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casiia · 1 year ago

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༉‧₊˚. — simon 'GHOST' riley; newlyweds.

warnings .: x reader, smut, mdni 18+, afab! reader, v! penetration, heavily unedited

.: masterlist.

simon was not thrilled when you told him you didn’t want to sleep with him before the wedding, something about it being “bad luck”. at first he didn’t understand but he was willing to oblige, sleeping in the guest room didn’t sound too bad; although he didn’t like the idea of sleeping in a cold bed while you were just a room away — but fighting with you was never a battle he won.

except, when you clarified that you didn’t want to ‘fuck’ before your wedding, he was not having it. he couldn’t stop the baffled laugh that slipped from his lips. it didn’t make sense, you weren’t a virgin; he had the pleasure of stuffing you full of his cock many times while dating. to say he was confused was an understatement.

but, what the bride wants, the bride gets. so weeks go by where simon has to take care of his growing problem by himself; just to tease you, and hopefully make you regret your decision, he’ll get off in bed, right before you go to sleep.

simon will have you watch the way he tugs at his cock with need, his head tilted back with grunts and an uneven breath. his chest heaving as thick ropes of his cum spurt onto his exposed abdomen. he’ll give you a sly smirk before climbing out of bed, his boxers tugged up but hanging too low revealing his v-line.

it takes everything in you to stick to your word, watch every night as simon adds the lewd task into his daily routine. eventually, he’s the one that breaks, the way he stumbles into your shared bedroom and finds you with a hand between your thighs – his name spewing from your lips when you catch sight of him.

he wishes he could say ‘i told you so’ when you’re begging for him, needing to relieve the ache that’s been dwelling in your tummy for so long. he takes one look at your sopping cunt and wonders how long you’ve been trying to stuff your fingers inside of you knowing that they couldn’t reach that gummy spot only he could.

simon shakes his head with a chuckle, taking his time to settle himself between your legs. he kisses your knees, hiking them over his shoulder and winding his arms around your thighs to keep you still. with his thumbs, he’s spreading your folds – a teasing tut and tilt of the head are all you need from him to know that he’ll never let you hear the end of it.

he has to swallow a groan, hard eyes glued to your leaking hole. your juices dribbling from your cunt and dripping onto the bedsheets. “you sure you wanna keep up with your stupid idea? i can make you feel good, take care of you the way you need.” simon asks, almost begging for you to quit being stubborn this once and let him relieve you – to let him fuck you stupid so he can spill his cum deep inside of you instead of wasting it and wiping it off of his chest with a towel.

he just wants to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him, hear your moans as his fat tip nudges against that one spot that makes your walls flutter around his cock. simon’s rutting his hips into the mattress, too lost in his lewd thoughts to hear you reject his suggestion. when he does he’s dropping his head with a low growl.

he never thought he would hate your friends, but he could kill the person who told you about this stupid suspicion. simon is a good boyfriend, he’ll show you how good of a husband he will be too. reluctantly accommodating to your wishes, he stuffs his fingers inside of you instead of his throbbing cock.

oddly enough, he finds himself loving this more. the way your slick coats his hand – his engagement ring. simon is moaning at the sight, his simple soon-to-be wedding band glistening in the dim light as he finger fucks your tight hole.

“aw, honey. s’too much?” he coos, curling his fingers inside of you and pressing his thumb to your clit. he nips at the inside of your thigh and grins at the way your legs tremble, your back arched off the mattress. with his free hand he wraps it around your wrist, squeezing it lightly so you’d loosen your tight grip on the bedsheets below. intertwining your fingers with his, he works you up to another orgasm, talking you through it.

“just like that, baby.” “cum all over my fingers, soak this pretty lil’ ring.”

as much as he enjoys fingering you with his ring on, he loves it when you take a bit of control and take care of him the same way. rubbing over his clothed erection with your left hand, the big diamond on your engagement band looking small next to his sore, hard cock.

simon’s eyes flutter when you squeeze his shaft, precum leaking from his slit and slowly dribbling over your fingers – over your ring, coating the big diamond. he’ll guide your hand up and down his shaft urging you to go quicker, he loves the way your soft hands feel compared to his calloused ones.

he’s bucking his hips upwards into your hand, his head tilted back while he’s whining desperately. simon normally keeps his noises under control but he hasn’t felt your touch in so long.

“fuck, a-ah. can’t wait to marry you and fuck you right.”

his breath hitches when you squeeze his angry red tip, the cool metal of your ring rubbing against his slit. with a deep groan he’s cumming all over your hand; watching with wide eyes, the way your fingers play with his hot, sticky cum.

after your wedding ceremony, simon drags the both of you into the bathroom. shamelessly, he’s bending you over the sink, unzipping his trousers, and hiking your wedding dress up.

“si, we can’t. people are waiting for us.” you squeal when he snaps the garter against your thigh, his rough hands squeezing your hips and pulling your thong down. simon only rolls his eyes, leaning down and spitting on your exposed pussy. he rubs his cock between your folds, using his spit as a lubricant.

“they can wait, m’gonna take care of my wife first.”

how could you say no, especially to your husband?

AN: i know nothing about weddings or marriage, but i heart hubby si

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tradgedyinwaves · 3 months ago

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First Choice - Part 4

Part Four of this Poly141! x fat!reader tw: social anxiety, self-doubt, drinking, more touchy-touchy, reader thinks about sexual acts

In celebration of 200 followers, this part has way more than 650 words. More like 1600. :)

Conversation flowed easily with them despite their sole focus being on you. At some point, Kyle’s hand had drifted onto your thigh, fingers pressing into the flesh gently. John’s arm had slipped from the back of the booth and now rested around your shoulders. You couldn’t be sure, but it seemed Johnny couldn’t keep his feet still and kept tapping yours under the table. The only one who couldn’t seem to relax was Ghost, sitting almost across from you.

His eyes never left you and he mainly seemed to communicate in grunts. At least, he was drinking this time, his glass now empty of his own whiskey. You were careful not to drink too much, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of these beautiful men. But it didn’t keep you from relaxing and feeling the warmth of the two next to you.

Pulling out your phone, you checked the time and groaned. “I really should be going. It’s been great,” you announce, looking to Kyle to move so you could slide out from the booth. “Aw come on. We’re having so much fun. Just a wee longer?” Johnny asks and you turn to him, finding yourself giving in almost immediately. Damn the puppy dog eyes.

“Only a bit longer,” you concede and relax back into the seat. This time when Kyle’s hand lands on your thigh, it’s higher and the heat is searing through your jeans. You let out a soft sound, biting your lip as his hand starts slowly caressing your thigh up and down. He’s not even looking at you when you look up, already deep in conversation with Johnny about some sports game you had no clue about.

John’s arm settled back over your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer so his hand hovers over your breast and you can feel the hair of his arm on your bare collarbone. Your breasts jiggle slightly with your laugh when Johnny makes a joke and you don’t miss the way his pupils dilate ever so slightly before darting back up to your face. He, at least, has the decency to blush, the faint pink color tinging his cheeks.

When the crowd in the bar starts to thin out and you realize even your friends have left for the night, you’re yawning in your seat and now leaned completely against John with his thick arm draped over your shoulders. Kyle’s hand is now tucked between your thick thighs, the side pressed as tightly to your core as he can get it and you hope to whatever higher powers that be that he couldn’t feel the radiating heat or the damp spot that had soaked into your panties.

“Okay, okay. I really do need to go now. My friends aren’t even here anymore and that’s saying something,” you chirp, suddenly very awake and aware that you’re in an almost empty bar with four men you’d only met that night. They all look at you like they’d rather eat sawdust than let you go and you feel a warmth creep over you.

“Ahw, bonnie, we couldn’t let you go home on your own. Let us take you home,” Johnny chimes in, soft smile and kind eyes that hold a hint of something else in them. You swallow, looking between each of them. Your gaze lingers on Ghost for a while, noticing the man’s eyes had almost never left you.

“Yeah, alright. Let’s go. It’s not a far walk,” you reply, biting your lip at the reckless decision. These men could be serial killers and you were just inviting them to know exactly where you live. “Why don’t you let Johnny and Ghost take you home? Kyle and I can follow in our truck so they’re not stuck walking back here,” John offers, a warm smile curling up the thick mustache.

At this point, you’re ready for bed and just want to get home. “Sounds good to me,” you reply though the words are manipulated by a yawn. All of you shuffle out of the round booth, both Kyle and John kissing the top of your head like they’d known you for years before disappearing out the door. You wrap your jacket around you again, pulling the zipper together over your belly and getting a little frustrated when it gets caught up on your shirt.

“Lemme,” Ghost grumbled, stepping up to you and taking hold of the jammed zipper. It’s the first time he’s spoken all night and it almost stuns you how deep and growly it is. Your breath hitches as he grabs the zipper, yanking on it and subsequently making your breasts bounce as he accidentally pushes against them. He gets it undone and you mutter a bashful ‘thanks’ before turning on your heel as you finish zipping it up to your throat.

