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beyondthesefourwalls · 7 months ago
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This is always such a fun one to revisit.
Wrong Number | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley was planning on a quiet night at home with a beer and a basketball game on TV. When he receives a text from a wrong number, he's left looking at a beautiful photo of you. Now he just needs to persuade you to ditch the guy you meant to text and focus on him instead.
Warnings: Fluff, swearing, slight dirty talk, Bradley touching himself
Length: 4700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written for Rocktober. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger
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Bradley had endured such a long week at work, all he wanted to do was change out of his uniform, grab a beer from his fridge and lounge around on the couch in his underwear without a responsibility in sight. Nobody should have to work until ten on a Friday night, but it had taken him that long to sort through the massive stack of paperwork from Admiral Simpson. At least now he had nothing planned for the rest of his evening.
His apartment was too hot, and the cold bottle of beer pressed to his bare thigh as he reached for the TV remote left some droplets of condensation. It felt good. He took another sip as his phone vibrated next to him. With a soft grunt, he abandoned the remote in favor of the phone and unlocked it with his pass code.
There was a new text from an unknown number. And there was a photo attached. He grimaced, afraid of what he was going to find if he tapped on it. He read the phone number twice, but it didn't sound familiar beyond the San Diego area code. He let his head tip back as he recalled the time he pissed Nat off and she gave his phone number to a random sailor in retaliation. Bradley really hoped he wasn't going to have to kindly ask someone to stop sending him dick pics like last time. 
Before he lost the nerve, he tapped on the message, and his screen was suddenly filled with a photo of a woman who looked just a few years younger than him. And she was hot. He paused with his beer bottle halfway to his lips before letting it settle back down to his thigh. 
Hey, Alan. It's me. So now you have my phone number, too.
Bradley didn't know who the hell Alan was, but he wasn't mad about the mix-up. This photo was something else. It almost looked like it was taken in the bathroom at the Hard Deck. The lighting was bad, and there was a paper towel dispenser in the background, but whoever you were.... damn, you were stunning. All pretty features and smiling like you had a secret. 
It took him a moment to stop staring at the photo and return to the previous screen and your message. He was going to have to tell you that he wasn't Alan and that you had the wrong number, but he just sat there and tapped his phone case instead. He didn't even like the name Alan, but damn if he didn't want to be Alan right now. That lucky bastard had you interested in him. 
Bradley was wondering how the mix-up happened in the first place as he drafted up a text to you. Only some sort of fucking idiot wouldn't check and double check that he gave you the right number. "Amateurs," he mumbled as he typed with a little smirk on his face.
Hey, sorry to inform you, but this actually isn't Alan. However, I wouldn't mind one bit if you kept sending me the photos that are meant for him.
He hit send and tossed his phone aside, assuming you'd just block him and move on with your night. He brought his beer bottle back to his lips and enjoyed the way the drink helped cool him down while he contemplated taking a shower, but when he reached for the remote again, his phone vibrated. 
There was another message from the same number. Intrigued, Bradley unlocked his phone again, and he was pleased to see another text and another photo.
Hi, Not-Alan. Sorry about that! I hope you have a great night.
This photo was similar to the first one, except that you were flipping him the peace sign and winking which made Bradley laugh. You seemed fun, even through this limited interaction. And he was sure that was the ladies' bathroom at the Hard Deck, which pissed him off, because he got out of work so late he didn't feel like going out tonight. Maybe if he had been there, you wouldn't have been talking to Alan in the first place.
"Damn it." He was intrigued. He wanted to know more about this.
My night is substantially better now that I have two photos of you. So where did Alan get off to anyway? And why is he trying to steal my phone number?
This time Bradley was dying for another response. But it didn't come. He stared at his phone for a solid minute before returning to his beer and downing the rest of the bottle. Still nothing. He stood and made his way into the kitchen, tossing his empty into the recycling bin before getting another one from the fridge and eyeing up the food situation. He should probably eat something, but he swore he heard his phone vibrating. When he looked over to the couch, the screen was lit up. 
He slammed the fridge door and opened the new bottle before heading back to his phone. There was no photo this time, but there was a new message.
I actually lost Alan in the crowd, so really, the man could be just about anywhere. And I don't think he was trying to steal your number at all, Not-Alan. He wrote it on my palm, and it smeared before I could add it to my phone.
"Okay," Bradley said out loud. "Now we're getting somewhere." He sat down on the couch with his beer on the coffee table and started a new message. 
Alan should learn how to write neater in the future, because he's missing out here. You have to double check that someone who looks like you got the number right. Everyone knows that.
Bradley decided that he was going to have no shame for the night. Not as long as you kept writing back to him. He was contemplating how to save your number in his phone when another selfie with a message came through. You were out by the bar at the Hard Deck with a smile on your face, and you were holding up your palm complete with Bradley's smeared phone number.
Does this number look familiar, Not-Alan? Still no actual Alan in sight, by the way. 
Bradley supposed that the 7 could have been mistaken for a 1. Or maybe Alan's phone number had a 5 that got smeared into a 6. It didn't really matter. Bradley was going to shoot his shot and hope Alan didn't resurface. 
Good, Alan can just stay lost. What's your name, pretty girl?
Then he saved your number as Pretty Girl, and this time he did manage to turn the TV on while he waited with his phone in his hand. He muted the Clippers game and picked up his beer before promptly setting it back down again.
Pretty Girl: Not so fast, Not-Alan. You tell me your name first. And how old you are. And your blood type and the last four of your social security number. 
Bradley laughed and started typing. He realized he hadn't stopped smiling for the last twenty minutes as he hit send.
I'm Bradley. I'm 34. O positive. 2305.
On a regular night, the basketball game would have held his attention, but tonight he couldn't stop looking at his phone. "Come on, Pretty Girl," he muttered, running his beer bottle along his thigh before taking a sip. 
Pretty Girl: Okay, Bradley. You have my attention. Send me a selfie exactly where you are, and I'll think about telling you my name. No changing into something nicer. No fixing your hair. Just a selfie. Right now.
Bradley looked down at himself in just his black boxer briefs and mumbled, "If you say so." When he set his phone camera to selfie mode, he looked at the screen and realized his hair still looked pretty decent from work. So he went ahead and took a picture where he was wearing a bit of a skeptical smirk, and he sent it before he could think twice. 
And now his heart was beating a little faster. This was probably where you'd stop responding. Oh hell, at least he went for it, but a few minutes later, you still hadn't sent anything back to him. Maybe he could have tried to hide the scars on his neck and cheek, but what was the point? Clearly you were sending him actual selfies you'd taken tonight, and he did exactly what you'd told him to. Then his phone vibrated.
Pretty Girl: Do you really expect me to believe that you're not just googling "hot shirtless guy with a mustache", downloading a photo, and trying to pass it off as yourself?
He tipped his head back and laughed. There was just something about you. He didn't even know your name or what your voice sounded like, but he could already tell he was going to like both of those things. If you ever told him or let him hear you.
That's really me. Promise. Will you tell me your name now? Or do I have to keep calling you Pretty Girl?
He was wondering if you were still at the bar, surrounded by guys like Alan who would love to take you home while you were chatting with him. And he hoped the next text would contain your name. But you just ignored him when you wrote back a few minutes later. 
Pretty Girl: Prove you're not just sending some photos of a random hot dude. Go stand by your open refrigerator and take a selfie. Then take another one with your toothbrush. 
"She's a handful," Bradley murmured as he stood with a smile. He carried his beer into the kitchen, opened his refrigerator and snapped a selfie where the fridge light somehow accentuated his features nicely. Then he left his beer on the counter while he went into his bathroom. He was actively trying not to smile for this one where he had his red toothbrush hanging out of the side of his mouth, but he was on the verge of laughing at how ridiculous his night turned out to be. 
He typed up a message and attached both photos and then sent them off while he finished his beer at the kitchen counter, Clippers game forgotten. 
What is this, Pretty Girl? A hostage negotiation? I already told you, that's really me.
It didn't take too long for you to respond this time, and Bradley wasn't even letting his screen dim long enough to need to unlock it now.
Pretty Girl: Are you naked in these photos?
"Jesus," he muttered. Of course he wasn't. Did you want him to be? Shit, he needed to stop thinking about that.
No! I'm wearing underwear. You told me not to get changed or anything.
He felt flushed and too warm as he set his phone down on the counter and went to open some windows. Then he walked a few laps around his apartment in an effort to chill the fuck out. He wasn't even with you, and you were under his skin. 
When he returned to his phone, there was a selfie and a message waiting for him. In the photo, you were sipping a drink, and the way the straw pressed to your perfect lips had him practically moaning. 
Pretty Girl: My friend thinks there's something wrong with me. I'm at a Navy bar in San Diego at the moment. There are hot guys galore, and yet I'm glued to my phone. 
"Shit, shit, shit." Bradley thought about getting dressed and heading out to the bar himself. Then maybe he could hear you tell him your name in person right before he pulled the straw away from your mouth and kissed you.
How much longer are you going to be at the Hard Deck, Pretty Girl?
Bradley started heading for his bedroom closet when his phone vibrated in his hand.
Pretty Girl: How do you know I'm at the Hard Deck? Do I need to smash my phone to bits and go into hiding?
"Fuck," he grunted, typing so quickly he had to go back and fix several spelling errors before he could send it. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable, so he paused before getting any clothing out of his closet.
Because I'm in the Navy, and I live in San Diego. And I recognized the inside of the bathroom from the first photo you sent me. I swear I'm not creepy. You can ask Penny, the bartender and owner of that fine establishment. I spend enough time there. Show her my photo.
Bradley collapsed onto his bed with his forearm over his eyes and his phone clutched to his chest. He didn't have to check the time to know it had been a while since he texted you. He also didn't have to look at his phone to know it was after midnight now and that you and he had been chatting for almost two hours. Bradley jolted when the phone vibrated against his chest.
Pretty Girl: Okay. Alright. Penny is a sweetheart, and your story checks out. Also, she told me your call sign and then told me to have you verify what it is for my own peace of mind. So what is it, Bradley? And how do you know what the ladies' restroom here looks like?
Oh, he was going to owe Penny big time. He typed away as he lay sprawled out on his bed.
My call sign is Rooster. And as for your bathroom question.... are you really going to make me answer that?
Bradley closed his eyes and thought about the girl who had taken him into the bathroom with her last year. He was pretty sure she had brown hair, but other than that, he couldn't really recall. But he did remember looking at that paper towel holder on the wall and the framed photo of an F/A-14 that was hanging over it while he was in there with her. 
He wouldn't mind taking a trip there with you, that was for sure. Or maybe you and he could skip the scandalous bar hookup and just go right to dinner or a movie. For some reason, he thought he might actually prefer that.
Pretty Girl: Be back soon. I'm getting a ride home.
Bradley mused out loud, "It better not be from Alan." Shit, he could have offered to go pick you up and make sure you got home safely. He'd only had those two beers all night, and now he was picturing some faceless guy named Alan driving you home and pawing at you.
He texted you back.
Let me know when you get home, okay? And you can always just call me.
With a sigh, he got out of bed and plugged his phone in, not sure what to expect at this point. He went back into the bathroom and used his red toothbrush. And then he went back to the living room and closed all the windows. When he was in his room again, he had no new notifications as he climbed in bed. He was about to text you again and check in when his phone rang.
CALL FROM Pretty Girl
Bradley was smiling as he answered. "Hey, Pretty Girl."
A soft laugh preceded your voice, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek as you said, "Hi, Bradley with the O positive blood. Are you trying to tell me that you were in that bar bathroom with a girl?"
He found himself laughing. "Can I plead the fifth?"
When you moaned softly, he dropped his phone onto the pillow and had to scramble to get it. "Oh, my god. Even your voice is sexy."
Okay. He should not be on the verge of touching himself after you spoke three whole sentences to him. "You make it home safely?" he asked, trying to play it cool as he thought about those photos you sent him. 
"Mmhmm. A very nice man named Alan drove me home. He's right here next to me as I get changed for bed."
Bradley thought for a beat that he had met his match in you. "You better be lying. You know what, put Alan on the phone."
Your laughter filled him up as you said, "He's not really here. I had to ditch him, because he doesn't even have a mustache. Apparently that's a deal breaker for me now?"
Holy shit. Bradley was in trouble. He was getting turned on, and you weren't even really saying anything dirty. "You're killing me. You gonna tell me your name, Pretty Girl?"
"No. I think I'm going to hold onto it a little longer."
"Fine. But please explain to me how I've never seen you at the Hard Deck before. I'm certain I would remember your face."
Your voice sounded a little softer now as you said, "I just moved to Coronado. It was my first time at the bar."
If he hadn't worked so late today, Bradley would have probably been there tonight as well. "You had fun? You think you'll go back again?"
"Probably," you replied casually. "When do you think you'll be there?"
Bradley was so warm he was starting to sweat. "Pretty Girl, you just say the word, and I'll clear my whole damn calendar."
Your little sighs and soft giggles were going to be the death of him. "You know, I still have Alan's, or rather your phone number on my hand."
He imagined himself kissing your palm and rewriting his phone number. "Should be in my handwriting. I'll make sure I always bring a pen with me to the bar."
You cleared your throat softly, and Bradley imagined you climbing into bed. "Penny told me to watch out for some of the other guys. But she said you're okay."
"Just okay?"
"Actually, she called you a big, brown eyed puppy dog."
Bradley laughed. "I've been called worse."
"I'm sure you have," you replied quickly. "You deserve some sort of punishment for daring to look good with a mustache."
"It's a blessing and a curse. Now, are you going to send me another photo? Or are you going to just agree to meet me tomorrow night?"
He heard a rustling noise and then you softly said, "Alan is not going to like this one bit." And then another photo arrived, and this one had Bradley's mouth hanging open. 
"Now it's my turn to ask if you're naked in this picture." He was taking in every inch of your exposed skin and your bedding tucked up to your collar bones. You took your makeup off for bed, and you looked cozy and intimate. And you were talking to him. You were letting him see this. Bradley had to actively think about not touching himself. 
"Totally naked."
"Fuck."
"Send me another one?"
"Yeah," he grunted, swallowing hard as he tried to pose for another selfie just how he was, sprawled out on his pillow with his left arm bent and tucked back behind his head. But his cheeks looked flushed, and his eyes looked darker than usual. He was turned on. 
Fuck it. He snapped the photo and sent it. And about ten seconds later, he was greeted with the strangled sound you made.
"It should be illegal for someone with that mustache to look so good. It's rude, honestly. Bradley, you're kind of rude, because now I want to know...."
He was hanging on your every word. "Know what, Pretty Girl?"
The call went completely silent before you said softly and sweetly, "What your mustache feels like...everywhere."
A soft, startled laugh escaped his lips. You were on the verge of some dirty talk now, he could just tell. And his cock was hard as he replied with, "I'd love to let you find out. But before you respond, I need to know how much you've had to drink tonight. I don't want to take advantage of anything here."
You whimpered on the other end of the call. "A mustache, brown eyes, and a gentleman? All Alan did for me was buy me those two Long Island iced teas."
Bradley grunted and said, "That's enough about Alan. Why don't you go ahead and tell me where you'd like to feel my mustache first, Pretty Girl."
You squeaked and said, "I want to feel it rough along my skin right below my ear while you whisper to me. Oh my god, I can't believe I said that out loud. I should just go to bed."
"Don't hang up," Bradley said, panting with need now. "Tell me more."
"Okay," you sighed with another little squeak. "I want to feel it on my lips. While I'm sitting in your lap, licking the taste of that beer you drank from your mouth."
"Holy shit," he groaned, palming himself through his boxer briefs.
"I know," you whined with need. "And I want to feel it on the back of my neck while you do filthy things to me. And I don't even know you!"
"You will," he guaranteed. "Please, tell me what time I can meet you tomorrow."
Bradley listened to the rustle of your sheets as he waited. Then you finally said, "Seven o'clock? At the Hard Deck?"
"I'll be there, Pretty Girl. I can't wait to see you."
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It was barely even 6:30, but you were already at the bar all made up and wearing a cute dress. Penny recognized you right away, which was kind of nice and kind of embarrassing. When she asked if you wanted another Long Island, you waved her off and said, "Nothing yet. I'm meeting someone."
Her eyes lit up as she asked, "Is it Rooster?"
You'd barely slept all night, preferring to look at the four selfies he'd sent you after you ended the call around two. There was a little more dirty talk, sure, but you and he also learned a bit more about each other. And now you were going to meet this naval aviator who was originally from Virginia but loved the Los Angeles Clippers face to face. 
"Yeah. It's Rooster."
Penny looked truly delighted. "You have nothing to worry about. He's very sweet."
"Tell that to the butterflies," you muttered as you placed one hand on your stomach for a beat, willing the nerves to dissipate as you walked away. You'd told Bradley you wanted his mustache on your body. In several places. And then he told you he thought you were so pretty and fun that he wanted to kiss you everywhere. And right now you were just mystified as to how this could have possibly happened only a week after you moved to this neighborhood. And you still didn't know what happened to Alan after you went to the ladies' bathroom and saved the wrong number in your phone.
You laughed when you thought about it, and then you ran your hands along the fabric of your dress. You were so antsy, your palms were sweaty. You looked down at yourself and just got more nervous. Bradley hadn't seen much of your body in the photos you'd sent to him. You'd seen plenty of his though, and he looked tall and muscular even next to his damn refrigerator. And his face was gorgeous, right down to that sinful looking mustache. 
And you were just... you. Alan was really more your speed with his nerdy glasses and messy hairstyle and his lack of ability to even grow any sort of facial hair at all. You just hoped that Bradley wouldn't take one look at you in person and walk right back out of the bar. 
You were about to tell Penny that you thought you needed a drink after all when the door caught your eye, and Bradley strolled into the bar like he owned the place. "Oh...fuck," you whispered, gaping at him as he ran his fingers through his hair. The photos hadn't even done him justice. He had to be over six feet tall, and he was so broad and muscular, he looked like he could pick you up and toss you around a little bit. "Shit." He was wearing some snug fitting jeans and a tropical print shirt like he just knew he could pull off the most ridiculous look. "Damn." He was glancing around, trying to find you while you started scouring the room unsuccessfully for another exit. 
You were trapped in here, and he was walking further into the bar now. And you didn't think you could hide halfway behind this couple who was making out for very much longer.  
As Bradley's eyes scanned the crowd again, he looked a little apprehensive. His brow was scrunched, and he checked the time on his watch. You knew it was almost seven. So you took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then you scooted one step to your left. When his gaze came your way again, his eyes landed on you. And then his face softened. The apprehension melted away, and he smiled a cute and somehow sexy little grin that made you whimper.
Now he was heading your way, his gait sure and steady. And then he was just a few feet away and you could see the scars on his face that you'd studied all night in the photos. And you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes that somehow the selfies didn't capture. And then he was talking, and his voice was even better in person.
"Pretty Girl."
Okay, so he'd seen you up close, and he wasn't running away. That had to be a good sign, right? You managed to say just one slightly breathless word. "Hi." And then his smile grew, and he was closing the space between your body and his. He was reaching for your face and running one rough thumb along your cheek. And then he kissed you.
And the soft scrape of his mustache was even better than all of the ways you'd spent your night imagining it might feel. You couldn't help but return his kiss, and somehow your hands ended up pressed to the front of him, sliding up to his chest. 
When he broke the kiss, he stayed close, his lips not far from your face. He covered your hands with his, keeping them on his body. And then he leaned close to your ear, his mustache scraping along your soft skin there as he whispered, "Tell me your name, Pretty Girl. I'm dying here."
Soft laughter bubbled out of you as he pulled away from you a bit, and those butterflies were going wild. His eyes were fixed on your face, begging for an answer this time as he stroked your hands with his thumbs. And then you told him, and he tried your name out on his tongue a few times with that grin that you liked so much. He kept saying it softly until you kissed him this time, and then he guided your arms around his neck. 
"Listen," he said in that raspy voice that you'd love to focus on all night. "I have no problem staying here for a while if you want to. I bet you could even persuade me to join you in the ladies' room."
"Sounds tempting," you told him with a smirk.
"It really does. But we could also just ditch the bar and grab dinner instead? Maybe watch the Clippers game and have a drink at my place? I'm a little worried Alan might show up here and try to lure you away, if I'm being honest."
You practically snorted with laughter. "I can't even really remember what Alan looks like. He was totally gone from my mind after the first selfie you sent me. Let's get out of here."
He took you by the hand. "Anything you want, Pretty Girl."
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I love dreamy loverboy Bradley, and I love Pretty Girl too. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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cutiepuff · 3 months ago
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some of y'all NEED to read "anne of green gables" SO urgently.. you would LOVE l.m. montgomery i promise
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adragonflys2peni · 8 months ago
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Good morning it’s the first day of pride and I am thinking about Psych. Of course. Who could’ve predicted this? Anyway this is what I think they’d be doing at pride. <3
- Shawn and Gus go together (obviously)
- Shawn is decked out in merch, pins and stickers and little flags
-Gus dressed nice but wore a little pin. Eventually he became covered in rainbow paint. Shawn thinks this is hilarious and Gus is willing to let it slide because it’s pride
- Lassie is there as a cop (boo cops at pride) but he also has a pan pin
- If it’s later in the season then Marlowe comes and covers him in rainbow kiss marks
- Jules is in the parade with the roller derby girls on skates, she has a flag as a cape and rolls around to people to give them hugs
- Chief Vick is there with daughter handing out informational packets on how to stay safe (water, whistle, don’t get separated, wear sunscreen, etc.)
- Husband is still never seen, she tells them that he’s going around giving free dad hugs to people
- Mr. Vick (he took Karen’s last name) I know we’ve never met you but I know you’re a good man
- Henry is there and I think it’s so funny that Shawn is always shocked to see him out of the house “Dad!?!?? What are you doing here?!???”
- Shawn isn’t out to his dad yet and shits himself and tries to joke his way out of the situation
- “Kid, I’ve known you like boys since you were five, when you told me you were going to marry Gus.”
- IMMEDIATE embarrassment from Shawn (his ass doesn’t remember he blocked that out!! Denial!!!) but also very relieved
- Henry may be an asshole but he is not homophobic!!
- Also a murder happens at pride and they have to solve it because homophobes are trying to blame gay people, the pridegoers are saying it was a hate crime, and they have to figure out who killed the guy and why before the whole situation escalates
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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year ago
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This was delicious. There’s just something so appealing about a fumbling shy kind of awkward man getting confident in the bedroom???? Oh man oh man.
Full of Surprises
Summary: You learn some surprising things about Bob at the end of a date.
Warnings: oral (f receiving), subtle Dom/sub tones, Bob being pussy drunk, language, takes place before TGM
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Robert Floyd was, without a doubt, the sweetest man you had ever met.
He refused to let you open the door, whether it be to restaurants or the car. He insisted on walking on the outer section of the sidewalk, closest to the streets. He came into your classroom after school to help you with laminating and cutting out math games for your students.
When he gently kissed you goodnight, his hands would softly cup your neck, his thumbs absentmindedly stroking your jawline, nose brushing against yours.
It was a gentleness that you didn’t think still existed. You certainly didn't expect to find it in Lemoore of all places.
But sometimes your Robby was considerate almost to a fault.
At the end of the first date, you invited him in for coffee. Your hope was that he would feel more comfortable kissing you if you were inside and not out in the hallway of your apartment.
But Bob just gave you that endearing, slightly crooked smile as he shook his head. "If I drink coffee now, I'll be up all night," he told you.
You couldn't even be mad because you knew he was being genuine. It also helped that he asked when he could see you next immediately after.
On the second date, you stood on the tips of your toes so you could kiss his cheek. The sight of his glasses fogging up, combined with his face turning bright red melted your heart. You had hoped the action would be enough for him to realize you wanted him.
Instead, he kissed your cheek while he stammered out his question of when he would get to see you again. It was such a sweet sight that you couldn't be mad, though disappointment still ran through your body when you walked into your apartment by yourself.
By the fourth date, you had enough of quick pecks on the cheeks, and opted to grab Bob by the collar, pulling his lips onto yours. He was a great kisser, once he got over the initial shock of your action and his brain fully processed what was happening.
Kissing you back made things simultaneously better and worse. The way he would cup your face, gently tilting your head up to deepen the kiss still made your head dizzy. Goosebumps flared your skin when you thought about how it felt when one of his large hands was firmly planted on your waist, pulling you closer to him.
You wanted him to take you against that door right then and there.
But Robby was a gentleman so all he did was kiss you. Which left you no choice but to shove a hand in between your legs later on that night as you imagined how his hands would feel on other parts of your body.
You wouldn’t call yourself a horndog, but the WSO made it really difficult to think straight when he would casually put his hand on your knee, his fingers caressing the soft skin of your thigh.
So here you were, towards the end of your seventh date with Bob, who was walking you back to your apartment.
You had been trying to send him less subtle messages this time. You wore a sundress, hoping the exposed skin might provoke him to be more daring.
He definitely tried to get glimpses of your chest. But every time you looked at him, he'd just blush and stammer how pretty you looked tonight. Which while sweet, did nothing to soothe the ache between your legs.
Bob's breath would hitch everytime you pressed your body against his. A faint scarlet flush had crept up his neck to his face as soon as he saw you in that dress and it had stayed there for the whole date.
"I had fun tonight," you told him as your fingers grazed over the collar of his shirt. Briefly, your fingers brushed against the skin underneath.
"I did too. Always do when I'm with ya," He said, the drawl you adored coming out. Bob could read the phone book to you and you swear you'd be enthralled.
Your touch was electric. Bob tried to focus on those bright beautiful eyes of yours, but he couldn't help but wander to your full lips. He tried looking away in an attempt to be respectful, but his eyes instead turned to the straps of your dress, tied together by a soft, velvet fabric. If he undid those knots, the dress would fall down, revealing your-
He had to get out of here.
Bob was crazy about you -in fact- he was ninety-five percent sure he wanted to marry you. Therefore, the last thing he wanted to do was come off too strong and scare you away, or worse, disrespect you.
From the corner of your eyes, you saw him beginning to take a step back.
No. Not tonight.
You stepped forward, your eyes straight on him. You made your way towards Bob with such focus and precision, it caught him off guard (a huge feat considering his job). It was how you were able to press your lips against his.
His kisses were sweet yet intoxicating, like honeyed wine on a summer afternoon. Normally you weren't one to overindulge, but tonight, you wanted all of him.
Your hands tangled themselves into his hair, gripping onto his dark blonde locks in a desperate attempt to keep his lips pressed to yours. The action caused you to lightly tug onto his hair. What could best be described as a soft moan fell from Bob's lips.
