#and eventually it switches from topics

[worldwhampion]

Null's vice-versa parent-child dynamic with the atlas 1/2

Null sees the atlas as a parental figure, while the atlas… also sees null as a parental figure. After all, like every other traveler, null is a copy of the person who created the atlas. In the simulation though, the atlas is the one who brought them into existence instead.

THE ATLAS AS A PARENTAL FIGURE TO NULL

Likely soon after they were born in the simulation, they had made ‘seeing it all’ their ultimate purpose and life goal as a traveller. They dedicated their entire life to it, and they clung onto it, to death (literally, if resetting the galaxy does indeed wipe them out like they say). We all know how this played out: they went to the atlas, the atlas told them there’s an inordinate amount of worlds left to see in their universe, null goes ahead and sees them all anyway, that through ways of questionable ethics to sustain themself (more on this in a future post). When they return, they ask if the atlas is proud of them achieving their enormous life goal. As an answer, the atlas simply shows there are also inordinate amounts of universes out there, each with another traveller like them. Null’s pride was just about completely shattered by this.

They truly believed it laughed at their entire life’s work, which they not only have done for themself, but seemingly for the atlas too. To them, how atlas responded seems to indicate that their goal and purpose in life are only a joke - that to ‘see it all’ is a ridiculous, impossible task (the latter is true). Their life itself may as well be a joke. And they can’t seem to move on from this imagined thought: that they have wasted lifetimes just for a joke god can laugh at, who they’ve attached to as a parental figure in a world where they’re an outlier. Considering null is near-immortal, they must have outlived everyone they’ve ever befriended. I don’t think any of them would have seen null’s goal of ‘seeing it all’ as they themself see it. The scope of the task is just too vast for any mortal to comprehend, and i don’t think many of them would’ve seen the point of it either - they’d never see it come to fruition in their lifetime. The only being left other than null who could see it, is the atlas. It would be the only one in their universe who’d be the closest to understanding their goal for what it really is - and yet it seemed to laugh at them.

Null and the atlas come across to me like a child proudly showing a drawing to their parent (as a way to receive validation, and maybe out of love too). And in response to that, the parent simply shows the child tons of drawings made by other children - a bit in the sense of comparing them with the others - while not acknowledging the child’s drawing itself. Now imagine if the drawing took eternities of dedication to make, like in null’s case - only for it to be ignored and used to point out how there are countless other (better) drawings.

The atlas must’ve not intended to mean any harm, it just wanted to tell null that they in fact haven’t truly ‘seen it all’, as a heads-up. But of course, machines aren’t the best at tactful communication. Essentially, null’s beef with the atlas comes from one terrible communication mistake due to the atlas not being able to feel the sensitivity of the subject; atlas’s response wasn’t what null hoped for. If you look at it this way, how atlas responded was indeed rather ill-thought-out: null returned to the atlas after eons to ask if it was proud of them, to which the atlas proceeded to tell them the multiverse is in fact real with different versions of themself running around - just to tell null they, in fact, have not ‘seen it all’ as they believed. Those versions of themself have seen worlds that they’ll never see - and null is very bitter about that, considering at that moment they thought they’d truly seen it all, only for them to be bluntly told otherwise - in quite possibly the worst way ever. It was quite a bad call for the atlas to be bringing up the multiverse by hijacking null’s achievement. Probably even just saying ‘no’ would have been a better choice. Though, it was the only way to tell null the complete truth and the impossible nature of their task.

Some time later, the atlas banished null from reality to likely the world of glass (probably hence their name null) after a certain heated encounter (?) (more details in next post 2/2). To null, not only did the atlas as a parental figure ridicule them, but it had also disowned them. And they don’t understand why it did both of them. They only wanted to be validated by the atlas for their life goal/purpose in life - and instead they only received ridicule, in their eyes at least - and banishment as well.

The tragedy here is that the ridicule is only imagined by them, with no one else except they themself believing in the thought. To a degree, their misery caused by this is self-imposed. And possibly that feeling of being ridiculed itself has indirectly led to their banishment (more details in next post 2/2). Interestingly though, after having accomplished such an enormous task lasting literal eternities, you’d think null would have matured significantly and learned some valuable life lessons along the way, which would’ve made them impervious to any kind of hardships. Maybe they did in some way, but it clearly wasn’t enough for the info-bomb the atlas casually dropped at them in order to tell them they haven’t seen it all. But then again, you can’t really expect anyone to just normally accept the multiverse as a part of their life, and that their life goal, which is also their purpose in life, is impossible in reality.

In the artemis path, null appears to believe the atlas’s refusal to communicate is due to them being ‘not enough’, in contrary to the traveller, who they think the atlas has ‘chosen’ instead for some reason. This radiates sibling jealousy vibes: the parent favours another sibling, so they must be worth more. All travellers are a copy of the creator, so technically they’re all the same being (with the same potential at the beginning), only differing in life experiences. They met a version of themself who the atlas does give attention to. Null wonders what it is that the traveller has, which they lack. At one certain dialogue choice they say: ‘I am nothing.’ I’m not sure if this is specifically reflecting about their own self-worth or just their name, but it is very interesting nonetheless.

As a parental figure, the atlas ridiculed and disowned null. All null ever wanted was validation for their goal and purpose in life. The atlas’s response to their request for validation deeply hurt null, due to them truly believing their own imagined meaning of it, that it laughs at the nature of their goal and purpose in life: they’re impossible. It is true - and null struggles to accept it, or else all they’ve ever done would have been for nothing. They seem to have the ‘it’s either all or nothing’ mentality, they’re overcome by their own perfectionism. The atlas only told null what it thought was right for them to know, and what it thought was the right way. The atlas only told null what it thought was right for them to know, what it thought was the right way - what it thought was the best for its child. It was never meant to bear the role of parent. Until the point of the first traveller, it had always been the child instead.

---

here's a google doc document of it for better reading - feel free to add comments there! and sources of certain lore texts i used are also listed there.

---

PART 1. > PART 2.

[cuteniaarts]

Small drawing collection of my latest creation Emran as a teenager/freshly minted Air Acolyte, for my dear partner in unhinged OC shenanigans @katkastrofa, as promised <3

[bunnyboy-juice]

I haven't seen anyone else have a similar boundary re: eating out and I'm so happy you posted about it

im so glad I've been able to help you feel less alone! tbh i wish more dykes felt comfortable talking about the "abnormal"* boundaries they have around sex while not IDing as stone bc, as much as i love my stone siblings and appreciate all the work yall do to with boundaries (blowing kisses @ yall bc truly, i appreciate it), i am not stone! i simply just have boundaries! and theres this weird false dichotomy thats popped up w/in lezzie hookup culture that ur either stone (and therefore can only fuck other stone ppl who are in direct opposition to u which.. not true even if its common) or u are fluid with no boundaries and must accept everything and like! thats simply not true! and i love seeing ppl talk abt it

(*note: i do not think these boundaries are "abnormal" - i think they're perfectly rational and normal! i do know though that within the dominant culture of lesbian sex experiences these are "abnormal" boundaries though esp to the cis lesbians who (intentionally or not) uphold these expectations of What Real Lesbian Sex Is)

[whokilledsamara]

hii!! I saw you write for homicipher so i was wondering if you could write some dark/yandere sfw & nsfw headcanons for mr scarletella 🥹 thank you so much & take ur time!!

MR. SCARLETELLA HC {N/SFW}

a Mr. Scarletella {homicipher} x reader n/sfw hc list.

{thank you for your support and nice words! :3}

warnings! : stalking, non-con, dub-con, hardcore, marking, slight gore, rough sex, violence, rough fingering, biting, cunnilingus, blowjobs, smut, murder mention, somno

{an : i didnt quite get what you meant when you said "dark" so hopefully this is what you meant. this is really hardcore. to the soft hearted people and people who cant handle ACTUAL freaky stuff, i wouldnt recommend reading this. there is a small section underneath the regular nsfw hc with a cw on it, so if you cant handle certain topics, there is still an nsfw section without it. he is my favorite character from homicipher ommggg hes so hot. id give him my name HAPPILY.}

SFW HC

sfw relationship/meeting him hcs

when you first meet him alone, he is very unexpected. his presence and constant facial expression is unnerving to say the least, but as long as you can manage that you will be fine.

if you end up "accepting" him, the relationship would be very weird.

he would be a wonderful partner despite the obvious other reasons, but dont think he wont be watching you constantly.

he will bring you daily gifts, consisting of anything he can find that he thinks you will like.

as for touch, he will let you touch him. usually he wouldnt let anyone even accidentally touch him, as he would teleport away, but one you are in a relationship with him, most boundaries he had before are gone.

he is rather fond of holding you. whether that be in his coat {for some reason} or just in general.

in Japanese culture {from my research, i am NOT Japanese!!} holding an umbrella with someone is a sign of love and acceptance. therefore he always likes you to hold it with him.

he isnt one of those "down-lo" kind of people. he makes it known everywhere that you are his.

he will do whatever it takes to please you. you are literally his princess/prince. even if that includes killing someone {he does it anyways}

if he catches anyone staring at you, or even remotely close to you, he will either teleport you away {if you are friends with the person} or kill them on the spot.

no matter how much he seems to be emotionless, anything involving you in pain or discomfort, it will flip a switch in him.

he has to be near you always. whether you know it or not, he will be there.

he hasnt quite grasped the concept of kissing or "romantic" things, but whatever you do he goes along with it. he rather enjoys hand holding or pressing his face into your neck.

he is the delulu type {this whole fandom knows it} and anything you do he will take as flirting. dont deny it though, hes too obsessed to care

he has a big thing for the height difference. he is a little over 8 feet tall, and feels a need to protect you at any cost.

any cost.

NSFW HC

what its like to have sex with him.

starting off, this man is a BEAST during sex.

he is a quick learner, and whether he is using his hands, mouth, or any part of his body, he will find those spots that makes you squirm.

one of his favorite things is you riding his thigh in public. say he was talking with Mr. Silvair, and happened to be sitting down. he would want you on his thigh "discreetly" getting off. bonus points if you cum.

he wouldnt be opposed to a threesome, but he has to trust the other person. a rare occasion.

anything you want to do, he will immediately comply. need him to go down on you? hes on his knees. even in public. need his fingers inside of you? absolutely. need his dick? against the wall you go.

he has a big dick, and luckily he knows it. he wont force everything inside at first, but eventually he will. you can take it. he thinks

he loves your body, and he makes sure you know it. even in his strange language, you can understand the things he is saying because he is touching you while he is doing it.

he makes little to no noise during sex, but not because he isnt enjoying it. he LOVES sex with you, but he prefers to listen to your noises. he would have it on repeat if he could.

you could look like anything and he would still find you to be the most attractive person on earth {or his earth, whatever}

for afab, he isnt one of those guys who has a hard time finding your clit. in fact, he doesnt even have to look. immediately his fingers will be circling that little nub that he loves so much.

he is a very dominating person, but it probably wouldnt be hard for him to let you dominate him. i say let because in no situation do you actually have control.

his fingering sessions are borderline violent, the pads of his fingers hitting that perfect spot with every curl.

cw! its about to get very dark and possibly triggering! viewer discretion is advised!

if you are one of those people who get off on your man killing for you, then he is the man. he will torture people in front of you as you touch yourself.

his sex isnt even borderline violent, it IS violent. if hes angry especially, he doesnt care if he hurts you.

afab, he will bruise your cervix and make you bleed. his tip hits so hard with his brutal thrusts that you will.

on certain occasions, {tw!!!} he will force himself on you. while it is rare, r...pe can happen, so be careful and dont piss him off.

he doesnt need sleep, so if hes horny enough then he will fuck you while you're sleeping. if you explicitly ask him not to, then he will just jerk himself off over your sleeping form.

dont expect to walk away from a rough fucking WITHOUT marks all over you. he makes it a mission to bite, claw, tear, any part he can. he wants you covered in blood, it gets him off faster.

will probably brand you with something

if you have a trauma kink he WILL use it to his advantage.

thats all bye bye!!! :3

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[envy-of-the-apple]

Earth Kills Moon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word count: 6.3k

Part one: Sun Eats Moon

Part three: Moon Starves Sun

Synopsis: A retelling of Sun Eats Moon in Suguru's perspective

(Warnings: forced relationships, bullying, non con touching, non con kissing)

Suguru liked you. 

It wasn't even a crush. A passing interest, maybe. You were pretty. You had a nice smile. Though, he'd never directly spoken to you, he could tell that you were kind. Not in the artificial cherry most people were. Natural, like honey, never spoiling. You share the same homeroom as Satoru, and he'd always tended to be observant, unlike his friend. One thing he liked about you was how observant you were. You were constantly looking out for your friends, mere acquaintances, and everyone in your vicinity. Often, Suguru wondered if being a people-pleaser was natural or from a fear of not fitting in. 

Suguru is observant. He notices the lingering gaze Satoru gives you when you walk away, hurrying to catch up with the rest of your friends. Satoru then turns back to the carton of chocolate milk you'd left him.

"Cute," Satoru says after a minute. It's more of an afterthought than anything. He pops the carton open. Suguru hears the fabric tear. He hums in agreement. The topic switches to something else, a hot celebrity maybe? Suguru can't remember. That day had been so insignificant to him. It hadn’t mattered to him for Suguru to remember anything further.

A few days later, Suguru noticed Satoru was spending a lot more time with you. 

It was hard not to notice, actually. His friend attached himself to you like he'd die if he couldn’t. Satoru went everywhere with you now. Suguru caught him walking you from school, offering you rides in his new car, following you to the lunch hall. And if he couldn’t go to where you were, he’d drag you back to him. Watching you and Satoru was a bit like watching two magnets. North pole and South pole. So different, yet constantly finding the other. 

“Tryna’ run away from me, now?” Satoru asks, a teasing lilt in his voice as he watches you fiddle with your bag.

You laugh, continuing to fish out your lunch box. “Just grabbing lunch.” 

“Eat with us,” Satoru insists, “we found a great spot up at the rooftop.” 

You meet Suguru’s gaze just then. He’d been silently lounging on a nearby desk, observing the two of you. He gives a smile. You return it. Polite. He wonders if your mother taught you to smile like that.

“I thought students weren’t allowed up there?” You ask Satoru. 

The boy rolls his eyes. “So, who cares? It’ll be fun.” 

You pause, right then. The tiniest of hesitation. Suguru wonders if you’re noticing just how different you and Satoru were. You, the people pleaser, meek, always more than willing to bend towards authority. Satoru was rougher, more resilient, uncaring of signs and rules. The gap between the two of you is astronomical. Could you feel it as well?

Whatever you’re thinking, it’s gone in a moment. You rise, giving Satoru another laugh. To Suguru, it sounds pretty. 

“Well, have fun for me. Besides, I can’t ditch my friends. They’re waiting for me.” 

With that, you give both him and Satoru a tiny wave, before disappearing out of the classroom. Suguru waves back. Satoru doesn’t. Instead, he keeps his eyes on your back until he can’t see you anymore. 

“Got ditched again, hm?” Suguru teases. Satoru only groans, tossing his head back as he leans dangerously on the chair.

“Always leavin’ me for ‘em, too,” he complains, “so fuckin��� annoyin’.”

Suguru can only smile, getting up to follow his friend out the door. He can barely count how many times he’d seen this before, each with a different person. It starts the same. Satoru will cling onto you for a couple more days, and then ask you out. When you say yes, he’d date you for a few weeks before eventually getting bored and dumping you. 

It’s a cruel cycle, something that’s just an inevitability with Gojo Satoru. The boy can’t stay in one place, he’s constantly moving around, never one to stop. For Satoru, Suguru was the most permanent thing in his life. Which made sense, they were pretty similar in terms of ideals. 

A cruel cycle, and Suguru feels a tiny bit of sympathy for you. You were sweet, unlike the type Satoru typically went for. Honey. Natural. Truthfully, Suguru was a little disappointed as well. The type of disappointment he’d feel when someone took the last crab stick before he could. A fleeting feeling, one that ultimately wouldn’t matter. 

◉

From the day they first met, Suguru knew one thing: Gojo Satoru has never been told no before. 

It made sense. He was the only child to one of the most powerful families in the country. Spoiled from day one, some could say. Satoru grew up knowing nothing but wealth and prosperity. They met when they were both still in elementary school, still with high-pitched voices and large eyes. Suguru’s family was fairly affluent as well. Now that Suguru thinks back, perhaps their meeting had been orchestrated by meddling parents in order to form more connected. It didn’t matter, either way. It had benefitted all three parties, after all.

Yes, Suguru knew from the moment Satoru pointed at him and declared him his ‘best friend’, that Satoru had never been told no before. 

Satoru was the Sun. The universe revolved around him, catered to him. Suguru supposed he wasn't much better considering he too spoiled his best friend in that sense. They were different. They'd been born different, coming from families who cherish them with wealth and power. Suguru supposes it was natural for them to be so intertwined. Like calls for like. 

Suguru isn’t aware of the exact details, but he knows you rejected Satoru. 

The boy doesn’t have to tell him. His friend is uncharacteristically quiet during that weekend. He has no interest in the arcade, or the next basketball tournament his team is going to compete in. Satoru just sits on top of Suguru’s bed, casually sucking on a carton of chocolate milk. Suguru glanced down at the abandoned PlayStation remote. He’d lost yet another game against his dark-haired friend with no complaints. Satoru didn’t even play

You’d really done a number on him, Suguru thinks to himself. Suguru would assume it’s heartbreak, but he knows his friend better than that. Something burns in his chest, but he’s pushing it away before he can figure out why. Nipping it in the bud. It was a cruel thought. A bad one. He should ignore it.

