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pynkfairyheart · 6 months ago

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Pairings: connie x black reader

Warnings: smut 18+ Connie's a lil toxic, mentions of a gun, pretty angsty

pt.2 to birthday girl but can be read as a standalone

Miss you

Constance Springer. The man who was once the source of your happiness though recently the source of your frustration and headaches.

“I just don't get it, Con. You take me on these amazing dates, buy me anything that catches my attention, and say you wanna spend the rest of your life with me, yet when I ask to publicly announce we’re together, which I shouldn't have to, you always brush it aside.” You spoke as calmly as possible. Though considering this was the 4th time this week you were having this conversation your calm tone resembled shouting.

It had been five months since your birthday. Five months since Connie gave you the best gift you could ever think of. Himself.

The first four months felt as if you were on cloud nine. The entire duration it was as if you were conjoined at the hip. Connie had to make a couple of drops? There you were in his passenger seat watching a movie or using his card to pay for the large quantity of your cart.

You needed to go make up a missed exam? Connie was waiting in his car with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. The only time you weren't seen together was if he was doing something he didn't want you involved in or if he was out buying you secret lavish gifts such as the car he got you a week after your birthday. Life was great.

It wasn't til you were at your nail appointment with Mika where she nearly cut you with her clippers from shock the moment you brought up your relationship with Connie, that you realized no one knew about it.

At first, you were confused. How could no one know? You were always together but the more you thought about it you started to understand. Whenever you were out he wasn't as affectionate as when it was just the two of you, just a few touches that could easily be considered friendly, but you just brushed it off as him not being comfortable with PDA.

Even when you went on dates he'd buy the entire venue or restaurant out so it'd be just you two or would plan the nicest dates at the house, either way, no one saw you on dates as a couple.

You thought about it for a while before it finally ate you up and you just had to ask. His response was the reason shit went left.

“Whatchu mean let people know we’re together? Ion want people in our business. I'm yours and you're mine, that's all that matters” He brushed it off with a kiss on your forehead before running to go get some eggs around the corner. He was only gone for ten minutes yet in that time frame you went through hundreds of different reasons as to why he responded that way.

At first, you were confused. Then, you were trying to reassure yourself he's right as long as we know then we straight. But immediately after that thought came anger why the fuck doesn't he want people to know? Am I the fuckin side chick?

By the time Connie came back you were fuming. You trusted Connie, the night he asked you to be his he promised you he'd never do anything to hurt you yet you couldn't deny how suspicious this was. He barely had time to lock the door behind him before you started with your questions.

“You cheating on me Constance?”

“What?” He almost gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned, looking at you as if you had said the stupidest shit ever which in his mind you did.

“You heard me. Are you cheating?” You followed him into the kitchen of his apartment.

“No [☆] I'm not cheating. I needa take you to the ER? Cause it sounds like you hit your head while I was gone”

“Then why don't you wanna tell anyone?”

“About us?”

“Duh”

“I already told you, mami, I don't want people all up in our business”

That was two weeks ago and you guys were nowhere near in a better place. By no means were you insecure. You knew Connie loved you and only you but you wanted others to know as well. It's not like you wanted to leak one of your many sex tapes on IG. You just wanted at least your friend group to know you were together. Connie wasn't having it though.

“Mama lower your tone” He groaned. Inked hands rubbing his face from frustration.

“Just tell me, Con. Why don't you want anyone to know?”

“Is it wrong to wanna keep our relationship private? I love you princess but you buggin’ for real. Drop it”

“You know what. Fuck this, nd fuck you too. There's a big fucking difference between private and secret.” You slammed his bedroom door. This was too much. You couldn't take it anymore; it was as if he was ashamed of you. You loved Connie, you really, really loved him but this hurt, the constant drop of your heart whenever he let go of your hand the moment you stepped out of his apartment complex or whenever a girl flirted with him in front of the group but there was nothing you could do. You were done. No amount of love could make you settle for anything less than you knew you deserved.

Despite your teary eyes you managed to pull yourself together. Grabbing your bag, you packed as much as possible before finally exiting the room.

Connie was in the middle of rolling a blunt when he saw you walk out, he would have been convinced that his heart was lying on the couch when he stood up if it wasn't for the loud thumping in his ears.

“Where are you going?” He stood in your way

“Connie please move” You sniffled

“No, not until you tell me where you're going. Please [☆] lo siento, mami, por favor, no te vayas please don't go” His voice cracked as reality hit him. Dropping to his knees, his hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips.

“I promise to be better, I promise. I will call everyone on my phone and tell them about us right now, please don't go” At this point, you had to look away. His tear-stricken face and Spanish almost had you fold.

“We'll work this out ma, estaré mejor, lo prometo I'll be better, I promise”

“No, we can't Connie. Not right now” And with that, you left.

A month had passed so far. It was rough in the beginning. He blew your phone up 24/7 to the point where you had to block him. You couldn't eat, and whenever you did have the energy to stay awake you did nothing but scroll on your phone, your thumb always finding the photo album where you stored all pictures of Connie.

Sasha and Mikasa finally had enough, while Mika was the only one you told Sasha had a pretty good idea after she went to visit Connie only to find him in the same state as you, maybe even worse. Deciding you needed to leave the walls of your apartment and have fun, they finally convinced you to go out. Taking a couple of pregame shots while shaking ass in the mirror, your outfit leaving nothing to the imagination as you finally felt ready to face reality.

By the time you had arrived at the party, the drinks started to kick in and you grabbed the first sexy guy you saw and dragged him to the dance floor.

Unknown to you Connie was also at the party, standing in the corner as he made a few deals. He looked tired, and he was. The moment the door closed behind you he broke down. Ignoring all of the calls and texts he got from clients as he sat there. He was angry. Angry at you for leaving him but mostly angry at himself for fucking up.

When Connie finally caught sight of you it was as if someone had finally flipped the switch on throughout his body. His heart sped up, his posture straightened and his dick twitched at the sight of your body in the dress.

His dick wasn't the only thing twitching. When it finally registered to Connie that you were letting some random guy touch you as you whined on him, his eye twitched and his hand immediately went to his gun.

He was furious. With zero fucks he approached you, the barrel of his gun pressed against the guy who you were currently throwing it back on.

When you no longer felt the swaying of the man behind you, you turned to be met with the fear-frozen stranger and Connie whispering something in his ear. You didn't have time to ask what was going on before the guy scurried off and Connie roughly grabbed your arm, dragging you out of the house party.

Despite the fact you were no longer together and he had no right to drag you away, you stayed quiet. Connie rarely got angry but when he did you knew it was best to just stay quiet.

“Get in the fucking car [☆]” He threw open the door. You were convinced the thong you had on was completely drenched after those six words. His voice was low and threatening and you almost felt disgusting from how turned on you were. Almost. With one look into his rage-filled eyes, you got in the car, the door slamming behind you when he was sure you were safely in.

He quickly got in, tire tracks marking the ground as he sped off. It was silent for a minute before you decided to speak, once his grip on the steering wheel loosened and the color returned to his knuckles.

“Connie?” You faced him, eyes burning into the side of his head as he kept his dark stare on the road.

“Connie, come on. You can't just kidnap me and then not speak. Pull over and talk to me now” You huffed.

With a roll of his eyes, he pulled into a deserted parking lot.

“Hello? Either you get to talking or I'm getting out nd calling an Uber”

“No the fuck you're not” He groaned loudly, eyes meeting yours.

“Then talk” You borderline yelled

If Connie's hair was long enough to grip he'd have a couple bald spots from how frustrated he was. He gave you both time to cool down before he spoke.

“Look I'm sorry for dragging you away, and for threatening your lil boyfriend-”

“He's not my boyfriend”

“He's not?”

“No. Continue your apology” You rolled your eyes.

Your response had a smirk forming on his face. He missed you so much, even your attitude.

“I missed you ma. I'm sorry for dragging you away. I'm also sorry for how things ended.” He grabbed your hand.

“I now understand your feelings and your concerns and I'm sorry I ever made you feel like I was ashamed of you or if there was another woman. You're the love of my life ma, this past month has been pure hell. I need you baby. Please take me back.” His hands were shaking as they held yours securely. It was rare to see Connie cry, and the sight of his tear-streaked face made your heart ache. He really did love you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat you asked the one question that started it all.

“Be real Con. Why didn't you want anyone to know?”

With a sigh, he rubbed his facial hair.

“I was afraid you'd realize you could do better”

“What? What made you think that Con?”

“I sell drugs for a living, mami, I'm involved with a shit ton of dangerous people. I was afraid when others found out they'd start telling you things about me and you'd realize you can do so much better”

“Oh, Connie” You could no longer resist the need to be close to him. Maneuvering yourself so you sat in his lap you cupped his face as your eyes searched his.

“Papa there is no one better. I love you so much, Connie. There is nothing anyone could ever say to make me want or love you less because I know you. I know how much you care and love those around you. There is no one better, Connie.”

For some time, the two of you were wrapped in each other's arms as you faced your emotions.

When you both were calm, you finally dared to look into his eyes. The energy shift resembling the one from your birthday.

“Con” You slowly inched your face closer to his

“I'm sorry for all the hurt I put us through mami” His hand wrapped around your neck

“Déjame compensarte let me make it up to you” He closed the space between you.

It felt like the first breath taken after being underwater for a long time. You felt alive, felt loved. The once slow kiss grew into something more passionate. Both of you needy, as you fiend for dominance in the heated exchange.

Ultimately you lost the battle when his hands gripped your hips tightly as if to assure himself you weren't leaving again. It wasn't soon after that you found yourself in the back of his car with your legs resting on his shoulder as he drilled into you.

He littered kisses on your ankle as his grip on your hips tightened. His thick cock stretching you out had your eyes rolling back and moans of ecstasy coming out of your agape mouth.

“Yeah? You doing so good fa me ma. You miss this? Miss how good I fuck you?” His thumb found its way to your clit.

“Fuck, Connie” You whined. Attempting to push his hand away from the sensitive bud.

“Answer me princesa or ima stop” He warned

“Yes, Connie- mhmph I miss it so bad papi oh my god” Your velvety walls squeezed him tight.

"Fuuuck. Don't ever leave me again, you hear me? I can't take it, baby, I love you too much. T-try that shit again nd Imma make you watch while I put a bullet in between his eyes. Understand?” His pace increased.

God that shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did. You were convinced you could have come on the spot, the added pressure on your carotids when you didn't answer immediately wasn't any help.

“Y-yes Con, I promise it won't happen again” You managed to say in between the moans and whimpers that you no longer had the energy to contain.

“Keep squeezing me, mami. I'm so fuckin close” He groaned, hand no longer on your neck as it rested against the steamy windows to stable himself.

The atmosphere of the car was pure filth. Your moans bounced off the windows, the sloshing sound of your wet pussy and slapping skin that created the creamy ring around the base of cock topping it all off.

His thrusts were slowly getting sloppy, you were just squeezing him so tight.

“C-Con” You managed to gasp out, the marks he littered on your neck to suppress his whimpers, having the coil in your belly tighten.

“I know mama, let go fa me” He groaned.

That instant you came, eyes rolling to the back of your head for a quick second as your cream and small spurts of squirt leaked from your pussy.

“Shit mama” He panted, dick twitching as he painted your walls with his cum.

Connie being the lover boy he was despite repeatedly denying it whispered apologies, and sweet promises into your ear as you came down from your high.

“I'm sorry mami, I promise to be better” He kissed you softly as if you were in a fairytale before whispering in your ear.

“But don't think just cus we're good now, that I'm not gon tear that ass up when we get home for giving that loser a taste of what's mine.”

I dont know how i feel about this one buuutttt all thanks to @masterofthepp for giving me this idea. Hopefully it meets your standards babes. As always any feedback is welcome. mwah

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lucidfairies · 15 days ago

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LET'S PLAY

pairing: ghostface!Abby x reader x ghostface!Ellie

synopsis: you've always been afraid of scary movies, but when abby recreates one of her favorites with some help from her best friend... lets just say you face your fears.

warnings: fear kink (?), threesome, pussy eating, strap usage, gendered pet names, double penetration + anal [r! receiving], face riding [e! + r! receiving], scissoring [a + e], very brief gendered talk ("but my sweet girl can take it, can't she?"), unrealistic squirting

wc: 2k

a/n: hi guys! to be fully transparent with you guys, I've been extremely busy over the last couple of weeks and have no chance to write. on top of that I'm extremely under the weather right now, so this is the only Halloween shot I have written. 😭😭 I'm really sorry that it worked out this way, maybe I can finish and post the others later on!

it was halloween. finally halloween. and the conditions were perfect. the dark night sky was filled with grey clouds that stuck out from the moonlight, fog had been gathering all day, so that once trick or treating started for the little kids and partying started for the older kids, it was just right. you had different plans on your mind, though. tonight it would be just you and Abby, with movies, popcorn, and definitely some costumes.

in all honesty, halloween scared you in the slightest. the movies that Abby often wanted to watch were gruesome, and you wound up with your hands over your eyes, merely listening to the shrieks and stabbings. abby loved it, though, so you found it in your heart to get over it.

that fear, however, resurrected itself when the clock passed eleven, knowing she was supposed to be home at nine-thirty. you had texted her a number of times at this point, even called her, with no response. it was more than strange; in all the years you and abby had been together, she had never, ever missed a halloween.

at a certain point you sighed and got off the couch, accepting that she apparently just wasn't coming home. you went down to your room, changing and laying down to sleep. you tossed and turned, not used to a bed without her body in it. after a while, you laid on your back with a huff, grabbing your phone to text her again.

before you could press send, you heard an aggressive jingle of the lock on the front door. it didn't stop, and you were slammed with the feeling that someone was trying to to get in. someone was trying to to get in. a bat hid behind your door, and you ran over to grab it before leaving your bedroom. you looked over your shoulder, into every room, but you didn't see anything. the kitchen was dark once you walked into it, and as you went to flick the lights on, you felt a strong hand on your hip that pulled you back, covering your mouth with their other hand.

the bat was ripped from your hands by a second person, and you screamed, but the hand covering your mouth was gloved and masked the sound. you could feel the captors heart beating and their chest rise and fall.

“sorry I'm late,”

it was abby. abby who followed you through your house and abby whose hand was over your mouth. the lights flicked on and you were faced with a different person, dressed in a ghost face mask and it's matching rags. you pushed out of abby's grip and turned to face her, realizing that she also had a mask on.

“what the fuck abby?” you quietly shrieked. “what was that? you scared me.” the light caught the knife in her hand, and suddenly a pit developed in your stomach. it was fear, flat, undoubtable, fear. “why do you have a knife?” she walked towards you slowly until your back was against the wall.

“don't worry baby, we're just gonna play,” her large body encased you. “you remember ellie, don't you sweet girl?” you nodded slowly, tears welling up in your tear ducts. “my poor baby, don't cry, we're gonna be real nice to you.” when she said that, you finally came to the realization as to what was happening. this is why abby loves the scary movies. she likes the control; the fear. you relaxed. “do you trust me, pretty girl?” you looked at her through the mask and nodded slowly. “do you trust me to not hurt you?” you nodded again.

“let's play then, baby.”

that's how you ended up here, on your back, with ellie on your face and abby between your legs. ellie had a hand in your hair, forcing you to look up at her while you ate her out. she was grinding down on your tongue, chanting your name as she chest rose and fell quickly. she had definitely already come, but she was using you to get off.

abby, however, had a strap buried deep in your cunt. you two hadn't used a strap before, you didn't even know where she got it, all you knew and could think about was how much she was filling you. the mask was still covering her face, but you almost got off to it. she had your legs pushed up to your chest, drilling her hips into your ass over and over, going even after your orgasm had lit up your body.

finally she let up, but you knew you weren’t even close to done. ellie got off your face and they both looked at each other, as if they were coming to a conclusion by just looking at each other, then they both looked over at you. abby discarded her mask and tossed it into the pile of clothes, loosening the harness from her hips and throwing it along with everything else. “get up,” ellie said, replacing you as you stood up. “sit on my face, sweets. face abby like the pretty thing you are.” the position was weird, but somehow it worked. you were backwards on ellie’s face, but her skilled tongue still managed to find everything you needed just right.

abby lifted ellie’s leg up, shifting herself between her lifted leg and her dripping center, rolling her hips down until they were both moaning. with the hand that wasn’t keeping ellie’s leg steady, abby grabbed you by the throat and brought your lips to hers, moaning into your mouth as your tongues met. ellie was so good at eating pussy, you almost didn’t want to pick between her and abby. maybe tonight meant that you could have both of them whenever you wanted.

ellie fucked you with her tongue while her thumb found your clit, spreading your wetness and her saliva over it and rubbing in rhythmic, slow circles. you were all but pushing all your weight onto abby, who was still riding ellie’s pussy. now, though, her head was back, neck exposed. you regained your headspace slightly, just enough to run your lips along her neck and suck. your lips traveled to her tits, marking her in a way you hadn’t before.

you stopped as soon as you felt your orgasm building quickly, instead opting for your previous option of grabbing her for support. it seemed as if you both were in the same boat, because her face scrunched up in focus, like it did every time she came. your head was on her shoulder as you came, whimpering at just how good it felt. ellie didn’t let a drop miss her tongue.

abby stood up, and you zoned in on how both of their pussies were covered in each other’s cum. your pupils were wide, your mouth was basically hanging open with drool. abby looked at you and chuckled. “wanna clean me up, sweetheart?” you got up from the bed and kneeled in front of her, assuming that’s what she wanted you to do, and waited for her to spread her legs. she leaned against the wall and propped her leg up on your shoulder, letting you lap at her until everything was gone. it tasted so good, so much like abby with a hint of ellie. it was the perfect blend.

though you wanted to lick up ellie too, she had already cleaned off with a bed sheet. “I have one more thing to try, if you’re up for it, baby.” you nodded profusely, and both girls looked at each other with a smirk. “get on the edge of the bed in doggy.” you did as told, putting your knees on the edge of the bed and arching your back so that your face was in the comforter. “good girl,” abby cooed, reaching down to pick up her harness and clip it on again. ellie also pulled one out from the jumble of clothes, and you wondered where hers was going to go. in the bedside drawer, abby pulled out a small bottle of lube, which she must have snuck in at some point earlier in the day to prepare.

earlier, when all of this started, you didn’t need lube, so you couldn’t understand what that was for. until both girls walked behind you. you felt the tip of one of their straps rubbing against your ass and you leaped forward, ill prepared. “this is gonna be a big stretch, baby, but my sweet girl can take it, can’t she?” you hummed at abby’s words, sucking in a harsh breath as her strap entered a new place. it was certainly different, but it felt so good. it was just the stretch you wanted, and it got even better when you felt ellie running the tip of her strap up and down your folds.

when ellie pushed her strap into you along with abby’s, the earth froze. “fuck, babe, look at your slut,” from what you could see, they were both admiring the way your stretched for them. You weren’t going to deny that it hurt a little, but with the way they were looking at you and the way ellie kept hitting exactly where you needed to plus the stretch of both of them, it made up for the slight discomfort.

once they gained a rhythm, you had them railing you at the same time, strokes hard and fast, with ellie’s large, skinny hands wrapped around your waist to keep you up. your hands grasped the bedsheets tightly, listening to your body as you neared closer and closer to finishing. there was another feeling building, one you hadn’t felt before, but you made an effort to ignore it. The closer you got, the noisier you became, moaning and grunting with every thrust until you were twitching on the edge of release.

the weird feeling that you were ignoring came back hard and fast, sitting somewhere strange in your bladder. it was like the urge to pee, but with some form of pleasure to it. they pulled it out of you with their harshness, making you squirt hard as you finished. you rolled your hips back at how strong your orgasm was, tears running down your face and creating a pool on the comforter.

you felt strangely empty as they both pulled out, unclipping both of their harnesses yet again and tossing them. “you did such a good job angel. let’s get cleaned up.” you all showered together, then abby surprised you with matching pajamas. ellie was packing up her stuff and you frowned.

“stay,” you said, and she looked up at you and smiled. “we can watch a movie. you can leave in the morning. don’t drive home in the dark.” she sat her backpack down and climbed into bed with the both of you. abby rolled over to grab the remote and turned on scream, just for the irony.

taglist: @inukastan1 @elliecoochieeater @pepperflakess @hastasupern0va @jazzys19 @purring4elliewilliams @decaffeinatedclodbagelweasel @lonelyfooryouonly @heyimrye (if your not tagged it said your account did not exist, I apologize)

#abby anderson #tlou2 #abby anderson smut #tlou #abby smut #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #ellie x abby #abby headcanons #abby fanfiction #abby the last of us #abby x reader #ellie smut #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader

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mooishbeam · 1 year ago

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『♡』 Servant’s Secret

♡ featuring: ayato kamisato x f!reader

♡ summary: the commissioner catches you during some alone time, and decides that punishment is in order. wc: 2.1k+

♡ cw/tw: afab, unprotected sex, breeding, edging, overstimulation, spanking, humiliation, slightly sadist?, cunnilingus, mild degradation, pet names (bunny)

notes: hello! I read a lot of smut but never write it and it's been years since I've written anything so I figured I'd give it a try! sorry if I'm a bit rusty. let me know if u like it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

The commissioner was a busy man. When he occasionally visited the town, his honeyed words left a lasting pleasant impression on the public. However, Ayato would be gone many nights, returning haggard from cumbersome affairs. He flashes a gentle smile, reluctant to reveal the vitriol he harbored for these repetitive duties. He was a man to be feared, stopping at nothing to achieve his goals. Stern and prideful and clement. Only the most loyal companions could see him in this vulnerable state. Therefore, it came as a surprise to Ayato when he took a liking to you.

Maybe it was the way you accidentally beamed whenever he returned to you, awaiting his arrival like a loyal pet. “Welcome back, my lord.” You’d say in a monotone cadence. Though you were anything but when he wasn’t around. When you and Thoma had your weekly water fights in the kitchen during food prep he pretended not to notice. When your soft giggle echoed against the confines of his heart, he pretended not to notice.

Simply because the thought of you smiling for everyone but him was frustrating.

You were a lowly servant. You were careful not to disturb his tedious work. You felt he was much more important than you; a man this compassionate and protective over his people should be considered in the highest regard. Still, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks glow hot whenever he called your name, saccharine vibrations that sent shivers down your spine. Sometimes his gloved hand would graze against your shoulder or neck, leading you to wonder how it would feel in other places. He never caught you dozing off—or so you thought—but daydreaming about his lips decorating your neck was a daily occurrence.

Tonight, was a night like any other after finishing your tasks. As you wandered through the garden, the stars casted an orchestra across the welkin. You tell yourself repeatedly to repress the improper thoughts you had of him. But turning to the sky to cleanse your mind doesn’t always help, and so you return to your quarters for a more direct approach.

Sliding your hands between your legs, the only thing you can think about is Ayato’s delicate fingers working their way inside you, kissing the shell of your ear with light praises. Usually, you were more careful to lock the door and control your voice, but your senses were clouded with the stimulation of chasing your high. “Ayato...” you whimpered into the bed sheets continuously. Just as you were about to cum, a familiar voice approached the door. “(Y/N)? In the morning I need you to- “. Cracking the door open, Ayato caught a glimpse of your flustered, trembling figure.