You know they’re meant to be escorting you home, but you’re out the door so fast the two men have to jog to catch up. Johnny’s arm wraps around your waist, fingers pressing into the pudge of your stomach in a way that makes you want to shrivel up. You don’t like anyone touching your stomach, but you’re warring with yourself on whether or not to move his hand, to show that kind of discomfort in front of these men.

You choose to do so anyway, wrapping your fingers around his and lifting his arm up over your head and ducking under it, dropping it at his side. Johnny looks down at you with a furrowed brow. “Don’ like it when people touch you, do you?” he asks as he shoves his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t look bothered that you’d removed his arm, but your anxiety rears its ugly head and makes you worried you’d offended him.

“It’s not that I don’t like being touched. It-It’s…complicated. I-I don’t want to talk about it,” you manage to stammer out before picking up your speed. It’s not like you’re going to shake off your two guard dogs whose legs are easily longer than yours by several inches, but you take off anyways.

When your building finally comes into view, you slow your pace and breathe a soft sigh of relief. Your bed was so close, just a few more yards and you could get rid of the guard dogs and curl up in bed. “Well, this is me. Thanks for bringing me home. I really appreciate it.” You were grateful that they’d walked you home. It wasn’t safe this time of night to be wandering around in this part of town.

“We’re walking you to your door, bonnie. Wouldn’t want someone to snatch you up between here and there,” Johnny stated, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You wanted nothing more than to sink into the scent of him, warm and tingly to the nose like oranges and nutmeg, but you shook your head and backed up to the door of your building. “There’s really no need. My neighbors are great.” Lie. Absolute fucking lie. Nestor at the end of the hall on the first floor would, no questions asked, rip you from the hallway if he saw you alone. A chill went down your spine and you conceded the moment you looked into Ghost’s eyes. You didn’t have a choice if they were escorting you all the way up.

You turned and opened the door to the building, looking down the hall to make sure Nestor was in his apartment before slipping in and letting the boys in behind you. You headed to the elevator and punched the up arrow, biting your lip as you tried not to wither under the intense stare of the man in the mask. The elevator had been the selling point for you. It was the only place within your budget that had an elevator and you weren’t about to walk up five flights of stairs multiple times a day.

The lift dinged and you stepped inside, Ghost and Johnny slipping in behind you just to stand with their bodies pressed against your back. Unintentionally, you leaned into them before your eyes widened at your own movement and you straightened so your body pulled away slightly.

The doors dinged and opened allowing you to step out onto your floor. You headed to your unit, digging for your keys in your purse. With a ‘aha!’, you pulled them out and shoved the key into the doorknob, unlocking it. “Would you guys like to come in? I might have some whiskey left?” you offer, turning to look at them. You didn’t know why you were inviting them in, but the sense of safety you had around them had you desperate for them to stay.

“Sure, lemme text Price and Kyle where to come. Go on in, Si-Ghost. I’ll come in in a minute,” Johnny stated, already pulling his phone out and going to stand next to the window at the end of the hall. You opened the door and allowed Ghost in, leaving it unlocked so the others could join once they arrived.

Heading into your kitchen, you stood up on your tippy toes, reaching up so you could pull out five of your good glasses. You were looking for the last one, but it was just out of your reach. Suddenly, you felt what could only be Ghost against your back, pressing you against the counter as he leaned over you to grab the glass.

The heat of him against your back has your thighs clenching together while you watch his thick digits wrap around the glass and you wonder briefly what they’d feel like inside you. He takes a step back once he has the cup and holds it out to you.

You turn back to him while trying to fight off the blush coloring your cheeks. You murmur a thanks and wrap your own fingers around the glass.

Of course, that would be when the other three burst loudly through the door.

I wasn't intending for this to become a whole story, but it's really stuck with me over the last week or so.

<- Part Three Part Five ->

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sturniolospumpkin · 1 month ago

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matt’s — m.s. & c.s.

part three (part one // part two // part four)

pairings: rough!dom!matt x sub!reader x chris

summary: your boyfriend matt finds out that you and his brother chris hooked up behind his back.

warnings: this part is really intense & could be triggering, please read the warnings & PLEASE read at your discretion! MDNI. contains smut, unprotected sex (p in v), rough sex, mentions of pain, mentions of safeword, spanking, slapping, choking, degrading, name-calling (bitch, slut, whore), crying, angst, mean matt, some fluff

disclaimers: this is all fiction. obviously the triplets are not like this in real life, these are just fics i write out of boredom. please do not republish my work as your own, and please credit me if using my writing as inspo <3

days had passed since you last spoke to chris. you tried your best to not think about what had happened. you did everything in your power to act normal around matt, but you’re certain he had picked up on something being wrong. you were thankful that he hadn’t questioned you though, knowing you’d have to tell him the truth. you didn’t intentionally do something behind his back, but you knew that wouldn’t matter; he would be livid as soon as he found out, and that terrified you. you’d hoped chris would change his mind about telling matt. you’d done a decent job at avoiding him, until tonight when matt asked him to watch a movie with the two of you while nick was out.

chris, who had also been avoiding you and his brother for the past few days, sat silently on the opposite side of the couch. as time passed you grew more and more unnerved, and you were fairly certain he was staring at you. you finally shift your eyes over to where he’s seated, and your suspicions are confirmed, his gaze is fixed on you. it’s the first time you’ve looked him in the eye since that day, and your heart drops—he looks awful. the dark circles under his eyes are prominent and his skin is pale; you can tell he hasn’t been sleeping. he only stares, but the look in his eyes tells you everything—he can’t keep this from matt for much longer. you quickly shift your attention back to the movie, paranoia flooding your system. you’re breathing faster now, heavier. your heart is racing, and then you hear his voice.

“matt i need to tell you something.” chris shakily announces, your eyes darting to him immediately.

matt’s eyes remain on the tv in front of him as he responds to his brother, “yeah chris?”

you shake your head repeatedly, eyes locked on chris’s, but he only nods to you in response.

“y/n and i—” he lets out a shaky breath as he struggles to finish his sentence.

matt notices the pause in chris’s words, his gaze briefly moving to chris before returning to the tv. matt’s tone is almost humorous as he obliviously responds to chris, “you and y/n what?”

“chris” you plead, voice pulling matt’s full attention from the screen, now fully focused on the conversation.

his eyes move between the two of you, concern painting his face when he notices the look on yours.

“what’s wr—” matt starts before chris interrupts.

“y/n and i had sex.” chris confesses.

your stomach drops, nausea overtaking your body as time stills. you watch matt’s face twist into a confused smile before he responds to his brother.

“yeah i know chris, i watched.” matt chuckles, not understanding what chris means.

“no, i mean we had sex. just the two of us.” chris quietly explains, releasing a shaky sigh before continuing, “but it was my fault okay, i— i got carried away and she didn’t know—it’s not her fault—she thought you were okay with it because i kind of implied that you were…”

“what?” matt’s asks in disbelief, turning to you with an expression you can’t quite read, “is he fucking serious?”

your eyes drop to your lap as you nod your head, unable to speak. silence fills the room for what feels like hours until you finally find the strength to speak.

“matty i—” you begin before he cuts you off.

“get upstairs.” he snaps.

“what? but—” you start before he speaks over you again.

“get upstairs. go to my room. both of you.” his jaw clenched as his chest heaves.

scared to make the situation worse, you obey, getting up from the couch and making your way to matt’s room. chris follows behind, both of you standing in the center of the room as matt enters.

“take off your clothes. go sit on the bed.” matt nods to you.

“matt we should—” you begin, knowing you need to talk about the situation.

“i’m not asking. take off your fucking clothes & get on the bed y/n.” his gaze is piercing, jaw clenched tightly.

you nod, ridding yourself of your clothes before making your way to the bed. matt walks over to you, taking his shirt off before unbuckling his belt. he turns his attention to chris who is still standing awkwardly in the center of the room.

“chris go sit in the chair. don’t touch yourself.” he barks before turning his attention back to you.

chris hesitates, slowly making his way to the chair next to matt’s bed.

“all fours. face chris.” matt orders.

you quickly comply, not wanting to anger him any further. you position yourself on all fours on the bed, directly in front of chris. your eyes meet each other’s, filled with the same fearful look as you try to gauge matt’s next move. chris bites his lip nervously as he flicks his gaze to his brother.

matt enters you without warning, burying his dick to the hilt. you wince at the painful stretch of his sudden intrusion. he gives you no time to adjust before thrusting in and out of you, setting a brutal pace.

“matt—” you yelp, immediately cut off.

“shut up.” he grits, continuing his thrusts. your eyes are squeezed shut, body adjusting to the pain that soon turns into pleasure. chris’s eyes are trained on you, but you stare at the floor, avoiding his gaze.

“does chris make you feel this good?” matt asks, reinforcing his question with a particularly hard thrust.

you moan, hoping it will suffice as an answer. until you feel a sharp smack on your ass and know he isn’t accepting it, “answer me.”