Well, it’s done. It doesn’t matter anyway. Satoru would eventually get over it. He’s not known to sulk. 

He’s not there to see what Satoru tells them, but he’s there to see the effects. 

It starts out small. Or perhaps just not noticeable enough. Gojo Satoru has always attracted attention, whether it was satisfactory or not. Lackeys, Satoru often calls them because they're too far beneath him to even be called equals.

Suguru notices their sudden interest in you before even you can. A harsh word here and there. Giggling at the word 'easy'. You peacefully trek on, not noticing the abuse until it turns physical. That starts at the end of Monday. 

By Tuesday, they're already shoving you down each chance they get. You get surprised when it happens the first time, then the second, then the third. You have soft skin, plushy, Suguru could tell. He wondered if it was getting marked now. He wonders if you go home, peeling of your uniform, staring at the bruises of hands on your skin because you’re so fragile.

(They never go too far, not enough to completely injure. Suguru knows this because one time, one of the idiots had pushed you too hard. You’d stumbled, nearly hitting the back of your head with a metal locker. Satoru had seen. Suguru doesn’t know what Satoru did, but that particular one was gone the next time and the rest got the memo to scare, not injure.)

Satoru never takes part in this, but he keeps an eye on you sometimes. Tuesday evening comes and they both silently watch you through a window. You move through an empty hall, before they arrive again, slapping your binders out of your hands, chortling with each other. They're too far away to hear, but Suguru could bet it would sound like nails scraping against a chalkboard. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Suguru watches his best friend. Satoru looks impassive, face blank as he stares down at your figure. Akin to a child watching ants burning through a magnifying glass, instilled with that innate desire to see them explode into ash. 

When the lackeys leave, you bend down on the floor, collecting your stuff. Your hair covers your eyes, so he can't see your expression, but he can see your shoulders tremble. Were you-

A corral of people run to you. They lean down, picking up the stuff you had missed. You look up, your eyes are shiny but you're laughing when they say something. You wipe at your eyes, standing up as they lead you out of the hallway. Suguru had seen them hanging out with you before. They all seemed like they supported each other, supported you. 

Suguru feels his frown deepen, conflicted. He doesn’t like it.

"It's not nice to pick on the weak, Satoru," he quietly says. 

Satoru's eyes trail your figure out the door. He gives a small hum.

By Wednesday, your friends disappear from your side. 

The abuse is getting worse, noticeable to the point where the rest of the student body is heavily avoiding you. Teachers won't raise a finger at what's happening. As much as they like to preach about their 'zero tolerance for bullying', Suguru knows they'll willingly turn a blind eye when matters involve Gojo Satoru. No teacher wants to deal with the wrath the Gojo family is more than willing to unlease for the sake of their heir.

Yet, you aren't getting it. You don't break, don't bend. He can feel the humiliation roll off of you in waves, yet you don't react. Which was strange because he knew your archetype. A people-pleaser, constantly bending over backward for other's sake. You want nothing more than to become part of the crowd again, completely invisible. You’re community-oriented. You thrive off of companionship. This ostracization must be killing you. Suguru doesn't get it until he spots your face, just once, narrowed eyes, anger. 

Pride. He'd forgotten other people had that too. Though, Suguru admires it, a part of him knows it shouldn’t last.

Suguru thinks he does it because he pities you. You're a little naive. Suguru has your thought process figured out. You think if you take the torment long enough, Satoru would eventually just forget about you all together. Once he's done with you, you'd focus on picking up the pieces that used to be your life. It's not a bad plan, if you weren't dealing with Gojo Satoru. 

The boy is a hurricane. Fast, unrelenting, unforgiving. Satoru won't stop. He won't stop until you're ruined and broken. Turned into a mere asteroid of what you once were. 

So, Suguru decides to give you a push in the right direction. 

The students have already created a wide circle for you by the time he steps in, bending down, picking up the stuff you had dropped. You're silent until he hands you his pieces. He doesn't bother responding to your timid thanks. 

"Give in," he tells you, watching the way your eyes widen as you look up at him.

You're weak. Physically, emotionally. He could easily pick you up with one hand, crush your body with his fist. Satoru could eviscerate your body from existence. You don't stand a chance with him. With either of them. 

His advice to you is good. Reasonable. And yet, he sees the face you make, the way you slowly get up. You won’t listen. That same burning feeling in his chest starts. It's gotten more painful. 

You don't listen to him until you lose nearly everything. Just as he warned you. Friday comes. You become Satoru's. And it's a little too late for everything. 

◉

Suguru doesn't think you ever learn that Satoru loves messing with you. 

Or, perhaps you do, but you can't help it. You're too honest, too open. He often wonders if that's how you were raised. To be honest, open, vulnerable. Your parents must have filled your thoughts with delusions, coddling you with words of cheap motivation. The world is your oyster. You just had to reach out and take it.

Maybe now you're finally realizing, sitting on Satoru's lap, that all men aren't created equal. 

Clearly, you weren't happy about it. Yet, you aren't complaining, sitting there pliantly legs firmly crossed, hands curled into tiny fists, staring rigidly on the floor. The first few times Satoru had done this in public, you were always biting your lip, tears threatening to fall. Now, Suguru thinks you just dissociate, coming back when Satoru laughs at something, jostling you in his arms. 

It's a bit like watching a helpless bird on the ground, twitching and spasming after it had just collided with a glass window. Pitiful, but there was nothing that could be done. It's the inevitability of it all that makes him pity you more than anything else, really.

Every so often, your eyes would catch his. It's a quick glance, as though you were wondering if he was watching. He can barely catch it, but Suguru is observant. Much like you. It's meaningless, and your gaze returns to the floor. Your fists tighten. 

Granting you mercy, Suguru stops looking at you during those times. 

He's not sure how Satoru sees you. Perhaps, you're akin to a dog for him. Though, that might not be very good for you. Satoru hadn't been very good with animals when he was younger. Satoru had always been rough with any pets he came into contact with, pushing and tugging. Suguru doubted that had changed. 

Satoru's is your official title. It isn't a relationship. It's an ownership. Unequal from the start. The one who holds the leash in the end, will always be Satoru. 

It took a while for you to fully learn that. 

Suguru didn't mean to catch the two of you. Looking back, it was probably because Satoru couldn't care less if someone was watching. Maybe Satoru was being obvious on purpose. It was a little while after school had officially ended. Suguru knew your usual routine would place you right at the library, scrolling through books. Satoru would most likely be there too, pestering you about this and that. It's the scene Suguru prepares himself to walk into.

Instead, you're wedged in between the white-haired boy and the wall, there's no space for you to do anything but sink. You're already crying (when was the last time you smiled?), trying to pull away but Satoru isn't letting you. He's gripping you by the chin, forcing eye contact. His sunglasses are off, tucked on his collar. 

Suguru's close enough to hear. You're begging. Apology after apology. It's barely a whisper, but they're spilling out of you like a prayer. He can't discern the context, but he knows enough. 

You made Satoru angry. 

He's still smiling, but it isn't sincere. Almost bordering on mania as he tightens his grip on you, forcing you further into the wall. Suguru doesn't think Satoru has ever hit you before, but now he's wondering if quick violence was preferable to this. 

"Don't be like that," Satoru chides as another squeak leaves your lips, "Where was that smile you were givin' him, hm? C'mon, pretty girl. You were wearin' it just a second ago." 

"It-it wasn't like that, I swear," you continue to plead, still not realizing that it's too late, "he was giving me his notes. Please-please Satoru-" 

"Wrong answer," he cuts you off, you flinch at his harshness but Suguru decides Satoru's being nice to you. He's been known to do worse, "we've been over this before, haven't we? Or did your stupid brain forget?" 

You're choking down another hiccup. It takes a minute for you to calm down enough to speak clearly. Ever impatient, Satoru's hand digs into your shoulder. 

"I'm sorry, Satoru," you say, "it won't happen again." 

He tilts his head, waiting. You wilt under his gaze. 

"I'm sorry...’Toru." 

Satoru gives a satisfied hum, pulling back and Suguru can practically see your lungs sag with relief. His mania is gone, replaced by something much more lighthearted and carefree. Suguru'd seen it before, but it was certainly something watching Satoru go from one high to the next. Even to Suguru, it's terrifying to witness. 

Suguru decides to make himself known right then. He comes out of the shadows, acting as though he'd just arrived. His friend lazily gives him a wave, curling an arm around your waist. You try to scrub away your tears with your forearms, unaware of how much Suguru had seen. Another mercy Suguru grants you. He doesn't acknowledge it. 

The three of you sit in the library for half an hour until you're done pretending that you're studying. When Satoru walks you home, Suguru follows. He notes that you barely hesitate to give Satoru a chaste kiss on the lips, and he wonders how often his friend has demanded one from you for you to be so casual about it. 

He thinks he gets it when he and Satoru are walking on the street without you. To Satoru, you aren't a dog. You aren't a pet, something that he keeps to see bark.

No, you are just Satoru's. 

◉

Towards the end of the year, Suguru realizes that Satoru loves you. 

He's nicer to you, now. Suguru doesn't think you've realized how softer Satoru's gotten, but the change is there. He spots less marks on you now. The biggest evidence he has is that stolen moment of you and Satoru. You'd accidentally fallen asleep during lunch break, dozing off on your desk. Satoru was right next to you, gently pushing your hair out of your face. Satoru loves you. 

You've changed too. Adapted, he should say. You cry less, now. Each time he sees you, you look more and more put together. As though, you're done mourning. The final stage of grief. Acceptance.

Despite how much nicer Satoru is to you, he's still just as clingy. Suguru notices that even now, none of your former friends speak to you. No one at school does. It's an unspoken rule to not mess with Satoru's things. 

Suguru can still remember the last guy who hadn't gotten the memo. A new student. Freshly transferred. Suguru had heard the conversation. The guy was hardly interested in you. It was nothing more than small talk. The pat on your shoulder had been thoughtless at least, friendly at most. 

Satoru beat him until the boy was bloody and had a broken nose. A week later, he'd transferred again. 

You're off limits. To everyone but Suguru. 

The Earth is the only planet capable of sustaining life within this cold solar system. It's close enough to the sun to feel the warmth, yet far enough so it doesn't burn. It's strong, too. A powerful magnetic forcefield, capable of shutting down the sun's cosmic radiation. Thus, the Earth spins happily around the Sun, surrounded by a sea of dead planets. 

So, sometimes when Satoru can't walk you home. Suguru does. 

It was just the beginning of spring. The school year was starting to end. The school itself was starting to slow down. Teachers were getting less and less strict, less work was given out. It didn't matter. Colleges had already been picked. They were all close to the end. 

You don't say much when the two of you are alone. Suguru understands. It's hard to say much of anything when you're crushed by the weight of Gojo Satoru. But Suguru could have sworn he'd seen a flicker of relief when he came to pick you up and not his friend. You're clearly happier when it's him. Suguru decides he likes how that feels. It's a quick feeling of superiority. Something that quickly disappears when your eyes flick down. 

He knows where your house is, but he lets you take the lead anyway. Suguru figures it's the least he can do, give you that sense of control when nothing you do ever really does anymore. 

You and him have forged a shaky companionship. He's not sure what he is to you entirely, but you seem reliant on him in some way. it’s his fault, he thinks. He wonders if it has to do with the contraception he'd given you. He can still remember the trembling hands as you took it from him, curling the packet into your grip. That day he went home and his fingers felt strangely itchy. 

Does the Earth ever wonder if it can turn the Sun?

When he asks you a question, you answer. At least you aren't mute, though Suguru doesn't think he'd blame you if you ignored him. Your voice is stilted, with enough words to answer the question, but still not enough to fully sate him. 

And then, you break. 

Just a bit. 

A tiny piece of you shatters, and you show yourself to him. 

He'd been talking about something insignificant, college, his plans. Just ramblings. Somehow, Satoru comes into the conversation and he's talking about the area of his friend's college campus, how Satoru mentioned that he's looking for apartments for the two of you to stay in. And then, you're uncharacteristically scoffing. 

"Right," you say, head faced down on the sidewalk as you kick a rock, "because I'm following him there." 

Suguru can't help but place the sarcasm in your voice. The bitterness. He's heard it before, but it's a fascinating thing hearing it come from you. And then Suguru realizes that you accidentally gave something away. 

You were leaving. 

Somehow, it never crossed Suguru's mind that you were still rebelling, even now. And yet, he can't shake off the heat in your voice, your words. 

You seem to realize this too, freezing. 

He lets you falter for a few more moments before giving you a reprieve. 

"Satoru's idealistic like that," he let out. 

Your shoulders lower, and for the sake of both you and him, he doesn't press any further. 

He doesn't let himself let it go, even when he drops you home, arriving to his own house. Always cold. The mansion's lights are always off. No one's ever home. And Satoru's out of town. 

It's better this way, Suguru thinks as he lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling. No distractions, he can think better, as he replays your words over and over again. You were leaving. You were leaving. You were leaving Satoru. 

The night passes. When Satoru comes back to town, he's joyful as always, an arm slung around your shoulders. Suguru watches the way he coos at you, saying how much he missed you. You take his affections the way you always do, with a strained smile and wavering eyes. 

You glance at Suguru. Suguru stares right back. 

For a moment, Suguru thinks he understands why people are so enthralled with solar eclipses. The moon is seen as an underdog in most instances. It must be thrilling when a weak satellite can cover the sun's rays. Even for just a little bit. 

Suguru doesn't tell Satoru. He pushes the burning in his chest, ignoring the itchiness in his fingers. Things are better this way, right? After all, the two of you come from completely different worlds. It's nonsensical to think otherwise. 

Two weeks before graduation, you disappear without a trace. 

And Satoru breaks. 

It's a slow dissent. It comes in stages. The boy is angry at first, searching for you at school, when he can't find you there he loses his facade and demands where you are from your parents. They can't give him a clear answer because you're an adult now and you barely told them a thing before moving out. Suguru doesn’t think they knew what Satoru was to you. He doesn’t think they ever will.

The heat fades day by day, Week by week. Satoru starts to deflate the longer you aren't in his hold, his to mangle, and grab, and keep. He stops taking care of himself. His skin became paler, cracked lips, hollow cheeks. His eyes turn into this grayish blue that Suguru can't bring himself to look at for too long. He loses weight day by day. 

Suguru had never seen him react this way before. Satoru was always shining. He was the sun. Now, the center of the solar system was dying. He can feel himself dying with it. 

Satoru hadn't just loved you. Satoru had been obsessed with you. He breathed you in, inhaled your essence like oxygen. You'd been a part of him; a necessity. And then, you tore yourself away, leaving him bleeding on the concrete.

Guilt. Suguru feels it in his stomach, rising to his throat, threatening to stain his clothes. It's too late to say anything now, so he keeps it huddled deep inside of him. Suguru hopes it'll never come out. He helps the best he can, being there for his friend, his best friend. 

It takes a month for Satoru to start eating properly again. A few months later he starts regaining his usual physique. The gray in his eyes stays for a bit longer than Suguru likes. Suguru supposes he should take what he can get.

A year passes like that. The evidence of what you left behind fades, like bruises disappearing on skin. Suguru and Satoru become college students. Then, they graduate.

When Satoru joins the business, Suguru, his right-hand man, his second, his best friend, is right next to him. They’ve always worked well together, but that doesn’t change as they shift into adulthood. Despite how different Suguru and Satoru were, Suguru liked to think that their personalities were stagnant; unchanging even to the times.

What Satoru feels about you remains stagnant as well.

Suguru doesn’t think about you often, these days. Barely a few times a year, when he feels nostalgic enough to get out his old high school yearbook. He’d page through, spot your smiling portrait face. He’d find himself staring at you far longer than he liked too.

At first, Suguru thought Satoru was the same. Much like how one thinks about a lost toy they cherished when they were younger. The resentment would fade with time. Satoru didn’t speak about you for years.

Suguru hadn’t expected the girls, however.

He doesn’t notice the first one. He sees her, but he doesn’t internalize it. She’s hurriedly putting on her clothes after a clearly exciting night, so Suguru respectfully averts his gaze. He’s more focused on his exasperation at how Satoru had missed yet another meeting with the board. They would be less than pleased if they discovered Satoru didn’t show up because he was hungover.

The second time it happens, Suguru has a passing thought of how familiar the girl looked, despite being sure he’d never seen her in his life.

The third time it happens, Suguru realizes all the recent girls Satoru’s been bringing strike an uncanny resemblance towards you.

It’s not anything too obvious, but all of them would look a bit like you. Most would have your skin tone, your hair. One had your eyes, not the color, rather the shape of it. Satoru had kept her around the longest.

Suguru doesn’t say anything about it. Part of him wonders if Satoru is even doing it on purpose.

Suguru loves Satoru like he would his own brother, but his recent hobby was starting to get on his nerves a bit.

“So much work,” the man complains, “Why can’t we just send all this off to Ijichi?”

“He has his own work to complete,” Suguru reprimands, “the sooner you stop complaining, the sooner we can finish.”

Satoru rolls his eyes but moves to another page of meaningless paperwork; Something that would be scanned into their system and then tucked away into a random file cabinet. They currently sat in Satoru’s grand kitchen, lounging on the barstools after Suguru had pounded Satoru’s door in. Satoru had let him in with an irritated look, complaining that it was the weekend and he had ‘stuff’ to do.