It happened so fast you couldn’t register it. He immediately shut the door, followed by a quick “My apologies”. Your orgasm was immediately ruined, and you were mortified. You never prayed to an archon before now, but you called on all of them to save you in this moment.

Your plan was to avoid him at all costs. The only thing you could hope for was that he didn’t catch the moaning. Your tasks for the next two days were done quickly and quietly, too stricken by horror to bear seeing his face. Ayato immediately caught on, but the thought of chasing you was slightly amusing to him.

On the third day, your cleaning was just wrapping up.

“Excellent job today, (Y/N).” His presence this close to your ear was shocking and you almost dropped the duster in your hand. “Thank you, my lord. I’ll be going now.”

“Mm, no. I would like to speak with you privately.” He said, his lips slightly curling. You wanted anything but that right now.

“Have I… have I done something wrong my lord?”

“Have you?” He retorts, his eyes peering into yours. You felt all the air leave your chest. “I don’t think so, no.”

“Okay, come then.” His tone was almost commanding more than playful, and you knew not to protest.

In his quarters, you both sat quietly for some time. He leaned forward with his hands under his chin, staring at you from across the desk. You try your best to avert his gaze, but his eyes never leave you. The room feels so much smaller now, like a predator surrounding its prey.

“You’ve been avoiding me. Have I done something to offend you?”

“No, my lord” you reassure him, “I was just feeling a bit ill.”

“Ah, I see.” He lazily covered his mouth with one hand, attempting to stifle the sly smirk that creeped onto his face.

“I can’t allow my subordinate to fall under the weather. May I check?” You allowed him to get closer. He removed one glove and grazed his hand against your face, then the back of your neck, then your ears. You were burning up just from the contact of his bare hand.

“You feel hot. Looks like a bad fever.” You nod along, fueling the lie.

“Do liars commonly come down with the flu?”

“…What?”

“You were shaking and sweating when I caught you a few days ago, perhaps that’s a symptom.” You immediately knew what he was talking about and went into panic mode looking for a proper explanation. Instead of padding for more lies, you drop to your knees and bow your head.

“I’m so sorry, my lord. My actions were disrespectful and crude and this will never happen again.”

A soft ‘tsk’ came from Ayato. “Why are you using ‘my lord’ when my first name was commonplace on your lips not too long ago?” Nothing could make your life worse right now. You couldn’t find any other words and bowed your head again.

“I’m deeply sorry.”

“…So, what should I do? I can’t just allow this to go unpunished.”

“I’ll accept any punishment, my lord.”

His eyes darkened at this statement.

“Anything?”

“Your lying is more indecent than everything else. What did you say again?”

You were completely stripped naked and bent over his desk, your hands tied behind your back. It was an hour since you accepted your punishment, and you came three times already. A clit sucker is attached to your pussy, while Ayato sits back and curls his fingers into your dripping heat. Any rational thought you had sunk a while ago. “So- ’m so sorry my lord.” Your words teeter on babbling; mind foggy from his skillful digits. A sharp slap makes contact with your ass a few times, forcing your back to arch and send spikes of pleasure through your legs.

“I’d appreciate it if my pet was more honest. But it’s okay, I have no problem reteaching obedience.”

He sped up his fingers, matching the movement of your body writhing in pleasure. Your cum dripping down his gloved fingers made his cock twitch and grow in his tightening slacks. “Poor thing, your pussy is so puffy and sensitive. You’re not going to give up on me, right?” He detached the sucker from your clit and admired how swollen you were. The feeling of being empty made you whine, before he sent a stinging slap to your clit.

“Ah. No, my l- “Before you could finish, Ayato shoved his fingers covered in your essence in your mouth. You sucked on his fingers, and he tugged your hair roughly, forcing you to look up at him. “You are not to call me ‘my lord’ anymore. Only Ayato. Do you understand?” You nod through half-lidded eyes.

“Good girl.” He spread your backside to get a perfect view of the sticky mess coating your inner thighs and ass and licked a long stripe into you. The feeling of his wet muscle invaded your senses and turned your brain to mush. He ate you out like a starving man, grunting from the squelching noises that erupted from your core whenever he sucked on your folds. He stopped occasionally to catch his breath and went back in to lap up your juices.

“Please Ayato, ‘M gonna cum.” He was greedy and unforgiving, feeling his smile soaked in your arousal whenever you pulled away because it was too much. The raw sensation made your knees buckle, but your legs subconsciously opened wider for him. You just wanted to be good for him. Then he suddenly stopped.

“Are you sure you deserve it?” He cooed. You turn to meet his dark sadistic gaze.

“Please.” Your words are broken and fall to a whisper, tears spilling from heightened sensitivity. His smile is soft sunlight despite the look in his eyes, and he takes your chin within the caress of his palm. “When you misbehave, these things happen. I don’t think you deserve it just yet.”

Ayato cut the restraints binding your wrists and carries you bridal style to the plush bedding further in his chambers. He set you down like a delicate flower and began to strip. You try your best to cover yourself, but the numbness in your limbs protested. “Exposing yourself so shamefully in front of the commissioner, how errant.” He teases. Ayato finally springs his cock free, sticky with precum and desire. His veins meet the underside of his shaft and angry red tip, begging to be buried inside you. He steadies over you, placing a breathtaking kiss to trailing soft pecks and bites along your ear. It was stirring you up all over again, and you wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kisses. “Wan’ you.” You mumble between breaths.

“Do you? Beg for it.” You suddenly get shy, unable to find the words. “Tell me exactly what you want, my little bunny.”

“I want... I want you to ruin me. I need it bad Ayato please.” For some reason, verbalizing what you wanted was much more embarrassing, and he felt your reluctance. “This shouldn’t be too hard for you, right? What did you think about when you touched yourself to me?” His directness makes you cower. “Did I face-fuck you to tears or was I more passionate. Tell me everything.” Your breath hitched. “I want your cock deep inside me and I want you to breed me. I don’t want you to hold back, do whatever you want to me please.” This answer seems to satisfy him.

“Good girl.”

Ayato positions you into a mating press and in one motion shoves himself balls deep in your sex. His breath is ragged, and the feeling of your walls sucking and clenching around him perfectly drove him over the edge. He begins driving himself in and out of you from base to tip, squelching and slapping from his balls against your ass echoed throughout the room. His veins dragging along your most sensitive spots combined with the tuft of hair that made contact with your clit after each thrust make you dizzy. You're drowning in his scent and your heart is drumming in your chest. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” His words come out shaky. “My little bunny. You’re mine. Say it.” His thrusts get needier and rougher, and his whimpers turn to breathy whining. The coil tightening in your stomach threatened to snap at any minute, but you held on for permission.

“I'm yours, Ayato. Please-”

“Go ahead, cum for me bunny. Cum on my cock.” Stern, almost like a command, he speeds up and begins to rub circles on your abused clit. Your legs shake and you throw your head back along with your eyes. You came on him with a scream, violently clenching and pulsing around his girth. He doesn’t stop and fucks you through your high as he is approaching his. “Where do you want my cum?” Everything in you clung to him tightly, and so you begged for him to do it inside.

“Fuck- you’re such a good slut. All for me.” He finally reaches his climax, stuffing you to the hilt and spurting into you. Thick, hot cum fills you from the inside as he whimpers throughout it, feeling his cock twitch at times. He stays there for a while, making sure you were properly full. Making sure he owned you. You were so exhausted you ended up dozing off with him still inside.

You wake up to a sleeping Ayato, eyes lingering on the scratches littering his back. You were cleaned up, minus the dark bite marks dotted around your torso. The early morning sun reflected on him like an angel, and you wanted nothing more than to stay with him. Recollecting the hot daze on his face from the previous night, surely there wouldn’t be any harm in continuing this arrangement.

#ayato kamisato #ayato kamisato smut #ayato x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #ayato smut #genshin impact

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starsofang · 6 months ago

Text

Change of Heart

hitman!simon x f!reader / part 7

previous part

tw: NSFW, MDNI, don't wanna spoil but just be aware!

When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.

Good things don’t last. And both you and Simon were about to have a cruel reminder.

Simon stuck around after the two of you had shared the intimacy of a kiss. He didn’t let it go farther than just that, and neither did you. In fact, the rest of his time spent cooped up in your apartment was rather quiet and calming, despite the events that had taken place.

There was still fresh blood on his hands. He had let Ghost take over his senses and consume him in a blind rage, only to return to you as Simon, rage simmering into a flutter of calm.

Simon felt like he was lying to you. And truthfully, part of him was. You didn’t know about the realness of his job or what he did. You didn’t see the knives he embedded in unexpecting men and women, or the droplets of powdered poison slipped into their glasses at parties. You were blissfully unaware of the true nature of his being.

Simon couldn’t exist without Ghost, but Ghost could certainly thrive without Simon.

Ghost could also live without you. No – he’d have to live without you, at some point. Simon just didn’t want to.

He was being selfish and he knew it. He was taking advantage of a woman who had no business being involved with him, yet his heart was unable to let you go and finish the job, the job he’s always been destined to do until death did he part.

Simon had been lying to you, and now, all of it was crumbling down on him.

Price’s text stared back at him from the brightness of his phone screen. It was like staring into the eyes of death, causing his chest to fill with a sickening tightness that made it hard to breathe.

“We need to talk. You know where to meet me.”

So he left you. He made sure you were fast asleep in the comfort of your bed, sheets pulled up to your ears, and he selfishly allowed himself a minute to stare down at your snoozing figure. So peaceful, you were, eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes fanning beautifully across the tops of your cheeks. Your mouth was parted with puffs of air exhaling from your lips, ones he had pressed kiss after kiss against the night before.

Selfish.

The streets were busy as he walked, yet the impending doom that hung over him like a storm cloud muted the sounds and circled him in a bubble. He didn’t hear the chatter of people passing by, nor the cars that revved and honked from the roads beside him.

It was a cruel silence as he went, like his mind was shutting down all aspects of life in a cruel reminder of the ones he’d taken away.

Price resided in a remote apartment complex, one that showed just how much he worked for what he did. Killing people, just like him, but taking on a role on the side of watching over him as well as Gaz and Soap. Brothers they were, all of them, and now Simon feared he was fucking up the dynamic by being greedy.

“Ghost,” Price greeted as he opened the door. Simon gave him a curt nod and entered the residence, following behind Price.

The man in question was silent when he made way to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea. He offered Simon none in return, and Simon knew it was his subtle way of showing disappointment.

“Let’s chat,” Price mused, gesturing with a hand for Simon to join him in the living room.

Simon sat with his fists on his knees, back straight as a board, as Price sat in front of him in a much more relaxed state, leaning back and resting an ankle on his knee. He sipped at the tea, eyes boring into Simon’s.

“You fucked up, Simon.” Straight and blunt, cutting right to the chase. It stuck into Simon like a bee sting. “Killin’ a man outside of a job. Killin’ him of your own free will.”

Graves. The memory of his body, stabbed ruthlessly in his kitchen, his blood puddling the floor in a red mess, staining Simon’s skin an ugly crimson that he spent lifetimes scrubbing off. Mutilated, mangled, completely unrecognizable, all from Ghost’s doing.

“What the fuck were you thinkin’?” Price roared, displaying the layered frustration he had kept abay up until now. “This is your job, Simon, our job. You kill to get paid, not kill for your own pleasure.”

“I know.”

“You know, and still did it.”

“I fucked up.”

“Damn right you fucked up, Simon,” Price sneered. He stared at Simon with a look of anger, before it simmered down to one of muted frustration, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. He pressed his fingers to his eyes, squeezing them shut, before dropping his hand back down. “You need to let her go.”

“Who?” Simon asked, and Price scoffed.

“Don’t be coy. Gaz told me everythin’. Had Soap follow you around when you killed that Graves guy, saw you go back to your little bird’s place. You know who I’m talkin’ about.”

Fuck.

He’d been sloppy, all because of you. Simon never, in all his time of being a hitman, missed the feeling of watching eyes following him around. He never missed the hairs on the back of his neck standing up at the feeling of something or someone watching, observing, never missed the shiver running down his spine in a cold chill.

“This isn’t a fuckin’ game, Simon–”

“I know–”

“--yet you’re playin’ it like it is. This is a civilian’s life we’re talkin’ about, and not only did you kill Graves without payment, but you haven’t clipped your damn bird of her wings like she wants.”

Every single word was a harsh slap to the face, and Simon hated to admit that Price was right. He had rejected the job offer you’d given him from the very beginning. You wanted to die, you wanted to seek safe haven, yet he took that away from you. He wanted to save you, wanted to show you that life had meaning in its own ways, yet where were his reasons to stay?

Simon was a fucking hypocrite. Both to you, and himself.

“You know what you have to do, Simon.”

Simon stared at Price with eyes narrowed in confusion. He studied the firm lines that littered Price’s face, the way his mouth tugged into a frown, nearly covered by his facial hair. The tea he nursed was now growing cold in the presence of his lap, one hand curled around the handle with a white-knuckled grip.

“You can’t possibly ask me to do that,” Simon scoffed.

“I am, and I will. You either let her go and forget she exists, or you kill her off like you were intended to do in the first place. If you can’t handle it, then I’ll have Soap do it. Your choice.”

Price was giving Simon an option, though really, it wasn’t a choice at all. Either way, Simon would lose you, and he’d be forced to toss you aside like worthless garbage, or be forced to see the life drain from your eyes.

He fucked up, big time. He shouldn’t have brought this upon you. How selfish could he be?

Ghost was the person he was destined to be. Ghost was who he truly was. Up until he met you, he was content with that. He was the best of the best, and performed his job like it was a mundane task. Simple. Easy.

You slowed him down. You broke down the walls he’d so carefully built, brick by brick, all because you were a direct clone of who he used to be before he tread down this path of sinful bloodshed. He was an idiot to think he could have you without suffering the repercussions.

You didn’t deserve that, nor did you deserve a man like him – so broken and bruised, his heart too shattered to glue back together, not even by the tenderness of your own hands.

Maybe death really was the best ending for you. But Simon was a greedy bastard and couldn’t allow a world to spin without a piece of you occupying it.

“I’ll let her go,” he finally agreed. His tongue felt as if it were sharp as knives, slicing the gums of his mouth open with every word. Metallic saliva coated his tongue, filling his mouth with vials of blood. “I’ll cut off contact. Erase her number, forget she existed, so long as you don’t lay a hand on her.”

Price stared at him with an unreadable look. It was like he was pondering, examining, trying to crawl his way into Simon’s little mind and take a gander on what he was thinking. It was intrusive, invasive, and Simon looked away.

“She knows too much,” Price replied, tone much softer and sympathetic than before. “None of us want to hurt her, and her bein’ involved will only risk her safety. I’m happy you found somebody, Simon, I am. But you knew what you were gettin’ into. We can’t fraternize with the innocent, or else somebody else will just end up killin’ her instead of us.”

Simon scowled beneath his mask, crossing his arms over his chest in a defense mechanism. He didn’t want to admit that once again, Price was right, and Simon would’ve been the asshole that would’ve eventually gotten you killed or hurt.

Good things weren’t meant for people like him. You weren’t meant for people like him.

You were a flower in a blooming field of color, while he was the parasite that ate away at your soft petals.

Simon left Price’s with a sour taste in his mouth. It was bile rising in his throat and threatening to combust. It tainted his tongue with sickening acid, and no matter how much he tried to swallow it down, it grew stronger.

He lost track of how long he’d stared down at the messages on his phone, all from you.

“Hey, Si! Where’d you go?”

“Tell me when you have to leave for a job next time, dummy.”

“I’ll pick up some food for you later when you come by!”

Every message was a slice in the arteries of his heart. It filled him with aching pain, one nothing could ever smooth over. You were the bandages that held him together, and what was he? The bastard who took advantage.

He couldn’t let it end like this. He couldn’t click the block button on your contact, he couldn’t walk away like he should. Not without seeing you one more time – because that’s all he was. Selfish, selfish, selfish, a word that echoed in his mind on repeat like an irritating buzz.

Simon’s legs moved on their own accord, already mapping out the path towards your apartment. He knew you’d be home, he knew you were waiting for him to return like normal for his nightly endeavors in your presence.

He moved in earnest, strides long and swift, passing by people on the street without a second thought. He kept his eyes trained forward, not letting a single distraction stop him from seeing you.

Just one goodbye. That’s all he needed.

Making it to the front of your door, he found himself slamming his fist along it, the booming knock filling the hallway. He never knocked, it wasn’t his thing, yet here he was, mind so cloudy that it was the first thing he thought to do.

When the door opened and he saw your ruffled expression, he released a sharp exhale, one he thinks he’d been holding the entire run here. His chest visibly relaxed, shoulders slouching, hand dropping to his side once the door was tugged away from his knocking.

“Simon?” you asked, lifting a hand up to grab hold of his shoulder in attempts to keep him steady while he caught his breath. “You– are you okay?”

“I–” he sputtered, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Simon stared at you before pushing his way into your apartment, slamming the door behind him and locking it up tight.

Millions of thoughts raced around his head, and all of them revolved around you. Not a single thought went unnoticed by your being, and they fluttered around anxiously, like butterflies rapidly flapping their wings and crossing over one another.

“Simon,” you called out again, and he snapped his head to look over at you. Your face was filled with concern, eyebrows pulled together, lips pressed in a thin line. His eyes shifted down, watching the way you frowned. Even when you were taut up tight, you still made him feel dizzy at the sight of you.

Simon’s body moved on its own accord. It was like he lost complete control, instincts taking over.

He tugged off his mask in a frenzy, letting it fall to the floor, before he surged towards you and took your lips in his. The kiss was feverish, desperate. It had your body jolting backwards at the sheer force of it, but when you regained your composure, you quickly fell into his kiss like a helpless puddle of goo.

Limbs entangled with one another, his arms bracketing around your waist and holding you as if letting go would cause you to disappear forever. Your chest was pressed flush against him, leaving you no room to wiggle out, but you melted into him with ease, uncaring of the sudden display of need.

It was dizzying, staggering. It left your mind a fumbled mess.

“Si–” you attempted to croak, word getting cut off as he sunk his teeth into your bottom lip. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, sweetheart,” he breathed, nuzzling his face into the span of your jaw, lips brushing faintly against the skin. “I just need you. Please.”

You sucked in a shaky breath, hand coming up to tangle in the short locks of hair on his head. They were soft against your palm, and you smoothed them down.

“How–?”

“All of you. Please, sweetheart, just– you trust me, right?”

Selfish.

“Of course,” you mused. You felt him smile against your neck.

“Then please.”

“...Okay, Simon,” you whispered, because how could you deny the very man who did nothing but care for you to his best ability? Who saved you when nobody else was there to pick up the pieces and mend you together with the craftiness of their hands? “Okay.”

Simon breathed a heavy sigh of relief before pressing needy kisses along the expanse of your throat. Your head lolled to the side to allow him more access, mouth parting to release quiet gasps of surprise.

Every movement of his was unlike anything he’d done. He was always so calculated, so accurate and careful, yet this time, he was sloppy and unsystematic. It was as if he were only allowing his mind to take over, rather than logistics and realism.

The two of you moved in a clumsy dance, with him guiding you back towards the space of your bedroom with his arms unwavering around you and his lips continuing a messy attack on your neck. When you somehow made it past the door frame and into the comforting safe haven of your bedroom, his hands slipped down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up over your head in a hurry.

“Is everything okay, Simon?” you asked worriedly, and he smiled at you, a tinge of sadness lingering at the back of his pupils.

“Just want to spend time with my pretty girl. Can I do that, sweetheart?”

You blinked at him when his hands came to a standstill against your hips, thumbs lightly brushing over the supple skin. His expression was so soft, one he only reserved for you and nobody else. The lines along his face were smoothened into a tender look, and you couldn’t help but admire it with a smile.

“You always can,” you assured, missing the way Simon winced.

Simon rushed forward once again, and your mouths met in an uncoordinated mess of teeth and tongue. It was hot and heavy, demanding and eager, and it showed in the way he lightly pushed you back to rest on your bed.

One of his hands pressed into the mattress next to your head while the other glossed over your side, cold fingertips causing goosebumps to rise. You shuddered, resting your own hands on each side of his jaw, tangling yourself and getting thrown into his web of affection.

“Wanna touch you,” he rasped, fingers sliding down to the hem of the pajama shorts you had yet to change out of, toying with it but not daring to pry until your say so. “Please.”

You sucked in a breath before promptly nodding, and that was all he needed to slip his fingers past the waistband, dipping his fingers into the warmth of your cunt. He was greeted with sweet wetness, and he let out a quiet groan into the curve of your neck, pressing a messy kiss there.

The pads of his fingers scooped up a bit of your slick like candied nectar, before rolling it around your clit, causing your legs to jolt in surprise. Air filled your lungs, burning at the expanding of your chest, before being released in a blissful form of a sigh, eyes fluttering up at him.

“M’gonna take care of you, sweetheart, I promise,” he murmured against your neck.

Simon’s fingers continued to toy at your clit with a feverish motion, circling at a messy pace. It wasn’t steady, but it didn’t matter – it felt good, and it brought butterflies to swarm in your stomach, blooming at the newfound feeling.

He was so gentle in the way he treated you, yet balanced it out with subtle desperation that had your toes curling as he worked wonders against your cunt. He’d circle your clit, before dipping down to tease at the wetness that sopped out of your hole, just to slide back up to continue the torturous prodding against your sensitive nub.

“Fuck, Simon,” you breathed, voice cracking.

“Yeah?” he hummed, his voice laced with sultry sweetness to it. “That okay, pretty girl? Wanna ruin you, fuck.”

“Please,” you pleaded, and the shakiness in your tone had him kissing you once before sliding his lips down. His fingers slipped out of your shorts, and before you could protest, they tugged down the fabric, soft against your legs, before he dropped them on the floor.

His hands gently spread your legs, and without a single hint of warning, you felt the warmth of his tongue press flat against your clit while his finger eased inside of you. Stars burst behind your eyes and you let out a strangled noise, hand frantically grasping on to his hair and gripping.

It was like the heavens were opening in the clouds above, shining warm rays of light all over you and heating you up from the inside. It was a delicious feeling, the way he sucked and slobbered all over your cunt like a man on a mission, his finger fucking inside of you with earnest.

Messy sounds filled the room combined with your pitiful whimpers and gasps of his name, and they only egged him on further.

If this was the last time he’d ever see you, he’d make it count. Your pleasure was his, and nothing else mattered.

One finger quickly became two, and he created a rhythm between fucking you with his fingers and swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit. The stimulation had you keening, already teetering on the edge of insanity. Your mind was blank and void of anything but moans of Simon’s name.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he breathed into your cunt, making you whine. “Come on. Cum on my fingers, know you can.”

His voice sent vibrations straight through your body, and your back arched with a wail, thighs clamping around his head in a death grip. They shook with the aftershocks of your climax, but that didn’t stop him from swallowing down every bit of you until it became too much.

He only released you when your fingers tugged on his hair, and when he sat back, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Simon smiled at you, eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas, pouring over with nothing short of admiration and awe.