“no.” your respond quietly, head dropping even more to avoid chris’s eyes.

“nuh uh” matt roughly grips you by your hair, pulling your head up. your eyes shut as you wince at his grip.

opening your eyes, you find yourself face to face with chris. his eyes are heavy, a mix of defeat and frustration painting his face as he stares back at you.

“speak up slut, we couldn’t hear you.” matt spits, “i said does chris make you feel this good?”

“no.” you answer louder this time, not wanting to be reprimanded again.

“no? i didn’t think so.” matt chuckles, “who makes you feel this good huh? who fucks you the best? go ahead and tell chris for me.”

“you matt.” you comply.

the look on chris’s face breaks your heart, you silently plead for him to look away so you don’t have to see the pain you’re causing him, but his broken eyes never leave yours.

“yeah, you want me to keep making you feel good?” matt taunts, his arm wrapping around your waist to play with your clit.

you let out an involuntary moan at the added stimulation, eyes squeezing shut as you nod your head hesitantly in response to his question. you know he’s going to torture you tonight for what you did. you also know you could use your safeword and he would stop, but you want to prove to him that you’re sorry. you want to regain his trust.

“beg for it then. look at chris and beg for me to keep fucking you.” matt spits.

chris’s eyes flash to his brother above you, jaw clenched in annoyance at his brother’s tormenting. you hesistate for a moment, not wanting to upset chris any further, but matt pulls you from your thoughts with a spank. a yelp leaves your lips.

“do it.” he demands.

chris’s gaze drops from his brother back to you. mouth shut, his tongue moves across his teeth to rest inside his cheek, a clear sign of his annoyance. knowing matt is expecting a response, you mouth a “sorry” to chris before speaking aloud.

“please matt” you beg, eyes locked on chris as tears of pleasure and sadness pool along your waterline.

“please what?” matt asks continuing the assault on your clit.

“please don’t stop.” you moan.

chris’s eyes refuse to leave yours. your heart stings with a feeling of embarrassment, sadness, guilt—maybe all three. you aren’t entirely sure, but whatever it is causes tears to spill down your cheeks.

“you can do better than that. bet you begged for chris much better than that huh?.” matt grumbles.

you shake your head as best you can under his grip, continuing to beg, “don’t stop please matty, please please please i need you.”

matt drops his hand from your clit, and you whine at the loss of contact. he scoffs at you before resuming his brutal pace, dick repeatedly ramming into your cervix. it’s the hardest he’s ever fucked you.

“you are mine. do you fucking understand that?” matt asks through gritted teeth as he slams into you again.

“yes.” you cry.

“i don’t think you do. because if you did, you wouldn’t have fucked my brother.” he retorts.

his hips still for a moment, hand releasing your hair when you hear him grab something off his nightstand. your eyes are trained on chris. his jaw is tight and cheeks are rosy as his chest heaves. he shifts in his seat and your eyes land on the growing tent in his pants. when did that happen? you think to yourself before you feel the cool tip of a marker drag across the skin of your left ass cheek—matt is writing on you. you can’t make out what he’s spelling, but you feel the marker move to the right side of your ass as he continues to drag it along your skin.

“there we go.” he mutters to himself.

he places the marker between his teeth as you turn your head in an attempt to see what he wrote, only to be met with a harsh slap. face burning, you turn back to chris when you suddenly feel both of matt’s palms collide against the fresh writing on either side of your ass. you hiss at the sting before he grips your waist tightly and flips you onto your back. grabbing the marker from it’s resting spot between his teeth, he begins writing on your pubic bone. you prop yourself up a bit on your elbows, watching as he drags the black marker across your skin. when he pulls his hand back, you finally get a glimpse of it, written sloppily in all caps: “MATT’S”. you let out a gasp, causing his gaze to shift from the writing to your eyes before he wraps his free hand around your throat and pins you back to the bed. with his free hand, he brings the marker up to your chest, repeating the same letters before capping the marker and tossing it across the room. he slams his dick back into you, resuming his relentless pace. the roughness of his thrusts is overwhelming and cries leave your throat as you try to not to think about it. a hard slap lands on your face, pulling you back to reality.

“do you understand now?” he snaps.

you quickly nod your head in response. he lifts his hand and you feel another slap hit your cheek, the familiar sting flooding your face once more, “no, speak. tell me you understand that you belong to me.”

“yes matty i understand— i’m yours, only yours.” you cry, still struggling to endure the bruising pace of his thrusts.

he pulls out unexpectedly, flipping you over on all fours before entering you again. he grips you by your hair again, pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest.

“mine. all mine. no one else’s.” he speaks into your ear, “i fucking own you, not chris. you understand that or you need me to write it on your fucking forehead too?”

“i understand matty, im so sorry.” tears spill from your eyes again as the pain of his actions and words become too much.

“oh are you? you’re sorry for fucking him or sorry that you got caught?” he patronizes.

“sorry for fucking him matty, so sorry.” your croak.

“stop fucking calling me that.” he growls, reaching his other hand around to grab your throat.

your heart breaks at his response. you’ve always called him matty, and he absolutely adores the nickname. your face twists in pain, a yelp leaving you as he squeezes the hand around your throat tightly, continuing his rough pace.

“so fucking stupid, so fucking ungrateful, so fucking impatient. i already told you i’d let you fuck him again, you couldn’t just fucking wait? you had to go do it behind my back? you’re that much of a desperate whore? couldn’t go ten fucking days without my brother’s dick in you?” his words are filled with anger, grip on your throat even tighter as you wince at his words.

“c’mon matt chill, you’re hurting her.” chris’s voice is low as he speaks for the first time since his confession to matt.

“shut the fuck up chris. wasn’t talking to you.” matt scoffs, “besides, she likes it. likes being roughed up and treated like shit. didn’t she tell you that when you were balls deep in her?”

chris rolls his eyes, clenching his jaw at his brother’s comments. while matt was right that you enjoyed a bit of roughness during sex, this was nearing your limits. cries continue to escape you as tears stream down your face. but you don’t want to disappoint matt, you just want to fix things, you know you can take it. chris looks at you once more, his expression filled with concern before he speaks again.

“matt.” he warns.

“oh for fuck’s sake, she’s fine! she has a safeword and she can use it. but you’re not gonna, huh? because you’re a sick bitch.” matt seethes.

his words make you sob. it’s not his usual sex talk, he’s serious now, he means every word.

“a sick bitch who fucked my brother behind my back. bet you’d let him fuck you again too, just like this with my name written all over you. dirty fucking slut.” matt growls as his thrusts falter.

“matt no!” you cry shaking your head, desperately trying to convince him.

“shut up, don’t wanna hear your stupid fucking voice when i cum.” he orders.

your mouth falls open in a sob, head dropping at his words as your tears fall onto the mattress. he’s never spoken to you like this before, never treated you like this before— like he hates you. a feeling of nausea washes over your body. your heart feels shattered.

matt’s hips stutter as he finally releases inside you. he stills for only a moment before pulling out of you and backing up from the bed without a word. he locates his discarded clothes on the floor and begins dressing himself, back turned to his brother and yourself. you’re snifling quitely, eyes briefly meeting chris’s as matt finishes dressing himself and immediately heads for the door.

“clean her up chris.” matt mumbles, walking out of the room without so much as a glance at either of you.

chris jumps up from the seat, rushing over to you. he kneels in front of you and you see his mouth move but you don’t register anything he says. your brows furrow in disbelief as you hear matt’s footsteps move through the hallway. the sound of the front door closing and matt’s car starting are enough to your stomach drop, eyes widening at the reality of your situation. your body curls into a ball as you sob. he just left you, like you’re nothing. you know it’s over.

“hey, hey, you’re okay, it’s okay.” chris whispers finally register as he rubs your back through your sobs. “i’m gonna go run you a bath, okay? i’ll be right back, i promise.”

you don’t respond, simply continuing to cry in a fetal position as you think about how you just ruined the best thing that has ever happened to you. chris returns moments later and carefully picks you up before leading you to the bathroom. he places you in the warm bath that smells of your lavender soap— a scent that usually calms you, but nothing can calm you right now. your red teary eyes meet chris’s, who looks to be on the verge of tears himself as he lets out a shaky sigh. you know he feels guilty for all of this. he glances down at your chest before wetting a rag with soap and water, gently scrubbing the writing off.

“it’s okay,” he soothes, running his unoccupied hand through your hair softly, “it’s all gonna be okay.”

your sobs only worsen at his words as you shake your head. you don’t believe him.

“no—he’s gonna—leave me. he—he hates me.” you choke out through shaky breaths and tears.

chris stops washing you and reaches to cup your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs only for more to fall.

“hey, relax. he’s not gonna leave you sweetheart. take a deep breath for me.” he demonstrates an exaggerated deep breath for you to follow.

you copy his actions, letting out a shaky breath before speaking again, “you don’t know that.”

“yes i do.” he responds softly.