Your eyes opened, shocked that such an erotic noise came from the man you were kissing.
It also sent heat straight to your core.
Bob's bright blue eyes flew open, realizing that the noise he had prayed was just in his head, actually came out of his mouth.
He broke away, his neck and face bright red. You were positive if you undid the first three buttons of his shirt, his chest would be red too.
"I-I should go-"
"Don't you fucking dare." You grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him back in. With great care, you took several steps backwards, pulling him in so you were both inside your apartment.
It was your display of how desperate you were for him that made Bob realize that perhaps he didn't have to go home and get himself off tonight with his hand.
That was what gave him the confidence to keep his lips pressed to yours. You closed the door (locking it without looking was much harder than you originally thought), your hands returning to his soft hair.
You pushed him towards the couch. Bob, finally getting the message, sat down, spreading his long legs.
His lips were gone from yours for only a minute, as you quickly straddled his waist, your thighs on the outer side of his.
Everything about him was addicting. The scent of sage flooded your nostrils. His jeans felt rough on your bare thighs, creating fiction when you shifted forwards.
Bob used his hands to tilt your head back, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. Your hands were everywhere now- his hair, his shoulders, his chest.
It felt like you couldn't get close to him, despite being literally on top of the WSO. His hands found themselves on your hips, gripping the fabric of your dress, causing the hem to rise further up your thighs.
You leaned your whole body forward, your hips grinding downward. The movement, combined with the friction your clothed core received from his jeans was absolute heaven. Before you could even think, a desperate mo an fell from your lips as your hips repeated the action again.
Bob snaked a hand up your neck, grabbing onto the ponytail your hair was done up in. A sharp tug pulled you back, forcing you to face him.
His normally well-kept hair was ruffled, a loose curl falling over his forehead. A prominent red flush had overtaken his face, his lips glistening from the sloppy kisses you were just exchanging. Glasses askew, those deep blue eyes were so overblown, they looked near black.
It was the hottest sight you had ever seen.
"What do you want? Tell me." His voice was deep, gruff. You were surprised with how commanding he was as he demanded an answer from you.
Bob tightened the grip he had in your hair, pulling you out of your thoughts, "C'mon darlin', tell me what ya need."
"You, Robby. I want you."
Sweet Jesus, you were going to be the death of him.
The next thing you knew, Bob's arms were wrapped around your waist and you were no longer on the couch. You were no longer on the ground, the bespectacled lieutenant holding you.
"Where's your bedroom? I'm doing this properly, not on a couch."
Despite your head spinning and your whole body flushed with heat, you managed to explain that your bedroom was down the hall and to the left.
He followed your directions with precision, or at least he tried to. Your lips had found their way to his neck, peppering the skin with kisses.
It was when your teeth sank into that sweet spot, right underneath his jawline, that he stopped in the hallway, a guttural groan falling from his lips as it took everything in Bob to not come in his pants right then and there.
Your back was now pressed against the cool wall. As his lips attached themselves to your neck, you couldn't help but throw your head back, gasps falling from your lips as his teeth grazed your hot, sensitive skin.
His mouth moved down to your collarbone and the tops of your breasts. His teeth were sinking into your flesh now, sure to leave marks that would be visible by tomorrow morning.
"Tryin' to be a gentleman and you make it so fuckin' hard with that mouth of yours. Can't even get ya to a bed so I can take ya properly." You moaned at his words, it being the first time you had heard Bob curse. His accent was thicker, his words sending heat all over your body, but particularly the spot in between your legs.
"Fuck, you sound so pretty when you do that," he said before his tongue lapped over a bite mark he had left on your neck.
"R-Robby, b-bed," you whimpered, your hips frantically bucking up in a desperate attempt to feel some friction.
Somehow, someway, the two of you made it into your bedroom. The back of your head softly touched your pillow, your body now splayed on your bed. You looked up, your eyes meeting those sapphire blues of Bob's as he hovered over you.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" He chuckled.
The neat ponytail you had out your hair in at the beginning of the night was barely holding things together, fallen pieces framing your sweet face. Your lip gloss was now smeared, thanks to him. He could see the bite marks he had left along your neck and collarbone.
You looked good, marked up as his.
One of the ribbons tied as a strap of your dress had loosen, causing the fabric to fall a bit from your chest, exposing your breasts even more. The hem of your dress had bunched up towards your hips, exposing the lacey soft blue panties that Bob definitely saw earlier in the evening when you bent over to pick something up and he hadn't been able to get the sight out of his head until now.
Now he had the whole view.
Your head was spinning. You hadn't expected this side from Bob. Quite honestly, you had prepared yourself that if things ever got physical between you two, you would be taking the reins.
You were wrong. Oh so very wrong. You had never been happier to be more wrong in your life.
"C-can I taste you?" His voice was soft, despite his hands gripping your thighs. He looked unsure, almost worried that somehow, he would go too far if he didn't ask.
It made your heart melt. It also made you want to give this man as many children as he wanted.
You nodded your head, "P-please Robby. Want your mouth on me."
Bob groaned, "You're gonna be the fucking death of me, I swear."
A giggle escaped your lips, though it was short lived as Bob's fingers quickly found the waistline of your panties, tugging them down and off your legs.
"Y-you're really pretty," He stammered upon seeing the sight of you laid out for him.
You smiled, a hand reaching up to stroke his cheek. Bob gave you that sweet, soft smile that made you melt, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.
Because even though he had been dying to get his hands on you since your third date, he was never going to pass up an opportunity to kiss you.
The moment was sweet. You didn't realize how much you needed it until you felt the tension leave your body as his lips brushed against yours.
Bob broke away, giving you that sweet, slightly crooked smile before situating himself between your legs.
You opened your mouth, ready to give more words of encouragement to make him feel comfortable.
That wasn't necessary, as Bob planted his face in between your thighs with zero hesitation.
A curse fell from your lips, not that you could help it. That was impossible with how his tongue felt, licking stripes from your entrance to your clit.
Bob's mouth continued to surprise you tonight. First by showing he actually knew how to curse. Second (and more importantly), his mouth was very talented.
Upon his tongue lapping at your entrance, the tip of his nose brushing up against your clit, your hands latched onto his sun kissed hair.
You tasted fucking divine and somewhere, in the back of Bob's brain, he was wondering if you'd prefer an engagement ring with a gold band or silver band.
But then you tugged on his hair as you continued to let out another pretty moan. Thoughts of ring bands left his head as his lips attached themselves to your clit, alternating between sucking and kitten kicks.
You gasped upon feeling a thick finger enter you. You looked down, your eyes meeting Bob's.
What a sight that was. His lips still latched onto your clit, but stilled. Those beautiful blue eyes on you, watching, waiting for your next movement to help him decide what to do next.
"Please don't stop Robby."
"You know what that does, callin' me that. Don't ya?" The smirk forming on his face was new to you. It reeked of confidence, something you loved to see.
Your grin said it all.
Which is why Bob didn't feel bad when he added a second finger to you. In fact, that's why he smirked upon seeing your back arch as you fell apart on his fingers and tongue.
It was ridiculous, truly ridiculous, how fast he was able to find that sweet spot that had you falling apart. His fingers felt so good you couldn't stop the moans coming out of your mouth.
Not that Bob minded. In fact, with the pretty sounds you were making, combined with your addicting taste, he couldn't help but grind his hips into the mattress, looking for some type of relief.
You saw the action (he wasn't trying to hide it) and it caused your hips to buck up towards his face because holy shit, how was this man real?
"You taste so good," He groaned into you, sending vibrations all the way up your spine.
"A-and you say m-my mouth is killer," you managed to grit out.
Bob chuckled, sending more vibrations throughout your body.
You felt a third finger thrust against your walls. The grip you had on his hair was so tight, you were surprised he hadn't complained about it (maybe he liked it, anything was fair game at this point).
His name fell from your lips over and over again, like a prayer. Not that there was anything holy about what his mouth and fingers were doing. As if he could sense the coil in your lower stomach tightening, he placed his other hand on your abdomen, applying pressure.
You lunged forward, as much as you could with your thighs wrapped around his head as the coil snapped. It hit you like a strong wave, causing you to come up and crash down over and over again.
His fingers and tongue kept working through your orgasm, prolonging your high. The lewd sounds of your wetness against his fingers filled your bedroom.
"Fuck you taste amazing," you heard him say, his hips frantically rutting into your mattress.
"C-can I keep going?" He asked, his fingers still curling up against that sweet spot.
You groaned at the sight of his chin and lips covered in your slit, hoping he could see you nodding enthusiastically despite his glasses having fallen further down the bridge of his nose.
Bob's mouth went right back to your soaked core, lapping up your slick. Every time his nose bumped against your sensitive clit, a jolt of pleasure courses through your body.
His fingers were meticulous, curling against that spot over and over again with precision. You didn't expect his skills as a WSO to transfer into the bedroom, but it made sense. He had to be focused, whether it was on other jets or (in this case) making you come again.
What didn't make sense was how the guy who was so quiet and shy that his glasses fogged up when you kissed him on the cheek was now making you see stars.
All it took was for you to look down, your half-closed eyes meeting those deep blue, for you to come undone again. This one felt more intense, most likely due to the groans Bob was pressing against your slicked core.
You threw your head back, eyes closing your eyes as you rode through your current orgasm. When was the last time someone had made you come twice by eating you out? Has that ever happened?
You attempted to catch your breath as your brain processed what just happened.
Robert Floyd may be shy, but not in the bedroom. A pretty important lesson.
You were also pretty sure it would be the biggest mistake to not marry this guy, but you could think about that later.
Upon feeling long fingers gently stroked your cheek, you opened your eyes to find Bob's face now inches away from yours.
"D-did…..did you enjoy that?" Bob asked, a faint red flush creeping from his neck to his face.
Nodding your head, you smiled, "I think it's time I return the favor."
"Oh you don't, I mean not that I don't want you to, it's just, I uh, I-I-" as Bob rambled you looked down, noticing the dark, wet-looking spot that had formed at the crotch of his jeans. Realization hit you, causing you to clench your thighs.
He came from eating you out.
Yup, you were marrying this man. You'd be the biggest idiot not to.
"S-sorry," Bob stammered, his eyes looking everywhere but you.
Using your elbows, you propped yourself up, "Hey. It's fine. It's actually more than fine, it's really fucking hot."
His eyes widened, his demeanor resembling more of the shy, nervous man you first met in the library on that fateful day.
A hand flew to the back of his neck, "I just, I meant it, you sound really pretty when you make those noises. Not that you don't sound pretty when you don't make them. You're always pretty and you do taste amazing, whatever diet you're on-not that you should change for me- what I meant-"
You giggled as your hands cupped Bob's face, pulling him in for a kiss. Partly to throw him a rope, but mostly because you couldn't believe this sweet man was all yours.
He shifted his weight, his chest now directly on yours, deepening the kiss. As his hands found themselves on your waist, a familiar ache began between your thighs.
"It's just a shame," you broke away from his lips, "I like to think I have a pretty talented mouth too and was hoping to show you."
Bob's eyes darkened, his breathing now heavy.
"Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be ready. Plus that's enough time to get you out of this dress," He said, his tone serious.
Robert Floyd was full of surprises. But was that so bad?
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autistichalsin · 5 months ago
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In retrospect, four years later, I feel like the Isabel Fall incident was just the biggest ignored cautionary tale modern fandom spaces have ever had. Yes, it wasn't limited to fandom, it was also a professional author/booktok type argument, but it had a lot of crossover.
Stop me if you've heard this one before: a writer, whether fan or pro, publishes a work. If one were to judge a book by its cover, something we are all taught in Kindergarten shouldn't happen but has a way of occurring regardless, one might find that there was something that seemed deeply problematic about this work. Maybe the title or summary alluded to something Wrong happening, or maybe the tags indicated there was problematic kinks or relationships. And that meant the story was Bad. So, a group of people takes to the Twittersphere to inform everyone who will listen why the work, and therefore the author, are Bad. The author, receiving an avalanche of abuse and harassment, deactivates their account, and checks into a mental health facility for monitoring for suicidal ideation. They never return to their writing space, and the harassers get a slap on the wrist (if that- usually they get praise and high-fives all around) and start waiting for their next victim to transgress.
Sounds awful familiar, doesn't it?
Isabel Fall's case, though, was even more extreme for many reasons. See, she made the terrible mistake of using a transphobic meme as the genesis to actually explore issues of gender identity.
More specifically, she used the phrase "I sexually identify as an attack helicopter" to examine how marginalized identities, when they become more accepted, become nothing more than a tool for the military-industrial complex to rebrand itself as a more personable and inclusive atrocity; a chance to pursue praise for bombing brown children while being progressive, because queer people, too, can help blow up brown children now! It also contained an examination of identity and how queerness is intrinsic to a person, etc.
But... well, if harassers ever bothered to read the things they critique, we wouldn't be here, would we? So instead, they called Isabel a transphobic monster for the title alone, even starting a misinformation campaign to claim she was, in fact, a cis male nazi using a fake identity to psyop the queer community.
A few days later, after days of horrific abuse and harassment, Isabel requested that Clarkesworld magazine pull the story. She checked in to a psych ward with suicidal thoughts. That wasn't all, though; the harassment was so bad that she was forced to out herself as trans to defend against the claims.
Only... we know this type of person, the fandom harassers, don't we? You know where this is going. Outing herself did nothing to stop the harassment. No one was willing to read the book, much less examine how her sexuality and gender might have influenced her when writing it.
So some time later, Isabel deleted her social media. She is still alive, but "Isabel Fall" is not- because the harassment was so bad that Isabel detransitioned/closeted herself, too traumatized to continue living her authentic life.
Supposed trans allies were so outraged at a fictional portrayal of transness, written by a trans woman, that they harassed a real life trans woman into detransitioning.
It's heartbreakingly familiar, isn't it? Many of us in fandom communities have been in Isabel's shoes, even if the outcome wasn't so extreme (or in some cases, when it truly was). Most especially, many of us, as marginalized writers speaking from our own experiences in some way, have found that others did not enjoy our framework for examining these things, and hurt us, members of those identities, in defense of "the community" as a nebulous undefined entity.
There's a quote that was posted in a news writeup about the whole saga that was published a year after the fact. The quote is:
The delineation between paranoid and reparative readings originated in 1995, with influential critic Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick. A paranoid reading focuses on what’s wrong or problematic about a work of art. A reparative reading seeks out what might be nourishing or healing in a work of art, even if the work is flawed. Importantly, a reparative reading also tends to consider what might be nourishing or healing in a work of art for someone who isn’t the reader. This kind of nuance gets completely worn away on Twitter, home of paranoid readings. “[You might tweet], ‘Well, they didn’t discuss X, Y, or Z, so that’s bad!’ Or, ‘They didn’t’ — in this case — ‘discuss transness in a way that felt like what I feel about transness, therefore it is bad.’ That flattens everything into this very individual, very hostile way of reading,” Mandelo says. “Part of reparative reading is trying to think about how a story cannot do everything. Nothing can do everything. If you’re reading every text, fiction, or criticism looking for it to tick a bunch of boxes — like if it represents X, Y, and Z appropriately to my definitions of appropriate, and if it’s missing any of those things, it’s not good — you’re not really seeing the close focus that it has on something else.”
A paranoid reading describes perfectly what fandom culture has become in the modern times. It is why "proship", once simply a word for common sense "don't engage with what you don't like, and don't harass people who create it either" philosophies, has become the boogeyman of fandom, a bad and dangerous word. The days of reparative readings, where you would look for things you enjoyed, are all but dead. Fiction is rarely a chance to feel joy; it's an excuse to get angry, to vitriolically attack those different from oneself while surrounded with those who are the same as oneself. It's an excuse to form in-groups and out-groups that must necessarily be in a constant state of conflict, lest it come across like This side is accepting That side's faults. In other words, fandom has become the exact sort of space as the nonfandom spaces it used to seek to define itself against.
It's not about joy. It's not about resonance with plot or characters. It's about hate. It's about finding fault. If they can't find any in the story, they will, rest assured, create it by instigating fan wars- dividing fandom into factions and mercilessly attacking the other.
And that's if they even went so far as to read the work they're critiquing. The ones they don't bother to read, as you saw above, fare even worse. If an AO3 writer tagged an abuser/victim ship, it's bad, it's fetishism, even if the story is about how the victim escapes. If a trans writer uses the title "I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter" to find a framework to dissect rainbow-washing the military-industrial complex, it's unforgivable. It's a cesspool of kneejerk reactions, moralizing discomfort, treating good/evil as dichotomous categories that can never be escaped, and using that complex as an excuse to heap harassment on people who "deserve it." Because once you are Bad, there is no action against you that is too Bad for you to deserve.
Isabel Fall's story follows this so step-by-step that it's like a textbook case study on modern fandom behavior.
Isabel Fall wrote a short story with an inflammatory title, with a genesis in transphobic mockery, in the hopes of turning it into a genuine treatise on the intersection of gender and sexuality and the military-industrial complex. But because audiences are unprepared for the idea of inflammatory rhetoric as a tool to force discomfort to then force deeper introspection... they zeroed in on the discomfort. "I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter"- the title phrase, not the work- made them uncomfortable. We no longer teach people how to handle discomfort; we live in a world of euphemism and glossing over, a world where people can't even type out the words "kill" and rape", instead substituting "unalive" and "grape." We don't deal with uncomfortable feelings anymore; we censor them, we transform them, we sanitize them. When you are unable to process discomfort, when you are never given self-soothing tools, your only possible conclusion is that anything Uncomfortable must be Bad, and the creator must either be censored too, or attacked into conformity so that you never again experience the horrors of being Uncomfortable.
So the masses took to Twitter, outraged. They were Uncomfortable, and that de facto meant that they had been Wronged. Because the content was related to trans identity issues, that became the accusation; it was transphobic, inherently. It couldn't be a critique of bigger and more fluid systems than gender identity alone; it was a slight against trans people. And no amount of explanations would change their minds now, because they had already been aggrieved and made to feel Uncomfortable.
Isabel Fall was now a Bad Person, and we all know what fandom spaces do to Bad People. Bad People, because they are Bad, will always be deserving of suicide bait and namecalling and threatening. Once a person is Bad, there is no way to ever become Good again. Not by refuting the accusations (because the accusations are now self-evident facts; "there is a callout thread against them" is its own tautological proof that wrongdoing has happened regardless of the veracity of the claims in the callout) and not by apologizing and changing, because if you apologize and admit you did the Bad thing, you are still Bad, and no matter what you do in future, you were once Bad and that needs to be brought up every time you are mentioned. If you are bad, you can NEVER be more than what you were at your worst (in their definition) moment. Your are now ontologically evil, and there is no action taken against you that can be immoral.
So Isabel was doomed, naturally. It didn't matter that she outed herself to explain that she personally had lived the experience of a trans woman and could speak with authority on the atrocity of rainbow-washing the military industrial complex as a proaganda tool to capture progressives. None of it mattered. She had written a work with an Uncomfortable phrase for a title, the readers were Uncomfortable, and someone had to pay for it.
And that's the key; pay for it. Punishment. Revenge. It's never about correcting behavior. Restorative justice is not in this group's vocabulary. You will, incidentally, never find one of these folks have a stance against the death penalty; if you did Bad as a verb, you are Bad as an intrinsic, inescapable adjective, and what can you do to incorrigible people but kill them to save the Normal people? This is the same principle, on a smaller scale, that underscores their fandom activities; if a Bad fan writes Bad fiction, they are a Bad person, and their fandom persona needs to die to save Normal fans the pain of feeling Uncomfortable.
And that's what happened to Isabel Fall. The person who wrote the short story is very much alive, but the pseudonym of Isabel Fall, the identity, the lived experiences coming together in concert with imagination to form a speculative work to critique deeply problematic sociopolitical structures? That is dead. Isabel Fall will never write again, even if by some miracle the person who once used the name does. Even if she ever decides to restart her transition, she will be permanently scarred by this experience, and will never again be able to share her experience with us as a way to grow our own empathy and challenge our understanding of the world. In spirit, but not body, fandom spaces murdered Isabel Fall.
And that's... fandom, anymore. That's just what is done, routinely and without question, to Bad people. Good people are Good, so they don't make mistakes, and they never go too far when dealing with Bad people. And Bad people, well, they should have thought before they did something Bad which made them Bad people.
Isabel Fall's harassment happened in early 2020, before quarantine started, but it was in so many ways a final chance for fandom to hit the breaks. A chance for fandom to think collectively about what it wanted to be, who it wanted to be for and how it wanted to do it. And fandom looked at this and said, "more, please." It continues to harass marginalized people, especially fans of color and queen fans, into suffering mental breakdowns. With gusto.
Any ideas of reparative reading is dead. Fandom runs solely on paranoid readings. And so too is restorative justice gone for fandom transgressions, real or imagined. It is now solely about punitive, vigilante justice. It's a concerted campaign to make sure oddballs conform or die (in spirit, but sometimes even physically given how often mentally ill individuals are pushed into committing suicide).
It's a deeply toxic environment and I'm sad to say that Isabel Fall's story was, in retrospect, a sort of event horizon for the fandom. The gravitational pull of these harassment campaigns is entirely too strong now and there is no escaping it. I'm sorry, I hate to say something so bleak, but thinking the last few days about the state of fandom (not just my current one but also others I watch from the outside), I just don't think we can ever go back to peaceful "for joy" engagement, not when so many people are determined to use it as an outlet for lateral aggression against other people.
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radiant-reid · 7 months ago
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you should write about dad!spence finally putting his foot down and saying no to his daughter and IMMEDIATELY regretting it after seeing her cry and reader is just like “my two softies”
"More," Alison asks, reaching out for the cheese packet on the countertop. If there's one thing your two-year-old likes to eat, it's cheese.
Effortlessly, Spencer's carrying her against his hip while he helps you prepare dinner. Homemade, love heart-shaped pizzas. You're working the dough while he's on toppings. However, that means feeding her all the cheese she wants.
"Manners." Spencer corrects.
She looks up at him with her big eyes. "Please, daddy."
He hands her another handful of cheese. She has no clue how wrapped around his finger she is. It makes you laugh slightly across the counter from him.
"You do as well." Spencer reminds you, basically reading your mind. Like usual. "Anything my girls want, they get." It's not an exaggeration.
"That's why I drive such a nice car." You say with a grin. "But two-year-olds need to eat their dinner."
There's a little bit of a warning tone to your voice that Spencer picks up. You wait to see how it goes when Allie sticks her hand out again. "More please."
Spencer shakes his head. "No, baby. We get yummy pizza for dinner soon."
Allie's eyes fill up with tears as she pouts at him. Her puppy dog eyes exceed even yours and you know it breaks his heart easily. There's no way he can resist her eyes when they're the same color as yours. Everyone around her treats her the way he does, especially Aunt Penelope.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He quickly retracts his statement, handing her some more cheese. It's too late for her tears and he wipes them up quickly. "It's okay, baby. I won't deprive you of mozzarella."
"You're such a softie." You laugh. "A trait you've passed on to this baby softie." You sneak a kiss on Allie's cheek when you come over to put the dough down.
Spencer pouts at you. "No kiss for me."
"I'm sorry, handsome." You give him two to make up for it.
"Gotcha." He grins at you. "You're a softie too."
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beyondthesefourwalls · 8 months ago
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The praise and reassurance he gives her makes me weak. There’s just something about this man demanding you see your worth🫠
Heat To Boil
Summary: After a failed Tinder date, you go to hang out with your friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin. When you get to his house, you unexpectedly find him with a baby, and it is a sight that rewires something in your head. Jake needs a baby of his own. Right now — like yesterday, actually. And that is a task you would be more than willing to help with; now, you just need to find the courage to bring it up.
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Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Word count: 9k
AO3 Link
Warnings: 18+ Only, Friends to lovers, baby fever, smut, P in V, Oral, Hangman with a baby (deserves its own warning)
Author's note: The attorneys at work keep bringing their babies in and letting me hold them, and @top-hhun has done absolutely nothing to discourage the subsequent baby fever I've been dealing with. Anyways, that's where this fic came from. I hope you enjoy this. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.
You had become friends with Jake unexpectedly some years ago, hitting it off at your mutual friend's wedding. Part of you had, of course, hoped the attractive blonde aviator would be interested in you, maybe in a romantic sense, but it never came to fruition. He shipped out the week after the wedding, but the easy rapport you carried with him started with sharing jokes about how trashed other people got at the reception, and eventually developing into a true and close friendship. 
It was for the best because the more you got to know Jake, it became clear to you that he didn't want the same things that you did. He was focused on his career and didn't have time for a partner. When he did talk about settling down, it was never in an authentic way, more joking that he was waiting to swoop in if Coyote's marriage fell apart or that his Mama would set him up with a nice southern belle who wanted to give her twelve grandkids. Jake would claim he was too busy for a relationship, away from home too much to be steady. However, none of that seemed to stop him from finding time for you, which is probably why you hadn't been able to completely repress your feelings for him despite some valiant efforts. 
Just today, after a failed lunch date with someone from Tinder, you texted Jake disheartened. He hadn't hesitated first to ask if you were okay and then invited you over for dinner to tell him all about it. He had even promised to cook you whatever you wanted. A special treat guaranteed to make you feel better, considering Jake's superb culinary skills. 
You walk into Jake's house without knocking or ringing the bell, knowing he left the door unlocked in anticipation of your arrival. After securing the front door's lock into place, you toe off your shoes, making sure to set them neatly in line with the others there. Jake's home is clean and tidy, just like it always is; the organization of the entry is no exception. You know from the smells and sounds wafting towards you that he must still be cooking, which is odd because he's almost always done by the time you show up. 
Venturing further into the house you see him, standing in the kitchen, with a baby strapped to his chest. It's an unexpected sight, and you're frozen by it. Jake's in a casual white teeshirt, jeans, and a dark navy blue sling with a camo pattern wrapped tightly around him, securing a tiny infant in place against his broad chest. His hair is fluffy like it often is on his days off, and the golden strands fall across his forehead. Seeing it like this always creates an instinctual desire to run your fingers through it. However, you can hardly even process that thought because you're so distracted by the bundle on his chest. Music is playing on his record player, and he is humming along. 
Jake suddenly stops the humming, and the prep he is doing, looking down at the baby. After a pause, a smile pulls at the edges of his lips, his eyes crinkle before he drops a kiss on the infant's head. And it's like everything is right. Jake with a baby seems so natural. The fact that he exists any other way than with a baby in his arms every day feels wrong. Your heart starts beating harder in your chest, and a thought pops into your head, instantly taking deep root: Jake needs a baby of his own. Right now — like yesterday, actually. 
