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monzamash · 5 months ago

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easy to please lando norris x you rating – mature (sexual themes, coarse language) blurb for ✨monzamusings✨

thinking about u, the text read. above it, there was a photo – dark, a little bit blurry, possibly a figment of your weary imagination. a hand pressing down on black cotton, tanned and veiny – a hand you immediately recognised. fingers too, gripping the thin material and an outline that had you sitting up in bed, lazy smile slipping across your flushed cheeks as the picture came into focus. lip bitten. baby, was all you sent in reply. your eyelids fluttered shut momentarily, loosing the battle to sleep until you felt your phone buzzing, resting in your slack hand. they were coming thick and fast and bringing you back into the present. your fingers tingled from the sensation when you held it up and nearly dropped the bright screen on your squinting forehead. don’t baby me i miss u can i call please???? winky face emoji.

you sighed sharply into the plush pillow beside your head, wondering whether or not you had the energy for it. the appetite was always there. hell – all you could think about was him; even in the mundane moments, he was everywhere you looked – your work, your friends, the cheesy rom com that made you cry before wrapping yourself up in a blanket and falling asleep. you missed him. the back and forth, the will they won’t they bullshit nearly sending you into a spiral of complete and utter confusion. the future was uncertain; the distance between where you were and wherever he was in the world unbearable but what you did know was that you loved him, missed him. and he was yours.

heartbreakingly so. alright romeo but make it quick always am hehe. dickhead.

the phone call connected after one, maybe half a ring – there was no pretence anymore with you and lando. this was routine now, the late night calls across oceans, and it was always the same. whispered, i miss you's and i love you's, strangled moans, hands frantically chasing the high of what you knew felt like heaven together, by whatever means necessary, the best dirty talk you could ever imagine, barely tiding you over until you could be close enough to feel each other again.

“hi pretty girl.”

“hi boyfriend”

“ugh, i love it when you call me that. say it again…”

and you did, over and over until the late night giggles took hold and lando couldn’t breathe – the goofy smile scrunching the corners of his dry eyes, fatigue and exhaustion lingering in his hoarse voice.

“you should be sleeping.”

“i would be if you were here,” he stated matter of fact, not even a blinking, “i think i got used to having you with me over winter break… spoiled me too much and now i'm ruined for life.”

“so dramatic.”

“i’m being so real,” he yawned and by the soft grumble on the other end, he was definitely stretching out his sore, weary muscles like cat. there was a beat and a click of the tongue before lando spoke again, the ominous silence already making your eyes playfully roll.

“so… what are you wearing right now?”

“unbelievable…”

“you cant blame a man for asking, especially in my hour of need… show me pleeeeease” lando whined, toothy smile no doubt lining his chapped lips.

“what if I’m not wearing anything?” you taunted, snapping a quick photo and sending it through without a second thought.

lando quickly peaked, side-eyeing the screen sneakily and sighed when he realised you were pulling his chain, “i'm wearing some shirt you left behind because it’s hotter than satan's asshole here in london at the moment.”

he groaned more to himself than to you, eyes scanning your curves under the thin material, fixated on how unconstricted you were under the shirt he recognised, breasts pert. lando was restless and you really did deserve more than the desperado ‘what are you wearing’ pick up line but god, he wanted to know, no, he needed to know because if he didn't find out, he feared he may never recover.

after all, it was you that had him sick in love. and perpetually horny.

“think i might like you in my clothes more than naked…"

“you’re a sicko.”

“mmm you make me like this… and no bra, like are you trying to kill me?”

“always.”

you cupped your chest over his shirt and took another photo, teasing the gorgeous man waiting for your every move with bated breath. he’d sucked in his bottom lip, you could hear by how shallow his breathing had become, reminiscent of a panting dog – the sound alone quickened your heart rate. the image of him sitting in a hotel room alone, hand pressed to his aching cock thinking about you, parched to the point of a sleepless night was dizzying.

and it was easy with lando, the familiarity of his voice and the rhythm you effortlessly fell into. all remnants of consciousness melted away with him.

“wish i was there with you baby,” he whispered and you nodded, smiling, even though he couldn’t see how happy it made you to hear him say it.

“me too,” you sighed, relaxing into the stillness until your loud, obnoxious doorbell shook you from the peaceful silence.

“fuck!” you cursed, frozen in place.

“what?”

“someones at the door…”

“what time is it there?”

“like 11pm… should i ignore it?” you were already grabbing the cardigan you'd thrown over the end of your bed and halfway to the door, curiosity winning out.

“nah, nah. you’re on the phone with me – answer it,” he encouraged, “i wanna make sure it isn’t your side piece coming ‘round when i’m not there.”

“ha-ha, actually my other boyfriend is already here, i've been trying to get you off the phone this whole time...”

"hmm, lucky cunt." he mumbled.

lando made you brave, stupidly brave so you swung the door open without hesitation, locked and loaded with a line of interrogating questions for the person interrupting the precious time you had with the man you love.

but you were hearing double as you held the phone to your ear and looked up – you knew that mess of frazzled curls and tired eyes anywhere, peering back with a smile the size of the moon curling at the corners of his lips. he was bundled up in a hoodie, one you knew would feel warm to the touch and smelled like him.

you had to be dreaming.

“better go tell your other boyfriend to pack his shit and get the fuck out of our house.”

“lando…” tears welled in your eyes as you lunged into his open arms.

“hi pretty girl…” he chuckled, picking you up without hesitation and hooked your legs around his waist, carrying you over the threshold.

“why didn’t you say you were coming home?”

“surprises are sexy, no?” he asked, voice deliciously low. he knew your answer.

“very sexy.” you moaned and pressed firm, fiery kisses into his strong neck, “you’re so sexy – all of this is sexy… god, i love you.”

“love you too sweetheart – let’s go to bed.”

“to sleep?” you asked, with doe-eyes and a devilish grin.

“yeah, i flew eleven fuckin' hours to just sleep… oh and by the way," lando narrowed his eyes and pointed to the crinkled shirt hanging from your shoulders, you looked a mess.

"i want my shirt back right now.”

you hummed and twirled down the hallway, “you’re gonna have to pry it off my cold, horny body, norris…”

“mission accepted,” lando confidently stated, chest puffed as he started stripping his hoodie from his body and inched closer and closer to where you were stood and all you could do was admire the gorgeous man stalking towards you.

oh, and blink a few times to make sure you definitely weren't dreaming, "i can't believe you were sexting me in the back of a cab."

“i know," he chuckled, "it was getting a bit much by the end there, so i walked the last couple of blocks to calm myself down."

you couldn't suppress the moan building in your throat at his touch and his confession – your mind was running wild, "that's so hot."

"you are." he quipped, hands slowly tracing your sides and cupping your chest in his warm palms.

"this is way better than phone sex.”

lando shrugged as you ran your hands down his toned stomach, thumbs circling the indents just above his hips, “i’ll take anything with you – it’s all good to me.”

“you’re easy to please.”

“well, you make it easy – god, look at you,” he exhaled, brushing the loose strands of hair from your face and all you could do was smile.

“i’m glad you’re home, ya goof. it doesn't feel right without you here."

“me too, baby. meee too.” lando smiled and planted a longing kiss to your pouty lips.

more writing...

bit of backstory with this blurb; it was originally going to be a follow up to another fic i wrote called lost in japan and then got buried in the wip graveyard. somehow it resurfaced in my doc folder right when i needed it and i feel like it still kinda fits in the lost in japan universe - selfishly i love those characters. anyways, i hope you enjoyed it 💋

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #monzamashmasterlist #monzamusings ✨#formula 1 imagine

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rafeyscurtainbangs · 1 month ago

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"𝐘𝐨𝐮" - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: 𝐀𝐠𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐩 | 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 | 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 | 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐓𝐨𝐲𝐬

*Rafe is in his 40s

𝖈𝖔-𝖜𝖗𝖎��𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍: @nadvs

𝓇𝒶𝒻𝑒𝓎𝓈𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒷𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 - 𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓀 𝓉𝓌𝑜

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙/𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉𝖚𝖑𝖊

⚠️warnings contain spoilers ⚠️

Stalker!Rafe, Perv!Rafe, reader is Rafe’s friend’s sister, swearing, Rafe is a perv, age gap, public masterbation, fantasies about the reader, blood, mentions of murder, mentions of gun violence, mentions of general violence, suicide attempt, Rafe goes through her phone, peeping Tom, steals nude pictures, watches the reader masterbate, praise, Rafe’s POV

📖 College Professor Rafe Cameron has been dating you for months. You just don’t know it yet.💋

🔪 I smile when you look over your shoulder, the light pouring in from outside the lecture shining on you like a beacon. A fuckin’ angel on earth. My girl. 🔪

🔪Hello, You.🔪

6.8 K

Rafe’s POV:

“Oh, shit.” I look out on the lecture hall, crammed wall to wall—mostly old birds and a few young professors sprinkled amongst the AARP members. Jesus Christ. I match the eyes of one of my old lecturers from my time here. She gives me a little smile, and I nod, making a blush creep across her wrinkled cheeks before the lights fall low.

Do I deserve my name on a plaque on an office door at this fine university? Absolutely fucking not. But I paid for the building after all… American History; all first-years. You can’t mess that shit up.

I relax into the wall a bit, accepting my fate, lifting my coffee to my lips, taking a sip. “R.” I hear a familiar voice. A couple of heads turn toward me, leading me to a familiar face. I smile and chuckle as I shuffle toward the aisle, scooching through the crowd.

“Hey, man,” I greet him, shaking his hand before slipping my leather bag off my shoulders, taking a seat.

“R.C.,” he breathes, surprised to see me here, happy nonetheless.

“Zachary.”

“Guess they're hiring anyone these days,” he taunts, jabbing me in the side playfully, making me snort out a lazy laugh. I can’t lie; I’m happy to see him here. One friend is plenty. The guy is a fuckin’ nerd, but he’s a good person. “Pretty sure we both had class in this lecture hall,” he sighs blissfully, recalling a simpler time.

“Yeah, man. I think we did… How long have you been workin’ here for?” I ask between sips of coffee.

“Ten years.”

“Jesus, man,” I huff. We've been outta school for that long, huh?

“Nah, buddy,” he groans. “Longer. Started working here right after graduation. Been workin’ my way up the ladder ever since.”