“how?” you ask through sniffles as you try to quiet your sobs.

chris sighs before he continues scrubbing the writing off your chest, “because i know my brother,” he begins, “and i know you’re the best thing that has ever happened to him. you’re the most important person in the world to him, probably even more than me and nick.”

chris pauses before speaking again.

“i know he would do anything to keep you.” his voice is lower this time, more strained, “he’s never gonna leave you.”

his tone is laced with something you can’t quite pinpoint— hurt? jealousy? anger? you watch a tear roll down his cheek before he quickly wipes it. he switches his gaze from the bath to your eyes, offering you a small smile.

“could you stand up for me sweetheart?” his normal soft voice returning.

you slowly stand up in the bathtub as chris begins to scrub the writing off your pubic bone, soon turning you around gently so he can wash the writing off your ass. the writing doesn’t come off easily, causing chris to scrub your skin until it’s nearly raw. every wipe of the washcloth is a painful reminder of matt’s hatred toward you. you find yourself crying again, quietly this time. chris sits you back down and finishes cleaning the rest of your body. he notices your tears but opts to not say anything this time, letting you cry it out while he rubs your hair with his free hand.

“all done sweetheart.” chris whispers after a few minutes before getting up to grab you a towel.

you step out of the tub onto the bath mat, allowing chris dry you off. his touch is soft as he gently pats you dry before wrapping the towel around you. he begins to walk you out of the bathroom before he abruptly stops as if forgetting something. he turns his head to meet your eyes.

“where do you wanna lay down?” his voice is soft.

“matt’s room.” you whisper, wanting to be there as soon as matt returns.

chris nods leading you to matt’s room. he digs through matt’s dresser to find you a t-shirt and boxers before walking back over to you. he dresses you carefully and pulls back the covers for you to lay down. he tucks you in gently and his hand reaches to push a stray hair behind your ear. he gives you a soft smile before turning to walk out of the room. you grab his wrist before he can fully turn.

“please don’t leave too.” you plead softly.

chris’s eyes linger on yours, contemplating your plea. he doesn’t want to make things worse between you and matt, but he can’t leave you like this. he nods, crawling into bed next to you. you curl into his chest, wrapping your arms around his body before breaking down in tears again. he rests his chin on your head and rubs your back softly.

“shh please don’t cry sweetheart. i promise you everything’s gonna be okay. just close your eyes and get some rest.” chris whispers.

“please dont leave.” you beg.

“i’m not going anywhere.” his soft fingertips move in circles along your back.

“promise you’ll stay here while i sleep?” you ask, terrified at the thought of losing them both.

“i promise. close your eyes y/n.” he plants a small kiss on your forehead before you shut your eyes and focus on the comfort of his fingers rubbing your back.

“i’m so sorry sweetheart.” he whispers as you fall asleep.

the sound of hushed voices in the hallway pulls you from your sleep. you turn to find the bed empty beside you, heart dropping at the realization that chris left. still groggy, you struggle to make out what the voices are saying, so you sit yourself up in an attempt to get a better listen. the door to matt’s bedroom is slightly ajar, but you don’t see anyone in the hall.

“all i’m saying is you need to talk to her, she thinks you’re gonna leave her.” you recognize chris’s voice.

“i’m not gonna leave her.” matt’s voice echoes.

it’s the first time you’ve heard him speak since earlier— it’s the first time he sounds like himself. your heart races when you process his words. i’m not going to leave her. chris was right. you angle your head in an attempt to see them through the cracked door, but you only find chris. he’s in the same black t-shirt and grey sweatpants he wore earlier, and his hair is slightly disheveled, presumably from running his hands through it like he always does when he’s stressed out. his eyes are heavy and his cheeks are flushed with a look of exasperation.

“i know and i told her that, but she’s a wreck dude.” chris tries to keep a whisper but his volume only increases, “it’s not her fault okay? she wouldn’t intentionally hurt you and you know that. if you want to be mad at me, that’s completely fine, i deserve it and i can take it. but she didn’t know matt, boundaries were never established and that’s on all of us, it’s a— unique situation. don’t torture her please. it’ll never happen again.”

you start to worry when you don’t hear matt respond. you move your head again, trying to get a glimpse of him through the door to no avail. suddenly the door creaks open. you look up to see matt entering his room and chris looking in from hallway. chris sends you a brief but reassuring smile before matt closes the door behind him. his eyes land on yours—his expression is so much softer than earlier. you let out an exhale you didn’t even know you were holding.

“hi” he speaks softly, his voice hoarse, as he walks over to where you lay.

“hi” you respond at a volume barely audible.

the bed dips as he sits down in front of you, one hand landing on your leg as the other reaches to touch your cheek.

“we need to talk.” he sighs.

“i’m sorry matty i— i shouldn’t have— i’ll never—” tears immediately begin to stream down your face as you struggle to complete a sentence.

“shh, let me talk.” matt speaks over you, his voice still soft and quiet as his thumb rubs your cheek.

he takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“i’m sorry for earlier. i was a dick to you, i was too rough, and it’s not okay. you didn’t deserve that, no matter what happened.” he begins before you shake your head.

“no matty i deserved it. i— i cheated on you and i’m so sorry.” voice squeaking as you bawl, closing your eyes.

“shh, you didn’t cheat on me. i never set boundaries, i never said i had to be present for you to fuck chris. it was a grey area and it’s my fault.” matt coos, wiping your tears, as you shake your head.

“no it’s all my fault. it won’t ever happen again matty, im so fucking sorry.” you cry.

“baby i don’t mind if you fuck him.” matt speaks.

you shoot him a puzzled look, confused by his words, “you don’t?”

he shakes his head, “no, i— i just want you to be happy. if chris also makes you happy, then that’s alright with me. it doesn’t really bother me, i think i just reacted that way earlier because—” he stops himself, dropping his hand from your face and his eyes from yours.

“what?” you sniffle.

“i guess i was— i am, just worried you’ll like him better. worried i won’t be good enough for you anymore and you’ll leave me for him. i don’t wanna lose you. i don’t care if you’re with us both, we have a lot of love to give you, i just can’t lose you. ” he confesses, eyes trained on his hand in his lap.

“matty i’d never leave you, i’m never going anywhere. i love you more than anything or anyone.” you reassure him, placing your hand over his.

“but you have feelings for chris too right?” he lifts his eyes to meet yours again, “it’s okay if you do, i’m not angry with you, i just need to know.”

you nod, heat rising to your cheeks at your admission, dropping your head to avoid matt’s eyes. he chuckles softly, hand lifting your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“hey, it’s okay, i promise you i’m not angry. we’ll talk to chris later okay?” matt asks.

you nod in response, earning a smile from him. he climbs over you and leans back against the headboard, extending his arms out for you.

“c’mere, just wanna hold you and take care of you right now.” matt pleads.

you smile, climbing into his lap and resting your head in the crook of his neck. he places soft kisses along your cheek as he rubs your lower back. his other hand moves to your hair, gently rubbing the sore skin from his tight pulling earlier.

“i’m so sorry that i hurt you baby.” he whispers, “i didn’t mean anything that i said, i was just upset and scared at the thought of losing you, but that’s not an excuse.”

“it’s okay matty.” you respond, placing a kiss on his neck.

“it’s not, i was so awful to you. i’m so sorry, that will never happen again.” matt’s voice strains as you feel a tear hit your skin— he’s crying.

“i’m okay baby, really.” you pull your face back from his neck to wipe his few tears.

he glances down at you with a look of adoration, offering you a soft smile.

“i love you baby.” he pulls you back against his chest.

“i love you too matty.” you whisper before fading into sleep.

a/n: okay so i originally planned on ending this series here but lmk what you guys think 👀

✧ tags✧ @m1zzi3 @pepsiisgoatedasf @courta13

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chratt #chratt smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fic #chris sturniolo fic #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo triplets fic #sturniolo triplets imagine #sturniolospumpkin

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zebuie · 6 months ago

Text

.𓂋 𝄞 Close To You 𖧷

❁PAIRINGS❁; girlfriend!ellie x reader.

❁ཻུ۪۪ ⋅ READ THIS. # DAILY CLICK ➹

⊹𓂋 SYNOPSIS; sitting on Ellie's lap while playing videogames turns into soft lovemaking <3

✸ 𓂃WARNINGS; wc: 2k, swearing, fingering (e & r receiving) , eating out (e & r receiving) , boob sucking (r receiving) , pet names ( baby , princess , good girl / i think that's all)

You were bored in your room so you started playing video games on your Playstation. Ellie, your girlfriend, came into the room and saw you playing, she asked you: "Don't you prefer to play on my lap? It's more comfortable, I promise."

She gave you a smile and you agreed.

You turn off the PlayStation, setting the controller aside. Then you sit back down on Ellie's lap, relaxing into her embrace.

You can feel the heat of her body through her clothes, the softness of her blouse against your skin. She smells good, like lavender and vanilla.

You breathe in deeply, feeling yourself start to relax, to unwind. Ellie's hands roam over your back, tracing the lines of your spine.

