#what the fuck. why would you lock an empty drawer.

[obstinaterixatrix]

ok I love the payoff of this bl webtoon actually. the mc is a police detective guy and the li is someone he knew when the li was a kid and they ended up reuniting after about a decade or whatever, the entire time the comic’s been framing the li as *~mysterious~* and *~up to something~* and involved with recent gang activity and after 20+ chapters, on the li’s side of things, he’s sneaking into somewhere and getting a usb and the entire time he’s like. shit shit shit I’m so bad at this. people from the gang find & chase him and he jumps down from like the second floor onto a pile of trash bags (still dangerous, man, you never know what people put in those) and is running on a sprained ankle and he’s like WHY IS THE OTHER GUY FINE…

#orlbs #misclb #I do love when seemingly competent people are actually anxious and freaking out #the chapter opens up with the li picking a lock for a drawer and it’s empty #and he’s like #what the fuck. why would you lock an empty drawer. #instant flood of charm points

[k4g3hika]

WHO THE HELL?! ━ imagine!

eddie munson x fem! reader

summary: when eddie munson doesn't find the need to tell the dungeons and dragons club members about his new girlfriend. so imagine dustin's surprise when he visits eddie's trailer and sees it looking impeccably clean.

wc: 956

hi guys! forgot to mention i kind of wrote a part 2 to this so: “love, y/n:)”

“Okay, Eddie! I hear you! So it’s just in your living room? On the table beside the sofa? Okay!” Dustin stops his bike beside the Munson trailer, dropping it down onto the dirt as he rushes to the door. “Wait- how the hell am I supposed to get inside?!”

“Did I not give you my keys?”

“No!”

“Damn!”

“Wait! I see someone inside! I’m just gonna knock on the door till they answer. Talk to you later, over and out!” Amidst Eddie’s protests, Dustin turns off the walkie-talkie and strides over to the door. He secretly hopes to himself that it’s not Eddie’s uncle. But shit, who else is going to be in the Munson residence if it wasn’t Eddie or his scary-looking uncle?

He breathes in and out, raising his fist to knock on the door. However, right after his fists land on the door, it falls open as if it wasn’t locked in the first place. 

‘Red flag. Red flag.’ Dustin knew better than to go into a complete stranger’s house. But, this was Eddie’s trailer. The worst thing that can happen is that he can stumble on some disgusting shit, or God bless him, his uncle holding a knife to his chest ready to pop off and kill him. ‘God, please guide me.’

As he walked inside, it seemed empty. There was absolutely no sign of life, but something did scare the living shit out of Dustin. 

The Munson trailer was clean. Clean as fuck. 

Dustin only knew Eddie from the beginning of the school year. But, regardless of the short time, Dustin knew that Eddie hardly took care of himself and would rather focus on anything else other than cleanliness. Shit, he remembers that one time he went inside Eddie’s room and it was laundry day. The stains on that mattress were traumatizing. 

After going through a state of shock, Dustin remembered the reason why he was even in Eddie’s trailer. He began his search for the paper his leader needed, but it was far more difficult to find compared to the simplicity Eddie emphasized. Dustin cursed him under his breath, opening up every drawer on every table by the one sofa in the entire living room. 

However, Dustin was so focused on his search, that he completely went deaf to the sounds of movement behind him. 

“Hey! Who the fuck are you?!” Dustin almost fell back at the sheer terror he just felt surge through his heart. His breaths began to get erratic. Seeing a really, really pretty woman standing with only a shirt and…shorts? Or were they panties? He didn’t know. But it was fucking scary. Or hot? He didn’t know. “Hello?!? You better say who you are before I call the cops!”

“Wait! Wait! Eddie sent me here! He sent me to get something for the campaign! My name is Dustin! Dustin Henderson!” Dustin raised his hands up in defence, not seeing the woman’s shoulders deflate in relief. She chuckles, prompting Dustin to lower his hands. “W-Wha-”

“God, I’m sorry. Did I forget to lock the door again? Shit. I’m gonna get myself killed one day. Anyway, the paper he forgot is actually on the kitchen counter. I put it there figuring out he was gonna come back.” She walks past him. 

‘Oh jeeze.’ Dustin tries not to look at them, only looking forward to where the paper was. 

“Here you go, sorry about earlier. I just got scared is all. Did he drive you here?”

“No…I biked here.” He blinks twice at you, becoming nervous at your gaze staring him down. 

“Oh my god! Really? Do you want some water? What about a cookie? Oh wait! I baked some cookies earlier, I was really bored. Can you bring some to the DnD club, please? Eds loves them…” As you ramble on about cookies and water, Dustin can’t help but gaze at your beautiful features. Your voice was also soothing, and shit, you look like you give the best hugs. “Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Y/N, Eddie’s girlfriend. Nice to finally meet you, Dustin!”

‘Now I know why Eddie hides you.’

–

“Fuck! Look who finally decides to turn up! Henderson, what took you so long?” Eddie walks up to Dustin, eyebrows furrowing in search of the paper he asked him to get. “Did you get the paper-”

“You son of a bitch!”

“Excuse me?”

“I should be saying ‘excuse me’! I get sent, for a paper, and y’know what I find? Hm?” Dustin looks around the room past Eddie, trying to show them validation for his anger. “The most beautiful and shit, best baker, I have ever met in my life!” After his last statement, Dustin shoves the container of cookies at his (now ex) idol’s chest. 

Eddie, though initially confused at Dustin’s anger, finally understands why when he sees your signature chocolate chip cookies. You always add M&Ms, saying that they ‘add a pop of colour’ to them. Not that he minded. He loved it. 

“I don’t get why you’re angry-”

“Bitch?! You have to show them off! Sell these cookies for God’s sakes! Bring her to meetings! Shit! Do I have to teach you how to be a good boyfriend?!?” Dustin drops his bag, groaning at Eddie’s ‘stupidity’. “Let’s get on with the game!”

Eddie looks at Dustin, then at the container in his hands. 

It wasn’t like he was hiding you. Eddie smiles to himself, propping open the lid and eating one cookie. 

Eddie just thinks that you’re his little secret. Only he gets to eat your cookies. Dustin just happened to stumble upon them. Never again though.

“Hey, Eddie, can we try some of those cookies-”

“Fuck off Gareth.”

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #joseph quinn #stranger things 4 #netflix #dustin henderson

[steddiealltheway]

Some kind of AU

Eddie tries not to slam his sweetheart into her case even though he’s pretty fucking pissed. He had just played a gig to what was supposed to be more than a couple of drunks because Brian had promised he was coming to his set tonight with a few friends. But his boyfriend had forgotten again.

The rest of the band gives Eddie his space, thank god, as he heaves an amp into Gareth’s truck and stalks off to his van - having done his part in packing up. He’ll make his round of apologizes later, but right now he wants to go to his apartment and sleep this night off.

Every traffic light in town seems to turn red as soon as he approaches it. He gets cut off by three people. And he swears the crack in his windshield is getting larger. And really this night can’t get worse.

He storms up the two flights of stairs to his apartment and sighs in relief when he gets outside of his door. He unlocks it quickly and goes inside, ready to get in bed as soon as possible.

Then, he hears it.

A moan.

Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs. Really not in the fucking mood to deal with Brian’s bullshit horny mood right now.

He stalks to the door and flings it open, ready to chew him out. But then he takes in what’s happening. Brian is on top of another man who is half naked in his own bed.

“So this is why you missed my set tonight, huh?” It’s the first thing that comes out of Eddie’s mouth.

Brian’s head snaps towards him, and he quickly climbs off the bed. “This isn’t what it seems, babe… and I thought you said your set would run late tonight.”

Eddie laughs humorlessly. He doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t process any of it. “And I thought you said you were coming tonight. Clearly, I mixed up your definition of the word.”

“Eddie…” Brian reaches out to grab his arm.

“Get out,” Eddie growls out.

Brian laughs. “You don’t mean that.”

Eddie has a good few inches over Brian that he uses to intimidate him, slowly whispering, “Get the fuck out.”

Brian stares at him for a moment in disbelief then quickly leaves the room, running towards the front door and slamming it shut.

Eddie sits on his chair and puts his head in his hands. It’s really been the worst night. There’s a huff of breath to his right.

Eddie head snaps up towards the stranger still in his bed. “What the fuck are you still doing here, man?”

The other man blushes and slowly lifts his left wrist which is handcuffed to the bed. The fucker used his handcuffs.

Eddie groans and opens his drawer to grab the key. He stares at the empty spot that the key usually occupies then he frantically digs around.

An unfamiliar voice says, “I don’t mean to make this worse for you, but I’m pretty sure he still has the key in his pocket.”

“Are you kidding me?” Eddie automatically replies.

“Man, I wish I was,” the stranger says, right hand rubbing sorely at his left wrist.

Eddie huffs, “They’re supposed to be for decoration only.” He stands up and makes his way to his tiny closet, digging out an extra wire hanger and beginning to bend it. He sits on his bed and goes through the tedious task of trying to pick the lock.

“You know how to pick a lock?” The man asks.

“No,” Eddie answers truthfully. “But I know how to hot wire a car.”

This gets the stranger to chuckle softly. Eddie looks up and really sees him for the first time. He has light brown eyes, long lashes, full lips, and really glorious hair. Eddie doesn’t know how Brian got him to go “home” with him.

“I’m Steve,” the stranger introduces himself, “Figured I should tell you my name if we’ll be here for a while.”

“I’m Eddie,” he replies. Although he’s sure Steve caught onto that before. He looks back at handcuffs, tongue resting on his top lip in concentration.

“I’m really sorry, man,” Steve rambles out. “I- I didn’t know that he was taken, you know. Especially with the way he approached me tonight all… Never mind. But really man. I had no idea. And I feel like absolute shit. I mean, the handcuffs weren’t even supposed to happen. He had gotten the key out and joked about it. But then they were suddenly on, and then you came in and… I’m so sorry.”

Eddie had stopped trying to pick the lock mid rant because Steve apparently has the habit of using his hands while he’s talking. Instead, he takes the time to look the guy in the eyes again, having the absurd thought that he wishes they had met in a different way.

Eddie shakes his head and continues picking the lock. “Thank you. I appreciate it,” Eddie says sincerely after a few moments.

The stranger runs his right hand through his hair and relaxes a bit more into Eddie’s bed. A minute goes by before Eddie notices that he’s shaking a bit. He sees the chills down his arms and quickly grabs at his blanket and pulls it around the man.

Steve takes it and whispers a quick thank you, pulling the blanket up his naked torso and around his neck. He stares off for a few moments and asks, “Is that a D&D dice set?”

Eddie’s head snaps up. He smiles widely. “You know what they are?”

“My friend, who’s kind of like a little, annoying brother, plays. I was actually thinking of buying him a new set for his birthday. Do you know where I could get them custom made? He’s been telling me about this new campaign…” Steve rambles on for a few minutes about all the things his friend - Dustin - has told him about. Steve seems terribly clueless about D&D, but it’s so obvious that he cares so much about this Dustin kid. And after a long night, this actually warms Eddie’s heart.

He continues listening to the campaign, impressed by whoever this Will kid is because he seems to have excellent dungeon master skills.

Eddie shares what type of design he thinks Dustin would like based on his character and offers to draw up a few concepts for Steve to use. Then, he rattles off a shop in town that he got his dice at which launches into Eddie explaining the reason for his set which was a gift from his uncle.

Eddie starts describing a few moments from his latest campaign and where he thinks it’s going, and he’s surprised when Steve gives him a few great ideas for the plot. As he’s going on about his most evil character created - Vecna - a clicking noise rings out.

Eddie stops mid rant, and both he and Steve look down at the cuffs. Steve slowly, almost reluctantly, pulls his wrist out and stares at the red ring around it.

Eddie grimaces and goes towards the kitchen, pulling an ice pack out of the freezer. When he comes back into the room, Steve is standing up, pulling a yellow sweater over his head.

It’s oddly endearing.

As Eddie gets closer he realizes they’re around the same height which is surprisingly comforting, being able to easily look him in the eyes.

Steve takes the ice pack and thanks Eddie again, pressing it into the slight bruise forming. He glances at the clock behind Eddie. “Shit, I have to get going or Robin’s going to kill me,” Steve says, stuffing his wallet that he left on the counter into his pocket.

Eddie’s heart drops at the mention of the name. He prays Steve isn’t like Brian, so Eddie can’t help but ask, “Robin?”

“My roommate,” Steve clarifies.

Eddie lightly sighs, oddly relieved that the stranger isn’t also cheating.

Steve stares at him for a few moments, eyes flickering between Eddie and the fridge strangely enough. He puts the ice pack on the counter and rushes behind Eddie, grabbing the dry erase marker and scribbling on the magnetic whiteboard.

Eddie stares in slight shock when Steve pulls away. “It’s my number,” Steve explains. “It’s just… I’ve also been cheated on, and it sucks. And if you needed to talk to someone about it… you can always talk to me.”

Eddie stares at Steve speechless.

“That’s weird, isn’t it?” Steve asks, eyebrows furrowed. He continues, “Yeah, that’s weird.” He doesn’t erase his number though.

He makes his way awkwardly to Eddie front door.

“Wait!” Eddie calls out, grabbing the ice pack and rushing towards Steve. He shoves it into his hand. “Take that with you, and give it back to me later. I have to draw that design for you, after all.”

Steve stares at Eddie for a moment then softly smiles. “Yeah, that’s right. You do.”

The two hesitate at the door for a few seconds, staring at each other. Steve shakes his head and opens the front door. “It was good meeting you, Eddie. I wish it could’ve been under better circumstances,” he says with a grimace.

“Yeah,” Eddie says laughing awkwardly. “Thank you for everything. I’ll call you.”

Steve smiles brightly and gently closes the door behind him.

Eddie huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He glances at the fridge, takes in the number, and begins laughing again.

What a fucking night.

(Part Two)

#so like #should I turn this into a whole fic? #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet

[wincestdailyheadcanons]

"I think it would do you both good to see each other." Jack says, taking the half empty beer from Dean's hand. 

The smile on Dean's face brightens his features up so much he looked 20 years younger. 

"I get to go be with Sam?" Dean asks. "Finally?" 

Jack shakes his head. "Not yet. It isn't your time." 

Dean scowled, grabbing the bottleback, taking a drink; "Then fuck off. Until I get to be with him again, heaven, hell, wherever, dont you talk to me. It shouldve been me in that barn, not him, and you fucking know it." 

Dean kept his body from shaking, his voice even, but he knew that despite the dim lights of the no name bar, Jack would see the pain 

in his eyes. The hurt, and loneliness in his soul that shined through the green that only Sam had ever been 

able to fill. 

"There's many worlds, Dean." Jack 

said, this time sitting across from Dean. The gesture meaning to show not only empathy, 

but equality. In this moment, he wasnt a God. He was just a guy trying to comfort one of the only fathers he knew. 

"In this world, Sam died. In another you do, in one you go on a different hunt and nothing happens." Dean looked up; "So, youre taking 

me to see a different Sam?" 

Jack nodded; "He's elderly in this world. Time is-" 

Dean held up his hand; "I don't need to hear the mumbo jumbo about time and space, just take me to him." 

Dean blinked, and found himself outside a well maintained brick house with large trees, and a well kept yard. Inside he could hear 

yelling. 

Dean rushed in, moving quickly through the house, and in the living room found a tall man with white hair, and a beard. 

"Why are you in here?!" Sam screamed at a young woman. "I want my brother!" 

"Mr Winchester, I'm your nurse, Hannah, your son asked me to he-" 

Sam grabbed a glass off and raised his hand to throw it. 

"Sammy?" 

Sam instantly responded to Dean's voice, the glass slipping from his fingers, and shattering on the floor. 

"Dean?" Sam asked, stepping forward, his bare feet moving towards the broken shards of glass. His eyes locked with Dean's. Dean and the nurse moved to stop him. 

Dean pushed Sam back onto the couch, ignoring Sam's tears of joy at seeing him. "Missed you, missed you." Sam sobbed, clinging to Dean's Jacket. Dean looked down at his sleeve. Dads leather jacket. Dean caught his reflection in a mirror above the fireplace. He looked how he did in 2005. 

Sam cupped Dean's face pressing their foreheads together. "I wanna go hunting." 

Dean closed his eyes, and sighed, taking in the moment. He hadnt realized he had forgotten what Sam sounded like, how it felt to hear his name come out of Sam's mouth, 

forgotten what it felt like to be home again. 

"Okay, Sammy." Dean obviously wasnt going to take Sam on a hunt but still the lie that he was a family friend, Sam's son had asked to come over was believed easy enough by the nurse. 

For the next two days, Dean took care of Sam. Fed him, bathed him, walked around the yard with him. Mostly though, they just talked. 

Sam seemed to be confused about what year it was, he mentioned Stanford alot. That was probably why Jack had sent Dean like this. 

"You wanna go for a ride in the car?" Dean asked, having found the keys hidden in a drawer and Sam immediately lit up, nodding. 

Dean took Sam to an empty field, 

and watched the stars. Dean clinked their beer bottles together. Sam didnt even notice his was non alcoholic. He just smiled; "Cheers, jerk." 

"Cheers, bitch." 

That night, Dean helped Sam into bed. Something in his gut told him Sam's reaper wasn't far off. Dean pulled up a chair to sit by 

Sam, and held his hand, squeezing it gently. He understood why Jack had brought him here. In the barn, there had been no time to say goodbye. The attack had happened 

so fast, so violently, Dean didn't 

have a chance to say anything to Sam. 

This was his chance. Dean kissed Sam's wrist;, "I am so very proud of you, how strong, and smart you are. How you never took any of Dads crap.”

Sam's eyes softened, he looked so tired. Dean continued. "You've always kept fighting, and I know how hard that had to have been for you." Sam closed his eyes, starting to drift off into sleep, a soft smile on his face. "Love you, De." 

"I love you so much, my baby brother." 

After a bit, Dean laid Sam's hand down, and stood, walking towards the door to sleep on the couch. "Goodnight." Sam called gently. 

"Night, Sammy." 

The next morning, he left before Sam woke up, catching Sam's son, who he had learned shared a name with him at the front door.

"Take good care of him." Dean smiled, chuckling to himself at the young man's confusion. 

"Do-do I know you?" He asked. 

Dean shrugged, and walked down the sidewalk. 

Dean Jr walked inside, setting his bag down on the floor in his old bedroom, before going to his dads room. 

"Hey, Dad." He said pulling a chair up. "Your nurse just left. He seemed pretty cool.”

There was a small framed picture beside the bed of his dad when he was younger, beside him sat the uncle he knew, but never met. He 

picked up the frame, analyzing it then looked 

towards the door. There was no way, no possible way.- 

But they were both wearing the same necklace... 

"Do I know you?" He had asked the man. 

"My big brother came and visited me." Sam told him. "We drove in the Impala" He smiled, stroking the amulet around his neck. "It was fun.”

#supernatural #sam/dean #dean winchester #sam winchester #wincest #WincestDailyHC

[chrissturnsgirlll222]

can u make a story bout matt and y/n and they get in a really bad argument that leaves matt and y/n thinking about their slowly shattering relationship ?

(sorry i love angst 😭😭)

love ya !!

#🩹

breaking point

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary - this rec^^

warnings - angst, kissing, swearing, use of y/n, kind of really sad

a/n: sorry this came out so late and to the person who requested i hope this is good <3

NOT PROOFREAD

-

matt and i have been dating for 4 months and it was going amazing until recently. my friends warned me about the 3 months relationship mark and boy were they right. we have been going through a really rough patch arguing about simple shit all day, to the point where i would frown at my phone more than i would hope.

we were so happy until we couldnt make time for one another. between his crazy filming schedule and me having a normal job one of us was always busy. eventually we realized both of us had no time to be alone together and just be happy. when we did talk it was about how we need to make more time for eachother and other than that we were busy. which brings us to our dinner date that was slowly coming to an end.

“hi ill just get the bill please.” matt smiles at our waiter. i just pick at my skirt as we sit in silence. both of us were already upset with eachother before we went for dinner and then had to sit in a formal setting angry, quiet, wanting to work everything out, and still hungry as i was too upset to eat. i spent the night picking at my plate and matt pretty much did the same.

“matt i, i need you to see this from my point of view.” i mumble quietly. “stop, we will talk at home. right now im just trying to get us out of here ok?” he locks eyes with me gripping his wallet.

i nob in response as i feel tears pricking my eyes. the dim light above the table highlighting the tears threatening to spill out and i inhale sharply as matt stares at me. no expression on his face.

he pays for our dinner and i grab my coat and walk to the exit of the restaurant. fresh air hitting me like a brick as i felt i couldnt breathe in the restaurant.

the drive home was completely silent. i just sat there my purse in my lap and starring out the window. the only sound being the car engine and the occasional blinker noise.

we get to his house and he doesnt even bother getting my car door like he always used to. i enter the house after him and begin to take my shoes off. the house is quiet due to chris and nick being out of the house tonight, they wanted to give us space but honestly i would kill to hangout with one of his brothers right now. at least the air wouldnt be so stiff.

matt goes to his room and then walks to him bathroom as i work on my heel strap. all in complete silence. i grab a shirt of his and a pair of my underwear that i keep in the drawer he emptied out for me that is fulled with extra clothing and pyjamas for when im over.

i wait for him to finish showering and he walks in with wet hair and plaid pyjama pants on. “you can go.” he points to the door. “what?” i say my heart breaking at him kicking me out.

“baby go shower we were out of the house.” he says as i sigh in relief. i smile and slightly nod at him as i walk out to the bathroom.

once im done showering i find matt sitting at the end of his bed withe his elbows on his knees and phone in hand. he looks up at me as i stand in the doorway drying my hair off with a towel. you could cut our tension with a fucking knife it was almost suffocating. “can we talk now.” i ask. he pats the spot next to him and i move to sit.

“whats happening to us matt, we used to be so happy and connected.” i look down at my lap. “we are happy and connected y/n.” he says. he knows its a lie, we arent happy with eachother right now.

“we are sitting right next to eachother and i feel like were completely different rooms right now. thats not feeling connected.” im extremely frustrated at how matt cant confront the issue here.

“im right here” he grabs my hand, “why dont you feel the same. we are happy and in love and want this relationship more than anything.”

“i cant because we never make time for one another. your always with chris and nick filming or at an LA party with tons of girls.” i remove his hands from mine, “im not blaming you i just want effort from you.”

“your insecure about other girls? seriously. how is that my fault. who planned tonights dinner?” he asks

i stay silent.

“who planned tonights dinner.” he says in a scary tone. i freeze as he is correct but going on dates has nothing to do with repairing our relationship. “your getting on my fucking nerve.”

“matt a fucking dinner date isnt going to solve our problems. we need to work together to be able to be in the same room without sitting in complete shitty silence. i cant take it anymore.” i say as tears begin pooling out of my eyes.

“oh now your crying, what the fuck are you talking about. i have been putting in effort to this relationship you want me to be the bad guy here so bad. if you dont think its working you can leave. you need to learn when its time to stop. you push and push and push.”

“matt its not that i dont think its working. we can find a way around this we just need to work together. i dont see effort in the sense that you never make time for me. theres always something more important and i cant stand it anymore.” i say getting louder.

“no, your blaming me saying that you are the only person putting in effort. im not your personal serotonin dose im your fucking boyfriend. i can only do so much. if what im doing isnt enough take your shit and leave im not going to put up with this bullshit.” he shouts as tears well in his eyes.

i stare at him as tears fall out of my eyes. ive never seen him angry enough to yell. i never knew i would be the person to push this out of him. “matt if you love me you will help me fix this. we are adults not fucking teenagers that are going to break up over nothing. i love you with everything in me and want to be with you more than anything. if we keep ignoring this were going to end up broken.” i plead

“i love you enough to know that your being a bitch right now. making me the bad guy and trying to sugar coat it. well you clearly dont think this is working based off of what your saying to me.” he stands up. “if thats what you think you can sleep on the couch or get the fuck out and go home.” he wipes his eyes as tears stream.

now sobbing i get up quietly and make my way to the living room. “matt we cant be over.” i wipe my eyes and sniffle, turning around to him in the door way.

“you tell me.”

-

thanks for reading xx

taglist: @sleepysturnss @blahbel668 @alorsxsturn @w4nnabeurs @junnniiieee07 @waydasims @matthewloverr @bitchydragonparadise @matthewsturnioloswifey @iloveneilperry @stunza @realuvrrr @jennss23 @tubl-mc @lilsstvrn

a/n: how are we feeling???