“That’s great,” I nod, watching our Dean of Students strut across the hall's main floor. “You like it here?”

“Love it,” he smiles. “Why are you here?” Zach furrows his brows, asking the question he wanted to ask from the beginning. It’s no secret I got money to spare. There’s gotta be some reason I’m here. I’m sure he’s curious.

“I got bored. Thought I’d go back to school; just did it casually. N’here I am.”

“Here you are,” he echos through a weak laugh. “I mean, you own the place at this point. Huh?” Zach wiggles his eyebrows teasingly.

“Almost,” I chuckle, fully aware that the Cameron Library and The Cameron School of Business makes this current faculty position a little absurd.

“Glad to have you here. Truly,” he adds earnestly.

“Good to be here, man,” I smile as I relax into my seat a little more, getting ready for a day of gettin’ talked at, I’m sure. Zach adjusts in his seat, pulling his phone out of his slacks, thumbing over his messages.

Sis: Did you want anything to eat?

Zach: Nah. I’m fine.

Sis: Sounds good. Black coffee, two creams, two sugars?

Zach: Please and thank you.

“So…” I ask, my curiosity piqued. “Do you have any family here? You married or what-” I question, trying to be as calm as possible.

“Nah… Not really the marriage type. Family, yeah, my sister goes here now.”

”No shit?” I ask, trying not to be too interested, but I can’t help but catch his lock screen. Him and an absolutely stunning woman posed next to each other in front of the Golden Pavilion in Kyoto. They weren’t cuddled up with each other, just smiling… That smile. I run my hands down my shirt, smoothing out any wrinkles, raking my fingers through my hair, pushing it back slightly. Please be her.

“She’s a Kappa Girl.”

“Not a Kappa Girl,” I taunt through an exaggerated groan. He scoffs and rolls his eyes away. If it was anything like it was back in the day that house in nothin’ short of a brothel.

“She isn’t like that, Cameron,” he drones. “She doesn’t even live at the house. She’s got good grades. Like good good. Fuckin’ great actually—above a 4.0. They recruited her. The Kappas took some heat after gettin’ in trouble a few too many times. They were gonna lose their charter, so they switched from a social sorority to one based in education. Fuckin’ nerds,” he adds, making me chuckle, dissing her just like I had dissed him just a few short minutes before.

“Runs in the family. Huh?”

“Fuck off,�� he snickers. Zach hangs his head low, pitching the bridge of his nose as he lets out an exhausted sigh.

“You good?”

He nods and yawns, eyes set on the speaker up front. “These old bitches can go fuckin’ hard. We went to Lord Fletcher’s last night. Janice over there can drink you under the table… Six advils today already. Y/n is comin’ over with a coffee for me. Thank god. I’m hurtin’ over here,” he groans, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Zach’s eyes brighten as he looks toward the lecture steps. I feel my heart racing in my chest, my palms sweating, almost too nervous to look. I mean, that could have been his ex-girlfriend. But what if it’s the best-case scenario? What if it’s her? What if she’s you, princess? I turn my attention to the end of the aisle, watching that same girl shuffle along the line of people, clutching coffees, doing her best not to spill.

Fuck me.

My eyes travel up your body, your bare legs on full display, making my stomach fill with butterflies. You lean in, your sweet perfume amplified by the warmth of your flawless body from the late August heat. The second the coffee leaves your hand, I’m trying to get your attention on me. “I’m Rafe,” I smile, extending my hand toward you.

You juggle your books and your own coffee in your hands clumsily, extending a hand as well, making me instantly feel bad for putting you through the hassle, but the contact is worth it— soft and smooth, a firm grip on mine. You bat your long lashes at me. I can’t tell if you’re just trying to get a better look in the dim light or if you like what you see, but my heart is racing regardless.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rafe,” you reply, talking directly to me… “See you at home,” you whisper to Zach, who gives you a little wave as he swipes through his phone again. I smile when you look over your shoulder, the light pouring in from outside the lecture shining on you like a beacon. A fuckin’ angel on earth. My girl.

Hello, you.

It’s been sixty-seven days since we met—sixty-seven beautiful days of studying my favorite subject. You’re lovely, princess. Everything about you is. Even the little things you do out of habit. The way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you’re stressed, lips pursed, eyes wide. I know every look, every smile, taking each beautiful change of your face into memory. I can read you like a book.

I wanted it to be natural. How blatantly obvious would it be if I rushed into rekindling a friendship with your brother just to rush into a relationship with you? I had to ease in. Infiltrate the family; make myself a staple in your home so I could learn more about you.

There’s no one else better suited for you than me, baby. There is no one that will anticipate your needs like I can. Take care of you like I will. I’m going to make my move… I just need a little more time. I don’t want to lose the part of you that I get to see when you don’t know I’m watching.

I tilt back, relaxing into the doorframe of Zach’s office as I wait for you to stop by with his lunch. You’re so sweet. I know you’re cuttin’ it close with you’re next class. Fuck, my girl’s thoughtful. I smile to myself, lowering my head to not bring too much attention to myself.

“Who’s got you smilin’ like that, buddy?”

Shit. I look down at the phone, thumbing out of your Instagram, moving to Tinder. “Uh, I just matched with that bartender at Lord Fletchers. I think,” I mumble, giving him a slight smile.

“Juliette?” He asks surprisedly. “Isn’t she datin’ the head football coach?”

My stomach sinks, caught in a simple, stupid lie. “Nah, not her. A different one. I don’t know,” I brush him off, furthering my disinterest by pretending to swipe through some more.

Oh, shit. Here you come. I lift my eyes, matching yours. Your smile doubles as I catch your attention. “Hi, Rafe,” you sing. My name rolling off your lips so sweetly. Oh my god.

“Hi, y/n,” I respond warmly. Your hand snakes around my waist, squeezing me. “You ready for that test tomorrow?”

You sucks your teeth and shake your head. “Not ready enough to go on a date tonight, I don’t think. But I haven’t gone out in so long… I think it would be good for me to give my brain a rest the night before, don’t you?” You ask as your stunning eyes soften on mine, looking up at me for approval as I try my best not to fall apart in front of you or, at the very least, lose my shit. How did I miss this?

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” I press the words past my lips. You smile and nod before setting the food down on the desk. “Well, I gotta run-”

”See you tonight?” I add hastily, trying to get more info about your plans just in case.

“We got that intramural basketball game tonight,” Zach reminds me, making my palms sweat just knowing that if the date is early enough, I won’t be able to tag along or intervene.

“Chett said 9 PM at Little Angie’s.”

“Chett? As in Chett Ryan?” I ask in disbelief as you mention the star quarterback. A good-looking dude, but he’s a fucking idiot and a Grade-A asshole. You’re way too good for him. He doesn’t deserve you. Doesn’t even deserve to breathe your air-

“Yeah,” you answer through a smile, yanking me out of my thoughts.

“Well, I’m goin’ to Lexi’s house, so you and Chett will have the place to yourselves if you wanna come back after the bar,” Zach chimes in. My body trembles with rage, holding back every urge to crawl over the top of his desk and choke him out for even suggesting it.

“It’s our first date, so I don’t know if that’ll happen but thank you,” you smiles giddily, making me physically ill. ”Shit,” you hiss, your attention pulled to your watch, clocking the time. “I’m gonna be late. I’ll see you tomorrow, Rafe, for the test,” you add breathlessly as you race away, fleeing for class.

“You proctoring tests now?” Zach laughs lightly, furrowing his brows.

“Ah, yeah,” I whirr, scratching at my 5 o’clock shadow, trying to find an excuse while also trying to gather my emotions as my whole world crumbles around me. “I-I owed Steve a favor for covering my class last week,” I stutter, confessing half the truth. Sure, Steve subbed for me, but only so I could follow y/n on her trip to Georgia Tech for the football game to ensure she was safe… Zach should be thanking me, honestly. Fuck off. The football game… I bite at the skin on my lip, putting together the pieces of why you had even gone in the first place. For him. For Chett… No, baby. Why?

“Cameron?” Zach chimes in. “You’re a little more dazed than usual, friend. You good?” He asks through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah, man. I’m good,” I nod. “It’s only a few hours.”

“What?” Zach asks confusedly.

“Proctoring…”

”Yeah…” He nods, his face laced with concern for me; I don’t even know how long I was drowning in my thoughts of her. I’m sure he’s wondering what’s going through my mind— why I’m acting weird. “You sure you're good? You seem upset.”

”Nah, man. I’m good. Just have some shit goin’ on I need to take care of,” I smile softly. “See you tonight?”

“Yeah… See you tonight, brother.”

“These are nice,” I breathe as I run my fingers along the pink petals with a smile, the spray of roses sitting pretty amongst the rest. “These, thanks.” I pull them out, handing them to the attendant, finishing into my back pocket for my wallet.

I head out the door, walking out onto the street; the busy college town teaming with students, pouring in and out of the bars. Cigarette smoke wafts all around, competing with the aroma of the late-night food trucks. I look ahead, catching the Little Angie’s neon boot sign kicking ahead. My excitement builds as I get closer and closer. You’re here. I look down at my phone, catching your location in the heart of the bar—my girl.

Shit. I look down at my other hand, tossing the wildflowers Chett had gotten you. He doesn’t know you at all… He doesn't know what you like. He doesn't deserve you. No one does. No one but me.

I push through the front door, heading back toward the bar as I match your pin to my surroundings. My eyes pull taunt as I try to spot you through the thick crowd. I take a seat, ordering a beer before turning my attention back to the search. My eyes work across the low-lit room, scouring for you. I can’t believe you’re still here after he stood you up. It’s almost like you knew I’d come and save you, princess.

There you are. Fuck, are you even real?

When I’m around you I swear I forget how to breathe. I find myself having to tear myself away—telling myself that staring too hard will do nothing but bring attention to the obvious, but I am so in love. How do I even look away? You’re perfect.

You looks sad. I know that’s my fault, pretty girl, but I promise I’ll make it all better. You rest your cheek in your hand, slumped over in your seat, swirling your vodka cranberry defeatedly. Your beautiful eyes glisten. I can’t tell if it’s just sheer beauty or if they might be glossed with tears. Your eyes shut heavily, shoulders relaxing a little more as you submit to your drunken state.

Oh, sweetheart. You need me.

