking up on you throughout the night.

“You brought me home?” He nodded while you hesitantly came and sat beside him, nervously biting on your lip. “You stayed here?” Some of the memories of last night flooding back. His soft hands on your face. Carrying you into bed. Tucking you in. You heard the door creak each time he checked on you.

While your heart melted, Bucky’s heart raced, fearing you thought the worst. The last thing he wanted was for you to think he took advantage of you. He scrambled to sit up properly, his puppy eyes wide.

“I promise nothing happened doll, you were tired so I called us a cab and brought you home. I helped you get ready for bed but I didn’t see anything, I just tucked you into bed and-

You lips pressed against his, cutting off his rambling,

“Thank you. Now about that date you’ve been asking for.....”

5 years later

Bucky spun you around, pulling you towards him, his hands holding your waist close to him. Every time you thought he couldn’t get more handsome, he’d some how one up your expectations. Tonight he was in a dark suit, his beard trimmed,

“Y’know, you admitted you had a crush on me that day” He whispered, a cocky little smirk playing on his lips.

“When” You narrowed your eyes while he chuckled, swaying with you on the dancefloor.

“The day you fell in love with me” He stated matter of factly, while you shook your head, your skin heating up. The affect he had on you never went away.

“Who said I fell in love with you Barnes. All I did was agree to go out on a date with you”

“And what else did you agree to” He wiggled his eyebrows, pecking a kiss onto your nose.

“I didn’t agree to anything else” You shrugged, giggling when he dipped you, nipping your jaw, earning a bunch of whoops and whistles from the crowd.

“Well you already said I do today, Mrs. Barnes”

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@glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479

@beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore

@jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale

@littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes

@inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649

@brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings

@psychomanniac-blog blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth

@matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos

@lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp

@potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath

@morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958

@spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie

@geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork

@alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes

@charmedbysarge @samfreakingwinchester @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7

@alina02 @gh0stgurl @batprincess1013

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s-nnoh · 1 year

Text

since it's topical: nintendo has started offering refunds for scarlet/violet. in case you were disappointed in the game/couldn't play due to the bugs & wanted your money back

link to post & link to nintendo support

if you ask for a refund, remember to be really nice to the person on the other end.

full text from the screenshot copied and pasted below:

"Without boring you with all my gripes about this game, I just got my money back for Pokemon Scarlet. A lot of people don't know this, but Nintendo will, on rare circumstances, offer a one-time refund for you.

Here's the exact steps for anyone unfamiliar:

Head on over to Nintendo's Customer Support and click on Start Chat.

Click Nintendo Switch > Downloads & Digital Content > Nintendo eShop > Refunds

You'll be connected to a chat agent, in which just tell them your experience with the game being unsatisfactory and ask if you could get a refund. Here's exactly what I said if you just want to copy/paste:

Hi there! I bought Pokemon Scarlet last night, and I played for about an hour or two and unfortunately the game runs incredibly poorly. I don’t normally reach out in these instances, but frankly I think would really appreciate a refund as I can’t see myself enjoying playing this in its current state. Would that be at all possible?

After this, they offered me the refund. They will ask for the email address of your Nintendo Account, to verify your payment information, and for the serial number of your Switch. The game will be deleted off your Switch and your payment returned.

If you genuinely are disappointed with the game, I'd strongly urge you to do this instead of complaining or trying to raise awareness of the game's issues. I highly doubt any kind of fixes are coming - especially before Christmas - and I have zero urge to play a broken game.

Anyway, try it out and upvote to spread the awareness that you actually can get a refund for a digital game."

#edit: double checked and yeahh i was right. nintendo says on its official site that they dont refund digital games #which means that scarlet/violet is broken enough that they're making an exception #pokemon

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cosmicstarlatte · 1 year

Text

You ARE The Father! (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

After getting back to the human world you realized you were pregnant. You decided to keep it a secret during your relationship. After having the baby/babies for a few weeks, you finally decide to tell your demon baby daddy.

»Characters: Demon bros // -> [Part 2: Dateables] Now available!

»Tags: Female reader/MC, Unplanned pregnancy, Humor/fluff, Bulleted Style Fic

»Note: Sorry it's kind of long. Also I imagine the babies all heavily resemble their dads. 🥺♡ I might make a part two with Diavolo and Barbatos but they will be short stories. Well, maybe. Lol

Lucifer:

"That's not funny."

Didn't believe you because how could you keep that sort of secret for months from him

You sent him a photo of you holding a very unamused baby boy with black hair and red eyes

The Avatar of Pride has fainted. I repeat, he has fainted

Didn't pack or say anything to his brothers once he woke up, he just bolted out the house to find a magic seal to travel to the human realm

Quickly let Diavolo know why he canceled their meeting whilst on the way to you

He arrived disheveled, man was sweating lol

Anyway he immediately reached for his child and cradled him

His baby's horns and wings popped out!

Barely wanted to talk to you at first, you wounded his pride...Did you think him unfit? Did you think he wouldn't accept?

He would've been there for you no matter what, it pained him that you went through everything alone

Promised to be there from now on

He hugged you and the baby "...I love you two. ♡ Come live with me. You two won't ever be in need."

Dia and Barb visited shortly to see Luci's baby!

His baby slapped everyone in the face at some point

Mammon:

"Ha! That's a good one! I always loved ya sense of humor!"

Really thought it was a joke

You decided to surprise him in person instead

You got permission from Dia to visit

You had only told Lucifer ahead of time about the surprise visit but not why

When you knocked on the door holding the white-haired baby girl Lucifer had to do a double take

"Is this..."

He smiled and excitedly held her for a minute before returning her

"Excuse me" Lucifer said as he closed the door

"MAMMOOOOOOOOON!!!"

yeah the baby started crying

You could hear the loud commotion inside

The door swung open and Mammon stared in shock along with the rest of the family behind him

"YA WERENT JOKING!? GUYS...GUYS!! I'M A DAD!!"

