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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

Note

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N.

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day. You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror. He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock. You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry.

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie. You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted. You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone. Your phone is still on silent from the theater.

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you.

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie."

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight. "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively.

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . . Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion.

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply.

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue.

“How was your date?"

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.”

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze.

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.”

You scoff.

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.” His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special. “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”

You look out your window, which faces the woods. "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains. You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you.

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?”

Are you that predictable?

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly. His breathing becomes audible. “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . . . .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on.

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.”

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You lie there clenching your thighs together.

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together. “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on.

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast.

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock.

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.”

He’s right about that. You close your eyes as you touch yourself. You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.”

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.”

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core.

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?”

You turn up the intensity of your vibe.

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl. Swallowed it right up.”

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops.

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close. “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting. You need a shower.

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears. There’s nothing you can do. You squat down, hugging your knees. There’s no good option.

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby." The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment. Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked. He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see.

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you. One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife. He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.”

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower. He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak.

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle. “Coulda had it how ya wanted.”

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen.

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.” He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down. “You’ve put me behind you after all.” He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick. He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds.

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh. You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it.

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now. He pants as he thrusts into you harder. “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel.

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly. “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.”

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.” He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you. You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own. Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load. He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core. You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants.

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on. He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim.

“I don’t believe you.”

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.”

“The cops have it.”

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe. You look behind him toward the toilet.

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

--------------------------

Please engage (reblog/comment) if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

#ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #mickey altieri x reader #billy loomis x reader #ethan landry x reader #ghostface x you #slasher fanfiction #danny johnson x reader #cw noncon #slasher smut #tw noncon #ghostface #slasher fucker #toxicanonymity ☠️#mickey altieri #ghostface ☠️#every inch ☠️#dark fic

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cjlouwho · 3 months ago

Text

He wished he could say he knew it was a bad idea before it happened, but he didn't.

It wasn't until the saw blade had sliced straight down his leg and the blood started seeping onto his pants and pooling on the garage floor that he realized hey, maybe I should have been a little more careful.

Still, without allowing himself to panic, he made himself a tourniquet before getting into his truck and heading toward the hospital.

“I was going through your files, Thomas,” Tommy's nurse, Angela, said as she walked into his room, “and you have a blank space where your emergency contact should be. Why's that?”

“Well good morning to you too, Angela,” Tommy replied, plastering on a grin. “Lovely to see you, as always.”

She cocked her head to the side, resting a hand on her hip. “Mhm. You need an emergency contact, Thomas.”

“Nobody calls me Thomas, Angela.”

“And nobody calls me Angela, Thomas.”

Tommy pushed himself up in the bed, wincing slightly at the pain that radiated down his leg. “What do they call you then? Angie? Ang? Ella?”

“This is serious, Mr. Kinard.”

“Angel?”

Angela sighed. “With your career, it's very important to have an emergency contact on file.” She moved closer to him, maneuvering the tray table over his lap and setting some paperwork down with a pen. “Get to writing.”

“Okay, okay,” he relented, picking up the pen. She waited as his hand hovered over the form. After a few seconds, he blinked up at her. “What's your number?”

“I find it very hard to believe that a pretty boy like you doesn't have at least one name and number he can drag from his phone to that piece of paper right there.”

“Is that a no on your number?”

“As long as no infection gets in that leg, you'll be out of here tomorrow,” she said, ignoring his question. “You have to have a ride or we can't release you.”

“Oh, come on,” Tommy whined, “I drove myself here!”

“Which was stupid!” She replied. “A gash that big, nearly to the bone. You're lucky you didn't bleed out on your way in.”

“My tourniquet skills are unmatched.”

“Well your common sense skills could use some work.” She took a look at her watch, let out another sigh. “I'll leave the paperwork with you. I'll be back in two hours to change your dressing and give you some meds.” She tapped on the paper, “I want a name and a number when I get back.”

Tommy grinned up at her, “Yes, Ma'am.”

He kept the smile on his face until she was out of the room, then he dropped the act. He tossed the pen down and pushed the tray away from him, pressing the button on the side of his bed so he'd be lying down.

Carefully, as to not disturb his leg, he turned onto his side and closed his eyes, letting sleep take over.

*****

When Tommy woke up nearly an hour later, it was due to loud noises across the hall.

Laughter.

A lot of it.

There was some shushing, and things quieted down for a minute, then it started back up again. It almost sounded like they were having a party over there.

When another round of laughter started, Tommy decided to get up and take a look at what was causing all the commotion.

Moving around too much wasn't recommended after the surgery and stitches he had to have for the gash on his leg, but he was tired of doing nothing and the door wasn't that far away.

Cautiously, he sat up and swung his legs around until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He pushed himself up, groaning slightly at the pain.

He clenched his teeth together and took a step, barely tiptoeing with his left foot to keep as much pressure on the right as he could.

He managed to make it to the door in five steps, leaning against the frame as he stared at the room across the hall.

The door was halfway open, filled with more people than Tommy thought was allowed in a room. He could see flowers on a corner table, and balloons nearby with GET WELL SOON written on them.

A man peeked around the corner, his smile turning into a grimace. “Sorry!” he exclaimed. “We're trying to keep it down over here.”

“Oh, you're fine,” Tommy assured him, motioning to his leg. “Needed to move around a bit.”

“Our boy over here just had surgery on his leg too,” the man said. “Trying to cheer him up since he'll be out of office for a couple months.”

Tommy forced a smile. “That's nice. Please, don't mind me. I'm not gonna be making it much further than here, just needed to get out of bed.”

“Alright. Feel better, Man.”

Tommy nodded. “Thanks.”

As the man disappeared back behind the door, Tommy turned back to his room. It'd been three days since his surgery, but there wasn't a balloon in sight. No flowers, no stuffed animals, no people. Nothing.

It was fine though. It wasn't like he needed those things. His captain had texted him that all his shifts had been covered, not to worry. A couple of coworkers had sent him teasing messages about hurting himself off the clock.

That was enough.

As he got back to the bed and laid down, he grabbed his phone off of the tray table. He was forever thankful to Angela for going downstairs to the gift shop on his first day in recovery to get him a charger.

He opened up the Uber app and clicked through all the steps to schedule a ride home tomorrow. He'd come back sometime soon to pick up his truck.

Once that was settled, he looked at the time. Angela would be back soon, and expecting a name and number on that piece of paper.

With a very dramatic eye roll, he grabbed the pen and quickly wrote down a name and a number.

*****

Twenty minutes after changing his dressing and getting his paperwork, Angela walked back into the room with a glare on her face. “You can't have Uber's corporate number as your emergency contact, Tommy.”

He gave her his award winning smile. “Hey, you called me Tommy!”

“I'm being serious with you. Who is Gary P.? Did you make him up?”

“Absolutely not,” Tommy gasped, feigning offense. “Gary P. is the lovely man who will be taking me home tomorrow. For the low, low price of $42.35. That's before tip, of course.”

“So you put your Uber driver down and added the corporate number?”

“You're in the wrong field, Angela,” Tommy said, wiggling his finger toward her. “You should be a detective.”

Tommy hadn't asked, but he was pretty sure by the face Angela was giving him that she was a mother. “What is this?” she asked. “Too macho to let anyone know you're hurt?”

“I've actually worked very hard to rid myself of toxic masculinity, thank you very much.”

“Tommy-”

“You've been a nurse a long time, Angela,” Tommy interrupted, beginning to feel a little irritated by her refusal to let it go. “I'm sure I'm not your first patient without an emergency contact.”

“You're not,” she agreed. “But with your job, you could have your captain or a coworker-”

“If I get hurt on the job, my captain and coworkers will already know. I'm not going to have them running down to the hospital because I didn't properly secure a saw. I texted my captain that I'd be out of commission for a while, he texted back. It's all good.”

“A parent?”

“No mom.”

“Your dad then?”

He let out a humorless laugh. “Angela, please, don't joke like that.”

“If something serious were to happen to you, you need someone on the form.”

Tommy rested his head against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. “If something serious were to happen to me, let it happen,” he said. “We're all gonna die anyway, don't need anyone to watch.”

He could feel her watching him. Could sense the pity. He closed his eyes, hoping she got the hint.

After a few seconds, he heard her shuffling around, and when he opened his eyes again, she was gone.

*****

Gary P. wasn't exactly the kindest man Tommy had ever met. He seemed frustrated that he had to pick Tommy up in the first place, as if he hadn't accepted the ride. He was impatient, huffy, took two wrong turns, and practically shooed Tommy out of the car the second they arrived at his house.

“You know, Gary,” Tommy said as he pushed the car door open and took a wobbly step onto his driveway, “I'm beginning to regret putting you as my emergency contact.”

Before Gary could even register what Tommy had said, he slammed the door and turned toward his house.

As soon as he got inside, he headed for the couch. He tossed down his keys, phone, and the bag of pain meds from the hospital pharmacy before sitting down himself. He propped his leg up on the coffee table and leaned his head back, closing his eyes and falling asleep.

When he woke back up it was due to a throbbing in his leg. He couldn't help the moan that escaped him as he tried to pull himself back up from the slumped position he'd sunk into.

He reached over for his meds and grabbed the bottle out of the bag, popping off the lid and shaking out one of the pills into his palm.

He needed water. He'd never been able to swallow pills without a drink of some kind. But water was all the way in the kitchen and the kitchen felt very far away right now. Especially when he could feel his heart beating in his leg.

Still, he knew the pain would only get worse if he didn't get up. So, he stood and his groans turned into whimpers with each step he took.

He ignored the pain as best as he could, stopping when he reached the fridge to lean against it with his hands gripping the door handle.

After letting himself take a few deep breaths, he opened the fridge and grabbed a water. He opened the bottle quickly and swallowed the pill, feeling a slight vindication at the fact that he'd done it and he could go back and rest again.

And that's when it hit him. Standing in the middle of his kitchen, staring back toward the living room, it hit him all at once.

He'd need to fix himself something to eat soon, or order something at least. Either way, he'd be walking to the kitchen or the front door. He needed to go to the bathroom. Needed a shower. Needed to rewrap his leg. He desperately wanted to sleep in his bed but wasn't sure if he could get back up after he laid down. Then he remembered he was in the middle of washing his sheets when he hurt himself so they were still in the washer, probably soured, which meant he needed to get his spare set of sheets out of the linen closet and make his bed.

He'd have to get another Uber in a day or two to go pick up his truck. God, what if he got Gary again? He needed to let his captain know when he'd be back at work. Needed to remember to get a release form when he went back to the doctor for a checkup. He needed to go grocery shopping. He needed to make sure all his bills were paid for the month. He needed... he needed help.

He needed someone.

He was so damn tired.

His eyes burned as he rested his elbows on his countertop, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes.

He was fine.

It was fine.

He didn't need anybody.

The couch would be fine for tonight.

He'd figure everything else out on his own.

He'd always figured everything out on his own.

This was no different. He just needed the pain to stop and to get some rest and he'd be fine.

With a deep breath, he straightened up. He ignored his blurry, wet eyes as he took each pain-filled step back to the couch. And if a few tears fell down his face on the way, well, at least no one would ever know.

*****

It took three and a half weeks before his leg was healed enough for him to return to work.

There was no big fanfare on his first day back, which he was thankful for.

A couple of people gave him a high five and asked him how gnarly the scar was. One guy told him he was forced to take three of his shifts, so Tommy owed him. His captain kept him on light duty and told him to make sure he let him know if he felt any pain.

Other than that, it was a regular day.

Another week passed until he could go back up in the chopper. He was thankful to be back in the air again. Back where he belonged. He could forget everything when he was in the air.

Just focus on flying. That's the way he liked it.

It was in the middle of his second shift back as pilot when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He stared at the name that lit up on his screen, eyebrows furrowed in confusion before answering.

“Howie? What's up, Man?”

“Hey, Tommy! Long time no talk, I know, but I, uh, I got a big favor to ask.”

#tommy kinard #911 #bucktommy #(not really though)#lonely tommy my beloved #this was not everything I wanted it to be but my niece wants to go to bed and I wanted to post this tonight #so it is what it is #enjoy!

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rafeandonlyrafe · 9 months ago

Text

deliveries

words: 1.2k

warnings: ex!rafe, reconciliation, kinda sugar daddy rafe but he just likes taking care of his girl mhm iktr

“can i say no?” you sigh.

“say no? did you not place this delivery?” the man raises his eyebrows.

“i didn't. my- my ex did.”

“well, i have to deliver it, ma’am, but i don't care what you do with it afterwards. give it to your friends or throw it out.” the man sets the bags of food at your doorstep, snapping a picture before walking off.

you can't blame him, plus it's probably a situation he's never encountered before.

you sigh as you pick up the bags, carrying them into the kitchen counter. packages, deliveries and letters have been showing up on your doorstep for two weeks, ever since you broke up with rafe.

you're sick of it at this point. as you go through the food, picking out something to eat for dinner (you're not just gonna let it go to waste!) you grab your phone and unblock rafes number.

you wonder how long it will take him to realize as you sit at your desk and eat. you're in an apartment complex with pretty tight security, it's the only reason why rafe isn't knocking at your door himself, instead sending whoever he can to get a message to you, while simultaneously making sure you have plenty of food to eat and things to take care of yourself with.

you answer your phone after the first ring. you deleted his contact, but rafes number is forever memorized in your head.