You let out a soft sigh, a pleasure-filled moan— barely audible.

Ellie leans down, planting a trail of kisses along your neck. "feels good?" she whispers. you reply with a eager nod. Her hands continue their exploration, drifting lower, to the small of your back. You arch, pushing your back into her touch.

Ellie chuckles softly. "Sensitive?" she asks, her lips brushing against your ear.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Her fingers linger, tracing patterns, making you shiver.

You sit there for what feels like hours, just enjoying the moment, letting Ellie's touch work its magic. And as you sit there, you start to feel that familiar pressure building once again.

You continue to sit on Ellie's lap, enjoying her touch, the way she makes you feel.

Her hands wander, sliding under your shirt, her fingers tracing your ribcage, dipping into your waistband.

You arch into her touch, encouraging her to continue. Ellie leans down, her lips finding yours in a soft, sweet kiss.

As she kisses you, her hands slide up, pulling your shirt off over your head. You feel a rush of cool air, followed by the heat of her hands on your skin. She discards your shirt carelessly, her attention focused on you.

Her lips trail down your neck, your chest, her hands roaming freely now. You feel yourself getting wetter, your panties clinging to your flesh. "Ellieee," you breathe, your voice hitching with need.

She looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire. "yeah?"

"I need you," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. Ellie smiles softly, her eyes glinting with triumph.

"Always," she responds, her voice low and husky. She stands, lifting you up effortlessly, and carries you off to her bedroom.

Once there, she lays you down on the bed, kneeling over you. She looks down at you, her eyes burning with desire, her lips curled into a wicked grin. she reaches down and slides your panties down your legs, tossing them aside.

You're left lying there, exposed and vulnerable, but also excited, anticipating what's to come. Ellie looks at your bared sex, licking her lips. "So pretty," she says, her voice full of awe. Then her tongue dips out, sliding through your folds, seeking out your clit.

You let out a soft cry of pleasure, your hips arching off the bed. And then her fingers start to move, sliding inside you, scissoring, stretching you.

she then dives head first in between your thighs. she continues to tantalize your senses, her tongue lapping at your most intimate places.

You can feel your body responding, getting wetter by the second. Her fingers slide inside you, scissoring, stretching you in the most delicious ways.

She curls her fingers, rubbing that sensitive spot deep inside. You cry out, your hips bucking involuntarily. "Sensitive," Ellie observes, her eyes glinting with wicked amusement.

Then her tongue darts out again, flicking at your clit. You try to keep still, but it's impossible. Your body is writhing, seeking out more of Ellie's expert touch.

She obliges, rubbing her tongue against you in firm, consistent strokes. Her fingers never stop moving either, pumping in and out of you, keeping the pressure building, building, building...

Ellie continues her relentless assault on your senses, her tongue lapping at your clit, her fingers pumping in and out of you.

You're so close, the edge of orgasm hovering just out of reach. "Don't come," Ellie orders, her voice firm but husky. "Not yet baby." She continues her ministrations, her tongue darting out in quick, hard strokes.

Her fingers curl, rub, press. You try to obey, you try to hold back, but it's getting harder and harder. Your body is tense, coiled, ready to spring. "Ellie" you protest, your voice high and desperate. "Please -oh my god"

Ellie ignores your pleas, her focus solely on driving you mad with lust.

Her tongue swirls around your clit, her fingers pumping faster, harder, deeper. You're so close, you can feel it, the rush of endorphins, the tingle of impending orgasm.

But Ellie won't let you cum. "Not yet," she commands, her voice a low, husky growl. "just getting started princess." She continues her relentless attack, her tongue lapping, her fingers curling, stroking that perfect spot inside you.

You're trapped in a prison of pleasure, unable to escape, unable to reach your peak. It's torture, sweet agony. Your body is tense, writhing, seeking release. "Elliee" you cry out, your voice raw and desperate. "Please, I need..." But you can't finish the sentence. Words fail you, overwhelmed by sensation.

Ellie continues her relentless assault on your senses, her tongue lapping at your clit, her fingers pumping in and out of you.

She's pushed you to the edge, kept you there, teetering on the precipice. Now, finally, she allows it. "cum for me baby," she commands, her voice a low, husky purr.

Her tongue flicks quickly, lightly over your clit. Her fingers press, stroke, curl. And then you're falling, tumbling over the edge, into the sweet release of orgasm.

Your body shakes, trembles, writhes. A cry tears from your throat. Ellie is there, holding you, supporting you as the waves of pleasure wash over you.

It seems to go on forever, the aftershocks, the slow, gentle fading. Finally, you collapse back onto the bed, spent and satisfied. Ellie lies down beside you, pulling you close. "Good girl," she whispers, planting a soft, sweet kiss on your forehead.

Ellie tends to you with gentle, loving care. She wipes your face, your neck, your chest with a soft cloth.

Her touch is soothing, calming. She covers your body in soft, sweet kisses, dotting your skin like stars in the night sky.

Her lips trail across your flesh, your collarbone, your shoulders. She pays special attention to your breasts, your hips, your inner thighs. Each kiss is a promise, a seal of love and affection. As she tends to you, she pulls you close, holding you, making you feel safe and sound. "I love you," she whispers, punctuating her words with more kisses. "So very much."

Ellie continues to shower you with affectionate kisses, her lips tracing patterns across your skin. she gently lifts up your tank top as she lingers longer over your tender nipples, her tongue flicking out to tease.

You let out a soft sigh, a pleasure-filled moan. She chuckles softly, looking up at you with adoring eyes. "Sore, princess?" She asks gently. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

Ellie nods sympathetically. "I'll be gentle then." She continues her ministrations, her lips soft and sweet against your flesh.

Ellie's lips wrap around one of your nipples, her tongue swirling around it in a maddeningly slow circle.

You arch, pushing your breast further into her mouth. She sucks, hard, the pull on your flesh sending sparks shooting straight to your core. You cry out, your fingers tangling in her hair.

Ellie hums around your nipple, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. She switches to the other breast, giving it the same attentive care.

You're left panting, your chest heaving, your sex throbbing with renewed need. "love you so much baby," Ellie says softly, looking up at you with dark, desire-filled eyes.

You gently climb on top of Ellie, settling between her legs. She looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire.

You lean down, your lips finding hers in a soft, sweet kiss. As you pull away, you slide down further, your tongue darting out to taste her sex.

Ellie gasps, her back arching off the bed. You lap at her, slowly, thoroughly, getting to know her taste, her scent.

You slide a finger inside her, curling it, stroking that perfect spot. Ellie moans, her hips rolling into your touch. You continue your ministrations, determined to drive her just as crazy as she drove you.

You continue to explore Ellie's sex with your tongue, your fingers. You learn what makes her gasp, what makes her moan.

You vary your touches, surprising her, teasing her. Ellie writhes beneath you, her hands tangling in your hair.

She tries to urge you on, to tell you exactly what she needs. But you already know. You slide a second finger inside, scissoring, stretching her.

Ellie cries out, her body tense, coiled. "So good," she gasps. "Don't stop."

You continue your relentless assault on Ellie's senses, your tongue lapping, your fingers pumping in and out of her.

She's a whimpering, writhing mess beneath you, her sex dripping with need. You dip your tongue inside, tasting her, marking her as yours.

Your fingers never stop moving, pumping, curving, stroking that perfect spot. Ellie is trapped in a prison of pleasure, unable to escape, unable to reach her peak. It's torture, sweet agony.

Her body is tense, coiled, ready to spring. she cries out, your name a plea on her lips. "Oh my fuck,"

You continue your ministrations, but your touch becomes gentle, soft. You lap at Ellie's sex with a delicate tongue, your fingers sliding inside with the lightest of touches. You stroke, you tease, you tempt.

Ellie whimpers, her hips rolling into your touch. You curve your fingers, rubbing that perfect spot with the softest of caresses. Ellie gasps, her back arching off the bed. You pull away, leaving her wanting more. "Please don't stop." She whimpers softly.

You continue to explore Ellie's sex with the gentle, soft touch of a lover. Your tongue laps at her, your fingers stroke, curl, press. You vary your touches, surprising her, teasing her.

But always, always with care, with gentleness. You're determined to drive her mad with lust, but without causing her pain.

Ellie writhes beneath you, her hips rolling, her back arching. She tries to urge you on, to tell you exactly what she needs—But you already know.

You slide a third finger inside, gently, carefully, stretching her in the softest way possible. Ellie gasps, her body tensing. "So full," she whispers, her voice breathy and desperate.

you dip your tongue inside, pressing hard, curling. Ellie cries out, her back arching off the bed, her hips rolling into your touch. She grips your hair, her fingers tangling, holding you in place.

"Yeah—fuck.." she screams, her body trembling, shaking. And then, finally, she's falling, tumbling over the edge, into the sweet release of orgasm.