He cuddled his baby girl and gave her so many kisses

You guessed it, the baby sprouted horns and wings after being held by him

Was upset at himself for thinking you were joking

He demanded you move in right away

"Nothin' will break this family. I got ya both! Daddy will take care of y'all! "♡

His baby girl managed to grab his wallet and wouldn't let go

Levi:

"As if..."

Was skeptical...him? A dad? He always thought Mammon or Asmo would be first

He didn't know anything about being a dad but he was getting more excited the more he thought about it

You wouldn't lie to him about that right? RIGHT?

But why didn't you tell him sooner!? He could've been there for support like you always supported him!!

He texted you saying he would be visiting soon

He made a quick phone call to Dia for help getting to the human world

"Yeah let's not tell Lucifer yet heheheh"

He hurriedly grabbed a few figures and collectibles to go pawn off...kids are expensive!

After selling some things he bought some baby stuff and a gift for you...the mother of his child!!

When he finally made it to the human world he cried when he held his own purple-haired baby boy

The baby cried too lmao

The baby shifted into demon form & Levi wailed even more at his beautiful copy+paste baby

Both stopped crying when you played some anime on the tv

"I-I have a ring for you...w-will you marry me? I'll be the best husband and dad I can be!" ♡

He was planning on asking anyway; this just sped things up

He wasn't sure but he thinks his kid was giving him the stink eye when he was taking too much time with you...jealousy!?

Satan:

"You're telling me this now?"

Yeah he was angry

He had a hard time believing it but he knew you wouldn't lie about something like that

After the call, he grew excited and couldn't wait to visit

Told Lucifer what was going on ASAP and he let him go to you

He tried to read as much as he could from parenting books while on the way to you

He brought some gifts and offered to let you nap while he bonded with his daughter

Yeah she shifted into demon form after being held by him

He cooed at her, brushing her blonde hair lightly, remembering his own birth

"Daddy might've been an accident, but you're definitely not. Just a beautiful surprise. ♡"

He would do anything you asked of him, he just wanted to take care of his own little family

"Hey listen to me...I won't ever let you two down. I swear it.♡"

His daughter angrily yanked the new kitty plushie from his hands and smacked him before giggling

Asmo:

"Ahaha...riiight. That's not the first time someone's tried that on me! And triplets!? "

He loved you but that was a weird joke to pull so many months later

Seriously, triplets? You had to be joking!

You were a little hurt but you kind of understood his reaction

Either way you wanted Asmo to meet them and decided to do a surprise visit

You contacted Dia for help and Barb escorted you safely to the Devildom (it was hard moving around with 3 babies!)

You nervously waited with your babies at Dia's castle while they summoned Asmo first before the other brothers

"Lord Diavolo, I'm he-" you heard Asmo gasp

He froze and took in what was in front of him

"You weren't joking!?"

He sobbed and cried out apologies to you, as he tried to figure out how he could pick them all up (sorry only two at a time!)

You handed him the two girls and watched as they shifted into demon form in his arms

Mini Asmos!

He excitedly talked about all the different outfits you could all wear and match as a family

You took one of the baby girls and handed him the boy and watched as he too shifted

"You're my family! My big beautiful family! Papa will make you all proud! I'll work SO hard!♡"

The other brothers happily joined the gathering a few minutes later

Every time someone picked up one of the babies, they were happy and friendly!

Beel:

"Huh? What? What do you mean? ... I'M COMING."

Mixed emotions: Anger for not telling him. Excited that you had his child. Sad that he wasn't there to support you on the journey. Happy overall for his new family.

He wasted no time after you told him, he called on Lucifer to let him go to the human world. His brothers caught wind and wanted to go too.

Teared up when he saw you standing and holding his baby boy, he gave a big soft family hug

Was surprised and excited when his baby shifted into demon form when he held him

It was a mini him!

He was absolutely in love with his new family

"I will give you both everything. No matter what. I will take care of you two, always.♡"

Wouldn't stop doting on you two

Growled when Belphie wanted a turn to hold his baby...he might've been a little too protective

But everyone did get a turn eventually

His baby bit/nibbled everyone at some point

Belphie:

"Twins!? Mine!? When!? You should've said something!"

Was upset you kept it from him. Scared because what if he fails you and them? But was happy to have his own little family

As soon as he hung up, he quickly called Lucifer for help and had Beel accompany to the human world

Freaked out because what do babies need? What did you need? He hurriedly bought ready made baby gift baskets hoping it would help somewhat

Each step towards your place was nerve wracking and exhilarating

Having Beel there soothed him a little so he was thankful

Belphie thought you looked so beautiful standing there holding his twins in little cow print onesies

He nervously held both and teared up when they shifted and they looked so much like him

The baby boy started crying and he freaked out

"Yeah he cries a lot. The girl however is very quiet and sleeps easily."

Belphie hummed a lullaby and soothed his son who rested happily on him.

"This is better than any dream.I will do my best to make you and them proud.That's a promise.♡"

Beel patted his back letting him know he had him and the others

His babies seemed to like cuddling a lot. They really liked holding fingers tightly.

⬦You might also like: MC Feeling Insecure︱Waffle House︱Coconut

*Super long* Authors Note/Ramblings: Moved those notes to my AO3 journal lol

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me f!mc #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me fluff #obey me humor #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

AITA for telling my friends i love them?

okay, hear me out before writing this off as fake or “trying to make the other party look bad”. i promise this is a genuine problem i need to have figured out.

i (20) am autistic so i have a hard time telling when i do something wrong, and it’s difficult for me to make friends. however, i was part of an online friend group for ~3-4 years. i was the oldest and the others (17-19) all knew each other irl, so it felt a little awkward (to me) for me to be there, but i considered them my closest friends and my only safe space to be myself.

in the time we were friends, i made some mistakes, some of which i’d rather not get into for personal reasons. but recently the group decided they didn’t want me there anymore, so i was kicked from the discord server and they all blocked me. i was sent a long message about why, and that’s where my confusion starts.

in the message, they brought up some things that didn’t make sense to me as a “bad” thing.