“stop sending me things.”

“baby, its a relief to hear your voice again.” rafe sighs, sounding genuinely happy, like a weight is suddenly off his chest. “please, let me just talk to you. i miss you so much.”

“no, rafe. we broke up. you need to stop.”

“why'd you break up with me? what did you tell me princess?” rafe questions. “i wasn't giving you enough attention. now im giving you everything. please, y/n.” he pleads. “im not going to stop.”

you take a deep sigh. you really love rafe, despite your relationship being only six months old when you broke up with him, it was just too much. too much attention from your friends and too much pressure from his family. it pushed your relationship farther apart until rafe barely paid attention to you, receiving constant questions from his dad and friends.

“you have to, rafe. clearly things weren't working out. we tried. we can say that. gave it a fair shot.”

“im not done trying. yes, i let my family and other people get into my head about our relationship, but im done with that bullshit. i want you back.”

“let me think about it, okay?” it's an olive branch. the best thing that you can extend right now.

“okay.” rafe agrees. “how about i call you friday?”

you glance at the calendar hanging over your desk. two days. two days to think. you're not sure it's enough or too much.

“that works… but rafe, stop sending me stuff.”

“i can't, baby.” you can practically see the way he's shaking his head right now. “gotta take care of my girl, even if you don't wanna see me.”

“fine.” you groan. you know there's no talking rafe out of it. “order me some lemonade next time then.”

you yawn as you wake up with a big stretch, instinctively reaching over to the other side of the bed. your hand pats the sheets before remembering that you left rafe.

you slide out of bed, heading towards your kitchen to get something for breakfast when a knock on your door interrupts you.

“one second!” you're in pajamas, but they're far too small and tight to answer the door in. you rush back into your bedroom and pull a robe on to cover up.

“hi!” the delivery woman smiles. “y/n?”

“yup.” you nod, stepping to the side. “do you mind just setting it down on the counter?”

the woman places the bags down before saying goodbye and seeing herself out. you sigh and look into the bags, eyes bulging when you see velvet boxes carefully placed inside one of them.

you pull out one of the boxes, gasping when a beautiful diamond necklace is revealed. you continue to open them, realizing rafe bought you jewelry of almost every variety.

“oh, gosh.” you grab a note, opening it to see his handwriting.

it's just what you deserve. i love you and want you back. can't wait to talk to you tomorrow.

rafe

p.s. i paid your rent for the next three months

you grab your phone before even looking in the other bag, dialing rafes number. he picks up almost instantly.

“you know you can't buy my love, right?”

“im not trying to.” rafe says. “im just trying to take care of you. did you get the breakfast?”

you peek into the other bag, seeing a stack of delicious looking pancakes inside a clear container, as well as some other options.

“yeah, ill eat it in a minute.”

“good.” you can practically hear rafes smile over the phone.

“how about we meet up in person to talk tomorrow instead of on the phone?”

“ill go wherever you want.”

“our first date.” is all you say before hanging up, grabbing the pancakes and container holding scrambled eggs.

you're aware you didn't say what time as you pull up to the pier. it's a warm day, sunny with almost no clouds in the sky, but a light breeze gives you the perfect amount of cooling.

you walk down the pier, unable to hold back your smile when you see rafe sitting on the bench where you ate ice cream on your first date after finally agreeing to let him take you out.

rafe watches you carefully as you sit down next to him.

“you're wearing the necklace i got you.” he smiles, seeing the gold chain around your neck.

“i am.” you nod.

“can i… can i hug you? ive missed you so much baby.”

you nod again, not sure you can find your voice as rafes arms wrap around your body, holding you into his side. you snuggle into his chest, eyes sliding shut.

“love you so much.” rafe says, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “so much i messed up the first time not trying to be too obsessed. i just didn't want to make you run away, turns out i did the exact opposite and you felt ignored. you know how my dad is…” rafe trails off as you pick your head up to look at him.

“we shouldn't have let others get between us.” you know you're not innocent in it either, contributing just as much to rafe to the tension that had grown between the two of you.

“and we won't let it happen again now that we know.” rafe says, a promising look in his eyes. you swear it looks like he might cry as you nod.

he ducks his head, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss. you fist your hands in his shirt, keeping him close as you kiss back, having missed his lips on yours more than you'd like to admit.

“does this mean you'll tell security im allowed back in?” rafe laughs gently, cupping your face, his thumb gently stroking over your cheek.

“hmm, i guess.” you giggle.

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plasticfangtastic · 6 months ago

Text

Dairy Girl

A Homelander X F! Reader fanfic

A/N: I am still working on my other projects but I just wanted to write something fun and light to get me back into writing. I hope y'all enjoy this short little piece, btw i aint got no kids so i have very little idea how milk banks work, this will be a 2 or 3 part story.

Synopsis: In order to provide a constant supply of fresh breastmilk for Vought’s number one hero, Vought has had to get quite nifty in order to prevent this secret desire out the press and the public– you have unfortunately discovered the truth.

Tags: Stockholm Syndrome, abusive dynamic, Homelander being Homelander, dub-con, dark, mild smut, breastfeeding kink, kidnapping, child-death mention tw, cheating tw, set in s4 but canon nothing, slow burn.

Word Count: 3K

Part 1– Heifer

Such a small box, smaller than a shoe box, just big enough to fit its contents with enough space for his ghost to move. You stared at the small box as its buried in the family plot… you never thought of visiting this place to ever bury the last shred of happiness you had left, his body was born weak, so small you wonder if you’d given birth to a child or a chick, 2 months ago you had come home to find your now ex in bed with his ex, he had turned this betrayal on its head and blamed you for it, something about your lack of desire lately, about how your pregnancy had given him amounts of pressures he'd never agreed with, talking endlessly about his needs and how much you’d ignored him.

Whoever this man was, you didn’t recognize him.

Time blurred into nothing but disconnected colors and shapes, all you know was that the stress and anguish lead to this.

A box under soil.

Days passed and in your empty apartment, surrounded by all the stuff you bought you stood in front of the sink, throwing a bottle of fresh milk down the drain feeling tremendous guilt, the doctor said you would dry out soon enough but your breast had swollen so much your bras no longer fit– even the spare ones you bought just in case they’ve grown a size too big from what you expected, you booked an appointment with your doctor hoping they could give you whatever cocktail of drugs to dry you out and save you from the pressure and pain in your chest, it had been nothing but a passing message from a worried neighbor who had stop by to give you some mail that had been sent to them by accident when she mentioned her daughter-in-law had donated her excess milk after her little one refused to latch, she gave you the name of the charity and after much thinking you gave in, you lost your baby but there was some woman out there who could end up experiencing your same grief if their baby starved to death, yours simply born too small and weak to hold your finger for very long.

It felt good, you met the women running the charity and even some of the faces of the women you helped, as you delivered your frozen packs to the women’s clinic where the charity operated, it helped you heal, it gave your pain purpose, but as the months faded behind you a part of you worried about how much you keep producing, less than before but still too much, yet you keep going knowing it would end soon enough.

Perhaps somebody in the clinic or the charity had dropped your information to these people but you'd received some mail regarding some research trials Vought International was running and how they needed some donors to drop fresh samples, in their pamphlet they offered to pay a decent amount--your divorce had been costly plus having to move to a new place and breaking your previous lease had left your bank account quite dry, this was cheap money, you had given your milk for free, you looked at the few pouches you had collected for next week's drop you saw a wonderful opportunity to make some quick cash.

You went to the Vought Clinic and saw a few other women filling up forms, reading old magazines or dilly-dallying on their phones until some nurse called their numbers, you filled the medical form, waited less than half an hour before your number was called, brought into a small bleach scented room, the nurse read your form and told you she would take a blood sample, a doctor came in, reciting whatever script he’d been given about what this project was, giving you big words you had no interest in, this was about providing better milk formulas closer to natural milk than anything currently in the market apparently, thanking you for your donation, he looked at your form smiling as he saw your inked words.

“You're still producing 4 months after…” The doctor handed you a disinfecting wipe and a freshly steamed breast pump in a silver tray– we just need two samples, please press the alarm to let us know you’d finished, then follow Nurse Potts to the front counter to sort out your payment.”

It had been an awkward experience, but there you were 300 dollars richer, you probably should’ve read those papers a bit closer before signing but money was money and you were told to come back if you could.

You did it a couple times for 2 months, much like a man donating sperm for pocket money or plasma to pay the rent.

That was the first mistake, you headed home and woke up the morning after wishing you had stayed out for an extra hour or two, perhaps caved in to your friends pressures and tried going back to dating (after all your ex was whoring himself all across the lower east side without moral qualms) or hookups so you would had gone to a different address, maybe you should had taken a taxi instead of taking the train and walking home.

Regardless you woke in some strange empty room, the only thing beside your person was a pair of pale pink hospital gowns, grippy socks, clean underwear and a pair of thick large towels, you screamed and banged on the door for an ungodly amount of time but nobody ever came, you stayed alone in that room for what could have been 12 hours or more… maybe less… who knew it was all too much, suddenly a sharp sound cut into the silence a note had been slid under the door, you rushed to the note.

It was instructions, they wanted you wearing their clean clothes, you could not leave the room unless you did so, and as much as you hated the idea, you wanted to get out so badly, you knew if you wanted to escape your only chance came in knowing your surroundings, you begrudgingly and tearfully changed, waiting until anything changed– the doors hissed opened, a woman in a sharp cream coloured suit stood there with clipboard and an armed guard, at the sight of the heavy looking gun– you froze.

Then you took the first step towards hell.

You knew the following things: You lived in some basement area– there were no windows, only elevators. You weren’t alone, there were other women here and they made sure to keep your interactions at minimum no doubt to keep all of you submissive and not getting any ideas, sometimes familiar faces will fade and you could only speculate nightmares. Lastly… your purpose, the reason you were trapped here in the first place was… to lactate.

A plucky little thing that stayed optimistic despite your shared horror called herself a ‘Heifer’ she wasn’t wrong… you lived in a small cell where everything had sat on top of each other feed to keep fat and producing milk much like a cow, whoever developed this diet knew of all the ingredients known to help production, and you knew there were putting something else in the food for your breast begun to feel uncomfortable, for a little while you thought you could fight it by starving yourself, then two men with guns came into the room and told you to eat or else.

The time you spend outside this microflat hong-kong style cell was in the milking room and the shower room, you were ordered to stay clean and quiet, at least in the milking room you had some television and could spend time with the other women, but they keep you isolated, you could do very little, sometimes music would play and a book would be dropped with your food but your happiness wasn’t priority, you had to fill a quota.

After a couple weeks of this you simply accepted defeat, too many guns… not enough spaces to run, and nothing to come home to… a man that wanted to sue you for more feeling as if the judge had been unfair, a pestering family who acted as if they had been the only ones who experience loss, an empty cot you still hadn’t gotten rid off and piles and piles of bills, in this quiet cool room you had spend endless hours thinking, you didn’t love your job, you had been distant from most of your friends and you could only imagine that they assumed you had run away or killed yourself after what happened nobody could blame you.

Existing for the sake of existing until you could figure out what to do next.

“Good Evening… I’m glad you’re eating so well” The lady you met the first day said as the door hissed open, she watched you like a hawk as you process this sudden interruption, clutching at your paper thin blanket, you looked at the floral fabric in her arms and the clipboard under her arm– I need you to sign this before you’re allowed upstairs”

“Am I being let out?” You said anxiously, no way it could be that easy you thought.

The lady let her smile waiver, looking at the unseen guard then at her wrist watch as she handed you the clipboard.

“Your performance might determine how soon you'll be release…”

“You assume I won’t go to the police…”

“That wouldn’t be wise Miss L/N but we assure you that you’ll be sufficiently compensated for the inconvenience.”

You wanted to yell, but a voice in the back of your head thought of this but nothing but pageantry, you were dead either way, but perhaps this could be your opportunity to escape, whatever they wanted to do now meant being outside of these buried walls, you signed the sheet without thinking, briefly considered stabbing the bitch in the eye but is likely they would turn you into swiss cheese before you even took a step too close, she took the paperwork from your hands and in change handed you a long sleeved dressed straight out of the mormon section in target, she closed the door and you dressed up.

The halls looked so odd when you didn’t wear your prison clothes, the other few doors housed sleeping and bored girls, your plucky friend hidden behind one of them, the new girl hidden behind one of them and the girl you seen before in the milking room once hid behind one of them.

They took you to an elevator– it was old box, if you had to guess by the button’s design maybe built in the late or mid 70s, you never left their side until the elevator closed before them, the box moved slowly, a dingy silver box with low honey coloured lights, so dim… and you were alone, as the light chime as it went up you felt your entire being sink into your stomach, your heart beating so fast you were sure you were gonna have a heart attack before the doors opened once again, swallowing dry spit, your eyes opened so wide it hurt.

