#do you reach out to his open inviting hand?
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Kinktober 🎃 day nine: Cheating!
cw: cheating, dubcon, noncon, mentions on rape, open relationships? (Johnny and Simon share), rough sex, mentions of blood, mentions of saliva, fingering, oral sex on reader, bruising, voyeurism, ‘don’t get caught’ trope, ignorance, degrading names such as ‘whore’, vocal Simon, creampie, mentions of having a child
Simon and Johnny who are so used to sharing each other’s little toys: their own girlfriends. It’s a weird bond that brings the two of them together. It’s sick and fucking perverted but it’s something to talk about when the weather turns cold and on a mission.
Sipping on their drinks as they recharge their batteries mumbling a, 'Remember so and so?’ getting a ‘Yeah, they were a good fuck.' in response.
It was more than likely one of the reason why the two blokes struggled with keeping their girlfriends. Most of them rejecting and breaking up with them when they’d bring it up because what woman who was looking for a family, a life, love, would want to fuck their boyfriend’s best friend? Or be tampered with?
The two of them had grown a lot of respect and loyalty for each other from this little routine. A ridiculous amount when you put it against how much respect they gained from each other at war. Protecting one and others lives, killing for each other, just doesn't help the same than sharing some good pussy. Weird logic that not even they understood but with all said, they were tight, close.
So when Johnny got his hands on you, a pretty little thing that refused to fuck until the third date he knew not only was he in danger, but you were. He knew how much Simon would ruin you, take that precious little hole of yours and stuff you so deep you'd feel it for days. Johnny just fucking knew it would happen and when you'd finally let him inside, invited him into your heavenly cunt- he couldn’t let him steal you.
Too delicate and light for Simons heavy way with sex.
"So when's my turn?" The gruff, masked man would ask Johnny. Conversation of you being brought up and the words just tumbled from the cracks of his lips. Normality and need seeping through his tone because as it was such a statement in his and Johnny's relationship, he’d think no other way.
Not once would he even consider the possibility of Johnny turning around and refusing, saying no. Telling him that your pussy- your body- is just for him. Claiming you against his own kind. Barricading and locking you away from him in his designed cell of greed.
It wasn’t going to end well, Johnny was sure of it, so with an awkward laugh and the rub of his neck he spun around facing him, eyes catching Simons through the mask before clearing his throat. Words coming across shakier than intended because he wasn't intimidated by Simon, more fretful of what he’d do knowing that you were off limits.
"Actually, lass is a good' ne. Think she might be a keeper Si." Silence filling the room for about five seconds, the slow click of the clock on the wall the only audible thing. Simons gaze not changing once and it killed Johnny, bugged him harder than a kick to the teeth.
Everything about him yearning to know what Simons brain was thinking or what he was planning, wanting to reach out and shake him, beg him to back off. They were getting old now, it was bound to be called off at some point- when they properly wanted to settle down and have kids and a family, right?
"Oh really?" His accent and words a monotone warning but Johnny was so flushed with relief that he hadn’t exploded and raged at him, his ears missed it. Missed the way his blinks slowed, analysing the man in front of him. Missed the way Simons personally and mindset changed. New thoughts drowning his head so hard he forced out exhales to think straight. Did he think he was better than him? More deserving of your body than gruff ol’ Simon over here? Worthier?
He was fucking seething, the metallic taste in his mouth potent as he bit his tongue, refraining to tell Johnny to go fuck himself, stand up and find you. Go track you down and make you cry both of their names just so he can hear which one sounds better or which one turns him on more.
Moaning your boyfriend’s name so loudly while his friend hits that one part. Choking out, crying out for Mactavish as your eyes roll back, tongue drooping out the side of your lips too. He’d be a liar to say his dick wasn't twitching at the thought.
"Yeah, I'm so sorry Simon-" But he was already shaking his head, hand waving him off with a sly smirk on his face as he told him no worries! Told him that's its alright and that he completely understands. Barely moving an inch the rest of the night as he came up with plans on what he's going to do to you. What he did in fact do to you.
Face down in yours and Johnny’s double bed. Panties damp with your cum from how many times Simon had already made you orgasm, shirt wet with tears and saliva. Rubbing your clit so harshly and fast your body trembled at every little touch. The fine line between touching and fucking, abuse and rape being blurred but you craved it. You longed for it, days of wishing and wondering when he’d come back to please you again.
He’d force your legs apart, holding you by the ankles while he ate like a mad man. Devouring you messily, the noises sounding like a fucking porn movie. Ruining your makeup, your sheets, your body. You couldn’t look Johnny in the eye when he got on all fours, kissing your thigh and humming against the soft skin while asking how you’d got another bruise.
Day and night- when Johnny's downstairs and when he's away. He'd have you begging to stop, pleading him to let you go before you’d lose yourself. His thrusts silencing you, cries turning to moans back to cries to screams of joy- it was mesmerising and so fucking bad of him.
“Oh shut up, babe. You know you want me.” He’d grunt, eyes shutting as he took you in again and again. Eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and ignorance for your cries. Knowing it was only a matter of time before you gave in again, joining him and thrusting back against his cock.
What made it worse was the moans that came from this man. Johnny was never vocal- never vocal enough for you but Simon sounded almost in tears. Each thrust like he’s on the brink of orgasm, you felt so good he couldn’t stay quiet- he didn’t want to.
His favourite memory was when he snuck into your window, almost kicking the stupid Halloween decorations Johnny had put up outside on his way up. The sky pitch black and your bedroom likewise but he could see you in his night vision goggles, sneaking behind you as you changed out of your clothes getting ready for bed.
Bending you over the bedframe, peeling down your panties and thrusting into you for a quickie. The sound of Johnny's electric toothbrush coming from the bathroom one room away only adding to his excitement. He could step in any minute by now, luckily from the darkness Simon had an advantage and most likely enough time to hide if he wanted to. If he wanted to leave your pussy.
Gloved fingers slipped into your mouth for you to suck or bite. Anything to help silence your moans. It excited him the fact that Johnny could find him, Johnny could catch him and realise all this time he though you were safe and committed to him you’d gone behind his back. His precious little girl who actually is just a dirty whore. A dirty whore who lets her hole be used. By men she doesn’t even know.
He wonders what you do when Johnny brings him up in conversation, I mean, he figures you haven't spilt the beans to him yet so do you just laugh and nod on along? Hearing his name, acting like you don't know his touch or how his tongue feels. Pretending he's a stranger, just some stranger who's dick is drilled into your memory. He doesn't fuck like Johnny, he's bigger than him, hits all the places that Johnny can’t. You can never get Simon out of your mind.
Filling you up with his cum and laughing deeply at himself. He's got to be careful with it- what if you two were trying for a baby? That would be a shock, wouldn’t it? Gorgeous little kid coming out looking just like Simon- Simons eyes, Simons hair; a little mini Simon left all for you to raise.
Maybe Johnny would be too thick to realise, too slow to pick up on why his son looks so much like his best friend- that the son he’d always wanted actually belong to Simon. Oh fucking hell, he was a dark deluded arsehole- who thinks like this? Slipping back out of the window and shutting it the same time as Johnny walked into the room.
Large soft body crawling on top of you and pushing you further into the bed. Lips attacking your sensitive neck as his already hard cock slips its way inside of your warm, creampied folds. The darkness hiding all the evidence and leaving him to believe it’s just how wet you are for him. How needy and desperate you are for him.
Blissfully unaware that the wetness lubing his cock up, letting him fuck you with ease and making him feel so hot and so good, was no other than his best friends cum. Dribbling out your hole and onto your thigh as he picks up the pace.
#call of duty#cod mw2#cod smut#cod x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost simon riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley fanfiction#call of duty smut#dark smut#soap mactavish#cod soap#soap call of duty#soap cod#soap mw2#soap x reader smut#john soap mactavish x reader#johnny soap mctavish x you#johnny mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#johnny soap mctavish x reader#soap x reader#soap smut#john soap mactavish#simon riley smut#cod x reader smut
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THATS SO TRUE!
synopsis: you and chris broke up not that long ago, but still stayed friends. what if one day he brings his new girl to you and the triplets movie night?
pairing: ex! chris sturniolo & f! reader
warning: use of y/n, jealousy, anxiety attack!!, emotionally/micro-cheating
you sat on the triplets couch with matt right next to you. while scrolling on your phone you hear chris, “hey guys, is it okay if i invite amelia over?” he says walking down the stairs.
amelia is chris’ new girl, and she’s absolutely gorgeous. blue eyes, blonde hair and just everything you would want to be. you and chris broke up almost a month ago because he felt that he didn’t love you enough, but you continued to be okay with each other due to you still being friends with nick and matt.
“oh yeah that’s fine with me,” nick says as matt just nods. you turn your head to look at chris, just for him to be staring at you already. “i don’t care” you say to him.
but in all honesty, you did care. knowing how quickly he moved on from you hurt like hell. you physically could not believe that he found a new girl so quickly after being together for 8 months.
chris’ tongue glides over his teeth as he looks at you and walks away. matt taps on your knee, you look over at him and he mouths, “you okay?” you smile at him and say, “of course.”
a few minutes pass by, all 4 of you guys were just sitting on the couch until you hear the door knock a few times. chris sat up enthusiastically and basically ran to the door. when the door opens you hear, “hi baby!” assumingely enough it was amelia.
she and chris walk up towards the couch and stand in the middle of the living room. “amelia this is nick, matt and y/n. guys this is amelia.” he says with a soft smile on his face.
you sat at the end of the couch and of course, chris and amelia sat on the other end which had a clear view of them both. perfect, you thought to yourself.
chris looks straight at you keeping eye contact. his hands go up to her hair that was perfectly tied in a bun, his fingers wrap around the black hair tie while he whispers something in her ear. chris pulls the hair tie off and lets her hair free.
you bite your tongue and watch in silence. you knew he was doing this to hurt you, to get a reaction out of you. chris used to let your hair down the same way, and now he’s doing it with her. you knew exactly how chris thought. you knew what he was thinking while doing that.
your eyes shift over to amelia, her big blue eyes, pouty glossed lips, healthy blonde hair. does she know you and chris are exes? does she know you and chris broke up a month ago? how could anybody hate her? she’s so beautiful and cool. but for some reason something in you makes you hate her.
as you stare at amelia in awe, chris stares at you. he sees the way your eyes are glossing, the way your lip starts trembling and the way you play with the rings on your fingers from anxiety. suddenly, you stand up quickly turning around and letting out the softest, “i’ll be back.”
reaching the bathroom with tears slowly falling down your blushed cheeks. you close the door shut, both hands find the edge of the cold counter. you lean down looking at the white colored sink. breathing starts to pick up, your chest begins to move up and down at a rapid pace.
you try to wipe the tears rolling down but they would not stop coming out. tears after tears, the door is knocked on. you turn around trying to calm down your breathing, but nothing is helping. your hand reaches the doorknob and twists it open.
on the other side of the door stood chris. he looks at you with worry and pushes the door open fully, letting himself in. immediately, your pulled into his chest. chris runs his hands through your hair, “shh it’s okay.” he says to you trying to calm you down. you breathe in deeply smelling his familiar cologne and start to match your breathing to his.
a few moments pass by and you guys are still in the same position. as you find your breathing and started to calm down, you push yourself away from chris, “please don’t do this now” you beg him.
“what? what do you mean?” he asks confused. “stop trying to act like we’re okay, especially after doing that in front of me,” you say feeling tears build up once again. “do what?”
you scoff in his face wiping your tears which most likely caused mascara to smear down, “bringing your new girl over then staring at me the entire time! you can’t just do that chris?!” you start to raise your voice feeling irritated.
chris stutters, “well..sorry.” he says very unsure with his own words. “just leave me alone christopher.” you say turning around and facing the mirror, but chris didn’t move, he just stayed there behind you. watching as you broke in pieces
a/n - sorry if this is really bad..i wrote this high off my mind at 3am 😭😭
#sturn5iolo#sturniolo angst#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#that’s so true#gracie abrams#sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader
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It Isn't Over
Lando Norris x Fem!Reader
*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: small amount of angst, minimal swearing, no use of y/n, short and honestly not that good
*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 900
*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: Lando regrets the everything that has happened between you. Part two to this: part one
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚
Lando had silently hoped your Instagram stories only served to make him jealous. Perhaps you simply wanted to show him what he had lost– of course that had been nothing but wishful thinking, having heard from a mutual friend that you were indeed seeing some guy. He stood at the door of your apartment, hand slightly raised as he debated whether he should knock or not.
“Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to knock?” the sound of your voice shaking him out of his thoughts.
He hadn’t seen you in months, you looked as radiant as ever, “I miss you,” he blurted out, voice slightly shaky as he reached a hand out towards you,“I made a mistake, a big one, I know I did. I lie awake every night thinking about it.”
He noticed your hesitance, he wasn’t a complete idiot when it came to reading people despite what you thought of him. “Why don’t you come in, have something to drink,” you sighed, digging through your purse, attempting to find your keys.