#matty b sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #nicolas sturniolo

[sammysficfactory]

Missing Blanket

husband!dad!miguel x blackcoded!reader

tags: fluff🤭

summary: when miguel loses gabriella’s favorite blanket, all hell breaks loose.

wc: 1k words

notes: gabriella is a daddy’s girl, i could give miguel the family he wants, beta read

beta reader comments: aww thats so cute, not Miguel got the credit

Miguel was screwed. Utterly screwed. Your daughter Gabriella was having a fit because Miguel had lost her favorite blanket. Miguel was looking high and low, far and wide for this blanket. You still wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, so he was by himself. He holds Gabriella to his chest as he looks for her favorite yellow blanket.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m gonna find your blanket, okay? Daddy’s gonna find it.” He says calmly, trying to soothe her panicked state. Miguel feels terrible seeing his little girl so upset, so he’s on a mission. Miguel is all but turning the house upside down looking for the blanket when he hears the click of the front door lock.

“Miguel? Gabby? Where are y’all?” You ask, a bit frantic at the sound of your daughter’s cries. You spot Miguel holding your daughter and looking frazzled as he whips his head left to right.

“What’s wrong with my baby?” You coo at your daughter, concern painting your features. Gabby lifts her head to look at you before making grabby hands at you, motioning for you to pick her up. You take her into your arms, making a face to ask Miguel ‘what the fuck happened?’

“Daddy can’t find my blanket!” She sobs, answering your question. Your face drops in panic. ‘You did what?!’ you mouth at him. Miguel grimaces. ‘I don’t know! It’s like it just vanished into thin air! I don’t know what to do!’ he mouths back frantically, shrugging. You roll your eyes, sighing as you rub your daughter’s back.

“It’s okay, mommy’s gonna help find it.” You kiss her temple before going to the third floor of your home, checking every room for that damned blanket. You start in the bedroom you and Miguel slept in, sitting your daughter on the bed as you frantically look under the bed, in your dirty clothes hamper, and in your closet to no avail. You grab your daughter and go across the hall to her old nursery, checking the crib, the empty diaper bag, and the dresser full of clothes she couldn’t fit anymore. You leave and go to the bathroom, checking anywhere a blanket could fit, all without success.

You go down to the second floor, first checking Gabriella’s playroom. You look in and behind her dollhouse, check her toy chest, inside her lego bucket, and her small bookshelf only to find nothing. You rush into her room, checking under her pillows, blanket, and bed. Next you go into her drawers, closet and dirty clothes hamper, just to see absolutely nothing. You check the second floor bathroom, doing the same thing you did on the previous floor.

Finally, you get to the first floor. You sit your daughter on the couch as you frantically search with Miguel once more, checking under the couch, under the table of your dining room, in your kitchen, and hall closet. You come back to your living room, plopping on the couch and sighing in defeat before an idea pops up in your head. You snap your head in your husband’s direction.

“Miguel, did you check the basement?” You ask. Miguel looks at you as if you’re crazy.

“The basement, why would I check-” Then it dawned on him. Since he had the day off, Miguel offered to take Gabriella to school and start laundry before the weekend began. Your laundry room was in the basement. The two of you rush down to your basement and Miguel opens the dryer to see the very catalyst for your daughter's distress. The two of you sigh in relief.

“Look Gabby, daddy has your blanket!” You say, pointing to an exhausted Miguel who was holding the yellow blanket. Gabriella’s cries cease almost immediately when she sees her blanket in her father’s hands. Miguel hands her the blanket with a kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you, daddy.” She says, wiping her tears and quickly grabbing the blanket before nuzzling her face into it. Miguel pinches her cheek gently with a small smile.

“Thank you, honey.” Miguel winks at you, kissing your cheek as he takes Gabriella into his arms. You roll your eyes playfully, a little bitter that your husband got all the credit for your idea.

You all walk back up the stairs together. Gabby’s face was smiley and satisfied, very different from the tired but fairly relieved expression you and Miguel shared.

“Mommy, I’m hungry. What’s for dinner?” Gabby asks poking you every other syllable. You shrug before playfully nibbling her finger, resulting in a fit of laughter from her.

“I don’t know girl, ask your father.” Miguel glares at you, resulting in you glaring back. Miguel quickly averts his eyes, visibly intimidated. Since becoming a mom, your death stare has gotten better. Sometimes you’d need it in the store when Gabby was about to have a temper tantrum and she would get it together immediately. Your daughter turns to Miguel.

“Daddy can we get pizza for dinner?” She asks, showing off her trademark large and sparkly puppy eyes. You had to give your daughter her props, she knew how to get what she wanted. She’s also learned that her father was in the palm of her hand fairly quickly. Miguel makes a pained face, clearly torn between not wanting to say yes and not wanting to tell his precious daughter no.

“Okay, I’ll order pizza.” Your husband sighs in defeat, he was no match for the big sparkly brown eyes your daughter had. Gabriella rejoices in victory, doing a little dance and a song.

“We’re getting pizza. We’re getting pizza.” She repeated constantly in a sing-song voice. Miguel rubs his temples, you figured it was a stress induced headache and that Gabriella wasn’t helping.

“Gabby.” You warn. She grins sheepishly before apologizing and continuing her dance quietly, humming her to her tune. You and Miguel laugh quietly at her run of the mill antics.

“That’s your dramatic ass daughter, Miguel.” You snort. Miguel shrugs, shaking his head.

“Sure is.” He grins as he orders the pizza online. After ordering, he tosses his phone onto the coffee table and leans back in his seat.

#sam’s masterlist #black reader #black reader insert #black!reader #fluff #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #black!y/n #miguel x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #astv miguel #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #spiderman atsv #black fem reader #black coded reader

[melanieph321]

Angsty Idea for Ruben Imagine:

Y/N has been on a girls trip and Ruben promised to pick her up from the airport and spend the day together but he forgot and goes out with the boys. Y/N is hurt and feels like he doesn’t care about her and they get in a big fight but make up at the end !!

This request was great. The people thought it was great. And so here it is, greatness.

Ruben Dias x Reader - The Only Girl In His World

⚠️Warning ⚠️

+18

Enjoy!

You called your mom as soon as you got into a taxi outside of the airport.

"Y/N, this is the third time!"

But calling her might have been a mistake.

"Mom, Ruben hasn't forgotten to pick me up before."

"No. But last week he forgot to e-mail you the plane tickets for your trip and the week before that he had trouble remembering which country you and your friends were even visiting. It's how it starts honey and you need to put a foot down, or else."

"Or else what?" You frowned, although deep down the truth hurt.

"Or else you'll end up alone in a big house with four kids whilst your husband is running around living his life like some hot shot bachelor."

"Mom, that would never happen. You know Ruben, besides he doesn't even want kids." You defended, just like you had defended Ruben's mistake to your friends, saying he had alot going on and therefore forgot to e-mail you their tickets. "....At least we haven't talked about that yet."

"And you won't need to." She said. "Because he'll forget to pick you up for that meeting too."

"Jupp, okay. I see where this phone call is going mom. I'm hanging up now..." You had already cried at the airport when, after two hours of waiting, you realized that your boyfriend had forgotten about you. Your mother was not about to ruin the make up you had to redo because of that.

"Y/N, I just don't want you to get hurt." She said, more sympathetically.

"Like I said mom. It's Ruben we're talking about. He would never hurt me, ever."

The phone call ended.

Thirty minutes later the taxi pulled up to Ruben's apartment building. You took the elevator up and felt your heartbeat with longing for a hug from the love of your life, however, all you were met with was an empty apartment and no Ruben.

"Baby?"

You went from room to room, switching on the lights just to confirm that "Jupp." Your boyfriend forgot about you, or he simply couldn't care less about you. The worst thing was the realization that today was Ruben's day off, and thst at some point he had been home, and not alone. The Playstation was still plugged into the TV and there were empty bottles of that recovery drink that Ruben loved. However you couldn't imagine he'd ever recover from this, you'd never allow Ruben to make you feel this way again.

"Y/N?"

It was around eleven o'clock at night when you heard keys turn in the lock. Ruben must have sighted your open suitcase in the living room, for he was shouting your name.

"Fuck me." You heard him sigh. "Y/N, are you here?"

"In here!" You shouted from the bedroom. You were on the floor emptying drawers of all of your things.

"Oh my god, Y/N. I'm so sorry baby, so fucking sorry." Ruben appeared in the door frame, a pale look on his face, knowing damn well that he fucked up by forgetting to pick you up at the airport.

"I swear you said Sunday." He said, which was not an excuse, you thought. Why hadn't he checked with you if he was so unsure? A quick text message would have sufficed.

"No Ruben." You mumbled. "I specifically told you four o'clock, Saturday."

He slapped a hand over his face and sighed. "Fuck, I must have mixed up the dates."

"Of course you did."

"So...how did you get home?" He asked, the question so dumb that you wanted to slap that stupid look of innocence that he wore on his face.

"I took a taxi Ruben. Another will be here in a minute to pick me up."

He frowned "Why?"

You stood, a pile of folded clothes in your hands. "I'm leaving you Ruben. I'm tired of feeling like I'm always second best to you. So I'm prioritizing myself by leaving...you."

"What?" He blurred out. "W...what do you mean?"

You pushed past him as he stood in the door, once in the living room you dumped your folded clothes into your already packed suitcase.

"Baby, what do you mean your leaving me?" Ruben was close behind you, demanding answers. Why he was upset you  couldn't  even fathom. "Is this you breaking up with me or something, and for what, because I forgot to pick you up from a fucking airport?"

"And you forgot to send me my plane tickets! And you forgot which fucking country I was even in!" You shouted, with tears trailing down your face . "Did you even notice that I was gone Ruben? Did you even care that I was gone?"

"Baby?" He looked confused, confused as to why you were shouting and crying. "Why would you even ask me that? Of course I cared that you were gone. That's why I've had Bernardo come over here and play FIFA with me everyday since you left. "I...I don't know what has made you come to this conclusion about me...about us?" He looked to the suitcase on the floor with terror in his eyes. "Please, let's just talk about this first before you decide to do anything neither of us want.

You hated that he made you feel like the dramatic one, however he was right, the two of you should talk things out before you did anything that might be irreversible in the end.

"I don't wanna talk." You muttered.

"No?" Ruben looked on the verge of something, something he wouldn't recover from. "W...what do you want then?"

"I want to feel loved."

"Fuck." He sighed, rushing to cup your face in his hands. He lifted your head, bending down, kissing you. "Of course I love you. Your the only girl for me." He kissed you again, harder.

"Prove it." You said, pulling away from him.

"What?" He looked confused, so confused and afraid, afraid of losing you.

"Prove that you love me and only me"

"Y/N, how would I even do that?"

Your eyes looked him up and down, indicating nothing more than what you needed right now. "Fuck me."

Ruben's brows lifted.

You smiled. "Fuck me like I'm the only girl in the world."

Nothing more was said. Ruben didn't even let you leave the living room before your clothes came off. He had your legs spread wide with his cock thrusting in and out deep in side if you. He fucked you right there and then, on the living room couch, like you were the only girl in his world.

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #ruben dias imagine #football angst

[callofdudes]

Hello! I hope you've had a good (of night if your nocturnal like me) Haven't been feeling too well this past week, so I would really appreciate if you could write a poly! fic (or plantonic, whatever your more comfortable with) where reader who is known for not being mentally sound has been really out of it the entire week, sends the 141 + könig a text saying "thanks for everything, I love you all. " and everyone panics, rushing to readers room and könig and ghost have to Fucking BREAK down the locked door, and find reader lying in a pool of their own blood from all the cuts they made on their body. Past cuts have been reopened, and reader is in critical conditionof this ask makes you uncomfortable I totally undsrstand, have a good day/night

As someone who has struggled with this stuff, you are loved here, and you are not alone ❤️ if you can't seem to find comfort around you, I promise you have a safe space to talk here. And please reach out to the right help.

Thank you @g4y-gr3ml1n for the request. I hope you are satisfied.

CW: Attempted suicide, cutting, hurt with comfort

How long have you been feeling like this? What time was it? You look up at the clock, another two hours until lunch, just great.

You looked back down at your paperwork, too uncomfortable to stop yourself from scratching at the healing scars on your arms. You'd promised yourself to try and stop, you were really trying. You'd started calling them scars from missions to try and cope. But nothing ever worked.

Your knee bounces rapidly, hitting the underside of your desk with a light thump, thump.

The look of the paperwork in front of you was no different. Why were you feeling off. You weren't supposed to be like this anymore.

You finally stopped scratching and stood up from your desk. You just needed a break. You walk out of your office and down the hallway. It wasn't long before you ran into Johnny and his bright sunny smile.

"Hey y/n, what's turning the cogs up there today??"

It was an innocent question but it felt hard to answer. You suddenly don't feel like talking. You hang your head and slowly slip past him. "Mm sorry Johnny." you mutter on the way.

Johnny turns, watching you as you go, his eyebrow raising. Maybe something happened?? He hadn't seen you all day.

Each step you take down the hallway feels like a dark void. Each footsteps sinking you further and further into darkness. The empty hallway doesn't help at all to break the silence and overcome your thoughts as you walk. You flip up your sleeve and find the fresh cuts, already starting to prickle with blood from irritation, and you start to scratch.

Your nails dig into the cuts and tear open the flesh. Ripping away new skin and chalking blood all over your fingers.

The thoughts were back, you'd warded them away but they returned.

"Useless human being, Incapable,ugly, annoying, a failure." It all swam around in your head and before long you were faced with your bedroom door.

You push it open and slam it shut. You let a sob tear from your throat in the comfort of your room. The cold, dark room that gave little comfort anymore. It felt like a routine getting up and going to bed. Breathing seems to be the only thing you are good at anymore.

You hold yourself, huddled in a ball against your door as you cry. Painful tears wash over you. And all the pain you'd tried to push down comes with it. Every memory, every ache and every pain. You can't help wanting to scream until your lungs give out, and yet you can't.

You bang your head back against your door. What's wrong with me?? What's wrong with me?? There is nothing wrong with you, that's what everyone around you tells you. But you know they're wrong.

You cry into your hands, your eyes stinging up in pain. Finally having the strength to move you stumble to the bedroom mirror and look at yourself. You can't see what they see, the loving, caring person they all say you are.

And instinctively you start to dig in your drawers. You yank them all open, sadness, fear, and pain boiling up in your stomach and in your head.

Take a deep breath, sleep it off, you'll be ok.

Find Simon! Find Simon, he'll help. They'll help you. You know they will.

But that thought was too far gone. It wasn't worth the time walking around looking for solace when you had some right here.

You grabbed the handle of the blade.

Simon had gifted it to you on your birthday and you almost felt guilty that you'd never used the thing in self defense before.

You were about to press the knife to your skin when your insides flipped. Your heart pounds in your throat. You drop the blade and rush to the bathroom, feeling your breakfast rise up your throat. Through tears and acid stinging your throat, cupping the sides of the toilet as everything is let go. You feel worthless and stupid.

The bile stings and cuts off the oxygen you so desperately need. It feels like you're dying. It feels like it goes on forever.

When everything stops, your tears just come harder. Your tired body collapses to the bathroom floor in heart wrenching sobs. You wanted to break something, make something else take this endless pain.

You were done pushing it down and trying to change. You couldn't love yourself no matter how much others did for you. They could never get rid of all the hurt and the anguish that boiled inside of you.

Every "I'm fine" and "I promise" felt like a regurgitated ugly lie to keep the ones you love at bay. To keep Simon and König away. Johnny and Gaz. Even Price.

You pull yourself off the floor and come back over to your bed, feeling exhausted. Just sleep it off. Please, just try and sleep it off. It'll be ok tomorrow.

Lies, it would never go away. It never would.

Your eyes fixated on the blade on your bed, then to yourself in the mirror.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, knowing this would be it. You were done feeling like this. Feeling worthless and empty.

Your hands started to shake when you started to write. The group chat was for important stuff. This would be important to them right?? Who were you kidding? Of course it wouldn't.

You sent the text and grabbed the blade, tearing it into your skin without a second thought. The pain was like a sweet release. Blood flowing from your arm and down your wrist. It felt like an escape. A whole different reality. You tore your shirt off and started to cut, and cut, and cut…

It was a normal day, everything seemed to be going perfect for Simon. He finished up paperwork early and was on his way to find Johnny when his phone buzzed. It was either Johnny or you, he felt a smile tugs at his lips at the thought. He hadn't seen you all day, you were supposed to be loaded with work.

He pulls out his phone, seeing that it was you who had texted the group chat. He opened the message and his blood ran cold.

He stopped along the hallway, rereading the text over and over and over again. His insides tightened and his pulse spiked like he was falling out of an airplane. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak.

Another text popped up.

"Herrlich, wo bist du!?" It was from König.

Simon's hands trembled and real, raw fear pitted him in the chest. His legs felt like jello when he turned to run. "Y/N!!"

He made a break for your office and pulled the door open when he got there. Apparently König had the same idea, falling in line when Simon rushed in to find your paperwork barely touched.

Simon couldn't catch his breath. No no no, this isn't happening. This wasn't happening. His legs caved in, König rushing to grab him and hold him up. They made eye contact and they both knew if they didn't find you they would lose you.

König's voice shook. "Their room??"

Simon nods.

They run from your office, finding Gaz and Johnny along the way. There were no questions asked. Nothing said, if they didn't find you everyone would suffer.

They ran across the building to the barracks and came to your room.

"Y/n!!!"

Simon pounds on the door.

"Y/n please!!"

"Open the door please!!!"

"Oh God y/n please!! I know you're hurting but please don't do that! I promise you I'm right here!! I'm right here y/n please!!" He screams.

He's trembling so badly he can barely twist the doorknob.

He wails when he finds it locked.

Johnny tries to force it open, banging his shoulder into the door as hard as he can.

"Stand back" König steps in front of him, letting Gaz and Johnny take Simon and keep him from passing out.

König's heart is in his ears, blood rushing so fast he feels dizzy and his vision is near fuzzy. He slams into the door and kicks it on, the lock combusting with the force. And he enters the room.

His insides tighten and everything goes dark. Simon rushes into the room and sees the blood. He sees you, and the blade he'd given you.

Simon wails again, falling to your knees. He rips off his mask and takes your hand, holding it tightly in his. "Please… please…"

"Please don't go. Y/n I'm so sorry- I'm so sorry honey."

König can't move. His body is entirely frozen. Seeing you laying there in your own blood. It's dripping down the sheets and pooling all over you. You'd torn up your arms, destroyed your legs and he didn't want to think what else.

Johnny and Gaz rush in, running to your side next to Ghost.

"Stop the bleeding! We have to stop the bleeding!" Gaz can barely speak, hands trembling when he touches you, the tips of his fingers soaked in blood.

Tears filled König's eyes and spilled down his cheeks. He didn't remember the point he started falling until his head hit the ground.

Everyone was in tears, and Price was the last to show up. He'd seen the text late, and he was scared he couldn't save you.

König was having a panic attack, barely breathing and shaking like a leaf. Simon was full out wailing, holding your limp hand and begging you not to go.

Price crawls onto the bed and cups your neck gently. He kisses your forehead and cradles you in his arms.

Simon looks up at him. "Price please- they can't leave!"

Price ran his fingers through your hair and over your pressure point, feeling barely a pulse over his fingers.

"If we don't move now, I don't think we'll ever see them again."

Simon could barely stand as Price pulls you up into his arms and cradles you. "I've got you honey, don't worry, I've got you love" Price lays a blanket over you to keep you warm and concealed from other soldiers seeing you like this.

Johnny, Gaz and König leave with Price, but Simon couldn't move. Simon looks down at the blade covered in your own blood.

"I'm sorry…"

"I'm so sorry…"

"I-"

He drops the blade and hides his face. He couldn't lose another important person. Please no. He couldn't have one more person taken away from him. You couldn't leave. He didn't want you to join Tommy and the others yet.

He stays there in your room for what felt like minutes, but was all of hours.

Simon gently rocking himself back and forth.

Eventually he is able to move, barely getting to his own room.

Nobody slept that night.

Simon wasn't a believer but he begged God to spare your life. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. Everyone else has been ruthlessly ripped away from him and he couldn't have it happen again. He cared so much for you.

König couldn't process it. Nightmare after nightmare. Every time he walked into that room and saw his best friend collapsed on the bed.

The others didn't sleep a wink either.

Price tried to do your paperwork for you, but he couldn't. He kept checking his phone for any notice that you were stable and doing ok after he'd delivered you to hospice.

Breakfast was quiet, for those who showed up. Gaz and Johnny didn't speak as they ate, eating half of what they usually would.

"Try and finish your food boys." Price instructed.

"I don't feel hungry." Johnny whispered.

"You need to eat, it'll make your body happy."

Johnny shook his head. "I'm sorry." He slipped away from the lunch table and didn't return.

Gaz looked down at his own plate, barely touched. He tried to finish.

When the hospital called saying you needed an urgent blood transfusion, Gaz didn't hesitate. You both matched blood types, and he didn't care how much you needed, if it would keep you alive he'd give you every organ In his body.

"This will only hurt a bit." The nurse smiled.

"If it helps y/n, any kind of pain is worth it."

"That's very kind of you, soldier."

"A needle won't hurt nearly as much as if my love doesn't wake up." He replied, deadpan and serious, not wanting to think of that outcome at all.

Two days passed. But finally, you could feel the feeling return in your fingers. Tightness around your arms, your pulse beating against the bandages like it were trying to escape out from the healing wounds.

Your eyes slowly opened, the bright white making your heart race. You weren't in heaven now, were you? For some reason it felt… long. A long wait.

And then a face was looking at you.

"Simon…?" You whispered.

His blurry face filled with relief, rough hands gently cupping your cheeks.

"Yes love, it's me. I'm right here."

You reached out your hand for him but Simon gently brought it back down. "I love you so much y/n." Tears swell in your eyes, his warm lips pressing against your own, soaking in your presence.

He was trembling when he held you, pulling away from the kiss to give you air.

He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text before his attention was back on you.

"What... Happened..?"

Simon's soft eyes turn saddened. The door opens and two more figures ran in.

Gaz and Price are at your side.

You smile softly, seeing them both. "Guys..."

Gaz wasn't always known to cry, but he burst into tears seeing your smile. He kisses your forehead in relief. "Thank goodness you're ok."

"Gaz," You whisper.

"I'm right here, and the captain too. Johnny and König are on their way."

Gas moves away so Price can see you and he cups your hands tightly. "I'm sorry we weren't there for you in a time of need."

Everything slowly comes back and you start to cry, nodding while he holds you. "But we love you so much hon. And you can always come and talk to us. Please don't bottle it up because we care. We care so much for you hon."

You sob when the others enter, embracing the loving kiss Price presses to your cheek.

Johnny's hands are all over you, whispering love in your ear when he comes to your bedside. Something about it makes you feel so loved in the moment. So utterly loved. More tears fall. Johnny kisses them away. Peppering soft kisses along your jaw and over your cheeks. He presses another kiss to your lips and embraces your scent. The way your lips feel against his.

He finally pulls away, tears in his own eyes. "We love you so so much."

König is next, nearly picking you up out of your bed and engulfing you in his arms. He nuzzles against your warmth, his heart racing out of his chest.

You quiver, holding him back. That's when you see the bandages on your arms. You're still in pain, but you hug him back.

"I love you guys too."

"I just.... Couldn't take it."

"Please talk to us then," Simon placed his hand on your shoulder. "We will always be here for you. Ok?"

You nod, more tears flowing down your cheeks.

"We all love you y/n. We love you so much." Price's soft voice came as you were laid back down on the hospital bed. They stayed with you, comforting you with their presence until you were drifting back asleep. The sound of their voices sending you into peace.

You are loved. So so incredibly loved. And even when the world feels dark, the people who will hug you and listen to you are closer than they appear.

Sometimes it's scary to reach out for help, but the ones who truly love you will never let you fall once they catch you.

Loved ones, help lines, even someone over the internet may make it better, helping you to triumph over these things.

And I know it feels dark, but you are so loved, even when the ones who love you seem to be the furthest away.

-El

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #ghost x reader #captain john price #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john price x reader #könig x reader #könig x y/n #konig x reader

[decadentworld]

loved the first fanfic! it was delicious!

so um could i request jonathan byers with dacryphilia, praise, maybe even perverted jonathan?

like it's jonathans first time bottoming and he's kind of scared, but he's fantasized about it for a very long time so he's very eager and obedient.

you don't have to write it, of course! whatever you're comfortable with, dude.

take care!

Hey, anon. I went kind of overboard with the ‘pervert Jonathan’ part, because this boy just screams ‘secret pervert’ to me. I hope it’s alright. This one is a lot more light-hearted and a lot less poetic than Rebirth.

Also. I promised myself that requests wouldn’t be as long as my personal works but. Well. Oops.

Vice.

Jonathan’s first time does not go the way he plans it. In fact, it goes a lot better.

※ Sub Bottom Jonathan/Dom Top Male Reader

※ 12,444 words.

※ Anonymous request.