You don't know what sound you must have made, but Jake looks up and finally notices you standing in the hallway. He doesn't appear at all startled as a wide grin spreads across his face as he greets you, "Howdy there, Doll!"  
"You have a baby," you say stupidly in an entirely delayed response. 
"Yeah, this little guy is Jackson. Coyote and the Mrs wanted a date day, so I offered to watch the baby for them. They were supposed to be here two hours ago to pick him up, but I'm sure they just got caught up." Jake laughs and presses another kiss to Jackson's head. Before continuing on, "I hope you don't mind."
"No, I don't mind," you manage to breathe out, unable to tear your eyes off Jake or even pretend you're not staring. He quirks an eyebrow at you but otherwise doesn't comment. After he gestures for you to join him, he returns to the cutting board in front of him. You are transfixed; when you sit down at the bar in the kitchen, it occurs to you that you should probably say something and not just stare like an idiot. "Do you want me to take him?"
"I think he is just fine here," Jake says, examining the sleeping baby strapped to his chest again. Jackson has hardly moved since you showed up, clearly passed out, not disturbed by the music or any of the kitchen sounds. 
"At least let me help finish cooking then?" You request. 
"No, Ma'am. Bubba and I have this dinner taken care of. I did pick up that wine you like from the store. Maybe you can open it up for us?" 
Entering the kitchen, you pull out two wine glasses from a cabinet. Opening the fridge you see your preferred wine stocked, as well as a few of your other favorite drinks stored there. Warmth blooms in your chest that Jake picked up things for you when he was at the store last. It was touching that he would take care to buy something he would never touch but getting it anyway just to have beverages you prefer on hand. After pouring the wine, you set one glass next to Jake's cutting board, making sure it's in easy reach for him. 
"Thank you," he says appreciatively. You sigh and lean against him, pressing your face into the bicep of his arm, careful not to disturb Jackson or the sling as you do. Closing your eyes, you breathe him in, looking for the subtle cedar scent of his cologne to soothe you. However, only a hint of it tickles your nose, the cedar not as strong as it usually is. Today, Jake smells more like clean laundry and his natural musk than anything else. You are surprised to find it still does the trick in helping settle your nerves, though. Jake hums but doesn't protest your closeness, instead asking, "Long day?" 
You don't answer with words, just humming noncommittally against his arm. You leave your face pressed there for a moment longer. "Not enough wine to talk about it yet," you eventually say into his arm before pulling away. Settling on the other side of the counter again, you take a long drink of the wine you poured. Deciding to admire Jake again, you ask, "How was your day?"
"It was pretty good. Javy dropped Jackson off this morning. We had tummy time, went on a walk, and to the grocery store to get things for dinner. Then we got a little cranky, so we rocked in the lazy boy for a while." You took a moment to picture Jake doing these activities and can't decide which is most swoon worthy. Jake is always swoon worthy, of course, but knowing that he was caring for a baby while doing it feels like an extra kick to the stomach or maybe ovaries. 
"And?" You ask him, taking another drink of your wine and pillowing your face on your palm. 
"And what?" Jake asks. 
"What else did you and Jackson do today? I want to hear every detail." 
Jake gives into your request easily. Starting his description of the day over, he tells you how even though he has babysat before, the Machados were still anxious to leave Jackson alone here when they dropped him off that morning. Jake told you about tummy time, which toys they liked and which were uninteresting. How long their walk was, and what they saw. He told you about the old woman who fawned over them in the store and how they helped her with getting her groceries to the car. It was endearing that Jake used the first person plural 'we' as if he and Jackson were a team with equal agency in their day's activities. It was especially cute when Jake told you about the tantrum they had thrown earlier in the afternoon as if he had been crying right along with his godson. 
Just as dinner was finished and you were setting the table, Jackson woke up and started to get fussy. Jake cooed to the baby affectionately, leaving to the guest room, where Javy had stuffed almost a car full of supplies for Jake to watch Jackson. Some of the just-in-case supplies included toys and clothes Jackson wouldn't even be able to use until he was at least a year old.  
When Jake comes back, both he and Jackson are wearing different clothes. Jake is in a soft green shirt and sweats, while Jackson is now wearing a giraffe onesie. He has the baby propped on his hip and doesn't offer you any explanation aside from that they had an accident. Then he sees that you have plated and set everything for dinner at the dining room table, and he offers a soft thank you. 
You watch as he balances Jackson on his hip and starts following the written out directions for making a bottle that's taped to his fridge. Jake isn't someone who struggles, and you know that this is something that he is fully capable of doing, but you also can't help but think that it would be easier for him if he had two free hands. So, you gently pull Jackson from his arms and into your own instead. 
The baby blinks up at you, his eyes still soft and sleepy. He babbles a bit of nonsense but otherwise makes no protest at you. Jackson has the same brown eyes and skin tone as his father. Even with his chubby cheeks, you can tell that the little boy is going to be Coyote's mini-me. The similarities in their appearance are so close it's like the universe had just hit copy and paste. 
He is so cute you can't stop the grin that stretches across your lips when Jackson snuggles into you. One of his hands starts grabbing at your shirt's fabric while he absently gnaws at his other one. The little boy completely steals your attention as you walk around the living room and dining room with him. Asking him how he feels about his day with his Uncle Jake, pausing for his babbling like they were real answers. Jake comes up behind you several minutes later, setting a steady hand on the small of your back.
 "Here, let me take him," Jake mutters practically in your ear while reaching for Jackson. 
"No," you protest, turning away from Jake's reach. "You've had him all day. I've only gotten to hold him for a few minutes." 
"Now, darling," Jake drawls. 
"Don't darling me."
"Doll," He says 
"Don't Doll me either." You snap, though the aggression of it is completely manufactured. 
"Fine, fine," Jake says, holding his hands up. "You can have him for a few more minutes, but then it's my turn again."  
"How is that fair?" 
"It's fair because he is my godson." 
You pout at Jake, and he pouts back." I can't believe you're going to be a baby hog like this. Don't you know sharing is caring?" 
"Jackson isn't a rental car, sweetheart. Can't just hand him out to anybody."
"So what? You don't trust me with him?" 
"No," Jake says, suddenly dropping all of his dry, teasing tone. "Of course, I trust you with him. Of course, I trust you."
Jake steps closer when he says this, crowding a bit into your personal space. His sea glass green eyes hold you in place, and you don't think you imagine that they flick downwards, that he has his sights set on your lips, that Jake could be considering kissing you. However, a breath later, he is swooping Jackson out of your arms and into his own, quickly back peddling. 
"You can have the baby back after I feed him, okay? I don't want to risk him throwing up on that pretty blouse you've got on." 
"Kidnaper! Baby Snatcher!" You half gasp, half yell, and start to chase after Jake as he runs away, holding Jackson close and carefully but still managing to evade you.  
You're both laughing, and Jackson has started joyfully screeching as well when the doorbell rings, startling all three of you. Jake hands Jackson to you wordlessly before going to check who's at the door. It only takes a minute for him to come back with Coyote in tow. Who immediately rushes to sweep his baby from your arms and press kisses all over his cherub face. 
After Javy examined his son to ensure nothing was out of sorts, he handed Jackson back to you to hold while he and Jake packed up all of his stuff and moved the car seat. This was only after he made a sly comment about how good you looked with a baby in your arms, though. 
When you are alone with Jackson again, you take a moment to admire yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall. It wasn't such a hard thing for you to imagine holding a baby, and it looking normal, like something right, especially when you start to picture one with Jake's features or one that would take more after you, possibly even some sweet mix. The feeling of casual want that started from seeing Jake when you first arrived suddenly twists into an unexpected ache and intense need. 
You expect it to let up, but it doesn't. Rather, the feeling smolders in you, burning hotter and hotter until it feels slightly consuming. Seeing Jake hug and kiss Jackson goodbye, promising they would spend another day together soon, nearly does you in. Heating your feelings from a low simmer to a roaring boil. 
When you and Jake finally sit down to actually have dinner, it gets a little hotter with every sip of wine you take. Every time that Jake smiles and his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way he asks about your failed date with the perfect mix of sympathy and care, even the way he reheated dinner, all adds to the fire. As Jake is starting to put away the leftovers from dinner, refusing to let you help, you can't keep it in anymore, and you boil over. 
"Jackson was so precious," you say, casually swirling the bit of drink you have left around in the glass.  
"Little mans is so fun. I love him. It's always a treat to babysit," 
"You were really great with him today." 
"Aw, thanks Doll. Now, what do you want to do with the rest of the night? Play a game, watch a movie? We can do anything you want."
"Anything I want?"
"Yes, ma'am," Jake says easily as he pops the lids of his pyrex container into place.  
"I want a baby." You say in a quick breath. You nearly slap your hand over your mouth in horror that had just jumped out of your mouth. You really haven't had enough wine to be this bold, but then again, maybe you were a little intoxicated on having seen Jake be so domestic. 
"What?" he asks with a laugh, probably thinking he misheard you. You grip the edge of the cool countertop trying to steady your nerves and prevent your hands from shaking. 
"Jake, I want a baby," you tell him more slowly, making sure each word comes out clearly. 
"No, you don't," he laughs, shaking his head. He starts tossing dirty dishes into the sudsy water of the sink and stacking up the food containers to put in the fridge. Jake turns away from you before saying, "I thought you've said you didn't want kids."
"It's complicated," you explain softly. "Are people not allowed to change their minds about things anymore?" 
"Oh, so are you debating or like —"
"I don't really know how to say this more clearly. I want to have a baby with you, Jake." 
He freezes. You see his shoulders tense, and he stares into the fridge for a long moment, slowly finishing storing the leftovers. When he closes the fridge, he still doesn't look at you immediately. 
"You want me to be the father of a child you have? You want to have my baby?" Jake asks you incredulously. You gulp, now feeling entirely too vulnerable to speak, so you just nod in agreement instead. Jake's eyes are piercing, and his body language is tense as he stands in front of the sink again. He heaves a heavy sigh, his lips flattening into a tight line. Then he scrubs his hands over his face before narrowing his eyes at you, "This is not a very funny joke." 
"It's not a joke, Jake. I want a baby, and I know you would be a good father." When Jake's demeanor still doesn't change, you continue on hurriedly. "I think we could do the whole platonic coparent thing easily enough. We get along so well, and we're already such good friends." 
There is a long pause where he does not say anything, turning on the sink, waiting for the water to heat, and sudsing up a scrub daddy sponge. Only once this task is started does he answer you in a very stoic, perfectly level tone, "No, I don't think I can do that. I can't just sleep with you."
"Oh, well. I see. Forget that I asked, please." You mutter, embarrassed but trying to not let the sting of rejection affect your tone. You knew that this could backfire, but you didn't think it would feel this bad. Feel like the pit of your stomach falling so low you are almost nauseous. 
"I'm sorry, Dolly." 
"It's okay, Jake, really. It's just the wine getting to me."
"Are you going to ask someone else?" 
"What?" 
"Are you going to ask someone else to give you a baby?" Jake asks in a gruff tone. 
You wouldn't actually, you wouldn't want one without Jake. In fact, this urge to have a child came from seeing him. However, you didn't know how else to play off your out-of-pocket request than to commit to the bit. Nonchalantly, you say, "Maybe." 
"I could help you find someone," he offers. 
"Please, Jake. It's okay you said no. You don't have to try and fix my situation."
He practically ignores you, asking, "What about Rooster?"
"I'm sure that I would have fun with the process," you say. Jake, who has focused himself with dedication on the dishes, looks up at you sharply. He quickly looks away again as you continue, "I'd be worried about having a baby that's born with a full mustache, though. So, no, thank you." 
"I'm sure Fritz would be happy to help you out." 
"No —"
"Harvard—" 
"No Hangman. Stop," You say much harder with emphasis, cutting him off and leaving no room for argument. 
"I tell you no for one thing, and suddenly I'm Hangman to you?"
"No, you're Hangman when you disregard the people around you, no matter what they say. You're Hangman when you decide something's a mission objective, and you refuse to let it go. This isn't your problem to fix or one to pawn off on one of your friends." 
"You made it my problem when you just asked me to give you a baby," Jake says, frustrated. Roughly scrubbing the dishes, rinsing, and setting them in the drying rack. 
"Well, the moment you said no, it's not your problem anymore. I'm absolving you of responsibility. It's my problem, and I will find someone for myself to put up with me, at least for a night." You joke, trying to lighten the mood again, not wanting to ruin the whole night from this mishap. Jake doesn't react more than his face darkening significantly, a deep frown pulling at his lips as he rinses the last dish and closes the dishwasher. 
"Put up with you?" He asks, his eyebrows knitting together. Jake reaches for a dish towel to dry off his hands, and you're momentarily distracted by the thick fingers and web of veins tracing up his arm. It's a better sight than meeting Jake's intense eyes, those eyes that can stare you down and leave no room for you to hide. 
"I mean, I know I'm a lot, but I think even I can get someone to fuck me once or twice. If I want and am very lucky, I'll only need one night. There are also other options, of course, like sperm banks and adoption. Let's just let it go. Okay?" When you don't get an immediate response, you glance at Jake once more. He is staring at you, but it's not a look you like. He's looking at you like you are a problem to be fixed, a puzzle to solve, an item to take off his to-do list. So you force a chuckle out and smile.  
"I don't think I want to. Actually, I can't let this conversation go." 
"We have to," you insist. 
"Why?"
"Because Jakers, it doesn't have anywhere else to go. I expressed a stupid desire without thinking. It was awkward, and that's okay. It doesn't have to stay that way, though. Now we laugh and forget it. There is no other option." 
"A lot. Put up with. Stupid desires," Jake scoffs the words as he rounds the kitchen island. He spins the bar stool chair you're sitting on by the back, turning you to face him. Then he sets his hands on the marble countertop on either side of you, effectively boxing you in. Even sitting on the tall bar stool, you have to tilt your head a bit to look up at him. When your eyes meet again, the green isn't as soft or kind as you're expecting. "I don't like how you're talking about yourself right now." 
"I'm just being honest. I'm taxing to deal with; people get tired of me. My past relationships have certainly taught me that I'm only desirable under the right conditions. And I am stupid. I just ruined our whole night because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. What kind of normal person asks one of their best friends to fuck a baby into them unprompted?"
"Oh wow, I'm not even sure where to start with all that." Jake breathes. You can't take seeing his furrowed brow and disappointed frown. So instead, you examine his right arm that's stretched by you, mapping out the moles and freckles there. "You've developed a warped sense of the truth, Doll."  
It's your turn to scoff and roll your eyes. When you do, the arm you've been studying shifts, and Jake cups your cheek. Gently, he urges your face to turn back towards his, and a calloused thumb sweeps across your cheekbone. "Listen to me good now. The things you want and desire they ain't stupid, and neither are you. You're not too much. You're just enough."
"Thank you, Jake." You whisper. And while his words are kind, you don't really believe them.  
"Don't say thank you."
"What else am I supposed to say?"
"Say you believe me and mean it," Jake urges you. 
"I don't want to lie to you. That's not who we are, that's not our friendship," You say. Jake's hand drops from your cheek, and he steps back quickly as if he's been burned. After you had been so surrounded by him, you nearly reach out to urge him close again. Running a hand through his hair, you can tell he's resisting the urge to pace. 
"Is that our friendship, one built on honesty?" 
"I thought so." 
"Then I've failed you, and I've failed us because it's not." 
"Jake, what are you talking about?" You ask him, confused. He shakes his head at you and doesn't respond, instead backing away further until he is abandoning you in the kitchen. Swiftly, you stand to follow him, "Where are you going?" 
"I'm leaving." 
"And going where? This is your house," you remind him. You've caught up to him in the doorway of his bedroom, where he's grabbing a hat and his wallet. "I'm sorry I ruined tonight, and I'll leave. You have to be honest with me before I do, though. I have to know we're going to be okay tomorrow." 
"I can't," Jake says tersely, not meeting your eyes and attempting to sidestep you in the doorway. 
"I was wrongly under the impression there wasn't anything you couldn't do, Hangman. But I guess we are finding a lot of things you just can't do tonight, aren't we?" You aren't expecting the little lash out of a taunt to get you anywhere. Jake is normally always calm, cool, and collected, acting with decisive precision. However, nearly as soon as you've finished speaking, Jake's hands are on your arms, and he backs you up until you gently hit the wall of the hallway across from his door. 
"You're asking for more self-restraint than I have, Doll." He warns roughly. The sudden movement doesn't make you back down like he was probably expecting. Instead, the rush makes you feel emboldened. 
"I don't care. I can accept you don't want a baby with me, that you don't want to fuck me. I can accept that you want to force me to talk, but I can't accept you making me question our friendship." 
"Oh god. You really don't understand. My honesty is not going to make this better," he warns. 
"Yes, I do. Whatever it is, please tell me. I can think of many things you could be referring to, like that I'm not attractive to you. How I would make a terrible mother. Maybe I'm not a good friend. Or you don't actually like spending time with me. Whatever it is, you have to tell me. I've never thought you would lie to me. So, I need to know, or it's going to drive me crazy." 
"There you are, all twisted up again," Jake sighs. 
"And whose fault is that?" You snap back. Jake still has you pressed against the wall, so you set your hands on his broad chest with the intention of pushing him away. However, he doesn't budge; in fact, he does the opposite, coming even closer so he is flush against you. You refuse to tilt your chin to look up at him as he looms, rather only lifting your eyes in a cold stare. "I shouldn't be surprised that you're going to leave me hanging to dry, but you could at least —"
You don't get to finish the thought because a hand has snaked to hold the side of your neck, thumb tucking under your chin, turning your face upwards to Jake's waiting lips. The first brush of his lips on yours doesn't line up quite right, but that doesn't stop your breath from catching. Shifting to get a better angle, Jake applies two more feather light kisses. Your hands, which are still resting on his chest, creep up, and you loop them around his shoulders, using the leverage to lift higher on your toes and get closer to him. 
This prompts him to deepen his next kiss, lips moving harder against yours. When you open your mouth wider in invitation, Jake's tongue traces along your bottom lip but doesn't dive in. You whine when Jake pulls away to take a breath. 
"Forgive me, Doll, I should've asked first." 
"Asked what?" You wonder, not moving your eyes away from his lips and strategizing how to get them back on yours. You think if you could just get a little higher, you would be able to kiss him without Jake needing to bend down so much. 
"May I kiss you?" He asks. 
"Yes, please." You answer immediately. You tug your hold on his shoulders, hoping it will urge him to get right back to it. Jake doesn't, though. His hand shifts from your neck to cup your cheek again, his other leaving the wall to settle on your waist. 
"Can I touch you?"
"Yes, Jake." His hand traces up your side from your waist and back down again in what is a soothing motion. It's too soft and delicate for what you want right now, though, so you tug on his neck again, pressing your chest into his. He gives in this time, molding his lips to yours once more. 
When his tongue meets yours, a low rumble emulates from Jake's chest, and the sound sends a new wave of arousal coursing through you. Reaching up, you push off Jake's hat, not caring where it falls, only that it's no longer in your way. When you thread your fingers into his hair, it's smooth and silky, providing no resistance when you tug it. 
"Tell me what you want, Doll," Jake says when your lips part again. 
"You. I want you," you whimper, tugging his hair again. A wide grin breaks across Jake's face, and his eyes crinkle around the edges. He tucks his face into your neck, and you can still feel him smiling. 
"What else do you want?" He questions. When his lips brush a spot that makes you stretch your neck to give him easier access, he nips it lightly. You stumble, coming up with a response, just sighing his name as he finds another spot to bite. "Come on now, you said it so pretty earlier. Tell me again."
Once his request processes through your lust filled brain, you push on Jake's shoulders once more. This time, he doesn't resist, backing away from you and creating some space between your heated bodies. Sagging against the wall, you try to catch your breath while examining Jake. His hair is disheveled now, some of it falling across his forehead. 
"You said no, you don't want that with me. You don't want this with me," You answer, finally dropping your gaze to examine the grain of the hardwood floor near your feet. Confusion at this sudden turn in attitude from him settles over you as your head clears. One of Jake's hands enters your field of vision, turned upwards in an offering. "Come sit, we need to set some things straight." 
Taking Jake's hand, he curls his fingers with yours and gently tugs you back through the doorway of his room. With his direction, you perch on the edge of his four poster bed. Jake presses a kiss to the back of your hand and lets it go to settle on the accent chair that's in the corner. 
"We'll be honest, right?" You say hesitantly, already missing the feeling of Jake's hand in yours. 
"Yes. I'll be honest." Jake answers reassuringly before continuing, "From the beginning, I never wanted to be friends with you. 
"You didn't?" 
"Nope," he says, popping the p. "I never wanted to be friends, and then once we were friends, I was stuck. You didn't seem to want the same things as I did, and I'm not the kind of man to complain about the friend zone."
"I haven't friend you zoned you," you say, scandalized at the suggestion. 
"Just earlier tonight, you asked me to have a baby with you, platonically," Jake deadpans. 
"Because I can't conceptualize you wanting me any other way." 
"I want you. I've always wanted you, but not platonically, baby." 
Baby. Jake was a casual sweet name user, there was doll, sweetheart, honey, darling, those all were commonplace, but baby was new. Hearing it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. He called you baby, and he has wanted you. You could have had him from the start if your fears and insecurities hadn't held you back. 
"I'm sorry," you whisper. 
"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to need me, to love me," Jake explains with more hesitation than you've ever heard from him as if he is tip-toeing through this conversation. Worrying your fingers together, you have to take a calming breath to settle your own hesitation before answering him, "Well, that's easy because I do."  
A gleeful grin stretches across his face, and it's so bright you feel a matching one appear. He rubs a hand over his face, hiding it from view for a moment, and when you see his face again, he is still smiling. He looks as if he is trying to bite it back but can't quite manage. 
"Well, alright, a few more things we have to iron out then. I love spending time with you. You've never not been desirable to me." You can't help a disbelieving laugh when Jake says that, and the look he gives you is disapproving. "I mean that. I was thinking about it even the time I came over to bring you soup when you had the flu. Wanted to bundle you up and crawl into bed with you." 
"Oh, come on, that can't be true. I was so gross." 
"It is. I promised I would be honest, and I'm not going to be breaking any of the promises I make to you. Can you believe that?" 
You study his face, tracing over his nose, and jaw. He still has the hint of a grin that hasn't slid off his features yet, and he looks so very earnest. You can't imagine that Jake would be in the business of lying to you, and the openness he is offering makes it feel like you can believe him. That you can keep trusting him just like you always have. "I can believe that."
"Great. So, baby —" 
"Yes?" You say entirely too breathily before he can even finish the sentence. It was really a surprise how much hearing him say that already turned your brain to some form of liquid. 
"I want to sleep with you," Jake says plainly. 
"Then why are you all the way over there?" 
"I didn't want you to feel any sort of pressure while we were talking, and wasn't confident I could keep my hands to myself." 
Standing up from his bed, you walk steadily over to the chair Jake is sitting in. Crawling into his lap more confidently than you truly feel, his hands automatically slip around your waist, steading you against him. Holding eye contact with him, you say, "I don't want you to keep your hands to yourself." 
"Fuck, you're going to kill me," he sighs, tightening his hold on you. You go to kiss him again, but when you do, he blurts out, "I don't have any STDs or STIs." His cheeks stain a little pink, and he looks as surprised by the declaration as you are. 
"That's good to know. I'm clean too," you inform him. 
"Good to know. I just thought it was important to put it out there. Got to do safety checks first and everything. I don't want us to have any questions or be unsure about anything, and it's important to consider all the factors involved with —" Jake's rambling comes to a halt when you dip your face into his neck, kissing at the underside of his jaw softly. 
"Jake," you say, linking your arms around his neck and playing with the short hair there. "Will you give me a baby?" 
"Fuck, Doll. I promise to give you anything you want. The ring, the house, the baby. It's yours." 
You don't waste any time kissing him. When your lips meet, all the hesitancy and nervousness that Jake had while you were talking melts away. His mouth confidently teases yours open for his tongue to quickly follow. Your hands thread into Jake's hair again as his start to roam your back, sides, and arms. When you wiggle closer on his lap, he groans and grabbing a handful of your ass, lifting you up. Jake stands easily and walks you back to the bed. 
He doesn't drop you on the bed like you're expecting. Instead, he sets you down gently, one of his hands cradling the back of your head as he does. Laying on your back with Jake standing over you reminds you just how large and broad he is. 
With surprisingly little fanfare, he pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the side. Jake shirtless is not a new sight; in fact, it's a tantalizing one you've seen too often. He has every right to be proud of his body, you know how much time he dedicates at the gym. So it shouldn't be a surprise that, never one to be self conscious, Jake hardly could be found wearing a shirt if the situation didn't require it. However, you realize this is the first time that you don't just have to look but can also touch. 
Wanting to get the nervousness of undressing out of the way, you sit up, quickly discarding your shirt and tossing it aside. Before you can shimmy out of your bottoms, Jake's large hands are on your wrists, stopping you. 
"You're doing my job," he chastises huskily. Jake is slow and meticulous in removing your clothes, running his hands over all the skin that's exposed to him. When he pulls off your bra, leaving you only in your panties, he just sits back and stares for a moment. Such intense scrutiny from his gaze has you covering your chest, crossing your legs, and looking away. 
"I wasn't planning on sleeping with anyone tonight," you mutter, knowing that you don't have the sexiest underwear on and perhaps were not as physically prepared for this intimacy as you would like. 
"Good," he says lowly. "No one else is going to get to see you like this anymore." Grabbing an ankle in each big hand, he spreads you out for him. He slides off your panties so you're completely bare, and takes up his staring once more. "Ain't you fucking gorgeous?" Jake mutters and you realize he ain't talking about you necessarily; he's talking to your pussy. Whining his name gets Jake to shove off his sweatpants, leaving him in a pair of dark grey boxer briefs as he crawls over your body. 
As he kisses you again, your hands greedily explore his exposed skin. His chest hair proving to be much softer than you had imagined it, and his shoulders are taut as he holds himself up. While Jake's lips move with yours, you use a leg to encourage him to ease more of his weight into you, seeking friction. Kissing down your neck he lavishes attention to your breasts, licking and sucking his way across your skin. 
"You know, I was too busy to make dessert," he says when he reaches your core. One of his hands teasingly traces all around the skin. Placing a kiss on your inner thigh, he asks, "Do you mind filling in?" 
"Jake, you don't need to." You say, trying not to squirm when his fingers dip between your lips. 
"I want to. Do you not want me to?" 
"I know it's not everyone's thing," you answer, giving him an out. 