You laid on the bed, breathless and sated, a sheen of sweat covering the expanse of your skin. It glimmered in the dim light of your room, and he pressed delicate kisses along the salty sweetness, making his way up your body.

“So good, sweetheart,” he cooed. “Told you m’gonna take care of you.”

You could nothing but nod dumbly, eyes half lidded as you watched him reach down between your two bodies to fiddle with the buckle of his pants. It clanged together, filling the air with glimpses of what was to come next, and when he got it undone, he wasted no time in tugging them down until he was bare from the waist down.

The sight was beautiful. His cock was hot and heavy between his legs, a slight shine over the flushed tip from precum, and you felt your mouth begin to water.

This was Simon in all of his glory, and only you had been the lucky one to see it. What an honor.

“So pretty,” Simon breathed, causing your gaze to snap up from his cock and to his face. His mouth was parted as his large hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it lazily while he looked at you. His breath fanned over your mouth from the close proximity. “So beautiful. You know that, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Your mind turned to mush at his words. You squirmed against the bed sheets, shyly looking away from him. His free hand came up to gently grasp your jaw, drawing you back to look at him, and his smile knocked the wind out of you.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he repeated, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips.

The feeling of the head of his cock lining up with your entrance had you gasping into his mouth, and he smiled against you, eyes unwavering from yours as he stretched you open.

It was an ecstatic feeling, one that filled you to the brim with elation. It burned inside of you with flickering flames of want.

He continued to push, and push, until he was flush with you, fully seated inside of your warm, slippery heat. There was a scratch that only Simon could itch, and he knew this. It was why when he began to move inside of you, he started off slow before burrowing into a needy pace filled with smothering desire.

Simon rested his forearms on each side of your head, hovering over you while his hips snapped into you, greedily taking everything you had to offer. It sent you into a puddled mess, mouth hung open as throaty moans escaped every time he took more and more. Your fingernails dug into his biceps, grounding yourself as much as you could with the way your body jolted back and forth from the force of him fucking you.

Fucking? Is that what it was? It felt much more meaningful than that. Simon kissed you with sentiment, thrust into you with aching longingness, praised you like a goddess in the sky and you were his saint.

His groans and grunts filled your ears like lovely symphonies, each note sending goosebumps to rise along your arms and neck. It was a beautiful song, filling you with the wonders of emotions. You couldn’t get enough.

“My pretty girl,” he sighed. His own words seem to turn him on further, as his pace increased, becoming an aggressive slap of skin with every thrust. His cock dragged mercifully along the walls of your cunt, his leaking tip hitting the spongy spot and causing your body to go lax as you took and took. “What are you doin’ t’me?”

“Simon,” you whimpered, and he chuckled out a breathy laugh. With his forearms still resided on the sides of your head, his fingers interlocked on the top of your head, holding you firm against him and keeping you in place.

“So fuckin’ good t’me. Don’t deserve you.”

You clamped around him, causing him to groan. His pace was becoming messy and sloppy, but no less relenting.

“I’ll make sure you’re cared for. Won’t ever have to worry ‘bout anythin’ with me around,” he whispered, and you weren’t fully processing the words. To you, it was mindless babble that you simply took in through the hazy state of your mind, nodding eagerly at every empty promise.

The two of you were growing restless, your bodies building a molten core of unleashed pleasure that threatened to erupt at any given moment. It was hot and scalding, burning the pit of your stomach.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” he asked, almost mockingly. You cried, fingernails digging into his biceps so harshly, the skin nearly broke with pebbled drops of blood. “Yeah? Go ahead, I’ve got you.”

Your own body was betraying you, and you succumbed to the burst of bliss, chest pressing up against his, needy cries singing from your lips. Your eyes spotted with hints of black, the stimulation becoming overbearing.

Simon didn’t allow himself his own pleasure until you had yours, so when he felt you clench around him in a vice, he let himself go, spilling into you and flooding you with milky warmth. It coated your insides like a beautiful painting, filling you with douses of his undying affection.

He slumped on to you, face buried in the crook of your neck. The two of you laid there in comforting silence, catching your breaths and processing the new intimacy formed between you.

While you were riding on a cloud of euphoria, Simon was being dragged into the deepest pits of hell.

Selfish.

What a horrible person he was. All he had to do was let you go, but he did even worse than he had done before.

This was worse than killing men and women. This was worse than killing Graves out of rage.

He was going to leave you behind, make you feel like you meant nothing more than a calculated fuck, and he was going to burn in hell for it. All because he fell in love with you, all because he couldn’t kill you.

When Simon helped clean you up and buried you in your blankets, he waited until you were asleep, sedated and happy. Your frown lines were smoothed over with a look of peace and ecstasy, and he traced along the flush of your skin until he knew it was time.

He carefully made his way out of the comfort of your bed, movements slow as not to disturb you. He gathered his clothes, sifting them on with a hint of resentment for his own actions, and he left.

Just like that, he left.

Simon blocked your number without so much as a goodbye text, or an explanation, telling you that you did nothing wrong. He didn’t tell you that he was the issue, that he was the one in the wrong. Didn’t tell you he fell in love with you, and now he was facing the consequences for it.

He typed out one final message to Price, hoping to satisfy the bastard for what he forced him to do.

“It’s done.”

#cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw3 #cod x reader #ghost cod #john price #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #hitman au #cod fanfic #ghost

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ghxstwrites · 2 months ago

Text

One More Time?

Pairing: Non Idol! San x Reader, brief Yunho x Reader

Summary: You’d left San months ago after he stopped paying attention to you due to his busy work schedule, but you ran into him at a house party you never expected him to be at and things took a turn for the better.

WC: 2.2K

AU: Non Idol, Exes to lovers

Genre: Angst, Fluff, 2nd Chance!

Warning(s): Oh this one hurts. I promise there's a happy ending! alcohol consumption, panicking, mentions of breakups.

A/N: Thank you to my beta reader, @bunnliix

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society

Kinktober & Flufftober Masterlist

“Oh come on, Y/N” your friend nudged your arm. “You haven’t really been out since you broke up with San earlier this year.”

“I don’t know,” you look away from your friend. ”I still feel like it’s too soon…,” you look her way with almost a pout.

“Y/N,” She says flatly, “It’s been almost 8 months, atleast go out and enjoy something for yourself.”

You and San had been together since you were 17, you’d met him in your final year of highschool when you moved to Korea and you two hit it off almost immediately.

San was reserved and quiet but something about you made him fall shamelessly in love within just a few weeks. He still doesn’t know if it was your broken Korean in your native accent, or the fact that he’d found himself in another person.

The two of you went to the same college, which he convinced you to move in with him shortly before the start of your 3rd year, and everything had gone off without a hitch. The late night study sessions, the mutual celebration of academic milestones and achievements, and your graduation.

He wanted to marry you, he’d known for sometime he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He would never tell you that though, he wanted to wait until it felt right. He’d wanted you both to finish college and settle into your career fields, he wanted nothing more than to have a perfect family with you.

Until his idea of a white picket fence lifestyle started becoming clouded with the harshness of reality.

Now that college is over, you realize just how little your careers had to offer. After several months of looking, San found something, it wasn’t great but it got his foot in the door and that’s what he wanted, but it made him exhausted everyday.

The days got longer and the time with you got shorter and it wore on him, but you were the love of his life.

It all hit him so harshly when he came home from the longest day that he’d had yet, and the coldness hit him. Something wasn’t right, something was different and not in a good way.

He’d seen it from across the room, a note on the fridge, the fridge filled with pictures of you two, nothing but happy memories. He crosses the room and picks up the piece of paper to read it and as he does the world around him shatters.

You left.

While he was gone, you’d packed up your things and moved back in with your parents. He stands there with the note in hand as he tries his damndest to figure out where it all went wrong - did he not love you enough? What did he fail to notice?

The light of his life, the one he was planning to spend the rest of his life with.

You’d left him.

You sighed, you knew your friends were right. You’d spent 6 years with him, spending 8 months trying to get over that didn’t feel like nearly enough, then again you weren’t convinced you’d ever be over it.

You had to try though, right?

“Fine, at least they’re mostly your friends,” you look at your friend, defeated. “I won't have to deal with questions about him.”

Both of you had walked into the house party, there were already a sizable number of guests present as you made your way through the party, being dragged by your friend through a crowd of unfamiliar faces.

She finally reaches the kitchen, and she immediately pours you both a drink. You reluctantly accept the drink with a questioning look.

“Social lubricant, you’re rusty babe,” she smirks at you, taking a sip of her own drink.

You wanted to argue but she was right, you’d felt like a hermit most of the past year. You’d stayed to yourself and kept quiet when at work. You felt lost, like you’d moved here fresh all over again after your break up with San.

It took you weeks to stop instinctively driving back to your shared apartment, after long days at the office when it’d be dark, muscle memory drove you back.

A few times you contemplated just walking in, apologizing, but you didn’t.

You finish your drink quickly without thinking about it as you chat with your friend, you grab another as she walks through the crowd with you.

“There is this guy I work with, he’s in the IT department, I want you to meet him - I think you’d like him!” She practically yells over the music as you walk out onto the back patio.

After looking around briefly she spots him, a tall and lanky boy, she smiles dragging you with her.

“Yunho!!” she calls out across the yard, causing the boy to look up.

Oh… He was very attractive.

You follow closely behind as you both walk up to him, he was taller than you’d first seen and he had beautiful dark brown hair, watching him smile could light up a room.

“And this is my friend, Y/N,” you’re pulled out of your trance as your name is called, causing you to look up at him as he extends his hand.

“Yunho, was it?” you question him as he nods softly.

“Oh would you look at that, one of my work friends just showed up, I’ll be back to check on you guys in a bit!” she smirks as she runs off before you have the chance to say anything.

“So, she’s told me quite a lot about you at work,” Yunho smiles softly

You turn your focus back to him, noticing his bright smile. “I’d hope it’s all good,” you can’t help but chuckle, finding the man's presence comfortable.

“I’d like to think so,” He pauses, taking you in as the two of you stand there in comfortable silence. “So, Y/N, are you… seeing anyone right now?”

You look at the man, slightly shocked.

“N-no,” you stutter, the question seeming to catch you off guard.

He quirks his eyebrow, but chooses to pay it no mind since your friend had let him know you were most definitely single.

Just as you were about to reply with something, your eyes happened to catch a familiar face out of the corner of your eye.

Choi San

What the hell was he doing here? The two of you after the break up never ran in the same circles. You felt every emotion all at one time, and it hit you like a ton of bricks. Not wanting to be rude, you excused yourself from Yunho. You promised you’d catch up with him later, but you needed to go find your friend.

You’d made your way through the crowd of people, being very careful to not tip San off that you were here. You run up to her, pulling her out of conversation as tears threaten to spill.

“Woah, hey! Chill, what happened?” she looked concerned as she held onto you.

“San’s here, I just saw him, we need to leave,” you frantically speak

She cranes her head up and looks around, she doesn’t see the taller boy anywhere, not even in the backyard.

“Y/N, honey, I think the drinks are getting to you.. I don’t see him,” She reassured you.

You blinked away the tears in your eyes as you looked around, seeming to agree with her.

“You’re right.. Maybe, just… someone who looks like him,” You sigh.

You’d made your way back outside to find Yunho, who had long disappeared at this point, so you’d settled into a crowd of people. The thought of San settling back into your head, what if he really was here?

No, she was right, your old apartment was too far from here, unless he’d met someone close. The thought both broke your heart and infuriated you. You had decided to go grab your 4th? 5th? Drink of the night, you’d lost count an hour or so ago. You made your way through a crowd of people before you stumbled into someone's broad back.

“I’m sorry! I was -,” you paused, as you looked up to greet the stranger attempting to spew apologies, you met a familiar pair of eyes.

“San…?” You spoke softly.

“Y/N….,” his voice sounded broken, he clearly didn’t expect to find you here either.

You broke your eye contact after what felt like an eternity, trying to push by him in an attempt to hide your tears from him. He grabs your arm, turning you back around to face him.

“Can we talk? Please?” He begs as the grip on your arm loosens.

You search his eyes for a moment before sighing, “I’ve never been able to tell you no.”

His signature smile beams at you as he gestures to the sliding glass doors signaling for the two of you to head outside.

The air felt different as you stepped outside with San, almost colder and even more dense. You’d noticed the attendees outside had thinned out. You felt scared, you weren't sure why either. San would never do anything to hurt you, no matter how bad you’d hurt him. Maybe it was the fear of facing him after so long. He’d pulled you to the side of the deck, leaning against the railing as he took one last look at you before speaking.

“I missed you..,” he spoke softly.

Your heart immediately broke, you knew what you did and there was a part of you that knew you wouldn’t be able to outrun it.

Not forever.

“I… I missed you too,” you choked out, unable to look at him. ”Probably for a lot longer than you’ve missed me.”

He bit his lip, attempting to hold back his tears.

He knew, he finally put the pieces together weeks after you’d left. He was never around, there were nights you’d be asleep and his dinner had been cold or put in the microwave as an attempt to keep it warm. Your days off he was exhausted and his days off you worked.

The job he’d gotten propelled his career forward, the long nights and strict performance reviews had been worth it, but not at the cost of doing what he did to you, to what the two of you built together.

“Y/N, I.. I’m sorry.. I was selfish,” his voice was shaky, “I was so focused on trying to make our life perfect, I neglected the most perfect part of mine.”

His eyes were glossy as he looked back at you.

“I never saw you anymore San, the times I did you were asleep or the rare nights we were actually able to sit down for dinner together,” you broke, tears fell down your cheek as you brought your hand up to your face.

“I left that job,” he spoke plainly.

“After you left I worked, maybe for another month, until I realized it drove us apart,” He chokes out, tears welling in his eyes.

You made eye contact, you both were vulnerable with each other for the first time in what felt like years.

“I wanted to, no, I should’ve reached out,” he admits, “But I was a coward, I was sure you hated me, and that's the reason you’d left without much of a word.”

“It took me months to break myself of the habit of showing up at our old home,” you share.

It must’ve been the alcohol fueling these confessions, the tears, otherwise you’re not sure you’d be standing here with him like this.

“Every hard day at work, my brain wanted to come home, and it recognized you were home, San,” you dry your face before looking back at him. ”I can’t tell you how many times I sat in our driveway or across the street contemplating on coming back… apologizing for leaving the way I did.”

“I wish you did…,” he chuckles softly, “I would have welcomed you back with open arms.”

You stand there, speechless. The man before you should hate you, you walked out a life the two of you spent years building together.

But he didn’t.

He stood there, his feline eyes drinking in every detail of you, the way you’d cut your hair since the breakup, the necklace he bought you was missing, the way your eyes sparkled with the reflection of the porch light, and the way your face turned so pink when you drank.

He missed it. He missed you.

He smiled at you, a smile you had no reason to be on the receiving end of.

“Byeol misses you too, she sleeps on your side of the bed most nights,” he tells you, chuckling.

“You never moved on?” you reply softly.

“I never dreamed of it…” He said “You were all I ever wanted, and I never got closure… I was hopeful I'd find you again, no matter how long it took.”

He reached out and grabbed your hand.

“This may be selfish, and you have every right to hate me but…,” he pauses, “Am I asking too much to try again? One more time?” He looks at you, you can feel the amount of love he still holds for you.

You smiled at him. Closing the distance between the two of you, you wrap your arms around his neck in a tight embrace. He’s taken aback at first, but it doesn’t take long before he wraps his arms around you just as tight.

You whisper softly, barely loud enough to hear.

“One more time.”

327 notes · View notes

betweenstorms · 19 days ago

Text

Part Six of Where We Part (previous chapter) (next chapter) (masterlist) Childhood Friend!Simon x fem!Reader

Exactly five days had passed since Simon Riley’s last visit, and true to his word, there he was again, standing at your doorstep in the quiet lull of an overcast afternoon.

The clouds hung low that day, full with the promise of rain, but the city outside remained still, suspended in waiting, where time seemed to stretch, holding out it's hand for the storm to break. You had felt it coming somehow, the inevitability of his return, as if the universe had carved out this moment for the two of you.

Simon was dressed in simple, plain clothes as before, plus that damn mask that shrouded half his face in mystery. His hazel eyes, though, were unmistakable, cutting through the soft grey light that filled your small apartment. There was something different this time. The first visit had been sudden, unplanned—an unspoken reckoning between the two of you. But now, there was a gentle certainty to his presence, like he had come here with purpose.

And you were ready for him.

The past week had been a strange blur of careful planning and tempting hope. Each day, you’d found yourself cooking more than necessary, always for two, even though you were the only one in the apartment. Each time you did, you felt a little foolish, like you were preparing for a guest who may never arrive, but you kept at it. It had become a sort of evening ritual, a way to keep your hands busy, your mind distracted. You’d convinced yourself that you were just being practical, that having extra food ready was a good habit to get into, but in the back of your mind, you knew the truth. You were waiting for him, hoping that he would come back.

As you opened the door for him, you could feel the flutter of nerves in your stomach, but it wasn’t the same overwhelming rush of emotion that had floored you the last time. The tension between you wasn’t as suffocating, though it still hummed in the air. You met his gaze with a shy smile, and even though he didn’t return it, there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Recognition, perhaps. Or maybe just relief that he hadn’t startled you again.

As you moved about the kitchen, setting the table, you could feel Simon’s sharp eyes on you, watching silently as you went through the timid motions of domesticity.

There was something almost surreal about it, how easily he had slipped into your life, into the rhythm of your days, despite the years of distance and the weight of everything unspoken between you.

“Hope you’re starvin’, cause I cooked,” you joked, your voice soft but carrying a note of pride.

He paused, his gaze shifting to you, and for the briefest moment, you saw it. Surprise, so subtle that most people wouldn’t have noticed it. But you did. Because you always did. For a man like Simon, who had probably seen and endured things beyond your understanding, it was hard to catch him off guard. But somehow, this had done it. You weren’t sure if it was the food or the fact that you had prepared for his visit, but either way, something had surprised him.

Simon sat down without a word, and you followed suit, sitting across from him at the small, worn table. The plates were mismatched, and the silverware was old, but it felt right, like the two of you had found a quiet corner of the world where the past could be left behind.

You ate in silence for a while, the sound of cutlery scraping against ceramic the only noise in the room. You tried not to observe him too closely, but you couldn’t help sneaking glances in his direction, noting the way he ate in a methodical way, as if food were just another task to be completed. Like it was sustenance.

But still, he ate everything you had made.

Feeling a bit braver, you tried to engage him in conversation, asking questions about where he had been, what he had been up to.

But, as expected, Simon deflected your questions. His answers were all vague, if he gave any at all, and more often than not, he responded with a noncommittal grunt or a quiet huff that left you with little to work with. It was like trying to pry open a door that had been stuck for years, but you knew better than to push him too hard. It frustrated you, yes, but you had come to accept it, in a way.

You knew that Simon’s life was full of things you would never be able to understand, things he carried alone. He didn’t talk about himself, didn’t share his burdens. It wasn’t in his nature.

But he did ask about you.

It was subtle at first, his questions slipping into the conversation like afterthoughts. He asked how work was going, what you had been doing lately, how your parents were. Safe topics. Ordinary things. You answered to all of them dutifully, at first feeling incredibly awkward, unsure if your life could possibly hold any interest for someone like him. However, there was something in the way he looked at you that made you feel like he genuinely wanted to know, like he was trying, however clumsily, to bridge the gap between you.

At first, you had been nervous, scared that your life was far too dull to hold his interest. What did you have to offer to someone like Simon, really? Your job was nothing special, your days were uneventful, and your life felt small in comparison to the things you imagined he had seen and done. But when you noticed that he was actually paying attention, that he wasn’t just asking out of politeness, something shifted inside you. His gaze never wavered from you, and though he didn’t say much, you could feel his undivided attention, his magnetic presence, in the way he sat there, letting you fill the space between you, only with your words.

So you told him about the small things.

The way the shop down the street had started selling your favourite lemon biscuits again, how your neighbour had adopted an absurdly large dog that barked at everything that moved, how you’d been thinking about taking up creative writing again, though you hadn’t found the time. Then, you told him about the music you’d been listening to, the films and series you were hoping to watch, even the latest book you’d picked up.

You watched his stoic face as you rambled on about your day, the corner shop, your plans for the weekend. Simon wasn’t the kind of man who offered much in return, his responses were still clipped, mostly just a nod or a grunt, but there was a subtle warmth in his attention. You saw the slight twitch of his lips, the occasional raise of an eyebrow, signs that he was more engaged than he let on. It was as if, for the first time since you were a child, someone was truly listening to you, hearing you, without judgement or expectation.

And that made all the difference.

As an adult, you tend to fade into the background, even in the eyes of your own parents, who no longer find your life as fascinating as it once was. It becomes rare to meet someone who is truly interested in you. As a child, everything was easier. Friendship came effortlessly, falling in love felt light and unburdened, and emotions flowed like crystal water. Adults would smile down at you, ask about your weekend plans, your schoolwork, even your little crushes, as if your life held some fond magic. But next to Simon, for a fleeting minute, you felt like a kid again, as though you were still filled with that magic. And you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude—for Simon and for the way he made you feel like you mattered again, even for just a second, like you were something worth adoring.

After dinner, he helped you with the dirty dishes.

You almost laughed out loud at the sight of him, this hulking figure built like a bloody fortress, standing at the sink, washing plates and cups like it was the most normal thing in the world. The kitchen felt even smaller compared to him, his broad shoulders brushing against you as he reached for the plates, and that made your heart press against your ribs, threatening to burst. There was something so tender, so wonderfully domestic about the scene, something you never imagined you’d have with him.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, handing him a dripping plate.

He took it without a word, his large hands handling it with such care that seemed out of place for a man of his size. But that was Simon, wasn’t it? Always full of contradictions.

After the dishes were done, you made a suggestion—an invitation to show him the little shop down the street you’d mentioned earlier, the one with the delicious lemon biscuits.

You didn’t expect him to agree, but to your surprise, Simon gave a small nod. It was strange, seeing him agree to something so ordinary, something as simple as a walk to the nearby shop, but you didn’t question it. You didn’t want to ruin the moment.

So, you slipped on your jacket, and together, you ventured out into the cool evening air.

Simon wore his mask, even for such a short walk, and though it puzzled you, you didn’t press him about it. He had his reasons, and oddly, that was enough for you.

As you walked down the streets, you noticed how the grey world seemed to shrink around the two of you. The city faded into the background, the sound of distant traffic becoming a hum that didn’t quite touch the space you two occupied. You told him how the owner had a strange habit of stacking the shelves in a particular way and how the colourful sign of the shop had faded to nearly nothing since you moved here. Simon listened, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his gaze drifting over the neighbourhood but always coming back to you.

When you reached the tiny shop, you bought three packets of biscuits, a small indulgence you couldn’t resist.

As you walked back, you shared them with him, handing over a piece without thinking twice. His surgical mask made it a bit of a challenge for him to eat them, but the way he handled it, with such simple grace, surprised you. As if eating with a mask was something he’d mastered a long time ago. Nevertheless, you only smiled at him.