“Can I close out my tab?” I ask the bartender, who gives me a little nod and a smile. I turn my attention back to you, watching as you sway ever so slightly with the music pouring from the speakers.

“Here you are, sir,” the bartender calls. I turn fast, scribbling a tip and a total. My stomach falls as I pull my hand away, leaving behind a red thumbprint, remnants of my run-in with Chett lingering. Fuck. I grab the slip of paper off the bar top, brushing my hand along my dark-wash jeans, thumbing through my wallet to grab some cash instead, tossing a tip on the counter in exchange. I push off the bar, walking toward my girl, checking myself as best as I can in the darkness to make sure that I don’t miss anything else, catching a few specks of blood on my white shirt. Shit. I grab the zipper of my quilted jacket, hiding the mess.

What was I thinking? I was so excited about gettin’ to you that I didn’t even think about cleanin’ up. I look down at my right hand: split knuckles, bloodied and bruised. I tug down my sleeve, just praying there isn’t any more I can’t see. “Y/n?”

Your eyes lift to mine, softening and welling with tears. “Rafey,” you slur out a whimper, eyes pinching shut. Your tears tumble down your cheeks as you try to get out your next few words to no avail.

”What’s goin’ on, princess?” I ask gently as I sit beside you, rubbing soft circles on your back.

“Ugh…” You humpfs. “I got stood up.” You hiccup before rolling your eyes in annoyance with Chett and your own emotions. “I can’t believe I’m even cryin’ over him, Rafey. I know he’s an asshole.” You cry, making my heart melt as you use that little nickname not once but twice.

“He is,” I laugh lightly, making you nod and sigh.

“Are you… M’shit. I’m sorry,” you mumble. “M’kinda drunk.”

“Hey. Hey. It’s alright,” I coo.

“Are you meeting a date?” You ask, and I swear I can see a new sort of sadness in your eyes at the idea of it. I follow your gaze, eyeing the arrangement of roses in my hand.

“Oh, me?” I stall. “Uh… No. I-uh… I came in here after our game. I saw you hangin’ out here for a while. Kinda put two-and-two together. N’when I went outside to have a cig, I bought them off some guy on the street.” I look back to you, my whole story all for not as you practically fall asleep at the table, your beautiful face propped up and smushed in your hand. “Bought them for you, honey,” I sigh blissfully as I use a pet name I've always wanted to use knowing tomorrow it wouldn't matter.

“Thank you, Rafey,” you whisper. Three times… “So - So… So good to me.”

“Let’s get you outta here. Huh?” I ask as I reach into my wallet, pulling out a hundred, tossing it on the table. You close your eyes and nod your heavy head.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” I breathe as I scoop my hand around your waist, lifting you to your feet. You melt into me, resting your head on my chest, snuggling in. I can’t help but lean down, pressing a kiss on your hair. I breathe you in, relishing this simple moment with you. “I love you, princess…” You look up at me, smiling sweetly. I hold my breath, even if you heard me say that there’s no way you’ll remember tomorrow. But still…

“Can we get pizza?” You ask, making me laugh.

“Anything you want you get, sweetheart.”

I know there’s nothing more to worry about, but I can’t help but get a little jealous knowing you dressed this way for Chett. You sway to the music on your record player, drunkenly singing along to the track between bites of pizza. You’re happier than when you were at the bar; your sadness before I came is long gone. You flash me a smile, setting my heart ablaze, pointing at me playfully as you circle your hips to the beat, dropping it to the floor, showing me the perfect glimpse of your plump ass. Fuck me. I bare with the pain, not wanting to make it blatantly obvious that my cock is strained in my pants.

“Help me?” You pout as you walk to me, lifting your hands in the air.

”With what…” My voice trails away as you step even closer. Your tits line up with my eyes from my seated position on the foot of your bed. My hands instinctively reach up, resting on your hips, testing the waters.

“Pajamas.”

“Oh - Oh. Of course,” I stammer as I lift your shift dress over your head. I hold back a moan, my head and mind racing out of control as I stand this close to you, the girl of my dreams in nothing but your bra and panties. And not just any panties, the panties I had taken from you last week. The panties I had wrapped around my cock that I had cum all over more times than I could count. Of course, I washed them and put them back, but what luck. It’s fate. Just stay calm.

You lets out a sleepy little yawn, stretching slightly, your back arching. Your cleavage pops a little more against the dainty lace; my eyes strain as I refuse to blink. I run my hand down your side, watching as goosebumps spread across your bare skin at my touch. Your nipples peak, teasing me under the barely-there fabric.

Help her, Rafe. I swallow hard, focusing on the task at hand, fighting back everything that I want to do. You move a little closer, slotting yourself between my thighs. I know it will be over if I look up and match your eyes. You’ll be too embarrassed in the morning if I do anything more—if I do what I need. I can feel your eyes on me. Your hand moves higher and higher, your soft touch cupping my chin, guiding my eyes to yours.

Holy shit. You smile down at me, your eyes hazed with lust and liquor. You run your thumb along my bottom lip, biting your own. I’m dreaming. I have to be. “Thank you,” you smile, your voice coming out so crisp and clear. This is no dream… This is just heaven on earth. Deep breath. Help her get into her pajamas and let her sleep it off. Tomorrow. If she genuinely wants me now, she’ll want me tomorrow. She needs me. Her trust is in me. I can’t mess this up. I need her too badly.

“Of course, sweetheart,” I whisper, allowing myself to drink you in a little more. I mean, I don’t want you to think I am not thoroughly enjoying this… This is the best moment of my life. Of course, after meeting her, that is.

I reach over on the bed, grabbing your satin pajama top. You take a little breath, going to say something, holding back, settling on a smile instead. I bet you were gonna ask for something from me. Probably wanting me to take off that pretty little bra of yours instead of giving her clothes to put on. I want to be your knight in shining armor tonight. I want to protect you; I want to keep you safe.

Tomorrow night, princess. I promise.

I’m addicted. I’m down bad. I’m in way, way too deep, but I can’t stop. I’ll never stop. You have no clue what you do to me. You have no idea how much time I have invested in you— in us. I have never been more fulfilled, princess. This is my destiny. You are mine; you just don’t know it yet…

You smile at me sheepishly, tucking some hair behind your ear before putting pen to paper and checking in for your test. You're hungover. I can tell—dark circles painted under your beautiful eyes, and the usual soft glow of your skin dimmed. You’re smart… You’ll have no problem taking this test, and if you do, it’s nothing I can’t fix for you.

You walk over to a locker, stripping off your purse and jacket, checking your phone before stuffing it inside as well. Holy shit… You shut the door, forgoing the lock altogether. Fuck, you’re too good to me, sweetheart. I’m sure you want me to take a peek. Don’t you? A smirk tugs on my lips, arms crossing over my chest as I stare you down.

You stride toward me, shoulders slumped. I’m sure you’re gonna apologize. I smile at you, wordlessly telling you I know what you’ll will say. You laugh weakly, letting out a deep, self-deprecating sigh. “Sorry about last night, Rafe. Thank you,” you smile sweetly, your voice just above a hush, not wanting anyone else to hear.

“You’re alright, Y/n. Glad I could get you home. Are you feelin’ alright?” I ask as I step a little closer.

“M’a little hungover,” you sigh. “I—I never get like that, I swear-”

“I know you don’t,” I stop you. Your brows rumple, my tone a little more knowing than you expected. ”Your brother mentioned you don’t really drink like that,” I correct myself, and you smile.

“Well, I’ll see you later, Rafe. Thank you.” You reach out, giving my bicep a squeeze that has my eyes darting to your hand on me. Oh fuck. You're walking toward the testing room before I can look up at you again. The door fans shut behind you, leaving me alone with the equivalent of your fuckin’ teenage diary. Everything I could want to know about you that I don’t know yet is on here. Please be unlocked.

“Shit,” I hiss, slamming my fist against the locker, eyes darting around fast as the sharp sting of regret pierces through me at my outburst. Pull it together, Cameron. I close my eyes, doing my best to compose myself as I tuck your phone at my side, walking back toward the desk. I look at you through the privacy glass. My girl is none the wiser—I smile as you answer the next question. Her birthday. Keep it simple. That's gotta be it. It’s not like she's got shit to hide.

I type in the six-digit code, my tension melting away; shoulders relaxing as I crack the code without any effort at all. Gotta hit the big four: messages, search history, pictures, Instagram. Don't get too greedy. I feel my cock twitch at the thought of this being in your hand. My mind instantly sails away to the shit you looks at that you’d probably delete your search history for. Hopefully, I caught you on an off day. Focus. Focus. Focus. I look over my shoulder as you breeze past the next question.

Messages, first.

Nothing crazy. A few to her friends, her brother, and a lab partner. My blood turns cold as I see Chett’s name. I click into your messages, teeth grinding, fist clenching as I read through the exchange.

Chett: you free tonight?

Y/n: I have a huge test tomorrow I'm sorry! Friday?

Chett: yeah we can do something on Friday too

Chett: cmon pretty. I owe you a beer

Y/n: just a beer? 😉

Chett: fuck… that's a yes?? Lets go to dinner then I owe you so so much

Y/n: I can't be out late tho

Chett: I know. I got you. I'm lucky ok. I know how you are.

Y/n: what does that mean?? 😂

Chett: your a good girl

Chett: i’ll meet you a little angies at 8. I've got workouts late ok??

Y/n: okay 💕

Chett: you better not stand me up

Y/n: never ☺️

Chett: on my way

Y/n: I'm at the bar

Y/n: found a table. We still on for 8?

Y/n: ???

Y/n: are you okay?

Y/n: just ran into your buddies. They said you ran into Kenzie on the street. Just fuck off alright? Why would you ask me out if you two were still a thing?

Y/n: I knew you were an asshole

Okay. Okay. Shit. My hands tremble as I read and reread your words. Just a clusterfuck of feelings seeing you this excited, this angry; this upset over that asshole. He ran into Kenzie? I'm sure they caught up. I'm sure he had second thoughts about your date. About you? How could someone have second thoughts about you? I knew I did you a favor.