※ Content & warnings: First time bottoming. Dacryphilia. Size difference/Size queen. D/s dynamics. Praise kink. Authority kink. Pervert Jonathan. Hardcore first time. Overstimulation. Un-beta’d.

※ Both characters are 18 or older.

※ Work available only on Tumblr and under ArchiveOfOurOwn pseud of the same name (DecadentWorld). Do not repost, edit, or redistribute. Do not use for TikTok videos.

Jonathan’s little secret is at all times kept under lock and key. Several locks, actually. And a combination lock with no less than five numbers for good measure.

There’s this box hidden within his closet, see, which is quite sizable, though it is very discreet and easy to hide in the deepest part of his closet, behind his chest of drawers. It’s black; he knows it’s originally intended as a cash safe, or he supposes, since he didn’t actually buy it. He found it. He swears that’s the word that describes it best: ‘found’ it. What could an open cash safe have been doing just lying around in the junkyard otherwise? He did not steal it. It was open, it was empty, it was happenstance that he needed something to store his ever-growing collection of his more personal things and there was an abandoned cash safe in the junkyard. Simple.

Now, what’s inside this box nowadays? Only he knows as of yet. It’s not something he could just be saying outloud. There are already consequences just for people like Jonathan to simply show his true face in Hawkins, but if anyone unsafe found what he keeps in the box? He would be skinned alive. He would be castrated, for sure.

Which is why he always makes absolutely sure to close it, lock it, and hide it away after he finishes making use of the… erm. Objects inside.

He always does. He never forgets.

After withdrawing from one of the most intense, toe-curling make-out sessions with his boyfriend —his boyfriend. It makes him so fucking giggly to think of that word— as he greeted you into his house, a surprise visit from you, he leads you closer to his bed with a shy hand on yours.

“Just get comfortable,” he tells you. “I’m gonna bring in something to eat.”

“Sure, gorgeous.”

The mental haze he gets after the slight praise is probably one of the reasons why he gets sloppy today.

He walks to the kitchen with a spring in his step. He’s home alone for the moment, something so rare it’s a golden opportunity he won’t waste. God. He feels so bubbly when he’s with you. He opens the fridge as he thinks of this. Jonathan’s never felt like this, like he could turn to mush just by being next to you, like he could start giggling at any given moment just because you talk to him with a voice that rumbles throughout his body, like he could swoon when you press your palm against the back of his head, because he feels like you could engulf him wholly. His break-up with Nancy led him to several realizations, one of which —and he’s sorry, Nancy, but it has to be said— is the one where he found he’s a lot more attracted to men than to women. By, like. A lot. Nancy knew about his bisexuality before, but never commented on it. He doesn’t think she did (or didn’t, rather) out of maliciousness, or awkwardness, or anything like that. Jonathan knows there was just no possible situation in which the topic could be talked about casually, so why bother. He’s absolutely not mad or anything like that. Plus, there’s no point in discussing something like that when they were in a relationship; for no reason would he think about other men, or women, while he had a girlfriend. These thoughts lead to other similar ones as he’s getting some snacks ready in small plastic bowls. He feels kind of bad for not being more open with his family. With Will, especially. He knows the euphoria, the feeling of safeness that Will would get if he knew there was an older queer figure in his life. Sure, Will is not out, but it’s sort of an open secret now. But Jonathan is not that brave. He knows his mom has the tiniest suspicion of Jonathan being at least a little bit queer, what with you coming over more often than not. For college assignments, of course. And everything leads back to you. He bites his lip with a smile on his face as he finishes pouring the contents of a packet into one of the little bowls. Everything about you has him crazy. It’s the fact that you tower over him but still hold him in your arms like he’s delicate, fragile. It’s how you still haven’t made any sexual advances towards him, because you know he’s a virgin in that aspect, and because he told you how very nervous the thought made him. But Jonathan knows you sense something more, and how very right you are without realizing it, that he might be sort of terrified, yet it’s the only thing he can think about these days. It’s even more difficult to focus on anything else when he can only think about you taking him in your big hands, making him —everything about him— look small. Can’t help getting hard in unfortunate situations sometimes, can’t choose which fantasy is best: the one where you take your time with him, treating him gently… or the one where you rip his virginity away, so intensely that he’s crying in the end. He has to calm down before he gets hard. Again. Because he’s already taken the edge off, had an orgasm earlier today. Made use of some of the objects in his—

Wait.

WAIT.

He sprints towards his room leaving the bowls abandoned on the kitchen counter. And there you are.

On his bed. Not having moved at all, of course. How could you? His bed is quite comfy.

You’re sitting on his bed. Looking at the open closet some feet from you. With a scandalized, but pleased expression.

Looking at the open safe on the closet floor.

Jonathan throws himself in front of the closet and closes the door with such force it resounds across his bedroom.

“How much did you see?!”

You look at him, amusedly, pleasantly surprised at this new version of Jonathan you’re seeing. “Um… enough?”

Jonathan covers his burning face and groans. It’s a long and muffled noise. “Oh my Goood,” he mumbles behind his hands.

You can’t help but chuckle a little bit. “Babe… why are you so shaken about this?”

“It’s… you weren’t supposed to see.” Jonathan peeks at you from between his fingers. “It’s so fucking embarrassing.”

“Uh…” You understand where he’s coming from, but, honestly, if he thinks this is the end of the world then he’s sorely mistaken. “It’s… not, really. It’s actually kind of… hot.”

Jonathan lowers his hands so quickly he accidentally slaps the closet door behind him. He gapes at you, so mortified he could melt to the floor. “Wh-What— You don’t— You’re not mad?”

Now you’re frowning in confusion. “Why would I be mad?”

“Well… I kind of… told you I’ve never…” You never thought he could get any more red until now. “And I still… have these things…”

You give him a sort of wolfish smile. He knows you’re trouble when you stand up, slowly walk the few steps to him, and suddenly you’re towering over him.

He gulps. He’s so terrified and excited about what you’re going to say, to do.

You lower a hand to the left side of his waist. He jumps a little bit. “It is hot, Jonathan. Now, feel free to push me off if I’m out of line, but I’m suddenly really, really curious to see more of that.”

He makes a small shrill you find adorable. “Uh— you want to s— how— what did you see, exactly?”

“Well, I saw… some nice-looking ropes.” Jonathan grumbles with embarrassment. “Saw something that looks like…” You leave his waist for a second to use both index fingers to draw something in the air that vaguely resembles a spade. He looks like a fish out of water. “I spotted a shape that looks a lot like something I have, too… if you’d be interesting in comparing.” Jonathan is almost hyperventilating at this point. “But, I think the most interesting one… it was barely peeking, but… the corner of something that I know, Jonathan, I know, is a photo?”

He can’t take it. He hides his face in your chest and whines so loudly it can barely be muffled. You cackle. It’s not a mean sound. You just can’t believe how agitated he’s being about something so normal. So you reassure him.

“It’s normal, Jonathan. It just means you have a healthy way of having fun on your own.”

He grumbles some more. He peeks at you from his spot on your chest. “You think?”

“Yep. And I would absolutely not mind knowing more about it. About your… stash.”

That at least pulls a giggle out of him. “You say it like I’m dealing.” He withdraws.

You caress his chin with a smile. “I am. I would pay only the highest price for this very fine selection.”

Jonathan bites his lip, a small smile in his face. You make him feel so safe, no judgement ever bleeding from your words. “You want to see it?”

You nod, almost enthusiastically, and he laughs. You step back some, giving him some space to open the closet door behind him. He does, and crouches down to retrieve it. Before pulling it out completely, he hesitates. “Um…”

“Yeah?”, you encourage him.

“It’s… if that’s all you saw, then… you didn’t even see half of it?” He says the last part more hushed, like he’s so embarrassed of himself he can’t even speak.

“Oh.” And you sound even more excited now. “Well. You’ll just have to show me all of it, right?”

Jonathan bites his lip and giggles nervously. He pulls the black safe out of his closet and onto the floor of his room.

You give him a muffled laugh. He was right. You didn’t even see half of what he’s got. You skim over the contents, before saying: “Wanna bring this up to the bed so I can see it better?”

He nods. With a strong blush on his face, Jonathan lifts the open box and leaves it on his bed.

The moment of truth is here. You both sit on the mattress, the open safe between you two, its contents perfectly visible. Jonathan is sort of hunched over himself with a hand on his mouth, looking so embarrassed you find it endearing.

You feast on all the objects inside the safe. There’s the things you’ve already seen: red ropes, a metal buttplug, a black silicone dildo, and yes, there are pictures too. Pictures of himself with those ropes around him and nothing more, photographs of parts of his body, a lot more artistic than actually sexual in nature. Close-ups of Jonathan’s cum on the wooden floor. But apart from that, there’s also skin mags. Pocket-sized ones. They’re all gay skin mags. There are also a lot more toys and sexual objects: nipple clamps, anal beads, a small bullet-shaped vibrator, a cock ring, a flogger, a chest harness, a collar with a D ring and matching cuffs for the wrists and ankles —you have to catch your breath at that one. An unlabeled cassette. That one picks your interest a lot. You don’t see any fleshlights or VHS’s. Probably didn’t fit in the safe with how much stuff there is already. Lastly, you see two different tubes of lubricant: a neutral one, and a cherry-flavored one; and a handful of packets of condoms.

His collection is impressive. It’s almost like he collects these things, like he treasures them, keeps them stored away safely only for his eyes and body to feast on whenever he has the time. All in all, you get a rush of something that feels like awe, and lust at the same time.

You finally look at him. He is so red behind his hands, and he’s also shaking a little bit, like he’s so nervous to hear what you have to say about all this.

“Oh, babe. Look at me.” Jonathan complies, looking at you from the spaces between his fingers. “This? This is amazing. Like, wow. You have so much stuff.” You give him a little smirk, about to test the waters. “Have you used all of them already?”

At that, Jonathan can only cover his face completely, muffled laughs hysterical from how awkward he feels, and throws himself back on the bed. At least he’s not outright rejecting you.

A little nod catches your attention.

“That’s so hot, baby.” You softly grab around the edges of the safe and turn it around a bit to see better. Jonathan lowers his hands down to his mouth to be able to see you when he feels the jostle on the bed. “Can you tell me what… this one is?” You point at the cassette.

“Oh my God.” Jonathan looks like he’s biting his nails. He decides to sit up instead. He takes the cassette in his trembling hands and holds it up, the side you saw before facing you and the other one facing Jonathan. “Um…”

“If you want, obviously.”

“U-Um…” He giggles nervously a bit more. That’s good. He’s not actually afraid or uncomfortable, just shy. “It’s… like a narration. The narrator says things that are supposed to… make you feel things.”

It’s so vague, since he’s still pretty mortified about showing you all this, but you think you understand. “Okay. Kind of like… hypnosis?”

“Well… yeah, but not really in the traditional sense.” Jonathan fiddles with the cassette. “It’s just relaxing, but also…” His renewed blush tells you everything you need to know.

“That’s so interesting.” You lean over to examine the small rectangle better, and suddenly spot some handwritten text on the back. “Oh. What does it say?”

Jonathan shrieks. He didn’t mean for you to see that. His hand just accidentally moved until the cassette was no longer parallel to you. “Uhhh…” But, he decides to brave through, because this entire situation is doing something to him. “But… but don’t make fun of me. Please.”

“Of course not!”, you’re quick to say. “Why would I?”

Jonathan bites his lower lip. “Well…” He fidgets a bit, then shakily hands you the cassette over.

You give him a reassuring little smile as you accept the tape. You turn it around. And.

Ah.

Jonathan is full of surprises, isn’t he.

Your eyes go hazy with lust as you read the handwritten two words on the white sticker: Good Boy. You understand a bit better now. You can totally picture what it is: the deep masculine voice of a male narrator giving the listener instructions on what to do, how to touch themselves, what a good boy they’re being for obeying. So Jonathan has the biggest praise kink ever. No big deal. Not at all. Except. It’s all you’ll be able to think about for the rest of your life.

You can’t help yourself. Your hand reaches the back of his head and you give your boyfriend a steamy kiss, right over the open safe, feeling him tremble and whine against you. He opens his mouth in time for you to slip your tongue in and start a sensual caress over his own. Jonathan grabs at your clothes in desperation, squirming in his place on the bed like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

You withdraw and look at him. Not only is he sporting the most gorgeous blush ever, but there’s a hint of lust there now, too.

“That’s so fucking hot, Jon. You like being a good boy?”

He suddenly moans against your lips. But then seems to sober up and covers his mouth, ashamed.

You take his hand into yours and move it aside with a little bit of resistance. “None of that, sweetness. Let me hear you.”

He does this little whine and instead lifts his other hand over his mouth, not entirely covering it, just appearing to be chewing on his nails. Even then, he’s gives you a small shaky smile as he shakes his head in shy denial.

“No?” You push only enough to give him a thrill, never to spook him. Your hand that was holding his releases him and goes under his chin. Jonathan puts both hands on his lap as he timidly looks up at you. “I hope I’m not overstepping here, but…”

“N-No, no, you’re not.” Jonathan puts his left hand on the one you have under his chin. “I’m just… this is just kinda new to me.”

You grin at him. “Sweetheart.” You lean in to give him a small peck on the lips. Even that seems to leave him breathless. “I was just saying that… it’d be so hot if you told me more about some of these things. Hm? What do you say?”

He releases a heavy breath that borders on being a moan. He bites his lip, but nods in the end. You release his face and he runs two delicate hands across his hair.

Right when he’s about to speak up, there’s a loud thud coming from the front door of the house.

Jonathan yelps and jumps almost a foot in the air. He immediately closes the lid of the safe box. You’re both frozen in place, you waiting to see if any of his relatives are going to walk in through the front door, and he frozen from fear.

A few more seconds pass, and nothing else happens. Jonathan shakily gets up from the bed, slowly walks to his bedroom door and opens it just a bit. His eyes land on the front door.

The tips of something he knows is newspaper peek from under the slit of the door.

He closes his door with a relieved sigh. “Oh my God. It was just the newspaper delivery. I thought it was going to be my mom.” He runs his hands through his hair with a hysterical giggle.

You laugh too. “Damn. Scared the hell out of me.”

“Me too.”

It seems like this cut off the moment you were having. Jonathan stands awkwardly at the door for some seconds. Then decides to go near the bed again, but doesn’t sit down.

“Um… I’m, like, totally spooked out right now.” But he says it like he’s apologetic about it. Like he doesn’t want this to stop.

You get up with an eager grin. He gives you that nervous little smile, looking at you from under his lashes. “I thought of something right now. That is, if you want, of course.” He nods as he keeps listening. “I thought that maybe… you can show me all of this,” and your hand points in the direction of the closed safe on the bed. “…uninterrupted. As much as you want… at mine?”

He makes a small embarrassed grunt. He covers his mouth to muffle a small giggle. “At your house?”, he asks, so demurely you want to eat him up.

“Yeah. If, of course, that’s okay with you.”

Jonathan doesn’t answer you right away, still looking like he’s gonna vibrate out of his skin. He walks the few steps towards the bed, opens the lid of the safe, and takes something small out of it. Slowly. Nervously.

“Ummm…” He shows you what it is. He speaks almost in a whisper. “Are we… going to need one of these?”

A condom.

Your eyes go half-lidded. The idea that he possibly wants to fuck, even though you haven’t gone past heavy kissing, is exhilarating. You have to collect yourself, since you don’t mean to drive home with an erection.

“Jonathan…” You crowd him against the wall next to his bedroom door. He drops the packet with a breathless moan. You kiss him long and heavy, feeling him squirm against you, feeling his rising heat. You withdraw and give him an intense look. “If you want.”

He moans against your neck. He breathes rapidly against it, trying to calm himself down, and then nods against your skin.

You run your fingers through his hair, on the back of his head. Then you softly grip those same locks to lift his head and have him look at you. “Good.”

It’s so close, a hair’s width kind of close to saying ‘good boy’, but you’re going to save that for later. Even now, he melts against your grip at that single word. Now he puts his hands on your shoulders, trying to focus better. “Okay, but, like… can you just… go and I’ll meet you there. In 20, maybe? I’ll have to call mom first and make up an excuse.”

You chuckle. “Sure.”

 

Jonathan comes out of the shower fifteen minutes later. He’s still the only person in the house, feeling sure that it wouldn’t be at least another hour until anyone arrived, but it was still the better idea to go to yours.

As he goes back into his room and retrieves the closed safe —this time having hid it behind his set of drawers where he always leaves it, he’s not making that mistake again— he stops when he has it in his hand. A wicked idea comes into his mind. He blushes as he begins unlocking the box.

 

 

You open your front door at the twenty minute mark, just as Jonathan said. There he is, all nervous smiles and fidgety hands, even though he clearly hopes it’s subtle. He has the safe box clutched in his right hand.

“Hey,” you greet him as you give him way into your home.

“Hi.” Jonathan tucks his chin into his chest. He’s just so cute to you.

As soon as you close the door, he’s onto you. You’re pleasantly surprised when he kisses you first now. You lean back against the door and hold the sides of his head in your hands. These same hands caress his hair. He melts into you within the kiss.

You pull back and point at the safe in his hand with a wolfish smile. “That looks heavy. Let me give you a hand?”

Jonathan does this little sound that tells you he’s embarrassed, but hands you the box over. He’s putting a lot of trust into you by letting you handle the most private part of his life, so you’re not going to disappoint him.

You take his hand with your free one, which makes him look like he’s melting with shyness, even though you have a literal safe full of his sex toys in your other hand, and guide him towards your room.

The moment you open the door, it seems like it dawns on Jonathan that you’re going to do this. His hand starts trembling in your grip.

You lift his hand until it’s under your mouth. You press a soft kiss on his knuckles, and he looks at you with shaky giddiness. “Still want to do this?”

Jonathan all but latches himself onto you, holding onto your side as his answer. He looks at you from under his lashes, almost like he’s fawning at you. So he’s just nervous but still excited. It’s a small relief, and you will do anything to keep him from toeing that fine line into outright distress. You softly grab his chin and press a small kiss on his lips. After, you guide him further into your room with this same grip, something that makes him give you the softest of giggles.

Once you’re in front of the bed, you gesture for him to get comfortable. Jonathan sits on your bed as you deposit the locked safe onto the mattress with the utmost care.

“I have to… unlock it first,” Jonathan says. He bites his lip to stifle a grin, his face already reddening some.

“Of course!” You turn around and make a show of covering your eyes with your hands.

He outright laughs this time. You hear the tinkle of small keys —he probably had them in his pockets, you muse—, some clacking noises that indicate a padlock opening, then two, and then three, and then soft clicking of tiny number dials being turned. Finally, a louder clack. The lid is open.

“Okay, you can turn around, now,” Jonathan says, amusedly.

You do, and a familiar sight of the many toys and objects inside the box greets you. There’s the things you’ve already seen: the dildo, the mags. Everything else.

Except… maybe…?

You have a fleeting, silly thought. You think, and this is so funny: you think there’s, like… something missing?

Hah. As if. You leave this ridiculous thought aside.

“Okay. Okay!” You sit down on your bed, next to the open safe, similar to the way you were some twenty minutes ago in his house.

He briefly covers his mouth with his hands, like he’s muffling a giggle. Hah. He’s so shy about telling you more, that’s for sure. That’s the only reason why he’s so giddy. Of course. “What… What would you like to know?”

You give him a hungry smirk. “Well… just the basics. You know? Like, what’s your favorite one, or, what’s the one you use the most?”

Jonathan covers his face with his hands for a short time. He looks like he’s biting his nails with one hand when he uses the other one to point at the bullet vibrator. “I… I use this one the most.” And then his hand hovers over the black silicone dildo. “But… I like this one the most.”

You lick your lips. Some conclusions are being drawn with what he’s saying. He likes the vibration, the movement the vibrator causes, because it’s the closest he might have to an unassisted penetration, perhaps? And he loves using the dildo, but doesn’t use it as much, because…?

“Oh. And, if you like this one the most,” you start, while you point at the dildo. “…why don’t you use it as much?”

His lips do a funny thing, like he’s barely containing a hysterical laugh. He exhales, and it comes out like a whine. “Um…” Jonathan runs his hands through his hair, so nervous to say it outloud. “Because… I don’t always have time to prepare enough for it.”

Hm… “Prepare, as in…?”

“Well.” He does start giggling at this point, clapping his hands once like he can’t believe he’s about to say this. You chuckle in sympathy, even though you don’t fully understand. “It’s just… so big.”

Whoa.

What.

“It’s… I need a lot of time… and prep…” He muffles his giggles behind his hands. “‘Cause, otherwise, it just won’t… fit.”

You think your mouth is open, but you can’t know for sure. First of all, you are already feeling a bit hot under the collar. Just Jonathan telling you this has to count as foreplay. Second of all…

The dildo is… well. You estimate it might be five inches at max, four and a half in length if you’re being more realistic. One and a half inches in diameter.

It’s just… it’s so cute that he thinks…

“Wh… What?”, Jonathan says, a bit shaky. “What is… cute?”

Oh, shit. You said that last part outloud, didn’t you. You lean over and peck him on the lips. “Nothing, baby. Nevermind.”

He does a little humming noise, like he’s parsing your implications, but seems to drop it. He goes back to watching over the objects. He bites the tip of his index finger when your hand hovers over the stack of loose photographs. They’re not simple polaroids or anything like that: they’re professional, artistic, developed photographs. You think Jonathan is so brave because of that. The thought that he’d be careful enough to stay in the darkroom for as long as the photos needed to be developed, not letting anyone else in and catch him in the act, is simply so endearing.

“Don’t think I’ve said it before, but these are amazing.” Your fingers hover over the top picture, the most visible one: the one where he’s tied up with the red rope. His arms are free to be able to hold the camera in front of the mirror; his legs are tied up around the thigh and ankle, so that he wouldn’t have been able to stand up. His bare cock is semi-hard in front in the picture. You wonder if he had touched himself beforehand, or if the simple act of being tied-up turns him on. “So hot.”

Jonathan puts a lock of his hair behind his ear. “You can… hold them, if you want. To see them.”

“Yeah?” You do just that. You grab the one you’ve seen before, the one where there’s just a cum splatter on wooden floor. “Bet you had a lot of fun with this one, didn’t you?”

Jonathan just covers his mouth with his hands. He’s so abashed, but he trusts you so much, trusts you enough to show this part of him. “Y-Yeah.”

“Hm. Wait. Is this blood?” You point at the picture in your hand, where there are thick red splatters next to the white ones.

“Oh, no. Not at all. It’s candle wax.”

“Ooh. Candles?”

He nods, shyly. “I ran out of candles, but my subject in this series was to show how suggestible a person might be to some images in terms of eroticism. Like, you just thought this was blood, but it’s actually wax. And you obviously knew this is… well…” He gets giggly for a second because he’s pointing to the white splatters and you know he’s going to say ‘cum’. “…and you were right, but another person might just think both of them are melted candle wax in different colors.”

He’s such a genius.

“And also these ones,” Jonathan continues, pulling out the photographs you’ve seen before, of close-ups of his bare body where only vague shapes could be distinguished. “…these are from the same series.”

“This is… your arm?”, you guess.

He bites his lip and nods. “Yeah. It’s supposed to be vague enough for people to not fully understand what they’re looking at, first. They might just think it’s abstract photography, or maybe just a texture.”

You hum. “These are very good, Jon. You’re a prodigy.”

Your praise has its intended effect. He laughs, abashed, trying to cover his face but always coming back to you. “Thank you,” is his whispered gratitude.

You notice he’s subtly trying to cross his legs on the bed. Hm…

“You know,” you start, nonchalantly, as your hand hover above the cassette, something that has him almost on the edge of his seat. “…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this one.”

God. The look on his face. Jonathan is so red he’s almost suffocating. Just you mentioning the tape leads him to shift on the bed, like he’s getting horny from the sole idea of you listening to it. “Y-Yeah?” It’s a muffled question; his hands are against his mouth.

“Yep,” you answer, so casually, like, yeah, of course I can’t stop thinking about you getting off to a man telling you how good you are. No big deal. “And, to be honest, it gave me quite a few ideas.”

Jonathan lowers his hands to his lap and fidgets with the rim of his sweater. His lips are pursed, like he wants to smile nervously. “Yeah?” It’s a whisper now.

“Yeah. Makes me think of how desperate you have to be to be someone’s good boy, enough to buy something like this.”

He exhales so loudly, so much so that it sounds like the beginning of a moan. At the same time, that simple fidgeting turns into him actually pulling the rim of his sweater down. To cover the small tenting of his pants.

You give him a heated glare to which he withers in lust. Reaching out, you lay a hand under his jaw. “Makes me think you wouldn’t need it anymore. Since you’ll have me here to tell you all those things.”

Jonathan looks wrecked. He closes his eyes, rubs his face against your hand, uses both of his to grab your wrist.

“What do you say?”, you ask, because you need verbal confirmation, even though he’s doing the equivalent of throwing himself at your feet by now.

