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#not in a way that i can just go to sleep .though
changbinlov3r · 1 day
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We can't be friends | H.H.
Pairing: Hyunjin x reader
Genre: ANGST, smut
Summary: you have been in love with your best friend for a long time. On a night where you were supposed to comfort him after a break up, things heat up and he finally looks at you the way you wanted.
Words count: 2,957
THIS WORK IS FOR +18 AUDIENCES ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Warnings: biting, protected piv, hickeys, blowjob, hair pulling, cursing(I think that's all)
A/N: I wanted to write something to "we can't be friends" by ariana grande, I was thinking so hard about what to write and this idea came to me so suddenly and I knew I had to write it.
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Hwang Hyunjin was everything you ever dreamt about. You didn’t realize that right when you met him in your first year of college, to you he was just a friend until he wasn’t anymore. You started noticing every little thing about him, how his eyes turn into crescents when he smiles, the face he makes when he eats something good, what are his favorite drinks and snacks. Suddenly everything about Hyunjin sounded so interesting that you didn’t even realize you were in love. You didn’t realize how happy you got every time he sent you a message, how touched you felt when he went to pick you up at work because it was raining and you forgot your umbrella, how calm you felt when you were with him, watching a movie and chilling.
The moment you realized you were in love, you knew you couldn’t be best friends anymore but you liked to pretend. Hyunjin never even looked at you twice so your mind never went to dark places, wondering what it would be like to tell him how you feel but even though that was the case, he didn't make it easy for you to stop liking him.
He would bring you snacks and medicine when you were on your period, when you felt down about anything he would be there to cheer you up and you could tell him just about anything, you knew he wouldn’t judge you — well, almost anything. Could he ever understand you about this, though? How could you fall in love with your best friend?
When he got his first girlfriend it was a shock to you, the pain in your chest felt like it would burn you whole, but you kept fighting with your heart, telling yourself that it wouldn’t do you any good for him to know about your feelings. His relationship didn’t last long but it also wasn’t the last you heard about a relationship of his and you thought you were okay with it. That is, until he met his last girlfriend. Hyunjin was head over heels for her and that killed you time and time again. Your heart broke more and more every time he talked about her, every time you slept over and heard him calling her late at night, telling her how much he loved her. A month went by, then three months, then a year.
Of course you didn’t want them to break up because you knew he would suffer and that was the last thing you wanted, even if in that case you would be the one hurting. You tried to date other people, but you always felt it was wrong because deep inside you didn’t want to get over him, not when you were still hopeful that one day he would look at you.
It was late at night when Hyunjin called you, it was clear in his voice that something was not right.
“Can you come over?” He asks, voice hoarse and tired.
“Give me ten minutes”, you tell him, jumping out of bed. You were already in your pjs, ready to sleep and no one other than Hyunjin could make you go out this time of the night.
You don't even change your shirt, putting on sweatpants and brushing your hair quickly before grabbing your keys and your coat, walking to the door. The chill air of the night blows your hair, messing everything up and making your face grow cold. Winter has been killing you for a while now, you have been avoiding coming to the cold outside since you started to work from home.
You get into your car, turning on the heater, putting on some light music so you can stay calm and not freak out about what happened to your best friend.
You don’t even knock when you get to his apartment, pressing the password to the door lock and entering the house. A strong smell of liquor comes straight to your nose, stopping you in your tracks. There are so many soju bottles on the floor that you can’t even count and you hear the sound of the shower, so you can only conclude that Hyunjin is taking a bath.
Sighing and taking your coat, you throw it on the table, going to the kitchen to find a plastic bag and starting to collect the trash around the living room. What the hell happened? Hyunjin is usually pretty neat, it’s rare to see his house this messy.
You hear the sound coming from the bathroom disappear while you wash the dishes, drying your hands on a towel and leaning against the kitchen counter, waiting for Hyunjin to show up.
He looks awful, clean but horrible. He has eye bags under his eyes and seems tired like he hasn't slept in days.
“What happened?” You ask him, walking to him to take a closer look.
Hyunjin pouts, looking at you. You swear he’s almost crying.
“Jisoo broke up with me”, he says, running his hand through his hair.
“She did what?” You scowl, eyes widening and he sighs. “What happened? This came out of nowhere”
“I don’t know, she’s been acting weird lately and she didn’t want me to pick her up at work anymore so I asked about it and she felt offended that I was being suspicious of her, but I was not”, he whines, “I was just asking if there was something wrong”
“When did it happen? Are you drunk right now?” You recall the amount of empty bottles of alcohol you found when you arrived.
“She ended it yesterday, I thought she was gonna come around”, he cries out, “but she even blocked me on social media”
Hyunjin turns around, walking to the sofa and sitting, supporting his elbows on his thighs while he covers his face.
“I'm not drunk, I ran out of booze a few hours ago and just couldn't get myself to go buy more”, he sighs, “I have no energy”
You feel that pain in your chest, you never wanted to see him suffering like this.
“Look, you have today to cry and tomorrow you're gonna forget about her, okay?”, you groan, the last thing you want is to comfort the guy you like because someone else broke his heart. “You have me, you’re gonna be fine” You walk to him, sitting by his side and patting his back. Hyunjin sighs, nodding begrudgingly.
“Thank you for coming”, he says, leaning down and putting his head on your shoulder. “I know it's late”
“Don’t worry about it”, you assure him, “I'm always here for you”
Hyunjin nods, looking up at you before you glance down at him, his dark eyes watching you like he can see right through you, all your emotions. Suddenly the atmosphere becomes strange, you both fall into silence and you feel something deep inside you, something you don't think you have ever felt before as he glances to your mouth and then your lips are on his.
For a few seconds you can't fully understand what's happening, are you two really kissing? And is he reciprocating? Hyunjin’s lips are just like you thought it would be, soft and sweet. Are you a horrible person for doing this when he just broke up with his girlfriend? His hands move to cup your face, deepening the kiss but yours go straight to his chest, pushing him away.
“We shouldn't do this”, you shake your head, trying to get back to your senses. “This isn't right”
Hyunjin scowls.
“It's fine, I want it”, he tries kissing you again but you stop him again.
“You were drinking earlier, you are not thinking straight”, you try keeping your cool.
“I'm sober now”, he insists, “please, y/n”, he pleads, making your heart melt.
It's not like you don't want to have him, you really do.
“You won't regret it later?” You ask, biting on your bottom lip and when he shakes his head, you turn off the side of your brain that makes good decisions, kissing him again.
You grab his face, deepening the kiss, delighting yourself on his plump lips. His long hair falls around your fingers, tickling your skin and the brush of his tongue on yours makes you sigh. Hyunjin bites on your bottom lip, pulling it lightly while his hands slide down to your hips, pressing his fingers with such force you think it might cause a bruise.
He kisses you again, hungrily, leaning over and making you fall back on the sofa as he hovers over your body. You feel tiny beneath him, like he holds all the power in the world and you’re just there ready to make all his wishes come true.
As he trails kisses down your neck, you sigh and slide your hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off of him and throwing it somewhere in the room. You kiss him again, eagerly, not capable of staying away for too long as his hands slide down your shirt grabbing at your breasts, making you let out a moan. Your hands go down his abs, sliding inside his pants, pressing your fingers around his hard cock. You start massaging it up and down and Hyunjin bites on your bottom lip, pulling it slightly just enough for you to feel a slight pain.
He slips his hand down your bra, kneading at your breasts and pinching on your nipples.
“Fuck”, you murmur, not able to hold up anymore as you pull your on shirt off to give him the view of your chest that's bare in a few seconds since you work fast to undo your bra.
He watches you for a moment, mesmerized by your beauty. You feel your cheeks grow hot, trying to cover yourself but he blocks your movements, holding your arms above your head. Hyunjin kisses your neck, leaving a trail of bites that are going to cause you to use turtlenecks for a while but you are not complaining, he trails down your collarbone till your breasts so he can suck on your nipples, rubbing his hard cock against your tight while he enjoys his time at your chest.
You can't hold yourself back anymore, so you put your hands on his chest, pushing him away enough for him to sit down. You throw one leg over him, sitting on his lap, brushing your core against his hard cock, moaning to the delicious pressure. You kiss him again, rubbing yourself against him a few times, his hands go straight to your hip forcing you down.
You pull away when you can't breathe anymore, trailing kisses down his jaw and neck, giving him a bite right on top of his collarbone, not stopping until he hisses.
“You're going to leave a mark”, he groans, opening his eyes that were shut in pleasure, just to look at you, seeing the smirk you have on your lips.
“That's the point”, you say, finally detaching your lips from his skin, enjoying the view of it turning purple.
You get down from his lap, getting on your knees in between his legs, pulling his pants and underwear down to find his painfully hard cock, glistening with precum. You grab the base of his cock, pumping it a few times before you get close enough to lick the head, circling it with your tongue, listening to him moan while he grabs the sofa, knuckles turning with the strength he's using.
You hold one of his hands with yours bringing it to your head and letting it rest on your hair, as you look at him sharply, sucking up and down on his cock even more eagerly.
“Fuck”, he grabs a handful of your hair, pressing your head further down his cock, the head reaching the back of your throat, making tears escape your eyes. “You look so pretty gagging around me”, he murmurs, throwing his head back, groaning to the intense feeling of the orgasm approaching.
You feel his grip tighten on your hair and he cums a few seconds later, letting go of your hair and breathing heavily, trying to recompose himself. You stare at him from the floor, not sure if he's going to want to keep going, but he soon looks back at you stretching himself to the side of the sofa till he reaches the drawer in the rack, pulling a condom out of there.
“Do you want to-”, he begins to say.
“Yes”, you nod frantically not even letting him finish.
“Good”, he smiles, tearing the package and putting on the condom, his cock hardening again. “It's pretty difficult not to get hard again seeing you fucked out like that for me”, he teases. Your hair is disheveled, your lips are swollen and there are tears marks down your cheeks.
You smile sheepishly watching as Hyunjin offers you his hand, pulling you down to sit back on his lap. You grab his cock, teasing your entrance lightly, closing your eyes to the feeling. When you sink down you swear you can see stars, his cock is just perfect, the stretch feels so good you can't even begin to describe it. He's reaching places you didn't even know you wanted to be reached, the way he grabs your hips, pushing you down on him while he makes you grind makes the sensation a thousand times better. You can already barely breath when he kisses you again, bringing a hand to your hair and pulling it while he bites on your lips, you can feel him thrusting into you, faltering movements showing that he's almost reaching his second orgasm. He trails kisses down your neck, kissing the hill between your breasts and licking on your right nipple while he curses under his breath.
“I'm gonna cum”, he announces, detaching his mouth from your chest, glancing at you just to see you nod, murmuring ‘me too, I'm almost there’ over and over until a loud moan escapes your lips. Your legs tremble and you hug Hyunjin looking for some kind of support, he wraps his arms around you, fucking into you while he cums too.
You don't have any strength left to get up when you come down from your high, resting your head on his shoulder. Hyunjin gently picks you up, holding your legs around his hips while he carries you to his room, laying you down on his bed. He murmurs something but you're too groggy to understand him, falling into a deep slumber as soon as you feel his lips meeting your forehead.
It's already afternoon when you wake up, there's no one by your side though and you feel the pain of regret beginning to find its way to your chest. You could ignore it, you really could, if it wasn't for Hyunjin’s voice coming from outside the room. You dress up fast, walking to the door to hear what he's talking about and then you realize he's not alone.
“Do you have any idea of how much you hurt me?” You hear his voice.
“I'm sorry”, you hear Jisoo’s voice, “I know I went overboard this time but I wasn't thinking clearly”
You feel your stomach sinking in, your heart starts beating on your ears but you make a huge effort to keep listening to them.
“What do you want me to do about it now?” He asks, sighing.
“Let's get back together”, she suggests, “we can pretend we never even broke up in the first place”
You want to believe with all you have in you that he's gonna deny her, that he's going to think about you and tell her he's not interested anymore.
“Fine”, he says, “but I'll need some time to think”
You wish you could say you're surprised with his answer but you're not, it's not even sad, it's just pathetic. You really thought that he would really look at you this time, didn't you? That he would fall in love with you after one night together? That's embarrassing to say the least.
You scoff to yourself, walking around the room and collecting your things, you want to get the hell out of there and disappear from this world.
You hear the front door being closed and you know Hyunjin is gonna show up at any time now.
You're already ready to go when he opens the door, stopping on his tracks to look at you.
“I didn't know you were awake”, he says, sheepishly.
“I am”, you say walking past him in the direction of the front door.
“Y/N, about yesterday-”, he starts saying but is interrupted by you spinning around to look at him, trying to contain the tears that are threatening to escape your eyes.
“You're a fucking asshole”, you tell him, making him scowl.
“I- look, you don't understand”, he tries but you laugh, scoffing at him.
“What don't I understand? That you fucked me one night and went back to your girlfriend the next morning?”
“I wasn't on my right mind yesterday”
“Fuck you”, you feel your face hot with anger, “you said you wouldn't regret it”, you cry out as you run your hands through your hair, “I guess that's on me for really believing you”
“Let's not let this ruin our friendship okay? We can take some time apart to clear our heads but we are still best friends, y/n”
“We can't be friends”, you inform him, “I have known that for a long time now but I liked to pretend”, you sigh, waiting for him to say something, anything that could make you stay, but Hyunjin just stares at you in shock and watches as you leave him.
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atlabeth · 2 days
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true luck's kiss
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of tyche!reader
summary: luke is stuck with a streak of bad luck. what better way to get rid of it than with a child of tyche?
a/n: so this was supposed to come out on st patrick's day but unfortunately im the slowest writer in the world and ive also been doing nothing but watch basketball because we sleep in may. anyways here's a short fluffy blurb because it is getting way too sad in here with my hurricane fics lmao
wc: 1.2k
warning(s): none, this is all fluff. i know crazy coming from me
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You grimaced as you pulled the arrow back. Sweat dripped down your forehead and you itched to brush it away, but you ignored the urge as you let out a deep breath. 
“Just like that.” Kimia nodded as she stopped behind you. “Perfect angle—now let it fly.” 
You did, and the weight lifted off your shoulders once the arrow embedded itself in the center of the target. 
“Ending on a bullseye,” she said with a grin. “Great work.” 
“Only way to do it,” you said, smiling at her. “Am I a worthy opponent yet?” 
She chuckled and patted your shoulder as she moved on. “Maybe one day you’ll be as good as Cabin Seven. Today’s not that day.” 
You shook your head with a laugh and took your quiver off your back. “Keep telling yourself that!”
A bow and arrow had become your weapon of choice since the moment you stepped foot into camp, and you’d gotten good over the years—so much so that it was a surprise when your mother claimed you. One day, though, you would get an Apollo kid to admit you were better than them. 
You’d just finished putting all your equipment away, and when you turned back, you were met with a mess of brown curls and shining eyes.
“Luke,” you said, pleasantly surprised. “Didn’t know you were in archery today.”
He shook his head. “I’m not. I didn’t come here for archery—I came here for you.”
You chuckled as you gestured with your head, and he got the hint as you started walking together. “How forward of you.”
“It’s a living,” he said with a smile. “How was practice?”
“And small talk?” You pressed a hand to your heart and shook your head. “It must be my lucky day.”
Luke’s smile widened as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “That’s what I came to talk to you about, actually. I do wanna hear about your day, though.”
You shrugged. “It was boring. Killed it at archery, nearly got killed on the climbing wall—I was gonna head back to the cabin to chill for a few hours before dinner, but it looks like you’ve taken that slot.” 
He chuckled. “So you are free?” 
“I’ve always got some time to listen to Luke Castellan,” you mused. “What’ve you got?” 
“I’m cursed,” Luke said. 
You stopped in your tracks and looked him right in the eye. “...Cursed.” 
He nodded. “I know it sounds stupid, but it’s gotta be true. I mean, nothing is going right for me. I’ve been off my groove with my sword, I’ve lost every canoe race, I nearly burnt my eyebrows off last time I was in the forge, and my team hasn’t won a game of capture the flag this entire month—” 
“I know,” you interrupted. “I’m in your cabin.” 
“So you know how bad my luck’s been lately!” he exclaimed with a gesture. “It— it was embarrassing, but now it’s just pathetic.” 
“You know I can’t fix it, right?” you said wryly. “I’m not my mom.” 
“That’s what Annabeth said,” Luke mumbled. “But— but I’ve seen the way you live—you’ve got luck on tap! Your strawberries are always the ripest, you somehow find drachmas on the ground, and your volleyball serves are better than anyone’s.”
“I play varsity back home,” you said. “No luck needed.”
“Still,” he emphasized, “you’re naturally lucky. You’ve literally got it in your DNA, and I’m fresh out of it. That’s gotta be worth something.” 