I click into the search history. Cleared. God damnit. That leaves two more pieces to the puzzle. Instagram and pictures. I pull up your socials, thumbing to the shit only I get to see. The DMs are the same as your texts; it's nothing crazy. Search bar… I click into it, seeing your recent searches. Chett… You motherfucker. Haunting me, you goddamn dick- Oh…

Rafe Cameron

I blink a few times, pinching my eyes closed before fluttering them open as I see MY name on YOUR screen. “No fucking way,” my voice comes out needy and hoarse, cracking with all the want I feel for you. I gasp for a breath, filling my lungs with needed air. How is this happening? I rub my hand across my mouth, snuffing out my smile. Jesus Christ. Best day of my fuckin’ life.

I look over my shoulder, praying I have enough time to browse your hidden folder in your camera roll. Five questions left. I open the folder, my hand instantly reaching for the edge of the desk, my rock-hard cock finally giving way as I cum in my slacks at the sight of you in lingerie. My heart pounds in my ears and chest as I thumb through the rest, watching in horror as a wet, warm spot forms on my khakis. Fuck. There’s five more pictures… My goddess. My fuckin’ princess… Look at you, baby. Two more questions left. Put the fuckin’ phone back, Rafe. The phone trembles as I unhide all five, moving quickly to your messages before typing in my number, sending them to myself, deleting everything fast. I swear I could’ve cum again just feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket, knowing what I have saved for myself.

I swipe everything closed as I walk back to the locker bay, stuffing the phone inside your purse, slamming the door shut before the testing door swings open. I turn my body away, walking toward the exit, checking on a knock that never happened; turning my body in the opposite direction before matching your eyes. “So, how did it go?” I smile, positioning myself so you can’t see the absolute mess you caused.

“Good, actually,” you sighs, relief laced in your tone and demeanor as you pop open your locker. I step behind the desk, leaning into the counter just enough to ensure that my little secret is safe.

Good girl.

I swear I can’t go to bed without my nightly ritual; I stand outside your window, hidden just out of view, cloaked in the darkness of the hedges gathered around the perimeter of your apartment. Some nights I have the pleasure of being in your space; other nights, I settle for the next best thing, but honestly, even here is paradise.

Some nights, you stay up late, the apples of your cheeks glowing in the dim of your room as you browse your phone; other nights, you moves through your apartment chatting on the phone with your friends, smiling and laughing, every fiber of my being just wishing it was me on the other line. But on special nights, nights like this, your hand slips into your night stand pulling out your favorite vibrator, playing with your pussy like I could only dream of doing.

I never get to see what goes on underneath the covers or hear the sweet noises you make, but I get to see the pleasure painted all over your face. I can’t help but pull my cock out of my pants, stroke my dick while you work on yourself. Are you thinking about me? I always dreamed you were, but after seeing your search history, it’s not out of the realm of possibility. What if you're saying my name? My beautiful girl.

“Fuck, baby,” I pant as you grab the covers, throwing them off your body, my precum mixing with my sweaty palm as I take in the sight before me. I watch as the silicon cock glistens with your slick, making me spit on my dick to mirror the sight. My fist works over my dick, whimpering and moaning your name as I keep your pace. My thigh muscles tremble as I fixate on your every movement.

I know I should walk away, but there’s no force on this earth strong enough to pull me away from this. I bite my lip as you throw your head back into your pillow, back arching off the mattress.

And just like that, I fall deeper and deeper into my mind. “Where are we fuckin’ tonight, princess?” I mumble, envisioning us in the same room. “My office? Fuck, you’re bad, sweetheart? You sure? Sure you can’t wait until we get home? God damn, angel. You need it that bad? Need daddy’s dick right here, right now?” I moan as my muscles clench tight.

I swear I draw blood, pinching my bottom lip between my teeth as you drag your hand up, pulling your shirt with it, exposing your perfect breasts. You squeeze and twist your nipple, circling softly just like I would. “My lips will be on you, I swear to Christ,” I moan, picturing my parted lips sucking down on your tits; catching your breasts in my mouth as they bounce.

“Stop hidin’, honey,” I grunt as your legs draw closer, and I swear you heard me because your thighs widen on the mattress, splaying out for me and only me. What I wouldn't pay to bury myself in your cunt, princess. I’ve sucked on your panties more times than I can count; memorized your taste. I need the real thing. I wanna feel the warmth of your body against me, tongue pumping in and out of that tight little hole of yours.

Your mouth falls open, chest heaving, muffled cries heard through the glass. Just a whisper, but my ears have never been more blessed. I look down at my cock for a split second, just enough time to run some spit down on my throbbing head, making me hiss out a breath. I make a tight fist, imagining myself sinking into your slick pussy as you lay on a pile of my class papers, a little pleated skirt riding up around your waist, your wet cunt just begging for me to fill it, sucking me in.

“Such a sloppy cunt. Fuck… Perfect for me,” I mutter, returning my eyes to you, watching as your arousal leaks out of your pussy as you continue to stroke, dirtying the sheets below. I run my hand across my sweaty forehead, slicking back my bangs in the process, switching my hold to my balls to play with them, trying desperately to cum with you for your second time. “Slow down, Y/n… Shittt. Pussy’s too good. You wanna come with daddy. Don't you? Yeah you do. Atta baby.”

Another muffled moan bleeds through the glass. I need to hear you. Fuck, I need to know what you sound like. I release my cock with a panting gasp, fumbling for the glass, resting my clammy palms against it as I hold my breath, cracking it ever so slightly. There we go. I move even closer, resting a hand on the brick wall, eyes rolling back in my skull as I wrap my fingers around my girthy dick again.

“Rafe…” She pants, and my eyes double, stomach falling, breath fleeing my chest, drowning in my own pleasure as my name leaves your lips. Say it again. Fucking say it, baby. Tears of joy fill my eyes as warmth spreads from my head to my toes.

I listen closely, catching the sounds of your sopping core squelching through your room, cries and sighs of pleasure coming back to back as I bite my shirt, holding back my own. “Just like that, Rafey. Fuckkk, daddy. I’m cumming,” you cry in a throaty, fucked-out voice that has me cumming harder than I ever have in my life, ropes, and ropes of cum painting the brick wall of your apartment building as I watch your finish.

I look down in exhaustion as my cum rolls down the wall, before closing my eyes in utter bliss, just imagining it leaking out of your cunt. My goddamn pussy. “Tomorrow-” I pant as I lift my trembling hand, pointing my cum-coated finger against the glass with a smug smile that I wish you could see. “M’taking you out and then we’re comin’ back here and I’m going to make every one of your fantasies come true, honey. M’gonna be all you need. I swear,” I coo.

I watch you as you lay there, hands trailing your beautiful body, calming yourself down with touch. You're lonely, baby. You don't need to be… Let me take care of you. You let out a sleepy yawn, stretching out on the mattress.

“Fuck,” I grumble, post-nut clarity setting in as I realize what the fuck I just did, regretting none of it, just hoping that someone didn’t see me. The street is empty. Just perfect. I grab my boxers, pulling them up as you tuck your toy into your nightstand, fastening my pants as you snuggle into your sheets.

No.

Your eyes lock with mine, and with that, time stands still. My heart hammers in my chest as your expression changes from confusion to terror. You let out a blood-curdling scream as I try to pull myself away, but I’m frozen with fear. Run. Fuck! You fumble for your phone as I walk away from the window, my eyes never leaving you until I’m falling back on the curb, struggling to my feet, sprinting as fast as my feet will take me.

“I’ve ruined everything. What the hell have I done?” My heart shatters into a million pieces as I run down the block, charging toward my car as I fight my keys out of my pocket. Tears and snot wet my face, my whole body sheened with sweat, shivering with adrenaline. ”Not only am I going to lose her, but I’m gonna lose everything else. My job. My reputation. Everything. Fucking everything.” I slam my finger against the keyless start; engine roaring as I peel out onto the street, trying to put distance between me and you.

What the hell can I say to make this better? No one will understand. I can’t fucking help it. I can’t help who I am. I can’t help that I love you. That I want to keep you safe. Is that a crime? I’m obsessed with you. It’s like— I think about you all the time. Every second of my fucking life. But isn’t that what love should be like?

I let out a shaky breath, catching my reflection in the rearview mirror, my cheeks soaked with tears, eyes glassy with emotion. If I can’t have you, I don’t want to live. I don’t… I-I can’t. My foot slams on the gas, barreling down the freeway toward the bridge, watching as the needle on the speedometer climbs higher and higher as cars swerve and dart out of my path.

What is the point if I can’t have you?

I’m nothing without you.

My knuckles ghost white, as I blink the tears out of my eyes, sobbing like a child as the speedometer blasts past 100. I feel the dismare in my heaving chest plaguing me like a virus, the only warmth in my heart gone now that I’ve lost you. Just fucking empty—goddamn hollow. The only thing I’ve ever truly wanted is gone. You were the best thing that has ever been mine and I didn’t even get to tell you… I lift my hand to wipe away the tears as the road blurs before me.

Days of watching you, not one moment forgotten. I was almost a part of your world. Why did I wait so long? Why did I wait until it was too late? You were saying my name? You wanted me just as bad as I wanted you…

The world around me gets a little brighter as I pull onto the bridge, illuminated with streetlamps, before the world dives off into the dark waters below.

What if she feels guilt? What if she blames herself? What if this ruins hers too?

I thread through the gap of cars, vehicles slamming on their breaks around me, unable to swerve on the bridge like they were on the road before making every move sharper; more erratic—the line thinning, between life and death.

Maybe she’ll forgive me after I’m dead…

RING. RING. RING.

I look down at my phone, seeing your brother's name light up the screen. “Hello?” I choke the word out, biting my lips to hold back my sniffles and sobs as I speed closer and closer to the edge, waiting for him to blow out my speakers. ‘ASSHOLE. PERV. STALKER. PSYCHOPATH-’

“Hey, Rafe. You good, man?” He asks worriedly, his gentle voice pulling me out of the pit. My foot pulls off the glass as I’m hit with a sliver of hope, before slamming on the breaks. My tires screech as my car skids across the bridge, stomach falling as I get so close to the edge that the grille of my Cadillac kisses the guardrail, nothing but blackness and open water before me.

“M’Yeah. Yeah. I’m good.”

You dive into my arms, hands wrapped tightly around my waist as you bury your head in my chest. Your warm, wet tears soak through my shirt, blessing my skin as I hold you close. “Thank you so much for coming, Rafe,” you sniffle.

“Of course, Y/n,” I whisper as you tremble in my arms like a leaf. “Did you get a good look at him?”