1. they said i’d talked to them about drugs and alcohol “while [they] were still minors”, which is true, but misleading when it’s just said like that. what i actually did was infodump about safe use, because it happened to be one of my fixations at the time, and sometimes mention being high in my channel, but nothing more than that. as for them being minors, some were 17 and some were 18, so it’s really not that different to having DARE come and talk to you about drugs, at least in my eyes. i never encouraged them to use, i never told them to use, and i never gave them resources to use. i only talked about safe use.

2. this is where my title comes in. they told me i was guilttripping and manipulating them by talking about them being my “longest friends” and telling them i loved them. point blank, nothing more to it, that’s what they said. along with that was an added “we know that’s not how you meant it but the effect was there”. this is what i don’t understand and why i need to know if i’m actually a bad person for this or not. yes, i’d talk about them being my longest friends, because i was grateful they had stuck around so long. i’d tell them i loved them just off the bat, whenever i wanted to tell them. it was never about guilttripping or manipulating them, it was always about wanting to show that i appreciated them.

3. this one is a hard one i think. they said that i’d “never disproven [my] ex’s accusations”. i don’t really want to get into what happened which my ex since i know i made mistakes in that relationship, but what’s important to note here is that i had sent my ex’s accusations to one member of the group who’d then sent me a text telling me that they believed i was different now.

this is the text copy-pasted:

“it's definitely a rough situation. but since i know *y'all*, i definitely believe your side. not to mention, you acknowledged your mistakes and the things you did. and i think for all the statements they made about "they knew we had [this traumal", they should've had proof of y'all discussing that. like i can say my girlfriend knows i have body image issues, but i could totally be pulling that out of my ass, you can't just take my word for it. they can't just say things without proof, especially if the things they say could *ruin* y'all's life.”

but in the message as to why i was no longer in the group, they said that actually they didn’t believe me at all, which completely contradicts that text.

and yeah, that’s my explanation of the situation. i genuinely don’t know if i’m the asshole or not, and i’ve been beating myself up about it. this whole situation has made my trust in friends go down, especially since i trusted that group with everything about me. any advice is welcome too.

thank you for listening. have a great day. :)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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janeyseymour · 3 months

Note

As per your request! I just copied and pasted it from my comment!!

Also. Love your stories. Love it when you post them. They’re just always so short!! I’m so greedy! I always want more!! I’m always full of ideas so if you need any just ask. (I feel like you don’t need them though you do so well writing!) I’m far to ADHD to actually write any of them so happy for you to create the magic lol

They randomly meet a few weeks/months later in a coffee shop and sit down and chat… or she just happens to Bert her bestie Ava at the school hoping to get a glimpse of her!!

I dunno. You’re the artist! As long as it’s happy and smooshy!! 🥰

Thank you for your sweet, sweet words! As requested, here is part 2! I definitely didn't follow the prompt at all, but this is what I came up with, and I hope it's okay!

Enchanted- pt 2

Part 1

WC: ~2.4k

You went to text Ava the next day after meeting Melissa, but you just couldn’t find the courage. So here you are, still just sitting at your desk job, thinking about her. Your mind is filled with what she could be doing right now- actually you know what she’s doing: it’s 11 am on a Monday morning. She’s at school, probably teaching her second graders. You sit there for another half an hour before it’s finally time for your lunch break, and you take the walk down to the Wawa around the corner like you usually do.

Melissa opens up her Tupperware container, only to let out a loud groan at the odor that comes out of it.

“What the hell is that smell?” Ava scrunches her nose up as she walks in.

“I knew it was a risk bringing this today,” the redhead grumbles as she dumps the contents out into the trash can. “But I thought I could get another day out of it.”

“Damn, girl,” the principal laughs. “That sucks. Wawa lunch for you, I guess.”

“Anyone want anything?” the second grade teacher asks as she slings her bag over her shoulder. Jacob goes to say something, but he’s cut off by Melissa loudly announcing, “Alright, if no one wants anything, I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

She storms her way down to the convenience store- the same convenience store that you’re currently standing in. She sees you as soon as she walks in.

You’re not nearly as dressed up as you were the other night when she saw you, and you look to be in deep concentration as you decide what you want for lunch that day. She chuckles as she watches your furrow your brows deeper than she ever thought possible. She’s absolutely enamored.

“For Christ’s sake, Y/N,” you chastise yourself quietly. “Just pick something.”

She stands behind you and laughs softly. “You know, you can’t go wrong with their quesadillas.”

You nearly jump three feet in the air. You weren’t expecting anybody to come up behind you, and you certainly weren’t ready for the woman that has been occupying your thoughts to be there.

“Oh my…” you take a deep breath as you look at her. She looks… wow. Your cheeks instantly heat up. “Hey, Melissa.”

“Hey, hun,” she chuckles. “You forget lunch today too?”

You don’t really want to admit this, but you aren’t about to lie. “I usually take a walk down here everyday for lunch.”

“Everyday?”

“Like clock work,” you tell her, as you still mull over what to get for lunch. “It’s so bad most of the employees here know me by name.”

As if on cue, one of the workers there looks up and gives you a grin. “Hey, Y/N! The usual today?”

“Usual?” Melissa smirks.

“Aw, yeah!” the employee grins. “Homegirl comes in everyday!”

“Damn, you weren’t kidding’,” the redhead mutters, smirk still written on her face. She hip checks you lightly, effectively making you move over. She hits a few buttons, and then looks at you expectantly. You just stand there, not quite sure what you’re supposed to do.

“Oi,” the woman rolls her eyes. “Put in your order before I order for you.”

“Oh, no,” you stumble out. “I- I couldn’t ask you to pay for my-”

“You didn’t ask, I’m just doin’ it. And I ain’t gonna hear any arguments,” she tells you sternly.

“Melissa, I-”

“Hey, kid!” the teacher calls to the employee that greeted you. “What’s her order?”

He rattles it off as Melissa taps through the different screens, and you give him a look of betrayal. She prints off the ticket, wanders over to the drinks and grabs a raspberry tea before heading for the register.

