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covenofagatha · 7 months ago

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Nicky's mom has got it going on (Part 4)

Word count: 3700

Warnings: pool sex, fingering, vibrating underwear, almost getting caught, think that's it

A/N: guys i finally wrote it omg the day has arrived

It’s been a week since the Halloween party, a week since your best friend’s mom fucked your brains out.

You wish you could say that you regretted it, but that would be a lie.

Yet every time you hang out with Nicky, you feel your heart squeeze. It would kill him if he found out, and you knew that you would never be able to tell him.

But your thoughts still found their way back to the older woman, the way her fingers felt curling inside you, the way she tasted when she was riding your face.

You weren’t sure when the next time you were going to see her was. School is picking up as you were going into Thanksgiving break soon, and you know Nicky is feeling the stress too.

But the next Saturday, the weather is lovely and Nicky invites you over for a pool day at his house. It’s the first time the New Jersey winter has climbed into the 70s, and you’re both determined to make the most of it.

And you’ll get to see Agatha again.

The thought makes your stomach twist and turn, both with nerves and excitement.

She had dragged you back upstairs after you made that quip about your lover being just ‘alright’ to Nicky and she had put you in your place.

Three orgasms later, she had finally let you leave the room to go back downstairs to the party, but after all the guests left and her son had gone to bed, she came into the guest room so you could return the favor.

The next morning, she was gone from the bed by the time you’d woken up and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed, even though you obviously knew she couldn’t stay. It was risky regardless, having sex with your best friend’s mom with him right down the hall, so there was no need to push it.

And when you had gone downstairs, Nicky was already there, laughing at your disheveled state. Agatha had given you a heated glance, but that had been it.

That was the last time you’d spoken to her.

And now you’re going swimming at their house, where Agatha may or may not be there.

You hope she will, but you do know that she might be working.

Just in case, you put on one of your most flattering bikinis, a purple number that leaves little to the imagination.

It’s a dangerous game to play, especially since Nicky will be there, but you miss the older woman. And you don’t really know where things stand with her, so you figure this will be a great way to find out.

You throw a towel into a bag with some sunscreen and drive over to their house, your heart rate picking up as you get closer.

Nicky opens the door.

“Hey!” He exclaims. “Ready for the first pool day since summer?”

You step into the house, eyes peeled for his mom. “You know it. It’s been too long. I’ve missed the sun.”

No sign of her. You try your best not to feel too down; you knew her working would be a possibility. But the fresh warm air on their back patio makes you temporarily forget about the older woman and you take a deep breath.

Nicky disturbs your moment of peace by cannonballing into the pool, splashing you with water. You glare at him, pretending to be mad, before quickly stripping off your clothes and jumping in as well.

The two of you play around for what seems like forever, and you’ve missed having this much fun with your best friend. With school and work, it seems like the two of you haven’t just hung out in a while, and this was a desperately needed break from all that stress.

“Finally warm enough for a swim, hm?” You hear a voice ring out from the deck. You whirl around to see Agatha Harkness standing there, regal as ever. She makes your mouth run dry when her eyes shift to you, a brow raising ever slightly at the sight of you in the swim suit.

“Wanna join?” Nicky asks and playfully flicks water at his mom. She gasps with mock outrage and then laughs.

“Give me a second to go put on my suit. As long as y/n doesn’t mind if I hop in?” She turns her full attention to you, expectantly waiting for an answer, but your brain has short-circuited at the thought of her in a swimsuit.

“Oh, yeah, no, that would be fine,” you stammer out and she smirks knowingly. When she goes back inside, Nicky douses your face with water.

“Dude, what is going on between you and my mom?” He asks, and you choke, spiraling into a coughing fit.

You’re still struggling to breathe, but you force out: “What do you mean?” Panic grips your heart and you’re so afraid of what he’s going to say next.

“Like, you know, you’re always turning red around her and stuff. Oh my god, do you think she’s hot?” He whispers, eyes widening.

“What?” You snap, protests locked and loaded on your tongue, but he just laughs.

“You’re not the first person to think she’s a MILF. I don’t think she’s into girls though,” he says, fake sadness in his voice, and you almost choke again.

If only he knew.

She sure seemed into girls when her fingers and tongue were buried in your cunt a week ago.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you say hastily and duck underwater to hide your burning cheeks.

When you resurface for air, Agatha is standing there on the deck wearing a one-piece black suit with a low cut revealing quite an eyeful of her magnificent cleavage. You have to clench your teeth together tightly when she gives you a wink before walking down the steps into the water. She lets out an exaggerated moan, surely just to mess with you, at the feel and you have to bite back a whimper at the sound.

She gets all the way to the ground before she pauses. “Shoot, I was going to bring out some lemonade for everyone. Nicky, would you be a dear and go get it? Maybe some snacks too?”

Nicky, ever the mama’s boy, obeys without hesitation. He jumps out of the pool, grabs his towel, and hurries into the house.

Agatha immediately paces on you and you back up until your back hits the wall facing the door, feeling a spark in your stomach at the glint in her eye.

“Hey,” she whispers when she’s a hair away from you and you can’t stop from looking down at her lips.

Her hands come to grasp onto your bare waist and you gasp. “Hi,” you croak, your body already leaning into her touch that you’ve sorely missed this week. She pulls you by your hips into a kiss that you quickly pull away from (after giving in for a second or two, of course). “Nicky could come back at any minute,” you hiss and she just chuckles.

“You didn’t seem too concerned with my son catching us the other night with how loud you were moaning my name,” she teases, dropping her head down to press her lips against the chlorinated skin on your neck. You shudder at the feeling and your head drops back slightly.

The feeling in your belly stirs when she fits a thigh between your legs. “Agatha,” you whimper and slowly roll your hips against the firm muscle. Your hands come up to trace her biceps and she smirks. She presses harder and your lips part, but then she steps back and removes her leg.

“Nicky could come back at any minute,” she throws your words back in your face and you groan.

You chew on your lip and think about it. Pouring lemonade and getting snacks won’t take very long, so it would be better to be careful.

But like she said, that hasn’t stopped either of you before. So you seductively turn around, rest your arms on the deck, and tilt your head over your shoulder while you sway your ass back and forth.

She chuckles darkly and in an instant, her front is against your back and her hand dips down around your body to play with the edge of your bottoms.

“Are you sure you want to play this game, sweetheart?” She asks, voice low in your ear, and you nod eagerly. Her fingers crawl inside your suit and she finds your clit immediately, rubbing small circles around it.

Your head falls back against hers as you let out a small noise. You’ve missed her hands on you so much.

She continues her administrations, dipping a finger down every so often to collect wetness from your pussy. Even in the water, she can feel how turned on you’ve become and her teeth graze your earlobe. She keeps drawing out small gasps from your mouth with her movements and she finally has enough of her teasing and slides her middle finger into you.

“God, Agatha,” you groan, grinding your hips to get her deeper.

She tuts. “What was that?”

The words come tumbling out of your mouth. “Fuck, Mommy, please, I need more.” She gives a sound of approval and slides another finger in, curling them perfectly.

She’s panting open-mouthed against your neck, fucking her two fingers into you so well, when all of a sudden, the sliding glass door opens. Agatha and you both freeze, and your heart pounds.

“Hey, mom,” Nicky calls, walking out while reading the label on a box of crackers. Agatha gives you a quick thrust with her fingers and you bite your lip before you give yourselves away. “Do you think these are okay? The expiration date was–” He finally looks up to find his mom pressing his best friend against the pool wall. “–what are you guys doing?”

You feel like you’re going to throw up.

“Her swimsuit top was getting loose so I was just helping her tie it tighter,” Agatha says behind you, stroking your clit with her thumb, and you tense. You’re not sure you’ve breathed since Nicky walked out. Thankfully, from the way you’re angled and with how far away Nicky is standing, he can’t see Agatha’s hand down the front of your suit.

He seems to buy it though. “So crackers or no crackers?”

And you’re finally able to exhale. You can feel the tension literally seep out of your body.

But Agatha shifts forward so think about it, which forces her fingers in deeper, and you clamp your teeth down so hard on your tongue that you taste blood.

“You know, I’m getting hungrier, why don’t we make something–” But she cuts off in a gasp, because in the middle of her sentence, you clench your walls around her as payback. “For lunch?” She finishes weakly, but Nicky nods in agreement, none the wiser. “So we’ll get out and get dressed, yeah?” She asks you, and you catch her eye and give your hips a tiny roll. She gives you a warning look and the corners of your mouth tug into a smirk.

It feels good to gain a bit of leverage over her sometimes.

“Okay, sounds good, I’ll be inside whenever you weirdos decide to come in,” Nicky says, having had enough of whatever you and his mom are doing.

When the door finally closes, Agatha sinks her teeth into your shoulder and you moan loudly. “That’s for teasing,” she says and pulls her hand out of your cunt. You whine at the emptiness and turn around to face her, aching for release.

“But–” you start and she splashes you gently to shut you up.

“Maybe later. But we need to go in now before Nicky actually gets suspicious.”

You grumble, but you know she has a point, so you begrudgingly get out of the pool, Agatha behind you, and you grab your towel to dry off. As you’re looking through your tote bag that you brought, you realize something.

“Fuck, I forgot underwear,” you curse, mostly to yourself, but the older woman happens to be right next to you and hears it.

You know she’s smirking before you even look at her. “You can borrow some of mine,” she says, all sickly sweet, and you just know she’s up to something.

Once the two of you are sufficiently dry, you follow her back into the house and up the stairs to her bedroom. She had told Nicky that she was letting you borrow something and you figured it was going to just be a quick trip.

Which is unfortunate for you, because you are still dripping. You can feel the mess between your thighs with each step and it’s becoming uncomfortable.

But you’re good, and you just stand there awkwardly while Agatha roots around in her drawer, shoving aside a multitude of other pairs that you’re sure would work perfectly, until she pulls out a lacy black pair and holds them out to you.

“Put these on,” she says, grinning wolfishly, and you hesitantly reach out and take them. Just to tease, or at least maybe level the playing field for whatever she has planned, you keep eye contact while you reach behind you and untie your top.

Her jaw slackens when you finally peel the fabric from your breasts and you can see her hands twitch, like it’s painful for her to not just reach out and touch you.

And then her lips part when you start to slide your bottoms down and you can feel her eyes burning into you. When they’re around your feet, you kick them at her and she catches them in one hand, staring at them like her brain just shut off.

“Mom!” Nicky’s voice rings through the heated silence in the room and Agatha shakes out of her daze.

She fluffs her hair with her hand and throws your suit back to you. “Get dressed and come back downstairs quickly,” she orders, stripping naked and throwing on a crewneck and sweatpants, slipping something you can’t discern from the underwear drawer quickly into her pocket, before you even have a chance to ogle.

Agatha runs out of the room and you hear her footsteps on the stairs and you turn back to the underwear she gave you. It’s thick and you can tell it is some special pair, but you have no idea what it is.

So you put on your jean shorts and your t-shirt, comb through your wet hair, and go back downstairs.

Agatha is helping Nicky make grilled cheeses but they both turn around when they hear you enter the kitchen.

“There you are,” Nicky comments, while his mom gives you a wink.

You walk over to them and rest your hands on the counter, observing what they’re doing. “What can I do to help?”

And that’s when you feel it: vibrations against your clit that have you gasping and doubling over in shock and at the intensity.

Nicky rushes to your side and cries your name out, but when the rumbling suddenly stops and you’re able to lift your head, you see Agatha wearing a wicked smirk.

The underwear.

That’s why she wanted you to put them on, so she could tease you right in front of her son without actually risking being caught touching you. The thing she put in h

Fuck.

“Are you okay?” Nicky asks again, shaking your shoulders. You stand up, instinctively bracing yourself against the countertop just in case she tries to do it again.

You shoot Agatha a look before answering. “Yeah, sorry, just cramps,” you lie. To his credit, he doesn’t seem to be grossed out, he just helps you over to sit down on the couch.

“Why don’t you just rest then and let us take care of the food?” He offers sweetly and you give him a smile.

If only his mother was as nice as him.

The second Nicky walks away, the vibrations start again and you have to bite down on your finger to keep from moaning. You can feel Agatha’s eyes on you as you start to sweat from how good it feels and your face is burning.

In typical Agatha fashion, she teases you while she and Nicky finish making lunch by turning it up and then down or making it pulse against your clit. You can feel just how absolutely soaked you are and you squirm back and forth on the couch, silently begging for more.

“Do you want anything besides the sandwich?” Nicky asks you and you open your mouth to respond but have to instantly snap it shut when Agatha turns it up even more.

You take a deep breath and try to ignore the buzzing against the most sensitive part of your body. “I’m okay, thanks.” Your voice trembles from the effort of staying composed and you can see Agatha’s shoulders shaking with contained laughter.

Nicky brings over two plates and sets one down in front of you. He sits in the chair adjacent to the couch while Agatha plops down next to you.

“You doing okay, hon?” She asks, reaching over to pat your leg and her touch makes you clench around nothing. You dig your fingernails into your palms to stop yourself from grabbing her hand and shoving it down your shorts.

The teasing is maddening.

“Yeah, good,” you rasp, glaring at her while simultaneously pleading with your eyes to be let out of your misery.

It’s like she knows exactly when you’re about to cum because she either stops the vibrations entirely or slows them down to where you can barely feel anything at all.

You try to focus on eating the grilled cheese, but you can’t stop your hips from undulating, no matter how hard you try. It gets so bad that Agatha throws a blanket over you, muttering something about how cold you look so Nicky doesn’t question it.

With the extra privacy, you’re free to shift your weight more to angle the vibrations better against your clit. You can feel the rumbles throughout your entire pussy and you can feel your mind slowly losing the ability to think.

You set down your plate, maybe three bites taken out of the food, and toss the other half of the blanket over Agatha’s legs. Thankfully, Nicky is flipping through the TV channels so he doesn’t notice.

Agatha watches your face carefully when your hand digs into her thigh through her pants as she turns up the intensity, watching every little twitch of your eyebrows as you try to keep it together.

And then, she suddenly reaches over under the blanket to cup your pussy and press the crotch of the panties against you hard, and a moan tears its way out of your throat. You have to fake a cough to cover it up, but luckily Nicky doesn’t look over.

Her hand is gone as soon as it appeared and you’re left rhythmlessly stuttering your hips, frantically chasing the high you so desperately need.

But it doesn’t come.

Agatha keeps you on edge for almost twenty minutes, turning it up and down and off completely and then back on, and you’re practically panting into the blanket because you can’t breathe too loudly.

It’s the sweetest torture one could bear.

And then finally, finally, Nicky stands up and announces that he has to go to the bathroom.

The moment he leaves the room, you literally throw yourself into Agatha’s lap, straddling her waist and grinding against her, each movement against her stomach pressing the toy in the underwear harder to your clit.

“Agatha, Mommy, please,” you gasp against her lips and her fingers make their way down into your shorts. Instead of dipping into the underwear though, they go in-between them and your jeans so she can directly position the piece right where she wants it.

Her other finger fumbles with something in her pocket, the remote, you’re guessing, and you sink your teeth into her neck before the high-pitched whine can escape at the heightened intensity.

“Better hurry up,” she taunts and you buck your hips at her tone. “You don’t want my son coming back in to find you cumming all over his mommy, do you?”

You shake your head at the rhetorical question and focus on how the vibrations feel against you. You can feel them throughout your whole body and you’re getting so close.

“Please, please, I need more,” you beg, having been kept on the edge for so long that you don’t think you can cum from just this.

But Agatha always knows what you need, even after only spending one night with you.

She pushes the underwear to the side to slide three fingers into you easily, curves them just right, and that coupled with the vibration still against your clit makes you explode.

You bite her again to muffle your cries while you grind, dragging your orgasm out as much as you can.

And then the toilet flushes and you hear the sink running. By the time it turns off, you’ve wiped your sweaty forehead and are sitting back in your normal spot, readjusting the blanket.

Nicky walks back in just as Agatha pops her fingers into her mouth, sucking the taste of you off. Your body clenches weakly at the sight of that and of course she sees it and smirks.

“Everything okay in here? Thought I heard something,” Nicky asks. You keep your eyes peeled on the TV even though you can see Agatha’s smile out of the corner of your eye.

“Just the show,” she says casually and Nicky accepts it, settling back down in the chair.

Agatha leans closer and chuckles quietly into your ear. “Next time, you need to make less noise.”

And it’s impossible to miss the way your body shivers at the promise of a next time.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along #covsfics

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cassiebones · 6 months ago

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nobody can convince me that agatha and rio wouldn't have had more children had nicky not died, had Death been allowed to have living, semi-mortal children. They only lasted like 50 years before their eldest was born. They would have continued to make more babies for the next three hundred and beyond. Every time one of their children is old enough to basically fend for theirself, Agatha feels that longing for a baby and Rio can't deny her.

It takes three or four kids before Agatha has a kid that looks as much like her as Nicky looks like Rio. When this child, Mari (short for Mariposa), reaches adulthood, she develops that same little gap between her teeth (in modern times, she would have gotten braces, but she was born in the late 1700's okay, give her a break) so she does look somewhat like Rio, but she has bright blue eyes and her hair curls like Agatha's. She also has a similar power set to Agatha, which Agatha fosters as much as she could because nobody ever did that for her.

By modern day, they probably have about twenty kids, the youngest of which is still small enough to carry as they move into Westview, acting like a modern lesbian couple. They are single-handedly repopulating the witch community that Agatha killed off.

But they're happy and in love. All their children are pretty well-adjusted. Nicky still has a big heart. He's probably a doctor somewhere, moving around when people start to question why he doesn't age - at least until Eternals are accepted and superheroes just become more commonplace. Nobody questions why he looks like he's thirty-five when he should be closer to his seventies (nobody knows what his true age is) and he still visits his mothers. Due to the nature of his job, he doesn't always appreciate when Rio visits him at work.

Three of their children train as Reapers with Rio. The rest are scattered around the world, living their lives, but they always call their mothers, or they visit with their own partners and children.

The youngest three are juveniles, so they live with their mothers in the suburbs. They're as mischievous as Rio, causing havoc wherever they go, but they're studious, too, like Agatha, so they get good grades and do well in their magic studies.

When Wanda tries to start her bullshit, Agatha stops her, putting a pin in her grief. Instead of draining her power, she becomes a kind of mentor to Wanda. This Agatha never lost her son, but she does have a shit ton of trauma from her youth resulting from her own coven just refusing to teach her, and she recognizes Wanda as another untrained witch. So she trains her. She teaches her how to use the powers that she's familiar with. She gathers other witches (Lilia, Alice, Jen) to help her where they can. They converse with Stephen Strange on how to best help Wanda in her grief and magic.

I really wish Agatha's What If...? episode had been "What if Agatha had never lost her son?" rather than the Hollywood episode. Don't get me wrong: it was a fun fucking episode. But I just wish we'd seen more of Agatha being happy with her family.

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #agathario

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occamstfs · 7 months ago

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Talismen III: Sorry For The Backwash

A gym crush on Simon gone wrong leads Tim to get in way over his head in the pursuit of gains and satisfaction; Soon enough the whole gym finds themselves wanting.

Okay I went a little crazy with this one, steamy muscle growth, hair growth, and corruption galore- Tim really spreads the love haha! It’s about the length of Talismen Beginnings. Hope you enjoy this plot advancing chapter, was quite fun to write! Like previously, the penultimate poll will drop on Sunday the 15th! -Occam!

And so Simon finally arrives at the gym. Elsewhere in town Nicky sends an asshole careening towards the discovery of a better self, and perhaps launches his friend into shoes a few sizes larger and a wolverine eared beanie before heading off to grab some coffee. Back at the gym his boyfriend is never too far from the front of Simon’s slow plodding mind, after sending one last selfie to entice his beau, he puts down his affection to finally pick up some weights.

Sandwiched in between a Jamba Juice and a bookstore, Simon ignores the static that fills his mind as almost saccharine familiarity bats away the eerie discomfort that he’s never actually been here before. He finds serenity as set to getting his blood pumping, delighting in the feeling of burning strain as with each thrust his new body finds itself more adept at exercise. In no time at all he moves about the gym with the expert precision and graceful ease that sculpting such an impressive form would require. His almost vacant eyes don’t notice the hungry stare of a nearby twink who has been shadowing him from the second he walked in.

It’s not that Timothy is leering at the beyond sexy man, I mean how could anyone avoid staring, er, appreciating such an impressive form- The fact that Tim continues to happenstance choose machines directly next to the titan is pure coincidence and any charge that he’s trying to catch the man’s eye are pure slander. The blush that burns across his face the first time Simon’s eyes land on him is perhaps more evidential.

The jock scratches the back of his head as he addresses the twink, exposing a sweaty pit that certainly does not help with Tim’s now quivering knees, “Hey uhhh lil guy, I think I forgot my water at home huhuh!” Tim laughs alongside the man though he certainly doesn’t notice as he continues on with his ask, “would you mind if I borrowed yours?” Tim’s eyes widen with fear as his neck locks trying to decide if he should nod in the affirmative or shake to suggest he’d not mind anything that the hunk would ask of him. Nor does it help that he’s unable to get a full word out. Simon stares, mouth agog as the twink stumbles through a few giggly syllables, “Ah ha! Weluhm, I heek!”

Giving up on communicating like a human being, he averts his eyes shyly and raises his hydroflask. Simon takes it rougher than he intended and Tim promptly forces his hands to his crotch to adjust shorts and hide his excitement before meekly returning to stare at labored gulps and the few trailing droplets of water that escape and spill down into Simon’s sweaty beard. Timothy almost vibrates from the need to be topped by the man standing above him, totally unaware that the titan in question has eyes for his boyfriend alone.

Delivering the jug of water back, Simon quickly thanks the twink and tries to joke, “Thanks little bro! My uhh, Nicky swears I’d forget my hat if it weren’t screwed on huhuh!” He pauses and scratches at his stubble, “Or no that’s not the joke? Uh-” He crosses his arms and half-heartedly flexes as he loses himself in labored thought, trying to remember how it goes.