"It's my thing," Jake says. His eyes lock onto the cleft of you, and he licks his lip, biting at the bottom one. Reaching up, he grabs one of your hands and brings it up to his hair, encouraging you to thread your fingers there. His fingers that are teasing you spread you open more, and he groans, "Oh yeah you're my thing." 
Jake's tongue traces over you, probing until he finds the spot that makes your hips jump. Once Jake finds your clit he doesn't waste his time. Widening his mouth, he latches on and sucks. While he starts gently, he ramps up to sucking hard and twisting his tongue as he does. When you pull at his hair, he moans encouragingly.
"More," you request tugging his hair gently. Jake listens, sliding a finger into you. Whispering praise into your thighs about how pretty you are and how good you taste. You don't know how long Jake spends between your thighs, but he doesn't seem to be in any hurry. He sucks and licks, fucking his finger into you until the sound is sloppy and wet. He slips a second finger in, stretching you, occasionally scissoring them wider open in you. 
Even when you are whining and gasping, working against Jake's tongue, he doesn't let up. You don't have the mind to worry how you're trying to suffocate him with your thighs, which he keeps pushing back open with no complaints. All that you can focus on is Jake, how good he is making you feel, and how close you're getting. It's a matter of time until you're shuddering and falling apart for him.  
Continuing to lavish attention even as you jerk with sensitivity, Jake seems content to keep eating you out. You try to pull him away by his hair, but he just licks into you harder. "Jake, enough," you whine, trying to wiggle away from his mouth.
 "I haven't had my fill yet, Doll," he says, pulling his mouth off you but not going far, pressing wet kisses to your thighs. 
"I haven't even seen your cock yet, and I don't know why it isn't in me." You say, trying to reason with him. It doesn't come out very strong, though as Jake's fingers curl in you, making your cunt flutter. 
"Patience is a virtue," he teases.
"Being virtuous isn't really at the forefront of my mind at the moment."
Jake sighs dramatically and presses one more kiss to your pussy before sitting back on his haunches. You can see the hard outline of him in his briefs as he gets off the bed. You watch his every move closely, more than ready to finally see him naked.
However, Jake is clearly taking some sort of joy from making you wait, because he detours to start picking up your hastily thrown clothing. As he is laying them out on the chair, you lose your patience. Grabbing one of his decorative pillows, you throw it at him. It smacks him between his shoulder blades before dropping to the floor with a thunk. 
Spinning to face you, Jake crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge, his eyebrow raised. "Did you just hit me with a pillow?" 
"No, I wouldn't do that," You deny trying to look innocent. Jake tsks at you, picking up the makeshift weapon and setting that neatly on the chair as well. 
"Being desperate for my cock isn't an excuse to misbehave, baby." 
"Big talk for someone who still hasn't shown it to me. It's okay if you don't have a pretty dick, Jake. It won't change how I feel. I'm still going to want you to fuck me."  
Goading someone into action was a wonderful tactic you had learned over the course of your friendship with Jake. Something he easily did with others, and something tonight that it proved was just as effective against him because he doesn't even respond to your words. Sliding off his underwear, his dick springs free. He's hard from eating you out, and just from the first glance you get, it's clear there isn't one thing for him to be self-conscious about. 
The fleshy pink length is nestled among dark hair, and the size of him is nothing to dismiss. It's a very symmetrical cock, lining up nicely with his balls and adonis belt. Bouncing a bit as he gets back on the bed, you can't bring yourself to look away. You know he is going to fill you so deliciously. When he's finally close enough for you to touch, you hesitate though. 
"Speechless?" Jake wonders, with no ounce of shame or self-consciousness present. 
"Can I touch?" You ask. Jake nods, taking your hand and bringing it to your mouth. You suck a few of your fingers in, wetting them with your spit. Then he guides your hand to his dick, encouraging you to wrap it around him. Jake's hand covers yours for the first few strokes, showing you what he likes, but then it falls away, letting you explore. He grunts when you trace one of the veins that runs along the side, following it down to cup his balls. He allows your teasing for a few more strokes before he pulls you close, kissing you hard. 
The hard planes of Jake's naked body pressed against yours is nearly too much. He is so close and yet not close enough. With some gentle maneuvering, Jake is in between your legs and checking that the position is comfortable for you. Jake runs his length through your lips, the head bumping into your clit. Despite all the encouragement and build up, he's still not in a hurry. When his cock is wet from you, it starts to slide effortlessly. Losing your patience, you cup Jake's face, making him look you in the eyes. 
"Jake, fuck me now. Please." You say. He nods, kissing you slowly. Then finally, he grabs his cock lining himself up and pushing the tip into you. When his pelvis meets yours, he holds himself there, your breaths mingling together in light pants as he stretches you out. The time he gives you to stretch and adjust is necessary, but once you have, Jake fills you deliciously. 
"How're you feeling baby?" He asks. Your thumb moves across his cheekbone, soothing until the worry lines between his eyebrows disappear. Only responding when you know you're okay and so is he, "Perfect. Feel so full of you."
"I'll fill you up," Jake promises. 
"Yeah?" You ask. He hums his agreement and rocks his hips against your experimental, drawing a small gasp from you. 
"Promise," he says, starting a lazy punctuated rhythm, moving his hips against yours. Your hands explore the skin of his back as he thrusts into you. You hike a leg up on Jake's hips, letting him get a little deeper in you. The action makes him moan, and he pulls your other leg up around his hip, too. 
Hooking your ankles together, you use the leverage to encourage Jake to fuck into you faster. Digging your heels into his ass and lifting your hips up to meet each of his thrusts increases the heat boiling between you. His face falling into your neck, Jake starts whispering dirty praise about how good you feel around him and how long he's been dreaming about this. 
Stamina clearly isn't something that Jake is lacking in. He fucks you until you are both dripping with sweat, and you are begging for him noncoherently, unable to process anything but how good his cock feels. He maintains a steady rhythm, snapping his hips to meet yours the whole time. 
"You feel so good. Want to get you there again. What do you need?" Jake pants huskily. 
"Harder," you answer shakily, snaking your hand to play with your clit. You're close, and you know it's not going to take much more for you to get there with how long Jake's been building you up. He listens, slamming his hips more pointedly into you, grinding his pelvis every time he bottoms out. 
Huffing, Jake pulls out of you a few minutes later. Making you cry out wantonly, reaching for his retreating body. He takes a moment to kiss both your hands that he unhooks from his neck. Then, shushing you gently, he grabs a pillow and lifting your hips, he slides it under them.
"It's okay, just a little better angle." He explains to you. You flop back on the bed, content to have Jake manhandle you any which way he wants if it means he'll be in you again.  
"Oh, you're such a needy thing, aren't you?" He asks, as your cunt clenches around nothing, empty and wanting him. His fingers dipping in to play with the wet dripping from you. A flash of shame passes through you as he asks that. You drop your arms that had been reaching out for him back to the bed, and you screw your eyes shut, turning your face to the side looking away from him. 
Jake had already got you to cum once, and it was possible he didn't want you all over him as he was trying to get off now. Preferences were probably something y'all should have talked about more in depth before jumping into intimacy. You didn't want him to think you were overly needy or hard to please. You didn't want to ruin what you and Jake could have the very first time together. Noticing the shift in your enthusiasm Jake immediately stops pressing his cock into you, worriedly asking, "What's wrong?" 
"Nothing," you answer, staring up at the ceiling looking for patterns there. It's easier to play this off if you don't have to look at him; easier if you don't have to acknowledge the unexpected, unwelcome swell of emotion that's overcoming you. 
"Doll, look at me." He orders you, but you shake your head, refusing. Jake grips your chin, tilting your face to meet his eyes. They are intense studying you intently, completely focused on you. "The honesty we just promised each other needs to extend to sex nearly more than anywhere else going forward with this relationship," Jake says seriously. His hard dick is pressed against your thigh, and you don't know how he's able to have such a level-headed conversation considering the circumstances, just having been balls deep in you a minute ago. "So, what's wrong?" 
"I don't want to be too high maintenance or needy," You sigh, trying to work through your words. Knowing this conversation is important, but also not completely sure how to express what you're feeling. "Sometimes I might seem needy, or maybe I could take a while to cum or not at all, which wouldn't be a reflection of you. I don't want you to think, well, I don't want to be too much for you to change your mind about this, and now I'm ruining the mood with a dumb fucking insecurity."
"Stop," Jake says gently, but leaving no room for argument. "You haven't ruined anything. I'm sorry I called your pussy needy. I didn't know it would make you feel this way. Can I tell you something, though, Doll?" When you give a hesitant nod, Jake's voice drops so low it's nearly gravelly. "I want you to be needy. I want your pussy desperate for my cock, desperate for my cum. I want you as desperate for me as I am for you." 
"You're desperate for me too?"
"Frantically and wildly so." He answers easily. Then he asks with his thumb ghosting over your nub, "Are we okay? Is this still okay?" 
"Yeah, this is good," You sigh, enjoying the zing that runs up your back when he nudges your clit more pointedly. 
Jake grabs his cock, giving it a few languid strokes before he guides it back into you. You push your hips up to meet him. The new angle that the pillow gives him leverage to hit somewhere that's just a delicious feeling. As he rocks into you, his thumb maintains its place on your clit. Your fear of the mood having been ruined proves wrong as the coil in your core quickly builds, pushing you near the edge once more. 
"Cum in me, Jake, please. Give me a baby," you request, your thighs quivering as you near your orgasm. 
As his hips snap nearly frantically, Jake rolls your clit over in nearly the same rhythm. He moans your name a minute later, falling over the edge and spilling inside of you. Though his hips stutter to a stop leaving himself fully seated in you, he continues working over your clit. It doesn't take long until you're dissolving into pleasure along with him. 
The ripples run through your body, and you feel every muscle tense and relax, turning into jelly. Jake grunts when you spasm around him but doesn't move or pull out until you've fully melted into the bed on the downward crest of your peak. 
When he does pull out, he doesn't go far, shifting enough to spoon you. Settling behind you, Jake pulls you close to his chest, wrapping you tight in his arms. His hand is tracing lazy patterns on your hip and occasionally venturing to the soft skin of your belly. You don't have the mind to be self-conscious at the moment, still a little too blissed out. It takes significant brain power to process his question when he asks, "Do you actually want to have a baby?" 
"Do you?" You wonder. 
"You can't answer a question with a question," Jake chastises you. Turning in his arms so you are sprawled against his chest, you snuggle close, nuzzling him affectionately. 
"Do you know how it was seeing you with Jackson today?" You ask him. 
"If it was even half of how it felt seeing you hold him, then I'm sorry." 
"Whatever you felt, double it. Triple it even." You say lightly. "It was enough for me to ask my friend, who I thought could never want me, for a baby." 
"I do want you," Jake immediately reassures you. 
"Thank goodness for baby fever, then. Because at least now we know we want each other," you reason, slowly starting to draw mindless patterns of your own against his skin. 
Jake heaves a sigh and strokes his hand down your back, wondering, "Was this just baby fever?" 
"No," you answer after thinking about it for a long span of silence. "I would have a baby with you. It seems right. I want that, I think." You can feel the relief in his body, hearing that, all his tension easing into relaxation. 
"Good," is the only response he gives you, kissing the crown of your head. You expect more but don't get it. Rather, Jake seems content to just bask in the afterglow. That doesn't seem to be too bad an idea, so you close your eyes, listening to his steady heartbeat.  
When you wake up from your impromptu nap, you're not alone in bed. However, you are now under the covers of a different comforter than there was before, and Jake is no longer acting as your pillow. He is on the other side of the bed, but his hand is stretched out, grazing the middle of your back. 
Rolling to face him, you admire the sight he makes stretched out on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Jake's got a book open, folded in half, clearly abusing the book's binding just so he can have one hand on you. When he notices you sleepily admiring him, Jake shoots you a soft smile. 
"Hey baby," he whispers. 
"Hi," You whisper back scooting closer to him and grab the hand that had been touching you, threading your fingers together. 
"Let's go on a date," Jake suddenly springs on you, squeezing your hand. 
"I would love that," you respond, feeling giddy as butterflies erupt in your stomach. "Want something first, though."
"I already told you I would give you anything you want, and I meant it," Jake says, setting his book on his bedside table and giving you his full attention. 
"Good, because I want round two and a shower, which hopefully has round three involved." 
"Your wish is my command," Jake says easily. You move even closer to him so your lips are only a breath apart. "I meant it, the ring, the house, the baby. I can make it all happen by tomorrow." 
"Let's start with breakfast in bed," you say, kissing him hard. When your lips hardly touch because you're both smiling too wide, well, that actually makes it feel all the better. 
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heytherecentaurs · 7 months ago
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That was such a cool premiere episode.
Ally was incredible. I had the same visceral reaction as the rest of the table when Russell calls Liv sweetheart and good girl. But also he’s so hot nobody ever calls him on his bullshit. They’ve built a guy that uses weird sucky boomer language but also intervenes when Dave is being a dickhead.
Rekha always brings so much energy to the table. She’s been on D20 a few time now and I always adore her. She’s so funny. She loves a socially awkward character. Usha auto-corrects to Haha every time I write it and my phone’s right. The bit about no tech working was so great. And her being so horned up for the weird Nosferatu man was hilarious.
I wanted Alex back on S20 from episode one of Mentopolis and I’m so grateful they’re back. Love Liv as a teen klepto. It’s so spot on. Alex has a habit of formulating a very simple string of words and making them gut bustingly funny.
Never doubt Izzy. It seems like she was doing a little bit of a Jennifer Coolidge thing but making it sorta midwestern too. Paula is great. A late 50s who apparently has powerful periods and is so so horny. Izzy will always zero in on something whether it’s New Jersey mansion trash or gifted kid mama’s girl and she’ll heighten it to hilarious absurdity.
Dang is 1000% percent what I wanted from Jake. If you had read to me a description of every character I’d know which was his. He’s got such a distinct comedic voice and he’s always such a lovely presence whenever he’s on a dropout show.
Ify’s character work here is perfect. He is locked in. I feel like he’s pulling from a lot of personal experience. He’s sort of both the nerdy anime kid and the muscly beefcake wrapped in one. He’s ideal for this season. Love him getting his guns out.
Brennan really swung for the fences. Feels like he’s building on so much of what Aabria brought to D20. The crazy dome projections, the costume changes, the props, the custom ttrpg. And he’s also bringing all his own DM excellence. His comedy choices are perfect. His character work spot on and the world and lore he’s developing is exquisite. I’m very engrossed already.
I’m so excited to get to know their other characters.
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writeyouin · 1 year ago
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Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners
Chapter 1 - Hate For All Sinners
A/N – I couldn’t stop thinking about this short King after episode 5 of Hazbin Hotel came out. This is mostly a fic for me, to get me back into writing. (WILL DO A MALE AND NONBINARY ONE SOON!)
Warnings – None.
Rating – T
MALE VERSION HERE
NON-BINARY / GN VERSION HERE
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“Who’s that?” Lucifer asked, pointing you out to Charlie.
In truth, he would’ve likely asked that of the next person he saw. As Charlie’s father, Lucifer was trying desperately to show how interested he was in his daughter’s project, even if he was barely holding onto anything she said. It wasn’t that he was disinterested, or too ignorant to understand the situation, but rather that after spending so much time as a recluse, locked away in the protective space of his workshop where he wouldn’t have to see the sinners or the Hell he was responsible for creating, Lucifer could barely comprehend what was going on around him. He knew it was because he was depressed, but he was trying and he had to make Charlie see that, even if it meant feigning fits of hypomanic excitement.
Yet, Lucifer found himself genuinely… horrified by you. He had seen many types of Demon over the millennia. Typically, they tended to represent Earth’s animals, such as that annoyingly powerful Deer Demon, Alistair, whom Lucifer had met thanks to this very tour… not that Alistair was worth mentioning, piece of shit that he was, mingling with Lucifer’s daughter when he had no right to even breathe the same air as her-
Lucifer caught his snowballing thoughts, turning them back to you. You weren’t an animal Demon. There were other types of Demons of course, though Flora and Fauna were the most common; object Demons also existed, such as that rather famous one that people talked about, the TV Demon, V-something? Lucifer couldn’t remember his name. He didn’t watch Television… he didn’t do much of anything these days.
“Oh,” Charlie sidled over to you, wrapping her arm warmly around your shoulder as she corralled you towards her father, “Dad, this is (Y/N). She’s one of the hotel’s, uh, allies I guess, right (Y/N)?”
“That’s right, Sir,” You held out your hand for Lucifer, who was staring dumbly at you, uncertain what to make of you.
As the ruler of Hell, fuelled by angelic power, Lucifer could always read a Demon, or rather, he could read their strength. For example, he knew after only one meeting that the bartender, Husk was a strong Demon, though his power was clearly being dampened by a soul contract, whereas that little snake fellow Sir Pentious was rather weak, though he had potential if he could manage to claim even a few souls of his own, but you? You were entirely different.
First off, you didn’t resemble an animal, plant, or object… You were the most human-looking Demon that Lucifer had ever seen; frankly, he found that disturbing. Secondly, you didn’t seem to have much if any power. What was wrong with you? To come off as human with little demonic power… Well, if Lucifer didn’t know any better, he would guess that you weren’t a sinner at all, but you had to be. You were definitely dead; that much he could tell. And, you were in Hell.
Dead and in Hell - those were the only two qualifications for becoming a Demon, so why were you like this?
“Dad, are you listening?” Charlie said exasperatedly, clearly annoyed that Lucifer’s thoughts seemed to have trailed off once again.
“Oh, yes, of course,” Lucifer stated, staring at your hand which you had seemingly retracted when he wasn’t paying attention. Damnation! Now Charlie was going to think he had snubbed her friend on purpose.
“So, (Y/N) is another one of your patrons. That’s nice.”
“What? No. Dad, I just told you, (Y/N) has no interest in being redeemed.”
“Oh,” Lucifer looked you up and down disapprovingly. It figured. Even this non-Demon was looking for power in Hell, probably so you would finally be a killer worth bragging about – Honestly, what was the point? All sinners were the same. Greedy, destructive forces who wouldn’t stop until there was nothing left to break.
“Yep, she’s our only permanent resident who wants to help rehabilitate other souls. Isn’t that great? She helps with everything here, and she doesn’t ask for anything in return.”
“That’s not true,” You blushed at Charlie’s praise. “Your daughter is very generous, Sir. She lets me stay here rent-free.”
“And that’s all you want?” Lucifer asked suspiciously.
“Honestly? Yeah.”
Lucifer shook his head but didn’t argue. He didn’t want to know what your real motivations were. It was probably as simple as hoping for regular boons from the Princess of Hell; you were clearly just biding your time. Besides, if you didn’t want to redeem your soul, then you must be just like Alistair, a sadistic monster just waiting to see Demons repeatedly fail in their attempts at redemption.
Now that his curiosity was sated, Lucifer decided that he didn’t want to lay eyes on you again. You weren’t worth his time. Only Charlie was… Well, Charlie and Vaggie, because any woman his daughter loved was practically family to him. He was glad when the tour continued, leaving you behind to catch Nifty who was trying to pull a piece of fabric from Lucifer’s coat, muttering something about the ‘Ultimate bad boy.’
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“Okay, I can get you the meeting,” Lucifer agreed, doing what he could to support Charlie’s dreams of saving her people, even though he didn’t think there were any redeeming qualities for any denizen of Hell.
It hurt him to tell Charlie that he wouldn’t be able to go with her to that lofty paradise, having been cast out; how he wished he could protect his daughter from those who carried out God’s will. Still, she never asked him for anything, and if this was what her heart most desired, he would do all in his power to help.
“Will you be okay?” He asked sombrely.
“I’ll be fine,” Charlie assured him, taking hold of his hands.
“That’s my girl.”
For a moment, it looked like Lucifer was done, but he paused, worried that this wasn’t enough to make up for the years he had been absent, leaving Charlie to fend for herself while he shut himself away.
“Is there anything else you need?”
Charlie couldn’t help but worry about her father. What would happen when he went back into isolation? He needed something to focus on, but… What was there for him when all of Hell was his prison?
She couldn’t help thinking about how little Lucifer thought of all the other citizens of Hell. If only he could see that they weren’t as terrible as he thought. Granted, they could be violent, and loud, definitely rambunctious, but these were his people, and he had to see that his gift of Free Will was a good thing, yet, if she said any of this, she was certain Lucifer would only laugh at her or tell her to get real while playfully pinching her cheek. There was no way that Lucifer would leave his home to hang out with any citizen of Hell.
Then it hit her. If Lucifer wouldn’t leave his manor to visit people, then people should be allowed to visit his manor. Or better yet, one person should be chosen to go and live with Lucifer so that he would learn just how good people could be, and Charlie knew just the person for the job.
“Actually, Dad, there is one more thing.”
“Name it,” Lucifer smiled, glad that his daughter wanted to ask things of him, as any normal child should want from their parents.
“I think it would be good for you to socialise, just a little bit.”
“Charlie,” Lucifer’s voice was strained at the thought of going anywhere else in Hell.
“I know,” Charlie reassured him, looking into his eyes; she looked so understanding that he relaxed slightly. Then, she continued in a more upbeat tone, “That’s why I think you should take (Y/N) to live with you, as your maid!”
She pounded her palm decidedly, much like a judge pounding her gavel.
“What? NO!” Lucifer sputtered.
You for your part, had seemingly been shocked into silence, watching the exchange uncertainly while Alistair grinned devilishly at you, and Angel Dust was holding in a snicker. Granted, you could have argued, but Charlie was stubborn, and she always had some kind of wild idea. Whatever she was thinking, you decided that you would go along with it; there was usually a method to her madness after all.
“It’s fine, Dad, (Y/N) doesn’t mind, right (Y/N)?”
You shrugged your shoulders passively, “I guess?”
“See? You should get to know your citizens, Dad. It will be good for you, I promise. They’re not all as bad as you think.”
Lucifer took one hard look at you. Honestly, he wished his daughter had picked the porn star or that psycho maid. You, as a very human-looking Demon, were a vicious reminder of his past mistakes. Still, he had told his daughter he would do anything for her, and he had already promised her a meeting with Heaven, and nothing could possibly be worse than that.
“Alright,” He agreed.
Then, he summoned a portal for you with the flick of his wrist.
“Good luck, kiddo.” He said to Charlie, and upon keeping a safe distance from you, he waited for you to step through the portal.
“Charlie, I’m assuming that you have a good reason for this,” You said before taking a step towards your newly appointed home, “Just call me if you need anything.”
With that, you were gone, followed closely (though not too closely) by Lucifer.
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stardewremixed · 7 months ago
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We need better marriage candidate advantages! Gifts, dinners, and occasional chores on the farm are nice, but....
Shane - starts taking care of the chickens and you get more eggs (double or triple from one chicken) or an extra chicken every year. Plus discounts at Marnie's. Oh and give me a room for Jas on the farm!!! Also he starts working at Pierre's after Joja closes and leads weekly AA meetings at the community center. Marnie also visits occasionally and brings gifts. Wanders into the forest sometimes and brings back forage.
Abigail - discounts at Pierre's, shopping on Wednesdays, and she goes adventuring with you in the mines (for some rare drops). Discounts at the Adventurer's Guild after she becomes a full-fledged member. Her parents visit on the farm and you get occasional gifts from them. Breaks up rocks on the farm (actual rocks in your inventory and occsisonal geodes).
Harvey - discounts at the clinic for the amount of times you're injured in the mines and he is the one who finds you and carries you home so you don't lose any items. Weekly energy tonics. And sometimes he plays jazz (Unlocks new music). Discounts at the bookseller (1.6) because he befriends the hot air balloon operator. And the man gets over his fear of heights and gets his chopper license. Can take you to Ginger Island for free.
Maru - weekly energy tonics since she works in the Clinic (yes, she should keep her job) and battery packs, plus her dad visits the farm cave and you get better drops in there. Robin visits too and says things like "oh, I saw such and such needed upgraded or repaired, so I did it. " Seb visits and might bring a gift. She also creates a working robot that can automate some farm chores at random. Joins the aerobics class at Caroline's.
Sebastian - discounts from Robin for upgrades and her shop, he occasionally goes adventuring with you in the quarry (for rare drops), and brings in a side income from his incredibly popular indie computer game. Brings gifts from his trips to Zuzu City. Hosts weekly jam sessions with Abigail and Sam on the farm. Organizes DnD game night at the community center - friendly to beginner's.
Leah - chops wood for you (actual wood in your inventory), crafts beautiful decor for your farm, and brings you delicious forage from the forest. Brings in a small income from her artistry. And she would also adventure with you in the secret woods (rare drops and better protection). Might buy you a drink or salad at the Saloon on occasion. Would absolutely dance with you at the Stardrop on Friday nights if you asked her.
Alex - Builds a ramp for George and then his grandparents occasionally visit the farm, bearing gifts. He chops wood and breaks up stone on the farm (actual wood/stone in your inventory). And let's start a food truck. Sells at his stand year round (and more than just ice cream), bringing in a small monthly income. He would be an excellent ally also on difficult adventuring levels (preventing you from getting surrounded). If you do go down, he's carrying you home so that you don't lose any items. Runs bingo at community center for the older townies (including his grandparents). Finally fixed the damn leak in Evelyn's roof.
Elliott - let's upgrade his beach cabin for a vacation getaway! He brings you home from the library with all sorts of useful knowledge. The man brings in an income selling his stories and poetry. Establishes a regular reading event at the library. Teaches writing classes at the Community Center. Discounts at Willy's (Willy is Elliott's great uncle in my headcanon). He would occasionally adventure with you on Ginger Island. Oh and I think you'd adopt Leo together and build a little treehouse on the farm.
Sam - income from Joja (or the movie theater), builds a skate park for the kids on town (a new post marriage heart event), and travels occasionally with his band (bringing in a sporadic income). Oh and he writes new songs for the jukebox at the Saloon. (Unlocks new music). Probably plays for the locals on Friday nights. Vincent would come stay with you on the farm, on occasion, so he would have a room. Plus Jodi would bring you dinners on Sundays. Kent would send you regular gifts in the mail. Also unlimited free games at the arcade (Sam's always buying).
Haley - has a photography show (like Leah does with her art) and decorates your farmhouse with occasional prints (new decor), plus an income from selling her services as a photographer. I like to think she works with Seb on the town website and adds her images. Brings gifts from her trips to Zuzu City. Scythes grass on occasion on the farm (actual grass and sometimes mixed seeds in your inventory). Would plant flowers in a farm garden with Evelyn. Emily would visit and bring gifts.