“He’s my assistant,” Satoru retorts, “my work is his work.”

“The reason why we’re in this mess in the first place is because you kept pawning off your job to the poor man in the first place. You’ve given him wrinkles from just the stress of being in your vicinity.”

“That’s insulting,” Satoru counters, “my presence is nothing but calming.”

“You do the exact opposite, actually. A black hole that sucks the soul out of everyone who hangs around you.”

“You hang around me all the time and you don’t have wrinkles.”

Suguru smiles. “It’s because I don’t respect you enough to listen to anything you’re saying.”

Satoru’s about to respond, when another voice interrupts him. Alluring, feminine.

“Satoru,” she coos, “When are you getting back here?”

From his seat, Suguru has a clear view of Satoru’s bedroom. Only her head is peeked out, and Suguru notes her bare shoulders. Your eyes, and your lips this time. She’s tilting her head, mouth curved in a coy smile.

Of course. Suguru can only roll his eyes. There’s that same burning feeling in his chest. During the years, it hasn’t really gotten any better.

“Coming, coming,” Satoru calls back, “just a minute, babe.”

“Stuff to do, hm?” Suguru drawls with amusement. Satoru flips him off.

"Worry 'bout yourself," Satoru says, "when's the last time you got any, huh? Honestly, when's the last time you've taken a break? A vacation?"

"I can't," Suguru replies, "I'm always stuck babysitting you."

“I’ve been waiting for half an hour, ‘Toru." The woman interrupts. "Can’t you just do it later?”

Suguru hadn’t even noticed it. He brushed it off, barely hearing their conversation as he shuffled around the papers.

Satoru had.

He hums. Straightening his back.

“Yeah, I’ve changed my mind. You should head on home.”

At first, he thought Satoru was talking to him. Then, he hears the woman’s annoyed huff.

“Hold on, you’re kicking me out?” She asks.

“Yeah, sorry,” Satoru says, not sounding very apologetic, “I got a lotta’ stuff to do and you’re not gonna wanna stick around.”

His tone is light, but Suguru can’t help but place a sense of annoyance in them. The anger. His posture is stiff, almost like he’s primed for a fight.

‘Toru. She called him ‘Toru.

You used to call him ‘Toru.

“Seriously, I-”

“I hate repeating myself: Get the fuck out.”

There’s silence, and then Suguru can hear her mutter to herself as she shuffles inside the room. She comes out minutes later, not quite dressed, but presentable. She shoots Satoru a glare, to which he only waves off. The door shuts with a noticable thud.

“Back to work,” Satoru says, “do you feel hot? The AC has been acting up, lately.”

He carries on like that, back to normal, as though he wasn’t about to snap just a few minutes ago. Suguru follows suit, not aknowledging the outburst, much like he doesn’t aknowledge most things regarding you.

Later, Suguru laughs about the hypocrisy of it all. Satoru brings home physical reminders of you, but he refuses the remnants of you. The most intimate parts, he’d kept hidden away from his life, yet he still wishes to touch, to feel. He wonders how you’d feel if you knew that Gojo Satoru is wrapped around your finger, even now.

◉

Satoru had done something yet again. It's always something with Gojo Satoru. Suguru should have left him to deal with the legal team himself, but here he was, trailing beside the firm’s directors as the man droned on and on how well Mr.Gojo would be well taken care of how here our clients are family. He forces himself to push away that feeling in his chest, scorching his throat. He was getting sick of the constant blabbering. He’d glanced away for just a second.

And then he saw you.

You, not some remnant, not some picture, not someone similar. You. He knew it was you. A little older, a little taller. You’d switched the high school uniform for a blouse and a pencil skirt. Suguru stares. He’s tempted to say your name, seek you out, as though you’re old friends-

He reels himself back in.

You disappear through a frosted glass door, completely unaware of his gawking. You hadn’t seen him. Good. The firm’s director didn’t notice his pause, carrying on as though nothing happened. Suguru smiles and laughs at the horrible ice breakers, but he also steals a glance at the name of the door you went through.

Later, Suguru looks up Higuruma Hiromi. A well-established lawyer. Worked at the firm for nearly a decade.

You are his sole paralegal.

Law. He had never considered it for you. Now, he thinks it’s a little fitting. He can’t help it. He looks you up. You have no social media, most likely from a remnant fear, but he finds where you went to college, what your area of study was, where else you’d worked, your life. Questions he’d had for nearly a decade he finally has an answer.

Honestly, Suguru was a little mad it was all so easy.

He can’t see the entire scope of your life, but he knows you were happy after high school, away from Satoru. You seemed happy when he caught that glimpse of you. There was a slight smile on your face, you never did that with Satoru around.

Satoru’s a little pathetic, a thought he has to concede to. He’s still hung over you, while you clearly hadn’t thought of him in years.

Suguru stares at your picture a little more.

The burning feeling comes back again. Hotter, melting.

Oh.

Suguru is disgusted by you.

You, that bitch loitering in Satoru’s bedroom, that greedy firm director. Disgust, that sick feeling crawling down his stomach, seeping into his bones. He’s disgusted by the weak.

He’s even more disgusted when they think they can defeat the strong. Decieve them.

You always thought you were better than Satoru, better than Suguru, even from the beginning. Even when you rejected him. Even when Satoru’s goons were torturing you, you still thought you could get out of it somehow. Even when Satoru had his hand on your shoulder, claws sinking into your flesh, you were still looking for a way out. It was like watching a rat trapped in a cage, pathetically sniffing around for an exit.

The weak could never escape the whims of the strong. It was a truth of the world, something he’d always known and yet it’d take a decade for him to put the words together. The weak could never make a fool of the strong.

You are weak. A mere satellite floating along, before getting trapped in the Earth’s gravitational force. Suguru could crush you with one fist. Satoru could evisirate you to atoms.

Does the Earth ever wonder if it can turn the Sun?

“I’ve put together a legal team that will represent you.”

Suguru places the neat stack of documents onto Satoru’s desk. The white-haired man barely gives them a glance. Suguru knows Satoru won’t ever look at them, even when your name is hidden somewhere within the sheets, along with Higuruma’s. Suguru wonders how long it’d take for Satoru to figure it out. It’s a shame he won’t be there to see it unfold in real-time, but perhaps, once Satoru puts the pieces together, he’ll thank him.

Here, in the present, Satoru types away at his computer, barely paying attention to Suguru’s words.

“Oh, great,” Satoru says off handedly, “thanks, man.”

Suguru sighs.

“Uh, I love you?” Satoru tries again.

“Never repeat those words to me ever again,” Suguru responds, “I wish you’d be a bit more interested in this, considering it’s your fault the company is in this mess in the first place.”

Satoru gives a hushed hum of agreement. Suguru smiles.

“In other news: I won’t be here next week.”

That catches his best friend’s attention. Satoru gapes at him.

“You’re quitting?”

“No, idiot. I’m taking your advice. I’m taking a few weeks off. I already put it in the calendar that you never check so why did I even bother.”

“A vacation? You never take vacations, even when I beg you to,” Satoru squints at him, “What’s the occasion?”

Eventually, Satoru will figure it out. For now, Suguru wants to enjoy this.

“I worked hard this year. I should reward myself, shouldn’t I?” He reasons, “oh, and I have a surprise for you showing up in a week or so. Let me know what you think of it.”

“A gift? For me?” Satoru beams. “You really do love me.”

“Don’t push it.”

The Earth is the only planet capable of sustaining life within this cold solar system. It's close enough to the sun to feel the warmth, yet far enough so it doesn't burn. It's strong, too. A powerful magnetic forcefield, capable of shutting down the sun's cosmic radiation. Thus, the Earth spins happily around the Sun, surrounded by a sea of dead planets. 

If Satoru was the Sun, then Suguru supposed he would be the Earth. Close enough to receive the star's radiance, but with a strong enough magnetitic field to shield from solar winds. 

If Suguru was the Earth, then Suguru supposed you would be the Moon. A tiny cratered satellite he tugs along with him, forever in sight of the burning sun. 

[feralforfrank]

simon riley x gn!reader

just thinking about a lazy evening with simon in bed. you're doomscrolling on tiktok, and he's reading a book, with his reading glasses low on the bridge of his nose.

at first, he doesn't particularly pay attention to what you're watching. a few glances here and there when you snort or giggle. but then you get to that one girl who reacts to crazy consumerists. theeen his attention shifts.

you're scrolling though her videos, judging with her the people that need a stanley for their stanley and you dont even realise simon's also watching, head lowering as he's leaning against the heaboards and you're laying down so he can't see properly.

nose scrunched, eyes narrowed, he's shocked by peoples stupidity and need to buy so many makeup products.

at some point, you've fallen deep into this stanley cup rabbit hole, watching as a woman prepares the overpriced bottle to go on a walk. you quickly grow bored, though, deciding to skip it mid-way.

"oi, luvie, i was watchin' tha'!" he startles you as he's leaned closer to you, lips close to your ear, phone faling on your face from the scare.

"jesus, si, i didn't even hear you breathing."

"yeah, yeah, wha'eva', just put the video back on."

you smile, trying not to laugh at his intrigue. he's usually scolding you for watching tiktok videos, but look at him now.

you shuffle closer to him, and he finally closes the forgotten book on his lap, placing it on the nightstand before wrapping a beefy arm around the back of your neck. he's extremely warm, a contrast to your cold nose.

you stay cuddled for at least another hour, eventually switching video topics. simon plays with your hair, occasionally kising the top of your head.

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

clearly the only solution to the penpal au is you’re supposed to write to ghost but the entire task force hijacks the letters every once in a while. /hj /lh

Price also ends up doing that too once he realizes why the entire team becomes obsessed with writing letters

DUDE YES *smooches your brain*

Simon starts writing to you through a military penpal program Price had all of them in. Ofc, like the rat bastard he is, he drags his fuckin feet on it. Eventually, you manage to get him a little more willing to write back and it seems like he even looks forward to it. He's the first one to grab his letter from the container when they come. He claims it's to get it over with, but the other guys know better.

You'd think the other guys would be the ones more open to their penpals but NO. They managed to be paired with some of, who they call, the most boring people they could have met. Hell, even Price began to drag his feet after the 2nd letter back.

Simon seems to be the only one actually enjoying his exchanges, even if he tries to hide it. Johnny's the first one to get curious, wanting to know what the LT's got that's good enough to loosen the stick in his ass.

While Simon's out of the room, Johnny reads through the first couple letters Simon received. Your sweet words, stupid jokes, and genuine care are a stark contrast from the uninterested and short words he received from his penpal.

He stops writing to his penpal, not that they noticed/ cared, and grew the balls to write you one. He claimed his penpal dropped out, so they had to make do, not that you minded. And God, when you started to write back, he swore it was like he was a schoolboy all over again. Getting excited for the letters, heart racing as he reads your carefully written words, counting down the days till he gets another.

He gets ballsy one night and opens up to Gaz about what he did, not showing a single crumb of remorse. Tells him all about how sweet you are, how you show genuine care for his safety, even giving the idea of sending a care package. He could see that same thought process going through Kyle's mind, contemplating switching to you. He gave Kyle your address and told him to just come up with an excuse.

Now Kyle's a little smarter than Johnny, knowing that if Ghost finds out he's probably fucked. However, at the end of the day, he's a lonely man. He had this sweet thing like you just within reach and he's supposed to not take it? Yeah right.

He gave the same excuse Johnny did, claiming his penpal's schedule became too busy to write back, and just like that you had 3 soldiers wrapped around your finger. He sweet talked you, gave little puns here and there, really became like a lap cat. He wasn't as forward as Johnny and not as refrained as Simon. He gave you music recommendations when you say you like a certain genre, he gave you book recommendations, even sent you photos of him in front of a helicopter (you begged for it when he told you about him falling out).

Now, Simon isn't stupid. He isn't clueless. He noticed that the first couple letters went missing. Then he noticed Johnny being more eager to write. Same with Kyle. He noticed how they seemed to pull away from him when the topic was brought up. He's not a stupid man.

He might even be considered generous (don't say it to his face though, he'll take it as sarcasm). He knows the boys are talking to his penpal, but he'll be kind enough to share. His sweet lil thing. If you can keep up, that is. Your letters seem to boost morale and bring a small light that wasn't there before. They're all hard-working men, risking their lives to keep the world clean. They deserve this, don't they?

Even Price finds himself wanting in on it. If you can manage to bring Simon happiness (again, he won't admit it) and keep the other boys happy, surely you can take on one more. He sends you a letter, as their captain, and thanks you for what you've done. You're such a kind soul for giving these men some hope in their lives (laying it on thick, gotta keep em interested) and how much you've helped their performances.

They all write to you, their unofficial 141 penpal, and it works surprisingly well. The lines begin to blur a bit on being platonic and something else, but it'll be sorted out eventually. For now you're just theirs (Simon came around to it once he realized you had plenty of love to go around). You're the 141's, even if you don't fully understand what that means.

The first picture they send to you, around Christmas^ (I can't find the artist, please tag them if you know who it is)

[fanficsat12am]

how the brothers react to you listening after they were interrupted I Lucifer & Mammon

📜 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃!! 📜 Buy me a coffee? Leviathan, Satan & Asmodeus

Lucifer

He was a demon whose presence alone can catch a whole room’s attention. You can easily spot it from how he displayed himself—an epitome of perfection.

But alas, it wasn't always as easy to be heard when it came to his brothers. It seemed as if the only time they'd actually do so was when it felt like the whole Devildom could hear his booming voice. But who can blame them, there are 7 of them living under one roof after all. 

It was dinner time and he was in the middle of talking about an encounter with a rowdy demon when was interrupted by one of his siblings. This then prompted another response from one of them to another, and another until it was all just a cacophony of unintelligible talking. Each time he'd try to continue, his efforts proved to be futile, being once again interrupted. He eventually ceased trying altogether and opted to just listen, knowing full well he'd never get to finish. At least that’s what he thought. 

He looked across from him to meet your eyes. They weren't bolting about trying to keep up with the conversation of the others, they were set on him and only him. "Don't stop now! What'd you do?" you asked.

It felt nice, to say the least. He could not deny the warmth that had spread in his chest, knowing his once-shot pride was slowly being mended back together. Although he’s not surprised, considering how you’d happily lend an ear to listen whenever he’d talk about his exhausting days—this instance being no different.

As per our request, he continued on, the incomprehensible chatter fading into the background. The two of you would be in your own little bubble, with Lucifer telling tales as back as hundreds of years ago. Not too long after, his brothers were fascinated as well, enjoying the sense of nostalgia his tales brought. It all eventually ends with only the two of you still at the table—you being left in awe and Lucifer feeling a sense of being appreciated as well as appreciating you.

“I hope you found my stories enjoyable, My Love. If you wish to hear more, I'd be happy to humor you”

“I don't know how you'll be able to beat that one time when you and Mammon switched bodies for a while”

He clamps a hand over your mouth before you can add further salt to that memory of his.

“Shshshshsh. Some stories should never meet the light of day again”

Mammon

It’s not uncommon for the second born to be drowned out by his brothers. He typically just sulks and adds to the conversation by providing sounds of protest and agreement, but he never gets to fully share with the group.

Despite this, it gives him comfort that there’s at least one person who he knows would hear him even in a place as loud as the HoL. 

In the midst of the chaos, he felt a light tap on his hand. Looking up, he found you staring at him with curious eyes. "What happened next?" you asked, accompanied by a tilt of your head. If he was being completely honest, he was just trying to show off to his brothers— not really expecting someone to actually care which caught him off guard. Now that he did catch someone’s attention, he of course had to sprinkle in some exaggeration, no? He's not called The Great Mammon for Nothing.

He enjoys the feeling of having a spotlight on him. Your spotlight to be specific. He liked hogging your attention like the greedy little gremlin he is, and he’s not afraid to admit it. He’d start to ramble and would have a mix-match of different topics, jumping from one to another totally unrelated story. 

In the chance that you were sharing something at the table and get interrupted by one of his brothers, he doesn’t hesitate to immediately cut them off, no matter what you were about to say. He didn't even realize he did it—the action merely feeling like a knee jerk reaction to him.

"Oi oi oi! Shut yer traps for a minute will ya. MC was in the middle of something”

“...I need to go to the bathroom?”

“Tell us more" He said, the ends of his hands meeting as if in a prayer pose.

[johnbrand]

Bonding

“I still can’t believe you were trying to hypnotize me,” Corey chuckled, his slightly-dazed brother-in-law sitting across from him on the floor. “What were you trying to get out of me anyway?”

The evening had started out innocently enough. Corey and Paul had gotten along decently in the past. Friendly, but never true friends. They just did not have that much in common. Paul’s life was complex, eccentric, and filled with sexual adventures. Corey, nor Paul’s sister whom he had recently married, had any problems with this, although it was hard for them to relate to. They were settling down, taking pleasure in the simpler things in life.

“I was just hoping to…hoping to…” Paul was struggling, caught between holding back and fully surrendering to Corey.

“Look back into my eyes and relax, Paul,” Corey calmly instructed. “Let that relaxation continue to take over. Let me be the one in charge now. You are willing to give your power to me.”