“Melissa, you really don’t have to,” you try again.

She’s already handing the ticket over to the man behind the counter and pulling her card out of her wallet though.

“At least let me give you cash… or Venmo?”

“Absolutely not,” she rolls her eyes. The two of you stand and wait for them to make your meals, and when she hands in the printed paper and gets your food, she hands it to you with a smile. “Enchanted.”

With a hair toss, she makes her way out. The entire walk back to your office, you grin. She bought you lunch. She said, ‘enchanted’ again. Then, you mentally kick yourself because you didn’t ask her out, you didn’t ask for her number, you didn’t tell her you would get the next meal, you didn’t even reply with that one word that seems to be your thing now.

You eat your usual order from Wawa, and there’s something about it… it just tastes so much better.

As Melissa struts back into the school, she has that confident smile on her face.

“Damn, what happened to you in that Wawa, girl?” Ava laughs as she watches the redhead settle back into her seat and take a bite of her hoagie.

“Oh, nothin’,” the redhead shrugs. “Just saw a friend there.”

The next day, Melissa doesn’t come into school with a container full of her own cooking like she usually does. She doesn’t even enter the staff room when lunchtime rolls around. Instead, she grabs her bag and heads down the street to hopefully run into you again at the Wawa.

You’re standing there again, ordering your meal, although you look a little frustrated today. She doesn’t know that your frustration is because you had been standing there for ten minutes, hoping she would come in. You had just admitted defeat and decided to order when she waltzed in.

“Rough day?” the redhead saunters over and asks you.

Your eyes go wide, and the mental fog is lifted when you hear her voice and smell her perfume. “Hey.”

“Rough day?” she repeats.

You shake your head. “Just a little tired,” you tell her as you move to the side so she can put in her order. “I can’t focus on anything at work.”

She taps away on the screen, ordering hers and then also yours.

You swallow hard. “You remember my order?”

“Course I do,” she shrugs. She hits the button to print the ticket, but as she goes to grab it, you take it first. You make your way over to the drink stations, grab a diet coke, and gesture for her to get her own drink. She grabs a raspberry tea again and then follows you to the register. As you go to hand your card over, a gentle hand slaps your card out of your hand and to the ground. She’s standing there with a smirk as she goes to hand her own card over.

“Aye, Schemmenti,” you playfully growl as you bend over to pick your card up. “It’s my turn to buy.”

“Nah, I got this one,” she chuckles. She also goes to hand her card over, but you smack it out of her hand and throw your card at the employee- a man who is used to seeing you come in and actually checked the two of you out yesterday.

“It’s her turn,” the man shrugs with a cheeky smile as he takes your card, although he does slightly cower at Melissa’s glare. Then the redhead turns to you and immediately turns softer.

“Thank you,” she places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “But I got next one.”

“Alright, alright,” you laugh as the two of you head over to the counter to wait for your meals.

“So, you forgot your lunch again?” you ask her.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “Had it out on the counter and left it.” It’s a complete and total lie. She knew she had to test fate to see you again.

The two of you chat while they get your order together, and once again, she’s bidding you a goodbye with a gentle, ‘enchanted’. This time, you get to say it back, and your smiles and blushes are quite similar to each other.

This continues for the next few weeks, until one day she doesn’t show up at the Wawa like she usually does. Your day sucks. And you’re supposed to meet with Ava after the school day to go get your nails done. You know she’s going to be onto you when you show up in a bad mood.

“Damn girl,” she rolls her eyes and raises a brow. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Nothin’,” you roll your eyes back. “Let’s just get our nails done and gossip.”

“You know I’m always down for that shit,” she laughs.

The two of you talk for a while as the ladies do your nails before it the conversation turns to your love life.

“Well, who is it this week?” your best friend asks you.

“No one,” you sigh.

“Well no wonder you’re in a bitch mood- you need to get some!”

“Girl, you make me sound like I’m with someone new every weekend, and you know for a fact that I am very much not like that,” you roll your eyes.

“You have to have your eye on someone,” the principal says. “Otherwise you would be out at the bar looking for someone!”

You mull over telling her, and before you know it, the words are spilling out of your mouth, “Well, I do have my eye on one person, but it’ll never happen, so…”

“Ooh, girl! You got tea! Spill it!”

“It’s really not a big deal,” you tell her, hoping she doesn’t pry. Of course she does, it’s Ava, so you have to go about describing Melissa without Ava being able to catch on.

“She’s a little older than us, she’s tough on the outside but has a soft spot for me,” you tell her. “Easy on the eyes, smart as a whip.”

“Girl, why didn’t you tell me you were practically dating someone?! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re describing Schemmenti."

“I’m not,” you roll your eyes. “I really just see M- this woman when we run into each other at Wawa.”

“What’s her name?” the principal wiggles her eyebrows, all too interested in your love life.

“Enough about my love life,” you shut her down. “Anything interesting happen at school today?”

“I had to cover Schemmenti’s classes today,” Ava tells you. “Woman sounded awful today when she was calling out.”

It clicks in your head that that’s why she wasn’t there to meet you at the Wawa like she usually did, and it isn’t like she has your number to let you know she wasn’t going to meet you. You instantly feel a bit of relief that she didn’t just decide not to come- but you feel bad that she isn’t feeling well.

“Oh?” you try to hide how you actually feel about it. “Is she alright?”

“Nasty cough,” your best friend tells you. “But she assured me she’d be back tomorrow… Red never calls out, so I knew she was feeling pretty shitty.”

“That sucks,” you sigh softly. “Hopefully she’s back tomorrow.”

“So you can ‘run into her at Wawa’?” your best friend blind sides you with her casual remark.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say quickly, hoping to cover yourself.

“Oh, please,” she waves the hand that isn’t being painted right now. “I saw the eyes the two of you were giving each other at the fundraiser, and Melissa has been going to Wawa everyday since the one day her lunch went bad. I know she’s going to the same Wawa you go to everyday, and she always comes back in a better mood. I put it together about a week in. And you just confirmed it.”