“Not really.” You crossed your arms. “So what do you think I can do about this?” 
Luke shrugged. “I dunno. Say something?" 
You barely managed to stifle a laugh. “Like what?” 
“Pray to Tyche,” he said. “You’re her only kid here—she’s gotta be listening.” 
You bit back your smile as you shook your head. “Fine. Just for you.” 
“Thank you,” Luke sighed, watching with bated breath as you cleared your throat, closed your eyes, and pressed your hands together. 
“Tyche, dearest mother, goddess of luck and fortune—I ask you to shine on Luke Castellan on this day. Smile upon my friend and break his very real curse. If you do this for him, in return, he will do all of my cabin chores for the next month.” 
When you opened your eyes, Luke looked quite unimpressed. “Very funny.” 
“Feel any luckier?” you asked with a smile as you started walking again. 
“I don’t think so,” he said, falling into step with you once more. “Especially because you’re putting conditions in your prayers. I didn’t know we could do that.” 
“My mom has a sense of humor,” you mused. “And I also think I might be her favorite.” 
“Not all of us have that privilege,” he said wryly. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he grabbed your arm to stop you.  
“I think I’ve got it,” Luke said. “How about a kiss?” 
Your eyebrows rose, but you couldn’t help showing your amusement. “Now it’s a kiss that’ll break your curse?” 
He shrugged. “Like I said—you’ve got luck in your DNA. Maybe you could pass that along.”  
“Really,” you said dryly. 
“I’ve kinda tried everything,” he said. “A kiss from a lucky and pretty girl is far from the worst option.” 
You chuckled. “You really know how to flatter ‘em.” 
“I try,” he grinned. “Are you up to it?” 
You bit your lip as you looked at Luke. Obviously, he was attractive—you’d always held an appreciation for his curls and the way they would constantly get in his eyes. He cut an impressive figure from constant, year-round training, and he even made the camp shirt look good. And gods, that damned smile got you. 
There were worse things than kissing you, and there were certainly worse things than kissing Luke Castellan. 
“Alright,” you sighed, taking a step forward. “Pucker up, Castellan.” 
Before you could really doubt yourself, you leaned forward and kissed him. You weren’t really expecting to actually… like it. 
Your first thought was that Luke’s lips were softer than they had any right to be. Your second thought was that his cologne was the scent always floating around the Hermes cabin. You didn’t really mind, though. 
Luke gently put his hand on the back of your head to keep you there, and the moment lasted much longer than you initially planned. You also didn’t mind, though your thoughts were far more muddled than they should’ve been when you finally managed to pull away. He seemed to have a gift for that. 
You felt your cheeks flush as you looked at him, not even trying to hide your smile. Turns out kissing Luke Castellan was actually pretty great. “Feel any luckier?” 
“Yeah,” he said with a soft grin, his eyes twinkling. You wondered if he had the same thought about you. “Yeah. I really do.” 
“I think that means it’s worked, then,” you said. 
Luke nodded with mock austerity. “We should probably stick together for the rest of the week, though. Just to make sure this bad luck goes away for good.” 
“You might be right,” you said. “And uh— you think you need an extra boost?” You glanced away as you bit back your smile. “Just to be safe and all. To really get rid of this curse.” 
“You know,” he drew your attention back to him as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and you leaned in closer. “I think I might.” 
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woso-dreamzzz · 1 day
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Breakfast V
Ellie Carpenter x Daniëlle van de Donk x Child!Reader
Summary: You get hurt
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Ellie didn't know what could constitute picking you up from Lindsey's in the middle of date night but all she knew was one minute she was going to the bathroom and the next Daan was running in saying that they had to leave.
You're in tears when she and Daan get there, sitting on Lindsey's sofa as you sob.
You've got one hell of a black eye. It was practically swelled shut and you were cradling your right wrist, keeping it close to your body as you cry.
"Mamma," You cry, reaching out your good hand for Daan," Het doet pijn (it hurts)."
Ellie has no idea what you're saying but she gets the general gist of it as Daan inspects you.
"What the hell happened?!" She demands.
"She slipped!" Lindsey replies, throwing her arms up as if to defend herself," Down the stairs! It was an accident!"
Ellie wants to scream at Lindsey for not watching you properly but settles on bringing the first aid kit over to Daan so she could wrap your wrist.
It doesn't look too bad, just a little sensitive but Ellie still knows you'll be going straight to the doctor tomorrow morning to get it checked out properly.
She knows you're okay (at least, she knows that it's not worth a hospital visit) but it doesn't stop Ellie from shoulder checking Lindsey on the way out.
Daan sits in the back with you on the way home and you curl into her so easily that Ellie imagines that's what you used to do when you were younger and still living in London.
You're exclusively speaking Dutch as well which is something Ellie barely has a grasp on besides the basics.
Frankly, this is all freaking her out. Not your injuries, Ellie can deal with that but just how distraught and emotional you are. She's never seen you like this before, curled up on Daan's lap like the little kid you actually are.
You wipe your nose on Daan's shirt and she doesn't even blink, gently stroking your back and whispering to you in equally soft Dutch.
"Mijn oog doet pijn en mijn pols (my eye hurts and my wrist)," You say as Daan inspects you again.
Your eye is looking better now that you've gotten home and kept an ice pack pressed against it. The swelling has mostly gone down so you can open and close it again but it's still turning a purplish colour.
Your wrist didn't seem sprained or broken either, just sensitive so hopefully sleeping in the bandage tonight will stave off the worst of it and the trip to the doctors will confirm that.
"Sorry dat ik date night onderbrak (sorry for interrupting date night)."
Mamma just shakes her head, pulling you even closer to her. "Nee, verontschuldig je niet. Het was een ongeluk. Je hoeft je nergens voor te verontschuldigen (no, don't apologise. It was an accident. You have nothing to apologise for)."
You don't quite believe her but Mamma doesn't lie to you so you have to take her word for it.
Her arms around you are warm and safe and you're tucked securely under her chin where nothing bad can happen to you.
"Mamma," You say," Ik denk niet dat ik morgen naar turnen kan gaan (I don't think I can go to gymnastics tomorrow)."
Whatever you say has a little bubble of laughter exit Daan's mouth and Ellie relaxes considerably. She's been completely lost for most of the conversation but Daan doesn't seem too worried with what you're saying so she relaxes.
She stays on the edges though, hovering. She isn't quite sure what she's meant to do.
Sure, she and Daan are getting married and, sure, she's got adoption papers that are being filed after the wedding but she's never been in a situation like this.
Ellie isn't sure if she's overstepping by coming into the little bubble of comfort that you've created with Daan. She's not exactly sure of the procedure for this kind of thing.
You seem to know though.
You catch Ellie standing there from the corner of your eyes and you put a hand over Daan's shoulder to reach for her.
"Mum," You whine," Mum."
Ellie's body moves on auto-pilot, her hand capturing your own as she sits next to Daan, squished up against you both as close as she can get. Her brain doesn't even realise what you've called her.
It all seems so natural, to you and to her.
There's no reason to make a big thing about it. It was always going to happen eventually.
You move from Daan to Ellie, wiggling in her lap for a moment before going almost completely limp, like you were sleeping but Ellie knew you weren't.
You curled into Ellie like how you curled into Daan, completely relaxed and boneless.
"Mag ik bij jou en Mum in bed slapen (can I sleep in bed with you and Mum)?" You ask Mamma.
"I think that can be arranged."
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moondirti · 1 day
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so.. simon and johnny stopping by a seedy 24/7 roadhouse on their way back home post-op
featuring: established ghostsoap. pregnant fem!reader. alluded kidnapping, extremely toxic attitudes. they’re literally delusional. mentioned death. this verges on dark so please beware!
They’ve driven past it about a hundred times, never having given it more than a passing glance. Who would, really? Nothing about it seemed appealing – in all its sun-bleached paint job and flickering neon signage glory – but circumstances lent themselves to its consideration. What was supposed to be a half-day mission ended up taking two, meaning they haven’t had time to sleep let alone eat. On top of that, a delayed exfil made it so they touched down on base at an ungodly hour. By the time Price waived their paperwork and they got into their car, they were famished.
“Could eat the scabby heid aff a dog,” Johnny eventually groans. He’d tried his best to hang in there, mindful not to be a pest during the hours it takes his partner to decompress after a rough operation, but his stomach kills and he knows Simon’s does too. He only receives a grunt for a response, though the man abruptly steers into the leftmost lane, catching the nearest exit towards the place in his periphery. Cleary meant to model an American diner with it’s fading blue exterior and obnoxious banner: The Dahlia
But they’ve been in worse. They hardly take note of the coffee rings staining their table, or the homeless man who’s taken residence in a corner booth (besides the brief once-over in their threat assessment upon entering). No; they just slot themselves by the nearest exit, scan over the menu and decide to order the quickest meal possible.
Only for things to take a sudden turn when their waitress stops by.
Christ alive, Johnny wonders how you manage to glow under the harshest of fluorescents. Dewy skin. Bright eyes, if not a little sunken at the late hour. Still, you smile and do so genuinely as you waddle to their station, clicking a pen before asking: “And what can I do you for, gentlemen?”
Simon doesn’t look at you immediately, not even when you speak up. He’s too fixed on Johnny, replaying the past days’ events in his head. Revisits the hour where their comms malfunctioned, when he lost touch with his boy and had to fight not knowing whether he was holding up okay. He has trust in him, of course, more bleedin’ trust than he has in earth to keep rotating. Still–
You clear your throat.
His pupils shift to pin you under their scrutiny, only he can’t bring it in him to be as severe as he wants to be. Because, while the first thing Johnny notices about you is your beauty, the first thing Simon sees is your bump.
Obscured by your apron, but still there. Round. Full. 6 months along, by the looks of it.
He’s forced to recall Beth, Tommy by extension. An old working knowledge that comes back to haunt him. At 23 weeks, his sister in law’s pregnancy began to weigh on her. Heartburn. Backaches. Hot flashes that resulted in bouts of dizziness. She couldn’t be up for more than 2 hours at a time, and yet here you are.
What the fuck were you doing in a place like this?
“Need more time to decide?” You ask. Patient. Lovely. If Johnny weren’t so sleep-deprived, so in over his head, he would perhaps realise the subtle hints you were dropping. They’ve been staring too long now, unsettling no doubt. Grimy, each with a tell-tale bump on their waistbands that point to their armament. Simon sans hard-shell mask, but still in a balaclava and eyeblack. Both larger than life and practically alone with you in this isolated place.
It’s Simon who speaks up first. “Fish and chips for the both of us. To-go. Cheers.”
You scribble the order down, pausing to consider. “Coffee? Gotta inform you, it’s drip, bottom of the carafe so it might taste burnt too. Hotplate’s all out of sorts.”
“Aye, just the one. Gae head an’ dip yer finger in it too. Might benefit from a little sweetener.” It takes you a second to process Johnny’s flirt. When you do, though, you visibly blanch, ducking your head to hide your face as you pretend to jot what he said down.
“I’ll have that right out for you.”
And then you scurry off, glancing over your shoulder once you think you’re out of sight. Curious. Flustered.
Simon’s attention refocuses on the scotsman once you’re gone, an eyebrow raised under his mask. His partner is able to read the expressed question well enough: what do you think you’re doing? Strict, but not so much angry as it a press for him to think before he speaks, to balance the scales before he asks something of Ghost that he can’t refuse.
“Dinnae look at me like tha’.” Johnny whispers. “Bonnie lass, isn’t she?”
Simon blinks. “Expecting, too.”
“We cannae leave her here.”
Memories occur in rapid succession. Tommy. Beth. The cherubic face they had brought into the world – little Joseph, who was the first he found dead upon returning home.
He considers Johnny, Soap, this force of nature that wormed his way into his life and sunk his teeth into the rot of his heart, fastened before Simon could even think of brushing him off.
“And here’s that coffee! Your meals should be coming out soon, thank you for being patient.”
It’s a bad idea. Horrible. You could have a partner, a cozy home waiting for you. Nursery already painted. Names already chosen.
What good partner would let you work this shitty job?
It’s a bad, horrible idea. No good for anyone. They’re on constant deployment. They risk their lives on every run. You’d be put in harm’s way yourself.
Not if they hide you well enough. Their house is secluded for a reason.
It’s a bad, horrible, no good idea – but Johnny accepts the mug with a gracious smile and you bloom all pretty, hand inadvertently cradling your belly. Little flower, persisting against all odds. Growing from the fissures of broken concrete. Dignified still. Kind. Strong.
So what if they pluck you from your place? They’ve got somewhere much better for you to thrive.
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lovifie · 3 days
Note
Hi this is my first ever request lol, so I uh was wondering if you could write a soap x reader little red riding hood. It could be some cute fluff or I guess even smutty depending on how you'd want to depict it. Sorry if it's a rather blank request, I'm very bland when it comes to writing and such (>_<)
Hi love! Thank you so much for the request, I hope I met your expectations 🩷
It did turn really smutty though, so I hope you don't mind 🩷
Back to Masterlist
W: Werewolf!Soap x Little Red Riding Hood!Reader (inspired at least), smut, defined breeding kink must it's mostly a werewolf thing, biting, mentions of pregnancy (is the breeding kink warm up, you know), knoting.
You were used to being the one taking your grandma her food, making sure she still ate the produce she couldn't acquire in her house deep into the forest.
So every other week, you would do your little journey. It didn't take long, you'll get to her house before lunch time and you chose to stay the day with her before making your way back.
You already knew the path like the back of your hand, always on time and never getting lost.
There is also Johnny, a friendly neighbour who on many occasions chooses to walk along with you. The chat is nice, makes the walk more entertaining even when you go the different route that Johnny showed you; just because it is longer and that way you can talk for longer.
You obviously didn't trust him at first, a grown man in the middle of the forest sounds terrifying on its own. And you need to add to that the fact that Johnny is built like a brick house.
“I could have you for dinner.” He joked once when you asked him what did he ate to be so big. A silly joke.
The fear of the big man following you in the forest, quickly turned into the big man walking with you. And the little fear you had of the wild dissipated the closer he walked with you.
Especially, when during the spring rumours started flying around about a massive wolf living in the forest. Apparently a huge striped dog has been seen walking on the forest line for a couple of weeks now, always looking into the town but never quite entering.
The dog, big enough to be the size of a grown man on his hinged legs, eyes that reflect the light of the fire and teeth to rip the flesh off the bone.
Your grandma moved out of her house, moving inside town to be away from the animal. Still, you couldn't sleep at night knowing Johnny was out there.
With your grandma living in your house, you didn't have an excuse to walk in the forest. But still, on a freezing morning in the middle of spring you found yourself walking inside the forest wishing you could come across Johnny quickly and be back home.
What you come across instead, is a growling behind you. So deep you feel it shaking your bones before you can see it. You only need to see the outline of the monster before you are sprinting for your life, it is a stupid decision and you know it. It immediately triggers the beast to follow you.
The path to your grandma's house has never been so long and you don't even make half way through before you fall, tripping on your own feet. You turn around, looking for the dog which seems to have evaporated into thin air.
A warm hand on your back makes you jump, turning around and coming face to face with Johnny, a pained expression on his face. You jump into his arms, a groan into your ear as he hugs you back, a bit too hard.
You peel back when he cups your face. “You shouldn't be here, bonnie.” He says, looking in pain, making every alarm bell ring on your head.
You pat his body, looking for any injury and hearing him groan whenever your hand touches his body. “Are you in pain? Did it attack you? Are you fine?” You ask frantically.
“Lass!” He grunts, making you look into his eyes, dark when you lay your eyes on his. “You need to get back! Get away from me!”
“But why?” You ask, hurt with the rejection. “I came here just for you, Johnny…”
He groans, looking away from your face as he licks his lips. He sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “You need to go back because every part of my body is screaming at me to eat you whole, bonnie.”
“You can.” It comes out before you can register it, you are not a stranger to your own feelings for the man in front of you. The weekly walks, your hand on his arm, his hand on your back, the soft pecks on your cheek when saying goodbye. It quickly had you getting home warm on the face and your tummy.
The man groans again, closing his eyes, as if your words hurt him. “You don't know what you are saying-”
“I do! I do know!” You argue, cutting him off and sitting up closer to him but his arms pull you back. He looks down on you, searching for any doubt in your face. Anything that could silence the hungry voice in his brain, but when the only thing he can find is the same hunger in yours he laps forward, crushing his lips on yours.
He is not gentle by any means, his wide hands roam your body pulling you closer, grabbing your body, winking his nails into your flush meat, biting your lips, growling on your mouth. His hands scrunch up your dress, ripping the bloomers under it making you gasp at the feeling of the cold air on your core.
“I can fucking smell you, bonnie. And it's driving me mad. You have been driving me mad for months.” He grunts against your mouth, grabbing your hips to sit you on top of his.