Quiet… it was so quiet when the doors opened, you expected something else, something menacing… something frightening– not an old house, an old house in the middle of some evergreen forest, everything screams old, untouched, museum like, like it's meant to present this idea that somebody lives here but not really, despite it being an elevator hidden behind a bookcase, you take a few cautious steps, your naked feet bury in the plush carpet, there’s bird singing outside and the sun is so bright and warm it hurts your eyes, the cool tones gone and this feels like a bad dream, pinching yourself but you’re awake, tragically awake, a weird wiry smile creeps on your lips, an almost laugh escapes your lips before you can feel tears burning your eyes.

“Hello…?” You ask and you don’t know why.

As you venture into the living room, hands firm against the tacky dark pink wallpaper, you found old floral couches that matched the drapes and despite how old school it was it had a charm to it.

Then you saw him.

Perusing the VHS collection filled the entire bookcase on the wall, just rows and rows of VHS boxes, some plastic and some cardboard, the TV boxy and just as antiquated but who cared— he was there.

You ran before you even realized you done it, crashing into him with desperation, tears staining your cheeks and you could barely breath as you tried so hard to speak.

“Homelander please help me!! I’ve been kidnapped!! Please!!” You cried, pulling on his suit– please!!”

Those endlessly blue eyes more poison dart hide than veronica flower bush the more they stared at you calmly, his lips into a thin smile and his hand thad taken your wrist inflicting just enough force to keep you firmly in his grip… to show you how he wasn’t an ordinary man, he looked at you as your tears changed meaning as if you were the most unfortunate creature he’d ever seen, his lips parted just enough to show those sharp canines that had looked so charming in sidewalk posters, now you could sense their presence squeezing at your jugular.

“You are so much prettier in person, Y/N.” His voice is disturbingly soft and calm, intimately quiet as he takes a whiff of your neck, moving you to make it easier, his free hand creeped towards your hip– I was so glad when I saw your picture and you weren’t hideous.”

Trembling against him, a nonexistent cold draft blew against you, your whole body shivering and covered in goosebumps.

His eyes fixated in your breast, mouth agape as his tongue dared to lick his lip, watching you like a starved man at a las vegas buffet, his hand slithering upwards, you know where this is leading, you can’t stop crying but you can’t scream either, you're just there as his hand avoids your breasts and creeps towards your back and presses your bodies together.

“I’m so glad you signed that sheet, I was getting sad endlessly waiting for one of you to agree to the deal” He says quietly, you stare at him and you realize you should’ve actually read that stupid sheet– why so scared? I ain’t gonna bite.” He bites the air as a joke and you could tell that that single bite could have torn your finger off cleanly.

His eyes shift to your clinging fingers that stayed so stiff against his padded suit, you stopped squeezing at him now they rested limp against him.

“Let’s watch a movie…”

It’s an awkward dance concluding in sitting down on a couch, its surprisingly soft and you’re sinking on the cushion while your mind dissolved in the sky, the coffee table had a humbled spread of snacks, pizza and milkshakes, not once did you notice, you stared at him clutching at your dress as he picked something out of the shelve, watching as his hand worked the VHS player, the clicks and whirling all you could focus on. He sat beside you as the speakers began to play the included trailers, he took the drink urging you to do the same with a menacing look, filling you with incomplete thoughts as you obeyed.

Malt vanilla marinated in your tongue, you had a terrible thought.

‘Milk’

You were there to provide milk… to whom? Why just milk? You thought they would sell your body or your organs, experiment on you but… they wanted your milk, but who was buying it? Who was drinking it? Where did it go? You stared at the pretty blond whose arm kept your shoulders still, you saw the news– you’d known he had a child and who knows with whom but his kid was old enough to not need it… was it for him? You thought… thinking of it as ridiculous until you remember how 20 minutes ago he was staring at your tits as if he was malnourished, you looked at his lips pursing as he took a long sip of his milkshake and wonder if that was milk… from a cow… not a heifer like you.

Homelander smiled at you.

“I don’t like ‘The mothman prophecy’ , never been a Richard Gere fan” he said casually.

“He was really good in ‘Pretty Woman’ . This one is okay…” You looked at the screen your voice so stiff– what’s going on…? Mr. Homelander… I…"

“Shhh… watch the movie” He leaned against you resting his head on your shoulder– you tasted the best… every batch perfection– such delicate custardy taste… So this is what we are gonna do… I’ll keep you in this floor so you’re not so bored ."

You swear he’s purring as he rubs himself against you marking you as much as he was making himself comfortable.

“There’s cameras everywhere… The glass is bulletproof, doors won’t open without a fob and code, and there’s no phones or internet, but if you do manage to get out of here just be aware I’ll know.” He said such terrible things as if it was nothing– if you tried to off yourself there will be 3 armed guards and nurses here in less than a minute but if you behave I promise you– you’ll be allowed out, but only if you gain my trust.” He looks up at you as you focus on those thin lips of his– there’s no kitchen but your meals will be delivered… if you want anything just tell the camera over there.”

He pointed at the corner tucked in between two VHS tapes was a small camera.

“I like you Y/N you're cute… you’ll behave for me, right?”

You nodded, too afraid to disagree.

“Now… let’s finish the movie… I actually like this part”

You stared at the pizza box, you could at least tell that the pizza was from an american restaurant, which made you feel safe ‘Select Pizza and Grill” said in the box and you knew you were somewhere in Pennsylvania, far from your apartment in Clinton Hill.

You looked at your boobs feeling his piercing gaze on them, you started drawing lines connecting weird things together, back when you were donating your milk, girls joked about people buying for medicinal and fetish purposes, this spelled itself out for you.

Maybe you could get out of here… but you had to do something weird… but as you heard the birds outside and the warm light peeked into the room, you realized maybe you could leave… no you’ll leave, you’ll go back home and you would find a way to ruin this man and those bastards beneath you, you’ll get them out too, so you took one courageous breath and forced a smile on your dried lips.

“You really liked it?”

“Huh?”

“My milk…” You mumbled– you know I never tasted it myself but am glad to get a review.”

“It’s really tasty” he bites his lip.

Your hand plays with one of the buttons on the dress.

“It hurts a bit… I usually get asked to pump around this time… dunno if you know this but it's a bit painful when they get this swollen.”

The look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know and as you leaned away from him pulling on buttons with slightly trembling fingers, you watched him follow your movements like a snake chasing prey.

“Would you help me out, mister superhero?” Is not flirty but is slightly playful and you’re surprised that you can lie that well, he’s so shameless as he shakes his head enthusiastically, mouth opening for you– please don’t bite.”

He gasps as you let him see all that he’d wanted from the get go, why he put you in that box, why you ended up in this place for.

His body was lighter than you thought as he sunk against you-- eyes closed, body limp against yours, he made the softest sounds it put you at ease somehow, for a moment you saw a very small being latched on your chest, you’d only experienced it once before, and it was seared into your mind as a painful yet tender memory, so you close your eyes dreaming of a fantasy far removed from this peculiar reality, half lid eyes found a man so blissed out your lips curved, this was unbelievable, the world most famous supe keeping you hostage just so you could indulged him.

But you knew now… that this was your way out.

#homelander #homelander x reader #personal #the boys fanfic #my fic tag #plz forgive my use of firecracker gif #this is not proofread i died like a dog if i must #homelander x fem!reader #the boys amazon

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trippinsorrows · 3 months ago

Text

ltye + sick days

authors note: oneshot inspired by this wonderful ask . this is purely canon and actually takes place a lil bit into the future. not too long after chapter 23, so let's say a couple weeks after solana has been home from the hospital.

might or might not have one or two things sprinkled in this here one......

gif by @romanreigns

warnings: none, really. just roman being roman.

words: 4.3k

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

It started with irritability. More so than usual. Not towards her, per se. Never towards her. Just in general.

An increase in snippy comments, harsher gazes, and more yelling that traveled from the confines of his office and soon made its way to the sanctuary of their kitchen, often fighting with the music Solana usually had playing.

And then there was the fatigue. Solana has always thought Roman doesn’t get enough sleep, for a variety of reasons. But, rarely does he lag. Does she visibly see the difficulty he’s having in seizing the day. And for the most part, he does a phenomenal job, making it, pushing through as he kisses her cheek and leaves for the day.

But, she sees it.

And finally, when she’s awoken by a set of hoarse, painful sounding coughs. Solana just knows. Not the specifics, just the general, overall consensus.

That Roman is sick.

Not that he wants to believe or acknowledge that anyway.

Hand to his forehead, she doesn’t need a thermometer to know that he’s burning up.

"What’s your doctor’s name and number?" Solana moves to grab her phone off the bathroom counter, unlocking it and looking up at Roman expectantly. "Well?"

Of course, he only rolls his eyes and slips into a state of avoidance. "Solana, I don’t need—"

"Roman, you’re sick. You’ve been sick the past couple days, and it’s not getting any better." She reaches for his hand, turning it over, feeling on his palm. She then moves her two fingers to his wrist, eyes closing for a good minute. She then places her hand over his heart and asks, "are you having any pain in your chest? Sharp pains? Shortness of breath? I’ve noticed the fatigue and obviously the cough and fever. Any chills?"

"Solana—"

"I’m trying to see if you have any symptoms of pneumonia. Could also be the flu."

"Or, a cold."

"Maybe, but I want to find out for sure." Her expression softens, lips moving downward into a small frown. "The doctor, Ro…….please."

And she’s certain it’s that last 'please', the way her voice dips into a different level of concern that wins him over. That gets him to give her the requested information, Solana arranging it so that his doctor is over at the house in a little under an hour.

Dr. Michaels examination is a matter of minutes before he’s sharing with both patient and patient’s wife. “Yup. It’s definitely the flu.”

Roman looks annoyed, meanwhile Solana is a combination of relieved and worried. She shifts into protective mode, asking, “so antiviral medications, right? Probably Xofluza? Less side effects. Single dose. Unless it counteracts with his high blood pressure medication?”

Solana’s unexpected medical expertise takes both Roman and Dr. Michaels by surprise, the latter cracking a small smile as he asks, genuinely curious, “you in the medical field?”

Her eyes widen a bit. “No. No. I–my mom was, and she taught me a lot, and I just—I’ve read a lot.” More than the average person. Solana would spend hours on end reading medical journals, watching online lectures, finding free online courses on various medical topics.

It also became a bit of a necessity when her father stopped taking her to the hospital, and she had to learn to tend to her own injuries.

But that.....that doesn't really need to be stated.

Shawn chuckles. “You should be.” Roman doesn’t say anything, but he agrees. “You know more than some of my students.” Solana’s cheeks redden as she looks down, clearly unsure of how to take such a compliment as Dr. Michaels returns his focus to Roman. “The Mrs. is right. I’m gonna call you in some medication, Xofluza, as she stated. And again, like she said, it’s a single dose, which means you only have to take it once, which with you, makes it more likely for you to actually follow through with taking it.”

“He’ll take it,” Solana chimes, nodding to both herself and the two men before. “I’ll—I’ll make sure.”

Again, the doctor looks impressed, smile widening. “I like her, Reigns. Don’t fuck it up.” Roman looks increasingly irritated, as Shawn hits Solana with an unexpected question, “you wouldn’t happen to have a guess as to what dosage I’m prescribing, do ya?”

Solana is obviously taken back for a second but doesn’t skip a beat as she thinks back onto all of her reading and research. “He’s an adult, and because of his weight, the 80mg?”

The doctor makes a sound, shaking his head as he types on his tablet. “Tell you what, you ever decide to enter the field, let me know. I will personally assist you with anything you need.” Solana doesn’t know what to make of that, doesn’t know how to take an actual medical professional, someone who has an abundance of accolades and degrees behind his name speaking so highly of her, someone with only a high school diploma. It’s flattering, to say the least.

“Thank you.” She clears her throat, shaking her head, getting back to the main issue at hand. “He needs to rest, right? Lots of liquids. Motrin or Tylenol, if he needs it.”

Dr. Michaels closes the cover over the screen of his laptop, directing his comment to Roman. “You’re definitely in great hands, Big Guy.”

The Tribal Chief doesn’t disagree with that. Doesn’t disagree with that at all.

—------

Roman has always noticed Solana has a caretaker type of personality. That she cares about others and likes to help when and how she can. Truthfully, it’s one of the many things he loves about her. Her heart. She’s the most empathetic person he’s ever met.

But, what’s new for him is being so deeply on the receiving end of that caretaking. He’s experienced it with her patching him up after War Games and the night he attacked her father and brother. Maybe even in the way she stays tops of him with his high blood pressure medication, but never to this extent.

Starting with her actually stipulating shit.

He’s in the room, dressing himself when she walks in having returned from the pharmacy with his medication.

She suddenly stops and asks, "what....what are you doing?"

“Getting ready for work,” he answers it so simply, so easily, like it’s the most basic thing he could ever say. “Just have to—”

“Roman, you can’t go to work.”

He turns to look at her, having just pulled his shirt over his head. With a chuckle, he gently replies, “baby, I have to.”

Solana places the bag on the bed, crossing her arms as she walks over to him. “Ro, you have the flu. Not only is it highly contagious, but you're in no position to work.”

“Sol, I’ve been working through sickness my whole life. I’ll be fine.” He always is. “And if it’s that contagious, I definitely don’t need to be around you. I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I don’t care about that.” Her dismissal is quick and sharp. “I care about you and taking care of you until you feel better, which starts with you staying here, so I can watch you." Solana makes a face, something similar to indignation as she shakes her head. “You’re staying here.”