The months that followed were some of the happiest of your life.

Simon’s visits became more frequent, though never scheduled. Sometimes he would appear at your door unannounced, and sometimes he’d let you know he was coming, with a punctuated, short message that always felt like it carried more weight than it should. However, each time he showed up, your heart would lift, if only for a little while. There was a quiet understanding between you, a habitual rhythm that developed naturally, as if fifteen years apart had simply folded into the space between you without effort.

You began to treasure the time you spent with him, the quiet moments that made up the fabric of your strange relationship.

Late-night talks on the balcony of his apartment, where the two of you would smoke cigarettes and watch the city lights flicker in the distance, your voices hushed in the golden glow of streetlights. Cooking meals together in your tiny kitchen, where he would stand at the stove, helping you chop vegetables with the same precision you imagined he used in the field. Watching films and series you wanted to share with him, the two of you sitting side by side on your worn-out sofa, the space between you shrinking as the months passed.

It was the simple things, the mundane moments that you found yourself clinging to.

You were always struck by how he fit into your boring life, seamlessly slipping into your routine as if he had always been there, right next to you. Grocery shopping together, wandering through the aisles of the supermarket or the farmer’s market, picking out fresh produce while Simon trailed behind you, always quiet, always present.

Walking through your neighbourhood, pointing out places that held some meaning for you, while he listened with the same attentive intensity, nodding occasionally as you spoke. There were moments when the conversation was light, filled with teasing and sarcasm, and other times when silence stretched between you two, comfortable and unpressured. It was in those moments of stillness that you felt the most connected to him, as if words weren’t necessary to understand the weight of what lingered unsaid.

But the thing you appreciated most was the talking.

Even though Simon was a man of few words, over time, you began to unravel him, bit by bit. It was a painfully slow process, peeling back the layers, but you cherished every fragment of him he allowed you to see. You learned that beneath his gruff exterior and his hardened past, Simon had a dry, morbid sense of humour that made you laugh in a way you hadn’t in years. His wit was sharp, his sarcasm biting, and yet it was never mean-spirited. You found yourself looking forward to his jokes, when he would throw a quip your way, the corner of his mouth quirking in the closest thing to a smile you’d seen from him. And you loved it.

Oh, how you loved it.

You loved the way he made you laugh, the way he looked at you when you were together, the way he seemed to feel at ease in your presence. You loved every moment you spent with him, no matter how small or insignificant. You loved him in the quiet, in the way he listened to you rambling, in the way he paid attention to the smallest details of your life. You loved him in the way he let you into his rugged world, without ever making it feel forced or unnatural. And, slowly but surely, you began to realise that you were falling in love with him.

It wasn’t a grand, sweeping realisation.

Falling in love with Simon Riley was like the gentle embrace of the rising sun, a warmth that crept into your icy soul without fanfare or grand gestures. There was no single moment when everything fell into place—no sudden clarity or lightning strike of realisation.

Rather, it unfolded gradually, like the soft glow of dawn spreading across the horizon, casting its light quietly, almost imperceptibly, until the cold ground was warmed beneath your feet. It wasn’t until you stood there, basking in the radiant comfort of his presence, that you realised just how deeply he had become part of you, the warmth of him seeping into your very bones, making everything feel softer, brighter, without you ever noticing the shift.

At first, you tried to fight it, wrestled with the feelings that threatened to overtake you every time he crossed your mind.

You forced yourself not to think about him when he was away on deployment, not to let your heart leap at the thought of his return. You made every effort not to seem too eager when you were with him, not to act like a schoolgirl caught up in her first crush.

Bloody hell, but it was impossible.

When he made you blush, you looked away, pretending the burning heat on your cheeks was from something else. When his eyes met yours, catching you in the act of staring, you quickly turned, as if you hadn’t been completely mesmerised by him. And when your hands brushed, just the briefest of touches, you shifted, heart racing, trying to ignore the intoxicating pull that came with the smallest contact.

No matter how many years had slipped by since the days of your childhood, no matter how long you’d been an adult, standing next to him made time blur in a way that was both haunting and comforting. It was as if the weight of the years dissolved whenever you were near him, pulling you back to that distant time, so far away it almost felt like it had belonged to another. In his presence, you were that child again, caught in the same quiet awe, the same unspoken connection, even after all the miles you had walked apart.

And yet, you fought it with everything you had.

And he must have noticed.

Simon saw the signs, read the signals you didn’t mean to give away, and in his silent way, he respected them. He didn’t try to get closer. He was there, returning to you, keeping his promises, but there was a careful distance, an invisible line neither of you dared to cross.

Since the day he told you he had read your letter, he kept his space. He stood just far enough to be present, but never touched, never pressed, as if he understood your hesitance in the way you withdrew as well as his own.

You didn’t know why you looked away, why you pulled back from him, why his touch made you retreat when all you wanted was to feel him closer. It terrified you, this primal instinct to shield your heart from the very thing it craved the most. Because deep down, you knew—

—you loved him.

But love, for you, had always been tangled in something darker, something messy and painful. Everything you ever loved had faded, slipping through your fingers like sand, no matter how tightly you tried to hold on. The long, golden days of summer spent with your grandparents, the laughter-filled, drunken nights with high school friends, the passionate, young love with your ex-fiancé, your mother’s blooming rose bush, once so full of life—everything you cherished had withered, just like you had.

So how could you tell him?

How could you ever admit that you fell in love with him, when you were so certain that love was tied to loss?

To let him know, to say the words aloud, felt like signing your heart away to another disappearance. You couldn’t bear to watch him slip away too, to see him fade into the same oblivion where all the things you once held dear now lived. The fear of loving and losing had rooted itself deep inside you, so you kept Simon at arm’s length, not because you didn’t love him—but because you did, you desperetely did, and that scared you to death.

You tried to convince yourself that this was enough.

That loving him in secret was enough to keep him close, enough to soothe the longing that bloomed in the quiet corners of your heart. It had to be enough. You couldn’t bear the thought of risking more, of laying your heart bare, watching it bleed to death. You didn’t want to hold his memory longer than you had held him. The idea of losing him, of watching him slip from your life like everything else you had ever dared to love, was far more unbearable than never speaking the truth aloud.

So you settled for silence.

It was the beginning of November when you two met again, a month heavier with the bite of cold winds, the days darkening earlier, and the air growing sharp with the crisp scent of fallen leaves. You could feel the promise of winter in the cold air, the way it clung to your skin and seeped into your bones, even after you’d bundled yourself in layers before stepping outside. The city had taken on a grey, muted tone, the kind that made everything feel distant and quiet, like the world was holding its breath.

It had been weeks since you and Simon had shared any significant time together. His work had consumed him more than usual, drawing him further into whatever grim business he was tied up in.

You understood, of course.

Simon’s professional life was a complicated web of responsibilities, ones you couldn’t begin to unravel, but you couldn’t stop feeling his absence like a weight in your chest, a quiet ache that gnawed at the edges of your thoughts. That’s why, when you finally managed to pin him down for an evening, you decided to do something different. Instead of the usual quiet nights at yours, you had dragged him to the cinema for a change. Maybe a night out would shake up the routine. He had agreed, somewhat reluctantly of course, but you knew by now that Simon rarely said no, well, not to you and not outright, even when he wasn’t particularly enthused about something. Your idea seemed pretty sound at the time—a bit of mindless fun, a chance to forget about life for a couple of hours.

But halfway through, you began to regret it.

Despite his compliance, it had hardly seemed to hold his interest.

The film, Thanksgiving, had been a bloody mess of cheap jump scares and gruesome deaths, the kind of silly horror that mainly thrived on shock value. It wasn’t your typical choice, but you thought it might be fun. You could laugh at the absurdity of it all, maybe even hide your face in Simon’s shoulder during the worst bits. However, you caught him with his eyes closed at one point, and though you couldn’t be sure with Simon, it looked like he was trying to sleep through the entire thing. You felt a twinge of guilt for dragging him out of his comfort zone, but it was hard not to smile at the ridiculous way he handled it.

Now, as you sat in his car, the evening pressing against the windows, you rubbed your hands together, trying to chase away the embrace of autumn. The scent of leather and something distinctly him filled the small space, grounding you in the moment. It was strange how his presence, as imposing as it could be, brought a sense of calm.

Simon shortly joined you, his usual surgical mask firmly in place, obscuring half of his face, but leaving those sharp, assessing eyes visible. You could see the faint lines of a frown etched into his brow. God, he truly wasn’t impressed. But you couldn’t help yourself.

“Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

He shot you a look so lifeless it was almost comical, as if your inquiry was the most ludicrous thing he'd ever heard. It wasn't meant to be, but it was really funny. The way Simon could reduce any situation to its barest, bleakest elements always amused you, especially when you knew he had probably seen far worse in real life.

“Watchin’ people get butchered over a roast dinner’s not my idea of fun, love,” he muttered, voice low and gravelly, as he buckled his seatbelt.

You snorted, your breath misting up the window a little.

“Not a fan of festive slasher films, then?” You hummed. “Could’ve fooled me. Wouldn’t have thought you of all people would be such a film snob.”

“Just not a fan of shit films,” he deadpanned, turning the key in the ignition.

You giggled, the sound bright and unexpected, cutting through the solemnity of the moment, and for a second, you forgot about the cold seeping into your bones, forgot about the distance that had grown between you both these last few weeks. It was so Simon, his dry attitude never seemed not to amuse you.

“Alright alright, I’ll pick somethin’ better next time, promise” you offered, leaning back into your seat, watching the rain start to dot the windscreen in light, lazy taps.

He didn’t respond, not verbally at least, but the slight dip of his chin told you he’d accepted the truce. His eyes were focused on the road ahead as he eased the car into gear and pulled away from the parking lot, the city lights blurring into a mosaic of greys and muted yellows.

You were just about to continue your lighthearted roasting of the film when something caught your attention.

Nestled in the door pocket, half-hidden by your handbag, was a small, familiar box. Pushing aside your bag, you reached for it and recognised the brand instantly. It was the same one as your favourite snack, those lemon biscuits you loved so much, but this one was peach-flavoured. Your heart leapt a little at the discovery. A bright smile spread across your face as you held the box up to Simon, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips.

“Where the hell did you get these? Only ever had strawberry ones, but they taste like that god-awful medicine my mum used to force on me as a kid. But peach? My goodness, this is a fuckin’ revelation.”

Simon only shrugged, his eyes still on the road, as if it were nothing, as if his attention to this small detail in your life hadn’t just made your entire night.

“Saw them in Berlin,” he said simply, his voice almost casual.

You held the box of sweets like it was something precious, turning it in your hands as if doing so would reveal more about his thought process. It felt heavy, not because of the contents, but because of the meaning behind them. A small gesture, perhaps to him, something you would do for a friend, but to you, it was monumental.

He had thought of you.

While away, while on deployment, in the middle of whatever chaos he entailed, his thoughts had drifted to you. Enough for him to notice something as simple as biscuits, to pick them up and bring them back, just for you. Your heart swelled painfully in your chest, beating faster than it had any right to. You turned away from him, pressing your sweaty palm to your cheek as if that would somehow hide the flush rising to your cheeks. Your hair, thankfully, provided some cover.

The weight of your affection for him felt almost too much in that moment, as if your heart might burst under the pressure of it all. You loved him already, but every time you thought you couldn’t fall any further, Simon would do something incredibly thoughtful, and it would send you tumbling all over again.

You murmured a soft “thanks,” under your breath, your voice almost swallowed by the steady hum of the vehicle. Your fingers played nervously over the edges, then, clearing your throat, you asked, “Mind if I open it?”

Simon huffed, glancing at you for a brief second before refocusing on the road. “Brought ’em for you, didn’t I?” The tone in his voice was that signature Simon blend of exasperation, as though the mere notion that you’d need his permission was absurd.

You grinned, eager and unashamed now, looking down at the box one last time before diving in, tearing open the packaging with the same enthusiasm you’d had as a child on Christmas morning. The fruity smell hit your nose immediately, sweet and delicate. You took a biscuit, biting into it with a hum of appreciation.

“Shit, they’re delicious,” you offered him one without even thinking.

He shook his head, eyes still fixed ahead. “Not for me.”

You weren't surprised.

Simon didn’t seem the type to indulge in overly sweet things, not unless you counted tea and the occasional glass of whisky. His refusal didn’t dampen your spirits, of course.

The warmth of the treat spread through you, a sharp contrast to the damp evening that loomed just outside the car windows. The rain had started in earnest now, the soft pattern turning into a steady beat against the windscreen. You watched as the droplets raced down the glass, your mind drifting as the city lights blurred into streaks of amber, ruby and gold.

Finally, the quiet between you both wasn’t awkward.

It didn’t demand anything from you anymore. It had taken months of tentative conversations, stolen glances, and hesitant touches, but now, the silence had transformed. It felt like a shared language, a kind of intimacy beyond words. You could sit there for hours, side by side, saying nothing at all, and it would feel as though you’d spoken a thousand truths.

“Berlin, huh?”

Your smile was shy, hesitant even. You were testing the waters, trying your luck to pry into a part of Simon's life that still felt really distant and elusive. There was so much about Simon you didn’t know—so many parts of him shrouded in shadows you couldn’t reach.

You knew that he was a high-ranking military officer, that his life was filled with danger and violence, but beyond that, his world was a locked door you didn’t have the key to.

“Yeah,” he breathed, his tone nonchalant, a familiar wall sliding back into place.

“And what did you do in Germany, sir?”

You tried to ease him into conversation, something you knew was like drawing blood from a stone. You slipped a teasing lilt into your words, but the moment “sir” left your lips, you saw the shift in him.

His broad shoulders tensed visibly, his entire body going rigid, and the air in the car thickened with discomfort.

“Don’t call me that,” Simon muttered sharply.

The change in his demeanour took you aback, your frown forming before you could stop it. His reaction had been almost immediate, something instinctive, a reflex more than anything else, but it cut through the humour you were trying to build. You had thought he’d shrug off the title with a bit of banter, as he always did when you tried to joke with him, but clearly, this time you’d touched a nerve.

“Oh. Why not?”

The question hung in the air between you both.

You watched as his fingers flexed against the steering wheel, his body shifting uncomfortably in the seat. For a moment, it seemed like he wasn’t going to answer at all. You waited, the rain still tapping steadily against the glass, each second stretching into an eternity. His silence made you regret asking, but you couldn’t take it back now. So you waited, giving him space to either explain or ignore the question altogether.

Finally, after what felt like endless hours but was likely just a few heartbeats, Simon exhaled, his breath heavy and laden with a weight you couldn’t see but could almost feel. His voice, when he spoke, was low and gruff, laced with a bitterness that made your chest tighten.

“It ain’t who I am with you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his statement.

His words were as heavy as the rain pattering against the rooftop.

It was an admission, simple and raw, and it sliced through you. You weren’t sure how to respond, how to grasp what he was offering with that small sentence. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of that realisation settle deep in your chest. For Simon, the titles, the rank, the soldier he was in the field—those weren’t meant for you.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I wasn’t tryin’ to—I was just teasin’,” you mumbled, your words faltering as you searched for the right thing to say. “But it was a shitty joke. I’m sorry.”

“S’alright,” he grunted.

“I just wanted to, dunno, tease you into talkin’ more, I guess,” you added, eyes darting briefly to him. “Find out more about you. About what you do when you’re not with me.”

Simon’s grip on the steering wheel tightened just slightly, the tendons in his hand pulling taut like the silence between you.

Your heartbeat thrummed steadily in your ears, matching the rhythm of the rain, but you waited. He didn’t answer immediately, however, the fact that he didn’t brush you off instantly, didn’t give you his usual noncommittal grunt, was answer enough.

He was thinking, considering. You could almost see the cogs turning behind those familiar hazel eyes, weighing whether or not he wanted to open that specific door.

Finally, after what felt like an age, Simon spoke. “S’not that I don’t want you to know,” he said quietly, voice rough as gravel. “Some of it, you wouldn’t want to, trust me.”

You nodded, his words sinking deep into your chest.

“Well, yeah but... if it’s important to you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain, “then it’s important to me. You don’t have to tell me everythin’, y’know, but I’d like to know more about you. What you do, where you’ve been—if you’re okay with that, of course.”

His jaw clenched under the mask, ever so slightly, and you could see the battle waging inside him. It was as if the weight of what he did, what he was, hung like a boulder around his neck, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to share even a piece of it with you.

You waited, breath held, afraid that if you pressed him too hard, he’d close himself off again.

“I’m in the SAS,” the admission rolled out like a stone dropping into still water. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, observing your reaction before he continued. “Been with ‘em for a while now. Means I’m involved in the kinds of things most bastards never even hear about. We’re the ones who get sent in when the situation’s gone south, when the regular lot can’t handle it. Clandestine tradecraft. Sabotage. Ambushes. Infiltration.”

For a second, you let his words settle, absorbing this sliver of his reality. You hadn’t expected him to open up, even to this degree, but you could see the cost of that openness, the weight of it etched in the hard lines of his face.

“Uhm, I don’t really know much about that kind of stuff,” you admitted, your voice quiet but honest. “Sabotage, infiltration... sounds like somethin’ out of a bloody movie.”

He gave a low grunt, almost a laugh but not quite. “Clandestine tradecraft’s just a fancy way of sayin’ we go undercover. Sabotage means we disrupt the enemy. Ambushes, we lie in wait. Infiltration’s when we sneak in, undetected. We go into hostile environments, behind enemy lines, and we do what needs doin’.”

You absorbed his words, a silent acknowledgment of the reality that formed the backbone of Simon’s existence.

You nodded slowly, taking in each word.

You found your gaze lingering on his hands, strong and steady as they gripped the wheel, fingers worn and calloused from years of conflicts that were far removed from the world you inhabited. You wanted to reach over, to touch him, but you held back.

“And you’re… good at it,” you said, not a question, but a statement. It wasn’t hard to believe that Simon excelled in a world of calculated danger and precision.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I’m good at it.”

There was no arrogance in his tone, no pride.

It was just a fact, as undeniable as the rain that continued to beat against the windows. Simon wasn’t bragging about his skills, nor was he seeking validation. No, not even from you. He was simply stating the truth, a truth that had probably saved his life countless times. And the way he said it made it sound like it was something mundane, like he’d just clocked in and out of an ordinary office job, but you knew better. Work, for Simon, wasn’t something you could ever fully understand. It was the kind of job that left scars—

—on the body, sure, but more importantly, on the soul.

You wondered, as the weight of his words hung heavy in the car, how much of Simon’s soul had been lost in the shadows he so skillfully navigated. His hands bore no visible scars tonight, yet you knew they held memories of things you would never see, things he would likely never tell you. He had painted himself in muted greys and blacks, fading into the backdrop of a life that was dangerous, clandestine, and impossible to reconcile with the gentle, steady warmth you’d felt whenever he was with you. You realised he was both, this man of quiet domesticity and of ruthless precision—

—and the contradiction left your heart aching.

“So, when you’re here… with me… you don’t want to be that person?”

Simon’s hazel eyes flickered towards you, briefly, before he looked away. It was the faintest movement, but you caught it, that quick glance loaded with something unreadable. He released a low sigh, his shoulders sagging almost imperceptibly.

“No,” he said at last, the word as soft as the rain outside. “Not here. Not with you.”

And then, as if he had reached into the depths of your mind, Simon’s hand found its way to your thigh, his palm resting there. The warmth of his hand cut through the chill of November, spreading like wildfire across your skin. Your breath immediately hitched, a reflexive flinch, and you looked at him, wide-eyed. He didn’t return your gaze, not this time. His beautiful eyes were focused on the road, his expression a mask of calm, as though this touch was as natural as breathing to him, as though he hadn’t felt the tremor it sent through you.

But for you, it was something else entirely.

It wasn’t a touch you’d grown used to, despite the countless times you’d dreamed of it, wondered what it would feel like to have that quiet strength grounded against you. Your heart raced, an urgent beat that felt almost painfully loud in the silence. You wondered if he felt it, the way your pulse quickened beneath the weight of his hand, the heat pooling where his fingers pressed ever so lightly against you.

You let your gaze linger on his hand, his fingers resting so close to the inside of your thigh that it felt as though he was holding your truest and barest soul right in his palm.

For a moment, you hesitated, feeling your own hand tremble slightly as you lifted it, reaching to touch him back. You laid your hand gently atop his, your fingers just barely grazing his knuckles, feeling the strength hidden beneath his stillness.

You felt your resistance dissolve like frost in the morning sun.

The car moved through the city streets, the streetlights casting harsh shadows across his face, softening the lines, making him feel almost otherworldly, yet solid—solid in a way you couldn’t ignore, in a way that made you feel safe. His hand never faltered, never pulled away, and you kept your hold on him, afraid that if you let go, you might never find the courage again. All the worries, the endless questions, they faded into nothing, replaced by a calm you hadn’t felt in ages.

You melted into him, allowing your hand to rest over his, tracing gentle circles over the rough skin of his knuckles. His hand remained still, firm yet yielding under your touch, as though he were afraid to disrupt the fragile peace between you.

For the rest of the drive, neither of you spoke.

It’s painfully funny how I only planned to write a one-shot for this story, yet here I am, unable to stop writing about these two...

228 notes · View notes

touyasdoll · 1 year ago

Text

Scream 2

this is a follow up to a fic I wrote last year for kinktober, but it’s not necessary to read that one before this one. it can stand alone <3

pairing: ghostface!Dabi x f!reader x ghostface!Hawks

warnings: DARK CONTENT, please be advised. CNC, dubcon, fear play, knife play, home invasion, threesome, double penetration in one hole, eiffel tower for lack of a better term, oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), backshots, also Touya is 6'4 idc what the canon says, au where Hawks actually double crosses the HPSC bc a girl can dream, rough sex, not exactly hair pulling but hair grabbing, face sitting, thigh riding, size kink, dirty talk, biting, marking, overstimulation, mild degradation, praise, impact play (barely), nipple play, breeding, let me know if I missed any please <3

word count: 5.3k

notes: Happy Halloween! 👻🔪🖤

“You’re absolutely sure about this?” Keigo asks as he narrows his golden irises at the white haired man before him on the rooftop.

The sky is dark, especially in this part of the city. The few lights from the rundown buildings and buzzing street lamps provide the only meaningful illumination, as the moon is hidden behind a thick blanket of dark, heavy clouds that promise a storm is coming.

“I’m sure. Don’t sweat it, feathers. Just stick to the plan and everything’ll be fine. Scout’s honor,” Touya replies, flashing a sardonic smile.

“Your honor isn’t exactly worth much,” the hero scoffs. “But I guess I’ll have to take you at your word.”

Keigo’s dressed in his civilian clothes; an all black ensemble consisting of jeans, boots, and a well-fitting hoodie. He’d clearly heeded Touya’s instruction to dress for stealth, while the villain is still dressed in his stitched ensemble.

“That’s a good little bird,” Touya says as he heads for the stairs. “Good luck. You might need it, hero.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, heaving an anxious sigh before he takes off into the cool night air.

You’re just getting ready to turn in for the night. It had been a successful Halloween. You and Touya were able to watch a few spooky movies and take turns passing out candy before he had to leave for whatever PLF business he’s up to tonight.