In the meantime Tim takes the unintended hint that Simon’s taken and sighs to himself. He did figure that the man was too good to be true, c’est la vie- In the meantime, while his flask is open he may as well hydrate himself. Raising it to his lips he watches Simon quiet a burp and wipe his lip, “Oh uhh, sorry for the backwash dude-” This almost makes him race to drink it even quicker. No time to introspect however for as soon as it spills onto his tongue, Tim’s eyes dilate. The twink almost chokes from the speed at which he struggles to down more water than one should mid-workout.

Never before now has the small man attempted to chug something at this rate, or at all really, though driven by lusty thoughts and burning delight as it soars down his throat he is suddenly swallowing like the best of them. His chest tightens and his stomach burns as he finally gasps for air, coughing up water and doing his best to not vom. Immediately concerned, Simon puts his meaty hands on the small man’s shoulders, sending a shiver down his spine as the twink grits his teeth and covers his mouth to quiet a moan.

His heart races and his breathing accelerates as something alien begins to build within him. Tim can’t hear Simon’s worried questions as pressure begins to pound and he tries to stand. He feels a compulsion to move, to grow. Exactly like Nicky’s boyfriend mindlessly doing pushups on the cold ground, Tim feels compelled beyond reason to work out the energy that is beginning to build in his veins.

Never one to seriously weight train he doesn’t know why or how he ends up on a bench press, but when his bleary eyes turn to see Simon loading weights on he’s filled with a drive greater than he could understand. “Are you sure you can handle this much lil guy?” Lil Guy. Tim grimaces as he feels his veins bulge in response. It matters not if it's from irritation or lust. He can do this. He can do way more than this. His soft hands grasp the iron bar and raise it. Despite his confidence however, just as soon it leaves the rack it comes crashing down, wont to heed the ever-persuasive call of gravity.

Just before Simon has the chance to spot him, Tim calls the grunt off, groaning under the weight “I can- do IT” Simon gasps as he sees the bar immediately begin to rise. The man’s stick thin arms shake with effort as they raise it high enough to return the weight. When Simon goes to pull it back and remove weight he sees rage in Tim’s eyes and hesitates. Timothy then forces another rep, veins bulge up his neck as Simon unmistakably sees new muscle begin to bulge larger under the twink’s shirt. He forces it into the air once more and with a grunt the bar bounces higher.

There’s the sound of fabric beginning to tear as a shirt that was chosen to show off his lithe form cannot contain the required pecs that this bench press demands. Each impossible repetition packs more meat onto his body. Simon gives tips to the newbie and smiles as he sees the bar rapidly grow more stable, bony arms suddenly no longer left out as small biceps peak and struggle to follow the technique laid out by the clearly experienced jock.

After arbitrarily doing enough at the bench press, without a word Tim sets the bar back on the rack and wanders over to free weights. Simon quickly dismantles the weight left on and wipes down the bench, proud of how much of a sweat his apparent lil trainee has already worked up. By the time he makes it to observe Timothy’s corner of the gym he again sees the man trying to bite way over his level, though once more before he can intervene he sees the impossible.

Tim takes a swig of his water and his arms grow meatier, sending tears up the already tight sleeves. Jaw clenched, he curls probably the heaviest weight he’s ever lifted as if it were nothing, with a grunt he does it again, and again. Simon grins as he sees the man's technique improve without a word, the strained sleeves on his mini-tee shred to nothing as they simply cannot contain the power Tim now holds within himself.

“Dude! That’s killer!” addressed by Simon directly, awareness returns to Tim’s eyes and the weight clatters to the floor, thankfully missing his feet as he yelps. Simon quickly rushes over clicking his tongue, “Ah you can’t be doing that bro haha! Clearly got a lot to learn about gym etiquette eh? Huhuh!” He puts the weights back up and pats Tim on the back. Staring up at the man Tim feels the need to be more rising once more, his attention goes to his flask and his mouth feels dry. Thirst controlling him he goes to drink only to find it already empty.

Simon nods and apologizes for drinking so much earlier, “Ah man, guess that’s as good a sign as any to call it huh?” Tim’s heart skips a beat as an almost existential fear fills him at the idea that Simon was about to leave him. As if he were on the precipice of losing it all. “Wait! Would you um, mind if you showed me a few more tips tomorrow?” Simon tilts his head and Tim hungrily waits for his answer, a red tinge hiding in his eyes that Simon’s far too distracted to notice. Grinning he starts to nod, “Y’know I always thought I’d be a good teacher huhuh! I’ll be in pretty early tomorrow so you just come say hi and we’ll get goin!”

With that he pats the twink-no-more on the back and congratulates him on the hustle, “Great work today Tom! I swear you look fuckin’ massive with this pump! You should take a few to check yourself out dude!” Blankly smiling, unaware as Tim slightly glowers at being called the wrong name, he ruffles the shorter man’s hair and then grabs his gym bag to head home, “See you tomorrow lil dude!” Tim smiles and starts to say farewell though Simon’s already halfway gone by the time he reopens his eyes. Taking a second to pout all anxieties and fears fall away as he turns to see his new reflection.

His expression drops as he realizes his shirt has totally been discarded at some point during his pump-fueled fugue state. Taking in the new power that writhes and flexes underneath his skin, his fingers trace abs and follow veins as before cupping his powerful pecs, almost burning hot enough to steam his sweat. He tries to swallow but comes short as his dry mouth and impossible thirst remains. He twitches and his eyes shift red as the only recourse is more than clear. He needs more.

The next morning Tim drives to the gym before it opens to sit and wait for Simon to arrive. Every so often he turns on his windshield wipers to remove condensation accrued from his passive body heat alone. Eventually when he sees the brute jogging up with his gym bag in tow Tim quickly springs to action to force a fake meet-cute. He knows the jock’s taken but can’t blame a guy for trying.

Counting on Simon’s general lack of awareness he races to hide just out of sight and bump into his new trainer as he rounds the corner. Without a hitch he successfully bumps into the shirtless man and is rewarded by getting the behemoth’s sweat all over his even skimpier gym clothes. Simon, thinking nothing ill of this must be accident, remains happily unaware of any untoward motivation from his new trainee. Already grinning at the prospect of working out, he just reaches out and ruffles the man’s hair again, “Gotta watch where you’re goin’ little guy huhuh!”

Tim in turn babbles off a good-morning as he is struck woozy from such close proximity to the man, his b.o. easily more than clouding his mind. Barely able to stay his tongue from licking the sweat off of Simon, Tim’s unrelenting thirst compels him to offer the beast another drink from his hydroflask. Like a dog showing his owner a present, Simon quickly goes to grab his own water bottle, almost tearing off his pants as the bottle is attached by a carabiner. With a laugh he explains, “Thank ya dude! But after I told him about yesterday Nicky made sure I’d not forget huhuh! He was so worried that I’d be dehydrated and all. Little worryworm, or- Uh? Worrywart?” Simon laughs and shakes off the brief confusion and just rubs the water bottle gently, thinking about his lover.

Timothy rolls his eyes, jealousy breaking him from his musk-based trance, “Okay! Whatever- Shall we get started then?” Simon returns his attention to the man in front of him and begins to escort him inside. Throwing an arm across the smaller man’s shoulders he explains his plans for their workout today. Tim hears none of it however as he instead zeroes in on the sweat dripping down his back. The newly made twunk grunts and stretches his neck as he feels his traps cramp under the weight and wet of Simon’s arm.

Feeling sweat drip from Simon’s exposed pit down his right arm, Tim grimaces as suddenly his body pulls that direction. With a glance he sees it hang bulkier, thicker. Tim can’t hide the glee painted across his face as he realizes even proximity is enough for him to parasitize growth from the dreamboat he apparently isn’t to have. Simon looks down perplexed as he feels Tim grab at his calloused hand and rub his arm down his back, smirking and twitching as he does so. “Uhh Tim?” A moment later he grunts and stretches, his back widens, straining his shirt.

Simon’s used to being confused so he doesn’t try to make sense as his new trainee suddenly shoots up half a foot in height, his midriff exposed as his arms stretch longer, muscle fibers straining before pulsing to remain as thick as they were before they sprouted. The jock pauses and closes his eyes as despite his best efforts, he sees what happens and something in the back of his mind knows he has seen it before. Tim, in between basking in his new power and languishing in the sensual growth still happening across his body grabs a clearly sweat stained towel from Simon’s bag and ties it around his waist, hoping to spread growth to his hitherto neglected glutes and thighs.

When Simon indeed returns to awareness, shaking off his stupor he see’s just that. Now supported on tree-trunk thighs he barely needs to angle down to make eye contact with his trainee. When he sees the man’s cock pulse through his gym shorts he purses his lips as he for the first time realizes that his trainee might be into him. Not that that’s a rarity of course, he’s quite the prize.

The quickest glance towards Tim’s eyes makes it more than clear that he may have something a little darker than your average crush. There is something deep, a hunger for something greater. Simon’s usual confidence wavers, briefly concerned about his client’s conflict of interest. He did promise to help with this session though. Chewing on his cheek, Simon fights against better judgment to stick to his word, opting to help as promised. Getting started he sets to lead the man who increasingly looks like he doesn’t need help over to the free weights.

In no time at all Simon watches as Tim works up a pump greater than any he’s ever seen, baring his own of course. He struggles to offer feedback as the should-be twink increasingly feels the need to butt heads, to peacock rather than try to train. When Simon sees red flashes in the man’s eyes, alarms once more begin to go off in the back of his head, but then his trainee surges just that much larger, his pumped arms bulge that much bigger, and he is instead distracted by how quickly his student seems to be advancing. “Guess I can’t call ya little dude any more huh?”

Tim smirks and flexes at his trainer, biting his tongue as everything within him feels the need to lob pick up lines at him. His arms tense as he barely stops himself from simply pouncing on the man, to do everything within his increased power to seize his fountain of growth forevermore. He clears his throat and ignores how off he sounds, his sing-songy performative pitch replaced by a harsh wolfish baritone, “Yo bro, not to pry- cause I know you got your little bitch, er- boyfriend. But-" When Tim calls Nicky a bitch Simon suddenly shifts deathly serious "Can you just get to the point Tim.”

The new jock averts his eyes, annoyed at being interrupted though knowing that he is not the one with the power here, “Look I’m just sayin-” he goes to grab Simon’s hand, “I’m sure he’d understand if you wanted to have a little fun.” Feeling Simon’s sweaty hand grasped, he shivers as new calluses develop on his own. His kindly trainer almost grimaces at his advances and pulls away before growth can continue to pile on. Simon purses his lips and looks away, “Look, uhh- I’m not so sure we’re a great match. But, uhh-” Tim watches gears slowly turn as Simon struggles for an eloquent way to effectively dump him, “But what.”

Tim’s eyes narrow as if he’s readying to strike, his thoughts race as everything in him suddenly goes on alert. Chords entirely cut to the twink he once was, he feels Simon is the only tether towards further growth, towards becoming more of who he must be. When he sees the generally jovial man sigh and go for a sip of water to give him time to gather thoughts, Tim’s defcon-one strategy becomes clear. Seeing Simon start to pull away he makes up his mind. If he’s going to lose access then he must get as much as he can right now.

His hand goes to curl into a fist and he swings, not at Simon of course, but the container of nectar he holds to his lips. Hurt beyond measure Simon watches as his new bottle spills all over the avaricious body-builder. His mouth is open but he clearly makes no further effort to drink it as it rains down mostly onto his chest. Tim falls to the floor and his hands shake as he rubs the water into his rapidly bulging, pounding pecs. Simon stares rapt with judgement as the man’s muscular chest bursts free from a shirt that was already painted on.

Individual muscle fibres pulse and expand as he convulses on the floor. His shoulder awkwardly forces itself upward as growth enacts itself across his body in swathes disparate and seemingly painful. Despite the nigh assault, Simon immediately abandons everything to kneel down and help the man as his body contorts and writhes, arms stretching and building unevenly as deeper grunts issue forth from a widening throat. Red light shines through eyes clamped shut and drool drips from clenched teeth.

After a few minutes of heaving breaths and impossible expansion, Tim eventually relaxes on the cold gym floor and looks up at Simon with a smirk. Content that the man is fine and, at least for the moment, ignoring the impossible transformation that he has witnessed as a means of survival. In defiance of some shred of self that recognizes the transformation he ignores the flash of red in his eyes that stares at and into the man on the floor and scoffs, “Good luck finding a new trainer.” He pauses, wanting desperately to say something clever but is waylaid by his duller wit, his gentle spirit, and the terrifying feeling at the back of his mind that something has similarly irrevocably changed who he is. He slowly shakes his head and wanders off to the shower.

Tim crawls after him pleading him to stay around though even as he struggles to crawl after the man he cannot help but realize that he seems to have bitten off more than he can chew. That is until he sees Simon go into the locker room rather than straight out of the gym. His mouth reflexively contorts to a smile and his heart skips a beat. There remains more for his greedy hands to take. His drive for more compels him to fight through pain, through soreness. He can’t help himself. He cannot stop himself.

Simon stands. He tries to sneak though every step elicits a quivering gasp of pain. He bites his forearm to quiet his pained pants as he presses forward towards Simon’s discarded gym bag. Seeing the used jockstrap lying on top his free hand goes to grasp it before neurons even fire in recognition of what it is. Adrenaline and static sear through him great enough to feel pain no longer as he doesn’t stumble but sprint out of the locker room, out of the gym, and into his truck. He doesn’t know how but he’s wearing it before the keys turn in the ignition.

He has drunk after Simon, he has rubbed the man's sweat over his skin, he has washed his chest with his spit. These are nothing compared to his wearing the man’s discarded, post-workout jock. Were he struck by lightning he would have less energy coursing through him, his whole being vibrates and his vision tints red as by the time he’s home he can scarcely exist for what is flowing through him, what is overflowing out of him. He cannot think for the pleasure and power coursing through his veins, mainlining into his nervous system through the purloined jockstrap.

So overwhelmed is he it’s almost as if he’s unable to maintain what has been thus far been bestowed unto him. As if he were becoming less defined, less real. While his muscles compress and his mind sits on the precipice of total erasure, it is clear what aspect of self is benefitting from his impossible situation. When he finally realizes how dire- how tenuous a hold he has on what is happening to him, what is becoming of him as his blood begins to burn he discards the jock and his eyes land upon a cock that may be the closest man has ever come to perfection.

Pubes like a burning bush around an obelisk of a dick. His hands twitch as they go to grab it and they burn with pleasure as Timothy is filled with feeling so intense that he sees only red, he feels only static, he hears nothing but the rushing of blood through his ears. Through gnashing teeth he is no longer aware of having he unknowingly does the only thing that could save him. Just as he begins to lose the capacity for thought at all, he stumbles upon a wish. i wish i could share this- and with that whatever staticky magic, whatever inhuman energy flowing through him from Simon, from Nicky, is discharged.

He awakens on the edge of orgasm sitting on his couch, as soon as he’s conscious enough to move he loses control. Painting his torso as well as the wall behind him with cum his breathing stutters as he stares at his dripping cock. His hands shake as he reaches for it, twitching it stands higher and crisscrossed by fleshy veins and surrounded by a garden of pubes distinctly thicker than how he keeps them. Grunting as he convulses to prevent himself from cumming again he hears his voice echo through the room deeper, stretching he finds his limbs are longer. His mind dances with the idea that what just happened to him may not have just been some all-too-real dream after all, but some true working of magic.

His hands go to cup his thicker balls, and as they are graced by a callused hand that seems to have done perhaps one full day of work before, his hips rut and he loses control once more. Splashes of cum decorate his hairless stomach and chest that currently maintain only the most superficial of muscle and vascularity. Taking in the mess he has made of himself, Tim’s eyes widen as he observes something new beginning. Like tears of god the cum decorating his chest has begun to seed bountiful thick curls everywhere it lands. Rapidly do jungles of hair sprout up across his cumstained body enough to perhaps rival that of Simon’s. Though as he sees his newfound ability to change himself, Simon loses such prominent status from his mind.

His hands, having been incredibly near to the epicenter of his powerful release are certainly not spared from his loosed loads. Thick hair begins to trail up his forearms, accompanied by veins even thicker than he held during his peak performance with Simon. Shaking off whatever anxieties remained from his near cosmic experience, as well as any desire to understand what is happening to him, he gleefully begins to rub his cum into pecs as they begin to amass weight and strength once more. This time they are artfully decorated with curls he has longingly lusted after since he first stumbled upon his proclivities towards masculinity.

While his fingers dance and sculpt his body into what he has always wanted to fuck and only recently hungered for himself, he becoems aware that his plans have returned to the headspace wherein he truly lost himself. In between dragging through a treasure trail that now acts as a highway from his neck to his cock, playing with nipples that hang pertly from a chest no man would be ashamed to have, playing with lengthy pit hair that holds a permanent undeniable aura (Read: musk), he overcomes his prideful shortfalls, shaking off his need to personally be more- shaking off his obsession with seeking fulfillment in power, in forcing some jock he doesn’t even know to acknowledge and fulfill him he is struck with the desire that let him persist. I Wish I Could Share This.

Taking time to spread his seed across his jawline and ensure his face has stubble, Tim stands to feet and smirks as pre continues to drip down from his cock. Curls spread up from his wider feet to meet with the forest of hair that coats his calves, which rush to surge and match the density of hair that ushers forth from his thighs and crotch. He stretches and groans with a clear mission laid ahead of him. Propelled with the desire supernatural, bestowed upon him by himself, he throws on as little clothing as he can get away with and wanders out from his home. No need to choose a destination as some will greater than himself already pulls him closer.

Before he’s made it down the street he grimaces and removes his shoes, sizes too small already; they're simply too tight for any continued charade of decency to be worth it. When hairy toes just as soon burst forth from his socks he grins and presses onward, delighted at the prospect, the ideal of never being contained. Each step forward stains the earth beneath him with a sweaty footprint. Each mark a proof of currently barely perceptible change that he has wrought, should someone investigate too intently they are sure to find themselves pulled in and changed as well. Though such contagion is paltry compared to what is to happen when he finally reaches his destination.

His entrance to the gym is unheralded and yet as soon as he steps in the doors every man drops what they are doing to stare. The hunger red hot behind his eyes returns as he meets their gaze and smiles. The receptionist starts to try and speak, some drilled in procedure acting subconsciously. When Timothy turns to observe the quiet voice he freezes up once more before he’s filled with confidence and a burning need to be closer. The receptionist barrels over the counter and races to be the first to reach the titan, to be the first to receive his gifts.

Mouths drop as all watch Tim effortlessly tear the shirt from the man before pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. Wherever Tim haphazardly makes contact with the young man muscle bloats and hair blooms. The manicured fur on his chest rapidly spreads and races to meet with bountiful gardens that push out from underneath his arms. Stubble on his face explodes into a full beard as new prickly strands push out from pores appearing in between pores, never to be combated by a razor again. His chest pushes larger as he struggles to push in closer to Tim than physically possible, as if he were trying to make their forms one. Shoulders just wider and arms hang closer to the earth as biceps form and hands expand.

The receptionist’s eyes roll back as Tim’s graceful and rough fingers slowly twirl downward from playing with chest hair. Following the directions of a new thick treasure trail he finds a bush of pubes spreading further and growing more tangled by the second. Even the lightest touch is enough for the changing man to lose control. Overwhelmed as Tim was from the jockstrap, the young man stumbles backwards, away from the eidolon and into the crowd. Immediately he bumps into another would be congregant to the beyond-alluring gym-rat.

Still not satiated, if such a thing is even possible, the receptionist immediately turns and begins frotting against the wanting man he wantonly bumped into. He does not see his eyes cloud over nor the red mist that falls from his mouth as he makes out with a longtime regular to the gym. When he begins to feel his new beard scratch and tangle with stubble that his suitor had not seconds ago it only makes him all the more excited. Soon enough others see the receptionist begin to spread changes himself, and when they see some clumsy jock bump into the man still tongue deep in receptionist and shiver as he too begins to grow, all Hell breaks loose.

In short order every man in the gym finds themselves changing beyond their wildest dreams. Musky bodies grind against musky bodies. Pecs push into pecs as men who haven’t even realized they liked body hair suddenly find themselves rapt in the heady delight. Newly hairy stomachs and chests scratch against the sweaty curls of other men who can scarcely recall their names. Mouths find mouths, pits unleash b.o. great enough to fill the gym with a cloud of musk. In no time at all dicks are unleashed as they grow too large to be contained by briefs, jocks, or boxers as cum begins to join the litany of other bodily fluids that fly through the air.

Tim simply watches in reverie as men continue to frot, fuck, bloat, and grow hairier around him. When he sees sensibility or awareness return he simply offers a helping hand and watches bemused as their dumb smiles return. He wanders through tangled bodies exalting himself to find each and every one greater than they were before his guiding hand. Minds consumed with nothing further than the sensual pleasure he offers, not even present enough to question why they had ever prioritized anything else to begin with.

For a moment Tim himself has some second guesses as to what he has done. Seeing a friend he almost recognizes shake as he grows a foot in height as his man bun retracts into nothing as a beard shades his face. Watching the prim bottom manhandle a jock who is changing far slower than himself gives him pause. Watching men bloat up and become new vectors of transformation. Is this better? Just as soon as the words come they vacate as he takes a deep breath of the scarlet shaded musky air. Of course it’s better, what could one want more than everlasting pleasure.

Soon enough he doesn’t even remember that he was the one to begin the orgy that this gym descends into, it is simply something that happened, that is happening. New gym goers file in as the day goes by and immediately find their place in the bacchanalia. Outside the juice bar and bookstore the gym was wedged in between corrupt into a protein shake shack and sex shop, perfect for the gym rats and himbos to stumble into whenever they need to take a breather before returning to the fracas. The gym becomes a canary in the coal mine of a world that is soon to come, though it is not the inly of epicenter of change in this city.