Emily - discounts at the Saloon, a small weekly stipend, and sells her clothes online, plus you get to join the weekly aerobics class at Caroline's with her (and if you have high hearts with Clint, you get discounts at the blacksmith too). Sometimes misc clothing, shoe, hat, and ring upgrades show up in your inventory. Haley would visit and bring gifts.
Penny - special events at the community center (she helps establish family-friendly activities and the community center is more active). She goes back to school for her official license and brings in a small income from teaching. Discounts on bus rides thanks to her mom, or cheaper bus repair if you aren't done yet. Better rewards at the library/museum when you donate items because of her friendship with Gunther. And she creates a playroom at the farm for Jas and Vincent (and your kids, of course). Pam might visit on occasion and bring gifts (and like Shane, Pam would attend the weekly AA meetings).
Okay... confession time... who are you marrying based on the above advantages?
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beyondthesefourwalls · 9 months ago
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It was so cute how they were both so nervous before she told him she was pregnant - it really emphasized how much they meant to the other and how they didn’t want to lose each other. And he spent his spare time learning how to communicate with her in another way, too!
Down bad Jake does it for me every single time.
All This Love
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
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Summary: “Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound. “Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.
Warnings: not much in this one, unplanned pregnancy, some light smut, 18+ only!! <3
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Jake feels his pulse jump once, then twice as he walks through his front door. He’d already known you were here, not just because of your car parked out front, but because you’d barely left his company since he’d gotten the news. Still, the sound of you moving around his kitchen, and the smell of something heavenly wafting toward him makes his heart leap just a little in a way that is honestly unfamiliar to him.
Jake Hangman Seresin is not a ‘relationship’ guy. He hasn’t exactly been a one-night-stand guy either these past few years, but certainly he isn’t known for his commitment. Partly he could blame this on his schedule, his various and frequent deployments, moves and busyness, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that taking an endless string of women home was taking a toll on him.
Quietly, Jake hoped he’d meet someone, have a constant in his life to come home to, maybe have a few little mini-Jake’s running around too, but it also wasn’t really something he was actively seeking out. He knew being with him meant a lot of lonely nights, and he’d internalised the attitude that most women were not up for that.
And then he met you.
You’d laughed sweetly like you’d thought he was just kidding when he’d flirted with you, told him outright you’d expecting him to cancel on your first date, and then rambled about anything and everything for the next three hours as he happily listened.
You weren’t really his normal ‘type’, you weren’t overly affectionate with him off the bat, making your intentions known, you weren’t tall or bleached blonde or anything he was used to from the women who showed an interest in him, though that wasn’t to say he didn’t think you weren’t beautiful. You were a little awkward, and dorky and you’d told him you thought he was funny, which wasn’t really one of the things most of the women he dated tended to point out. Needless to say, Jake had quickly found it very easy, very natural to adore you.
He’d gotten three and a half months with you before his orders came in. 
The two of you had grown close in that time, but you hadn’t really addressed or discussed what you were. He hadn’t really felt the need, or the pressure like he had in the past. He’d realised over the past few days that this might’ve been down to the fact that he hadn’t even really considered any other options besides the two of you eventually becoming ‘exclusive’. If Jake is completely honest, he’s been off the market since our first date.
Not until the imminent date of his deployment had he begun to take note of his rising anxiety, the complete opposite to the way he usually felt after informing a casual fling that he’d be going. With them, he didn’t expect more, he didn’t want to give them more either, but with you… Jake hasn’t been able to stop thinking about how much he’ll be able to contact you while he’s gone, if you’ll make time for him, even if you’ll send him those care packages so many of the guys he knows often received while on the carrier…
The idea that you saw his upcoming deployment as the official end of whatever this is you have going on haunted him, and Jake was determined to make clear that when he returned in fourteen months time, he still wanted to see you.
He toes off his boots as best he can with the large bouquet in the crook of his elbow, before padding down the hall toward where the delicious smell is coming from, finding you buzzing around his kitchen in a manner that forces him to stop dead in his tracks to appreciate the sight.
This is what Jake has been wanting, but it's not until this very moment he realises just how much. It isn’t even about you cooking for him, no, he just craves the domesticity of coming home to somebody who looks up from what they’re doing with an expression like his arrival is the new best part of their day.
“Jake! I didn’t hear you come in!” you say with a smile and a laugh. That wasn’t exactly unusual for you. You didn’t often hear many things, considering you were hard of hearing. You weren’t completely deaf, in quiet rooms when he was facing you, you could hear him enough, helped by lip reading, or if he spoke directly into your ear. However, it was still significant enough that Jake had downloaded an ASL learning app, partly to communicate better with you, but also so that he could see your overjoyed surprise whenever he correctly signed something very simple to you.
“These are for you,” he steps closer, holding out the large bouquet of marigolds and roses he’d stopped for on the way home, making sure his mouth isn’t at all obscured by them as he does. He hadn’t skimped when he’d bought them, requesting the biggest package the florist offered and paying double what he’d ever paid before for flowers. It was worth it though, especially when once you’ve processed what he’s said, your face lights up all over again and you let out a soft little gasp as you move to meet him.
“They’re beautiful!” you croon as you bring the flowers to your nose. Jake had only ever bought flowers for his mother, and for a few girls around Valentine’s Day. They were always roses. He’d never bothered to ask what their preferred flower of choice was. With you, though, you had inadvertently told him on your first date while lost in a story about a failed garden you’d tried growing and how you adored copper marigolds and peach roses, but that no man had ever bought either for you, including your last boyfriend who’d seemed to think flowers were lame and unnecessary. He’d filed that information away, but curses himself for not using it any sooner as you smile widely back up at him, and push the flowers aside so that you can wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him sweetly.
“Thank you! You didn’t have to!” you say in between pecks to his lips, and Jake wraps the arm still holding the bouquet around your back, in the hopes that maybe you’ll stay pushed up against him just a little longer. You do, giggling softly as you continue to deliver soft little kisses to his lips, Jake dutifully returning each one, becoming aware of his own laughter joining your own as he does.
You pull away to grin up at him, and Jake drops one last, final kiss to your lips before giving you a slight squeeze, his own smile growing as you stare up at him.
“Baby, the smoke alarm is going off,” he informs you, chortling when you jump away from him in surprise, and quickly return to the stove to remove the pan from the hob. Jake follows you, placing your flowers down on the counter, and moving over to where the alarm sits high on his wall, reaching up to tap the button in the centre that switches it off.
“Sorry! The good news though is that dinner isn’t ruined!” you tell him happily, turning back around to go digging through one of his other cupboards. You straighten again when you find a large pitcher, and he watches you mill about for a moment, filling it with water before moving to place the bouquet of flowers inside. He feels his chest swell with pride as you primp and preen the roses and marigolds, and pictures you two weeks from now, with more and more petals falling from the flowers with every passing day, but refusing to throw them away because they make you think of him. The swelling of pride begins to turn into a swell of dread, and Jake really, really wishes he wasn’t leaving you in the morning.
You turn back to him and smile.
“Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll finish this?” you suggest, and Jake immediately pouts.
“Why don’t I just stay here and help you plate up?” he says instead, making you frown playfully and shake your head.
“Jake, you need to shower!” you scold lightly.
“I showered on base,” he shrugs, and pushes away from his counter to capture your waist and draw you near again.
“Jake… just let me do this for you… you leave tomorrow…” it’s your turn to pout. Jake’s heart makes a good effort to leap out of his chest and into yours.
“Exactly. I leave tomorrow, so just let me stay with you as long as I can,” he poses, and you soften, resting your hands on his forearms.
“Jake…” you sigh, and bite your lip a little. “What’re you gonna do for the next fourteen months, huh?” you question playfully, shaking your head.
“Wish I was plating up dinner with you.” he answers immediately, then feels his cheeks heat up a little. Your gaze drops from his face, but you’re smiling softly, and rubbing your thumbs over his skin in a soothing manner.
“Okay,” you relent, before reaching up to cup his cheeks tenderly. “Okay.”
Jake leans into your touch, closing his eyes as he memorises the feeling of you holding him. You remain in pleasant quiet as the two of you go about preparing for dinner, Jake setting the table as you portion out the salad you’ve made.
Jake refrains from insisting you sit side by side as you eat, because he knows you’d struggle to hear him if you did, but after dinner, he does insist that the dishes can wait, convincing you to come up and shower with him instead.
You’ve barely stepped inside the glass cubicle when he’s pulling you closer, lips reaching out for yours and you giggle as you kiss him under the full stream of the shower head, laughing properly when he pulls back to spit a mouthful of water sideways out his mouth like a cartoon character. He grins at having made you laugh, but crowds you up against the wall almost instantly after, his smile pressed back against yours.
“M’gonna miss you.” he says right by your ear, before slipping his mouth down to your neck, and immediately sucking a small mark there. He knows your opinion on hickeys, so he’ll make sure the rest are somewhere you can hide them. You seem to squirm in his hold, your hands dropping from around his neck to press against his chest, his abdomen, though he knows you aren’t pushing him away, simply wishing to see his face.
“I’ll miss you, too.” you say after a moment, watching the water drop from his eyelashes, before you wrap your arms around him, pulling him near once again and pressing your chest up against his in a delightful manner.
“Promise you’ll come see me when I get shore leave?” He’s never asked this question before, and his heart immediately jumps into his throat. Usually he’d wait around for shore leave to go bar hopping, pick up a girl or two and show them a good time while he could. This time however, all Jake can think about is how best he can maximise all his spare moments for the next fourteen months to make sure they’re spent with you.
“I promise,” you say with another giggle, and it makes Jake pull back to look down at you. He’s not sure what he wants to say, if anything at all, but a beat passes where the two of you simply watch one another. Carefully your hand rises, skims along his cheek, but ultimately continues upwards where you smooth back some of the hair hanging down over his forehead.
“By my count we’ve got just under twelve hours,” you say then, and he can tell you’re trying not to sound so sad. It makes his stomach flop about.
“No time to waste, then, huh?” He leans in and murmurs against your lips.
Miraculously, you make it back to his bedroom somehow, shower water replaced with sweat now as you both work to make the most of the short time you have left together.
You let out a heavy breath of air as you adjust yourself once more, hands pressing against his taut abs, feeling the way the muscles move and tighten under your palms and fingers as you bounce in his lap. Your thighs are burning, but that's not going to be enough to stop you from chasing down another high. Jake’s hands at your hips take some of the initiative out of your control though, his grip firm and deliberate as he helps you move for him, forcing you up and damn-near slamming you back down again, his hips flexing in time to make sure he’s fucking you as deep as he can.
Your sounds of pleasure are muted against his lips, swallowed by him as he kisses you hungrily, one hand shooting up to clutch at the back of your neck when you briefly break apart. With one hand helping you move now, he begins tilting his hips more and more, his legs bent at the knee behind you, powering his thrusts and completely taking you apart. He lets you break away from his mouth, but doesn’t move the hand on your neck, and through half-shut eyes, you can see him watching you intently, his jaw clenched as he takes you in. He slows down.
“You look so pretty riding me,” Jake’s voice is deeper and more gravelly than normal, and his words are punctuated by tiny grunts of exertion that make you mewl. “Gonna miss the way you feel around me,” he goes on, using his hold on you to grind up into you with each slow thrust. You gasp when his hand on your thigh pulls a little, widening your legs around him and making you take him even more.
“Fuck! Jake…!” you cry out weakly, doing your best to keep your momentum, but with this new positioning, you barely have enough strength to lift yourself from him. Jake doesn't seem to mind, groaning in approval and suddenly sitting up, twisting your still connected hips to spin you beneath him now, his hand hiking your leg up over his shoulder as you go.
You gasp again, your own hands clutching his shoulders as he begins fucking you impossibly deep, picking up his pace again as he hovers above you, one hand now in the mattress beside your head.
“Take me so well, sweetheart,” he grunts out, closing the distance between you to press his lips back to yours. You chase him when he pulls away again, whining in disapproval, but his lips dont go too far, as he falls to his forearms and really begins to fuck you.
“Gotta give it to you so good you’ll be stuck on me, huh? Won’t think about anyone but me while I’m gone?” he goes on, and all you can do is nod.
“You gonna cum?” he asks a little more coherently, and you nod, because the way he’s driving into you nearly has you toppling over already. “Yeah? Go on, let me feel you, want you to cum around me, honey.”
His words alone are enough to push you off the edge, more so when you feel him join you, and you arch up into him, curl your hips against his own ragged thrusts, desperate to keep him from pulling out halfway through. He doesn’t seem to be planning to this time, and you mewl and moan in delight at the feeling of him filling you up, the feeling of him dripping out of you when he gives you a few last firm thrusts.
Jake pants above you, the hand by your head slipping down to caress your cheek as you both take a moment to come down. He kisses you, long and deep and nearly enough to get you going again. You wait patiently when he pads off to his bathroom to find you a cloth, and you barely notice yourself dozing off until you wake sometime later.
The bed is empty, though the bedside lamp has remained on, and you sit up properly, rubbing your eyes.
“Jake?” you call out, but you don't see him in the bedroom or bathroom. Frowning, you scoot out of his bed and grab one of his old squad shirts, slipping it on as you move out of his bedroom in search of him.
“Jake?” you call out again, trailing your hand along the wall as you step softly down the stairs to the first floor. It doesn’t help that you can’t hear him, but your worries are belayed the moment you turn around the corner and into the kitchen, and you’re greeted with his bare back as he stands at the sink. He’d pulled some sweatpants on, but they’re hanging low on his hips, enough for you to see the little dimples at the base of his back, and you itch you wrap your arms around him again.
You try to be as quiet as you can as you move up behind him, relishing in the small jump of surprise he does when you trail your hands over his skin and around his front, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades. You feel him chuckle, feel the deep reverberations through his chest as he does, before he’s pulling you by one arm around to his front instead, where your face now rests against his chest instead.
“I thought you’d fallen asleep.” he tells you, leaning down to absently press a kiss to your hair. You shrug, but peek over your shoulder to watch as he continues to wash dishes, moving with him when he has to move, loving the way he briefly wraps you up whenever he does so, as if he’s worried his twisting might scare you off.
“What are you doing?” you ask dumbly, even as he scrubs down the pan you’d used to cook dinner.
“I didn’t want you to have to wake up tomorrow and do the dishes.” He tells you quietly, like he was worried about admitting this to you, like it was something he should feel guilty about. You coo, and squeeze him a little tighter, just as another thought occurs to you. You’d meant to talk to him about it when he got home from work, but with all the messing around that had happened, you’d totally forgotten.
“Do you want me to drive you in tomorrow?” you ask, feeling the way he pauses. You look up at him after he stays quiet for another beat, and find him staring down at you oddly. Your eyes meeting seems to break him out of his reverie though, and he blinks rapidly a few times.
“You don’t mind? It’s an early start…” he tells you, trying to warn you off, but you see right through him. You can tell it means something to him, though you don’t know what, and a part of you wonders if he’d ever had a girlfriend drive him to base for a deployment before.
“I’m not going to see you for fourteen months, Jake, of course I don’t mind.” you say as if it's obvious. You watch him purse his lips, but smile softly.
“I’d like that.” he says at last, moving one arm to wrap around you permanently now, continuing his task one handed until you extract yourself from him to grab a drying cloth. He makes a sound you only feel briefly, but you shoot him an amused shake of your head and remind him that the faster the chore is done, the faster the two of you can go back to bed. He stops his complaining then, and when the sink is empty and the dishes all stacked away, he picks you up and carries you all the way upstairs again with your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping them there until you both fall asleep again.
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Jake can’t stop looking back over his shoulder at you as he stands with the rest of Dagger, getting ready to board. You’re right by the front of the crowd of family that has gathered to say goodbye, which doesn’t make it any easier. If you’d disappeared amongst the people, he could fool himself into thinking you weren’t there, but as it is, he can see you clearly, and it’s eating him up.
Even Rooster can tell, watching and following his gaze every time Jake longingly glances back at you, his brown eyes trailing to the beautiful girl in the front of the crowd, occasionally conversing with the people around her, but mostly just eying the group of aviators with a sad little smile.
“You should say goodbye.” Rooster tells him quietly, eyeing up the officers ahead of them and correctly guessing that they would be about to board. Jake swallows, and pushes his sunglasses up his nose.
“We’ve already said goodbye.” He doesn’t mean to sound so snappy or cold, but he really didn’t want to think about leaving you anymore than necessary. Beside him, Rooster shuffles and shrugs.
“Say goodbye again.”
Jake stays quiet for a moment, before he turns to look at his wingman, and then at the line ahead. Quickly shifting his bag and stuffing it into the other man’s hands, Rooster only nods at him before Jake’s body is moving, easily pushing past the junior officers who step out of his way quickly. He barely takes note of the saultes he receives, because his eyes are set only on you, the way you watch him with a frown, but even as he gets right up to you, and you open your mouth to speak, he keeps moving, cupping your jaw and pressing a series of kisses against your lips.
When he pulls back you frown is gone, replaced with a lightness he hasn't seen since before he’d told you he’d be leaving.
“Will you wait for me?” he asks breathlessly, aware now that the carrier had begun boarding, and he needed to get back.
“What?” you ask with a slight laugh. Jake only leans in to kiss you again, and from somewhere behind him, he can hear a few servicemen whistle. You’re still giggling when he pulls back, but he digs into his uniform pockets and brings out his keys, pressing them into your hands.
“Wait for me.” he says again, waiting until you nod your assent before looking away from you. Through the crowd, he can hear someone, Rooster calling him, an edge of warning in his voice.
“I’ve got to go.” he tells you dumbly, and kisses you again.
“I know. Go! I’ll be here when you get back!” you assure him with a laugh, kissing him back but pushing him away at the same time. Jake grins upon hearing the words, and steps in to kiss you again, before finally dragging his body forcefully away from yours, and back to his team.
Phoenix is giving him a funny look that he ignores as he takes his bag back from Rooster with a silent nod of thanks. He receives a pat on the shoulder from the other man, who looks down his sunglasses at him thoughtfully. Jake sees his eyes trail off and he knows Rooster is looking at you again. He pats Jake’s shoulder once more, his lips tipping up teasingly.
“She’s cute,” Rooster tells him. Jake eyes him as he replaces his sunglasses.
“Yeah,” he says. “She is.”
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“Hey babygirl, it’s good to see you,” Jake can’t help his wide grin even as he stares at your somewhat blank, reserved expression. Something in his chest wobbles as you eventually give him a weak smile, and he nervously adjusts his camera.
“Hi, Jake.” You say. It only makes his stomach wobble too.
“Is the software working okay? I have captions?” he asks, double checking the program on his end to make sure for the fourth time that everyone is tip top. You nod.
“Yeah, yeah, everything is working fine. I even put my hearing aids in… I’ve missed your voice,” you tell him.
Your words go a small way to alleviate his anxiety, but it’s been four months since he’s communicated with you via more than just email, and he can’t help but listen to the voices in his head from long before he met you, telling him that you don’t want to wait for him any longer.
“I’m honoured, you hate wearing those,” he says with a stiff laugh. You smile a little wider, but don’t seem to relax.
“Too much noise,” you agree. A quiet beat passes between you and Jake steels himself for what he knows is to come. You both speak at exactly the same time.
“Listen, baby, I’m really sorry I haven’t been able to do this sooner, but–”
“–I’m pregnant.”
Jake freezes, and so do you.
“Oh, thank god,” he hears himself say outloud, his entire body sagging as the weight of what he’d thought you were about to say leaves his body entirely.
“That’s… that’s not what I was expecting…” all stress seems to have left your body too, and for the first time since your call connected, you too appear to be completely at ease. “I thought you were going to break up with me…” you tell him, making Jake start.
“I thought you were going to break up with me!” Jake exclaims, before quickly quientening his voice. “Christ you scared me,” he tells you, letting out a sigh of relief.
Your face is a mixture of amusement and bashfulness.
“You’re more scared of me breaking up with you, than me being pregnant?” you ask, and Jake finds himself nodding immediately.
“I wouldn’t say scared, per se…”
“Your own words, Jake,” you remind him, and he chuckles, but shrugs. You both pause for a moment as you take in the wealth of new information and relationship security you now bask in. Jake jumps then, and leans in closer to his screen.
“How far along are you?” he asks, unsure of what really to ask in this situation, it’s honestly not one he’d ever been in before, but he’s proud to discover his mind immediately has calibrated for it.
“I’m going to the doctor in the morning, but I’m guessing around four months,” you tell him with a slightly wry smile. Jake laughs.
“I should hope so,” Jake chortles, before turning serious again when he sees you only laugh weakly.
“How are you feeling, baby?” he asks, then quickly, for your sake, adds; “For the record, I want whatever you want, I just want it with you.”
Your face travels through several emotions, but you at last give him a watery little smile.
“I really thought you’d break up with me, I haven’t even thought about anything else,” you admit, and Jake feels something else in his chest wobble.
“Honey, unless you’re planning on breaking my heart right now, I’m not breaking up with you any time soon… or ever, if I’m honest… I’m sorry that’s not been clearer…” he tells you, feeling a slight lump in his throat at the very thought.
You were it for him, he thinks, he can’t imagine not coming home to you. He’d even considered throwing his medical on purpose the other day, just so he could wait for your email he knew was likely to come. Jake has never even considered that before, not even for family. A knock on the door makes his face fall, and he turns to glare at the ensign who pokes their head in.
“Liuetenant Seresin, sir, Captain Mitchell requires you on deck.”
Jake sighs, but nods grimly.
“Tell him I’ll be there in a moment.”
“Sir!”
Jake looks back at you, already smiling sadly.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I need to go,” he says tiredly. He’d wished he got more time to talk with you, but especially about this.
“It’s okay Jake, we’ll be fine,” you tell him. Jake can’t stop the quirk of his lips as he stares at you.
“‘We’ huh?” he asks teasingly, feeling something like excitement, or perhaps pure, sheer joy race through his veins. You cock your head but your arm moves, he can’t see where exactly, but he suspects your hand now rests against your belly.
“Yeah. We.”
Jake swallows thickly, and nods, unable to fight the smile that pulls at his lips.
“Okay, baby, okay,” he hears another knocking on his door and huffs. “Send me everything you can, I don’t know when I’ll get to call you again, okay? Send me everything.”
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Jake walks quietly alongside Dagger as they return to their ready room, listening to them discussing possible ‘new’ hand signs for each other to signal readiness for the manuevour they’d been working on not even twenty minutes ago, prior to landing. He checks back into the conversation long enough to watch the proposed sign that Payback suggests, and immediately begins shaking his head.
“That’s ‘math’ in sign language,” Jake tells him, earning a look from Phoenix.
“Since when do you know ASL?” she asks, not fully sounding accusatory, but certainly not shying away from that tone either. Jake looks up at her and opens his mouth, but it’s Bob who gets there before him.
“He’s been practising with me,” Bob informs her, making Phoenix only more curious. She turns back to Jake expectantly. Jake shifts on his feet as the group comes to a halt, clearly also wanting to know what this is about, and for a brief moment, he considers telling them to mind their damn business.
That thought passes though, his spite warmed into a quiet kind of glee at the mere thought of you, his chest tingling slightly under the picture he has tucked into his flight suit.
“My girlfriend is deaf,” he says at last with a small shrug. Phoenix stays eying him for a second, even more curiosity filling her gaze, but after a moment she relents. He knows she’ll have questions later, but for now seems to be content not to make him answer them in front of everyone.
“Huh.” she says, and with that the squad continues moving.
Eventually, Phoenix and Halo peel off to the women’s locker rooms, the boys moving on to theirs, Payback, Coyote, Fanboy and Bob making straight for the showers. Jake can’t shower yet, though, he has precious cargo to return to safety, so moves straight for his locker, peeling it and carefully removing the photograph from his breast. Using the wad of blu-tac he’d acquired a few weeks back, he gingerly sticks the image backup in its home when he’s not flying, making sure not to get any fingerprints on it as he does.
“That was a good exercise,” Rooster’s voice makes Jake almost jump out of his skin, and he turns to look over his shoulder, quickly shooting the other man a nod.
“Yeah,” he replies simply, his lips thinning into a line as Rooster steps closer, opening his own locker but inevitably glancing over at Jake’s in the process. Jake tenses up as he feels Bradshaw pause, but after only a few agonising seconds, Rooster is moving again.
“Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound.
“Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.
Jake reaches up and rapps the ultrasound fondly.
“Twenty-three weeks. She’s supposed to be the size of a peach, but hell if I know what I’m looking at,” Jake shrugs and rolls his eyes, even letting loose a small smile when Rooster leans over to get a closer look. After a moment he too pulls a face and they meet eyes.
“Yeah, looks like topography to me,” Rooster shrugs as well. Jake looks back to the scan thoughtfully.
“Oh. Yeah. There’s a mountain range…. Small valley…” Jake trails off as the showers seem to shut off in near-unisen. 
He quickly shoots Rooster a steely-eyed stare, which thankfully the other man seems to understand the meaning of, because all too soon their conversation comes to an end and Jake shuts his locker door protectively.
Their veil of secrecy is shattered however, when Javy, dressed in only his towel, waltzes right up to Jake, opens his locker door again, places a kiss to the ultrasound, then carries right on as Jake quickly closes it behind him. Rooster shoots him a look, and before the others can make an appearance, Jake explains himself.
“Only Javy knows,” he grinds out, but can’t find himself too annoyed. Javy had immediately taken to his Uncle role, sending little gift packages to Jake's house for you to discover.
The ‘My Uncle Is Single’ onesie was particularly cute.
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Jake doesn’t even really have to push his way to the front of the line at the docks. Not only had Dagger made a path for him, but they were actively hauling at the collars of younger sailors, and from behind him he can hear various calls of ‘make way!’ and when one sailor protests a little too loudly, Phoenix saying ‘Hangman’s about to meet his kid for the first time, do you really want to get in the way of that?’. He makes a note to thank them later, but then he sees you, and he sees his baby, and all thoughts fly out of his brain.
He rushes up to you, gathering you both in one tight hug before you even seem to realise it’s him. But then he hears you laughing waterly, and he pulls his face back enough to plant a long, passionate kiss to your lips.
“Hey baby, hi!” he gushes cupping your cheek in his hand, before quickly extracting himself only a little, and focusing his attention on the bundle of excited squeals in your arms.
“Hi Princess, c’mere, I’ve been waiting so long to meet you!” Jake continues to talk before you can even get a word in edgewise. You laugh again, and shift the baby on your hip enough and Jake steps in again quickly relieving you of the weight. His daughter is immediately enraptured by the pins and shinies on his uniform, and she babbles talkatively up at him. Jake had shared his worries with you that she wouldn’t know him, recognise him, but all that is quickly abated when she stuffs a fist in her mouth and all but collapses against his chest.