“Thank you,” he said softly, watching as you opened the door to your apartment, letting him in and closing the door behind you. He scanned the living room for any sign of your moving on, perhaps a coat left by your new lover or a picture of a sentimental moment hanging on the wall, but he found none. Instead he was greeted by the same living room he had come to know during the duration of your complicated friendship.
“I guess we have a lot to talk about,” you led him to your kitchen, hand shaking as you poured him a glass of water, “do you want anything else to drink?” he shook his head, taking a sip of water.
“I don’t know where to start,” he admits, nervously running a hand through his hair. He was nervous, something he had never been around you. Lando had always been a confident person, especially around you, this was new. “Are you seeing anyone?” he asks.
“What?” you were confused by the sudden question, it hadn’t been what you expected him to say, far from it. There wasn’t anything that could have come out of his mouth that would have been expected but this was certainly one of the least possible things you would expect. In fact, maybe, an apology would have been more appropriate than whatever he intended with that question.
“I think I’m in love with you, and if you’re seeing someone then it complicates things. I saw that guy on your instagram– but that doesn’t change how I feel,” he rambled out a confession, burying his face in his hands, tugging at his hair.
“You think?”
“I am, I am so in love with you. And I made the worst mistake of my life, I know that. I just need another chance,” he said, desperately pleading with you, his tone the most serious you had ever heard from him. It hurt you, it hurt to know that it had taken him years to realize this. His eyes never leaving your face, hoping to find any sort of reaction that would reveal that your feelings for him hadn’t changed despite his foul treatment.
“Lando…” you started. He hated the way you said his name, how soft your voice still sounded despite the evident pain. “You hurt me in many ways. It was as if you saw me as less than human, just something to satisfy whatever needs you had,” you felt tears start to well up in your eyes, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep calm. “And now you show up at my front door claiming to be in love with me? I find it all hard to believe.”
You remember one night that had been particularly hurtful– the night of your birthday. Lando had called you earlier that day, inviting himself over to your apartment. You had wishfully thought that he had remembered your birthday, despite the fact that he had yet to acknowledge it. When he had finally arrived that night you were not greeted with the words “Happy Birthday”. Instead he pushed his way into your home, kissing you and whispering against your skin about how much he needed you. It wasn’t until a week later that he had even noticed that your birthday had passed. So to say that you couldn’t believe Lando had truly changed was an understatement, but even so, you couldn’t bring yourself to forget about your feelings towards him.
“I’m not asking you to believe me. I'm asking you to give me another chance– an opportunity to prove to you that what I feel for you is real, that I truly do love you,” Lando took a step closer, his hand reaching out to brush away a stubborn tear that had made its way past the threshold of your eyes.
“One chance,” you whispered, letting your forehead rest against his.
“So you’re not seeing that guy you’ve been posting on your Instagram?”
“He’s my cousin,” you said with a small teary laugh, placing a kiss on his nose.
And maybe things would be different than they had been before. Maybe this time he wouldn’t ditch you at events for models who made you insecure or forget your birthday. This time he wouldn’t make you hate the way you looked. But only time would tell.
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Note: I had a lot I wanted to do for this but lost motivation and I didn't want to just scrap the whole fic so... yeah, I know its shit but I've had a rough month. Anyway, I just wanted to give the original a happy ending. My Decemeber shorts will be better (I hope), peace out
#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x y/n#f1 fic#f1 angst#f1 fluff#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 imagine#formula one angst#formula one fic#formula one fanfiction#formula one imagine#lando x you#lando x reader#lando norris x you
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comfort - kento nanami & yuji itadori
summary: yuji has a bad dream and is need of some comfort
warning: fluff, baby yuji, papamin, yuji has a nightmare, husband nanami
you stir awake to the sensation of your bedsheets being gently tugged away from you. nanami rests to your right, undisturbed and still sound asleep. turning your head to the left, you catch the reason why you’re woken up so early this morning.
beside you, your little bundle of energy that is yuji stirs. the toddler has a habit of sneaking into your room in the early hours, and this morning is no different. his tiny hands grip the edge of the bed as he tries to climb up, a soft whimper escaping him as he struggles to lift himself.
"yuji" you whisper, blinking sleepily as you sit up, your hand gently reaching down to help him. "what are you doing up so early?".
his big brown eyes peek up at you, melting your heart. "mommy" he says, his voice sweet and innocent. “bad dream”.
a tender smile tugs at your lips as you lift him into your lap, your hand gently smoothing down his messy hair. "oh, sweetheart" you say softly. "what was your dream about?".
"mm..." he pauses, his little brows furrowing as he thinks for a minute. "don’t ‘member” he mumbles before snuggling against your chest. "scary”.
you press a gentle kiss to his forehead, wrapping your arms protectively around him. "it’s okay, baby" you murmur, your voice warm and soothing. "you’re safe now”.
just as you’re about to settle back under the warmth of the covers, nanami stirs. he lets out a soft yawn, his eyes fluttering open as he glances over at you and yuji. a fond smile tugs at the corners of his lips.
“looks like someone needs their cuddle time” he murmurs, his voice still thick with sleep but filled with affection.
yuji lifts his head just enough to look at nanami, his big brown eyes lighting up with excitement. “daddy!” he exclaims, his voice high-pitched with joy.
“good morning, little one” nanami greets, his voice warmer now as he props himself up on one elbow. he extends his hand to yuji, inviting him over with an expression so soft it makes your heart flutter. without hesitation, yuji crawls over, clumsily climbing into nanami’s arms.
nanami chuckles, the sound low and comforting, and wraps his arms securely around his son. presses playful kisses to yuji’s chubby cheeks, one after another. yuji squirms, his laughter bubbling over, his tiny hands pushing weakly at nanami’s shoulders. “daddy, stop! tickles!”.
you watch with a tender smile. the way nanami holds yuji, with such care and love, is enough to make you fall in love with him all over again.
as the giggles begin to subside, you lean back against the pillows and gently pull yuji toward the space between you. nanami shifts over, wrapping his arm around both of you.
nestled securely between you and nanami, yuji lets out a little sigh, his earlier restlessness replaced by calm. his heavy eyelids flutter a few times before finally closing, and his little body relaxes into the warmth and safety of your presence. the fear of his nightmare is long gone, replaced by the peace of knowing he is surrounded by love.
for a while, you and nanami remain awake, watching over him to make sure he doesn't get restless. nanami’s hand finds yours, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles as you exchange a smile. there’s no need for words—everything you feel is already understood.
before long, you fall back asleep, cuddling your son between you.
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a/n: thank you for reading!! <3
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Drive me home | Simon "Ghost" Riley | 8
fem!reader | In this story, a young woman mistakenly texts Simon "Ghost" Riley, thinking he's her Uber driver after a wild night out. Despite his gruff, reserved nature, Simon shows up. This part does not contain texts! Start reading from the beginning: Part 1
The ride to her house was quiet.
Not the quiet that leaves you unsettled, no. It was the kind that fills the air with unspoken truths, with glances exchanged and withheld words that echoed louder than any sound could.
Their eyes met once, twice... more than that. Each time, his gaze lingered just a second longer than it should have. And hers? Hers did the same.
Simon pressed his hands together, squeezing them into fists so tight he could feel the strain in his knuckles. A faint tremor shot up his palm, almost like a jolt of electricity. His body betraying the control he worked so hard to keep.
Fucking nervous, aren’t you, Riley?
It shouldn’t be like this. None of it should be. He’d been here before, hadn’t he? A few women. A few beds. A few nights.
But why does this feel different?
Her. She was the difference.
There was something about her, something he couldn’t define, couldn’t pin down. Something that pulled him in and ripped apart every defense he’d built over decades. He couldn’t look at her too long without feeling that pull, couldn’t hear her laugh without that burn in his chest igniting again.
He let himself think, just for a second, about what came next. About what would happen when they stepped inside her house, when the air shifted from unspoken tension to something tangible, something raw.
Would she invite him in? Would she want him there? Want him the way he wanted her?
God, Riley, you’re acting like a fucking teenager.
But then, his thoughts veered into uncharted territory. Past the heat, past the urgency, to something softer. To the aftermath—their breaths slowing, the room cooling. To her lying beside him, her hair spilled out on the pillow, her hand reaching for his.
Would she ask him to stay?
Stay, Riley? You don’t stay.
But he wanted to. For the first time, the thought of leaving twisted something deep in his gut.
And then came the doubt, creeping in like it always did.
Was she really going to let him in? Did she really want him? A man like him—older, broken, scarred in ways she hadn’t even begun to see. Did she know what she was doing? Reaching out to someone like him?
Inadequate.
That’s what he was. A man inadequate to this. To her. To the way she made him feel.
But still, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting it all.
The air was too sharp, biting against their skin as they stepped out of the Uber. It clung to them, sinking into the silence, as if the night itself held its breath.
She reached for her keys, fingers fumbling in a way that made her curse under her breath. He stood behind her, his boots scraping against the gravel.
When the car pulled away, the street swallowed them whole.
She stepped inside, the keys jingling in her hand as she flicked on the lights. Her heart was racing, an uncontrollable rhythm that almost drowned out the sound of her own voice.
And she left the door open.
Left it open for him.
"Aren’t you coming in?" Her voice carried through the space, louder than she intended, the kind of loud that tried to mask the nerves clawing at her chest.
The sound of her keys landing on the table followed, a small clatter against the quiet.
He stood there, unmoving, the cold air wrapping around him like a vice. Then, a step.
Another.
What the hell is happening to me?
His mind raced, a mess of contradictions and uncertainties. Why was he losing himself over this woman? This maddeningly young, unpredictable, vibrant woman? She was like nothing he should be tangled with—and yet here he was, walking into her space, letting her pull him in like a moth to a flame.
The smell hit him like a punch.
It wasn’t just her perfume or the faint traces of shampoo in her hair. It was her—her home. The clothes tossed carelessly on the couch. A coffee mug abandoned on the table, still half-full.
It was alive. Lived in. Hers.
She could feel his eyes on her. Heavy, focused, lingering on everything she did. The way she rushed to grab the coffee cup from the table and carried it to the kitchen. The way she shifted, half-heartedly trying to block his view of the pile of clothes on the couch with her body.
Her smile was awkward, forced, but fuck, it was endearing.
"So, uh, another cup? I have some wine. I mean, I like wine, not in an unhealthy way or anything, not like I drink every night. Well, okay, twice in front of you, but that’s not—"
"You get talkative when you’re drunk," he interrupted, his voice low, steady, like it always was. Then, softer, with the smallest hint of a smirk: "Or are you always this... bright?"
She froze, the word hanging in the air between them.
"Bright?" she echoed, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Is that just a polite way of calling me loud?"
He stepped closer, just a little, his eyes unyielding, pulling hers into his orbit.
"No," he said, shaking his head lightly. "I don’t like loud. But I like you, so you’re not loud."
Her lips parted slightly, caught somewhere between a laugh and a breath she couldn’t quite take.
Oh, shit.
Hell.
Fuck.
Every curse word she could think of rattled in her mind, each one failing to capture the way her chest felt—full to the point of bursting. Like her heart was going to explode right there in front of him, leaving a ridiculous mess of butterflies and stupid little cartoon hearts scattered all over the room.
"Are you flirting with me just to escape that wine, huh?" she joked, her voice barely steady, a desperate attempt to lighten the air crackling between them.
And then he did it again. That thing he did.
His head tilted back just slightly, his eyes steady and sharp on hers, his lips pressing together before curling into that maddeningly subtle side-smile. Barely there, but enough to make her knees weak.
"Maybe not just for that."
Her brain short-circuited. Her heart stopped. Or sped up. Or maybe both. She couldn’t tell anymore.
"Second intentions now?" she managed, her voice climbing an octave as she fought to keep her composure.
Yes. That was good. Tease him. Keep the upper hand. Don’t you dare melt—
"Hm," he murmured, his voice deep, gravelly, dripping with that dangerous calm he carried so well. His gaze dropped, just for a second, to her lips. "And some more."
That was it.
That was the moment she died. Right there. Gone. End credits rolling. Goodbye.
Her breath caught in her throat, her body betraying her with a shiver she couldn’t suppress.
He saw it.
He felt it.
The way she melted right in front of him, her eyes wide and bright, her body leaning into the pull of him like gravity itself was shifting between them.
It did something to him.
No, she did something to him.
Something he couldn’t name, couldn’t control.
And for the first time in years—hell, maybe for the first time in his life—he let it happen.
His body surrendered, inch by inch, to the magnetic force pulling him toward her, and he didn’t care if it consumed him whole.
That little doubt from earlier—the lingering what’s next?—had died a long time ago.
It had evaporated the moment the wine settled in his system, the moment he became fully aware of how alone they were, how quiet the house was, how it was just him and her in this small, warm space.
It had died the moment he noticed her watching him like she was waiting for something. For him.