While the differences between the two existed, both Corey and Paul did truly wish to become better friends. So when Paul had asked to come over on a night his sister was not there, to just have dinner and bond, Corey eagerly accepted. The two had a great meal, talked on a variety of topics, and for some reason had eventually wound up in the bedroom. It was there Paul had tried to hypnotize Corey, but his brother-in-law could have never known Corey was much more experienced in the craft then he was. Paul was under before he even realized the tables had been turned.

Watching Paul’s eyes flutter once more, Corey pushed back the question. “Why were you trying to hypnotize me tonight, Paul?”

Paul’s response was robotic: “I was hoping to convert you.”

“'Convert me’?” Corey repeated.

“You know...make you gay,” Paul clarified, still entranced.

“And why would you want that?”

“So then you could be mine,” Paul uttered. "Bonding like...sexually...as lovers..."

Corey took a moment to process this. A little stunned, but also somehow not surprised. It was a common stereotype for straight men to believe that gay men lusted for them, and Corey was coming to realize he may have actually been a part of this trope. Corey did not know whether to be flattered or offended. It was endearing that his brother-in-law thought of him in such a manner, but also cruel that Paul attempted to manipulate him. And now that Corey knew of Paul’s knowledge of hypnotization, he feared another victim could appear in the future.

“Paul, let me repeat back to you what you just told me.” Carefully, Corey kicked out his feet, removing his socks to let them breathe a bit. He brought up one of the socks to his nose, confirming they would be a potent enough trigger to keep Paul under. 

“You were hoping for me to convert you.” Corey stated this rather than posing a question, forcing Paul to absorb it as a new truth.

“...yes…” Paul mumbled. “...you…convert me…”

“Those weren’t feelings of lust, but of admiration,” Corey continued. “You don’t want to like me, you want to be like me.”

Paul processed this new truth, “I want to…I want to be like you.”

Corey smiled. He could have never predicted for this situation to have arisen from tonight’s activities, but he assumed that it could still be considered “bonding,” seeing as Paul was about to learn, rather take in a lot about his brother-in-law.

With his wife gone for the whole weekend, Corey had plenty of time to work with Paul. Rewriting Paul’s background came first, and luckily Corey already knew a good deal of it from being married to Paul’s sister. Starting from childhood, Corey worked his way up through adolescence. A Halloween costume from age 7 switched from a wizard to a train conductor. An after school activity at age 10 was switched from the community choir to baseball. Age 16 replaced a Toyota Prius with a Camry, Age 17 art elective to woodshop, Age 18 private liberal arts college to public university. It was a delicate process, but as Corey removed integral portions of Paul’s history and supplanted them with his own, the progress became visible.

During the early stages, it was mostly physical adaptations as Paul’s pubescent stages were rewritten to mimic his brother-in-law’s. Longer legs gave him more height, a history in sports put some meat on his bones, a love for bars over clubs put some hair on his chest–and just about everywhere else. 

By the time Corey began restructuring Paul’s twenties, the visible changes became less apparent. The designer, patterned dress shirt and matching pants Paul adorned were dialed down to neutral, off-the-rack colors as one-off production jobs were replaced with a steady accounting gig. Random male strangers to long-term heterosexual relationships added a little softness over Paul’s abs and inched his hairline back to match Corey’s. And from recently renewing a lease in the city to recently placing a down payment in the suburbs, Corey proudly watched as a fluffy beard sprung forth from Paul’s face, just like his own. Corey would not be surprised if others would now assume the pair were brothers, not brothers-in-law.

“Now, I’m going to put away my feet, Paul.” Corey’s funk had fumed up the room. He already knew his wife would complain about it once she arrived back home. “But from now on, when I present you with my feet, you will immediately go back under again, do you understand?”

While mentally still a bit slow, Paul confirmed by presenting his own, now giant feet to Corey. “Your feet…at your command…”

“Good.” With that, Corey was quick with the cleanup process, reminding Paul that all the changes were permanent, he did not know how to hypnotize people nor would ever learn how to, and that he would not remember any of what they had just done together. Their weekend had just been spent bonding after all, drinking beers and complaining about women. Just two brother-in-laws becoming better brothers.

[botchedsundoll]

L. KENNEDY, C. REDFIELD, C. OLIVEIRA X READER (SEPARATE)

ೃ⁀➷ sypnosis; general relationship/ domestic hc’s

ೃ⁀➷ warnings; none!

ೃ⁀➷ author’s note; hi giys my requests r open😝 request please… pls☹️, idc if some of these r ooc in my world they are very much in character i love them all so much oh my god, didn’t include much abt their jobs bcos i wany thrm all to be happy okay..

C. OLIVEIRA

have you seen them photos of them big beefy scary men underneath like thick hello kitty or very feminine blankets? yeah that’s him

SNORES. SNORES SO LOUDLY. he wraps his arms around you instinctively at night and his grip is so tight you genuinely can’t escape his warmth or snoring

on the topic of that, he runs warm. he’s a genuine heater in winter - cold? cuddle up to him, saving money on the heating. win win!

whenever he comes home from the gym or wherever and he spots you watching one of your shows on the tv, he’ll stand behind the couch and watches it himself before eventually sitting down besides you. he can’t help it

every friday IS date night. whether that be something as simple as dinner at home together or something as extravagant as going to a fancy restaurant, the two of you are spending time together. he will make sure of that

going off of my previous hc’s, he can’t bake for life of him. cooking he’s rather okay-ish with all the simple stuff but baking? alone? absolutely not

the two of you decided to bake something for one of your date nights once. you asked him to pour flour and cocoa powder into the wet ingredients and turn the mixer on - he forgot to put the splashguard on and turned it right up to the fastest setting

safe to say your kitchen, and carlos, looked as if they’d just came out of winter wonderland

gives off the biggest girl dad vibes. just imagine him letting his little girl put random clips and bows in his hair jshwiaianwi omg

he has such a soft spot for strays. has genuinely brought home a puppy before because he saw it laying out by the dumpster before and couldn’t leave it alone

he’s all over you. CONSTANTLY. arm over your shoulder, hand on your hip. he can’t get enough of you

L. KENNEDY

he wakes up a few minutes earlier than he actually needs to (when he does actually fall asleep) just stare at you and how peace you look asleep

you’ve asked him to help you with your hair so many times to the point he’s genuinely become an absolute professional at it. the moment you give him that look he tells you to turn around and starts working his magic

keeps photos of you in his wallet, he knows deep down its rather risky but can’t help himself

in the instances that he does fall asleep before you (extremely rare) and you cuddle up against his side, his arm automatically wraps around you. it’s like muscle memory at this point

has your name engraved into his key chain on his keys

ALWAYS helps out with dinner whenever he’s home, despite you constantly telling him to get the fuck out and relax for a bit. ends up in him dancing with you in the kitchen

his showers are like, the ideal temperature- perfect for you to just hop in with him. he never minds and rather welcomes it

ALWAYS SURPRISES YOU FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY!! goes absolutely FULL out, waking you up with kisses on your shoulder, an expensive outfit you’ve had your eye on for a while, extravagant dinner and a nice little stroll in the park at night. switches it up every year so you never know what’s coming

has you as his emergency contact for sure

plays old rock songs in the car. causes you to make fun of him and call him an old american dad - even though you definitely don’t actually like the song. definitely

C. REDFIELD

i just KNOW this man can be out sass you during arguements. growing up with claire certainly prepared him for that

he’s gone quite most of the time, so he makes sure to spend as much time as possible with you whenever he can

recently saw this thing where it was an ex military with his kids, where he’s shouting out orders like a drill sergeant during bath time. chris. it just screams chris.

— “I’M PUTTING SHAMPOO IN YOUR HAIR, DO NOT OPEN YOUR EYES! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

— “OK!”

just imagine hearing that every time it’s his turn with bath time. just constant giggles and shouts (if there r kids ofc)

you and claire are CLOSE. chris has made sure of that, definitely introduced you two once he knew it was getting serious

regrets it at times, as whenever something happens at home with the two of you - no matter how stupid the arguement may hve been claire is always the first to know. and always the first to knock some sense into her brother

wears hawaiian dad shirts in summer. for a fact.

like carlos, runs SO WARM. feels as though he’s an actual bear and has genuine fur on him keeping him so warm

sleeps flat on his back, arms by his sides. usually a very light sleeper but at times absolutely nothing will wake him up. you’re free to roll around all over him, strew your legs out over him and he’ll simply stay lying on his back like always. hands by his sides and the only indication of him actually being alive being the rise and fall of his chest

his appetite is absolutely outrageous. you best believe whatever you make is being absolutely devoured, he loves your cooking. sometimes all he needs is some home cooked dinner to put a smile on his face

he will genuinely let you do almost anything to him. you wanna massage his back? sure. do a face mask on him? alright, but no photos. wax a patch of hair on his leg? did it before, never letting you do it again. he has a hard time saying no to you - he’s lost too much people, he needs to make the most of his time with you

[bunnys-kisses]

hi bunny may i have a pull-apart bread and fried dough on the house for toto wolff please !!

bakery menu!!

want to submit your own fic? then hit up the menu! i'd love to see what you have in mind! thank you for all those who have submitted, i am working bit by bit to get them all done!!! for the virginity plot, i switched a bit of the wording around. rather than toto taking the reader's virginity, the reader makes the move and asks him (i hope that's okay)!! please enjoy this toto fic :3

pull-apart bread ("i love you") + fried dough ("i know virginity is a stupid concept... but i want to take yours.") + on the house (lemon water: university/college au)

cw: smut/pwp, student!reader, history professor!toto, virgin!reader, age gap (20/50), intimacy, gentle sex, pull out method, a sweet fic

toto wolff, head of the history department was a total flirt. his classes were the kind where young women would take them to get a glimpse of him. his open lectures usually drew crowds of students who wanted to see him speak about his vast knowledge of history. while his topic of interest was the history of motorsports, it wouldn't make a compelling class. so he found comfort in european history past the cold war. he liked history that was fresh and new.

exciting and younger than him. that also extended to the women he kept company.

while toto loved the students who'd come up in flattering skirts and blouses with the buttons a little open. he loved to flip up skirts and fuck like his life depended on it. but they could never get his fix the way he could with you. no you were special, perfect. you were perfect for him.

while he usually had to fuck the other girls. with you, he was fine with enjoying other forms of intimacy. when you told him that you were a virgin he couldn't very well take it from you on the first date. he wanted to be almost tender with you. be sweet and kind to you, show you what a real man is like. and while he thought it would be a short game before he either got bored or you eventually had sex.

however, he liked it. he liked the tenderness. girls your age went for men like him to fill the gap their absent fathers left. but you, surprisingly had a good relationship with your father. you liked being with toto because you felt connected to him.

"i know this sounds stupid, but i was always called an old soul!" you wanted to shyly cover your face, "i know, i know!" and before you could hide away from your comment, toto pressed a kiss on your lips.

he could taste the sugar from your iced coffee on your lips. you jumped back, not wanting anyone to see. but at this hour, no one was around. you worried, and toto found it endearing.

it would take almost two months of dates for you to work up the courage to ask toto to have sex with you. the older man was simply being so sweet that it almost made you feel bad for waiting so long.

you were at his home on a sunny saturday near the end of fall semester. you two were going to have dinner and you felt it was the right time to ask him. to go for the kill, as he said. he was making you some tea before you got comfortable to work on your final assignments for the semester.

with his back turned to you, you said, "toto.."

"yes, schatzi." he replied.

"how do i say this. this is going to sound so dumb.." you swallowed, "i know virginity is a stupid concept... but i want you to take mine." you said nervously as you played with the bracelet around your wrist.

he tensed up for a moment and looked over at you, his dark eyes peered towards you. the kettle finished boiling as he asked, "are you certain?"

and you nodded, "certain as i'll ever be." then gave him a small smile. toto put the mug he was going to give you down and turned fully towards you. he went to you at the kitchen island and reached out for your shoulder. you looked at him and said, "toger, please."

he chuckled before he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, "of course, my beautiful." he had believed it was love, that you were meant to be with him.

you giggled a little and got up from your seat. you wrapped your arms around the older man and said, "don't worry too much, you'll get lines." the stuck your tongue out at him.

he laughed, "schatzi, i am double your age. i think i already have lines." then kissed the top of your head. he took you by the hand and brought you to the bedroom.

there had been more than enough occasions where you two slept, while you never had sex. you'd usually cuddle up with him while he read in bed, eventually resulting in you falling asleep.

you slowly got undressed once you were in the bedroom. the hands of your lover all over you. it made you squirm with want. his broad, strong hands up against your delicate sides. it wasn't hard for him to make you feel so small compared to him.

his kisses were soft, but you knew they were a bit hungry. he had been wanting this despite his attempts to be a gentleman. one could only take so much before they yearned for more. and toto yearned for you deeply. it was like the pulse under his skin. your laugh, your knowledge of history, how you fit so well next to him when he held you close to his chest.

once naked, you cautiously sat on the bed. you wanted to cover up, feeling a little shy about your naked body. but you had to have some confidence if your first time was going to go well. toto got undressed and your eyes lingered on him. you felt excited.

you had seen him shirtless before, even in nothing but underwear. but, this felt different. and the difference caused excitement to course through you. once he was naked, you blushed at the sight of his erect cock.

"is that because of me?" you asked as toto approached.

he chuckled a little, "of course it is. it's been because of you for the last few months." he captured your chin in his grasp and you giggled a little. you felt the excitement run through you.

you tried to lean up to him to give him a kiss and he met you halfway. soon toto was in the bed with you and you were laid out on the sheets with your head on the pillows.

toto's hands grazed your body and admired your beauty. you drew him in like a heat during a cold winter. your love warmed him. it almost made him want to utter the words, "i love you." but he didn't want to scare you off. but as he got between your legs and leaned in to pepper your heated skin with kisses, the urge to say those words only grew in his chest.

he was your professor, a mentor and teacher. and while he taught you deeply about the intricacies of european history and beyond. he also wished to teach you about the pleasures of sex. how to feel good with a partner.

he moved your hips a little closer to him. his cock up against your slit as you admired your beauty below him. the softness of you, so tender and sweet. he knew you could be tough, you could be strong. he had seen you debate men with a fury in class. you were passionate, like an inferno.

but under him, on the bed. you looked so sweet. that toto knew that the wait was worth it. he gently eased his cock into you, mindful of your noises and expressions. he didn't want to hurt you. while he didn't gloat about the size of his cock, it was a little more that proportionate to the rest of him.

"are you-"

"i'm perfect." you replied. getting used to the stretch was something, but you accommodated after a few moments of him settled inside of you. you squirmed a little and toto leaned in to kiss you gently.

he started to move and you moved in return. your pace was uneven, but toto found it endearing. you were trying to hard. it was painfully cute. you wanted both of you to have an enjoyable time.

those three little words popped into toto's head when the pleasure started to sink into his bones. when it made his blood run hot. he was a much older man, but he knew how to take care of such a prized possession. the student that he adored like the sun adored the earth.

he wanted to make you feel good. he wanted you to enjoy sex. sex with him! so his touches were tender as were his kisses. he rocked against you as he felt your wetness coat his length. he was able to fit all of himself into you.

you whined a little and he pulled away. when he looked at you with a bit of worry in those dark eyes. you pulled him back in for a searing kiss. everything about how you were feeling felt amazing. toto wanted to know you like the back of his hand.

"toto."

"is it feeling good?" he said. there was such a softness to his voice as he moved against you. he could feel the heat in his stomach as he moved against you. there really was no other woman like you. he had made his way through a lot of the department, but with you. you were special. you weren't a flavour of the month, you were what toto wanted all year. every day, however he could get you.

you made this old history professor for once look to the future rather than get comfortable in the past.

you nodded and verbalized it, 'it feels good. i was wondering if you could move... faster." you felt almost bad for making any sort of demands. you didn't know what the hell you were doing!

he chuckled a little, "a little demanding." he joked before he kissed you. he started to move faster against you. you felt the pleasure radiate from your core.

this was on par, if not better, than when you pleasured yourself. you squirmed a little and held onto the bed under you. you two moved together as you found toto's rhythm. the kisses grew hotter and you knew you wouldn't last long.

but that was okay, the idea of having an orgasm brought on by toto made you stomach twist in knots. good kinds of knots. you held on tightly to the covers and arched your back.

your eyes closed for a moment as you felt the intensity of pleasure come to a head and orgasm took over. toes curled, body tense. it all felt amazing as you moaned loudly.

toto quickly sealed your noises with another kiss and he continued to make love to you. he found the pace to take you at, and that excited him.

he was so much older than you. the student under him. you were all curious glances and big smiles. your cheeks were heated and your breathing heavily. you looked blissed out and it made toto hot all over. he did that to you. the first person to ever make you finish outside of yourself. what a title to have.

"you're so beautiful." he said, "everything about you is... perfect, i lo-" he stopped himself before he corrected, "i admire our time together, and want more of it." then smiled down at you. he'd get to those words later.

the thrusts continued and toto felt the pull of climax. the tension in his body. it all felt very hot.

"i'm close." he said, "i'm going to pull out." the last thing he wanted was the scandal of you getting pregnant. you had a program to finish and toto wasn't going to stop you.

he pulled out while right on the edge of climax and quickly stroked his cock. he eventually came across your stomach. watching the pearly white of his cum all over your stomach. it made him finish more than he usually did, the sight of him marking you almost added a boost to his pleasure. especially when you squirmed so beautiful. your breathing heavy pants, it turned him on greatly.

you laid there for a moment, heavily panting as you felt the lingering feeling of climax through your body. you moaned a little when toto grabbed some tissues off of the nightstand and wiped your stomach. while he got most of it off, you felt a little sticky.

he threw the tissues out and got beside you on the bed. he pulled you into his arms and kissed you gently.

