#can’t and don’t want to replace him to him

[keeheauxtales]

here’s a quick confession: I likely was the one who requested this drabble, and baby, did Mikha deliver or what?! 🥵😍

however, I felt compelled to return to my stephenyoonkeeholdup roots and build upon this since then, and I finally found it in me to finish it! I feel just a little rusty, but I still ultimately enjoyed writing this!

for anyone who comes across this (MDNI‼️): enjoy! 🤍

S.I.S (Self-Indulgent Series) | VOL. 2

I See U 🔞👀

pairing: switch!keeho stephen (with a bit of a perverted edge?) x [poc-inspired] switch!fem-bodied reader (reader’s pov)

content warnings: reader's a bit of a cougar (but only by a couple years in this scenario, wherein keeho is the same age as reader's sister), use of a metaphor involving an element of catholicism… i'm also (still) experimenting with only using 'stephen' throughout this piece. and since beginning this S.I.S series, i've joined the growing(?) population of "big dick keeho truthers" here. 🤭

themes: oral (m and f receiving), mutual masturbation, needy!kee!, edging, dirty talk, air fucking??

word count: ~2.2k (lowercase intended)

i’ll be goddamned… my sister’s bestie was in my room… jerking himself silly… on my bed! the audacity of this motherfucker, i swear! i always peeped that about stephen, though; how little to nothing will stop him from achieving whatever he wants to achieve. it’s a whole other animal — when it clicks in my mind — that he clearly wants to achieve something with his best friend’s older sister… with me.

“I can’t get this feeling… out of my body tonight

I know I need you

If you like that feeling… inside of your body

Let me know and fuck with me now.”

— 🎵🎶 “With Me” | DVSN

in the same capacity, i’m nosy to no end, and that too can more often than not lead to consequences. such as, inadvertently intruding on someone’s privacy. however, it’s valid when that ‘someone’ intrudes all up in your personal living space, unprovoked.

“what the fuck?” i spit out, feeling my blood pressure rising with every step i take into my bedroom, approaching a [fine, sexy] guy i only know by association. as i close and lock the door, i see poor stephen visibly shake as he attempts to crawl backwards with his dick all out.

“fuck!” he spits out in response, eyes widening while still evidently clouded with lust for the subject matter walking toward him. “shit, i’m so fucking sorry…” he then takes a pillow near him to cover his junk, seemingly letting out a moan at the contact… because don’t think i didn’t clock how hard his cock was even now.

“nah, don’t be sorry now,” i retaliate, quickly moving the pillow, and replacing it with my hand. even i consider how bold this is, but i clearly heard my name leave that pretty mouth of his several minutes prior.

stephen is unable to stop the moans from escaping him while my hand goes from just palming his surprisingly big dick to stroking it at a casual pace.

“was this what you wanted when you called my name earlier?” i inquire, my eyes staring right into his.

he gulps before answering breathlessly, “to an extent..?”

"what exactly did you want then?" i question further, an eyebrow raised.

"i want to fuck you."

alrighty then! it didn't matter that his answer was as clear as day before i ‘barged’ into all this; it was him being so damn blunt. i guess he figured that it was impossible (and unnecessary) to even attempt beating around the bush about it.

"you better be grateful i want you to…" i would've ran him out of my room pants-less otherwise, but i wasn't about to just let him have his way so quickly. i begin to confess as i lower myself to my knees like he's a priest, and i'm asking for forgiveness instead of confirming permission. "you better be glad i'm as curious as i am about those looks you give me every time i come around you, my sister, and your little friend group."

"mmm…" is all that stephen utters, his eyes closing as i continue to grind my hand all around his thick, veiny shaft, inadvertently using a bit of his release as a sort of lubricant.

"be glad i want to know how you feel inside me…" i say before opening my mouth to slowly take him in. i look up to see him squeeze his eyes shut, feeling his cock pulsate in my mouth, which made my pussy do the same beneath me.

"f-fuck?" stephen exhales as he immediately thrusts up into my mouth, making me gag as the tip brushes against the back of my throat. i don't want to look away from such a pretty sight above me, even as I'm struggling to breathe.

he's so big? i think to myself as i bob my head along his cock, moaning around his length, beginning to caress his thighs and stomach. i brush against the hem of his shirt, the drying spot from when it was in his mouth of all places, thus reminding me of just what got us in this predicament in the first place. without me even asking (and quite frankly, i was too willingly preoccupied to), stephen finally discards of the shirt, revealing tan skin that was more gorgeous than i might've even imagined.

“mmm…” it became my turn to moan out as my bottom lip rested on his mushroom tip, “you taste really fucking good, steph.” i drag a hand of mine down underneath him to grab at his balls, and he starts to lose it.

“shitshitshit… (y/n)!” stephen whines, and my own name sounds like music to my ears coming from him, making me moan as drops of precum land on my tongue. i lean back to swallow the sweet taste before engulfing his cock in my mouth again. "oh my god, you’re gonna make me cum, keep suck—"

as much as i didn’t wanna do it, after my head promptly dipped to meet my hand a couple more times, i draw back completely, feeling a bit diabolical. i surpress a smirk as i wipe saliva from my mouth, licking my lips after.

“i waited to walk into my room ‘til i saw you clean your hand of all evidence of your nasty thoughts about me,” i clasped my fingers in between the fingers of that very hand of his before resuming my little spiel. “so you can wait your turn for seconds. i wanna play catch-up with you.”

i had brought stephen’s fingers to the spot that became just as permeated as the bottom of his shirt — the center of my short bottoms. i could barely hear the gasp i saw leave his mouth over the boisterous noises that had left mine immediately upon impact.

“god, i need that in my mouth,” stephen exhales, his free hand latching onto the waistline of my shorts. i let go of his other hand to assist in discarding them completely. however, i don’t move quite yet once i feel fabric hit my knees, my eyes piercing down at the increasingly needy boy sat beneath me. “please!”

“good boy,” i coo at him mischievously, moving my hands to cup his face in between them. he looked so cute as he glanced up at me, a hint of softness showing in his eyes despite the overwhelmingly obvious lust.

his gaze follows my bottoms down my legs, letting out a drawn-out moan at my exposed cunt before dragging two of his fingers along my folds. i reply to stephen’s low moans with a few of my own, feeling (and hearing) just how wet i already was.

by then, my hands had found their place down in between his neck and shoulders, my fingers digging into them as i feel his fingers dig into my dripping cunt way too easily.

“fuck… you must’ve been wanting me just as bad, huh?” stephen asks with twice as much curiosity as he feigns a tone of cockiness.

“don’t — fuck! — get too excited, boy,” i respond with my own portion of botched boldness. i’m the one whose juices are landing on my bedroom floor… now onto my bed… while one of stephen’s hands is on the small of my back guiding me back onto the mattress to join him, his other hand remains pumping into me at a ruthless, nonstop pace. it’s not long before my knees buckle, and my ass lands in between his open legs.

i attempt to crawl over to stephen when my hand instinctively gravitates around his dick again, pulsing as i pump my hand around him, and i just know his hand has to be soaking now. my face is mere centimeters from his gorgeous face, and i almost forget how to breathe.

sticking my tongue out, i (after brief thought of how insane all of this was) lick stephen’s gaping bottom lip, inviting him to kiss me as we continue feeling each other up from below — which he does… very feverishly.

i can’t help but match his energy – and volume – when he proceeds to thrust three of his fingers at this moderate speed, yet each hit is so aggressive that my legs begin to shake. the both of us can’t seem to help the overflow of obscenities that spill over into each other’s mouths in between languid kisses.

after a while of messily making out, our mouths are left gaping open, facial expressions mirroring the other as i notice stephen’s eyes glued to my lower body. almost completely distracted, my hand slows around his throbbing cock. one way or another, he seemed determined for someone to reach their climax.

“wanna cum… wanna make you cum…” stephen begins to mindlessly ramble in between panted moans and groans.

“you still want to taste me?” i ask, just as breathless as he is, yet just barely able to remember what he said earlier.

“god, yes… so bad… please?” stephen pleads, complete with such an irresistible doe-eyed gaze that i find myself crawling up toward the headboard, grabbing onto it as i lower myself onto his face.

at the last possible second, i notice stephen’s thick tongue completely hung out like his cock. but before my body could properly react to that, i feel its heat enter the heat of my wetness, and i can’t seem to stop the whimpers i let out, or my legs from shaking.

“oh fuck!” i yell out breathlessly, gripping the headboard tighter, but not as tight as stephen is gripping my waist — and definitely not as tight as my walls are gripping his tongue.

i raise my body up and down as stephen’s tongue curls itself in alternating directions, and the moans he lets out from underneath me cause my back to arch as I respond with similar (louder) sounds.

“fuck! steph…” i groan, beginning to fuck myself on his tongue — not his face, but his mouth — as i feel (and hear) soft, plump lips sucking intently on my pussy lips. his hands have went from around my waist to gliding all around my lower back, a couple of surprise smacks coercing me into fucking his face with one of my hands lodged in between hair follicles.

with his huge hands gripping all on my ass, i roll my hips to grind against him unabashedly, feeling his tongue dip a bit deeper in between my walls. in response to the tip of it flicking rapidly before continuing to suck every bit of arousal he possibly could out of me, i let out moans laced with so much debauchery that i scare myself.

i barely sense the adjustment and movement stephen makes with the rest of his body in the midst of all this face fucking i’m doing, but his head is beginning to be engulfed by pillows — my pillows — and i feel the bed shift a bit different than my body is moving. i slowly turn around as much as i can to find him thrusting up into the air while still managing to lick and suck me into what could be one of the best orgasms of my life.

i reach back and wrap a hand back around his cock, feeling precum as well as vibrations from between my legs as stephen hums in a higher pitch. at this point, i feel like i’m riding a mechanical bull, especially once my hand lands on his sack again.

with his mouth becoming a bit harsher with its’ actions, stephen begins bucking his hips up, my fist full of his dick as he sporadically fucks up into it. he won’t stop moaning into my dripping cunt, and i can’t help groaning at how good he feels.

“fuck, stephen… you feel so fucking amazing, shit!” i cry out, feeling my legs shake yet again even harder than before. his tongue flicks along my clit rapidly and repeatedly, and i feel my stomach tighten… but once again, not as tight as my walls are around that muscle of his. “fuck, i’m gonna cum!”

i hear stephen let out a long, loud muffled moan as some sort of response, his cock twitching in my hand while his fingers begin clawing into the skin of my lower back. my other hand — that never left the top of his head — grabs the back of his head, pushing his mouth just that much further into my warmth, but only for a moment as my wetness begins to take over.

“oh my god, steph…” i exhale as i feel goosebumps all over my body while i release into his mouth. seconds later, my hand becomes just as coated with his cum as his was in the beginning of all this.

moments later, after we both regain any semblance of composure, i’m laid out next to (but opposite) stephen as he takes my cum-covered hand, and sucks my fingers clean of all evidence of his vulgar thoughts about me. i see him sneak a glance at my alarm clock before speaking.

“looks like we have probably 30 minutes before we’re not alone anymore…” he states between kisses he plants on each of my knuckles. “do you wanna keep going?” a pause as his voice deepens, “because i genuinely wanna fuck you into your mattress right now.”

the moan that escapes my lips before sitting up was downright incontinent. with a hand on his chest, i push stephen back down before making intense eye contact with him.

“if that’s what you want… then fuck me, baby boy.”

it was one of keeho’s guilty pleasures where he liked to touch himself at the thought of you even if you were merely a few rooms away, even if you were one of his best friends’ sibling.

keeho had the rim of his shirt stuffed in his mouth when he was pumping himself dry as his mind thought of the most impure and racy things about you, and that included fucking you dumb and filling you up with his cum.

throwing his head back with a whine, keeho’s whines were loud despite the fabric in his mouth, slowly dampening due to his saliva. his hips buck up into his hand as he grips himself a little too hard, tears brimming his eyes as he shut his eyes hardly.

he whines and pants, “y/n..” keeho moans with a mouthful of his shirt, chest heaving with pants as he helplessly bucked his hips up.

when keeho was spurting his cum all over his hand, he would’ve never known that you had seen him through the door’s gap that he unintentionally left open when he hurriedly went in and touched himself at the thought of you.

[matchpointfaist]

a love like religion ˚₊‧꒰ა♡໒꒱ ‧₊˚

sheltered! art x flirty reader pt iii

the third time he saw you, art couldn’t decide between happy and horrified. he’d been doing his best to stay focused on his studies, his faith, and his training; on anything but you. his thoughts drifted, sure, but for the most part he thought he was doing pretty well. an entire week passed, and he managed to avoid you on campus, ignoring his fleeting thoughts of wishing to see you, even for just a moment.

he knew, in the back of his mind, that attending his teammates birthday party was a mistake. he knew you were in the same social circle, that you’d probably be there, all gorgeous and flirty and drunk and- it was just best if he didn’t see you.

he told himself he wasn’t taking extra care in his appearance for you; he just wanted to look good, that’s all. a birthday party is a big deal. so he got dressed in a button up and jeans, made sure his hair was perfect and his cologne wasn’t too strong, and tried to keep his head high as he entered the already too loud party.

almost immediately, his eyes fell to you. everyone’s did, though, he couldn’t blame himself. you were a vision of pink and silver shimmer, your hair falling down the dangerously low back of your dress. his breath quickened, his mind racing with excuses on how to get out of here before you noticed- and then, your sharp eyes were on his, a dangerous little smile on your glossy lips.

“donaldson!” your voice carried over the music like a melody, like some sort of siren call crafted just for him, rendering him helpless, “cmere!” and he practically floated to your side, a nervous smile on his lip, “uh, hi, hey. i didn’t know you’d be here,” he managed, biting the inside of his cheek and hoping he didn’t think too stupid.

“course id be here,” you grinned, “what’re you drinkin? i can get you a refill,” he shook his head, “no, i don’t drink, i can just get a water,” “you don’t drink?” you laughed, like it was the most insane thing in the world, “cmon, artie. come with me,”

so he followed you to the kitchen, let you pour him a cup of stale beer even though he knew it was wrong, it was stupid, it was a sin. “it’s cheap shit, but it’s fine,” you sounded almost apologetic as he sniffed it, trying to keep his nose from scrunching, taking a shy sip. “you look pretty,” he said after a moment, choking down the beer with what he hoped was only a slight grimace.