He took a step closer. Then another.
Her breathing quickened, and he saw it—the way she stilled, her body tense but not pulling back, her lips parting slightly as if the air between them had gotten too heavy.
She felt small. Like a little prey animal frozen under the shadow of a predator. Nervous, fidgety. But she wasn’t moving away.
"So you don’t want anything?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, cracking at the edges.
He tilted his head, studying her, letting the silence stretch just long enough for her to feel it crawl down her spine.
"I do," he said, his voice low, deliberate.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "... A drink, I mean."
And then—oh god—he chuckled.
An actual laugh left his lips, soft and deep, rumbling through the space between them.
"No, sweetheart," he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers.
Her brain short-circuited.
AGAIN.
Fuck fuck fuck.
Wait. Wait. She wasn’t ready. No, maybe she was. No, she wasn’t. Or was she?
"I—uh—excuse me for a moment," she stammered, her words coming too fast, too messy. "I just need to go—"
To go where?
To check if she’d shaved? To look in the mirror and see if she looked okay? To remember what underwear she’d put on?
None of that mattered because she wasn’t going anywhere.
His tall, broad frame moved closer, closing the space between them until he was just inches away.
His eyes—god, his eyes—were locked on her with an intensity that made her stomach flip, her knees weak.
"Wait," she blurted, her voice a rushed mess. "Was this the wine? Is this why you ‘don’t handle it well’?"
His lips quirked into a small, almost amused smile.
"That’s one way to say it."
Her breath hitched. Her heart pounded against her ribs as his presence wrapped around her like a second skin.
She wasn’t going anywhere. Not now. Not when his entire body was leaning into hers, his heat, his scent, his everything pulling her under like a tide she didn’t want to escape.
Simon hadn't told her his age, not his story, not his intentions. Not even his last name.
He was a mystery, a locked box, and yet...
There was no rope to climb up here, no anchor to hold onto. There was just this. This big, electric, and intense thing that settled between them, threading through every stolen glance, every lingering moment of silence.
Waves of purple, waves of blue, crashing and coursing through her veins every time he stared at her. Every time his brows furrowed in thought, every time his lips made the slightest movement, like he was holding back a secret he refused to share.
And then, there it was again. Intense.
When his hand reached for hers, it wasn't what she'd expected. A man like him—so big, so strong, so stoic—shouldn’t have been capable of touching her like that.
Gentle. Purposeful.
His fingers curled around hers, and for a moment, the world stopped spinning.
She didn’t even realize she’d been holding her breath until he looked down, where their hands met, like he couldn’t believe what he was doing either.
And yet, it didn’t feel like he wanted to pull away.
It hit her then—hard. That little (no, enormous) feeling in her chest, something stirring in the hollow point she hadn’t even realized existed.
It wasn’t his eyes or his lips or his body leaning closer that made her feel like she was coming undone.
It was this. Him holding her hand.
It was intense in a way sex wasn’t supposed to be. Intimate in a way it shouldn’t have been for someone who, she thought, just wanted a physical moment.
But it wasn’t just physical, was it?
It was something else. Something raw, unspoken, and terrifying. Something that made the hollow ache in her chest feel full for the first time in what felt like forever.
"Are you going to kiss me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling at the edges like a fragile thread.
Her eyes—wide, searching—locked onto his, meeting brown, the heat of her stare refusing to back down, though it screamed vulnerability.
Are you, Riley?
Want to kiss the girl, do you?
Want to feel her lips, want to know she wants it, too?
No.
No, that wasn’t it.
He didn’t just want to kiss her.
It was awful, this craving, this ache, this yearn that clawed at him from the inside. This primal need for more, for something deeper, something that wasn’t fleeting or shallow.
It wasn’t just her lips he wanted to taste.
It was her. All of her.
And not just tonight. Not just in the haze of wine and electric stares. No, this was worse than that.
It was the want for the start of something. For safety in her presence, for the kind of silence that wasn’t suffocating but soothing. For the comfort of knowing she was there, even in the quiet moments.
For a future.
The word alone twisted in his chest, heavy and unfamiliar.
His gaze traced her in silence, betraying him as it lingered on the curve of her smile, the slope of her shoulders, the tremble in her fingers as they hovered near her sides.
Her eyes. Her legs.
Her laugh, her touch, her very existence.
Everything about her was a piece of something bigger, something to pick apart, to examine, to memorize.
And it crushed him.
That want, that need, set a weight on his chest so deep, so dark, it made it hard to breathe.
So fucking terrifying.
Her question lingered in the air between them, but all he could do was look at her like she was something precious he couldn’t risk breaking.
"Simon?" she whispered, tilting her head just enough to pull him from his thoughts.
He blinked, his jaw tightening as he inhaled sharply, the weight pressing deeper.
His voice came out low, rough.
"I don’t think I can stop at just a kiss."
The start of something.
This was it.
She knew it.
Even if he tore her heart into a thousand jagged, unrecognizable pieces, she knew. She wouldn’t be able to forget the rasp in his voice, the distinct smell of his truck—a sharp mix of faint cigars and worn-in cologne. She wouldn’t stop turning her head every time she saw another man in a hoodie, a cap, or a face mask, hoping, wishing, aching for it to be him.
Simon Riley had intoxicated her life, his presence laced with something she couldn’t purge, no matter how hard she tried.
It wasn’t romantic; it was corrosive.
And God, she wanted more.
"Why would you even think about stopping?" she whispered, voice barely holding steady as her gaze dropped to their still-entwined hands.
His thumb moved in slow circles against her skin.
How could a man whose hands had likely done unspeakable things—taken lives, committed horrors she couldn’t begin to comprehend—touch her so gently?
"Few things come to mind," he muttered, his tone gruff, guarded, but his touch never faltered.
"But you're not telling me," she teased, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
Fuck.
Fuuuck, Riley.
He didn’t know what to do with that smile. It was dangerous. It unraveled him, stripped him bare.
When she laughed. When she smiled. When she breathed.
When she looked at him with those eyes, wide and filled with something fragile and trusting that he didn’t fucking deserve.
"It’d be easier to disappear," he admitted softly, his voice dropping lower. The words weren’t meant for her ears, but they slipped out anyway, betraying him.
Her head tilted slightly, her brow furrowing as if to question him, but he stopped her with his next words.
"I’m not tellin’ you anything that might push ya away."
Because he felt it.
The sinking ship they were on. He felt every creak and groan, every crack in the hull as they both willingly dragged it underwater.
And the worst part?
She didn’t.
She hadn’t noticed the weight pulling them down. Not yet.
But he had. And instead of running, instead of diving overboard, he stayed.
Because he was no good. He’d never been any good.
And he wasn’t starting now.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this, but I really wanted to post a new chapter heh. Whatever, I’m being exploited at work (kidding… well, maybe not… help).
TAG LIST: @sleep101 @all-by-myself98 @h0ney-mushroom @beelzebee @momowhoo @sheepdogchick3
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#cod modern warfare#ghost fanfiction#cod headcanons#fanfic#my writing#ao3#ghost cod#fem reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost
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would you do single dad eddie munson x reader and eddie is a little older than reader and eddie’s look for a baby sitter to look after his baby and reader is the baby sitter and at the end eddie and the reader end up togetherr? thank you 💗💗
When you saw the ad in the paper, you didn't really think anything of it as you just needed a job, but the second your eyes laid on Eddie, you knew you were done for. He was wearing his signature leather jacket, his hair was just the right amount of messy, and he had those beautiful brown eyes that you swore you could fall into.
"Hey," he greeted with a smile. "Come on in," he opened the door wide for you and you stepped inside, trying your best not to stare at him any longer.
"Nice to see you again," he said and nodded his head towards the living room where his daughter was lying in her portable crib. He picked her up and when you caught a glimpse of her face, you could definitely seen the resemblance between her and Eddie.
"you know Evie," he said, and the way he looked at her, you could tell just how much he loved her.
"Hi, Evie," you gave her a little wave and were so distracted by how much they looked alike even though you had already saw the resemblance when you met them for the first time a couple of weeks ago. Her eyes were just as brown as his were with a little glint in them and her smile mimicked his perfectly. You wondered how much she would look like him when she grew up.
“Do you want to hold her?" He asked, slowly handing her over to you and you hesitantly reach up to take her, noticing that she's reaching for you.
"S-sure," you nod and take her into your arms, noticing how quick she is to rest her head on your shoulder. Eddie stares at the two of you with a smirk and you feel your cheeks heat.
"She really likes you," he says knowingly. "I've cycled through so many sitters since I got custody of her and I don't think I've ever seen her take to any of them like she has to you."
"Really?" You ask, trying your best to look at her out of the corner of your eye.
"Yeah, you guys look real cozy," he nods then leans forward to kiss Evie's head. "Have a good night."
"You too."
With that, Eddie fled the house and you were left alone with Evie. You put her back in the crib so she could sleep then headed into the kitchen where Eddie had left a pizza for you. You happily help yourself, grabbing a plate from where you remembered seeing them when he had given you a tour when he had invited you over the first time. You then went back into the living room and turned on the TV and watched it while you waited for Eddie to get home. All in all, it wasn't a bad night.
You had been watching Evie every single week for a few months and over time, you and Eddie had been getting closer and closer. You could tell he was into you, but weren't sure how to go about it. He was technically your boss and you were scared that things were going to change between the two of you for the worse and you really didn't want to lose Eddie or your job.
You decided one night while he was out that you were going to take the chance and tell him how you felt. If he wasn't into it, you would back off and apologize for reading too much into your relationship and because you just couldn't work for him after being rejected like that, you'd have to quit and you really didn't want to.
Eddie walked through the door and you felt your heart race in your chest as you put Evie into her crib for the night then hurried out into the living room where you got there just in time to see Eddie collapse onto the couch with a sigh.
You took a deep breath and sat next to him, your heart now pounding and you were afraid that he could hear it. He turned to you, the TV glowing on the side of his face that was closest to it. He just looked so...pretty. And it was devastating.
"What are you thinking about?"
He knew you well and now that you were close, it was getting harder to hide things from him. So you supposed it was time to just come out with it.
"I need to tell you something."
"Shoot." He was fully facing you and you were even more nervous.
"I like you," you blurted and his eyes widened, but you weren't sure whether it's because of how loud your voice was or because of your words. But then he grinned and it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.
"I like you too," he replied with a nod, his hair moving as he did so.
"Maybe I should repeat myself," you said. "I like you."
"And I like you too," he replied, using the same tone. "Will this convince you that I understand?" He asked as his hand moved to rest on your knee as he scooted closer so that your thighs were touching.
All you can do is nod and you notice that he's leaning closer to you and you can't help but do the same. His other hand rested on your cheek and his lips touch yours. Slowly at first, but then you were both so into it, trying to get as close to each other as you possibly could with the way you were sitting.
And just as soon as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, Evie begins to cry and Eddie was quick to tend to her but not before pressing his lips to yours again before hurrying down the hall to take care of his daughter.
As you waited for him to get back, you sat there, chewing on your bottom lip, noticing that it tasted whatever lip balm Eddie had been wearing. And when he comes back into the living room with the baby sleeping with her hear head on his shoulder and sits next to you, you decide there's no other place you'd rather be than there.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson smut
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The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter Fourteen
available on AO3 and Quotev | visit the first tag for other chapters | warnings: profanity, death threats (?)
summary:
In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.
Chapter Fourteen:
You peeled your eyelids open. They felt practically glued shut as you eased Allison off of your lap- you felt feverishly hot, clothes sticking to your skin uncomfortably as you got up to take a much-needed shower.
Allison woke up too, blinking. She looked fully rested. Regretting your lack of sleep, you disappeared into your bedroom to get ready for the day.
By the time you were done Allison had disappeared from the office and a man was sweeping up the glass from the carpet. You nodded at him as you put your hand on the doorknob, opening the door to reveal a veil of golden beaded strings.
“Leave even a single piece and I’ll cut your head off,” you said casually as you stepped through the curtain. He looked up at you nervously.
“Yes, Madam.”
You entered the lobby. You stepped out of the large, curved entrance you had for your office, turning around to see the rosy, warm, inviting interior before walking across the lush carpet of the front lobby, going for the stairs. The door opened and the familiar heavy frame of Sevika walked in.
“[name],” she said breathlessly, stepping forward towards you. “Silco told me about the deal. The-“
You walked straight past her.
You could feel her eyes burning onto your back as you stalked up the stairs, not sparing her another glance. Reaching the landing you leaned against the railing, taking a peek downstairs. You could just see the edge of Sevika’s boot, before she moved past the foot of the stairs to duck into a hallway. Another pair of feet followed her.
You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself off of your leaning position, going down the hallway. You eventually reached the room you’d put Allison and her friend in, rapping your knuckles twice on the door.
The door opened to reveal the little girl, hair straight and black and dark. She looked up at you, shadows under her eyes, and panic flitted across her face.
“Madam,” she said quickly.