You whine at his words. “I want to feel you, Johnny. I want to feel you here.” You say, grabbing one of his hands to place it on top of your crying cunt.
Johnny takes a deep breath, regulating himself, before he sinks two of his fingers inside of you; the stretch making you mewl against Johnny's neck, moaning softly as he starts to move his wrist.
You can feel him grind his hips against your, the material of his trousers rubbing against your exposed clit making you whine and he quickly shushes you kissing your temple as his fingers open you up for him.
“I can't wait to sink into you, my sweet bonnie.” He groans at you, making you clench at the sound.
He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, closing his eyes as he hums at the taste. His pupils impossibly wide when he opens them again, the blue on his eyes barely visible.
He helps you onto your hand and knees, standing behind you as he licks your neck from behind, his tip probing at your entrance. You don't have a chance to peek at his shaft, so you don't expect the wide stretch that just simply seems to never end.
Never in your life has you felt this full, the stretch of his fingers far from enough and it has you falling face first with his hands on your hips.
He grunts when he bottoms out inside of you, bending down to lick the tears on your cheeks. “Shh, bonnie lass. You are taking me so well, I could live right here. So tight, so warm, so wet “ he moans, pulling his hips slightly back making you whine as you clench down making him grunt.
It's too much, it is reaching places you were not aware existed; his wide hands on your hips keeping you in place, it has your brain mushy barely able to put your hands under your face to prevent yourself from eating dirt.
His thrust starts to get deeper, slowly pulling out until only his tip is inside just to push in again just as deliciously slow as the first one. It is torturous how slow he fills you up, the empty feeling when he pulls back making you whine and move your hips back.
He pulls himself back, not wanting to give in to his instincts just yet, needing to know you are ready. The way your cunts sucks him in whenever he pulls back making him grunt; he hears you moan his name, asking for more, and that is everything he needs to hear.
He bends down, hugging your middle as he shoves his face on your neck, keeping you in place to be able to piston his dick in and out of your weeping cunt as fast as his hips allow him.
It pulls the breath out of your lungs, only able to moan loud like a whore as the man on your back fucks you like a bitch in heat.
His arms are tight around your body, his grunts and groans loud on your ear and when his hand moves lower, right over your clit rubbing it, is like pushing the button to have you coming undone.
You cry out his name, eyes rolling back as you do, your cunt pulsing around his cock making him fuck you faster.
You don't have time to come back down, not stopping pleasure waving over you. Filth being talked into your brain. “I'm gonna fuck you full of my pups, love. Gonna keep you forever, full of me, love. Gonna make you a mama, round and plush.” He groans, his brain empty of any sense and only listening to his instincts of breeding, the spring making him completely lose his ability to think clearly.
Another round of stretch has you whining softly, you are already to the brim what is it now? You cry at the feeling, Johnny mouth opening over the junction of your neck and shoulder.
His thrust became sloppy, more shallow as if he couldn't move as freely. He bites down hard on your shoulder, making you whine at the pain but the way you clench down on his length as he grunting as he comes inside of you, his hips flush with yours.
You moan at the feeling, warmth feeling every bit of your inside. But after a while you try to pull, wanting to lay down. Just for a stinging sensation to make you cry and Johnny to grab your hips to prevent you from moving.
“Let's stay like this for a little, bonnie. We stuck.” He groans, as if it makes perfect sense.
“What?” You ask confused.
“Shh, I'll explain it to you later, love.” He says, licking your neck like a dog and caressing your body.
And you want to argue, to understand what he means, to understand what is inside of you opening you so widely, to understand why he was talking about pups, to understand why he bite your shoulder so hard, to understand why the wolf following you suddenly disappeared when he appeared, to understand why he told you to go away, to understand how he found you so easily.
But your eyelids start to weigh tons when Johnny hums behind you, kissing your neck. Plus, the spring is barely starting and Johnny's den is close by. He'll explain later, when his brain stops screaming at him to keep breeding you.
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If you liked it please drop a comment or a reblog, it really helps me to want to write more 🩷
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gggukniverse · 22 hours
Text
take me down slow | jjk
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title: take me down slow
pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader
genre: m, smut, established relationship au
summary: jungkook is back home from work and even if you've missed him a lot, you let him rest tonight. though, out of all night, you have a wet dream tonight. and even if jungkook is tired, he's happy to take care of you.
warnings: dom!jk sub!reader, needy reader and sleepy koo 🥹, a little bit of oral (m receiving), a little bit of fingering too, unprotected sex (pls be safe), degradation (jk calls reader a whore like one time), daddy kink, kink discovery, creampie, just basically some lazy sleepy sex... until it's not so lazy.
wordcount: 2.2k
note: HELLO !!! 🫡 this is just a little story i wrote a long time ago and since part 3 of basic needs is still a work in progress i wanted to give you something to read while you wait :) this one is not edited at all so don't expect the greatest thing. either way, i hope you enjoy it 🩷
-
you open your eyes with a gasp and when you take in the dark room you realize it was just a dream. it felt too real. you can almost still feel jungkook”s hands all over your body, well, you kind of actually feel them now.
jungkook is fast asleep by your side, your legs tangled together while your arm is thrown over his middle and his is wrapped around your waist to keep you close to him even in his unconscious state.
he came home from work yesterday, it’s been almost four weeks since the last time you two were together but that’s what being an international star does to his schedule. he got home late in the afternoon and you only got to prepare dinner together and share a comfortable and much needed talk during dinner before he said he was so jet lagged and he needed to go to sleep. you needed him so bad but didn’t say a word, just went to bed with him and fell asleep together.
but out of all nights, you had to have a stupid wet dream tonight.
you’re actually sweating, your skin is hot and your underwear is starting to feel uncomfortable because you can feel it’s soaked. and jungkook is sleeping. he’s peacefully sleeping with his pouty mouth and furrowed eyebrows. you feel so bad but you need him even more, so you guess you can feel bad about it tomorrow morning.
you shift a little and get closer to his neck, giving his skin sweet little kisses as you slowly start to rut your hips against him to try and find any kind of friction on your crotch. like a bitch in heat, that’s what you feel like.
a groan escapes jungkook’s mouth at one specific suck to the side of his neck and his hand twitches where it’s placed on your waist.
“baby.” you whisper in his ear.
“yeah...” he only groans with that sleepy rasp to his voice you missed so much.
“i’m so horny.” you whine as you keep rutting against his hip.
that comment alone seems to wake jungkook up. he lifts his head a little to look down at you with what you suppose is an arched eyebrow, the little light in the room coming from the city lights through the window.
“baby.. .” he says and drops his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes again. he’s tired. you feel so bad.
“i’m sorry, i.. fuck..” you feel like crying but god, you’re so horny you don’t even think your brain is working anymore.
“it’s okay, baby.” jungkook mumbles and his hand that was on your waist goes down to squeeze one of your asscheeks out of nowhere, making you whimper on his neck.
“kook.. so horny..”
“mhm.. i know.” you swear if he keeps talking with that raspy voice you could come completely untouched.
“want you so bad.” your hand goes down to cup him over his sweatpants. he’s soft but you can definitely feel him twitching a little at the contact.
“make me hard, baby.” jungkook squeezes your asscheek again, making you moan.
“yes!” you quickly get up on your knees and throw the comforter away from his body, wasting no time in pushing his sweats down.
“good girl.” your boyfriend praises, his hand going to your hair when you bend over to blow air on his soft dick teasingly.
“missed you so much,” you take him into your hand and start giving his head little licks, feeling it slowly starting to harden on your hand. “missed your cock in my mouth.”
“missed your mouth too.” jungkook hums as he brushes your hair out of your face so he can see you.
“you’re so hot..” you whine when you feel him getting to full hardness just in a matter of seconds. you put it in your mouth, your lips wrapping around him and drowning in the groan that escapes jungkook’s mouth.
“that’s my girl.” the praise makes you so wet you could feel it running down your thighs if your underwear wasn’t soaking all of it.
you bob your head a few times to get him wet enough and pull away with a desperate moan, “kook, i need you.”
“i know, come here.” he pats his thighs. you work quickly, sitting down on his thighs and leaning down to catch his lips in a desperate kiss, trying not to grind against his cock.
“i love you.”
“i love you too baby,” jungkook chuckles fondly against your mouth. “c’mon, sit that pretty pussy on this cock, yeah?” he gives you one last kiss before putting his hands on your waist lifting the big shirt —his shirt— so he can take it off.
you’re only wearing your panties so as soon as the shirt hits the floor, jungkook groans at the sight even through te darkness in the room.
“pretty baby.” he praises, running his hands up and down your sides as you sit back on his thighs.
“i’m so wet.” you mutter, looking down at where you’re sitting in one of his thighs.
“yeah, can fucking feel it,” jungkook says. “would make you ride my thigh, but i want you on my cock,” he easily lifts you up by your hips and positions you on top of him. “take them off.”
you sit up for a second to take the ruined panties off and throw them away before sitting back down on top of him, your most sensitive part just above his cock.
“let me feel you,” jungkook brings one of his hands down and you choke on a moan when his fingers start running through your wet folds. “fuck yeah, that’s my whore, huh?”
“kook,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand. “fuck yes...” a little moan escapes through your lips when he slips two fingers inside.
“so little resistance, are you this needy for cock?” jungkook hums in question and you almost cry out as he slips another finger inside. you don’t tell him you’ve been using toys while he was away. either way, his fingers always feel better than any toy.
“yes, need your cock baby.”
“c’mon, sit on it.” he gives your pussy a wet slap that makes your thighs twitch for a second and then grabs the base of his cock to make it easier for you.
“okay.” you whisper and lower down, positioning on top of his cock and moaning absurdibly high when jungkook decides to drag the head of his cock through your folds.
“so wet.” he mumbles.
you think you might die if you don’t have him inside you now so you start to sink down on his cock slowly, both of you moaning in unison, until you’re sitting on top of him with his entire length inside.
“missed you so much.” you whine, feeling like you could cry.
“i missed you too baby,” he puts his hands on your hips. “so much.”
you stay there for a while, just feeling him inside as you bend down to kiss him again. he wraps his arms around you and kisses you back with so much passion you’re out of breath seconds later.
“pretty.” he looks up at you with that type of smile that makes your knees weak and you straighten up again, putting your hands on his chest for balance.
“you feel so good, kook.” you tell him because you need him to know.
“mh... yeah?” asshole.
“yes.” you moan and start grinding your hips for your pleasure, still not giving him what he wants.
“i can’t fucking see anything right now but i’m sure you’re creaming my cock so good, right?” the words make you clench around him with a whine and you hear him groan at the feeling. “so fucking tight.”
but you eventually sit up a little, letting him pull out until only his head is inside you and slowly sink down on him again. you do it slowly, still tired from how little you must’ve slept, but jungkook seems fine with it. little hums and groans escape his mouth sometimes but the time he lets out a high-pitched moan you clench so hard around him, making him moan again and grip on your hips for dear life.
“baby, god...” he breathes out. it’s clear he’s still sleepy, but it’s so fucking hot.
you lose yourself the moment his tip grazes against that spot, your hips grinding desperately for him to keep hitting it. but jungkook helps you by bending his legs a little, planting his feet on the mattress and starting to thrust up into you.
hard. you didn’t think he could be on his full potential when he’s as sleepy as he is now, but he proves you wrong fucking you so hard that you fall on top of him, your bare chest against his clothed one. yes, also the fact that he’s still half clothed and you’re completely naked makes you even wetter. but he’s slow, he gives your deep and hard thrusts but still doesn’t do it fast.
“oh my– fuck...” you breathe out against his neck, not being able to move anymore.
“feels good, baby?” he doesn’t stop fucking you, his hands also pulling your hips down to meet his thrusts so hard you know you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.
“yes daddy,” the word slips out of your mouth before you can even process it and you feel jungkook stopping completely. “fuck...” you whisper and hide your face on his neck in embarrassment. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that.”
“daddy?” jungkook asks and you hate the way you don’t know what he’s thinking right now.
“i’m so sorry... fuck, that was so weird– i’m sorry baby.”
“no, let daddy hear you baby.” he suddenly starts thrusting up inside you and you let out a scream.
“kook! oh my god!” he’s fast now. fast and hard. your whole body is completely limp on top of his.
“that’s not my name, babe.”
oh fuck.
“d– daddy..” you stutter because you can’t even form words right now.
“there you go.” he chuckles and fuck, how can he chuckle while fucking you so hard, you can’t even form a single thought in your brain right now.
“fuck!” you whine when his tip keeps brushing against that sweet spot. “i’m so– i’m so close, daddy.”
“gonna cum?” he hums.
“yeah...” you cry out and the chuckle he lets out makes you clench incredibly hard around his cock.
“gonna cum on daddy’s cock?”
“fuck! yeah... yes, yes, please.” you mumble dumbly, feeling closer and closer everytime he speaks.
“please what?” jungkook hums as his hips keep that punishing pace that has you seeing stars.
“please let me cum,” you beg. “please daddy.”
“cum for me, baby.”
your orgasm washes over your whole body like a wave, leaving your legs shaking as you fall completely limp on top of his body while he keeps thrusting to cum just a few seconds after.
“fuck...” jungkook groans as he fills you up, the sensation making you squirm a little on top of him. “that’s my good girl.” he mumbles as he rubs your back up and down soothingly.
“i missed you.” you say and finally lift your head up to leave a little kiss on his lips.
“i missed you too baby,” you can see his smile even through the dark. “i’m gonna turn us around, okay?” he warns and you just nod, letting him hug your waist to flip you two around so that he’s the one on top.
“it’s gonna be messy.” you giggle as he positions himself on his knees to pull out.
“it’s okay, i’ll change the sheets now.” jungkook shrugs and starts to pull out, making you hiss a little in discomfort but sigh when you instantly feel his cum spilling out of you and straight onto the sheets.
you can’t help but giggle again when jungkook sits back and looks down, like he’s admiring the view.
“like what you see... daddy?” you tease as you slide your hand down your body until you get to your pussy and slip two fingers inside.
“you don’t know what you’re doing to me.” he rubs his hands up and down your thighs as he keeps his eyes down where you’re gathering some of his cum with your fingers. a low groan leaves his mouth when you bring your messy fingers to your mouth and suck on them, tasting him on them.
“missed your taste.”
“you better stop that shit before i get hard again,” he warns you and you break in laughter. “wanna have a quick shower?” he asks.
“yeah, i’m a little sweaty and i feel gross.” you nod as you sit up. he nods.
“mh, i’ll change the sheets while you shower, okay? i’ll join you in a minute.”
“okay.” you smile and lean closer to him to steal another sweet kiss before getting up from the bed and making your way to the bathroom, turning the lights on first.
“baby.”
you turn around at that and jungkook looks up and down your naked body before saying, “i really missed you.”
you smile. “i missed you too.”
-
A/N: i hope you liked this story !!!!! please feel free to comment or send me an ask telling me what you thought of it, feedback helps a lot ! see you in the next one :) 🫂💐
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lowkeyerror · 2 days
Text
The Family Business Ch.6
WandaNat x Raeder
Word Count: 2.4k
Ch. Notes: Rising tensions
Summary: The after math of the fallout between Wanda and her family leads to an all too important business meeting the next day.
An: haha I didn't almost forget to post today... And don't hate me for the next chapter please
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
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“What um… what number are you guys staying in? Do you know?”  You ask, finally breaking the silence as you arrived at the building.
“220,” Natasha answers for them.
You nod, “I’m in 216, we’ll be right across from each other.”
The ride in the elevator was as silent as the car ride. The anger that was permeating off of Wanda had slightly reduced, but not by much. When the elevator opens, you escort the women to their apartment.
You point across the hall then say, “Well this is you and that is me if you need anything you can always knock."
You attempt to walk away, but a soft grip around your wrist stops you.  Your gaze slowly rises to meet Wanda’s. She pulls you into her and the warmth of her embrace let’s you know that she’ll be alright.
“Goodnight little krolik,” she kisses the top of your head before making her way into her new home.
“She’s going to be ok right?” You ask Natasha and she smiles softly at you.
“I’ll make sure of it lisichka. Go rest, you've had an eventful day. “
Its like her words trigger a yawn from your lips. Exhaustion is finally catching up to you properly.
“Goodnight, Nat.”
Once you go into your condo you sigh. The quiet finally getting the best of you. Though you were exhausted your mind was racing. Car chase, Wanda, Natasha, dinner, it all hit you at once.  Despite your thoughts you attempt to get ready for bed.
Your phone buzzes on the nightstand as soon as your head hits the pillow. It’s a text from Dragos calling for a meeting tomorrow at 9am. You put the phone back down and shut your eyes. This would all feel easier to deal with in the morning.