Roman sighs, loudly. “Baby—”

“No!” She raises her voice, quickly and rapidly saying something in Spanish that he can’t make out but doesn’t necessarily need to to know that she’s not happy. Taking a deep breath, she asks in a calmer manner, “please?” She steps toward him, grabbing onto his forearm. “I’ll just worry about you all day if you leave…..”

Roman’s gaze is knowing, as he asks, “you know I don’t like you worrying about me.”

She nods, eyes almost mischievous as she confirms, “so you’ll stay?”

He can’t help it. He has to laugh a little. It’s such a different side of her, seeing Solana almost be manipulative, playing upon the fact that she knows he hates when she spends her time worrying about him. “Today.”

“This week,” she counters.

That’s absolutely not going to happen, but he doesn’t want to argue with her. “Fine.” Solana looks relieved and a part of him feels bad lying to her. He knows she means well, that she only wants to help him, but the truth is that he can’t afford to be out of commission for a whole week.

Or maybe he can, and it’s just his naturally controlling personality that makes him feel like he needs to stay in the loop. Regardless of that fact, he’ll just let her have this for now.

Emphasis on for now.

Solana nods, clearly pleased with this win. “Here.” She moves to grab the bag of medicine, ripping it open and reaching it to him along with a water bottle. Where the fuck did she even grab that from? “Take your medicine. I’m going to make you some soup.”

Roman scowls at that. “Soup?” He loves Solana’s food. She truly can cook her ass off, and while no soup she’s made has ever been bad, it’s not his favorite thing. “What about—”

She lifts up a hand silencing him, at the same moment a nasty set of coughs leaves his mouth. Stupid fucking flu. “Only soup for the next few days.”

His eyes widen a bit at that. “Days?” How the fuck is he supposed to live off fucking soup for the next few days? “Solana—”

“Yes, soup.” She pouts, crossing her arms and waiting for him to swallow the pill before she continues, “we need to keep fluids in you, so that means lots of soup, water, and juice.”

This shit just keeps getting more annoying and stressful, as Roman tries to help her understand his side of things here. “Baby, I’m 6’3, almost 300lbs. I need more than just soup.”

“I’ll make it hearty.” She shrugs, but that doesn’t do him much good, cause she always does. And he always ends up wanting more, both because it’s good but also because he has a massive appetite. “Now take off those clothes and change into something comfortable, but keep your shirt off.” The last part definitely catches his attention, and Roman has to bite back a chuckle as her cheeks redden. “Not ... .not that. I picked up some Vicks Vaporub to rub on you.” Again, his eyebrow goes up and again, she gets even redder. “Roman, please. I’m trying to help you.”

“I think I need a different kind of help.” When he goes to grab her and pull her into him, she jumps back, lifting her hands to stop him.

“Get changed,” she redirects. “ I’ll be back in a couple minutes.”

—------

Solana is a patient person, much more than most, but she’s also human. Compassion and empathy can have limitations. And in a twist she never saw coming, she feels that to a certain extent with her big, strong husband who’s not much different from the kids she reads to when they come in for reading time feeling not the best.

Roman is a horrible patient. He’s stubborn and borderline obstinate, Solana constantly having to remind him that he needs to rest and resting does not including cussing people out over the phone which has happened more often than not in the past three days since he’s been out sick.

Which was a whole other thing. She’s found it practically impossible to convince this man that he can afford to take a couple days off, that the Bloodline will not collapse and cease to exist if Roman Reigns takes a couple days off.

Except that seems to be exactly what he thinks.

Solana is in the kitchen, whipping up another pot of Caldo de pollo when Dulce comes sauntering in, stretching her short little body, tail wagging.

Placing the lid over the pot, Solana smiles and moves to pet her puppy when a thought crosses her mind. Dulce was in their bedroom sleeping, as was Roman. Dulce typically only gets up at movement.

Which means…..

Sighing heavily, Solana mumbles to herself, “este hombre.” Walking with purpose, Dulce right on her heel, following with naive excitement as Solana starts with his office. When that’s a dead end, she goes to the only other place he would sneak off to despite her orders for him to stay in bed and rest.

Sure enough, Solana finds him changed into workout shorts, no top, phone in his hand. She snatches a brief second to take him in. Roman doesn’t look bad—she’s not sure he could ever look bad even if he tried—-but he doesn’t look amazing either. It would be obvious to anyone looking at him, the paleness of his complexion, the ruddiness of his cheeks, the cough that’ll probably be the last to go, that he’s sick.

If only he could accept that.

“Man, R! I literally told you 789 Little Street!” Solana recognizes Jey’s exasperated voice on the other end of the call. “How is it every time you mess this up?”

“I thought you said 987 Little Street!” There’s another voice present, one Solana doesn’t recognize.

“I told you to stop letting his dyslexic ass handle shipments!” Jimmy’s annoyed voice sounds, and Solana watches Roman pinch the bridge of his nose.

“That’s—that’s on me. My—my bad. Imma make it right though!”

“No,” Roman’s baritone voice, even deeper with his sickness, cuts through. “Jey, have Jacob handle it. I don’t have time for these types of fuck ups.”

And at that, giving Roman enough time to issue a clear order, Solana makes her presence known, arms crossed, a scowl on her face.

Roman looks briefly surprised followed by a quiet, “fuck.”

“Roman, you are literally worse than a child. How many times do I have to tell you to rest?” She more or less rants in Spanish, well aware of the fact that he can’t understand her. It’s preferred. She doesn’t like fussing at anyone, let alone him. Marching over, Dulce right beside her, she extends her hand. “Give me your phone.”

He looks at her with disbelief. “What?”

“Aye, Soso, is that you?” Jimmy asks, clearly recognizing her voice. “Look, I know Big Dog sick and shit, but if you cooking, can you leave some food outside or something? I can swing by and pick—” The request is cut off by Roman’s finger jabbing the end button.

“I just need to get a workout in, Solana.” Roman explains, running his hand through his hair. “It’s been two days. I feel like shit because of it.”

“No, you feel like shit, Roman, because you have the flu and because you refuse to actually rest,” she counters, hand still extended.

“I can rest when I’m dead,” he deadpans.

Solana winces, scowl dropping into a frown. “Don’t say things like that.” She steps toward him, dropping her hand and instead placing it on his chest. His skin is warm to her touch, most likely to the fever that still hasn’t broken. “That—that’s why I’m trying to help you. Take care of you.”

Something flashes in his eyes, something akin to compassion. “And I appreciate that, baby. I do, but you’re too worried. You took off work this week, check on me every hour on the hour, cook even more than that—”

“And I’ll keep doing it, because it’s what you need and because I love you, and that’s what you do for the people you love.” She explains, taking full advantage of the way Roman seems briefly distracted and possibly moved by her kind words to snatch his phone away. It shocks the both of them. He’s definitely sick, because there’s no way a non-sick Roman would allow her, even with her speed, to get away with that. “Now come with me in the kitchen. Food’s almost ready.”

Roman goes to protest when Dulce jumps against his leg. One look down, and she’s essentially growling at him.

He starts to say some smart shit when Solana giggles. “See, she agrees with me. You need to rest.”

“Yeah, because that’s all her biased, lazy ass does.”

“Don’t be mean to her,” Solana scolds and moves to hold his hand, tugging slightly to get him in the right direction. The one opposite all the equipment that will cause him to expend energy he really doesn't have. “It’s almost time for your next Tylenol dosage.”

Roman doesn’t try to stop her from guiding him, but he does groan at her latest statement. “All this damn medicine.”

She shakes her head, Roman easily finding a much better thing to focus on in the sway of her ass in the short, little gray nightgown she has on. It’s mesmerizing and distracting in the best kind of way.

“It’s only going to help you feel better……” She says more, but again, his attention elsewhere. No workouts. No real food. No sex. This shit is fucking torture. Roman is so caught up in his overall dissatisfaction that he’s briefly taken back when they’re in the kitchen, and he’s sat down at the table while Solana moves over to the stove.

His gaze falls on her, not even her ass. Well, not entirely. Just her as a person. To be fair, he knows he hasn’t been the easiest person to deal with. He never is, really. And while he hasn’t done the best job showing Solana his appreciation, his gratitude is immense.

Years. He’s spent years feeling alone. Following that night, Fetu has only been present since he was 21, but that’s not consistent. He can’t see her as much as he’d like, can’t spend time with her to the extent he would prefer. He’s limited, and that limitation doesn’t do anything to quell loneliness.

For so long, he’s been on his own, taking care of himself, looking out for himself. It’s such a new experience to have Solana. To know she cares for him as much as she does. For her to love him like she does.

He’s not sure he could ever admit it aloud, but it can be overwhelming. Having someone like her love someone like him.

Undeserving, almost.

“Here ya go,” Solana announces, placing his tray in front of him, consisting of the soup, a spoon, napkins, and his drink. “Let me know if…...what’s wrong?” Before he can answer, she feels his forehead. “No chest pain, right?”

He shakes his head, not quite sure just what is the best thing to say or even how to say it but doing what he can. “I’m not…..I’m not used to anyone taking care of……taking care of me.” It’s usually the other way around, Roman having to handle everything for everyone around him. “I’m sorry for….making things harder on you.”

And, he is. He knows that he’s a dick. Beyond that at times. But, she’s the one person in his life he never wants to be on the receiving end of that kind of behavior. Especially when all she wants to do is help.

Solana’s smile is soft and gentle as she moves into his lap. That’s another thing he hates. Her being around him so much. He doesn’t want to get her sick, something she seems almost completely uncaring about.

She strokes his beard. “You don’t have to apologize, Ro.”

“Don’t do that shit.” His tone is firm, but the delivery is patient and truly apologetic. “I’ve been difficult, and you don’t deserve that. You deserve an apology, and you don’t have to dismiss it.”

Because one thing he’s always been and will always be adamant about is helping her know what she does and does not deserve. She’s been done so wrong by so many people in her life. He refuses to let anyone else be added to that list, including himself.

Solana chuckles, her gaze on him warm and loving. “You might be the only person in my life I don’t think I’d ever want an apology from, Roman.” He doesn’t necessarily agree with that. Not at all. She thinks so damn highly of him. Too highly, maybe. “I love you, and it’s like I’ve said before, I’d do anything for you.” She leans over and kisses his temple, teasing, “even put up with you being a big baby about being sick.”

He scowls a bit at that, unable to hold in his clarification. “I’m not being a baby. I just don’t like being sick.”

At that, Dulce barks, sitting down on the floor in front of them, watching the entire scene unfold.

Solana giggles. “No one does, baby.” She pouts for a minute before her expression switches to something more serious. “And I can help you get better, but that means you have to listen to me….okay?” He sighs, Solana adding, “even if you don’t necessarily like it.”

“I don’t like any of it.” Roman is many things, and brutally honest is near the top of that list. “Especially the not being able to fuck you part.”

As expected, she starts blushing at his raw admission, but it’s followed up with one of her own too. In her own Solana type of way. “I—I miss that too, but—” she shakes her head as his eyebrow goes up. “—your health comes first.”

It seems like everything comes first when it comes to him for her. Again, he’s torn on that, but another conversation for another day.

Climbing off his lap, she lightly squeezes his bicep. “Now get to eating.” Roman moves to slap her ass, Solana squealing and shoving his hand away. “Behave, Roman.”

Dulce barks again, Solana directing her to follow her out the back door. “I’ll be right back,” she informs, closing the door as soon as the puppy is outside.

Roman chuckles to himself, staring at the tray laid out for him so thoughtfully by his wife. His best friend.

His everything.

—------

It's a long week and a half, most of which is spent Roman doing his best to follow his wife’s orders but also struggling to not fall into his normal routine. He definitely earns a couple of Spanish scoldings as well as some low growling from her pocket pet, but when all is said and done, Roman comes out on the other end starting to feel more and more like himself.

Enough to where he’s ready to actually see beyond the inside of his home.

A necessity, as he was most definitely teetering on the verge of going stir crazy.

Roman is prepared to head out the door in a little under twenty minutes, already having a line of meetings awaiting him, all coordinated by his Wise Man.

But, he has to do something first.

She’s in the kitchen, washing up some dishes, humming to herself when he comes up behind her.

Solana jumps a little, a small smile falling on her face that morphs into confusion when he lowers his hands in front of her. He hears her gasp as he places the diamond necklace on her neck, moving her hair to the side to clasp the hook. “Roman…..” She reaches for a towel, drying her hands and looking down, fingers carefully grasping at the nearly 100k gift. “This is beautiful. You didn’t have to—”

“Of course, I did,” he dismisses, moving his hands around her waist, kissing the side of her neck. “You took care of me all last week, and you didn’t have to. I appreciate that. I appreciate you.” He watches her continue to admire just a small token of his gratitude for her and everything she does for him. “And you know, Michaels was right. You’re smart as hell, Solana. You ever thought of trying to go to school?”

At that, she turns to him, eyes set with slight confusion. “M–me?”