You didn’t bother with greetings or formalities. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”
She looked at you, as if she was wondering which answer would get her head chopped off and which answer would get her a pat on the back. You continued:
“I don’t like little girls who lie.”
“I haven’t,” she admitted.
“Why not?”
“Sleep terrors.” You stepped into her room as she opened the door a little wider.
The place was sparse, with two bunk beds, a light and a rug. There was a tiny sack dumped in the corner, very few belongings spilling onto the hard wood.
You clicked your tongue, hands behind your back as you slowly turned, surveying the room. At least the beds were made, you noticed. The children were neat.
“What do you need?”
The girl looked up at you nervously. “Wh-what?”
“A shelf,” you remarked, looking at the empty space on the walls. “Would you like a desk? Can you read or write?”
She nodded silently.
“After I get you the basic components, this room is free for you to personalise as you wish.” With a twirl of your hand, you produced a small pin in between your fingers. “I need you measured for some new clothes too.” You crouched down to her level. “After that, you do whatever you want as long as you don’t get yourself in trouble. We give our people freedom here.”
“Does this place have a name?”
You stared at her sallow face, taken off guard by the question, then brushed aside her hair. “I’m not sure yet. All these years, and we’ve never had a name.” People usually called it the brothel. What did you have in mind?”
“The House.”
You laughed. “It’s quite boring for someplace as glamorous as this, don’t you think?” You eased the pin into her hair. “Here. This pin will mark you as a member of, er… this place.”
She ghosted her little fingers over it. “The Haven.”
You licked your lips, turning the name over in your head. “That’s… where did you learn a word like that?”
“I met a girl who told me about this place. She said it was a haven for people who were running away. I never knew what it meant.”
You hummed, then straightened up. “That’s a great name.”
“Thank you,” she said bashfully, shuffling her feet. Without another word you left through the door, hurrying down the stairs and back to your office.
You had barely made it to the beads before you heard your name again. You groaned, turning around to face Sevika.
“What do you want?”
“Five favours, huh?”
“I’ll call on you five times, and you will do whatever I tell you to without question.”
She laughed. “Or what? What if I don’t?” She took a step towards you. “You think you can just make me?”
You shrugged, clasping your hands together, the image of piety. “If you want to kill Donna, be my guest.”
She froze. “What?”
“What?” You batted your lashes at her innocently, beginning to circle her. She turned, eyes tracking your every move. “Is there something wrong?”
“What do you mean, kill Donna,” she hissed. You stopped walking, and turned to look at her abruptly.
“I mean, if you don’t follow the rules of the deal, Donna dies. It’s simple, really.”
You could see her clench her jaw. “Well, I wasn’t planning on disobeying anyways.”
“I’m sure you weren’t.” Your voice was smooth.
“I was just testing to see your reaction.”
“I’m sure you were.”
“I thought you were supposed to be a good person, [name]?”
You smiled thinly. “That’s far too much credit than what’s due. What ever gave you that idea?”
She stared at you disbelievingly. “You take in people in need. What else is there to say?”
You raised a finger. “One could say I exploit people in need. Sure, I exploit them with a strict moral code, but I’m using them nonetheless. It’s purely transactional. I know they need me, and I take advantage of it.” You shrugged. “Don’t go getting excited, now.”
“[name], if anything happens to Donna…” Sevika’s voice was a growl. You crossed your arms, sweeping a languid hand over your chin.
“Well, her performance has been quite lacklustre lately…” you snickered at her expression.
“I’ll fucking kill you with my own two hands.”
“I doubt you’d want to suffer the consequences of that.” Your eyes flicked to her cloaked shoulder. “No one would like it if you killed me with your one, single hand.”
Sevika stared at you, breathing heavily. Agitated. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“Anything to get a rise out of my adversaries-“
She grabbed your shoulder, fingertips digging into your skin. You clicked your tongue, irritated.
“Ah- ah- ah. Don’t go assaulting me,” you gasped, scandalised. You drew your face close to hers, grinning. She scowled at you. Your eyes flicked to the corner.
There were about ten people standing in the corner, completely frozen from whatever they were doing. They all stared at Sevika unblinkingly. A silent warning.
“That’s creepy,” she muttered.
“I know,” you said gleefully. She released your shoulder and you stumbled back.
“Since when are we your adversaries?” She snarled. “We just struck a successful deal, for fucks sake. On amicable terms.”
I threw a knife at your boss. What part of that is amicable?
You scowled. “He will never be able to consider me an ally after the way he did me wrong, understood?” You stormed forward, jabbing a finger into her chest. “On my dead body will I help you sewer rats for anything that doesn’t involve my gain.”
“And what’s your gain?” Sevika whispered, voice scathing. You smiled widely, eyes glinting.
“His loss.”
-
“We need to expand.”
There was a map rolled out across the dark wood of your desk. You tapped a carefully manicured finger onto a specific spot in the undercity. Donna leaned over, inspecting the map with her sharp eyes. You drew slow circles on the spot and tapped it again. Allison was sitting on the sofa, watching you both with childlike interest.
“There’s too many people seeking asylum. We don’t have enough space.” You waved your hand to the ceiling. “Despite this place being massive, we need more.”
Donna propped herself up on her elbows, eyes tracing the river drawn on the map. “What’s that place?” She looked at where your finger was touching.
“It’s an old property that just got abandoned. Used to be a factory. The owner died to enforcers after he refused to give it up.”
“Why’d they make him give it up?”
“No idea. Probably because it wasn’t ’up to code,’ what they always say.” You bent over the table, eyes glinting. “They just don’t want Zaun to progress. To get more powerful.” Your voice was a dangerous hiss.
“How would one factory change that?”
Your eyes went from narrowed to normal and your muscles relaxed. “You’d be surprised.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “The enforcers just left after they finished moving all the stuff out yesterday night. The place is up for grabs.”
“Who’s to say we’ll get there on time? Before anyone else does?”
“I am,” you said firmly. “Send a team out, now, and set up something there. Spray our insignia on the front so no one dares to take it.”
So that was the plan. Take the factory, occupy it, and set it up. Of course you’d still run operations from the brothel- the Haven- but you could have it used as accommodation and more.
Donna was looking up at you with something akin to admiration in her eyes. You gave her a small, thin smile. You quite liked the girl.
You really hoped Sevika wouldn’t make you have to kill her.
#THE DEVIL MADE ME DO IT -SILCO X FEM!READER#THE DEVIL MADE ME DO IT- SILCO X FEM!READER -CHAPTER FOURTEEN#arcane league of legends#arcane#arcane fanfic#arcane season 2 spoilers#arcane x reader#arcane s2#arcane meta#arcane season 2#arcane s2 spoilers#arcane fanfiction#arcane spoilers#arcane season two#arcane fic#arcane smut#arcane headcanon#arcane x you#arcane x y/n#arcane x female reader#arcane x gender neutral reader#silco fanart#silco arcane#silco x reader#silco and jinx#silco fanfic#vander#felicia arcane#powder#jinx
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Roys been helping his sister raise Phoebe for the little girls entire life. He’s lost count of how many times he’s woken up to the little gremlin standing beside his bed, or even creepier standing in the doorway, the faint light of the lamp he leaves on in the hallway for her eerily glowing behind her.
He’s used to it.
So when he wakes up to a faint knock and his bedroom door opening with a slow creak it’s muscle memory that has him shuffling over in bed and flinging back his quilt before he’s even cracked open his heavy eyes.
“Roy?”
The voice makes Roy jolt awake. It’s deeper, even in a soft whisper, but more than that is the tremble in the single word. The hesitation, the fear has Roy sitting up blinking against the familiar glow of the hall light.
Except this time he hadn’t turned it on for his niece, she was safe at home tucked into her own bed.
And yet he’d hesitated at the light switch after seeing his player safely to bed in the guest room. Something inside him making him flip the light on, almost as if he knew this moment would come.
“Jamie” Roy grunts his voice heavy with sleep “you okay?”
He looks so young standing in the doorway of Roy’s bedroom, wringing his hands nervously, his shoulders hunched in way that makes Roy frown at him, knowing it must be aggravating the bruised ribs that lay hidden beneath the borrowed hoodie the young man is wearing.
“Dunno” Jamie mutters nervously. “Sorry-I-I dunno what I’m doing…I’ll just…” he takes a step back, stumbling into the door.
“Jamie” Roy calls sitting up straighter reaching out to pull the quilt back further in silent invitation.
Jamies eyes widen at the gesture, looking over at Roy longingly but he doesn’t move. His hands drift under his hoodie, pulling the black material taunt as he fidgets anxiously.
Roy can’t help the tired sigh that slips out. Regrets floods through him as Jamie flinches back at the sound and Roy silently berates himself.
“It’s okay” he encourages tiredly patting the empty space beside him “I won’t fucking bite, let’s just get some sleep yeah?”
He watches as Jamie fights with himself but after a moment he clearly makes his choice as he slowly moves forward towards the bed.
“Sorry” Jamie whispers as he carefully crawls into Roy’s bed. Roy immediately notes that he’s trembling almost violently “M’ being fuckin’ stupid…just…I heard a car door slam and I dunno…” his voice drops as his unconsciously sinks closer to Roy “I got scared…S’ stupid”
“It’s not fucking stupid” Roy grunts laying back down, shifting onto his side so he can look at Jamie in the dim moonlight. “It’s completely fucking understandable after the shit day you’ve had”
Jamie makes a small noise of acknowledgment but he doesn’t relax.
“Do you think you can go back to sleep?”
Jamie hesitates, the trembling picking back up a little “dunno” he almost whimpers. “I…I dunno”
It’s too much. Jamie’s scared and shaking, covered in bruises and all Roy can think of is how he’d flinched at every sudden movement that night, every sound.
The thing is, Roys been helping his sister raise Phoebe for the little girls entire life. He’s lost count of how many times he’s wiped away tears, or soothed nightmares. And while Jamie’s not Roy’s nine year old niece, he is a scared kid and Roy can’t just pretend Jamie’s not crying next to him and go back to sleep.
He shifts closer to Jamie. Slowly, and cautiously being careful not to startle him “don’t fucking laugh at me” he warns lightly “but do you want a cuddle?”
#ted lasso#jamie tartt#roy kent#afc richmond#drabble#I don’t even know what this is#I woke up at 4am and wrote this#🤷🏻♀️
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Marks of Love
Davrin x f!Rook (unnamed)
summary: after a night of too many drinks, Davrin finds Assan covered in kisses.
yes this is based off of that one meme of that girl who came home drunk and was really excited to see her cat
Davrin wakes one day with a headache and little recollection as to how he ended up in bed.
He remembers Lucanis inviting him and Rook to talk about old jobs again over a shared bottle. or 3. Honestly it could’ve been more he just couldn’t remember. After that it’s all a blur. He’s surprised he made it to bed in the first place.
With a groan he stands from his bed, wincing as he faces the open brightness of the fade. Moving sluggishly to throw on a shirt and pants before yawning and making his way to open the door of his room.
“Assan,” he calls out to the griffin sitting his usual spot. The wooden stairs creaking under his steps.
When Assan turns his head to look at him, it makes Davrin pause midstep, “what in the…”
There were specks of red dotted across Assan’s face, two on his beak, a couple on the sides of his face, even more across his forehead and the top of his head.
Davrin steps closer to get a closer look at the griffin’s face, “what happened to you buddy?” he asks softly, still struggling to fight off the last remnants of sleep. He had a number of ideas of what the marks could be, maybe the griffin snuck into the pantry to snack on berries again, or maybe he got into Emmrich’s inks.
Assan squawks as Davrin squats down to take his face in his hands, his eyes widening in realization. The spots were a very similar shade of berry red, in the shape of lips he’s grown to know all too well.
Davrin huffs out a laugh and hangs his head, “someone got some love last night.” Davrin muses, Assan only replies with a happy noise and a flap of his wings.
“Davrin,” he hears a familiar voice call. He looks up and sure enough there she is, just leaving the light house and making her way towards him. wearing the exact same shade on her lips that decorated Assan’s feathers.
“Rook,” Davrin greets, letting go of Assan’s face and standing “seems you got a bit excited to see Assan last night.”
To be fair, Rook always got excited seeing Assan, always showering him in hugs and pets whenever she walked by him. Though it seemed that alcohol released her from whatever she was holding back when it came to giving Assan affection.
“What do you- oh…” Rook pauses when she takes in the sight of Assan littered in kisses, her eyes move up to look at Davrin and he raises an eyebrow when he sees an obvious flustered look take over her features.
“Something wrong?” Davrin asks
Rook goes to speak but is cut off when the both of them hear the familiar clank of Neve’s prosthetic hitting the stone ground, “well good morning you three, have fun gossiping over your alcohol?”
Before either of them can answer, Neve takes in the scene before her and an amused smile crosses her face, “my my, just what were you two up to last night?”
Rook looks away flustered and Davrin’s confusion only grows, “what are you talking about?”