“you too,” you smiled, and for just a brief second, it seemed real. not like that fake, mocking smile you gave everyone else. in a flash, though, it was gone, replaced by the coyness you showed the rest of the world, “nice shirt. green looks good on you,” you trailed your fingers over the collar of his shirt, and he almost lost it right there in the crowded kitchen, his head swimming. “my grandma got it for me,” his cheeks flushed, acutely aware that was not the right thing to say, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“cute,” you just smiled, “here, finish that and i’ll make you another, kay?” he shook his head, already regretting the first round, “no, i really can’t, i’m sorry,” he rambled, “i have class tomorrow and i don’t drink anyway and-“ “don’t worry about it,” you rested a hand on his shoulder, “it’s fine, artie. we’ll have fun anyway, yeah? you can just watch me drink,” you teased. and oh, he did watch you. all night, you practically dragged him around the party, inches from you at all times.

he watched you laugh, watched you dance, watched you drink and smoke and all the things he’d always be too afraid to do. he watched you in rare moments of your true form as you interacted with your girl friends, watched you shut down the guys that tried to dance too close to you. he watched so intently he felt like he had learned who you really were in just a few short hours, like he’d cracked some sort of code he must have missed before.

at 11, he debated leaving without even saying goodbye, just leaving you to your dancing and talking. but as he turned to leave, you were calling his name, a little pout on your lips that sent him reeling. “i’ll walk you home,” you offered, and he took note of your heels in your hand, your bare feet on the floor. “no, that’s alright,” he smiled slightly, “thank you, though. that’s kind of you,”

“let me,” you pressed, “at least let me walk you out, art,” so he did, of course, like he did everything else you asked of him. you walked with him to his dorm, and when you asked to come in, he let you do that, too. even when his head was screaming at him to stop, that this wouldn’t end well, that temptation was the gateway to sin.

you just looked so fucking pretty, sitting there on his bed, your heels tossed in the floor and the skirt of your dress on his comforter. he wished he could memorize the moment, bottle it up and save it for when this night ended. surely you’d never be back there, he told himself, this was just one time. a lapse in judgment, on both your parts.

but then he was sitting beside you, and your perfume was so sweet, and your words were even sweeter when you asked him about his hometown and his family and the pictures on his bookcase. you sounded like you really cared, like you thought he was interesting. you, of all people.

“you can relax,” you told him, and his heart nearly stopped as you pressed your leg to his, scooting closer on his bed, “jesus, you’re so tense. i’m not gonna bite you, yknow. not unless you like that,” you winked again, and his cheeks were flushed, his mind working overtime to form words that just wouldn’t come.

“you shouldn’t be in here,” he finally blurted out, his eyes wide with fear of the way it sounded, like he didn’t want you there when that could not be further from the truth, “sorry- that came out wrong. i just- i can’t be with anyone, and you’re in my room and it’s late-“

“you can’t be with anyone?” you repeated, a laugh on your lips, “why not, hm? is the devil gonna getcha if you slip up?” and then your hand was back on his necklace like all those days before, touching it, burning into his skin, “live a little, art,”

and then you were kissing him, and oh god, oh god, oh god. it was heaven and hell and a mistake and bliss and burning and soothing and everything he’d been too afraid to admit he’d ever wanted. you tasted like vodka and cotton candy and sacrilege and he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t hold back the sounds leaving him from the simple act of your kiss, couldn’t stop his hands from wandering and fuck, you were so warm and so soft and he could’ve died right there when you climbed into his lap, kissing him dizzy, tipping his jaw open with your fingers and dipping your tongue into his mouth.

he would’ve let you do anything in that moment, would’ve let you ruin the path he’d been on for so many years, would’ve let you dismantle all his plans and his faith and anything you wanted if you just kept grinding against him, kept kissing him so sweetly, so dangerously.

and then you sank to your knees off the bed, your hands pulling at his belt and your eyes shining as you blinked up at him, a sultry little smile on your swollen lips. “you’re so hard,” you hummed, sounding content as you pulled down his jeans, “has a girl ever touched you like this, hm?”

“no,” it came out like a whine, his hips bucking into your hand as you ghosted your fingers over his cock, “jesus- no, no one has,” you made a little noise, like you were pleased, and your eyes widened as you pulled down his boxers, taking him into your hand. “this is so- oh, this is so bad,” he hissed in half-pleasure, half-anguish as you pumped him slowly, your lips parting. “why’s it bad?” you asked, so innocently, so sweet, “just making you feel good, art. that’s all,”

“a sin,” he panted, eyes screwed shut, knowing full well if he looked at you he’d finish right there, just from your hand, “this is- sex before marriage is a sin and,” he trailed off, fucking into your hand despite himself, a little whine leaving his throat.

“oh, no,” you tsked, and when he dared to open his eyes, you were pouting up at him, “it’s okay, art. i’ll be good, yeah? i’ll make up for it,” he didn’t have time to question how before your tongue was on him, licking at the tip like a lollipop, and his eyes rolled back, his hands fisted in his sheets.

“forgive me father, for i have sinned,” you murmured, and he choked out a moan as you took him into your mouth fully, so warm and wet and close- fuck, he was so close. you pulled away with a pop!, “holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners,” and then his cock was down your throat, and you were humming around him and he was so fucking close- his hands were in your hair before he could think to stop himself, his hips bucking into your mouth, your name leaving his lips between moans and pleas.

he didn’t know what he was asking for, exactly. forgiveness, release, for you to slow down so this never stopped, but for you to make him cum down your throat like he’d imagined so many times before. one hand was in your hair, the other clutching his sheets as he came, panting and moaning and whining he opened his eyes in just enough time to see you licking your lips clean, wiping your chin with a grin, sucking your thumb into your mouth.

you leaned down, kissing him until all he could taste was salt and sweat and you, god, you, and then you were gone, his lips still hot. “amen,” you whispered against his ear, gathering your heels and pausing at the door, “see you around, art,”

and then, for the second time, you were gone. he looked down, and nearly fainted when he saw what was left in his floor. your pink lacy panties, complete with a little wet patch, bundled up just for him.

“forgive me father,” he mumbled to himself, picking up the lace and tucking it into his nightstand, not even bothering to clean himself up before curling up and drifting off, his mind busy with thoughts of you.

[liquorflower]

cw: semi-public sex, cheating (?), kento with big, BIG HANDS, size difference, sex in photocopier.

thinking about private investigator nanami and how it was hired by your boyfriend to keep an eye on you. he does his job sooo well he pretends to be one of your co-workers.

everytime your boyfriend asked why he was taking so long to get information, he would answer: “she’s a really private person, sir. this is the first time I face something like this.” and he knows is pure bullshit.

how’s this poor thing (you) has to have such an asshole boyfriend?

as the sweetest person you are, you excuse him and tell he’s that way and you can’t change that...

but there’s discomfort in the fact your boyfriend may not be as good as you thought.

and you could realize that by the way nanami cared about every single thing of you. information he would keep away from your jealous boyfriend,

just one touch to your puffy clit and he already knew how to drive you insane, you shudder at the contact of his fingers — thick and large... well, now you notice how imposing it is. you don’t know if it’s because of the small size of the room you’re in, but god... he’s gigantic compared to you.

“shh... we don’t want anyone lurking around here, do we?” he coos at your ear and your moans drown at the palm of his hand.

your face, all flustered, leaving his hand full of saliva with each whine you try to suppress while he’s teasing your sensitive clit and you can feel the aching cock pulsating, fluttering between his pants.

when he places your leg on the edge of the photocopier, he sees your pussy, all exposed, damped in your juices, and then, letting out his length, he fits it perfectly into your sloppy pussy. you open your eyes wide big and immediately placing your tiny hand in your mouth, but fuck, he replaces it with his hand and whilst the other hand is clasping your ass, the other one plays inside your mouth and in the most obscene way, you suck at his fingers with every thrust.

“yeah, you like that, sweetheart.” he also stammers, almost wanting to fall apart.“we’ll keep this secret soo well.”

[billiesbabygirleilish]

Billie and the reader have been friends since childhood and Billie has a huge Crush on the reader but the reader has a boyfriend her boyfriend is like super possessive and abusive like won’t really let the reader go anywhere without him and doesn’t like when the reader hangs out with Billie because he know that Billie likes the reader

Billie and her family/friends know that the reader is being abused but every time that try to talk to the reader she always brush it off and tells that they are over reacting and she’s fine one day the reader is hanging out with Billie while her boyfriend is out boyfriend come home and see Billie after Billie leaves the reader and her boyfriend get into a fight the reader the reader ends up going to Billie

I don’t know how to end this but Billie and the reader end up together

Fractured Love

⚠️Mentions of abuse/abusive relationship. Please don’t interact with this post if these themes make you uncomfortable⚠️

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╰.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*╯ The scent of lavender and old books always calmed you. Billie’s childhood bedroom, with its mismatched posters and overflowing bookshelves, was your safe haven. You stretched out on her bed, absently tracing the pattern on the worn quilt while Billie fiddled with her ukulele in the corner. 

“He’s out of town for the weekend,” you said, trying to sound casual, but the tightness in your chest betrayed you. “Said he had to… help his dad with something.”

Billie strummed a discordant chord. "Right. ‘Help his dad.’ Like he ever does anything remotely helpful." She didn’t look up, but you knew what she was thinking. You knew everyone knew. The strained smiles, the subtle glances, the way Maggie hovered a little too close whenever Liam, your boyfriend, was around – it was all a silent testament to what they saw happening to you.

“He just gets… jealous,” you mumbled, twisting a stray thread on the quilt. “He just cares about me.”

Billie’s head snapped up, her blue eyes flashing. “Caring doesn’t look like telling you who you can and can’t see, who you can and can't talk to. Caring doesn't look like…” she trailed off, her jaw clenched.

You rushed to fill the uncomfortable silence. "It's not that bad, Billie. You guys are just overreacting." You forced a laugh, though your voice wobbled. “I’m fine.”

Billie slammed the ukulele down on the floor, the sound reverberating through the small room. "God, why do you do this? We just want you safe! He’s isolating you, (Your name), are you blind?"

You flinched. “Don’t yell,” you whispered, your voice catching.

Billie’s anger deflated, replaced by a deep, aching worry. She sat beside you on the bed, her hand hovering over yours. She didn't touch you. Not anymore. Not since Liam had made his feelings about your friendship with Billie crystal clear, with words that still echoed in your head.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "Just… I hate seeing him control you like this. You’re not fine. You haven’t been fine for months." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a small, smooth stone, a piece of sea glass she'd found on the beach. "I… I brought this for you. Said it reminded me of your eyes."

You took the sea glass, its cool surface soothing against your palm. "Thank you, Billie."

Later that afternoon, Billie walked you to your door. As you were unlocking it, Liam’s car pulled up to the curb. He’d come home early.

“Hey,” he said, his voice clipped. He glared at Billie as he approached. “What’s she doing here?”

“Just… hanging out,” you stammered.

“She knows you’re busy. She knows you’re with me.” His eyes narrowed. “Does she even have any respect?”

Billie’s jaw tightened. "I was just leaving," she said, her voice even, but you could see the tension in her shoulders.

As Billie turned and walked away, Liam grabbed your arm, yanking you inside the apartment. The door slammed shut behind you. It wasn't the first time you had been dragged inside. It wasn't the only form of abuse you had endured from him.

The argument started small, a simmering resentment bubbling to the surface. But it quickly escalated, his words sharp and cruel, his grip on your arm painful. You tried to reason with him, to appease him, but nothing worked. He accused you of lying, of flirting, of… who knew what else. Your voice rose as you fought back, tears streaming down your face.

"Just leave me alone!" you finally screamed, pushing him away.

He recoiled, his face contorted with a rage that frightened you. "You think anyone else will want you? You think Billie gives a damn about you? She's just… using you. Playing you for a fool."

The words cut deep, even though you knew they weren't true. The anger drained out of you, leaving you hollow and trembling. You couldn't breathe.

"I'm going to be sick," you choked out, pushing past him.

He let you go, and you stumbled out of the apartment, running blindly until you reached the familiar haven of Billie’s house.

You pounded on the door, tears streaming down your face. Maggie opened it, her expression immediately softening when she saw you.

"Oh, honey," she murmured, drawing you into a hug. "Come in, come in."

She led you to the living room, where Billie, Patrick, Finneas, and Claudia sat, their faces etched with concern. You collapsed on the couch, sobbing uncontrollably.

Billie knelt beside you, her hand finally finding yours. Her touch was grounding, a lifeline in the storm. "What happened?" she asked softly, her voice laced with worry.

You told them everything. The possessive control, the constant criticism, the outbursts, the fear that had become your constant companion. You spoke through sobs, the words tumbling out in a torrent of pain and relief.

When you were finally done, the room was silent. Finneas squeezed Claudia's hand, his face dark. Patrick just nodded, his eyes filled with a quiet fury. Maggie sat beside you, stroking your hair.

Billie’s grip on your hand tightened. “You don’t have to go back there, you know.”

You looked at her, your eyes red and swollen. “But… where else would I go?”

Billie hesitated for a moment, then met your gaze with unwavering intensity. "You can stay here. With us. We'll protect you."

The offer hung in the air, a glimmer of hope in the darkness. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. Leaving Liam meant stepping into the unknown, but staying meant… more of the same.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Okay, I'll stay."

The next few weeks were a blur of healing. Maggie’s gentle care, Patrick’s quiet strength, Finneas and Claudia’s unwavering support – they all helped you piece yourself back together. You started therapy, learning to recognize the signs of abuse and to rebuild your shattered self-esteem.

But it was Billie who made the biggest difference. She was there for you, always, a constant presence in your life. Late-night talks under the stars, walks along the beach, quiet moments spent reading together in her room – she created a safe space for you to be yourself, to laugh, to cry, to simply exist without fear.

One evening, as you sat on Billie’s bed, listening to her strum a new song on her ukulele, you realized something had shifted. The fear was still there, a lingering shadow, but it was no longer the defining force in your life. You were starting to see yourself again, to remember the person you were before Liam had chipped away at your spirit.

Billie finished the song, a soft melody with heartfelt lyrics about resilience and hope. She looked at you, her blue eyes filled with something that made your heart skip a beat.

"Do you… do you feel safe here?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "More than I've ever felt."

She reached out, gently cupping your cheek. "Me too," she whispered, her gaze locked on yours.