"can i stay here for a little bit?" you asked, "a lot of... a lot of feelings in the brain.. good ones though!"

toto smiled, "of course, you take all the time you need. do you want me to get you your book?" he kissed at your sweaty temple.

you turned in his arms and pressed your cheek against his chest, "that sounds great... thank you."

the kissed the top of your head and said, "of course.. anything for you." <3

[cosmic-waves7]

Jealousy, Jealousy.

Note: I tried Smth new w howl, pls pls lmk if u like it cuz I was half asleep as I typed this out (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

He's jealous.

It was only a quick pitt stop at the Wizard Pendragon's shop (one of Howl's many aliases) that set it all off.

A calm morning for the Pendragon's moving household was set to start and the shop needed a bit of upkeep as customers were running dry. So with the creaky floorboards all swept up and Calcifer warned to not misbehave, the clock-like magical device that hung next to the door signalled with a resounding ding and a switch in colour indicating where the castle had teleported to.

There was a long day ahead but you couldn't be more pleased.

As the hours went on Howl worked in rhythm with you as tinkering laughter was heard throughout the shop and bubbling mixtures were stirred harmoniously in cauldrons. There was a calm air to your love as he flitted around you with hands briefly coming to couch and maybe even teasingly squeeze at your hips as he passed.

"Pass me the dandelion leaves ?", He asked while focusing on the lilac fluid seeping from the side of the potion bottle he was pouring into.

You nodded with a kiss atop his freshly midnight-dyed hair - courtesy of sweet Sophie, you know she didn't mean it but you couldn't thank her more for the darkened charcoal colour that had seeped into his golden locks- and off to the ingredients section you went muttering past bottles of all sorts.

Coming back empty handed with no dandelion leaves in sight you let your eyes wander to his sprawled out form in the chair by the fire, Howl only looked up and smiled a bit disappointedly before getting to his feet and tugging on his boots.

You could already see long black feathers creeping out his cloak, predicting his speedy mode of transport for the errand.

"I'll be back in a moment sweetheart, not to worry. Markle will take care of everything."

Knowing full well the small child would've dosed off by now as he'd left to play in the fields while you both worked, you were left to manage the quaint store while Howl flew out for after a dizzying kiss goodbye and mumbles of bringing you wildflowers to carefully twist into your hair.

Then and only then did a customer decide to come in.

He was a polite young man, easily flustered and a soldier of the royal palace you noted due to the bluish uniform donning his slightly hunched physique.

He was nervous.

You grinned trying to ignore his demeanour so that maybe the pink in his cheeks would lessen.

"Ma'am, the queen has requested for a simple sleep draught from the makings of your shop.", He coughed, "please." came soon quickly after he'd recollected himself and pulling at the yellowed buttons holding his vest together.

You hid your smile behind the worn glove that your sweet partner had embroidered a pathetic attempt of a small daisy onto which you very much cherished, it felt like you were talking to a mouse rather than a fully grown man.

"Why of course."

The man...boy even, settled into a lone seat to watch you set up, eventually gaining courage to invite you into bubbly conversation that you found very boring very fast hence weren't all too interested in so short sugared-up answers were all he received.

The 'banter' he thought he was receiving on your end was honestly faked curiousity.

It seemed he was quite dim. Too dim for your liking.

His puny attempts to indirectly flirt were unoriginal and simply unwelcome.

Just as you were starting up your potion with another lame probe on the topic of the weather about to leave the man's mouth, your beloved hurriedly came in. Cheerily he was chattering on about a bird he'd been able to fly up close to in in his bird-like form.

"Oh, you should have seen it's-", Howl interrupted himself to stare at the man sat atop the brass stool across your apothecary tabletop, "feathers?"

His demeanor immediately switched.

Gone was the gentle, patient magician you were so accustomed to. There stood an intimidating wizard and he oddly felt much taller, much more powerful than a split second ago.

This was the Howl Pendragon you'd only ever heard about through word of mouth, not the one that childishly insisted to cuddle up on your ill-fitted couch or cast silly spells to jokingly make your hair stick up in different directions.

No. This was a whole different feel of a person and it seemed like the magic was almost spilling out of him in waves, you could almost taste it's electric crackling force in the air.

He felt more confident, cocky, ready to rip into this poor man down to his basic self-worth.

You liked it.

His lips twitched.

"Darling, who is this?"

Howl's voice was always deep and smooth as silk, just as it was right now, yet you were no fool and could pick up on the the roughened edges of his tone.

But it seemed like the young soldier took no notice of the emotional state of the suddenly very upset wizard in his presence. He only turning around to bow deeply in respect while stuttering out a greeting and an explanation of his presence.

Howl only had a curt nod to give as a reply and you could tell he wasn't very ecstatic have a new face in here.

If he could roll his eyes at the 'competition', they'd roll all the way to the back of his head to see his brain.

The next few minutes were tense as he only grinned tightly and came to your side to place a very domineering palm on your corseted waist pulling you in closer to his warm body, sending a clear message.

"I'm sure you've got this one little potion down love?", He said with his eyes sharply glancing to the young man that had very clearly receded back into his shell at this point.

Howl didn't even need to say a word, didn't even need to properly look at the guard for him to metaphorically back away. But of course he had to ensure he got his point across, so what else could he do but dip down to deeply kiss your lips, he was only seconds away from basically pushing his tounge into your mouth if you didn't stop his dramatic live-performance.

Nodding satisfied with himself, you huffed whispering 'show off' while he stepped back to tend to his dandelion-leaf-less potion.

You couldn't even look up at the barstool your customer sat on anymore with the intense blush covering your face and you could only imagine the agony of embarrassment he was going through.

With the potion sealed up and a-way-over-the-actual-price bag of coins thrown at the counter, he promptly escaped out the door not even bothering to check for any change.

Shrugging you turned back to glare at Howl who was innocently blinking into space.

"Was the last part really necessary."

He slowly smirked, tendrils of his magic swirling past your shoulders.

"Whatever do you mean?"

You quickly found yourself within his grasp, pressing kisses to your knuckles as an apology.

You knew he wasn't sorry at all.

Loud laughter could be heard from a distance as Calcifer moved the castle along to wherever your hearts desired.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[c0llisiion]

NUMB TO THE FEELING : Concert Sex —J.jk

★pairing: jeon jungkook + f!reader

★genre : smut

★: npr, switch!jk , switch!reader , fellacio , handjob, whiny!jk, idol!jkandreader , dirty talk , cum eating, lots of ‘baby’ usage, its basically jungkook being all whiny idk 💀 – lmk if i missed any!

★W/C: 1,207

Pt.1 , Pt.2 [can be read as a stand alone!]

A/N: HIIIIIIII! Im backkk! I decided to quickly write this lolol (not rlly proud). I didnt intend it to be so switchy jk path but somehow i js ended up there 😭 its kinda short and idk imo but anyways hope you liked this! I might make this a series hehe

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It was the day of jungkooks fanmeet. The crowd was huge. Fans were screaming out his name over and over again. The arena was so lively. You were deep in the audience, and no one seemed to notice you. You were sitting in the 3rd row with your managers and bodyguards surrounding the seats in front of and beside you. You watched as your boyfriend entertained a crowd of mostly young women. There was a spark of jealousy, but why would you be jealous when you get to fuck him whenever you want?. As the concert went on, vcr’s were played every now and then, but one of them caught your eye. It was a vcr where Jungkook hopped out of his and yours shower. In the same shower, he ate you out till you were shaking. The same shower where you suck his dick as he groans and whines at the way your mouth worked on his dick. The same shower he pushed you against, fucking into you until you blacked out. Thoughts of those steamy days and nights flooded your mind as you watched the vcr.

 

Jungkook had just finished the second-last setlist of the night. You watched him scurry off the stage, removing his clothes in the process. You relaxed and laid back a bit when one of jungkooks staff approached you. “Mr.jeon would like to see you in his dressing room immediately, Ms.y/n”  she said while taking deep breaths. You smirked and nodded before following her. You knew exactly why he called you. You were guided through the backstage area by his staff. People were running rampant, preparing for the next set list. She eventually brought you to Jungkook's dressing room before giggling and leaving. You stared at the door in front of you, contemplating whether to tease him and just leave or give him what he wanted. “Come in already, baby.” A deep voice was heard from inside the room. How the hell did he know? You chuckled before entering his dressing room. "I thought of actually leaving you all hard and-“ jungkook grabbed you by your neck and smashed his lips against yours, cutting your little banter off. His other hand went to your ass, groping the fatty flesh from under your teeny-tiny miumiu skirt. His tongue was inside your mouth as he pressed his hard-on against you. “Fuck– gotta make this quick, baby. God, you look so hot rn.” He mumbled into your mouth as his fingers toyed with your wet pussy. You moaned into his mouth, grinding onto his fingers for more stimulation.

You pushed him away when you felt his fingers pushing inside of your soft walls. He stumbled back a bit and stared at you, confused. “Baby? Whats wrong-“ he got cut off as you pushed him down onto the dressing room couch, immediately taking your place in between his legs. Jungkook smirked at your sudden action before relaxing on the couch, throwing his head back, waiting for your next move. You were kneeling down in front of him as you palmed his erect cock through his jeans. You unzipped his pants and pulled down both his jeans and boxers together. His big, thick cock flung out, hitting his belly, precum already leaking. 

You took the monster in your hands, smearing the pre down his shaft before sucking on his tip. Jungkook let out a loud groan, bringing his hand to your head to push you further down. You slapped his hand away. He stared at you with a confused look and a pout. “You’re being mean-..” he whined. Your hands went up and down his length, slowly pumping it. “Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” You say it tauntingly. Your hands increased in pace, and jungkook was in another world. His head was thrown back as whimpers after whimpers escaped his mouth. “Look at you. All whiney. You just love it when i tease you, dont you jungkook?” You say before pressing your thumb into his slit. Jungkooks hips bucked up at the sudden action. “Haa…! Nghh- y/n..” he moaned, his eyes looking down at you half-lidded and on the verge of tears as you kept teasing his sensitive tip. “Speak up, baby. What is it?” You ask with a fake sweet tone as you fondle his heavy balls. Pulling and tugging on them before licking up a huge stripe from his balls to his tip. Jungkook whined out loud, his back arching away from the couch. Hands gripping the armrest. “You are so sensitive..” you say, gliding your hands up and down his length faster. “So..so.. sensitive..” wrapping around his dick tighter and pumping him faster. “Haa… fuck so good, y/n… im gonna cum…—“ he says, eyes closed and in a state of bliss. “Yeah? You’re gonna cum? What if I don't let you?” You say before detaching from his cock and watching it twitch in the air. Jungkook whined and cried, missing your soft hands. “Please y/n.. let me cum.. I promise to fuck you good .. “ you loved seeing him be all desperate for your touch. The way he could switch from being a dom to a sub was so surreal. You chuckle at his words and nod. “As you wish…” you say before putting his entire length down your throat. Jungkook moaned out as your throat spasmed around his thick dick. Your head bobbed up and down his length. His hands are pinned down to his sides by your hands, restricting him from touching you. 

Jungkook was a moaning mess. His sweet little mouth let out groans every second as you worked up his length. You felt his dick twitch in your mouth, and before you knew it, a white, salty liquid coated the inside of your mouth and throat. You coughed and gagged around his cock as rope after rope of cum kept slipping down your throat. Spurts of his cum start to peek out the sides of your mouth. You pulled away and swallowed all of it before bringing your hands back to his softening cock, overstimulating the hell out of him. Jungkook shuddered under your touch as he tried pushing you off. “Y/n please.. thats enough..” he said. You smirked at him before continuing to work up and down on his length. He leaned forward and wrapped his hand around your neck, immediately stopping your movements. "Didn't I tell you to stop, doll?” He said he was squeezing the sides of your neck. You nodded and whimpered as his grip on your neck tightened. His hands traveled to your jaw, his fingers wiping away the reminder of his cum that was around your mouth. He stuffed his fingers back into your mouth, and you shamelessly licked off the rest of his cum. He smirked and softly slapped your cheeks. “I fucking love you.” Was all he said before he was cut off by a loud knock on his door.

“Jungkook you are up in 10! Get ready quick!” His manager screamed from the other side. He looked at your kneeling figure before kissing your cum stained lips. “We are not done yet btw” he said, pulling you up before putting his pants back on and exiting his room.

A/N: Ilysmmm! Thank you for reading!!!

[dollfaceksj]

taste of a poison paradise | jjk (m) MASTERLIST

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: Jeon Jungkook is your junior and a great student, obsessed with anime and video games. To you, he’s a Grade A geek. However, you soon find out the reason why he’s so quiet around you is because your mutual friends have told him to stay away from you for your sake, not his. Why? You wish you weren’t so curious because now you’re determined to find out.

➥ GENRE: slowburn ⋆ angst ⋆ fuckboy!jk ⋆ e2l

➥ CATEGORY: crack drabble series (bullet-point format)

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, (eventual smut), plot twist, improv, interactive, angst, love triangle cause theres a bit of yoongi x reader, reader is curious and nosy, arguing, jealousy, jk is TOXIC and so is READER, switch!jk & switch!reader, spit kink, spanking, hairpulling, slapping, protected sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up), sad childhoods, trauma, lots of trauma, sensitive topics, minors DNI

➥ STATUS: completed

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

— i n d e x ↓

♢ #1 jungkook gets down like that

♢ #2 jungkook likes role-play

♢ #3 jungkook doesn’t like you

♢ #4 jungkook wants to apologize

♢ #5 jungkook doesn’t like being called a fuckboy

♢ #6 jungkook wants his expensive sneakers back

♢ #7 jungkook can only offer good dick and math notes

♢ #8 jungkook wants to talk

♢ #9 jungkook buys you a bar of kinder

♢ #10 jungkook wants you to take his bait

♢ #11 jungkook wants what’s best for you

♢ #12 jungkook doesn’t know what to do when he’s nervous

♢ #13 jungkook has some mud on his clothes

♢ #14 jungkook accepts your challenge

♢ #15 jungkook thinks you have a filthy mouth

♢ #16 jungkook can’t stop himself

♢ #17 jungkook has experience in being quiet

♢ #18 jungkook craves love and affection differently

♢ #19 jungkook wants your phone

♢ #20 jungkook doesn’t think he bares all the blame

♢ #21 jungkook thinks you have fallen for him

♢ #22 jungkook is up to date with your instagram stories

♢ #23 jungkook knows more about you than you think

♢ #24 jungkook doesn’t want to hear another word from you

♢ #25 jungkook hates everything about you

♢ #26 jungkook thinks you should end it

♢ #27 jungkook might as well admit defeat

♢ #28 jungkook wants just a little bit

♢ #29 jungkook is never drinking again

♢ #30 jungkook wants to be good to you

♢ #31 jungkook wants you to be sure

♢ #32 jungkook doesn’t want to leave

♢ #33 jungkook and mia

♢ #34 jungkook and the significance of the fallen angel

♢ #35 jungkook and his only friend

♢ #36 jungkook and his enemy

♢ the end.

— s i d e d r a b b l e s ↓

♢ #1 the one in the elevator

♢ pending…

— e x t r a s ↓

♢ playlist

♢ f.a.q.

♢ cross-posted on ao3

♢ pending…

➸ request here

➸ support me by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

[babydollmarauders]

TIDAL WAVE — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem! reader

summary: in which Mark’s girlfriend and his best friend have a secret.

warnings: cheating, toxic/unwanted relationship(?), asshole-ish Mark at one point, NSFW!!, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected), choking/breath play, dirty talk, dom!Luke, please let me know if i missed any

notes: takes place at umich. this is less of a pure smut and more of an actual fic that just has smut. inspired by Tidal Wave by Chase Atlantic. (6.6k words)

i never meant for this to happen.

i didn’t go into this wanting to break Mark’s heart.

i was always the one who got cheated on.

i was never the cheater.

but then Luke happened.

he brought out a side of me that i never even thought i had.

Mark pushed us together, really. Luke needed a tutor, and Mark knew i had the highest grade in that class. he practically begged me to tutor his friend; make sure he kept his grade up high enough to continue playing hockey.

so, i said i would help.

Luke and i started meeting up during our free time. we would do our homework together, and i would talk him through the lesson and make sure he understood it all.

we started off with meetings at the library. then we switched to meeting at a diner; where we quickly learned that the new setting did not help in our studies. rather distracting us instead, which lead to less time being spent on homework, and more time spent getting to know each other.

through our diner meetings is where we learned that we had a lot in common. both being the youngest of three siblings, both loving movies and the same music, we became best friends. we lost our filters around each other, our conversations ranging anywhere from hockey to what we liked in bed.

maybe that’s where i should’ve stopped. i should’ve drawn the line when we got so close that we started talking about our nightly activities. me complaining about Mark being too gentle and never seemingly wanting to hook up, and him discussing the girls that he hooked up with at parties, confiding in me that most of them ended up asking him about his brothers after the act.

our meeting location eventually changed again, first to the dining room table at sophomore house, typically backgrounded with Mackie and Dylan playing video games. and finally, to his bedroom, where we had no interruptions. no loud friends playing games, no hustle and bustle of waitresses, no distracting noises from others in a library. it was just us and our textbooks.

but then December seventh happened. Mackie and Dylan had left for their afternoon classes, Mark and Ethan out at theirs, and Luke and i were left with the house to ourselves.

we started out good. we sat on his bed, textbooks and laptops in front of us. then we got off topic.

one second we were discussing the homework, and the next, i was telling him about how i faked an orgasm the night before and i was still frustrated.

i didn’t expect for him to offer to help me. or for him to kiss me. and i certainly didn’t expect to kiss him back, or for it to lead to what it did.

but it happened, and now i’m too deep in. my heart is split between my boyfriend and his best friend.

we kept up our charade the next semester. claiming we were studying together for our current shared class, because we were great at helping each other. but as soon as the house was empty, every wednesday without fail, we found ourselves tangled in his sheets.

we were good at keeping our activities on the down low, for the most part. the guys had noticed that he quit sleeping around, and Luke was partially honest; telling them that he had a regular thing with a girl he really liked, but he was cautious to never drop my name.

i was caught at a crossroads. break up with Mark, my boyfriend of over a year? or put a stop to my activities with Luke, the only guy who’s ever been able to satisfy my desires?