He nods, so enthusiastically it pulls a chuckle out of you.

“Words, baby.”

He moans out loud. “Yes, Sir.”

He’s your ruin. You can’t do anything other than growl and bring him to your lips with a strong grip on his nape. He’s now moaning into the kiss, so filthily that you can feel it in your bones. You kiss him languidly, but it’s steamy; you all but force his jaw to open with your thumb on his chin and press your tongue into his mouth. The effect is immediate. He invites you in, gives you nervous caresses of his tongue that are wholly eclipsed by the dominion yours has on his. Throughout this time he’s never stopped shifting in his place, close to vibrating out of his skin, if it weren’t for your strong grip on his nape, keeping him in place. Keeping him behaved.

You pull out and he takes a deep breath at once.

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong, Jonathan,” you grunt against his lips. “…but I get the impression that you’ve been wanting this for a long, very long time, if all of this stuff is any indication.” You gesture towards the open safe between you, below you.

He nods quickly in your grip. “Yes! Yes, I can’t— can’t stop thinking about it. About…” He seems to get abashed. “I wouldn’t— mind if—”

“If…?” You give his lower lip a small bite.

Jonathan gasps before resuming. “Like— I know i-it’s my first time in— you know— but, l-like…” He breathes quickly when you kiss the corner of his lips, his cheek, his temple. “…like… I’ve always… had this…”

His red-faced silence urges you to give him encouragement. “This… ‘fantasy’?”

“Oh my God,” and he starts laughing nervously, because you’re right, because you’re so attuned to him he can’t believe it. “Y-Yeah. Well— It’s— Um… Where it— wouldn’t be…”

You hum in interrogation.

“Oh my God are you gonna make me say it.” You chuckle at this rushed mumble of his, and he answers in kind. “Um… I’m trying to say th-that… I wouldn’t mind if— if you weren’t… gentle.”

This is Hell. This is Hell and Heaven in the same place. Does Jonathan have any idea of what he’s unleashed? He’s just basically revealed that he wants you to be rough with him on his first time bottoming. And, for the love of God, isn’t that a vision. This shy, inexperienced —at least in this aspect— boy wants you to have your way with him, like the secret little pervert you’ve found he is, thanks to the safe full of literal sex toys right under you both. This fantasy of his is just so in tune to yours that you want nothing more than to fulfill it.

But.

There’s a problem. A little problem with this.

You kiss him shortly, and walk around the safe until you’re kneeling in front of him, between his legs on the bed. He has to look up from under his lashes. You caress his neck with both hands and he seems to melt against you.

“Babe. You have no idea how much I want that.” Jonathan trembles in your hands. “But… we’re gonna need a lot of lube and prep.”

“Sure, yeah. Of course. I know.” But does he know? You think he’s not exactly aware of how much you’re implying with this, but before you can open your mouth, he beats you to it. “I just— need to grab. It. The lube.” He reaches to the side and grabs one of the two tubes of lubricant in his safe. The neutral one. “And… well… Just… get prepared.” He starts giggling like he just said something extremely funny, and you can’t help but join in. “But… I need to see what I’m working with, first, i-if you know what I mean.” Jonathan puts as much enticement in his voice and face as he can, even as he stutters his way through it.

This is the part you were worried about. You just don’t know how he’s going to react when he sees it. Even then, you start undoing your pants, slowly, his giddiness beating his nervousness now. “Okay, sweetheart. But maybe you should let me ease you into it—”

“Don’t worry about that,” he rushes to say, putting his own hands on yours, helping you undo the button and flyer with shaking hands. “Sorry I’m so eager. I just… can’t stop thinking about it.” He hooks the fingers of both hands under your underwear and starts pulling down as he keeps rambling. “Like, I’m… sort of dying for it? And you know it since you can see all the things I have here, and I’m always kind of ready, and— w-well, um…”

His voice dies down as your cock is revealed. Here’s the point where he’s completely silent, just staring at it, mouth open as if in wonder. Or maybe horror.

Because the thing about this particular fantasy of his, of wanting to have his virginity just ripped out of him, can’t be entirely possible without a good amount of pain now that he knows how big you are.

“Ah…?” Jonathan stares at it with a terrified smile. Then looks up at you. Gestures at your member with a loose finger, looks at it again. “H-How… Is it r-real?”

You give him a sympathetic half-smile, half-grimace. “It’s— Yeah. It’s very real. Unfortunately.”

Is it bad news that he doesn’t have a giddy comeback for that? Just silence?

“Look, Jon, we don’t have to do this anymore. We can just… I don’t know. Play a bit, if you want. Not do anything at all—”

“No, no, no, no. None of that. I just…” He seems to compose himself a little bit. Exhales a small laugh. “I needed… a second, back there. Sorry for— that. I still— you know. Maybe you’re right.” Jonathan’s hands nervously reach the sides of your cock, not laying on it yet. “We need. A lot of prep.”

You notice his eagerness and take his hands in yours, guiding them until they’re wrapped around your cock.

He exhales so shakily. He can’t even fully close his fingers around your member.

“You sure you want to?”, you have to ask, because he’s just so small compared to you. You’re so afraid of hurting him —in a bad way. In a way he doesn’t want.

He bites his lip as he nods. Then, as his face turns a darker shade of pink, he starts getting the most sly look on his face. You narrow your eyes playfully, attempting to understand what he’s trying to convey. His small hands on your cock rub up and down, slowly, the strokes a bit dry without lube but a nice feel nonetheless.

“Okay,” you say. “Gonna need a lot of lube for this, yeah?”

He nods again. Doesn’t speak, even though he looks like he wants to say something, but keeps it down.

You hum, and narrow your eyes again. “Okay?” You start leaning forwards, almost forcing him to start leaning back until he’s lying on the bed, his hands leaving your cock to aid himself.

He nods once more, this time frantically. He makes a small squeak when he feels the hot imprint of your big cock on his clothed thigh.

“Then…” You kiss him deliberately. His hands grab your shoulders. You withdraw after some few seconds. After you quickly take off his sweater and shirt at the same time, you’re back to lying on top of him fully. “I’m gonna need to see what I’m working with, first, don’t you think?”, you mumble against his lips, echoing what he said first.

Here’s when he starts shifting more in place. He appears to be eager, but holding back for something. Jonathan’s expression is one of heavy anticipation. His breathing is deep, ready for you. Even so, he nods one last time.

You kneel back up and start undoing his pants. Jonathan lies back on his arms, his legs slightly shifting in place. You give him a sly look that pins him in place, makes him so hot under the collar, and begin lowering his boxers just until his cock starts to show. He giggles, nervously, airily, and you can’t help but join in.

He whines in between his soft laughter. “Don’t laugh, okay? I know it’s small.”

He’s so pouty about this that you can’t help but lean forward and steal a short kiss from him. “Now, why would I laugh about that? Like it wouldn’t be one of the hottest things from you.” Your hands finally uncover his hard cock while he’s sputtering at what you’ve just said.

And it is hot. It is hot to you that Jonathan is simply so small compared to you, in every aspect. His cock is just perfect, would fit like a dream in your big hand. So you try just that.

Jonathan flails in the bed when he feels your fist enclosing around his member. He can’t help but thrust up into it repeatedly, all the while crying out at how good it feels.

But you’re mean to him. You use your other hand to hold his hips down, and your strength is too great for him to handle. He realizes he’s fully immobilized when he tries to push his hips up and can’t move even an inch. This sole fact makes him swoon, turns him into mush on your mattress, and he stops trying. Lets you be the one to lead the —slow, agonic— pace of your hand on his cock. It’s a thing of beauty: your hand is big enough to completely envelop his cock. The visual is so powerful that you feel your own throbbing hotly.

“Good boy.”

He moans so desperately this time, because it’s what he’s been dying for all along. It’s the first time you call him that.

“Yeah? You like being a good boy and staying still for me?”

He nods so quickly his hair shifts in place. “Yes. Yes, Sir.” Jonathan seems to realize that he just said this, and covers his mouth with both hands. He looks so abashed.

So you encourage him. “Such a good boy for me, calling me ‘Sir’. Don’t be ashamed now, gorgeous. You did it once already.”

Jonathan seems even more agitated by this. “I did?!”

He’s adorable. You hum in response. “Yes. So don’t get shy on me. Be nice and I’ll give you everything you need.”

His face does something so obscene now. His eyes cross and he lies down completely, moaning like he’s already coming, except he’s not. You’re afraid he might be too close, so you slowly pull your closed fist off him. His moan breaks in the middle of it, and you moan in response, almost mocking him as it ends in a small chuckle.

“Come on. I still need to see what I’ll be working with, yeah?”

It’s like the moment is slightly broken as soon as you say this. He nods, but is quiet now.

You lie on top of him, covering his body with yours, and it seems like he finds the height difference so utterly hot that he can’t help but release a little titter. You smile at him fondly. Now his arms encircle your shoulders, and you meet his lips in the middle, so slowly and softly that he turns into mush. While your left arm goes around his neck, both to hold him and to keep yourself up, your right hand starts the descent down his bare back, teasingly, loving every minuscule writhing it feels as it goes. Calloused fingertips caress his spine, the dimples on his lower back, then go right under his underwear beneath his pants. Jonathan whines as your big hand takes hold of his left cheek, fondling it almost roughly, and the thought is simply too much for him. He pulls off the kiss and hides his face in the crook of your neck, almost sobbing with how much he’s feeling.

Your fingers approach the place you’ve been looking for all this time. Except…

You feel something hard. Something flat and wide where his entrance should be, and you immediately know what it is.

“Jonathan.”

He pulls off your neck just the tiniest bit, only to look at you with a mortified look, as you said it so strongly, almost like you were reprimanding him.

But he’s turning you feral, so you grab his hips to quickly turn him around and have him face down while he yelps. You hold his hips up as he’s too dumbfounded to react yet and pull down his pants and underwear, only down to his thighs and he can do no more than cover his face with his hands.

There’s the metal buttplug in all its glory.

“I knew it! I knew there was something missing in the box!” The visual is so stunning. To know that he’s been wearing this all this time…

Jonathan whines like a kicked puppy. “I-Is it too much? I’m sorry, I thought you would like—”

“Oh, no, no, baby. This is just perfect. Feel.” You lay your hard, throbbing cock on his right asscheek and he makes a sound like he’s drowning. “Can you feel how hard you made me? You’re such a good boy, Jon. Got ready for me without me having to tell you.”

Jonathan moans almost like he’s yelling, then presses his face against the bed.

You lie on top of his back, your chest molding over it. “It means it won’t take too long to fit my cock in you,” you all but growl next to his ear, and he sobs. Your right hand grabs the base of the plug, and even that little thing has him wailing. “You know, I gotta ‘fess up. Some minutes ago I was about to say ‘It’s cute that you think this is big’.”

“Oh my God!”

“Yeah! I was just as shocked,” you say conversationally as you twist the plug in him, his feet kicking up and down the bed. “I thought, ‘does he really think this is big? Oh boy, what’s he gonna say when he sees my cock?’”

Jonathan’s response is a warbled, unintelligible noise.

“Let me see just how ready you are.” Your fingers start pulling the buttplug out, and he’s wailing and thrashing on the bed as you do. You’re probably the first person to anally stimulate him, and you know just how sensitive the first time can be. “Now, be a good boy and stop moving, yeah?”

His movements halt to a stop, though he’s clearly shaking, like it’s a huge effort for him.

“That’s a good boy. So good, Jonathan. So obedient.”

Jonathan’s response is a wet, “Thank you, Sir.”

“So polite, too. Let me see.” You pull the buttplug out until the widest part is stretching his entrance, something that makes him whimper and have to try even harder to not move. “Hm. This is a good size. Perfect to stretch you just wide enough for your favorite dildo, isn’t it? Tell me.”

The boy under you takes deep, whining breaths, trying to calm himself down, before understanding he’s been given an order. “Y-Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy.” You pull the plug out even more, but push it in back, slowly, then back and forward again, creating a short rhythm that has Jonathan scrambling for a grip on the bed. “Let’s see how open you are.”

“Fuck!” Your words have him cursing out in ecstasy, but he then quickly recants. “I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Oh, Jonny. No need to apologize for that. So fucking hot when you curse.” You take the plug out as he whines, and leave it to the side. He’s stretched open, enough that you think you could fit the dildo, or two, maybe three of your fingers.

Still. Not open enough for you.

Your thumbs open his hole, making him clench around nothing. “You’re a good boy, baby. You did so much already. Can you stay good for me and let me stretch you more?”

“More?!”

You cackle. “Yes, sweetness. This is obviously not enough for my cock. I might hurt you if I fucked you as you are right now.” It seems like either your words alone or the situation in general make his legs stop working. He starts slipping down, almost collapsing on the bed, before you hold him up with your right arm. “Oh, what’s wrong, baby? Too much?”

“N-No— No, sorry, Sir. I’ll be g-good. Please stretch m-me more.”

You give him a low chuckle. “You are being good. Let me help you.” You stretch your left arm and grab the pillow in your bed, folding it in half to double its height. It goes under his hips now. “Lie down on it.” Jonathan obeys, but it’s obvious that he’s now incidentally found a place to rut his leaking cock against, because he moans so brokenly, but stills immediately. You decide to ignore this for the moment. “Better?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

You stretch until your face is near Jonathan’s and you give him a chaste kiss on the lips. “Good.”

After this, you kneel up and turn your body around to look through the contents of his safe. Jonathan feels cold without your contact, but stays in his place.

“Will you let me use your favorite one?”, you ask him, pointing at the black dildo in the safe.

He has to turn his head a bit to see you, but bites his lip and nods. It seems like he’s a bit abashed now, because he doesn’t call you ‘Sir’ and rather hides his face in the bed while giggling this time, but this is not a conventional scene, so you don’t tell him off.

You just chuckle in sympathy. “Okay. Do you want me to use your lube?”

He struggles to talk, sounding muffled in the mattress, but then lifts his face up. “Wh-Whatever you find best, Sir.”

“That’s right,” you growl at him, fondling his ass and rubbing at his hole with your thumb. “Leave it to me.”

You take a condom from his safe and leave it to the side, next to the lube that’s already on the bed. Next, you take off your shirt, throw it somewhere around the floor, and start taking off Jonathan’s lower clothes. Once he’s completely bare, you pull off your own remaining ones until you’re both naked.

“Alright. This is what’s gonna happen,” you start, the authority in your voice leaving no place for argument, and Jonathan exhales shakily. “I’m gonna use this dildo in you, just to get you used to the feeling of a real man’s cock.” You rub the tip of the silicone dildo up and down his stretched hole, to which Jonathan whines. “Then, I’m gonna start adding fingers next to the dildo, so I can get you nice and open enough for my cock.” Your free hand fondles his right asscheek. “Then I’m gonna finger you a bit more, just because I feel like it. And then I’m going to fuck you.” Jonathan can’t hold back and moans as he tries to get more of your hand. “Sound good?”

“Yes, Sir. Yes, yes, please, fuck me.”

You chuckle. “Eager.” You hold the dildo up. “You want me to use a condom on this?”

“Yes, please.”

Your face lowers to his ass and you leave a wet kiss on the cheek you were just fondling. “Good boy.” You reach out to grab another spare condom from the safe. You open it and lower it down the dildo. Then, you find the lube and spread it liberally on the sheathed toy. The tip of the tube goes on his ass, and you press on the tube to let some lube out. He flinches from the feel of it, and you chuckle. “Cold?” Jonathan nods, meekly. You close the lube, and leave it to the side for now.

Now, you hold the lubed dildo against his entrance, rubbing it around and softly pressing down to spread the lube.

“Ready?”

Jonathan nods and hides his face in the bed. He grabs the sheets for good measure.

The tip of the dildo goes in without much trouble, since he’s already stretched a good amount, but the way he clenches down repeatedly and moans is just so sinful.

“Oh, God. Sir.”

“Feels good?”

He nods quickly. “C-Can you put more in, please?”

Now you stretch over him and bite his nape. “Of course.” You push the rest of the dildo in him, slowly, but you think you could have done it all at once, since he takes it so nicely. The base of the dildo is flat and wide, easy to maneuver and push fully against his ass. “‘This a suction cup?”

“A-Ah… y-yes, Sir. Somet-times I like r-riding it.”

“That’s so fucking hot, Jonny. Maybe I’ll have you ride me sometime. How’s that sound?” You start pulling the dildo back, and then quickly push it in him.

He moans. “Y-Yes— Sounds s-so good, S-Sir.”

You lick a stripe up his spine to his nape, enjoying the unintelligible blubber he makes and the shiver of his body. “Good.”

You can only thrust in a few couple of times, receiving steamy moans from your boy every time, until he says: “Please! Stretch me m-more, Sir.”

“You want it now? But I was so entertained with this—”

“Please please please please Sir I need it.” His hips push the tiniest bit towards your hand.

“Oh, you got it so bad. Well. I guess I could,” you answer, like it’s a huge effort for you to give him this. Your right hand grabs the lube, opens it, and you expertly pour some on the same fingers that are holding the tube. Then you close it and leave it to the side. You rub your fingers together to spread the liquid better. Your left hand pulls the dildo out just a frame, enough for your right index finger to be able to press on his stretched rim, right under the dildo. “Just relax for me, baby.”

You let him take a deep breath before you start pressing down with force. Your fingertip starts opening his ass more, until it’s down to the first knuckle, then the second, and as Jonathan starts wailing and his feet moving frantically, you manage to fit the entirety of your index finger.

“Take a deep breath. That’s it. Just like that.” You soothe him and he complies. “You’re being so good for me. How does this feel? Hurts?”

“N-No, Sir. Just… different. Good.”

“Yeah, I bet it does. I’m gonna stretch you open so much, gonna make you feel so good on my cock.” He moans so loudly at that. “Only pleasure for you, sweetness. No pain.” You start moving both the dildo and your finger in and almost completely out of him in tandem.

“I— ahhh— I don’t m-mind a bit of—”

“Oh, yeah? You like a little pain? That mean I can fit another finger right now?” Your middle finger teases his rim, and his legs shake.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

So you begin pushing in the second finger, knowing it has to, at the very least, sting a bit, not having let him get used to the first finger yet. This time, it’s a tighter fit. The trembling in his body is almost frenetic at this point. He doesn’t know whether he wants you to keep going or stop, but you don’t give him a moment of respite until your second finger is all the way in.

He breathes in like he was just about to drown.

“Still good?”

This time, he takes a bit longer to answer. Some seconds pass until he nods, though it’s a more hesitant gesture now. The thumb of your right hand soothes the skin around his rim. Jonathan deserves a reward for being so good, so your thumb presses down against his perineum.

He screams.

“‘You ever done that? Play with your prostate from the outside?”

Jonathan moans like he’s crying and shakes his head.

You give him a small external massage on that place while you start a rhythm with both hands, in and out of him. Not much time passes until he no longer feels strung out, moaning freely and relaxing against the bed. Even now, as hard as he is and as much as you know he wants stimulation on his leaking cock, he hasn’t pressed himself against the pillow even once. He’s so obedient. You have no idea how you got so lucky.

You give him more of this, until he starts pushing back at you, just a minimum fraction. “C-Can you put another, Sir?”

“Of course, baby.” The ring finger is going to be the last one, you think. He’ll be sufficiently stretched after it, only enough to fit your cock but not too much. That way, he’ll truly feel the stretch, which is what you know he wants. So you start entering your last finger next to the ones already in, and this time, it’s a true challenge. There’s almost no more room. Not even the fingertip can be let in. “I’m gonna need you to relax more, sweetness. Can you do that for me? Can you be a good boy for me again?”

He’s breathing so noisily. He takes some seconds to try that before nodding. You press forward again, though not much changes.

“Try to push out a bit, yeah?”

“‘Push out’?!” He’s so scandalized at that that he laughs nervously, but still does as he’s told.

You’re now able to enter him better. The slide is difficult, made only a tad easier by the lube, and you manage to fit your finger bit by painstaking bit, until you have three fingers in him alongside the dildo.

Jonathan starts sobbing.

“Oh, Jon. Hurts too much?”

He can’t even answer. He’s so overwhelmed that he has to press his face against the bed to compose himself. “N-No,” is his hoarse answer. “I l-love it. I just… feel so full.”

“Yeah? You sure?” Your thumb gives him some stimulation. “Should I keep going?”

“Y-Yes, please. Sir. Yes, Sir.”

“That’s my boy.” You start a slow pace, still letting him get used to this. Jonathan’s hands grip the bedsheets on the sides of his head. His legs fold and shake, like he can’t control them. “You’re an angel. So obedient.”

He keens at the praise.

“So pretty when you cry, too. You’d make the best picture right now.”

“Oh my God.”

“Don’t you think? I imagine you could bring the camera next time and you could take pictures of yourself, crying as I’m fucking you.” You chuckle. “I mean, if you’re coherent enough.”

He does the most pornographic sound now, like he’s an animal in heat. “Fuck me. Fuck me, Sir. Please.”

The state he’s in is simply too good for the eyes. You grunt as you rub your untouched cock against his thigh, leaving a trail of precum on it. He makes a little trill when he feels it. “You sure you’re ready?”

“Yes, Sir. N-Need your cock. Need you t-to fuck me hard.”

You try to calm down and appear nonchalant. “Hmm…” You start pulling out the dildo and your fingers at the same time. He yelps, sounding almost pained when he’s empty. “I thought I was calling the shots here. I remember saying I would play a bit more after this.” With that, you press four fingers in him, an easy slide now that he’s so stretched, and start a ruthless pace in and out of him.

He screams so loudly, so high-pitched, that you’re almost afraid he’ll be hoarse by the end of this. “N-Noooo— please— Sir, I n-need—!”

You lay your left hand on his left cheek, not hard enough to slap, but hard enough for it to count as a tap, and he gasps. “I’ll give you what you need, boy. Now stay still.”

“Y-Yes— sorry, S-Sir. Th-Thank you, Sir.” Jonathan stills as much as he can, still loudly crying. The tears that roll down his cheeks make him look so debauched.

“My good boy.” Your fingertips press harshly against that bundle of nerves, and this has him thrashing for a second until your other hand gropes him hard, and he keeps still once more, but it’s a huge effort now. It’s a fast pace against his prostate now. You intend to have him beg for your cock even more before you cave in, but until then, you’re going to have your fun. You push out and pull in, fast and hard enough for his body to jiggle and for your fingers to tap his prostate hard.

He cries so much, whines like he’s being denied something. “Ah— Sir, I-I’m gonna come t-too soon— if y-you— keep—”

“Yeah? Ever come just from this? From playing with your prostate?”

He shakes his head, making small pleas here and there.

“Fucking hot. I bet I could make you cum on my cock alone.” Jonathan yells when he hears that.

You quickly pull your fingers out before he can start clenching repeatedly. He makes a shrill noise.

Your hands spread him. “Look at how wet and open you are for me. Did such a good job letting me in.”

And he cries so hard now. “Please!”

“It’s okay, baby. You did so good. You deserve a reward.” You wipe your wet hand on the sheets and grab the remaining condom. After tearing it open as quickly as you can and rolling it on your hard cock, you pour some of the lube. Then, you lay the length of your sheathed cock in-between his cheeks. “Feel how different this is. Very warm, right? Unlike your little dildo here. And so big, too.”

Jonathan moans so desperately, his words —if they can be considered that— unintelligible.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good. Gonna ruin you for all these toys of yours.”

“Oh my G— oh my God.”

You press the tip of your cock against his stretched entrance. Immediately, his hands reach back, looking for yours. You take his hands and stroke them. “Nervous?”

He takes deep breaths before answering. “Y-Yes.”

“I’m gonna start very slow, so don’t worry.”

“I-It’s— it’s not that. It’s— okay— you can g-go f—”

“You want me to go fast?” One of your hands, your right one, gives his own one last caress and you then grab your member. “Let’s just start slowly, yeah? Then we’ll see.”

Jonathan has nothing to say to that, because in the next moment, you start pushing in, easily, up to a certain point. He starts breathing in and out frenetically, almost to the point of hyperventilation, when the last of your head struggles to push in. He wails, he sobs, his legs kick against the bed, and he holds onto your left hand like it’s his lifeline. “Hurts.”

“Yeah? Should we stop?” Your right hand strokes along his back, trying to soothe him.

“N-No, I l-like it. More. Please.”

You chuckle. “Who knew you were such a size queen, Jon?” You don’t give him time to get used, then. Pushing forward more and more, you find he tries to push out at the same time, just like you’ve told him little time ago. Even that seems to only help him minimally. He grunts at the effort of fitting such a big cock in him. “Almost there, sweetheart.” You start giving him short thrusts, in and out, trying to get him acclimated.

“S-So full. So full, Sir.”

“I know, baby. I know.” Your short thrusts go further each time, until there’s only a very short space until you bottom out.