Nicky’s wish for Simon to have confidence in himself has had repercussions beyond the pale, though that is what happens when one makes wishes and casts spells haphazardly. Due to his desire to forget his strange encounter, he remains totally unaware of what he has unintentionally wrought. In a chinese food restaurant a delivery man scratches at his stomach after making a stop at a friendly apartment next door, he himself could sure use a bite to eat. All across town people Nicky has wished well find themselves becoming more. People Nicky has wished would learn a lesson do so in ways he never could expect, in ways he would never wish. For now he simply continues on as normal, though when Simon finally comes home to tell his boyfriend of a strange encounter with some guy at the gym and the disquieting flashes of red in the back of his mind, perhaps Nicky will finally discover how his will is being enacted, how it is being twisted into the world.

Poll Results:

Delivery - 30.5%

Follows Alex from Talisman II as Rich has unwittingly sent him on his own path to Transformation as he goes on deliveries to find some of his regulars acting strange (General masculinzation for Alex alongside some other shorter fun TF’s, i.e. twinkification/Stoner tf/preppification)

Hazmat 21.6%

Forces race to contain the spread of transformation, but who polices the police as it were (Continuing onward with jockfications)

Location Location Location 24.1%

To test his powers Nicky deliberately changes a whole establishment and the people within, though unfamiliarity or disbelief creates a new locus of transformation (Library to Fraternity? Craft store to sports store?)

Barista 23.6%

Accidentally uses talisman on barista and through effort Simon gets Nicky to observe and become aware of the situation (cafe goer into various TFs surfer/cultural change/might toss in a F2M, is there interest there??)

#male tf #mental change #jockification #hair growth #dumber #reality change #masculinization #beard growth #himbofication #gay transformation #muscle tf #male transformation #mass tf #musk tf #talismen

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 19 days ago

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Innocent (Pope Cody)

Description: Nicky’s inexperienced friend catches the eye of Pope Cody.

Warning: Smut, pussy eating, innocent kink, Car Sex, public oral (sorta), Age Gap

Word Count: 1,940

There was confusion on her face as Craig told a dirty joke to the crowd. It was a pool party and everyone was there. The Cody boys loved have parties with a bunch of hot girls and getting wasted. Y/N was Nicky’s best friend and with Nicky now seeing Craig instead of J, they were there a lot. Y/N was there to hang out and have fun, she didn’t like drinking or doing drugs.

She caught the eye of the older Cody because of this. It amazed him that she was here and yet didn’t have much experience with anything. She didn’t do what they all did and didn’t get any joke Craig told. Pope’s dark eyes stared at her anytime he could. She was a wet dream, innocent and pure. Her giggle made him feel hot and bothered.

He kept his sick crush to himself and nobody noticed, thankfully. If Y/n looked in his direction he would look elsewhere. Pope was super nice to her and he wasn’t nice to anyone. She was 22 and he was in his 40’s, there was no way she wanted him. At least that’s what he told himself.

Everyone was passed out by the pool or had gone home by now. Smurf had gone to bed moments ago, wishing the sweet girl goodnight. Pope was staring at her from afar, she was still wet from the pool so her nipples were poking through the fabric. Pope had picked everything up from the pool before he went inside. She looked over at him as he walked in, eyes on her.

She gave him a smile as he ended up at the other side of the table. “Crazy party, huh?” He gave her a small smile, “Yeah they sure know how to throw one.” He stated and she shrugged, “Not much of a party person.” That confused him since she was at every party they threw. “Why do you come to them then?” He asked her and she shrugged, “There’s this something or someone that keeps pulling me here.” She admits to him. Someone? He thought. “Someone?” He asked her and she nodded.

“Yeah. I know it sounds weird.” “Not at all.” He tells her and she sighs, “I mean it’s not like they would want me back, Ya know? I have no experience with anything.” She rants. “That doesn’t mean anything.” “The age would.” If Pope had a drink it would be all over the table right now. The person she liked was older.. like Baz? “I’m sorry for throwing that on you.” She apologized and got up from her spot. His eyes dropped to her nipples again, “Why Baz?” He asked and she turned to look at him, her face dropped not understanding why he thought it was Baz.

“I’m sorry?” He stood up as well, “Why Baz? Why are you into him?” She shook her head at his question, “Definitely not Baz.” She said. “But Baz is the only one way older than you.” She shook her head, “Not the only one.” Pope wasn’t sure when it clicked in his head that she was talking about him. Was it the look she gave him after she said it? Or the fact that only Baz and him were way older than her?

He stared at her, “Pope I’ve had a crush on you forever and I know you won’t see me like that and I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” She said to him and without a word he walked around the table to her. They were so close, yet so far. His dark eyes stared into her pure ones, making her nervous but so turned on. “Pope.” His name left her lips in a needy whisper. “You have no idea what you do to me. I have no experience and yet I want you to ruin me.” She let out in a shaky whisper. Her face was so soft and made him extremely hard.

His fingers reached up and touched her face, her skin was so soft and felt like silk. The height difference between them was exciting and made her lean up on her tippy toes and drag her lips against his. Their lips met in a needy kiss that felt like it should’ve happened forever ago. Her hands came up to the back of his hand, his hands on her hips. For not having any experience, she was a great kisser. She pulled away from the kiss to breathe, “Pope Please.” She whispered against his lips, so needy and desperate for more.

She wanted him in control and that’s what he was going to give her. He placed her on the counter and they kissed again. Her hands ran through his short hair, his hands moved to her back to untie the bikini top. The wet piece of clothing fell from her chest, freeing her boobs. Pope pulled away from the kiss to look at her, she was so beautiful. She gets insecure and covers up her chest causing him to shake his head and remove her hands from her boobs and pins them to the table, she lets out a gasp.

“A pretty little thing like you should never hide yourself.” He tells her and leans down to lick one of her nipples, making her gasp his name. The feeling of his mouth on her nipple was so foreign but so good. Her soft moans filled the air as he sucked, “Pope.” He felt himself harden over her pretty lips whimpering his name. His hands moved to her bottoms and tugged on them, “Need these off.” He mumbled against her nipple and she nodded, lifting her hips so he could remove them. The cool air hit her wetness, making her gasp.

Pope pulled away from her nipple and looked down at her pussy. She had such a nice pussy, it was soaked from her wetness and the way he was touching her. His fingers ached to be rubbing her clit, “Pope, please do something.” She begged the older man as he just stared at her. He dropped to his Knees and stared up at her like she owned him. In this moment she did as she stared back down. Her eyes held need and nervousness, never having anyone be down there like this before.

She bit her lip and wanted to so bad shove his face in her pussy and force him to get on with it but even though he was on his knees, he still had the power. Pope didn’t make her wait much longer as he dove into her wetness, soaking his nose and mouth. Her head fell back and she let out a loud moan in surprise. She forgot that Smurf, J and Craig were in the house asleep and covered her mouth to muffle the sinful noises that fell from it. Pope loved the fact that she did that and it encouraged him more.

“Remove your hand. I wanna hear those pretty noises.” He mumbles against her. Her hand fell from her mouth and went to his hair that wasn’t long enough to pull or anything but it made her feel better. She felt like if she didn’t have a hold of something, she would float away. Her whines and moans were more quiet than the first as she tried to be reasonable but each time his nose hit her clit she wanted to scream. His face was covered by her juices now, he was drowning in her pussy and didn’t care if he died like this. His strong hands kept her thighs opened, that tried to close.

His fingers digging into her thighs as he focused on her pleasure. Her hips fought against moving until she couldn’t help it anymore, it was like her body took over her mind and her hips started fucking his face. She whimpered as each thrust, her clit hit his nose and her high was approaching. She became a woman on a mission to cum all over his face, “So close.” She moaned and he sped up his movements until her breathing turned to panting. “Pope, I’m cumming.” She cried out and her hips moved hard but slow as the orgasm rocks through her.

It was one of the best feelings she’s ever felt as it made her whole body weak in the best way possible. She screamed and prayed to the man between her legs as he let her ride out her high. She nearly collapsed on the counter once he pulled away. He was also breathing hard and his face covered in her orgasm. He stared at her, waiting for her to calm down as that clearly was the hardest she’s ever came before. Her eyes opened and she stared at the ceiling, her brain wasn’t working still in euphoria.

“Are you okay?” Pope asked her as he stood up between her legs. She shook her head, not trusting her voice as she sat up. “That was..” She trailed off still out of it, “Wow.” She said in awe. “I’m glad you enjoyed-“ her lips interrupted him as she kissed him. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue, moaning.

“We probably shouldn’t take this further here.” He pulls away from the kiss. “You have a room here?” She asked, her hands running over his muscular back. He shook his head, “Not here no.” J was given his room while he was in prison. “Your car?” She asked, hopefully and that made him chuckle, “You sure?” He asked and she nodded. “I want words.” He told her, “Yes Pope, I’m sure.”

The car was rocking, if anyone came outside right now they would know exactly what was going on. Pope’s hands held her hips as she bounced on his cock, finally used to it. Her moans and whimpers of his name filled the car. He was watched her intensely, he made no noise but his eyes were soft. He felt pleasure but tried not to react to it as he didn’t want to miss a moment of this blissed out beauty riding him.

Her head was back and she wasn’t hold back, his name was all she knew. Her pussy was going crazy around him with each thrust, making him let out a groan. One of her hands was on the window and the other placed on his chest. She was so close, she was losing rhythm and panting like crazy. His dick was twitching inside of her and it was taking everything in him not to cum inside of her.

“Pope, fuck I’m going to-“ but her high cut off her words as she screamed his name, cumming. She nearly fell on him as she rode out her high, her expressions and babbled nonsense almost made him cum. He pushed her off him, lightly as he came all over her stomach with a sexy groan. She gasped at the sight of him milking himself until his orgasm faded.

They were under a blanket in his jeep, still naked from the previous 10 minutes. Not many words were spoken as his eyes bore into her. “My clothes are inside.” She says and looks at him with a small smile, she really didn’t want to get up. She was perfectly fine falling asleep on his chest. “I can go get them for you.” He offered and she pretended to think about it, “Or I can go get them myself.” His face dropped at her joke. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” She giggled at his response and laid her head on his chest, perfectly fine without clothes.

#animal kingdom #animal kingdom show #pope cody #andrew pope cody #pope cody imagine #pope cody smut #pope cody x reader #shawn hatosy #j cody #finn cole #craig cody #deran cody

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lostbookmark · 16 days ago

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MNDI 🔞

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Summary: After the death of your brother and his wife. You find yourself adjusting to a new role in your life. A single parent to your teenage nephew. How do you help him heal? How do you help yourself heal? You're not sure. You don't think you can, until an annoying basketball coach enters your life and turns everything around.

Pairing: Basketball Coach Yoongi x Single Aunt F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Strangers to Lovers,

Warnings: Death Of Parents / Brother/ Family, Car Accident (Cause), Swearing, Explicit Sex, Arguments, Physical Fighting, Past Abusive Relationship, Talks Of Domestic Violence, mentions of sex work

A/N: So, this is just a random filler chapter that came out of nowhere during my time of writers blockage. I know what my next 'big ticket' is going to be, but these damn in between chapters are killing me! Enjoy!

SMUT!

Bangtan Ravens

Undefeated

7-0

“You didn't have to bring anything,” you say, pulling into your parents' driveway.

It felt like a successful week for you. Ara was quiet when she came back from her suspension, effectively leaving you alone. In fact, you don't think that she even made eye contact with you. Nicky asked if he could talk to the school counselor. You were so proud of him taking that step all on his own. You even felt a little lighter. Not much, but you found yourself breathing easier. Yoongi still looked at you with something that you couldn't put your finger on. He knew you still had secrets that you weren't ready to let him in on yet and you weren't ready yet. Those ones were still locked away. Your ugly scars that you didn't want to expose him to. No, you weren't ready for that yet.

“It's my first time going to your parents,” he says from your passenger seat. “It would be rude to show up empty-handed.”

“Fuck, you're perfect,” you grumble, turning your car off. “Ready to get this over with?”

“Don't sound so excited,” he jokes.

“I'm …. not responding,” you say, climbing out of your car with him following close behind. Wiggling your fingers nervously, you walk up the steps leading Yoongi up to the door. Placing your hand on the door knob you turn to him with a serious expression. “We can turn back and run right now?”

“I have already met your family,” he says. “It's going to be fine.”

“But we will be outnumbered,” you tell him, and he nods at the door handle. Sighing, you turn the knob and open the door. “We're here.”

“You actually made it on time,” your mom says, looking at her watch. “Early, even.”

“His fault,” you comment. “He's trying to impress you.”

Yoongi looks at you quickly before lightly elbowing you.

“Or he just has manners,” she argues back and walks over to greet the two of you. “You didn't have to bring anything.”

“It's no problem,” he replied politely while handing her a tupperware container full of smoked brisket. “My friends and I barbecued a bunch of meat before we had to put the grill and smoker away for the year.”

“Oh, you cook,” you mom comments, ushering in toward the dining room while looking back at you and winking. “You'll have to teach my husband a thing or two. I don't think he can even work a can opener.”

“So, sunshine gets it from grandpa?” Nicky jokes as the three of you make it to the table.

“Very funny,” you and your dad say at the same time.

“Good win today for the both of you,” your dad congratulates.

“We are untouchable,” Nicky says, taking a plate from your mom, who was passing them out to everyone.

“Absolutely not,” Yoongi disagrees. “The moment you start to think like that is the moment you will start making little mistakes, and those little mistakes will add up.”

“Listen to him, Nicks,” your dad says as he places dishes of food on the table. “Winning is a great high, but you need to keep that focus. Always focus on that next win because it's not guaranteed.”

“I know, but it’s fun,” he whines.

“Everyone dig in,” your mom cuts in. “Tell us about this camp you mentioned.”

“NBA players have gone to this camp,” Nicky explains. “And sunshine has to sell feet pictures for me to go. I don't know why someone would want to buy a picture of her feet.”

Both you and Yoongi practically choke on your food while Chris and Elly, who were across from you, were trying not to laugh. Your mom reaches over the table to slap you gently on the arm.

“It was a joke,” you defend yourself.

“How much is it?” Your dad asks, and you shake your head no.

“No,” you shut him down. “I want to do this on my own. I might have to get a second job, but I can do it. I need to start to be more independent.”

“Get a second job where?” Elly asks, and you smirk at her.

“I think that massage parlor off the highway gives happy endings…,” you joke.

“Y/N!” Your mom snaps.

Everyone besides your mom and Nicky laugh.

“What's a happy ending?” Nicky asks.

“Nothing…. Don't worry about…What?...Eat your food,” came several replies to the teenager's question.

“I'll just google it,” he threatens, making your mom slap his arm lightly.

“Look at what you did,” she says, pointing her fork at you.

“Oh, come on,” you roll your eyes. “He has parental controls on his devices.”

“So, it has something to do with THAT,” he comments while looking at his plate while nodding to himself.

“Everybody just eat your food,” your mom grumbles, making you and your brother laugh silently.

“Welcome to the family,” you whisper to Yoongi, and he shakes his head at you doing as your mom asks.

“What made him change his mind about the pictures?” Chris asks as he looks at Nicky going through your parents' photo albums.

“I don't know,” you play dumb. “Maybe he decided that it was just time.”

Yoongi's thumb gently drags across your shoulder with his arm slung around the back of your chair.

“I think it's great,” Elly comments. “I want to put their pictures out on a table at the reception, but I didn't want to upset anyone.”

“Dessert?” Your mom asks, coming into the room with some pie.

“No thank you,” Yoongi says.

“Are you full?” She asks, slicing the pie for everyone else.

“I'm…uh….” he fumbles a bit.

“He's not a fan of sweets,” you say, speaking up for him. “You're not going to offend her. It's fine.”

“That explains why you're with my sister,” Chris jokes. “You like bitter and sour.”

“Oh, ha ha,” you laugh an obnoxiously fake laugh. “Fuck off.”

“You both need to knock it off,” your mother chides, placing the dessert in front of everyone except Yoongi and your dad, who was with Nicky.

“Anyway, I went into the office today to check my voicemails,” Elly tells everyone before side-eyeing your brother and giving you a look of pure disgust. “Guess who I had an inquiry from?”

“Let me guess,” you smile. “Dated someone we all know and has crazy eyes.”

“Did Chris's ex-girlfriend call?” Your dad asks, coming back to the table.

“She wasn't crazy?” Your mom argues. “She was just a little … off.”

“She was worse than Ara,” you whisper to Yoongi, making him laugh.

“Please tell me you didn't call her back?” You father questions, sitting down and cutting himself a slice of pie. “I won't work for her. She was weird. Remember when we caught her watching him when he was sleeping.”

“Whatever happened to her?” You mom asks, and you look away trying to look innocent.

“I don't know,” your brother answers. “It's almost like someone hit her with a hockey stick and chased her down the street.”

“Y/N!” Your mom exclaims. “Did you hit her with a hockey stick?”

“I believe it,” Yoongi says, nodding.

“Y/N, did you hit Yoongi with a hockey stick?” She asks next.

“NO!” You proclaim and then point your finger at your brother. “You little snitch. She literally broke into the house when you were gone and tried to attack Elly. She had her by the hair and everything.”

“That's true,” Elly speaks up, agreeing with you.

“I love Elly. I wasn't going to let her get hurt,” you explain. “So, I … you know…” You swung your hands in a swinging motion. “I didn't hit her on the head or anything.”

“Sunshine is a badass,” Nicky calls from where he was settled on the couch.

“Language,” you all call back.

“And what about Yoongi?” She asks.

“Oh, she didn't hit me, and I scared her,” he explained quickly. “It was super late. It was my fault.”

“Is there anything else I should know since we're spilling secrets?” Your mom asks, looking between you and your brother.

You glare at Chris, making a subtle stabbing motion with your fork until he finds his pie rather interesting.

“Nope,” he answers, and you shake your head no, agreeing with his lie.

Your mother jabs your pie with her fork, not believing the two of you. Smiling innocently, you feed Yoongi a small piece of the sweet apple pie, and the look he gives you tells you everything you need to know. He doesn't believe you either, and all it does make you shrug.

“How much is the camp?” Your mom asks as the two of you do the dishes.

“Twelve thousand dollars,” you answer. “Possibly more. It was twelve thousand years ago, so it's probably more now.”

“Nicky seems to think he can get in,” she says.

“Yoongi has a lot of faith in him,” you answer, drying your hands off on a towel and looking out the window above the sink. Yoongi and Nicky were playing basketball against your dad and brother. You could hear Elly cheering Nicky on and Chris bitching at her about not cheering him on. “They have come up with a whole training schedule.”

“You know he told me, right?” She questions softly, and you look at her confused. “He told me that he was rude to Yoongi and that he felt bad.”

“He apologized,” you tell her and she nodded.

“I'm glad that the both of you have someone to open up to,” she sniffles. “Does he know… everything?”

“No,” you answer, turning away to wipe down the counter.

“You should tell him,” she suggests. “You don't have to be scared. He won't run.”

“He'll look at me differently,” you say, shaking your head.

“No,” she argues.

“Yes,” you argue back. “He'll pity me. I don't want him to see me as some idiot weak person who stayed….”

“Stop,” your mom says, grabbing your shoulders. “He would never see you like that. None of us see you like that.”

“I'm scared,” you whisper as she hugs you.

“That's understandable,” she says, smoothing your hair much like she did when you were young. “But he's still going to love you.”

“He doesn't love me,” you laugh and sniffle.

“I would beg to differ,” she says, pulling away and hitting you lightly with the towel you had a minute ago.

Turning, you look back out the window and watch him talk with your dad. Your dad, who was always so quiet and stoic around your exes, was patting Yoongi on the back and laughing with him. You shake your head. You think your mom is nuts.

There is no way Yoongi is in love with you.

….. is he?

“Well other than finding out, you're a pro at wielding a hockey stick. I think it went well,” Yoongi jokes, as you pull into his driveway.

“Did you really hit her?” Nicky asks from the backseat.

“Yes,” you answer. “She was crazy.”

A knock on your window has you turning to look out your window to see Coach Jeon…errr maybe you should say Jungkook standing outside your car waving happily. Hitting your button, you roll your window down, and he immediately reaches in and over you to give Nicky a high five.

“Have you asked her?” He asks Yoongi.

“Ask me what?” You ask back, and the tattooed man shakes his head.

“Of course he didn't. We think he's embarrassed of us,” he says.

“Of course I'm embarrassed of you,” Yoongi agrees. “You're going to scare her off.”

“Can someone fill me in?” You question looking between the two friends and roommates.

“My friend and his wife are having a bonfire tomorrow night,” Yoongi informs you. “Everyone wants to meet you and Nicky.”

“Tomorrow?” You ask, suddenly scared.

“Cool. Can we go?” Nicky asks, looking at you.

“I wasn't planning on going,” he glares at Jungkook, who just smiles.

“They're okay with Nicky tagging along?” You question looking at your nephew and the two men.

”Yeah,” Jungkook confirms. “Yoongi doesn't shut up about the two of you.”

“Shut up!” Yoongi hisses, making you slightly red and Nicky laugh. “Nicky will fit right in. In fact, I think he is probably more mature than some of them.”

“I think I should be offended, but it's true,” Jungkook says and taps your car door lightly. “Hope to see you there.”

“It will be less stressful than tonight's dinner,” he promises. “We don't have to stay long. I know it's last minute, but I figured you wouldn't want to go. So, I wasn't going to bring it up.”

“Are you nervous, sunshine?” Nicky asks.

“Yes, I'm nervous,” you say. “I'm not going to fit in with your friends. I barely fit with you.”

“That's not true,” he says.

“I'm used to bikers, not frat boys,” you joke, making him roll his eyes at you.

“He came to dinner with us because it's important to our family,” Nicky comments. “This is obviously important to them.”