And then, she leaned in and kissed you. It was a soft, tentative kiss at first, but it quickly deepened, a rush of long-suppressed feelings finally breaking free. It was a kiss of comfort, of safety, of longing, of hope.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and trembling, you looked at Billie, and for the first time in a long time, you saw a future. A future free from fear, a future filled with love, a future where you could be yourself, completely and unapologetically.

It wasn’t a fairytale ending. There would still be challenges, still be healing to do. But you knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your soul, that you weren't alone anymore. You had Billie, her family, her friends - a whole world of love and support to guide you. And you knew, with equal certainty, that you were finally on the path to a life that was truly your own.

[marsdql]

yandere!jay headcanons!

Yandere!Jay who will pepper you with love—gentle kisses all over your face, soft whispers about how much he adores you, arms wrapped around you so tight it’s almost suffocating. He treats you like you’re the most precious thing in the world, like he can’t believe you’re his. “I love you so much, you know that? You’re my everything.” But the second he finds out you went out without telling him? That sweetness fades instantly. His jaw tightens, his smile drops, and his eyes darken. “Oh? You thought that was okay?” His voice is eerily calm, but the tension in the air is suffocating.

Yandere!Jay who suddenly gets cold and distant, leaving you to sit in uncomfortable silence as he processes the fact that you dared to go somewhere without his permission. His usual affectionate nature disappears, replaced by something much more dangerous.

Yandere!Jay who grabs your wrist just a little too tight, pulling you closer so you can see the sharp glint in his eyes. “Tell me, sweetheart. Who were you with?” He asks, his tone dripping with fake sweetness. The way he tilts his head would be charming—if it weren’t for the jealousy radiating off him.

Yandere!Jay who plays mind games, making you feel guilty for ‘hurting him.’ He sighs dramatically, running a hand through his hair as if he’s deeply wounded by your actions. “I just worry about you, you know? What if something happened? What if someone tried to take you from me?”

Yandere!Jay who won’t let this slide easily. If you don’t apologize properly, expect him to ignore you, leaving you desperate for his warmth again. And once you do apologize? He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Just don’t do it again, okay? I don’t like being mad at you.” But the warning in his voice is crystal clear—he won’t be so forgiving next time.

Yandere!Jay who spoils you like a princess—buying you expensive gifts, cooking your favorite food, and whispering sweet nothings in your ear while he holds you close. He loves seeing you happy… but only when it’s because of him.

Yandere!Jay who completely switches up the moment he finds out you went out without telling him. His fingers tighten around his phone as he reads your text. "Oh, so you went out?" His jaw clenches, and suddenly, his whole mood darkens.

Yandere!Jay who calls you immediately—his voice is eerily calm, but you can feel the tension through the phone. “Where are you? Who are you with?” His usual sweet tone is gone, replaced with something much colder.

Yandere!Jay who doesn’t believe your excuses. “You forgot to tell me? That’s cute. Try again.” His chuckle is low and humorless. He’s pissed, but he’s not going to explode just yet. No, he wants to see you squirm first.

Yandere!Jay who tells you to come home immediately. He doesn’t care if you’re in the middle of something—he wants you back where you belong. And if you take too long? Expect him to come get you himself.

Yandere!Jay who waits for you at the door, arms crossed, expression unreadable. The moment you step inside, he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “You must really enjoy testing me, huh?” His voice is low, his fingers just barely digging into your skin.

Yandere!Jay who suddenly pulls you into a suffocating hug—but it’s not comforting. It’s possessive. His lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “Do you have any idea how much I hate being away from you? How much it kills me when I don’t know where you are?”

Yandere!Jay who makes sure you learn your lesson. Maybe it’s keeping you trapped in his arms for hours, refusing to let go. Maybe it’s taking away your phone for the night so you “won’t be distracted.” Or maybe… it’s a quiet, lingering punishment. He won’t kiss you, won’t touch you—he’ll make you beg for his affection again.

Yandere!Jay who eventually forgives you—but not without a warning. He tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’re mine. You know that, right?” His lips ghost over yours before he finally kisses you, slow and deep, reminding you exactly who you belong to.

Yandere!Jay who smirks when you nod, pleased that you understand. “Good girl. Don’t make me do this again.” His tone is playful, but you know better. It’s not a request—it’s a threat wrapped in sugar.

[ @teddybeartaetae]

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀✸⠀⠀⠀𝓑eauty 𝓞f 𝓣his 𝓜ess⠀⠀┈⠀﹙⠀𝓒hapter 19⠀﹚⠀ა ︎ ﾞ .

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀summary.⠀atoning to his mistakes, miguel has been putting much dedication to you and the baby. he accompanies you to your next doctors appointment and find out the sex of your baby then head to the grocery store where you meet a friend.

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀content.⠀fluff, pregnancy, timeskip, mildly suggestive (mdni), ultrasounds, pet names, swearing, gender reveal, sweetheart miguel is back, mini jealous!miguel

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

everything has been different, in a good way.

in a very good way.

miguel has been working his ass off, keeping his promise to work for you and the baby, show you that he wants to be a part of this family. he has been doing everything, dedicating himself to you both. and by everything, he means everything. the man doesn’t really let you don’t much, even if you’re still in your first trimester barely beginning the second. you can still function and even told miguel that you’re fine but he heavily insisted you should not worry about anything but rest, for yourself and the baby. although, you did win somewhat of the argument about doing little things like taking luna out for walks like usual, passing him dishes since he would be washing them, doing and folding laundry.

if you’re craving something, no matter what time of the day or night, he’s getting it for you. during the middle of the night, you were craving ice cream but there wasn’t any in your fridge. miguel saw your face of disappointment as he entered the kitchen, since he heard you get out of bed. also, he’s been staying at your place, basically abandoned his own apartment. his excuse was he needed to be there for you. all of his belongings were brought over to your place, just clothes and bathroom necessities. the only time he would go back to his place was if he forgot something. miguel really didn’t have that much, not that he needed anything honestly. concern course through his body as he approached you and asked what was wrong. his heart melted at that cute pout when you said there was no ice cream. even melted more when that pout was replaced with a bright smile as he brought ice cream from the nearest convenient store. miguel would literally fight demons just to see that gorgeous smile.

every morning you always find him in the kitchen cooking breakfast. the man never let you touched the stove. even when you try sneaking to the kitchen to make yourself something, his baritone voice from behind startles you. no matter how much you plead or show off that cute pout of yours, miguel will gently tell you no and leave a kiss on your forehead then gently guide out of the kitchen so he can make whatever you wanted. he always find you grumpy utterly adorable. you can’t stay upset at him either, your heart always melt at his kindness in the end.

miguel also contributes to baby planning. remember when he fixed that crooked shelf of your bookshelf? the man decided to build a crib for the baby. no matter how many times you said he didn’t have to and suggested he should buy one so he didn’t have to go through the trouble, but miguel said it was his own apology to the baby. it was impossible for your heart to not flutter at that. although, it was super cute watching him craft and build the crib. standing by the doorway, admiring him with a soft smile. how dedicated and focus he was. especially when his muscles ripple as he maneuvered around. that tight shirt outlining his shoulders and biceps perfectly.

“enjoying the show, hermosa?”

his teasing snaps you out of trance and you just roll your eyes. “most definitely.”

that stupid cute smirk on his face kills you every time. even if he’s being a bit cocky, he still manages to make you a bashful mess.

throughout the day, you’ll offer him food and a drink during breaks which you encouraged. a grateful smile illustrated on his slightly sweaty face as he takes the late and glass from your hands. once the crib was built completely, you and miguel admire the cute little piece of furniture, handcrafted by the baby’s father. you adore it so much.

“i love it, miguel.” you smile up at him. “we love it.”

miguel’s heart leaps in his chest. he adored the ‘we’ part, he hopes the baby will love it when they get older and find out about its origins.

since he built it, you got to decorate it. although you don’t have a nursery since your apartment has one bedroom, you dedicated the small corner of your room as a tiny nursery. the theme is moon and stars with a neutral color scheme so it can accommodate either gender. everything you bought fits the theme, a soother toy for the crib, a few pillows, blankets, and a crescent moon plushie. all with the help of miguel.

a thin layer of tears of happiness swell in yours as you admire the cute tiny nursery for your baby. “i love it so much…” you let out a tiny sniffle.

miguel wraps an arm around you, gently brings you closer towards him in a loving embrace, and you lean into him like honey. “it’s beautiful.”

other baby planning is searching for necessities such as a stroller, a carseat, and diapers but you reassure him that your sister-in-law will give you all her baby stuff since her and your brother are done with kids after the third one and the kids are grown up. even some of your cousins offered to give you some of their baby stuff. at least your bank account won’t suffer. you’re grateful to have a supportive family and so is miguel. it’s truly a big help for you both.

beside baby planning, miguel has also been doing research about babies and parenting. not only the man is in the military and a basically a blue collar but also a major nerd. you would find him reading articles about babies and parenting on his phone. a big smile on his face as he tells you tips and facts. you find it adorable how invested he is. reading all that information makes him more excited about becoming a father. that smile says everything.

the man is basically your servant, expect you don’t want to think of him like that, he’s the man you still love and who’s trying his best to atone his mistakes.

because of his hard efforts and dedication, your relationship is rebuilding and becoming more secure. the trust you had for him is gradually coming back. the intense dedication impressed you undoubtedly. of course you knew miguel is a dedicated, hardworking, and committed man due to his military experience. but this was different, more heartfelt. you appreciate everything he has done for you. although forgiveness is appreciated, miguel is doing this because he wants to. becoming a part of this family and rebuilding his relationship with you are his main priorities. you and the baby are his priorities.

several weeks go by and you’re in your second trimester, which means you’re showing more. a more prominent but cute baby bump. miguel never got so emotional yet obsessed about something before. the first time he saw your slightly bigger pregnancy bump, tears swelled up in his eyes. the sight is utterly heartwarming and adorable. his baby is growing and resting peacefully in their beautiful mother’s belly, you. oh god you, you look adorable with the baby bump now that it’s more prominent. his heart flutters every time he sees you and how your bump sticks out in all your clothing, especially in dresses since you start disliking wearing anything else since dresses give you freedom. whatever you wear, even a goddamn trash bag, you’re still beautiful.

miguel is utterly mesmerized by you, he always is, but especially now with your pregnancy and also the miraculous works of the female body. he has always admired women, especially mothers because they sacrifice their bodies to create and nurture life. it was a miraculous thing. seeing you enduring the changes of pregnancy and creating life is so mesmerizing. your belly expanding to accommodate the little life growing inside you, your womb as their cocoon protecting them indefinitely. it’s just so beautiful.

the changes of pregnancy also made him a little wilder. miguel is already obsessed with you and adores you to infinity. but now you’re more rounder, plumper, and thicker, it drives him fucking crazy. the evidence of his seed is more prominent and it drives miguel wild. it’s unclear why but seeing you waddling around with that cute baby bump makes him feral. the effects of motherhood so looks fucking good on you. miguel couldn’t resist you before, now it’s been more impossible to. the man utterly down bad.

your thicker hips, swollen breasts filled with milk, gradually expanding belly. everything ignites a primal desire in him. you waddling around the apartment, doing just normal thing the like cooking, cleaning, reading, or simply just standing there, it makes him hard. you just look so fucking beautiful.

is it weird to get a boner from your pregnant girlfriend by absolutely doing nothing and just being pure innocent? maybe but that proves miguel’s utter adoration for you, how much he loves you.

since you’ve been ensuing many bodily changes, you’ve never felt so achy almost everywhere. back, boobs, belly, feet. thankfully you have a gentle giant by your side to provide you the best messages ever. miguel would relieve you of the achy feeling with gentle yet firm messages with those large, calloused hands of him that you love. rubbing out those twisted knots, making you softly sigh or moan in relief. he is the best stress reliever, in both meanings.

you know when the dads lift up the mom’s belly so she can be relieved of the baby weight?

yeah, miguel does that.

one day, you’re trying to pick out another book to read but the weight of the baby was bothering you. the groan you let out captured miguel’s attention as he was coming back from the bathroom.

“sientes mal, preciosa?” he approaches with a concern look on his face, leaving a hand on the small of your back and rubbing gently circles.

“this baby weight is driving me crazy.” you groan, leaning your forehead against the bookcase.

his heart aches at you feeling uncomfortable. he wishes he could do something, take it away. then, miguel remembers reading about lifting up the mom’s belly to relieve her of the weight.

“i… i have an idea that could help.”

“i’ll take anything.” you groan, shoulders slumped.

his hands rise up to your shoulders. “can you stand up for me?” his tone very so gentle.

letting out a sigh, you obey and stand up straight, leaning back from the bookshelf. your body jolts slightly in excitement when you feel miguel pressed up against you from behind.

“do you trust me?”

his question makes you turn to look up at him with slightly furrowed brows, as if he’s crazy to ask that because of course you trust him.

“always.”

his hands give your shoulders a gentle, loving squeeze before he guides you to turn back. your heart flutters when you feel his hands lower dow, sneak up to your swollen belly, and delicately holds it in his grasp. ever so slowly and delicately, miguel lifts up your belly. as he lifts it piece by piece, suddenly you feel the weight of it vanish.

“oh fuck—” instinctively, you close your eyes and tip your head back against his chest. a big wave of relief courses through you. it feels so amazing.

“how does it feel?” miguel asks softly, still holding your swollen belly with such delicacy.

“feels fucking amazing.” a loopy smile on your face makes him chuckle.

it truly does feeling fucking amazing. all that weight from the baby vanished. you feel very floaty and god do you want to feel like this forever.

miguel is happy to see you so relieved and content. that is all he wants to do.

“i know this is gonna sound weird as fuck but it feels like you got me pregnant again.”

your silly comment makes him laugh.

“i take it that you feel good right now.”