Jonathan’s left hand grabs onto yours strongly, but he’s pushing you to him now.

“Oh, you want all of it?”

With one forceful thrust, you bury yourself in him entirely.

Jonathan’s sound is undescribable. He sounds like he’s crying, babbling something, and choking at the same time. His body seems to lose all its strength, because he all but collapses on the bed in his position; the only reason why he’s still up is because of the pillow under him and your left hand grabbing his.

You’re afraid he might have passed out.

“Jon?” You shake his shoulder with your right hand.

He makes the most fantastic noise in response. It’s something so vulgar, so raspy, and it almost sounds like he’s gone stupid with pleasure.

You can’t help but chuckle. “Feel good? Doesn’t hurt?”

Jonathan doesn’t answer verbally at first. He makes sounds as if he were drawing in as much breath as he can, and then answers: “Uh-huh.”

“Gonna need words, sweetness. What does that mean?” You’re so amused at him, and at the same time think he’s the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

His left hand, which has sort of gone slack on yours, moves to let you know he’s not completely out of it. “It’s. G-Good. Hurts s-so good.” Before you can answer, he continues. “W-Want you to fuck m-me fast. Please.”

“Fuck, baby. You sure you can take it?”

“Y-Yes— I like n-not taking… not taking time when I…”

“Oh, I get it now.” Immediately, you pull back, and push in forcefully, making him scream. You start a fast pace right away as he thrashes as much as he can. “What a little pervert you are, Jon. You like pain,” a strong thrust, “…you like it big,” another even stronger one, “…and you’re so greedy you can’t even wait for it.” The force of your thrusts create loud slapping noises against his ass, only rivalled by his screams. “It’s like I got the fucking lottery, here.”

The fact that Jonathan didn’t want to get used to the size of your cock makes the beginning part of this so much more exerting. It feels like his nerve endings are on fire, and everything feels so much, overwhelming. He’s crying so loud it’s almost worrying, but he loves every second of this. Loves having to work to fit such a big member in him, have it fuck him so deeply, unlike any of his toys ever could. The searing heat of your cock has tears falling down his face. And the friction is undescribable. It almost feels like he’s not prepared enough, not lubed enough, but he is. He’s just too small in comparison to you, not made to fit something so big in him. But his hard work is paying off, because his insides keep stretching more and more with every thrust given into him, opening him so much that he feels as if you were carving your place into him.

“So fucking pretty when you cry, too.”

Jonathan moans desperately when he hears your praise. He’s so sensitive to it, even the smallest nice words can have him leaking more onto the pillow.

And then, in one of those thrusts, your cock presses down against his prostate.

“Sir!” He shouts it so loudly. “Again again please again.”

“That place feel good?” You don’t give him what he wants in its entirety. You start fucking against his prostate in random intervals, only enough to keep him on his toes, but not enough to overwhelm him. “Damn, Jonathan. I’m so deep in you, stretching you so much, I can feel it. You’re gonna be gaping so bad after this.”

For some reason, that’s his breaking point. He shocks himself with the way he’s suddenly cumming so hard against the pillow, untouched, while you struggle to keep fucking him through his clenching.

“Already? That’s so fucking hot, Jon,” you grunt as you start slowing your thrusts, but he shocks you with what he says.

“D-Don’t stop— please— don’t st-stop.”

You chuckle. “Y’sure? It’ll take a bit more for me, baby.” You continue your hard thrusts, not slowing down even a minimum fraction while he’s still in the last throes of his orgasm.

You know he’s done cumming when his moans start turning into desperate yells. When every single second of friction has him thrashing and screaming against you, you decide to test the waters. You lie fully on top of him, covering his chest with your back, opting to give him short, quick thrusts that dig deep into him.

“Come on. You wanted this, didn’t you?” Your cock inadvertently presses against his prostate without you meaning to, and his crying gets louder and more desperate. “Didn’t you?”, you have to repeat, just in case he’s about to regret it.

“Ah—! Y-Yes, Sir. I l-love it.”

“Yeah? You like when I use you?”

At that, Jonathan can do no more than wail and have his body try to curl in itself, unable to take the overwhelming sensations. “Yes! Please, u-use me, S-Sir. I’m y— I’m your t-toy!”

He’s going to be your ruin. Quickly, you encircle his torso with your arms and lift him so that he’s sitting up with you. “Hold onto my neck.” He’s so out of it that he doesn’t understand the order until you’re gathering his legs with your arms, hooking them on the juncture of your elbows, and then standing up, lifting him and dropping him on your cock while he scrambles for purchase on your neck.

“Oh my God.”

Your arms, still holding his legs, slide up his body until your hands manage to hook against his nape, and he’s now in such a vulgar position it could very well appear in the raunchiest of skin mags. Once he understands that he’s about to be fucked like this, in such a helpless position, he sobs even harder.

“Sir.”

[IMAGE - WARNING: 18+]

You fuck up into him harshly, keeping him in place with your strong grip, though the jostling of your thrusts moves him up a slight fraction. Jonathan’s hands scramble for a grip on your arms this time, feeling how deep this position allows you to reach. His eyes roll back with every strong push, feeling how it pushes against the deepest part of him, a pressure so intense it’s almost painful against the end of his walls. He feels almost as if you were thrusting right into his stomach with how big you are. And he wails when most of your thrusts push against his prostate. The frequency with which you’re stimulating it is too much for him, pushes him closer and closer to delirium the more time that passes.

You don’t talk now, too engrossed in witnessing Jonathan losing his sanity, even if you can’t see his face. It’s so hot to see how he doesn’t sob that much anymore, rather starts moaning, fully accustomed to your cock now. You hold him tighter against you and give him a short, quicker pistoning of your cock, and the gradual change is almost unbearable: his moans turn into high-pitched whines, then into simple gasps, and then.

And then he starts making noises that sound as if he were giggling. Laughing even.

“Oh, my boy,” you grunt near his ear, because you’re getting close, and then chuckle. “You’re losing it.”

The euphoria in Jonathan’s face will be unforgettable for sure. He’s simply so debauched, eyes rolling back and almost drooling from the overwhelming feelings. His hands barely holding onto your arms, since his strength is weaning. But he’s coherent enough to rasp out: “In me. C-Come in— me, S-Sir. W-Want you to c-cum inside. Want t-to cum with you.”

His words have you fucking him so roughly now that his previous loud moaning resumes. You’re almost there. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up even more?” It’s all useless talk since you have a condom on, but the visual is so stunning you can’t help but add fuel to the fire.

Jonathan can’t even speak from how stimulated he is, but he doesn’t need to. The crazed laugh he releases at your words is more than enough answer.

“Yeah, you do.” Your thrusts turn erratic. You growl at his ear. “Now, be a good boy and come.”

Almost as if on command, Jonathan’s body seizes, and something truly spectacular happens. He comes, he comes so hard that his mouth is open on a silent scream, and he comes so hard that he starts— convulsing in your grip, thrown into a full-body orgasm that almost pushes him off you.

His repetitive clenching is enough to push you to the edge. You fill the condom inside him as your thrusts halt in small bursts, all while grunting right into his ear.

His erratic movements are so prolonged, so intense that you’re worried about him, so you sit on the edge of the bed, then lie down, taking him with you as you do and lower his legs as softly as you can. Then, he stops.

His body goes fully lax against you just as the last of your orgasm ends.

“Jon?” You take his face in your right hand, unable to see him in this angle. You pull out of him with him still on top of you, and he doesn’t even make a noise, doesn’t move a single muscle. You lay him on the bed next to you and crawl until you’re face to face with him.

Right in that moment, he regains consciousness, coming to with a high-pitched gasp. He looks disoriented for a second.

“Damn, you worried me for a second, Jonny.”

He’d make the prettiest picture just like this. Debauched, clearly just fucked, hair messed up, tear trails down his cheeks. “H-How long—”

“Just a second, sweetheart.”

Jonathan relaxes against the bed, breathing deeply, until he regains his footing. Then, he smiles at you. “Thank you, Sir.”

You chuckle at him, and lie next to him, holding him close to you. “Why are you thanking me?”

It seems like he regains some of his bearings, because he gets shy again, and presses his face against your chest. “I dunno,” he mumbles against your skin.

He’s so precious. Only he could get this abashed right after the most obscene sex ever had.

“You were right. You ruined me for anything else. How am I supposed to use these now?” He vaguely gestures at the open safe you had totally forgotten was still on the bed.

You laugh out loud. “Well. It’s a good thing you’re not gonna need them anymore. Not when you have me.”

The cassette is ASMR, but I didn’t want to use that acronym specifically because I read that ASMR was invented around 2010.

And yes I put Jonathan in a full nelson in the end.

#stranger things x male reader #jonathan byers x male reader #top male reader #fanfic

[thedevilrisen]

Trust Me Mate

Jack Hughes x Y/N

Description: Based on the song 'Trust me mate' by Dean Lewis.

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Would be greatly appreciated if you could reblog. I love talking to people so say Hi if you want to. Feel Free to send in requests as well. I'm happy to write for most hockey players.

Warnings: Alcohol, Throwing up - I think that's it ( let me know if I missed more.)

-Sincerely thedevilrisen.

you’re pulling out your cigarette

you bring it up toward your lips

you breathe and push the smoke away just like you do with all your friends

I rapped my knuckles against the door three times, underneath the gold 126 plaque helping anyone unknown find this apartment. I wasn’t unknown though, I’ve been here hundreds of times, walked up the 13 flights of stairs for three months straight when the elevator broke to get here.  The dull thud of footsteps alerted me to the fact that you were coming to the door. The gentle click of the lock and opening of the door as far as the chain allowed me to get my first glimpse of her face in a month. 

“Can you let me in please.” I asked. She shut the door, I heard the slide of the chain bolt and then the door opened fully revealing her.

“Jack.  What are you doing here?” she whispered exasperated, moving to the side to let me into her dark apartment.

“I haven’t heard from you in a month Y/N.” I spoke examining her apartment as we walked further in, “I’ve been worried about you.”

“Well I’m fine Jack. Now if that’s all you’ve come to do, you can leave.” she concluded.  Crossing her arms across her chest. Why are you self-conscious around me, Y/N? I thought. 

“I left my good water bottle in your room the last time I was here. I’m just going to go get it.” I whispered, looking down as I made my way down the hallway to her room.

your room is messy and full of clothes

the curtains drawn, the Windows closed.

when did the person that i loved turn into someone i don't know

Stepping over clothes, and empty alcohol bottles strewn across the room I made my way to the wooden dresser where my water bottle is perched on the corner. All the photos that normally sit proudly on top of the dresser drawers were laid face down, draws half opened with clothes half falling out of some and an overflowing hamper basket that looks like it has a month's worth of laundry piled in it. Dust had piled on the window sills and the metal slats of the blinds. 

“Jack, stop snooping!” she shouted, voice wavering, tears brimming her eyes. “Get your water bottle and go!” 

“Y/N..” I mumbled

i say it's time we have to talk

“No Jack!” she shouted again, silent tears running down her cheek as she walked out of her room. “We don’t need to!”

you make a move towards the door and you deny there's anything to hide or answer for

you say, ‘I don't don't want you in my place just get the fuck out of my face’

“No Y/N! I’m not leaving you like this!” I yelled back, stepping back and running a hand down my face.

“Please Jack, just leave me be. I’m fine I promise.” she begged, hands clasped at her chest. 

“Fine.” I grit out through my teeth, reaching for the door. “Bye Y/N.”

“Bye!” she returned angrily.

but I won't give up so easy 'cause I know you'd do the same

DING. The elevator doors opened and I walked in, pressing the 13 and watching as the doors closed and the numbers on the screen above the panel changed,  counting as they went up, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13. The doors hummed as they opened letting me walk down the all too familiar hallway, patting my back pocket to make sure I brought the spare key I had to her apartment with me just in case she wouldn’t let me in, my other hand had the paper handles of a shopping bag filled with goodies dangling from my fingers. 

126, the gleaming numbers shone back at me, my left hand raising to the door and hitting my knuckles against the wood three times. Just like always. Waiting for a minute or so before knocking again. Anxiously waiting on a response as the minutes passed by, I continued staring at the gilded numbers. “Fuck this.” I mumbled, reaching around and pulling the silver key out of my back pocket and fumbling to slot it into the lock. CLICK. “Success!” I whispered, pushing the door open tentatively, taking a step inside the still darkened apartment. “Y/N?” I questioned into the eerie silence. “I know you didn’t want me here, but I can’t leave you like this. Y/N?” Moving toward her room and opening the door, light was coming from the bathroom along with sounds of gut-wrenching sobs and heaving. Dropping the bag I had clutched in my hand and rushing to the door, pushing it open and reclining at the sight before me. Y/N curled up on the cold tile floor of the shower, sobbing and dry heaving a bottle of whiskey knocked over and discarded to her right.

But trust me mate you've got this you always were the strongest but I'm not gonna promise that this won't hurt

you  were lying in the bathroom we almost thought we lost you

cause tryna numb the pain only makes it worse

I'm not giving up on you.

“J-Jack, I-i.. leave please.” she sobbed weakly. Heart breaking I moved to where she sat and slid down the wall to her height.

“I can’t do that Y/N.” I mumbled, bringing her shaking form into my arms. Hand rubbing soothingly up and down her back as she sniffled.

“Why Jack!” she cried sitting up, eyes red and puffy, pupils blown. 

“Because I love you Y/N.” I spoke calmly. 

“No, you don’t, you can’t love someone like me.” she wailed.

“Yes I can. I truly love and want to help you, but I need to know what’s wrong.”

“Can we just sit here for a bit?”

“We can do whatever you want.”

And if it gets worst

before it gets better

Don't be afraid to fall cause i won't let you

And if it gets worst

Before it gets better

Don't be afraid to fall

#risen rambles :d #jack hughes blurb #jamie drysdale x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes

[soubi122]

How Long? Part 2

Ranxreader.

Warnings: Cheating, alcohol, toxic Ran, smut, suggestive, angst, mentions of murder, murder, slightly graphic description of murder, hurt to comfort and fluff No Minors please, MDNI!

Enjoy my loves!

Part 1

***the next morning***

Ran returned home sometime in the morning, expecting to see you balled up on the couch or in bed but he was met with silence and emptiness. “(Y/N)?” He called out while stumbling from room to room, his vision was blurry and everything looked to be in place, including your car keys. He figured you’d gone out for a walk or something and would be back later - of course, you couldn’t live without him. Ran passed out on the couch without a second thought of your whereabouts. Hours later, he was woken up by the sound of the front door opening, he lazily got up to see Rindou standing in the doorway. “What are you doing here? Where’s (Y/N)?” He asked while rubbing his eyes and yawning. “I’m surprised she didn’t change the locks or try to kill you.” Rindou says while smirking. He was only coming in to check and make sure that you didn’t murder Ran, the rage in your eyes had him worried for his older brother. By 10:00 p.m., you still hadn’t come home and Ran was beginning to lose his patience. Fine…she wants to act like a brat? Fuck it. He thinks and decides to shower now that he sobered up. 

When rummaging through his drawer for clean clothes - he noticed that your nightstand drawer was left open. Ran peered into the drawer, your cellphone was there and he noticed that several items were missing. She didn’t… He began to go through all your drawers, your clothes and beloved items were all there. However, when he opened the safe in the closet - your birth certificate and government documents were gone. Panic started to set in when he realized that you weren’t coming back. Mostly because of what Mikey might say. If you fled, he would have no choice but to treat you like a traitor. He immediately got dressed and began to look for you at any place where you could possibly be. He spent the next three days looking for you, there was no trace of you anywhere. 

“How the fuck did you lose track of her?” Kokonoi yelled at Ran, they all gathered at his home and were surprised that you fled. They thought you were smarter than that - did you really think that you could outrun Bonten? “Mikey’s gonna have her head when he finds out…” Sanzu said while loading his gun’s clip. He was prepared to follow the King’s orders, even if it meant killing someone he was once close to. “You just couldn’t keep your dick to yourself.” Kakucho chimed in and scolded Ran - though he was the youngest, he was the most level headed and most responsible. 

Several weeks passed, Bonten couldn't find you and Ran was feeling the effect of your absence. Mornings were cold without you. There was no longer anyone to take care of him when he came home bloody and bruised. There was no one to provide him love and adoration, there was no one who gave him the warmth he seeked in an empty bed and he was left to vices. He’s been through dozens of relationships, dozens of women and dozens of breakups - why was this one feeling any different? Oh right, you were his fiance - he’s the one that proposed to you. He made the choice to keep you by his side. He's the one that fell head over heels first and the first to suggest you move in together. He made the first moves though you asked him for more time - you gave into him. You surrendered everything to him, and he knew that he meant the world to you. He was given everything, but all he gave back were material things that have no value in love. 

The sound of his cell phone going off snapped him out of his thoughts. He didn’t bother to look at the caller ID and answered with a hum. “Have you seen the news?” Takeomi’s voice was laced with concern. “No. Why? Did Sanzu get arrested or something?” Ran was not prepared for the next words that rolled off Takeomi’s tongue…

Within minutes all Bonten members met at Mikey’s office. Everyone was trying to figure out what the hell happened, how it happened and when it happened. “The cops have a positive ID, it’s her. They have yet to release her information to the press.” Ran had lost all color in his face and he felt like he was about to throw up. Kokonoi had the tv on with the news airing:

Local police found the body of a young woman at the bottom of a lake yesterday morning. A group of teenagers went swimming in the area and reported the body. They were engaging in a popular challenge, the challenge was who could reach the bottom of the lake and retrieve any lost valuables. Unfortunately, they found more than what they bargained for when they opened the zipper of the duffle bag. Police were notified immediately and when the divers were sent to investigate - they confirmed that the bag held the body of a woman. We will be updating this story with more information as the police try to identify the body.

The cops that Bonten had on their payroll notified Kokonoi and Kakucho immediately when they received the detailed report and suspected that it could have been Ran’s missing fiance. They sent a picture of the engagement ring taken from the corpse. There was speculation that you were kidnapped off the streets or that someone was following you that night at the bar. The guilt was gnawing away at Ran. Within hours of the news airing, someone in the police department leaked information to the media. 

A shocking new development regarding the body of the young woman that was found in the lake yesterday morning. Police now confirmed that the duffle bag was weighted with cinder blocks and the woman suffered a gunshot wound to her head. Her hands and feet were bound, this looks to have been a personal affair - the organized crime unit suspects that the woman was targeted due to her involvement with a major gang. The victim was [x] year old (L/N) (Y/N), if anyone has any information - please contact [x] Police Department. 

“Mikey, I need to retrieve (Y/N)’s body…I can’t just leave her in that freezer.” Ran said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Everyone understood Ran’s position, even though he brought this upon himself, it would be cruel to leave your body there. “No…” Mikey’s response shocked everyone, they figured he would allow Ran this favor as he too was fond of you. “Boss?” Rindou asked as he was stunned at Mikey's response. His expression was empty, there was no trace of sorrow or even empathy for his fellow member. “Mikey, we can’t just leave-” Ran began to protest when he was cut off by Mikey’s words. “As long as they don’t connect her to us, she’s no longer our concern. I guess she really couldn’t live without you…” His words were cold. It reminded Ran of his last words to you on that ill fated day. The day he single handedly destroyed you and his relationship. There was no use in arguing with him about this, his words were final. “She was your friend too Mikey…” Kokonoi said as he prepared for the aftermath of your death. Bonten was not allowed to visit the morgue to retrieve the body - it was a huge risk. As this was treated as a homicide, anyone who would come forward with information would be treated as a suspect. 

Ran found himself clutching to your pillow at night, tracing his fingers over your face in photos, he refused to throw out your belongings. Even though he knew you were gone forever, he kept your perfumes, your makeup, your body wash - anything that gave off your scent. He was even more upset when he couldn’t even retrieve the engagement ring from the evidence locker at the police station. He tried drowning himself in alcohol to cope with your loss. What started off with taking Rindou out to drown his sorrows, ended up with Ran drowning in sorrow and regret. You were supposed to stick with him, to beg him, to stroke his ego and tell him how much you loved him. You were supposed to forgive him, he was to have you wrapped around his finger. He wasn’t expecting for you to get up and leave. He wasn’t expecting for you to die. Love is a two way street - but Ran realized it a little too late.

He was relieved of any missions until further notice, Mikey allowed him to take time off to grieve - without a leveled head, he was a risk to Bonten. He was wallowing in self pity. How could you leave him? He would wake up in cold sweats, reaching out to your side of the bed - expecting to feel a warm body that would embrace him and erase his guilt. Instead, he was met with emptiness - your side of the bed was cold, your faint scent lingered on the pillow but you were gone. Ran thought he was going mad when he drunkenly called out your name one night and thought he had heard your voice call out to him. 

Anything having to do with your case - it was kept clear from Bonten. Mikey made it clear to everyone, including the underlings, to steer clear of the case unless they wanted a bullet to their temple. No questions were to be asked, no internal investigation was to be made and Ran was not allowed to conduct his own independent investigation. He was solely responsible for your murder and Mikey made sure to remind him of that. The case went cold, there were absolutely no leads that could have pointed the authorities in the right direction. 

***3 years later***

Bonten moved on, as did Ran - it took time but he finally put your ghost behind him. He was forced to throw out your belongings, it wasn't healthy to cling on to a dead woman's items - they were of no use to you anymore. There were multiple women that have come and gone but none filled the void in his heart. Business continued as usual with stacks of body bags and stacks of money - but Bonten was still empty of the warmth you provided them. 

One afternoon Ran was in his office when an underling stumbled in, the poor guy was sweating, pale and out of breath. “S-sir…Y-you're not going to b-believe me…s-she's alive!” Ran couldn't understand what the guy was talking about. "Are you high or something? What the fuck are you going on about?" At this point Ran was on his feet walking towards the man, he was starting to think that Sanzu drugged the guy for shits and giggles. The underling started pacing back and forth, his hands were shaking and he just couldn't stop stuttering. “I-I thought I was hallucinating. But s-she's alive- I didn't think it was p-possible! The news c-c-confirmed her ID.” He began to rant as he paced. It was making Ran uneasy, there was no way he could be referring to you…right? 

“Where did you see her?” Ran asked while balling up his fists, if this was some kind of sick joke - he will kill the guy for it. The underling pulled out his phone and showed him the picture of a model, she looked nothing like you. The model was at a cafe and was posing for what looked to be a brunch with friends. Ran pulled his gun out immediately and put it against the man's forehead. “B-Boss! Wait - look a-at the woman in the b-background!” The man pleaded and pointed at his phone. Ran's eyes scanned the image and took a closer look at the photo - when his eyes landed on the woman in the background, he felt faint. This morning’s breakfast was starting to come back up. In the image there was a woman at a slight distance standing behind the model - it was a side profile view and she looked exactly like you. She looked like a waitress at the cafe. There were subtle differences but it was you - you were alive. Ran almost crushed the phone in his hands, you faked your death for 3 years and outwitted Bonten. 

Within minutes he stormed out of his office and booked a plane ticket without telling anyone. There was no movement in credit cards or bank accounts for weeks, months, or even a year to indicate that you flew out of Tokyo, let alone the country or to even indicate that you were alive. Where did you get the money to just leave everything behind? “Where is he going?” Kokonoi asked when he saw Ran’s car pull out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell. Everyone shrugged their shoulders but the moment the underling walked out of Ran's office, he was grilled by the admins and executives. “I found (Y/N)…” He said with a hopeful look on his face. Their puzzled faces had the man on edge, they were warned not to say your name in Ran's presence but this was a huge revelation. One that solved Bonten's problems and one that would finally give Ran Haitani closure. He was met with an immediate response from Rindou, “You sent my brother on some fucking wild goose chase? She's fucking gone!” The rage in his voice made the man shrink down into the desk. He thought this would have been a great thing for Bonten, to find you. “Is this not good news for us? I thought (Y/N)-” The man couldn’t finish his explanation when he was met with a bullet to the head. Everyone flinched and turned around, who other than Sanzu was crazy enough to set a gun off indoors?

Mikey was standing in the doorway with his gun in hand, there was no warning - he ended the man’s life without a second thought. “I warned everyone about saying her name…or about looking into her death…” Everyone shuddered at the tone in his voice. “Where is Ran?” No one knew, but when Mikey grabbed the guy's cell phone and saw the image - his heart sank. 

Ran packed a few things and immediately went to the airport to catch the next available flight to Wakkanai (Hokkaido). When he reached the island, he immediately booked a hotel room north of the city. It gave him a starting point for his search, it would be easy to avoid passing by the same areas over and over again. His cell phone was constantly blowing up with calls, angry texts and voicemails left by Rindou and Kokonoi. It was an abrupt decision that made everyone concerned. 

Are you fucking kidding me? You’re going on a whim over some grunt that barely knew (y/n)? Do you have any idea how fucking stupid you look right now? She’s dead…let it go Ran!