“I did not.”

“Girl, remember, I’ve known you since we were five. I know when you’re lying. Listen, she’s your type, your hers. I say go for it.”

“Maybe I will… if she’s feeling better and at school tomorrow.”

“If I know Schemmenti, she will be,” Ava rolls her eyes. “She might be half asleep, and an absolute bitch tomorrow, but she’ll be there.”

Melissa looks like hell as she drags herself into the Wawa, but to you she still looks gorgeous as ever. When she spots you, her eyes light up.

“The usual?” she asks you as the two of you head to the ordering stations. Her voice is barely there.

“Mel, you should be home resting,” you tell her pointedly.

“I’m fine,” she grumbles. “Besides, I can’t miss. The kids have important tests coming up, and-” she interrupts herself to cough. It sounds awful.

You lay a gentle hand on her shoulder and rub it soothingly. Once she’s finished coughing, she sighs.

“Soup instead of your usual hoagie?” you ask her, already pressing buttons to order her a chicken noodle soup.

She looks defeated but nods. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You insist on paying, telling her to let herself be taken care of. She begrudgingly listens, mumbling about how she’s a Philly girl and she can handle herself. You roll your eyes, but you assure her that she’s still a tough Philly girl- that it’s okay to lean on someone else. As the two of you are standing there, she coughs a few times. Again, you lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. When she’s finally done coughing, she quite literally leans into your body just slightly.

“Sorry I ditched ya yesterday,” she wheezes out. “I couldn’t drag myself out of bed.”

“No need to apologize,” you assure her. “I’m glad you were home getting some rest.”

“I just kept wishing I had a way to tell you,” she mutters.

“Well, why don’t I just give you my number, so if that happens again… or you want to get something besides Wawa with me, we can text?” you shoot your shot with the woman.

“That sounds… enchanting,” she smiles softly. “When I’m feeling better, I’ll make us dinner? I’m one hell of a cook.”

“I’d be enchanted,” you tell her warmly.

As the two of you separate, you get a text from her. Enchanted.

By the time the end of the work day is over, Ava has texted you too. Bitchhh! I’m assuming you shot your shot. Red came back into the school practically dancing.

Yeah. You’re just starting this chapter of life- that one night was truly enchanting, and it really was the very first page.

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary

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1d1195 · 6 days

Text

Dolcezza Extra I

Read Dolcezza here | ~4.7k words

From me: this is something I’ve never done before: an alternate idea to something I've already written. I will be copying and pasting parts to keep the continuity but I hope you like it. It was pretty fun. The first couple paragraphs are from the original part. I’m sure you can all follow without me telling you all this. Have fun!

Warnings: stalking, scary (?) Also, no clue what kinds of protocols are supposed to be in place for this sort of thing. I don't think it makes a lot of sense logistically or law-wise. But that's not what we're here for, right?! I wanted it to kind of go right in the middle of Part 8, like starts in the beginning-ish part of it and end essentially in the same way.

It was one of those nights where everything was going wrong, and everything was too busy. Antonio was caring for Leo, the baby, and the missus—all sick with something Leo brought home from preschool, so Harry and Niall were left in charge. Normally, the sweet girl found her way down and situate herself at a station doing the takeout orders but given the little... spat (what else could he call it?) she seemed to be avoiding him.

His phone began vibrating in his pocket without pause for three full minutes, but he literally hadn’t a second to look at it. All he wanted was for the pretty girl to appear. He wanted to apologize profusely for overstepping. He just cared for her so much. Even if she wasn’t comfortable with how he handled things, he wanted to make it better. He cared so deeply for her it hurt to be apart from her without so much as a text message between them over the last two days. He managed to see her exit a car that wasn’t hers parked in her spot. At least her car was getting fixed. But he imagined she had another busy Friday and Saturday. He wished he could have helped more. Wished he didn’t mess up and revealed that he messed it up in a way he couldn’t fix it.

The moment the orders slowed, Harry was planning to race up her steps and beg for forgiveness.

Harry dropped a knife for the third time on the same onion he had been trying to dice for the last five minutes. He growled to himself, snagged it off the floor (nearly slicing his hand from his anger overtaking rational thought to pick it up by the handle), and all but tossed it in the sink.

“Why not just talk to her?” Niall muttered across the way.

“Shut up,” he snapped, bitterness coating his voice. Niall raised his eyebrows at him and shook his head. He turned the other way, turned his attention to the soup he was pouring into bowls. “M’going to,” he mumbled grabbing a clean knife as he started chopping again. “Sorry.”

He nodded. “It’s alright. Just thinking we could really use her help,” Niall smirked.

Harry snorted. “Y’could probably ask her,” he mumbled. “She’d come running t’help m’sure.”

“Yeah, but it defeats your whole she’s spreading herself too thin. And then I’m no different than rest, huh?”

Harry sighed, grateful for his understanding. “You’re a really good friend, Niall.”

“Don’t I know it,” he laughed. It was infectious. Hard to keep Harry in a bad mood and he prayed to God the orders slowed soon so he could run up and beg her to come help Niall and him because as much as he didn’t want to ask her for another thing, working with her on busy nights were some of his favorite moments.

Harry’s phone was still vibrating. He wondered if he set a timer for something and it was just going off continuously. “M’phone’s been ringing nonstop.”

“Mum?” Niall asked.

“No... she knows m’at work. Plus, she’d call the restaurant if it was an emergency. I gave her the number.”

“S’probably an alarm, yeah?”

“Yeah... probably.”

“Oh, she’s here,” Niall mumbled his gaze narrowing at the slip of paper in his hand. “Eggplant and two times the extra garlic bread…” Niall waved the ticket out like he always did when they realized the arrival of Harry’s Principessa.

Well, at least Harry wouldn’t have to sprint upstairs to apologize. Still, it was odd she didn’t make herself known when she got there even if they weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Harry glanced toward the window for a peek to see if she was there, but he was too far away. “Niall did you see her?” He asked.