He actually seemed to enjoy himself whenever it was his turn to answer the door. Maybe it was because he got a kick out of seeing the kids’ reactions to his Ghostface mask, but you have a feeling it was more about seeing your reaction to the mask.

He hasn’t pulled it out since last Halloween, much to your disappointment. He just looks so good in it. You could even do without the theatrics. Just being able to ride him or get railed while he has that damn mask on would be enough.

You were hoping that he’d give you an encore tonight. He did use the code the two of you had established. You vividly remember him slowly lifting off the mask after closing the door on another round of trick-or-treaters and sauntering over to the couch with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Hey, doll. What’s your favorite scary movie?” He’d asked, the question so full of promise, just as it had been last year.

But it was well past midnight now. He’d said that he might be back late tonight, which is usually how it goes when he’s working. Maybe you two could have your fun on another night, you suppose as you retreat to your bedroom.

You change into one of Touya’s t-shirts before you slip beneath the covers and just before you rest your head, your phone rings. Seeing that it’s your boyfriend, you pick it right up.

“Hey, baby,” you greet him, sitting up against the headboard.

Unfortunately, you don’t hear a word that he says. What you do hear is much more terrifying. A loud, sudden thud reverberates throughout the house and you swear it must be coming from your kitchen, but you were just in there hardly a minute ago. Surely, you’d notice someone creeping around your house, right?

Then again, you hadn’t noticed last year. Maybe he was keeping up the tradition after all. Trying to pull the wool over your eyes again to give you a scare. Well, not this year. You know better.

“Sorry, baby. You were breaking up,” you say calmly as you slip out of bed and creep into the hall. “What did you say?”

You’d play along with his little game, but you know that you have no reason to be truly afraid. He’s probably hiding behind a corner somewhere, watching you as you pad about the house in nothing but his t-shirt and your underwear. The thought actually turns you on quite a bit.

“I said I’m about to head home. Sorry things took so long, but I should be back soon. M’not far,” Touya says as he jingles his keys in his hand.

“Okay. I was just about to turn in to bed, but I’ll wait up for you,” you say as you head into the kitchen to turn the light on.

There’s a large duffel bag in the center of the floor and you can’t help but wonder what might be inside. Seems like he’s really trying to up the ante this time. Your insides start twisting with a heady mixture of both excitement and desire, but then you see a figure who seems too short to be your boyfriend step into the other entrance to the kitchen and your heart stops.

“You don’t gotta wait up if you’re tired, doll,” Touya says on the other end of the phone, confirming that it’s definitely not him staring you down in that familiar Ghostface costume.

“Babe,” you whisper, your voice trembling in fear as you take a step back and the masked intruder takes one with you. “S-someone’s in the house.”

“What?” Touya asks and you can hear the fear in his voice as well, which sends your blood pressure through the roof. “Doll, just stay hidden. I will be there as soon as I can. I’m on my way, okay? Where are you?”

“O-okay,” you respond meekly, your voice cracking as you continue to walk backwards.

The intruder keeps at your pace, tilting his head to one side as he studies you. Your eyes are drawn to something glinting in the light as he reveals a blade from behind his robe.

“Doll, where are you? Do they know you’re there?” Touya asks frantically as he fires up the car and takes off.

You only faintly hear his voice and the tires skidding in the background of the call as you freeze up. Everything slows down for just a moment and then the adrenaline kicks in.

You bolt for the front door, only to find that it’s locked from the outside somehow. You try again in vain to jiggle the handle, praying that maybe it’s just stuck, but it’s definitely fucking locked and that causes you to panic all over again.

“Doll? Doll, answer me,” Touya yells loud enough for you to hear it even though you’ve since dropped your phone to your side.

You don’t hear the stranger coming up behind you, but when you look over your shoulder, he’s right there. Close enough to kill you if he wanted.

You scream in fright and drop the phone in your haste to bolt for the back door, but he jumps in your way. He’s on the smaller side, but he seems especially nimble. You aren’t sure you stand much of a chance getting away from him, but you have to try.

You just have to last until Touya gets home. That’s what you keep telling yourself. A mantra that you repeat over and over in your mind as you scramble down the hall and into the first open door.

The slam of the door knocks some sense back into you. You keep your hands pressed against it and take a look around the guest bedroom, eyeing the dresser nearby. It’s mostly empty and it’s not very big, but it’s better than nothing.

A loud bang that sounds like a heavy fist thudding against the wood startles you and you let out a scream before you lurch towards the dresser to start sliding it across the floor.

“Doll? Doll, where are you?” You hear Touya’s voice call out from down the hall.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Do you come out? Touya’s more than capable, but you don’t know what this intruder is capable of. What’s his quirk? What if it’s deadly?

Your heart thumps wildly in your chest as you listen for sounds of a struggle, but your fear of something happening to your boyfriend wins out over your fear of something happening to you.

“Babe?” You call as you burst out of the door, frantically scanning the dimly lit house as you creep down the hall once more.

The kitchen lights have been turned off and it’s quiet. It’s silent. Eerily so. Just when you feel like you might have made a mistake, the stranger turns the corner from the kitchen and holds a voice changer up to his mouth.

“Yes, doll?” He says, tilting his head in a mocking fashion as he slowly stalks closer to you.

Your eyes go wide as you realize that you’d definitely fucked up and you attempt to retreat back to the relative safety of the guest room, but you hear footsteps right behind you. He’s moving too fast. He covers twice the distance that you’re able to and throws himself across the doorway before lifting the device to his concealed mouth again.

“Fooled ya,” he says in the familiar, raspy distorted voice of Ghostface.

Tears well in your eyes as you turn tail and run straight for the backdoor. You aren’t thinking, just moving. Hurtling towards freedom, which you are hoping against hope you are able to find, but all hope is lost when you suddenly collide with another figure in the kitchen.

You slam into their firm chest and tilt your head back to look up at the imposing new intruder, who is also dressed as the masked fictional killer.

“Fuck,” you mutter, gaping up at the taller of the two in horror as you turn on your heel, only to find the other one right behind you.

Both of them begin closing in, sauntering towards you silently. All that you can hear is the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears as you back yourself up to the island. The shorter stranger looks between you and his companion in crime, who nods in response as your heart sinks into your stomach.

“Please. Please don’t hurt me,” you whimper, shrinking against the cool marble countertop.

The shorter of the two lifts the voice changer to his lips and uses his other hand to brandish the knife once more, using the blade to lift the hem of your shirt and press the flat of the cold steel blade to your stomach.

“We’re not gonna hurt you, gorgeous. We just wanna play,” he says as he leans in closer.

“I thought you liked playin’ like this, doll?” The taller one asks as he tilts his head to one side.

You whip your head towards him, because you could swear that’s your boyfriend’s voice, but you’ve already been tricked once tonight. He flashes his palms, revealing no voice changer in his hand. No knife either. He snaps his fingers together and a brilliant blue flame burns away the glove concealing his hand to reveal familiar scars and staples.

“T-Touya?” You ask shakily, blinking in surprise. “Then who the fuck is..?”

Your heart rate finally starts to slow as you trail off and shake your head, looking at the other Ghostface in confusion. You reach out to rip the mask off and are stunned to find Keigo’s wilder than usual blonde hair and disarming golden gaze beneath the disguise.

“Happy Halloween, doll,” Touya purrs as you stare at Keigo’s handsome smirk.

“I-I don’t understand,” you say quietly, not wanting to assume that what you sincerely hope might happen is actually about to happen.

“Sure ya do,” Touya continues, his large hands finding your hips to draw you closer and bring your back flush against his chest, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as Keigo sets the knife down on the counter without taking his hungry eyes off of you. “You remember us having this conversation, don’t you?”

Your brow furrows and you look away from the hero as you try to remember just what in the fuck Touya is on about when you recall him prompting you with an unusual question a few months ago.

You were sitting on the couch, curled up watching a movie. Sleep was beginning to tug at you, trying to beckon you to bed, but you were stubborn and insisted on staying up to see the end of the film, even though Touya was making it that much more difficult by rubbing his unnaturally warm hands along your back.

“Say, if we were ever to have a threesome with one of our friends, who would you want it to be with?” He’d asked you seemingly out of the blue, but unknown to you, he’d been ruminating on how to top his Halloween escapade for some time already.

“Hmm?” You ask as you tilt your head back to look at him and shrug. “I don’t know. You don’t exactly have a whole lot of friends. No offense.”

“None taken. I’d consider that a compliment,” he says, shrugging. “But seriously. Well, hypothetically, I guess. If ya had to pick one, who would it be? There’s plenty of hot people in the PLF.”

You hum curiously, taking a moment to think it over as you tuck your face back into his chest and nuzzle into him.

“Keigo. He’s hot and I’d trust him,” you reply bluntly, a yawn escaping you a moment later.

“Good choice. You’re right on both counts,” he murmurs, a plan already coming together in his mind. “That could be fun.”

“I didn’t think.. I mean–I–,” you balk, looking between them in disbelief.

“I wasn’t bein’ hypothetical, gorgeous,” Touya says as he spins you around to catch your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently tilting your head back so that his blue eyes can bore into you while Keigo switches on the kitchen light. “So whaddya say?”

“We’re gonna need a clear answer before the real fun can begin,” Keigo says sensually as he steps close enough that you can feel his body heat behind you.

“Yes,” you eek out, nodding your head as you try to wrap your brain around this unexpected turn of events.

The bastard had gotten one over on you again after all, but it’s not like you can even stay mad about it, considering what’s in store for you.

“I hope you’re hydrated, doll,” Touya chuckles, fisting a hand into your hair to carefully tug your hair back and kiss you like his life depends on it.

He sighs through his nose, groaning against your lips as his hand drops to your ass. He gives it a firm squeeze as he shifts his hips against yours, letting you feel how hard he is already.

Keigo steps closer to press his toned chest against your back and tilts his head to start kissing along your neck as he grabs your waist and grinds against you from behind, revealing that he’s also sporting a raging hard on.

You moan, working your tongue and your mouth against Touya as your hands explore his chest, searching for an opening in the black robe he’s wearing.

“You wanna just cut to the chase already, doll?” The villain smirks, lighting his palm for just a second to reduce your scant clothing to ash. “I think we’ve been through enough foreplay and I’ve been waiting too damn long for this.”

He does the same to his clothing, pressing a hand to his chest and the other to Keigo’s. You feel another brief flash of tolerable heat before you’re hyper aware of the feeling of both of their bare bodies writhing against your own.

“Oh fuck,” you sigh, tilting your head to one side as Keigo begins nipping at your sensitive pulse point, laving his tongue over it to soothe the subtle ache.

You reach a hand back to work it into his hair and tug gently as you arch your back, grinding your ass against his stiff cock, which coaxes a gorgeous moan from him. You slip a hand between you and Touya as he captures your mouth again. Your fingers wrap around his length to guide the bead of precum along his shaft, drawing out a beautiful noise from him as well.

Both of them suddenly pull away and you’re afraid that you’ve done something wrong until Keigo steps in front of you to grab your hips and effortlessly lift you up onto the kitchen island.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a long, long time,” he says, smirking as he leans in to kiss you and parts your legs.

Touya stands back, stroking himself as he watches Keigo crouch down between your thighs. The blonde keeps his eyes on yours as he trails kisses and love bites along your inner thighs, slowly and steadily working his way up to your glistening pussy.

“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs as he sets his sights between your legs as dives in, his tongue parting your folds before it spears inde of you.

He certainly knows what he’s doing and it immediately drives you crazy. You keep yourself supported and sitting upright with one hand, so that you can watch him feast on your pussy while you keep a hand in his hair. He alternates between bathing you with his tongue and sucking on your clit with just the right amount of pressure, drawing moans and whimpers from you with ease.

You look up to seek validation from Touya, almost feeling guilty for enjoying yourself so much, but he seems to be just as into it as you are. He nods, grinning wickedly as he comes closer.

“You enjoyin’ yourself, doll?” He asks as he stops stroking himself to instead reach beneath Hawks’ chin and slip two fingers inside of you.

“Y-yes!” You gasp, your eyes crossing as your head tips back. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.”

“I know, gorgeous,” he purrs and you can hear the smug smirk on his face. “Go ahead and cum all over my friend’s face. He’s dying to taste it.”

His words send you over the edge and you cry out, sending your release gushing into Keigo’s mouth as your hips gyrate on top of the counter. The hero wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you still as he continues ravaging you with his tongue. He noisily cleans up your arousal, sending you into overdrive as you whine and beg for him to show you mercy when it just gets to be too much.

He eventually lets you catch your breath, but when he stands up to wipe his chin, the look on Touya’s face tells you that you in for much worse if you thought that was too much.

“S’my turn to taste that sweet pussy, gorgeous. C’mere,” he says, nodding towards the hall as he scoops you up off the counter. At least he doesnt expect you to walk after that.

He carries you into the bedroom and switches the light on before he lays you down on the bed and lumbers over you.

“First things first, clean up the mess you made,” Touya practically coos as he offers his slick fingers to you.

You hold his gaze as you slowly take the digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them and moaning quietly when you taste yourself on his skin.

“Good girl,” Hawks praises you as he crawls onto the bed and Touya repositions, laying flat on his back.

“You know my favorite number, doll,” he says as he delivers a swift smack to your behind, just enough to make you jump a little. “Assume the position.”

You look between him and Keigo curiously and do as you're told, straddling Touya’s face to wrap your hand around his cock and begin stroking, but before you can take a seat, he tuts his tongue.

“I want your mouth on him, baby,” Touya says before he hooks his arms around you and forces you to sit.

His mouth starts working wonders between your legs and you think you might just cum in record time after what Hawks had done to you, but then you remember that your mouth is needed elsewhere than just filling up the sticky air with filthy noises.

You shift forward as Keigo comes closer, his swollen cock bobbing in front of your face. You lift your eyes to his and take great pleasure in watching the watch his head dips back and his Adam’s apple bobs when you take him into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep still as he lets you slowly bob along his length until you’re comfortably taking him in and out of his mouth while working your hand along his shaft.

You keep your other hand wrapped around Touya’s cock, focusing on trying to please both of them while feeling like your brain is going to break thanks to what Touya’s doing beneath you. The moans that you drive from him send vibrations straight into your pussy that only drive you closer to the edge.

You hold on for as long as you can, but it soon becomes to much again and you pull your mouth and hands away from both of them to sit up and support yourself with your hands on Touya’s thighs, gripping them tight.

“C-can’t,” you practically sob, squeezing your eyes tight as you hang your head. “Holy shit.”

“Yes, you can,” Keigo coos as he reaches out to cup your breasts, massaging them with care before he starts tweaking your nipples, which sends you cascading into oblivion for the second time tonight.

You nearly collapse, slumping forward as you’re overcome with pleasure, but Keigo catches you, loosely holding you in his arms as he rubs his hand along your back, which only heightens the sensations you’re feeling.

You whimper in his ear and he presses a kiss to the side of your head as he and Touya gently ease you off of the latter, so that Touya can sit up.

“You’re doin’ so well, beautiful,” Hawks croons, peppering kisses along your jaw until he finds your lips.

“Mm,” is the only response you can muster at the moment as you slowly come down from your high.

“So well,” Touya praises, moving behind you to rest his hands on your hips as he kisses along your shoulder. “Such a good girl. Can you keep bein’ a good girl for us, gorgeous? If we give you what you really want? Hmm?”

“Yes,” you say breathlessly, nodding your head as your eyes fall closed. “I’ll keep bein’ good. I’ll be so good.”

“That’s our girl,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck before he places a chaste kiss to it.

Keigo moves aside and then Touya presses a hand to your back, keeping the other firmly planted on your hip as he forces you onto all fours. He groans as he grinds himself against you, his cock gliding through your folds, nearly penetrating where you need him the most.

“Please,” you whine softly, shaking your ass as you drop your hips back against him.

“Since you asked so nice,” he purrs, smirking as he slips inside of you, letting you feel him enter you inch by glorious inch, his piercings sliding against your walls and making your eyes roll back.

Keigo starts stroking himself as he watches Touya set a steady rhythm, fucking you just hard enough to make you gasp now and then as you fist your hands into the sheets and meet him thrust for thrust. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, mixing with the euphoric noises pouting from each and every one of you.

“Just gotta stretch you out a bit, gorgeous,” Touya pants, draping himself over you as he slows his pace. He reaches a hand around ti gently guide your face towards Keigo, who’s abs are drawn taut as he continues stroking himself, his eyes now fixed on your face. “You think you can take both of us? He’s not exactly small either, but I believe in you, doll.”

Your eyes widen, but you find yourself nodding. You aren’t sure if you can do it, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.

“I want to,” you breathe out, nodding as you reach out towards Keigo to take over stroking his cock, tugging very gently to guide him closer as you smirk up at him. “We should get you nice and lubed up though, yeah?”

His eyebrows raise and he looks extremely pleased as he nods and cradles your head in the back of your hand as Touya straightens up.

“So fucking good,” Touya marvels through grit teeth as he picks up the pace again.

He lets you adjust to having Keigo in your mouth, but he starts pushing your further, driving into your hard enough to make you deep throat the hero, which makes both of them groan sinfully as they watch you swallow their cocks at either end.

“Fuck,” Keigo sighs as he suddenly backs away. “Anymore of that and I’m gonna be done way too soon.”

“Let’s see if you’re ready then, doll,” Touya says, smirking as he pulls out and kneads the fat of your ass before giving it a light smack. “Lay down, Kei. You should her pussy for yourself first.”

Hawks lays on his back and Touya cups your cheek to guide your face towards his one, giving you a passionate kiss before he lets you go and nods towards the blonde.

“Give him the ride of his life,” he says as he wraps his hand around his own cock.

You climb on top of Keigo, leaning in to give him a kiss and slip your tongue into his mouth, teasingly tracing it around the entrance of his mouth as you wrap your hand around his length. You suddenly sink down and he lets out a choked groan as he seizes your hips.

You rest your hands on his chest, smirking with satisfaction as you start riding him, moving your hips slowly at first as your walls clench around him, hugging his cock tight.

“You feel so good, Kei,” you say breathily.

His eyes widen and for a moment, he feels like he might just cum and pass out right there. He lets you set the pace, watching you intently as you bounce up and down on his length. His hands glide over your body, exploring every inch of you that he can reach before they settle on your breasts. He massages them as gently as he had earlier before tweaking your nipples.

He seems to get a better idea as he sits up and wraps his arms around you, grabbing your ass to start guiding your hips more forcefully while he takes your nipple into his mouth to suck. He expertly moves his tongue across the sensitive bud, flicking and swirling it around as he applies more pressure to your hips and encourages you to quicken your pace.

“Just like that, doll,” Touya pants, struggling to stave of his own end as he senses yours coming.

“Keigo,” you whimper, grasping onto his shoulders as you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back, your hips bucking as you come undone again.

“Oh fuck,” he groans loudly, panting for breath as he continues fucking you through your end while fighting off his own.

Touya pulls his hand away from his cock to take a few deep breaths, watching you contort with pleasure until you’re through the worst of it. He moves behind you and kisses along your shoulder again, sending delicious shivers down your spine.

“You sure you wanna do this, doll?” He asks quietly, his tone sincere.

“Yes. Yes, please,” you whisper, nodding weakly nodding your head.

“You don’t have to do any of the work this time, baby,” Keigo says as he runs his hands along yours arms and lays flat on his back. “Just let us make you feel good.”

You nod again and Touya rests a hand on your back to gently guide your forward so that you’re laying on top of Keigo before he situates himself behind you.

“I’ll go slow,” he assures you as he first works one finger inside of you. Then another.

You and Keigo both moan quietly, your shallow breaths mingling with one another’s as he drags his fingertips along your back. Touya starts slowly thrusting his fingers and Keigo slowly shifts his hips, working you open further as you rest your head on the blonde’s chest and submit to it. Once he’s confident that you’re able to take both of them, Touya slowly guides the head of his cock inside of you.

“Shit,” he groans, continuing to gently bully himself inside. “It’s so fucking tight. So fucking good. You feel that, Kei?”

“Fuck yeah I do,” Hawks sighs, holding perfectly still as his face twists with pleasure. “It’s so fucking good.”

You press your nails into Keigo’s biceps as you feel the two of them stretching you open and filling you up in a way that you never thought possible. They’re right. It is so. Fucking. Good.

“Fuck me,” you beg quietly once Touya’s seated inside of you. “Please fuck me. Wanna feel both of you.”

“You’re gonna, baby,” Touya croons as he slowly draws his hips back and pushes inside of you again.

The sensation is glorious. It’s mind numbing. It’s like the best drug you’ve ever felt and you know that you need more of it.

He holds onto your hips and Keigo seizes your waist as they both begin to move in tandem, slowly at first, but working their way to a pace that has you at a loss for words. You couldn’t find any if you tried. None of you can apparently.

The only noises to be heard are your bodies all grinding against each other. The lewd squelching of fluids between your forms as you trade sinful noises and panting breaths back and forth. Eventually, you do find one phrase, but just one.

“Cum inside me, please. Please,” you whine, your voice pitching higher as you feel another orgasm building, this one threatening to tear you apart in the best way. “Cum i-inside.”

“We’re gonna breed you so fuckin’ good, doll,” Touya promises without missing a beat. “I promise.”

They seem to have mastered their movements. Together, the two of them drive you steadily towards your end whilst chasing their own. You snap first, of course, howling with pleasure as your writhe on top of them, your walls contracting impossibly tight around both of their cocks.

Keigo cradles your head and kisses the top of it, whispering praises and Touya hunches forward to do the same, speaking them right into your ear as both of them keep driving themselves inside of you with unparalleled need.

Keigo finishes next, his eyes snapping shut as he lets out a long, loud moan, his rhythm stuttering just as Touya finds his end. His head snaps up as he leans back and grips your hips with bruising force, delivering a few more good thrusts while letting out a primal groan before his thrusts become sloppy and begin to taper off as he lays himself across your back again.

The three of you are left a sweaty, blissful mess on the bed. You’re so wonderfully full. So much so that you’re leaking all over both of them, but neither of them seem to care and neither do you. It’s as if the world has stopped for a minute and you’re all floating outside of time and space, suspended in this moment.

“So good for us,” Touya finally murmurs after who knows how long. He gently grabs your chin to guide your face towards his once more, a lazy smile on his lips as he captures yours in a decidedly sweet kiss. “Happy Halloween, doll.”

thank you for reading! I hope you have/had a safe & happy halloween!

#dabi x reader #hawks x reader #dabi smut #hawks smut #touya todoroki x reader #keigo takami x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha smut #touya x reader #keigo x reader #touya smut #keigo smut #mha smut

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lou-struck · 9 months ago

Text

Made with Love Part 1

Obey Me Brothers and Datables x reader

Part 2 HERE

MASTERLIST !

~After Luke uses a bowl from Solomon's Lab to make some Cookies for the Valentines Day party. Everyone starts acting a bit... Love Drunk.

a/n: I hope you guys like this little Valentine's Day series! If you want to be tagged in part 2 Comment Below!