Her sex clamps down on your fingers, milking, squeezing. You ride it out with her, until she's spent, until she collapses back onto the bed, panting, trembling. You collapse down beside her, wrapping your arms around her, holding her close.

You get up from the bed, leaving Ellie panting, trembling, spent from her orgasm. You go to the bathroom, wetting a cloth with warm water.

You bring it back to Ellie, gently wiping her sex, her thighs. She stirs, her eyes fluttering open. She looks up at you, a soft, sweet smile on her lips. "Thank you," she whispers, her voice hoarse from screaming. You gently clean her up, tending to her, caring for her.

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drabblesandimagines · 13 days ago

Text

Mistletoe

A secret Santa gift for @porcelainseashore and @leonsecretsanta

Prompt: Mistletoe. Trope: Childhood friends. Wildcard: Cowboy AU.

I'm so sorry I misread the deadline!

“No, no, no…” You plead in vain as the engine splutters, the car kangarooing forward at the loss of power as you manage to steer off to the side of the road. Well, if you could technically call it that – it was definitely more of a dirt track than anything else. There’s an awful sound as the carefully wrapped presents are thrown around and you’re hoping the vase you’d bought for your grandma has survived in the layers of bubble-wrap.

Damn it all. You’re so close too – just over three miles from town – but the whisps of smoke now emitting from the engine doesn’t seem promising.

Wait.

Smoke?!

You fumble with the handle, yanking it hard and flinging the door open in an attempt to throw yourself out of the car, nearly forgetting to unbuckle your seat belt as you do so. It’s not a graceful exit, a panicked tumble, scraping your palms on the dirt as you scramble up to your feet and try to create some distance between you and the machine you’re so is about to burst into flames.

Only to hear a dry chuckle.

You spin around in fright, barely keeping your balance – you swore there hadn’t been anyone in sight when you’d pulled over, the track had been dead as a doornail since you’d turned off the highway – but there, leaning against the beaten-up fence that lined the path is who you think is a man, the dipping winter sun silhouetting his figure, a stetson hat shading his face from view.

“Howdy, little lady”, a deep, oddly familiar voice greets. “Car trouble?”

“I…” You turn back to look at the vehicle, the smoke that had been emitting from under the hood is now just a non-threatening whisp. “I thought it was gonna explode. Complete hunk of junk.”

“Junk? Nah, she’s just a classic - like all the machinery on my ranch. Probably just needs a gentler touch. Mind if I take a look?”

Before you can answer, he’s hopping over the fence with the assistance of what you can now see is a particular toned forearm, clad in a grey – but what was once white t-shirt –sturdy denim jeans and striding over to you in a pair of black leather boots, finally lifting his head to reveal his face.

This is screaming stranger danger – out in the middle of nowhere, the setting sun, there’s never been any cell service on the outskirts in the town that you’d grown up in and you’ll be lucky to get a smidge of a bar when you even get there, and now you’re gonna be a headline on the town gazette about the abandoned truck on the side of the room, full of Christmas presents and-

Wait.

“Leon?”

His eyebrows furrow beneath the rim of his hat, blue eyes widening in realisation and suddenly you’re pulled into his chest by those muscular arms, an exclamation of your name into your crown in greeting.

He smells ridiculously good – a combination of musk, hay, a hint of oil from the machines at the aforementioned ranch… It’s only then that you realise your arms are still hanging limply by your sides that you return his embrace.

“I near about didn’t recognise you in the city get-up!”

You pull back, an accusatory look on your face that immediately falters when your heart skips a beat.

Of course he would only become even more attractive in your time away.

Leon S Kennedy had always been blessed in the looks department, that and his boyish charm had meant he’d always had a line of interested girls in high school and, with the way he seems to have aged like a fine wine, you don’t doubt that he must’ve made one his wife…

You shake off the thought, lying to yourself about why it had made your stomach sink in the first place.

“Uh-huh. My ‘city get-up’ compared to your look right now.” You can’t help but lift your hand and nudge the rim of the hat up with your forefinger. “When did you start wearing this?”

“Somewhere in the last, what, five years since you visited, right?” Leon tries to tease with a smile, arms still wrapped loosely around your waist, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah. Well…” You shrug, the uneasy feeling in your stomach now replaced with a knot of guilt. “There was classes and work, hard to get back down here. And Grandma liked to come visit.” It wasn’t a lie – she did. “But with her health not being so great this year…” You trail off, not really wanting to think about it.

You step back out of his embrace at last then, immediately feeling a little colder for doing so. You lift an arm to scratch the back of your neck and Leon immediately recalls it as an anxious tell from your youth.

“Yeah… I’m mighty sorry to hear about that. She seems fit as a fiddle to me, you know? I still see her every Sunday at the market. Hell, if I’m particularly lucky, she’ll let me carry the bags to her car.”

You force a smile. “That’s sweet of you.”

“Nah, it’s the least I can do.” He shrugs, looking like he wants to say more.

Instead, he claps his hands together and jerks his chin towards your car. “Let’s see if we can get you on your way, huh?”

“Sure. I’ll… I’ll pop the hood.”

As Grandma would say, gosh darn it all to heck and back.

You thought you were over him.

Leon had been your best friend since practically birth, right up until the end of high school when you’d headed off to the city for college and he’d stayed to take over his father’s ranch. It was the summer before college that something had changed, how butterflies had started to blossom in your stomach every time he smiled at you, despite doing it hundreds of thousands of times before and had made the goodbye as you’d packed up to head off to the city bittersweet.

You’d promised each other you’d stay in touch – every Thursday night you had a scheduled phone call where you’d tell him all about your classes, what annoying thing your room-mates had been up to, how your manager had changed round all your shifts at the coffee shop again… He’d regale you with tales of home, what he was planning on changing around the ranch, what the latest uproar was in the town meeting.

Thursday evenings had quickly become your favourite night of the week, sacrificing sleep as you and Leon would talk into the early hours of the morning, sometimes finding yourself even drifting out to the comforting sound of his voice, and looking forward to every night when you could cross another day off the calendar until winter break began…

The butterflies are swirling around your stomach now, sure, but you also remember how much it had hurt when you’d raced up to the ranch as soon as you’d got home, only to find him kissing Lorelie Becker the front of the stables, a solitary sprig of mistletoe hanging from the arched doorway.

You’d turned heel and sprinted off as quick as you’d ran there. Grandma had commented on how quick a visit it had been and you’d dug your nails into your palm, shrugging it off that, oh, he hadn’t been around and you’d catch him tomorrow, fibbing that you were tired and going to have an early night, sobbing into your pillow for being so stupid in the first place to think that he’d thought of you as anything more than a friend.

That winter break had been awkward. Interactions with Leon felt too forced and you’d fed him excuses about having to help your grandma out at home instead of any of the plans you’d made over the phone the weeks prior. You’d even headed back up to college early, managing to snag some extra shifts to fill the weeks – all just to get away from the heartbreak. Slowly, those scheduled Thursday calls turned into messages left on answering machine, the occasional game of phone tag in an polite attempt to reschedule and then, eventually, stopped altogether.

You’d shrugged off the feeling of loss whenever you thought of him, or been reminded of something that would’ve made him laugh, something he’d like, or when Grandma had mentioned seeing him in town.

The days had turned into weeks, months, and years…

And now, as you find yourself stood by the fence he’d hopped over, his hat resting besides you on one of the posts, staring at how dang good his rear looks in the well-worn, yet still stupidly fitted jeans, as he leans over, elbow deep in the components of your engine muttering under his breath, you realise how completely and utterly wrong you’ve been.

“Let’s see now...” Leon’s words break you out of your fixation as he stands up straight. He takes a moment to wipe off the oil from his hands on his jeans, drops down the hood with a satisfying thunk and turns to you, pushing the bangs out of his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Keys, darlin’?”

Your scalp tingles at the term of endearment and you could swear his cheeks are tinged red, but he clears his throat with a forced smile before clarifying.

“Your keys. Wanna make sure she turns over.”

“Oh.” You nod, stepping away from the fence. “Yeah, they’re still in the ignition.”

You walk over as he heads to the driver’s door, still open from your hasty exit, and watch as he leans in and turns the keys. The engine appears to start as normal - not a sputter to be heard nor a whiff of smoke to be seen.

Leon’s face erupts into a triumphant grin, but you can’t mirror it.

“It’s… It’s definitely safe to drive, right?”

The smile drops as he nods. “It’ll get you back to your grandma’s right enough. Mack took over the autoshop – I suggest you visit him before you head back down the highway…” He steps out your way and you hop into the driver’s seat, hoping to make a hasty exit.

“Thanks – saved me having to walk into town.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He shrugs. “Glad I was around.”

“I should…” You nod towards the open door. “Sorry, Grandma will start getting worried.”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“I always thought he was a nice boy.”

“Hm?” You mumble in reply, too focused on rolling out the dough on the wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. Grandma liked to make gift baskets for the neighbours as presents – packed full of home-made preserves and baked goods – and you’d been trusted with making the sugar cookies, acutely aware of how strict she was about achieving the perfect thickness before she’d even entertain the idea of getting the cookie cutters out.