“fuck yeah. do this more often, please.”

he softly chuckles. “claro, mi amor.”

and miguel did do it often. if it means you’ll feel better and happy, he will do it forever.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ   ┈ ₊ ୧   ┈

it’s time for another visit to your OB and this time you’re not alone. miguel is accompanying you and you are so excited. he is as well, finally doing what he should’ve done beforehand. you knew he felt guilty about missing your first appointment but you reassure him that you’re happy he’s going this time and the next visits. but you both are mainly excited because you get to find out the sex of your baby. nether of you have preferences, only a healthy baby. however, it’s still something to be thrilled about.

you arrive at the clinic and check in with the receptionist, the same elderly lady who always greets you with a kind smile. her eyes widen a little due to miguel’s appearance but in a good way, greeting him the same smile which he returned one of his own. taking a seat, you and miguel wait patiently in the lobby. glancing around, there are variations of visitors. couples, some filling out paperwork, some scrolling through their phones, those alone. the women who are alone reminds you of your first visit. the loneliness and anxiety you felt that shitty day. no support by your side as you venture through that tough road. you were like them, all alone. although you don’t know their situation, you still sympathize for them. you wish them nothing but love and care.

but this time, you aren’t alone. beside you is the man you love dearly. the same man who is holding your hand, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. this time, you feel the support and love from your partner. miguel knows how much this means to you and will always be by your side. to this day, he still can’t believe he missed this and left you alone that day. the guilt still lingers, especially now, but he’s atoning to his mistake by being here with you and you can’t express enough how thankful you are. those thoughts makes you lean into him and rest your head on his arm. miguel quickly wraps his arm around your shoulders so your head rests on his chest and can embrace you properly.

“thank you for being here with me.” you whisper, resting a hand on your swollen belly.

“siempre, mi amor.” he gives your shoulder a loving squeeze and places a kiss on the top of your head.

you peek up at him, smiling. “you excited?”

“yeah, but also a bit nervous because… i never seen them before so…”

“i get it but trust me, it’s actually kinda fascinating to see them. i remember i was so fascinated seeing them for the first time, just a tiny blob inside. it was super weird but cool. now it’s a bigger blob.”

he let out a soft chuckle. “well, i can’t wait to see this blob and know if they’re a boy or a girl.”

“me too.” you rub your swollen belly, mentally letting them know how excited you are to see them.

soon, your name is called. miguel helps lifting you up with his hands and you both follow the nurse to your OB’s office. she informs you both that dr. chelsea will meet you momentarily. miguel helps you once again sit down on the examination seat and holds onto your purse as he takes a seat beside you.

a few minutes later, a knock on the door alerts you that dr. chelsea has arrived. the blonde woman enters the room, greeting you with a smile before her expression contours into a surprised one when her eyes land on the abnormally large man beside you.

“oh hello, surprised guest.” the woman approached you both, still smiling. “are you—”

“this is miguel, the baby’s father.” you reveal.

her brows rise in surprised. “oh, wonderful. nice to meet you, miguel. i’m dr. chelsea.” she approaches and reaches out a hand to shake.

“likewise, dr. chelsea.” he quickly stands up and gently shakes her hand before sitting back down.

“i see things are improving.” a little smile on her face as she takes a seat near the monitor. she recalls from your first visit about the father’s absence.

“we’re doing great, actually.” you glance at miguel with a smile, truly meaning your words.

he mirrors your smile and gives your hand a loving squeeze which you reciprocate.

“i’m very glad to hear that.” the woman spares you both a smile, pleased to hear improvement. “alright, starting off, how are you feeling?”

“sore sometimes but this man helps me out. other than that, just turning into a balloon.”

“i give her massages.” he smiles sheepishly.

she chuckles while typing away on the keyboard. “good, she’ll need those for a while.” she spares a grin at miguel then looks back at the screen. “no abnormal pain or anything?”

“no, thankfully.” you feel miguel squeeze your hand once again, a mutual feeling.

“good, good.” scooting away from the monitor and turn towards you, she clasp her hands together excitedly with a smile. “alright, you both ready to find out the sex of your baby?”

you and miguel share a glance, smiling at one another before nodding.

you turn back to the doctor. “we are!”

once you’re prepared, the ultrasound begins. yours and miguel’s eyes are trained on the screen as dr. chelsea maneuvers around to find out your baby’s sex. miguel lets out a soft gasp when the baby comes into the picture. a black and white blob on the monitor, it’s heartbeat echoing through the room. his heart raced in his chest the longer he stares, completely fascinated and enamored by seeing his baby for the first time. you were right, it is oddly satisfying. he feels your grip on his hand tightens a little as the anticipation grows stronger.

a smile crept onto the doctor’s face. “well, congratulations, you two. you’re having a baby girl.”

both your hearts skip a beat at the reveal.

a girl.

you’re having a girl.

tears swell in your eyes as you admire your baby girl in the monitor before quickly turning to look at miguel, who has tears of his own.

“we’re having a girl.” you say with teary eyes of joy.

waves of emotions hit miguel like a tsunami. happiness, shock, anxiousness. he is going to have a daughter. he is going to be a father to a girl. for some reason, he feels more emotional about this. having a daughter feels more… emotional.

a sudden wave of motivation courses through him. motivation to become the best father for his baby girl. motivation to try his best for his baby girl.

now he has two girls to take care of.

his two girls, you and his daughter.

never has miguel felt much happiness. of course you make him happy. this is another type of happiness yet you are part of the reason.

“we’re having a girl.” he repeats back to you, smiling at you through teary eyes as well.

you don’t hesitate to pull him into a tight, loving entrance as you both break into happy tears. an intimate and emotional moment while celebrating the news of your baby, a daughter.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ   ┈ ₊ ୧   ┈

to celebrate the big news, you decide to get ice cream. you and miguel head over to the grocery store, not only for the ice cream but groceries in general since you need milk, eggs, and other things. miguel pushes the cart while you venture through the store, keeping a hand on your swollen belly while wandering around. a gleeful smile graces your face as you arrive at the ice cream aisle and pick out your favorite flavor, which miguel finds it adorable.

“does the baby want ice cream or you?” he can’t help but ask, grinning like an idiot.

“both.” you flash him a gleeful smile and place the ice cream container in the cart.

“i gotta use the restroom, i’ll be back, amor.” he quickly leaves a kiss on the top of your head.

“okay, also get chips on your way back, please!”

miguel nods as he walks away. at first, he didn’t want to leave you alone but his bladder was telling him it was about to burst. he knows you’ll be fine and can take care of yourself, it’s just protectiveness.

while wandering around and quickly grabbing lemonade from the fridge without looking, your hip bumps with the cart making it accidentally bump into someone else. it was a light bump but it still startled you a little and caused you to panic.

“oh shit, i’m sorry!”

“it’s alright.”

you recognize that deep, rich baritone voice. your eyes widen in surprise at a familiar face.

“logan?”

a small smile graces his lips. “hey, sweetheart.”

you can’t hold back the smile forming on your lips. the same dark brown hair and those iconic sideburns. instead of a tux from last time, he wears a red flannel and dusty blue pair of jeans.

damn, he looks good as hell. undeniably so.

“hey! it’s a been long ass time.”

“sure has, that baby has gotten bigger.” he gestures at your much bigger baby bump.

instinctively, you rest a hand on your swollen belly. “yeah, she’s getting bigger.”

those thick brows rise, surprised. “she, huh?”

“yeah! just found out today.”

“well, congratulations, sweetheart. she’s gonna be beautiful just like her mother.”

that makes your cheeks warm. “still a charmer.”

logan shrugs, smirking. “just being honest.”

while conversing with logan, miguel returns with the bag of chips you requested. the smile on his face drops when he sees the man from wedding talking to you once again. the scene emits a frown on his face.

what the hell is that guy doing here?

how did he find you again?

flashbacks of the wedding reception plays in his mind. that same man talking to you and dancing with you. miguel remembers how jealous, angry and hurt he felt watching you with another man. at the time, you weren’t together and you hated his guts so you had the right to engage with whoever. but that didn’t mean his heart wouldn’t ache when you did.

but now things are different and you’re back together. not only he feels jealous, also slightly possessive since you’re together again so you are his and he’s yours, but miguel also feels a bit insecure.

he knows you love him. the way you smile at him, give him hugs, care for him are proof. however, he can’t ignore the doubts plaguing his mind.

what if he isn’t good enough for you like that guy?

what if you decide to be with that guy than him?

part of him still wants to beat the shit out of that guy for approaching you once again, don’t get him wrong. however, miguel can’t control who you talk to. you can talk to whoever you like, it’s your right and no one else’s because you’re your own person. everyone has their own right and freedom.

it’s just jealousy and insecurity.

with a sad sigh, miguel finally walks over to you. the bag of chips still in his hand. you notice him from your peripheral and immediately look at him with a smile, happy to see your man.

“hey.” you say softly.

“got your favorite.” he places the bag in the cart.

“thank you.” you reach out to grab his bicep and give it a loving squeeze, a sign of gratitude.

logan, on the other hand, is taken aback by miguel’s presence. especially when he recognizes him from the wedding who got pissed off by the waiter and believed he was a total asshole for his attitude. his eyes shifted between you and miguel, thinking.

“oh! miguel, this is logan from peter’s and mj’s wedding. logan, this is miguel, the baby’s father—”

“her boyfriend.” miguel cuts in, a slightly stern look in his eyes as he holds out his hand to shake.

logan hums, concealing his surprise that miguel is the father but doesn’t comment on that and shakes miguel’s hand, which was a firm grip. “i remember you, parker’s best man.”

“we just happened to bump into each other again.” a soft chuckle leaves your lips.

“that’s our motto, i guess.” logan said.

“hm.” is all miguel could say, crossing his arms over his chest. he tries to not let that ‘our’ bother him but it does a little. although, he is trying to be civil.

you notice miguel’s behavior, sensing the jealousy. you feel bad for him. you recall the last time he saw you with logan and how upset he was. this time is different now you’re together again and you want to reassure him that you love him and only him. on the way home, you plan on showering him with love.

to make him feel better, you wrap your arm around his so they’re linked together and lean into him. the movement makes his heart skip a beat.

you turn to logan. “how’s construction going?”

logan shrugs nonchalantly. “it’s going alright, we’re almost finished with the last part of it actually.”

“oh wow! that’s great!”

that peaks miguel’s interest. “you’re in construction?”

logan’s eyes move up to him. “yep, wolverine constructions, family owned.”

those thick eyebrows rise in surprised. “wolverine constructions, your company built alchemax.”

the shorter male nods, crossing his arms. “it was a bitch to built but it came out decent.”

“my father is the ceo. the building turned out great.”

now logan is the one surprised. “well, your old man paid us a pretty big ass load.”

before you even know it, the two men are engaging in a conversation, babbling about construction. you remember miguel’s hobby of building things so it made the conversation more interesting. it’s nice to see them bonding. part of you was worried they would get at each other’s necks but thankfully they were simply bonding over similar interests.

miguel’s perspective of logan changed. he knew he didn’t seem like a bad guy, it was just jealousy. turns out logan is a pretty decent hardworking guy. logan shares similar thoughts about miguel as well.

perhaps a new friendship.

after enough chitchatting about construction, you and miguel bid logan farewell. he offers miguel one final handshake and you a smile before walking away, leaving you and miguel alone like before.

“he’s a decent guy.” he states.

a pleases smile on your face. “he is and i’m glad you two had a cute geeking out moment.”

miguel rolls his eyes. “we weren’t geeking out.”

you scoff. “you literally looked like little kids talking about your favorite superhero.”

another eye roll but he smiles this time. “tonta.” he ruffles your hair teasingly, making you squeal. “vamos, amor. we don’t want the ice cream to melt.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ   ┈ ₊ ୧   ┈

you and miguel return home, your apartment since miguel is basically living with you. on the way to your apartment, you didn’t carry a single thing. miguel’s hands were filled with plastic bags. no matter how many times you protested about at least carrying one bag, miguel wouldn’t even let you touch them.

“you’re already carrying our daughter, you’re not carrying anything else.” he plants a kiss on your forehead, adoring that cute pout of yours.

while miguel puts away the groceries, you head to the bathroom to slip out of your dress and put on a nightgown to feel more comfy. entering the kitchen, your boyfriend welcomes you back with a smile.

“quieres takeout?” his smile widens when he sees your eyes sparkle in excitement.

“yes, please! we’re craving chinese, actually.”

“like mother, like daughter.” miguel walks up to you and gently place his hands on your baby bump.

“great minds think alike.”

once miguel ordered takeout and it arrives not too long afterwards, you both sit at the couch making munching on the food while watching ‘impractical jokers,’ which was your request.

miguel tries to focus on the show but his mind takes him somewhere else, right back to those doubts from earlier at the grocery store. while observing you talk with logan from afar, miguel felt a mixture of feelings. jealousy, insecurity, and sadness. you seemed so pleased to be talking with logan. how brightly you smile at him, making miguel’s heart ache with jealousy and hurt.

what did logan had that miguel didn’t?

ever since he returned, miguel felt so undeserving of you. but now seeing with another man who makes you smile like that, oh he felt really undeserving.

what if you’re better off with logan who is a good man than a broken, traumatized man like himself?

logan didn’t break your heart and abandoned you like he did. logan didn’t make you cry for endless weeks like he did. logan didn’t hurt you like he did.

you notice how deep he was in his thoughts by the frown on his face, brows furrowed and slightly hunched over. also how tightly his gripping the small box of chow mein to the point of almost bursting.

“miguel?” you place a gentle hand on his shoulder, making him snap out of those negative thoughts.

he turns and looks down at you in surprise, realizing he was too deep in those damn thoughts.

“you okay?” your voice laced with concern.

damnit, he really was overthinking too deep to the point of making your worry.

a sigh escapes his lips. “yeah… perdón, preciosa.”

your brows furrowed. “you sure?”

“yeah, don’t worry.”

he’s lying and you know it. there is something bothering him and you want to help him, encourage him to tell you so you can help him.

placing down your food on the coffee table, you turn to face him better. “miguel… something’s bothering you. you can tell me, please?…”

shit, you know him so well. now he can’t back out, not with that sweet tone of yours.

he places down his food beside yours on the coffee before tanning a hand through his hair and signing. “it’s stupid but… i remember how happy you were talking to logan and… what am i saying?…” miguel looks away, feeling frustrated with himself.

miguel relaxes when he feels your hand on his forearm, your soft touch always does. you wait patiently for him to figure out his words, a silent message that it was okay and you’re here for him.

“just seeing you so happy with him… i feel like i don’t make you feel happy the way he does…” another sigh falls from his lips. “he’s a better man than me and i feel like i don’t deserve you, i’m not good enough.”

your heart shatters at that. it’s understandable why he feels this way, you want to wish away those doubts and pull him into your arms. ever so gently, your hands come up to cup his face and miguel looks at you with puppy eyes that melts your heart.

“you are enough, miguel.” you say softly but sincerely. “i understand why you feel like this and i’m gonna tell you that i love you. there’s only one man that i love and i’m looking right at him.”

back at the grocery store, you told logan that you and miguel, the baby’s father since he didn’t know his yet, are back together so you told logan that you wanted to remain friends and he had no problem with that. ever so understanding man.

miguel can’t prevent the tears prickling in his eyes as he looks at you with utter adoration.