“No…” his voice was low, over the bustle of the few staff that were in the kitchen, Harry hardly heard him. Like he was piecing a puzzle together. He was studying the slip. Like it would give him the hint.

“See who?” The hostess asked. She was grabbing a take-out order off the counter that Niall had just finished packaging. Niall slid the ticket into the holder still examining it.

“Principessa,” Niall mumbled. “She always orders extra garlic bread with her eggplant.”

“Oh yeah she’s here with her brother or something,” Antonio’s nephew, Matteo, jumped right into the conversation as he brought back empty plates from the dining room.

Harry’s head snapped up from the veggies he was cutting and tossing into a pot to make a sauce. “Brother...?” Harry didn’t think that made sense at all. He remembered seeing “James groceries” on her calendar while he cleaned earlier in the week. It was always done on a day when James had to work in the evening so there was no way he would have come all the way out here for dinner. Still, he thought Harry would have known if James was here—between his protective brother streak or even just saying hello and thank you for the food. Harry thought she would bring him right back here to the kitchen and make herself at home.

But maybe Harry misread it. Or maybe James finally suspected she was tired and strung out and was taking a step to help with his kind older sister.

“Well, it’s not dinner with you; so, who else would it be?” Matteo reminded them with a shrug.

Niall gasped dropping the plate he was holding, and it shattered to the ground. Everyone stopped to look at him and he grabbed the ticket once more. Like it finally revealed the missing clue. At the same time Harry dropped the fourth knife he was using because if Matteo hadn’t said “who else would it be” they might not have put it together right then.

Harry hurried to the window and searched. “Where’s she sitting?” His voice was hurried. There was a one second pause. “Matteo, now!”

“Corner, near the door. What’s—”

“Niall...” Harry’s body felt weak and shaky. His blood was hot and boiling immediately. His vision was getting blurry at the edges, and he had never felt so close to throwing up in his whole life. Not even when he had the flu in university.

Why was his phone vibrating still?

“Oh no,” he murmured reaching for the phone in his pocket.

“Shit!” Niall hissed looking at the direction of the man sitting across from the pretty girl all the way across the restaurant.

Harry slid his thumb across his phone without taking his eyes off the table across the main room. The weakness he felt ached through every inch in his body. “Eleanor, I—”

He yanked the phone away from his ear as she responded, loudly, shouting. “Harry! For the love of GOD! Do you never look at your phone!? Why do you even have one!?”

Harry felt sicker at the accusation. How could he not look at his phone? “El—”

“Harry it’s bad,” Eleanor sobbed, barely getting the words out. Harry could hear Louis shushing her as best he could. “It’s really bad.”

It was every one of Harry’s worst nightmares.

She was trying to process why the door was open. She quietly stepped back from her own door, but she wasn’t in control of her own body. Her heart was beating a little faster than normal. Her brain tried to reason with her muscles that there had to be a reasonable explanation. Instead, her muscles continued moving; she pressed the volume button on her phone to turn Eleanor’s voice down even though she continued rambling about how Harry adored her, and she was pretty sure he was in love with her too.

Not even the idea of Harry loving her could shake the nerves away.

“El... Eleanor,” she whispered listening intently to Antonio’s office door distinctly closing and three foreboding footsteps reaching her door. The clinking metallic sound of someone fiddling with the lock on her door came next. She had the phone pressed to her lips trying to soundlessly alert Eleanor as best she could as she scurried backwards as if the door was on fire. “El! STOP!” She hissed listening for more sound.

“What?” She could hear the eye roll in her friend’s voice. “You have to confront these emotions Harry is—” There was a low voice cursing outside her door as the lock was fiddled with more and she stepped back as the door opened. Her jaw dropped along with her phone smacking to the ground. She could faintly hear Eleanor calling at the sound of the noise.

The man before her smiled excitedly, relieved. “You’re home. I knew I’d find you,” he sighed with relief reaching for her. Instinctively she took a step back, it took every ounce of her self-control to keep from throwing up all over herself or the not-so-stranger. “I’m so glad I’ve found you; I missed you so much.”

Her heart was pounding erratically. Her only saving grace was knowing Eleanor heard. She reached for her phone. Autopilot. Grab the phone that clattered to the floor.

He kicked it out of the way. “You don’t need that,” he assured her with an easy smile. She straightened; cleared her throat.

“I…don’t?” She whispered. She should have spoken louder so Eleanor could hear. Of course, she loved her apartment, and she loved Antonio and the little family he invited her to be part of that was Dolcezza. Right then, however, she wanted to cry that her apartment was soundproofed beyond auditorial recognition. Her eyes dropped to the fabric in his hand. She swallowed the bile that continued rising in her throat while he looked at her as if he had known her his whole life.

“No,” he shook his head.

Her mind wasn’t working. She was exhausted and terrified and poor Eleanor was screaming from the other end of the line. He grabbed the phone. “Hi Eleanor,” he said simply. “She’s okay. We’re going on a trip, she’ll be safe with me,” he assured her.

Then he left her phone on the side table. Hanging up and leaving it there. It started to vibrate immediately; Eleanor desperate to hear her answer again. Instead, he ignored it, held his hand out for her to take. “I need my stuff—” she stepped toward her bedroom, but he grabbed her arm. She yanked it away, like he burned her. She gasped at the touch, and he frowned.

“Sorry—”

Her fight or flight kicked in and she bolted for the bathroom. It would lock and she would drop from the second story if necessary or scream until Harry heard her.

Oh. Harry.

Right as she tried to slam the door shut behind her his foot got in the way. She yelped as he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the room. “Honey, stop fighting me,” he grumbled bitterly. She felt so sick. So scared. She wanted to scream and cry but it would be useless. No one would hear her. She needed to make someone hear her.

Slowly, painfully slowly, her brain started to work. It wasn’t much. But she prayed silently to herself that it would be. She took a shaky inhaled breath. “I’m…sorry,” her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t look at him. She was too scared. It was a nightmare, but she could feel the way her teeth bit into her cheek. It wasn’t something she would be waking up from. “I’ve had a really long week and a really long day. I haven’t eaten yet,” she whispered. “I was going to go downstairs and eat at the restaurant,” she sniffled. “Can we do that? A date?” It tasted sour in her mouth to say it. Her fingernails dug into her palms reminding her further it was a nightmare. It had to work. Please let it work.