“Do you need these fangled hearing aid things, sugar?” Grandma teases, tapping the device on her ear. “I said – I always thought that Leon was such a nice boy.”

“He’s not a boy anymore, Grandma.”

“Nice man, then. You know, I always thought you two would end up together…”

“We were just friends, Grandma.” You reply on default – it’s not the first time she’s brought up the conversation after all. You’d dated, of course, over the last couple of years, but every time they’d fizzled out Leon’s name would eventually be mentioned.

“No, not just friends. I saw the way he looked at you! Besides, it’s not like he’s dating or anything. All the ladies at church are constantly pushing their granddaughters on him and he’s nothin’ but polite. Why, Maureen Becker has been going on and on about her Lorelie-“

“Grandma!” You snap – emotions still high, nerves frazzled after seeing Leon yesterday. You knew it had been a possibility but, heck, you wanted to be more prepared, more put together your first time seeing him face to face again. “Leon didn’t like me like that, okay? I don’t know what happened between him and Lorelie, but they looked pretty cosy that night I saw them under the mistletoe at the ranch, so just stop, okay?”

“What’s all this now?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything,” you try and backtrack, leaning down onto the rolling pin a little too hard and with the next roll the dough is almost translucent.

“Well, all right, then.” Grandma purses her lips. “Say, I think we’re almost out of butter. You re-roll that dough and get the next batch on whilst I go fetch some.”

“That’s okay – I can go grab it and you just rest.”

“Hush”, she chides, already heading towards the door. “Doctor said it was good for me to do a little bit of a walk each day. I won’t be a tick.”

“Well, howdy, ma’am,” Leon dips his head in respect as he spots Grandma approaching, a determined look on her face as she stalks up the path to where he’d been mending a broken panel. “What can I do for…? Hey!”

She swats the hat off his head with a firm hand.

“Don’t you hey me – I’d love to take that hat and stomp it under my foot. Why, it would be mighty appropriate, don’t you think, the way you broke that poor girl’s heart? I would never-“

“Whoa, now.” Leon raises his hands in a practiced gesture – too often having had to use it on spooked horses – and takes a step back. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me, ma’am.”

Grandma takes a breath and scowls. "Lorelei Becker."

"Lorelei..." Leon trails off as he scratches his chin, trying to catch up. “From high school?”

"Yes.” She punctuates her response with a firm poke to his chest.

“Well, what about her?”

“The last winter break my sugar came home - she came straight here, only to find YOU smoochin' Lorelei under the gosh darn mistletoe!"

"What? No - that..." Leon backs up as Grandma pokes at him again, the jabs feeling like they’re already going to bruise. "That's not what happened."

"Here I was, thinkin' you were a fine, upstandin' fella and all this time-"

"No - I'd set that up for her! I...” He steps to the side, finally managing to dodge an assault. “I put up that mistletoe. Heck, I know it was corny, but I thought she'd like it… Then Lorelei showed up and just grabbed me – I didn’t even see her that night-"

Grandma stops and stares at Leon – it took him right back to his youth, stood in the kitchen at your house where the two of you had been scolded for taking the tractor out on a joyride in the dark – and he shrinks back in himself.

“You promise that’s the truth?”

“I swear, ma’am.”

“Well,” her face relaxes, “seems this dilly-dallying has all been a big misunderstanding all these years.”

“Er, dilly-dallying?”

“Dilly-dallying.” Grandma bends down before Leon can stop her, picking up his abandoned hat and dusting it off before offering it back to him. “You swing by ours in about an hour and we’ll sort out this mess once and for all.”

You’re about to take the next batch of cookies out of the oven when there’s a loud knock on the front door and Grandma is quick to whip the oven mitts out of your hands. “Get that, will you, sugar? I’ll get these.”

“But surely it’ll be for you-“

“Go on now,” she swots you with the gloves on the back of your legs, urging you towards the door. She’d been in a weird mood since she’d returned with the butter, not letting you leave the kitchen for a second, whilst she’d fussed around with something in the hall.

You swing open the door only to feel something swipe across the crown of your head – mistletoe dangling on a red ribbon from the doorframe between you and an equally looking surprised Leon, before realisation sets in across his face.

Your stomach sinks at what he must think.

“Wait, I did not put that-“

He smiles. “It was for you.”

“Huh?”

“The mistletoe. Not this one.” He clarifies, the plant still swinging side to side between the two of you. “Last time you came back from winter break. I’d hung it up at the entrance to the stables for you getting back, wanted to surprise you and then Lorelie Becker walked up, got all giddy, pulled me forward. I didn’t know you’d seen-”

You shake your head. “Look, I don’t know what Grandma told you, but-“

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

“I said,” he dips his head to remove his hat, “can I kiss you?”

You don’t respond – your body apparently switching into autopilot instead to those four words. You stand up on your tip toes, a hand flat on his chest for balance and kiss him ever so gently on the lips before your mind finally kicks into gear and you begin to retreat, an apology on the tip of your tongue.

But there’s an arm around your waist now, fingers threading through your hair on the back of your head as you’re pulled back into a desperate and long overdue kiss.

Grandma’s voice rings out from the kitchen.

“About dang time!”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leonsecretsanta2024 #ghostdogwrites

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charmedreincarnation · 1 year ago

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HiHi charm! 🌟

I’ve been in the shifting community since 2016. I know it’s been forever! I first learned about shifting from occult and witch forums and I’ve been obsessed ever since. But till recently, I’ve only ever been able to mini shift! That's changed now :D!

I used your reverse psychology technique and just like you said, whenever I imagined my desired reality (dr), I would be like, "ugh not again, I just wanna wake up here". My 3D life is stressful and filled with anxiety, so whenever I would think about my life, I’d pretend I was happy to go back, even though deep inside, I wanted to escape.

I'm in the medical field because of my parents and I hate it. I used to cry every day, but using this technique helped with that too. I gaslit myself into thinking I actually preferred my awful life than shifting!!

I practiced the technique for about 2.5 days and also used a quantum jumping meditation I bought from Tumblr. Then, I shifted to a reality where my room walls was pink instead of purple, and in that reality, I’m the master of the void and shifting.

Here's another tip: shift somewhere with a small difference, like your laptop is silver instead of rose gold, and script that reality like your dr.

I scripted my birthday, my appearance, how my room looks, but the only thing is I scripted myself as the master of the void and shifting! So that’s what I did and when I saw my new room color, I didn’t even waste time and I entered the void just by thinking abt it.

I had a whole ass list. Everything changed from spirituality to the color of my hair! I have the same desires as everyone tbh being hot, popular, wealthy, smart. I changed my major and woke up in an apartment away from my annoying parents. Obviously a great life but I saved fame and billionaire status for my other drs but I am more than blessed as it is now!

I also spent the whole night shifting and I love the concept of waiting rooms, but I call it my pocket dimension, where I use to rest between shifts so I can shift for 10 years if I wanted and it would only translate to overnight in this reality. Also everyone including myself is immortal in my wr I’m gonna love forever !!!!

Anyways, not much to say, I don’t want this to be too long! But shifting and the void is real! The law is real and it’s sooo worth it. I already forgot how much I hated my life and it hasn’t even been that long.

Remember, you are the master of your reality! Keep shifting, keep dreaming! 💫

That's absolutely fantastic news girlie (I think)! I'm thrilled to hear about your successful shifting journey. It sounds like you've put a lot of thought and effort into this process, and it's paid off in the most wonderful way. Also Immortality in your wr is so real <3!!!! Super proud and happy for you 💗💗

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #void state #reality shifting #shiftblr #void success

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sm-baby · 9 months ago

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Wait... Since Mei-lyn was originally based off of you... Does that mean Weiss is the type of guy you would theoretically find attractive? (Unless I'm thinking too hard about this... you stated you're ace so, I'm probably WAY off the mark here!)

short answer: NAuR, Weiss was genetically modified to not be a lame boring love interest so I made him super awesome and cool and stuff like batman

He was also genetically modified to be my type of blorbo 😔

Long answer:Nah ... often times in media i realized that people panic when they say that they have to make a love interest. So, they end up making this conventionally attractive boring ass "boy next door" dude that has NO chemistry with the main character, and doesn't effect the character in anyway.

I said FUCK THAT and literally made it so

1. They have chemistry

Making him the prosecutor and Mei-lyn a defence attorney, yall IMMIDIATELY picked up on a rivals dynamic, which is a GOOD sign.

2. Serves his love interest(Mei-lyn)'s character

Him being a Lawyer, and living a life that Mei-lyn always wanted already gives a service to her character

The fact that he stands against oppression and authority which is s a large theme in her story

Not to mention him being an actual good guy contrasts Mei-lyn and we actually see how lowkey awful her actions have been.

3. He has a large significance to the "story"

Bro kick-started the REVOLUTION. I have made it my fucking duty to make it so the story would NOT be the same without him.