Why the fuck is he so wise?

“Okay,” you say. “Just a bonfire, right?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “There will be ten of us, including the two of you.”

“Sorely outnumbered,” you mumble to yourself. “Nothing fancy?”

“Nothing fancy,” he promises.

“Will there be s'mores there?” Nicky asks.

“I'll make sure of it,” Yoongi answers and looks back at you.

“Okay,” you agree, with a pounding heart. “Let's meet your friends.”

With a devastating smile, he squeezes your hand, and for once, you think you made the right choice.

It was fancy.

The large house sat back far off the road in the middle of nowhere. Almost too far back for your comfort in your opinion. You think the closest neighbor was at least ten minutes down the road, and that was kind of scary since you don't know these people.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks, as the three of you walk up the long gravel driveway, making your way around to the back of the house.

“Yeah, why?” You ask back, eyes scanning the darkness of the area.

“Because, you're squeezing my hand so hard that I can barely feel it,” he says.

“Sorry,” you apologize, trying to let go, but he holds on, not letting you let go. Trying to loosen up, you suddenly freeze mid step, making both males look at you. “I didn't bring anything. You brought something to my parents. I didn't bring anything.”

“You didn't need to,” he assures you. “You being here is enough.”

“If you want to leave early, I can fake sick,” Nicky offers.

“You shouldn't offer that in front of him,” you tell him as you nod discreetly at Yoongi, who knocks your shoulder with his own.

“Oh, good point,” your nephew says.

“You both are being ridiculous,” Yoongi comments. “Once you get to know them, I promise they are not intimidating.”

“What's taking so long?” Jungkook asks, running up to your little group as the gravel crunches underneath his feet. “We heard your car pull up a bit ago. Some of them are taking bets that you chickened out.”

“That's rude,” Yoongi replies.

“Come on,” he urges, throwing an arm Nicky's shoulders and directing the three of you around to the back of the house. Yoongi's hand molds around your hip, as the two of you follow silently toward the dancing shadows in the backyard. “Look who I found. I told you they would show.”

“I knew they would show,” a new voice pops up as a beautiful blonde with a stunning smile comes to a running halt in front of you. “No wonder Yoongi kept you to himself. You're too beautiful for the old grandpa. I'm Jimin.”

“Back off,” Yoongi sniffs in annoyance.

“Yeah, back off, Jimin,” another man with dark floppy hair says. “We both know she would pick me. I'm dark and mysterious. Hello, I'm Taehyung.”

“Both of you back off. I told you to behave tonight,” a deep voice cuts in. “Yeri, worked hard on everything, so Y/N and Nicky will feel comfortable. Don't ruin it.”

“Sorry, Joon,” they both say.

“Do you like fireworks, Nicky?” Taehyung asks.

“Ummm,” You say, suddenly nervous again.

“It's okay,” Jungkook assures you. “We all still have all our limbs intact.”

Before you can object, the three men drag your nephew off into the darkness.

“Don't worry. We will watch the children,”another new voice calls out as two new men walk after the group who were with Nicky.

“I don't know if I like that,” you say, pointing to the retreating group.

“It's okay,” Yoongi tells you. “Jin and Hobi won't let anything happen. They will keep Nicky away from anything dangerous. Sorry, Y/N, this is Namjoon. He and his wife Yeri invited us tonight.”

“I didn't bring anything,” you blurt out, causing the much taller man to give you an inquisitive stare before laughing.

“It's just a bonfire,” he says. “Don't worry about it.”

“Told you,” Yoongi whispers against your hair.

“Joon help,” a very pretty and very pregnant woman says as she steps out of the house with a tray of food in her hands. “Oh Yoongi’s here. Never mind, Yoongi, help, please.”

“I wouldn’t drop it,” Namjoon argues, looking put out.

“Of course you wouldn't,” she laughs nervously and looks at you. “Hello, I'm so happy you came. I've been telling Yoongi to bring you over for weeks now.”

“Thanks for inviting us,” you say, giving her an awkward smile.

Several booms and crackles fill the night air, causing the four of you to jump in surprise as the fireworks explode in the sky above. Yeri grabs her stomach in surprise and laughs while shaking her head.

“I told them not to bring those damn things, but do they listen? No,” she grumbles. “No, they never listen to me.”

“Everyone is fine,” someone yells out.

“Why don't you two go off and play with the rest of the boys and leave us alone,” Namjoon's wife suggests, and Yoongi gives you a look. Yeri sighs and pushes him gently. “She's fine.”

“Are you okay?” He asks, ignoring his friend's wife, and you nod.

“See, she's good,” Yeri answers, taking your hand in hers, guiding you to a wicker couch where Yoongi had placed a tray of food in front of on a table with several other covered dishes. “Give us a head start on the food before you come back. You know how they eat everything.” She waves them off with much of a second glance before focusing on you. “You don't have to be nervous.”

“I'm not,” you lie.

“As much as he talks about you, I feel like I should know you already,” she laughs.

“And what exactly does he say about me?” You ask, suddenly on alert, and you think that she can sense it.

“Everything and nothing at the same time,” she says cryptically.

“That isn't confusing at all,” you tell her.

“He said he pretty much knew you were the one when he almost had to kick you out of practice for swearing at him that first week of basketball,” she laughs recounting his tale of one of his first encounters with you. “He never really talked about any of the parents, but boy, did he talk about you.”

“Yeah, I don't make the best choices,” you admit.

“It's amazing,” she said, filling two plates for the two of you. “Yoongi hasn't really dated since his bitch of an ex broke up with him. When he has gone on dates he wasn't … excited about any of them. You've brought back a light to his eyes.”

“He hasn't talked about an ex,” you say, accepting the plate of food. “He mentioned a breakup once, but that's all.”

“I'm not surprised,” she says. “None of us liked her. She was demanding and rude. Yoongi is really great. We watched him give his all to her, and she took and took, but she never gave anything in return. All she did was bitch about him coaching basketball and she wanted him to quit to spend more time with her. She bitched about how he wasted her weekends during the season. He would beg her to come to the games but she always said she had better things to do.”

Your heart stops, and you take a bite of the cheese and crackers that you assembled from your plate as her words echo in your head. His ex hated basketball. His ex hated basketball. His ex hated basketball. You didn't hate basketball. Not like that. You hated the competitiveness of it all. You hated the parents. You didn't hate that he coached it. Were you just as bad as her?

“Is that why they broke up?” You question.

“Surprisingly, no,” she scoffs. “He was running himself ragged, trying to please her. He stressed himself out so much he wasn't eating or sleeping. The guys finally held an intervention of some sort and actually got through to him. He told her things had to change, and she dumped right on the spot.”

“Oh,” you mumble quietly, wondering if he was wandering down the same path that he did before.

Fuck, man! He was just willing to give up coaching for you.

“What's wrong?” She asks, munching away at her food.

“Nothing,” you lie. “I'm happy he never quit. I think he's done wonders for Nicky.”

“And you have done wonders for my little grumpy friend,” she laughs, making you smile.

Loud booms echo through the night, causing you both to jump once more. You have to quickly steady the plate in your lap so it doesn't fall to the ground. Looking over your shoulder, you see a burst of bright colors as they whirl into the dark sky until they fizzle out into nothingness.

“I really, really don't like that,” you say, looking into the darkness to see if you can see any sign of your nephew. “I don't know when I turned into my mother. I did worse stuff than play with fireworks at his age.”

“Yoongi will keep him safe,” she says with a laugh. “Can I let you in on another little secret?”

“Sure,” you say warily.

“Yoongi and the guys are like brothers. They tell each other everything, and Joon is a little gossip, who tells me everything,” she explains with a smile. “He told the guys about you right away, like I said. He also told them that he clocked right away that you didn't have a ring on your finger.”

“What?” You laugh.

“Yeah,” she confirms. “When he found out that you were his aunt and not mom, the guys were literally trying to give him ideas on how to approach you, but his damn pride in his stupid handbook wouldn't let him.”

“His handbook,” you shake your head. “I hate that thing.”

“He's always trying to do the right thing. That's why he's so great,” she says, and then she suddenly sits a bit straighter. “Here they come. Joon was there that night at the bar when Yoongi left with you, and let's just say. He said when you walked in, Yoongi's eyes lit up like a kid's on Christmas morning.”

“He played it so cool when he approached me,” you tell her.

“Yeah, but I bet he was a nervous wreck on the inside,” she smiles and looks past your shoulder and points at them with a serious expression. “Let Nicky eat first. Have whatever you want, Nicky.”

“Thanks!” He says as his eyes light up with delight, looking at the food spread out before him.

Your eyes wander from your nephew to Yoongi, who was talking to either Jin or Hobi. You're not sure who it was, but it was one of the men who volunteered to look after the “children”. Yoongi was laughing with him and looking completely relaxed. As he should be. These are his friends, his family. You've been so caught up in your life, in your own issues. You didn't really even stop to think about his life that didn't include you or…. Ara.

You didn't even ask.

You really were selfish.

“Hey, Nicky,” the other Jin or Hobi says, coming up to your nephew. “What do you call a bear with no teeth?”

Everyone, but you groans at the question.

“A gummy bear,” he answers, never breaking his concentration on his food.

“No, no, a gumm….wait,” the man said, looking shocked.

“Nice try, Jin,” Jungkook laughs.

“Don't eat too much,” Yeri tells Nicky as he stocks his plate full. “I got us stuff for s'mores.”

“You don't have to get them just for him,” you say, shaking your head.

“Baby and I wanted them too,” she said. “Now I have the perfect excuse to have a couple or four.”

Nicky laughs and holds his hand out for a high five, which Yeri gladly accepts. You throw a look at him. He must only give high fives to everyone but you.

Fuck!

You really have turned into your mom.

The fire was toasty, and the heat emitting from Yoongi was slowly making you tired. With you perched in his lap and his thumb rubbing circles on your hip, you felt an overwhelming peacefulness. Even around his friends, who you didn't know, or you didn't have anything in common with, made you feel completely welcome and at ease. It was just friends sitting around talking and eating, enjoying each other's company.

It wasn't a booze filled party where you were doing body shots off your friend’s cleavage where guys were hooting and hollering. It wasn't a drug den where your ex's dragged you to be a look out just in case the cops showed up because you looked ‘innocent enough’ to help them get out of trouble.

No.

This was… wholesome.

“If he's having trouble with his stamina. Jimin and I have a dance studio and can really work with him on breathing and cardio,” Hoseok aka Hobi as he tells you to call him, tells you.

“Dance?” Nicky asks, making a face from where he sits with Jungkook by the fire.

“I do it,” Jungkook tells him. “It's great exercise.”

“Oh,” your nephew says, contemplating his coach's words. “Can I do it, sunshine?”

“Sure,” you answer, still soaking up Yoongi's warmth.

“Great!” Hobi exclaims. “We can work around your schedule. I can get your number later or Yoongi can give it to me.”

“You know what else Hobi can give you?” Jimin asks, squatting next to the chair where you were curled up in Yoongi's lap.

“What's that?” You ask back, raising an eyebrow.

“A picture of a certain someone in a french maid…” Jimin was cut off as Yoongi reaches over and pushes his friend over, causing him to land on his ass.

“I'm sorry, what?” You ask, more alert.

“Don't worry about it,” Yoongi answers, making most everyone laugh. “It was college… it was stupid.”

“And Hobi isn't the only one with the pictures,” Taehyung teases, shaking his phone.

“And unless you want to see if your phone will melt in the fire, I would put it away,” Yoongi threatens.

You watch Taehyung visibly gulp and pocket his phone. You don't know what to think right now. Yoongi… a …. french maid costume ??? You're intrigued, but at the same time, you're not sure if you want to know if you want to know.

“Ummm…” you start, but he shakes his head, and you laugh silently.

Laying your head back against him, you watch Nicky make another s'more for Yeri. You could feel your heart clench at how they all accepted him. How they all accepted you, and it was all because of Yoongi. With his thumb resuming the circles on your hip, you make a promise to yourself to try harder. You are not going to be his ex. You are going to dig in and find that better version of you. The version he deserves.

“Did you have fun?” Yoongi asks, coming out of your bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist as he towel dries his hair.

“Yeah, your friends are interesting, and Yeri was really nice,” you reply, staring up at the ceiling from where you lie on the bed.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “She's a gem.”

“You should find someone like her,” you comment, poking his hip with your foot. “She seems really … stable.”

Yoongi grabs your ankles, pulling you down the mattress just a bit. Climbing over you, he settles on his elbows to hover over your body. Pressing his lips against yours. your hands sink into the still dewy skin of his back.

“I already found the one I want,” he mumbles against your lips. “And I will keep reminding you as many times as I need to.”

Slithering down your body, Yoongi sinks down onto the floor until his knees hit the carpet. Curling his fingers into your shorts, he pulls them down your legs, exposing you to his gaze. With a kiss to your inner knee, he works his way up your inner thighs as you lie there watching his every move. Soon, his warm breath hits your center as his tongue licks right up the middle of your core with his eyes never leaving yours.

Your hand shoots down into his hair, holding him to you. Moaning, he swirls tongue around your sensitive bud, causing your hips to jerk and your back to arch. Yoongi takes the opportunity to run his hands up your body and under your old concert tee to grab your breasts. Fingers magically plucking at your nipples before soothingly running his palms over them, calming the pleasurable ache.

“Yoongi,” you whisper as quietly as you can, not knowing if Nicky was sleeping or not. “We don't have to…”

“Shhh,” he shushes you as he pulls away a little bit. “You promise to be quiet for me, doll?” You nod your head and bite your bottom lip. “Get on your bean bag.”

“What?” You ask, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“You heard me,” he tells you and nods his head to the corner of your room where your pink corduroy chair sits. “Go.”

You scramble up the bed to the nightstand for the condom before making it to your bean bag chair in record time. You swear you can hear him laugh at you as he locks the bedroom door. As Yoongi walks over to you, he's not shy at all about what the towel around his waist isn't hiding.

“Yoongi…” you try again.

“Shhh,” he says once more, kneeling down before you and running his thumb across your bottom lip. “Quiet doll. You promised me last time I could take my time tasting you.”

“Don't cash in on that now,” you plead, pulling him face to face and pressing your lips to his as your hands make your way into his towel.

“I should,” he groans as your hand grips him. “I should make you squirm under my tongue for an hour.”

“No,” you shake your head and place his hand between your legs, making him feel your wetness. “I'm too desperate.” His eyes darken as they lock with yours. “I. NEED. YOU.”

You watch as his mouth twitches in a small smirk. So small, that if you would have blinked in that exact moment, you would have missed it.

“Why can't I deny you?” He questions, cupping the back of your head to capture your lips as he simultaneously lays you back, covering your body with his. Your hands grab the towel at his waist and pull it off his body, tossing it off to the side. “You know that, don't you? I'll do anything you ask.”

Yoongi's hands slowly bring the hem of your old shirt up and over your head, leaving you both bare. Burying his face into your neck, his teeth nip at the column of smooth skin, making your breath hitch before he moves to the other side and sucking right below your ear.

“Fuck,” you breath out, squirming beneath his warmth.

“I will,” he chuckles, deeply in your ear. “I will.”

Reaching up blindly, he grabs the condom you tossed by your head. As he pulls away, you shiver from the lack of warmth as you watch him open the packet and roll the latex down his hardness. Your head feels a little foggy, and you try to shake it clear to gain control of the situation. To throw him down and show him how much you needed him, but before you could move, his body pinned you back against your chair.

“Shhh,” he reminds you as you open your mouth to protest.

Covering your mouth with his own, Yoongi slips his tongue into your mouth, tongue dancing insync with your own as his cock slips into you. Whimpering, he swallows your sounds as he seems to need to take a moment himself once he is completely buried in you.

“Yoongi, move, please,” you beg, softly pressing your head back into the pick fabric.

Leaning on his elbow by your head and a hand by your ribs, he slowly rolls his hips up into you. Taking his time withdrawing from you before thrusting back into you at a languid pace. He wasn't in a hurry, and the scrunched look of pure concentration tells you that he wasn't going to rush it tonight.

“Fuck, doll,” he whispers against your cheek. “You're everything I could ever want.”

Whimpering, his long strokes barely pick up in pace as his lips kiss a random trail on the skin of your neck. Bringing your hands up to his shoulder blades, you pull him down, flush against your naked front, and tighten your thighs around his sides. Using what strength you had, you move underneath him the best you could. Meeting his leisurely thrusts with your own as the two of you move together almost as one.

Dropping your head onto his shoulder, you bite your lip and sink your fingertips into the skin of his back. The ever so familiar tingle starts to take over deep within you. As your breathing picks up, your head drops back, and Yoongi's lips are everywhere. Under your jaw, your chest, anywhere they could reach.

“Oh fuck,” you say, blinking rapidly at him trying to hold off on letting the tight winding coil of pleasure snap. “I can't, I can't…”

“Let it go,” he grunts. “I'm right with you.”

Taking your lips, he shoves himself deep inside of you. His long strokes turn shallow, grinding himself against your clit. Your hands come down to slap the material beneath you before grabbing the back of his head and kissing him deeper. Moaning into his mouth, the fireworks, much like earlier tonight burst all over your body as his arms wrap around you to hold you close to him.

Lost in your haze, you feel your body jostle with a couple of sloppy thrusts before Yoongi completely slumps over you with a stuttered moan. Dropping your arms from around the back of his head, you lay tired, splayed under him, trying to catch your breath. As your fog clears, you can feel his heartbeat against your naked body as you stare up at the ceiling. Your eyes trace along the pattern in the tiles.

It was odd.

Truly odd.

It was something you have never done before.

You think… but you're not sure.

But, you think.

He just made love to you.

Shit!

《Chapter 15》

Tagged Readers

@busanbby-jjk , @meelismee @jajabro , @wicked-game-black-butler

@wobblewobble882, @damn-u-min-yoongi @mintedagustd , @Granataepfelchen

@yoongiiuu93, @jimeg629 @jincapableoflove , @minghaosimp

@redragdoll, @ot72025 @seoullove96 @our-cool-jenny

@kam9404 , @momma1 , @carolineesnell , @amarawayne , @militrybarbi

@haileyborig, @bettytta , @ilikekpop-c, @mar-lo-pap , @lattejimin, @butterymin

@thelilbutifulthings , @cannotalwaysbenight , @notsooperfect

@muchwita , @maryhopemei, @rinkud, @misfits1a, @ktownshizzle

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #bts fic #min yoongi smut #yoongi au #yoongi #yoongi fanfic #bts min yoongi #min yoongi #bts yoongi #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #suga bangtan #suga angst #min yoongi angst

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tinmate · 3 months ago

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It’s so important to me that the Foxes annoy Kevin.

Like the poor boy had no friends on his team and throughout his childhood. The only people he loved and cared about after his mom were

Jean, who he had to watch be and beaten and tortured and abused until the fight went out of him and then until he tried to kill himself and then be tortured again for failing to die and at least Kevin was a pet, Jean just a toy to be broken and taken away and used and discarded.

And Riko who abused him and manipulated him and took pleasure in beating him down while acting like they were closer than friends, actual brothers.

The Master who is so horrible that Kevin barely even speaks of him.

And then he’s treated as this godlike son of Exy by the public. Aside from Jeremy, it seems like the other teams aren’t even immune. He’s not a college athlete, he’s this unfathomable celebrity.

And then the Foxes are just SO unimpressed and actively annoyed with him. They bicker and tease but there’s no bite. Not like the Ravens. They drag him along on their fun excursions at knife point because it’s important that he’s there with them. They force him to have fun and ride horses and hike in the mountains while also respecting his skills on the court. They stock their home with cheese and candy bars and make him eat ice cream at crap diners and go dancing in clubs. And not all of it is healthy, Kevin’s self medicating with vodka for sure, and the behavior of the monsters is dubious at best especially in the first book, but they bring him along because they want him there. Not Kevin Day: Rising star of Exy. They want Kevin Day: Mega Nerd.

The Ravens hurt and tore each other apart in any way they could, nothing but venom and malice behind their words. Nicky calls him a brat and the in the affectionate ton calls him family. Kevin and Jean’s sexualities were used against them, another item for Riko’s amusement, the Ravens have hate sex more than actual care. Allison is visibly disgusted at the thought of hooking up and no one pushes it beyond characteristic teasing

Andrew is chronically annoyed with Kevin but follows him everywhere like a goalkeeper shaped safety blanket because years of the Nest leave Kevin anxious when alone. He’s capable of the same violence as the other Ravens but he never actually hurts Kevin until the last book. He gives Kevin his pills and his game and his house and his family and his trust but not his respect. Not always. It’s the same brutal healing he gave Matt.

Allison calls his tattoo, a number forced on him since childhood, a tramp stamp. Riko would kill him for removing it but the Foxes basically riot with happiness when he changes it.

Kevin was locked in the Nest, monitored at every move, watched and betrayed and even when he was able to leave, was shackled to Riko and Ichirou and forced to lie and perform while hurting. Wymack gives him keys to the court, to his home. Abby opens up her home for him to stay at over the holidays. Andrew and Aaron and Nicky bring him into their home and their favorite restaurant and club.

Do you think Kevin’s ever afraid of turning into Riko or Ichirou? We know Jean struggles with Raven impulses, especially when teaching. Do you think Kevin ever looked at tiny, fierce, stupid, stubborn Neil Josten and was afraid he’d hurt him on instinct? Do you think he was crushed by the honor of knowing that, in Nathaniel’s last days alive, he still wanted Kevin to train him?

No one could ever speak out against Riko, Kevin could never truly be himself. Everyone speaks out against Riko, Neil actively sasses the press.

Everyone teases Kevin and rolls their eyes and pushes his buttons while holding him close

And then, the one time true violence is turned against him by a teammate it’s in defense of Neil and immediately three other teammates intervene. They all platonically share a room because they’re so worried about Neil when he comes back. They’re angry and upset with Kevin but Andrew threatens him at knife point to go on vacation with them. They hear about the ugly truth of Kevin’s life and again and again and band around him every time. They treat him like a person, like a teammate, like family.