“everything you’ve been doing for us, for this family, i’m forever fucking grateful. that is dedication and commitment, miguel. you’re doing a fucking amazing job and we love you for it. i’ll say this and remind you everyday, you are enough and i love you.”

a single tear trials down his cheek, which you tenderly wipe with your thumb.

you’re so fucking beautiful.

how did he obtain an angel?

his hands lay on top of yours as he close his eyes and rest his forehead against yours. you stay like that until you lean closer and press your lips on his.

your first kiss in what feels like an eternity.

miguel doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate, kissing you with pure adoration. god he missed your soft lips so much. an addictive taste that leaves him wanting for more. he just wants to kiss you forever.

the kiss continues until you gasp when you feel a kick in your stomach, startling you a little.

miguel’s eyes widen in concern. “amor, qué paso? are you hurt? is it the baby?” he expects a cry of pain but instead your lips curl up into a big grin, making him confused. “amor, what hap—”

“she kicked.” you grin.

those brown eyes instinctively glance down at your swollen belly then back up to your eyes. “wait really?” now, he had a grin too.

“yeah! look!” you grab his left hand and place it on your belly. another kick, right against his palm.

“she kicked!” miguel repeats excitedly.

both of you laugh in excitement. your baby girl kicked for the first time, she is communicating with you. perhaps the kiss got her excited.

your lips collide once again and you feel another kick, making you and miguel laugh.

those doubts he had earlier vanished completely. you love him and miguel loves you, as well as your unborn daughter that he’s excited to meet. he has his family and miguel will not ever let go of you both.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @lovehadlovelost @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @asterrrrose @glossygreene @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer @wasitforrevenge @webshoootrz @f1-hoff @chaeriescola @espressopatronum454 @trocaderoisyummy @totallygyomeiswife @mcmiracles @celestialgarden23 @tatatida @whdhjfjvjvjfjdhsj @nocturne-light @xenop0p @juneonhoth @ghostsdoll @marshmallowsforever @ibelyss @imissubaee ( if you’re not tagged, age/age-range is require since this fic is 18+, context for reasons why )

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[pukefactory]

Hello! Haha it's my first time in this blog and I love it so far! I love your hcs! I'm sorry if this is too specific of a request but Would you do one of Sprout X GN reader.

How would he react to a reader that used to be fun loving and silly become more Short tempered, and depressed when Garden view shut down? They've been isolating themselves out of fear they'll blow up at him.

If not any general hcs for him is also fine!

Hey, thank you so much for your kind words, Anon! I’m truly grateful that you and others enjoy my blog. Don’t worry—your request isn’t too specific at all, and I appreciate you providing such a clear prompt. I hope this meets your expectations!

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊ DEAD MALL ₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

✶ Summary: A compilation of headcanons featuring Sprout helping a melancholic reader

✶ Character(s): Sprout Seedly (Dandy’s World)

✶ Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, Angst, SFW

✶ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

✸ Sprout noticed the shift in your demeanor almost immediately. At first, he chalked it up to stress—after all, everyone was struggling with Gardenview’s shutdown in their own way. But as time passed, your usual playful energy remained absent, replaced by a lingering frustration that made you feel like a completely different person. It wasn’t just that you were quieter; you were angrier. It worried him more than he was willing to admit.

✸ He’s never been one for dancing around a problem, so when your mood didn’t improve, he confronted you about it directly. He didn’t mean to be pushy, but his concern overpowered any hesitation. “Something’s wrong,” he stated firmly, arms crossed as he stood in front of the opening to your room. “Talk to me.” Even when you tried to brush him off, he stood his ground, refusing to let you isolate yourself any longer.

✸ The first time you snapped at him, it caught him off guard. You hadn’t meant to, but the frustration had been building for so long that it slipped out before you could stop it. His expression faltered for just a second—just long enough for guilt to settle deep in your chest. But instead of arguing back, he exhaled sharply and took a step closer. “That’s not gonna scare me away,” he muttered, softer than usual.

✸ Sprout isn’t the best with words, but he is persistent. When you started isolating yourself, he made it his personal mission to check in every day—whether you liked it or not. If you wouldn’t come out of your room, he’d sit outside the door, chatting about whatever came to mind. “I tried a new pie recipe with Cosmo today. I think I messed up the crust, but he said it was still good. You would’ve liked it.” His voice was casual, but his meaning was clear: I miss you.

✸ He knew you were afraid of snapping at him again, but that wasn’t something he cared about. “I can handle you being mad,” he told you one night, his gaze unwavering. “What I can’t handle is you acting like I don’t exist.” It was the closest thing to vulnerability he’d been in a while, but if being honest was the only way to get through to you, then he’d rip his heart open as many times as it took.

✸ Despite his pushiness, Sprout never forced you to talk before you were ready. Instead, he found small ways to remind you that he wasn’t going anywhere. A freshly baked pastry left outside your room. A soft knock, followed by a quiet, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you want company.” No expectations, no pressure—just the promise that he was always within reach.

✸ When you finally started opening up again, it wasn’t a grand confession—it was a quiet, exhausted whisper as you sat beside him on one of the dining tables. “I just don’t want to say something I’ll regret.” He didn’t respond right away, just studied you for a long moment before finally murmuring, “Then I’ll just have to be patient, won’t I?” His usual bluntness was still there, but there was something softer beneath it, something only you got to see.

✸ As your mood slowly improved, he adjusted in kind. When you hesitated to reach out, he’d grab your hand first, squeezing it reassuringly. If you got frustrated and started spiraling, he’d guide you to the kitchen with a casual, “Help me bake something. You’re way better at kneading dough than I am.” Distractions, support, presence—he wasn’t always good with words, but he was good at being there.

✸ One of the few times you truly broke down, he didn’t hesitate. He let you cling to him, gripping the fabric of his scarf as sobs wracked your body. He didn’t try to shush you or tell you to calm down—he just held you, rubbing slow circles into your back. “You don’t have to act fine around me,” he murmured, voice steady despite the tightness in his chest. “You don’t have to pretend.”

✸ Over time, things got better. You weren’t the same toon you had been before Gardenview shut down, but you weren’t alone in that. Sprout had changed too—he had grown alongside you, adapting to your struggles without ever once making you feel like a burden. And through all of it, through every high and low, one thing had remained constant: he had never left your side.

[soneybeee]

Prim & Proper

Summary: Frat!Rafe sees a new face at one of the parties thrown by his fraternity. That girl from his stupid philosophy class.

Frat!Rafe x Fem!Reader <3

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, kinda dubcon? (reader absolutely wants everything but Rafe doesn't really give her a chance to say it out loud), 18+ please :]. Alcohol consumption. Minimal, badly written plot. Dom!Rafe x sub!reader, virgin!reader, very slight corruption + innocence kink, loss of virginity (it's not very romantic lol), kinda primal play?, public + outside sex, slight overstim, dirty talk, unprotected PIV (please use protection!), creampie, choking, biting, marking, reader sucks + gags on Rafe's fingers, fingering (F receiving), let me know if I missed any!

If it was up to you, it would be a frigid, icy day in Hell before you ever stepped foot in this building. But, alas, you have the backbone of an invertebrate - which is to say, you don’t have one.

A guy is leaning into you, his hand on the wall next to you, holding him up as he whispers in your ear. You’re pretty sure he’s in your math class, his name something like Jacob or Noah, something biblical, but he sure as hell doesn’t recognize you. He wouldn’t be doing this if he did. You guess you can’t blame him for it - Jenna made sure you looked very different than your everyday. She all but tied you to a chair, forcibly curled your hair, and did your makeup. You used to do these things all the time in high school, but college is a fresh start, and that means fresh priorities. Education! Education is wonderful and valuable and you want to dedicate the next four years to nothing but education! 

Jenna said “fuck that” and now you’re here, under the arm of Abraham or David, wearing a dress even sluttier than one you would’ve worn to homecoming junior year. 

You take a sip of whatever godawful combination of alcohol and juice is in your red solo cup. It makes your face scrunch and your eyes twitch with annoyance.

Fuck fraternities, especially Sigma Chi or Omega Pi, or wherever the hell you are right now.

Rafe is in a similar and yet very different situation. He has a pretty girl, he thinks she might be in a sorority but he’s not sure, dancing and giggling all over him. But he’s only looking at you, his eyes squinted in your direction as he tries to make his inebriated brain remember where he’s seen your face before. Your pretty, bored face. 

You look so clean, even though your eyes are rolling and you’re taking the vodka in your cup like a pro. Rafe would’ve loved to just fuck the girl dancing on him, kick her out in the morning, and move on with his life. Instead, he finds himself walking over to you.

Elijah or Joseph fucks off pretty quickly when he sees Rafe approaching. Maybe he thinks you’re one of Rafe’s many hookups or his sister or maybe he’s just really scared of Rafe. You don’t know. You don’t know if you should be grateful that Gabriel or Jeremiah is gone or if you should be annoyed that Rafe has replaced him.

“Haven’t seen you before.” He murmurs, his hand finding your hip like you’re his girlfriend or something. Pulling away is an impossible task - He just keeps grabbing you again. 

“You have,” You turn your head away when he leans down to kiss your jaw. What the fuck is he trying to do? Is this how he greets people? “We’re in the same philosophy class.”

“Mm… Pretty sure I’d recognize such a pretty face.” His eyes flick from feature to feature, roving over your face with a sense of familiarity. You roll your eyes again, and that only makes it worse. Both his groping and the look in his eyes. One hand grabs your ass. “And such a nice ass.”

Oh, this brings you back, doesn’t it? It’s just like senior year prom! Except instead of your boyfriend, it’s some random frat boy. And instead of telling him to keep his hands to himself, you’re starting to enjoy the touch.

“Y/N.” You tell him, wondering if he knows your name from class or just truly doesn’t recognize a thing about you. 

Oh. You see the recognition in his eyes.

“Y/N.” He echoes, smiling like you’re an old friend. He grabs a handful of your tits.

“Hey,” You flush, trying halfheartedly to squirm away from him. It only makes him more encouraged, big hands grabbing and squishing flesh like he owns it. He’d like to.

“Philosophy, huh?” He kisses your earlobe, catching the golden earring between his teeth for just a second. “Pointless fuckin’ class. Hate the professor.”

Your disagreement is met only with featherlight kisses along your jaw. He keeps it up until your words fade into breathless babbling, and then he pushes his hand into your hair and forces you to look up at him.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, Y/N.” He bites your cheek until you flinch away, an evil little chuckle following right after. He gets the feeling, just by looking at you, that no one’s ever done this to you before. It makes a twisted, predatory sense of enjoyment flood his system. “You wanna leave?”

You’re not sure if he means leave with him or leave him, but you nod anyway. 

“If I give you a headstart,” A bite on your jaw. “How far do you think you could get?”

It’s a difficult question to answer. If you’re running, you could make it to your dorm. If you’re walking, waiting to get caught, you’re not sure you could make it around the corner. 

“Not far.” You whimper, sighing as he bites down harshly on your neck, smoothing his tongue over the sore skin right after. 

“Good,” It’s more a purr than a word. “How’s ten seconds sound? Fair?”

You get the feeling you’re not supposed to answer. Instead, you take a deep breath and pull away from him. You don’t look back, wading your way through the crowd and counting under your breath so you know how much time you have left.

At four seconds, you open the door.

At seven, you make it outside. 

At ten, you’ve barely made it down the stairs.

Being out on campus at night has always freaked you out. You’ve watched one too many Dateline episodes to leave yourself so vulnerable like this - Drunk, half-naked, not looking behind you. 

You’re still counting even though your headstart is over. It’s twenty seconds when you duck behind the fraternity building, breathing hard and fast and holding a hand over your heart. You feel like an antelope, a lion hot on your tail, his claws on your legs, his hot breath on your skin. Your nervous system apparently can’t tell this is a voluntary chase. Your palms are sweaty, you’re shaking, your heart is racing. Your eyes shut and you try to calm down.

And then someone grabs your upper arms, holding them bruisingly tight.

“Found you…” Rafe whispers, his mouth back on your neck like no time has passed. Barely any has. 

You gasp and instinctively try to wriggle out of his hold, but he doesn’t give you an inch. He pulls your hair to line your lips up with his, and then he kisses you. Harder, rougher, than you’ve ever been kissed. He kisses with expertise, but that doesn’t surprise you - What does surprise you is the way he finds pleasure in your clumsiness. He groans when your teeth brush his lips. His hips jerk when you tilt your head the wrong way. 

His hand absentmindedly wraps around your throat, squeezing in a pulsing rhythm that makes your head feel fuzzy. Rafe’s cock twitches in his pants when you squeak, your jaw dropping open uselessly. He stops kissing your lips, pulling back to admire the face you’re making as he chokes you.

“Oh, that’s it,” He growls, roughly pushing you up against the wall behind you. He keeps you there by your throat and by a thigh that he slots between yours. His free hand pushes your dress up until it bunches around your hips. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl…”

“Rafe…” You whine, squirming and rubbing yourself against his knee.

The hand on your throat squeezes one more time before it moves up to press against your mouth, his salty palm keeping you from making any more noise.

“Shut up.” He’s undoing his belt with one hand. It makes your pulse spike. 

He catches himself, leaving his belt in the loops. His hand moves to your panties, lacy and white, warm and wet. He presses the pad of his middle finger into the damp cotton, slowly dragging it back and forth.

The helplessness you feel is strangely pleasurable. You can’t do anything but squirm, whimper muffled little cries into his palm, and dig your nails into his biceps. They flex under your hands.

“Shh,” He growls again, pressing his thigh into yours to keep you still. “Hold still.”

There’s nothing you can do but comply, your eyes fluttering shut with reluctant obedience. He takes it as a sign that you’re more than ready for more, pulling your sticky panties out of the way with his thumb. His middle finger collects your wetness, spreading it up towards your clit, parting your lips to make space for his ring finger.

“Think we can start with two?” You can’t answer. Even if you could, he wouldn’t take a no. He coats his fingers in your slickness and prods at your hole. “She gonna let me in?”