When your alarm rings at 7 am, you are quick to shut it off. Your sleep had been restless, and you feel the previous nights events weighing heavily on your shoulders. Nonetheless you stumble out of your bed.
After you brush your teeth, you throw on a pair of sweats to get your morning run in before the meeting. Usually, you’d do a run followed by a more rigorous workout, but you were short on time.
Your mind is clear as you begin to run away from the condo. Your only thoughts are focusing on your breathing.
Gloom hadn’t yet left the city. Though it wasn’t raining yet you wouldn’t be surprised if it started up later. Traffic seemed light, not a lot of cars were passing you on the road. The cool air was welcomed against your face as your body temperature slowly rose with each stride.
For a small moment in time, you were at peace. Part of you wished to skip the meeting and just take a lazy day. However, that wasn’t an option because you didn’t work in a regular job field. The non-negotiables of your profession were few but harsh. While you knew the Maximoff’s were lenient with you, you never craved to take advantage of that.
When you arrive back to your building, you quickly shower and dress. You had just finished doing your hair when your doorbell rang. Opening the door, you are met by a familiar red head, who seems to be in a better mood than last night.
“Morning little krolik, I come with coffee and a bagel.”
You smile, “The occasion?”
“I was hoping we’d carpool to work.”
You nod a few times, “Of course, just let me grab my coat and we can head out.”
Quickly you grab your belongings and follow Wanda to her car. You quietly munch on the bagel during the car ride.
“No Natasha today?”
She shakes her head, “Papa is still unsure of her role in the company, so he doesn't want her at the meeting.”
“Speaking of Dragos, are you feeling any better from… yesterday?”
Wanda takes a deep breath. You see her hands clench around the wheel and her demeanor shifts slightly.
“I assume the meeting will further address what happened last night,” she speaks flatly.
“Wanda, you have to keep calm.”
You see her jaw clench, “I will reflect whatever mood is brought unto me.”
You shake your head, “You and I both know that nothing gets solved with that kind of behavior.”
“So, what, you want me to bow down and apologize?” The irritation in her voice doesn’t phase you.
“That’s not what I said. I’m saying you can’t get into a yelling match, and you can’t put your hands on anyone.”
“If they were honest with me from the beginning I wouldn’t have-"
You cut her off, “I didn’t ask for an explanation Wanda. I’m telling you something that I know you are already aware of. If you want to head this organization, you have to keep your emotions in check.”
She mumbles underneath her breath. You raise an eyebrow at her childish antics, “What was that?”
“I said, it’s easier to keep my emotions in check when the lies aren’t about you.”
You fumble with your words briefly before speaking, “Well I told you truth, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but- “
“Well, there you have it. If you want to know something about me, it’s best to ask me. However, if I tell you, and you don’t like what you hear you have to deal with that on your own time,” you glance at her.
She chuckles softly to herself, “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to how much you’ve grown.”
You smile, but then it falters as you recall the argument from last night. Wanda had made Pietro and Dragos retreat instantly when mentioning something that revolved around you. You want to know what it is.
“Wanda, what are they hiding from me?”
You can visibly see the woman pale, “Do you trust me Y/n?”
You nod slowly.
She sighs, “When it’s the right time, I’ll tell you.”
You want to argue more, but you don’t. You trust Wanda, you know she has your best interests in mind. So, you fight the urge to be upset for the rest of the car ride.
When you get to the office, the two of you ride straight to the top floor. Dragos, Pietro, and Flora were already there. The room is tense as you both sit across from them. Usually you’d sit by Pietro’s side, but you weren’t going to let Wanda feel alone in this.
“You can disagree with me if you want, but your actions yesterday proved why keeping you in the dark about the situation with Y/n was the right thing to do. You’re hot-headed now, but back then you were even worse,” Dragos looks his daughter in the eye when he speaks.
You can feel the anger radiating off of Wanda’s body and for a moment you think she is going to have an outburst. Instead, she puts her elbows on the table and leans forward, never breaking eye contact with her father.
“We are a family and I thought that we agreed on having no secrets from each other. In this business a secret is the most dangerous weapon that could be used against us. My potential reaction aside, keeping this secret from me is breaking the rules you set in place. Or do the rules only apply to me?”
Wanda’s response was damn good in your opinion. Although she was angry you saw her hands clasping each other for dear life as a sign of restraint.
“Can we just move on from this? It was 5 years ago, and Y/n is fine now,” Pietro tries to defuse the tension.
Wanda shakes her head, “As much as this is about Y/n, it’s also about not respecting me enough to keep me properly informed about our family and our business. It’s unfair for you all to sit here and claim that I’m solely in the wrong. We can’t move on until all parties take responsibility for their part in this,” Wanda holds firm.
It's weird being in a meeting about yourself, but almost having nothing to do with anything being discussed.
“Have you ever considered the possibility that Y/n didn’t want us to tell you?” Dragos states and your body tenses.
“No,” Wanda says nonchalantly, as if his question was unimportant.
“What if she…”
Wanda’s glare hits her father like an ice pick to the back, “This isn’t a hypothetical, papa. If in some universe out their Y/n wanted you to keep it a secret from me, then that would be fine. However, this isn’t that universe, now is it Y/n?”
She doesn’t look at you, but you answer her question firmly, “No, it isn’t.”
“The best way to move forward from this is an apology from both sides. Wanda has just returned and we’ve dwelled on this matter for too long,” Flora stops the argument in it’s track.
You thought it was a civil solution. It would be for the best, but just by taking a quick glance at Wanda you can tell that she doesn’t want to apologize. It was her rigid posture and her hardened eyes. She felt like she did nothing wrong, but you were hoping she would stand down for the greater good.
“Wanda, I’m sorry we intentionally kept this from you. It is not the way we do things around here. Forgive me, docha,” Dragos speaks sincerely as he looks at Wanda.
She doesn’t seem to be budging. You make the judgment call by discreetly placing your hand on her thigh. This causes her to look in your direction and you speak to her with your eyes. Your features are telling her to apologize. You see her posture relaxes and her eyes soften a bit.
“I’m sorry for the way that I acted last night. It was uncalled for, regardless of my feelings,” she speaks with an equal amount of sincerity.
“Good, now that we’ve settled that I’m going to cut to the chase. Natasha, what assets does she bring to the table?” Dragos moves on to business fairly quickly.
Wanda follows his suit, speaking highly of her wife, “Natasha is a hands on kind of employee. She thrives being where the action is and that doesn’t just mean in a fight. She’s a highly trained assassin, her accolades are insurmountable, and there’s quite literally nothing that she can’t do.”
“She can start as head of security, and we can see what she can do from there,” Dragos offers, but even you think the role is undercutting Natasha’s abilities.
Wanda seems frustrated, but she is going to agree to these terms.
You speak up, “I think she should be in charge of field operations.”
“You and Pietro handle the field operations just fine, why add a third?” Dragos questions with curiosity not animosity.
“To avoid things like what happened yesterday with Mr. H. Right now, the way we operate is that Piet comes and gets me when needed and we just go from there. It’s not strategic at all, I’m usually in the car before I know what exactly it is that we’re doing,” you argue your position.
“It always works out,” Pietro fires back.
Your eyes lock on his, “But it could work better. With me running numbers for the company and for our business, I don’t always have the time to sit and plan out these operations. We all know that Piet doesn’t believe in planning. It’s field operations, it shouldn’t always just be Piet and me. We should have men out there with us incase things go south, but there’s never a plan for that.”
“And you think the addition of Ms. Romanoff will add…” Dragos leads off his sentence.
“She’s going to add structure and power by organizing this department into an actual department rather than just Piet and I doing deliveries in car. She’s experienced and we should be using that to our advantage, especially with us potentially being undercut at the moment.”
Dragos ponders, which is a good thing. It means he believes there is something to everything you’re saying.
“Give her a week on field operations and if you don’t see any type of benefit, she can be head of security,” Wanda offers a compromise.
“Only a week?” His disbelief is hidden in his voice, but you know it’s there.
“It’s all she needs,” Wanda says with confidence.
“Alright, that’s everything for today- “
“We’re not going to address the Kingpin situation?” You stay planted firmly in your chair.
Dragos sighs, “I will deal with Kingpin personally.  I had Kate set up a meeting at neutral territory.”
You shook your head knowing what Dragos was insinuating, “You’re trying to have a one-on-one meeting with this bastard? Everyone in this room knows that idea sounds like shit.”
“It’s not an idea, it’s happening in a few hours,” Dragos counters.
“Papa you’re going to have someone tailing you right? You don’t trust him to keep true to his word,” Pietro looks at his father in disbelief.
Dragos’s hand trails through his thick gray hair, “I’ve dealt with Kingpin before. I’ve known him for a long time, and I will be prepared for whatever he has coming.”
“Papa you can’t be serious?” Wanda has features akin to Pietro.
The arguing is about to continue, but then Flora speaks up, “Your father knows what he’s doing kids. Have some faith in him, he’s got a lot of experience for all of you. If he thinks this is the right call, then it has to be. Now, you’re dismissed.”
Suddenly there was no room for arguing with her. You try to keep calm but your feelings on the matter aren’t well hidden as you storm out of the room. Wanda and Pietro leave after you, both with the goal of trying to comfort you. However, their moods weren’t much better than yours.
When it was just the husband and wife in the office Flora let her nerves show. She was unsure about this plan. The lack of support from the group only heightened her anxiety for her husband’s well-being.
“You better prove them wrong Dragos. If anything were to happen to you I-"
The older man is gentle as he reaches for his wife’s hand, in the way he is always gentle with her. He places a kiss to the back of her palm, “Nothing is going to happen to me, moya lybov. I’m going to take car of this business and this family like I always have.”
Dragos wasn’t going to show his nerves. He never did, but to think they didn’t exist would’ve been ignorant. There wasn’t a reality that Dragos saw where the meeting went sideways. It had to go well, or a war would tear across the city. That thought protected him like a bullet proof vest. He was going to protect the industry he worked to build because that was the only option.
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xoxunhinged · 3 days
Text
Sick <3
Zombie!Ghost x Survivor You ☢️🖤
Part 2: Mentions of gore, bit of a longer one soz about me - I just love the thought of Si battling for his humanity, he’s very dead, but so are you without him…
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You pick your way through the undergrowth that runs alongside the road, your constant shadow stalking after you.
He smells better, since you washed the stench of destruction off him. But the lack of muck covering his face, throws the absence of life into sharp relief.
Most of the time, you just talk at him. Knowing he won’t reply. It keeps you sane.
But Ghost enjoys your chatter, the human part of his brain purrs at the sound of your voice. The undead bit remains restless though, he has to snack while you’re asleep, doing anything he can to keep the hunger at bay.
Dead animals mainly, there aren’t any survivors left to pick off round here. He doesn’t like to imagine what you might do, if you saw him eating raw meat greedily, blood and saliva dripping down his throat.
Ghost would rather you didn’t see him like that actually. Feral and rabid.
You sit down on a tree stump, wiping sweat off your brow.
“Wish I knew your name. I need something to call you.”
Ghost gazes at you blankly, pale eyes just watching.
“Skull face seems a bit obvious.” You concede, eyeing the mask he still hasn’t taken off. “You’ve got a UK flag on your gear, maybe I should call you Brit?”
The voice of Si sniggers in his echoing brain. From somewhere inside that muscled chest, he lets out a grunt.
You stare at him, it’s the first vaguely intelligible noise he’s made around you. Or at least the first sound you can interpret. Normally it’s gurgling or strained huffs.
“Did you just agree?” Your voice is shrill. “You want me to call you Brit?”
Ghost just looks at you again. One gloved hand clenches, then releases. It’s impossible to read his expression, mask and white gaze not giving anything away.
“No? Yes? Make that noise again if it’s a yes.”
He stays stonily silent. Then something odd happens. The part of him that still remains Si and isn’t consumed by the virus, fights for dominance. With a Herculean effort it seems, he beats a palm against the little pocket on his vest.
You eye him, then you shrug. This situation can’t possibly get any odder, so you might as well keep living it. Moving slightly closer, you examine his pocket.
Looking up, you see his pallor, the way his teeth look ashy white in their bluish gums. But there’s something in his milky eyes, a fierce determination that’s crystallised behind the opaque lenses.
Ghost lets out a tiny sigh. There’s no air in his lungs to expel, but he wants to communicate with you so badly.
When he was alive, he was a man of few words. Now, he wishes he could have at least some of them back, to use again for you.
Carefully you open his pocket. Inside are dog tags, the metal flashing as it catches the light.
“Simon Ghost Riley?” You smile at him.
The exertion of his small voluntary action has exhausted him. But he forces a low grunt from his mouth again, before Si recedes back under the weight of the virus.
You place the tags around your neck.
“Come on then Ghost, we’ve got ground to cover.”
As night begins to fall, you manage to locate an empty stone outhouse with a reasonably sturdy door. It’s the best you can do. There’s some stuff inside you can use to barricade yourself in at least.
Picking through the random tools and crap, you look up to see Ghost hunched in the doorframe. It looks like he’s keeping watch, your endless sentry, unblinking and chilling to behold.
It’s not rational to trust him. But you do. Inexplicably, you’re sure that whatever is going on in his subjugated mind, isn’t going to hurt you.
Unrolling your sleeping pad, you try and select a comfy piece of concrete. You wait for him to leave, as usual, before you settle in. But he doesn’t shift an inch.
“Need to shut the door now Ghost. See you in the morning.”
Slowly, he moves his head on a stiff neck and looks at you colourlessly. He’s so fucking stubborn, even dead, planting two booted feet firmly on the floor.
“Go on!” You encourage him, like he’s a badly behaved puppy who won’t go outside. “Stop being a ratbag!”
He lets out a huff, then grimly makes his way over to a corner. Obstinately he parks himself against the wall, misty eyes now staring out of the small window.
The panes of glass are dirty, but the virus has made his senses sharper. Useful in tracking the living, but now they keep you safe from the other monsters that roam the night.
Si knows he is a monster too, but surely the fact that he’s able to acknowledge that counts for something. Sets him apart from the others?
He doesn’t look like he wants to move. But you raise your voice and try again.
“Ghost! Please can you leave and let me sleep?”
There’s a tiny jerk, just a small hitch of his chin. It’s probably old nerves firing, but it sure as hell looks like he just shook his head.
Maybe it can’t hurt, after all if he disappeared in the night you’d be lost without him. So you lock yourself and your undead friend inside.
Sleep comes quickly, brought on by the miles you’ve put underneath your feet as you look for any sign of life.
Simon doesn’t rest. Obviously he doesn’t need to. He watches the evening blend seamlessly into the early dawn outside the window. Back when he first signed up, he used to do guard duty all the time, enjoying the peace and quiet of life before the world woke up.
It’s no different now. He likes the way the birdsong fills his sensitive ears. Every snap of a twig is registered and even the wind whistling under the door is peaceful.
You shiver slightly, tugging your sleeping bag up in the draught.
So warm and soft. Still alive, you can feel the cold. The virus howls for him to move closer, seek out that sweet body heat you possess. But Si reins it in.
He’ll scare you if he gets too near. Also, Simon doesn’t usually act without permission, a habit formed from years of service.
Simon had people touch him without permission in his former life, and the consequences of that were very nearly his undoing.
Instead he just watches, haunts you. Living up to his name. A tangible spectre.
Human Si would have loved the sight of you in his dog tags. The steel sitting close to your heart.
Even now, he’s fighting so hard to get some measure of control back over his body. Wanting to do more than just follow you around like a stray dog. Growling at any other infected individual that dares to come near you.
In death, Ghosts presence is just as commanding as it was in life. You told him yesterday he was the king of the zombies, after he warned off a particularly venomous looking corpse.
The chuckle inside his head at that statement, almost felt like it might burst out of his broken mouth.
Si has faced his own mortality so many times. Now he’s the reanimated incarnation of it.
There was a fleeting part of him, that wondered if he should try and turn you, so you could live out the remainder of eternity together.
But he just couldn’t resign you to that. Simon isn’t a selfish person, not in life and not in undeath.
Still, it’s getting easier to access the parts of his consciousness that are unaffected by the virus. Since he met you, the voice of Si has become louder.
There’s a glimmering hope inside him, that even if you both manage to locate civilisation in whatever form, you’ll let him stay with you.
You’ve come on leaps and bounds in a few weeks. Now you’ve let him watch you sleep, when you’re at your most vulnerable.
That’s a level of trust that would have had the old Si grinning from ear to ear. But as his face doesn’t seem capable of that anymore, he contents himself with humming instead.
You wake to the sound of Ghost, mumbling a croaky tune, the sound strained through a voice box that hasn’t been heard since he died.
It sounds a lot like Three Lions. So you sleepily sing footballs coming home, until a flicker of life flashes across his wasted face.