Roman chuckles, gently squeezing her cheek. “Yes, you, baby.” He continues, seeing she could use a bit of affirmation and encouragement. “The fact that you know and have self taught yourself so many things, even without a college degree just shows how smart you are. How good you’d be at that, whether nursing, a doctor—”

“A doctor?” She interrupts in a small voice, Roman enjoying the smile that’s gradually growing. “Do you really……” And there it goes, he can see it, the insecurity sweeping in as she shakes her head. “Roman, I’m almost 30. I’m too old for that now. I–I missed my oppurt—”

“Hey.” He cuts her off, firm but still patient. “You can do whatever the fuck you want to do, Solana.” He gently palms her face, making sure she understands he’s fully behind her. No matter what. “You want to go back to school? I’ll make it happen. You have my support in whatever you want, baby.” She’s visibly moved by this, and he’s grateful to at least see that spark return. “Just think about it……okay?”

She nods, agreeing in a quiet voice. “Okay.” Roman kisses her forehead, moving to step away when he catches the change in her expression. As she briefly covers her mouth. Like she's about to throw up.“What’s wrong?”

Solana looks up and shakes her head, explaining with a shrug after a few seconds of clearly gathering herself, “I've just been kind of tired the past few days. Nauseous too.”

At that, Roman tenses and curses. “Fuck, did I get you sick?” He knew that shit would happen. She was around him too much. Interactions and touches exceeding what was appropriate. “I’ll stay—”

“No,” she cuts him off, turning to face him as she places her hand on his chest. “I don’t think it’s that. I’ve—I’ve had the flu before. This feels different.” That doesn’t help him feel much better either, but she seems determined. “I’ll be fine. If I still don’t feel good at work, I’ll just come back home.” She shrugs guessing, “probably just a stomach bug or something.”

He’d rather her not leave at all, but a part of him also wants to see her out of the house as well. A change in environment. “Okay, but if you come home early, let me know, alright?” Cause there’s no way in hell he’s going to let her be sick all by herself. Not when she spent a week and a half off work tending to him.

“Okay,” she agrees, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

Roman doesn’t stiffen at the words, doesn’t feel torn or conflicted, just an intense amount of reciprocity.

“I love you too, baby.”

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns oneshot #arisnotebook

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bahrtofane · 1 month ago

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thinking thinking of a college au where jude happens to accidentally runs right into you while he's rushing to make it to an exam and it sends you tumbling and he yells a bunch of apologies to you while you just stare at him with a from from the ground.

and he feels so bad oh so bad but his exam is in 5 mins and it takes him 8 to get there he needs to run.

post exam he spends his free time trying to find you and makes it his mission to properly apologize. he's a big guy and the concrete side walk isnt exactly a soft landing you definitely got a few bruises.

oh you definitely hate him and rightfully so. hes so mean!!

----

jude finds you again, eventually. after a whole month of asking around and stalking instagram posts and the schools website for any clues. he meets you again on the same side while hands tucked into the jacket you wear bopping your head to whatever music youre listening to through you headphones.

jude perks up right away, weaving through people till he taps your shoulder and hes finally found you again.

your eye brows raise as you turn. "oh my god its you." you sneer eyes narrowed.

"listen im so sorry-" he tries.

"yeah no shit i feel on my ass and had a bruise the size of my god damn face man." you’ve taken your headphones off now.

he winces. "i really am sorry i didnt mean to at all."

you scoff, "yeah buddy sure. do you always push people into the ground and run away or am i just that lucky."

he scratches the back of his head, trying not to make eye contact with passersby who are definitely ease dropping.

"i was late to an exam and didn’t see you. i've been trying to find you this whole time to apologize its been eating me up inside."

you sigh.

"listen, let me take you for dinner or pay for something. i really want to make it up to you i know the fall was a killer you landed so rough.."

"i know," you dead pan, "i was there."

he gives an awkward crack of a smile while playing with the zipper on his hoodie. "no pressure." he whispers.

"fine okay. but id rather not dinner. a cafe or something. "

he smiles, it reaches his eyes things time. "amazing," he hands you his phone, "give me your number and we can figure out when?"

you reluctantly take it, typing yoru number in and sending him a hi message.

he takes the phone back, texting you a quick hello its jude.

you hum, "your names Jude?"

He nods, "sure is."

"im still calling you tall asshole."

"ill take it."

he hopes you forgive him. (you do, this is an excuse to talk to him more).

#jude x reader #jb5 blurb #jb5 x reader #jude victor william bellingham #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fanfic #jude fluff #jude bellingham fic #football fanfic #footy fic #footballer fic

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where-does-the-heart-lie · 2 years ago

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Grand Line Crew Modern Au Gang!

i hope yall enjoy, this took a while to get all together, here

ASL post

East Blue Crew post

Friends we made along the way 1 post

Friends we made along the way 2 post

i dont have many additional headcanons for this lot, but i did write a short story with them :) enjoy

Brook only wears the absolute grooviest of clothing at all times.

That’s just gonna have to be there 👆 tumblr likes to glitch out my posts.

Dont give chopper caffeine. He’ll either have a heart attack or operate on 5x speed, its a gamble every time.

robin and franky love watching home improvement shows, house hunters, how its made, myth busters, and other technical shows together.

When Luffy shows robin memes on his phone, she takes out her reading glasses and holds the phone like a mom does. Ya know that squint. You know.

Jinbei used to be a trucker and had a convoy with s bunch of his truckin’ buddies. They had matching leather jackets with “the sun truckers” embroidered on the back

Franky has a wig closet. It is vast. If you went in there you'd think you were in Narnia or something

Chopper is BEYOND CONVINCED that Sabo is a vampire.

One day, sabo volunteered as an assistant in a medical class chopper was taking. He was acting as chopper’s patient as he was learning the patient procedures of a checkup.

It was all going fine, chopper got all the patient identification out of the way and next was to acquire blood pressure, breath count, and heart rate. But the stethoscope and pressure monitor wasn’t working, and it make it seem like Sabo,,, didnt have a pumping heart,, or blood,,, or really breathed at all(he doesnt take very visible breaths).

Chopper was stricken with fear at this and assumed the absolute worse as he looked in horror at Sabo’s naturally pale complexion and long canine teeth. Chopper simply jotted down the average count of each recording instead of getting new equipment, and tried not to think about it, but

“huh, all of those numbers are usually lower than that. Maybe all that Special Concoction™ i drink is finally catching up to my heart rate.”

“how much have you.. drunk?”

“like for today? Or since I woke up.”

Chopper is fucking horrified. Sabo woke up to being a vampire and drinks blood as a special concoction. He cannot believe this.

”Never mind, I don't need to know, its all normal, you're normal.”

“Wow… that's the first time a medical practitioner has called me normal. My brothers are gonna get a real kick outta this.”

CHOPPER IS FUCKING HORRIFIED. HE HAS BRETHEREN??? Chopper just keeps his head down and finishes up the check up practice as Sabo remarks he has another class in the blood bank, which was lemon in the paper cut for chopper.

For a month or so after that day, Chopper didn’t see Sabo at all, and he forgot about his fear for a little while. However one night as chopper was hanging with Luffy and a few others in the straw hat friend group, there was a knock at the door. Chopper happily said “I’ll get it~” as the rest of the group continued in conversation.

Chopper skips over to the door and when he opens it, he sees the figure of Sabo standing in front of him. Tall and opposing, smiling a big toothy grin with bright blue eyes shining from the overhead lighting. He’s wearing a long trench coat with the collar popped and an ascot was wrapped around his neck.

What chopper was seeing before him.

Was the vampire.

He let out a scream right out of a horror film and promptly fainted.

A minute or two later, he awoke laying on the couch, feet elevated and vest unbuttoned, to his friends looking at him from the foot of the couch.

He goes to stand up, but a strong gloved hand stops his movement and guides him back down

“Don't get up too quickly, little man.”

Chopper looked next to him and saw The Vampire. What was he doing in his house?!?!?

“Are you alright, bud? You opened the door for me, screamed in my face, and then passed out.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Chopper said with the highest voice-crack to word ratio in his entire life.

“Right. Well again, dont get up too quickly, if you need water or anything let your friends know. I just came here to pick up Luffy cuz some family stuff came up. Have a good night!”

“…you too, and thanks for taking care of me…”

“No prob!”

“One last question?” Inquired chopper.

“What's up?”

“Did someone invite you in?”

the end

PS: Sabo's "special concoction" consists of Red Bull and Espresso. He hasn't slept in 72 hours. This will have lasting effects on his health.

thats all for now! thanks for reading~

#i am constantly delighted at how “crew” rhymes with “AU”#my art #one piece #one piece fan art #tony tony chopper #chopper #nico robin #cyborg franky #soul king brook #jinbe #one piece modern au #op modern au

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staticbleeding · 4 months ago

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⛧°。 ⋆Waiting on the Stars ⋆°⛧

+:｡.｡　teen Stanford Pines x gn reader　｡.｡:+

Part 3 is here y'all!! I'm tempted to keep a majority of the story in Ford's POV. Let me know what y'all think! warnings : strong language, suggestive language, the usual teen shit pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

1972 What happens when Ford's chance to ask you out is right in front of him? Will he grab it and run? Or will his time run out?

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Ford's POV

"Hello?"

What do I say? God their voice is so pretty. Do I hang up? No that's creepy.

Thoughts race through my head. Fear and anger crashes over my body like waves. Finally the reality hits, I need to say something.

"H-Hi (Y/N)?" I stutter out finally.

"Ford? Hey! How'd you get my number?" Their voice rings in my ears as a blush raises throughout my face.

"Stan. He saw you left your notebook in class today and let me call to tell you..I promise I didn't look through it at all! Just your..number." I feel myself mentally cringing at how creepy all of this could sound.

"Oh shit. I didn't even notice! Thank you!" They laugh and thank me, I feel my heart begin to beat faster. Not out of fear or anxiety, but of something else.

"Oh it's nothing! Just..buddies looking out for each other...not assuming we are buds or anything! Just a phrase..yeah phrase." I say and look up seeing Stan shaking his head and laughing. A silent glare is directed at him.

"Of course we are! Looking out for each other. Speaking of which, um would you like to meet up sometime this weekend so I can get it back? Not like a date or anything." I hear their voice quiet down at the last part. My heart tightens up and my stomach drops.

"SO like a date?! Oh he would LOVE to honey! I'll make sure he dresses all fancy for ya. Flowers and all! I like you already! He will pick you up tomorrow at 7 alright?" My mother's voice rings out through the line. I turn around towards the living room and see her sitting in her usual chair with the phone in her hands. She looks up at me and blows a kiss before getting up and walking away like she didn't just say the words I have been so scared to say out loud so nonchalantly. Oh God please let the floor open up and just swallow me whole.

"A date!? Oh! Um if Ford wants it to be a date..then yeah." I hear (Y/N) say into the phone.

"Excuse her! I am so sorry! I..is a date alright? Don't feel pressured to say yes at all! It is completely understandable if not." I cover my face with my free hand and quietly say into the speaker.

"I would love a date with you Ford..." I hear them speaking but after those 8 words leave their mouth I can't focus on anything else but my heart beating faster than it ever has. This can't be real. I am going on a date with them. An actual date. With the prettiest person to ever step foot into this town!? Oh stars what if I mess this up? I feel myself start to lose my mind to worries and anxiety. Tuning out everything except my own voice.

"Do I need to tell you the address again Fordsy?" I hear their laughter I have come to love so much, slowly bring me back into reality.

"Shoot! Um sorry yeah. Wait let me get a ink pen," I run around the kitchen finding something to write it down, "Okay continue please."

Writing down every number and word they say, brings this entire thing to reality. I am going on my first date ever. Do they know this is my first date? What do they even like? Where do I acquire flowers for a date?!

"So..tomorrow at 7?" A smile coats their voice so sweetly I can't help but smile back as if they can see it.

"Yes. Tomorrow at 7. I will..see you there!" With that we say our goodbyes and hang up. Finally a steady breath finds my lungs and fills them up.

"See!? Wasn't that hard Sixer. Just needed a push." Looking up I see my brother and my ma giving each other a high five. Rolling my eyes, I watch as ma goes to look for a suit that will fit me. Stan looks at me and tells me I can use his cologne that "all the ladies love it on me, surely it can help you". I can't help but smile a little. Silently thanking them for the help. I slowly walk to my room and find myself laying in the bed I have spent countless night dreaming. Dreaming of how I can ask them out, maybe the stars heard me? If I ever visit the stars, I will have to thank them. A big smile finds its way to my face. Maybe everything will be okay.

The next few hours are spent with Ford's eyes wide open. Imagining everything that could happen. Many thoughts circle the Young man's head. 'The possibility of this date going completely perfect is slim to none' , 'What do we do?' , 'I have to impress them. make them want to do this date thing again'. Ford slowly drifts off to sleep imagining the chances of this working out. Stan creeps into the room and smiles at the twin asleep cuddling against a pillow. A smile on the older Pines brother, bigger than Stan has ever seen on the usual stoic and serious face.

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Ahh! Chapter 3! Sorry for the shorter chapter! Didn't want to put the date and the phone call all in one. Gotta stretch it out wink wink. I hope you all are as excited as I am for the date.

#stanford pines x reader #gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines #ford pines x reader #stanford x reader

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hockeyboysimagines · 1 year ago

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Work wife

A Vince Dunn blurb for @cellythefloshie. This is not in any way related to Fuck me like I’m famous. This is just a fun blurb we talked about brought to life.