His whole body fills with a warmth like he’s never known and he looks over at you.
“I think it’s too loud for her,” you say with a laugh, cuddling in closer to the other side of his chest. Jake looks between the two of you lovingly, adjusting his girl so he can show off some of the ASL he’d managed to learn in the last fourteen months.
Sorry, he signs carefully. Just – little – longer. Team – want – meet – you – both.
Your face lights up in recognition and your eyes get a little mistier. So – good – now! You sign back slowly for him, just as he feels several presences come to an anxious stop behind him.
“Bob helped,” he says, getsuring over at Bob, who steps forward with a short little wave.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ma’am,” he tells you, before his eyes shift to the baby in Jake’s arms. He tips his hat again at the girl who, as Jake turns, seems to be quietly inspecting the newcomers, drooling all over her tiny little hand. Bob does another little wave, more goofy this time, and she giggles, but turns her face inward briefly to Jake’s chest even more.
Jake uses his free arm to pull you in a little, and nods at his team.
“Baby, this is Dagger, that’s Bob,” he briefly pauses to show you Bob’s sign name, before he goes on to point out the others. “Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy, Payback, and this is–” he gets cut off as Javy pushes his way to the front of the crowd.
“Uncle Javy!” he announces, balling you up in a tight hug. You laugh and nod.
“Thank you for all the gifts for her! She loves them!” you tell him, which only makes him smile wider, and puff his chest out some as he rounds on Jake and his daughter.
“Can I hold her now?” he asks, with his arms already out. Jake’s features drop into a friendly glare.
“No.” he says firmly, tugging the baby closer. He’s rewarded when she begins to fuss a little at all the new attention, and Jake quickly begins shushing and cooing at her, only for her to relax and fall quiet, her tiny fists now clutching desperately into his jacket.
“That’s right baby, daddy’s not gonna let Uncle Javy take you away from him.” He runs his hand comfortingly up and down her little back, snuggling her closer.
Javy rolls his eyes, but relents, pointing at Jake and you.
“Ya’ll got one week, then I’m crashing,” he tells you. Jake shakes his head, but you nod, looking up at him. You sign ‘babysitter?’ at him, then getsure at Dagger in general, and after he puts two and two together, he’s shaking his head.
“No. No way,” he says. You nod again and gesture back to the group.
“No,” he says.
“Yes.” you reply, Bob nodding quickly along with you. Jake rolls his eyes up at the sky, then back down at you. He looks over at where Rooster, Phoenix, Fanboy and Payback have all started cooing and making faces at his girl, making her giggle and kick her feet, and lets out a sigh.
“Fine. Maybe.”
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mossyscavern · 2 months ago
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Not spies, just a bit incompetent.
_________________________
“Now, are you spies? Or just incompetent! Lackeys!”
The winged bot asked, leaning forward with a harsh yell as red optics flared. “Whoa, we’re not spies.” Orion ushered, servos up. “But he is incompetent.” Elita adds.
“Scanning electrical impulses: he speaks, the truth.” The bot with the face guard and yellow visor states after scanning-. ‘Is that bee?! Why’s that mech holding bee?!’ Orion thought, worry coursing through him.
“That just means he believes himself, like any spy would.” He states, leaning against the other armrest of the throne. “Hmh! M! M! Mh!” Bee tries to say, kicking his peds excitedly, but thanks to the treat he’s eating, he can’t talk.
Orion’s glad that he’s alright.. but he still can’t help but worry about the young sparkling. “Uhm.. Why is he holding him..? Is that an energon treat?” Elita-1 asks, pointing and threatening.
And from the looks of it, D really doesn’t like how they’re holding bee, judging by the obvious death stare. “He wouldn’t stop talking.” The one eyed mech explains. “Even when he was unconscious?” She wondered, optic ridge raise-.
“WE DIDN’T KNOCK OUT A SPARKLING!!!” He shouts stomping his ped, sounding offended by her question.
“Enough. Two options for you, 1: we slowly dismantle each of you, one bolt and screw at a time! And really make sure you feel it for potential kidnapping.” He says, listing off one of the two options with a scowl.
“Or 2: in exchange for a quick death, you give us intel on the energon trains, access to the mines or anything else that could hurt your boss, Sentinel Prime.” He threatens, darkening his optics more towards the three.
D-16 darkens his optics, not entirely trusting any of them.. especially with the sparkling in their arms. “Who exactly are you?” Elita asks.
Bee ate the energon treat more quickly now, trying to finish it in 20 seconds. “Wait!! Not too quickly!” The one eyed mech warned, too little too late by the time bee finished the cube.
“The cybertronian! *hic* high *hic* guard!” Bee says, hiccuping as he spoke. “*sighs* I told him not to eat it quickly.” The mech sighs, shaking his hexagonal helm fondly, handing an energon drink to the sparkling.
“Prestigious *hic* defenders of *hic* Iacon. *hic* prest-*hic*-igious?” Bee asks, hiccuping each word, then drank the energon and thanked them.
“Right. I read all about you in the archives. You were the most legendary warriors in all of Cybertron.” Orion exclaims, pointedly before remembering a very important detail about them. ‘They’ll always protect our young.’ He thought.
“Look, look! There’s starscream! Shockwave! The bot carrying me is Soundwave!” he exclaims, pointing to each main three before raising his hand.
“Hey, are all of you named wave? There’s a lot of waves” bee asked, getting an answer from shockwave’s shaking head.
“Silence!” Starscream shouts. “The young spark is correct.” The seeker states, giving bee a smile when he celebrated. “We were once the High Guard,” he starts, leaning back on the throne.
“We witnessed Sentinel’s Betrayal, saw the Primes fall. Ever since then, we’ve been fighting from the shadows to sabotage Sentinel.”
“That’s great! We’re also-.” Orion was about to stand before a multitude of weapons are levelled to his face. “Woah, okay! We’re good, relax, we’re all friends here. I just wanted to say that we’re all allies here.”
“Hah! Yeah right, like we’d believe the bots that probably kidnap the sparkling.” Starscream stood up, screaming in rage at the last bit, making everybot quiet… all but a small voice broke the silence.
“… what?”
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I’m… making this one a 2 parter.
1: I like to make these things short and sweet so it’s not too overwhelming. 2: … I can’t fit in some of moments from the movie and pair it with the baby au.. like that fight scene between D-16 and starscream.
I got permission to write this from @yuukirita … and here’s their art and writing for the inspiration -> high guard and the baby please go check it out.
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dc-x-reader-stuff · 7 months ago
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HusbandJason Todd x Reader head cannons please !!!
Husband! Jason Todd Hc’s
Jason Todd x Gn!Reader
My first time writing Jason stuff, AaAa - I hope it’s accurate to a good point. Like I said before I’m partial to Wayne Family Adventures Jason and a mix between him and the other versions of Jason’s I’ve seen on this app so I hope it’s acceptable- TvT
I’ve seen a lot of people be a stickler about the accuracy of Jason and have gotten genuinely angry if he was too nice or too angry or whatever so it’s all ahdjfnfjfn-
Anyways I hope you enjoy though- :DD
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The wedding the both of you have was small. Well, small-ish - there was a lot of people he wanted to invite, surprisingly, ranging from some close friends, to allies in the vigilante world, to his family. There were a lot of vigilante’s in their civilian forms at your guy’s wedding. Your side of the family was really surprised The Bruce Wayne and The Clark Kent was there without any paparazzi whatsoever.
(You and Jason were very careful about that. So was Bruce, especially for all the hell Jason went through when he was younger. They may be on better terms now, but he still felt he had a lot to make up for. Jason is completely fine with that - to a point, of course.)
The honeymoon? Nice and calm vacation to a small town near Smallville. Jason and you wanted a getaway for just eachother, without any stresses of vigilante stuff, or villains to inevitably interrupt that.
Unbeknownst to the both of you, his siblings were also keeping a very strict routine of ‘DO NOT CONTACT JASON OR Y/N UNLESS IF IT IS A DIRE, DIRE EMERGENCY’
Trust me, if it was two dires you both would’ve had to come home.
Luckily that didn’t happen.
Now, married life back in the city was a whole other thing to get used to.
You two have already lived together for the past couple years beforehand. You two have already dealt with your fair share of strains in the relationship, and still do to some degree. But luckily over the years before marriage you guys found a way to deal with that in a healthy way.
You prioritize healthy coping skills. So does Jason.
Even your respective therapists do. (Harley Quinn helped you both find ones qualified for your respective traumas. Very hard task, but Harley has a bit of a soft spot for Red Hood both in and out of the mask. She’s pretty chill with you too.)
Jason has his bouts of anger. Never, ever takes it out on you though, ever. Hell no. You guys have a punching bag for that. Sometimes you both use it together if you guys are venting about your day! Very cathartic and nice to bond with.
He teaches you how to fight. Just in case. You hate using weapons but he helps you get more comfortable, and you guys go over plans in case of break-ins, kidnappings, ect.
Especially if someone decides to burgle your cat.
You guys have a black cat you guys found in an alleyway a year into dating. He is your guy’s son that you decided to name Robin. Jason didn’t like the name at first, especially since you not-so-subtly alluded it to be reminiscent of his Robin days, but over time it stuck.
Robin is a nice and very sweet kitty. No one messes with Robin and you have thrown hands after someone broke into your apartment once to steal him. That was also during the time you moved in with Jason, he freaked out when you called him after the break in. Thoroughly impressed you managed to beat up the intruder but he cares about your’s and your cat’s safety - you moved in not long afterwards.
Reading and drawing dates - you guys, even into your marriage, go on small dates like these that don’t require too much thought or money. Sometimes you go to the park, or if it’s raining to your guy’s favorite café, with your favorite books (and sketchbook no. 173637294 for you specifically), and just enjoy your times together.
You guys do it at home too, but it’s fun to dress up and get out of the apartment for those kinds of dates.
Your home, despite all the weapons he has hidden around or on ‘decorative’ display, is quite cozy too!! It’s your safe space and you want it to exude that energy all throughout. Jason likes figuring out where decorations and furniture should go with you, it’s his favorite thing that gives him a sense of normalcy with you.
Also the banter between you two is fun. Smartass after smartass remark leaves you in stitches with laughter. Especially if it’s late at night and you both are loopy from lack of sleep. (Jason has more practice with that but it still effects him to some degree.)
At this point being married, you’re used to his nightly activities too. Sometimes you stay up and make him his favorite food to the best of your ability (you aren’t too good at cooking, but you’re learning for the both of you, same as him). Other times you just order takeout and eat with him.
Sometimes you help with his injuries, other times you don’t. If they’re small and benign he’s able to do them himself, bigger ones have you worried and helping him.
You always make sure he has an icepack ready for bruises. He’s taught you how to stitch wounds up to, given the fact that you don’t have as much medical experience as him.
Also after his nightly escapades as Red Hood, you guys sit and have tea too!! Calms him down enough to sleep, even if some nights are harder than others.
He’s gotten better at coping with his PTSD, but as per the usual he does have his nightmares at times. You being there right next to him helps. And you help ground him back into reality. Be it cuddles, if he’s comfortable with them, or be it just sitting there next to him and talking to him about whatever’s on your mind until he’s laying back down to listen to you.
You guys switch between who’s big and little spoon.
Robin is always near you guys in some way during bedtime. One time you woke up to cat fur in between your’s and Jason’s heads before. Robin doesn’t understand personal space at all but you guy’s love it all the same.
Speaking of which, he’s a natural born shoulder kitty! He will jump on your shoulders when the offer is available. Sometimes he scares the crap out of the both of you though whenever he’s being frisky, though. But normally Robin’s smart enough to do it when you two are aware that he’s there. He learns.
On your harder days, Jason makes you breakfast and makes you tea just like you do for him. He always asks you what you need, what you’re comfortable with. Some days it’s cuddling, other times when you don’t want to be touched you just tell him you want him near only. He knows that’s when he can just sit beside you on either the couch, table, barstools or bed and just read while you listen and watch your guy’s favorite shows.
You guys also have nights where you guys have watch parties too.
Sometimes his siblings join in too, bringing food from Alfred as well. It’s fun, and annoying for Jason at times, but still great nonetheless.
You guys visit the manor when needed, or during holidays too. Hanukkah, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, certain Galas, birthday parties, ect.
Sometimes you guys both just visit to mess with his siblings and Bruce. Cause some chaos a bit, that sort of thing. It’s fun.
Also you guys have gossip dates.
Be it about vigilante drama, co-worker drama, customer drama, family drama, villain drama, you guys will gossip and when those dates are at home Robin the cat will put his two cents in as well. He’s as vocal as he is sweet. Which is very.
And sometimes you record when Jason and Robin have conversations. Neither of you guys can understand the cat’s meows but it’s so fun interpreting it and seeing your husband have a full on conversation with the cat. You send it to the group chat you’re in with all the siblings and he never hears the end of it for the next few patrols. Sometimes Dick and Tim and Duke want to know what the tea is between Jason and the cat and he always says “That’s between me, my spouse and my cat, not you three.”
You inevitably tell them anyways, as well as Cass, Steph and Barbara.
Also Damian loves Robin that cat. He requests play dates between his pets and yours. You always cave for the kid, much to Jason’s dismay. But then again, he caves for him too. He always does.
Speaking of kids, I don’t think you guys will necessarily have one for a long, long while.
You guys agreed that you have to be absolutely sure and ready. Financially, mentally, emotionally, physically, mentally. Kids are a big responsibility and neither of you want your kids to ever grow up in an unsafe and unstable environment.
When you guys are ready though, which won’t be for a long while, I’m sure you guys will pull a Bruce and adopt or foster kids. Teenagers first, along with their siblings if they have any. You’d never separate them from their siblings - hell, the both of you, along with some help from his family and friends, would track siblings down if needed.
Like I said though, that won’t be for a long while.
You two are perfectly content in your save haven apartment with your lovely black cat Robin.
Besides, if you guys had kids early, Robin would be jealous and attention starved.
Neither of you would want that.
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darkstaria · 7 months ago
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Yandere Superfam - Happy Father's Day!
It was Father's day semi recently, so I wrote this. Note: it is very important to me that every one who reads this understands that I didn't actually write this on Father's Day. I swear!
Oh, and I updated the soul animal au Taglist again, so hopefully I got everyone!
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"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" A voice sung to you, dragging you from the depths of oblivion you found solace in. The sound of opening curtains cut into you like a knife.
"Mmmghhh..." You attempted, keeping your eyes firmly closed against the rising sun blaring into your eyeballs. Couldn't he just go away? You stared blearily. Clark Kent, or rather, Superman was smiling, a beaming ray that burnt into you.
"Come on now, Sunshine. It's Father's Day! Aren't you excited to spend it with your dad?"
No, is what you wanted to say. But you bit the comment down as you often did. It never helped, not with Bruce, not with Clark. How unfair.
"You couldn't have let me sleep for a little longer?" You tried, almost whining. First they use ‘medicine’ to get you to sleep, then they force you to wake up early.
"Sorry but that won't be happening. We only have limited time with you today! We have to enjoy as much time together as we can before you go to Bruce's." He looked apologetic, but you doubted it. He never truly was.
Your life with Superman was an endless spiral of apologies, a litany of white lies hidden by a brilliant smile. A sun that shone so brightly, you almost forgot the burns.
You gave a little sigh, but acknowledged the futility of your actions. A few years of this and you let go of resisting the little things. It made things easier.
You got out of your bed, doing your best to ignore the fervent eyes that traced your every movement. You reached under your bed, pulling out his present from under your bed. It wasn't much of a hiding space, given that it was known by every person that lived in the house, but you appreciated that they let you have little things like this. Or pretended to, anyways.
“Here you go.” You thrust the present towards him, wanting to get it over with.
“That’s Bruce’s present.” He replied, with a slight smirk.
“Eh.. how?” You mumbled, looking down. “You peaked, didn't you!”
“No I didn't not. I just know the difference between your wrapping, and Alfred’s wrapping.”
You glanced down, noticing the immaculately decorated and wrapped present in your grasp. Whoops.
With a swift movement, you reached under your bed and grasped the other present, exchanging the two with a quick action. There was a visible difference in the two, Clark’s being much more shoddily wrapped.
“Forget about that.” You demanded. Trying to get him to ignore it, you pushed his actual present in his direction.
“Woah, hold on there.” He smiled. “Jon’s been waiting downstairs to give me his present too, you two have to do it together, remember.” He patted you on the back. “Come on!”
With your frustrated affirmation, the two of you went downstairs, immediately meeting the excited gazes of both Lois and Jon. Jon in particular was bouncing in his seat, clutching onto a bunch of gifts.
“Happy Father’s day!” He shouted, a beaming smile on his face. Clark chucked, patting Jon’s hair.
“Thank you Jon.” The two began a conversation about Jon’s gifts, and you swiftly became bored. Your eyes strayed away from the table, until you accidentally locked eyes with Lois. She smiled at you, a soft image of happiness. She was definitely the most subtle of the family. It even took you a few escape attempts before you realised she wasn't your ally. After that it became difficult to see her the same way.
“And what about you, sunshine?” A hand ruffled your hair, Clark interrupting your musings with a single gesture. You bit back a flinch.
“Ah yeah, this is my present… Dad.” You attempted to sound jovial. Judging by the smile on his face it had worked, but you weren't entirely sure if that was a result of your actions skills or his delusions.
“Thank you! Let’s see what you've made this year.” Clark took no time in unwrapping the gift. “Ah, another mug, and just look at this drawing, you get more creative every time.” He beamed. You felt like living in this household half the time entitled you to sunglasses.
Your gift wasn't anything fancy, just a simple mug with a terribly drawn face on it. The words ‘happy dad’ were written under the face, in sloppy handwriting.
Clark walked over to a cabinet, opening it up. In the cabinet lay another mug, this one lacking any drawing at all. Instead, it had the name Clark written on and drawn out, and the word Dad swiftly smudged on instead.
That mug was actually one of Clark’s old mugs, you had just stolen it upon learning that they had actually expected a gift from you on Father’s Day. You originally wrote Clark down, but soon realised that would be a mistake, crossing it out and writing Dad. Somehow, he loved it.
In all honesty, you couldn't complain. If you set the bar this low, you could easily up it the next year without having to put in much effort. As long as you were ‘creative’ Clark accepted anything, if it was from you. Maybe next year your mug drawing would be two drawings, instead of one. You dreaded the time when you'd eventually have to put actual effort into gifts. Surely, you'd have escaped before then.
“Come on kids!” Clark called out, drawing your attention back to him. “Let’s enjoy today as much as we can, before Sunshine has to go to Wayne Manor later.”
Jon pouted. “Do they really have to go? They went last year too. They already spent half their time at Wayne Manor as is.” He grumbled. Jon was more obvious in his possessiveness, something that occasionally ruffled the feathers of the Batfam. The tug of war between Jon and Damian was far too frequent, the memory of it making your shoulders ache a little.
“Now now Jon. Bruce is Sunshine’s father just as much as I am.”
Considering neither of them were your father, his statement was a little infuriating.
“What game are we going to play this time?” Your question was both an act of masochism and genuine interest. Feigning injuries never worked against two superhumans who could look into your very bone structure. Instead, you had come to find some enjoyment in watching Clark and Jon bumble about, trying to play fair in a competitive game wherein they viewed you as both weaker and fragile. It was actually a great method for venting your anger, as long as you weren't too overt about it.
If you accidentally hit them with a hockey stick a few times, or aimed a basketball to their face a little too much, it wasn't your fault! It's not like they could feel it anyway.
“It'll be tennis today.” Clark declared, receiving an excited Ooh in response from Jon.
Ah, tennis. A little harder to use, but very much still workable. If it was golf you'd be screwed.
Oh, wait but..
“How are we playing tennis with three people?” You questioned. Lois tended to stay out of your games, preferring to watch.
“I'll play against you and Jon. If any of Bruce’s family show up early again, then one of them can join in too.” Clark spoke cheerfully, but you knew it always bothered him a bit when they arrived too soon.
Clark and Bruce’s ‘shared custody’ of you wasn't always so amicable. At one point it was downright violent. Honestly if it weren't for the effects their efforts were having on you they'd have probably escalated into a war. They had come to an agreement since, but it always bothered them whenever it was infringed on in some form.
“Time to get going Sunshine! Jon’s already waiting for you!” An abrupt push to your back jolted you forward, giving you a small jump of shock. Ugh. You glared at Superman as he responded to your surprise with good natured laughter.
You slowly walked out into the field, Jon handing you a tennis racket, his smile gleaming like the sun.
You could only hope that Batman was a little calmer on Father’s Day.
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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year ago
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There’s something about him being so willing to learn what she likes and watching her before trying to prove himself that is so damn hot🫠🥵
The Tipping Point
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Summary: When Jake learns that no one has ever satisfied you, he makes it his mission to change that. Inspired by my favorite Seresin Slut @thedroneranger and my favorite Rooster fic I've written Just The Tip
Warnings: Language, Smut, 18+ Minors DNI
Pairing: Hangman x Reader
...........................................
Your eyes are as wide as the dinner plates the two of you were eating off of. You couldn't believe what your boyfriend had just suggested.
"You can't be serious." You said, looking at him in disbelief. "Jake, please tell me you're kidding."
"I'm as serious as a heart attack, darlin." Jake smiled back at you. "Jake, I—" He cut you off before you could finish.
"You told me that when we first started dating, you wanted to take things slow. And I'm totally okay with that. But you've also told me that no one has ever been able to get you off. I want to change that." He stated.
"I understand that, Jake, but I—" you protested.
"But nothing, honey. I'm a visual learner. Show me what you like. I want to take care of you. I want to show you that I'm better than the guys you dated before me. Prove that I am the best of the best." He smirked.
It really shouldn't come as a surprise to you. The fact that Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, Naval aviator extraordinaire, would want to prove to you that he is the best. The two of you had been together for just over five months, and in that time, he'd already prove himself to be the best boyfriend you'd ever had.
When you first started dating, you told him you wanted to take things slow. After a while, you told him the real reason was because no boyfriend or hook up in the past had ever made you cum. He had been trying to rectify that situation for a while now.
Though, him asking you to touch yourself so he could watch was not something you expected. You met his eyes. At first, you thought he was kidding. But with just one look, you knew he was serious.
You sighed. "Okay" you said in a voice just above a whisper.
"Yeah?" He asked. "Yeah." You confirmed.
A huge smile broke out across his face. Before you could change your mind, Jake was scooping you out of your chair and hauling you to your bedroom.
He gently deposited your feet on the floor. "Where do you want me to sit? You're in charge here." Jake said, kissing your head.
"Um, you can pull my desk chair to the foot of the bed. You said shyly. Jake quickly grabbed it and positioned it. With your back turned to him, you stripped off your shirt and pants. In a moment of confidence, you turned to face him. You were wearing a baby blue set. You could see he pupils go wide at the site of you.
Without saying a word, you reached behind your back and unhooked your bra. You slipped it off your shoulders and tossed it to the ground.
Silently, you let your panties slide down your legs. They were already damp, just from the intensity of how he was watching you.
Feeling cocky, you balled them up and tossed them to him. He caught them and immediately inhaled your scent.
"All of this just for me?" He asked. You giggled.
"Do you mind if I use my vibrator?" You asked him.
"Whatever you want, sweetheart. This is about you." He said. There wasn't a hint of jealousy in his voice. You'd been with a few gues who would have scoffed at the idea, but not Jake. He wanted to learn what made you tick. He was invested in you.
You opened your nightstand and pulled out your favorite purple bullet. You grabbed a pillow and laid down on the bed. Once you were comfortable, you put the pillow under your hips and spread your legs.
"Such a pretty pussy." Jake mumbled out. You raised your head just enough to look at him. His eyes were trained on your core.
You grabbed your vibrator and turned it to your favorite setting.
You let it slide through your slick and gathered it up before setting it directly on your clit.
You circled the toy around your aching bundle of nerves and sighed. Your left hand came up to squeezed your breasts, bringing your nipples to hard, pebbled peaks.
"Oh, Jake," you sighed. His names fell easily from your lips as you dipped your toy into your wet cunt before dragging it back to your clit.
"Fuck," you heard Jake grunt out. You looked up to see his shirt had been stripped off and that his pants and boxers were pushed down to his ankles and he was stroking his cock.
"Learning anything?" You asked him.
"Lots, keep going, baby. I want to see you cum for me." He moaned out.
Emboldened by his words, you turned the vibrator up a setting. The strong vibrations made your body jolt.
You kept circling the toy on your clit, applying pressure. You could feel your release approaching. Your toes curled, and you felt yourself clenching around nothing.
Your head thrashed wildly, and you couldn't contain your cries of pleasure.
"Oh fuck Jakey. Feels so good. Mmm, yes, Jake, yes!" You cried out.
"Keep going, baby girl. You have no idea how hot this is. My cock is so fucking hard from watching you. Better than any fucking porn." He moans out. You can hear him panting. It makes you even wetter knowing that he is enjoying this just as much as you are.
"I'm s'close Jake. I'm gonna cum." You cry. You can feel the tightness in your belly.
"Cum for me baby. I wanna see you cum for me. Please." Jake almost begs.
You flick your wrist and circle your bud a few more times before you are cumming hard.
"JAKE!" You cry his name as you work yourself through your high.
Once you've come down. You turn the toy off and set it to the side. You sit up enough to look at him.
Jake is panting, and you see the white ropes of cum covering his abdomen.
"Christ baby, you don't know how hot that was." He tells you.
You lay back on the pillows and sigh. You're trying to think of a smart ass reply, but your brain isn't working.
"Has anyone ever gone down on you?" Jake asks.
"No." You breathe out, still staring at the ceiling.
"Can I?' He asked. "Now?" You lean up and see that he's moved from the chair and is kneeling at the foot of the bed.
"There's no better time than the present." He states.
"You're sure?" You ask him. This is definitely not how you thought this evening would go.
He nods his head furiously.
"Well, why not?" You say before flopping back.
You'd no sooner gotten settled before Jake was pulling you to the edge of the bed. He made sure the pillow was still under your hips before he threw both of your legs over his shoulders.
"Tell me what you like and what you don't like, okay?" He asks.
"Yes, sir." You mock. But anything else dies on your lips as he broad, flat tongue slides across your slit.
Your hips jump at the pleasant but unfamiliar sensation. You hear him chuckle as his forearm comes to lay across your pelvis to keep you in place. He does it a few more times before tracing your clit with the just the tip of his tongue.
"Mmm.. that feels good." You sigh. He keeps doing it, speeding up and applying more pressure each time he does it.
It feels good, but you need more. You thread your fingers through his hair and push his face towards your core.