End Message

Rindou’s message came off callous and cruel but it was the truth. Ran made a rash decision, he had no idea if you were actually there or if you were alive. The woman in the background of the image only looked like you but to Ran - it was you. The photo was taken only a few months ago so he was taking a shot in the dark. What if it was just a stranger who resembles you, nothing more? The worst part was having to deal with the aftermath of Mikey’s wrath when he returns to Tokyo. After checking into the hotel, he immediately went down to the concierge desk and asked about all the cafes located on this side of the island. He was given a map by the receptionist and she highlighted areas where popular cafes were located. “Please let us know if there is anything else we can assist you with.” The woman at the reception desk said while batting her eyelashes at him. Ran Haitani carried more than just his threatening presence, he still carried that god damn handsome face…

Before the end of the night he received a call, a call that made his blood run cold - it was Mikey with a warning. “She doesn’t want to see you nor be found, leave the island and come back to Tokyo.” It hit him like a ton of bricks. Mikey knew you were alive? Ran’s brain was short circuiting as pieces were starting to fall in place - why Mikey refused to conduct an external investigation regarding your death and why he was so cold about the whole ordeal. Ran just thought it was to keep the heat off of Bonten. “Boss…you knew?” His voice was almost a whisper. Could he really blame you? The only other person who didn’t indulge in Ran’s infidelity was Mikey, he was the only other person you could have confided in. But what hurts the most is that for three years Ran suffered, he was seen at his worst and Mikey let him fall. “Does it make a difference? You did this to yourself Haitani…” With that Mikey ended the call. The stinging in his chest wouldn’t stop - for you to go that far…?

Throughout the upcoming days Ran roamed the streets highlighted on the map. He was desperately trying to find any trace of you. Everywhere he looked, he failed - he asked locals about you - even showed them old pictures of you. He was six days in and still couldn’t find you. He was desperate, so he reached out to the model to ask her for the name of the cafe she visited in the photo. It took a few days but she finally replied and let him know the name of the place. It was a cafe on the very edge of the island. You really went to the farthest point to hide away. The following day, he got up early, showered, got ready and made his way to that little cafe by the edge of the city. He was running lines over and over in his head to try and figure out what to say to you - he was trying to keep his emotions in control. When he arrived at the small cafe, he parked his rental half a block away across the street. It looks like the place wasn’t open yet. It was 8:00 a.m. and he was sitting in the rental, patiently waiting for someone to stop by or at least open up the cafe to ask about your whereabouts. By 8:30 a.m., he noticed a woman approach the building and begin to unlock the front doors. It was you…you stood taller and confident. The smile on your face broke his heart even more, you used to smile at him that way every morning…

He thought the steering wheel was going to crack with how hard his hands were gripping it. There was an overwhelming sense of anger and longing. Ran struggled to get out of the car, you were alone and this would be the perfect time to try and talk to you without any interruptions. But what if you refused to see him? What if you kick him out or call the cops? His stomach was in turmoil. You’re one of Japan’s most feared men…why the fuck are you acting like such a little bitch?! The voice in his head screams at him. Finally, he sucked in a sharp breath and exhaled - trying to relax himself before stepping out of the car. The closer he got to the building the more he felt his legs start to give out from the anxiety building up in the pit of his stomach. When he reached the front door, he gently pushed it open - the bell that hung at the top of the door jingled. He froze in place, he was trying to slip in without you noticing but was too anxious to notice the bell on the door. From the back of the cafe your sweet voice called out, “I’ll be with you in a minute, please take a seat at any table.” Ran didn’t respond, instead - he locked the door and flipped the handwritten “Open” sign on the door so that it read “Closed”. 

He slowly walked towards the back of the cafe, his hands were trembling and felt a knot in his throat. His breathing was shaky and he felt like he was going to pass out. When he reached the back of the cafe, there you were in the little kitchen, you didn’t notice him. You were putting a few bakery items on a tray, prepping for the morning rush he assumes. The midi skirt you were wearing had his eyes trailing up your legs, to your hips, to the small of your back, to your shoulders and finally to your face when you turned around. You gasped and dropped the tray, the look of horror on your face made him flinch. “...you’re alive…?” Ran’s words barely left his lips when you immediately dashed to the other side of the kitchen and tried to escape out the back door. But of course he was just as fast to react and with those long legs of his - he was able to catch you right before your hand reached the doorknob. “Let go of me!” You screamed and thrashed around in his hold. He was struggling to handle you, before you were easy to overpower but now you were holding your own. 

Ran’s grip on you tightened and he pulled you in, burying his face into your neck, you felt as if you were suffocating. “My love…” His voice cracked when he buried his face deeper, you could feel his breath on your skin and warm wet tears. Was he…crying? Your body tensed when he pulled away and cupped your face with both hands, for the first time in your life, you saw Ran Haitani cry. “(Y/N)...” You tried to back away but the desperation in Ran made him react immediately. You found yourself pinned against the wall, his body held you in place - you felt your world shatter in an instant when your eyes met his. Those beautiful lilac eyes were glossy, red and drowning you with all sorts of emotions. “Leave…” Your words were a whisper as you felt his poison begin to seep into your skin. His scent, his warmth, his touch - it made your chest hurt. You struggled for two years trying to forget him, his touch was etched into your skin and you scrubbed your skin almost raw every night to try and erase him. It was painful. “Please…” He said as his face inched closer, it was too close - out of panic you tried to knee him and he doubled over in reflex, giving you a chance to free yourself from his hold. You made a break for the front door, you were so close but Ran reached for your ankle mid run and made you trip on to the floor behind the counter, the impact almost knocked the wind out of you. You were wearing his patience out - he was starting to feel anger with each and every attempt of yours for escape. Did you resent him so much that you didn’t want to hear anything he had to say?

He pulled you down to him by your ankle, ultimately straddling you and caging you underneath him. “People will come any minute…” You spat trying to get him to leave, if anyone found out of your connection to Bonten - Mikey will kill you for real this time. “No one's coming darling…the door is locked and your cute little 'Open' sign was flipped.” The smirk on his face made you feel sick, you shouldn't feel anything for him but that tiny fragment of Ran Haitani remained in your heart. It was bittersweet, as much as you hated him, you couldn't deny that the tone in his voice made an ache between your legs. “...Ran-” You began to say but stopped yourself, there is no reason as to why you needed to explain your actions. Hearing you say his name made warmth build up in the pit of his stomach. “How long…?” He asked while cupping your cheek. “How long did Mikey know about your 'death'?” Ran’s voice was low and it made a shiver run up your spine. You didn't answer, you only looked away, it's best that you didn't get Mikey involved in this any further. “Look at me!” He yelled at you and made you flinch. Ran was trying to be as patient as possible but you were not making this easy for him. Your tears began to cloud your vision as you tried to find the words to say, but the anger was building up inside you too. He shouldn’t have a hold on you anymore, yet he’s making you shrink back down. The moment you looked up at him, he could see the fire in your eyes - it was all new to him. Not once have you ever glared at him or looked at him with such hatred or resentment - except for that night you caught him. You were shambles again. 

“I-” You began when you heard a knock against the front window. Someone was trying to verify if the cafe was open as the hours were listed on one of the windows and of course it was strange that the place was closed when it’s supposed to be open. Ran immediately placed his hand over your mouth and you furrowed your eyebrows, there was no way you would even try and call for help. You knew better than to rustle Bonten’s feathers. He took a peek over the counter and saw two people waiting outside, luckily the lights weren’t on in the front of the cafe so they couldn’t see inside that well and couldn’t spot Ran’s purple hair peek from behind the counter. He was waiting for them to leave so that if you did decide to make any loud noises, they wouldn't be heard. The view of him on top of you was making your heart pound uncontrollably in your chest. He hasn’t changed…he still looks as devilish and handsome as before, his poison was starting to affect your state of mind. Don’t…don’t let him back in your life… Your brain was screaming at you - trying to warn you and keep you from breaking, but your heart couldn’t help it. Your body let go and you screwed your eyes shut, hoping that he wouldn't notice how you were falling apart for him.

Your soft sniffles snatched his attention back to you. He felt his heart break when he looked down at you - you were afraid, angry and broken. Slowly he lifted his palm away from your mouth and couldn’t help but be drawn into your parted lips and shaky breaths. There was an urge to feel your plush lips against his but the tears in your eyes made him stop. He was hurting you again. “This isn’t right…” He said softly as he pulled away and sat on the floor with his back against the counter. Your body froze and remained on the floor, you were looking up at the ceiling and avoiding his eyes. There is a war raging inside of you right now, do you try and run again or do you stay and listen to what he has to say? Without looking at him, you asked “How did you find me?” Ran was surprised that you weren’t trying to run away from him. “How long did Mikey know about this?” He answered your question with a question. “Ran…how did you find me?” You repeated the question again while sitting up and leaning against the wall across from Ran. Both of you were sitting on the floor and avoiding each other’s eyes. Ran couldn’t look at you without feeling guilty, angry and wanting to pin you underneath him again. 

He pulled out his phone and showed you the image of the model in the background. “One of the underlings showed me this and came to me.” You were disappointed in yourself for being so careless, for the last three years you have avoided photos and public appearances. But when this place opened up, you were so busy that you slipped. You deserve better, angel… Were Mikey’s words to you that night that you came to his office. He worked really hard to make you disappear and gave you a new name to avoid leaving a trail, he hid you away for three months until he could prepare a corpse for you. Meticulous planning had you hiding under Bonten’s noses without a single ounce of suspicion - not even Kokonoi suspected a thing. Though you were willing to leave this world, Mikey didn’t let you go that easy. Call it mercy or pity, he understood what it was like to want to throw everything away, but he let you live.

You exhaled and tucked your legs into your chest, hugging them and using your knees to try and hide your face. All this work went down the drain. “Why did you come here? Why come find me?” The low tone in your voice made Ran look at you and the position you were in made him realize that you probably spent days like this after that night. “You’re seriously asking me that?” He said with a soft chuckle. “When you didn’t come home that night, I spent days looking for you - we all did.” “I didn’t realize how much it would hurt until the ache in my chest was becoming harder to ignore…” The honey coated words were making you hug your knees tighter. You didn’t know whether he was telling you the truth or not. Ran Haitani only ever hurts when his ego is bruised. “Ran, you made the choice to sever our ties.” The bitter words spilled out of your mouth before you could even think them through. He couldn’t even defend himself, you were right. Your words were like an uppercut, the blow was enough to make him clutch his chest. “(Y/N)-” He began but you cut him off. “I left that name back in Tokyo, I left it with everything I had, including you…” You said while looking up at him, the acrimony in your tone was enough to make him react. 

Ran crawled up to you, reaching to cup your face and closing the distance - he couldn’t stop the tears from falling. No…please don’t… Your inner voice was still trying its hardest to keep you from falling again, but your body was doing nothing to stop him. “My love…” He said as he leaned in and placed tender kisses on your lips. Ran’s poison was now fully circulating in your veins, it was making you dizzy as he begged for entrance and your lips were parting for him. “Ran, stop please…” You begged but your body began betraying your words - he was overdosing you. Slowly, your arms reached for him and wrapped themselves around his neck. The delicate kisses turned into hungry ones as a breathy moan escaped your lips. Though it's been three years, the both were exploring each other's mouths as if you were never separated. The warm and wet muscles were tangled and fighting for dominance, it made pools of honey between your thighs - he hasn't lost his edge. His kisses felt like fire, no matter how many times you've done it, it always burned through you and he knew how it made you melt. He didn't stop, he was suffocating you and you had to break the kiss by shoving him off of you. You both were left panting and dazed. The way your chest heaved up and down had him fighting to keep himself from palming his length. It was painfully obvious that he was holding back. Without a second thought you got up and reached for his hand, pulling him on his feet to try and talk things out but the moment you did - there was no escape for what was coming next.

Within minutes you found yourself back in the little kitchen, Ran had picked you up and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. The immediate reaction was to lock lips again, but this time he was much more assertive, he was overwhelming you with his tongue and you felt dizzy. It’s been so long since you’ve had any actual connection with another man. You were too afraid to repeat history. Ran guided you back so that there would be no prying eyes if anyone were to pass by. He sat you on the edge of one of the counters and let his hands roam your body, his touch was setting you off - you tried so hard to erase him from your memory but you were anticipating every single move he was making. His hands started on your hips and moved along your curves, slowly moving upwards and cupping your breasts. The way your body reacted had him rolling your nipples under the fabric and your soft moan made him smirk against your lips. No one else knew your body like he did. You could feel him grow harder and the way his cock was throbbing against your clothed cunt had you rutting your hips to try and get more friction. 

Soon his right hand trailed south and snaked its way under your skirt. He was inching closer and closer to your core, the butterflies in your stomach were running rampant and he could feel your heart beating against his left hand when he placed it over your heart. Ran’s right hand began to dip under the fabric of your panties and he could feel the slick pool and coat your folds. Your breath hitched when he sank two fingers into your core. You bit his lip and made him groan, it’s been far too long and your walls were clenching tightly around his digits. Your lips quivered against his when he invaded your walls, making him pull away and swip his thumb over your lip. Without any words he made you lean back onto your elbows and sank down to place tender kisses from your knees to your thighs, with each kiss he could feel your legs twitch and quiver. He hummed against your skin. “This is still your sensitive spot…hmm?” The look in his eyes had you biting your lip. You pulled the hem of your skirt up, hiking it high enough so that he could see the mess he’s made of you. 

Your panties were soaked and with one swift motion he was able to remove them, the way your juices reflected the little light that bled through the kitchen had him salivating. Just seeing how your cunt greedily sucked his fingers in, made him palm himself. When he began to pump his fingers in and out - you threw your head back and tried not to rut your hips. The sensation was too good and felt like heaven. Ran leaned in and lapped your juices, making your head snap back up to see his devilish smirk. He knew you were going to watch him, you always did. “R-Ran-oh god…” You moaned and tangled your hand into his purple locks. He made sure to lock eyes with you, he wanted to see your face as pleasure washed over you. It’s something he’s yearned for, to see you fall apart for him over and over again - just like before. The way he curved his fingers to hit that one spot in your velvet walls made you throw your head back and moan loudly. He reached for your other hand and laced his fingers with yours. Ran memorized the lines of your thighs, your plush lips and the sensation of your tight walls. How could he forget? Just like you, he tried to forget but couldn’t. “I’ve missed you so much…I love you.” His confession made the tears blur your vision and cloud your judgment. No… 

His tongue began to put more pressure on your clit as he curled his finger a little more. It was becoming harder to stay lucid, you hated that he knew how to break you both emotionally and physically. The anger kept getting smothered and overruled by the pleasure. “I-oh fuck - I hate you! I-ngh…” You moaned and stuttered, the pent up frustration and need made it easy for him to push the right buttons. You pulled him closer to your aching cunt and rode out your orgasm. Ran groaned and could feel you cream around his digits and tongue. There was no denying it - you missed him, you loved him and fell apart for him. You could only hear the pounding of your heart in your chest as you came down from your body numbing high. The sound was so loud in your ears that you didn’t hear the clinking of Ran’s belt. You were snatched out of your daze when you felt a thick tip prod your core. “...you hate me?” He said in a breathy tone as he slowly pushed past your barriers only to pull out and do it again. You choked back the response and let out another moan as he dived deeper into your pools of honey. It was painful, Ran’s thickness had you feeling as if it were your first time. His cock was making your eyes water and you had to hold on the edge of the table to keep yourself from floating off. He noticed you struggling and leaned into place a kiss on your forehead to try and ease your pain. You clutched his bicep as he kept inching his way in.

“Fuck…I’ve missed you so much.” He whimpered as he bottomed out and your warm walls clenched around him, there was immense pressure on your hips. “Ran…” Your sweet moan made him pull you in and he crashed his lips into yours. The moment he started to thrust his hips, you wrapped your arms around his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist as he gripped your hips tightly. “Tell me you love me…” He whispered into your lips. His tone was beseeching, the emotions were spilling with each and every thrust. It was breaking your heart, how could you admit to still loving him without getting hurt again? “I-I can’t…” You stuttered and tried to stop yourself from falling in love with the sensation of his touch all over again. “...please, don't let me go…” He begged and buried his face into your neck, picking up the pace - trying to leave another imprint on your walls.

The tears that fell from your lashes were staining his shirt, he could feel the warm and wet sensation coating his shoulders. “I-ngh, s-shit…I promise to give you my all…” His sincerity made it harder for you to deny the love you still felt for him. “I won’t break your heart again…please, my love.” He was sending your body into overdrive with the overwhelming emotions and longing. You could feel another orgasm blossoming, these were the words you wanted to hear three years ago. “Ran…I do, I love y-oh god!” His thrusts became sloppy as he was reaching his peak. “‘Gonna cum…gonna fill you up.” “I love you…” You repeated those words again and true to his word, he felt his coil snap and made your coil snap at the same time. Your pussy milked him for all he’s worth, he painted your velvet walls white and pushed his cum deep in your womb - he didn’t want to be forgotten again. Each throb and spurt could be felt along your walls, he made you feel whole again - for the first time in three years you felt like a person again. 

He pressed his forehead against yours and cupped your cheek, “You’re mine princess…I’m not letting you go again…” Ran’s words were final. “What am I supposed to do with my cafe and my identity?” You chuckled and pecked his lips. “We’ll figure that out later…well - Mikey can figure that out later…” It sounded like Ran was going to shift the responsibility on Mikey. To be fair, you knew that it was going to end up on Koko’s shoulders. “For now let’s head back to your place so I can keep showing you how much I’ve missed you.” Sounds like today was the cafe’s last day in business.

End.

@rinrinfoxy @mor-pheus @no-signal  @namelessnikki2 @gabi-moureira @spookys-s @slvtmeow @jinii-desu @mmmaaannnsssiii @3xchooo @kokotakeomi @no-name-jack @barriesandcrem @reidsmexyconverse @waterfallsdown @1980losersliveinme @gabytodd @simp4ren @fffsksixj @ruyaas-world @suredeepinstomach @xiemei @izanology @cooki83

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokrev smut #tr smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyorevengers #tokyo revengers x reader #bonten #ran haitani #bonten ran #tokyo revengers ran #ran haitani x you #ran smut #ran angst #tokyo rev fluff #fluff

[thatesqcrush]

12 Steps to Love: Step 7 - Ask a Higher Power to Remove Your Shortcomings

Rafael Barba x Reader. CW: NSFW for smut, obscene language, addiction talk (alcoholism), minor physical altercation, and that bitch (IYKYK).

AN: HBD to me! So I am giving y'all a present instead. That present, is smut (under the cut).

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed. You scanned the room, the entire apartment quiet. You wrapped the bed sheet around you as you explored the apartment. “Rafael?” you called out to no response. Your hand trailed along the wall as you headed into the kitchen. There was a note on the counter from Rafael stating he went to pick up breakfast and his suits from the cleaners. You smiled to yourself, feeling perfectly content. 

After your shower, you decided to rifle through Rafael’s cabinet and sure enough you found a new unused toothbrush. You brushed your teeth as you then looked through his drawers to find something to wear. You crouched to the bottom drawer and to your surprise, you found a pair of jeans that you must have left behind. You grabbed one of Rafael’s many (albeit faded) Harvard t-shirts and brought it to your face, inhaling the scent deeply. You were in the middle of putting it over your head when there was banging at the door. You furrowed your brow and made your way over. Your hair left a trail of water droplets as your feet padded along the floor.

The banging continued and you huffed to yourself. “I’m coming, hold your horses!” You undid the lock and the chain on the door before swinging the door wide open.

You let out a gasp. It was Yelina. 

Yelina scoffed with an eye roll as she took in the sight of you. You took the sight of her in - she was dressed casually, no makeup. You could see the redness in her eyes and the dark under eye bags and you quickly deduced she had been crying.

You awkwardly turned towards the apartment. “Look, um, Rafi’s not here…” your voice trailed.

“It didn’t occur to me on my way over that you’d be here, but of course you’re here,” Yelina spat. Her voice is bitter, dripping with disdain. Her eyes narrowed. “Are those my jeans?”

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. It didn’t occur to you that they would have been anyone else’s but yours. 

Yelina held up a hand. “Don’t answer that. Keep them. I wouldn’t want them back. Not after you stretched them out anyway.”

You were still too stunned to speak. 

“What Rafi and I had… I finally got a second chance with him,” Yelina continued, pushing past you and making her way into the apartment. You look around awkwardly and then decide to use the small ceramic bust of José Martí that Rafael had to keep the door propped open.

“I wondered what I did wrong to deserve this. Then I realized the only ones to blame are you two.”

You took a deep breath and prayed like hell, your voice wasn’t going to shake. “You know, Rafi told me all about you. And that when he was with you, he imagined it was me who was with him. Look, I get why you’re being such a bitch. You obviously love him and you think you’re gonna get him back. But the thing is, he outgrew you.”

“Bullshit. After he dumped your sorry ass, he came to me. I can’t pretend that I am over him, cuz I am not,” Yelina replied, her voice dripping with acerbity. “You think you’ve got him all figured out. Well, let me tell you something—“

You crossed your arms and jutted your chin. “I’ll worry about that the next time I fuck him.” 

What happened next came off as slo-mo - Yelina’s hand swung out and connected with your face. Your face felt hot from the impact of the slap. You immediately reached for your cheek. Your skin stung and you flexed your jaw. 

And without so much as a second thought, you clenched your fist and crooked your arm back before popping Yelina directly in the face. She let out a cry of pain and stumbled backwards. She brought her hand to her face and shrieked in horror. “I’m bleeding! Holy shit! Did you break my nose?”

It was that moment Rafael walked in, carrying flowers and a bag of food. “Yelina?” He looked at you and then her. “What is going on? What are you doing here?”

You and Yelina both turned towards Rafael.  Because she was standing next to you, some of her hair whipped you in the face. You sputtered and wiped your hands over your face repeatedly.

“Are you bleeding? Are you okay?” Rafael rushed to Yelina’s side. Rafael turned to you. “Did you hit her?”

Yelina moved her hand from her face, blood dripping down from her nose. “Rafi! The stupid pendeja punched me!”

“Hey! You slapped me first!” You yelled defensively.

Rafael looked at the two of you, completely stunned. He shook his head, recovering. “Yelina, don’t ever say that!” he scolded before continuing. “She’s not a pendeja. Did you slap her?”

“You asked me to bring you your stuff. And as much as that hurt, I did.” Yelina sniffled. She dropped the bag without care and some of the contents spilled out - mostly toiletries, but also some other items, like a few ties. But your eyes were immediately drawn to the gold strip of condoms. “Guapo, is there somewhere we could talk privately?”

Rafael let out a sigh; he didn’t miss how Yelina didn’t answer his question about hitting you. “Siéntate, por favor. Let me get some ice for your nose.”

Yelina turned to look at you, scoffed, and then made her way to the couch. Rafael approached you. He lifted your face with his finger and pushed away some hair, tucking it behind your ears. “Are you okay?”

You felt your cheeks grow hot and your eyes welled up. The skin where you were slapped was sore. “I am. But I am not gonna sugarcoat it. I could use a drink. Or ten.”

Rafael frowned. “I understand. Let’s talk about that once I deal with Yelina, okay? Go wait for me in the bedroom.”

You nodded. “Okay,” you replied quietly. Rafael pressed a kiss to your forehead. You watched as Rafael made his way to the kitchen. 

Your chest felt tight and panic bubbled under the surface. You took a deep breath and then walked over to pick up the bag Yelina dropped. You threw everything back haphazardly. When you got to the condoms, you stared at them. Your mind briefly imagined Rafael and Yelina together and you shuddered before shoving the condoms back in the bag. 

With a sigh of your own, you headed to the bedroom. You scrolled through your various social media apps waiting for Rafael to return. When he did, he himself looked agitated.

“Is everything okay?”

Rafael nodded, rubbing his chin. “I sent her home in a cab. She is not taking the breakup well. But I made it very clear that in no uncertain terms that she and I are not getting back together. And I managed to convince her to not press charges.”

You sat up straighter, your anger increasing. “Excuse me? She is the one who came here and hit me. I just reacted in response. Self defense if you will.”

Rafael gave you a pointed look. “It’s over. And I am glad I got here when I did. Are you okay? Do you want to file charges? I can call one of the detectives…”

You shook your head. “No you’re right. It’s done. It’s over. I don’t want to make it more messy than it needs to be. In working step 7, I need to be conscientious of avoiding sources of temptation that threaten my sobriety.”

Rafael gave you a look. “Temptation?”

You laughed. “You sir are a good kind of temptation. You give me orgasms and keep me humble. I mean more, just trash that threatens my sobriety… like her. I don’t want this to set me back.”

Rafael nodded. “Of course. Also glad to know I am a temptation.”