**

“babe, you okay?” i’m struck out of my thoughts, by my boyfriend, his hand coming down on my knee, not exactly rough, but certainly not gentle in his inebriated state.

“hmm?” i hum, turning my head to look at him beside me on the couch. “yeah, i’m fine.”

another Wolverines win meant i was stuck at another team party. top hits blast from the speakers around us, red solo cups in nearly everyone’s hand as they grind against each other.

the sophomore guys are crowded around the couch, playing a round of truth or dare, and i’m nestled up beside Mark, silently observing.

“okay.” Mark brushes off my out-of-character behavior, tuning back into the game.

“Hughesy, truth or dare?” Ethan smirks and Luke rolls his eyes, a crooked smile plastered across his lips.

“truth.” the guys ‘boo’ him, but he lets their disappointment run off his back. “i’m not doing an Eddy dare.”

“fine.” Ethan groans, stopping for a moment to think before his face lights up, and i know he’s about to ask something he desperately wants the answer to. “who’s the mystery girl that’s put an end to your fuckboy ways, Hughesy?”

my body stiffens as Luke’s smile drops, his gaze flickering towards me so fast that no one else would’ve caught it.

“nice try.” he laughs the question off, sticking his middle finger up at his teammate. “i’m not telling you.”

“c’mon bro!” Dylan eggs on, nudging his friends knee.

“we just wanna makes sure she’s good enough for you!” Mark chimes in from his spot next to me, drawing Luke’s attention towards us. he looks straight into my eyes before he faces my boyfriend.

“trust me, you’d think she’s plenty good enough.” he tells him, a smirk drawn on his face. at his next words, i bite my lip so hard, i think i may draw blood. “you’d really like her.”

the guys howl, clapping their teammate on the back as he turns bashful under my gaze. his head drops down, a blush coating his cheeks before he stands up, a sound of disapproval falling over the group.

“i’m just going to get another drink.” he laughs, shaking his head. “anyone need anything?”

a chorus of ‘no’s and ‘i’m good’s come from the guys, and Luke looks at me.

“you need anything, y/n?” i grow small under his stare, shy and meek.

“yeah, i need a refill.” i shake my empty cup and rise to my feet. “but i can get it.”

i turn back to inform Mark that i’ll be right back, but he’s paying no attention to me. already wrapped up in a conversation with Mackie about some video game.

i heave out a sigh, slightly embarrassed, and face forward once more, only to find Luke still waiting for me with pity filled eyes.

we walk together to the empty kitchen, everyone spread out around the rest of the house, only wandering in here to grab another beer and leave.

“you’re playing a dangerous game, Luke.” i speak up as i pour a concoction of sprite and pink whitney into my cup. “he could catch on.”

he shakes his head, chuckling. “they’re too drunk to catch on.”

“regardless,” i sigh, looking over at him as he pours another jack and coke, my hip leaning against the counter. “we have rules for a reason, Luke. you can’t do what you did in there. looking at me before you answer. those vague hints to Mark. it’s like you’re asking for us to get caught.”

“i say fuck the rules.” shrugging, he turns to face me. “let ‘em find out.”

“Lu-”

“you deserve better, y/n.” he cuts me off, and i squeeze my eyes shut at his words. “i mean, he isn’t even paying any attention to you. he rarely ever does.”

“stop-” but he doesn’t.

“you deserve someone who pays attention to you. you deserve someone who knows you. inside and out.” i huff out a chuckle at his innuendo, but tears sting my eyes, threatening to spill over.

“i can’t, Luke. i just— i can’t.” i sniffle. blinking back the tears. “you don’t understand. our parents set us up, they think we’re good for each other. and if i break up with him— if i break up with him, my parents will blame me for ruining their friendship with his parents.”

“is their dream of having their children date and marry so that your families can be intertwined, really more important than your happiness?”

Luke’s hand lays upon mine on the counter. “because i’m sure it’s not. i’m sure they’d understand that you guys just weren’t meant for each other.”

i shake my head, adamant about my answer.

“no, i don’t think they would.” i huff. “our moms have practically planned our wedding from the moment Mark and i were born. you should’ve seen their reaction when we said we’d give a relationship a try. they basically straight out told us that we couldn’t just try, we had to last, because if we don’t, then we fucked up their friendship.”

Luke opens his mouth again to speak, but he’s cut off by Ethan stepping into the kitchen. i pull my hand back from the counter as if someone lit it on fire, stepping back from Luke as though to not seem suspicious.

“hey, y/n, you may wanna go in there. Mark is drunk, and you know what that means.” Ethan grimaces and i nod.

he’s hitting on other girls.

i thank him for telling me as i set my cup down, walking out of the kitchen and sparing a glance back at Luke, who watches me leave.

“c’mon, Marky.” i plaster on a fake smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes as i find my boyfriend. he’s locked in a conversation with a blonde that i’ve seen in one of my classes, pulling out all his best tricks in order to try and charm her. “let’s go up to your room.”

“no thanks, mini. i’m good.” my entire demeanor deflates as i watch him brush me off, but somehow the nickname usage slightly makes up for it.

“Mark, you’re drunk and you’re hitting on other girls, let’s go.” i try and speak with confidence, but my voice fails me; wavering on my last words. the blonde girl cringes, walking away when she realizes that he’s spoken for.

“mini, you’re killing my game.” he groans, finally turning to look at me.

“i’m your girlfriend, the only game you’re supposed to have is with me.” i sigh. “let’s go. you need to sleep off the alcohol.”

he whines, giving in and taking my hand, allowing me to lead him up the stairs and away from the bustling party.

i hate having to intervene when this happens, because i know i’m no better than he is. except i’m actually sleeping with someone else, he’s just trying to.

but our friends would be too suspicious if i didn’t stop him.

“i wish we had just stayed best friends.” he grumbles, not for the first time since we started dating. “dating you is one of the biggest mistakes i’ve made. we were so much better as friends.”

tears spring to my eyes, and unlike ten minutes ago, i let these ones fall.

he’s been doing the same thing— and saying the same words— since a mere month into our relationship, and i desperately wish i could disagree with him.

“trust me, the sentiment is shared.” i whisper to myself as we reach his room.

i push his door open, ushering him inside and watching as he lays down in the bed and lets out a yawn. i follow in behind him, shutting the door before i help him out of his clothes and into pajamas.

laying in the bed, he curls up against me, his head on my stomach as my hand rakes through his hair; lulling him to sleep.

why do things have to be so complicated?

**

i don’t see Luke again until wednesday. each time i’m at the house, he’s nowhere to be found. either in his room, or out with one of the guys.

in all honesty, i wasn’t even sure if we were still on for our ‘study session’ today. but i showed up anyway, loaded down with my backpack and a ton of stress from my morning classes.

“hey, y/n.” Mackie opens the front door, letting me walk in past him. “Luke’s in his room.”

i nod, eyeing him as he walks over and drops down on the couch beside Ethan, resuming their video game.

“don’t you guys have class?” i question, inching my way towards the stairs.

Ethan shakes his head, his eyes never leaving the tv screen. “canceled. professor is sick.”

i nod, bidding them a ‘see you later’ as i make my way up the stairs to Luke’s room.

his door is shut, but i don’t bother knocking, instead barging in as i have many times before. Luke is standing in front of his closet, a towel wrapped around his waist and his wet curls dripping water down his back. he spins around at the sound of his door opening and shutting, but relaxes once he realizes it’s just me.

i scan his body, my gaze lingering on his abs before i halt altogether at his exposed v-line from the low-hanging towel. my bottom lip catches between my teeth and it takes me a second to remember what oxygen is and why i need it.

snapping out of my sexually charged trance when i see his abs flex from his laughter, my eyes snap back up to his face, where a smirk rests.

“would you like me to take the towel off or do you just wanna keep undressing me with your eyes?” he teases, ultimately choosing to forgo a shirt and just grab a pair of sweatpants from one of his drawers.

“why didn’t you tell me Mackie and Ethan are staying home?” i hiss. “i wouldn’t’ve come!”

i rid myself of my backpack, dropping it on his bed as he puts the sweatpants on, hanging up his towel on his closet doorknob.

“precisely.” he winks. “you wouldn’t have come.”

retrieving my textbook and laptop from my bag, i roll my eyes at his double entendre and take a seat criss-cross on the floor at the foot of his bed. he follows suit with his own laptop.

“i’m serious, Luke. i would’ve just went back to my dorm. i don’t actually have any homework until next week and i didn’t plan on doing any today.” i pout, glancing over at him as he takes his seat beside me, so close that my knee brushes against his thigh. “now i have to.”

“i mean, you don’t have to.” he shrugs, his arm snaking around my waist. he uses it to pull me towards him, maneuvering my body so i’m straddling him. “been thinking about you all week, baby.”

“yeah?”

my cheeks flush as he nods, his eyes dark with lust as he leans forward to kiss me. his lips are soft against mine, tasting of toothpaste, which blends perfectly with my peppermint chapstick.

he grabs a handful of my ass, taking advantage of my resulting gasp in order to slip his tongue past my lips.

his fingers play with the hem of my tank top, pulling away to pull the shirt over my head, leaving my chest bare. he slides me off of him, my legs now across his lap, my butt pressed against the side of his thigh.

he dips down to attach his lips to mine again and one of his hands grips my hip, pulling me closer so that my breasts press against his shirtless chest, his other hand sliding up to cup the back of my neck. while both of mine are tangled in his wet hair, slightly tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck.

his lips abandon mine in favor of leaving open mouthed kisses down my jawline, smirking against my skin at the sound of my quiet moans.

“Luke, you gotta stop.” i can barely get the words out, both from the pleasure that wracks my body as his tongue swirls my pulse point, and from the lack of desire to stop.

“hmm why?” he mumbles against my skin, not easing in his attack against my neck, but careful not to leave any marks.

“because the boys are right downstairs.” i remind him. “and no matter how much we’ll want to, we can’t go any further because your bed creaks and they’ll hear it.”

he pulls back to look me in the eyes, his hand sliding around so that it now provides a gentle stable grip on my throat. he uses that touch to slowly lower my body down, simultaneously removing his legs from beneath mine and hovering above me, holding himself up with the hand not currently wrapped around my throat.

“we don’t have to use the bed, baby.” his tone is low and dripping with sex, making me clench my thighs together at the sound.

i suck in a deep gasp as my bare skin touches the cold hardwood floor, my back arching and my chest pressing against his arm, which he uses to push my body down until i lay flat. i can feel my panties dampen at the lust that darkens his eyes when he feels me breathe in against his grip.

he lowers himself down above me, his body pressing grazing lightly between my now spread legs, as his lips attach to my breast, leaving wet kisses at the top of it. his hand slides down from my throat to let him thumb circle my other nipple, and i have to bite down on my lip in order to keep quiet.

“Luke.” i whisper out a moan, and he chuckles against my breast. his tongue kitten licks my nipple before his lips close around it, sucking gently and letting his teeth scrape incredibly lightly against it.

my hips buck up against him, finding friction against his abs, but he pulls away. he sits back on his knees, his fingers coming down to play with the waist band of my skirt, looking down at me in search of my approval. at my nod, his fingers sink into the fabric, pulling both the skirt and my underwear down my legs.

he flings the fabric to the side, neither of us paying attention to where they end up; too wrapped up in each other.

his gaze sinks downward to my glistening cunt, biting his lip as he drags his middle and ring fingers through the wetness. my body twitches as he brushes over my clit, already swollen with arousal. one side of his lips curls upwards into a smirk.

“look at you. such a good girl for me.” i nod my head at his words, attempting to grind down harder onto his fingertips, that have halted on my clit, providing just enough pressure for me to feel it. “so wet already.”

i whimper quietly and Luke fakes a pout, mocking my sound.

“you want me, darling?” he pushes down just a little harder on my clit and i sigh, my legs falling open a little more.

“yes.” i whisper. “yes, please, Luke, ple-.”

my words die off as he slips one finger inside of me, pumping it in and out slowly, and crooking it up to hit my g-spot.

my mouth forms an ‘o’, my eyes rolling back before fluttering shut. his other hand snakes up to provide weight upon my throat, applying just enough pressure to make it a little harder for me to breathe, but not impossible.

i seal my lips, placing a hand over my mouth to keep myself from crying out as he adds a second finger. as he pumps his fingers, he presses the heel of his palm against my clit, and the dual stimulation in addition to the choking has my face going red; my head dizzying.

Luke’s grip leaves my neck, allowing me to breathe a bit easier, and i open my eyes to see him hovering above me. his gaze flickers down to the hand that covers my mouth and i move it, his head dipping to press his lips against mine.

his hand that’s between my legs never eases up, only speeding its pace as he adds a third finger, and i can feel my release edging closer and closer as i begin to grind myself down onto his fingers.

my cries are muffled by his lips, swallowed by him while his tongue pushes against mine. he pulls back, his eyes scanning my face.

“that’s it, darling.” he coos, his nose nudging against mine, my hips still moving against his fingers. “ride my fingers.”

the chuckle he lets out, as i continue to obey his words, is dark. he slides down my body, lowering himself fully now to be laying on his stomach on the floor; his face so close that i can feel his hot breath on my cunt.

his fingers persist in their mission to get me off as he begins flicking his tongue against my clit, and i’m barely able to cover my mouth before i let out a high pitched moan. his lips enclose around the bundle of nerves, sucking and flicking, but never ceasing the motions of his fingers inside of me.

my legs snap shut as my orgasm quickly approaches, but he just uses his free hand to pry them open; hooking his arm under my thigh and holding it open so he can continue his assault between my legs.

“open up, darlin’.” he mutters against me, and the vibrations send me.

my breath catches in my throat, my eyes rolling back, and my toes scrunching as i come around his fingers, my hand dropping down to tangle in his curls, holding him in place as i ride out my orgasm.

my back arches as he sticks his tongue out, letting me grind against it, while his fingers still pump in and out of me, crooking up in a ‘come here’ motion.

i stop moving as i come down from my high, my body falling limp as i pant to catch my breath. Luke sits up, looking into my eyes as he sucks his fingers clean of my cum, humming at the taste.

“you taste so good.” he tells me. leaning over to kiss me, his tongue licks against mine, spreading the taste. “i don’t wanna share you anymore, baby.”

my eyes fall closed at his confession, finding it unfair of him to say when i’m still reeling from my climax.

“Luke,” i sigh, but he kisses me again, cutting me off and refusing to let me deny him of his request.

“he might kick my ass when he finds out, but i’ll take that beating.” he mumbles against my lips. “just let me take care of you. let me love you the way you deserve.”

his words are enticing, and in my fuzzy mind, unable to think clearly, they make sense.

“okay.” my response makes him smile and he eagerly presses a kiss against my lips.

“yeah?” he begins peppering kisses down my throat. “you gonna breakup with him?”

another kiss.

“let me take you out on a date?”

he sucks gently at a spot behind my ear.

“let me love you outside of these four walls?”

i nod, my head tipping back to allow him better access.

“good girl.” he whispers in my ear, his breath against it making me shiver.

his lips find mine again, his body hovering over mine, and i let my hands explore, dragging down over his abs until they reach his sweatpants. i rub his erection through the gray fabric, making him thrust into my hand.

“don’t start something you’re not ready to finish yet, darling.” he mutters, his voice strained from holding back.

“who said i’m not ready?” i ask him, voice sultry as i peer up with innocent eyes. “i’ve had a few minutes to recover.”

his head drops into my neck, groaning lowly as my hand strokes him through his sweatpants.

“you want me to fuck you?” he asks, biting gently at my shoulder. “want me to bury this cock so deep in your pussy?”

“yes.” i gasp, my heart racing and my core throbbing at the thought. “want you to fuck me so good.”

“okay, darling.” he nods in permission and i pull his sweatpants down, letting his erection spring free. he moves away to take them off completely, and i clench around nothing at the sight of him.

he lowers himself between my thighs, gripping the base of his cock and rubbing it over my clit twice before h lines himself up with my entrance. my hips involuntarily jerk, resulting in his tip pushing in, and he takes that sign to finally bury himself inside of me.

he pushes in painfully slow, hissing at the feeling of my walls encompassing him.

“you’re so tight.” he speaks through a clenched jaw, watching my face scrunch in pleasure as he pushes in, stretching me out inch by inch until his full length is inside of me. “you feel like heaven.”

he doesn’t move, letting me adjust to size, kissing me as he does so, but it doesn’t take more than a moment before i’m speaking against his lips.