Love interests are best when they're not written to be a love interest, but their own separate character with flaws, history, and values.

Not to mention there is a topic of respect and what love IS... Weiss is willing to hold Mei-lyn accountable and will love when it is deserved. NEITHER of them grow feelings until Mei-lyn grows as a person.

I LOVE WRITING. I LOVE WRITING. I LOVE WR-

#Piece by Piece #mei lyn #mei-lyn #meilyn #weiss

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alexa-fika · 1 year ago

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Hello again I thought of a request

How about the scene in the Baratie Arc

So mihawk attacked Don Krieg because he kidnapped winged reader (wr)

But wr managed to escape and steals a small boat

he's starving and finds the Baratie but he doesn't have money and we see his interaction with Sanji

And at the end he goes with his dad

This going to be a long one 😂

🐼💕~

Escape, Friend, Return ( Zoro,x male!child!reader x Sanji)

A/N: You were not wrong this was long 😳, at least compared to what im used to. When I was writing I was like this wont be so long, and then I was oh…

Dividers by @/saradika

Reader squeaks, avoiding another cannonball heading his way as he flies away

Finally, he managed to reach his destination, an emergency boat intended for use if the main ship sank.

Reader, however, had a much different intention for said boat, intending to escape his captivity at the hands of Captain Krieg.

Don Krieg's face drops as he watches the ship take off.

"Shoot the little rat down!"

Another shriek escapes him as he raises the sails, giving the small boat speed and creating distance from Krieg and the incoming cannonballs

'Shoot for the sails!'.

Don-Kreich and the rest of his crew frantically fire their remaining cannons.

He flinches as one of the cannonballs lands dangerously close, the small boat shaken by the force of the waves created in turn

He sighs with relief as he makes enough distance from the main boat to be out of range of the canon

“I did it…” he mutters, the reality of what just happened to him hitting the young boy as they slowly sink down, rogue tears gradually increasing until a river of tears fell from his eyes, sobbing for his father and the safety on his embrace, exhaustion catching up to him as sleep enveloped him.

Reader was woken up by the ship impacting with a much bigger boat

“Ow,” he whines, rubbing his head, looking up and awing; he had stumbled upon a giant ship if one could call it that, a fish making the underside with a building in the middle.

“B..?” he squints at the words in front of the weird shape, unable to make out what the collection of letters read; he flutters up and into the vast ship.

He sneaks all the way towards where he sees bustling of people, hiding behind a pillar and peeking out, spotting a blond man smoking on the railings of the ship

He squeaks as the man turns his head his way, and he quickly dart back behind the pillar

“Hmm?” Sanji watches the strange sight, tilting his head

Reader peeks his head out again, taking a glimpse at the man, darting back once they see the man staring at him

Sanji watches the child curiously before heading over to the person of interest

He squeals as he peeks out again, only to see the man right before him, slowly backing away, tears welling in his eyes

Sanji looks at the child, his expression softening

“Hey, what are you doing out here all alone?”

“I-I I “

Sanji kneels down in front of the boy.

“Are you alright?” he asks

“I -I want my daddy.”

Sanji looks concerned. “Do you know where he is?” he asks

He shakes their head

“Oh…how about you just come with me to my kitchen then…we can get something to eat at least,” Sanji says

He stares at his hand hesitantly

“Hey, I won’t hurt you, alright? You look like you could use a nice meal. C’mon,” he says, offering his hand

He slowly puts his hands over his

Sanji gently takes the little hand as he starts walking, headed to the kitchen

“What’s your name, kid?” he asks

“Reader”

“And where are you from, Reader?”

“Ummm, im from Papa’s island!”

“Hmm…and how did you end up all alone out here?”

“A bad guy took me,” he said, stretching his wings out

“I see…let’s see if we can find you some food then, ok?” Sanji takes the boy to the kitchen

“Okay!”

Sanji puts the little one on a chair before making them some food

“Here…” Sanji gives him a warm bowl of soup

“Thank you, Mister!”

“You’re welcome…” Sanji says kindly

“That was really yummy, Mister.” he smiles, kicking his feet and lightly flapping his wings in content

“Umm, what's your name, Mister?”

“My name is Sanji…nice to meet you, Reader.”

“Hi, Hi, Sanji!”

“Oi Assitant Headchef Sanji! We need you on the floor! We don’t have any waiters! They ran off yesterday!”

Sanji looks up from his workstation and then turns back to the child; he sighs

“I gotta help these idiots out there. Could you wait for me on the platform? You have a nice view from there; once im done, I‘ll help you find your father; does that sound good?”

“Okay! But you have to promise to come back and help me find Daddy!”

Sanji smiles.

“Do not worry, im a man of my word. Go on now and wait for me there; I’ll be there shortly.”

"Okay." he smiles flying toward the upper balcony

The next hour was a blur to the small child, from meeting the future King of the pirates on the balcony to seeing him comedically try to convince Sanji to join his crew to laughing joyously as Luffy and Zoro quarrel to a feeling of fear and dread enveloped him as the familiar gold armored man came barging in, carried by the hungry man, asking for food and pummeling Sanji to the ground and shooting all the chefs when he received the food but did received refusal to his demand of handing the restaurant To him.

He now found themselves crying in the hands of the blond cook as he soothed down his loud sobs and cries.

Sanji sighs softly as he takes a handkerchief and gently wipes his tears

"Hey, Hey, it's okay; he's not gonna touch you again, darling."

"H-H-he came back, he came back, and Mister Sanji and the others got hurt!"

"Hey now, I will never let anyone hurt you, alright?" Sanji pulls the child close to him

He grunts as Don Krieg starts demanding food for his crew; needing food to feed a hundred people, he gently passes over the kid over to Zoro, who happens to be the closest to him; once they had managed to calm down the child, their sobs now simply reduced to heavy breathing.

"Stay here, Darling, i'll be right back

"Where are you going?" a chef questions

"Im going to the kitchen to prepare enough food for a hundred people," he mutters, taking a drag from his cigarette as chaos erupted in the restaurant once again, punches being delivered until Zeff walked out and handed a bag full of food for Krieg's crew

Zoro rolls his eyes, glancing down at the child. In his arms

"Oi, where are your parents?" he questions

"I don't know where Daddy is."

"Who is your dad?"

"Umm, Daddy!

"Of course," He grunts

"....That hawk-eyed man whose glare is sharp enough to kill a man," the hungry man mutters as they both tune in back to the conversation

"That's Daddy!"

"What?!" he said, ruffling through his pockets and pulling out a wrinkled old paper with a familiar face on it

"Is this your father?"

"That's Daddy!"

"You're the child of H-

His discovery Is cut short as a tremendous force cuts the huge galleon in half, making the baratie sway violently.

"Look out!" He growls, moving reader out of the way as the swaying throws the chairs and tables around, almost taking with it Reader.

He squeals at the sudden collision and movement; they look up a Zoro

"Are you okay?"

He, however, does not respond, eyes glued in front of him, staring at the ship that was slowly sinking to the sea, and in front of it floated a raft with a familiar man sitting on it.

"DADDY!" he cheers, wriggling out of Zoro's grasp to fly towards their father, barreling right into him

Mihawk catches the young child, gently holding him in one arm.

"There, there..."

"You're here," he mutters

Mihawk nods, gently running his fingers through his hair

"I am," he says, looking down at him

"Are you unharmed? Did they hurt you?" he said, gesturing to Zoro and their aquentainces.

He shakes his head

"They helped me, they gave me food, and they took care of me."

He hums at their answer

"Damn you, what did we do to you?! Why the hell did you have to follow us all the way out here!" a crewmate of Krieg sneered, pulling out two guns and shooing the swordsman

"Why? What impertinence to ask such a question; I came because you had the nerve to take something from me," he said, deflecting the bullets from him and his child with ease.

"You really are the strongest... I set sail to meet you," Zoro says, slowly stepping closer

Mihawk glances at him and then down at Reader.

"Stay here; I will return shortly," he said, placing him down in the raft and stepping into what remained of Krieg's ship towards the ex-pirate hunter

They engaged in a few words and then engaged in the one-way battle, Mihawk not moving from his spot as he easily bested the green head with his tiny dagger; impressed with his ambition, ferocity, and conviction, he asked for his name, and gave him his respect and honor of bringing him down with all of his force, using Yoru.

"Stand Strong, Roronoa; I will wait for you at the top. No matter how many months or years pass, I will wait for you to surpass my sword."

He smiles as he watches as Zoro raises his sword and promises Luffy never to lose again

"You make a good team; I'd like to see you in the future. You have my thanks and respect for taking care of Reader while I was gone," He says, walking away to his raft and scooping said child, smiling again as they giggle and nuzzle into them.

"Farewell

Okay, y’all im not used to something this long especially for it to be following canon so closedly so idk I feel like its a flop, I don’t feel that usual 🥰 vibe, ya know? I did have to start skipping and resuming some parts, cause well I don’t want ya to read a manuscript of the manga…

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

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