Taking the hint, Jake wraps his lips around the bundle and sucks it—hard.
"Shit! That feels so good, baby." You cry out. Jake hums against you and does it again.
He let's go of it would a soft pop before dipping his tongue into your greedy, wet hole.
He fucks it into you repeatedly. Your cries of pleasure, spurring him on. He laps at your core, tasting your sweet nectar. His nose bumps against your clit with every lick.
"Jake, I—I need—" you pant.
"What do you need, baby. Use your words. Tell Daddy what you need princess.
"Your fingers. Please, Daddy... need them to fill me up." You cry out.
He sinks his middle and ring fingers into you. You're so wet for him, the glide in easily. You're vaugly aware of the cool metal of his Naval Academy ring against your heat.
He curls them into you. Easily finding the textured spot that is guaranteed to have you cumming in minutes.
"Oh, Daddy, fuck, Jake, just like that!" You moan out.
Your hand grips his hair tighter. Your thighs close in on his head, trapping him there. The heel of your foot digs into his back. He'll probably have a bruise there in the morning, but neither of you seem to care.
Everything feels so fucking good. This is what you had been missing out on. Watching you get off had Jake hard as a rock again. He ground his hip into your mattress to relieve some pressure.
"You look so pretty like this baby." Jake praises you.
You look down and meet his eyes. The green of them is just a thin halo around his lust blown pupils. Never breaking eye contact, he sucks your clit back into his mouth and speeds up the motions of his fingers, curling them and scissoring your walls.
"Just like that! Oh, just like that! Please don't stop!" You beg him.
"Don't plan on it, sweets. Daddy isn't going to stop until you cum all over his face. Come on baby, give it to me. Make a mess all over my face!" He encouraged you.
You can feel your high building deep inside you. It's different, though. It's more intense than any orgasm that you've ever given yourself.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You chant.
"Jake, I'm gonna, shit daddy, gonna—" You try to warn him, but it's all too much, and before you can say anything else, you're cumming hard against his face. It's harder than you ever have cum in your life.
He works you through it, lapping and curling his fingers. He doesn't stop until you're cumming again. Screaming his name so loud, you know your neighbors can hear you.
He continues to drink up every last drop of your release. Your thighs are shaking as you push his head away. He unwrap himself and leans back on his haunches.
His spend coats his boxers because getting you off twice, with just his mouth and his fingers, God it was hot. But making you squirt for him? He feels like God himself because of that.
He crawls up beside you in the bed. Your eyes are glassy and your whole body is flushed.
"That was amazing." You gasp. You turn and look at him. He has a genuine smile on his face.
"So I'm definitely the best then?" He asks with a grin.
"Definitely. The others can't compete where they don't compare." You affirm.
He leans down to kiss you.
"We need to get cleaned up and change the sheets. We made a mess." He tells you.
"This goes without saying, but you're definitely the first person to make me squirt too." You tell him as you sit up.
"And I plan to be the last." He affirms as the two of you head to the shower.
"Is that so?" You cock an eyebrow and look at him.
"Absolutely."
Hope yall enjoyed this! As always, likes are great, but comments and reblogs are golden
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theprioryorange · 3 months ago
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blood and glitter ➛ a sienna shaw x fem!reader oneshot
pairing(s): sienna shaw x fem!reader
summary: sienna shaw is an enigma with wings and a sword, destined. oh, she’s also your friend who you may or may not be a little in love with…
tags ~> fem!reader, fluff, smut, romance, friends to lovers, explicit sexual content, explicit language, no mentions of art the clown/any deaths, not really canon tbh, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering, scissoring, praise kink, d/s undertones, gay panic, awkward romance
warnings!: nsfw, pretty graphic smut, explicit language
word count: 11.3k+
a/n: this is my first ever time posting any writing of mine on here so i hope you all enjoy, i’m also going to be posting this to ao3 if you guys ever read stuff on there :) i’m currently experiencing terrifier 3 brain rot especially because of sienna so i need to write this to get it out of my system cus DAMN.
i've tried to make the reader's character not super specfiic as to be as inclusive as possible - the only things described physically is that the reader has female anatomy
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The steps that led up towards Sienna’s bedroom looked a little menacing as you stood at their bottom. It felt like you were about to enter a whole other private world you previously had never had access to. The situation was strange, not strange in nature, but because of the fact that although you and the other girl had been friends for months, you still had yet to step foot inside her bedroom.
You had been to her house before, especially when Allie and Brooke wanted to hang out too but had never been in her bedroom. The upstairs of her house was uncharted territory.
But it was normal right? It was completely normal, you were just a friend visiting another friend’s house, about to enter their bedroom so the two of you could get ready for a Halloween party. Every teen movie had this exact moment of calm where the characters could have dialogue and bond a little before moving onto the last big final act.
Sienna wasn’t just your friend though, to you she was something more. You didn’t want to just be her friend.
You had known she was special ever since she had waved you over one near summer afternoon to her lunch table and had complimented you on the iron-on patches that were littered across your jacket. The two young women sitting with her had looked a little confused when she started rambling on about Daft Punk and French Police (the band, not the law enforcement), but you had understood.
Like a puzzle, you two had fit perfectly together, two pieces clicking into place.
At first the fluttery feeling that bombarded your stomach at the thought of her was mistaken as relief. Platonic affection, and slightly pathetic gratitude that finally you didn’t have to sit alone at lunch. That you would now have some people you actually knew.
But once the four of you had begun to hang out, even though you and Allie got close fast, and Brooke at least tolerated your presence, your ever-growing bond with Sienna was different.
That bond, the thing you had labelled as different, should’ve made it easy for you to climb the stairs and waltz into the bedroom like it was yours. Instead, it had your feet glued to the floor. Barbara, Sienna’s mother and the one who had let you in, finally noticed your hesitation.
The woman didn’t seem to find it strange, simply chuckling and gesturing for you to go up. “She is expecting you honey, don’t worry.”
Simply giving her a smile to try and seem relaxed only aided in making you look more nauseous. And to save yourself further embarrassment in the company of your new friend’s mom, you went upstairs. A few of the room doors were opened, but instantly looking within the second one you knew it was Sienna’s.
The room faintly glowed with dim lamp light, and the walls were covered in posters and pieces of art that were sure to have been done by the brunette herself. Every time you had the pleasure of being shown something she had created it always managed to take your breath away. You yourself weren’t exactly terrible when it came to a pencil and pad, but your talent laid more in academics than anything truly creative.
Sienna had actually offered to teach you how to draw one evening after you had caught a glimpse of her notepad; design sketches for costumes and makeup looks covering the pages. The temptation of spending more time with her outside of classes and lunch break had won you over. So far, with her help, you now knew how to draw something reminiscent of a detailed cat. Nothing Picasso-like, but it was a start.
One of the things on her wall that caught your eye was a neon white LED light in the shape of a skull. It showcased there was something a little morbid about the beauty of Sienna’s aesthetic too. Both of you had bonded over your love for all things morbid and you regularly had horror movie nights – sometimes with Allie and Brooke. Most of the time it was just the two of you though, the way you preferred it.
“Hey” the young woman had noticed you standing in the doorway and got off the bed to greet you.
Holy. Shit.
She had messaged you pictures of the costume she had created throughout the months, showing you the tiresome but fulfilling process of how it came to be. But none of them had been of her actually wearing it. You subtly tried to grab onto the doorframe, so you didn’t fall over flat on your face.
The Valkyrie armour your friend had adorned was a shiny bronze, and the intricate details of everything needed a few looks to really sink in. It wasn’t only the outfit itself that was making your heart palpitate; half of her hair was down, and the other half was sorted neatly into pretty braids.
The realisation she had actually made all this herself added another extra reason to your speechlessness – the main fact being though that she looked like something out of a fantasy nerd’s wet dream. But in a good way, definitely in a good way.
“Wow…” was all you could say, making her laugh and spin around so you could see the back of her costume. The two majestic wings sprouting out of her back seemed ironic then as you were almost sure she was an angel.
“What’d you think?” Sienna asked, turning back around so she could gauge your reaction. Not that there was much to analyse there though, you were still silent – but thankfully had managed to close your mouth. Running a hand through your hair you tried to find the words to express how ethereal she looked.
“It’s great, really great.” Way to go, loser.
Her face dropped just a little, did she think you were being insincere because your response was so short? Quite the opposite. You quickly scrambled to try and rectify your statement.
“No, like I really mean it. I-I mean the shoulder piece, the wings, it’s so detailed and pretty. And your makeup, I mean wow you look so…sparkly!” Although what you had just said embarrassed you even further, Sienna’s disappointed expression had been replaced with fondness and amusement.
“Yeah?” the cosplayer murmured, turning back to the mirror, and admiring herself for another moment. The truth was, she was extremely proud of how it had turned out, and your approval had meant a lot to her especially considering her mother’s likely disapproval when she saw what she’d be going out in. The weight of your opinion to Sienna was more than what was standard or acceptable for the average friend, even if she couldn't admit that.
You nodded. “Yeah.”
“I can’t wait to see your costume” she smiled, looking down at the backpack you had put down on the floor. The reality was setting in that you’d have to show her your costume.
Seriously, compared to Sienna’s costume, everyone else’s would be very much underwhelming – it was mean of her to assume everyone just was as talented as she was. The chic vampire look you were about to try to achieve would definitely not live up to standard, but you couldn’t spend the entire evening in her bedroom doorway.
“Can I get changed in your bathroom?”
Sienna’s head tilted a little in confusion at that, but realised you weren’t comfortable with getting undressed in front of her, so she smiled and said: “Sure, it’s the first door when you turn right, you’ll easily find it.”
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Running a hand down your crisp shirt to smooth it out, you glanced at yourself in the mirror - so far you just looked a bit like a fancy Victorian aristocrat. It was agreed that the girl in the other room would help you do the special effects (and general) makeup for your costume, and you hoped that it would help elevate it to be a little more Halloweenesque.
No doubt your other two friends were doing the exact same thing right now, Allie putting a lot more effort into her costume than Brooke though.
“You ready for your makeover, Dracula?!” Sienna shouted from the other room, making you almost drop the comb you had brought with you into the sink (slicking back your hair was a harder affair than first thought).
You cleared your throat before replying. “Umm yeah hang on!” Grabbing what she’d need to transform you into a citizen of Transylvania, you walked back into the bedroom.
Standing in front of the bed, you gave her an awkward half sort of twirl. It made your cape swish around at least.
Sienna bit her lip as she tried not to laugh. “Wow, umm, it’s actually quite cool. I think the makeup will give it that extra oomph though, can’t have a vampire without fangs.” Both of you looked towards the package that contained the fake fangs. Also splayed out on the bed was a collection of makeup: eyeshadow palettes, mascaras, lip gloss, concealer – all Sienna’s, and some fake blood, glittery fake blood. You supposed that was where the chic part of your costume came in.
The armoured girl looked at you for a moment for patting a space on the bed, silently asking you to sit down so she could get started. You complied a little too quickly, feeling almost lightheaded by being in her presence and by being so close.
“Fangs or makeup first?”
You pointed to the fake, glue-on fangs a little apprehensively, hoping the glue wouldn’t fuck up your teeth.
Sienna worked quickly and efficiently, like how she did most things – you knew this because you spent admittedly quite a lot of time looking at her when she was in the middle of doing something. Brooke sometimes teased you for it, but you were pretty confident you had the others convinced your admiration for the artist was purely platonic.
“Open your mouth” the brunette instructed, you shifted on the bed a little and did as you were told. Her fingers tingled as she touched your face, tilting your head up so she could press on one of the fake fangs to your tooth, holding it until the glue stuck.
Whilst it wasn’t exactly what you had hoped for when you sometimes wished for her fingers in your mouth, it felt adrenaline-inducing all the same. You couldn’t take your eyes away from her face, even though you knew it was rude to stare, and even though you were almost certain she was aware of your staring. Sienna’s outfit and makeup was breathtaking, a homage to just how talented she was – how beautiful she was too.
The idea of her as some sort of mystic Valkyrie warrior fit, it fit perfectly and made you want to faint every time you looked at her.
“Okay, second and last one, just stay still for a moment.” The brunette applied a tiny dab of prosthetics glue to the end of the other vampire tooth before gesturing for you to open your mouth again. You did so and glanced away as she held the fake fang in place, trying not to acknowledge how flush your face was getting.
After they had been applied, and your teeth really did resemble ones of a bloodsucking creature of the night, Sienna moved on to doing your makeup.
The close proximity she had to your face was beginning to make you feel a little sweaty. The first step she took for your transformation was making you look a little more pale than usual, sickly. Not wanting to make it too obvious or campy by using face paint she instead used foundation, concealer and powder a few shades lighter than your natural skin colour.
Next came the eye makeup, Sienna dabbed very small amounts of what seemed to be eye shadow under your eyes to give the appearance of dark circles. Not that she needed much help with that, you were a bit of an insomniac.
The eyeshadow she used around your eyes was black and glittery, drawing attention to your irises. It felt weird trying not to look at the other girl when she was staring so intensely into (or rather, around) your eyes. The same thing happened when she was doing your lip gloss to quote unquote ‘draw attention to your mouth’ and subsequently, your fangs – you thought she might have been staring a little too hard.
And finally, the fake blood. Sienna had dipped the end of a very fine makeup brush in the fake crimson, tickling you slightly as she dabbed your lower lip with it. For a little extra effect, she let some run down your chin, staring a little intensely as some of it ran down your neck a little as your head was tilted back.
Trying not to take the moment as more than it was, and trying to calm your racing heart, you got off the bed to admire your friend’s handiwork in the mirror.
“Holy shit” you laughed, looking at your face from different angles. You could pass as Dracula himself if it wasn’t for the glitter in the fake blood Sienna had running down your chin. Unless he was a very campy Dracula.
“Sparkly Dracula” she commented, looking a little distracted as she assumably admired your costume. You turned around back to her and shot her a genuine smile.
“I love it, thank you.”
The girl shrugged a little and tried to brush the compliment off, but you could tell she was secretly happy to be praised. Sienna always acted humble and dismissive whenever someone complimented her artistry, but you could tell it made her feel good. She, in your opinion, should have been used to compliments by then as everything she touched turned to metaphorical gold, Halloween costumes were no different.
“Right come on” she followed you in getting off the bed and grabbing her phone as the two of you were already running late. “If we’re not there soon we’ll miss all the fun.” A part of you wanted to ask what was fun about a bunch of gross sweaty teenagers getting drunk and rubbing up on each other on a dance floor.
You’d much rather just spend the evening in her bedroom watching cheesy 80’s slasher movies and eating popcorn. But you could tell Sienna was looking forward to it, seeing it as an opportunity to blow off some steam, and held your tongue. The things you did for love.
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The floor under your feet vibrated with music as the two of you tried to weave your way through the crowd to where Allie and Brooke were. You, thankfully, saw no sign of Brooke’s boyfriend (small mercies). Finally reaching the two of them, you all got a chance to admire each other’s outfits.
Neither of their costumes were as well-crafted (or as hot) as Sienna’s but both looked cute, passable for Halloween. Allie thought the glitter in your fake blood added a nice touch.
“What are you? A gay Dracula?” Brooke snorted, taking another swig of whatever was in her cup. Without knowing any better, and going by her facial expression, it looked like she was drinking straight up gasoline. At her best friend’s remark Sienna tried not to roll her eyes.
“Leave them alone, I think they look great.”
Brooke gave her a look.
“What?”
The blonde smirked, simply shaking her head as she looked around. “Nothing.” The slightly awkward moment was broken when the song changed to a favourite and Allie pulled all of you to the middle of the dance floor. A thing you had yet to mention to them was that you didn’t dance, not well at least. The idea of embarrassing yourself in front of Sienna made you want to dig a hole in the ground to crawl into.
“Come on” Sienna goaded you. Suddenly it seemed like the entire room faded away as she grabbed you by the hips and made you dance with her. Allie and Brooke and everyone else suddenly didn’t exist. The strobe lights on the ceiling made the glitter paint on Sienna’s face sparkle, her eyes equally so.
It felt like looking into a galaxy. Your heart was about to jump into your throat.
Perhaps she thought you looked silly almost frozen in the middle of the dancefloor as she started to laugh, head tilted back like an amused goddess. After a little bit of encouragement, and after the fear of looking like a socially awkward freak in front of the other girl took over, you started to dance with her. Properly this time.
A part of you didn’t want to just let go, you were hyperaware of the people all around the two of you. That was the way it had always been for you, so focused on if others were looking at you, and if they were, what they were thinking.
Surely Sienna’s carefreeness had started to rub off on you, as right then you were so tired of caring what others thought, so tired of feeling a knot in your stomach.
Everyone except Brooke and Allie seemed too drunk to even notice anything. Why did it even matter?
The two friends were near but kept their distance, almost as if they wanted to watch you and Sienna rather than dance themselves.
“Do you want a drink?” Sienna’s voice cut over the loud bass. Maybe liquid courage really was a thing. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak at that moment in time. The brunette simply grabbed your hand, goading you to spin her around a final time before she whisked off towards one of the refreshment tables; a pair of angel wings the only thing you could spot of her in the crowded room.
A total of about five seconds passed before someone had grabbed your arm, turning you around so you could face them. It was Allie, who was sporting a grin like the Cheshire cat. Immediately you felt defensive, the look Brooke was giving you too increasing it tenfold.
“What?” you frowned, slightly backing away as you wrestled out of Allie’s grip. She didn’t say anything herself, instead looking at Brooke to voice their joint thoughts – that was how it usually went.
The blonde took a sip of her vodka and tonic through a straw as she took a quick glance to where you assumed Sienna was. “She looks hot in her costume, doesn’t she?”
Arms crossed tightly over your chest, a picture of insecurity, you shot back: “Sorry?” It wasn’t even jealousy that caused the reaction, you were just overwhelmed with everything that was happening.
“Sienna looks hot in her costume, doesn’t she?” Brooke repeated, voice dripping with patronisation. Sometimes it felt like she thought your brain processed things twice as slow as the average persons. Currently it was as you were being to suspect what they were implying.
Trying to control your tone and keep your reaction impartial, you shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so, it’s pretty cool.”
Allie giggled. “You guess so? Please, me and Brooke have been watching you stare at her all night.”
Shit, okay, the suspicion had been right. Both of them had caught onto exactly how you felt. Fear was like a punch to your stomach, making you feel a little nauseous. “Please don’t say anything” was the only sentence you could come up with.
The two girls’ eyes widened, realising they had finally just got conformation on the thing they were only carelessly teasing you about. In reality, they had no more than an inkling towards how you really felt about Sienna. Brooke then laughed. “Shit, dude, I only like kinda suspected it but wow we were right!”
The seconds passed by like an eternity as the tension in the atmosphere could’ve been cut with a knife.
You could only breathe a sigh of relief when Allie reassured you: “I won’t say anything to her I promise,” then sending a very stern look to the definitely tipsy blonde next to her, “neither of us will.” She punctuated the word ‘neither’ particularly harsh – both of you knew gossip was as crucial to Brooke’s survival as oxygen was.
As if reading your minds, the young woman in question put her hands up almost in surrender. “Yes, yes fine, I won’t tell her anything.” Her expression shifted. “However, I’m not going to lie and say if you continue the way you are that she’s never gonna put the pieces together. That is if she hasn’t already.” Brooke slightly nudged you on the arm, trying to drive her point home as gently as possible.
Were you really that obvious?
Before you could ask her to elaborate on how your very intense crush on Miles County’s resident Valkyrie warrior was obvious or defend your honour (and the semblance of pride you had left), Sienna glided up next to you in a flurry of bronze armour and gorgeous hair.
Pressing a red solo cup into your hand, she raised an eyebrow as she looked around at the three of you standing static in amongst the moving crowd.
“What’s up guys?”
Allie, Brooke, and you all equally detested the fact sometimes that your friend was so able to read the room. Sienna’s emotional intelligence was normally something that set off butterflies in your stomach, but currently it made you want to throw your drink all over someone, Brooke seemed the most appealing option currently and make a dash to the nearest exit.
“We’re just talking about who we’ve seen here tonight so far” the lie came quickly and smoothly from Allie’s lips, leading you to internally note that she might have been less innocent than you gave her credit for.
You and Brooke nodded enthusiastically, as if it didn’t make the whole scene look even more weird. The two of you were like water and oil, when you got along something was usually up. Simply brushing it off as you guys not wanting to divulge something to her, Sienna took a swig of her drink and changed the subject.
“Where’s the boyfriend?” she asked Brooke. The grimace on her face indicated she disliked the guy as much as you and Allie did.
The blonde shrugged with a roll of her eyes. “Probably dancing up on some bimbo somewhere, I don’t know, I don’t keep him on a leash.”
Allie snorted. “You should.”
You and Sienna tried not to laugh, shooting each other a look as Brooke visibly got pissed off. “Yeah whatever.” Without even sending a glance to the rest of you she walked away – clearly the comment had struck a nerve, and she wanted to find Jeff to make sure he wasn’t actually dancing with someone else.
Allie watched her go with an expression a mix of guilt and irritation. “She can never just be pleasant.”
“Duh, it’s Brooke” Sienna laughed, once again shooting you a look. This time you didn’t know what it meant, it seemed she was sneaking glances at you just for the sake of it now. “Maybe you should go check on her? She was drinking quite a lot.” There, that was it, what made Sienna special. Despite your friend being a bitch to you all moments ago, the brunette still had her best interests in mind.
Allie bit her lip and you could tell internally she was battling between being petty and putting that aside to be a good friend. The other side won out, as it usually did where you guys were concerned. “Fine, I’ll go find her.”
At first glance it seemed that Brooke couldn’t have gone far, but Allie’s small form soon was swallowed by the ever-growing crowd.
“You, okay?” Sienna asked you as you looked around the room. She knew you weren’t the biggest fan of large crowds, or people in general rather.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Taking a deep breath you finally took initiative for once and extended your free hand. Your friend didn’t need to ask what you wanted, and grabbed it, leading you both to a less crowded area of the dance floor.
One drink turned into two and soon the both of you were tipsy, constantly bumping into each other as you danced. Sienna didn’t seem to care, she looked as if she was having a really good time. That realisation sent warmth straight down to your toes, the fact she found pleasure in your company was a miracle in your opinion.
The time you spent dancing together felt like hours as you grew increasingly tired, but you were slowly starting to sober up. Sienna seemed to be sobering up too. Soon she was grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the crowd, and down a deserted hallway that was much further into the building than everyone else was. She double checked no one was around before levelling you with a serious expression.
“I kinda need some advice.”
Instantly you were on high alert, worried that something had gone wrong throughout the evening. So instead of exposing yourself as the anxious freak you were, you tried to act irritated.
“What about? Aren’t we supposed to be having fun right now?” You weren’t completely lying; the middle of a party wasn’t exactly the best opportunity to pull someone aside for what seemed like a serious talk. But Sienna looked as if something was troubling her, and you didn’t want to push her away.
“No, no we are, I am I promise. But I need to ask you something.”
Had you done something wrong? A million scenarios ran through your mind, most of them ending with you heartbroken and without her in your life anymore. Maybe if you acted more annoyed, she wouldn’t be able to see how scared you were about what she was going to ask.
“Ugh fine but make it quick I wanna get another drink.” The last thing you wanted in the world was more alcohol, but you needed to make it seem believable.
You had rarely seen Sienna so nervous. “Umm let’s say hypothetically someone is here, and I really like them.” It felt like a fist had taken a hold of your heart and was squeezing so hard you couldn’t breathe, but she continued talking. “And I’m pretty sure they like me too, and I really want to kiss them, but I don’t know how to go about it.”
Oh, you should’ve known. How could someone like her ever feel anything for someone like you?
“What?”
Immediately she looked guilty, perhaps she had realised from the surely heartbroken look on your face that your affections regarding her were more than just friendly. “Look it’s fine we don’t have to talk about it, we can just go get more drinks- “, she tried to backtrack, but you knew if she didn’t explain fully, you’d be (even more of) a mess for the entire night.
“No, its fine I’m just…surprised that’s all… who is it? if I can ask?”
This was going to hurt. Was it Daniel, the artsy kid who she always joked around with in history class? Or maybe Davonte, one of the guys you knew she had grown up with. Truthfully the options were endless, Sienna was the type of person that you just couldn’t dislike. It didn’t help that she was stunningly beautiful on top of that.
What she said next wasn’t particularly weird but wasn’t what you had expected. Usually, friends would be all about telling each other who they liked, she seemed hesitant to divulge that particular piece of information. Didn’t she trust you? “Oh um, would your advice be different depending on the person?”
“…Probably.” You knew the only true advice you wanted to give to her on the topic of kissing someone else was: please don’t. But the bitter truth overcame you that you two weren’t together. She saw you as a friend and nothing more. You had no right to control Sienna’s life that way.
“Okay what about just in general?”
Shrugging, you tried to give the most impartial advice you could muster up. Inside though all you wanted to do was drive home and go to bed – you could wallow in self-pity tomorrow. You just hoped she wouldn’t kiss this guy in front of you.
“Well, um, I don’t know… I guess just ask them if they’re drunk, because consent is important, and if they’re not and they seem into you just go for it you know.”
“Right. Okay.” Sienna took a deep breath and bit her lip. The silence between you began to grow strange, why was she acting so weird? You were about to question why she was acting so off before she blurted out: “Are you drunk?”
Confusion washed over you, you assumed both of you were basically sober now – neither of you were lightweights. And also, you practically had to be as you were supposed to be the one driving you and her home. “No, not really, I’ve kinda sobered up basically. Why are- “
Suddenly her lips were on yours.
Oh.
Your teeth nearly bumped together with the force of it as she crowded you against the wall, before gaining composure and pulling away. The air felt warmer somehow as you both caught your breath. Then you moved forward, and that time were the one to initiate the kiss, a lot more softly. Her lips were tacky from her lipstick and your lip gloss, but you didn’t care.
She tasted like mint, the type of mint flavour you’d expect from chewing gum. It was odd that you could probably guess now that she used spearmint toothpaste.
When you both pulled away again, she finally spoke. “You’re such a dumbass for thinking I wanted to kiss someone else you know, my feelings for you weren’t exactly a secret.”
Her feelings for you?
“Oh.”
Sienna bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. “Did you not know?” You shook your head. “Brooke and Allie have been teasing me about it nonstop for weeks I swear.” They knew, and suddenly you felt quite stupid for believing they were as clueless as they acted.
“Assholes” you could only laugh. You were once again cut off when Sienna grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into for a deeper kiss. Clearly, she had been holding this back for a while and you would have been lying if you said it didn’t make you feel weak in the knees to have her be so rough with you.