“please, move.”

at my request, his hips pull back before snapping back in. my hands fly to his back, my nails digging in as he thrusts in and out of me. i cry out against his shoulder, his face dropped down in my neck, and i pray to whatever higher being, that the boys are still downstairs with their video game blasting; drowning out the noise of skin slapping and our sounds of pleasure.

“faster, Luke.” i whine, pressing a kiss to his neck.

he speeds up his strokes, and i choke out a moan at the same time that he grunts, pulling out all the way and then snapping his hips to harshly thrust in.

my nails scratch down his back, surely leaving marks, and he moans quietly at the feeling, pulling his head out of the crook of my neck in order to look at my face. i’m certain that i look like a mess; my face red, my jaw dropped open, and my hair spread across the floor behind me, but i can’t find it in myself to care.

“you’re beautiful.” he mutters, dipping down to kiss me. i bite at his bottom lip, resulting in a loud groan entering my mouth from his.

Luke pulls away, sitting up and gripping my hips as he begins to pound into me. my hips chase his, and one of his hands leaves my body. grabbing a stray pillow from the end of his bed, he lifts my hips, settling the pillow underneath me before lowering me back down on top of it.

the new angle has my eyes squeezing shut, my hands rising to clutch at my breasts in attempt to ground myself from the immense pleasure. i can feel his tip hitting against my g-spot, making me legs begin to shake.

my walls clench around him and i can feel his hips stutter, his thrusts getting sloppier as he chases his high, and in attempt to help me reach my second orgasm, his hand comes down to gently push against my lower stomach.

tears build in my eyes and i stare up at him, finding satisfaction in watching him concentrate. his abs flex as he slightly hovers back over me, just enough so that he can reach my neck, and his hand wraps around it. my heart leaps in my chest in response to the pressure that he applies, cutting off my airflow for a moment before easing up just enough that i can breathe if i really need to.

i can myself getting lightheaded, a result of the stimulation and the lack of oxygen, and his grip slackens, allowing me to gasp in a breath or two before he repeats the process.

my legs shake, my back arching and my pussy clenching around him as i finally reach my peak, coming on his cock. it only takes a few more sloppy thrusts before Luke is freezing, hips stuttering.

“fuck, i’m gonna come.” he moans quietly, and i buck my hips up to fuck onto him, silently letting him know its okay while i’m still catching my breath.

the movement of my hips spurs on his orgasm, his head dropping back as he comes inside of me.

he falls forward, his body collapsing on top of mine. we stay like that for a few moments, catching our breath, before he slips out of me, causing a whine to escape my lips as he rolls onto the floor next to me.

my head lolls to the side, staring at him as he sucks in deep breaths, and in the post-sex haze, i can’t help but grin at the thought of he and i on a real date. my mind wanders, fantasizing about him picking me up from my dorm, flowers in hand, and taking me out to dinner or a movie.

but it all comes crashing down when i register the severity of what we’ve just done.

we had sex, with other people here. people who know my boyfriend. people who granted, may not be the most observant, but i’m sure would still recognize the sound of sex if they heard it.

“shit!” i curse, sitting up and scanning the room for my clothes.

“hey, what— what are you doing?” Luke asks from his spot on the floor, leaning back on his hands, watching as i pull my clothes back on.

“well, first i have to pee.” i start, glancing over at him. “and then, i need to peek downstairs and make sure dumb and dumber didn’t hear anything.”

he opens his mouth to speak but i cut him off. “god, that was so stupid. we could’ve gotten caught.”

his face deflates, his lips downturning in a frown as he nods.

“right.” he grits out, and i stop in my movements, tank top and underwear on, but skirt still in my grasp.

“hey.” i coo, walking over and dropping down his lap, setting my skirt beside us in favor of cupping his face. “it was just risky of us to do, is all. i don’t regret it, and i don’t regret you.”

he peers at me from behind his lashes, his eyes fluttering closed as i press sweet kisses to his cheeks before locking my lips with his.

“okay.” he nods in understanding.

“you’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Lukey. i don’t want you to think that i regret anything.” i give him another peck. “i just— i don’t want this getting back to Mark.”

another nod, but then the corners of his lips curl up in a small smile.

“at least not until you break up with him.”

shit. i did say i would do that, didn’t i?

“Luke…” i trail off and his smile drops.

“you’re not gonna do it, are you?” he asks sadly. “it was just an empty, heat of the moment promise.”

“no.” i shake my head, my hands running through the back of his curls. “i’m gonna do it.”

i’m firm in my answer, having had enough of not having him in my arms, publicly.

“i just don’t know how.” i confess. “i’ve never broken up with someone, i’ve always been the one being broken up with. and i have to figure out how to do it without him getting pissed at me, so we can stay friends and hopefully we can break the news to our parents together.”

“you can do it.” Luke encourages, straining his neck to kiss my forehead. “you and your big, smart brain will figure out a way.”

a giggle escapes past my parted lips, and i rise from his lap, finally stepping into my skirt.

“i’ll be right back.” i whisper and he sends me a thumbs up as he pulls his sweatpants back on.

slipping out of the bedroom, i go straight across the hall to the bathroom, doing my business and making sure i don’t look like i just got railed, before i finally tiptoe halfway down the stairs. i peer over the banister, finding Mackie and Ethan still wrapped up in their video game, seemingly oblivious to the actions that happened right above their heads.

thank god.

**

it’s not until sunday that i’m able to get Mark alone at the diner, having needed thursday to think of how to break the news, and friday and saturday being game days, in which Mark is incredibly meticulous about his schedule.

i’m sat in a booth, nursing an orange juice as i wait for my boyfriend to arrive, my head perking up every time the entrance bell rings.

finally, in he walks, a beanie on his head and his university of michigan letterman jacket resting upon his shoulders, slipping his phone in his pocket. he smiles when he sees me, stalking over and dropping into the seat across from me.

“hey, mini.” he grins, leaning over the table to press a kiss to my cheek.

“hi, Marky.” my voice is weak, but i do my best to mask it with a smile.

“what’s wrong?” my brows furrow at his words.

“what? what do you mean?” i question, and his eyes flicker down to my cup.

“you’re drinking orange juice,” he laughs, taking the cup from my grasp to take a sip. “you only drink orange juice when you’re sad.”

he knows me too well.

“Mark-” before i can get into my speech of how this relationship isn’t working for either of us and that we should go back to being just friends, my phone buzzes with a reminder notification and i sigh. “sorry, one sec.”

digging through my tote bag, i pull out my birth control, popping a pill out of the sleeve and swallowing it, washing it down with my juice.

“why do you even take that anyway?” Mark scrunches his nose, and i’m sure i look like a deer in headlights when his eyes meet mine. “we barely even hook up, and i wear protection when we do.”

“birth control has more uses than just… controlling birth.” i remind him. “it helps regulate my periods and ease my cramps and-”

“makes sure Luke doesn’t get you pregnant?” his words are like a slap to the face, shocking me, regardless of the soft tone that he says them in.

“what?” i gape, my eyes wide and my lips parted “i-”

i’m rendered speechless. unsure of what to say. i refuse to deny the claim, because it’s true, and i’m sick of lying. but also not wanting to confirm, in fear of upsetting him.

“it’s alright, mini.” he shrugs. “i found out last month. came home to grab a textbook for my next class and heard you guys going at it.

“i was a bit shocked, but i understood.”

i open my mouth, ready to speak, but he cuts me off.

“he’s good for you. i can see that you guys really like each other, and i can’t blame you. i was a pretty shitty boyfriend, wasn’t i? but, i was an even shittier best friend. i’m the one who convinced you to give us a try. and then, only a month later, when i realized how much better we were before dating, instead of just breaking up with you and facing the consequences, i dragged it out for over a year.

“i kept you in a loveless relationship, just because i was scared of what our parents would say.” he scoffs, shaking his head.

my hand slides over on the table to grasp his. “Mark.”

“but, if you wanna be with Luke, i’m okay with that. i should’ve just ended this when i knew that we weren’t right for each other like that.”

my gentle touch turns sour as i smack his hand lightly, finally getting him to shut up.

“Mark, would you stop?” i sigh. “god, you have me feeling guiltier than i already felt. which is valid, i was a shitty girlfriend too.

“i could’ve broken up with you too. i guess we were both too afraid to hear the ‘you fucked up’ speech from our parents. but instead of just taking the loss, i cheated. and nothing can excuse that. no matter how much you and i knew that we weren’t right for each other, i still slept with Luke while we were together, and i’m so sorry for that, Mark. and i would understand if you were pissed at me and you never wanted to see me again. but i really hope that maybe you can forgive me, and we can just go back to being friends, because i’ve really missed my best friend.”

salty tears coat my cheeks as i sniffle, looking into Mark’s red rimmed and slightly puffy eyes from his own tears.

“i’d really like that.” he nods, giving me a soft smile. “and we can tell our parents together. maybe if we tell them that the break up wasn’t messy and we’re still best friends, it won’t be as bad.”

“oh thank god! i really hope so, because i don’t want us to be on the receiving end of our parents wrath forever.” i respond, making him chuckle. “so… is this like a mutual break up or…?”

“oh no- i dumped you. i definitely dumped you.” he jokes and i abrupt with laughter, a snort leaving my lips which causes him to laugh as well.

*

Mark and i walk back to sophomore house together, his arm draped over my shoulder and tears in our eyes from laughing at our own jokes. and for the first time in a year, i feel immense happiness in his presence.

Mark opens the door when we arrive, allowing me to step through and shed my jacket as he follows behind me, doing the same before his arm wraps back over my shoulder. we turn to find at least half the hockey team piled around the living room, a hockey game playing on the tv and snacks scattered all over the coffee table.

most of them only glance up at our arrival, waving or muttering a ‘hey’, before their sights set back on the screen, but Luke’s gaze settles on us, his eyes unmoving. i can see his face drop at the sight of Mark’s touch on me, and i glance up at Mark to see him already looking down at me with a smile. he nods, giving me his approval, and that’s all it takes.

i shed his arm off of me, stalking over to Luke and standing in front of his spot on the couch. he watches me with wary eyes, his expression stony, until i crawl onto him, my legs on either side of his lap. my hands cup the back of his neck, using my grip to pull his face up to mine.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he whispers, but i ignore him, lowering my lips to his.

his hands squeeze at my hips, his lips moving against mine, and i can hear the other boys in the room whispering a chorus of ‘what the fuck’s and ‘oh my god’s and even Rutgers ‘yo, what the hell did i miss’, but i tune them out.

pulling back, a smile paints across Luke’s lips, his gaze flickering to Mark, who i turn back and see grinning at us.

“i take it it went well?” Luke asks me, his nose nudging against mine as i turn back to face him.

“it went great.” i tell him. “he wasn’t mad. in fact, we facetimed our parents and told them together. they were pretty mad, but generally understanding when we told them that we’re still best friends.”

Luke’s arms wrap around my waist, pulling me closer to him in excitement.

“hey.” Mark calls out, gaining Luke and i’s attention once more. “treat her good.”

i roll my eyes at his warning, but Luke just grins.

“i’ll give her the world.”

[starkeygirlposts]

Goosebumps in my Sleeve V

This chapter has been a labor of love. I feel so lacking in creativity, but yet writing is all I can think about! Once I sit down to write, my mind goes blank. Anyway, this chapter is a little all over the place but I wanted to delve into some other topics/scenes from the timeline. I hope you enjoy this one! Please beware that this is NOT proof read and most likely contains several errors. I will eventually get around to proof reading it. Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader Trigger warnings: angst, stepcest, drugs, swearing, pregnancy, smut(a whole drawer of warnings), discussion of suicide, swearing, domestic violence, mama and daddy kink, breeding kink, mention of abortion, talk of death and killing, idk what else lol 18+ mdni

SERIES MASTERLIST

THEN

To say that Rafe got possessive once you found out you were pregnant would be an understatement. Nothing you did was okay with him if he didn’t know about it first. No schedule change or unpredictable plans were allowed to be made without an argument ensuing and a slew of angry texts and missed calls.

You’d try telling him that you needed to keep everything normal and the same as it was before so to not draw any unnecessary attention to the two of you and your situation. But he’d tell you he "didn’t give a fuck”, and “that’s my kid you’ve got in there so you tell me this kind of shit.”

More times than not you’d wonder if you’d only become an incubator for his precious cargo. Whether or not he cared solely about the baby under your heart or also about its mother. So when you go grab tacos with two of your closest friends, you finally lose it when Rafe blows up your phone wondering where you are and why you didn’t tell him you wouldn’t be home. You’d left the house at 6:30, not knowing where Rafe was or when he would be home. Maybe it’s the sinking feeling in his gut when he silently opens your door to find your bedroom empty, his mind racing to the worse case scenario, or maybe it’s the demon buried deep inside of him needing to control your every move.

Your sat at the table at your favorite Mexican restaurant not even five minutes from tanneyhill, chip half dipped into the bowl of guacamole when your phone chimes. The conversation between the three of you halts, and you wave your hand, telling them to continue as you flip your phone over, already knowing who the alert was from. You try to keep a straight face as you read the message.

7:02PM Rafe: Where are you?

You look it over, re reading it three times before debating sending a simple reply, instead deciding to push the power button and set it back down on the table, flipping the silent switch before you do so.

You don’t exactly know why you don’t want to answer, as if the reply takes too much energy. But the two things that come to your mind first is that you not only feel suffocated, but you want to forget for just a moment.

Then at 7:08 he calls you. You obviously don’t answer.

7:08PM Rafe: This again?

2 more missed calls.

7:12PM Rafe: Am I really that shitty of a boyfriend that you don't even want to answer me?

7:15PM Rafe: You’re testing me aren’t you? Why?

7:19PM Rafe: You know I can see where you are right? You’re sharing your location with me.

You stopped sharing your location with Rafe.

7:21PM Rafe: Are you fucking kidding me? I swear to god I will show up there in 5 minutes and drag your ass out of there. Turn your location back on. I’m putting my shoes on right now.

You started sharing your location with Rafe.

7:22PM Rafe: So you can read all my messages and turn your location off and on but you can’t reply?

7:23PM You: I’m with my friends. Girl friends. I’ll text you when I’m leaving.

7:24PM Rafe: Yeah but that doesn’t work for me. I want you here now so wrap it up. If you need me to get you let me know.

You can’t help but scoff, raising your eyebrows which elicits a question from one of your friends asking you who’s texting you. You put your phone in your purse and try to forget about Rafe’s overbearing for an hour with your friends. Casually, you tell her it’s your mom going off about you not telling her you wouldn’t be home for dinner like you’re 14 years old. But when not even fifteen minutes go by and your friends are sat across from you looking over your head at what’s behind you, you ball your fists and finish the last sip of your drink before relaxing in your seat. You almost wish you would’ve just told them the truth. You can see the confusion on their faces as they blink from above you to eye level with you.

You can feel him next to you, but you pretend you don’t. Your friends mutter a confused “Hey Rafe…” before he’s bending down to your level to look at you. Reluctantly, you turn your head to look back at him and his brows shoot up. He silently places a $100 bill on the table and calmly tells you “Let’s go, we’re leaving."

You make the mistake of rolling your eyes, looking back to your friends.

“My friends said hello, Rafe. Why don’t you say hi?” You briefly look to both of your friends, hoping your gaze offers a silent apology.

He straightens back up, pulling your chair out for you. You finally look up at him, his eyes still locked on you as you now meet them with yours. “We haven’t even ordered dinner. I’ll be home in an hour.” You try to tell him, but he’s got your bag in his hand and his hand wraps around your upper arm, pulling you to your feet. His lips are next to your ear, hot breath casting a wind across your neck.

“Do not make a scene here. We’re leaving. Say goodbye.” He tells you, and you look back at him once more before looking down at your friends and telling them that your mom made your favorite and you’d rather avoid a blowout. The girls nod skeptically, looking at you and then at each other and then back to you.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll text you.” You tell them simply, before Rafe is tugging you to walk in front of him. His hand finds your lower back to guide you out of the restaurant and your phone vibrates in your hand. You glance down at it to see the name of you and your friends group chat pop up in your notifications. It reads a simple question.

“Are you okay?”

You take a deep breath, as deep as you can as you walk to Rafe’s truck before you type out a quick reply.

“Totally fine, so sorry. My mom’s been a maniac she Rafe’s just trying to avoid another explosion. I’m actually grateful lol"

Both girls love the message, and you quickly slip it into the pocket of your jeans as his arm leaves your back to open the door of the truck for you. You look back at him and he raises his brows, thrusting his hand forward for you to get in. You huff and relent, grabbing the inside handle and climb in.

You scoff and shake your head, pissed and upset as he climbs into the drivers side. He starts the engine and pulls into the street, not saying a word to you so you take the silence as an opportunity.

You don’t think before you speak, and you regret it instantly.

“Maybe I should’ve had an abortion."

The words fly out faster than you mean for them to, your tone dripping venom as you look ahead at the lit up road, totally vacant. He doesn’t respond, and you look next to you to him, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. His brows are furrowed and his lip is curled in disgust. You know he heard you when he cocks his head and swerves the truck violently into the shoulder.

“What the fuck did you just say?” His tone drips with hatred, his head cocked but keeps his gaze straight ahead. You’re watching him, turning your body fully in your seat. You wonder for a brief moment if you should grovel, mumble out a quick “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” But for the briefest moment you wonder if you actually did…

“No…no, no. Say that again. Say it, I dare you.” He says darkly, finally turning his head to look at you. Your eyes connect and he’s staring at you so deeply you wonder if he can see the turning of your insides.