Introduction:

As the Angel reaches up on his tiptoes to reach an upper kitchen cabinet, Luke's little white beret slips from his white blonde head. The sweet smell of angelic sugar cookies wafts through the air around him from the dozens of batches he has made today. From what he has 'sampled' earlier, he can tell that if he were to wrap them up right now, even Barbatos would have seconds. But he wants to frost and decorate the little heart-shaped cookies with a whipped-cloud icing you like before bringing them to Diavolo's castle for his Valentine's Day celebration.

The party may be small, but it was planned especially with you in mind.

Although he was up in the Celestial Realm running an errand for Michael, Luke heard all about the little prank that Solomon played on Simeon and the others about some evil, human-world monster called Cupid that was trying to steal you away.

You were never in any real danger, but he and everyone else agreed that the prank made the day less enjoyable for you. Which is the last thing anyone wanted.

Meetings were held, contracts were signed, and it was agreed that for this Valentine's Day, there would be no funny business.

Today has to be perfect for you, so his cookies need to be frosted.

Fueled by his good-natured desire to make you something sweet, Luke is able to reach just a bit higher, his fingertips grabbing the ceramic mixing bowl by its patterned edge.

This victory is short-lived, however, as it slips past his butter-coated fingers and thuds to the ground, the heavy bowl splitting in two.

The broken bowl in front of him causes the Angel to feel a bit distressed. Why couldn't he be bigger?

To clean up the fallen pieces.

But as his kitchen timer takes down slowly he realizes that he's running out of time. He has to get the frosting made soon.

"Where are all the other mixing bowls?" he wonders aloud as he looks through the other cabinets and dishwasher, finding none.

He knows that there are more than just the ones he has been using for the batter. But where are they?

He puffs out his little cherub cheeks with a pout as he tries to think where they could've gone.

And then, it hits him.

Solomon…

The Sorcerer has a habit of 'borrowing' things from the kitchen, bringing them into his Lab, hoarding them, and not bringing them back for weeks. The batch of cookies in the oven only has a few minutes left, so he wastes no time scampering up to the Lab to retrieve the stolen mixing bowls.

Thankfully, the dark wooden door to the Lab is unlocked, and he slips inside. Every step is anxious for the little Angel. You never know what is crawling about Solomon's Lab.

This time, the air is unusually sweet, like cotton candy and pomegranate seeds.

The mouthwatering smell has the angeling giggling to himself, although Solomon can't cook an edible meal to save his life, some of the spells and potions he cooks up can be classified as tasty.

From the corner of his eye, Luke sees a small stack of his mixing bowls on the countertop. But as he gets close, he sees that they are completely filthy, covered in remnants of some experiment.

Luke knows not to try to touch those ones; after all, the last time he tried to clean some of Solomon's dishes, he ended up cursed with webbed feet for a whole day.

As he shudders from the memory, he spots a light blue bowl on the edge of another table.

It's his favorite bowl; this one would be perfect for him to use to make the frosting.

The best part is it looks clean.

BUZZ...

The sharp ringing of the kitchen timer causes the little Angel to jump as he hastily grabs the bowl and runs downstairs so his cookies won't burn.

But in his rush to prevent what he thinks would be the day's biggest disaster, he fails to notice the small layer of shimmery glaze that has gathered at the bottom of the bowl.

There is Love in the dark, chilly air of the devildom as you make your way to the Demon Lord's castle. Your feet are not quite running, but they step with an embarrassed quickness,

The Valentine's Day outfit that Asmodeus picked out for you earlier had caused a few delays, so now you worry you are running late to the party.

How can one shirt have so many different types of buttons and zippers?

A part of you wonders if the Avatar of Lust had given you this particular outfit to distract you and prevent you from leaving for the party with the other brothers.

Your hands pat the back pockets of your jeans again as you feel the solid outline of your DDD through the fabric and sigh in relief. Barbatos wrote on the invitations that bringing the device was necessary for today's events since he had planned a few party games that required them.

It's then you notice a little figure dressed in white slowly making his way up the path just ahead of you.

Luke's steps are as small as he awkwardly carries a large container. You are about to ask him if he needs any help, but the look of determination on his face tells you not to try and take it from him, so instead, you raise a friendly hand and call after him.

When he sees you, he stands up a bit straighter.

"Mc, Happy Valentine's Day." he beams.

"Thank you, Luke." you look down at the box curiously. "Whatcha got there?"

The little Angel's cheeks turn a bit pink as he looks shyly away from you. "I made angelic sugar cookies for the party.

Your grin is elated at his words. "Those are so good. That was very thoughtful of you, Luke."

He perks up like a little dog at your compliment. "It was nothing, I made that frosting you like too, but I didn't have all the ingredients I needed, so only a few were frosted."

"I'm sure everyone will love them." you smile purposely, making your strides small so the little guy can keep up with you. "Did you remember to bring your DDD for the party games?"

His blue eyes widen in shock, and he looks at you with an expression of pure distress. "Oh no, I knew I was forgetting something."

"Since you have that big box of cookies, I can just run back to Purgatory Hall and grab it for you." you offer with a kind smile. "Where did you leave it."

He looks at you gratefully, and his shoulders relax as much as he can with that huge box of cookies in his hands. "You would really do that for me? Thank you, you're the best Mc; I think I left it on the kitchen counter."

Sounds good, I'll see you in a little bit." you smile. As you turn around, you remember one more thing. "Make sure to save a cookie for me."

"Don't worry," he calls back happily. "I will."

The enormous doors part for Luke in an almost haunting manner as he approaches the castle door. He fights the shudder as he steps inside, clutching his box of cookies with a death grip as his ears pick up the faint sound of conversation.

He follows it closer and closer to the banquet hall, where he was told the party would be held.

As the sounds grow louder, he can make out the excited rambling of Leviathan, the loud and merry laughter of Diavolo, and the animated squealing of Asmodeus.

Although they are demons, their happy chatter soothes his nerves as he pushes open the door with his shoulder.

The conversation in the room dies as the door creaks open. And when he steps out from behind the wood, he notes that everyone has been staring at him. When everyone sees it's just him, they quickly return to their usual conversations.

"I'm glad you could make it, Luke," Barbatos says with a polite smile, being the first one to recover from the momentary disappointment.

Simeon approaches the smaller Angel friendlily, placing a hand on top of Luke's head and ruffling his hair. "It seems everyone heard you approaching and assumed you were Mc."

"It could've been." he mumbles embarrassedly, "I had forgotten something back at home, and they offered to get it for me so I could bring over the cookies."

"Cookies?" Beel says, his head snapping towards Luke with gluttonous intent.

Luke's fondness for the Avatar of Gluttony's interest in his sweets causes him to smile and place the box on the table.

He removes the first layer of beautifully frosted cookies for all to see. "Yeah, I made these for the party. That's why I was running late today.

"Smells good," Beel mutters, taking a slow step toward the tray of cookies. Luke is so proud of the attention he garnered that he doesn't realize that everyone else is staring at the plate as well, enthralled by the sweet smell.

"Ohhh, they're soooo cute." Asmodeus gushes, holding up the heart-shaped cookie with his freshly manicured nails. The little red heart decals stand out on the glossy pink background.

Lucifer clears his throat. "May I try one?" he asks, "I do not have the biggest sweet tooth, but since it is a Holiday, I may as well."

"S-sure." the Angel replies, as everyone reaches for a cookie. There are only a few left on the plate, so he decides to wait to have one himself until you get here.

"Thank you, Luke, these look delicious," Barbatos says, removing his white glove before touching the gooey sweet.

Luke watches as everyone takes a bite of the cookies, his heart feeling full when he hears the sounds of approval as they chew.

"Wow," these are really good," Levi says, being the first to try to take another cookie.

"Wait," he says quickly, snatching the plate off the table. "These are Mc's favorite; let's wait until they get back to eat another one.

Lucifer giggles and stumbles back clumsily. "Yay, Mc's coming…" The dreamy lift in his tone makes Luke's eyes go wide in alarm.

Something is wrong.

Are they drunk???

"Mc…Cutie Pie." Satan hums; the usual sharp intelligence in his expression is gone and replaced with giddy lovesickness.

There is a haze to the Prince's eyes and a ruddiness to his cheeks as he nods thoughtfully. "I'll bring this plate up to my chambers. I want to feed them every bite myself.

"No way," Levi says way too confidently. "If anyone will be alone in a room with Mc. It will be me.

Barbaots stretches his arms out lethargically. "I'm… going to lay down in my room." he yawns. "Tell Mc to come to my room when they get here."

"You're tired, Barbatos?" Belphegor asks, the Avatar of Sloth looking wide awake."

"Yer not?" Mammon slurs, his pupils dilated. Luke turns and looks into the Avatar of Greed's eyes and sees that his pupils are now heart-shaped.

"How could I be?" the youngest of the seven answers. "Mc is coming soon, and I don't want to waste my time sleeping when I can be looking at them.

"Do you think Mc would give me a piggyback ride?" Beel hums absentmindedly.

"Course they would." Mammon gushes. "Mc is super strong and pretty and smart. And….~" his love-sick rambling is cut off by a dark chuckle from Simeon.

"No way," he coos. "You would crush them if you jumped on their back. You clearly don't know how to treat someone as special as Mc.

"And you do?" Levi laughs.

Simeon's smile is sinful. "Let's just say once I had my turn with them, Mc won't be thinking about any of you."

"That's so inappropriate." Asmodeus gasps with wide eyes. "I-i can't have you speaking about Mc like that." he covers his ears with his hands to block out the sound.

"Some Avatar of Lust you are," Simeon smirks, leaning in and using his writer's brain to get a bit descriptive with what he would like to do to you when you get to the party.

"What is wrong with you guys?" Luke stammers as he tries to block out Simeon's sinful words.

With everyone else thinking about nothing but you, Solomon shyly taps a rather distressed Luke on the shoulder. His cheeks are a soft shade of pink as he stares down at the floor, "I-i think I know what is happening…"

~Why was in those cookies??? Find out what happens next in part 2

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me #Diavolo x reader #Barbatos x reader #Simeon x reader #Solomon x reader #Lucifer x reader #x reader

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thefandomthings · 1 year ago

Text

𝐒mall 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐢𝐦

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: The Older Brothers (Separate) x Gn!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: A little, like smidge suggestive, smidge of possessiveness

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I apologize if the brothers are Ooc, and for any mistakes

Part 1 Part 2

Do not copy, or repost my work

Lucifer is a busy demon

You never fail to notice the irritation he has when he wakes up and has to make coffee, it takes time off of his schedule for the day.

So, you made a plan to wake up before he did and make him a fresh cup of coffee and go back to bed before he comes into the kitchen

Lucifer was delighted and much happier throughout the day when we wakes up to the strong smell of his coffee

But eventually his curiosity gets the best of him.

Who has been making his coffee for him, and who knows him well enough to make sure there is enough for 3 cups?

He has a strong idea who it is once he realizes you are harder to get up in the morning since the mystery coffee started.

Lucifer decides to catch you in the act, to answer his suspicions and thank you

The Devildom is still dark, clouds blocking out any sunlight from the human and celestial realm. It's around 6 in the morning, your bare feet are cold against the long hallways of the house of lamentation.

The house is getting colder as the seasons pass, your having to wear a sweater or a robe when you wake up in the early mornings. Maybe you should mention to Lucifer that he should think about turning on the heaters at night.

Your rub your eyes triedly when walking into the kitchen. Flipping on the light above the stove, you turned the coffee maker on, the small bulbs lighting up the darker area. You reached above the coffee pot and dug out a paper filter and the ground coffee.

Once you cleaned out the pot, you set it in the maker. You opened the package of filters and put on it along with the ground coffee beans. The smell is strong, almost enough to make your eyes water.

Lucifer likes his coffee black and some water to thin it out. It reminds you of your father, he likes his coffee the same way. You smile fondly of the thought of your dad.

Your body tenses when the coffee makers makes a rumbling sound as it begins the process of making the coffee.

You lean against the counter and watch the steam flow out any open space, the brown liquid pouring into the glass pot. You felt your soul leave you body when the kitchen lights flicked on.

Lucifer, in all his glory, stood at the entrance of the kitchen. Sleep still visible in his tired eyes, his hair slightly sticking up, his silk PJs wrinkled and sticking to his robe. You blush at the sight.

"MC" His voice is groggy and dry, but he had a small, kind smile on his face. "Hi Luci" You make sure to stay quiet, not wanting to wake anyone else up.

"So it has been you? Waking up at such early hours just to please me?" His voice is low and teasing but there is genuine happiness in his voice.

"Yes, I noticed you got irritated and it took a lot of time out of your day to make it" You explained, pressing your palms against the cold, marble countertop.

Lucifer hummed and walked over to you, his slipper gently hitting the hardwood floor. His ruby eyes never leaving you, his smile never fading.

When he got to you he brought you into a hug, his hand in your hair his other around your waist and shoulders. You smiled and wrapped your arms around him, hooking themselves under his arms and resting on his shoulder blades.

Your cheek pressed against his toned chest, your eyes closed as you and him begin to sway. His head rested on yours while he held you close. His chest vibrated as he started humming, it's faint and quiet; only you and him are able to hear it.

Lucifer never has or had someone to care for him in such a little way, but it effects him so deeply he can't help but fall more in love with you.

You have such a kind soul, he had sensed it ever since you arrived. He doesn't know what he did to deserve you, but he is eternally grateful.

I truly believe The Great Mammon, is forgetful af.

He is always leaving something he needs behind.

Like his sunglasses, his favorite necklace, his favorite pair of earrings, even his car keys, or his favorite powdered foundation for modeling sessions.

The list goes on and on.

You noticed his forgetful habit before you even started dating him.

You constantly reminded him, a few or more times before he left the house but he always manages to leave something behind.

While you and the boy's were out at the mall one day, you decided to get him something to keep all of his things in.

A purse was a little to girly and he'd probably be embarrassed to carry it around, tho yk he would try just for you.

A wallet was to small to hold his car keys and foundation.

Plus, he already has a gold wallet he kept with him everywhere he went, even in his sleep.

Then you found it, the perfect thing just for your Mammon.

You just so happen to find it in Bath & Body works. The small black bag was perfect. It was big enough to hold his car keys and anything on the bigger side, but also had smaller pockets for jewelry and extra grim.

You couldn't help but smile, your chest buzzing with joy. You grabbed the bag and stepped in line. The line was long, all the demons are impatient, big or small. Always grumbling under their breath.

You always felt uncomfortable around all of them, especially when you didn't have one of the brothers with you. They despise you for being human, they think it's fun to pick and make fun of you. For literally anything under the dark sky of the Devildom.

You've learned to ignore it, one of the brothers or you handsome boyfriend usually scares the shit out of them anyway, but when it's just yourself your are a little more vigilant.

"Hi, this all for Ya?" The cashier was faux friendly, of course. Her name badge crooked and her hair was unneat and definitely unkept.

"Yes" You handed her the bag and got out the credit card Lucifer and Mammon had made for you an only you.

She gave you the biggest side eyes you've ever received. The card is black and gold, the royal stamp in the middle of it. A sparkly Gold outlining the edges making a pattern towards the marking on the back. The mark of the greedy, you and Mammon's pact mark.

You knew he would know once you mad a purchase. His pact mark stinging as you got greedy when buying something, a courtesy of having the bond with the Avatar of greed. Always craving something more, always wanting and needing it. The items would shine and beckon you in, temptation tugging at you.

You swallowed the thought of buying the whole store and quickly left. You could feel the greed seeping into your soul.

"Oi! MC!" Mammon's voice quickly brought you out of your tempting thoughts. You watched him jog towards you, his limba ring glowing a beautiful gold.

"Hi Mams" You said breathlessly, your own eyes shining a bright yellow. Mammon's face flushed, his pact mark stinging into his skin. But it felt so good when it did, he need it to sting more, to watch you get greedy infront of him or, even better, for him.

"I got you something" You smile so softly, it brings him to his knees.

"O-Of course you got the Great Mammon something, who wouldn't?" He grinned and curiously watched you hand him the white and blue plastic bag.

Mammon's face was bright red, his hands reached into the shopping bag and took out his gift. His eyes shines with happiness, a bright smile engulfing his beautiful face.

"I got it to hold the things your forgetting all the time, you just put it in there so it's all together" You explained holding into his free hand and swinging it back in forth.

Mammon wanted to cry. You are so perfect. So kind, so sweet to him. His perfect human. All to himself.

He brought you into a bone crushing hug, the bag you got him he held tightly in his hands. You giggled and hugged him back, running your fingers along his spine and shoulders.

Mammon made sure to always keep the bag with him, a small picture of you and him tucked away in his wallet and that bag. He also spoiled the shit outta you at the mall that day.

Levi is probably the second most untidy out of his brothers, next to Mammon.

Games all over the floor near his tv, his dirty clothes basket overflowing with clothes, his blankets unwashed.

Its just a mess.

And I picture you as sort of a neat freak some days, you don't mind the mess it's just not and organized mess?

Levi is embarrassed about his room and he does try to make a mental note to keep it cleaner for when your around but he forgets. To engrossed by his games to remember.

You know he trys to remember to clean it but, Levi can't help himself when all of his gaming friends are playing in he's not

He is the Avatar of Envy after all.

So while he games and you are just hanging out in his room, you decide to pick up his cave.

But only behind him so he can't see, Levi doesn't really notice nor does he hear it, his headset on all the way.

He does notice after you are gone how his room feels cleaner, bigger. Maybe it was just your calming presences.

You do this quite often, and you even clean up his games on the floor when he's at a student council meeting.

DO NOT ENTER

The sign on your boyfriends door reads. You are surprised Levi gave you permission to go into his room without him there. It make you smile knowing that he trusts you enough.

It's almost and intimate thing. His room is his safe space, where he can be himself and not be bothered by his brothers. Where he can watch all of his shows without being teased. Where he can cosplay all of his favorite characters and daydream of what they'd be like in person.

You find all of this adorable, it's what makes Levi, Levi.

When you are inside his room, Your are hesitant in cleaning up his gaming space, that is almost sacred. So you decide to leave it be untill you ask his permission. But his room is starting to smell from Levi's dirty clothes that continues to pile up against the wall.

You begin by separating his nice clothes form his everyday clothes, those go to the dry cleaners on Tuesday. The rest go into your laundry basket and down to the laundry room.

You hope the meeting will be and extra bit longer today, so you could be in and out before Levi and the brothers get home. If Lucifer found out you were the one doing his laundry and picking up his room, he'd hang you and Levi off the roof like Mammon.

You have your headphones on, one ear isn't covered so you could hear the loud stomping of the boys when they get home. You start humming with the song that rings into you ears, your head bobbing with the beat.

You carry down a load of Levi's laundry. You get the washer ready and start it, his shirts getting wet as the washer fills with water. You bring the rest of his shirts and his socks and put them into the second washer, that sits underneath the first one. With 8 people living in one house you have to have more than one washer and dryer.

While his clothes are washing, you decide to clean around his bed and dust things off. Henry, you and Levi's adopted son, watches out of his fish tank. You lift things up and dust underneath them but set them right where they once were.

After dusting, you clean up all the trash around his tub and put it in his little Ruri trash can next to his night stand. You check all the wrappers to make sure they don't have anything Levi would like on them before throwing them away.

You fail to notice your headphones slipping onto your uncovered ear. But you continued on with making his Tub the most comfortable it could be. His Ruri pillow directly where he likes it.

Being so occupied in your own little world and the music blasting in you ears, you didn't hear the heard of elephants coming up the stairs and Levi opening his bedroom door.

Levi watched you with a dark blush on his face. How you finished making his tub the way he likes it, the way you folded his clothes and set them neatly in his dresser. And all with a small smile on your face.

"Uh, MC." Levi finally spoke, his hands in his jacket pocket. When you didn't answer he saw you had headphones on. He knows you weren't purposely ignoring him, but he felt envy creeping up on him.

He knew he had to thank you in some way, but his anxiety spikes at the thought, his envy washing away. He decided on the just hugging you from behind, but he didn't want to scare you.

Levi slowly tapped your shoulder, you could feel someone in the room with you but you choose to ignore it. You have a very good idea who it is now. You slip your headphones off and see Levi's pale hand on your shoulder.

"Hi Levi" Your voice was so quiet and calming, you weren't surprised at all. His face was tinted a cute pink, his ears red.

"MC, Can...Can you stay turned that way?" He requested. You nodded and faced away from him.

A few seconds later you felt his slim arms around your waist, his head laying against your neck and shoulders. His breathing was fast, and his heartbeat was quick. You smiled and layed your hands over his.

"Thank you"

You almost missed it, his voice so quiet, his chest rumbled against you as he spoke. You smiled and leaned back against him.

This was Levi's way of saying thank you and showing affection You couldn't be more proud of him. He is slowly getting over his shyness and Tsuendere attitude. But You wouldn't have it any other way.

#obey me belphie #obey me asmodeus #obey me x reader #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me #leviathan x reader #leviathan x mc #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #mammon fluff #lucifer fluff #leviathan fluff #obey me brothers #obey me fluff #obey me headcannons #thefandomthings

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jessica-larson · 1 year ago

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thebearer · 11 months ago

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the milestone menu: roasted red pepper and tomato soup for sad days

prompt: the death of mikey's anniversary is near. you make a comfort meal for carmen.

contains: mentions of death. angty with a side of fluff (at the end). anxious!carmen (i mean ofc).

INGREDIENTS

3 red bell peppers. 4 large tomatoes, peeled, seeded, chopped. An onion, chopped. 2 garlic cloves, minced

1 1/2 tsp thyme. 2 tsp paprika. A pinch of sugar. Salt & pepper. Cayenne

1/2 cup Chicken broth. 2 tbsp butter. 1 1/2 tbsp flour.

DIRECTIONS

Cover peppers in oil, broil until black, turn to get all sides. Put them in a paper bag to rest, the skin & seeds should come off easily. Chop. Heat oil on med heat in a large pot, cook garlic & onions until soft. Add tomatoes, peppers, thyme, paprika, and sugar. Cook on med-low, until most of the liquid has evaporated, about 20 minutes. Stir in 6 cups of chicken stock, salt & pepper. Bring to boil & simmer for 20 mins, until the vegetables are tender. Strain soup. Use a food processor or blender, and blend solids to your desired consistency. In your large pot, melt butter & add flour. Add soup/purée and stir, simmer for a few minutes.

“Hey, baby,” Carmen’s voice came to you before he did. A heavy sigh, tired and heavy from the day, from the looming anniversary approaching.

Mikey’s death date was creeping closer and closer, the days darker and colder as did Carmen’s demeanor. Longer days at work, distant even when he was home with you. You worried about him, though everyone told you not to.

“He just… he gets like this when it gets closer to the date, you know?” Richie muttered when you’d confided in him at family dinner. “We all get kinda fucked up, but Carm… That’s just how he is, y’know? Just give’im some time.”

Anchovy purred, rubbing against Carmen’s leg. It was almost like he knew. Carmen would swear he did, that he could sense his owner’s upset, that he was trying to make it better. He’s like you, Carmen would say, giving you a half grin that always had you swooning.