You shake your head, letting out a frail little sigh. “No…”

“Go inside. Aight? You’ve been through enough. Let me check it out. I’ll be in in a second. Okay?” You nod, looking up at me with doe-eyes and a trembling lip. I cup your tear stained cheek in my hand, brushing your skin nice and soft. You tilt into me, needing me closer. “I’m sorry you went through this… But, it’s just some creep. I’m not gonna leave you tonight. I swear.”

“Thank you,” you whimper.

“‘Course, sweetheart.”

“Now, you, get inside and try to relax. Huh? It’ll only take me a second.” You nod and step inside, holding my hand until the last moment.

I walk down the stairs, strolling through the landscaping to your window. I suck my teeth, looking down at the stained brick before lifting my hand, running my thumb along my tongue, scrubbing the little cum mark I left with my finger. “All clear,” I whisper, smiling to myself as my night takes a turn for the better.

I walk up your steps, stepping into the apartment as you pour a glass of wine for you and I. “Thank you, Rafe. I’m so glad you’re here,” you smile, your voice weak as you walk toward me in your satin pajamas, passing me a glass.

“Call me anytime you need me. Okay?” I smile as I reach my hand out for you. You tangle your fingers in mine, moving a little closer, rising on your tippy toes, pressing a soft kiss on my cheek.

The two of us walk over to the couch, taking a seat. You snuggle into my chest just like you did at the bar. Your body relaxes in mine. The adrenaline and excitement of the night wears off fast, and it’s not long before your eyes start to beat closed. I don’t think I can sleep. I don’t want to. Truthfully, I could stay this way forever with you. Your soft sounds fill my ears as I focus on your breathing and the shape of your body in mine. I couldn’t dream of a more perfect moment with you, sweetheart. My girl. Mine. A satisfied smile plays on my lips as I reach over, flicking on the evening news.

“Hello, my name is Belle Lee, reporting live from the downtown district. An investigation is underway after a University student was found dead with multiple gunshot wounds. College officials have identified the victim as 22-year-old Chett Lee from Tampa Bay, Florida. This is an active investigation. Any tips or other information can be directed to the local authorities. Currently, there are no known suspects in this gruesome murder.”

A smirk pulls on my lips as I flick off the TV, darkness falling all around us. I lift you into my arms, holding you close, walking you to your room before setting you down on the mattress. I rub my thumb across you pillowy lips, not wanting to push it too far by kissing you goodnight. My belly stirs as I think about the cum I had just cleaned off the glass, any reminents now hanging on your perfect lips.

I’ll just have to settle for that tonight.

I stroke your hair gently, brushing it off your beautiful face. Just leave, Rafe… Just—I succumb to my urges, kissing your forehead instead, lingering as long as I possibly can before pulling away. Your eyes match mine, staring up at me.

“Stay.”

@nadvs it was so amazing brainstorming with you. I am such a fan of your work and you are such an amazing person 💕 thank you babe 😭.

Taglist (if your name is crossed out, it was not pulling up an account): @rafesthroatbaby @loserboysandlithium @cl4uus @theeternaloptimistt @starkeysprincess @gri959 @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @aariahnaa@pinkqutz @hyperfixationgirl @akobx @daryldixon83 @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii @oxpogues4lifexo @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @savayvayblr-blog @unrealmirrorball @romaescapes @cades-outsider @ch4rrykisses @namelesslosers @anamiad00msday @buckybarnessweetheart @floredaqueen

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anonimusunnoaniswriting · 6 months ago

Text

Sukuna "asshole to the world, sweetheart to his girl" Ryomen

🎀minors and ageless blogs will be blocked 🎀

Pairing: Yakuza!Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

Genre: Smut, dark hero.

Word Count: 1450

Warnings: first off, fucking sukuna himself is a warning on his own so let's just start there. Possessive Sukuna, dark sukuna, yakuza sukuna, shitty boss, mean fucking asshole boss, violence, against boss, dacryphillia, p in v sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, read at your own discretion.

Summary: Sukunas heard you cry because of your boss one too many times. He takes matters into his own hands

A/N: This absolutely SPECTACULAR ART is by @innaillus and you can find the original here.

I want to thank her, not only for allowing me to use this as a banner but also for making such amazing art and sharing it with us. ♥️

This is a purely self indulgent fic. If you don't like it, please don't read it. I had a shitty week and needed a place to cool off.

Sukuna Ryomen glared down at your boss. He’d come in to pick you up and heard the creature screaming at you for something he already knew wasn’t your fault. You’d told him about the trouble you were having with your co-workers who slacked off and your shitty fucker of a boss who for some reason didn’t tell them off, but instead unloaded his anger on you. This would be the last time this pathetic vermin made you cry, he vowed.

He pushed open the door to your small office and stalked in. You stood in the corner trying to make yourself as small as possible, silent tears streaming down your face as your boss kept berating you – not even noticing his presence. One of the other workers tried to step in his way but he shoved them aside like they were nothing more than window curtains. He placed himself in between you and the balding middle aged man who dared to call himself your boss. “Hey nimrod, she doesn’t work for you anymore. Don’t fucking yell at her.”

The man cowered. Sukuna was taller than him and his crossed arms made his thick muscles ripple under his skin.

“Ryo…” you whispered

“Wh-who let th-this man in here? Sir, th-this is an office space. You n-need to leave.” your boss sneered at your saviour.

Sukuna merely smirked at you and pulled you into his side placing his lips on the top of your head in a chaste kiss. “Yeah, don't worry, I’ll be going pretty soon. Breathing the same air as you is making me feel nauseated. Can't believe the patience my baby girl had with your shit-ass, fucker” his first met the man's stomach with a sickening squelching crunch, and your now ex-boss, crumpled onto the floor in a heap.

“I'm gon-gonna call the cops on you asshole’ he croaked out.

Sukuna just laughed. “Have at it, ya great ballsack.”

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

When Sukuna came to pick you up from work that day he had planned the night down to a T. He’d wanted to take you to a new movie that you'd been itching to see but hadn't had the time. He would follow that with a fancy sushi dinner at the city's best restaurant and then take you to the outskirts where there was a nice little viewpoint he had discovered where he planned on showing you the stars – in more than one way…

But when you didn't come out at your specified time, nor answer the cute message he’d sent you – Where you at, kitty-kat? – Sukuna decided to investigate and came across your asshole of a boss yelling at you. He’d had enough. You’d been coming home and complaining about him and even once returned in tears. It took everything he had to not rip the bastard’s throat out. But he was done with you being abused. You deserved better. Which is exactly what he told you now as you lay with him on the hood of his car.

The plans had been altered slightly, you would be watching the movie with him the next day. He’d skipped the fancy sushi and instead opted for your favourite comfort food – Chinese cuisine. Slurping down saucy noodles, and munching on crispy gyoza always made you feel better he knew and he found himself smiling at your joy. He’d then driven you to his secret viewpoint. You sat there on the hood of his car with him beside you. In the distance, the pretty lights of Tokyo lit up the horizon and reflected off your lover's red eyes. Above you, the stars twinkled in their own magic…

Something about you had him wrapped around your finger. One of the most feared yakuza, putty in your hands. Of course, no one knew the connection. It was all kept hushed for your convenience.

“Kitty-kat?” Sukuna called to you and you looked up at your man. “You know— you know I’m rich enough to support both of us easily right?”

You hummed. “Yes, but I don’t wanna be some dainty housewife, sitting and waiting for my husband to come home and serve him dinner Ryo! I have a whole ass degree that a lot of money was spent on, I’d like to use it babe!”

“Husband?”

“What?”

“You said, husband. Not boyfriend. Or SO. Or partner. You said husband.”

“Yeah… I said husband…”

“You wanna marry me?”

“I mean, yeah, eventually right?”

Sukuna crashed his lips into yours in a heated kiss; all teeth and tongue. He pulled your body close, pressing against you. “I want you so bad right now, future wife. I want you so fucking badly.” He half growled in your ear.

“You have me Ryo. I’m right here.” you replied. You tugged at Sukunas pants and he unbuckled his belt. Sukuna grinded against your thigh while kissing you. His hands tugged at the buttons on your blouse, undoing them as he went. You could feel the bulge growing in his jeans. He kissed down from your lips, to your jaw, to your neck down to the valley of your breasts.

“I wanna fuck you.” He looked at you with a lidded gaze “May I? I won’t be able to stop if we go further than this kitty-kat.”

You lifted your leg to rub against his clothed cock. “I’d leave you right now if you didn’t, Sukuna Ryomen. So fuck me already.” Sukuna flashed you a fanged smile and dipped his head pulling down your bra and freeing your breasts. He bit and licked and sucked, actions that were sure to leave marks on you. Further south his fingers pushed aside your panties and found entrance. He slowly worked his way into you, rubbing gentle circles in your skin. You allowed yourself to let go and dirty moans slipped out from your lips. Your fingers tangled in his pink hair – so soft, so smooth.

Once he had you dripping, he lay back down and ordered, “Sit on my face, and suck my cock while you’re at it.”

You followed, undoing his zipper and pulling his boxers and jeans off his semi-hard cock. You tentatively licked his head as you positioned your pussy right about his face. Sukuna pushed your skirt up and ripped your panties with a practised ease, pulling your hips down to his face. He loved having you like that. Every time he flicked his tongue against your clit your pussy would visibly tighten. You’d drool down the length of his cock hypnotised. Tongue flat against it as you struggled to maintain composure. It wouldn’t take long for him to make you cum all over his face for the first time. Legs quivering and hips shaking he brought you down again, laying you on the hood for him.

He lined up his cock – now rock hard from your mouth – with your entrance and sank into you. Slowly pushing his bulbous head, followed by his girthy length. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

Sukuna thrust up into you. Your lips were hot and burning. You felt a wave of emotion come through and tears welled up in your eyes.

“Fuck Ryo— feels s’good!”

Sukuna snarled and increased his pace. His eyes glinted dangerously. “Feels good, huh kitty-kat! Gonna make you mine. No man’s gonna dare fuck with you again.” His movements were rough and jagged but drew out the pleasure in your core. The tightly wound knot in your abdomen built up with each movement, each drawn out pull, each hard thrust. You arched your back desperate to have him more, more, more!

Your second climax hit just as Sukuna grabbed a fistful of your hair. Your cunt spasmed, clasping around him and you cried out his name in a debauched prayer.