Masterlist for this series is here
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purple-babygirl · 1 day
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don't call me daddy V
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader Word count: 4,660 Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails. Warnings: crying, age regression, fluff, a little angst A/N: i would like to give credits for this part and its idea to🦊nonnie because without her ask there might've not been a fifth part to this story. Having said that, i'm thinking this should be the last part of the story because i am out of scenario your girl is empty. but anyway, please enjoy this one and have a tight hug xx💜💜
~
When they arrived back at her house, she was asleep in the passenger seat.
Bucky didn’t want to wake her up. He knew she barely got any sleep last night because of the mean cough she was suffering from and so he carefully carried her inside without a word.
His heart kept speeding up every time he would remember what she called him after taking her shot as he slipped her feet out of her shoes and socks and tucked her in her bed.
He frankly had no idea what he would do if she was to wake up little and if he was ready to be a good daddy to her. What if he messed up again? He seemed to be a pro at that.
Luckily, when she woke up later that night, she was her big self again and didn’t seem to have any recollection of calling Bucky daddy, or if she did, she didn’t mention it.
Bucky gave her her cough syrup and the rest of the meds, helping her go back to sleep as he presumed his place on the floor by her bed.
In a way he couldn’t explain, even her coughs were more comfort than the silence at his house, and definitely more comfort than his nightmares.
It was 12 days of little sleep, a lot of crying, meds, movies and sleepovers until she was fully cured again, and even though Bucky hated that she was sick, those seemed to have been some of the best days he’s ever gotten to live since he’s come back to himself.
He got to laugh with someone, care for someone, comfort someone and enjoy the company of someone. And not just anyone; it was her.
But something was missing still.
Bucky wanted her to call him daddy. More than anything and from the bottom of his heart, he wanted to deserve that name, that role.
What Bucky had noticed in the days he’d stayed at her place was that she had no family pictures at all.
She had framed pictures of friends, of herself, of Corgi, but none of family members.
It didn’t come as a surprise because she’d mentioned it to him before, and he just knew that if he wanted to be her caregiver, her daddy, Bucky had to prove to her that he was nothing like those who’d hurt her. He had to prove himself worthy of taking care of her; set himself apart from them.
And to do that, he had to know more.
“I see no family pictures anywhere,” Bucky spoke as he helped her plant the new tulips she had in place.
“Yeah, we’re not close.” She shrugged, hand stuttering just the tiniest bit in their movements.
“Can I ask why?”
She sighed, “why?”
“I’m trying to learn from the mistakes of others.”
She laughed, “really?”
“Really.”
Oh, this wasn’t a joke?
“You know you don’t have to do that anymore, right?” She couldn’t understand why he would want to try again when the report was handed and he was let off the hook.
“I want to. I really want to.” Bucky wished his gloved hands weren’t muddy as they were so he could touch her face.
He found himself craving physical contact around her more often than not.
“You finally believe in the power of the program?” She teased, keeping her focus on the flowers she was rooting.
“No, I couldn’t care less about the institution and its programs.”
“Not even Mrs. Morrison?” She joked again.
“I’m serious, doll.”
“Why then?” She dropped the bulbs, deciding to face Bucky.
“I want it because it’s you I’ll be daddy to.”
“They never loved me for who I was.” She answered his previous question and Bucky felt a pang at his chest.
He’s made her feel the same way.
He remained silent, not wanting to interrupt her in fear that she might stop.
“I always had to be a certain way, say certain things, act a certain way. Do what we say and then we’ll see if we can love you.”
Bucky might’ve been speechless, but his eyes spoke a million words, begging hers for forgiveness for his ignorant mistakes.
“That’s why it hurt so much when you showed me you didn’t accept the little version of me.”
“I’m so sorry-”
She shook her head, stopping him.
“I’ve been rejected for too long, Bucky, too many times. It took me a good while to finally believe that I was worth loving despite my quirks, ugly parts and possible mistakes. Took too long to teach myself that it didn’t matter if I cried all the time, was too clingy or too talkative; I was still lovable.” She pointed to her chest as she finished her words.
Bucky took his gloves off, pulling her in for a hug, unable to stop himself anymore. He had no words, only anger and remorse raging inside his chest.
“It takes you a while to unlearn stuff you’ve been taught your whole life by the people who were supposed to love you the most.” She whispered into his shirt.
“Doll, I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered back.
“It’s okay.” She looked up at him, “I appreciate you, Bucky, I really do, but I don’t think I’m ready to lose everything I’ve built inside me if you decide in the middle of it that you weren’t fully ready to take on such a responsibility. I forgive you. I promise. But I don’t trust you enough to give up full control of myself and my life to you again. I’m sorry.” She pulled away from the hug, giving Bucky the option to walk away.
“Don’t be. I understand.” He remained in place.
“Are you gonna disappear now?” She wondered with a sad smile.
“No, you’re not getting rid of me so easily.” Bucky returned the smile, putting his gloves back on.
She smiled gratefully, “I don’t wanna lose you either. You’re such a great friend. And I owe you forever for taking care of me those past few days.”
“What if I prove myself to you though?” Bucky asked, dipping a tulip bulb in the soil.
“What?” She tilted her head in confusion.
“What if I show you how serious I am about this and prove myself worthy of you?”
“Bucky, you don’t have to do that. I know you have a life, responsibilities-”
“I want to do it. There’s nothing more important to me right now than this. And you.”
“If you’re doing this just because you can’t accept that you failed the program-”
“I swear on my ma’s soul, I want to do this. Because of you, doll. For you and with you.”
The words died on her tongue as she watched his sincere eyes implore hers.
“Would you give me a chance to prove myself to you? Please?”
“Okay, Bucky.” She swallowed, “one chance.”
“That’s all I need.” Bucky smiled.
~ After their conversation in the garden, Bucky had to go home.
She was not sick anymore and he didn’t have a reason to stick around. He also didn’t want to push her on the matter of regressing, so, respectful of her boundaries, he left.
His heart was heavy when he entered his empty apartment to nothing and no one. Being alone in here wasn’t something he enjoyed anymore.
It has been 2 days of intense research that Bucky has conducted on age regression and partners in little space when she texted him that night.
“Mr. Barnes, can you please come over?”
He wasn’t particularly happy about the fact that he was Mr. Barnes again, but he certainly was happy that she thought to text him when little. This was an improvement and it counted to Bucky.
“Will be right there, doll.” He texted back, running to his motorcycle.
~
Bucky took in a deep breath before knocking at her door, ready to prove himself a suitable daddy.
She opened with teary eyes, making Bucky’s heart sink.
“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asked as he stepped inside.
“I can’t open the pickle jar and now my hands hurt,” she cried, showing him the insides of her palms and how red they were from trying so hard to twist the cap on the glass jar.
She was indeed a little worried that Bucky might find this stupid, that he might yell at her or get upset because she was crying over something minimal in his eyes.
But that wasn’t the case at all. The man was just thankful that she was alright.
“Oh, doll,” Bucky sighed in relief, glad that she wasn’t actually hurt.
Until he remembered that this was a big deal to her. Her hands hurt and she was frustrated because the cap wouldn’t budge.
Moments like these definitely required a daddy.
“I thought Mr. Barnes could help,” she sniffled, her hand wiping under her nose, “metal arm.” She touched his gloved hand.
Bucky chuckled, taking the pickle jar out of her hand, “what if I can do it without the metal arm? What would you give me in return?”
“The biggest pickle?” She offered, wiping her tears away from her eyes, her crying stopping at once.
Bucky laughed at her innocence, “no, I want something else, doll.”
She tilted her head expectantly.
What could Mr. Barnes possibly want? Did he want the whole jar? Would he at least leave her one pickle? She was craving pickles-
“I want you to start calling me Bucky again. No more Mr. Barnes. Can you do that for me, doll?”
Oh, that was something she could do.
“Only if you can open the jar with your not metal hand,” she challenged, her little mind amazed by the idea because look at her hand! It had red marks all over when she tried opening that jar.
“You got it,” Bucky said, easily twisting the cap on the jar open, making her mouth open with it.
“Woah,” she whispered as Bucky handed her the jar with a laugh.
“You’re welcome, doll.” He smiled, watching her chew on a crunchy pickle.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She smiled back, offering him a big pickle.
Bucky’s nerves tingled, knowing he was one step closer to her and his desired title.
~
Moving forward, Bucky learned to distinguish between her big self and little self through texts.
Her little self would always talk about him and herself in third person.
Plus, her big self always needed help with bigger things like needing Bucky to fix her sink or look at her car, knowing he might burn down the city if she went back to asking Adam for help with those things.
Her little self, on the other hand, would need help with the lighter things, the sweeter things. She would call asking for help with Corgi, something too high on a shelf or even just wanting Bucky’s company.
Tonight was one of those nights.
It was thundering more than usual and Bucky had wanted to go and be with her, but he didn’t want to invade her privacy.
But then she called and her scared voice saying his name had Bucky moving even before she uttered the words.
He was proud that she now knew that he was just only one call away; that he would come running whenever she needed. She could finally count on him to be there for her and he couldn’t be more contented.
He knew that consistency was important in relationships, especially one where she was little.
“Hey, doll, it’s okay. It’s just a little thunder,” Bucky cooed, rubbing her back as she let him inside.
“I’m not scared anymore now that Bucky is here.” She smiled, her breathing visibly slowing down.
“Well, I’m staying the night so you have nothing to worry about,” he chuckled, following her to the bedroom.
“Bucky covered his motorcycle?” she asked, worried his vehicle would get ruined.
“Leave that for now, we’ll hose it down together tomorrow when it’s sunny.”
“Corgi loves the hose,” she spoke out the first thought that came to her mind and Bucky loved it, laughing heartily at her comment.
The dog’s ears perked at the sound of his name, jumping at Bucky’s feet as soon as he entered the bedroom, waiting for his share of pets.
He bent down to give the dog some love when he heard her sigh.
“Corgi loves Bucky too.” She smiled shyly, internally wishing her name was Corgi.
“Bucky loves Corgi right back,” Bucky whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead.
She only smiled bigger, running to her bed and getting under the covers.
When Bucky got down to sleep on the floor that night, however, she slipped off her bed and right next to him.
“Doll, the floor is too cold for you. Sleep on your bed, come on.” Bucky sat up, wanting to help her up on the bed again but she wouldn’t move.
“Wanna be next to Bucky,” she said with a pout.
“But-”
“I know Bucky can’t sleep on beds. It’s okay. Doll will sleep here,” she told him, squeezing Wolfie in her arms.
Bucky’s heart fluttered and it made his mind light up with an idea only a true daddy would have.
“Do you wanna build a fort?” He suggested and her face instantly beamed with a smile as she nodded.
Of course she did!
That night as Bucky gathered all of her soft blankets to make her a floor mattress inside a fort full of fluffy pillows, he knew he was smitten.
This girl had him head over heels for her and there was nothing in the world that he wouldn’t do just to see her smile.
“Can Bucky please tell me a story?”
“Sure, doll. Do you have any books I can read to you from?”
“I have books that big me likes but I don’t want those.”
“What would you like then?”
“I want a story that is Bucky’s. Tell me a story you didn’t tell anyone at the institution.”
Oh, she was jealous. The thought made Bucky smile as he pulled the covers up to her neck to make sure she was warm down on the floor.
“Okay, you ready?” Bucky asked, dimming the lights in her room.
She made herself comfortable under the covers, big eyes watching Bucky’s handsome grin as the cozy atmosphere he’s created comforted her through the storm, “ready.”
“Once upon a time, there was a small idiot who picked up fights with boys much bigger than himself. His name was Steve…”
Bucky fell asleep with his hand stroking her hair, watching her soft breaths leave her chest that night without abruptly waking up in the middle of it for the first time in forever.
~
Bucky didn’t know what it was like to be her, but he was going to do his best to put himself in her shoes like she’d previously tried.
She deserved to be fully and entirely understood.
He witnessed a glimpse of her feelings towards the concept of family a couple of times when they would watch movies like The Lion King or Lilo and Stitch.
She didn’t seem to be affected by the death of Mufasa even though he knew her to be a very sensitive little. She was sad for Simba, of course, but not for Mufasa’s demise. Similarly with Lilo and Stitch, she didn’t care much about the concept of the family.
There was an actual barrier separating her from experiencing any positive feelings that came with the idea of family. Because she had none to associate with hers.
With some more research, Bucky managed to find a few animated movies that didn’t seem to revolve around the idea of family love and how family was everything and whatnot.
One of those movies was The Willoughbys. The movie depicted how neglecting some parents can be and that 2 people loving each other and getting married didn’t necessarily mean they would love their children too.
It was a very unique movie and Bucky was actually happy they could make such movies nowadays.
When the song I Choose You started playing in the movie, Bucky felt her small hand squeezing into a fist.
He silently wrapped his hand around hers, offering quiet comfort and support.
He looked down to see tears in her innocent eyes as she showed her feelings for the first time during one of their movie nights.
 “Bucky chooses me?” she croaked, lip trembling as she cried.
“Bucky chooses you, doll. Wholeheartedly.” Bucky reassured, bringing her knuckles to his lips.
“I choose Bucky, too.” She pulled him down by one cheek to leave a kiss on the other.
Bucky froze.
It was the first time she’s kissed him since he applied that cream on her burnt hand back at his house. She did it on her own, too.
“And I choose Corgi,” she said, running her fingers through the hair of the puppy sleeping soundly on her lap.
“That’s right, and Corgi chooses you. Family doesn’t have to be the ones you were born with, doll,” Bucky told her as he wiped her tears away, “you can choose the family you want for yourself”.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him tight, afraid he might not be real and that this moment is all made up.
“You’re welcome, doll.” Bucky kissed the side of her head as they pulled away.
“Can I choose Adam, too?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper as she gauged Bucky’s reaction.
She could actually hear his chest rumble with a low “argh” before he nodded despite himself, making her giggle.
“Don’t worry. I only have one Bucky.” She reassured, slinging her arm around Bucky’s metal one.
One daddy, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. She was still scared.
~
Bucky knew that she needed her own independent time alone sometimes even when little, and he would allow her just that, texting throughout the day just to make sure she was okay, reminding her to drink water and take care of herself.
But there was one particularly hard weekend when she felt real down about some of her plants dying as the storm took them out of the ground.
When she opened the door she was clearly disheveled, hair all messy and looking like it hadn’t been brushed all week.
“Hey, doll,” Bucky spoke gently as he closed the door behind him.
She quickly ran into his arms, needing the comfort more than anything, “my plants are dead and Corgi peed on my new carpet and my hair doesn’t smell like shampoo anymore and I’m-”
Damn. She was spiraling. She just slipped out of his hug and on the floor. Oh no.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here now and I got you, okay?” Bucky tried his best to reassure her, getting on his knees before her to look into her eyes.
“Okay,” she hiccupped, nodding even though she wasn’t fully convinced.
“What happened to the plants?” Bucky wanted to handle her concerns one at a time.
“My apple trees were pulled out of place because of the storm,” she started sobbing again as she remembered what had happened to her hard word.
“Okay, okay, tell you what, I’ll put them back in place, okay?”
“Really?” She sniffed.
“Really.” Bucky smiled kindly.
“Okay.” She nodded, trying to control her breathing.
“And we’ll throw the new carpet in the washing machine, and keep Corgi in his playpen with pee pads,” Bucky gave her the steps of how the day was going to go, leading her by the hand to where Corgi was.
“Okay.” She nodded again, her tears ceasing.
“And while the carpet is being washed, I’ll help you wash your hair. Does that sound okay?” Bucky asked her permission, wanting to make sure she was completely comfortable.
“Yes.” She was finally smiling again as well.
“Okay, let’s get you in here,” Bucky told the puppy before placing him inside his playpen.
He spread a few sheets on which the dog could pee if needed before collecting the affected mat.
“Let’s take this to the washing machine,” Bucky voiced his movements, wanting to put her at ease as he kept her hand in his and walked with her to the bathroom.
“In you go.” Bucky threw the rug inside the washing machine along with some detergent.
“Now what do we do?” He asked her, wanting to keep her out of her head.
“Wash doll’s hair?” She asked with half a smile.
“That’s right, get in there.” Bucky tilted his head towards the bathtub with a smile.
And for some reason, it was different this time. He didn’t feel all weird seeing her naked. Maybe it was because he knew her better this time and was familiar with her in more ways than one that such intimacy didn’t startle him. He wasn’t sure, but Bucky wasn’t complaining, only grateful as she closed her sweet eyes and trusted him to wash her hair for her.
~
“Alright, show me how it’s done,” Bucky encouraged, instructing her to whip her hair to the front so he could wrap the towel around it.
She did as told with a giggle, dangling her hair before her and letting Bucky wrap it up the best he could.