It’s important to me that they, like the fandom, think Kevin is a little bit of a diva and that they tell him that to his face. That they think he’s a nerd but let him ramble.

They call Neil his “mini me” and they all love Neil so much. I hope Kevin sees how they treat Neil who’s equally obsessive, equally intense, equally traumatized, equally as tied to gangsters and realizes that they love him too. That the insults and teasing are a love language

Idk man, just Kevin being treated like a person. This big burning star getting vetoed on a candy drawer and receiving his teammate's playful horror to his media personality because that is NOT our boy and being accepted for exactly who he is: a person who’s allowed to be imperfect and dramatic and safe to tease about it.

#kevin day #all for the game #aftg #this barely makes sense but he makes me emotional #the foxhole court #the raven king #the kings men #neil josten #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #allison reynolds #matt boyd #dan wilds #nicky hemmick #david wymack #abby winfield #original

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crowdedimagines · 12 days ago

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Tailspin IV - Bradley Bradshaw

summary: Bradley is a single dad and his new neighbor catches his eye. The only thing is, she might have more baggage than what's in the moving truck... 3 K 🫶🏼 series list warnings: domestic violence and stalking

It took a couple weeks for the injuries both physical and mental to heal. Jake was around the house when Bradley eventually had to go back into the station. He held up his word, but as the weeks passed and injuries turned to scars Matt returned to the back of everyone’s mind for the time being. Until the police find him or something else happens there’s not much left to do. Y/n reached out to his parents who are concerned for his wellbeing. They didn't have much else to say about it. She has redirected her focus on the kids and the house. Summer is fading and there’s still work to be done.

“Alright, do we all have shoes on?” Y/n asks as she packs her bag with everything she needs. Both of the kids call out ‘yes’ and she meets them by her front door. She has spent her morning like most now with the kids working on the house while Bradley is at work. Then they would have lunch and head out to the beach to swim and fish. Today however is different because they spent the late morning baking sweets to drop off at the station.

“Let's go!”

They climb into the bronco that Y/n had to plead to get the keys to. Jake picked Bradley up this morning with the promise that she would bring him home later tonight. So, she decided she might as well bring a treat to pick him up and for the guys during the shift change.

The windows are down and both of the kids in the backseat sing along to the radio just like their dad. Once she parks in the lot their doors fly open and they take off for the station. Y/n makes her way around to the passenger side to grab the cookies and follow behind them.

Bradley was already downstairs with the guys checking everything for the night shift to make sure they were set when he saw movement and a flash of yellow in his peripheral vision. He turns to see his two kids racing towards him, and his girl wearing the most beautiful yellow sundress he’s ever seen.

“Hey, you guys!” He cheers, picking up Sadie immediately when she meets him. Nick gives him a side hug and ditches him for the truck behind him.

“There’s my other girl.” Bradley grins now that she’s standing directly in front of him, looking very kissable. He lets Sadie down so she can join Nicky who’s climbing throughout the truck now.

“Hi baby, I thought on this hot July day, something sweet might be nice for the guys.”

“And we always appreciate it.” Jake interrupts, he leans in between them to press a kiss to her cheek and steal a cookie off the platter she’s holding. Bradley rolls his eyes and reaches out to pull her in close.

“Baby, you know it’s dangerous to wear a dress like that here.”

“How so?” She matches his grin knowingly.

“I’m gonna have to beat these guys off of you to get out of here.” He pulls her in close, pressing his nose to her neck. She smells like sunscreen, the same kind he gets for the kids. She risks a peek over her shoulder where the rest of the guys linger by the garage doors, their gaze blatant.

“Trust me, this dress is only for you.” She turns back to him and angles her head up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Alright Miss Sadie, you wanna hand these out?” Y/n calls to the open door of the truck and the young girl comes flying out to help. She helps her down the stairs and takes her hand to walk over to the group of guys. Bradley shakes his head when she throws a little extra swing to her hips and a wink over her shoulder.

He turns back to the truck to spot Nicky sitting in the driver’s seat. Bradley climbs up into the truck and settles on the bench seat behind him.

“Dad, I need to do another ride along this summer.” Nicky grins, looking over all of the different buttons in front of him. He’s itching to start the sirens and horns.

“That would be fun, we didn’t do it last year.” Bradley comments. Last year he thought that was the end of it. Nick had refused to come, claiming he would much rather spend his time with his friends fishing.

“I know.” Nick turns in his chair now so he can face Bradley. “Maybe Y/n can come too. She’s never done one before.”

“Maybe.” Bradley nods, he’ll never stop being surprised with how much his son has opened up, “So you think it would be fun to have Y/n come with?”

“Duh!” Nick laughs, “I know what I said before about her, but I changed my mind.”

“It’s okay to change your mind, buddy.” He reassures.

“I know, she’s actually pretty cool. She makes you happier too.”

“She does.”

They climb out of the truck and Bradley gives him a fistbump when he jumps the last step.

“You watching out for the girls?” Bradley asks, nodding in the direction of where Y/n is still helping Sadie pass out cookies and talking with the guys.

Nick nods and widens his stance to match Bradley’s making him hide his smirk at his little mini me. Bradley has no doubt that he is watching out for them, in his own way.

“Good job, little man.”

They walk over to join the girls and Bradley’s arm automatically wraps around her waist. He starts to lightly pull her in the direction of the parking lot.

“Bye you guys, it was nice to meet everyone!” She calls as Bradley continues to pull her away. The guys chirp some comments to Bradley about him hiding her away. He traps her in his arms and fishes the Bronco’s keys out of her purse in a quick motion.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive home?” She asks.

He stops in his tracks to cut her a look over his shoulder. He unlocks the door and opens the rear to help Sadie in. Nicky opens Y/n’s door before climbing in the back himself.

“Baby, I may trust you with my first girl, but I’m not sitting in that passenger seat.” He sighs, putting the keys in so the engine can roar to life.

“You hear that, Sadie? He’s saying this car was his first girl.” Y/n turns in her seat to make a face at the young girl.

“Daddy?” Her sweet voice calls.

“Oh you’re pure evil.” He mutters only loud enough for the front seat to hear.

The drive back to the house feels normal. Neither Bradley nor Y/n could’ve known just how comfortable they would be a couple months after she moved in next door. He parks in the driveway and the kids dart inside, ready to start dinner and put on a movie. The pair of them are slower walking up the steps to the front door.

“Thank you for today. I could use a few more days like today.” Bradley presses one, two, three kisses to her lips before pulling open the front door to head inside.

“Lucky for you, I think we have a lot more of those days in store.”

“Hey-”

She bends down suddenly to pick up a postcard that was simply laying out on the welcome mat, just by the edge of Bradley’s boot. He nearly stepped on it walking in, somehow both of the kids missed it too when they ran in.

She rises back up slowly, not eager to flip it over. It’s a Southport postcard, the beach and lighthouse on full display. Sun shinning. Bradley is sure he's seen that at Hanks on a spinning rack over the years with a dozen other postcards.

“It’s from Matt.” She says this with confidence before even having to check.

“Flip it over.”

She gets goosebumps all over, and she hopes Bradley doesn’t notice. She holds the card in her hand but hesitates to flip it over to the back. Once she does, she knows it’s going to ruin their day. What a perfect day it was.

Wish you were here. I still know you better than he ever will. -M

No name. No address, Just that sentence and the simple ‘M’ to sign as if they couldn’t figure it out on their own.

“He was here.” Bradley sighs.

“He knows where you live, I should go. I need to get away from the kids and-”

“Hey, hey hey.” He reaches out a hand to hers to slow her down from tearing off of his porch. She’s shaking, even in the humid eighty degree weather.

“Bradley-”

“Hey, just listen to me.” He places a hand on each side of her face, “This is crossing a line. This means he’s not just threatening you anymore. He’s threatening my family.”

“I know, that’s why I should leave. If I go, he’ll leave you guys alone.”

“And do what to you?” Bradley scoffs, “Please, you’re not alone in this. You never were, but he’s crossed a line coming to our home and leaving this. I’m not playing defense anymore.”

They head inside, and Bradley does a casual sweep of the house while Y/n distracts the kids by starting dinner. Bradley also takes a minute while upstairs to call the sheriff. He knows him well from work over the years, but he needs him to be more involved. See what he can do about having a detail put on the house. He has the post card in an evidence bag waiting for them to come by in the morning.

✿

After dinner, a movie, and a couple bedtime stories the kids go to bed. Bradley wastes no time getting a bottle of wine and two glasses on his back porch.

“Tomorrow the security company will be by to install cameras on both of the houses.”

“Please let me pay for the cameras.”

“No-”

“Technically that’s his money, I’m happy to use it against him.” She reminds.

“I’ll consider it.”

“Tomorrow we should have a conversation with the kids about what's going on. They should be aware and I’m sure they’ll have questions about everything that’s going on.”

“This feels…. Real. You, me, the kids. I didn’t think I would ever want this again, but now I don’t know how I was living without it.”

“Bradley.” She sighs, her eyes watering. She crumbles into his chest and he wraps a large arm around her holding her tight against him.

✿

They make breakfast all together, but it’s a little quieter than usual. The kids sit at the counter waiting patiently while Y/n slices some fruit and Bradley mans the stove.

“Alright team, can we talk for a minute?” Bradley asks, he turns to face them. Y/n looks tense, and he knows she didn’t sleep well last night. Tossing and turning, even when wrapped her up close in his arms.

Nick reads the tone and he darts between who to look at. Anytime he’s heard this serious tone on his dad it’s always come with terrible news.

“Is Y/n staying for another sleepover?” Sadie asks, taking note of the fact she truly has spent more nights with them than her own that’s twenty feet away. Y/n flashes red for a second while Bradley just chuckles.

“Yeah, she is but it’s not just a sleepover. We need to talk about something, but I want to start off with saying everyone is safe.”

Bradley plates the eggs and bacon and walks over to the island and places one in front of everyone. Y/n adds fruit to each plate, silently watching the conversation unfold.

“Someone from Y/n’s past, someone who made her feel scared, showed up yesterday.”

“The postcard?”

“Yeah, buddy.” He nods, “It wasn’t okay that he was here, but we know now and we’re handling it together.”

“He’s a bad guy?” Sadie finally asks.

“Yeah, but thankfully Daddy is very good at dealing with bad guys. And we have other people helping too, the police, Uncle Jake, and Aunty Nat.”

“Y/n, you can have my nightlight.”

“That is very sweet Sadie Bug.” Bradley presses a kiss to the top of her head.

“So he came to the house?” Nick questions.

“He did, so that is why we are going to have to be more cautious.”

“Is that why you were in the hospital?” Nick’s eyes dart to Y/n, unwavering.

“No, no of course not Nick.” She leaves her spot to wrap her arms around Nick in a quick hug, “That was me genuinely being accident prone.”

“We’re gonna be safe. I’m always going to protect you guys, no matter what.” Bradley presses another kiss to the top of Sadie’s head and pulls Nicky in close to do the same.

✿

Later that day the security installation team shows up and Bradley gives them the rundown on everything they need. Y/n manages to sneak them a check for both houses before Bradley can catch her. It takes a couple days of peace for the family to settle a little more again. Still, it’s not as relaxed as before. Looking over every shoulder, checking every closet. It’s becoming exhausting.

Golden light filters through the light green curtains of Bradley’s bedroom. They’re both awake, but still silently waking to each other and the world. Y/n is curled against Bradley’s chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breath.

“Why don’t we drive down to San Diego for the weekend?”

Bradley is still half asleep, but knows he needs to get up and shower so he can be to work on time.

“Run away with me?” He teases.

“Exactly.” She grins, tracing a soft pattern along the lines on his chest, following the muscles, “A mini family vacation. After you get off work we can pick them up from dance class and the pier and then we just drive down there.”

“Trying to seduce me with a little sunshine and a hotel room?” He teases, his arm that was wrapped around her back pulls her up to straddle him. Now he can see her fully.

“Trying to seduce you with a weekend of not looking over our shoulders and the kids having something fun to remember for this summer.”

She lifts her head to look at him more seriously now, she stops tracing him and lets her hands fall to her sides.

“I just want to feel normal, all of us again. Remember that brief snippet of bliss? For one weekend we can handle it. For them and for us.”

Bradley watches her closely while he thinks. Trying to find the risk and concern with travel and what the reward of going. It can be any more dangerous than staying in a house where he already knows they are.

"Plus we can see Nat when we're down there too! We can always check on the house through the new app from the security."

“Okay, let’s go.” He grins, she cheers and leans down to press a dozen kisses all over his face, “I get off around five so I can pick you up and then we’ll get the kids.”

She smiles wildly, and Bradley’s sure this is the lightest she’s looked in weeks.

✿

Bradley manages to get off work a little early, Jake insisting that Y/n’s idea was great and he was happy to take over a little early. Bradley wants to help pack so she doesn’t have to take care of everything. He grabs the yellow daisies off the dash and climbs his stairs two at a time to the front door.

He’s ready to call out ‘honey I’m home’ when he reaches for the doorknob and it’s cracked. His instincts take over and his heart plummets. Quiet. Alert. Every movement and sound is precise. He steps inside, the living room looks untouched. He can see Y/n’s phone sitting plainly on the kitchen counter. He doesn’t dare call out her name, not when he doesn’t know who’s here.

The kitchen looks normal, he clears the first floor before softly climbing the stairs. Sadie’s room is cleaner than he’s sure she left it and her small suitcase is zipped on top of her bed. Nick’s room is the same. Carefully, he pushes open the door to his room. Their room.

His familiar duffle is on his side of the bed and her bag is open on her side. There’s still a neat stack of clothes next to it.

“Y/n?” He calls softly, carefully stepping into the bathroom, hoping and praying she’s on the other side of the door. Nothing.

He moves quickly now, rushing down the steps and double checking every area he can. Her house. He leaps over the short fence between their properties. Her front door is locked and he reaches through his keys to pull open the door. Nothing. Not a single thing in her house is out of place. He comes back to their room, it’s obvious that’s what she was doing last before she went missing. He comes back to her unzipped duffle. A lone postcard sitting plainly inside.

This postcard is a darker picture of Southport. Taken at night. Bradley roughly grabs it and doesn’t wait to flip it over.

Too late.

YOU GUYS ... part five (aka last part) coming soon

#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #top gun rooster #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #tailspin #top gun x reader #top gun imagine #top gun

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inthelibrarybtw · 4 months ago

Text

you want me to pretend? | three

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: college!basketball!captain!rafe x college!student!reader content: fluff, teasing, college au, smau/irl

summary: You were trying to make one problem disappear. You were tired, so you lied. That small lie led you to contact the last person you wanted to ask for help. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Rafe; only that you didn’t want to deal with his constant teasing more than you already did. Also, you two weren't that close, but this one lie was going to bring you two closer and maybe help some truths come to light.

word count: 2.1k

authors note: I just want to thank everyone for all the love this has been getting, I love that you love them just as much as I do. Also thanks to @rafesbabygirlx for helping me decide what to do with this part.

02 | 03 | 04

Wednesday

He was shocked, to say the least. But he would be lying if he didn’t find it appealing. Also, even a bit cute that you had chosen to ask him for this out of all your friends.

“Wait, let me see if I got it right…” he paused. “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend for a night?” He asked, still shocked and trying to see if you were joking. But you never joked, at least not with him.

“Yes,” he knew you weren’t joking now so he decided to take the teasing route.

“And what do I get from this?” he asked with a smirk on his face

“A free dinner?”

“Oh come on Y/N I know you can do better than that” he teased making you sigh

“I don’t know… what do you want?” you start to feel actual panic setting in. How were you supposed to convince him?

“I can think of a few things” he smirked, he was just making things difficult for fun, you didn’t find it funny.

“Why do you have to be like this?”

“It’s fun to see you annoyed” he smiled

“You are the worst”

“Hate me all you want but we both know it’s all fake or you wouldn’t be here” he had to suppress the urge to boop your nose knowing it was going to piss you off.

“I never said I hated you, you are just extremely annoying”

“I like to say I’m charming”

“Full of yourself”

“Who else am I supposed to be full of?” he lifted an eyebrow, and you sighed defeated.

“Rafe, please… I will owe you one no questions asked”

“Oh well now that you say that” he smirked again taking a few steps to get closer to you. “I might take you up on that princess” he changed his tone to a more flirty one

“You disgust me”

“Ah don’t be like that, I’m your boyfriend now” he wiggled his eyebrows. His smirk was still plastered on his face.

You felt a sense of relief at those words, he had agreed to help you.

“Thank you” you gave him a half smile

“Sure but I do have a few questions though”

“About?”

“Why did you have to look for a pretend boyfriend?”

“Long story”

“Will I ever know?”

“Maybe but not today.” you paused for a second “I’ll send you my location and let you know what I need you to do that day”

“Fine by me”

“Thank you again, really”

“Thank me after I have charmed your parents”

“Fine whatever, bye”

“Bye princess”

“Can you not?”

“You are my girlfriend now I have to be nice and sweet talk you” he smirked again, he was enjoying this a bit too much.

“Fake one, and for a night”

“Let me have my moment” You rolled your eyes and walked away.

He saw you walk away with a big smile on his face. He shook his head and chuckled to himself before going back to his practice.

Thursday

Today - Friday

You had been anxious since the moment you woke up. Kelce hadn’t shown up to statistics that day because he had gone out with Nicki according to him to end things finally. So you had been left alone to deal with Rafe on your own. Anyone would expect him to be solely focused on basketball since he was captain, but no, he truly cared for classes and his grades.

Just today he seemed a bit more chatty and you couldn’t wonder if it was because today was the day. Yes, THE day.

“So tell me, why don’t you want people to know?”

“Because I don’t. I’m not gonna tell people I had to look for a fake boyfriend because my parents pushed me to my limit”

“Ah so there is a reason, and here I thought you didn’t want to share”

“I said maybe so here I am, plus it seemed fair to tell you since you agreed to help me”

“Aw thanks” he put a hand over his chest pretending to feel touched. “So tell me more”

“My mom has been a bit worried I haven’t dated a guy in more than a year and lately she has been more pushy and all that so I lied saying I had been seeing this guy for the past two months to keep her quiet”

“And I’m guessing it didn’t work as you expected…”

“Yeah, they asked for his name and all”

“Okay wait…” he smirked “So you said my name?” You rolled your eyes and sighed. There was no point in denying it.

“Yes but only because you were texting the group chat nonstop and then to my chat so I panicked and said your name” he felt the honesty in your words but he was going to take the chance and tease you.

“No need to make excuses I feel honored that you thought of me”

“You love to have something to tease me with”

“Oh yes I do”

You kept the small talk for a bit more until it was time to work. You did all your classwork together and finished first.

“Okay so one more question, how did we meet? How did we start dating? I’m assuming they will ask questions” You turned to look at him; a sense of relief washed over you. He was going to help you.

“Yeah… let’s just say Kelce introduced us, which is the truth, and…” he cut you off

“He invited you to a game, he introduced us and we hit it off”

“Sound believable so it’s okay”

“Now hobbies, I know you like reading but like things we do together”

“Uh… watching movies, I guess I go to your games”

“That’s kind of a given, let’s say you are my lucky charm” he teases and you chuckle. You had to admit it, he was being more positive than what you had expected. Maybe the dinner wouldn’t be that horrible.

After the unexpected call, you continued with your stress-baking. It always helped you to take your mind off things and for the hour and a half hour that it took you to bake, you had accomplished not thinking about anything else. You noticed the time and decided to start getting ready.

You went to your room to get ready. The first thing you did was go through your closet to find something nice to wear, you settled on a floral dress you liked and called it a day. With your dress on you went to do your hair and after that, you sat down to put makeup on. As soon as you started doing your makeup and humming to the songs that were playing you got lost in the process and found comfort in something you did almost daily.

By the time you were done, it was almost time and the nerves settled in for good this time. As soon as the doorbell rang you felt a pit in your stomach. You took a deep breath and walked down to open the door.

When you got downstairs, your mom was about to open the door. You tried to hurry, but it was too late, and she was already opening it.

“Hello! You must be Rafe.”

“I am, nice to meet you,” he said, extending his hand to her.

“Mom, I was going to get the door.” You finally entered his field of vision. He felt time stop for a second; you looked beautiful. You always looked put together, but today was different—your hair, the dress, the makeup; it was all different.

“Well, look at you, princess! You look beautiful,” he said as he walked in, kissing the top of your head. You gave him a soft smile. Meanwhile, your mom looked at the scene in front of her, her heart leaping at what she was seeing.

You felt extremely awkward, but after taking another deep breath, you took Rafe’s hand and guided him to your living room. For Rafe, the house felt cozy, and it made sense that you were how you were if you had grown up in a place like this.

When you walked into the living room, you were met by your dad reading something on his phone.

“Dad, this is Rafe… Rafe, this is my dad.” Your dad lifted his gaze and smiled as he stood up.

“Ah! You are the guy she hasn’t stopped talking about all week.” You hadn’t done it on purpose, but they had been asking a lot of questions about him, and you answered. Rafe just chuckled and squeezed your hand gently, as if marking that comment to tease you later.

“It’s a pleasure to meet the parents of this pretty girl,” your dad smiled at the comment.

“Come on, sit down,” your mom motioned to the couch.

“So, Y/N tells me you play basketball.”

“Yes, I have been captain since last year. It has been a great experience so far.”

With that, the conversation flowed. You still felt like you were in flight or fight mode, but seeing how Rafe was handling the situation was better than you had expected. You had moved to the dining room to have dinner, and the conversation had continued. Your parents had asked every question they could imagine. Now Rafe was telling the story of how you two had met.