Sukuna looked more composed than he felt. His cock throbbed inside you, attuned to the flutters of your pussy. Just because you’d come didn’t mean he would stop. He chased his own release inside of you pulling your hair back, devouring your lips. His cock bullied you to the point of overstimulation. Tears ran down your cheeks again but this time they were those of pleasure.

He came, towering over you, eyes squeezed shut, head buried in the crook of your neck. His giant frame collapsed onto you and he carefully rolled off to the side so he wouldn't crush you.

“So, about that husband thing…”

You turned to look at him, blushing. “Ryo…”

He held up a ring; the ring his father left him. Gold work, carved into a dragon that held a shiny black pearl in its claws.

“I’ll get you a prettier one later, I promise but for now…” he took a deep breath. “Marry me, kitty-kat?”

A/N: please note this was a very hurried creation and edit, if you do find any errors or typos feel free to point them out KINDLY. Thank you for reading.

As always likes and reblogs are much appreciated and comments will earn you kissies!

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idksmtms · 15 days ago

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Plié, Jeté, Relevé (Ballet Master!Cillian Murphy x Ballerina!reader)

A/N: Here you go my lovelies! I have literally never done ballet in my entire life, so any knowledge of this has come from watching tiktoks of ballerinas, movies with ballerinas in them, or my best guesses… anywaysssss, I hope you enjoy it!

Also, would highly recommend watching the performance of Still Life at the Penguin Cafe on youtube, the music and the dancing is *chefs kiss*

Summary: You were ready to admit that you hadn’t been at your best the past week or so, but surely you hadn’t been so bad as to deserve this much wrath from Mister Murphy…

Word count: 3,750

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, mean!Cillian, SMUT, dub-con bc of the power imbalance (?), fingering (technically?), humiliation (not as a kink tho), only reader orgasms, depiction of toxic teaching environment, (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: This is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

If anyone out there believed in the stereotype that all Irish people were happy and jovial then they clearly hadn’t met your ballet master. The man may speak with a lilting musical accent but there was not a thing jovial or happy about him. The master was harsh, verging on cruel. If anyone was caught slacking even the littlest bit, something that would go unnoticed by the rest of the troupe, his voice would crack like a whip through the studio.

Recently, that whip had been directed at you. You knew you weren’t doing your best. You had hit a rough patch in your entire life. You had been late more times than ever before, more times than you ever would usually be, more times than you would like. And your dancing had been affected as well. Your posture wasn’t straight enough, your pliés weren’t deep enough, your toes not pointed enough. Everything was going wrong, and while you had hoped it wasn’t noticeable, Mr Murphy never failed to find every SINGLE one of your mistakes.

Today differed in no way. You had dilly-dallied a little too long while getting ready in the morning, only to end up running late for rehearsal. It was no more than five minutes, but from the start of training it was the rule that all ballerinas must be lined up by the barre at exactly ten o’clock every day. For every minute you were late, the worse your punishment got. Usually if someone hit the five minute mark, they went home and sprained their ankle on purpose for an excuse.

At four minutes, you had run into the hallway outside the studio and thrown your bag onto the ground, disregarding the sound of your water bottle rolling away and one of your keychains cracking under the weight of your things. At five, you were throwing the door open and running inside, slipping into the back of the line and getting into first position.

Mr Murphy paused in his speech to gaze at you. You stared straight ahead, refusing to look directly at him. Slowly, his eyebrow rose, scrutinising you with a frown that made shame curl in your stomach and tears make themselves known behind your eyes. He slowly brought his hands together, rubbing them as he sighed and began shaking his head.

“Kind of you to join us,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he made his way closer to you, stepping leisurely, dragging out the fear that made your throat hurt. He stood a few feet away, staring at you in that impenetrable way of his, ice eyes sharp and painful wherever they gazed. He clapped his hands once. “Girls, turn and look at Ms. Y/L/N.” He waited until each of them had turned in their spots, some craning their heads to the side to make sure they were looking at you lest they somehow disobey him. You could see the pity, the sympathy, the smug triumph in each of the girls’ eyes, the frowns and subtle smirks, and you could do nothing other than keep staring ahead of you as your hands and knees suddenly began to tremble. “What is wrong with her?”

He didn’t ask it in a rude or incredulous way, but as if you were a diagram in a textbook, and this was simply an exercise the students were completing. You were sure your shame was visible on your face, the embarrassment turning your spine to liquid. One of the girls put her hand up, near the front of the room, and you only recognised her for the little kiss-ass she was once she spoke. She had always been that way, desperate for Mr Murphy. Always at the front of the line, always gleeful at the downfall of others, always ready to point out any mistakes. And you were always happy to watch her desperation help her in no way whatsoever. A lot could be said about Mr Murphy, but favouritism was not something he had ever displayed. Whichever ballerina was doing well, recognisably well, was given her dues, and it was left at that.

“She’s not wearing her tights and leotard, or at least, she’s wearing sweatpants over them. Her pointe shoes are dirty, and her hair isn’t in a bun.” You could almost imagine her satisfied little smirk when she finished speaking, that evil little smile that you had always wanted to punch off her face. One swing, you thought, just one swing…

“Correct,” he simply responded, threading his fingers through each other and raising his eyebrow at you again, as if confused and annoyed at you for not doing something. “Leave, get your shit together, and then come back inside. If you have not returned within ten minutes, don’t bother returning to rehearsal ever again.” He nudged his chin in the direction of the door and you nodded obediently, eyes downcast as you stood up straight and slowly walked back out.

When the door was closed behind you once more, you stood silently for a minute, eyes clenched shut and hands curled into fists at your sides. You pressed out a scream behind your pursed lips, teeth clenched so hard your jaw began to hurt. You slammed the heel of your hand against the side of your head again and again and again until your shoulder hurt a little from the motion and your brain felt sufficiently jumbled. Your chest was heaving and you were overwhelmed with rage. You wanted to kick something, to throw something, to go back in there and rip that bitch’s hair out of her bun. You resolved to pulling your pointe shoes off and lobbing them across the hallway as hard as you could, letting out another clenched scream before walking all the way down to pick them up and bring them back.

You stood in front of your bag and took three deep breaths. You picked up your water bottle from where it had rolled between another two of the ballerinas’ bags, and took huge gulps of water until you felt a little less sweaty with anger. You checked the time on your phone to make sure you hadn’t wasted your ten minutes, then set about carefully pulling off your joggers, folding them up, and placing them inside your duffel. You pulled out a new pair of pointe shoes, cursing yourself for not having prepared them in time and preemptively wincing at the blisters you knew you were going to get by the end of rehearsal. You walked down to the bathroom at the end of the hall in the pointe shoes, hoping to at least break them in a little bit with the short time you had, and used the mirror to quickly pull your hair into a bun, securing it with pins in a practised dance you had learned from years of repetition. You checked yourself once more in the mirror and then looked down at your phone before sprinting full on back to the room and sliding through the doors. You made it just in time.

Mr Murphy glanced at you as you slipped into position at the back of the line, following the exercises he had been calling out to the ballerinas while you had been out. He methodically looked at every inch of your body, from your pointe shoes to your pink tights and black leotard, from the careful set of your bun to the determined set of your brow and sheen of sweat on your temples. He didn’t say anything directly to you, and you took it as a win.

At the halfway point, you were all allowed a little break to drink water and have a rest before you switched from exercises to rehearsals for your next performance. You were all practising for your various roles in a performance of ‘Still Life at the Penguin Cafe’, and though you would have to wear a huge mask of a ram on your head, you were ecstatic for the performance. While it wasn’t technically a solo, you were the centre of the piece, being the only one not dressed as a penguin. Now, everything felt so precarious. You couldn’t quite be sure Mr Murphy wouldn’t take the role from you after the past two weeks spent in a slump, and the worry was becoming your ever-present companion.

Just as the girls were all leaving the room to get water and lounge around on the floor of the hallway, Mr Murphy cleared his throat and snapped his fingers at you.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” and he pointed at the spot right in front of him. It took everything within you not to sprint to the spot. You took careful, measured, steps and stopped a few feet in front of him, spine straight and head held high. You weren’t sure where to look. You could never meet his eyes, something in your soul was opposed to it, so you chose a spot on the wall just next to his head.

“You will stay for another hour at the end of the session to make up for your failures this morning, understood?” He raised both his eyebrows, hands on his hips. You closed your eyes, trying not to burst into tears like a child throwing a tantrum on the spot. You nodded, whispered a ‘yes, sir’ in a clogged voice, and waited until he dismissed you to walk out of the room.

You sat down by your bag with a sigh, arms slung over your knees as you cradled the water bottle close and pressed your face to it. You closed your eyes and allowed your head to dip down as some of your friends came to sit around you, offering pats of sympathy and words of comfort. You tried to smile, nodded in thanks, but you just wanted to curl up into a ball and never get back up.

The next few hours were spent going through each section of the dance. You felt lucky that you didn’t get to the Ram piece, you were sure you couldn’t hold it together long enough for that, only to be doused with cold water at the thought that you needed to stay longer afterward.

When rehearsal was over, Mr Murphy dismissed everyone right on the dot. He didn’t acknowledge you as the girls started leaving, the chatter slowly beginning to rise as they reached the door. For a moment you wondered if you could get away with leaving with everyone else, but just as you reached the door he called out “ten minutes at most, Ms Y/L/N, then I want you back in here.” Your bones seemed to disappear and you thought you would collapse to the floor in a heap of mushy flesh. Instead you nodded and wobbled your way outside to chug what was left of your water bottle, refill it, then chug the contents again as tears of exhaustion slipped from the corners of your eyes and mingled with the sweat dampening the hair by your temples and ears.

The ten minutes were up far too quickly and you stood with a groan, heading to the door once more. You gazed at the room from the door, the light hardwood floors, the wall of mirrors and the bar spanning the length of the room, the huge windows letting in swaths of natural light. You often forgot how beautiful the space was.

You walked slowly to where Mr Murphy stood, typing something on his phone and moving the speaker to face the room again. You stood before him, hands clasped and eyes downcast, waiting for instructions. For a while, he didn’t say anything. He was no longer on his phone, his hands hanging by his sides, and he stared at you. Every few seconds you glanced, trying to glimpse what was going to happen, but he just continued watching you, stoic as ever.