“Off to the couch.” Bucky chuckled as he watched her skip in her cashmere bathrobe to her couch.
Later after Bucky has brushed her hair for her, he helped her get dressed and they went outside together to replant the fallen apple saplings the wind had knocked down just like he promised.
The smile on her face was new and unmatched as she watched Bucky handle her plants with care.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him close, hardly wanting to let go as they stood in the middle of her garden.
Bucky was now rooted in her heart just like the plants in her gardens were in their soil.
She didn’t think she could be away from him anymore. She didn’t want to be away from him anymore.
“Daddy, I’m hungry,” she whispered timidly as they started walking back to the house.
“What do you want on your piz- what did you say?” Bucky stopped in his tracks.
“I’m hungry.” She bit her lip and looked away quickly, hesitant now that his eyes were on her.
“Before that, doll.” Bucky brought her eyes back to his by her chin.
“D-daddy?”
Bucky smiled a smile that reached his eyes as they lit up with gratitude. He couldn’t believe he was finally hearing that word.
“Daddy’s thinking pizza, doll. Sound okay?”
Her face glowed up with her own smile as she witnessed Bucky, with full commitment, refer to himself as daddy.
She nodded, knowing this was going to be the most delicious pizza she was ever going to eat.
~
“What is daddy thinking?” she asked when she noticed his eyes on her, slipping a loose strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear.
“Just thinking about all the things you make me feel, doll.” He smiled, turning his face to kiss her hand before it left his face.
Her face started heating up as she retracted her hand, tingles spreading all over her, “things like what?”
“You make me feel like there’s still good in this world. Like I’m worth patience and kindness and maybe even… love,” Bucky voiced his feelings, eyes dreamy as they watched her pretend to be focused on organizing her stuffies’ seats on the floor.
“You are, daddy,” she replied sincerely, hurting inside that Bucky might doubt this even a little.
“I can’t believe I was so horrible to you, doll.” Bucky’s sigh came out hot from his chest, holding so much regret.
“That’s in the past, daddy. Doll doesn’t think about it no more.” She smiled, her littler hand covering his own lovingly before giving a soothing squeeze.
“You’re just perfect, aren’t you?” Bucky held her hand up and gave the back of it a noisy kiss.
She laughed, face heating up more at the sweet attention, “no body’s perfect, remember?”
Bucky tried to continue laughing with her but he was still kicking himself for what he did to her during her visit to his house.
“How did you even tolerate me back then, doll? I was the worst.” Bucky covered his face with his hands as he threw his head back, laying on his back on the floor full of shame.
“That’s not true. You just misunderstood me and that happens!” She was quick to defend him, refusing the idea that he would even criticize himself, “daddy is the best.”
“I know, but it still gave me no right to treat you the way I did.” Bucky’s eyes teared up at the memories of his very mean words and actions, “I made you cry a lot.” He struggled to forgive himself for that one.
“Daddy, I forgave you, I swear,” she promised, her hands cradling his full cheeks.
She felt like her heart might stop from sadness if Bucky was to cry right now.
“I’m really sorry. I’m really really sorry, doll.” Bucky’s eyes were sincere, holding so much emotion in them that she felt her own begin to fill up with tears.
“Daddy, you don’t need to apologize no more,” she whispered, doing her best to hold back tears.
“You have made me the luckiest man on earth by accepting me as your caregiver, your daddy, and you’ve taught me so much, doll.” Bucky actually started crying, a lot of held-inside feelings coming out at once.
“Daddy.” Her thumb wiped under his eyes gently as she felt her own tears roll down, “don’t say stuff like that”.
“But I need to. Because you did. You taught me unconditional love and acceptance. You taught me what it means to live again. Doll, your patience with my terribleness has taught me that maybe I’m not a hopeless case after all, and that this shell of a man with a metal arm might be capable of things he thought have been wiped from his memory long ago.”
“Daddy, please stop crying,” she sobbed, pressing her forehead to his chin as her attempts at wiping his tears away have proven to be futile.
“I love you so much, doll. I love you with every old bit of me and if you’ll have me…”
“Daddy?” she raised her head, eyes on Bucky’s face, trying to read his expression.
Could Bucky really be asking what she thought he was asking?
“Doll, I want you to be my baby for more than just a few days. Would you give me that honor? Would you let me be your daddy for real?”
“Daddy, are you sure?” she nervously bit her lip.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything more.” Bucky promised.
She nodded frantically, afraid the offer might disappear if she took too long to respond, “yes.”
“Thank you, doll.” Bucky breathed as he pulled her to him, strong arms engulfing her in a protective hug.
“Daddy will not regret it later?” her eyes watched him, a small hint of doubt still tainting her trust.
“Do you like the moon, doll?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head, not understanding the relation between her question and Bucky’s answer.
“You know how our sky only has one moon?”
She nodded.
“My heart is just like that. It can only have one doll no matter how much time passes.”
“Oh.” She sniffled, trying to hold the tears in.
“I love you, doll.” Bucky gave her hair a long kiss.
“I love you, daddy.” She kissed his chest, her arms tightening their hold around him as best as she could, never wanting to be away from him again.
And she wasn’t going to be. Bucky was an idiot who let her go once; never again was he going to make that mistake.
He was blessed with her now and he was going to spend every day of his life proving he was worthy of this blessing.
~
Tag list:
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erwinsvow · 7 hours
Text
𝐫𝐜 - 𝟐:𝟏𝟏𝐩𝐦
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you slept at tannyhill every night now.
it was commonplace to see you making breakfast in the kitchen, by the pool with sarah or inside watching some silly movie with wheezie. that was only sometimes though, since all your time was usually spent with rafe.
he liked having you around at tannyhill all the time—he thought it was cute. you wait for him to get back like a little housewife, looking pretty and pampered and tan, like he wants.
he doesn’t like waking you up early when he’s leaving for the day. you used to set your alarm to get up and drink coffee with him but he’s started turning it off—you don’t have any reason to be up that early.
sweet and always compliant, you do as he says, sleeping in. rafe presses a kiss to your forehead in the morning before he leaves, day filled with meetings and business things that he doesn’t always tell you about in detail. you just know that he’s gone.
“stoppin’ by barry’s and then the club with kelce. we’re playing golf with-” you listen to rafe while he puts on his watch and his rings, but you drift off half way through. you feel the warm press of his lips on your skin and the sound of him saying goodbye.
you’re not sure when it happened—you used to get up early and get ready for the day, filling your summer days with friends at the beach and your books by the pool and never going more than an hour alone. but now that you’re with rafe, it’s so easy to sit around and wait for him. you don’t even want to see anyone, you just want the hours to pass until he’s back.
maybe it’s not healthy. you don’t really care much even if it’s not.
you fall back asleep, and wake up when the sun is pouring in between rafe’s dark curtains. you stretch and debate going downstairs to eat something, but after brushing your teeth you crawl back into rafe’s bed. the sheets smell like him and you stare awfully long at the pillow he sleeps on. shifting the pillow to lay on it, you fall back asleep, not waking up until you hear the door to his room open.
rubbing your eyes, you glance up, hoping it’s not ward looking for him since you’re just in one of rafe’s shirts and nothing else, but the shape in front of you gets closer and clearer.
“what’s this? been in bed all day, kid?” you yawn again.
“what time is it?” you question, laying back down against rafe’s pillow.
“two in the afternoon.” he comes and sits by the edge, stroking your hair while you melt into his touch. “got any plans to get up today?” you shake your head.
“your bed’s comfy. and it smells like you.”
“that’s cute, kid. gotta get up eventually.”
“you’ll have to make me.”
“that can be arranged.” you giggle, lifting yourself up to give rafe a hug, head resting on his shoulder. "but i like you like this. don't have to lift a finger, do'ya?"
“no," you agree, nodding your head. maybe you could get used to this. "missed you.”
“i’m back now. nothin’ to miss.”
“i still do.” rafe presses another kiss to your forehead, and you nestle in further. “i could fall asleep like this.”
“yeah, no.” in one motion he scoops you up, placing you on your feet. you yelp in surprise, fighting against his grip.
"i'm still tired! i thought you wanted to spoil me, this isn't spo-"
“shut up. c’mon, we’re gonna go shower.” that shuts you up right away. 
“okay,” you sing sweetly, suddenly compliant. 
“yeah, i knew you'd get out of bed for some dick. little freak.”
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literaila · 1 day
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hi hello 😓
Have you ever thought about writing a scene where reader and gojo were kissing and megumi and tsumiki saw 🙊
right after kitchen scene, you know the kids were creeping down to your room together—just to check, alright? did gojo come home? did you make up? are they going to have to go live with nanami?
but, to both their surprise, no one is there. your room is empty, bedsheets thrown across the mattress.
so, okay. they close the door, going down to gojo’s room to check. but it’s the same, socks thrown across the floor, a collection of mugs on the bedside table.
“maybe they’re already up?” tsumiki whispers even though there’s no one sleeping.
megumi shrugs but makes his way down the hall, peeking around the corner like someone is going to scold him if he’s caught.
still, there’s no one in the living room. his shoulders slouch and tsumiki looks over him, her hair getting in his eyes.
“do you think they went somewhere?”
megumi gives her a look.
“what if gojo got hurt and mom had to go to the hospital or something?”
“and leave us here?”
“maybe she got kidnapped…”
megumi rolls his eyes, clearing his throat. still, there’s a couple of rooms left to check. he continues to walk through the house, clearly less concerned than tsumiki,
it is a bit weird though. especially because you were upset last night, and put them both to bed with a storm in your eyes.
whatever.
megumi walks through the kitchen door and his life is immediately ruined.
you’re standing against the counter, head tilted up as gojo mauls your face, your hands in his hair, his on your waist—
for maybe the first time in his life, he gasps, and steps back, into taumiki, before hurrying to turn around and keep her from whatever that is—
“oh, hey guys,” you say, awkwardly, coughing. megumi didn’t get to see you push gojo away, but he’s rubbing his arm and frowning when the boy turns back around.
megumi just stares.
tsumiki peeks over his shoulder. “what are you doing?”
gojo coughs, fixing his hair. it does nothing to help. “just talking, miki.” his smile is morose.
megumi just can’t look away. why did he have to walk in first? why did gojo have to abduct him? why did he have to be born in the first place?
“what?” tsumiki asks him, going to stand by his side. “what’s wrong?”
but megumi doesn’t answer.
“he’s probably just sleep walking,” gojo says, walking over to tsumiki so he can kiss her cheek very loudly and ruffle megumi’s hair.
he pushes the man as far away from him as possible. and to everyone’s surprise, gojo doesn’t even whine about it.
you clear your throat again, stepping away from the counter. megumi can’t even look at you right now.
“did you guys brush your teeth yet?” you ask, voice completely wrong.
“no,” megumi answers, so quickly its not even a word, and then he turns around and practically runs out of the kitchen, grabbing tsumiki’s arm so he can drag her along.
but he can’t make it far enough before there’s a hiss from behind him—
“you didn’t feel them coming?”
“i was a little bit distracted, you know, and—“
oh god. now megumi’s going to have to watch his parents kiss too.
is living with nanami still an option?
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evilpinemarten · 2 days
Text
⸻ morning daze
✦ tara carpenter x gn!reader
✦ summary. it's a school morning for you and tara. when you wake up next to her you find her hair a mess and her mood for the day is "i love you. fuck school."
✦ word count. 836
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Tara was notorious for having bedhead in the morning. This was obvious though due to her hair always getting messed up even when awake; whether it be running from Ghostface, changing clothes, or simply going downstairs to get the mail, she always found a way to ruffle her hair despite not even touching it. It was one of your favorite things about her. 
But the mornings when she had been sleeping hard were your favorite times. 
The soft skin of her face possessed the indentations of her pillow, while her cheeks held a glowing rouge that expressed the warmth shared between the two of you during the hours of darkness. Her small body was curled up in the blankets as she remained close to you, but she could never fool you with her serenity. She moved in her sleep, and she moved a lot; blame it on her dreams or her body’s comfortability level, she was always stirring. She talked in her sleep too, murmuring through sleepy moans and calling out objections, pleasured expressions, or your name. No matter what it was, you would move towards her, pull the covers up, and nestle yourself into her; shushing her whimpers, pressing kisses to her head, and making sure she could feel your presence. And most of the time, it worked. 
But this morning, she was peaceful and weighed down by sleep, which brought out her dependent nature to compliment. 
“Good morning, my love,” you whispered, brushing Tara’s disheveled bangs from her face.
She smiled back, her eyelids heavy and her breathing soft aside from the drowsy sigh she gave to sink further into her pillow. 
You giggled and kissed her now bare forehead before letting go of her locks, which allowed her messy hair to fall back into place. “Did you sleep well?”
“Mm-hm…” Tara shuffled closer to you and nuzzled her face into the crook of your neck. 
“I can tell.” You traced the red marks that were revealed when the blankets slipped off Tara’s shoulders, “And your dreams?”
Tara hummed, drifting in and out of consciousness as she embraced the love embedded in your contact. She could hardly muster enough strength to reply, but she forced herself into one as she pressed her lips into your neck. “Dreamed of you…”
You smiled as you breathed in her scent, “All good I hope?”
She nodded, wrapping her arm around you to settle into another slumber. She forgot it was a school morning. 
You both had class, and by your grace, you had given her an extra thirty to forty-five minutes of sleep, while you simply spent that time taking in your girlfriend, your sleeping beauty, your Tara Carpenter. “We have to get up, Tara… We have class, remember?”
Tara just whined and held onto you tighter, pressing her body into yours and flinging her top leg over yours to lock you in. “I don’t wanna go…”
Her voice was muffled, having you chuckle, “Huh?”
“I wanna stay in bed with you…,” she kept her position but lifted her head slightly, “Fuck school…”
You laughed and propped yourself up on your forearm, forcing Tara to come up with you. “Look at me.”
She obeyed; her sleepy eyes longing for you as her lower lip puckered out in hopes you would succumb and stay in bed with her. But as much as you wanted to, you knew how strict your professor was on absences, so you had to reluctantly push your desires aside and suffice the both of you with an apologetic but loving kiss on the lips. 
Tara took you eagerly, keeping you a few more moments than you intended, but of course, you didn’t mind. It was the most you could do for her right now after all.
“You know I have to go…”
“I know,” Tara mumbled, leaning into you for a proper morning hug with her arms secured around your waist.
You gave her a few playful nuzzles to make her giggle before sitting back and running your fingers through her tangled hair. “Now, come on. You’re not going to class with your hair like this.”
“Why not?” Tara complained in a small tantrum, watching you slip off the bed and round the corner to pick her up, which she happily accepted despite the pout still present on her face. “You said you liked it…”
“I do!” You brought her to the bathroom where you sat her on the commode to fetch a comb and gently brush through her locks before whispering, “But I like it more when we can stay in bed all morning.”
Tara gave a huff of disappointment before turning back to gaze at you with puppy-dog eyes. “I need another kiss then. You know, to make up for that.”
And with a scoff of amusement, you kissed her.
“We’re staying in bed tomorrow, Y/n.” She smirked when she pulled away to let you resume your grooming. “I’m serious.”
And in turn, you laughed. “We’ll do whatever you want, my love.”
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cursedhaglette · 2 days
Text
Birdsong
“We didn’t have to - I mean,” you try to find the right words, the ones that would make him stay with you for the evening. “You don’t have to go.”
“I was trying to be polite, innocent little bird,” he raises an eyebrow in surprise, studying you again. You sit up, leaning back on your hands as you ignore the urge to correct your sleepshirt, well aware that one breast is nearly exposed from how it now hangs. “But look at you, such a pretty mess.”
“I want you,” you hear yourself say, shocked at the bold admission. You’ve been holding back the truth of how badly you want him, but with the way his body reacted to yours, maybe it isn’t as big a long shot as you’d been telling yourself… “I’ve wanted you for a long time. I want you to stay.”
----
The first time you let Astarion bite your neck, and you're surprised to find just how badly it makes you want him.
Rating: E Word Count: 2,600 Content: 18+, smut, afab reader, cunnilingus, oral sex, PiV, creampie, breeding kink if you look really hard, vampire bites,
[ao3 link]
You open your eyes, sensing something off even in your deep, dreamless sleep, and are greeted by teeth - a mouth open wide and ready to devour. 
“Shit,” is all he can say as he sits back on his heels, fidgeting nervously as you sit up and pull away - some latent instinct that you need to distance yourself for safety kicking in even though you know Astarion and what he needs. 
“I’m sorry, I - I only need a little blood,” he says, moving away from you and extending his hands in front of him. A gesture of peace, of safety. You don’t stand, but move to a kneeling position before him, well aware that your expression is likely one of fear and confusion. 