You climbed off the bed and approached Rafael, swatting him playfully. “You’re so full of shit. You know how fucking handsome you are.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Maybe a TRO won’t be so bad. I could have handled her, y’know.”

“I know,” Rafael murmured. “Let me take a look at your face sweetheart.” You lifted your cheek towards him. He crooked a finger under chin and tilted your face some more. “I don’t see any bruising or a mark.”

“It’s sore but mostly faded,” you responded. “Truth be told, I enjoy getting slapped - but on my ass. And by you.”

Rafael chuckled. He turned your face towards his. He bent his head down to press a kiss to your lips. You sagged against him, returning the kiss. His hands gripped you tightly, pressing your body close to his. 

“I know you brought food and all that, but maybe let’s just go back to bed?”

Rafael kissed you once more. “Yes.”

You undid the jeans and went to remove his t-shirt when Rafael stopped you. 

“Leave it on.”

You arched a brow. “Okay Mr. Harvard.” 

Rafael gave you a cheeky grin before he got undressed himself. The two of you made the way back to bed. 

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Rafael asked in between kisses. “You can say no.”

You pulled back. “I know. And you’re so sweet and such a nice, decent guy for checking. But I enthusiastically consent to being fucked Rafael.”

Rafael’s eyes darken, blown by lust. “Okay cariño.”

You wrap one hand around his neck and pulled him to you. His lips crushed against yours, and you opened your mouth to allow him to deepen the kiss. His tongue exploded your mouth, licking hotly.  You wrapped your legs instinctively around his hips. Rafael rutted against your lace covered pussy, already so wet and ready for him. Your hips rose to meet his, and for a second as if the two of you were two teens dry humping one another.

“Fuck me,” you whined. “Please.”

“When you beg so prettily, how could I ever even dare to say no,” Rafael husked. You let out a moan as he rucked up his shirt, exposing your braless tits. His tongue traced your areola before taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking.  Your nipple hardened in response to the combination of the cool air and his warm wet mouth. His teeth gently scraped your sensitive bud and your back arched toward him, wanting more. Rafael repeated the actions to your other breast and you sighed contentedly. “Don’t stop, so good.”

Rafael obliged, alternating his attention, sucking, flicking, squeezing and pinching. You whined some more and Rafael took the opportunity to leave a dark mark on the slope of your breast. He then moved down your body, creating a path down your stomach with open mouthed kisses. 

Rafael used the tip of his tongue to trace along the seam of your panties. Your skin fluttered and you squirmed under his touch, and Rafael made a mental note to file away about this secret sensitive spot of yours.

Your hands ran through his dark hair, tugging. “Raf?”

Rafael looked up at you, his gaze downright sinful. “Yes amor?”

“Fuck me, please. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Rafael nodded. “I need to get a condom.”

Your mind flashed to the strip of gold condoms that fell out. You shook your head inwardly gagging. “No, I trust you. I still have my IUD.”

Rafael swallowed hard. “Okay,” he managed to squeak out. The idea of going bare with you made his temperature soar and he felt dizzy. 

He climbed over you again, and you spread your legs wider. You used a finger to push your panties to the side. Rafael pushed his boxers down, but didn’t completely remove them. He sat on his haunches and pumped his cock, before he drew the tip through your folds, teasing you and coating his length in your wetness.

Finally, Rafael lined himself along your entrance and pushed in. Your wet warm cunt pulled him in, gripping tightly like a vice. You wrapped your legs around his hips and gripped his biceps tightly as Rafael began to fuck you. The rhythm was slow and measured at first, drawing half way out before snapping forward, pushing all the way to the hilt until he bottomed out.

Rafael watched as your eyes fluttered close and your face contorted in pleasure. His pace quickened, snapping his hips repeatedly, driving his thick cock in and out of you. The way you chanted his name as you surrendered yourself to him made him feel like a king.  You watched as sweat dripped off his brow and how his cross swayed with his thrusts. You weren’t religious but something about just the sight of that made you feel perverse. 

You’re gasping, clenching his sides, your nails digging into his sweaty, tanned skin as he rode you hard. He pushed one of your legs higher, changing the angle and you let out an actual sob at the feel of his cock dragging along your cunt, hitting that one spot that makes you feel boneless. You were close - so close, but you did not want it to end, so instead you tapped his bicep. Rafael locked eyes with you. “I want to be on top.”

Rafael lowered his body to yours and kissed you before rolling your bodies so that you were on top. You rucked up Rafael’s Harvard shirt so that he could knead your tits. One of your tits puffed through his fingers as you bounced on his cock, meeting his thrusts. You slowed your roll of your hips, throwing your head back as pleasure sparked through you before picking up the pace again. The room was filled with obscene sounds wetness, breathy moans and groans. There was something about all of this - how this extremely handsome man wanted you, and that he wanted you in spite of everything, that made you feel so incredibly vulnerable. Rafael slapped your ass quickly in succession. 

“Again,” you panted. Rafael is quick to oblige, smacking your ass some more.

“Is that what you like? Getting spanked.”

“Sí papí,” you purred.

You reached between your bodies to rub your clit, but Rafael shooed your hand away. The way you called him papí thrilled him. He pressed his thumb to your clit, rubbing haphazard circles. 

“Gonna come for me?” Rafael grunted as he met the pace of your hips. You bit your lip and nodded frantically. Your toes curled as you began to teeter closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m close too,” Rafael panted as he continued the snap of his hips. He could already feel the tension in his belly, the heaviness in his balls, aching for sweet release. You cried out as you fell, coming hard on his cock. The wrecked look on your face, the way you whined his name so prettily, and the feel of your wet cunt rippling around his cock, soaking him with your slick is too much. You collapsed forward, and Rafael planted his feet firmly into the mattress and began snapping his hips into you even more quickly as he chased his release. Rafael’s hips stuttered and with a deep groan of your name, he spilled inside you, painting your walls with his release, white, hot, and sticky.

Rafael stayed there, buried deep inside you. You were both panting, waiting for your hearts to slow down. You enjoyed the feel of his sweaty body against yours. You felt his cock soften and his release began to drip out of you due to gravity. He kissed you softly, then peppered your jaw and cheeks with some more before a final kiss on your nose.

You hum contentedly. “Mmm that was wonderful.”

Rafael smirks. “You got one more in you sweetheart?”

“Wha—?” 

Your question is quickly answered as Rafael rolls you back onto your back, withdrawing from you as he did so. Your legs still feel boneless and Rafael spreads you easily, your body pliant to him. He uses his thumbs to spread your wet puffy lips, watching his release drip out. Then his mouth is on you, licking and cleaning the mess he made between your legs. You thread your hands through his damp dark locks.

You cried out and whined Rafael’s name, drawing out every syllable.  

Rafael lapped at your cunt as if he were a starving man with his last meal. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of your sweet juices mixed with his salty cum. He paused to climb back over you and kiss you, pushing the mix of yours and his release into your mouth. You moan as you take it in and swallow. Rafael settles back down between your legs and sucks at your clit while he slides two of his thick fingers inside. Your second orgasm quickly crested. Rafael could sense you were close with how your stomach tightened and your legs shook. 

“That’s it, come for me again. Show me how prettily you come for me.”

Rafael wrapped his mouth around your clit and shook his head. You arched off the bed, your words incoherent as you come once more. He licked you through your release, letting go of your clit with a wet squelch. 

Rafael’s face was smug, his chin and cheeks coated in your juices.

“Get up here,” you purred. Rafael climbed over you and the two of you lazily make out, you tasting yourself on him once more.  Rafael rolled so he was on his back and you snuggled in his embrace.

It would be easy to settle back to sleep, but your stomach growled loudly enough to remind you to eat. You climbed out of bed, legs unsteady. Rafael caught you and you thank him with a smile. Rafael pushed you back onto the bed by your shoulders. You give him a confused look. 

“Stay put, I’ll bring everything here.” Rafael explained. Your mouth formed an ‘oh’ and you climbed back into bed. 

And it was in the soft morning light that you both ate, committed to one another and this relationship more than ever. 

Tags: @madpanda75 @beardedbarba @beccabarba @melk917 @witches-unruly-heart @dreamlover31 @detective-giggles @storiesofsvu @qvid-pro-qvo @tintinxtintin @plaidbooks @wanniiieeee @qvid-pro-qvo @detectivebarba @mrsrafaelbarba @mrsraulesparza @garturbo @zoeykaytesmom @bisexual-dreamer02 @evee87 @i-justreally-like-cats-okay @madamsnape921 @imjustreallynosy @glimmerglittergirl @sass-and-suspenders @alwaysachorusgirl @greeneyedblondie44 @gibbs274 @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindos @ottosuricato @amelia-song-pond @averyhotchner @eltrujillo

#rafael barba smut #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba and reader #rafael barba x you #rafale barba x f! reader

[beels-burger-babe]

Nothing Left to Pay

*** Here we are! The third and final installment in the Dark Mage Solomon series! Thank you guys for the crazy amount of love you've been giving this. I absolutely adored writing it and it has been so so touching to have you guys by my side for this! Without further ado, let's do this! -B***

Summary: MC has been returned, brought back to safety, and Solomon has been left behind. The world moves on, but MC and everyone else is learning just how hard "moving on" can really be.

Part 1, Part 2

CW: Panic Attack

Throbbing

Ceaseless, agonizing, throbbing.

Solomon groaned as he slowly blinked open his eyes and rolled onto his back. He tried to lift his head, but groaned as the ringing in his ears only grew louder.

"Fuck," he cursed as his head thudded against his hard wood floors. "What happened?" He mumbled to himself — His arm draped over his forehead as he turned his head to look in one of the many mirrors that were scattered around his house.

Silver eyes locked onto one another,

and the bubble keeping him blissfully ignorant burst.

Solomon gasped as he shot up. "MC! Oh no. No, no, no. Shit!" he tripped on his long, spindly legs as he scrambled to his feed, running desperately towards your room. He barely recognized the stairs or the direction he was fleeing as his mind drowned from the memories of the past two months flooding his brain.

He skidded to a stop as he slammed open your bedroom door and found not a soul in sight. His chest heaved, up and down, as his heart ran circles within his ribs.

You were gone.

They had taken you. The angels had taken you from him.

He shook his head as he blindly began to tear apart the room, searching desperately for any sign of you or of where you could've been taken. He ripped a drawer from your dresser. He swore under his breath as nothing but clothes and splinters of wood scattered across the floor.

Why? Why would they do this?

You were safe! You were with him, after all, and he was the strongest mage there had ever been and ever will be. He could make a hundred demons bow before him with a snap of his fingers. He-

He froze as his eyes fell to an empty glass you had left on your bedside table.

He had nearly killed you.

A hand clasped around his mouth as he weakly stumbled back. Somewhere, in all his overwhelming desire, his obsession, to protect you and keep you safe, he had done what he swore to never do, and he hurt you.

His hands trembled as his breath caught in his throat. Images of you, your face scrunched up in fear and disgust flashed behind his eyes. The sounds of your screams wailed in his ears.

He did this. He caused all of this.

He needed to find you and apologize.

Solomon quickly tried to shake off his panic and raised a hand to summon a portal.

The room sat still.

The wizard frowned and tried again, squinting his eyes this time. Once more, nothing happened. Solomon growled in frustration and rolled up his sleeves. "WORK! You stupid spell! Of all times why choose now to ... to ..." he trailed off as his eyes dragged over the skin on his arms — the clean, barren skin.

He swallowed thickly as tears welled in his eyes. "No," he breathed. "Please, fuck, no. This ... This is a nightmare. I'm dreaming this isn't," he pinched his arm. "Wake up." He pinched harder. "Wake up!" He slapped himself across the face. "WAKE UP DAMMIT!"

There was nothing left.

His magic. You. His pacts. It was all gone.

Solomon curled on himself, his body shaking fiercely as a hundred different emotions took over him.

A screech, with all the power and grief of the even the most tragic of Banshees, spilled out from the manors windows and painted the skies with the wizard's pain.

***

"When I went to stand up, I noticed I was feeling week, a-and that's when I realized he had done something to my drink. I passed out not too long after that," you whispered as you felt Asmodeus's arms tighten around you.

It had taken hours to get everyone to calm down, and even longer to explain everything that had happened.

You were now in the living room, seated in Asmo's lap as the demon nestled as closely to you as possible — his tears silently soaking the back of your shirt. The other brothers were surrounding you at every angle, giving you just enough room to look at contemplative Diavolo and Barbatos.

Diavolo frowned deeply as you told your story, his hands clenching and unclenching as you reached certain climaxes. His shoulders slumped with a heavy sigh as you finished explaining your side of things. "I am so sorry you had go through that, MC. I never would've thought ..."

"None of us did," Luke mumbled from where he and Simeon stood behind the prince. The young angel was clinging tightly onto his superior, showing his true youth more than ever before. "He ... He was supposed to be our friend."

A heavy, mournful silence filled the room at the admission. It was true. Solomon or at least the Solomon they had all once known as a friend. He'd help them whenever they found themselves stuck in some kind of magical mischief. He'd offered to make dinner for them countless times. He tutored Mammon during exams and would bring back anime merch for Levi from the human world. He was one of the few people that Asmodeus would allow himself to relax with, and who never once judged the brothers on their sins. Sure, they had always been skeptical of his intentions, but never once did any of them imagine he was capable of this.

Asmodeus scoffed as he lifted his face from your shoulder. "He's a monster. I don't care what that man says or tries, he will never ever be considered anything close to friend again," you gently squeezed his hand as the demon's voice grew tight.

Barbatos nodded sympathetically. "And we don't expect you to," his face grew solemn once more as he turned back to the angels. "I believe that the two of you can fill in the gap in MC's story?"

Luke's face paled at the suggestion — his ears still ringing from the sounds of Solomon's screams that he had caused. He opened and closed his mouth several times before Simeon placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped forward. "Solomon sent out a prayer."

Belphegor's nose scrunched in disgust as he crossed his arms over his chest. "He doesn't look like the praying type."

A sad smile climbed onto Simeon's expression as he locked eyes with the demon. "Any person desperate enough will cry out just to be heard. Solomon, for all his power and immortality, is still a person," his eyes slid back over to Barbatos. "When we arrived, he was ..." He hesitated as he glanced back over at you, and pursed his lips. "Is it, perhaps, not the best idea to recount this with MC still present?"

Everyone paused as they looked back at you. You continued to stare straight at Simeon, your eyes void of any emotion, lips a thin straight line, as you nodded. "Say it. I want to know."

Hesitance still clouded Simeon's judgment as he turned to Lucifer with a questioning gaze. The eldest huffed, "I'd rather they not leave our sight at the moment anyways. If they say they can handle it, let them stay."

The angel pursed his lips once more before continuing. "He was hunched over their unconscious body, mumbling to himself and trembling as he sobbed. I'd never seen him look so distraught before,"

You hated how easily you could picture that. As much as part of you hated Solomon for everything that he did, you still couldn't escape the flicker of sympathy and fondness that still yearned for the friend you once had in him. Part of you knew that everything that Solomon did, he did out of some demented, twisted version of love. You remembered how in the early weeks of your captivity he had gently walked you through the numerous panic attacks that you'd frequently endure, all while maintaining a comfortable distance. You remembered how he'd sit down across from you during every meal and give you his undivided attention as he softly told you about his day and described any of the beautiful sights or discoveries that he had stumbled upon.

It hurt to admit. It hurt to remember.

And regardless of the bitter resentment that darkened your view of him, it hurt to imagine that tender, love-sick man broken — crumbling to pieces at the consequences of his actions.

"I tried to demand answers from him, but only made him defensive, which in turn made Luke angry. He tried to attack Luke. As much as I hate that it happened, it gave me the chance to finally swoop in and take MC from him."

You inhaled sharply as your eyes snapped over to Luke, taking in his unblemished form.

Another person had almost gotten hurt — Another friend. Your hands fisted in your lap.

"He finally explained what the charm he applied to them was supposed to do," Simeon clenched his jaw as his eyes hardened. "As I said earlier. It's a potion that puts MC into a state where they can feel safe," his face scrunched up in distaste, as though just saying the words left a horrible taste on his tongue. "When I explained to him that it was exactly that, and the fact that MC couldn't feel safe around him that put them into their comatose state, he began to spiral even more," Luke tensed beside Simeon knowing what came next and clenched his eyes shut as he held his head down in guilt. " We knew action needed to be taken. Luke stripped Solomon of his pacts and magical abilities, promptly knocking him unconscious, while I tended to MC."

Your breath caught in your throat as the words acted like Medusa's gaze on your heart. "Y-You," you breathed as tears collected in the corners of your eyes. "Y-You got rid of his pacts? He ca-can't cast spells anymore?"

Luke nodded as he finally opened his eyes once more. "H-He won't be able to hurt you anymore," there was a certain confidence in his tone even as his voice trembled alongside his hands. "I made sure of it."

Mammon growled from your right, "He deserves a hell of a lot worse for what he put you and Asmo through,"

Diavolo tilted his head at the statement, "Yes. He did break a number of the agreements listed in the exchange contract," you flinched as Diavolo's golden eyes — all too similar to the golden eyes that had stalked your every movement — lit up like an inferno. "A personal offence such as this deserves a much more personal punishment."

Simeon's eyes narrowed at the statement. "As upset as I'm sure we all are about what has transpired, Solomon has already received his just awards," he stood taller as Luke cowered behind him with large, panicking eyes. "To let Solomon live the immortal life he's already subjected himself to, free of any and all of his powers, is more than punishment enough!"

Lucifer snarled as he rose to his feet, "And as I said earlier, you are not the one who gets to be the judge of that! It was our pacts that were lost because of him! It was our brother who was manipulated and taken advantage of! It was us who experienced every ounce of pain that he subject MC to in just the first day!" His lips curled back to bare his pointed teeth as he stood nose to nose with the angel. "Do not tell me what is and is not good enough for that worthless swine."

Barbatos, ever the all-knowing-peacekeeper was between the two of them in an instant. "Stand down, Lucfier. Your fight isn't with the angels."

You blinked as you tried to process the words Lucifer had shouted. Your mind slowly began to drift from your body as your breathing came out in shaky pants. Your distant eyes fixed on Beelzebub's concerned ones. "L-Lost?" you whimpered, causing the room to fall silent. "What does he mean lost? W-We can just make new ones, right? This ... There's no way that they're ..."

Asmodeus's grip around you tightened as Beel looked at you, both lost for an explanation and too afraid of the truth in the words that needed to be said.

You jumped as Satan placed a hand on your shoulder and carefully met your eyes. "We ... Demons can only make a pact with the same human once," you couldn't recognize yourself shaking your head at the words as denial filled your mind. "It's i-impossible for us to make another pact with you ... not after what he did." he rumbled as his expression slipped into momentary wrath.

"We should've fought harder against him," Leviathan whimpered as he clung onto your arm. "W-We could feel our connections slowly tightening, a-a-and we were just helpless! I've never felt so useless in my life. We didn't know where you were, and in that moment, i-it felt like we never would again."

Their words did nothing to comfort you. If anything, it only added to the building, all-consuming panic that was beginning to pulse through your veins.

"This is exactly what I was talking about," Lucifer spat, his eyes not moving from Simeon. "I'm not asking for your permission, or any of yours. I am telling you that Solomon will not be allow to breathe another breath in peace once I find him."

Your pacts were gone. Even if you had the brothers beside you ... Even if you were here in the Devildom ... You had no power anymore. You were just as weak as Solomon wanted you.

"Why is it always the same with you demons?! You always jump to mauling or death as punishment! Not everything has to end in violence! He's already going to be miserable enough!" Simeon finally snapped, his celestial origin shining brighter than ever before.

What if someone else came after you? You knew it was inevitable. How many brushes with death had you encountered in the last year alone? It was only by the grace of your pacts and your connection with the demons, and Solomon, that you survived. What would happen now?

Was Solomon right? Were you never safe here?

"Why are you taking this so lightly?!" Belphie piped in as he joined Lucifer's side. "You talk about us demons as though it wasn't you angels who started a war against us for something as innocent as loving a human! And now you dare to defend one for their crimes?"

The voices grew louder and louder around you as your heart pounded wildly within your ribs and stole the breath from your lungs.

You wanted to go back. You wanted things to be the way they were before. You couldn't stay like this. You can't.

"Fuck," Asmodeus swore behind you as he finally caught on to your panicked state. "MC?" he questioned as he lightly turned you to face him. He frowned at the sight of your unregistering eyes and wheezing breaths. "MC, can you hear me?" He cupped your face as your wide eyes continued to stare right past him. He cursed under his breath and pulled you close to cover your ears as he looked at the others. " HEY! We have more important matters to deal with at the moment than all you digging up the past if you could shut the fuck up and clue in, we have a situation!" In an instant, all eyes were on you as Asmo pulled you back to look at you once more.

Your lips were moving but no sound left them as your eyes darted around the room. "MC, please," Asmo begged as he squeezed your hands. "Focus on me. It's Asmo. You're okay. You're safe."

"No," everyone's hearts clenched at the fractured word. "Never. Not. C-Can't," your chest heaved as tears began to drip down your cheeks. "I c-can't. Can't."

Asmo flinched back at your words, hurt filling his expression as Mammon quickly moved to take his place. "None of that human," he gently cooed as he cradled your face, you winced at his word choice. "It's alright. We're here. We ain't going anywhere. We've got you. We're gonna protect ya, alright?"

You whimpered as you shook your head frantically and struggled out of Mammon's hold. "You can't! It doesn't work. Never worked. Not safe. Not safe!" You squeezed your eyes shut as you hands made their way to your hair.

Satan cursed from beside you and shoved Mammon back. "Give them space. They're spiraling. We need to get them to breathe and ground them."

Mammon slapped the hand away and glared at his brother. "So we just let them continue freaking themself out?!" He shouted as he gestured angrily over to you.

"I believe now is not the time for family bickering," Barbatos snapped sharply as he approached the group. "It was fighting that triggered this in the first place. They-"

You couldn't make out anything else as the sound of your blood thrumming through your skull pulsed behind your ears. You wheezed as you tugged at you hair and calmped your arms down tightly over your ears.

It was too much. You needed this stop. Go back.

Please just go back.

Suddenly your breath hitched as your body stilled. Everyone took an anxious step toward you as a faint shimmer washed over your body and you suddenly became relaxed.

You blinked slowly at Asmodeus as the concerned demon frantically looked you over in confusion. "Um ... Asmo? Is everything okay?"

It was Asmodeus's turn to blink at you in shock as his perfectly-plucked eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Is everything- MC are you serious?"

A cold feeling settled into all of their stomachs as they saw nothing but pure genuine bewilderment on your expression and realized that you were, in fact, serious.

"MC," Satan began softly as he moved to sit beside you and the others. "We were all discussing what happened with Solomon and you ... Well things got out of hand and you had an panic attack."

To everyone's surprise your disoriented frown only grew deeper. "Who's Solomon?"

No one moved.

"What?" Luke whispered in disbelief.

"Who's Solomon? Why are you guys looking at me like that?" You repeated as you squirmed under the heavy tension of everyone's stare.

No one breathed.

Leviathan turned to Lucifer with all the desperation of a child seeking their parent. "Wha- What's happening? Is this some kind of sick joke?"

Diavolo pushed his way forward, his face more serious than you had ever seen it, as he looked at you. "What does the name Solomon mean to you?"

You frowned at the concern that was practically dripping from his strangely firm voice. "I think there was something about him in the Bible? I don't know."

No one even blinked

Diavolo nodded in slow consideration. "Alright. And what about pacts? Do you remember anything at all about what we just told you about your pacts? Or what you went through throughout the past two months?"

You looked at the others like they were crazy. "What do you mean? What's wrong with my pacts?"

The prince opened his mouth to speak once more but was interrupted as Lucifer stumbled over to you and quickly took your face into his hands. You yelped as he tilted your chin up, obsidian eyes scanning your face desperately. "Ah- Luci? Y-You're a little close."

The demon just ignored as he brushed your hair away from your forehead. His breath hitched, eyes growing in pure disbelief as he suddenly and desperately began to pull up your shirt sleeves, yank down the collar of your shirt, and glance down your back.

You squeaked as you harshly shoved Lucifer away and glared at him. "Oi! Peeping tom! Keep your hands to yourself and tell me what is going on!"

"They're back," Lucifer uttered, no longer addressing you, but the others. "A-All of their pacts. I don't know how, b-but."

Leviathan tsked as he shook his head, pointedly not looking at you — refusing to allow himself to get his hopes up. "That's impossible. Once the pact is gone, it doesn't come back."

Barbatos let out a hum of contemplation as he peered over at you, and the colorful pact marks, once more in their rightful place, that Lucifer had revealed. "A charm that puts them in a state where they feel safe." Everyone's heads whipped over to the butler. "MC didn't feel safe without their pacts so ..."