Warnings: Sex, cheating

“There’s my work wife.”

You half turned to find Vince coming down the hallway smiling at you.

Working for the Kraken was a dream come true really.

You couldn’t actually ask for a better job, or better environment to be in. It was a tight knit group full of great people who worked hard, and got along well.

And then there was Vince.

You two had clicked from the beginning. He was easy to talk to, and you liked him a lot. The more time you spent together, the more you got to know him and the more comfortable you became with him.

Maybe too comfortable.

Which is how you wound up screaming his name one night after drinks, after the flirtation between you guys had finally boiled over and spilled into his apartment. It had been extremely awkward when you saw him on Monday, but when he caught you in the parking garage and asked to talk, you’d agreed. And that’s how it all started. Secret meetups, sneaking around, and even texts from a fake phone number, your assistant “Jessica”, to keep things under wraps. It felt both wrong, and exciting, but you just couldn’t stop. While it had started as a secret hookup, it hadn’t stayed that way. There was genuine feelings there now.

The term “work wife” had started as a joke, thrown out by a coworker of yours, who obviously had no clue what was happening behind closed doors, but it stuck. There was really only one problem with it.

You were someone’s real life wife.

The idea of Vince made your husband clearly uncomfortable in the beginning, before anything was actually going on, but there wasn’t really anything you could do about it, and you didn’t really want to either. Your husband was a good guy, but being around Vince made you realize you really didn’t have a thing in common. He was 8 years older than you, and you had married young, feeling the pressure from your family to marry someone who was financially stable. You “loved” him, but you weren’t really “In love” with him, at least not anymore. Not that you were in love with Vince either, but your feelings for him had drowned out the feelings for your husband. And beyond that, you had suspicions that he was embroiled in his own case of infidelity.

You felt really bad at first, but then he started staying late, random business trips with no warning, and you’d even found a receipt for purchased jewelry that you hadn’t received just last month. He often smelled of perfume and the lipstick you’d found on the inside of one of his shirts was a color you’d never worn. You hadn’t confronted him because you just didn’t care, and truly you had no room to talk.

It was a rock and a hard place situation that you’d landed yourself in, but the thrill of it all overrode the anxiety of being found out.

Not only would you lose your job, your respect in the work place, and your marriage, but it would also put a black mark on your career moving forward and make Vince look bad, none of which you wanted.

He made his way past you and winked, but then paused at the end of the hallway, just below a camera so he couldn’t be seen, and motioned for you to check your phone. You absently pulled out your phone, turning away from him so it looked like you just happened to get a message.

Meet me in the room.

“The room” as he called it was a vacant room in the basement of the arena that was used mostly for storage, and sat in the middle of a hallway that was void of cameras. It wasn’t ideal, but sometimes there was no other choice. There was few places you could go with him that he wasn’t recognized here, so you were limited to the room, his apartment and your place only if your husband was on a business trip out of state and even then it was risky.

You took the long way, careful not to rush, giving small glances here and there to make sure that no one was following you, and slipped into the hallway that your office was located, which conveniently also led the the hallway he was waiting for you in.

You made you way down the corridor, a set of stairs and then down to the vacant room. He was leaned against the wall, eyes moving up your bare legs and you neared him.

“Hi wifey.” He said smiling cheekily as he held the door open for you, allowing you to step inside before following you in. You gave a little shudder as the room grew dark when the door closed and you felt his hands on your waist.

“You look nice today.” He said in your ear, turning you to face him. Goddamnit he was gorgeous, even more up close. In curiosity you had done a google search of him right after you’d started working there and saw that everyone else thought that too, not to your surprise, but you were lucky enough to see all his body parts up close and personal and you felt bad for the people who didn’t get to.

“You say that to me everyday.” You ran a hand up his arm as he reached forward to press his lips against your neck.

“Well then I guess it’s true.” He said softly, hand gripping your chin as he pulled his mouth off your neck and caught your lips a very hot, wet kiss.

You felt a heat start to spread in your stomach as he backed you up against a table, tongue pushing in your mouth, cutting off your air. The way he moved his tongue against yours made your heart race, fingers gripping at your blouse, which was tucked into a pencil skirt, and pulling it loose so he could unbutton it, and hoisted you up to sit on the edge of the table. His hands, slightly rough against your skin as he reached the bottom button and ran his hands up your waist, pausing at your bra and pulling away from you.

“Is this new?” He asked breathlessly gesturing at your bra.

You nodded and watched as he reached a hand forward and ran a finger across your collarbone, down your chest to your sternum, hooking a finger in the front band and running it along your ribs.

“I bought it just for you. It matches these.” You gestured down and inched your skirt up to reveal black underwear. He smiled slowly eyes staying on them for a second before they moved back up to yours and he smiled.

“Can’t wait to take them off.” He reached down hooking a thumb on either side of them and gave them a tug, pulling them down your legs, hand coming back up your legs to pull one up underneath your knee, and to spread the other one wider, leaning you back as he eased himself into you.

Your head fell back, hair spilling off your shoulders as he pulled out and pushed back in. You felt a hand on the back of your neck as Vince pulled you up to kiss him, pushing in and out finding a rhythm. You caught his lip between your teeth, and he gave your hair a small tug, goosebumps erupting across your skin. It truly never got old feeling him inside you and his hands all over you. He brought you to highs you’d never been at before and each time was better than the one before.

He angled his hips upward and hit a spot you didn’t know existed and you cried out, biting down on your lip to stop from making too much noise. A curl at the front of his hair fell across his forehead as he picked up his pace. Your lower back was screaming in pain as it hit repeatedly on the table and you felt your legs begin to tighten and heat explode in your stomach as a crippling orgasm swept from your lower half to your upper half, Vince’s lips at your neck as it shuddered through your body and your vision went spotty. You gave a shaky breath as he slowed his pushes and let his head fall forward, breath hot on your neck. After a moment he picked his head up to look at you.

“You’re amazing.”

You blushed and pushed the curl off his forehead, as he helped you down and handed you your underwear. You gingerly pulled them back up, and took several deep breaths attempting to cool yourself down.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asked reaching a hand out to intertwine his fingers with yours “Come over after work for a little bit. What time does he get home?”

“6:30. I guess I could for a little bit.”

“Great.” He smiled widely and gave you one last short and sweet kiss before he left the room, making his way back to wherever he was planning to go and you made your way to your office, now tasked with spending the next three hours at your desk having to think about him, and what you would be getting into with him later on.

You sometimes wondered if keeping this thing you had going with him was for the worst rather than the better. How bad would it hurt to rip off the bandaid when it inevitably went south, or had to end due to whatever reasons. And what would happen if he met someone else?

Would you be cast aside? Replaced? A side piece?

You couldn’t handle that. And it wouldn’t be fair, which you knew because it wasn’t fair to him that he was currently a side piece. He didn’t seem bothered, or he was a great actor because he never spoke up about it when you asked and even managed to crack a joke about it here and there for your benefit. But it still wasn’t right. And it wouldn’t be right to drag this out knowing he should have the right to go out and meet girls without having to wonder what would happen with you and him.

You got so absorbed thinking about it, you lost track of time and nearly ended up staying past your clock out time, rushing to get out of the arena and over to Vince’s. He greeted you with his usual “wifey” at the door and pulled you inside.

After your second romp of the day, your breath evened out, you checked your phone and sighed. You pursed your lips and glanced at him.

He shook his head “Don’t say it-“

“Time to go.” you said quietly, sitting upright and grabbing your bra and blouse. You heard him sigh behind you and lean back against the headboard. It was quiet for a while as you hooked the clasp, and pulled the blouse over your shoulders. You hated this part. The afterglow wasn’t even over and you had to leave, go home and play housewife to someone you barely even had conversation with day to day. You’d not been intimate with each other in over a year, since you’d started working for the Kraken, because you were both getting it somewhere else. It felt silly to continue to live a lie.

“I think you should leave your husband.” Vince said off handedly from behind you.

You paused and turned slowly “What?” You said eyes moving up to meet his as you buttoned your blouse.

“You heard me.” He said from his spot on the bed “I said I want you to leave your husband.” He was looking at you straight faced, serious and not joking. He’d made lots of “leave your husband” jokes over the last few months, but he wasn’t kidding this time.

You gaped at him “I-Why?”

“Please.” He rolled his eyes “I think it’s pretty self explanatory. I mean if you really loved him would you even be here?” He gestured around.

He wasn’t wrong. You’d been going over this in your head for months, and you’d come to the conclusion that your husband just wasn’t it.

“Even if I would….Id have to quit for this to go any further.”

Vince pursed his lips “I mean. I can’t ask you to do that, but I do know that you should leave him. And I think you know that too.” He added quietly “I mean even without me in the picture, it wouldn’t be any different.”

He was right.

Part of why you took the job with the Kraken was to fill your time and pull yourself out of being a housewife and hanging out with all his business buddies perfect wives. Working with the Kraken gave you the freedom to do your own thing and be whoever you wanted to be, rather than locked up in that condo.

You nodded “Your right. But what about my job? I can’t be with you and work here.”

“Let’s worry about that another time. I can help you with this.” He reached forward and gripped your hand “I just really want you to be happy.”

You were quiet for a minute, eyes focused on the bedsheet as you realized this could be your one chance to get out of the mess you were in. Your one opportunity to truly change the direction of your life. Maybe things never went forward with Vince, but maybe they did. Even if they didn’t, he had given you the confidence to make changes and leave a guy you didn’t even love, and for that you would always be thankful.

“Well?” He asked after a few moments of silence.

You looked up and took a deep breath “Do you promise? To help me?”

He nodded eyes lighting up “Yes. So are we really doing this?” He looked so hopeful, leaned forward, eyes bright. It was actually making your heart hurt how beautiful he was at that moment.

You nodded “I think- I think so.”

He smiled the most beautiful, breath taking smile you’d ever seen on him, which you didn’t think was possible because they were all beautiful, but this one was different.

“This is going to change your life I promise you. I’m going to change your life. For the better.”

“You already have.”

He pulled you right back down, kissing you like he never had as you became a tangle mess of limbs and clothes and you felt like things would get better for the first time in a long time.

Maybe being a work wife wasn’t so bad.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

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Summer Breeze 6

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You sleep sitting up. Aside from the stiffness in your muscles, your stomach is gurgling from the greasy meal. The night fraught with worry and restlessness leaves your head even more cloudy than before. It’s real, you know it, and yet you just don’t want to accept it.

The doctor comes after 8am. He checks your father’s vital and makes some notes on his chart. Andy asks about his condition as you can’t bring yourself to speak. He looks ragged and tired, you must not come off any better.

“We’ll have to wait until he’s stable to make any further determination. We’ll need to test his cognizance along with his physical capabilities. The injury like has caused a TBI, meaning the effects will vary. He’ll need to be monitored well beyond his time here,” the doctor explains as Andy listens intently. You cling to every word but your mind is reeling. “Best to discuss what sort of therapies would be covered by insurance.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Andy says, “thanks, doctor.”

“Of course. You did a good job getting him here quickly,” the man in the white coat pauses and sends you definitive look, “keeping pressure on him. You both saved his life.”

Your eyes sting and your nose burns. You can't cry. Not yet. Once you crack, you know that’s it. You won’t be able to stop. Your cheeks tug and you thank him, swallowing down the swell of horror.

“Andy,” you eke out as the doctor leaves, “I couldn’t get through to my mom. Do you mind if I try again?”

“Hm, I haven’t charged my phone,” he slides his cell from his pocket, “I’m at twelve percent. Could do the trick.”

“Oh, maybe I could ask the nurse’s desk. I think I saw a patient phone around here.”

“Good idea,” he nods. “I texted Jacob but I don’t think he has service up there. We’ll need to go grab some clothes so how about we do that today?”

“I... I can’t leave my dad,” you insist.

“Sweetheart, they said he’s going to be out for some time.”

“He shouldn’t wake up alone,” you argue.

“Alright,” he shows his palm appeasingly, “I’ll drive up, grab your stuff, and we’ll get everything else sorted when I get back.”

“I can do this,” you avow, as much to yourself as him, “you’ve done enough.”

“Right, I know, you’re a strong girl. But what do you do next? Once you talk to mom. You gotta call insurance, right? Do you have what they need? You’ll need the plan number, that’s probably in his wallet, right? You’ll at least need proof of ID. We brought him in in his trunks and nothing else. All that’s up at the cottage,” he shakes his head, “I don’t doubt you can handle it but a little help can’t hurt.”

Your eyes widen and you sigh. You drag your hands down your cheek, “yeah...”

“You can’t think of it all right now. That’s expected. You should worry about him. So I’ll deal with the details.”

“Andy,” you utter, “I...” you look at your dad and get up, shuffling to his bedside. You take his hand, careful not to tug the tubes and tape, “I owe you.”

“It’s what people do for each other, right? I’m a dad too. I know if anything happened to me, Jacob would be lost.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah,” you crackle from your dry throat.

“Try to rest if you can,” he sniffs and scratches his beard, “I’ll be quick. As quick as possible.”

“Sure,” you squeeze your dad’s hand, barely hearing Andy. You just want him to wake up, or maybe you can wake up from this nightmare.