You’d agreed after his first feeding that you’d help when you could, signaling him after a long day if you were available for him that evening. His feedings are easy now, the process so quick and painless, you rarely wake up when his teeth meet your wrist in the dead of night. 
“I suppose I can help you with that,” you whisper, your voice still thick from sleep. “Um…how would you like me?”
“All over camp, love,” he smirks, and his smile only grows when he spies the quick blush that heats your cheeks at the words. 
“Ha ha,” is all you manage to say, and you roll your eyes playfully.
“Since you’re awake, I’ve been hoping to try at your neck one of these lovely nights together” his eyebrows knotting together as he moves to kneel next to you. “If that’s alright with you, my sweet, little bird.”
He’d been feeding from your wrist for the last tenday, working hard to master his control when feeding, especially since your blood is the best he gets compared to all the animals and goblins the wilderness provides. You’d limited him to that, trusting he’d keep his word if he fed from you while you slept, but he’d behaved himself - proven he could control his hunger. 
“I didn’t mean to wake you, darling, but I am happy to take from your wrist again. I simply wanted to avoid the risk of scarring from repeated feedings. We need to keep you pretty, don’t we?”
“Hmm,” you consider, pinching your lips together and trying not to look too bashful. The thought of his lips on your neck… “I suppose my neck is fine.”
You tried not to cringe as your voice came out in a soft squeak, laying back quickly to hide your embarrassment. 
“Are you quite sure you’re comfortable with this?”
“You promise not to kill me?” Again, you try to joke, but your voice falters and only sounds tired instead.
“Feel free to push me off if you start to feel faint, you know the drill, pet,” he says softly, positioning himself over you. He smells of familiar herbs, rosemary and bergamot, and something dark but sweet as well. The feeling of his body hovering above yours, while he scoops his hand under your head so tenderly, starts an ache in your core that is wholly new. You want him to rest fully against you, to run his hands through your hair, and the thoughts make you close your eyes in hesitation. 
Before you can second guess yourself and this choice, he bites down, and icy pain draws a gasp from your lips as you try to adjust to the sensation. It’s more unpleasant than your wrist, to be sure, but under this pain is a different sensation - brought on by the feeling of his tongue lapping at your neck, suckling at your lifeblood with combined tenderness and desperation. 
You don’t expect it to light a fire in your belly, your breath hitching as his body draws closer over yours. It’s only been a second, but it feels like your whole body rewrites what you know as normal as he drinks from you. 
A quiet moan escapes your lips at the feeling of him sinking onto you, a distinct hardness pressing into the gap between your thighs as he writhes against you. You’re more than familiar with how the sudden rush of energy and blood usually arouses all parts of him, but feeling it against you, against your heat, is entirely new. He whimpers in turn, his hips rolling into yours, and then you can hear his voice echoing through your mind. 
“Are you still alright, sweet bird?” He asks through your shared tadpole connection, and all you can do was whimper in delight at the pet name and the purr of his voice caressing your thoughts. 
The world feels fuzzy and warm as he drinks, like you indulged in too much wine before bed, and after what feels like not enough time at all, he pulls himself off. Or rather, he pulls away from your neck, but his body remains against yours, hard and panting. 
You meet his ruby eyes, both of your expressions hazy and wild. He rubs the mess of red away with the back of one hand, keeping himself above you while resting on the forearm of the other. Some part of you is sad to see the red go, to see that sight of you on him swept away. 
“Darling? Are you alright?” His question is little more than a whisper against your lips, he hovers so close. You could feel his cold hands softly twist in your hair, as if to bring your focus back to him, back to your body, as you reorient from the bloodloss.
“I’m fine,” but your eyes don’t leave his, even as they grow hazy with sleep and bloodloss, your body suddenly desperate for rest. But without thinking, you reach up - tangling your hands in his mess of silver hair - and tug him down into a kiss. 
It’s slow at first, surprise causing him to tense for just a moment, and then he opens for you. His mouth crashing upon yours, the hardness between his legs digging into you as you fumble for more of each other, tongues dancing. The sluggish hum in your bones that’s familiar after his feedings seems to heighten the sensations of pleasure that course through you, your hands quickly moving to his sides, his back, his neck.
Before you might beg for more, he pauses and pulls away, scanning your eyes as he does.
Astarion sits up, and your body goes cold as he does - despite the fire just outside and the blankets that you were tangled in. “I’m sorry - I didn’t expect, well, to enjoy that quite so thoroughly.” He gestured with one hand to his body as he moved to stand, and your eyes fell to the obvious erection in his pants. “You were absolutely delicious.”
There are no words for what you see, the want that you feel crest within you like a tidal wave at the sight of him - of how he wants you. And you’d never seen someone so hard before…Gods…you’re speechless at the sight. 
You pinch your lips into a fine line but can’t stop the smile that you know comes upon your face as you look back up to his, meeting his eyes as he winks. Your face is hot, your body feels hot - you feel unhinged by the overwhelming desire that aches for him.
“We didn’t have to - I mean,” you try to find the right words, the ones that would make him stay with you for the evening. “You don’t have to go.”
“I was trying to be polite, innocent little bird,” he raises an eyebrow in surprise, studying you again. You sit up, leaning back on your hands as you ignore the urge to correct your sleepshirt, well aware that one breast is nearly exposed from how it now hangs. “But look at you, such a pretty mess.”
“I want you,” you hear yourself say, shocked at the bold admission. You’ve been holding back the truth of how badly you want him, but with the way his body reacted to yours, maybe it isn’t as big a long shot as you’d been telling yourself… “I’ve wanted you for a long time. I want you to stay.”
“Oh you wicked little thing,” Astarion grins, “I noticed how you pant and writhe when I’m lost in your blood. But I had no idea how desperately you desired me.”
“Well, then stay. Stay and fuck me, Astarion.”
“I do love a woman who knows what she wants,” and with a swift, fluid motion, he tugs his shirt over his shoulders and his perfect chest is bared for you. You smile and lean back, tugging him against you as you do - propriety be damned. 
His mouth meets yours again in another chaotic, crashing kiss that tears a moan from you as his fingers go to the buttons of your sleepshirt. It falls from your shoulders and goosebumps dance up your arms at the contact of his cold skin on yours and the way your arousal grows more insistent with every swipe of his tongue against yours. 
He pulls back, scanning your face for just a moment, and you can’t help the mewling “Please” that escapes your lips, desperation evident in every word. You need more of him, and after waiting for weeks, you’re ready for him to give you everything. 
Astarion gives a wicked grin at the sound of your begging, but his mouth only moves low enough to take a single nipple in his mouth. He rolls his tongue around the hardened peak, before latching around it and sucking deeply. 
He shimmies your panties down with his next movement and holds up your hips, sliding his tongue up the length of your sex while one arm keeps your legs above him. You can’t help but groan at the delicious feeling of his mouth finally meeting your waiting, swollen bud, and quickly have to rest your legs on his shoulders to keep from bucking wildly at the intensity of the pleasure he offers you. 
And Gods, but he devours you, lewd noises filling your small excuse for a tent as his tongue laps at your soaking cunt. The pleasure behind your eyes burns white hot as he slips his tongue inside you, his nose against your clit moving in time with each shallow thrust. He groans with each pulsing clench of your body around him and your hands tangle in the blanket below you as you grasp for anything that might ground you in this moment.
Before you get too close to your peak, he briefly sets your hips down and moves to slip his cock out of his pants. He palms his length with one hand, hissing as he tightly pumps himself, and then slips the other back inside you. Astarion moves low, adjusting his body in a single smooth movement and then he’s before you once more, licking up until he pulls your pulsing, waiting clit into his mouth and sucking. Massaging your inner walls while he holds your pleasure between his lips and rolls his tongue until you’re bucking against his mouth. 
You go over the edge, dissolving into waves of pleasure with his name crashing from your lips in a keening moan and feel the way his mouth turns up into a smile as you clench around his fingers, but his mouth stays in place until your body stills around him. 
“You taste so sweet when you cum,” He moves up to kiss you and you sigh against his lips.
“Hells,” you breathe when he pulls away, trying to catch your breath as the hum of release dances through your body, but Astarion has no interest in letting you rest. 
“Now, let’s go for one more,” he starts, lining his cock up with your entrance and then sliding it against your slit, wetting his length with your arousal. He presses into you a moment later and you gasp at the sensation, at the way he stretches you to fit all of him, and his next words are enough to nearly shatter you again. 
“This time, I want you to come around my cock, my sweet, little bird.”
He doesn’t wait another moment before withdrawing then burying himself to the hilt, his moan echoing your gasp at how full you feel once he’s inside you. His rhythm is so desperate and  slow and deep that you’re quickly lost in every punishing hit of his body meeting yours. 
You can’t muffle your pleading moans as you beg for more of him, for the pleasure he offers and he shifts, putting one leg on his shoulder once more so he can take you even deeper. He’s bent over you and staring into your eyes as he ruts, smiling and purring as he watches you come closer and closer to breaking. 
“Yes, that’s…so good,” he groans, “...doing so good for me little bird.”
His nickname for you, in this context, feels like lightning dancing through your skin and igniting in that aching place where your bodies meet. He kisses you deeply, moans exchanged in the space where your tongues dance, and then he pulls away quickly, his voice gruff as he demands, “Turn over, sweet thing.”
You do as you're told, flipping onto your stomach, and before you might shift to be on hands and knees, you feel his strong hands kneading the muscle of your ass, his cock lining up with your entrance once more. Astarion angles your hips up for him and slides back inside with a delicious, deep groan
“Wanna feel you - uhnnn, Gods, bird - come around my cock,” he moans, his rhythm growing erratic as you both approach the peak for your pleasure together. “Be a good girl for me, be - please - fuck, you feel so good -”
With deep push inside you, his cock finds a spot that has your eyes rolling back and your body soaking him in your arousal, his praise continuing until you do as he asks again. He brings you closer and closer to the edge with every perfect stroke, his hips meeting your ass and balls hitting your clit with every punishing thrust.
Your climax crashes through you this time, pulsing and clenching and begging for more and more of him. You see white and stars as you pant and cry through 
“Fill me,” you beg, finding your voice as the aftershocks of your orgasm leave your cunt fluttering around him. He fucks into you with absolute abandon now, desperate for his own release. “Please Astarion, come for me. I want to feel you fill me, please, please -”
“Gods above - fuck - oh, oh, fuck - ” he groans and slows as he spends himself within you, continuing to roll his hips into you with every pulse of his cock emptying within you. 
When he stills with you, neither of you move for a moment as you catch your breath. The scent of sex fills the air and you’re sure you should be bothered by how loud you were, how your companions have undoubtedly heard you both, but you don’t care. 
His cold chest presses into your back and you’re surprised when he dots cold kisses across your shoulder blade and then turns your cheek toward him, pressing a kiss there as well with a soft hum. 
“You have a lovely singing voice, my pretty bird,” he croons into the curve of your neck, continuing to pepper your neck, back and shoulders with kisses. “I hope you don’t mind, but I think I’d like an encore.”
When he moves off your back again, raising your hips til you feel his tongue licking at the spend he’s left within you, you cry a moan of delicious agony, and start to sing for him again. 
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cameronspecial · 1 day
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I saw you were looking for some angst ideas lmao
So rafe and reader are together. Loves her more than life but his addiction gets in the way of that. One night they have a fuming argument and she doesn’t talk to him for a few days. He then makes a plan for them to talk about it somewhere private at nighttime, but when she shows up he’s not there. She waits for him for a while then she gets attacked by the rafes dealers because he owes them money and she was the next bet. Rafe finds her and he’s freaking out but she won’t let him near her and she blames him. You can choose how this ending goes or if you even want to write this but this has been on my mind
You Deserve Better
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Drug Use, Swearing, Stabbing, Blood, and Death
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 2.1K
Masterlist
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The centre of Rafe’s life wasn’t always the white powder that tumbled around the little Ziploc bag that lined his pockets. His centre is supposed to snort or wheeze a little whenever she laughs, refusing to use her inhaler because she doesn’t want to embarrass him. It will stay up past her bedtime because she is in a flow with her work. His sun crosses her eyeballs whenever he presses a kiss on her nose because she knows it would make him chuckle. Y/N Y/L/N used to be his rock and now, all because of an accident, she isn’t anymore. That is something not a lot of people know. They assume his addiction started because he was a bored rich kid who had the money to spare. However, in reality, it began with a torn ACL. One wrong shift of his leg and his football career was over. At first, the oxycodone was only to manage the pain from the ACL surgery. He had the hope that he could recover the way he needed to get back on the field, but then the news came that he wasn’t progressing the way his doctor wanted… That was when the problem started, suddenly the drug he was taking to help ease his physical pain became the one to take away his mental pain too. The pain of not being able to play football. The pain of missing out. The pain of not knowing where his life was going.
Don’t get him wrong, Y/N was by his side the whole time, except a person can’t be everything to someone else and he needed a therapist. He just wasn’t ready to admit that. It was only when he stopped being prescribed oxycodone that he turned to cocaine to fill the mental hole the prescription used to be for.
———
Rafe’s blown pupils are hidden by his eyelids as he lies back on the couch. Y/N is still out with her friends, so he isn’t sleeping. Not when she is not at home. The front door opening and closing makes him jerk forward. His eyelids are just a sliver because the light from the ceiling is too bright for him. Her footsteps approach the living room and the large sigh she lets out makes her arrival known. “You didn’t do the dishes,” she states, her hand resting on her jut-out hip. “And the hole in the hallway is still there.” Yesterday, Rafe, in a high state, accidentally made a hole in the wall when trying to put up a picture frame for her. He promised her before she left for work this morning that he would get what he needed to fix it this morning and in the afternoon, he would fix it. However, before he could get himself to the store, he saw a post from one of his old football teammates, who went pro and he spiralled. 
He doesn’t mean to roll his eyes, yet it happens and this causes her to let out another huff. “I didn’t get a chance to go to the store,” he grumbles like he didn’t care. He really did though. He wanted to be able to do something that simple for the girl who meant everything to him, except his mind seemed to disagree with his heart. It is easier to pretend it doesn’t bother him. Her eyes narrow in on the residue of powder on their coffee table, “Let me guess, you got your nose caught up in some business. Rafe, you promised me you wouldn’t do that shit at home.” He can’t keep looking at the way tears start to appear because he knows how worried she gets when he does drugs, always scared he might overdose. He looks anywhere but at her. “Don’t get on my ass about this again Y/N. You don’t know what I am dealing with,” he argues.
“I don’t and that’s the problem. You need to talk to someone about how you are feeling because you are going to put yourself in an early grave if you keep doing what you are doing now.”
“Seriously, we are going to argue about this again because I didn’t do the dishes or fix a little hole in the wall.”
“No, we are going to argue about it because you aren’t the man I fell in love with anymore and I don’t think if I can do this anymore. I want to be by your side to help you get better but if you don’t want to, then I don’t know if I can be here forever.”
Her words hit his ears at the same intensity as they would if he were sitting next to an airplane engine. They had arguments about his sobriety so many times before, yet those fights always had the underlying understanding that she would be there to help him. She never once mentioned the possibility of her leaving him because she truly did want to help him find his sobriety. His mouth falls open to talk. No words come out. How can he possibly swear that he wants to get better when he isn’t at the self-realization point in his journey? She takes the silence as an admittance that getting clean isn’t on his mind. “I need some time apart. I’m going to sleep at Deliah’s place tonight,” she informs, turning to leave. He doesn’t stop her; he wants to give her the space she needs in hopes that she realizes she can hold on for a little bit longer. The only word he can respond with is “Okay”, right before she closes the door behind her. 
———
She hasn’t answered any of his texts and calls. Her night of taking some space turned into a week and it is driving him crazy. Her non-existence return may have to do with his unwillingness to agree to go to a therapist. After the thousandth attempt at calling her, she finally answers the call. “Normally, when a person doesn’t pick up the call, it means they don’t want to talk to you.” He lets out an internal sigh, “I know, I just need to talk to you. Please, can we meet at our spot, Sunshine?” She could never resist the usage of his nickname for her. “Okay, meet me there in an hour,” she agrees. The call drops right after her response and he gives himself a small smile. Not only does he get to see her again, he gets to try to get her back. 