Oh, yeah, she is. It’s a stretch for you and a fight for him, but he pushes them both in. His fingers are almost uncomfortably thick, much thicker than yours. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” He groans as if it’s his cock inside you and not his fingers, panting as he scissors you open. He pumps them into you, hooking them to nudge against that spongy spot inside you. Your knees go weak. “There we go…” 

You’re practically squealing as he begins repeating the same movement - You’ve never made a sound like this before in your life. It’s embarrassing and makes your face feel hot, but it’s nothing compared to the heat pooling in your stomach. It’s almost nauseating how tightly your stomach has knotted itself. 

More wet gushes onto his fingers as you clench around them. 

“Mm… Y’like this, huh?” Rafe attaches his lips to your neck, ducking his head under his arm to reach your skin. He doesn’t need, or want, a response from you. He’s more than happy to keep talking to himself. “So wet… S’all this for me?” 

You’ve never been fingered before. You almost let a boyfriend do it once, but you chickened out. The most you’ve ever had inside of you is your own fingers and, only a few times, the handle of a hairbrush. Neither of those can compare to this - It’s like Rafe can see straight through your skin and see your G-spot. 

“Ah, ah… there it is…” He coos, holding you up as you thrash, your back arching and legs trembling with an orgasm. It’s difficult for you to make yourself come, but here he is, doing it like it’s nothing. “That’s my girl…”

You shakily push his hand away when the overstimulation starts to hit you. He laughs and catches your wrist, his other hand releasing your mouth to grab the other one. 

“Rafe-”

“Shut up,” He puts both your wrists into his left hand, his right one coming up to your mouth. His middle and ring fingers push past your lips. “There we go. Clean ‘em for me, Y/N.”

Yeah, that shuts you up. You close your eyes and suck on his fingers, tasting yourself and his salty skin.

“Good girl.” He pulls them out of your mouth, wipes the spit off on your dress, and finally pulls his belt from its loops.

You squirm. “I-I don’t know if-”

“If what?” He asks as if he didn’t interrupt you. He drops his belt onto the ground and pops open the button on his jeans. “If this is a good idea? If you can take it? Too fuckin’ bad.”

That shuts you up again. But it’s not like you really want to complain anyway.

“I’m a virgin.” You whisper, instead. That catches him off guard. His head falls forward and he has to support himself by putting a hand on the wall.

“Shit, you are?”

“Mhm…”

He groans. “Shit… Fuck… Oh, I’m gonna ruin you…”

Maybe he is. He collects himself and turns you around, using his hand as a barrier so he’s not shoving your cheek into the wall. Your dress is already hiked up and you’re plenty wet, so nothing is stopping him from pushing into you once he’s lined up. 

Just the tip, at first. “Fuckin’ virgin pussy… Jesus Christ…” 

You gasp. He pushes in further, breathing down the back of your neck. Your back is at an awkward angle, everything vertical until your ass, which is pushed out for him. He’s big, definitely bigger than the handle of any hairbrush you’ve ever seen. Even your orgasm wasn’t quite enough to prepare you for it all.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” Rafe growls into your hair, pressing himself further into you. “It’s insane… Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight…”

“Rafe…” You pant, pussy pulsing around his cock.

“Oh, shush, baby,” He suddenly thrusts all the way in, shuddering as you cry out. “You’re so fuckin’ dramatic… It feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nod mindlessly, mouth hanging open and legs shaking. You’d be on the ground if he wasn’t holding you up. 

“Thought so…” He smirks, biting down where your neck and shoulder meet. He only bites harder when you try to pull away, using your shoulder to keep himself quiet as he sets his pace, only pulling out halfway before thrusting back in. “Y’feel too good, baby… I can’t even pull out all the way…”

“Rafe…” You whine.

“Shhh…” He pushes his fingers into your mouth again. “Fuck… I’m gonna cum in you, ‘kay, babe?” 

You give a halfhearted attempt at a disagreement, only because it’s the sensible thing to do. No one would say yes to that without a little fight, right? He shoves his fingers further down your throat until you gag. 

“I thought you’d say yes,” He murmurs before biting your shoulder again. He speeds himself up, humping into your pussy instead of giving proper thrusts. “Gonna get this virgin pussy filled with cum, aren’t you?”

You moan around his fingers. His hips stutter.

“Yeah, you are…” He kisses the teeth-shaped indents on your skin. 

He moves his free hand down to your hip, digging his nails into your skin and holding you in place as he fucks you. He already made you come, and he’s feeling a little selfish at the moment, so he uses you solely to get himself off, rambling in your ear about how good your pussy is, how pretty you are, how warm your mouth feels around his fingers. Your eyes are filled with tears, your body trembling on the brink of an orgasm, when he comes.

His jaw goes slack and his fingers press down onto your tongue, holding you tightly against him as he fucks his cum deeper inside you, flooding your cunt with his warmth. 

Just the thought of him filling you with cum makes you shudder, let alone the actual feeling of it. You clench around his cock as you tip over the edge again, sobbing around his fingers. You try to push his slowing hips away when you come down.

“Hold on, I’m gettin’ there,” He huffs, pushing your hands away. He slows to a stop and carefully pulls out, quickly putting your panties back into place to catch any cum that might bubble out of your hole. He pulls your dress down and gives your ass a finishing tap. “There we go.”

You press your palms into the wall to hold yourself up as he takes a step back, pulling his pants up from his ankles and grabbing his belt off the pavement.

“You feelin’ alright?” He places a hand on your shoulder blade once he’s put himself back together. “Need help gettin’ home?”

You look up at him. A complete mess. You’re trembling, your hair is disheveled, your mascara is smeared under your eyes. You nod.

Rafe’s gonna have to make use of you again. He loves philosophy.

[the-vampire-library]

The Appeal of the Devil’s Minion

(Guess what? It’s not just Old Man Yaoi. Or is it?)

The Vampire Chronicles spoiler warning

Jokes aside, I was wondering why the side pairing became even more popular than the main one. In my opinion, the reasons are the following:

Old Man Daniel is the most relatable character. Not for everyone for sure, but for so many of us. The struggle of getting older, chronic illnesses are the issues anyone could experience and vampirism as a way to solve these issues seems appealing. Not only that, but Daniel is the ONLY character who wanted to be a vampire from the beginning. Lestat didn’t want to be a vampire at all. Armand wanted to be forever with his Master, and vampirism was a way to achieve it, but it wasn’t the eternal life he desired (I might be filling the gaps the show had with book knowledge). Louis wasn’t thinking clearly when he was turned so his turning wasn’t consensual. Claudia didn’t have a choice at all. Madeleine didn’t care about vampirism, she just wanted to be with Claudia, and it was dangerous for her to stay with Claudia as a human, because vampire companionship almost always involves drinking blood from each other both in vampire-vampire and in human-vampire companionships, and Claudia just can’t stop when she’s drinking. For Daniel, it’s different. He saw the Dark Gift as a way to avoid struggles of human life from the very beginning. And this is how many of us see vampirism – a promise of eternal life, and a promise of something more than a human life.

Pity for Armand. As much as you can hate him for his lies and betrayal, it’s not his fault he is the way he is. Sexual slavery is enough of a trauma, but then the years he spent with Marius who didn’t even want him for who he was. Marius already had the love of his life, Pandora, he just couldn’t be with her. And after that, Armand was kidnapped and tortured by the Roman coven, who killed Armand’s brothers in front of him. Marius abandoned him and (according to the books) very soon found a replacement for Amadeo – Bianca. Then years with the Roman coven where not only he had to worship Satan being a very religious person, but he saw vampires go crazy and throw themselves into the fire. It was never discussed in the show, but apparently, being a vampire does irreversible damage to the soul. Even if you were a normal person before turning, the constant need to kill, the act of feeding on humans cooks your brain. That’s why vampires need to rest from time to time – to go underground and hibernate. Armand never did it; he didn’t know it was an option. He was carrying the burden of all his kills all this time. Then Lestat, who adored Armand but didn’t want to be with him. I do not believe it was the way Armand told Daniel in s2ep3, because he didn’t tell Daniel at least about Gabriel and probably lied about members of the Paris coven who “went mad, ended themselves”. Because in the books HE killed them. But Armand and Lestat are certainly not normal about each other and Lestat’s reluctance to be with him hurts Armand. Then Louis who never wanted Armand for who he was. I believe they loved each other. They just spoiled everything with their behavior. After all of this, Armand deserves someone who will love him unconditionally for who he is, and it is Daniel. The freak he is, who loves not Armand’s beauty, but the frightening things about him. And that also makes Armand somewhat sympathetic. The idea of meeting someone who will love the darkest things about us.

The general “Will you still love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful”. Obviously, Eric is attractive at his 70+ y.o., we are not arguing about it here. But we all have our insecurities, and this idea that it is possible that someone will love us when we are old and burdened with issues makes Old Man Daniel even more relatable. Vampires don’t see humans the way we see them or the way we see each other. In the books when Lestat describes feeding on humans, it’s always about attraction. Vampires love their victims as their lovers when they drink their blood. I think it cooks the brain even more. Imagine loving every person you feed on and watching/feeling them die. Imagine that you have made a decision to kill only criminals. Now you have to love said criminal, see all their wrongdoings when you feed. (I wonder if they will elaborate on this in the show). And now you have a vampire who also loves you unconditionally, no matter how you look, no matter how much you failed in life. A vampire, who is more worried about your beautiful mind than anything else.

Can you think about a story more romantic? I can’t.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Go, Touch Some Grass-Kokonoe Mercury X Reader

I think this is the single longest thing I have written for this blog. I might also make a part two to this later but I doubt I will.

Anywho, sorry for the inactivity as of late. I just haven't really had the energy to write and because of that I've probably gotten very rusty so this is more than likely not up to my usual standards. My apologies for that.

With all of that aside, I hope you enjoy!

Kokonoe Mercury was absolutely furious.

“Where’s Tager?” Kokonoe growled out as she stomped down the halls, glaring holes through any unfortunate researcher who crossed her path.

“Miss Litchi sent him on a wild goose chase to ensure you didn’t use him to bust into your office.” you responded as you walked behind the irate woman.

Kokonoe attempted to further clench her hands into fists but, due to the bone crushing amount of force she had already used when she learned of what Litchi had done, it was an exercise in futility.

Kokonoe wheeled around the corner and nearly barreled over some poor janitor in the process.

“Sorry about that.” was all you had time to say to the janitor before you had to leave him and break into a jog to catch up with Kokonoe who was nearing her target.

Kokonoe practically bust the door down as she stormed into Litchi’s office.

“Ah! What brings you her-” Litchi began with a smile before she was interrupted by the furious pink haired woman before her.

“Save it! Why the hell can’t I get into my office! Or the labs! Or the storage closets!” Kokonoe snapped at Litchi.

“Oh my! I have no idea! What makes you think I would have any idea what would cause that?” Litchi responded with a voice dripping with false shock and a smirk on her face as she placed her head in her hand.

Kokonoe promptly reached into her lab coat and pulled out a piece of paper that she then slammed onto the table.

The piece of paper read “Go, Touch Some Grass!” with a drawing of Litchi’s winking face in chibi form.

You had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from saying “I don’t think Miss Kokonoe knows what grass is, seeing as she never leaves the lab.”

“Hmm… This is a very flattering drawing of me, don’t you think?” Litchi asked, causing Kokonoe to let out a scream of primal rage and launch herself at the woman.

Or, she tried to at least, she only got halfway before you grabbed her by the back of her collar.

“Let me go dammit! Let me at her! I’ll show her who needs to go touch grass!” Kokonoe hissed as she thrashed and writhed in mid air.

She was concerningly light, barely feeling like she weighed more than one of the boxes of microscopes that needed to be ordered every time an explosion occurred in the lab.

“Before you do that, can you tell me this, how long has it been since you ate a meal?” Litchi asked as Kokonoe continued to thrash around.

“I had-” Kokonoe began before being cut off.

“Meal replacement bars and shakes don’t count. Neither does candy.” Litchi clarified, making Kokonoe go still and quiet as she racked her brain for the answer to Litchi’s question.

“It was… the 15th!” Kokonoe declared, seeming proud of herself.

Litchi proceed to point at the calendar, showing that the current date was the 7th.

Kokonoe scowled in response to this and crossed her arms in irritation.

“What do you want out of me?” Kokonoe grumbled.

“I want you to go to your apartment, and grow something from one of these seeds.” Litchi declared while opening one of her drawers before tossing a pack of mixed seeds onto the table.

Kokonoe looked at the seeds for a solid minute before saying “I could do that in thirty minutes in the lab.”

“I know you could, but, until you learn how to take better care of yourself, you won’t be doing anything in the lab.” Litchi declared.

Kokonoe’s face began to turn red from rage before she took in a deep breath that she held in before letting out.

“How long will all of this take?” Kokonoe grumbled.

“In all honesty? I don’t expect you to be back for about two months.” Litchi declared, making Kokonoe gasp before yelling.

“ARE YOU CRAZY!? TWO MONTHS!?”

“You could prove me wrong, but as I can say with certainty, you and nature do not get along.” Litchi responded.

Kokonoe ground her teeth together, trying to concoct a way out of this predicament.

Unfortunately, Kokonoe was pushed onto the back foot by Litchi Faye Ling.

That means no amount of death stares or threats will move her opponent.

And people had the audacity to call Kokonoe stubborn.

Kokonoe went limp, accepting defeat.

“Fine. But I’m taking your best assistant as collateral!” Kokonoe declared, hoping that this would, somehow, force Litchi into re-considering her demands.

“We have a deal!” Litchi declared before turning her attention to you and spoke.

“You can put her down now. Be sure to pack up everything you need before leaving!”

You promptly lowered Kokonoe onto the ground and began to walk out the door before being stopped by Kokonoe.

“Hey! I said your best assistant! Not MY best assistant!” the pink hair woman exclaimed.

“That is my assistant. I let you borrow them for an extra set of eyes during an experiment while Tager was off on errands and you never gave them back.” Litchi explained with a smile that held a small amount of venom.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

You and Kokonoe sat next to one another as the tram followed its course down to the residential area.

The two of you stuck out like sore thumbs with the pure white lab coats the two of you wore, the scowl on Kokonoe’s face, and your relatively calm expression.

You had long since gotten accustomed to the pink haired scientist and her… ornery moods.

In fact, due to your constant exposure to her, you had the nebulous honor of being one of the few who were unaffected by her temper when it boiled over.

Speaking of the devil herself, you turned your attention to the woman as she reached into the sleeve of her coat and pulled out a piece of her iconic silvervine candy.

“I’ve got a question for ya.” the woman grumbled.

“I will attempt to answer it to the best of my abilities.” you replied.