🌅

You force yourself out of the room to ask the nurse about a phone. She points you towards a worn phone down a few halls meant for emergency calls. You punch in your mom’s number and wait for it to dial. It takes six tries for her to answer but you won’t give up this time.

“Hey, what’s up?” She answers casually.

You don’t answer right away. You can hear the lightness in her voice and the rustle of unknown movement. She’s busy with something or someone. Probably her latest fling.

“Mom,” you scratch out, “it’s dad.”

“What is it now? Tell me he’s not drank himself into the tank again. He’s too old for that.”

“Mom,” you say firmer than before, “mom, he’s hurt.”

“Hurt. Well, call the paramedics, I don’t know,” she giggles and you sigh.

“We’re at the hospital,” you raise your voice, “he’s... he’s not awake. He hit his head. And I... I’m scared.”

She’s silent. You hear her move around and she excuses herself. A door clicks on her end and she scoffs, “well, what do you want me to do about it? He’s your father.”

You’re stunned by her callous response.

“And I’m your daughter,” you insist, “what... you should...” you shake your head and deflate. “Well, mom,” your voice cracks, “I’m sorry I interrupted fun for something so stupid as this.”

“Honey, please, I’m a bit shocked is all,” she squeaks, “I mean what can I do from so far away. For my ex-husband of all people? You’re an adult. You need to learn how to handle these things.”

“Gee, thanks, mom,” you sneer and slam the phone on the hook.

You don’t know why you expected any different. You’re not at her house because she told you plainly that she didn’t want you spoiling her fun. She gave up trying to be a parent the minute you turned eighteen.

You roll your eyes back against a new wave of tears; these one angry. You guess you just need to grow up. It’s your turn to take care of your dad.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #series #drabble #defending jacob #summer breeze

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moonseonghwa · 2 years ago

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Repetition - Choi San

part two to rewind

word count: 3k

warnings: soft dom!San, sub!reader, messy friends with benefits, unprotected sex (don't please), oral (m. receiving), orgasm denial? praising (lots of it)

ateez masterlist buy me a coffee?

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You waited in the cafe down the street, your fingers tapping on the dark brown wooden table subconsciously as you were listening to the bustling atmosphere. The coffee shop was just next to campus, making it a hotspot for students that were on the edge of their seats, studying for the midterms which were currently pressuring you just as much.

You, in contrast, were waiting for your best friend to show up. Already having ordered his iced americano, with a brownie on the side, you noticed the familiar grey coat through the window, before the man entered the cafe. He spotted you, waved, before walking to your table. He was dressed in light-washed jeans, a white t-shirt, and the grey coat he likes the most. The grey coat you chose for him went you went shopping together.

You smiled at him, closing your laptop as he sat down. “Hey” He said, giving you a high five.

“How was the exam?” You asked, pushing your laptop into your bag before leaning your head on your hands, giving him full attention.

“Awful, think I failed this one” He pouted, smiling after he took a sip of his coffee. “This coffee is good, how come we’ve never been here before?”

You and San usually go to another spot to drink coffee together. You live with him, but with both of your busy schedules you don’t actually see him that much, so you both agreed to do something together. He called it ‘quality time with my favourite person’ and you wondered if he really meant the words.

San was a person that didn’t enjoy change too much, in contrast to his late-night rendezvous which did change every time. You’ve known him for a long time, but he still remains a mystery to you. A person that says A then follows his words with an action that screams B. You don’t mind though, you like figuring it all out. Figuring all of him out.

And in contrast to the man sitting in front of you, you loved change.

“Just saw this place yesterday, I believe it opened last week”

He hummed. “How’s the assignment?”

“A mess, I could’ve just handed in something blank” You sighed, falling back against your chair.

“We’re both doomed then” He chuckled, making you smile at the dimples showing on his cheeks.

You two actually hadn’t talked about what happened after that day, not knowing how to initiate another action, probably too scared to give in to the tension. You sometimes go back to that night in your head, imagining the feeling of his fingers on your skin and his lips on yours, wishing he was with you when you couldn’t get yourself to feel that amount of pleasure again.

You did notice that San hadn’t brought another girl to your apartment, either he stopped bringing them, or you just didn’t notice when he did.

“Y/n?” You were pulled out of your thoughts.

“Hm?”

“I asked if you want to head back to the apartment to study in there, I didn’t bring my laptop.” He said, emptying the cup after you nodded, feeling your cheeks burn at your thoughts.

Back at the apartment, you made yourself tea first.

It has been raining for the past week, and the apartment was toned dark and cozy now. San bought scented candles, and he lit them up immediately after you got back. He loved scents, which was evident in the kinds of colognes he owned, each with its own vibe. Each matches an aspect of his personality.

With the tea ready, you placed one glass on the coffee table for San, him thanking you before you sat down on the couch, burying yourself in blankets as he sat on the floor in front of you, typing away one of his own assignments.

You were too exhausted to study, so you spend your time watching a drama on your phone. With the number of blankets on, you still felt your body freezing, so you got up, heading towards the bathroom to take a hot shower.

‘’Where are you going?’’ He said, already missing your presence close to him.

‘’Shower’’ You said, closing the bathroom door behind you after you got some clothes out of your room.

You sighed when the warm water hit your tense muscles, turning the knob a bit hotter, making steam cloud the bathroom. It was the best feeling, a hot shower after a long cold day.

After a good thirty minutes in the shower — which you desperately needed, in your defense— you stepped out of the shower. The bathroom mirror was fogged as a result, and you brushed your teeth after blow-drying your hair (and the mirror, too).

With a fresh pair of clothes, you walked out of the bathroom, straight into your own room as you were ready to wind down for tonight. You and San had picked up dinner earlier on the way to the apartment, and with the clock hitting 8 p.m you started finishing up some assignments in your bed.

A few hours later, you felt yourself grow hungry though. So you peeled off the blanket, making your way to the kitchen. San wasn’t in the living room, probably asleep as he needed it for the exams tomorrow.

You made yourself cereal, eating it while leaning on the counter as you scrolled on your phone, before hearing San’s door open. You looked at him, hair messy and pajama pants on.

‘’We meet again’’ You chuckle at his comment, taking another bite of your cereal. You tried to hide how your mind flashed back to that one night, and what happened in particular.

‘’Hungry too?’’ You asked, turning your body around to face him as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

‘’Just thirsty’’ He said, eyes lingering on you a bit too long for you not to notice and you saw them drop to your lips for a few seconds before he put on a smile and started walking away.

You hummed in response, going back to your finishing your food when you heard him enter his room again.

Back in your room, you couldn’t help but think about him again. He looked extra good tonight, and you felt yourself grow needy for his touch.

And as if he felt your pull, you hear a knock on your door. ‘’San?’’ You asked, surprised at him entering.

‘’Can I join you?’’ He asked, making your eyes widen as you struggled to speak. You kept quiet for a bit, feeling as if minutes were going by before you uttered out the words.

‘’Yeah, sure’’

He smiled at you, getting in bed as he took your form in his arm. He was warm, you wondered if he ever felt cold with his body temperature.

You were a bit shocked, wondering where the change of feelings came from. ‘’You okay?’’

‘’Yeah, just needed this’’ He placed a kiss on your neck, lingering his lips on the spot a bit longer. Your breath hitched, feeling your body on fire as his hands were on your skin. You sighed, pulling him closer. You pulled the blanket over him so he was covered too, as his lips were pressed against your neck.

‘’Have you been…thinking about it?’’ Your voice was barely above a whisper, as you felt him smile in your neck.

‘’About what?’’ He teased.

‘’You know, the other night’’

There was no way he didn’t, with the way he lingered around you the past days, almost not leaving your side whenever you were together with him.

‘’I think about it more than friends should’’ He replies, towering over you as he held your chin in his palm. ‘’Late at night, when I figure you’re already asleep, or even in class when I get a text from you’’

His lips ghosted over yours, brushing against them but keeping enough distance so you weren’t able to kiss him. His other hand was around your waist, slowly bringing your bodies closer to each other. You could feel him growing against you, making you sigh as your eyes fluttered close.

‘’What do you think about’’ You asked, breathing heavily.

‘’The way your skin feels against mine’’ He started, his fingers brushing down to your lower back. ‘’The way you clench around me when you’re about to come, and what it’ll be like when I can have you shake under my touch again’’

‘’Do you think about it, baby? Does it get you off?’’ He added, a teasing smile on his face.

You shook your head no. ‘’Only you can get me off’’ You said, looking in his eyes to see them darken.

‘’Yeah? Only me?’’ He whispered against your lips, ‘’You’re mine, then, right?’’ He placed a peck on your lips, and you almost moaned because of his words.

‘’Say it, baby’’

‘’Yes, all yours’’ You whined, not able to lean in more because of his fingers holding your chin back. ‘’Please kiss me, San-’’

He pressed his lips against yours, hard. The grip on your waist kept you steady as he devoured your lips as if there was no next time. You were only wearing a t-shirt and panties, so it was easy for him to open up your legs, settling between them as he slowly started grinding into you

His hand went between your legs in no time, opening them up and humming in delight when he felt how wet you were. Without a warning, he pulled down your panties, taking them off you easily.

His finger gathered the wetness before moving to your clit, stimulating there as you moaned into his mouth, struggling to focus on kissing him as you was making you feel so good already. The pent-up sexual frustration finally seemed to settle down, making it feel so so good.

You pulled down his sweats and underwear before your hand wrapped around his erection, jerking him off lazily as he breathed out a sigh against your mouth. You noticed how much your touch affected him, wanting to hear more of it as you slowly pushed him backward, noticing his surprised face at your sudden moves.

‘’What are you doing?’’ He asked.

‘’Want to taste you’’

You got down on your knees, making him shift in position so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Holding his thighs, before tracing your hand over the tattoo right above his knee your head went up to his tip, teasing slowly with kitten licks as he threw his head back.

One of his hands went to the back of your head, the other one behind him on the bed as he moaned out at the contact.

He was painfully hard, just looking at you on your knees for him, ready to take him as your mouth wrapped around his length.

‘’Good girl, fuck, just like that’’ He praised as you started bobbing your head up and down, taking him as far as you could without gagging. He was big, so it was hard not to.

You twirled your tongue around the tip, igniting a low groan from him that went straight to your core, before wrapping your hand around the part your mouth couldn’t get to.

He held your head steady as he slowly bucked into your mouth, mumbling a quick apology.

You looked up at him, and he swore he almost came on the spot when you swallowed around him while making eye contact.

‘’Fuck, don’t do that or I’ll come’’ He grunted, trying to keep composure as you tried your best to take more little by little.

‘’Come in my mouth, need to taste you’’ You said before focusing on his tip with your mouth as your hand did its work on the rest of his length. He looked so good, all fucked out because of your mouth, his wet hair falling on his head after he ran a hand through it.

You took him once again, tip hitting the back of your throat as you slightly gagged around him, making you moan out as he felt the vibrations. ‘’Y/n, ah, gonna come’’

‘’You sure I can come in your mouth?’’ The need for consent made your heart warm as you hummed around him, spurring him on even more before his breathing intensified, whimpers leaving his mouth as he shot his load down your throat, moaning in bliss.

You swallowed all of it, making him lean down as he placed a lustful kiss on your mouth.

‘’You did so well, hm?’’ He praised, before helping you get up.

You kissed him again, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you sat on his lap. He hummed in delight, before swiftly shifting you two, sitting back with his back against the headboard as his hand fell on your ass, pulling it back as his tip teased your entrance.

‘’You want me now, huh?’’ He said, making you whine out a yes as you pushed your hips forward. ‘’Yeah? My good little girl wants a reward?’’ He massaged your ass, grinding your folds against his length as you were even able to get off like this.

You didn’t expect him to enter you so quickly though, feeling all of him inside you as he stretched you out. ‘’Answer me’’

‘’Yes, Sannie, please’’ You moaned, grinding against him as you felt him slowly move inside you, making your head fall back at the overwhelming pleasure.

He pushed you deeper into him, holding your waist steady as he started thrusting up from beneath you. He was insane, it made you crazy. His hand went up to your cheek, thumb placed against your lip before pushing it inside your mouth, making you moan as you looked into his eyes, taken over by pleasure.

He kept the pace, speeding up a bit when your moans got louder, igniting you got closer to the edge. He pulled the thumb out of your mouth, making you drop your head on his shoulder when he used it to rub slow circles on your clit.

He ground into you slower, the pace making you feel him everywhere. He kissed you, pushing in his tongue, silencing your moans as you could feel your high approaching.

‘’Hold it’’ He ordered, making you bite your lip as you struggled to.

‘’I can’t’’ You whimpered, not able to stop the pleasure, and you felt the high dangerously approaching, trying to focus on holding it back but failing miserably.

He stopped moving, feeling you clench more and more as it let him know you were almost too close, leaving you whining as he pulled out of you before turning you around, placing you on the bed and placing your lips on his. He kissed you intensely, before slipping inside again and continuing the circles on your clit.

‘’Ah- San, please let me-‘’ You weren’t able to finish the sentence, too consumed by the pleasure.

‘’Come’’ He simply said, snapping his hips into you faster as you let out a string of moans of his name. The pace was brutal, but delicious as it was exactly what you needed right now, to let him fuck the stress out of you.