“A date?” He mused. He stuffed the fabric in his hands into the pocket of his pants.

“Please,” she whispered. “I’m starving.”

“And then we can go to my place?”

The idea was so nauseating, so terrifying, she worried that it wouldn’t work. If the food got to her table, she was so incredibly scared she wouldn’t be able to eat it. Her whole body felt shaky and clammy. Like when she had the flu. One bite and she would be puking all over her table.

But hopefully that would get Harry’s attention.

“Okay,” he agreed and held his hand out for her to take. It felt like cheating on Harry to hold someone else’s hand. She forced the tears behind her eyes and willed the nausea to stay in the pit of her stomach.

She placed her hand in his.

Harry was pacing trying to figure out how to tell her he knew. Niall was on the phone with the police begging for no sirens and no lights. Eleanor was, in the smallest of possible ways, relieved to hear she was in the restaurant and not halfway to somewhere they didn’t know.

Harry couldn’t see her face. It killed him. Why didn’t he go up sooner? Why didn’t he beg for her to come down and help so they could make up? Why didn’t he insist and help her stubborn self the way he wanted to?!

“Goddamnit!” He shouted and shoved a bin of clean cutlery on the floor. It was so loud the restaurant ceased to make noise for a prolonged moment.

“Harry,” Niall was off the phone with the police Eleanor sobbing in his other ear no doubt. “You need to be smart. They cannot leave before the police get here or we’re fucked. Eleanor already sent the detective on her case to his old place of residence and there is no sign of him there. So, if they leave…” he trailed off and Harry released a strangled noise from his throat. Not quite a cry, not quite a yell. The pain was so intense from the thought he thought he could feel it in the atoms of his body. “If you cannot have a controlled response...,” Niall warned without finishing the sentence.

Harry swallowed the feeling of being sick down. He knew what Niall meant. “Okay,” he croaked.

Everyone was still trying to work. But the whispers ensued. Within moments, everyone knew. Everyone was trying to piece together a plan and Harry felt so confused, so lost, so scared because the only one he could ever imagine getting out of this situation was his sweet Principessa herself.

“Alright,” he cleared his throat. He needed to be brave. She needed him. She never needed anyone. The weight of that made him terrified. Shaking his head he pressed the heels of his palms in his eyes to stop the stressed tears from escaping. He swallowed and shook his head again. She did the hard part. She got herself in the restaurant and Harry’s attention without even talking to him. “Niall, bring out the garlic bread in three minutes,” he ordered while untying his apron and heading for the door to the alleyway. “Tell Eleanor to tell the detective to hurry.”

The restaurant was easily one of her top five favorite places in the world. But right now, she wanted to scream and run from it. Where was Harry or Niall?! God, she wanted to kill Matteo. How did he not know? Wasn’t everyone under a silent direction to tell Harry when she arrived?

The worry began to take over. Harry wasn’t coming to her rescue because he didn’t want to. She pushed him away and he was going to let—

No.

Harry, despite how mad he might have been, would never let anything happen to her. She was certain.

Wasn’t she?

Perhaps Harry really just didn’t know. It was unfortunate, but there was nothing she could do about it. Especially without any indication that anyone knew she was there. Her back was to the restaurant, and she was still in her gym clothes. With her back turned, hair in a ponytail, she was probably less recognizable than normal. That had to be it. He had no idea she was there.

It was a miracle she could keep her breathing as even as she did. The thoughts started to spiral further. Maybe he wouldn’t know. It was really busy in the restaurant—Matteo might not have noticed she was there with a stranger when he seated them since the hostess wasn’t there. Maybe he didn’t tell Harry yet.

Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears it was hard to hold a conversation with him almost because she couldn’t hear him; more so than the fact that she didn’t want to talk to him. But she didn’t have a choice. He asked her about work, her family, and if she had been reading anything good. She wasn’t into it—it was obvious and she wished she was because the only thing that was going to save her was being able to play it off that she didn’t want to crawl out of her skin at the sight or sound of him. Her stomach was churning, and her voice was so quiet she wished she could do a better job acting but she was terrified. Pain started behind her eyes, and she wanted to scream.

“Good evening.”

Her head snapped up to Harry briefly, who seemingly appeared out of thin air. Her jaw dropped silently. She was really beginning to believe that he wasn’t coming to her rescue. But now he was there. He knew she was there. He was going to help. She was sure of it.

He knew she was there.

Her heart started to pound in a new way, still scared but for the first time in twenty minutes she took a deep cleansing breath; relieved. She looked at her lap afraid to give it away that she knew him. “We are very short staffed this evening. We’re extremely sorry for the delay,” Harry sounded so formal, and she couldn’t look at him. If she did, she would cry. “Your food will be out as soon as we can. Please be patient with us. We’re very sorry.”

If she looked up, she knew his eyes would be looking at her. She knew his apologies weren’t about the food. The gravity in his voice said he was sorry because he didn’t know she was there sooner. He was sorry he didn’t come upstairs or to her rescue faster. A tear slipped across her cheek. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Do you have a bathroom?” She asked.

“I don’t think—”

“Of course,” Harry interrupted hurriedly; she could practically hear the excitement in his voice. Like he was grateful she had a plan because he was a little stuck, a little lost. It made her feel weak immediately. The worry Harry must have felt because of her made her feel guilty and sad. She wanted to fix it and it was hard she felt like she was balancing on a tightrope. She hoped Harry wouldn’t hate her for running the second she had the opportunity. “I’ll lead you,” he offered.

“You just used the bathroom upstairs, honey,” the man reminded her. His voice was tight.

He was going to be mad if she left; that much was evident. “Well, I just—” She started.

“She’s all set, actually. Thank you.”