Neve smiles innocently, “nothing, I just think it’s adorable how similar you and Assan can look sometimes.”
Neve begins walking away towards the kitchen and Davrin can only furrow his eyebrows at her comment, “similar?” he turns to look down at assan again, “what are you even…” he trails off, his eyes landing on the splotches of lipstick sticking to Assan’s feathers as a look of realization crosses his face.
Suddenly he remembers drunken giggles as him and Rook leave the dining room, a cooed, “Assan!” followed by a shocked squawk and exaggerated kissing sounds.
He remembers leading Rook to her room, her turning towards him and reaching for his face, the sight of her lips moving towards him.
Slowly, Davrin reaches a hand up to his cheek, swiping at it before moving his hand back into view.
Sure enough, his fingertips were smudged with the very same berry red that covered both Assan and Rook’s lips.
“Looks like someone was also excited to see me last night.” Davrin hums with a hint of amusement.
Rook lets out a flustered laugh, her gaze still on the ground, “is it bad that I don’t even remember?”
Davrin chuckles and shakes his head, taking a step closer to room before placing a finger under her chin to make her meet his gaze. Rook lets out a surprised noise as Davrin leans down to press a kiss to her lips.
Just as quickly he pulls away, a new coat of her red lipstick smudged against his lips, “I think you ought to help us clean us you mess hmm?”
Assan squawks loudly from beside the two and Rook laughs, leaning her head against Davrin’s shoulder, “I suppose it’s only fair.”
#dragon age fanfiction#dragon age#dragon age the veilguard#datv#datv fanfic#da4#davrin#da veilguard#davrin x rook#davrin fanfic#davrin fanfiction#davrin dragon age#davrin datv
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can you do dallas winston x soc reader where she invites him over to her house and it’s super pink and girly and he wants to look at every little thing! love you’re work btw!
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ Pretty in Pink . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
Warnings - Pure fluff. Established relationship between a soc!fem!reader and Dallas Winston.
Summary - If it were up to him, he would never leave your room ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
Author’s Note - Thank you so much for this request!!! I’m truly so happy to hear you love my writings, it means the world to me 🫶🏼. I sort of took ‘house’ and turned it into bedroom, so I hope this is still okay skhfhsjjs 😭. I had a lot of fun with this one, I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do!! 🩷🩷
Word Count - 1.1k.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
Applying a thin layer of tinted gloss, you puckered up and smiled upon the reflection in your vanity mirror. The white, wooden piece blended with the rest of your room perfectly as it leaned against the floral wallpaper adorned in patterns of pink peonies. Pink - you were certain there wasn’t a color as perfect as the pastel hue that flooded your room. As a finishing touch, you doused the sides of your neck in a fancy perfume, one that cost a fortune. The bottle was, of course, a baby-pink heart with a white ribbon tied around it. You felt ready to take on the world.
Leaned against the windowsill of your bedroom, your eyes longed to catch a glimpse of that rusted, old Thunderbird that Dallas typically took you around the city in. You could hear it a mile away, the noisy vroom of the vehicle, and the screeching shrill of its breaks. The stars cast a beam of light against the pavement to your driveway, ensuring he’d find his way there eventually.
Although you loved him to death, this boy had never spent a second in this house past your doorway. Tonight was different - he wasn’t dropping off flowers, knocking on your door to shower you in drunken kisses, or even luring you into his car to sneak out for the night. He was staying over. In your bed. Staying in your girly bedroom. Just at first glance, it was clear Dallas was no softie. He didn’t care for frilly pink bows or dainty jewelry, he was as masculine as they came. A hint of nervousness formed at the pit of your stomach as your brain worked double-time to map out every negative outcome possible. Maybe he wouldn’t like it, it would be too overwhelming - the possibilities were endless.
Just as these thoughts began to overwhelm you, the repetitive ring of your doorbell brought you back to reality. He was here. You raced for the front door without a second thought, leaping down the staircase, taking two steps at a time. Once you had reached the door, you flung it open with excitement, only to wrap your arms around his figure. He wore a cocky grin, a classic expression he often used in moments like these. You felt the jerk of his body as he stifled a laugh. “I saw you yesterday,” he commented wittily, slowly running a hand up and down your back.
You stood on the tip of your toes, planting a kiss on his cheek. Without waiting a second longer, you snatched the boy inside with a simple yank to his arm. “Come on, get out the cold, Dal,” you teased.
Dallas glanced down at his boots, giving them a quick stomp or two before taking a look around. “So this is your little mansion, huh?”
“Mansion,” you scoffed in reply. “This ain’t even the best part! Come on upstairs with me, I’ll show you my room.” You ran a hand up and down his sleeve as a signal for him to follow your lead.
Dallas let out a low whistle, slowly making his way up the staircase. His eyes darted in every which way, gliding his hand the entire way up the wooden railing of the staircase. “Shoot - I’d sure like to live in someplace like this.”
“Yeah? Well, you’re living in my room tonight,” you responded cheekily, biting back a smile. As you reached the final step, you guided him down the hallway which led to a number of bedrooms, each decorated in their own unique way. Dallas poked his head in each one, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion as to which was yours. “Dal, it’s this one.”
He whipped his head around, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Continuing to follow your lead, he carefully took in the new environment. Pink, flowers, ribbons, lace, hearts, dolls - it all hit Dallas like a tidal wave. His dull eyes were now filled with excitement at the sight of it all. “Jesus Christ,” he scoffed, “l think you might like the color pink.”
Letting out a burst of laughter, you ushered him inside. “Who would’ve thought, right?”
Dallas’s attention was immediately drawn to the white jewelry box with flowers painted along the side. He curiously stepped closer. He traced his finger along the woodwork, whistling lowly, “This a dollhouse or something? Looks like it would be for a-.” His attention diverted quickly, just before you could correct him. Dallas smiled in fascination as he caught sight of a small ballerina placed on a shelf near the closet doors. He inspected its fine details, running his fingers along the figure.
Before his interest was sparked again, you decided some commentary was needed. “That’s actually a music box, if you look at the bottom there’s a little knob.”
Dallas had his fingers twisting relentlessly around the knob before you even finished that sentence. He set it back down on the shelf, watching the little dancer spin around as the steel comb inside produced a delightful sound. “No fuckin’ way…” his voice trailed off in awe.
“You like that?” you chuckled, standing beside him to observe the figurine. It felt strangely comforting seeing Dallas with such youthful wonder in his eyes.
“That’s so cool, man, I want one,” he shifted his gaze from the music box back to you with a genuine smile.
“I have to show you this doll, I’ve had it since I was…five? I don’t know,” you spoke excitedly, dragging him towards your bed.
Kneeling beside the bed frame, you reached underneath it to retrieve a box. This box was worn out, each crease and wrinkle in the cardboard, a sign that it was well-loved over the years. Out came a porcelain doll, dressed in a white, ruffled dress with a lacey bodice that was colored in a soft shade of pink. Her hair was blonde and curled to perfection, a small bow added to accessorize her faux hair. Dallas stood over you, his thumbs in his jeans pockets. “She’s gorgeous, I bet that thing is worth more than my life.”
You gently stroked the back of her hair, admiring the delicate fabric of the miniature dress. “Hell- who knows?” You began to pack the doll up once more, hearing the shuffling of Dallas’s feet along your carpet. You paid no mind to this at first, assuming he was checking out more of your belongings. It was only then, that you stood up to find Dallas cozied up in your bed underneath a heap of fluffy pink and white blankets, holding a teddy bear against his arm. He had thrown on a satin sleeping mask adorned with small red hearts. Dallas had truly made himself at home, despite standing out more than any unique decoration in your room. He had a field day in your dollhouse of a room.
“How do I look?” he asked playfully, adding a hint of sass to his voice.
In adoration of a softer side you’d never seen before, you pounced onto him as you let out a giggle, wrapping yourselves in the plush blanket. “You look so pretty in pink.”
THANK YOU ALL FOR READING!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS ONE!!! 💋
- Sophia 🫶🏼
#only-lonely-star#the outsiders#the outsiders 1983#matt dillon#dallas winston#dally winston#dallas x reader#the outsiders fanfiction#the outsiders fandom#fan writing#dollete#the outsiders movie#dallas winston x y/n#dallas tucker winston#this is so cute bruh#soft dallas needs some love too#the outsiders imagine#dally winston x reader#soc!reader#fem!reader#imagine#pov#greaser#the outsiders novel#se hinton#s e hinton#fluff#coquette
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sad girl
Gaz x F!Reader
drabble
authors notes: Hello, im sad and wrote this to make myself feel better
warnings: drinking, a little.
Kyle watched you from across the bar. He watched as you ordered your first drink with sniffles and watery eyes. Your tears only held back for so long, once the drink was half gone they started pouring.
It didn't take him long to decide he wanted to fix that. Halfway through your second drink he stood from the table he was sharing with his mates. “Were ya think yer going?” John asks, looking at him with a raised brow. Kyle looked over to where you sat at the bar and the rest looked in the same direction.
Johnny lets out a booming laugh. “Gunna go save the damsel in distress?” he teases.
Simon smirks a little and John looks at him with a knowing expression. “Always an empath aint ya?” John says, joining in on the teasing.
Kyle rolls his eyes and grabs his drink. “Yeah yeah, laugh all ya want but I'll have her smilin by the end of the night.” He says before heading over to you. You don't notice him when he sits down right next to you, preoccupied with sipping through the small straw at your drink. You weren't crying as much as before but your eyes were still watery and your cheeks were still stained with tears and mascara. “What’s gotta lovely girl like yerself cryin in a dingy place like this?” He startles you.
Big glossy eyes look into his own and you can't hide the look of slight shock on your face. “Me?” your quiet, Kyle was barely even able to hear it. He was cute and his eyes were captivating, you couldn't help but wonder why he came up to you of all people.
He offers you a small smile, friendly and inviting. “Don't see any other beautiful girl around here do ya? Just a bunch of blokes.” He says with a shrug to the room.
Your face warms and it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts. You weren't drunk, but the alcohol definitely has given you a good buzz. “Just a… just a really bad day.” you say, voice a little shaky and you cant help the sniffle when you hold back more tears.
Kyle looked at you with a bit of a sad expression. “Well, we can't have that.” You look at him confused. “I know a place a few blocks over, a cafe, stays open late and has some good late night desserts. Let me treat ya?”
A tear rolls down your cheek. “Why? You don't even know me” You say, not understanding why.
He reaches a hand out towards your face, making sure you didn't flinch away and swipes the tear with his thumb. He leans in a little closer. “Because something about seeing you cry is telling me to do something about it, makes me want to see you smile.” He says softly.
You blink away a few small tears. “Really?” you ask, still unsure about his offer.
He nods with a sweet smile. “Really, I'd be more than happy to spend the evening with you, if you'll have me.” he extends his hand towards yours. “I'm Kyle.”
With a small smile you place your hand in his. “Y/N.”
And then you both lived happily ever after :D
#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle x reader#cod#cod x reader#gaz x reader#gaz imagine#kyle gaz garrick imagine#cod imagine
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Oblivious
Damon Salvatore x Reader
Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for Fictober 2024! Requested by @elenavampire21 - hope you like it! Thanks for being patient while I got it done!
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Day Thirty-One Prompt: "It's always been you."
Summary: You've always felt like the lowest priority out of everyone in the Mystic Falls group, but Damon disagrees.
Word Count: 1,905
Category: Fluff, light Angst
A/N: That's a wrap on Fictober baby! Woohoo! And Happy Thanksgiving everybody!
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
I hummed to myself as I scanned my bookshelf, trying to decide which one to grab. Since moving into college at Whitmore, I'd mostly just brought my favorites, since I didn't have much book space to spare in my single dorm room. But bringing all of my favorites made it a little hard to decide what to read on any given day.
I'd just about made up my mind, actually reaching out to grab one when the door to my room went flying open, smashing into the opposite wall.
I whirled around, my fight or flight response kicking into overdrive as I tried to remember where the nearest stake was in my room. I'd been dragged into the supernatrual drama just by being tangental to a certain friend group in Mystic Falls, which meant I was on high alert for supernatural threats. This weekend in particular, everyone I knew was back in Mystic Falls for a visit and a party.
At least, they were supposed to be. As I whipped around towards the door, I came face to face with none other than Damon Salvatore.
My heart started a very annoying gymnastics routine. I'd had a crush on Damon for a long time, despite knowing all his supernatural secrets, but with Elena around he'd never bothered to give me the time of day. I'd made my peace with it, more or less, but suddenly finding him standing in the doorway of my room, his piercing blue eyes fixed absolutely on me, still sent my heart racing.
"Hey! What are you doing?" I demanded, fixing Damon with the fiercest glare I could muster. Probably not very fierce at the moment, but I did my best.
"You should really keep this locked," Damon drawled instead of answering me. I scowled as he closed the door behind him, then took a few steps closer to me.