"It brought them back," Simeon finished in shock.

Just like that, you suddenly found yourself tackled by the twins, and a bawling Asmodeus.

As confused as you were, it didn't take a genuis to see that whatever was happening had taken a huge toll on your boys. You slowly wrapped your arms around them and looked desperately at Diavolo as they clung to the spot where their mark resided and soaked in the comforting thrum of their magic in your veins.

You had no idea what was going on. One minute you were panicking about something, though you couldn't for the life of you remember what, the next you were as you are now: relaxed and lost in the emotional chaos happening around you. It was strange. You felt like you should be more worried, or worked up, or anything to match the high levels of concern, grief and now relief pouring off the supernatural entities in the room, but you couldn't. Your thoughts remained stubbornly at ease with everything happening around you.

"Obviously I'm missing something," you stated plainly as Asmo sniffled against your neck. "Can someone please explain?"

"Not now," Beel whispered against you as he held you tightly. "Just ... We'll explain everything in a bit."

Belphie hummed in agreement as he nuzzled against his mark. "Let us be selfish and just hold you for a minute."

Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan and Satan watched the group from a distance with the others. Their brows furrowed as you reluctantly let the topic drop — the, what would've been, adorably bewildered expression not once leaving your face.

"I don't like this," Mammon mumbled to them, hands gripping tightly onto his own arms from where they crossed over his chest. "I mean, yeah, it's amazin' that the pacts are back and I'm thankful as fuck, but ..."

Satan nodded, "The implications of that and what just happened aren't nearly as nice. If that charm could put them into a coma, erase the memory of an extremely traumatic event and person, and do the impossible by bringing back their pacts, there's no saying what else it could do if MC was ever put in a life-threatening situation again."

Luke frowned and glanced over at you as he fidgeted with his hands. "D-Do you ... Do you think it could kill them?"

Barbatos gently placed a hand on the younger angel's shoulder. As he looked down at Luke, his gaze wasn't soft or comforting as it perhaps should've been, but rather serious and remorseful. Luke's breath caught in his throat at just the sight. "We don't know enough about it yet to say. Assumably, as the charm is meant to keep them safe, it shouldn't but ..."

"It's already been proven that this 'safety' is by MC's definition." Lucifer huffed. "We'll have to keep a close eye on them until we can break it."

Simeon cocked an eyebrow at the statement, peering over at the demon. "And do you think that's possible? Breaking the charm, I mean. Solomon is a powerful wizard on his own, but with those pacts," he let out a shaky breath as he shook his head. "He was unlike any creature I've ever seen."

Diavolo took in the angel's words. He stood strong and stern, his mouth fixed in a strange frown as his soft eyes carefully kept watch over you and the younger brothers. "Solomon may have been powerful, but he would've had all the pacts in the world and still be alone with the way that he chose to live his life. MC has something he will never have," The prince smiled as looked over to Lucifer. "They have a family."

His smile grew slightly more solemn as he turned to Simeon. "I trust you, Simeon. You may not always be the perfect angel, but you are a good person," The angel's eyes widened as his lips parted for inaudible words. " I trust you. If you say that Solomon is taken care of, I trust that he is no longer a threat to MC or anyone else."

"But-" Levi tried to cut in, only to get stopped by Diavolo raising a hand.

"However," he continued, his voice dropping dangerously as his golden eyes hardened. "If I hear a single word about him causing any kind of trouble or interacting with my people again-"

"Then I'll bring him here myself," Simeon finished, his voice equally as cold. "And you and the others will be free to do whatever you please."

Diavolo hummed, his smile returning, revealing his deadly canines. "Then we have an agreement. As for the charm, we have nine of the most powerful demons in the Devildom and two extremely talented angels on our side. I imagine there isn't much we aren't able to do when we work together, wouldn't you agree Lucifer?"

Without taking his eyes away from your sheepishly smiling self, his mark practically sparkling in its proper place as you were smothered in the arms of his family, Lucifer couldn't help but smile. "Yes. I suppose you're right."

It was hard to say what the future held. The charm held a number of threats and worries that none of them could ever predict. Solomon was still out there somewhere and though he may not have power now, it was only a matter of time before he found an alternate solution. The brothers' were all healing from an event that you had no memory whatsoever about. Things were a mess.

But,

You were home. At least for now, you were safe. And most importantly, you were all together again.

And the brothers' supposed that for now that would be enough.

***Thank you all so so much for coming on this crazy journey! I do hope you all enjoyed it! This was both frustrating, sad, and so beautiful to write, but I hope you all love it as much as I do. Thank you all for the love and support that you constantly amaze me with. Remember to keep loving and supporting each other! -B***

TAGLIST:

@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino @rul-of-demise @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10 @vallison-rea @ivoryclive @newfangled-artistry @pumpkinpatchkid @chirikoheina @sailboat21 @avatar-mikazuki @reshi-galaxy @tootiredtodoanything @silentw-lker @firecatvariant @rsmrymnt-tea @wartombs @candymeowz @luvsbugs @lorkai @splashporpoise @lucidreamsxx @hobin-gnoblin @mutiachan @mymelodynumber1fan @infinnityverse @todoroses @big-bundle-of-little-mistakes @bunna-does-stuff @simpinginthecorner

#dark mage solomon #yandere solomon #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me fic #omswd fic #obey me shall we date fic #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #protective demon brothers #obey me demon brothers #obey me dateables #obey me solomon x reader #cw panic attack #obey me pacts #obey me lore #fanfic #fic #my writing

[bullet-prooflove]

Bruises - Joe Velasco x Reader

Tagging: @iyoskyslover @plaidbooks @misscharlielulu @witches-unruly-heart @orileyfiction @kimm4710 @ednastvincent @storiesofsvu @magic-multicolored-miracle @rosaliedepp

It was the bruising on your face that stopped Joe in his tracks. White butterfly stitches above your left eyebrow, sealing together a welt of broken skin that looked raw. The white of your eye was bloodshot, the socket marred with shades of indigo that swept down over your cheek bone.

His jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together as his mouth went dry. A storm was building deep down inside of him, crackling as it gained traction. The fingers on his right hand twitched, curling into a fist that made the skin stretch taut over his knuckles.

You glanced up from your desk, sensing the tension in the air.

“It looks worse than it is.” You reassured him.

It was a lie; you knew it and so did he. You didn’t need his anger, he knew that. He could see the weariness underneath the marks that marred your face, the exhaustion set in your shoulders. He took note of your badge hanging from the silver chain around your throat.

“You back for good?” he asked you, slipping into his seat across from you before taking out a bottle of pain killers from the top drawer of his desk and tossing them to you. You caught them with a wince, and he knew there was more damage underneath your clothes, bruises he couldn’t see.

“Yea. Thank God.” You said, wrestling with the child lock.

He wouldn’t trust Vice to look after a fucking plant, let alone a UC and the evidence was right in front of him. You’d been sequestered for a couple of nights to help with an operation involving some high rollers because of your previous experience. He’d missed you; he hated staring at the empty desk, wondering what was happening.

“Give it here.” Joe said, holding out his hand for the painkillers. You handed the container back to him, watching as he twisted his wrist, releasing the mechanism and pouring out two capsules onto his hand before depositing them in your palm. “You know a hot bath will help with the pain.”

He gestured to his torso as he spoke and he watched as your cheeks coloured, a pink flush creeping across them.

“You’re moving like your eighty.” He pointed out. “I notice shit like that.”

You sighed.

“Nothing gets past you, does it?”

He felt a smile twitch at the edges of his lips.

“I am a detective remember.”

You laughed and the sound was like sunshine warming his soul until you inhaled sharply and placed a hand over your ribs.

“Let me cook for you tonight.” He said quietly, shuffling and reshuffling some of the paperwork on his desk. “I’ll give you a ride home, let you soak in the bath while I make something.”

His dark eyes rose to meet yours and you knew what he was really asking.

Let me take care of you…

The words hung unspoken between the two of you. You felt like you were on the precipice of something, and you knew if you agreed things would change, you’d be letting Joe see your vulnerability, admitting that you needed him. He was the only thing you’d thought about over the past few days, how much his smile lit up your world, how even the briefest touch made your skin feel like you were electrified.

“I’d would love that.”

Love Joe Velasco? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#joe velasco #joe velasco x you #joe velasco x reader #jose velasco x reader #jose velasco x you #jose velasco #svu #law & order: svu #law and order svu #law and order: special victims unit #law and order: svu

[myobmaya]

Hi! I’ve been following you for a while and loved your Nightmares fic! Idk why but I’m a total sucker for sadness tonight. Can you write some Eddie angst? Maybe a breakup but they get back together at the end? Thank you 💖

why are y’all wanting angst and why am I so down for it? are we okay? should we carpool to therapy together? anyways here ya go! ❤️ tysm for the support and I apologize for any grammar errors it’s 10:30 pm and I wrote this up real quick so it’s short and simple, I’ll be back in the AM to clean it up. in the meantime enjoy! ❤️

Eddie Munson x Reader (no specific gender)

TW: couple breaking up

——

The empty beer bottles that littered the floor now lay in the garage can outside the house. The record that would normally be playing throughout the walls is tucked away inside its case next to the player soon to be collecting dust. Your clothes that were shoved into the wooden drawers are now neatly tucked away in the suitcase sitting by the door.

You didn’t mean to clean the messy house. Yet, you couldn’t bare to leave your home in the state it was. The subtle resemblance of your home that mirrored the state of your relationship.

It wasn’t fair to leave it like that to him deal with it.

It wasn’t fair to you to leave at all.

The soft rumbling of the car outside tears you from your thoughts. The clock on the wall confirms he’s off work and here as expected. You wait for him to walk through the doors. The inevitable coming to a head.

You sit at the table focusing on your breathing. You weren’t going to let him see your tears. Was it smart for you to have waited for him? It was evening time now and you were sure the street lights were to be turned in anytime now. You had plans to go back to your parents house until you figured out your next move. Maybe you should have just left and waited for him to hate your forever.

Your thoughts go wild and despite you wanting to run without him watching you, you know you owe him an explanation. Surely he knew the end of your relationship was coming. But after years of being with him you can’t stand the thought of just walking away without so much of a word as to why. Had you really thought this through?

On the opposite side of the door Eddie hesitates putting the key in the lock. His eyes close as he remembers this morning’s argument. Something about him missing a date? Was it a date? Fuck. No it was about him not helping around. Right? He takes a deep breath. He can’t even remember the full context of what the cause of the yelling for was this time but he’s tired of it.

He doesn’t want to live in the constant state of frustration.

He doesn’t want to carry on like this.

He wants things to go back to how they were. The way you two were two crazy teenagers in love. The people you were before life came and hit you both with reality checks.

The door opens and you stop breathing. His eyes look around the clean space. A change from the state it was hours earlier. You feel your chest grow tight watching as he looks around the floor. He know somethings off. The house is clean but it’s silent. Too silent. You’re silent.

His eyes fall to your suitcase. He meets your gaze and the wall you spent the past hour building tumbles down. Tears immediately burn but you swallow them down. Eddie’s hand meets his hip while the other runs down his face as a humorless chuckle fills the air.

There was nothing funny about this. He doesn’t know why he laughs. He doesn’t know what to do at all.

You look down at your hands biting back tears. He sees the way your shoulders struggle to stand tall. The way you dig your nails into your hands to hold onto some sort of strength. Strength he no longer gives you. He sees you holding back your emotions. You don’t want him to see the hurt. You used to be so open with him and now he watches as you fight yourself to remain stoic.

You’ve blocked yourself out. You cut him out.

You no longer where the care free person he met all those years ago. When did you slip away? When did he stop noticing?

It’s then he realizes he’s the reason for this. He’s the reason this is happening. Eddie takes a moment to himself and finally shut up as a sob replaces the laugh.

Tears gleam in his eyes but he doesn’t wan you to them. He shrugs his coat off and throws it on the couch. You keep your eyes down as he make his way over. He pulls out the chair from beside of you and sits down. A million questions go through his brain but he can only think of one.

“Do you still love me?”

It’s a genuine question. Not an ounce of malice is behind it. Just sadness. His question breaks the damn of the emotions you try to hold in. You’re quick to wipe away the tears. Eddie stares at you.

He watches you break down. He wants to comfort you. Tell you that he’s sorry and that everything will be alright.

But instead Eddie sucks in a breath as he leans back in the chair. An arm crosses his chest as the other runs down his face. He looks up at the ceiling. You look up at him.

“Loving you isn’t the issue, Eddie. Fighting you is and I can’t do it anymore.”

The sound of your sniffle breaks Eddie from his trance as the reality set in. His eyes met yours and for the first time in a long time he no longer sees frustration in your eyes. He sees the sadness replace the light that used to shine so bright. Eddie was never good with words but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t use them.

“Answer the question,” you go to cut him of but he stops you. “Because I know for a fact that I love you. I know that because even when we go to bed fighting the moment I see you in the morning and you kiss me goodbye I know we’re gonna be okay. You’re the biggest pain in my ass but god damn you’re the one I want to come home too.”

“Eddie-“

“No. No.” He shakes his head waving his hands. He needs you to hear what he has to say. He’a loved you for half his life and he’s going to continue to do so even if you walk out out of his life.

Eddie looks up at the ceiling again and then meets your watery eyes. “I don’t want to fight anymore,” Eddie whispers. His hands are now holding onto your shaky ones. He turns them over to lace your fingers with his. He didn’t care that they lay limp against the hold he has.

“I’m not going to fight you. We’ve done enough of that and I don’t want us to continue on,” he starts again. “But I will fight for you to stay and we work this out.”

#eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x gender neutral reader

[hettiesworld]

Name of fic: Come As You Are Pairing: Mike McLusky x OFC (Allacia) Plot summary: Allacia is one of Mike’s assistants with Rebecca and she used to “work” for Milo Sunter. Warnings: Spoilers for MoK season 2 (especially episode 7), fluff, implied smut. Author’s note: I have watched the recent episode of the show, and I was kinda right with what happened next?. 😂This is my own idea of what would happen. Of course, this fic is inspired by a picture I saw on Twitter and I just had to. You’re welcome and enjoy. 😉

Allacia unlocked Mike’s office door. He wasn’t at his desk. To be honest, he wasn’t in his office at all. But she heard his phone going off as soon as she opened his door.

Rebecca already went home, so Allacia was all alone in the office.

“Mike?” She called out to the empty room.

She went over to his desk and somehow managed to unlock the drawer that Mike always kept locked. She got a paperclip out of her pocket and opened it up. She fiddled with the lock, trying to get Mike’s phone out of it. The drawer opened eventually and she picked up the phone.

She noticed that his brother Kyle was trying to call him, so she answered it.

“Hello, Mike? I need to talk to you.” She heard the voice coming from the phone. “Kyle? It’s me Allacia. Mike locked his phone in his desk drawer, for some reason.” She replied to him, closing the drawer and sitting in Mike’s chair. “Alli? What are you doing in his office so late at night?” He asked her. “I was doing some paperwork. What did you want to talk to Mike about?” She questioned Kyle.

She heard Kyle sigh into the phone. She knew he was kind of distressed as his breathing became quicker with every huff.

“Fuck. I-I just saw Iris. At this nightclub, I went to.” He panted. “What? Which club? I’ll tell Mike… wherever he is.” You got a pen and a piece of paper out and waited for Kyle to tell her the name of the club he went to. “I don’t know. The sign on the building is very unclear on what the name is.”

Allacia rubbed the bridge of her nose as she took off her glasses.

“Okay, okay… I’ll go and find Mike and see what’s happening with him. It’s weird why he’s done this.” She said to him. “You know where you’re looking?” Kyle asked her. “Yeah… I know a few places.” “Be careful out there, okay?”

Allacia just nodded. She knew how to protect herself out there on the streets of Kingstown. She could shoot a gun and could stab someone with a knife.

“I will. Go home to Traci, she needs you.” She said to him softly. “Of course, I will. Mike needs you too, you know that right?”

As she heard Kyle’s words, she hesitated for a moment. She was worried about Mike. Was he kidnapped? Or did he just go out for a walk to calm himself down?

Kyle knew about her inevitable crush on his brother. He figured it out quite quickly. Allacia was quite obvious with the lovey-dovey eyes she gave Mike, mostly all of the time.

“I know. I’ll let you know if I find him okay?” “Yeah. Let me know.”

Allacia heard Kyle end the call and she threw Mike’s phone on the desk, sighing and leaning her head back on the chair. She tried to figure out where Mike could be at this time.

His cabin? Bunny’s territory near the laundromat? The ice rink? Evelyn’s office?

There were many places, but she knew exactly where he could be.

She then got up from his chair, picked up his phone, and walked out of his office.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☾ . :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.･

Meanwhile, Mike was sitting at the bar counter, drinking some whiskey. He didn’t know what was going on in his mind at the moment.

Well, just about everything. Milo, Iris, Bunny, Kyle, and his family.

And then there was Allacia. All those feelings of uncertainty fogged up his thoughts as he put his head in his hands.

Was he falling in love with her?

He didn’t realize Allacia walking into the bar, as his back was facing the front door. Her heels clicked on the wooden floor. She recognized Mike’s suit and the short sandy-brown hair.

She shook her head as she noticed the way he was slouching forward.

She eventually stood next to him and sighed softly, seeing the state he was in.

“Mr. McLusky…” She muttered quietly. “Sorry, I’m not interested.” He instantly said before asking the bartender for another drink. “Mike.”

He turned his head towards her voice and was shocked to see her standing there.

“Alli?” He gulped, the bags under his eyes were visible to her chocolate brown eyes. “What are you doing here?” “I should ask you the same question.” She mumbled under her breath.

She then sat on the barstool next to him, her body fully turned towards Mike. He had taken off his tie, maybe it was because he was getting hot and sweaty in the warm temperatures of the bar. Or maybe it was the whiskey he was drinking.

She put up her hand and shook her head, denying the offer for a drink from the bartender.

“Why did you run away? I know you did, don’t deny it like you always do.” She asked him. “I didn’t technically run away.”

She scoffed at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. You did. Me and Kyle were worried about you.” “You talked to Kyle?” “Well yeah, I didn’t have a choice. You locked your phone in your desk drawer. He was calling you, so I managed to unlock it and answer the call for you.”

Mike then turned his head towards you as you put his phone on the bar counter, sliding it to him. He managed to catch it with his left hand and put it in his pocket.

“You answered my phone?!” He grumbled. “What the fuck was I supposed to do Mike? You weren’t answering your brother, who could’ve been in distress. Which he was, by the way. He found Iris.”

Mike froze for a moment.

“What?” He faltered, the words were coming out slowly. “He found Iris. He found her in some kind of nightclub. Unfortunately, he didn’t know the name of the club. The sign was very unclear to read.” She explained to him.

Mike just groaned as he placed his head on the counter.

“I’m guessing you’re not bothered to know that just yet, huh?” Allacia said to him, hearing his groaning. She kinda knew what was going on inside of his head.

All of this was just too much for Mike. Sometimes she didn’t want him to take this job at all. Give it to someone else.

But before Mitch got shot, he wanted Mike to take over, despite Mike denying the offer over and over again.

All she saw was Mike nodding his head, grunting again.

She then stood up and pushed the half-full glass of whiskey away from Mike. She then crossed her arms and stared at him. “Come on Mike. Let’s go home.” “No. Let me stay here and wallow in pity.” Mike retorted.

Allacia just sighed.

“For fuck sake Mike, get out of the fucking chair, or I will physically pull you off of the stool.” She exhaled a little bit. “Pft. You’re not strong enough to even lift me.” “Oh yeah? Try me.”

Somehow, she managed to successfully pulled him off of the stool and outside of the bar.

“Stop being such a grumpy pants and get in the car.” She commanded him, pushing him towards her car. “I’m going to take you home.” “I don’t have a home.” He whined back as he tried to open the passenger door.

She rolled her eyes as she opened it for him.

“What?! What about your cabin?” She asked him. “Can’t go back there anymore. The FBI closed it off, so I can’t enter it, just like the last office we had.” Mike explained, muttering every word.

He climbed into the passenger seat and just sat there, staring forwards at absolutely nothing.

Allacia sighed and rolled her eyes, mumbling to herself, “You are going to be the death of me, Mr. McLusky…”

She closed the passenger door before walking over to the driver's seat, opening that door, and getting into the car. She shut the door afterward.

“Fine then. I’ll take you to my house. You’re lucky I have a spare bedroom.”

She started the engine and drove out of the bar’s carpark onto the main road.

Allacia’s house was just outside of Kingstown, not as far as Mike’s cabin, but it was away from all the chaos of the town.

“So where were you sleeping exactly? In the office?” questioned Allacia.

Mike stayed silent, looking down slowly. He then eventually said something after a moment of silence. “What do you think?” “Mike. If you would’ve told me this earlier, I would’ve let you stay at mine.” Allacia spoke in a hushed tone, keeping her eyes on the road.

Mike finally looked at her after being silent for most of the car ride.

“Wait what? You would do that for me?” He faltered as he nervously looked at her. “Mike, just because I’m your assistant, doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you. We’ve been working together since your brother Mitch was the mayor.” She explained to him.

Mike just smiled at her, the first time he has that night.

“Thanks, Allacia. For being there for me.” “No problem. I know what you’re going through. Trust me.”

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☾ . :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

They finally arrived at her house and she parked the car in the driveway. Mike was sobering up as he managed to get out of the car.

She unlocked her front door and let Mike in first, turning on the hallway light and closing it behind her. She put her keys in her usual spot; a container that was on a shelf near the door.

Mike made himself at home, sitting on the black leather sofa in the living room.

Allacia put down her handbag, took her phone out of it, and put it on charge. She placed it on the TV stand.

She then took a creamed-colored sweater and put it on.

Mike watched as she walked into the kitchen, which was connected to the living room, and was pouring 2 cups; one was coffee and the other was herbal tea. It was peppermint flavored of course.

Herbal tea was Allacia’s guilty pleasure whenever she wanted to relax after a busy day.

She came back into the living room with the mugs, holding them from the handles. Mike raised an eyebrow at her and she noticed it. “What?” “Are you sure coffee is a good idea after I just had alcohol?” He disputed, taking the cup of coffee in his own hands. “Well, I don’t know what else you like, besides black coffee. You want me to get you anything else?” She hesitated, trying to grab back the cup of coffee.

Mike smirked at her, pulling the cup away from her grasp.

“No, no! It’s fine now. The damage is already been done.” He taunted, chuckling a little bit. “I’m going to be more hyper now, thanks to you.”

She rolled her eyes yet again, sighing at his teasing.

“How are your parents doing? Heard they were in prison…” Mike asked her, after a moment of silence. “I don’t know and I don’t care.” She shrugged her shoulders, carefully sipping her peppermint tea. “What did they do exactly? You haven’t told me about them.”

Allacia just looked at him with a sad look on her face.

“They were part of a gang. Not one that you’ve heard of though. My father was the leader of them and they were the cause of the mass shootings in Kingstown in the late 80s.” Allacia explained. “After they went into prison, I had no one to take care of me, not even a big brother or sister. I was like… 12 at the time.”

“Didn’t you like, go into an orphanage back then?” “Pft, you think the orphanage here in Kingstown took in a black kid, whose parents were big-time criminals back in the late 90s - early 2000s? Yeah right.” She scoffed, putting her cup down on the coffee table.

Mike felt sorry for her. He didn’t have a good childhood back then either.

“I’m sorry.” “Don’t be, that’s the way life goes. Of course, when I was in my early 20s… like 20-21, I went into some bad things.”

Allacia sighed. This was it. She was going to tell her about how she already knows Milo.

“You know about Milo right?” She mumbled to him.

Mike froze yet again. Did she use to work for Milo back then?

“Yeah… you worked for him?” Mike hinted, kind of already knowing what her answer was going to be.

All she did was nod.

Tears fell silently from her eyes as she tried to wipe them away. Mike wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into her chest.

She didn’t care, it was quite nice to be in his arm as she broke down. Her head was buried in Mike’s chest, his shirt was now wet from her salty tears. He patted her head, shushing her softly and trying to comfort her in some way.

“Hey. It’s okay. You know he can’t hurt you anymore.” He comforted her, rubbing her back with his other hand. He felt her nodding. She wouldn’t let go of his grasp.

“Not when I’m here to protect you.”

Allacia lifted her head to meet Mike’s blue-grey eyes. He stared back at her.

He then noticed she was fiddling with the sleeves of her sweater.

Was she nervous to be around him? Mike was nervous when he thought of her. His hands would shake slightly and he would adjust his suit every time she would enter his office or any other room he was in.

“Mike…” She would whisper to him. “Alli.” He would quietly reply to her, stroking her hair softly. “Thank you. For everything.”

#jeremy renner #masterlist #hettiesworld #mike mclusky x oc #mayor of kingstown #mike mclusky