Kokonoe grunted before twisting her head to the side with the back of her hand, causing a series of cracks to enter your ears.

“If you’re one of Litchi’s assistants, why’d you stick around to work with me?” Kokonoe asked with a suspicious tone to her voice.

“Curiosity. You have quite the reputation as a slave driving monster around the water cooler.” was all you said in response.

This forced a wheezing cackle from Kokonoe’s chest.

“You aren’t the type to mince words are you? Remind me to take you off of Litchi’s hands when we get back!” Kokonoe exclaimed as she continued her cackling.

“I will keep that in mind.” you declared as you waited for Kokone to regain her composure.

Kokonoe continued to laugh for a few more moments before claming down.

“So, did the stories do me justice?” Kokonoe asked with a smirk.

You were quiet for a moment before responding.

“You have high but, for the most part, not unreasonable expectations of those that work under you. There is no inherent problem with that as it serves as a point to strive for and to exceed. However, for many the bar set is too high. That is my assessment. So, in my opinion, no, the stories are not entirely accurate.”

“Well, can’t say I was expecting a response like that. I was asking for your opinion, not a report on an experiment.” Kokonoe declared as she put her head in the palm of her hand.

“To be fair Miss Kokonoe, I am still on the clock. Technically.” was all you said in defense to your position.

The rest of the ride in the tram was spent in a relative, semi-comfortable, silence.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

By the time Kokonoe remembered where her apartment was, night had fallen.

Despite this, you continued to carry both your and Kokonoe’s suitcases as the two of you walked up the stairs and Kokonoe mumbled to herself about keys as she struggled to recall which one of the many on her key ring was the one for her apartment.

Soon, the two of you reached the apartment that belonged to Kokonoe, though it took a while for the door to be opened due to Kokonoe being forced to play trial and error with her myriad of keys.

As soon as the door was pushed open, a robotic voice greeted the two of you.

“Good. Evening. Miss. Kokonoe. Welcome. Home. You. Have. Been. Gone. For. Ninety. Days. Fifteen. Hours. And. Thirty. Minutes. Is. There. Anything. You. Require?” a small robot roughly the height and width of a garbage can with a duster in one hand and a vacuum in the other asked as it stood at attention in the entryway.

“No. Don’t worry about the guest either. They're with me.”

The robot promptly did a small bow before turning in place and walking off.

You were then led into the living room which, in all honesty, looked as if it was ready to be shown off and sold to the next potential buyer by a real estate agent.

In other words, it looked clean, clinical, and completely uninhabited.

“Welcome to my home away from home.” Kokonoe declared as she grabbed her suitcase from you, walked down the hall, and into a room, before slamming the door behind her and leaving you standing alone.

You clicked your tongue before muttering to yourself.

“This design of this place is very… human.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Kokonoe did not have any clocks in her apartment.

Mostly because if she was at her apartment, that meant one of two things.

The lab had exploded and was in the process of being fixed. She was practically on her deathbed from sickness.

As such, she fully expected to not wake up until her body declared she needed to.

To be fair, that expectation was filled, just not in the way she thought it would be when the smell of freshly cooked food entered her nose and roused her from her sleep.

“Ugh… What the hell is that smell?” Kokonoe grumbled as she rolled over and towards the window to gauge the time based off of the sun.

Based on the light entering her room, it was around ten-ish.

Kokonoe let out a sigh as she threw the covers off of her and trudged towards her door, kicking her discarded lab coat, and other articles of clothing to the side in the process.

Kokonoe yawned as she reached for the door’s handle before pulling it open.

This revealed you, your hand raised to knock on the door.

“Ah. I’ve made lu-” you began to say before cutting yourself off as you went red in the face.

You proceeded to grab the handle opposite from the one Kokonoe was holding and slammed the door shut, leaving the pink haired scientist deeply confused.

It took a few seconds for the still groggy and half asleep Kokonoe to remember that, before she went to sleep, she removed all of her clothes.

“Oh right. Most people care that other people wear clothes.” Kokonoe said to herself aloud before scratching the side of her head and turning on her heel to find something to cover herself with.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Kokonoe walked into the kitchen, wearing a t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and a pair of slippers with a fresh lab coat over it all alongside the expression of a person who was completely unbothered by the previous event.

That expression did not stay long as she noticed something had gone missing from the kitchen.

“Where the hell is my fridge?” Kokonoe asked, trying her best and failing spectacularly to keep her voice even.

You sat at the table, your head in your hands over a bowl of soup.

“Its contents were the wrong amount of alive.” was all you said in response, a tint of red still on your face as you tried to force the memory of Kokonoe minus her clothes out of your mind.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Kokonoe demanded before the conversation was interrupted by screams.

“HOLY SHIT! LARRY!!! GET THE FLAMETHROWER!!!”

“WHY DOES IT HAVE EYES!!!!”

“It means that.” you muttered before shuddering, composing yourself, and then gesturing to the pot on the stove.

“I have made soup.” you declared.

“Is it any good?” Kokonoe asked, crossing her arms.

“I give you no guarantees.” was your response.

“Meh, good enough for me.” the pink haired scientist declared with a shrug of her shoulders.

Lunch passed in silence save for the sounds of battle outside.

However, lunch did not last long and soon the two of you were getting down to brass tacks.

“Right, we need to go to the store, don’t we?” Kokonoe asked as she put her dishes in the sink.

“Correct. We require a replacement fridge, food, and material for you to grow a plant. I will cover a quarter of the cost for the fridge.” You responded as you put your own dishes into their place.

“A quarter? Aren’t you the one who threw it out?” Kokonoe asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I was not the one who let that godless creature be born. Also, I live on an assistant's salary.” Was your retort and your defense to Kokonoe’s reasoning.

“Fine. Just know I’m not happy about this.” the half beastkin woman declared.

“Duly noted.” was your response.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

After the plan had been decided, the two of you set out and onto the town.

Much like most things involving Kokonoe V.S. The Outside World, as you were coming to find, it became an all day debacle.

Especially with what happened with Kokonoe and that poor appliance salesman.

He made the very reasonable assumption that, due to the two of you coming in at the same time and looking at the fridges on display together, you and Kokonoe were a couple.

You thought Kokonoe was going to tear his head clean off when the words left his mouth. Thankfully, she only skinned him alive with her words and not any of the knives from the kitchen sets that were nearby.

Still, the day remained profitable despite the hiccup, and by the time night fell, the new fridge was installed and stocked with food.

Soon after that, the two of you fell into a rhythm.

Kokonoe would obsess over the plant, you would double check her measurements to ensure everything was going smoothly, then you would begin the most torturous task you had even inflicted upon yourself.

Teaching Kokonoe Mercury how to take care of herself.

First, you started with the basics in Laundry which was easy enough since most of her clothes could be sorted into whites and reds.

Of course, that came with her grumbling about how she could build a robot or get Taeger to do this for the entire time, still, it was progress.

But, then came cooking.

Foolishly, you thought that she would do well in cooking since it was as much science as it was art.

This was a very, very idiotic thought to have.

In five minutes she managed to turn a bag of rice into ash.

It took her ten to completely immolate a fish down to its bones.

After this disaster, you decided to put off trying to teach her how to cook until you had a fire extinguisher on hand.

Still, cooking related mishaps aside, everything was going well in forcing Kokonoe to learn that, no matter how hard she wished or how many drugs she put into her silvervine candy, she still had a body of flesh and blood.

She was, of course, filled with enough rage to burn the world to ash due to this, but that was something you expected when you were co-opted into this debacle.

What you didn’t expect however, was your side of the emotional coin.

Specifically, your growing admiration and care for her.

This isn’t to say you didn’t admire her before this, but more so to say that before this your admiration for her was only professional.

Now though, you were admiring her as a person.

You always knew she was a stubborn person, it was par for the course in the field of science.

Now though, you saw that her stubbornness was something she applied in all facets of her life.

And as you continued to spend time with her, you also saw that her stubbornness and her care were one in the same.

Still, you knew it was better to keep all of that to yourself.

She was your boss and you were her assistant.

It would be better and far simpler for both you and her to keep it that way.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Kokonoe Mercury, for the first time in a very, very long time, didn’t feel like absolute crap.

Was this the power of three square meals a day, water, and regular doses of sunlight?

If it was, Kokonoe would be… inclined to not kill Litchi the second she got back her lab access.

Just ever so slightly.

The fact she stole you to be her assistant was also helping out.

It was also causing her an immense amount of headache as, against her better judgement, Kokonoe was getting ever so slightly attached to you.

She knew she shouldn’t based on past data.

Everyone she had ever made a bond with had left her, died, or worse.

It was a quantifiable metric.

And yet, here Kokonoe was, thinking of a way to try and even the score.

As loath as she was to admit it, you had taught her things.

To her, knowledge in all its forms was something invaluable.

Sure, she never felt the need to repay someone for teaching her something before but that's unimportant.

What was important now, was finding something worth what you taught her.

Maybe she could invite you to be her research partner?

No, no, no, she already had you as her assistant, that was almost the same thing wasn’t it?

She couldn’t up your salary either since the budget for the year had already been decided.

“Wait, that’s it!” Kokonoe exclaimed, a mad grin making itself known on her face.

Sure, she couldn’t raise your salary, but she could give you a way to take some strain off your budget.

She could just invite you to live with her.

Yes, that would be perfect! It would allow for the symbiotic relationship the two of you had to continue, and it would let Kokonoe continue to operate at maximum efficiency.

Why hadn’t she thought of this sooner?

It was a foolproof plan that benefitted both you and her!

Truly, the genius of Kokonoe Mercury is unparalleled.

If only she was this smart when it came to her emotions and other people.

[sturniololuvz]

can you do one where one of the boys swear infront of 4 year old sister and she starts saying it all the time and they try and get her to stop

lmaooooo

“A Bad Habit”

Sturniolos x sister

Warnings: none

It all started when Chris stubbed his toe.

The triplets and Y/N were hanging out in the living room, Y/N happily coloring at the coffee table while the boys talked. Chris got up to grab a drink from the kitchen, and on his way, his foot collided hard with the edge of the couch.

“FUCK!”

The room went silent. Matt and Nick’s eyes went wide as they turned toward Y/N, who was now staring at Chris, crayon frozen mid-doodle.

Chris clutched his foot, groaning. “Ah, shit, that hurt—”

“Fuck!”

The triplets’ heads snapped toward Y/N.

Chris’s face drained of color. “Oh no.”

Matt covered his mouth. Nick looked horrified.

Y/N, completely oblivious to the chaos she just caused, grinned. “Fuck!” she repeated, like she had just learned the coolest new word.

Chris ran a hand down his face. “Okay, no, nope, we’re not doing this.”

Nick crouched beside her, trying to keep calm. “Bug, we can’t say that, okay?”

Y/N blinked up at him. “Why?”

Matt sighed. “Because it’s a bad word. It’s only for grown-ups.”

Y/N tilted her head. “Then why did Chris say it?”

The boys froze.

Chris stammered. “Uh—well, that’s different—”

“Fuck!” Y/N chirped again.

Nick stood up. “Dude, we are so screwed.”

The Next Day…

They thought they had nipped it in the bud. They really did. But then, while they were filming a vlog, it happened.

Y/N was sitting on Chris’s lap while Matt set up the camera. She accidentally dropped her sippy cup, and without missing a beat—

“Fuck!”

The triplets panicked.

“NOPE!” Chris picked her up immediately, covering her mouth. “Nope, nope, we don’t say that!”

Nick stopped recording, wheezing. “We’re gonna have to cut so much footage.”

Matt shook his head. “This is all your fault, Chris.”

Chris groaned. “Okay, I get it! But what do we do?”

They tried everything—bribing her with candy, making up silly replacement words (“fluffernugget” did not stick), and even straight-up ignoring it.

Nothing worked.

Y/N just liked saying it.

That Weekend…

At dinner, their mom gave them the look as Y/N happily hummed in her seat, kicking her feet.

“So,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Do any of you want to explain why my four-year-old is running around the house saying ‘fuck’?”

Silence.

Then, all at once:

“Chris.”

“Chris.”

“Chris.”

Chris groaned, sinking in his seat. “Yeah, yeah, I know. My bad.”

Their mom sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fix it.”

Another Week Later…

Finally, finally, Y/N stopped saying it—mostly because she had moved on to a new favorite word: pickle.

Chris had never been so relieved.

“Hey, Y/N,” he tested one day. “What do we say when we drop something?”

Y/N grinned. “Pickle!”

Chris threw his hands up. “I’ll take it.”

Matt and Nick nodded in agreement.

At least “pickle” wouldn’t get them in trouble.

For now.

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 16 - Self Sacrifice

Summary: poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic. CW: angst, injuries, hurt/comfort.

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

“Ghost! We need that door open now!” Price shouts as he turns. Gaz comes over to the window in the door. 

“On the console, there should be a green switch. Try flipping it.” He says. You nod heaving as the fresh oxygen in the room slowly gets replaced with whatever gas is being pumped in. Finding the green switch is harder than you think. The gas is stinging your eyes now, they fill with water and you have to keep brushing tears out of the way with your free hand. 

It feels like you’re looking forever, your fingers running over every button and switch. You finally find it blinking a few times to get the tears out your eyes before flipping it. The switch clicks and the hissing stops. You regain your composure, you cough breathing in big gulps of air. 

Your hand squeezes your vest then you hear coughing. You look over at the window. You see Price cough, you can hear the others start too. You look back at the console. 

It’s you or them. Fuck.  

Your eyes lock onto Price as you wipe the tears from your face. Fuck . This was going to suck. You can’t let them die though. You move back over to the green switch. 

“Dont, you dare!” Price shouts between coughs. You look over at him. You can’t listen to them suffer. You can’t let them die. 

You flick the switch. There’s a few seconds of silence then the hissing starts up again. The smell of chemicals fill the room making your eyes sting, slowly their coughing stops as yours starts up again. 

“NO!” Price shouts, you look over at him, your hand comes up to your nose and mouth. It doesn’t matter though. You move away from the console and towards the window. 

“Can’t let you die.” You wheeze, your eyes are stinging, you can barely see him now. You think back to the kiss, the sex. You wipe your eyes, looking past Price but you can’t see anything. 

“Ghost. That door needs to be opened!” You hear Price shout. “Gaz, is there anything you can do?” 

“I’m trying!” You hear Gaz shout. Your lungs are burning now, there’s not much clean air  in the room, your head is starting to spin. You can’t tell if it’s the poison or the lack of oxygen. It doesn’t matter. They’re safe. 