Harry stared at him. Weighing his options. She could see it. She cleared her throat. “Um...it’s okay,” she whispered quietly. Refusing to look at Harry again. If she did, she was going to blow what little cover she had. Poor Harry. “M’just a little tired,” she assured him, trying to sound braver than she felt.

“S’back and to the left,” Harry murmured and then headed to the next table and explained the short-staffed shift again. She wondered what he was thinking and what he was saying to the table. They looked like regulars, but she wasn’t completely sure because her mind was frazzled. Harry leaving her to fend for herself, even though he was only four feet away at most had her aching for him more than she ever wanted to hold his hand in her whole life.

Harry was losing his mind. He knew she understood his apology for taking so long. He knew that she understood between the lines that he was apologizing for Matteo’s mistake in not telling him sooner. Harry would have been out in the dining room so much faster. As much as it pained him to see her seated across from another man, regardless of the circumstances. It would have been better if she was with another guy in general. At least he wouldn’t be worried sick about her safety.

It took every bit of his strength to keep blowing their cover. To keep from shaking while he told the next table that they were short-staffed. They quietly inquired about the strange man sitting with the sweet girl they all had grown to know as their sometimes-waitress and Harry’s lovely Principessa. He quietly murmured something and then casually bumped into the table dropping the knife near the edge to the floor. As he bent to grab it, he murmured to the guy, pleaded with his eyes as he tried to whisper devoid of emotion. “Do not let her leave with him.”

Harry moved to the next table—strategically he chose the tables that allowed him to keep her in his peripheral. It was killing him. The shaking was becoming uncontrollable, and the whisper beg to the couples, imploring for help from the people he had gotten to know over the years, was getting strangled in his throat as he moved to the third and fourth table.

He was at a loss. The bathroom was a great idea, but he hadn’t a clue as to how to get her from point A to point B. Maybe he could pour hot soup on her, insist she come to the kitchen for help. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to spill their hot soup in her lap either. He supposed he could throw ice cubes in it and make it less horrible on her delicate skin, but he had to do something! His mind was spiraling. He wouldn’t see her in his peripheral in just two more tables and he was already about triple the distance of what he wanted to be from her—granted even an inch of space given the scenario seemed more horrific than he could bear.

He was feeling nauseous. Maybe he should just grab her by the hand and pull her away. But they had a chance to get rid of him. To keep him away from her once and for all. He violated the restraining order. That had to be something. He would have to go away.

Despite the fact she was so close but felt like an entire galaxy away. Harry was crumbling internally. This poor older woman who had been coming in every Saturday for years looked at him with pity in his eyes as he repeated his spiel once more. The agony he felt was in every inch of his bones, every pore of his skin. His eye was twitching.

When he got her safe and out of harm’s way, he planned on never letting go of her. At least not for a few days. He was going to kiss her and hold her. Apologize to her and cook for her. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Harry was going to tell her he loved her and didn’t care if she was stubborn or felt like she was hard to care for because she didn’t like to be needy. He was needy. He needed her. It was killing him to be so close and so far away. So helpless and terrified that he couldn’t help her the way he wanted to right then. Even scared shitless, he thought she was beautiful and brave. So brave. She got here. She got his attention. That had to mean something. She believed in Harry and that he would find her or know she was there despite the frustration and anxiety she felt.

It was hard to believe it was only three minutes since he actually talked to her and apologized for taking so long. Niall came from the back with a plate of garlic bread as promised. Niall was going to come up with the next part of the plan, Harry hoped. Hell, he would go back to the table, feigning exhaustion for apologizing twice. God, he needed to get a bowl of soup, he was going to have to spill it in her lap! It was the only way.

Harry listened intently as Niall arrived at their table. He could almost see the glitter of her tears in her eyes. Nearly crying again at the sight of Niall. He wanted to make a joke more than anything that it had nothing to do with Niall but everything to do with her favorite bread in his hands. But he was mortified. Speechless in front of a table waiting with waited breath as they heard the murmurs and the wisps of what Harry managed to mumble before Niall’s arrival.

“Garlic bread,” he announced, as if she didn’t know. “Buon appetite,” he winked casually. He was far better at lying and acting than Harry or herself combined. She was itching to run. Niall and Harry, both could stop him. Someone would tackle him, right? She was fluttery. Ready to leave as soon as she saw an opening because she didn’t know what else to do. “Can I get you two anything else?” Niall asked kindly.

“I know you,” he said. It lacked suspicion but was no less terrifying.

She could see Harry’s back straightened in her peripheral and his speech silenced. Matteo and the hostess were working from the other end of the room at the same time. Probably explaining the situation to every table as quietly as they could just like Harry was.

Without any tell in sight, Niall merely tilted his head and looked at him. “Hmm...sorry. M’not sure I recognize you,” he shrugged. Niall stepped closer, getting a better look at the man across from her. His acting skills deserved an award.

But in moving closer, Niall also blocked her a good margin from his view. It was her chance. She bolted. Running from the main room and toward the kitchen so fast it took a minute for anyone to realize she was gone. She zipped out the kitchen door, back through the alley, and up to her apartment. She heard a shout coming quickly behind her, so she had to be faster. She hurried back into her apartment unable to do anything but grab her phone off the table and run into the bedroom and hide in the closet, closing the door quietly behind her. She dialed Eleanor. Her heart pounding as she heard the sound of steps. She left the door open to make it look like she ran back out, but it was impossible.

He was already in the apartment. Already tearing through her belongings, shouting, upending her furniture, and rifling through everything.

“Babe?” Eleanor nearly screeched with relief.

“I can’t talk,” she whispered barely an audible octave.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay on the phone,” she promised. “The police are on their way.”

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz

@likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59

@babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06

@canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong

@foreverxholland @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03

@luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr

@crossyourpeter @kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @harryscherri

@indierockgirrl @michellekstyles @hermionelove @somethingabout1d19

Dolcezza: @matildasatellite @lovingfurypanda @sideboobrry11 @theresnooneheretosave @12yeahiminluvwu

@cohnfusedarling

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if I put you on the wrong list, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

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