You let the pleasure take over, finally able to release as he stilled inside of you, grinding you through your orgasm as he kissed your throat. With a few more snaps of his hips, combined with the clenching you did around him and the beautiful moans of yours filling his ears, he came deep inside of you, painting your walls white with his come.

Your breaths were heavy, coming back from the extreme high you just had. San pulled you closer, placing a kiss on your lips as he smiled against them. Your heart swelled at his soft touch, stroking your sides in an attempt to soothe your sore skin.

‘’You did so good’’ He said, placing another kiss on your cheek, making you blush as you hid your face in his neck. Skin-to-skin like this felt like you were lovers, two people who shared this kind of intimacy to another level.

He pulled out of you a few minutes later, making you wince. He left the room, and your eyes were fighting to stay open. When he came back, you had failed, flinching at the feeling of a wet towel between your thighs.

‘’Just cleaning you up’’ He said, before walking back to throw the towel in the laundry.

‘’Wanna sleep in my bed? We should change these sheets tomorrow’’ He chuckled, making you nod with a smile on your face as he pulled you up in his arms, carrying you to his room before handing you one of his shirts to wear, just like you always did.

He crawled in beside you after he put on fresh boxers, before pulling you close to his warm body.

And you hated it, but you could feel yourself leaning into him more and more, every day you spent with him. He was your best friend and someone who knew you best, so you just hoped that this whole situationship wouldn’t affect your feelings towards him enough that it would eventually hurt you or him.

But maybe it was already too late for that.

@atxxzist surprise🤭

#ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez angst #san fanfic #choi san fluff #choi san #ateez san #san #san smut #san angst #ateez fanfic #san x reader #san fluff #san imagine #choi san smut

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starmocha · 2 months ago

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Affinity 94 Phone Call — As You Wish

This entire phone call was so good, so I recorded the whole thing rather than try to pick a few moments.

Just...Sylus instinctively sensing something wrong from a social media post and calling to check in...and genuinely wanting to listen and comfort.

MC's feelings here are coinciding with how I've been feeling lately. I've been feeling like I'm heading into another depressive episode, so when I was listening to Sylus...I started crying IRL, because it felt like he was validating my own feelings instead of making me feel forced to bottle it up so others don't feel uncomfortable.

"I don't want to be my best self." — this hits so hard. I've been at this low point before, and it's such an isolating feeling when no one understands you and even villainize you for feelings beyond your control, so you just learn to keep things locked up and it festers horribly.

To hear Sylus say, "Give yourself a vacation" is...refreshing? It's almost like saying...you're allowed to rest. It's alright if you need to step back from everything. Find time for yourself.

"Rest if you're tired. Cry if you're sad." — the latter is what I needed to hear the most, because growing up with depression and anxiety, the number of times when I've had breakdowns, I was told to stop crying did more damage than good for my mental health. I love that he doesn't see crying as a weakness, a flaw, a hindrance, a discomfort for others, but rather, it's a necessity to help you heal.

Sylus basically saying, "Do what you need to do to make yourself feel better. I'll stay by your side." 🥺

Sylus being our ride or die ❤️‍🔥

"I'll run away with you." 🥺💞

He's not pressuring you to speak when you're not ready. He would rather you tell him yourself when you're comfortable instead of him prying.

Just...him validating your feelings, your frustration, your anger and sadness.

His voice is so soothing throughout, but especially in certain parts when he's comforting you. It felt like a warm embrace and a gentle kiss.

Group crying session - who's joining me 😭🫂❤️‍🩹

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #videos #x — faves ☆彡 #how can i inject a phone call into my veins #asking for me #it's me #i want this engraved into my soul #🥺#god pls just let me ✨️manifest✨️ this kind of love and support #😔🙏

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trippinsorrows · 21 days ago

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dreamland: leya's struggles

authors note: this is super short and not anything major. literally wrote this in like half an hour. i could expound on it if people are interested. just wanted to give some insight to what it was like for roso and leya dealing with her ocd when she was younger.

only gonna tag a few people. if i end up expounding on it, i'll tag my usual "everyone" list.

words: 800

masterlist

warnings: angst, depiction of ocd in children

The sound of horns honking startles both Leya and Tama, the latter of which starts to stir in his car seat, single handedly exacerbating an already nightmare of a situation.

“Hurry up!”

It’s a single voice that’s followed up with several others, all expressing the same level of pressure and rudeness.

Solana is seconds away from marching over to the woman directly behind the suv behind her car when Tama’s soft, sleepy voice serves as a deterrent. “Mama, I wanna go home….”

A shared sentiment, one that makes most sense for him, as he’d either be back in bed by now or cuddled on the sofa with her while he takes a nap.

Obviously, that’s not an option.

“I know, baby,” she comforts. Solana does take a step back but instead of acting out of character, she directs her clear, unmistakable command to Jacob. “Shut them up.”

With a nod, Solana only catches his face shifting into that infamous scowl as he walks over to the cars lined up behind her, a line that has to be backed out into the street at this point.

With that handled, Solana moves back to the issue at hand.

Leya continues to cry, sniffling as her little chest moves up and down. Solana can see the tips of her fingers turning red from the repeated, forceful buckling and unbuckling of her seatbelt.

“Leya….” Solana’s voice breaks. As best as she’s doing to maintain her composure, it’s a slowly losing battle. “Baby, it’s okay. We can g—”

“No!” Leya cries, shaking her head, still not looking at Solana as the concerned mother continues to gently stroke her hair. “I gotta—I gotta do it right, mommy, or something bad will happen!”

“Cataleya, I promise you nothing bad is going to happen, baby.” A reassuring statement she’s had to have stated at least ten times now over the past almost half hour that’s passed since the start of Leya’s episode. “But, you have to get out the ca—”

“No!” Leya begins to cry harder, once again going to remove her seatbelt, counting to three with her fingers before doing it all over again. A repeated, consistent, obsessive act that’s led to the situation they’re in now. A situation Solana has no idea how to handle. This is the first time it’s ever been this bad.

“What’s wrong, Leya?” Tama asks in his sweet voice, worry filling his little face as he tries to comfort her. Unfortunately, that only does the opposite. Leya cries out and jerks her body away, swatting his helping hand, prompting his bottom lip to poke out as he too starts to cry.

“Leya, please don’t hit your brother.” It’s hard for Solana to be upset with or even scold her daughter, because she knows Leya can’t help it. Knows that it’s only because anyone else’s touch other than hers feels “wrong” to Leya, thus her reacting the way she did. “Tama, it’s okay, baby boy. Leya just doesn’t feel good.”

Solana is sure none of them are feeling good, especially herself, her hand moving to her small baby bump as a sudden wave of nausea washes over her.

God please, not right now.

Of all times, not now.

She just can’t handle this.

Solana moves to open the passenger door and reaches over to grab her cell phone out of the cupholder. Shaking, trembling hands move to Roman’s contact, as she too quickly hits the call button.

Three rings followed by a soft, feminime voice. “Mr. Reigns office, how can I—”

“Shit,” Solana curses and closes her eyes. She dialed his office number instead of his personal cell. “I’m sorry, Alicia, this is Solana. I need you to put me through with Roman.”

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Reigns,” she greets, voice kind but almost unsure. “Ummm—Mr. Reigns is in the middle of—”

“Alicia,” Solana doesn’t hesitate to interrupt. “Get my husband on this line now.”

The woman nervously clears her throat. “Of course.” A pause. “Just a minute.”

And it’s just about a full minute that passes when Solana hears her husband’s deep, baritone voice on the other end. “Solana? What’s wr—”

“I need you to meet me at the school,” she cuts in, emotion in her voice as her eyes start watering all over again. “I can’t—I can’t get Leya out the car. She’s—she’s stuck in a ritual, and I’ve got Tama, and he’s crying, and I can’t—I don’t know what to do.” Her voice breaks at the end, the overwhelming nature of it all finally trampling her

“Mommy, don’t cry,” Tama comforts, eyes focused on Solana from the backseat.

Solana is unsure if Roman can hear their five-year-old, because he’s doing the same, “baby, don’t cry. It’s okay.” It provides some solace but not as much as Solana knowing how to help her daughter could provide. “I’m on my way.”

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #arisnotebook

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sthavoc · 9 months ago

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watched ariana's new mv and was thinking maybe enzo angst where his ex writes the song + mv and he's trying to get into contact with her because he still loves her

࿔* 📞 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

·˚ ༘ pairing: desperate!enzo x singer!fem!reader

·˚ ༘ summary: after listening to your new song and watching the music video, Enzo attempts his best to reach out to you, but there’s no answer from you.

·˚ ༘ warnings: angst, man crying, desperation, heartbreak, feeling of anxiety.

·˚ ༘ note: I was watching the mv for the first time to get a vision and it touched my heart. imagine just being able to easily erase the memories of a person that you don’t want anymore with just a test? this one is sad for me… idk how I wrote this for enzo.. lloro

It was very clear to Enzo from the moment the relationship ended, that he would give you your space, but there would be a moment where he would try and fight for you. Didn’t matter if it took days, weeks, months, or years. The man would fight.

But his world crumbled after he listened to your new song, and watched the music video.

We can’t be friends.

The term the both of you had agreed to stay at least for the moment. Why did you change your mind? What made it different? And did you really feel like you couldn’t be your complete self around him?

Just thinking about all these questions had Enzo’s head spinning around, with nothing else in his apartment but the laptop in front of him, and your voice coming out of the small speakers. He felt the lump in his throat building with the tears up in his eyes.

He had at least replayed the video three times, going on the fourth. The last scene would hit him like a stone wall that would increase its strength after counting how many times he would come back to it. If it was possible and the naked eye could see, or even the ear could hear so very clearly the sound of his heart breaking, it would sound like a million mirrors smashing all at once. Nothing would be able to stop them apart from you.

The tear ran down his cheek, almost coming close to his lip. He was able to taste the saltiness. His knee trembled nonstop, up and down, with hands clasped in front and resting them on his knee. Debates after debates about whether he should call you or not. His phone was only next to his computer.

He shouldn’t. He shouldn't push your boundaries, but he just wanted to hear your voice and talk about the situation. So he picked up the phone and dialed your number. He let it ring. With his heart hanging on his hand and the feeling of the anxiety of not knowing if you would pick up or not.

And yeah, no answer.

“Please leave your voice message—” voicemail.

Should he leave a voicemail? Or call again? He would call again. If you don’t pick up he’ll leave a voicemail. And so he did, but no answer. Only this time it didn’t even ring. His call was sent straight to voicemail.

“Ehm, hola bonita. Escuché tu nueva canción y quería decir que está muy buena, y el— el vídeo también.” He could feel the swelling growing again, making it hard for him to speak, and swallow. “Solo quería saber si podías hablar por unos minutos pero me imagino que estás ocupada.” He bit his upper lip in an attempt to not let the tears fall, but even as soon as his eyes closed, his lashes let go of the tears. “Regrésame la llamada cuando puedas. ¿Sí?— te quiero… chau.” He pressed the red button.

Sobs were being mixed with your voice singing in the background, and Enzo sitting back down on his couch. The palms of his hands were placed on his eyes as he forced them back trying to stop the tears. That even when he opened his eyes he was seeing stars from the pressure he had added. But there was nothing, nothing could stop them.

He let the minutes pass, and the sniffles continued, with a constant check-up on his phone and still no answer from you. He grabbed his phone from the coffee table again, going into your contact. The photo he had taken of you lying down in bed with his shirt on had remained his contact photo. He didn’t have the guts to change it or even the contact name he had you under. He still had you as ‘mi chiquita’.

He dialed your number for the third time after what had been almost an hour now. He hoped this time you would pick up. But to his luck, it sent him to voicemail, again. This made it no different.

“Nena, por favor… devolmeme la llamada. Se que no queres hablar conmigo pero solo quiero que me expliques si todo lo que decís en esa canción es verdad.” He didn’t even take a moment to breathe as he spoke into the line. “Me estoy volviendo loco. Dejame arreglarlo, sea lo que sea, dame una oportunidad para cambiar las cosas. Te lo ruego.” His fingers gripped the strands of his dark hair. Knuckles were turning white from the lack of blood that dispersed around it.

He stared at his laptop that had other videos of you plastered on the screen and your icon photo on the corner. “Quisiera poder haberme dado cuenta de todo esto cuando estábamos juntos. Tal ves, hubiera sido diferente— las cosas hubieran sido diferentes.” There was a pause in his sentence, but when he was about to start talking again his voicemail cut off. Saying the limit had been reached.

Great.

Enzo felt as if he had let you down. Even now, through the whole relationship. He wanted to fight for your love, but it wasn’t up to him anymore. It was you. You had the final word.

But if your answer was to ever be the opposite of yes, Enzo wouldn't know what he would do with himself.

Either way, something inside him told him he had lost you, that he had to give it up because there was nothing he could do that would get you back.

“El día de nuestra luna de miel, te voy a llevar al mar, y te mostraré, que la forma en la que las olas chocan contra la orilla, es la forma en cómo el amor que siento por vos choca contra todo dentro mí, derrumbándome ante tu disposición.”

Guess that day will never come.

#enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic blurb #enzo vogrincic fic #enzo vogrincic imagine #enzo vogrincic one shot #enzo vogrincic x you

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