You could never tell what he was thinking. Never once had you been able to guess at his thought process, to figure out what was going on in his head. Maybe that was one of the reasons he intimidated you so much.

He walked closer, so close the toes of his shoes almost touched the toes of yours and you gulped, staring at the contrast, the black and the pink, the background of wood. His hand came up and he tapped up under your chin with the side of his index finger, waiting for you to lift your head. When you did, your entire face felt hot under the skin. He was so close, you could see the freckles splashed on his skin, the careful set of his cheekbones and jaw. You gulped. His eyes were so much more terrifying up close.

“You’ve been given a gift,” he began, slow and firm, “your ability, your natural rhythm, that is a gift. Unless you put in effort to finetune this gift, it goes to waste. Do you understand what I’m saying?” You nodded but he shook his head once. “Speak.”

“Yes sir,” you breathed out quickly, gulping when your mouth was closed again.

“I’m not sure you do, though,” and it felt like the hammer falling. His eyes seemed to harden a little, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “The past two weeks all I have seen is a sloppy, unprincipled, uncommitted dancer who deems merely showing up a success.” Each word was a stab to some part of you, and it took everything not to wilt completely to the floor. “You have been given one of the more difficult roles in the performance, and I once believed you deserved it. For the life of me, I cannot remember why.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you closed your eyes, throat bobbing as the despair that felt inevitable finally began to land.

He went silent, and that felt worse somehow. The backs of your eyelids began to burn and you clenched your hands tighter around each other, hoping the little pain it brought would distract from the tears. You berated yourself in your head. You yelled in your mind that this was a pathetic display, that it would be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done if you began to cry in front of him. He would think less of you, it would only confirm what he believed; you were weak. When you opened your eyes again, one traitorous tear slipped out and down your cheek. You could feel the hot, ticklish track it made down the skin. If you didn’t know better, you thought you saw Mr Murphy’s eyes soften.

He breathed out, long and tired, and reached up to gently wipe the tear away with his thumb. Your breath caught in your throat. His hand was warm. Your chest felt tight. His skin was soft. You stared into his eyes. He left the side of his hand against your face, as if allowing himself to feel the skin. Something in your stomach writhed impatiently. Everything seemed to have changed within a second. Some deep seated urge whispered in your ear to open your mouth and lick his thumb. You shivered.

“Turn around,” his voice was low, rough, and you almost moaned at the sound. You gulped again, but obeyed almost instantly. You heard some shuffling, and then the music started, the slow long notes interspersed with the quick little strums, a beautiful, almost joyful piece of music. Then Mr Murphy was pressed right against your back, and suddenly the music was secondary. His chest, firm, solid, was moulded to your back. You could feel the soft fabric of his black shirt, the puffs of his breaths against the back of your neck. Your entire body shivered. He was warm, like a heater on a middle setting, and if you weren’t so tense, you would melt against him. You could feel his nose against your head as he bent slightly. You could feel his lips graze the shell of your ear as he whispered “relax.” You tried, forcing your muscles to loosen like you would before a performance.

His hands trailed down your arms, his fingertips running down your biceps, then your forearms until you shivered against him again. When he reached your wrists, he hooked his own hands under them and began raising them in time with the music. You turned your head to the right, watched his hand raise your own, your lips parted and breaths heavy. You couldn’t move past the feeling of him pressed to your back.

You almost missed the cue to move, almost, and pulled away from him slowly, carefully, using the measured steps required by the music. You left your right hand in his, just the barest touch of your fingertips against his, the illusion of contact as you moved to the left, feet lifting high. His eyes seemed to pierce through you, and suddenly you enjoyed the feeling in a sick, scary way. You walked forward until you were in line with Mr Murphy, still an arm’s length away before he stepped forward and your arms moved to a waltz position. He settled into the space, gripping your hands firmly in his. He was pressed as close as he could be, closer than your actual partner would be for the dance, and you set your eyes on his face. Your pulse thrummed in your ears, you were in your element.

You went through all the steps of the dance like you had been born knowing it. Your bodies were like water as they moved, smooth, graceful. You hadn’t felt this intune to the music in a long time, hadn’t felt this much like a dancer in a long time. You could almost see the crowd in front of you, the blinding lights, the smooth fabric of the dress.

At the final step, Mr Murphy gripped your hand and spun you into him, changing the ending of the dance. You gasped as you leaned back into his chest. His head was bent down, pressing his face into your hair. You were panting, torso moving up and down quickly but trapped in the confines of his arms crossed over you. You leaned your head back a little, pressing the curve of your skull into the curve of his neck as he pressed his cheek to the side of your head. The music was fading out, and the only sounds in the room were your mingling breaths, heaving into the air of the room.

His left palm pressed against your stomach, firm and insistent, but you couldn’t be bothered to look down. It seared into your already boiling skin and you closed your eyes. You tuned into the sensation of his hand slowly sliding down, bit by bit, inching down over your stomach then pressing against your pelvis. You gasped as you felt his fingertips brush over the leotard just at the top of your pussy. Your hand moved behind you, gripping his sides, clenching into the soft fabric of his shirt.

He didn’t say anything, just breathed heavily against the side of your head, and you didn’t stop him. His hand moved farther down, pressing against the softness atop your core. Gently, his index finger moved to the centre line and began pressing in. You lifted up on your toes a little when you felt the pressure through the fabric, the indent of his finger pressing against your clit. You were hot and wet, he could feel the heat emanating from your core against his hand.

He kept his finger pressed there until you became restless, impatient, pressing your hands a little harder against his ribs. Slowly, keeping the pressure, he moved his finger down until he was pressing against your hole. The warm tendrils of pleasure slowly undulated up your insides. He repeated the motion, up then down and pressing a little harder against your hole.

You breathed out heavily, shakily, and bent your knees to press a little harder into the feeling.

Up, down, press. Up, down, press. He circled your clit through the fabric, pressing against the pulsing little bud. Up, down, press, drag up, drag down, press. You were panting into the air, face contorted, mouth up and head tilted up, resting against his shoulder. Your eyes were screwed shut, hips moving to chase the motions. He didn’t say anything, just breathed heavily against your ear, held you tighter against his body.

You were both standing in the middle of the large studio, bathed in the early evening light. Your hands clenched a little harder against his sides. The warm tendrils were lasting longer, becoming more frenzied, curling up into your stomach and making your hole flutter. His right hand moved up and cupped your breast, gripping firmly and burning the heat of his hand into the flesh.

You were engulfed by him, wrapped up in both his arms as he pressed his fingers harder and quicker against the seam of your core, moving up and down, pressing and releasing. He ran the edge of his thumbnail against the fabric over your nipple and your pelvis shook. You writhed in his arms at the spark it shot to your core, at the electric pulse it created and ultimately pushed you over the precipice. A moan, a high-pitched whine shot from your mouth, echoing in the room. You pressed yourself so hard against him he almost lost his balance, moving one foot back to keep the two of you upright. Your hands hurt from how stiff they became clenched into the fabric of his shirt.

Slowly, he released the pressure against your core. He grazed his finger up until he could press his hand to your stomach again. He left it there and the two of you heaved breaths in sync. You began to flutter your eyes open, still lost in the blood rushing through your head. His right hand came up and gripped your chin, pushing it so you faced to the left where his head had dropped down. He leaned back a little, you tilted forward a smidge, your eyes met. Your lips were still parted, his mirrored. Then he surged forward, pressing his mouth to yours, his nose sliding into the crease between your cheek and nose. He tasted warm and minty. His lips were plush and cushiony soft. He pulled away and you looked into his eyes again.

Neither of you said a word.

Taglist: @4ria790

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luveline · 10 months ago

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i love dad au’s! what about kbd!steve feeling a little overwhelmed and accidentally snapping and it startles one of the girls? like dove walking in their bedroom when you’re trying to calm him down. love your work❤️

thank u for requesting!! mom!reader, 1.1k

A hard knock on the door startles you. You don’t think one of the girls could emit so much force, so you assume it to be your husband. “Yeah, babe, I’m getting dressed.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Okay,” you say, not worried, but not not worried. Nobody ever likes hearing that phrase without a quick follow up. You pull your pants over damp legs and leave the towel around your shoulders to catch any run off, opening the door for Steve where he waits on the other side. He looks strange; he’s not smiling. You go to touch his face and he ducks away from your touch.

“Steve, what?” you ask, confused.

He peels away into the bedroom. You follow quickly. You want to close the door but think better of it —Dove is in her room with a faulty baby monitor.

“I need more help,” he says tightly.

“Okay. With what?”

“No, that’s the problem. I can’t keep telling you everything.”

He sounds so angry so suddenly, it isn’t like him. You fight the urge to be defensive, and then the want to cry, holding out one of your hands to him in the universal gesture for calm down. “Okay. I’m sorry. Just give me some leeway, okay? Because the thing that you’re mad about right now has been stewing with you for ages, but this is the first I’ve heard about it.”

He sits down hard on the end of the bed. You stand there for a few seconds, tense, but you really, really love him. You get down onto your knees and look up into his face, clasping your hand loosely around his ankle. “I’m sorry, H. Please don’t be angry with me yet.”

“I’m not angry with you, I just need more help this week and you haven’t noticed, and that pissed me off.”

“You think maybe I didn’t notice ‘cos I had all that stupid work stuff to do?” you ask gently. It takes more effort than you’d like to admit to be calm right now, but you’re trying because it’s you and Steve. He deserves your effort more than anyone else in the world, especially now that he’s telling you he needs it. “What do you want my help with, honey? I’ll only make you tell me once.”

“But why do I have to tell you once?” he asks.

“Because I’m busy too.”

He shakes his head. “That pisses me off, though. We’re both busy, we’re both struggling, but I’m the one who ends up picking up the slack.”

“I’m sure it feels that way for you,” you say, trying to be patient, pretty close to losing it, “but I’ve been doing a lot this week. I have.”

He looks disgusted for a moment, just a split second, and you’re so worried he’s aiming that disgust at you that you duck your chin, eyes clouding with hurt.

“Sorry,” he says. He covers his eyes with the back of his hand, pitch rising with emotion. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Honey,” you murmur, rubbing his thigh. He curls into himself, and you might not see it often but you know what he looks like when he’s going to cry. “Sweetheart, please don’t be upset.”

“I’m being mean,” he says.