“We have friends in common, and for a game, she was sitting with them in the stands, and I couldn’t stop looking at her during the whole game." He paused. "I had seen her in a class before and barely exchanged words, but I knew I had to talk to her. So at the end of the game, I asked one of our friends to introduce us, and he did.”

It was all half-truths; you two had met in a class, and that same week, you had gone to one of his games not knowing he was playing. You all had hung out that day after the game, and from that point forward, you two had, in a way, become friends—more acquaintances since you two never hung out just the two of you or talked outside of college and homework.

"That’s so sweet! Who is the friend?"

"Kelce," you both answered simultaneously.

"We’ll thank him next time we see him for bringing you into her life." At that moment, you panicked; no way that was happening.

"I’m going to make sure to tell him," Rafe said, reassuring your mom. You turned to look at him.

"You are a good one, Rafe," your mom said.

"Well..." you paused. "I’m going to bring the dessert."

"Do you need help?" Rafe asked, and you nodded. He excused himself and followed you to the kitchen. Once the two of you were out of earshot, he spoke.

"Your parents are great," he said as you pulled a berry cheesecake out of the fridge. "Oh wow, that looks amazing"

"They are, and thanks. I take pride in my baking," you smiled, setting the cheesecake on the counter to take out some new plates.

"You bake?"

"I do; it’s one of my hobbies."

"Hmm, you are full of surprises."

"What can I say?" you replied with a smile, exiting the kitchen.

He grabbed the cheesecake and brought it to the table as you placed the plates next to it. As soon as it was served and everyone was seated, the conversation continued as if nothing had happened. Everything that you hadn’t discussed how to answer came out naturally. During dinner, both you and he saw each other in a different light. You had learned so much about him thanks to your parents' questions, and he had learned so much about you from the way you interacted with your parents and from what your mom had told him about you.

He understood why it had been a big deal for your parents when you had told them about dating someone. You didn’t know, but your mom had shared a bit of the backstory, and it had made him feel some kind of way. He could see how much your mom cared for you, and seeing you so heartbroken last time had worried her. She didn’t want you to close yourself off before, so seeing him there had assured her you were going to be okay. He was never going to bring this up with you, even though he was curious about what had happened.

When everyone noticed the time, it was 9:25 PM. Rafe helped clear the table and began saying his goodbyes. You sighed silently; it was finally over, and it had gone great.

"Rafe, before you go, why don’t you come over on Sunday?" your dad asked right as he was about to leave. Your face dropped; this was supposed to be just one night.

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megalony · 3 months ago

Text

Special Victim

It's been quite a while since I wrote for Elliot Stabler from Law and Order SVU. But I suddenly got inspired by re-watching and I thought it would be fun to write another story for him.

I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

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Main Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: While Elliot is at work over the weekend, (Y/n) takes the kids out for a while. But things take a turn for the worst when their youngest girl goes missing.

Enjoy.

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

A smile wormed its way onto Elliot's face when he felt (Y/n) murmur something softly into his chest. He shuffled closer and buried his lips against the top of her head in her hair. His fingers ran up and down her back like feathers tickling over her skin and he felt the way it made her shiver.

He could feel (Y/n)'s lips pressing into his chest, silently letting him know that she was awake too. His body clock had woken him a little while before his alarm and (Y/n) always woke up whenever she felt Elliot awake beside her. She didn't sleep well without him which was another reason Elliot wasn't too happy about being on call for the next few days.

On call meant he would most likely not be home until after the weekend. Especially if they had a long case load or a new case that involved billions of leads they had to follow up.

Elliot wasn't ready for a long weekend at work where the most likely possibility was that he was only going to come home to sleep- if he even managed to get home at all. And he didn't want the balance to shift the wrong way where he lived at the precinct and visited his home.

He wanted to stay right where he was, laid in bed with his wife in his arms and his daughters close by in their rooms.

The feel of (Y/n)'s lips pressing to his neck made him take in a deep breath but when she grazed her teeth along his skin, he growled into her hair.

This was a better morning wake up than he had a few days ago. He wondered why he dreamt he had been drowning until he realised he had been laid on his back with (Y/n) sprawled out on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

Elliot liked mornings like these the best when they woke up before the alarm went off and had time together.

"Do you have to go soon?" (Y/n) muttered the words quietly against his neck, her voice laced with sleep but her actions proved she was wide awake.

"Hm, I've got time."

(Y/n)'s eyes shot open and a gasp tumbled past her lips when the arm around her waist tightened and his palm pressed flat against her lower back so he could flip them over. He rolled her onto her back, muffling her quiet laugh as he moved to kneel between her legs. Elliot's hands planted down on the pillow either side of her head, caging her in beneath him like she was his prey and his teeth flashed in a sharp grin that looked animalistic.

She brought her hands up to cup his face, smoothing her thumbs over his cheekbones as he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips.

"This has to go," Elliot muttered the words quietly against her lips, drinking in the taste of them until he was positively drunk and (Y/n) was gasping against his mouth. His hands moved down to her sides as his weight shifted to rest on his knees so he could scrunch up the bottom of her shirt that clung to her curves like a second skin that left very little to the imagination.

He didn't have to say anything for (Y/n) to lean up so he could slowly peel it off and her grin made his heart jump.

He threw the small, flimsy material down on the floor and gave the cover a nudge until it fell off his back and crumpled to the bottom of the bed. He was starting to burn up already, they didn't need any extra layers covering them.

While he took a moment to admire the view in front of him, (Y/n) took her chance to scrape her nails agonisingly slow over his skin, starting from his abdomen and she worked her way up until her hands were curved around his neck. Her fingers tickled the small hairs at the back of his neck and she sat up to meet him in the middle, moulding her chest against his before she pulled his lips down to hers.

(Y/n) could feel the fever behind his kiss and the way his fingertips dug bruisingly into her hips when she pushed her chest up against him just to irritate him and goad him further.

When she pulled back, (Y/n) sucked his lower lip between her teeth and gave a small tug until she could feel the growl deep within his chest, rumbling through into her own.

"Baby," Elliot's groan was deep and the word was a warning.

He didn't have a lot of time before the alarm was going to go off and he didn't like being teased.

Her fingertips slid away from the back of his neck and trailed their way back down the middle of his chest, covering every square inch that she could. Her plump lips left Elliot's and moved towards his razor sharp jaw and when she could feel him starting to quiver beneath her, she started to kiss down his neck.

The moment her teeth grazed against the junction between his neck and shoulder, about to leave a mark, Elliot suddenly clenched her wrists in a tight grip and leaned his weight onto her again. He pushed her down on the bed and fell forward until his chest slammed into hers and her hands were pinned down on the mattress. Elliot tried to keep some of his weight pushed back on his legs and his elbows so he didn't crush his wife beneath him, but he could still feel every crevace of her moulded up against him.

"My turn." There was something demanding and authorative in his voice that was not to be messed with and all (Y/n) could do was turn to jelly beneath his touch.

She barely had chance to gasp before Elliot smothered her mouth with his and let his tongue explore past her lips.

Wet kisses were peppered along her neck and down the middle of her throat so every time she gasped or swallowed, Elliot could feel each movement. He let go of her hands and moved his fingertips across her sides and down the dips and curves to that special area just above her hips where (Y/n) was ticklish. He loved the way her stomach would pull in and she would jump against his touch when all he had to do was lightly trace the pad of his finger along her skin and it had her gasping and laughing beneath him.

She felt his hand move and his arm wrapped like an iron bar around her back just above her bum so he could reel her in and pull her closer. He held her so close and tight that he lifted her up from her bed and she had to shuffle her weight onto the back of her legs to stay tall against him like this. Her hands dug tightly into his shoulders to steady herself, but a silent gasp left her lips when his other hand dug lovingly into the underside of her thigh.

(Y/n) felt her back hit the headboard and her knees coiled up as Elliot shifted forward so he was leaning on her chest and kneeled between her spread legs. He dug his nails tighter into her thigh and moved her leg to hook it around his hip so he could brace his hand on the wall behind the bed. The last thing he wanted was to put all of his weight onto (Y/n) or give her bruises down her spine from the wooden headboard.

"Your alarm," (Y/n) panted against his lips, barely feeling able to speak from how close Elliot's lips were hovering over hers. Swallowing up her words and getting ready to attack her lips again. "If Rosie hears it, she'll come in here."

With Elliot's other kids staying here, it was a bit different. They were teens, they were older and chances were they either wouldn't hear Elliot's alarm or they would just ignore it. But Rosie wouldn't. Their toddler was three and if she heard the alarm, she would barge into their room without knocking or caring at all.

"We've got ten minutes," He muttered back, dragging her lower lip between his teeth as something darkened in his eyes.

Elliot leaned down and buried his face in the crook of (Y/n)'s neck, panting against her skin as he flapped his left hand out to turn off his alarm that was now blaring out. His lips curved into a grin when he felt (Y/n) shudder against him as he parted his lips and sank his teeth down into the soft flesh.

"Rosie's up." (Y/n) mumbled as her fingers scratched and cupped the back of his neck while he paused to try and strain his ears.

"I'll get her," (Y/n) cupped Elliot's face in her hands so she could peck his lips again. But she didn't get to move far before Elliot nudged her back against the bed an gave her thigh a squeeze.

"No, she's mine until I have to leave," With a lasting kiss to her lips and his teeth nipped at the corner of her mouth, Elliot pulled away and clambered off the bed.

Elliot wanted to get Rosie up and see all the kids before he had to head to the precinct and wait for the chaos to ensue and the weekend to drag out into a year. Since being married to (Y/n), they had had Elliot's kids stay with them every other weekend and through the holidays. They were over as much as they could and this was their weekend to be here.

Sometimes Elliot was surprised that Kathleen still wanted to come round. She was the eldest, she was nineteen and if she didn't want to stop over with Elliot and (Y/n), she didn't have to. She could come round and see them or go out with them and then just go back home. But she wanted to come round along with her siblings and stay with them.

It had been a worry when (Y/n) got pregnant that it might cause a rift between them all. Elliot worried his kids might not understand or that they would be upset, but the only person who hadn't been pleased was Elliot's ex, Kathy. The kids had been surprisingly welcoming and they all took to Rosie the moment she was born.

He snapped his pants back over his hips, stretched his arms above his head and left the room to head over into Rosie's room.

"Mornin' baby, you gonna get up with me today?"

Rosie's tired, toothy grin made Elliot's heart leap in his chest and he smiled brightly when she sat up and held her arms out expectingly. Her head tilted back and she pursed her lips until Elliot gave her a kiss and lifted her up so he could settle her on his chest.

Elliot could feel the heartache gnawing away at his chest already. Leaving this morning was going to be near impossible.

"Elliot!"

He looked down and shared a look with Rosie as they wandered out and looked into the hall. Their eyes landed on (Y/n) and Elliot bit his lip at the sight, unable to tear his gaze away. She was stood leaning against their bedroom door, one arm crossed over her chest and one knee bent forward, exposing her thighs to his prying gaze.

It was clear (Y/n) had grabbed the closest piece of clothing she could so she was somewhat decent in front of the girls. She was stood in one of Elliot's shirts and it was clear to his perceptive gaze that she wasn't wearing a bra. And he grinned triumphantly when he noticed her hair was skewed and stuck up at all angles, giving away their morning activity.

Moving her hand, (Y/n) shook her phone from side to side, silently beckoning Elliot over to her so he could see what had her looking rather unimpressed and unsettled.

He walked over until he was stood in front of her and raked his eyes up and down her body a few more times until (Y/n) nudged him and held the phone out, allowing him to see the message she got from Olivia. Elliot leaned down and narrowed his eyes, bouncing Rosie on his hip as she leaned her cheek on his shoulder and smiled sweetly.

A groan tumbled past Elliot's lips and he tilted his head back as he closed his eyes and tried to take a normal breath.

Oh dear.

Munch was off sick. Being a man down and Elliot being on call only meant one thing. Elliot would be staying at the precinct all weekend. And this was his weekend to have the kids, and all of them were here.

"I guess you won't be home this weekend." (Y/n) wanted to be annoyed with him. She wanted to be angry that he wasn't going to be here when it was his time to spend with the kids. She wanted to be mad that the bosses at the police department didn't care about how many hours their workers did or the fact that most of them did twenty four hour stunts and barely went home to sleep before they came back.

But that wasn't Elliot's fault. He was being paid for being on call and this was his job. All of them were used to it, and the girls- and Dickie- didn't have to go back home. They could still stay the weekend and be with (Y/n) and Rosie and have some fun together.

"I… I'll talk to Cragen, see if I can come back any earlier tomorrow. Baby I'm sorry."

Cragen was understanding. He knew that most of the team had families to go home to or partners to see. And he knew about Elliot's situation with the kids and how he tried to do overtime on the weeks when he didn't have all his kids at home. That meant he could still spend time with them when they came over and didn't miss out on being with them.

The divorce with Kathy had been hard enough and Elliot had been forced to miss out on time with the kids during that period of his life. He didn't want that happening again.

(Y/n) folded her arms back over her chest but nodded all the same. She knew it wasn't Elliot's fault and they couldn't do very much about it now.

"Morning."

Elliot smiled and leaned down to kiss Lizzie's temple when she weaved behind him and headed for the stairs. She wasn't dressed yet, but Elliot didn't expect her to be. She liked to lounge around in her pyjamas until it was time to go out and do something.

"Morning… dare I ask what you've been up to?" The way Kathleen looked Elliot up and down when she came out of her room made him sigh and roll his lips together.

His eldest had a smirk playing on her lips and one brow arched as she took in his appearance as he stood in the hall only wearing his boxers, with Rosie on his hip. Kathleen's smile stayed on her lips when she looked over at (Y/n), clearly guessing what they had been up to before she turned to look at her youngest sibling.

"Come on, we'll make breakfast." She reached across and took Rosie from Elliot's arms, walking off with her youngest sister in her arms, babbling her ear off.

Suddenly Elliot wished he wasn't on call this weekend.

***

"Can we go to the book shop?" Lizzie looked up at (Y/n), staying close to her side as they walked at a slow pace, weaving in between the sea of people surrounding them.

"Sure, we can go on the way back."

(Y/n) glanced her eyes around their little group and found herself smiling when she noticed Kathleen was in her own little world, bopping her head every now and then to the music playing through the speakers. While Maureen and Dickie were chattering away about something (Y/n) couldn't keep track nor make sense of.

Yesterday had been a bit of a slow day for them all, so today they decided to come out to the shops for a girls day and a look around. (Y/n) had hoped that since it was Sunday, the shops might be less crowded. But she figured it was this busy because it was the weekend. At least none of the girls were bothered that the shopping centre was busy, they were just happy to be out and about.

It was clear that Lizzie wasn't too keen on the crowds by the way that she kept walking close to (Y/n)'s side. And every now and then, she would reach out and hold onto the pushchair as if to ensure that she wouldn't end up straying or getting lost. It didn't matter that she was thirteen now, she still wanted to feel safe.

"Can we go in here?" Kathleen pointed to the clothes shop on her left, smiling brighter when (Y/n) nodded and none of her siblings looked to disagree. They all steered through the crowd and headed into the shop.

The shopping centre was rather busy but the shop itself looked to be crammed full of people. This shop in particular looked to be lively and bustling with people hovering around and trying on different items.

As they all headed into the shop, (Y/n) tried to keep an eye on the kids, but it was hard when there was five of them and only (Y/n) to watch them. Kathleen was more like another adult rather than a child, but (Y/n) still felt the need to keep an eye on her too and make sure she was alright.

It wasn't too often that (Y/n) got to take all of the kids out on her own and when she and Elliot first got married, this was something that would have petrified her. When she had been trying to get to know the kids and get along with them, it had been Dickie who had been cold and abrupt with her. But when (Y/n) told him she wasn't trying to be his mother and that she was never going to intervene with his relationship with his dad, that Dickie finally made an effort and they started to get along.

"Can I go upstairs?" Dickie turned to look across at (Y/n) and he pointed ahead to the sign above the escalator.

The boys section was upstairs, and there was no way he was going to be dragged around all the girls stuff by each of his sisters.

"Sure, just don't leave the shop please." He was thirteen, (Y/n) didn't need to have him in her sights at all times, but she couldn't have him or any of the others leaving the shop without her. They all knew that, they were smart kids. And with Elliot being a detective, it was drilled into them all to be safe and careful and stick to the parent taking them out.

"What do you girls want to look at?" (Y/n) darted her eyes between the four girls stood with her and noticed that Rosie was holding onto Maureen's hand.

Rosie had spent most of the morning in the pushchair, but she had gotten extremely lively so they let her walk around, as long as she held someone's hand. And as soon as she was out of the pushchair, the twins had placed their bags in the chair so they didn't have to carry them for a while.

(Y/n) knew that Rosie and Lizzie didn't really care what they looked at, they were just happy browsing. But Kathleen and Maureen were a bit older, they had their own style and they knew exactly what they wanted to search for.

"They have some cool stuff at the back." Kathleen was pointing and leading the way before anyone could argue with her or make an objection.

All the older, mature clothes were at the back of the store but they could stop and browse along the way.

"Come on- Rosie no this way,"

(Y/n)'s eyes switched between Kathleen who was already disappearing out of sight, and Rosie who let go of Maureen's hand and was aiming for the escalator, presumably to follow after Dickie. She would usually follow the others around like a little shadow.

"There's kids stuff upstairs, I'll take her." Maureen pointed to the escalators, already moving off after Rosie before (Y/n) could respond.

She would meet them up there, Rosie could cause havoc and (Y/n) didn't want to leave the three of them up there for long on their own. She watched them head up the escalators before she moved forward with Lizzie, following after Kathleen who was already picking out a few things she liked.

After wandering around for a few minutes, Lizzie found a dark grey cardigan that felt like a cloud and she held it out towards (Y/n) and grinned. "Can I get this one?" She looped it around her shoulders as soon as (Y/n) nodded and she wore it like a cape.

(Y/n) knew what would happen with that cardigan; it wouldn't be washed until it was either crumpled or extremely stained. Lizzie loved the texture and smell of new clothes, and cardigans that fluffy never felt the same after they had been washed.

"Let's go see what they're all doing upstairs."

(Y/n) heard Kathleen mumble "I'm be up in a minute." and she hummed as she and Lizzie headed towards the lift at the back of the shop. They couldn't exactly get the pushchair up the escalators, and Kathleen would follow them once she was done browsing.

"When's dad coming home?"

"I'm not sure, he might be home tonight if we're lucky." She hadn't heard from Elliot since last night when he rang to talk to the kids before they went to bed. (Y/n) knew he had been busy this weekend and she knew Elliot would be in need of some sleep when he finally came home. She didn't want to message him and bother him when he was busy, it would be better to just wait and be surprised when he finally came home.

When the lift opened, (Y/n) followed Lizzie and let her lead the way between the clothes racks and shelves stocked with various jumpers and shirts and bottoms. They passed the boys section and moved towards the other side where there was a large section of clothes that appealed to Lizzie straight away.

They found Dickie rather easily, looking as if he were in a world of his own as he scoured through the shirts hanging on the rack.

"What have you found?" (Y/n) folded her arms over the pushchair handle and leaned forward, clicking her spine into place. She smiled softly as Dickie held out one shirt he had found so far which appealed to him and would suit his ever changing style. It was a pale grey short-sleeved shirt with a polo neck.

Lizzie mumbled "Nice," and nodded at her twin before she turned away and looked through some of the stuff on the other side of the aisle.

"Where are the girls?"

"Haven't seen them up here." Dickie shrugged his shoulders and glanced around. He hadn't seen any of his sisters up here, except for his twin stood a few feet to his right. He had been immersed in scanning the shop for anything his style but this place lacked almost anything Dickie liked.

(Y/n) hummed and turned around so she could wander over to the kid's section. She could feel both twins following behind her, clearly wanting to stick with her rather than look around. Dickie was bored with this shop anyway and he had found something he wanted, that was enough. And Lizzie wasn't very bothered with finding anything else since she had the cardigan on her shoulders.

She peered into each aisle, looking for any sight of Maureen's dirty blonde hair or Rosie's curls and tried to listen out for their voices. They couldn't have gotten far, but Rosie could cause mayhem if she wanted to and (Y/n) didn't want that happening.

When Lizzie spotted one of her elder sisters, she reached out and tapped Maureen's shoulder, peering around the fifteen year old for any sign of their youngest sibling. "Where's Rosie?"

Maureen looked like she had been in the middle of something because her eyes widened and she took a step back when she turned to face the three of them.

"She keeps wandering and hiding in the clothes." Maureen flitted her hand out at her side to imply that she was scouting round for the toddler.

Rosie had been hiding in the clothes rack and then jumping out, playing hide and seek with Maureen. But the toddler was getting very good at this game and Maureen was getting distracted.

The fifteen year old went down another aisle to try and find Rosie while (Y/n) peered around, with the twins close at her side, both of them clearly ready to leave the shop.

Maureen hadn't been holding Rosie's hand because the toddler kept pulling and veering this way and that, it was easier to follow after her than keep wrangling with her hand and pulling her back. And Rosie liked walking around and being nosey, she was only good when Dickie carried her on his shoulders. Something he secretly loved to do because he'd never had a younger sibling before.

There weren't many people up on this floor, the shop had been much busier downstairs in the adult section which was good for the kids. They could roam around up here without getting in the way or bumping into people.

(Y/n) kept looking around, but she could feel her smile fading when she watched Maureen walk back over to them, empty-handed and without a smile.

"She… she was just here."

A shudder tore through (Y/n)'s blood and all traces of a smile faded from her face. Rosie wasn't the kind of child to wander far. She was a nervous child by nature, she didn't like being far from her family, but she was likely to talk to strangers. The first time she went to the precinct to meet Elliot's team, she talked to anyone and everyone and followed them around, especially Olivia.

If people were friendly with her, she assumed they were nice and safe to be around.

Without saying anything, (Y/n) reached out and shoved the pushchair up against the wall so it wasn't in the way. She didn't particularly care about the few bags resting in the chair, apart from her handbag which she hooked on her shoulder.