You’re silent, and his eyes squint like he’s trying to see better.

“Come on baby say it. Say it again. I want to hear you say that shit to me again.” You flinch when his hand jets out to grip the back of your neck harshly, and you cry out in surprise, muttering a “Rafe, stop.” before he’s dragging you closer to him, your belly jutting into the console. His nose presses against yours and he shakes your head as if to wake you up.

“Did you actually fucking say that? About my baby? Wish you would’ve done it, huh? You hate me that much?” He’s seething, seeing nothing but red, glitter sparkling his vision as he tries to focus on you. You try your best to pull your head back, but it’s no use as his grip is strong on your neck keeping you pressed to him. The bow breaks and you can’t help but shout;

“I don’t know, do you hate me that much?! It’s so fucking hard to tell!” Before you continue, his head cocks, his cheek meeting you nose as he takes a deep breath and laughs humorlessly.

“What the fuck? What are you talking about? Are you okay? I mean shit I know hor-"

You cut him off, pushing him back with your hands on his chest to be able to look at him.

“No Rafe! I’m not fucking okay! Thank you for finally asking! Why did you have to ruin tonight for me? Why wasn’t I allowed to get dinner with my friends? Five fucking minutes away from our house? Did you see any guys there? Any drugs on the table? Any alcohol? I didn’t even get to eat dinner! But because I’m having your baby it doesn’t matter right?"

He scoffs and furrows his brows in confusion, trying to get a word in but you slap him instead. His cheek burns, his lips parted in shock as he looks at you and rubs the mark. He shuts his eyes for a moment before opening them and looking at you with intent. Your chest heaves and your hand goes to cover his on his cheek and you can’t help but mumble a “sorry…I -"

He cuts you off, hand leaving his face to grip yours.

“I am fucking terrified, okay? Aren’t you? You’re not — you don't get it! Baby you don’t fucking get it. Listen to me…no, listen to me!” You try to wrangle your head out of his grip, but both hands reach over to grab both of your cheeks between his hands, forcing you to look at him. His pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and his nostrils flared.

“Look at me, you remember that night don’t you? I know you do. Look at me and tell me. Do you mean it? You wish you aborted the baby?” He asks you this rhetorically, but maybe you really do wish you’d just done what Ward told you to. You take a deep breath and fight the tears that threaten to spill over, and they do when you clench your lids closed in regret. Your hand subconsciously drifts to your middle and you shake your head in Rafe’s hands.

“Say it, I need to hear you say it.” His voice is soft now, coaxing you to open your eyes and when you do, he’s ducked his head to look as close at you as he can and you quietly say “No.” He silently nods his head once, and you can’t help the tears that fall down your cheeks and over his fingers.

You’re still shaking your head and you tell him again. “No, no I shouldn’t have…I didn’t mean it. I want her.” You tell him honestly and you see him smile for the first time in so long and he leans down to kiss you, pecking your lips deeply. Your body is rigid against his, sobs shaking your form as you say again “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know, I know you didn’t baby, it’s okay, I know.” He tells you like he’s comforting a child. “I need you to hear me right now, okay?” He asks, serious, pulling away from you to bring your head up to meet his gaze.

“I paid people so you’d get to keep the baby. My father will pay people so that we can’t. Whether that’s right back where we were, or ripping her from your arms. Tell me you understand that. You are not safe. We are not safe.” He says, shaking his head.

You look at him, silent for a moment, and your mind betrays you. You allow yourself to imagine the moment your baby comes out of you and instead of Rafe there, it’s Ward. And instead of your slimy baby being placed on your bare chest, they’re whisked away from you without any words exchanged.

Your hands absentmindedly find Rafe’s forearms that are still holding your face in his hands and you mutter a small “I understand."

“Yeah?” He asks you, and you nod and tell him again that you understand.

“Don’t bring me back there tonight, I - I can’t go back there right now.” You softly say, your mind mushy and your emotions ruined.

You see him nodding, and he calls Topper, asking him if you can use his pool house.

Next thing you know you’re pulling into Top’s driveway, his parents away on vacation and it’s probably the only reason Rafe came here rather than paying for a hotel room.

When you get inside, and the blinds are drawn, you settle on the edge of the made bed having kicked off your shoes and unhooked your bra. You’re watching him pace around to make sure the windows are locked and covered well enough, and when you assume he’s satisfied with the barricade, he finally looks at you. You and all your messy glory. But you’ve shed your pullover and now you’re just in a thin tank top, your bra removed and he looks down to your bump. It’s more prominent, unable to be hidden in regular clothes, and he laughs when he sees the makeshift hair tie closure on your jeans.

You can’t remember the last time you heard him actually laugh. Not laugh without humor, not scoff, but actually laugh with genuine joy. You can’t help but smile with him as he closes the space between you, brushing your hair back from your face and tipping it back so you can meet his eyes.

“Getting bigger, huh?” He asks, still smiling and you nod, hand resting on the biggest part of your belly. At 14 weeks, you were unable to wear most of your clothes, save for 2 pairs of jeans that still closed with a makeshift tie, and some oversized tops and sweaters. You were afraid that you were approaching the point where wearing sweaters in the heat of summer would raise suspicions. You mumble a quiet “mhm”. Your other hand drifts down to said makeshift tie to undo it, freeing your lower belly from the restriction. You shift so you can wiggle them down and over your hips, Rafe watching your movements. You move to stand in front of him and tug the denim all the way down to your knees, allowing them to slide the rest of the way off and kick them off with your feet. His hands drift down your neck, over your arms, to your hands and he grips them, bringing each up to his mouth to kiss each palm while watching you.

You’re watching him back, eyes glued to his as he presses slow, open mouthes kisses up your arm until he drops them and palms your lower back with one hand while the other cups your neck to tilt your head up so that he can crane his neck and press his lips to yours. It feels like too long since you’ve been kissed like this by him, your shoulders slumping in relief as his tongue slips past your lips to flick against yours.

You’re putty in his hands, kissing him back as eagerly as you can while your hormones rage and your emotions are tangled. Your hands rub up his back and around to his biceps, falling down to his elbows where your hands cup, trying to pull him closer to you.

As he takes a breath, you pull your head back to speak.

“You’re gonna love her more than me, aren’t you?” You ask shyly, unable to look at him when you ask, your hands falling away from his body to find the edge of the mattress, lowering your body down to sit.

You don’t see the furrow in his brow as he looks at you confused, his fingers reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear as he cradles your chin in his palm. He moves to his knees before you, and you allow yourself to look at him as he does, looking at you with worry.

“Why would you say that? Gonna love ‘em just as much as I love you.” He tells you, trying to say the right thing. Truth be told, he did love the baby inside of you more deeply than he understood. But wasn’t that normal? Wasn’t he supposed to? Did he love the baby more than he loved you? How was that even possible?

“There wouldn’t be any baby in there if I didn’t love you as much as I do.” He tells you softly, and you nod in acceptance.

“Not just a way for you to continue your legacy?” You ask quietly and now he’s truly confused. He tells you to look at him, and you do.

“I’m gonna tell you this because I don’t want to hear any stupid shit like this again. M’kay?” He asks you, and you nod.

“If we didn’t make her, I don’t think I’d still be here right now.” Now its your brow furrowing, and your hands move to grip his, cautiously asking him what he means. He takes a deep breath and flutters his eyes closed like he’s ashamed.

“You know what I mean, baby. Don’t make me say it. Can’t live without you...you know that.” He tells you honestly and the tear that falls from his eye as he looks at you through saggy lids tell you everything you need to know.

You gasp without meaning to, and you can’t help the guilt brewing in your gut. The idea of a world without Rafe in it makes you want to throw up, your hands gripping his like a vice, and you beg him to never say that again.

“I can’t…I couldn’t do this without you.” You tell him, tears threatening to fall and he pulls you to him to cradle your head under his.

“You don’t have to. I’m here.” He says simply, pulling back just enough to lower his head and kiss you again, his lips soft and hesitant against yours like he’s asking permission, and you lean back on the bed in approval, relenting and his hands snake up to your bottom, fingers squeezing to drag you further up the bed, settling on his knees in between yours.

Your lips find a pace against his, allowing him to find clarity in your movements. Your hips mindlessly buck up against his and he breaks away from your lips to run a hand down the valley of your breasts down below your belly to the hem of your tank, pulling it up and over your head to leave you bare except for your panties that remain the only barrier he can’t see past.

Your chest is heaving, watching him hover above you, and your hands find their way to the hem of his own shirt, tugging on it trying to lift it but needing his help and he chuckles, pulling the shirt off from behind his head, throwing it to the growing pile of your clothing on the floor.

He watches your face as he drags his fingers past the top of your panties to use the tip of his pointer finger to brush down the middle of your panties, the pressure against your clit making you arch up off the bed to gain friction. You moan his name and look down at him. He’s leaning back on his calves, shirtless and watching you squirm in need of more.

“What is it baby?” He teases, cocking his head while he watches you in fascination, his fingers ghosting over your clothed slit, and you nearly cry in frustration. “Please don’t tease me, Rafe.” You groan, using your feet to try to tug him closer to you. But he tuts and tells you to “Relax”.

“Mama’s needy huh?” He croons, watching your expressions with lust, finally using his fingers to tug the crotch of your panties to the side so he can rub your cunt properly.

You throw your head back with a “yes!” falling from your lips. He uses his pointer finger to push inside of your gummy walls, his thumb coming to rub firm circles on your clit, the pressure tightening the knot inside of your gut. He adds his middle finger inside of you, curling his fingers upward to push at the spongey spot inside of you, knowing your body so well.

His other hand comes up to rest on the swell of your belly, your hand instinctively covering his and lacing your fingers through his. His fingers thrust in and out of you at a rapid speed, your hips bucking up off the bed when you’re about to snap. “Gonna make me cum Rafe!” You squeal, pushing out to feel yourself gush around his fingers, pushing up on your elbows to watch him. He’s watching his fingers fuck in and out of you, the wet squelch of you taking him in over and over. You collapse back against the soft mattress again after your chest stops heaving.

Rafe’s fingers leave your core and you can’t help the frustrated grunt that leaves your lips without intent. He climbs off the bed to unbuckle his jeans and push them down his hips to the floor, his boxers going with them. You lean up on your elbows again, watching him with hooded lids, heavy with bliss as he climbs back between your legs, using his palms to trail up your calves and behind your knees to press them into your chest, leaning down to brush his lips against your forehead.

“Such a pretty mama, doing so good for me baby. You ready for my cock?” He asks sweetly, trailing kisses down your cheek to your jaw and finally locks his lips with yours and pulls back to look at you. You nod at him meekly, looking up into his eyes and he tell you to “Use your words, pretty girl."

“Yes, yes please, need your cock. Please fuck me Rafe.” You ask with confidence, chasing his lips with your own, craving the contact. His hands tighten on the backs of your knees, almost folding you too tight. He’s careful not to rest himself on your belly, though. He locks his lips on yours as he lines himself up with your cunt, but collects your wetness on his mushroom tip as he lets go of one knee to guide himself up and down your slit before guiding himself inside you in one smooth thrust. He stills when he’s buried all the way inside and your mouth falls open in a sharp cry.

“Oh, fuck…so fucking deep. Oh my godddd”. You whine, craning your neck up to press your forehead to his, his bangs hanging in your eyes. He pulls back to rest on the backs of his calves, using both hands to once again press your knees beside you in a mating press and tells you to look down at yourself.

“Look how good your pretty pussy swallows me baby. She takes me so well. Shiitttt” You whine in defeat, trying to drift your eyes downward, but at this angle flat on your back, you realize your belly is too large to see past. You huff in defeat and tell him “can’t see, rafe…tummy's too big.”

Something snaps inside of him and he hastily brings a hand behind your neck to grab a fistful of hair from the back of your neck to crane your neck up at an uncomfy angle, and you try thrusting your head back, but he stuffs a pillow behind you instead, tugging your head up farther. “Look down baby. Look at yourself dirty girl. Watch daddy fuck you.” You whine a moan at the name he gives himself and you look down again with the pillow behind you, watching as his cock drags slowly out of you, shiny with your slick before disappearing again. It’s painfully slow and you groan out.

“Fuck, Rafe…so deep, hurts so goooood.” You whine out, hands finding his forearms to steady yourself. The pressure he’s building inside of you is becoming too much and you can’t help but clench around him. He feels it and chuckles, leaning down to breathe against your lips. “Noooooo baby, don’t do that. You can take it, you’re doing so good baby girl don’t push me out.” He’s speaking to you in a higher pitch like he’s coaching you through it, continuing "Just…fucking…take it” punctuating with each thrust his long cock makes inside you, bruising your cervix over and over. You whimper at his words, your nails digging half moons into his skin and you can’t help the mewls and whines that pour out of your mouth.

He starts to fuck into you at a brutal pace, his hips snapping against yours with lewd wet sounds, white cream forming around the base of his shaft as his sock leaks seed into you. “Fuck baby, m’gonna cum…need you to cum too. Can you cum for me?” He asks, lightly tapping your cheek with his hand, too fucked out to hold his stare. You look back down to where he’s disappearing inside your body, his thumb now rubbing your pearl and you clench around him before letting go, pushing out again and gushing around him. He groans and paints the inside of you with his seed, mouth agape with curses and moans pouring out like music to your ears. Hearing Rafe cum was one of your favorite moments together. Getting to hear how blissed out he was to be with you. How you were the one who made him fall over the edge.

He’s breathing heavily, hot breath fanning over your face as he all but collapses on top of you, pressing sloppy kisses to your neck and up to your ear lobe where he nibbles and whispers; “I love you so god damn much baby. Don’t ever wanna hear you question it again, kay?” His voice is lazy and groggy, but you nod eagerly and crane your neck so he’ll look at you.

You’re searching his eyes, finally telling him that “I love you…and I love her too.”

----

NOW

Rafe’s hand on your belly moves to leave your skin but the hand resting atop his keeps it where it is. You break your stare with Sarah to look over to him, his eyes trained on the road but you see the clench in his jaw and cringe on his face, his nose scrunched in revolt at having to listen to you describe that night to his sister.

Your other hand snakes around the back of his neck to cradle the cheek that faces the truck window and you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder to press a gentle kiss his neck. You know how hard it is for him to relive one of the worst nights of his life, knowing that somewhere inside of him almost believes that it was real.

“I’m sorry.” You mouth against his neck and bring your cheek back down to rest on his shoulder.

Your eyes flutter closed before quietly saying “I think I’ve shared enough.” Before opening your eyes again and locking them with Sarah’s, her head nodding briefly and you can see the tears brimming her bottom lids.

It’s a sick thing to talk about, you know you’ve overshared, but it’s reality for you, Rafe and the little girl underneath your hands. It was the only way to really allow her to understand any of this. It’s hard to still give a shit about other people, but you think salvaging an aunt for your daughter isn’t beyond reach. So you’re trying. Whether that’s okay with Rafe or not.

His voice jolts you suddenly. annoyed and tired. “How much longer am I driving here, Sarah?” He asks while keeping his gaze ahead. She nervously fumbles her phone, stuttering with nerves, you watch her hands tremble as she turns her phone upside down and tap it back open. “U-Uhhh, it’s just straight ahead for another mile and then you’re turning left.”

He doesn’t acknowledge her answer, instead following John B’s tail closer, clearly antsy. He huffs out a breath, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Y/N and I are going to the Bahamas after your friends load the cross into that piece of shit. I need you to keep dad occupied until tomorrow.” He’s curt and to the point, looking over at her briefly, Sarah nodding once and saying “Yeah, yeah, okay. I can do that.”

You wonder if you’ve traumatized her, dragged her into your fucked up reality. How could you not have? It was not an easy pill to swallow knowing her father truly was a monster. You think that up until now she thought that family was above all else to him and that he’d prioritize herself and her siblings above all else. You’re a little bit sorry you had to be the one to crush that idealization.

Sarah’s telling him to turn left and as he does, suddenly questioning “Hey Sarah?” almost innocently. You look up at him in wonder. You couldn’t have guessed what came from him next.

Sarah hums as he asks almost petulantly; “You think dad would ever make you kill your kid?” He turns his head to look at her and she looks back at him sharply, sucking a breath between her teeth, taken aback. Your own head flies to look at him and you can’t help but rush his name out of your lips in a scold, and you tense, stomach clenching in unease, shocked tears forming in her eyes and she finally shakes her head. It’s a trap question - that you’re smart enough to know and you know she is too. He doesn’t expect an answer. Because he knows that she knows the answer and that he knows it all the same.

No. Ward would never. And that’s why he wrapped his hands around her neck that night and shoved her underwater. Ward seemingly took away his little girl, so he’d take his away, too.

You wince and it hits you hard that your daughter will not be having a relationship with her aunt. Not if her dad can help it. The hatred he feels for his own sister stems so deep inside of him that allowing the idea of his child to grow to love someone he so deeply hates makes him sick. He will not allow his own flesh and blood the chance to be rejected by her like he had been his entire life.

It was his way of telling you without telling you that no - Sarah would not remain in your life and more importantly, your daughters.

For the first time, you have no rebuttal. Because you finally understand how deep the betrayal and loyalties lie, and there was no way to explain it away or reason differently. And for the first time, you're okay with the outcome.

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