"We're in a crowded student dorm hall. It's normally not a problem."
"Well, it's a problem now."
Damon grinned at me, making a point of flashing his fangs. My scowl deepened.
"Do you not have to be invited in to student housing?" I asked, trying to deflect and distract Damon from paying any attention to my heartbeat. His grin only widened.
"Nope. I've used that to my advantage many times."
I tried to keep a grimace off my face at that. I knew enough about Damon and his history to realize he was refering to past hookups as much as anything else. Not my favorite subject to get into with him.
I cleared my throat, trying to push the thoughts out of my mind. I met Damon's gaze again and raised an eyebrow, going for casual and just hoping I could kind of pull it off.
"Why are you here?" I said. "Aren't you supposed to be hosting a party in Mystic Falls?"
"Aren't you supposed to be at that party with me?" Damon asked, voice low as he took another few steps towards me. I let out a little huff and looked away.
"Believe it or not, I'm not in the mood to go running back home every weekend that I'm at college. I have work to do and people I want to spend time with this weekend, both of which require me to stay here."
Damon stepped even closer to me, getting in my space and moving to try to see my expression. When I continued to look away from him, he took my chin in his hand and turned me to face him. I scowled, but didn't pull away.
"I don't believe you."
"What do you mean 'you don't believe me'?"
"I mean, when you explained your reasoning to me just now, your heartbeat told me you were lying." I frowned, but Damon just leaned in a little closer, his grip still tight on my chin. "So why aren't you in Mystic Falls?"
I huffed and rolled my eyes, finally pulling back and out of his grip. He let me go, but took a few steps to follow me across the room as I walked away.
"I'm just sick of all the supernatural drama," I said. "It's been nice to be here, building something separate from which vampire we're trying to kill this week, or which werewolf is trying to kill us. I'm happy here, and I don't want to blow all that up by going home and finding myself in the middle of the supernatural drama again."
Damon hummed. Nothing I'd said was a lie, technically, so he couldn't call me out like he had earlier. I kept my back to him so he couldn't read it in my face either.
"I guess that's the truth," Damon said, his voice way too casual. "But I know you well enough to know it's not the whole truth."
I snorted, then whipped around to face Damon with a scowl.
"Why do you care? I gave you an explanation, and it's the truth, so it's all you're getting."
Damon shook his head as he stepped even closer to me.
"Not gonna work for me, sweetheart. I'm not leaving here without the whole truth."
"Why? Damon, seriously, why is this so important to you?"
"Because. Now are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to compel it out of you?"
He wiggled his eyebrows at me, but I just rolled my eyes.
"We both know I'm on vervain, so knock it off. Just go back to Mystic Falls. Flirt with Elena to mess with your brother, whatever! Just leave me alone!"
"I don't want to flirt with Elena," Damon said, taking another step towards me. His voice was low, and more serious than I usually heard it, as his eyes locked onto mine. "I want to flirt with you, no one else. It's always been you."
Everything about Damon's tone and body language told me he was serious, but I knew what a good actor he could be when he wanted to. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms and squaring my shoulders to face Damon.
"Oh please. It's always been Elena, from day one with you! And the handful of times it hasn't been Elena? It's been just about anybody else in our group besides me. Caroline, that reporter Andie, the vampire Rose who kidnapped Elena... hell, even Rebekah Mikaelson! But never once me, Day."
Damon's frown had deepend, and he actually looked a little wounded. He took another step closer, almost putting us chest to chest, and opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but I put up a hand to stop him before he could get a word out.
"It's fine, Damon. Seriously, it's not a crime for you to not reciprocate my feelings. And I'm not avoiding Mystic Falls all because of some one-sided crush. But, seriously. Bonnie, Caroline, and Elena were supposed to be in a triple together. Nobody even checked with me, if I might want to join them in a dorm, since we were all going to Whitmore. I know I got sucked into the group by accident and not really by friendship, but for fuck's sake, I've thrown myself headfirst into this world and trying to help you guys, and still, it's like I'm barely even present. So I decided to say screw it, and I've made a bunch of great friends here outside of all this vampire shit, and I'm happy with that. So just go back to your party and leave me alone. I'd say pass the message on, but I doubt if anybody else'll notice."
Damon's frown had been steadily deepening the whole time I'd been speaking, and now he looked truly upset. I'd confessed a little more to him in the heat of the moment than I'd been planning to, but my words were still true. Maybe it was time for a full break from the rest of the Mystic Falls gang, and maybe this was how I got it done.
"Are you... absolutely blind?" Damon demanded, reaching out to take my hands before I could stop him. "I'll admit, when I first met Elena, she looked so much like Katherine that I was a little hung up on her. But I got over her when I got over Katherine. All I've been doing since a few weeks after I met you is trying to flirt with you! You've always shut me down!"
"What? Damon, you're crazy-"
"I abandoned Ric at the bar to buy you a drink and play pool. I blew off Stefan to go to some stupid Mystic Falls festival with you. For god's sake, I even asked you on a date after your graduation!"
"No no no, that was playful flirting. And the date thing was to make Elena jealous!"
"The date thing was not to make Elena jealous!"
I laughed, mostly out of panic, shaking my head and stepping back from Damon. He didn't let me get far. He followed me across the room until my back hit the wall, and then stepped into my space again. I looked up at him with wide eyes, and I knew he could hear just how fast my heart was beating.
"Damon, come on. You're... you. If you'd had a thing for me for over a year, there's no way I wouldn't know about it!"
"That's what I kept telling myself," he muttered. The faintest possible smile made its way onto his face. "I'm actually a little relieved it turns out you're just oblivious."
I snorted, but my heart had picked up speed again, which honestly shouldn't have been possible. If Damon were lying... well, it didn't make sense for Damon to be lying. There was no reason for him to come all the way down here, especially while everyone else in our group was throwing a party at his house, all for a lie with no real motivation.
I searched Damon's face, this time without a scowl. He smirked back at me and let his gaze slowly, clearly wander down to my mouth. I laughed.
"You're serious, aren't you? You're telling the truth."
"Of course I'm telling the truth," he said. His voice was more sincere and serious than it had been since he'd walked into my room as the smirk on his face became more of a smile. Slowly, he let one hand wander down to rest on my waist. I bit my lip, considering for just a second, then surged forward and kissed him.
Damon wasted no time pushing me against the wall and kissing me back. I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting myself get lost in the moment.
"Are you sure you don't want to go back to Mystic Falls?" I breathed between kisses as Damon moved along my neck and jaw. "You're missing a party in your own house."
"I'm sure. I hid all my good booze before I left. And I hate to rub it in, but..." Damon pulled back just enough to look me in the eye and let a predatory grin spread across his face. "I'm pretty happy you ended up in a single dorm room right now."
I laughed, something I honestly never thought I'd be able to do about the way I'd ended up in this single dorm room. Leave it to Damon to find a way to make it happen, despite the odds.
It'd taken a lot more drama and heartache than it should've to get here. Still, as Damon wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tight to his chest, I got the distinct impression that it would be worth it.
****************
Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21
TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21
#fictober24#the vampire diaries#damon salvatore#the vampire diaries fanfiction#damon salvatore x reader#the vampire diaries x reader#the vampire diaries imagine#the vampire diaries oneshot#damon salvatore fanfiction#damon salvatore oneshot#damon salvatore imagine#whitmore college#tvd#tvdu#tvd x reader#tvd fanfiction#tvd oneshot#tvd imagine#vampire#mystic falls
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There is a crack.
Years pass and it never grows.
Your cage always changes, but the glass still keeps you trapped.
A mirror, a helmet, a screen.
The crack remains.
You reach out and feel it’s sharp edges.
You reach out and only feel glass.
No sound gets through, no wailing, no crying, no rage and no desperation.
The cage of glass is a curse,
To see through and change nothing all the same.
Hope is a fragile thing.
Your cage always changes, but remains strong
And yet,
In every iteration,
The crack remains.
So you reach out.
Please excuse the deranged tags but they will also give insight into whatever I’m going on about with this
#thinking about how we the viewer Y/N are always separated by glass#wkm mirror#iswm helmet#sometimes when you watch these adventures with markiplier#do you reach out to his open inviting hand?#do you forget yourself and reach out#only to brush your fingers against the smooth unforgiving glass of your screen?#is there a crack on your phone screen?#on your laptop screen? your computer?#do you ever touch the crack on your screen and think:#do you ever think:#‘this is all the District Attorney feels too’?#do you do you do you do you?#the district attorney knows the glass is there. and yet do they ever forget themself as well?#this is the one parallel that drives me crazy. you are literally Y/N the district attorney#separated from marks world by glass#is this the mental illnesses talking? am I genuinely a little crazy. like me me.#wkm#who killed markiplier#iswm#in space with markiplier#iswm captain#wkm district attorney#wkm y/n#iswm y/n#iswm the captain#wkm the district attorney#markiplier#Codi don’t look#just in case
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‧₊˚ ⋅ i'll show you, rafe cameron
stepbro!rafe x fem!reader
masterlist
synopsis. in which your stepbrother kindly offers to show you porn for the first time.
warnings. stepbro!rafe, innocent!reader (but she's not an airhead), virgin!reader, smut, fingering, rafe putting in just the tip, oral sex (fem receiving), rafe licks his own creampie.
word count. 4k.
author's note. idea by @matts1andonly. english isn't my first language so there might be spelling mistakes, don't hold it against me. enjoy!
it's past midnight when you finally slide out of your bedroom without making a sound. you have been waiting patiently for your mom and ward to go to bed so you can do this without risking getting caught. wheezie is already asleep too, sarah is out with john b somewhere, and rafe left the house earlier, not telling anyone where to, so you know he's going to arrive late, as always.
it's the perfect moment.
rafe's room is down the hallway, so you make your way there quietly not to wake anyone, your barefoot feet making soft footstep sounds when you walk. once there, you open the door as carefully as you possibly can, knowing it creaks every time it gets open. this time, thanks to god, it does not.
you manage to sneak into the dormitory unnoticed, then shut the door behind you. the place is dark, only a faint glimmer of moonlight coming in through his curtains, but you want to lay low, so you don't turn on the lights. by all means, the dim lighting is enough for you to spot what you're looking for.
rafe's mac, laying there on his desk.
what's the point behind all of this? you might be wondering. well, let me answer you real quick. turns out, this handsome, muscled college guy has invited you on a date. problem is, you have never been on a date. you haven't even hold hands with a guy romantically before, much less kissed or fucked one. you simply refuse to come off as a prude, which honestly you are, but that dream of a man doesn't need to know that.
and that's why you have decided that it is a good idea to break into your stepbrother's bedroom and borrow his laptop, since yours broke last week, to watch porn in it for the first time.
well, now that you hear it out loud, it probably sounded better in your head. anyways...
you stroll towards the desk with languid steps and sit down on rafe's chair, small hands reaching hesitantly to open the laptop. you turn it on and the screen light illuminates your pretty face right away. you swear your fingers are shaking a little bit as you open up the browser and type 'porn videos' on the search bar.
somehow, you feel like you are doing something wrong, and you can't seem to shake the guilt away. either way, you don't back out. you click the enter button and, after just a few seconds, a million search results pop up. honestly, you don't know where to start, so you click on the first one, which redirects you to a website called pornhub.
the home page is full of videos, the first thing to catch your attention being the obscene thumbnails of each one of them. your cheeks flush a deep shade of red. you read some of the titles as you bite your lip nervously, realising most of them contain the word 'stepsister' in them, and you wonder if that is the only content posted on this page.
how innocent of you not to know that the website is making recommendations based on your stepbro's most searched tag.
before things escalate further, you spot rafe's airpods max sitting there on the desk and decide to grab them, connecting them to the laptop and putting them on —this way you can make sure no one overhears anything. after that, you spend a few more minutes scrolling through the page, during which you discover that there's a ton of categories to choose from.
how are you supposed to know which one to pick?
you are so invested in your little research, headphones canceling the noise, that you don't hear neither rafe opening the front door nor him walking up the stairs and, surely, don't notice him standing behind you until he speaks. and it's too late by then.
"the fuck are you doing, sweetheart?" he blurts, complete and utterly shocked to see his naive stepsister fuckin' watching pornhub.
well shit, maybe you aren't as innocent as he thought you were.
you jolt instantly, jumping out of your seat as you feel all the colour draining from your cheeks. no way rafe just caught you in the act. this can't be real. despite how bad you want to run away, you are left with no other choice but to turn around and face him, wishing the earth would swallow you up.
"i– this is not what it looks like, i swear i can explain," you stutter nervously, taking of the airpods with trembling hands. from here on, the anxious rambling begins, "i wasn't doing anything... this guy– well, i... i uhm– i got a date, 'kay? with this guy from class and– listen, i know this is silly, but..."
"jesus christ, baby, slow down, 'kay?" he stops you, his heart nearly melting from how cute you look, so shy and flustered. he almost feels bad for interrupting whatever the hell you were doing here.
the colour has returned to your cheeks, and you are all flushed now, from head to toe. your face feels like it's on fire; you have never been this embarrassed before.