She felt Lizzie reach out for her hand and she deadlocked the thirteen year old's hand in her tight grip and began looking. She needed Rosie back here with them now before she wandered too far or hurt herself or got into trouble.

"Rosie? Rosie, baby come here."

"Rosie… Rosie?" Dickie hunched forward so he could try and look towards the bottom of the clothes racks, praying to see a tiny pair of feet sticking out or notice some sort of movement to find his little sister.

He kept (Y/n) and his twin in his sights at all times as they wandered around the shop, moving faster and faster with each passing second as all of them started to become anxious. He could feel Maureen hovering close by as the four of them scoured round to try and find Rosie. She was the youngest sibling, she was a toddler and they all felt a protective urge to look after her and keep her safe.

They scoured around the shop, looking behind racks, peering through clothes on hangers to see if Rosie was weaving through the garments or trying to play hide and seek.

They circled around the teddies, looked through the empty fitting room and looped past the escalator and back towards the pushchair they had left behind. Which was precisely where Kathleen had turned up. The eldest was holding onto the handle while she looked around, clearly confused as to why it was stranded out at the side without any of her family nearby.

"What are you all doing?" Apprehension flooded her voice as she narrowed her eyes on her step-mum and siblings. What were they looking for? Who had lost their phone?

"We can't find Rosie. Go find someone who works here, I'm checking downstairs. You three come with me."

(Y/n) didn't believe for a second that Rosie would go down that escalator on her own, nor would she get into a lift without one of her siblings or her mum with her. But she wasn't up here, and (Y/n) couldn't do constant circles up here, praying her daughter would pop out of thin air.

She clenched Lizzie's hand tighter and tighter and headed towards the escalator while Kathleen paled and took the pushchair, scouting to find someone to help.

If Rosie had gone wandering, (Y/n) wasn't letting the rest of the kids out of her sights, no matter if they were teenagers or not. She wasn't risking losing any of them too.

She could feel Maureen hovering behind her, panting and gasping like she was running a marathon and it was a clear sign that she was either crying or about to start going into a panic attack. And Dickie rested one hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder as he almost tripped down the escalator to keep up with her and not be left behind. He didn't want to be far from (Y/n) when all of them were starting to panic.

"Rosie?"

(Y/n) could feel tears burning in her eyes when she saw Kathleen out the corner of her eye coming out of the lift. And when the eldest went to collar a security guard near the front of the shop, it only escalated (Y/n)'s panic.

Rosie wouldn't leave without them. She wouldn't walk out of here alone, but (Y/n) didn't know if her toddler would leave with anyone else. She wouldn't just leave them willingly, would she? All of her siblings were here with (Y/n) and Rosie didn't know anyone else. And anyone she did know wouldn't just take her from the shop.

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't think…" Fright flooded Maureen's voice and she stepped closer to (Y/n) despite her overwhelming anxiety. She hadn't meant to lose Rosie. She had barely taken her eyes off her sister for a minute, and Rosie always wandered back if she stepped away too far.

When (Y/n) noticed the tears falling down Maureen's face, she gulped harshly and tried to hold her nerve. "You didn't do anything, just- just none of you leave my side, okay?"

She instructed before they set off into a sprint, looking anywhere and everywhere they could.

By the time they looped back to the entrance after two rounds of scouting round the ground floor, (Y/n) could barely breathe.

They checked all the racks, all the shelves and units Rosie could hide in or behind. They stopped people to ask if they had seen a toddler matching Rosie's description, but no one had seen her. Some women trailed behind (Y/n), calling out Rosie's name and trying to help locate her, but it was becoming apparent that Rosie was no longer in this shop.

The checkouts had ceased operation, all staff encouraging people to stop and group together in the middle of the store so Rosie couldn't hide behind people if she was still here. Workers scattered through the shop to look for her and security weren't letting people in or out of the shop without being talked to and checked first.

"She isn't here." Shallow, rumbling breaths passed through (Y/n)'s lips and she let a few tears trace down her face.

Lizzie wouldn't let go of her hand and was cowering into her side with her head on (Y/n)'s shoulder. Dickie was stood behind her with his hand clenched around (Y/n)'s upper arm and his head constantly turning from left to right, but he could barely breathe from panic. Maureen was entering a silent panic attack, consumed by guilt and uncertainty.

And Kathleen was stood with the pram by the shop entrance, arms bound around her chest and her nails scratching into her arms.

This had never happened before. Sure, one of the Stabler siblings had run ahead of their parents from time to time, Kathleen had stayed out late and gone to parties when she shouldn't. But none of them had ever gotten lost, especially not at such a young age as Rosie was.

"Come and stand out here, away from the commotion. My colleagues aren't allowing anyone in or out, if she's still in here they'll find her soon." The security guard moved his hand to (Y/n)'s shoulder and kindly motioned for them to follow him. They couldn't stand in the doorway and talk when panic was growing inside the shop and the bustle was getting louder.

(Y/n) could feel her stomach churning and she knew in a few minutes, if her daughter wasn't back in her arms, she was going to be sick.

Her legs turned to jelly as she shuffled away from the shop and out into the centre of the mall. Her eyes scanned around rapidly but she couldn't keep in focus. All she wanted was to look for her daughter. She just wanted to see Rosie bounding her way, crying out for her or laughing incessantly.

(Y/n) couldn't make sense of the people passing by. Anyone with a pushchair, she tried to move closer to and check to make sure they hadn't strapped her daughter in them. She watched women walk past, holding tighter to their child's hands as if they could sense the looming panic.

"She's gone." It was the only thing that (Y/n) could process.

Her daughter wasn't here. She wasn't in the shop anymore. She wasn't anywhere in their sights. She had disappeared and no one had noticed. No one had stopped her or anyone around her. They let her walk right past them. Where had she gone?

"Can you show me a recent picture and describe what she was wearing? We'll get an announcement out and put security on every exit, just to be safe."

"Um…" (Y/n) lifted her hand to rub at her temple that was starting to pound and ache as her heartbeat became a furious drumbeat throughout her body. "She- she's wearing a purple dress and white leggings, a-and red shoes."

(Y/n) unlatched her hand from Lizzie so she could scout through her bag, trying to find a recent photo. She wasn't used to bringing photos out with her and she wasn't like Elliot, who carried pictures of all the kids in his wallet.

"I- I don't have a picture." Her hands started to shake as she started to rake her nails through her hair, scratching her scalp in the process.

"Shop's clear."

Those two words crackled through the security guard's radio pinned to his shoulder and it made (Y/n)'s blood go cold. She couldn't hear Kathleen's rage of 'where is she then' and a few expletives that flooded the air. She couldn't feel Lizzie whimpering into her arm or Maureen gripping her elbow tightly.

All (Y/n) could feel was the way her ribs were aching with each breath she took like they had splintered and were puncturing into her lungs. Each thud of her heartbeat had her chest aching and make her skin prickle with heat and droplets of cold sweat. She could feel her head pounding and pulsing, her knees going weak and her throat closing up as her stomach did summersaults.

She wasn't in the shop. She had gotten out into the shopping centre. She could be out of the centre already. She could be in somebody's car, walking down the street, getting into a taxi or on the bus. Rosie could be on her way out of their lives by now.

No one was helping fast enough.

(Y/n) felt like she was going numb as she shakily unlatched Lizzie from her arm and pointed towards Kathleen. The eldest was leaning against the wall with the pushchair beside her and her feet rapidly tapping against the floor. She was scrutinising everyone who came out of the shop or passed them by. And (Y/n) needed the girls to stand together so she could keep them all within her sights.

She had to call Elliot.

Rosie was missing, she wasn't here and the longer they waited, the more severe this situation was going to become. (Y/n) had to call him. He worked with special victims and right now, Rosie was a missing toddler, high priority and this made her a special victim. Not to mention the fact she was Elliot's daughter. She needed him and his team to help find Rosie.

With his trembling hands knotted in his hair, Dickie seemed to pace five feet in each direction, moving back and forth again and again before he finally stopped.

"I'll go look for her-"

"Stay here." (Y/n)'s brisk tone caught him off guard and his lower lip quivered as he shook his head.

"No, no we need to look for her!" She was his baby sister. Rosie was a toddler, she was the one they were always looking after and watching over and making sure she was alright and at this moment, she might not be okay. Dickie wanted to go looking for her.

If she wasn't in the shop then he wanted to search the whole shopping centre to find her. He wanted to run the length of this place and stop every parent and child and ask if anyone had seen a wandering child or someone dragging a crying toddler in any direction. He didn't want to sit around and wait for others to do something he could do. He wanted to help.

"You need to stay where I can see you. None of you are leaving my sights until we find her… I- I'm calling your dad."

Despite the wavering in her voice, her words were firm enough that Dickie simply stood there, motionless and out of breath now he had simmered down in his rage. He didn't nod, but he didn't dispute or try and move away either. He knew if he tried to find Rosie, his step-mum would panic about him too and she was already going into a state of despair. He didn't want to panic her any further, it was best if they all stood together. At least until their dad arrived.

(Y/n) didn't feel or see herself moving until her phone was in her hand and the dialling tone was suddenly ringing in her ear.

Her body cringed and pulled inwards when a tanoid announcement roared through the air like shockwaves rippling through the sky. Rosie's description. Her age, her height, her clothes and hair colour, all circulating through the speakers. Asking anyone to find her, approach her and take her to the nearest security or safety point.

"Hey baby, how's it going today? Are the kids behaving?"

"Elliot… oh God…" Her voice came out so quiet and meek that (Y/n) barely recognised it as her own. She could hear the wobble in her words and the way her voice cracked like it was glass heating up and fracturing into pieces.

She couldn't say it. She couldn't say what was wrong or what was running through her head. All she could do was lean forwards like she was going to be sick with one arm around her stomach and the other clenching her phone tight into her palm.

Tears began to trickle down her face, her vision blurred and her throat felt like it was swelling up as she gasped to try and remain in control and not fall into a broken state of panic. Not when she had the other kids here with her and she had to be somewhat coherent and responsible for their sakes.

"Baby what's going on? What's the matter?" Elliot didn't like the panic in his wife's voice, or the fact that she was crying.

She had never called him at work in a state like this. He barely ever got a call from (Y/n) saying something was wrong or something had happened. There had only been a select few times when Kathy had called him saying something was wrong with the kids or she needed him to come home. Elliot wasn't used to this kind of situation.

"Rosie's gone."

"Gone, (Y/n) what does that mean?"

What the Hell did that mean? Where had she gone? What were they doing- where even were they? How had she gone, was she hurt, run off, taken, fallen down somewhere, stuck in a taxi or on the bus or somewhere away from them? What did that mean?

(Y/n) rattled her hand through her hair but she had to wind her arm back around her stomach again. The pressure felt good, it felt calming and grounding to have that touch and try to prevent herself from being sick.

"We- we're all in the shopping centre… she was walking with the kids, b-but she's disappeared. Elliot we can't find her anywhere, security haven't seen her… I d- I don't know what to do."

She pulled the phone away from her ear so she could wipe her sleeve beneath her eyes and nose. She was suddenly glad that her back was turned to the kids, she didn't want them to see her cry but right now, in this situation that seemed inevitable.

"Fuck! No, oh no… we're coming down now okay? I'll bring Liv and Finn, and if you find her before I get there call me. You hear anything you call me. Try not to panic, sweetheart."

Elliot felt like the world was crashing down around him.

His little girl wouldn't just wander off without anyone. She didn't follow after people or run away or stray far from whoever she was out with. And she was only three, she wouldn't do this on purpose to cause a scene or create panic or because she thought this was a funny game to play.

His free hand slammed down on his desk so hard and fast that the picture frames toppled over like fallen buildings and passers by froze to the spot. He could see Olivia ending whatever phone call she was making and she rounded her desk so she could stand beside his desk, waiting patiently for him to give her some kind of sign or inclination as to what was wrong.

Once he hung up the phone, Elliot shoved his phone in his back pocket and scraped his seat back to stand up. He shrugged on his jacket and snatched his car keys, moving round his desk as he pointed across at Finn to gain his attention.

"We've got a case, we need to leave now."

"Elliot, what's happening?" Olivia's hand on his arm did nothing to stop the raging storm building up inside Elliot. He felt like a water fountain that was starting to spill over the sides. He felt like a volcano that was about to errupt.

His eyes darted around the squad room, noticing John trying to pay attention as well as keep up the conversation he was having with whoever he was talking to on the phone. And he could see Cragen stood in the doorway to his office, hands in pockets as he waited to hear what was happening.

"(Y/n)'s out with the kids… Rosie's gone missing." That was all that they needed to hear. That was all Elliot could say but it was enough for Cragen to nod at him, Olivia to get her jacket and for Finn to jump up.

Elliot couldn't do this alone. He needed the rest of the team with him because he was too close to his case and they all knew he wasn't going to back away. He was going to find his daughter whether they told him to step back or not. They might as well help him and try and do this by the book.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, imbedding his car keys into his palm that was starting to shred and ache.

He had to get down there and get in that shopping centre. Elliot needed to scout round every inch of that building. Every corner, every crevace, every hidden crook and cranny, he needed to look round them all. He needed to watch and search every person who tried to leave and every car needed to be stopped and checked.

If one of his daughters was missing, he had to find her.

#imagine #law and order imagine #law and order #law and order svu #elliot x reader #elliot stabler #elliot stabler imagine #olivia benson #law and order x reader #elliot stabler x reader

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dykekarkat · 5 months ago

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i wonder when wymack had to sit down and give neil the taxes talk or do u think he was just coasting along like yeah im already working with the yakuza still whats a little More tax fraud

*okay imagine a world where neil runs out of his blood money during his sophomore year for idk. whatever reasons you so wish*

neil: hey do u think i have time for a part time job before i get signed professionally. im out of cash

kevin: no you need to be putting all your energy into exy i cant believe-

nicky: that sounds like a great idea!

aaron: i think u mean terrible. can u imagine josten making your coffee? id be wondering if he poisoned it

nicky: nahhh with that face? everyone would be obsessed with the new cute barista

kevin: -you would even entertain such a thing exy is your LIFE. LITERALLY. you dont have time to play cafe when any second ichirou-

andrew: kevin.

kevin: ugh fine. whatever. go play barista for all i care im NOT helping you with taxes and im NOT explaining to ichirou why you're suddenly interested in a career in customer service.

aaron: what do u even know about taxes have u worked a single day in your life

neil: wait why would i pay taxes

everyone: ??????????

everyone: bcus you'd?? be on a payroll?? you have a legal identity now??

neil: oh what the fbi's gonna knock on my door for a little tax fraud? how r u even supposed to pay taxes? how would they even know i didnt do it. how would I even know.

nicky: oh god no one ever gave him the tax talk can someone get wymack

andrew already on the phone: wymack you have a very fun and entertaining evening ahead of you

#aftg #neil josten #andrew minyard #kevin day #aaron minyard #nicky hemmick #david wymack #neil's like yeah sure i can keep getting away with tax fraus ez peasy (on a first name basis w the fbi hq)#i thought about going the other route with neil just. not knowing about taxes at all. but decided on this instead

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internet-kid-kenna · 5 months ago

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Here are some of my aftg 2006 fashion HCs

- Allison definitely has a hot pink Juicy Couture velour track suit. Like 1000% she does. I literally picture her dressing like Paris Hilton when she's not in exy gear

- Andrew definitely wears Doc Martens. He has the most worn in pair of docs though like they’re the only shoes he wears (other than when he's on the court or at the gym) and he takes good care of the leather tho. He might have multiple pairs but he for sure wears combat boots.

- Neil has the most beat up af pair of vans that like the soles are nearly coming off of. Andrew buys him new shoes but Neil would always pick his trash shoes until Andrew gets so fed up he throws them away.

- Kevin for sure wears like Hollister or Abercrombie & Fitch, tbh he was probably a Hollister model at some point

- Andrew definitely has a black leather jacket, Aaron has a brown one.

- Nicky wears vests over t-shirts, i basically picture him dressing like the Jonas brothers.

- i also think Matt wears vests over t-shirts, like specifically when they go out to a club

- Aaron wears converse. He has them in a couple of colors but i think he'd probably wear like red ones more often than black

- Allison owns a bump-it and she loves it, she teases the shit out of her hair to get it perfect (i think the actual bump it came out in 2008 but i still wanted to include it bc it makes so much sense to me)

- Renee has a pixie cut, like Alice from twilight style (also I know the movies came out after 2006 but just using that iconic style for reference)

- as much as i want to picture Andrew with a middle part and longer hair, I think he keeps it pretty short and gels it, however Aaron for sure has the like Bieber side swept bang look going on.

- Dan wears like jeans and a zip up hoodie usually, her jeans definitely have the like embellished designs on the back pockets though

- Dan also wears capris and V-necks with tank tops underneath

- Seth wears like Ed Hardy T-shirts, I think Andrew owns at least one in black, but Seth is like chains and baggy jeans and Ed hardy t-shirts for sure

- Renee wears jeans under dresses, but she looks cute in it

- Renee also wears those like knee length skirts and cropped cardigans with cap sleeves.

- Wymack wears Polos w/ cargo shorts and flip flops

- Abby definitely always has a contrasting color tank top under a long sleeve v-neck and boot cut jeans

- Allison owns several mini skirts that are about as wide as a belt and in fact owns belts that are wider than some of her skirts

- when Dan goes clubbing she also wears mini skirts though, but like Allison will wear one to class if she feels like it

- Dan owns several pairs of gold hoops and is usually wearing them even if she's dressed fairly casually

- Matt has worn a tie with a tshirt before, he also has one of those like army green shirts with the lapels and too many pockets.

- Matt wears a sweater vest when he has to dress nicely though

- Neil owns the baggiest Jeans on the planet and probably keeps them up with a shoe lace instead of a belt, the hems of them are shredded bc he's short but any rips are patched up

- Andrew definitely wears black ripped skinny jeans all the time, but specifically the ones that have the like ribbed black fabric underneath the rips, the rips are purely aesthetic.

- Andrew wears silver jewelry if he wears any, but Aaron wears gold if he wears any

- any formal wear by the guys includes a skinny tie

Like fashion in 2006 is such a fun backdrop for these characters. I can't stop thinking about it

#aftg #all for the game #kevin day #andrew minyard #neil josten #danielle wilds #renee walker #matt boyd #seth gordon #aaron minyard #nicky hemmick #david wymack #abby winfield #2006 fashion trends

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avifaunaa · 5 months ago

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i tasted ash and knew [ it was you ] [ r.v. ] [ pt.1 ]

Authors Note: My first Rio fic! Make sure to check the content warnings before reading further in case the content inside does not suit your taste! Otherwise please enjoy!

Some quick fun facts that literally none of you asked for but I added a lot of plot to a darksmutfic:

• I’m a former history major so some of this is based off of knowledge of what I know about time periods I studied and found special interest in

• Johnnie Ray was a popular artist in the fifties so I slipped him in for story ambience

• Only by 1955 did Americans, in half of their homes, have television sets. Up until then it was considered a bit of luxury with limited channels and times you could watch. You’d get static otherwise. Most homes had radios as their everyday media consumption.

• John Daly and the News was an actual television show broadcasted between 1953 — 1960 and is now what we know today as ABC World News Tonight

• Reader hinting that she and Rio shouldn’t talk so openly against how things are handled after the war is me referencing how the Second Red Scare [ Mcarthyism ] began to take an effect on the United States and how people ran their lives. Some actors, for example, would get blacklisted for the rest of their lives if they were accused of communism / socialism and found guilty even with denied claims from said actor.

Masterlist

Pairing: Rio Vidal x Fem!reader

Summary: Rio Vidal broke the rules of her own nature only two times in her long existence — once when she allowed her and Agatha’s son to live long enough to love his mother and the second and last by finding you and taking a life for every year she allowed you to live. Centuries later this still held true . . . Only now Agatha was dead and she was angry. It was time you stop running from her.

Content Warnings: Dark — be warned in advance and take care of yourselves! This has flashbacks that occurs between 1943-1953 but details about World War II itself are very vague. Some mild period-typical gender norms in terms of roles and clothing during flashbacks. Mentions of abuse / abusive marriages, angst, death, manipulation, threats of violence, stalking, choking, misuse of magic ( Rio ), housewife R ( and encouraged by Rio 😭 ), kidnapping, somnophilia, non-con, cunnilngus ( r!receiving ), face grinding ( Rio!receiving )

Word Count: TBA

Rio rarely found it in her to feel anything other than passive nonchalance when she came for them. A hand held out expectantly, a knowing expression that made no room for desperate pleas, and she took another soul away from this plane she stalked for her souls.

Children were the worst to come for and made that choice even more difficult for Rio. Death did not care who it struck or why — she was only able to ensure the balance of the universe stayed intact by orders greater than her.

She loved Agatha and Nicholas though . . . Enough that she stayed away from her lover for the amount of time she had promised their son could adventure the Earth as short as it may be.

She loved Agatha enough to take him while she slept with him curled tight in her arms where he was the absolute safest he could be. Nicholas was all Agatha with his curly hair and serious eyes, but Rio liked to believe there was part of her in him as she took his hand and took him to her home.

Agatha evaded her incredibly well after Nicky’s death, doing her best to leave no traces and not stay in one place for too long.

Rio decided that Agatha wouldn’t be able to forgive her — if not forever then at least for now. So she stopped trying and allowed Agatha to grieve and slowly move on in her own impossible way.

Rio met you in 1945 during a high stress time for the world. It was wonderfully busy in that she was everywhere more than usual. A war just ended and wars made Rio’s life both miserable and fulfilled with the amount of workload she took on.

You were an unfortunate case and barely hanging onto your single thread of life. She could see it glowing from your chest, flickering in and out . . . As if it would be snuffed at any second should the wind blow right.

Her instincts told her it was your time but everything about the surroundings were telling her that nobody else agreed.