The way you were being pressed against the wall would most likely leave you with a bruised spine later, but you couldn’t feel anything in that moment except for Sienna’s warm hands moving under your shirt to feel your bare skin, and her tongue eager and skilled against your own.
The sensation was almost dizzying as she moved away from your lips to kiss down your jaw, leaving a trail of lipstick and fake blood across your face. You honestly didn’t care if anyone could see the both of you, and if you looked ridiculous covered in the proof of your current make out session.
For once in your life, you didn’t care about playing it safe, doing what seemed like the most socially acceptable option – all you were focused on was how it felt.
Sienna’s breath was warm against you as she took a moment to try and compose herself, before failing to and losing it completely as she began to bite and suck bruises down your neck.
Maybe she should’ve gone as the vampire instead as you were sure those marks would stay for a good couple of weeks. But it made you hot to think that days from now you could have a physical reminder of what was currently happening. Proof that this wasn’t just another particularly adventurous wet dream involving your newest yet closest friend.
Sienna had always seemed so gentle in every way, but now she was gripping your hips so hard it started to hurt. Shit, she really did have a different side to her. It made another bolt of heat go straight between your legs. Your underwear was already soaked and none of this was helping.
Pulling away she said: “Can I touch you?” and the question made your brain short circuit for a moment. You had no idea she had even wanted to kiss you until moments ago, and now she was basically saying she wanted you that way. If in any other situation or with any other person, you probably would’ve told your friend that this was moving way too fast – but oddly with Sienna, it just felt right.
Insecurities weren’t a foreign concept to you, quite the opposite actually, but the area was pretty dark and you trusted her enough to go further.
So, despite your heart basically beating out of your chest, you nodded. “Yeah.”
“You sure?” her eyebrow was raised, clearly not pegging you as the type who was down for doing anything affectionate let alone intimate basically in public. There wasn’t anyone around, and probably wouldn’t be for a good while, but there was always the risk of getting caught. You suspected Sienna found it exciting, whereas you felt a little paranoid but were going along with it anyway because she was clearly really into it.
And if, God forbid, someone was going to walk past or spot you guys, they wouldn’t see much. You were firmly set on keeping most, if not all, of your clothes on, even if you were in Sienna’s bedroom you would probably consider that option too.
“Sienna please, just, yeah.”
Clearly that was good enough of an answer for her as her hands were sliding up slowly under your shirt. “What about here?” she asked, meaning your chest.
Consent was the most important thing, and you found it sweet she was so adamant on making sure you were comfortable, but if she didn’t touch you there or even lower soon you thought you’d genuinely explode from pent up tension.
Nodding, you pushed yourself forward and let out a sigh as her hands finally met your breasts. Surprisingly, her hands weren’t cold, and it was satisfying to feel her one of the places you needed it most. You were still wearing a bra, but it didn’t even matter if you had kept your shirt on or not as Sienna was reaching around behind you to unhook your bra with one hand anyway.
It was a little awkward to get it fully off and out of your shirt but once you had Sienna was all too ready to feel your bare tits. You tried not to gasp as she squeezed them softly, before pinching one of your nipples and laughing when you squirmed (very much not out of discomfort, but something else).
“Are you sensitive?” she teased, laughing as you tried to send her your best imitation of an annoyed look. “Can I use my mouth?”
“Please just…” the request was too embarrassing to ask out loud, but you could see that Sienna liked watching you squirm. She wasn’t going to budge until you admitted what you wanted. “Yes, please.” You were repeating yourself now, too much of a mess to really consider how to word anything.
She unbuttoned your shirt just enough to get access to your breasts and you immediately shivered as the rush of cold air that hit your chest. “You’re going to be the death of me I swear” she laughed as she leant down as low as possible to take one of your nipples into her mouth.
“Shit” the curse was out of your mouth before you could stop it. Sienna’s mouth was so warm and felt so good already. When it came down to the actual business of physically getting you off, you knew you wouldn’t last long. Even her just playing with your tits had you feeling like putty in her hands.
The girl let out a moan as she stopped sucking to kiss all over your chest and neck, nipping you here and there with her teeth to make you shudder. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it any longer, she stood up fully and asked if she could unzip your suit slacks.
“Fuck, okay” you tried to catch your breath, air coming out in puffs as you tried to steady yourself.
The effort proved futile as she moved forward and kissed you with an open mouth yet again, pulling at your bottom lip periodically with her teeth to drive you just that little more insane. Damn, she really did like biting huh? You made a note of that for future purposes, although the “future” in question was most likely less than hours away.
Sienna’s hands moved quickly at your belt, unlooping it before pulling it off and throwing it carelessly on the ground. Next was the zip of your slacks and the top button, once opened she slid her hand swiftly down into the front of your suit trousers. No time to waste, you supposed, someone could walk past any minute.
Besides, her urgency was incredibly sexy. It was like she needed you as much as she wanted you. At first, she began to touch you over your underwear, marvelling at how wet you were.
“Shit, you’re so wet, all of this is because of me?”
“Yeah” your voice was shaky. The understatement of the century.
She groaned as if your words had physically done something to her, and you swallowed hard. “Jesus I can’t believe we’ve waited until now to do this; I could’ve had you like this for me so long ago” she sounded frustrated. You wanted to admit that you shared the same sentiment, that ever since you had first saw her you had wanted to kiss her until the both of you had passed out from lack of oxygen.
You were going to agree, say ‘me too’ or even just kiss her again, but suddenly her fingers were putting pressure right on your clit. It felt just as good through your underwear due to the friction and just how worked up you already were.
She seemed to be observing your face as she added more pressure and then took it away again over and over, starting to rub little circles slowly.
“You like that?” Sienna moaned, then she needily sighed as you pushed off the wall slightly to push your hips further towards her. “Hang on baby” she kissed you and moved her hand away, making you groan into the kiss a little annoyed she was such a tease.
The frustration didn’t last long as this time she was moving her hand back into the front of your slacks, but also inside your panties this time too. Her face was now buried into your neck, kissing, and licking at the bruised skin there, so you could feel when she gasped as she was met with the feeling of your bare wet pussy against her fingers.
“Holy fuck” Sienna sounded almost winded as she pulled her mouth away from your throat, like she was just as worked up from this teasing as you were. “Can I put them inside?” she asked.
“Yes.” and suddenly her index finger was pushing inside you, eager and warm walls practically sucking her in. Your whole body felt electric, and you moaned as she added another digit alongside her index finger – her middle finger this time, stretching and filling you perfectly.
There was a theory that artists tended to be more dexterous with their fingers, and you were starting to believe this was true as the brunette easily found your g spot. Kissing you hard to muffle the sound of your moans, she pressed her fingers up against it again and again. Her thumb moved up to your clit and began to rub circles and in all honesty, you thought the noise you were making (even when muffled) would attract the attention of the rest of the party rooms away.
Sienna’s entire hand was soaked now, some of your arousal dripping down her wrist. The noises being produced were so obscene that you’d feel shameful if you weren’t currently on cloud nine. You were so close, hands gripping onto the sides of her arms as you needed to hold onto something to stop yourself from shaking so much.
It was also a good thing she had you pressed so harshly against the wall as now your knees were Jello. She could tell from how your cunt was tightening around her fingers that you were close to cumming and, to her credit, thought she had teased you enough – so doubled down on her efforts.
The tension inside of you finally snapped and you came with a muffled half moan, half scream as you absolutely drenched her fingers (shit, you had no idea you could even cum that much). Sienna kept on kissing you, taking her thumb off your clit but still keeping her fingers moving inside of you as to not overstimulate you too much as you rode out your orgasm.
She broke the kiss, and you gasped for breath, both from lack of sufficient air and how overwhelmed you were with pleasure. The aftershocks made you clench a little around her fingers every few moments and she watched in fascination as your chest rose and fell, face so warm your flush could be seen in the dark.
Finally catching your breath and regaining (most of) your composure, you felt as Sienna finally pulled her fingers out from inside you, already making you feel a little empty.
She, instead of wiping her hand on your suit pants or her own leg, instructed you: “Open your mouth.” It wasn’t a question. There was no please. You knew you could refuse anytime you wanted.
Immediately doing as she said, your stomach fluttered at the dangerous edge to her voice. You were met with the taste of your own cum as you sucked her index and middle finger into your mouth eagerly, wanting to prove yourself. Prove yourself as what exactly, you didn’t know. But you were beginning to learn that whatever pleased her, pleased you.
“Good girl” Sienna praised without seemingly really thinking about it, and your hands clenched at her biceps, almost accidentally biting down on her fingers with how hard your body physically reacted at that with something. The dark-haired girl could judge from your reaction that you had definitely took the compliment well. “Oh? You like when I call you that?”
She took her fingers out of your mouth and let out a breath of amusement as you couldn’t meet her gaze. “I expect you to look at me when I’m speaking to you.” Well shit. A hint of intimidation mixed in with your arousal as you let go of her arms and tried to meet her eyes with your own.
“Sorry” you murmured. You had no idea why you were even apologising, but something about Sienna’s words had unbalanced you. In a good way though.
After a moment she backed off of you, making sure you weren’t going to collapse due to how weak your limbs felt now.
“Can you-“ she paused for a moment to take a deep breath, “can you get on your knees for me baby?” She was looking up at you with pupils so blown her eyes were practically black and you felt the sudden urge to have your mouth on her somewhere. Maybe her mouth; it was sparkly, no doubt from all the glittery fake blood that resided around yours. It made you want to giggle, until what she had just asked you registered.
Holy fuck. Was this really happening? Did she mean what you thought she meant?
“Of course you don’t have to- “, the makeup artist was already backtracking, paranoid she had suggested something which made you uncomfortable. You shook your head a little too enthusiastically.
“No, no, i-it’s fine… I want to.” You reassured, moving the two of you so that your positions were now flipped, you crowding her against the wall this time. It was strange though, as even though currently you were acting as the more “dominant one”, you were hanging off of her every word. Like she was the one who was meant to be calling the shots.
Sienna’s head tilted down as she watched you get on your knees in front of her. Her facial expression was one of pure surprise, with a hint of arousal. She looked as powerful in that moment as you believed her to be, a winged warrior whom your heart was in the hands of. But in that moment, she was also just your friend: courageous, and smart and funny.
You wanted to give her the world, but that was currently impossible, so you supposed this would have to do.
“Can I touch you?” the question was shaky as you looked up at her. It was weird to see her from this angle, so used to looking down at her slightly due to the height difference being more so in your favour.
There was no hesitation. “Please.”
So, with trembling hands, you ran a palm up her thigh, marvelling how soft her skin was. Some people were a boob person, some were an ass person, you preferred thighs. And you wanted Sienna’s wrapped around your head as soon as physically possible.
The brunette obviously agreed that the anticipation had gotten too much, as she was then taking off the bottom part of her costume carefully as well as the undershorts she had worn under it. You had (very reluctantly) stopped Sienna when she had reached her underwear and was about to take those off too, wanting to do that yourself.
With her legs slightly spread you could see that her wetness had soaked through her panties. Trying to not bite your lip so hard it bled, you took them off and helped her step out of them carefully.
The sight you were met with had you internally scrabbling to remain composed. In between Sienna’s legs was a triangle of dark trimmed hair, and when she spread her thighs apart you were hit with the realisation of just how wet she was. The arousal was dripping down her inner thighs and making your mouth water.
You looked up at her for a signal to go ahead, and once you had received one you kissed your way up her thigh before grabbing her leg and resting her left foot on your left shoulder. Marvelling at her spread open you could feel from her body language that she was a little nervous. The feeling was mutual, so you tried to ease the tension a little bit.
“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this” you giggled. Jesus, socially awkward much? Sienna Shaw had you between her legs with no panties on and you were giggling like a loser. The thought did nothing to dispel the fluttering feeling in your stomach, it was as if the weight of her foot on your shoulder was the only thing keeping you from floating off the ground.
The brunette let out a huff of laughter, leaning back until her head hit the wall, rather in disbelief herself. “I can’t believe this is happening to begin with.” Your facial expression must’ve turned into something a little less light-hearted as she quickly rectified her statement. “Not that I’m not loving this, you look really cute right now.”
Heat simultaneously rose up to your face and down between your legs at the compliment.
“Seriously, you’re being so good for me”. One of her hands ran through your hair and then moved down to caress your face, you leaned into her touch.
Although technically this was just a hookup between 2 good friends at a Halloween party, the moment felt special. You had no idea why she had feelings for you of all people, but the way she was looking at you right then made you believe that she was genuinely telling the truth. That you were the one she wanted to be with, the one she wanted to do this with.
You leaned forward impossibly closer to her, face just mere inches away from what laid in between her legs. Looking up at her, you wanted to make sure it was okay before you finally got what you had wanted for what felt like forever.
“Go ahead baby”.
The permission she gave to you was the final thing to shatter your composure entirely, you gripped the back of her thighs and finally tasted her. Moaning as you buried your face without any shame into her pussy, you heard as she gasped, most likely from the eagerness of which your tongue was exploring her cunt.
“Jesus Christ” Sienna swore as you licked one long stripe from her entrance right up to her clit, repeating this until she was a trembling mess. Her façade was slowly cracking as you felt her get more desperate to cum, the dominant persona she had shown earlier melting away slightly. In all honesty you didn’t care about the dynamic between the two of you right now, you just wanted her to cum all over your face.
The shorter girl’s blunt nails dug into your scalp as she grabbed your hair harder to grind against your face, deciding the pressure and pace you were going at (which was admittedly rather to tease than anything) wasn’t enough.
The taste of her plus the fact she was practically fucking your face made you moan so loud you almost felt embarrassed. The idea of her using you like this was too much to handle, and shifting a little on your knees you discovered you were wet again already.
You were only almost embarrassed at your own noises because they were clearly sending vibrations straight up to the brunette’s clit and making her let out a string of curses. Her arousal had drenched the bottom half of your face and was dripping down your chin, you wished this could last forever. You would gladly spend the rest of eternity doing this with her if it was possible.
“Fuck that feels so good baby” Sienna tried to say more, before the words trailed off into a groan. The only thing stopping you from moving a hand between your own legs was the fact that you were more worried about holding her up. Sienna’s legs were shaking with pleasure, and it was hitting some sweet egotistical spot in your chest.
Her breathing was getting faster and more ragged as she leant against the wall, clearly on the edge. It made you want to both slow down and speed up at the same time – you wanted to make this last as long as possible. For all you knew, tomorrow it would be like nothing had happened, like you two were just close girl friends. Like you didn't now know what sorts of sounds she made when she’s being eaten out.
But Sienna’s hands were tightening in your hair, and you needed to know more than anything how she sounded like when she came. What her cum tasted like. The uncomfortable ache in your jaw was immediately forgotten as you doubled down your efforts. She tasted absolutely amazing and you knew you’d never forget doing this, could never forget doing this.
She sounded so pretty coming apart above you, panting and moaning as you abused her clit with your tongue.
As the both of you were already pent up, within a few more moments she was coming with a loud gasp, pressing herself against your face as close as physically possible as if she was scared you were going to move away. The reality was that you were more likely to just stay there and never leave. The noises she made were hopefully unheard by anyone else, but you, you were sure to hear them in many wet dreams to come.
Is this what heaven was like? Was she actually some sort of ethereal being? More wetness flooded your mouth, and you were thankful that your feelings for her were so obvious, as otherwise she might not have dragged you here under the guise of needing ‘friendly advice.’
Soon the loud gasps had quietened into barely concealed whimpers, and you were holding yourself back from kissing your way up her inner thigh to do it all over again.
Sienna was trying to catch her breath coming down from an admittedly very intense orgasm, and her grip on your hair was a lot gentler as she stroked your face. “Holy shit.”
You seconded that sentiment, feeling almost dizzy with both satisfaction at making her cum and need for relief again yourself. The ache between your legs was becoming unbearable again, but the current position you were in made you hold off on relieving it so soon.
For a moment, it was quiet except for her quiet breathing and the much louder sound of your racing heart. The two of you could also hear the faint music from the party happening somewhere off in the distance.
“Are you good?” the brunette checked up on you. It made you want to laugh and cry at once – good? You had just acted out your biggest fantasy with someone who you were borderline in love with. Good didn’t cover it.
“Y-yeah.”
Sienna stroked your hair, silently glad that she hadn’t pushed any boundaries with you. It made your heart swell to feel her being so gentle with you, showing she could be as sweet as she could be rough. The perfect balance. You managed to gather enough strength to get up off of your knees and on your feet again to kiss her.
The other girl’s arms wrapped around your neck as she pulled you close, the two of you needing a minute to take in what had just happened.
You realised both of you were still partially undressed and pulled away from the kiss to button your shirt back up and grab the discarded part of her costume as well as her underwear and undershorts. “You should probably uh,” you gestured to her naked lower half, secretly appreciating the sight but more paranoid than anything that some stranger was going to come past and get an eyeful of her ass or more.
Sienna giggled a little at the expression of pure anxiety on your face, thinking that sometimes you were prone to worrying over nothing. There had been no one where the two of you were the entire night. “Calm down, I’ll put my clothes back on” she teased you light-heartedly as she took her underwear and undershorts from you. “Wanna help me put them back on?”.
With all the sex stuff you had forgotten she was almost as much of a dork as you were. Either that or a really big flirt. Probably both.
You ignored the fact you still were incredibly pent up and let her grab your shoulder for balance as she got dressed again. “Can we go back to your place?” you asked, handing her the Valkyrie skirt, and watching as she adjusted it around her waist.
“Oh?” Sienna shot you a look, “of course”. She gave you a peck before taking a hold of the knot of your cape and tightening it, somewhere down the line it had loosened and was close to falling off. “Are you okay to drive?”. Both of you had been sober for quite awhile now, and you trusted that you were fine to get you both to her house safely. You told her you were going to be okay behind a wheel.
The thought of being with her in the privacy of her own bedroom sounded like something to look forward to right now.
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As soon as Sienna’s bedroom door slammed behind the two of you, she was pushing you towards the bed, neither of you even bothering to turn on the lights so the room wouldn’t be encased in darkness. Jonathan was out with his friends at some party, the same with Sienna’s  mom, meaning the two of you very thankfully had the house to yourselves.
You both collapsed onto her bed in a tangle of limbs, your lips working their way down her neck. Taking charge seemed far away for a brief moment to her as you climbed on top of the Valkyrie warrior, before she remembered how deliciously pathetic you had sounded moaning into her.
Without even thinking, Sienna pushed herself up off the bed and against you, hooking her legs around your back and flipping you two over so now she was the one on top.
You let out a noise of surprise as you looked up at her. “Shit, okay, not complaining about this”.
“Of course you’re not complaining you loser” she laughed, not really meaning the insult. Even if you were a loser, maybe she liked that.
When you grabbed her hips, Sienna responded by grinding down into you, making your breath hitch. Her face showed a mix of concentration and arousal as she tried to take off her wings, shoulder piece and breast plate as carefully and as quickly as possible – sure the costume had taken months to create, but she also really wanted to be inside you right then.
It took a moment, and you having to actually sit up and help her, but finally she was naked from the waist up and you were rewarded with the sight of her bare chest.
Her breasts were perfect, as you had expected them to be, even if they hadn’t been you still would’ve wanted them in your mouth as much as you wanted them right now. The brunette’s hair was framing her face perfectly as she looked down at you, the lamp light illuminating the space around her almost creating the impression that she was glowing.
Grabbing her by the hips and pulling her towards you, the warrior shifted in your lap as you teased one of her nipples using your mouth.
“Fuck” she swore, grabbing the back of your hair when you moved one of your hands away from her hip to fondle her left breast a lot less gentle than you were being with your mouth. Sienna couldn’t believe this was happening still, she had known about your crush on her for a while now but was surprised either of you had the metaphorical balls to do something about it.
Oh, but was she glad though, now pulling you away from her chest and pushing you forcefully down on the bed. “Enough of this teasing bullshit” she practically growled, ripping your shirt open so hard that some of the buttons popped off.
Frankly you didn’t care, the whole costume was bought on a budget and besides, you were too turned on to think of any of the practicalities.
Once your shirt was open, she shimmed down you to take off your belt again, this time for good, and throw it across the room to land somewhere on her bedroom floor. Next came your cape, which would’ve made you giggle in any other situation. Sienna pulled down your slacks with an urgency that, coming from her, was previously unbeknownst to you.
She unhooked your bra and threw it to the side to join the other clothes that were on the floor. “Take these off baby” she was gesturing to your suit trousers.
You kicked them off, leaving them in a bunch at the end of her bed. The half-naked girl bent down to kiss you again as she worked on taking the rest of her costume off, now both of you were basically only in underwear (you still in your shirt somehow – neither of you seemed to care, more concerned with the feeling of her hips pressed against yours).
“You’re so beautiful” you couldn’t help but comment, running a hand down her arm and noticing the gold shimmer of her glitter paint in the dark. Sienna’s face flushed but you didn’t notice, a fact she was grateful of.
The two of you both didn’t feel like you needed to say anything else to each other for a while, simply kissing and enjoying the sensation of her bare chest against yours. The brunette’s breathing was getting heavier though and soon she was reaching to pull down and take off the last article of clothing she had on.
She asked you: “Can we try something?”.
That question made you as curious as it did aroused. “Umm okay”.
Sienna stroked your thigh comfortingly, worried you were anxious for no good reason. “I can do all the work just-” she sighed as she climbed off you for a moment to take your underwear off too, “lift your leg up and put it over my shoulder baby”. Feeling a mix of apprehensive and overwhelmed you did as she said – your stomach fluttering as you noticed how strong her hands were.
Then you realised what she was doing, no stranger yourself to porn. And could only moan as she pushed her hips forward and down, so that her cunt met yours.
“Does this feel good for you?” she asked through pants, clearly enjoying it herself. She felt so wet, and you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from swearing when your clits rubbed together. It was too much and not enough at the same time – this was going to be the death of you.
You could only reply to her question with a string of curses and moans as she experimented with different angles, trying to get the most direct contact with your pussy as possible. Some led to more contact than others but all felt as equally good, and the noises that were being made caused your face to feel hot.
Sienna seemed to go harder when you tried to speak but found you couldn’t form any words, it was becoming clear to you that she liked when you were a desperate mess.
“You look so cute right now” she said, knowing that neither of you were going to last long. “God I love you so much” leaning down, the dark-haired girl kissed you, still rocking her hips against yours as much as she could in the position.
Even though you weren’t getting as much pressure on your clit before now, you still opened your mouth into the kiss – noticing how close you were. She had just said she loved you.
Sienna was pressing her face into your neck now, overwhelmed, her breathing growing more ragged by the minute. “We can’t go back from this you know. After this you’re mine” she sounded close to crying, “I can’t just be your friend, I can’t”.
You didn’t know what to say, so you kissed her again and held her until you both came hard. It was the truth though, the both of you couldn’t be friends anymore after what had happened.
You tried to catch your breath, body still trembling, and told her: “I love you too”.
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On the Monday two days later, the weather was warm and got increasingly more unbearable as you pulled your hoodie up, hoping to whatever God was listening that the concealer on your neck wouldn’t rub off anytime soon. Sienna had rocked up to class in a similar fashion but seemed to pull it off better than you did. Neither of you had approached each other in public for fear of embarrassing yourselves.
Pretences were tiring to keep, and after the weekend that had passed you wouldn’t be able to look the brunette in the eye anymore without blushing.
You would call her your friend as you hadn’t necessarily put a label on your relationship yet; however, it was a lot more complicated than that now, and you had never been so happy about complications before. Allie and Brooke had texted you a few times over the weekend talking about aimless stuff, and mainly just making sure that you were alive after disappearing on Friday.
But you couldn’t tell if they had realised what had gone on – going off of what Sienna had told you about them the night of the party you guessed it was only a matter of time before it would be confirmed to them.
Actually, the idea wasn’t as daunting to you as it would have been mere days ago though. It felt like something in you had unravelled, like a rubber band had snapped; you were no longer as fearful of being judged anymore. Maybe it was just because you were so happy, for the past three days now you had woken up in a good mood and it was all down to one person.
Sienna, even when she had just been your friend, made your biggest troubles seem like mere inconveniences when she was around. Her presence was so calming and self-assured. As long as she was with you, nothing could ever hurt you. The girl had said that to you before and you had believed it wholeheartedly. You still did.
And now you two were making the metaphorical (and in this case kind of literal) walk of shame to the lunch table you guys shared with Allie and Brooke every weekday. Both of them seemed a little distracted, but upon realising you and Sienna’s presence they then seemed all too alert. Brooke actually put her phone away. Was this the Twilight Zone or something?
“So” the blonde coughed as you sat down next to Allie. Sienna taking the place next to Brooke. Keeping a distance between you and your crush right then was a good idea as you were sure they were about to borderline interrogate you guys. “What have you guys got for lunch?” Brooke asked, stabbing some salad with her fork.
What a pleasant surprise, for once in her life Brooke Valdeon wasn’t being a complete bitch.
Allie seemed to be following suit, silently asking Sienna to open a bottle of soda for her as she couldn’t do it herself. Neither of them seemed to care that you and Sienna had definitely hooked up and were probably more than friends. The only thing that they said that even showed an inclination of their knowledge was when Allie complained about now being the only single one amongst you all.
“Seriously guys, there’s so many single people out there – surely one of them’s for me, why haven’t I found them yet?”
Brooke rolled her eyes; “Cause you say cringe shit like that.” You all laughed and even Allie had to crack a smile at that, knowing it was pretty much true.
After lunch break Sienna had offered to walk you to class, just the two of you, leaving a surprisingly supportive Allie and Brooke in your wake. She had her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans and looked incredibly nervous. You had literally seen her entirely naked not even three days ago, and she was still acting like you guys were at the end of a first date or something, you would’ve poked fun at her if it wasn’t so cute.
“Would you wanna come round mine tonight? We could watch a movie, I just renewed my Shudder subscription” she offered quietly.
You tried not to smile, “Like a date?”
She looked down at her converse, nothing like the girl you had been with on Friday. “Yeah, I mean, if you want it to be…”
Instead of giving Sienna a verbal response you checked the hallway was empty before grabbing her by her hoodie strings to pull her close and kiss her. You pulled away after a few moments, happy you could now do that without risking making a complete fool of yourself. Watching you as you turned around and opened the door to your next class, Sienna looked surprised. Surely that was a good enough answer to her question.
“So, is that a yes?!” she shouted after you, flustered.
“Duh, Sienna! Of course it’s a yes!”
a/n: and then you guys had a super cute date/movie night and watched the Texas chainsaw massacre and lived happily ever after with no scary borderline immortal clown ruining your lives ::))
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