"could you please start over?" he asks, hoping to hear a coherent explanation to why you are in his room, in the middle of the night, and watching porn on his laptop.
you take a deep breath, fidgeting with the hem of your top. you are so deeply ashamed that you don't seem to remember that you are wearing nothing but a flimsy white singlet and a tiny pair of matching panties. rafe's very aware of that fact, though, hungry eyes trailing all over your beautiful body.
"i've got a date with a guy from class," you start explaining, white teeth nibling occasionally on your plump bottom lip, "but i've never dated anyone, ya' know? i've no experience, and i don't want him to think i'm pathetic if we..."
"fuck?" he finishes your sentence, a roguish grin spreading across his handsome face.
if possible, your blush deepens even more at the vulgarity while you mutter a quiet 'yeah' in response.
honestly, he is a bit jealous of that guy. not only you are willing to let him fuck you, but you are also trying to learn how to do it properly so he has a good time doing it. yeez, what a shame for him he is going to kill him as soon as he finds out who he is; there's no chance rafe's letting you near any other man but him.
"i thought, uhm, maybe watching that would help..." you add coyly, his silence making you more nervous.
it is cute how you try to avoid saying words like 'fuck' or 'porn', like it is a crime to pronounce them or something.
"you know what? let's watch it together," he proposes.
there's a mischievous glint in his eyes that doesn't go unnoticed. you swear your cheeks might just explode at any second, and you can't help the pathetic stutter that comes out when you talk. "uhm, i don't think that'd be appropriate," you refuse, shaking your head.
"why not? you want help, and i can help you here, sweetheart," he answers, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle —unlike rafe, "that's what big brothers are for, aren't they?"
he takes a few steps in his direction until he is standing right beside you. then, he grabs the laptop in his large hands as he flashes you a wicked smirk, his curtain bangs falling messily on his forehead. you gulp, having him so close makes you feel a certain way; you cannot deny that.
"you, uhm, being my stepbrother is exactly why not," you stammer as you tilt your head back to look at him, his height towering over you.
"bullshit," he retorts, huffing. "you trust me?"
your first mistake is, probably, trusting rafe cameron. "yeah, i do, but..."
"that's why 'm perfect for the job, baby," he interrupts you. his words are clearly intended to manipulate you, but you are way too innocent to notice it, "i'm probably the guy you feel most comfortable with, aren't i? i can give ya' all the advice you need."
to be fair, he isn't wrong about that. you don't have any male friends, and you are honestly too embarrassed to ask your girlfriends for help on this department, not wanting them to think less of you. plus, rafe is a guy; he knows better what guys like, right?
"wouldn't it be kinda... weird ?" you ask, clearly hesistant.
"weird?" he repeats. "no, 'course not."
only a few more sweet, reassuring words is all it takes for him to gently coax you into watching his favourite pornos with him. his cock starts to harden in his pants just at the thought of having you like that. when you finally accept, he swears he's on cloud nine.
god, he's been wanting you for months now; he can't believe this is happening.
"c'mere, baby," he eagerly instructs you, getting on his bed.
he sits with his back resting on the headboard and pats the spot between his legs to invite you to sit there. he places the laptop next to him, the pornhub website still open on it. you move slowly towards him, cheeks slightly flushed from the embarrassment as you settle on the mattress in between his parted thighs, your back pressed to his hard chest.
he wraps one strong arm securely around your waist, his hand coming to rest gently on your tummy. with his other hand, he reaches for the laptop sitting beside him, carefully bringing it closer so the two of you can see the screen properly.
your heart is beating so fast in your chest that he can probably hear it, too. the way he is touching you is not making it easier for you to stay calm, either, his fingers tenderly tracing patterns on your belly over the thin fabric of your shirt while he scrolls through the page.
he seems to sense your discomfort and chuckles low in his throat, his warm breath tickling your ear. "relax, sis," he whispers teasingly, his voice laced with amusement. "i'm not gonna make you watch anything that'll traumatize you."
"it's just– this is a bad idea," you babble, fidgeting nervously when he finally clicks on a video and a pretty young woman appears on screen.
the actress is beautiful; she has a gorgeous body and face. her lips are full and pink, and she has these big, expressive eyes that appear to gleam. and you don't realize it, but she looks exactly like you.
the scene starts playing; in it, the girl is watching some movie with a guy that, apparently, is her roommate —at least that's what the title says.
"shhh..." he hushes you softly, his voice barely audible over the sounds emanating from his laptop's speakers. "just watch. don't overthink it."
"okay," you answer between gritted teeth.
your pretty eyes are fixed on the laptop while you try not to cringe at how bad the script and acting are, which is nearly impossible, to be honest. despite that, you keep watching in silence as the video plays, growing more flustered as the clock ticks.
you didn't know mouths could be used for that... interesting.
as opposed to you, rafe's pretty chill behind you, like he's unbothered by this whole situation —he's actually hard as fuck inside his pants, the thing is you haven't noticed. you wonder how he can act so unfazed, since you keep pushing your thighs together to try and soothe the throbbing sensation building in between them while you take in the lewd actions occurring on screen.
you weren't expecting your body to have this reaction, and now you don't know what to do to make it stop.
rafe soon becomes aware of the way you keep letting out soft sighs and squirming in his arms, plush ass rubbing against his cock every time you do it. it's a miracle he is still holding back, though he doesn't know how much time he will be able to.
he's not even paying attention to the video anymore, his entire focus put on you. he finally ventures to lean in, his hot breath grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "you know, i could do that to you..." his hand slowly slides to your plush thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.
his movements are measured and controlled not to scare you, but your breath hitches in your chest at his actions either way, body tensing up in his grasp. your brain is telling you to push him away, but the insistent throb in your sex doesn't like that idea, not one bit.
"you– you could?" you utter quietly, not taking your eyes away from the laptop.
rafe notices the uncertainty in your voice, but the way you haven't pushed him away yet emboldens him to continue, his large hand gradually sliding north.
"yeah, baby," he murmurs huskily against your ear, fingertips brushing along your inner thigh. "i could put my fingers inside you, just like he's doing to her..."
his words make you blush heavily as a little gasp is released from your pouty lips. "would it feel good?" you ask naively.
your eyes are transfixed in the sight of the guy on the screen pushing his fingers inside the girl's pussy. god, she seems like she's enjoying it so much... and you desperately want to feel like that too. you can't even bring yourself to care that it's your stepbrother offering to show you.
rafe's fingers creep higher and higher until they're barely brushing against your cotton panties. "yeah," he growls huskily against your ear, "it'd feel real good, sweetheart. i promise..."
you shudder, a sweet little mewl escaping your throat involuntarily. you can't help but blush at your own reaction, slightly embarrassed by it. you tear your eyes away from the screen, head falling back against his chest as you look up at him.
"it's throbbing, rafe..." you whine, self-control slipping from your hands. "can you make it better?"
rafe's fingers finally make contact with your wet underwear, pressing against your clit through the fabric. he rubs gentle circles around your sensitive nub, his other hand curling around your supple thigh to spread your legs wider.
"oh, baby, you're soaked through your panties..." he pants out.
your body literally melts into his touch like butter, perfectly shaped brows knitting together in a frown of pleasure. the girl in the video moans, and you do too, both sounds echoing in the silence of his room.
taking your moan as an invitation, rafe carefully hooks his fingers in the gusset of your panties to push them aside, exposing your sopping cunt to the cool air of his bedroom. then, he traces your wet slit slowly, leisurely, as if savoring the velvety feel of your skin.
"such a pretty little pussy..." he praises, eyes hungrily taking in the pink expanse of flesh.
you squirm and let out a soft whimper, biting your lip right after to avoid keep making noises; the last thing you want is to wake up your parents or wheezie. rafe notices your struggle and swiftly reaches up to cover your mouth with his free hand, muffling your sweet moans.
he gathers some of the wetness dripping out of your cunt before trailing his fingers all the way up to your clit, rubbing it gently. your eyes roll back, hips bucking up against his hand instinctively. the way your swollen bud throbs beneath his fingertips is going to make you mad. he begins to touch your clit in fast, tight circles, his other hand still holding your mouth shut to keep you quiet.
he leans in to whisper against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, "if you make a sound, i'll stop, got it?"
you nod obediently in response, making your best effort to comply; you don't want him to stop doing this, never. as a reward, rafe slides a thick finger down your slit and presses it against your clenched entry, steadily applying pressure until your tight muscles finally give in and allow his digit ingress.
"so fuckin' tight," he groans under his breath at the feeling of your narrow pussy engulfing his finger.
withdrawing his finger almost all the way out, he teases your entrance with the tip, making you tremble with anticipation before pushing it back in to the knuckle, his palm cupping your mound as he starts to thrust in a smooth, lazy rhythm. you swallow a whiny cry while your eyelids flutter shut, pretty face scrunched in a blissful expression.
rafe works his finger in and out of your slick pussy slowly, marveling at how your velvety walls flutter around the digit. he curls it inward, searching for that special spot that's guaranteed to drive you wild.
after a few experimental pokes, rafe's fingertip finally brushes over your g-spot, eliciting a muffled moan from under his palm. he smiles wickedly against your skin, and you shudder in his grasp, pleasure waves running through your body.
"that's it, sweetheart... feel good?" he croons softly, fingering you nice and deep.
you can't bring yourself to reply, the sensation of his large digit fucking your pussy, added to the constant rubbing of his palm against your puffy clit has your mind feeling all fuzzy. your body language is the only answer he needs, though.
rafe leans in to tenderly nip at your neck, his hot mouth latching onto your slender throat as he keeps pumping his finger steadily in and out of your dripping cunt. he knows you're close when he feels your inner muscles starting to clench erratically around his digit.
"rafe," you moan onto his palm as you feel this new, strange sensation building in your tummy, pussy tingling so nicely.
heaven help him. hearing you, his stepsister, moan his name like that makes rafe's hard dick throb almost painfully against his zipper.
and then it happens. the coil in your belly suddenly snaps and you have to bite onto your lip harshly to keep yourself from screaming as you cum for the very first time, on your stepbrother's hand. rafe continues to pump his finger in and out of your spasming cunt as you ride out your climax, wanting to prolong your pleasure.
when you finally come down from your high, you're all shaky and flustered in his arms, panting heavily to try and catch your breath. he has a satisfied smirk on his lips while he slowly withdraws his slick digit from your quivering hole to bring it up to his mouth and lick it clean, savoring your taste.
"did so well for me, baby," he coos as he uncovers your mouth, gently turning your head to the side to press a kiss to your swollen, red lips.
you return it sloppily, eyes fluttering shut in the process, and you sigh contently against his mouth. he can't help but rock his hips against your ass, rubbing his hard on against you.
"did i make you feel good?" he asks between little kisses, his breathing growing uneven. you nod in response. "yeah? then it's just fair you make me feel good too, sweetheart... wanna do that f'me?"
"yes," you whisper against his lips without even thinking, feeling him smirk into the kiss.
"such a good girl," he praises.
at some point, the porn video playing on his laptop ended, so he simply closes it up and tosses it away, the device landing somewhere on his king size bed. then, he turns you both around, until you are laying on the mattress and he is on top of you.
he is quick to undo his pants and yank them down, just enough to free his raging hard on, which bounces against his abs. let me tell you this, he's big, the tip pink and fat, already leaking precum.
suddenly, realization hits you. this is your stepbrother for god's sake, are you really gonna let him fuck you?
he notices how your body tenses up, one hand reaching to stroke your plush thigh reassuringly while the other wraps around his shaft, giving it a slow pump.
"hey, baby, relax..." he whispers gently, "i'll put just the tip in, yeah? there's nothing wrong with that."
you hesitate. his strong arms slide beneath your legs to tug you closer. then his cock brushes your pussy and you whimper. how are you supposed to say 'no' ?
it's just the tip.
"mhmm, 'kay" you end up agreeing with a little nod.
rafe flashes you a lopsided smirk, his hand gripping his cock again while the free one yanks your panties aside once more. keeping eye contact, he slowly glides the fat head of his dick up and down your drenched slit, coating it thoroughly in your arousal. you shudder as his tip eventually meets your puffy clit, the gentle rubbing sending shivers down your spine.
"rafe," you whimper.
rafe's eyelids droop, a low hum of pleasure escaping his throat as he continues to slowly drag the reddened head up and down your chubby pussy lips with squelching sounds. his breathing grows heavier the longer he teasingly rolls it against your slick folds, reveling in your breathy whimpers. he feels like he's about to burst already, pre-cum steadily leaking from the tip and onto your flesh.
he can't fucking take this anymore.
with a slow, gentle thrust, he sinks his cock into your warm, slippery pussy, just the head breaching your entrance before he pauses, savoring the initial penetration. his eyes lock onto yours, his pupils blown wide with lust.