But why? She’s seen it millions of times in different cultures and centuries. A life had a time limit and she knew when that time ended even if they didn’t — or didn’t agree with it.

Rio’s entire instinct told her to take this soul and move onto the next so she could keep the balance moving and not disrupt the will of the universe that held them all together.

But she didn’t. She waited unseen in a corner and watched you as nurses came in to check on you, refilling your untouched water pitcher and cleaning you up. You still barely hung on, her eyes keeping locked onto the thrumming flow of life that beckoned her.

She finally stepped forward to get a closer look at you, tilting her chin down through her hood and taking note of every small detail that put you in her ledger for collection.

You were a battered woman more than anything, and she let her fingers drift over you to get a feel of your energy.

Her hand ripped back to her side at what she felt within you. You remained nearly lifeless and unconscious in the bed but your soul was very, very angry. It was a black pool of oily rage and despair that Rio was usually able to cleanse once she took them but . . .

She took your lifeline in her palm, feeling the warmth seep into her cold skin as it stuttered more as she grasped it.

She pressed a thumb into it as though it were something physical and willed a demand — live. I shall not take you today.

For a moment she wasn’t sure how her magic would treat your soul once they interacted. But more stuttering was soon filtered out like a street lamp, giving way to a soft and steady glow.

Rio smiled and released your lifeline, allowing it to lazily float back toward you where it retook its place reaching for her out of your chest.

Rio might be Death and she may hesitate to break rules on most days — but you were the exception she was going to see through and hope she didn’t regret later.

1943-1952

Rio left you soon after. She had to take a soul in your place and had others that needed her attention besides.

But she frequently returned to you with a pull she could not ignore. Your recovery was slow and painful, and she watched invisibly as you cried to your mother and father about your husband — the man you claimed was the one who caused your near death.

It filled her with something raw and visceral when she followed you back home to him. A drunk man who had no boundaries and no respect for the life he was given — nor yours.

She decided to wait a couple of years for the world to cool down from the anguish that it was trying to recover from. But she watched as you suffered with him and tried to keep your distance in order to avoid pain.

In 1952 Rio decides to play dress up. She comes to your beautifully decorated home and sickeningly pretty flowered garden in an outfit that women are scolded for daring to try on.

Slacks and a blouse with her hair styled for the time even if it wasn’t in her taste. She was going to play a partial role — but she had a plan and will see it through.

Rio knocked on your door so that there would be no question of a visitor, hands sliding into her pockets not long after as she waited.

She was not kept long.

The door opened and there you were pretty and smiling — even if Rio knew what the depths of your soul actually contained.

“Oh,” you said by greeting, hand going to your chest. “Hello there. Hi.”

“Hello,” Rio greeted back politely. “I moved in a few houses down and have gone about introducing myself to the neighbors. I want to build a community around me.”

You pursed your lips in surprise. “I didn’t know we had a house for sale,” you mused aloud, but waved your hand, “Oh, but who cares? Welcome to Westview.”

“My name is Rio, Rio Vidal,” Death greeted, sliding a hand out for you to take. If you were caught off guard by the invitation, you did not show it. You grasped her hand and shook it and relayed your name back even though she knew it well.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” you said, still smiling. You gestured and stepped aside in your entry way, showing Rio the bright yellow walls and decorated room behind you, “Would you like to come in? I’ve been trying a hand at making a cake and I’m unfortunately not doing so good.”

Rio took the invitation and entered your home, laughing breathily at your statement. “A woman who can’t bake? Not a sight I see often.”

You shut the door behind you both and grew shy under the observation. “I was never great at it,” you admit as you started through the entry way and leading her through the living room. It was quiet.

“No husband?” she questioned aloud, noting the empty recliner diagonal to the newest television set that money could buy. Expensive taste for even a well earning home.

“One,” you called back when you reappeared from the entrance to the kitchen. “He works all day at the plant in Eastview. He just got promoted.”

“Eastview,” Rio murmured. “Isn’t that a bit of a drive?”

You smiled weakly. “Sure, but it’s good income. He works hard and keeps us fed. Come, I’ll prepare lemonade.”

Rio allowed herself to be guided into the kitchen that smelled like a bakery. Black and white checkered floors, green cabinets and brand new red chairs and a table set. If not good at baking you at least had good style.

You were pulling out a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and she wandered close to you. “It smells good.”

You glanced up at her from your pouring, “You came right as I was putting my third attempt in the oven. Hopefully it doesn’t burn this time. I admittedly bought store-made icing.”

Rio grinned, “My lips are sealed.”

You chuckled as you pushed her a glass of lemonade and took your own in two hands, clutching it close. “So . . . You have no husband of your own?”

Rio leaned against the mint-colored counter and twirled her glass. “Afraid not. Lost him to the war in ‘43.”

You frowned as an expression of sympathy started to cross your features, “Two years before that deadly disaster ended, too. I’m truly sorry he didn’t make it home.”

Trap set and bait laying with prey lured, Rio continued with a faux tremble in her hands, “They don’t tell you what to prepare for if they don’t come home. Don’t give you much in return for the price they pay for the country. How fair is that?”

Your lips thinned slightly. “No, I’d rather say the bets we place are never worth it.” A pause, full of hesitance. “But we shouldn’t talk so queerly about such things.”

Rio curled her fingers inward toward herself despite her grip on her glass. She was probing for information mostly — where she could poke holes and find weakness. The end of the war left a fear of things they didn’t understand . . . And politics became a large aspect of society as soon as the world began picking itself back up.

Rio reveled in the chaos and enjoyed — with no shame to be found — watching humans try and control their societies in endless cycles of vitriol and greed masked by different ideologies they claimed were better than the last.

It kept her in a job.

“Of course,” she finally said with a hint of emotion. “My apologies. I’m afraid my heart has been hardened by experience.”

You softened slightly, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Of course. I can’t imagine the suffering you’ve endured — I just — I’m sure the country is thankful.”

Rio bit down a response that would get a rise out of you. She wanted to see that anger she felt in your soul when she initially came for you that day.

She couldn’t feel it just from standing here and pretending to be a sad widower of a war. It was difficult to get a feel on you in general right now — unless she pushed her magic and coerced them out of you.

A brief quiet fell over the two that mostly consisted of sipping lemonades and listening to Johnnie Raye’s alluring voice sing through the radio that was situated near the entryway of the kitchen on the counter.

“So,” Rio drew out and set down her glass. Hardly touched — just enough to make you believe she dare partake in such things, “Little ones?”

You smiled again but a sad gleam overtook the look this time. “No, no children.”

You didn’t go into detail and Rio decided that this topic was one she could let go until later either by finding out through her own means or getting to know you in this fashion.

“Well it looks like we could both use a friend at least,” the brunette said as her gaze turned to stare out the window for a brief moment. “The world can be entirely too lonely for women these days and I’m inclined to find ways to fight it.”

You perked up slightly at her veiled offer and bit your lip. “I’d love to be your friend.”

2024

Your neck was aching in a way that it hasn’t for a very long time. A subtle throb just below your hairline that felt deep inside of your muscles.

You told yourself it was just an ache — the magic she had worked on you was disintegrated and nothing more than a reminder of a past long dead.

But the ache did not relent when you woke up the next morning, or the next after that.

You began to wonder if the witch you paid to remove all the magic in your body was a fraud a week after the ache started.

You simply ignored it and went about your daily life even as it throbbed dully beneath your skin like a timer set to go off at any given point.

It started giving you headaches and then the nausea set in after that.

Pointedly, you continued to do absolutely nothing for it. Anxiety was shoved into a small lockbox and the key was dropped into the dark depths of your brain to be forgotten as you sealed the blinds for the night and went about prepping dinner.

Onions splayed out on a cutting board next to other ingredients ready to be prepped. A dinner for one but a pleasant distraction to keep your hands busy. You propped your phone up against the wall to listen to a podcast while you began peeling the onions.

Flowers for your parents graves and a visit to your nieces’ retirement home, you reminded yourself through the busy chatter of the podcast and stripping of the outer layer of the onion.

A shattered vase?

You stopped peeling and stopped breathing. You listened, drowning out the sound of your phone and focusing on background noise that may come next.

You quietly set down the onion and curl your fingers around the hilt of the knife you had set aside. You tucked it close to your side as you stepped silently to the entry way of your kitchen to look out into your living room.

Indeed your vase was shattered off of the display case where it had previously been sitting. An antique but not one you were invested in, really. The carpet was wet from the water that kept the flowers fed and the flowers themselves were scattered in the shards.

As you approached the mess and kneeled down to set about starting to clean it up, you tossed the knife to the side for now and got the shards out of the way first.

You ignored the alarms in your head. The warning signs that were so large and so close that they were nearly impossible to ignore.

You released a shaky breath and threw away the shards in the kitchen. You gathered yourself momentarily and repeated your mantra, “She isn’t coming back, you’ve gotten away,” enough to almost believe it.

You return to the living room to take care of the ruined flowers and clean up any leftover petals and leaves.

Even when you gathered the crumbled flowers and found a perfectly intact green rose aligned in the middle of them.

The thorn cut your thumb open and left a wound that bleed for two days.

Five more days continued on after that slower than the thick molasses that your grandmother used to make when you would visit her home as a child.

You visit your parents in Westview once you’re sure activity of magic has disappeared. You knew the Scarlet Witch had contained the once lovely and beautiful town and used it to create something for herself she was believed she had the right to.

It’s been months — hell a year even. The news claimed that Maximoff had disappeared without a trace and left no one worse for wear after defeating an unknown threat.

The graveyard was not maintained in the hostage situation. Overgrown and some older stones beginning to degrade from age and lack of care, dead and wilted flowers not cleared or replaced with new ones by thoughtful visitors.

You trudged through it all and for once you could not ignore the agony in your neck. It was allowing the pain of the physical or the pain of your heart — and you didn’t think you had it in you to feel anything but the inclosed walls you built for yourself.

You kneel onto your knees once you reach the matching headstones. Moss was starting to grow on the edges and inside the grooves — but you let it stay. You started pulling out the decayed flowers from the in-ground flower holder, tossing them aside and dusting off the area.

“Still so attached to the past,” a husky voice mused in no one direction. Your head jerked up and you began to look around, palm resting on your father’s headstone for support. A cheerless — but darkly amused — laugh. “You tend to it like a garden or a herd of sheep. Maintaining its needs and working on it like it’s keeping you afloat.”

You used your free hand to rub your forehead. You couldn’t see anything — the voice was clear as day and that is what had you spinning.

“Angel with stone wings, angel with no reach,” the sultry lilt continued. Your eyes locked onto the damp statue of an angel feet away, eyes echoing endless depths of nothingness.

You forced your eyes back to the graves. Your hands were shaking as you continued to clear them, hands aggressively tugging the weeds from around the stone.

“Oh sure, ignore me. That’s worked out for you just as much as burning your leash off has.”

“This is a figment,” you responded out loud.

Large, aged oak trees swayed angrily around you in turn and howling winds scraped against your skin. You needed to make sure of it — ground yourself before you lost yourself in the delusion.

Your knuckles slammed into hard stone, pressing until they turned white and stung from the impact. Your breathing was heavy and your ribcage felt like it was being grabbed from the top of your spine and pulled backwards.

“You really thought that your little magic trick could defy the sigil of Death, angel?” You could imagine her face. Mocking, smirking with full teeth and eyes gleaming with predatory intent.

She wasn’t here.

And then it felt like you had a rope thrown around your throat so tight that you could feel your heartbeat in your ears. The force of it sent you sailing onto your back, feet kicking, gasps sounding out into empty air.

Your hands flail upward in animalistic instinct, clawing at your neck.

Nothing was there. Nothing was there. You opened your mouth more, to breath, to scream, to —

The pressure left as quickly as it was there. You turned over and dug your fingernails into the damp ground, getting into your knees and breathing in as much air as your lungs would allow.

A billow of green and black took up your line of sight as your vision began to clear. It decreased its length toward you with lazy speed and only stopped when you were inches from the fabric.

The figure crouched and a cold hand took your jaw to tilt your head up. Your stomach became a pit of liquid when you saw exactly who it was above you — and she was no figment.

“Hello, angel. Thank you for walking into my trap. I didn’t want to have to hunt you down.”

1953

You slam on Rio’s front door despite the crudeness of it. It was cold and your tears were freezing over on your cheeks. You were numb and you needed . . . Comfort. Something. Anything.

The door opened almost immediately to your best friend. She had a lazy smile that quickly fell once she saw you.

“Angel,” she offered a soft crow, “what happened? It’s dark out and you should be at home right now."

Your throat bobbed and you manage to cup your mouth before a loud, ugly sob can escape and wake the entire neighborhood. "Oh, God, Rio."

Now her eyes flickered with alarm. Dark swirls of it as she stepped forward and immedately wrapped two arms around your shoulders and tucked you close. "Let’s get you inside. Come on.”

Her voice soothed you as she guided you into her home and you remained unaware of the malice that crossed her features as she glanced outside at the street for any sign of threat before closing the door.

She sat you on her couch in front of her television. She was watching John Daly discussing the news on the black and white set with his stoic professionalism.

“Do you want a glass of water? Ginger ale?” Rio questioned and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You glanced upward at her. Your fingers twisted into your dress and you crossed your ankles, pressing them into the couch as you sat up straight and stiff.

“Yes please, if it’s no trouble,” you murmured.

“I wouldn’t have offered if it was.” You ignored the odd quip, having gotten used to Rio’s strange ways by now. Most of your neighbors wives’ — when you met for the monthly update while husbands drank and played cars — found her to be much to odd for comfort.

You didn’t mind. She wasn’t nosy like the other women were and didn’t have the tendency to berate you about how you iced your cookies or strung your laundry on the line when laundry day came. She took little interest in petty gossip and didn’t prod for details about why no children came to fruition within your marriage.

Perhaps that is what drew you to the long-haired widow while the others felt repelled by her.

Your brain was lost in this forest of thick fog and thoughtless wander so deep that you jumped when a cold glass was brushed against the back of your clenched hands.

Rio said nothing about it; she simply waited until she was satisfied that your water was safely in hand before sitting down in the chair next to the television. She reached over and twisted the dial until it flickered off.

“What happened?” she asked plainly, picking something off of her finely fitted pants. Waisted pants today that ended at her ankles, fitting her loosely. Some days she wore styles that mothers would roll in their graves over — a man’s wear.

Today she decided on a more fashionable approach in women’s attire, it seemed. The pants were dark blue in color with a cream long sleeved shirt tucked in.

You tried to focus on her question, but answering it meant you had to tell her in the first place. In doing that — in doing that you would be left in a situation where you could break down completely.

“Hey.”

She was next to you as if by magic. Her hand rested on your knee lightly. Her hand was cold. Anytime you were together she always seemed to be cold . . .

Your mind started melting into itself again but a finger directed your chin to meet Rio’s intense gaze. It was a gentle gesture, but also a command. One of her eyebrows was raised questioningly.

“Angel,” she says, a low noise in her throat, “I can’t help if you won’t tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

Your fingers curled as tight as the glass would allow, as tight as your grip could be. “My husband,” you started, a stuttering whisper fading after it. You couldn’t bear to finish.

Her features remained unchanged, but her head tilted. She let her finger brush away from your chin as she moved that hand over yours on the glass.

“What about him?” she asked.

“He’s — the factory owner called, you see. Told me I had to get to the hospital as quickly as I could.”

It was a terrible, bloody mess. They didn’t let you back into the room to see him because of the severity and instead had her wait until the doctor could come and speak with her privately.

You weren’t in tears at all — the nurses had commented. You were being very brave. You must be so scared.

You could only nod at them, smile shakily maybe.

You did cry when they asked you to sit down to tell you that he did not survive their attempt at surgery. It was a machine incident, they said. It broke down during use and your husband was the one on the line during the process.

You sobbed like a stricken wife, now widowed and left by herself. The nurses came to comfort you, offer tissues and take you somewhere quiet.

You weren’t devastated.

You were so relieved.

You felt like you would go home that night and not have to worry about if doing the dishes would be what set him off.

You could make a meal and not sit in a silence that you feared ended in another bruise to cover up for a few weeks.

Your husband was never good at cleaning up his messes. That’s what you were there for. That’s what his lack of complaints at the extra makeup in your grocery bags meant.

“He’s dead,” you choked out loud for the first time. “He had an accident . . . And . . .”

“Hm, I see.” Rio did something else and tucked you close into her side. She started stroking your hair and you took on the comfort even if you weren’t used to it. “It saddens me to see you so upset.”

Over him, she didn’t add. She didn’t need to with her tone.

“It’s just . . . Oh, you may find me very crass if I tell you what’s been heavy on my heart.”

Rio grasped your chin firmly and quickly, forcing you to meet her eyes. Her lips were thinned and she said with a steady, stern tone, “I could never think you crass. We are both outcasts in our own way in this world we’ve been born into. Whatever you tell me will change what I think of you — would you like me to swear it?” She paused. “On your God?”

You pulled back briefly, but her hand went with your tug. She had a tight grasp on your chin and wasn’t letting go, determined to keep your attention.

“My God?” you echoed, visible confusion coating your features.

She didn’t give you a response. Perhaps she felt as though she had been clear enough even if you felt entirely puzzled.

She tapped your cheek with her index finger. “Admit to me your heart’s truths, angel.”

The sick feeling in your stomach — the way you liked how she spoke to you, touched you . . .

Her touch suddenly felt like the hottest flames and you snapped out of the foggy daze. You were too close, she was too near. Everything about this broke the law of nature.

“I’m glad he’s dead.” Your mouth snapped shut and she allowed you to jerk away from her grasp to the other end of the couch. You hadn’t . . .

Why did you say that.

Rio’s lips were painted black today. An unusual color to decide on and very much not within the fashion of today. Your catalogues and magazines always pointed at which colors to lean into and which to avoid. Black lipstick was hard to find and it was often discouraged; it was seen as unappealing and unapproachable.

Rio wore it like she owned it and you hated that you seemed to tingle and grow hot in ways your husband was unable to do.

She tapped her chin with her nails, lips quirking into a small smirk. “Oh, my my. A wife who grieves not for the loss of her dear husband — her protector in life and guardian . . . But perhaps the comfortable lifestyle he provides?”

Your lips trembled. “How dare you,” you whispered, flushing from the neck up from the shame. She was right. She was right and you hated it. “That’s so mean to . . .”

“Stop with the act, angel.” Rio leaned back into the cushions, one leg crossing over the other. “Own how you feel for once. Take that relief and dig deep — see what else you’ll feel.”

The water glass had grown slippery in your palms. Either from how sweaty you got or from the melting ice. You were glad for the cold it provided, to keep you from floating away.

You sipped at it in quiet and refused to talk to her. Childish, perhaps. But what you couldn’t do right now was face what she was shoving in front of you: that you feared for your comforts as creaturely as they may be. You were raised to be a housewife and your parents didn’t know how to encourage much else.

You weren’t an educated woman — and didn’t have the money to become one.

“You’re depressing me,” Rio stated, slapping her hands on her knees. You jumped. Her head tilted low and she regarded you with something that should have sent you running, “I’ll keep you safe and pampered, angel. Sell your home, move into mine. I have three extra rooms. I could use a woman’s touch.”

“You’re a woman.”

A feline grin was your first reply. Then, “A working one.”

You supposed you could have realized that in the time she’s been around. No husband, widowed — how else would she have managed on her own without?

“It would . . . Isn’t it rather odd to have two women together? Especially one as a housewife?”

“We’re widowed, angel,” Rio reminded her as she removed the empty glass from your hand and set it on the coffee table. “Gossip will see a sad woman who need comfort from another woman who knows what it feels like. You will be truly devastated, simply unable to recover normally.”

You licked your lips and glanced around. It was darker in certain corners and the living room lacked color. “. . . Everything has a fine coat of dust,” you mumbled.

Rio laughed, standing and pulling you with her. She leaned forward and for a moment you held your breath, scared . . . Perhaps maybe filled with anticipation, as she did. Soft lips brushed your cheek.

“It’s a very good thing I just found myself a housewife to fix that.”

2024

The ache was gone — you could come to understand that as feeble awareness started to come to you in bloated masses.

Your body felt heavy and as though it had been pressed through your mother’s clothes wringer. Should you open your eyes? Would that even matter right now if all you could do was lay there and try not to vomit?

A sudden wave of pleasure that seemed to hurt coursed through you, and you let out a garbled moan as your body lifted and your hand frantically reached down to find the cause.

A soft, breathy chuckle greeted you against your wet pussy as your hand messily gripped hair and pushed the figure against you instead of pulling away.

“Mph.” Rio. It was Rio — she was — you ground your face down as her tongue delved deeper rather than pulling out of you to speak to you. You kept your eyes screwed shut — not wanting to see her but chasing that high she was making you seek out.

Her sharp nails gripped your bare ass and squeezed, nose rubbing purposefully into your clit as she used your body like an old instrument she pulled out of the closet.

It had been so fucking long and yet she knew you so goddamn well. Like it hasn’t been damn near seventy years and she hasn’t collared you with her magic and trapped you again.

With more force and anger driving you, you rode her face harder, knowing Death needn’t breath and how too entirely much she enjoyed the goddamn desperation she could soak up from you.

It flipped like a switch. One moment you’re angry and chasing something that you don’t want and the next you’re clawing at the brink of your orgasm like it was being veered over the edge of a cliff for years.

You cursed and kicked, but Rio saw the entire thing through. Only when your shivers eased and grip loosened did she come up for uneeded air, smug and eyes twinkling.

“Welcome home, angel.”

“I’m going to kill you,” you breathed, shoving her away with a shaky foot and sitting up on your thighs.

Then she was behind you, leaning over your shoulder with a weighted hand on the back of your neck. “I am going to enjoy seeing you try.”

Rio and reader will return in Part Two

PART TWO

#rio vidal #rio vidal x reader #agatha all along #dark fic

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