Carmen frowned when he didn’t see you lingering about. Not in the doorway smiling at them, leaning in for a kiss, wrapping him in a hug. “Babe?” Carmen called again, looking down the hall. The lights were on in the kitchen, a small clinking of bowls and silverware.

Carmen found you in front of the stove, trying to keep quiet, stirring a pan on the burner gently. “Hey,” He frowned when you jumped, turning around with a wide eyed gaze, like you’d been caught.

“Carm,” You chirped, body shimmying in front of the stove, too close to the flame in a too loose shirt. Carmen fought the urge to tell you to move or tuck your shirt in.

“You’re-You weren’t supposed to be home early.” You turned to the clock blinking on the microwave. “I-I thought you weren’t going to be home for another hour.”

“Richie told me to leave.” Carmen frowned, trying to peer around you.

“Why?” You blocked his view with your body, a side step in front of him.

“‘Cause he’s a fuckin’ jaggoff lately. What’re you doin’?” Carmen huffed lightly, grabbing your waist gently, holding you in place so he could see around you. A large pot on the stove, bubbling to life, steam clouding the clear lid that covered it.

“I’m cooking.” You huffed, shoulders deflating lightly. “I-I was going to surprise you. I had this whole thing planned, and I got candles and I was going to change out of this.” You threw your hands down on your sweatshirt- Carmen’s sweatshirt. One from Copenhagen he’d picked up when it was especially cold. You’d stolen in, not that he minded, he liked you better in it anyways.

“Was going to at least try to look a little nice.” You mutter, wiping off a small stain, a glob of tomato that had flung when the processor lid wouldn’t come off earlier.

“You look beautiful, c’mon.” Carmen shook his head at you. “What’re you- Why’re you doin’ all this?” His heart skipped for a moment, looking at the calendar pinned on the fridge. “Did I- We didn’t have plans?” Fuck, he’d been so busy he’d forgotten. Head everywhere but where it needed to be. First he was fuckin’ up dishes left and right at work, and now he couldn’t even remember a fuckin’ date.

“No,” You shook your head, stilling Carmen’s racing mind. “I just… I wanted to do something nice.” You looked up at him, hands grabbing him sweetly, holding them in your own. “For you.”

“For me?” Carmen whispered, swallowing around the tightness in his throat, in his chest. “What’re you talkin’ about for me? What-Why would you wanna-”

“Because,” You shrugged lightly, hands swinging between the two of you gently. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

Carmen saw the hesitation on your face, knew what was coming before you said it. He tensed in your hold. “I just… With everything-”

“-Don’t.” Carmen shook his head, the burn in his throat strangling his voice. “You don’t have to, baby.”

“I do.” Your eyes met his, rounding in his gaze. “I want to. I-I don’t really think it will help, but… I don’t know. Whenever I was sad my mom would make this for me.” You nod back towards the pot on the stove. “It always made me feel better.”

Carmen thought he might cry. He willed himself, squeezing your hands, pulling you into his chest to hold you. He just needed to hold you, to feel you, pressing his nose to your scalp, inhaling your scent.

All the emotions he’d repressed, swallowed down and tried to power through. Anytime he’d turn the corner, see Mikey’s smiling face on the fall and he’d feel like breaking down. Screaming, crying, punching the walls, pulling his hair out, ears ringing and heart hammering; instead, he’d go to the walk-in to breathe through collapsing lungs.

You felt Carmen’s shaky breath, rattle out of his chest and shake into yours. Your hand rubbed gently against his back, up his spine in a soothing way you hoped would calm him.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, cheeks pressed against his chest. His heart raced in your ear, a pounding thud that made your own heart squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Carm.”

“It’s alright.” Carmen gritted, jaw clenching, willing his tears back. “It’s-it’s just a lot. I don’t even fuckin’ know why. Why-Why I even get like this when-when it’s been so long.”

“Don’t do that.” You shook your head, frowning at him lightly.

“No, no it’s true. I- fuck, I shouldn’t be-”

“-Carmen,” You held his gaze firmly. His red rimmed blue eyes met yours, a little wary, vulnerable. You softened, fingers brushing through his hair. “It’s ok.”

The finality in your voice, soft but certain, it made Carmen’s jaw shake, emotions bubbling over. He held you, rocking side by side in the kitchen, cries muffled into your shoulder. You held him back, just as tight, cooing shushes over the hums of the appliances, his tears wet on his sweatshirt- your sweatshirt.

“Don’t expect a lot.” You gave a small, teasing smile over your shoulder.

Carmen had settled into his usual seat at the small kitchen table. He’d sheepishly wiped his tears, letting you dote on him sweetly. Kiss his tears away, soft lips pressing to his wet cheeks, his nose, pulling him in so his lips were on yours, arms still tangled around the other.

“It’s not, like, gourmet or anything.” You shook your head, ladling out the hot liquid into a bowl. “It is my Nana’s recipe though.”

“Better than gourmet then?” Carmen’s voice was raspy with dried tears, though he smiled lightly. Bright enough to warm your heart, leave you smiling, plating the grilled cheese.

“She’d love that you said that.” You grin, setting the steaming bowl and sandwich in front of him. You leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, a hand running down the back of his neck lovingly.

He burned at the simplicity, the sweetness of it all. So loving and affectionate freely, without any strings attached. Mikey would’ve loved you, Carmen was so sure of it.

“This is good.” Carmen nodded, swallowing his spoonful.

“Yeah?” You grinned proudly, positively beaming.

Of course it was good, the best fuckin’ thing he’s ever had. It came from you, so it only made sense it was. Carmen didn’t say that. Instead, he smiled, reaching over for your hand, squeezing it across the table. “Yeah. Amazing. Just what I needed.” He swallowed another wave of tears, happier this time. “Thank you for, uh, for doin’ this.”

“I’m glad you like it.” You propped your head in your free hand, a lopsided, lovey smile that warmed Carmen from the inside out. He knew his cheeks were blushing, tingling pink under your affectionate gaze.

“It’s really good.” Carmen took another spoonful, the warmth spilling down his throat, soothing his chest. “Sorry I came home early and didn’t call. I just… I’ve been out of my mind, y’know? I’m sorry about that too, it’s-it’s not fair to you, and-”

“-Carm,” You squeezed his hand lightly, fingers intertwining with his. “I’m glad you like it.” You smile sweetly.

Carmen nodded, leg still shaking under the table. He didn’t let go of your hand, held it in an iron grip like a lifeline and you let him, thumb sweeping over his inked knuckles calmly.

If Mikey could see him now, he’d be howling in laughter, cackling at Carmen at how “whipped” he was. Mercilessly tease him for being “soft” in a way that only a big brother could. But he knew Mikey would be so proud, so fuckin’ happy that Carmen found you- that Carmen had someone like you.

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chestersturniolo · 1 month ago

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𝙁𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧

Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

In which; You and your boyfriend Chris escape to the English countryside

based on this request

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You and Chris had been planning this countryside getaway for what felt like ages. Between the chaos of everyday life and your never-ending schedules, a break in the peaceful English countryside seemed like the perfect way to slow down, reconnect, and enjoy some much-needed time together.

As soon as you arrived, the air felt different. crisper, lighter. The cottage you’d rented was tucked away among green hills, surrounded by trees and pastures. It looked like something out of a storybook, with ivy creeping up the stone walls and a little wooden gate. You could hardly believe it was real.

Chris, with his usual playful grin, wrapped his arms around you from behind as you stood at the cottage door. “Welcome home” he whispered, resting his chin on your shoulder.

The first evening was pure magic. After settling in, you both decided to explore the nearby village. Hand in hand, you strolled through cobblestone streets, admiring the old stone houses with thatched roofs. Chris found a tiny bakery, where he insisted on getting freshly baked scones for later. “it’s traditional shit ma, we have to!”

Later, back at the cottage, Chris lit a fire in the open fireplace, and the two of you curled up infront of it on the floor. You were wrapped in a thick wool blanket, your head resting against Chris’s chest as you watched the flames dance. The scones were even better than you had expected, and Chris had laughed at you when you got a bit of clotted cream on your nose, before kissing it away.

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The next day was just as dreamy. You woke up to crisp air flowing through the cottage windows, the sound of birds chirping in the distance. Chris had already slipped out of bed, as you go to find him, he was busy making breakfast in the little kitchen. His hair was a little tousled, and his sleepy smile was so endearing that you almost melted on the spot.

After breakfast, you ventured out for a long walk through the countryside. The path wound through fields dotted with grazing sheep and little streams that glittered in tthe sunlight. You laughed as Chris tried to get a selfie with a sheep that seemed less than interested. At one point, he pulled you into his arms and spun you around, making you both dizzy with laughter. It was the kind of carefree joy you hadn’t felt in so long.

That afternoon, you found a hidden spot by a small lake. The water was so still it looked like glass, reflecting the sky and the trees around you. You both lay on the grass, staring up at the clouds, making silly guesses about their shapes. Chris’s fingers laced with yours, and for a while, neither of you said a word. There was no need to. The peace and quiet were enough.

As the sun began to set, the golden hour light beaming,, Chris pulled you close and kissed your forehead. “This is so perfect” he murmured softly. You smiled, feeling the same. It was like the world had paused, and all that mattered was the two of you in this beautiful, peaceful place.

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The next few days unfolded like something out of a movie. You and Chris had no real plans, which made it all the more perfect. you just woke up each morning and decided to let the day take you wherever it wanted.

One morning, you both slept in late, the rain pitter pattering on the window, soothing you both. It was one of those cozy, lazy mornings where you didn’t rush to do anything. Chris woke first,, pressing a kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the kitchen. When you finally dragged yourself out of bed, you found him by the window, staring out at the mist that had settled over the hills.

“How about we take the car out for a drive?” he suggested.

So, off you went, winding through narrow country lanes that seemed to lead nowhere and everywhere all at once. The mist hovered on the fields and hillsides, creating an atmosphere that made everything feel…unreal. You discovered a little town that wasn’t on any of the maps-a collection of a few cottages, a small pub, and a tiny antique shop.

The antique shop was run by an elderly couple who greeted you like you were old friends. You and Chris spent hours browsing through trinkets, from old clocks to worn-out novels. Chris found a little porcelain figurine of a sheep and jokingly declared it your “trip mascot” buying it on the spot. You couldnt help but laugh, especially when he later perched it on the dashboard of the car like a prized treasure

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Another day, the rain had cleared. You packed a simple picnic-sandwiches, fruit, and a bottle of pressed apple juice you’d picked up from the village-and walked to the top of a nearby hill. The view from there was breathtaking,,miles and miles of green. You spread out a blanket, sat down together, and just soaked it all in.

Chris laid back with his head in your lap, his eyes closed, a soft smile on his face. You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the calm settle in around you. After the picnic, Chris pulled you up and insisted on a race down the hill. You both tumbled through the grass, laughing breathlessly by the time you reached the bottom. You collapsed next to each other, your hearts racing as you cackled like idiots.

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The next day, you decided to take a long bike ride through the countryside. You rented two old-fashioned bikes from a nearby farm and pedaled through fields and along narrow trails, the wind making your hair tangle slightly. You stopped at a farmshop where they sold fresh strawberries, and you both sat on a wooden bench under an oak tree, sharing fruit while Chris made ridiculous jokes that left you in stitches.

On the way back, you found a crystal clear stream that run through the woods. You both took off your shoes and paddled in, the water refreshing. Chris, always the goofball, splashed you until you were both soaked and laughing uncontrollably. When you got back to the cottage, you both shared a candle lit bath in the old fashioned tub, talking about your day in whispers. You then got into dry clothes and made hot chocolate, curling up together in front of the fireplace once again.

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The morning of your final full day arrived. You woke to the birds chirping again, and the distant sound of cows mooing in the fields. Chris was already awake, quietly moving around the kitchen. The smell of coffee wafted through the cottage, and you smiled sleepily, stretching beneath the warm covers.

“Good morning, sleepyhead” Chris greeted you with a grin as you wandered in, still wrapped in the blanket. He handed you a steaming mug and kissed the top of your head. “I was thinking… what if we spent the whole day doing nothing but indulging ourselves?”

You raised an eyebrow “Indulging how?”

“Well, we’ve done so much exploring. How about today, we slow down? Like,lazy breakfast, maybe a visit to that little local spa I read about. Then dinner at the pub we saw down the road?”

The idea of a totally relaxed day sounded perfect. So, that’s exactly what you did. The breakfast Chris made was simple, you ate slowly, and the two of you lingered over breakfast, chatting about everything and nothing. Time felt like it didn’t exist here, and you loved it.

After breakfast, you headed to the small, rustic spa Chris had found. It was nestled in the middle of the countryside, surrounded by greenery and overlooking a peaceful pond. You were greeted with herbal teas and led into a cozy room with next to no lighting and music playing lightly in the background. You both opted for massages, and as you lay there,, the last bits of tension from city life completely faded. Chris smiled at you from the next table, his eyes half-closed in complete relaxation.

“Best decision ever” he whispered, and you couldnt agree more

After the spa, you returned to the cottage for an afternoon nap. The warm air drifting through the open windows as you lay in bed together, your head on chris’ chest as he pulls you impossibly close.

In the late afternoon you both wake before getting ready to go for food . You walked hand in hand to the local pub-a small, ivy-covered building with low ceilings and a crackling fire inside. The owner, a cheerful older man with a thick Yorkshire accent, welcomed you both warmly and showed you to a cozy table near the window.

The food was hearty and traditional. You shared fish and chips, a steak and ale pie, and a sticky toffee pudding for dessert. Between bites, you talked about everything you loved about this trip, laughing over the silly moments and cherishing the quiet ones. Outside, the sun started to set, and you could hear the distant chatter of locals enjoying their evening through the cracked window beside you.

After dinner, you took a slow walk back to the cottage under a sky filled with stars. The air was cool, but Chris pulled you close, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you strolled along the quiet road. The stars above seemed brighter here, clearer, as though you could reach up and touch them. You stopped for a moment to take it all in-this peaceful night, the warmth of Chris by your side.

“I never want this to end” you whispered

Chris smiled, pulling you even closer. “It doesn’t have to y’know. We’ll make more memories like this” he assures.

Back at the cottage, you lit a few candles and sat out on the small terrace, wrapped in blankets. Chris poured you both a glass of wine, and you spent the rest of the evening talking and laughing under the stars. The night felt endless in the best way, a perfect end to a day of pure bliss.

As the stars twinkled above, Chris leaned in, “I’m so glad we came here” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. You smiled, knowing that this trip had been more than just a getaway. It had been a beautiful pause, a chance to savor everything that really mattered. Eachother.

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The next morning , it’s was time you had to pack up and head back home, neither of you really wanted to leave. But as Chris squeezed your hand and promised, “We’ll come back. Maybe even make this a tradition” you couldn’t help but smile. The countryside had given you something special,,memories that you knew you’d carry with you forever.

And as you drove away, the cottage growing smaller in the distance, you felt content, knowing that the best part of the trip hadn’t really been the place, but simply being with Chris.

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a/n; thankyou so much for this request anon ilysm!! as an english girly i was in my ELEMENT writing this😭 imagining chris in settings close to home was so sososo fun (i need it badddd). hope you enjoyed guys!!!

love yallll

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

MASTERLIST

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azen13 · 1 month ago

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Hallooo!!

can I request a Sunday and aventurine (separate) x reader where reader has insomnia and cannot fall asleep? It’s alright if you just write for one character, whatever is most comfy for you <3 take your time and get some rest !!

Sleep, Sweet Nightingale

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A/N: Thank you so much for the ask! This was really fun to write :D I'll likely post Aventurine's in a week or two, so stay tuned for that! Thank you for your kind words <3

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Description: Sunday x Avgin!Reader | With Sunday at a meeting discussing future plans for Penacony, you find yourself struggling not only with falling asleep, but also with memories from the past. Luckily, your lover is always here to help you.

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CW: Insomnia, Dissociation, Mentions of Imprisonment, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Emotional Flashback

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Nested in soft blankets, sleep should come easy to you. You had hoped it would soothe your troubled mind, washing all of your dark, tainted thoughts away like soapy water cutting through grime; instead, you toss and turn in the tangled sheets, a sheen of sweat shining on your skin in the dim, warm lights of your apartment.

Your inability to sleep is also compounded by the fact that you’re entirely alone. Sunday is busy in a meeting with the Family–discussing a potential renovation to Oti Mall to make it more navigable–leaving an empty space on the other side of the bed. You miss your lover’s sweet, feather-light touches and chaste kisses. More than that, you miss feeling protected. The world has scraped your heart clean of any innocence, leaving you sensitive to all the cruelties of the world–cruelties that seem to hang above your head like a cloud of daggers, waiting to fall.

Signaled by the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, minutes pass by. You make a game of watching as the long hand of the clock slowly creeps past the short hand at around 2:30 a.m, and continues to race around the chapter ring like a runner in a marathon. Eventually it passes the finish line, the clock ringing in quiet celebration as a new race begins.

After another minute or two, you finally decide to push the plush sheets off your body and get out of bed. Sunday had recently bought you some medication to help with your sleeping problems, but he had kept them hidden away somewhere. The lack of trust stung, but you believed him when he said he was doing it out of worry for your wellbeing. You could look for it, but knowing Sunday and his penchant for being meticulous, you’d only bring yourself into a fit of frustration, making your mind more dysfunctional than it already feels.

Instead, you decide to wander the apartment aimlessly, a blanket wrapped around your body that billows behind you. From the bedroom to the parlor, the kitchen to the study, you search for something to pass the time, but find yourself rejecting any potential forms of entertainment. You can hardly fathom reading a book with how tired your eyes are, and the TV is too loud–even at the lowest volume.

So, you settle down on a sofa in the parlor and try to block out the world by wrapping yourself up in your blanket. For a second, you try to close your eyes, but open them in an instant.

The overhead light feels less warm now, washing the room out with fluorescence. You can feel your heart beginning to leak, waves of emotions tossing it to and fro. Impressions of words spoken to you years ago press against your skin–not heard, but felt. No tears spring from your eyes–a habit built from near-daily torment, of knowing that your captors would only revel in the sight of your sadness and attempt to draw more of it out. Instead, your hands grip against the blanket. The rhythm they take up isn’t a thought so much as a motion, letting you escape the sinking ship of your soul. Clench, unclench, clench.

Then you hear the lock of the apartment door click. As though electrified, your body freezes from head to toe.

“My dove? Where. . .you?”

“Dearest?”

You hardly register Sunday moving out of the corner of your eye and taking a seat in a chair a few feet away from the sofa. After a moment, your lips open, words trickling out. They are uttered on their own accord–not a thought, but a motion, same as your hands.

The look on Sunday’s face softens. His words move in and out of focus as he begins to speak again.

“. . .you’re dissociating, my. . . Let me help . . . you name five . . . you see?”

Again, as if compelled by some supernatural force, you begin to speak again. It’s as though you’re speaking a foreign language you never learned.

“Wonderful. . . amazing. How about. . . things you. . . touch?”

“Now try to. . . three things. . .can hear?

Halfway through naming two things you can smell, the world sharpens, like shifting a camera’s focus. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, aware of how tense your body is.

“Are you back in the present with me now, my sweet?” Sunday asks quietly. His tender voice is almost a whisper, aware of how sensitive you might be to loud noises right now.

You nod weakly, feeling beginning to return to your body, a shuddering breath filling your lungs. “I think so.” It feels true. As if in confirmation, your heart beats out a steady ‘Yes’.

“I’m glad.” Sunday folds his hands in his lap, eyes reading between the lines of your face. “It’s getting late. Would you like me to help you to bed?”

“Yes please.”

Slowly, Sunday stands. He extends a hand out, not as a demand, but an offer. A choice. It’s an easy one that you decide to take, clasping it like a lifeline as he guides you back to the bedroom. Humming gently, he fluffs up the comforter and the pillows, doing his best to maximize your comfort.

“If you’d like, I can sleep in the guest bedroom-” “Stay.”

Your response is a plea, one Sunday is happy to comply with. Quietly, you watch as he begins to get ready for bed, his routine methodical and precise. Through it all, he keeps a quiet vigil over you, even as he brushes his teeth and preens his feathers. After it’s all said and done, your lover quietly crawls into bed, eyes gazing gently at you. “If you need anything, let me know,” he says quietly. In response, you gently grab one of his hands, and move it over your shoulder, before grabbing the other. Sunday allows you to position his arms how you wish, only adjusting after you finish. “May your dreams be sweet, my dove,” Sunday whispers, voice reverent like a prayer, as you begin to drift off into a soothing sleep.

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #sunday hsr #hsr sunday #hsr sunday x you #hsr sunday x y/n #sunday x you #sunday x reader #sunday x y/n #hsr sunday x reader #hsr fic #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x male reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader

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kedsandtubesocks · 10 months ago

Text

your heart, a sonnet

Author!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: you discover there’s more to your boyfriend than you realize

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, surprise hidden identity reveal, grumpy but soft!Joel who has a secret love language of writing and love letters, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older & in his 50’s), light discussion of reader and Joel’s insecurities, reader is addressed as darlin/honey/baby, a few spicy moments where Joel gets handsy

word count: 5.3k

a/n: I know, I know… this doesn’t seem like the typical Joel fic but i blame Pedro’s look at the Hollywood star walk of fame ceremony because it immediately made me think ‘oh that’s Joel’ and now here we are lol I couldn’t have done this without my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you and i can’t thank her enough along with @ahauntedcowboy for always letting me scream about all my wild ideas, and now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

You first met Joel at a bookstore.

The weekend after your birthday you went in to treat yourself and wandered into the records section of the store. As you flipped through the selections, the sudden sight of a Fleetwood Mac album had you inhaling sharply in surprise.

“S’good one.” That’s when the sudden smooth drawl of a southern accent floated out to you.

A few steps beside you stood an absolutely gorgeous man. The evergreen plaid button up shirt he wore flattered him as if it was made to be only worn by him. Rugged and distinguished, he seemed like a romance hero plucked straight out from one of the books among the shelves. You even blinked a few times wondering if he was real.

“If you don’t take it, might have to fight ya for it.” Even with his gruff low voice, an underlying teasing nature radiated friendly and light.

Now, many months later, a piece of you believes you might have fallen for him right then and there.

Joel is a rare beautiful soul of a man. He’s strong and a bit rough around the edges. He used to work as a contractor, even managed to build a very reputable business with his brother. His hard work remains effortlessly etched into his hands that now type editing books, his current job. He’s kind, so deeply loyal and loves fiercely.

With a yawn, you slip out of bed to pull on his cozy Texas longhorn shirt.

Heading downstairs, you walk among the clouds.

Instead of working at his office desk, Joel sits at the dining table typing away. Just seeing him wear his reading glasses sends a delicious desire trickling through you like a soft rain.

His dark earth eyes flicker up over the edge of his laptop and his gaze softens.

“Was wonderin’ when you were gonna wake up.” His wonderfully smooth as molasses voice makes you want to get caught up in its sticky sweetness.

“It’s not even that late. You’re one who woke up wanting to get work done on a Saturday.” You scoff playfully yet press your lips to his, a soft good morning greeting.

“Besides…who’s the reason I slept in so soundly, hm?” You smile against Joel’s lips that now twitch with a smirk.