"jesus, fuck." he grunts.
your cunt starts fluttering around him. he has barely slided the first two inches in, as he promised, but he's so thick that even that feels like a tight fit. you let out a moan, which mingles with a strained groan from rafe as your velvety walls clench tightly around his swollen cockhead.
"gonna– might just nut already, shit" rafe mutters through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to just drive forward and hilt himself deep. "so goddamn tight."
your hips buck unconsciously against his, making him slip in just a tad further —which nearly makes him lose all his self-control. somehow, he manages to keep his shit together, hips rocking slowly to thrust in and out of you while his veiny hand strokes the rest of his shaft.
you're totally enthralled by the sight, liquid heat pooling in your belly while you watch him use your body for his pleasure. he looks so good, you can't believe he's real. your chest fills with pride at the knowledge that you're making this greek god feel good.
this is the fastest rafe has ever cum, the movement of his hips becoming jerky and sloppy after a few minutes as he spills his sperm inside you. he's panting heavily, sweat beading on his brow while his fist squeezes the base of his cock tightly.
you're left wanting more when he slowly pulls out, pussy stretched out and leaking white spurts of cum. he gazes down at you with a smirk, lightly tapping the head of his dick against your swollen clit, which has you writhing beneath him.
"so fuckin' gorgeous stuffed full of my cum," he whispers, his cock smearing the sticky substance all over your slit. you mewl in response. "hmm, 'm sorry for making such a mess on your pretty pussy, sweetheart, lemme clean it up, yeah?"
you blush in response when he leans forward, throwing your creamy thighs over his broad shoulders, to put his mouth onto your sex. you almost cry at the heavenly feeling, his playful tongue delving between your folds to lap up his own release. he cleans you up thoroughly, only to mess you up again right after, his spit soaking your cunt as he makes you cum again.
after tonight, you are cancelling that date, that's for sure.
#🍒 ‧₊˚ ⋅ rafeysbunny#🍒 ‧₊˚ ⋅ one shots#obx#outer banks#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron outer banks#outer banks rafe#rafe obx#obx rafe cameron#outer banks rafe cameron#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron x virgin!reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x innocent!reader#just the tip#stepbro!rafe#stepbrother!rafe cameron#rafe cameron x stepsister!reader
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"--and this is the staffroom," Gojo sing-songed, swinging open the door on your First Day Tour, with you a few steps behind him, "--ah! And that's Nanamin. Say hi, Nanamin!"
A tall, suited blond man looked up from his spot on the sofa as you peered in; at first, he simply nodded to you, disinterested. Then, Gojo spoke again while leading you out.
"--he's not very fun, don't worry-- no sense of humour."
Your final glimpse as the door closed, was of the blond man's irritated scowl.
It was true; Kento clearly didn't make people laugh, for he was either too mean or too subtle to be funny. This was the case, at least, until you. And you had no idea what your laughter did to him.
You had formed an alliance of respect, an easy bond that would have been camaraderie if not for Kento's standoffishness. You felt him hover nearby on joint missions, close enough to lunge to your rescue, but far enough that he could resist your magnetism.
Talking, and surveying the abandoned school, you spoke aloud as you walked down the stairs.
"So perhaps I'll take the East Wing, and you take the We--ergh!"
You reeled back, having walked headfirst into a buckled ceiling. Kento stepped to your aid, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, and lifting your chin to look at your forehead. He huffed, barely a puff of breath through his nose, wiping dust from your forehead before grumbling.
"You'll be alright. Not much in there, anyway."
You burst into laughter, and Kento electrified, absolutely rigid. You patted his chest, still giggling as you walked away, cooing back over your shoulder in a way that utterly melted him.
"So mean."
You soon learned that Nanami Kento was possibly the funniest man at Jujutsu High. Dry and unforgiving in a way that made your brittle colleagues crumble, you found yourself, instead, choking back laughter every time he crippled one with another savage put-down.
When Yuuji arrived late to a mission, Kento stepped over to him and, poe-faced, pulled up his shirtsleeve to show Yuuji his wrist.
"This," Kento hummed, flat, "is a watch. You can buy one at any good supermarket."
When a waiter slopped coffee over Kento's shoulder, Kento dabbed at it to the waiter's frantic, apologetic bowing. Kento raised a placating hand and insisted to the confused waiter.
"It's alright. I never liked this suit anyway."
When you stood at the staffroom window with him, watching a monsoon in companionable silence, Kento murmured over the rim of his mug.
"Lovely day."
He had timed it just-so, and barely concealed his lopsided smirk when you choked on your tea. Shoko walked in, drenched, looking at you and Kento in dismay. You coughed, opening your mouth to speak, but Kento got there first, firing shots.
"Is it raining?"
Shoko scoffed, sputtering, while you buckled against the windowsill.
Kento grabbed a hand towel and an umbrella, heading to the door. As Shoko reached for the towel, Kento pressed the umbrella into her hands instead, his expression flat, but his voice edged with a feral pleasure that made you come undone.
"You'll need this."
Kento's meanness was tempered only by his self-deprecation, and when you took as good as you gave, you felt his icey facade melt away completely, revealing such warmth.
It was no wonder you were drawn to each other, when the only reason neither of you laughed together, was because you were in a constant stand-off for who could remain poe-faced the longest. Kento always won.
Still, you felt the need to break him; you had cracked smiles, or the occasional chuckle out of him, but nothing more. You knew nothing more than the truest irony would do it.
The day came; you arrived, to your usual staffroom rendezvous, covered in blood. Kento paled, abandoning his book to rise immediately and reach you in three long strides.
"--you're hurt-- we'll go to Sho--"
"Kento. Stop. It's not my blood-- it's Gojo's."
Kento did a double-take, his eyes narrowing in disbelief, so you explained.
"Gojo invited himself to teach me about Curses that are 'above my paygrade', so he took me to one. I told him this Curse was clearly more powerful than it looked, and Gojo told me to step back so he could handle it. Said he'd even do it without his Infinity on. So I stepped back."
Kento's nose flared, barely perceptible.
"...and?"
You took a deep breath. "So, Gojo has a broken nose--"
Kento broke down with a wheeze, before bursting into a rich, deep rolling laughter that split the clouds with sun. His hands clasped the windowsill, his eyes crinkled, and his shoulders shook with wicked, throaty mirth.
You felt yourself becoming drunk off him, utterly intoxicated by his laughter. Kento couldn't stop himself, trembling with schadenfreude to the point of indecency.
Finally, sighing and straightening as if exhausted, Kento wiped his eyes with the side of his finger, and smiled at you with sweet adoration. Laughter still threatened to break through as he begged you.
"Would you-- would you like to go out for dinner? With me?"
You paused, your expression pained.
"Ah...no. No, thank you."
Kento froze, his face beginning to fall. You looked down at yourself, and announced, still deadpan.
"It's just-- I'm covered in blood, you see--"
That sent Kento over the edge again.
You remained content throughout the years of your marriage, for Nanami Kento to be viewed by others as boring and humourless. You found yourself jealously greedy of his rare laughter, anyway.
After marriage, you viewed it as the highest badge of honour to make him laugh like that while he was buried inside you.
#pseudowho#jjk#haitch#kento nanami#nanami kento#jjk nanami#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#nanamin#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami x y/n#nanami#nanami fluff#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#kento nanami smut#nanami fanart#nanami kento smut#nanami smut#gojo#shoko ieiri#gojo satoru#nanami kento x y/n
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The Bewitching
—thinking about roommate!simon riley seeing you in your halloween costume… MDNI
"Where's your sexy roommate anyway, babe?" Your friend, dressed as a sexy witch, purred from her spot on a stool around the kitchen island. You had invited two friends over to spend Halloween with you since your roommate, Simon, had to work.
"He, uh, had to work," you say, taking a sip of your wine. Your witchy friend's eyes widened as she carefully dipped a pita chip into some hummus.
"On Halloween?" She gawked, pushing the chip into her mouth, eyes wide. You also take a chip and swirl it around in the hummus before shrugging.
"Seems so," you say, inhaling the chip. You turn to pull open the fridge, reaching for a bottle of champagne. Once you turn back, you see your other friend dressed as a sexy police officer, head slightly titled in confusion, her eyes carefully observing your costume.
"So, what are you supposed to be? A sexy nurse?" She questions. You raise your brows, perplexed that she couldn't tell who you were.
"You're kidding, right?" You urge, waiting a minute before continuing to see if she is joking. She shakes her head no, pursing her lips. You shake your head in disbelief. "Debs, I'm one of the nurses from Silent Hill."
"Should've gotten Simon to dress as pyramid head," your sexy witch friend instantly says. You flick your eyes to hers to see a smirk spreading on her lips.
"Oh, please," you laugh out. "Over his dead body would he ever willingly dress up." You take a sip of your wine, stalling when you hear the sound of a familiar truck pulling into the driveway.
"Oh, looks like your big guy is home," Debs winks. You roll your eyes, set your wine glass down, and head for the front door. You step out to see Simon searching for something in his truck.
"Hey," you greet. "What're you doing back so early?" He doesn't avert his attention from some loose papers he was scanning over.
After a minute, he says, "Price had a Halloween thing for his kid." He continues sifting through loose papers. "So, here I am," he dryly says, eyes still focused on the papers.
"Okay. FYI, the girls are inside—" You start before he interrupts, finally turning around to face you.
"If you want, I can just go to a bar, or—" He abruptly stops, eyes wandering down your body, taking in your costume—which included a very provocative dress. He swallows deeply as his eyes sweep over your exposed thighs, up to the deep dip of your breasts on display.
"Simon?" You prod, trying to understand why he has stopped speaking. He drags his eyes up to look into yours.
"You—what are you supposed to be?" He lazily questions.
"Um, a nurse," you say; he tilts his head to the side.
"Never seen a nurse look like that," he sticks his tongue out to wet the seam of his dry lips. You feel a sudden rush of embarrassment.
"It's from a—a game," you quickly say, rocking back on the heels of your feet. "It's kind of stupid," you turn your head away from him, trying to hide some embarrassment from his gaze.
"I like it," his eyes shamelessly drag down the length of your body. You flick your eyes back to him, offering him a small smile, noting the way his eyes become darker as the seconds pass.
"Ya?" You're shocked that you managed to get a word out since your mouth had turned to ash. Dry as a bone.
"Mhm," he hums as he takes a step towards you. You swallow hard as he steps closer to you, close enough for his fingers to graze the hem of your dress, tugging it down gently so it covers a little more of your thighs.
"Simon," you breathlessly say as you feel his fingers graze your bare skin.
"Dress ridin' up a little high," he murmurs, though he doesn't take his fingers away from you. He looks down at you, taking in your lazily closed eyes. "Have you gone out yet?"
"Wha—no. Didn't really want to," your tone is a little wobbly now as his hand slowly skimmed under your dress. You release a shallow breath.
He tilts his head back slightly. "No? What is it you wanted to do then?" He continues his movements, skimming his fingers up your thigh, slowly maneuvering between them. You find yourself gripping his shoulders. "Huh?" He tuts.
"I don't—I don't know," you choke out, dropping your head slightly as his hand grazes your cunt over your already wet underwear. You find yourself pushing yourself into his palm.
He leaned in closer to you, his hot breath grazing against the shell of your ear. "Did you want me to see you in this little outfit?" He whispers. You lean into his words flowing in your ear. "You knew how badly I wanted to touch this pretty pussy. Didn't you?" You let out an involuntary moan at his words, tightening your grip on his shoulders.
His pointer and middle finger slip into you through your underwear, grazing your clit. You find yourself rocking against his fingers to get more friction. "Ah, fuck. That's it, pretty girl," he groans, moving his fingers faster. "Keep fucking my fingers—just like that."
He pulled you closer onto him with his other hand, gripping your ass tightly to get you more friction. You leaned your head into his chest, moaning as his fingers continued to move in you.
"Fuck, baby. Look at me—look at me," he commands. You flick your head up to look him in the eyes; his mouth is slightly parted from panting. "Just like that," he pants, watching your mouth agape as he coaxes your orgasm, making you come in your underwear.
He holds you up as your body spasms, gifting him with the sweet mewls you spew. Once your orgasm subsides, he grips one side of your soaked underwear, slipping it down your thighs and tucking it into the pocket of his cargo pants he wore.
You look up at him, doe-eyed, before you look around in horror. "Oh my—you just, you just fingered me in the front yard," you frantically say, taking a step away from him. His lip quips at your genuine anguish.
"I know. I was there," he monotonously says. Anxiously, you bring your hands to thread through your hair. Your eyes widen even more.
"Oh my—my friends," you exclaim, whipping your head to your house.
"Guess you'll have some explaining to do," he casually says.
"Fuck you," you remark.
"Hungry for more already?" He smirked, pulling you by the arm closer to him so you rested flat against his body.
"No—you know that's not what I meant!"
a/n: happy almost halloween! take my treat to u all! divider!
reblogs & comments are encouraged!
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