Your hand drops from your face and you smile at him. For a second your eyes clear, you can see his face, his hand pressed up against the glass. You reach up and press your hand against his. You swear you can feel the heat from his hand on the other side of the door. 

“Price.” You cough, pressing your body against the door to hold yourself upright. You don’t know how much time you have. You don’t expect them to save you, but if they don’t get out you’ll haunt them from the beyond. The thought makes you chuckle which throws you into a coughing fit. 

“GAZ!” You hear Price shout. You slam your hand against the glass and he turns back to look at you. It’s not Gaz’s fault, it’s no one’s fault. You hear banging, pounding against metal.

“Price. Thank you.” 

“John, and you can thank me later.” He says, you smile, coughing. There’s not going to be a later. You can’t hold yourself up for much longer black spots flash in your vision. 

“Got it!” You hear Ghost shout. You try to take a breath in but you can’t panic rises in you and your legs give way. You fall to the floor looking up to see the gas coming in through the vents. 

You die and they live. It was how it’s supposed to end. Ever since the beginning when they were going to put a bullet in your head. Maybe it’s fate or something. It feels like a fitting end. You let out one last long breath before everything goes black.

…

Price is holding his breath as your body slides down to the floor. He watches you go limp against the door. He wants to tear the door off, they need to get you out of there. Suddenly there’s a wiring sound and the gas in the room starts to get sucked back up the vents. 

A few seconds later the door clicks and slides open. Price moves to the side, Soap and Ghost push past him and grip your vest pulling you out the room and into the hallway. 

“Is she breathing?” Price asks, he doesn’t get a response straight away. “Soap!”

“She’s breathing, barely.” He replies, his ear pressed up against your face.

“What the fuck happened?” Price asks following Gaz into the main room.

“Makarov left a trap for us. He knew we were getting close.” Gaz says. “There'll be more Konni on the way we need to leave.” 

“Shit.” Price curses under his breath pulling the sat-phone off his vest. “Ghost, go get us a car. Gaz get what data you can.” He holds the phone up to his ear listening to it ring out. 

“Price.” Lawell’s voice comes through the phone.

“Laswell. We need exfil, medevac.” 

“Not possible.” 

“Why?”

“Captain, you did this without our approval, we cannot send unit’s into Russia right now.” Shepherd says. Price pulls the phone away from his ear and curses. 

“Makarov is dead.”

“Good. But you still have a job to do, Captain. Secure the weapons in Russia and the nukes in Urzikstan then we can call it even for this little revenge mission you’ve been on.” Shepherd says, Price looks over at Gaz typing on the laptop. 

“Hard to do when you’re one man down.” Price spits. 

“Who is injured? Or is it that smuggler you’ve insisted on dragging around?” Shepherd asks, he sounds mad. Price doesn’t say anything, he hears a sigh down the line.

“Acceptable losses I'm afraid. For the best really, the amount of paperwork she’s generated is unbelievable.” Shepherd says. Price turns to look at you, Johnny is holding you in his arms, all the colour looks like it has drained from your face. Acceptable loss . It makes him mad, so mad he wants to throw the phone across the room. You’re not a loss, because they’re not going to lose you. 

“You have a job to do Captain and I would suggest you do it quickly. If we have to send someone else in to clean up your mess it won’t end well for you.” There’s the warning, the threat. It almost makes Price laugh, he holds it together turning to look at Gaz who nods at him. 

“We’re sending the data from Russia.” Price says keeping his voice level. 

“Good. Now get back to Urzikstan. Preferably without picking up any more strays.” The call ends. 

Acceptable loss . How dare he.

“When’s evac coming?” Soap asks. Price swallows, building his confidence back up. 

“There is no evac. We need to get to Urzikstan ourselves.” Price says.

“What!” Soap shouts gripping you tighter. He can hear the anger in his voice. “Cap, she needs medical attention.” 

“If it’s anything like the gas I inhaled in Verdansk she’ll be fine.”

“It’s nothing like the gas from Verdansk.” Soap snaps back before looking down at you. 

“Price, vehicle secured.” Ghost’s voice comes through the radio. 

“Okay, let's move.” Price says. 

…

Ghost insisted on driving. Price wanted to drive, he wanted to have something else to focus his mind on other than the sound of your laboured breathing from the back seats. He should be happy, you’re breathing which means you’re alive. As long as you’re alive he’s not going to panic. 

He looks back in the rear view mirror. Soap is still fussing over you, he hasn’t let you go since they dragged you out that room. His fingers brushing your hair and face, his other arm keeping you steady while Ghost barrels down the road. 

He looks over at Gaz, their eyes meet for a second and he looks down to his hand rubbing your thigh. He smiles, swallowing some of the dread away and looking back out to the road. Kyle was the most sceptical about you, said he didn’t want to waste time getting close to you if you were going to betray them.

Johnny tried to convince him it wasn't going to be like that. Even Price had his doubts, all the way up until the kiss, he couldn’t wait any longer not after hearing what Simon and Johnny got up to. There was something in your eyes, something about the way you kissed him back he knew you weren't going to betray them. 

He can almost feel the guilt radiating off of Kyle. He never got to give you a chance, now he might never get to. Price lets out a breath pushing the thought away. They’re not going to lose you, they’re taking you to Farah, they have doctors, you’ll be fine. 

“What the hell?” Ghost says. Price snaps over to look at him as the car rolls to a stop.

“What is it?” He asks. 

“I don’t know, something’s broken.” He says getting out of the car. Price follows him, they walk over and Ghost opens the hood, steam and smoke fills the air. It’s so hot they both have to take a step back. When it dissipates, Ghost reaches down to touch something but pulls his hand back straight away. 

“Fuck. Cooling system must be broken or something. Engine overheated.” Ghost says. 

“Shit.” Price responds looking around. This is not a good place to be stuck. They’re by the border but there’s nothing around for miles, scattered farms and some houses. No cars around for them to take, it’s starting to get dark too. 

“How far can we push this before it breaks totally?” Price asks.

“I don’t know, a kilometre, maybe 2 I wouldn’t want to risk it and be left with no transport whatsoever. If we could leave it for a few hours to cool we might be able to make it over the border.” Ghost says, Price sighs looking around again. 

“Price!” Soap calls. He hears the urgency in his voice, the fear. He walks round the car leaving Ghost. 

“What?” He asks, his eyes scanning over you. You’re shaking, beads of sweat have formed over your body. 

“Feel.” Soap says pulling Price’s hand to touch you. 

“She’s freezing.” He says pressing on your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“What’s wrong with the car?” Gaz asks. 

“Overheating, Ghost thinks the cooling is broken or something.” Price says as the hood of the car is slammed close. 

“There’s a house back down the road at the end of the field. Looks empty, maybe we could see if they have anything to help?” Ghost asks. Price looks over to where he’s pointing.

“That or we can sit for a few hours, let the car cool.” He looks back over at you. “Get her inside somewhere warm, try and get her temperature back up.” He doesn’t like the thought of stopping here, but they’re running out of options. 

Everyone seems to silently agree, Price and Ghost get back in the car. The drive back to the house felt like it was taking hours, not minutes, the drive down the mud offroad was the worst. Ghost had to slow down to stop the car from skidding and Price was worried they could get stuck. When they make it to the house it really is starting to get dark. There are no lights turning on, that's a good sign. There are plants in the window that look like their wilting, maybe this place was abandoned when Konni increased their presence in the area. 

“Me and Ghost will clear the place. You two stay here.” Price says as Ghost gets out of the car. There’s looks of concern on Gaz, and Soap’s face, your lips almost look like they're turning blue. They need to be quick, before this gets any worse. 

The house is clear, they know that before they make it to the second floor. Opening the door to furniture covered in sheets, boxes strewn all over the place. Upstairs the building is an empty bar one bedroom with a double bed and a bathroom. 

Gaz and Soap are already carrying you into the house before they get the all clear. They place you down on the sofa running around and finding anything to cover you in. Even with a pile of blankets on you covering everything but your face your lip is still quivering. 

“Body heat.” Gaz says. “She needs body heat, like if someone has hypothermia you warm them up with your heat so they don’t warm up too fast.” 

“She doesn’t have hypothermia.” Soap says. 

“No but she’s freezing and her lips are turning purple.”

“It’s worth a try.” Price says, you look like you’re getting worse, not better. “There’s a bed upstairs.” Soap sighs but starts pulling the blankets off you before scooping you back up in his arms. Everyone follows him to the second floor. Ghost pulls the sheets off the bed and Soap lays you down. 

“Take her clothes off, it needs to be skin to skin contact.” Gaz says pulling the bottom of your shirt up. Soap raises an eyebrow but listens, helping him strip you down to your underwear. Then they do the same stripping down to their boxers before climbing into bed. 

Gaz rolls you on your side pressing his back up to you. “Christ, she’s freezing.” He says reaching down for the duvet and pulling it over you all. 

“You sure this will work?” Soap asks reaching over to wrap his arms around Gaz pulling them close. 

“We’ll have to wait and see.” Gaz says. Ghost lets out a sigh slumping down on the armchair in the room, he pinches the bridge of his nose closing his eyes. Price walks over to him and rests his hand on his shoulder. 

“She’ll be okay.” He says, he’s not sure if he believes it himself but it has to be real. There’s no way after everything that this is the end. 

“And if she’s not?” He asks looking up at Price.

“Then at least we know who to blame.” Price says.

…

Everything hurts. Your chest hurts the most, and your eyes. You’re freezing but there’s someone laid next to you. You move, hands instantly find you, voices filling the air as you open your eyes to look around. 

“Eazy, you’re okay.” Johnny says. You open your mouth to speak but it’s dry, you slap your lips together trying to swallow what little moisture there is. It throws you into a coughing fit. You shoot up in the bed, your hand pressed on your chest. 

Hands land on your shoulders and back as you try to suck in gulps of air between the coughs. Someone presses a bottle of water in your hand and you bring it to your lips gulping it down. The coughing stops and you sit there panting. It’s like you can’t get a full breath of air in. 

You can hear the wheezing in your breaths, each breath stings your chest. It feels like you can still smell the sickly sweet odour of the gas. Someone reaches over and takes the bottle out of your hand. You look up to see Price stood by the side of the bed. 

“John.” You say smiling at him. Your voice is hoarse, it doesn’t sound like your own, it sounds weird. Your free hand comes up to rub your neck. He smiles back at you and you look round at Johnny and Gaz holding you up. 

“Where’s your shirts?” You ask, turning to Gaz. Before any of them can respond he leans in and kisses you. His kiss is soft, his hands come up to cup your face. You want to keep kissing him, you want his lips and hands to never let you go. You can’t kiss him for long though, you’re holding your breath, you have to break from him to breathe. 

“Kyle,” he says. You smile at him.

“You gave us a proper scare lass. Thought we’d lost you.” Johnny says pulling you against him and kissing the top of your head. 

“Don't do anything like that again. I don’t think my heart can take it.” Johnny says chuckling. You smile in his chest, yawning and closing your eyes. They made it out, made it out safe and managed to get you out too. They didn’t have to do that but they did. 

You feel Kyle’s hands rubbing your back and John sits down on the bed. You open your eyes looking up at him. He reaches over to stroke your cheek. 

“Thank you.” He says, you smile at him. “But seriously, don’t ever do that again.”

“Only if your life depends on it.” You reply. He tuts, shaking his head. 

“Get some rest.” He says leaning forward to kiss your forehead before standing up off the bed. You look over at the light coming in from the doorway. You see Ghost’s silhouette blocking most of it. 

“Good to have you back.” He says. You nod yawning again, your head still feels stuffy. 

“C’mon, a few hours kip will do you the world of good.” Johnny says encouraging you to lie back. As soon as your head hits the pillows you feel exhausted. 

“Will you stay?” You ask as you close your eyes.

“Yeah, we’ll stay.” Kyle says as you feel him lay back down next to you.

“We’re not going anywhere.” Johnny says pulling the duvet over you. 

“Good.” You whisper feeling their arms wrap around you, pressing their bodies against yours. You never would have imagined the very people you thought would end your life in a heartbeat would be the people you risk your life for. A few days ago you were all strangers, now you’re lovers? Partners? It doesn’t matter, all you know is you wouldn’t want to change it for the world.

Banners by plum98

[ryderdire]

Thinking about the relationship between my character and a character who hasn’t even been Introduced yet and won’t be for a long ass time/possibly ever they just make me mentally Ill

[megafart1]

Fiddauthor doodles

*leaves this politely on the floor and scurries away*

yeah. enjoy ^_^

[cuteniaarts]

@katkastrofa, circa 40-ish hours ago: Hey, what if our newest bunch of OCs adopted a baby from one of the other brothel girls who knew she couldn’t afford to raise one? That would make for some fun shenanigans :D

Me, with a notoriously non existent sleep schedule, instinct of self preservation or concern for my poor wrist: Alright, bet. Watch how fast I can make you fall in love with this hypothetical baby >:)

Daneli as a gentle and loving caretaker-turned-adoptive-mother is something that can be So Personal, actually, and originally I was going to leave it at this quick sketch, but then I got carried away thinking about what this child will grow up to be like raised by this little gang of misfits, so…

Here she is!! A little older and so, so beautiful, I need more of her in my life immediately, she’s way too precious

And, because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t also add a sapphic element to this absolute cinnamon roll, a small crack ship that I’m only half serious about for when she’s a little older still:

All in all, we may be getting impossibly far from canon, but I for one already cannot get enough of sweet darling Kumisai <3

(I fully drew three pieces from scratch in 9 hours I cannot feel my brain or my hands anymore send help)

[peak-dumbass]

The statements “Larry Butz is much more interesting and important than fans give him credit for, especially at the end of AA1 as Phoenix and Miles’ childhood best friend & with his witness testimony saving Miles from a guilty verdict as well as at the end of AA3 where he is shown genuinely trying to improve himself as a person as Laurice Deauxnim” and “Larry Butz is hard for most people to stand because of his consistent weird moments in AA3 which, along with his constant failing-to-get-with-woman jokes throughout both games, can get annoying and borderline intolerable for some people” are not mutually exclusive.

I really am interested in Larry as a character but god it’s impossible for me to see him as anything other than comedic-relief-that-isn’t-comedic-nor-relieving, I really don’t feel bad when Phoenix is slightly rude towards him cuz I would act the same, if not worse