His large warm hand slowly creeps up against your bare leg and rubs soft against your skin. After a few sleepy kisses, Joel’s tongue smoothly slips into your mouth trying to now consume you with a syrupy heat.

Joel pulls you down onto his lap. Your hands run up his chest to his cherub curly gray hair. His lips leave yours to start nipping at your jaw.

“What happened to working, cowboy?” You sigh softly.

“Come keep me company, darlin’.” He breathes out and any hope of maybe making breakfast is happily forgotten.

The rest of the morning unfolds at a nebulous pace you bask in.

When a late brunch is finished and you start cleaning up the kitchen, Joel’s warm solid hands map out your hips with other plans in mind. He slides behind you, a towering comfort that you lean back against.

“You’re extra handsy today Mr. Miller.” You tease.

“I can stop?” Joel offers while his scruffy beard scrapes a path against your skin. Against you, his broad shoulders, his wonderfully built frame, wraps you in his protective cover.

You hum a content no and move your hands over his now.

“Just wanna enjoy being with ya before I get busy.” Joel mutters while his hand slides down your cozy lounge shorts.

You had forgotten about his upcoming work plans.

You already want to mourn the impending weekend without him, but that can wait for another day. Especially when his thick fingers delicately, so sinfully, run up and down your underwear playfully touching you.

But then that weekend arrives and it brings a hollowness.

Lounging on the couch back at the apartment you share with your best friend, you force yourself not to text Joel again. He’s busy and you know this. So you vow to hold all your yearning and longing chained inside like a Jane Austen heroine.

“Are you done sulking?” Your best friend teases from the kitchen and you glare at her from the couch.

“I get it, being awake from your hunky handsome older boyfriend is hard. What will you ever do?” She snickers playfully. You’re tempted to throw the nearby couch pillows at her.

“What did you say his job was?” She asks.

“He used to be a contractor, but now he’s a book editor.” You answer.

“A hardworking hot Texas cowboy who reads and is a good man? Yeah, keep him locked up.” Your best snorts and you understand exactly what she means.

Fanged temptation claws at you more to text him again. Joel promised he would call you tonight and you don’t doubt him. But you didn’t realize how badly you’d missed him.

“Alright,” your best friend declares. “No more moping! I’m dragging you out with me to that book signing I’ve been talking about.”

She’s been obsessed with this apocalyptic novel series for so long. You happily tag along and even perk up when you see how excited she gets.

“And the author is finally doing a book tour! He’s kept his identity hidden this entire time so I wanna get a chance to maybe just even see him!” Your best friend gushes the entire time she drives you both to the bookstore the signing would be held.

Just so happens it’s the same bookstore where you first met Joel. A deep surge of affection swallows you whole and you float on blissful lovesick nostalgia.

Then the impressive line already waiting outside the front doors stuns you.

“I told you! It’s a big deal! Plus the series is so good.” Your best friend exclaims. She has been trying to get you into the series for a while.

The core of it focuses on two young girls who manage to survive an apocalyptic fungal zombie outbreak. The series follows the girls growing up, the journey to live with each other, and how it slowly bonds them as sisters.

“I heard they’re trying to make a Netflix series on it.” Your friend adds hopeful.

You can’t help but snag your best friend’s book copy she also hopes will get signed. Flipping through the front pages you land to the dedication page.

“To my baby girls, this will always be for you two.”

The author must have based the series on their daughters. That’s adorable.

Now curious, you flip to the first chapter.

“After seeing the end of the world, after witnessing the carnage of life consume itself, Ellie thinks she’s seen it all.”

Your best friend's sudden excited laugh pulls you out of the book. She’s talking with the other fans in line and you decide to join in.

Everyone discusses how worth the wait will be and how most of them even purchased the newest released book to make sure they reserved a slot for the signing.

“So why��s the author finally doing a face reveal?” You ask quietly not wanting to seem too out of place.

“So apparently,” your best friend begins in her hush about to spill the good gossip voice. “Some random ass moron on Twitter came out and said they were the true author. It became a whole messy issue of who it really was.”

Your best friend goes into more detail about how even a couple of online sites had articles on it.

“That’s awful.” You sympathize with the author. It must’ve been a headache trying to enjoy the peace of anonymity only for it becoming something used against them. You can only imagine how heartbreaking it was to see others steal and take credit for your work.

Like a surprise strike of lightning, an electric excitement suddenly breaks through the air.

Glancing up, you watch the line rapidly move towards the front doors. Time to go in.

Unfortunately, the main seating for the reading and q&a fills up fast. The bookstore though manages to wrangle the remainder of the crowd that can fit on the first floor towards a section where they can watch. It’s more than enough for your best friend who’s about to burst with anticipation. The buoyant commotion in the room even pulls you into its current and you get excited to see the new surprise author.

Soon a chic handsome older looking man, the moderator of the event, scurries to the front of the gathered group.

Warmly he begins the introduction to the writer.

First, writing sweet children’s books, stories for his daughters, those works became the author’s first publications. After that he navigated apocalyptic writing and his hit series has earned critical acclaim.

“Simply known as the anonymous writer J Miller. I’ve had the greatest pleasure to know this man as both his friend and now agent and I’m beyond proud to introduce him to you. Everyone please help me in welcoming J Miller!”

The thunderous applause and screams of excitement galvanize the entire room.

Then Joel walks out from the side.

Your heart instantly leaves your body.

For a moment you think your lovesick yearning heart has you slightly projecting Joel in any man you might see.

But the minute you focus, truly watch him slide into the chair, you see him.

Soft gray grown out curls, a strong beautiful nose, the patchy beard with the spots you love to kiss, and his reading glasses - the ones he’s so self conscious about because of how they make him look “so good damn old,” yet you love how they distinguish and elevate his appearance. You even remember the first time Joel wore them while he read waiting for you.

Truth makes its way into your heart.

It’s Joel.

The famous mystery author is your Joel.

“Thanks Frank.” And when he takes the mic, thanking his agent, his slick southern sunset voice melts the crowd.

“So, uh he’s gorgeous?!” Someone behind you squeals.

“Who would’ve thought he’d be this hot?!” Someone adds.

The whispers and mummers swarm like wasps buzzing all around you and you want to swat at them.

You can’t wrap your mind around this or the amount of emotions rushing through you. You feel separated from your body, floating detached from the scene and trying to gather yourself back.

Why didn’t he tell you?

Did he not trust you?

Joel suddenly laughs at something Frank says, that gruff wonderful laugh you hear after you show him a ridiculous video or his daughters tease him. It snaps you back into awareness.

“He’s about to read a section!” Your friend giddily whispers under her breath

Now you fully focus on this man, this almost stranger.

He’s so handsome it isn’t fair. He looks like a distinguished professor and your throat tightens seeing how broad his shoulders look in the dark casual suit jacket he wears.

“One of my favorite parts.” He admits quietly. “It’s when Ellie and Sarah realize they can make it outta Pittsburgh together.”

His daughters. He named his characters after them.

Joel clears his throat and begins.

He reads the passage with a magnetic cadence. The words slip from him like the smooth drink of whiskey that lingers on your tongue. When he finishes, an ache twists in your chest.

The applause he gets is shatteringly loud. The smallest bit of pride does float through you. But confusion drowns it out.

The floor now opens to quick questions. Some are about the book itself and the certain decisions made writing wise. Others are obviously about why he stayed hidden for so long.

That one perks you up quickly.

In such typical Joel fashion, he shrugs.

“Just couldn’t figure out Twitter, s’all.”

Everyone laughs at his playful reply and you do as well, but it sounds hollow and watery.

Soon enough the last question arrives.

“Do you ever see yourself writing for any other genres? I mean, we’ve seen horror and some moments of romance in the series. So I’m just curious if you’d write anything else?!” The lady asks brightly and now you simply settle your thoughts aside to listen.

Joel chuckes, a bit breathless and his gaze drops. This entire time he’s teetered between a sly southern charm that’s hypnotized you, to being guarded almost a bit nervous.

But now a boyishly hesitant grin falls over him and it’s so familiar.

”Uh, guess romance would be the next I’d maybe try.” He answers low, bashful.

The crowd erupts into fangirl like shrieks.

“Right?! I keep saying he doesn’t know the potential he has if he became a romance writer!” Frank, who has such a bright and lovely personality, adds.

Too many emotions clash in you.

You wonder if he wants to explore romance writing because of you?

Or a much harsher voice creeps out from the back of your mind whispering maybe you’re just being used for source material.

You quickly stomp those thoughts away.

The rest of the event shifts to the signing and you walk in a sort of guided daze.

“You okay?” Your best friend asks gently, noticing your slight mood change.

You don’t have the heart to tell her the truth yet. This was something she had been looking forward to and you didn’t want to ruin her excitement or experience. So you wearily just smile and tell her your head simply started hurting.

She sympathetically nods.

“Thankfully we won’t be waiting too long.” She adds and explains how the signing would be called by groups.

“We might not have gotten seats, but we did manage to sneak into group A for the signing.” She grins proud and it lifts your spirits.

The line curls against the sides of the bookshelves blocking your view of Joel. It becomes both a blessing and a curse.

Maybe you should wait in the car for his and your sake?

However, something inside you slightly bitter, raw and wanting answers, decides to stay. Besides you, your dear friend tries to keep herself calm but you can sense her bubbling nervous energy.

“I’d be calmer if he wasn’t so damn attractive.” She hisses and a jealous flare gently rises in you.

“Just think,” you reassure her. “He’s probably just as nervous as you.”

The relieved comforted grin she gives you makes staying worth it. But then all of that flies out the window the closer and closer you get to Joel.

Petrified dread claws its way in when you realize your best friend is next in line.

“He looks kinda familiar now that we’re closer.” The casual comment your friend says makes your heart sink.

“Maybe.” You mutter.

The times Joel has been to your place your roommate, your best friend, has been either at work or sleeping. You can only think of the first instant you introduce Joel to her when he picked you up on a date.

Your eyes flicker straight to Joel.

His hair seems so perfectly curled and his dark jacket highlights his wonderful grays.

Thankfully, any discussion of who he might look like gets squashed because your best friend gets called next in line. She turns to you squeaking excitedly and you beam back bright.

Joel lifts his eyes up, like a true southern gentleman wanting to give someone his full attention.

You wait on the side and watch the interaction unfold. Joel chuckles at something your best friend says and you’re glad she’s enjoying herself.

The book signing is done so fast. In a blink, it’s finished. With her newly signed book, your friend turns to you. She makes a slightly embarrassing but endearing noise of excitement that has you laughing.

That’s when your eyes flicker over to Joel and your gaze locks with his.

Instantly, Joel’s handsome face drops. His gorgeous earth eyes widen as he immediately recognizes you. His mouth falls open slightly and a flash of something close to fear fills the depths of his eyes.

He breathes out your name on a shaky exhale.

Everything seems to slow and stop. You don’t know what to say. So all you do is weakly smile.

The fleeting moment fades. The next group in line already giggles moving towards the table.

Time’s up. Turning on your heels to leave with your friend, Joel calls out to you, calls your name.

“Wait!”

You freeze.

Glancing back at him, Joel’s eyes pin you on the spot. An unspoken heaviness hangs in his deep eyes while he stares intently at you.

“It’s okay, we’ll talk later.” By some strange possession of slight bravery, or maybe delusion, you manage to speak.

But it’s all you can say and it’s all you can do before Frank, Joel’s agent, slides in to whisper something to him.

The moment again shatters.

Your best friend however grills you the rest of the day

That’s when you pull out your phone. You show her a photo you secretly took of Joel. It’s one where he’s adorably glaring at his ipad while he tried ordering take out for dinner.

Your best friend shrieks. “He’s your boyfriend?!”

He is.

Your boyfriend, Joel, is a writer, a very famous best selling author.

And that weight yanks you under a dangerous current you can’t seem to swim against.

Even after lunch, even getting back to your apartment and trying to settle your thoughts, your emotions are still so tangled.

You mindlessly scroll through your phone for the rest of the day and a blink, you notice it’s already early evening. Your plan to stay sulking is ruined when your phone starts ringing so loud.

It’s Joel.

“Hello?” You answer as composed as you can.

“Darlin?” His beautiful rich voice sounds hesitant and guarded.

“Hi.” You reply back quietly.

“Can we talk?” He asks just as low.

You agree, expecting to have the discussion on the phone. Except a knock taps on your apartment door and scares you right out of your body.

Ever proactive, ever the man who takes action, Joel stands waiting for you when you open the door.

You’re thankful more than ever that your best friend went to the gym for the evening.

“Wanna sit outside for a bit? Maybe get some air? S’really nice outside today.” He offers gentle.

He’s breaking up with you. That’s what your mind jumps to.

At least the weather is surprisingly kind this early evening.

You’ve sat out here on your apartment’s decent sized balcony with Joel before. But now the energy between you and him shifts strangely.

The sky stretches above a soft sherbet orange. A breeze comes, thankfully not too cold, but you think about maybe heading in to grab a blanket.

Joel however quickly slings off his jacket and drapes it over you. Always the gentleman.

The smell of his cologne, so comforting and masculine, wraps around you like a cloud.

You thank him with a soft small smile and Joel nods. Then he sighs and leans forward on the folding chair.

“Always loved the outdoors.” He begins, a small olive branch of a conversation to break the tension. “The girls and I love hiking the trails out by the lake. You ever been?”

You shake your head no.

“Maybe one day we can all go together.” The comment holds hope, a delicate thread of it. Yet you catch the hesitation.

Your eyes flicker to him, confused and cautious.

“Wait, you aren’t breaking up with me?” You blurt out, maybe just wanting to get it over with. You hate the way your voice cracks slightly.

Joel, with his beautiful concerned wide eyes, snaps his face to you.

“What? Honey no. Thought maybe you’d be the one maybe tryin’ to break up with me.” Joel, who Sarah jokes about how some of their neighbors question if he’s perpetually grumpy, stares at you with a tenderness that melts you to your core.

You can’t help but laugh watery.

“Why d’ya think I’d want to end things with you?” He asks patiently.

You can think of so many.

He’s a famous writer who’s about to maybe become an online sensation. He’s older than you, wiser and seasoned. He’s a full on father with young teenage daughters.

So you reveal your heart to him and all the fears that dwell in its shadows. You wipe away a few tears that manage to spill out.

Joel moves to hold your hands in his, a guarded warmth and protection keeping you stable.

With a heavy sigh, Joel’s attention fully focused on you.

“Honey…I’m so sorry for not telling you about my work, about me, sooner.” He earnestly apologizes and his words drip with comforing earnesty.

Now his gaze drops down to where your hand sits in his.

“Didn’t want it complicatin’ things with us. I knew I had to tell you eventually. But really…I was worried you’d see me differently once you knew. I know I don’t seem like the writin’ type anyway.” He mutters and you miss the hint of embarrassment coloring his tone.

You squeeze his hands.

This could never make you look at Joel in a negative light. If anything, you now feel proud knowing he’s a writer. You do explain your worries though and the ache you felt knowing he kept his from you.

“I know darlin’ and I promise,” he squeezes your hands now. “No more secrets between us.”

“You…us…means more to me than you’ll know.” He adds and you draw his hands up to your mouth.

You kiss his worn hands, his hard working beautiful hands that now move to hold your face so tenderly in their grasp. His thumb strokes your bottom lip delicately as if you’ll disappear from his sight.

“Can I kiss ya baby?”

You nod and in that same breath Joel pulls you towards him. He kisses you light, delicate enough that you feel so precious and treasured within his hold.

It seems like such a simple small kiss but it soaks into your bones.

You have so many questions. And as much as you’d like to make out with your boyfriend on the balcony, you’d like answers.

So you pull away and stand up.

Joel looks adorable as confusion paints his face.

“Don’t worry I’m just getting us a blanket.” You grin at him as you sling on his jacket claiming it as your own.

Blanket in hand you now curl up with him in the lawn chair, thankful for its sturdiness and cozy size. Your heart soars at how quickly Joel pulls you into his arms and basically onto his lap.

It feels like it’s been months since you’ve last been with him, or maybe that’s just how exhausting today was.

Joel sighs content and pleased once you fully rest against him. Hesitantly you ask if it’s okay if you can talk about him, about his work.

“Ask away honey. I’ll tell ya everything n’ anything.” He says firm.

You grin and your thumb starts stroking the back of his hand.

“So what made you decide to reveal yourself now? I heard there was an issue about someone saying they were you?” You ask, thinking of the discussions earlier with your best friend.

“Yeah..” Joel now sighs tired with an ancient weariness that settles over his handsome face.

“Sarah was the one who saw it first on Twitter or wherever it was.” He adds with a grumble.

Your heart aches knowing one of the girls saw it first.

“Didn’t help either that I ain’t online. So it became a whole fuckin’ mess we had to deal with it a couple months back.”

A light bulb goes off inside your brain.

“Was that when you said you had to visit a family friend out of town?” You connect the dots.

“Yup.” Joel nods. “Went to visit Frank, my agent, to try and figure this shit out. Could’ve let it all maybe die down but… ya know.” He huffs and you understand completely.

Joel is too stubborn, a bit too prideful. You almost snort amused just over the thought of him trying to let the situation blow over.

“Frank wants to meet ya by the way.” Now his voice dips with a bashful tone while his hands begin softly stroking your thighs.

“I’d love to meet him too.” You truthfully tell Joel.

“So, are you going to be online now? Should I start making secret accounts to follow you?” You now tease and Joel barks a beautiful amused laugh.

“Baby, I’m over 50. The only apps I need on my phone are candy crush and ESPN. Ain’t got the time or patience for social medias.”

Now you’re the one laughing.

It feels freeing, blissful, like this is the first moment you’re spending time with him all over again. Yet, there’s a deeper sacred connection that settles.

You can’t help but kiss him again and Joel eagerly welcomes you on his lips.

Now his lips move fervently, almost possessively, against yours, licking and trying to consume you. A small moan squeaks out of you.

“Come on baby,” he mutters, shifting you against his lap so that you fully feel his hardness straining against his pants. “Wanna taste ya.”

You’re thankful you manage to drag him back inside because you can’t imagine getting intimate with Joel on the balcony. Well, at least not yet. But that was a thought for another day.

Now in the afterglow’s soft relaxing peace you wish for more time with him.

But Joel must sense that ache too.

“S’late honey. Come back home with me. Even if it’s just for the night.” He mutters against your lips and you can’t deny him. You don’t want to deny him or the aching tug pulling you to him.

That night you fully embrace every inch of the man Joel Miller is and let a dizzying adoration for him swallow you whole.

The next morning, in the soft early still dark shade of his room, Joel wakes you with a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Gotta go meet with Frank for the day. I’ll see ya later, honey.” He mutters against your cozy heated skin.

You hum a soft agreement and sleepily wish him a goodbye before falling back to sleep. After that, you wake up later to a colder and empty bed.

Tugging on another one of Joel’s shirts you head downstairs already missing his presence.

And when you get downstairs, there on the table sits the most gorgeous floral arrangement. Its beautiful vibrant blooms make your heart flutter so fast against its cage.

A folded paper sits beside the flowers. Your name is written on the front in Joel’s slightly chicken scratch like handwriting.

You scramble fast to grab it.

A letter, he’s written you a letter.

“Honey,

I know I’ve already apologized and you’ve forgiven my old undeserving ass.”

You snort at that line but continue on.

“But I just wanted to fully apologize to you again. Might take me a while until I stop, but just be patient with my old bones yeah?”

You would. Your heart would and will always wait for him.

“Doesn’t seem like it but, I aint that good at talking about things, about my feelings. Shocker right?”

You smirk. You know he isn’t good with words - that’s why it almost feels ironic and a bit unreal that he’s an author.

You’ve discovered Joel shows his affection through his actions.

He spent an entire day rearranging a business scheduling conflict just so that Tommy didn’t have to worry about it. Joel never missed a single one of Ellie’s basketball games. Sarah only prefers a certain type of orange juice and Joel never fails to only get that one.

The first few weeks you started dating Joel you got sick with a nasty cold. He dropped off a whole bag of various items like tissues and cough drops. It was then you knew his heart shines through his actions.

He sometimes surprises you with an order from your favorite take out spot. He never lets you touch a door, always opening them for you instead. He’s the most generous lover and never fails to remind you of how tender, how consuming, his passion can be.

Joel does grumble, sometimes even seems grouchy, but he loves fiercely.

And now here he is showing you this side of him, this form of himself as a writer.

So you return to reading his letter.

“I got into writing because it helped me process all my emotions, my thoughts, the good and bad days - everything. And sharing my writing with others, especially with someone as important as you, still makes me feel so vulnerable. Funny how that worked out though huh? Guess fate wanted to drag my ass and make me face my fears and vulnerability and whatnot.”

Someone as important as you - The line makes your heart flutter.

“I know I told you the reasons why I didn’t tell you. But another reason was because I was afraid.

I was afraid of how much you mean to me. Telling you about this part of me would be taking a bigger step. And it scared me shitless. Cause darlin’ I haven’t felt this way in a very long time. Like, as Ellie loves to say, in such a long time that ‘dinosaurs weren’t even fossils.’

That makes you laugh a bit watery but you let his words carry you again.

“You make my damn heart race when you smile. I get so worked up just seeing you walk around my house as if you were always meant to be here. And I didn't want to lose that either. I still don’t.

You feel like a bright future, like waking up after a cloudy week and the sun greets you so nicely. And I just wanna stay in that warmth, your warmth.

Yeah sorry, that line might be too romance novel writer for my league…but like I said I’m thinking about it. And it’s because of you.

We said no more secrets yeah?

So I’m not lying when I say you’ve become so god damn important to me. And I wanna see more days with you, as many as you’ll have with me.

Fuck. This damn letter already feels too long and I hate my old ass for rambling and maybe not making sense. But I adore you honey. Plain in simple.

And I’m just gonna leave it at that.

Don’t miss me too much and I’ll see you soon.

P.S I picked that bookstore as the tour’s first stop here because it’s where I met you… and I’ll always be grateful for that

-Joel”

You now fight back an absolute ocean’s worth of adoration for this man.

Tears clog your throat and you try not letting them flood your vision, but it’s so hard. So hard when you’re this head over heels.

You don’t want to say it yet, and you don’t know if he’s even ready to say it, but the emotion filling you like a newborn star feels like love.

You barely manage to send out a text thanking him and hoping you’ll get to talk to him soon.

Joel, ever the endearing man he is, replies back with a simple heart emoji and you laugh.

You really might love this man.

And you hope, you so brightly hope, that he maybe loves you too.

You think of his book series, of how he became a writer simply wanting to tell his daughters stories. Those stories grew out of his love for them and now he gets to crystallize that among his pages.

You realize how writing truly is its own form of love.

After all, what better way for a writer to show their love, their heart, than to capture you in their words?

You think that’s where writers must live now, in the heart. Or maybe - your maybe gruff handsome one just does. And you happily welcome Joel’s place in yours and hope he resides there forever like a love poem etched into your very soul.

#hello hi if you read this know me and author Joel are writing you a love letter #Joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #author!joel miller #Joel miller fic #Joel 🤎

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