———
By the time she realizes she is being followed, she is alone under the bleachers, where she and Rafe used to spend their time in high school. It was where they found themselves when they didn’t feel like going to class or they needed to get away from the chaos after his team won a game. It was the place she fell in love with him in because even before they were dating when they were just friends, it was their spot. She spins around at the sound of grass being pressed down by a set of feet, ready to scold him for being late. It isn’t Rafe as she expected; instead, an average-height man with a dangerous air that scares her. The gleam behind his eyes tells her the bald man is up to no good, which is confirmed when he pulls out the hunting knife from his hoodie pocket. She steps back in an attempt to get away from him, but her back hits against a metal beam. The man rushes toward her and presses the sharp edge against the soft skin of her neck. “Your boy owes me money and since he is taking too long to get it back to me, I thought I would hold onto something precious to him until I get what I want,” the man explains with a wicked grin. She refuses to show him fear and looks him dead in the eyes, “Rafe’s dealer is Barry so I have no idea what you are talking about.” “He stopped going to Barry because Barry started getting on his case about how much he is using,” the male growled, not enjoying the bite to her bark. She chuckles like a maniac, “When Rafe comes, he is going to beat your ass.” “Shut up, Bitch.” Angered by his words, her knees find their target between his legs. 
He lets out a howl and doubles over in pain. She uses this as her opportunity to attempt an escape, trying to run past him. Unfortunately, he reaches out to stop her and this results in the blade driving into her abdomen. A gasp passes her lips, causing the dealer to look in her direction. “Shit.” His eyes bloom open and immediately begins to pull it out. “No. Don’t pu-,” she warns, except it is too late. The weapon is already out and he is running toward the exit. She hunches forward and stumbles back against the beam, pressing her hand to her stomach to keep from bleeding out, feeling as though she has been punched. Calling 911 seems to be the logical answer; however, when she goes for her phone, she finds it broken on the floor. She thinks about going to her car and is stopped by the feeling of even more blood gushing out of the wound as she tries to push off the beam. It doesn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. 
“Sunshine,” rings through her ears. Her dizziness makes it difficult to focus on the speaker, yet she knows who it is based on the nickname. She slides down the beam because her legs lose all their strength. Rafe rushes to her side and kneels beside her. “Shit, Sunshine. It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to call the police. They are going to fix everything,” his voice breaks as his hand joins hers to stop the flow of his blood. She can hear him relaying the information to the dispatcher, but her body is telling her something Rafe isn’t going to be ready to hear. He places his phone on the floor so both of his hands can press on her abdomen. “They’re coming, Sunshine, just hold on. I promise. I’ll be here the whole time.” Her handshakes as she raises to his cheek, staining it with her blood. Her tears water at the edge of her bottom eyelid, “I don’t think I’m going to make it.” His head shakes vigorously. “Don’t say tha-.” She cuts him off, “Can you please just listen to me?” He nods to let her continue. “It was your dealer. I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. Just to make sure he gets arrested. But I need you to know that you are more than just your addiction and football. I know you don’t think so, but you are and if you just realize that, then you will see the man that I fell in love with.” “I don’t deserve that though. Look at all the shit I put you through. You deserve more than a druggie as a boyfriend,” he cries, holding her hand against his skin.
She smiles up at him, “You deserve more too. You deserve to be truly happy. You deserve to try to find a new purpose in life. I want that for you.” “How can I find all of that if you are gone?” he questions. Her breathing begins to become laboured, “You’ll find yourself and once you grieve, you’ll find someone who can help heal your broken heart. That’s how.”
“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Please, don’t go. Will you please stay if I promise to get sober?” 
“I will be with you every step of the way.”
The words tear his heart in two. He knows what it means. She truly doesn’t think she is coming out of this alive. “I want you to see me get better though. Please. Just hang on a little longer.” His tears cloud his vision. When he doesn’t hear a response, he wipes his eyes to get a closer look at her. The world goes dark at the sight of her glassy eyes only reflecting back his face with no recognition or life behind them. The rise and fall of her chest have stopped. The universe decides to answer his calls for help at a cruel moment as he hears the siren finally approach. There is no use in their hurry if the person who needs saving is the one to do it because Rafe isn’t going to let her last words die with her. He is going to get better, not only for her but for him too. He deserves more than a life of chasing his pain away with drugs and he is determined to achieve that.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura
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mattslolita · 15 hours
Text
psycho killer - c. sturniolo ( 001. )
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in which ... a killer is terrorizing the town of boston and charmaine soon realizes she's the final girl in his twisted game.
ghostface!chris x black!fem oc
warnings ; blood , gore , death , eventual smut , angst , ghostface!chris , final girl! oc
"𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆, 𝒊'𝒎 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒓𝒆!"
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰
in the comfort of charmaine's home, she sat on one of the bar stools at the end of the small kitchen table — her best friends, morgan maldonado and madison filipowicz were both with her, but occupied with separate things; morgan was on the phone with who charmaine assumed was her boyfriend ( unless she felt like cheating on him ), and madison was busy making popcorn for the film they were going to watch.
"hey char, what happened to that cheesy popcorn you always have?" madison asked, as she searched the girl's fridge, "there's like, none left."
"i'm gonna be honest madi, i ate it all," charmaine shrugged, as she scrolled through her phone.
madison shook her head, and went back to the fridge, biting down on one nail as she continued searching. charmaine looked over at morgan, who was sprawled out on her couch, twirling her dark hair around her fingers, her face painted with a rosy tint and a smirk plastered on her face. the evans girl frowned, wondering who it was that she was even talking to.
"wow, chris is making you blush that hard?" charmaine teased quietly, and morgan rolled her eyes, waving her off.
"this isn't even chris, girl," morgan whispered to her friend with an eyeroll, "he doesn't really make me blush like this anymore, anyway."
charmaine nodded, but her jaw clenched at the thought of morgan cheating on chris — christopher sturniolo was morgan's boyfriend, who also happened to be charmaine and madison's best friend, too. he had two identical brothers aside from himself, and they were both best friends with the triplet brothers. charmaine has liked chris for as long as she can remember, and it always puzzled her as to how he chose morgan over her. of course, chris never knew this, and she didn't plan on telling him — it was something bound to break up their friendship ( though charmaine knew the triplets longer ).
the smell of butter wafted through charmaine's senses, telling her that madison had put the popcorn in the microwave. the filipowicz girl came and sat down on the counter next to charmaine, a small grin settling on her face. "which horror movie are we watching tonight?"
charmaine grinned back, having always loved that she and madison loved horror movies. "oh, it's definitely a friday the 13th kinda night."
"ugh, we always watch that one," morgan whined suddenly, as she sauntered into the kitchen, her arms crossed, "can we watch the craft or something?"
"can you stop being a hoe and sleeping with every guy who gives you attention?" charmaine sneered, causing madison to snort and hold back a laugh, and morgan to give her an unimpressed look.
"you say that like it's a bad thing," morgan suddenly grinned, causing charmaine to roll her eyes and shake her head, "it's not my fault i'm sex positive!"
"whatever you wanna call yourself, morgan," madison giggled, causing charmaine to stick her tongue out at morgan playfully.
"whatever, friday the 13th is it," morgan sighed, resting her elbows on the counter, "let's play something while we wait for the food."
"what're you thinking?" charmaine questioned, setting her phone on the counter and facing her best friend.
"truth or dare."
morgan grinned, and madison and charmaine shared a knowing look. "girl, is this an excuse for you to just tell madi to make a move with that one girl already?"
madison's cheeks tinted, and she rolled her eyes. "that's not happening, by the way!"
"ugh, fine!" morgan grunted, but she sent madison a pointed look, "you don't even have to pick dare if you don't want to!"
"whatever, let's just play," charmaine said, waving both girls off, "m, truth or dare?"
morgan pretended to tap her chin in thought, then she smirked at charmaine. "dare."
"i dare you to call that one strip joint and pretend you wanna get hired there."
madison's eyes widened and morgan's jaw dropped, causing charmaine to burst out laughing. "what the actual fuck kinda dare is that?"
"it's a good one, don't lie!" madison grinned, pointing to morgan. 
"fine, whatever, i'll do it," morgan said with an eyeroll.
before she could make a move to grab the phone though, it began ringing — the three best friends exchanged a glance with each other, before morgan shrugged and moved towards it. "this doesn't count as your dare by the way!"
"it's probably just steven again," morgan grinned, as she picked up the landline, bringing it up to her ear, "hello?"
madison sat on the counter idly, and charmaine scrolled through her own phone as morgan talked to whoever it was she was talking to ( charmaine wouldn't be surprised if it was another one of her side pieces ). but from the way morgan's eyebrows furrowed, something was off.
"who is it?" charmaine mouthed her, madison raising her eyebrows expectantly.
"i don't even know," morgan mumbled, holding the phone away from her momentarily, "it's just fucking silence."
"here, let me see," madison said, hopping off the counter and going to grab the phone from morgan, "hello?"
but madison was met with silence as well, causing all three girls to share a look with each other. finally, charmaine shrugged and walked over to the phone, taking it from madison and holding it up to her ear. "hello?"
"hello? who's this?"
charmaine's eyes widened, causing morgan and madison to watch closely. "who're you tryna get to?"
"i don't know," the voice said, and charmaine felt a chill down her spine. it sounded much too deep to be normal, but something about it was highly attractive.
"well, you better figure it out," charmaine said, "bye have a good night."
"wait, don't hang up!" the voice said, and for some reason, charmaine's eyebrows rose and she didn't, "i wanna talk to you."
"yeah, they got like, five hundred numbers for shit like that," charmaine said, shaking her head, "see ya."
charmaine hung the phone before they had a chance to reply again, and both girls looked at her curiously. "so who was it?"
"i don't even know, some weirdo saying they wanted to talk to me," charmaine shrugged, and morgan grinned at the girl.
"well it's about time somebody wants to talk to you," morgan snickered, "you need to get a man."
"morgan, shut the fuck up," madison said, crinkling her nose and slapping the girl's shoulder, "she doesn't need to get anyone. just because you fucked half the school behind chris's back, doesn't mean everyone wants to do that same thing."
morgan's jaw dropped at what madison had said — truth was, morgan was always knocking charmaine for not wanting to just get with anybody randomly. she would take a dig at her about that stuff around charmaine and all her other friends too, which really upset her, being that she was supposed to be her best friend; charmaine guessed madison just finally got tired of it.
"wow, madi, didn't know you had the capability of being mean to anyone," morgan mumbled, and charmaine snorted.
"talking about everybody all the time just pisses me off," madison shrugged, turning to give charmaine a smile, "especially when it's about my girl."
before charmaine could respond to madi, the phone rang again, much to to her disappointment. with a groan, charmaine picked up the phone once again. "hello?"
"looks like i called the wrong number again," the voice said, and this time, charmaine rolled her eyes amusedly.
"yeah, i guess you did," charmaine sighed, sitting on the counter, "why did you redial it again?"
"to hear that pretty voice," he purred, and charmaine felt her cheeks get warm.
a small smile graced her features as she began swinging her feet back and forth. madison was now in the living room on her phone, and morgan; well, she was somewhere in the house. 
"huh," charmaine said, looking around.
"what's your name?"
charmaine chuckled, holding the phone away from her and looking at it in disbelief. "no way you just asked me that, dude."
"what's wrong with asking your name, pretty girl?" he asked, and for a split second, charmaine's eyebrows furrowed — she felt like she somewhat recognized the voice.
"first of all, i've seen too many horror movies to be telling you my name like that," charmaine said, as the microwave went off, signaling the popcorn was finished, "second, why do you wanna know my name?"
"cause i wanna know who i'm looking at," he said lowly, causing charmaine to immediately jump off the counter.
"what did you just say?" she asked nervously, looking around, seeing madison still sitting on the couch. morgan was still nowhere to be found.
"i said i want to know who i'm talking to," he said humorously, causing charmaine's eyebrows to furrow once again.
"yeah, nice try, that's not what you said," charmaine said seriously, beginning to grow annoyed, "look, find someone else to be all creepy with, i'm done here. bye."
"hang on-"
"it was funny at first, but you took it too far!" charmaine said.
"don't you-!"
before he could get another word out of his mouth, charmaine clicked the line off and set the phone back on its hook with a loud sigh. madison's head snapped up, and she looked up to see charmaine with her hands on her hips.
"everything okay, char?" madison asked, making her way over to the girl, "did they ever tell you who they were?"
"no, just some asshole being creepy as fuck," charmaine admitted, rubbing her temples with both her hands. "i swear-"
the phone rang, yet again.
💌 lil
i giggled when i first wrote this ngl. lmk how y'all like it so far😏.
@muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @guccifrog @prettiest-poision @mrssturnioloo @mattsivy @mattsturniolosleftnut @e1ias3 @eyeliketoeatpoosay @breeloveschris @mayhem-72 @l0akkz @summerssover
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kechiwrites · 2 days
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toxic baby daddy!ghost x reader
part 7/8
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synopsis: two weeks into your uneasy truce, simon gets introspective.
wc: 811
cw: afab!reader, angst, banter that becomes arguing, hurt and the tiniest bit of comfort, language, trust issues, simon's pov, no gendered language. no use of y/n ever.
author’s note: well, we back at it, the second last installment of this verse. i'll still take requests/thots for it of course, but soon we'll get closure for these two. for now, simon's thoughts on their situation.
new to baby blue? start here.
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It’s disarming. 
And Simon Riley doesn’t like being disarmed. He doesn’t like being caught off guard, off kilter, unstable. 
It’s been happening more and more often though.
When you and Tommy look at him in perfect unison, he is struck stupid by your eyes, like you copy and pasted them onto your son. His son. His kid. His perfect, funny kid. Unmuddied by everything bad in the world. His life is pancakes and dinosaurs and that horrible fucking tv show that he’s sure rots his little mind. His life is you. Your smiles, your laugh, your cooking, your hugs. Things Simon cheated himself of when he walked out on you, choked with fear and bleeding misery.
Simon is disarmed, totally fucking helpless, a veritable babe in the woods when you let him hold you. When for the first time, in a long ass time, he gets to watch your lids flutter closed and slip into unconsciousness, in that quick, carefree way he’s always envied. 
He barely sleeps, even less so lately. 
After all, no sleeping meant no nightmares. No cloying, choking smoke-like fears reaching for the frayed edges of his subconscious. No sleeping meant he couldn’t play on your kindness, your goodness, and guilt you into holding him back when he woke up screaming, sweating, no matter how bad he wanted it.
It’s two weeks later. Two weeks after sleeping together but not sleeping together. After breakfast and an uneasy truce. Two weeks after kissing you and touching you and holding you like you both had all the time in the world. 
You’re not in a good mood. And he knows that. But he pushes you anyway, pokes and prods you even as you slam through your kitchen, noisily pulling out a pot and a huge bag of pasta shells.
“Let’s talk.” He approaches, arms crossed, full kit traded in for a skull emblazoned cloth mask, jeans and a threadbare black t-shirt, one he’d found in your bedroom days ago, stashed in the back your drawer, crumpled in a wrinkled ball, like you didn’t want to see it, but you didn’t want to trash it either. He’s been doing that lately, staying over for days and rifling through your shit, finding old relics and artifacts from a time neither of you can let go of. An old mask, a hat, t-shirts.
So many goddamn t-shirts.
“Talk?” you snort derisively, filling the pot with water. He watches you test the water with your fingertips and curse under your breath, mumbling something about shit pipes. When the pot is full, you turn to face him, lips curled, sneering. “I wasn’t aware you were capable of that. Thought you just communicated in grunts.”
“You’re funny. That's new.” He jabs, advancing in the conversation much faster than he should have, comforted in familiar territory, finding solace in what used to be commonplace for you, banter, barbs, teasing. The tense set of your shoulders should’ve warned him off it, should’ve told him you’d take it as well as a bullet in the back. But God help him, he’ll take whatever you give.
“Mm.” Your tone is casual but your answering nod is jerky, too fast, “Yeah, I developed a sense of humour when I realized our relationship had been a joke.” You slam the pot onto a burner, giving him your back. 
The air is suddenly devoid of mirth, utterly obliterated where it had been floating between you before. Now the living room and kitchen are a smoking crater, an oil rig on fire, a disaster site. 
He’s never been more grateful for his son’s propensity to nap like he’s dead.
Neither of you say anything. Simon is waiting for you to say something, to dress him down, but when you lower your head and sigh, heavy and deep with pain and exhaustion he planted within you, Simon withers. He slinks back to the living room and drops himself onto your couch. 
You wait, he’s not sure what for. He used to be so good at preempting your actions, your thoughts, your words, now he handles you like you’re a venomous reptile, looking for exposed, vulnerable flesh to strike, to bite.
You set down the glass you’d been drinking from hard. And he’s surprised you didn’t crack it.
“What do you want, Simon?” Question of the goddamn century, it is. And you’ve asked it of him plenty of times. But he never has an answer, can never really deduce just what the fuck he’s doing here, with you. With Tommy. Playing a game? Playing a role? Punishing you? Himself? All of it could be true, but none of it seems right. 
“I want to try.”
All he knows is that before this, four years seemed like a short time, nothing really. But now?
It’s an eternity. Reflected back to him in broken glass, in half full drawers, in his son’s eyes. 
In yours.
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comments + tags + reblogs are so appreciated
oh simon...what do you want?
series masterlist here
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