“No you’re not! You’re not being mean at all, you’re asking for help, and you’re telling me how you feel, that’s not mean, that’s the right thing to do, even if you’re angry.” You try to catch his gaze. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? I know how much you do. I should’ve noticed, even if I’m busy. That’s not okay of me. I promise I’ll do better now you’ve told me. Won’t make you tell me again.”

He sighs as the first awful tear breaks from his lashes. “I think I’m really tired,” he says, half laugh and half sob.

You encourage him into a bendy hug. He’s boiling hot under your hands, sniffling as you rub a line up and down his back. “I’m sorry. It’s not fair that you feel like this. I’m supposed to look after you,” you murmur.

“I don’t even care that you’re not helping as much as I need you to,” he admits, “I’m just so tired.”

“Why don’t you lie down? You don’t have to suffer in silence, baby. You told me how you feel and now I’m gonna pull my socks up and take care of you.” He shudders with tears.

“Dad?” Dove asks worriedly.

She’s standing in the doorway with her empty bottle in her hand, which she drops.

Steve immediately wipes his face but it’s no use, she’s seen he’s upset already, and she doesn’t like the look of it. Her eyes fill with tears, staring at him in shock.

“Oh, Dove, don’t cry,” he says. His own surprise prompts another tear to roll down his cheek.

“Daddy,” she says, looking at you like you can fix it.

“Come here, dad,” you say showfully, pulling at his face as you reach up from your kneeling to kiss his damp cheeks. “Don’t be upset! Let me kiss it better.”

He cups the back of your neck and lets you kiss him all over. “Thank you, angel. Thank you, I feel better already.”

Your kisses are sincere, if a little for show. You wipe his cheeks dry with your thumbs as you go, and take a hand through his hair as you lean back. He gives you a sorry smile.

“Do you want to come and give him a kiss?” you ask from over your shoulder.

Dove walks into the arm you hold out for her and climbs into your lap, then Steve’s. He sniffles and holds her, misery in his frame but the relief of having your kid to squeeze clear. “Sorry, Dove, did dad worry you?” he asks in a murmur, lips near the top of her ear as he hugs her close. She’s small enough that his arm covers near the entirety of her back.

You pat his thigh. He reaches for your hand to hold.

“Crying,” she mumbles.

“Sorry. I was just tired.”

“You okay?” she asks, like he’d ask her.

“Yeah.” He threads your fingers together and leans away, smiling affectionately at Dove. She looks a lot like him when she smiles back, though you have to skew your head to see it. Same eyes, same dip in their top lip. “Mom kissed it better. Well, mostly. I just need, like, one more kiss, and then I will be perfect. Do you think so?”

She knows what he’s doing, laughing warmly as she leans in to kiss his cheek.

His eyes close as she ducks in, a small smile on his lips.

Man, you think. If Steve’s out of commission, I have so much laundry to do.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago

Text

the girl next door 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You can’t remember the last time you had the house to yourself. Even if your mother’s just next door, it feels a little lighter around there. And you’re happy for her. Maybe having Steve around will be good. He can be an outlet so she doesn’t have to put all her frustrations on you.

She was happy when she left, even excited. That’s another rarity in your life.

You start your day off with a tea. The apple cinnamon bags are a bit old so you use two. You bring the cup into your room and get your table set up with your pencils and sketchbook. You open the window to let in the sunlight, the natural light much brighter than the yellowed bulb above.

You know your mom would tell you to do something more useful than just scribble in your sketchbook. You got the dishes done last night. Steve offered to help but you deflected as you foresaw your mom’s disapproval. You can’t let company pick up your slack.

You try to wipe away the anxiety of last night. It’s over now. You shouldn’t have worry very much about it again.

You finish your tea. It’s cold by the time you get to the dregs. You sit back to look over your sketch. Your eyes feel a bit fuzzy from hyperfocusing on that one stamen. You rub your brow and yawn. The sun shifts and you look over at the old alarm clock on your nightstand. It’s close to noon.

Something else catches your eye. You look up at the window across from yours. The curtain ripples around the gap before it’s pulled open from inside. Steve stands on the other side of the pane. Can he see you?

You can’t tell as he turns away without acknowledgement. The glare of the sun should hide your room well enough. You never really thought of it as your blinds are closed more often than not.

You get up to rinse out your cup. You stretch your legs as you pace in the kitchen. You’re restless. You’re so used to your mom and her demands and expectations, that having your own time feels aimless.

You could surprise your mother with dinner. Have it in the oven when she comes home. It’s still early but you can make something more than boxed macaroni. It will be a good cushion to fall back on when you remind her about tomorrow’s appointment.

🏠

When your mother returns, you can see the fatigue around her eyes. For as little as she goes out, you’re not surprised. What strikes you, is how happy she is. You help her to her recliner and she sighs as she leans back.

“Such a nice man,” she keeps repeating.

You smile and let her regale you with a recounting of her day. Still, you can’t help but wait for the pendulum to swing back to normal. She leans her head in her hand, her eyes distant.

“I swear, the universe sent him to me,” she says, “it had to. It was how much I need someone.” She drops her hand and traces her finger around the armrest, “sick, got a lazy daughter, stuck in this damn house...”

There it is. You frown. You mash your hands together and waver.

“I made dinner,” you offer.

“I don’t want KD,” she snips.

“I made... I made shepherd’s pie,” you offer meekly, “should be almost done.”

“Hm, wondered what that stench was.”

You frown. “I can put it in the fridge for tomorrow. Be good to have something we can just heat up after the doctor’s.”

“Doctor?” She grumbles, “eh... I forgot.”

She slumps and her eyes dull. You can’t help the pang in your chest. Sometimes you wish it was you who was sick. It feels like you deserve it more than her.

“Hopefully it’s good. If you can get the surgery--”

“Surgery!? Surgery. You keep going on about the damn thing,” she barks. “They can’t fix me, girl, get that through your head.”

“I know, mom, but they can help--”

“Like you help me? Crittering around here like a rat!” She hits the armrest violently, “would ya leave me be?” She closes her eyes and turns her face away, deflating once more, “ruined a good day...”

You sniffle and slowly turn on your heel. You should have known better. You should have just left her alone. As much as she rants about you staying in your room, she prefers you there. Out of sight, out of mind.

🏠

The next day, your mother doesn’t say much. Her silence is just a bitter as her words. You don’t push it. She gets in the car without argument and you set off into town. Even if she says it’s a waste of time, she listens intently to the doctor and answers all his questions. It’s only when she has to go through the tests that she shows her agitation.

After some hours spent at the specialist clinic, you’re free to go. Your mom is just as quiet. You feel her mood roiling in the air. Her hand is shaking to the point that she’s hissing at it.

You steer down to the corner and linger at the stop sign.

“Mom,” you squeak, “you want some orange julius? A treat for the way home?”

“Don’t talk to me like a damn child,” she snarls. “Let’s just go. I’m tired. Got no blood left in me.”

You nod and bite your tongue. Maybe you can just put her to bed. Her naps are a respite, though you find yourself anxious in the silence, terrified of waking her prematurely.

As you pull onto the suburban avenue, you slow and approach your drive. You pull in and shut off the engine. You get out and go around to help your mom. You open her door and she hauls herself out, tisking under her breath.

“Didn’t see him,” she mutters.

“Good afternoon,” Steve’s voice answers your question before you can ask. You look over the hood as he waves from his porch, “busy day?”

Your mother steels herself and forces a smile, “just went to the doctors.”

“Oh, everything okay?” He asks.

“Sure,” she chimes, “just some tests. Nothing serious.”

“Good to hear,” he stands behind the porch railing, arches crossed, “day’s not over yet. Still lots of time to enjoy the sun.”

“Mhmm,” you mom grabs onto your wrist, shaking you as leans into you. “Nice day out.”

“I was gonna do up a milkshake, if you ladies wanted to join me I got plenty to go around.”

“Milkshakes?” Your mother considers, “mm, I’d have to change out of these.” She looks down, “smell like a hospital.”

“Sure, take your time,” Steve says, “how about you, honey? I got strawberry. You seem like a strawberry type.”

“Eh, she’s more a vanilla type,” your other cackles. “Plain.”

“Got that too,” Steve ignores the joke. “I understand if you’re tired out though. Don’t wanna be too desperate over here, just wouldn’t mind the company.”

“I’ll be over soon,” your mom assures him, “she’s got some laundry to do.”

She keeps hold of you and points you towards the house. You help her inside, even though she does her best to hid how she clings to you. Her steps are uneven and stunted. You get through the front door and help her sit on the chair you keep by the door, just in case.

“Goddamnit,” she’s shaking pretty bad. “Help me, you dumb girl.”

“I... I don’t...”

“Get my goddamn inhaler. I forgot it this morning.”

“Oh, uh, okay.”

You hurry down the hall and to bathroom. It isn’t in the cabinet. You go back out and scan the table. Not their either. You find it next to her recliner. You wish she’d keep it one place. You go back to her and hand it over.

“I’m gonna go over,” she says before she huffs from the canister, “you’re gonna stay here. Out of my way.”

“Alright,” you agree. You prefer that anyway.

She takes a minute before she gets up. She shooes you away and you retreat to your bedroom. You sit on your bed and wring your hands, waiting as you listen to her. She doesn’t say goodbye before she leaves. Only the front door slamming lets you know she’s gone.

You exhale and pull the fold out table up to the edge of the bed. You open your sketchbook and stare at the pencil. You don’t feel like drawing but you have nothing else to do. You just sit, looking at the amaryllis. You can pick out every flaw in your work. You close the cover and frown.

A knock startles you and you stand up. Oh gosh, it’s probably Marge. What is it now? Is the siding too stained? Are the steps crooked? You get up and shuffles down the hall. You open the front door, hiding behind it as you poke your head around.

Steve has the screen door propped open against his elbow. He holds a tall glass filled with pink, “here. Figured I’d bring this over.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you accept the condensating glass, a wide straw poking out of the whipped cream topped drink.

“Maybe next time you can pop over too,” he suggests, “I’ve been working on getting the pool going...” he grins, “it’ll be a good summer for it.”

You nod and look down at the milkshake.

“Really nice of you,” you say.

“It’s nothing, sweetie,” he puts his hand on the door above him, looking down at you, “enjoy.”

“Uh,” you look at him then at the straw. You don’t want to be rude. You put your lips around the tip and take a sip. “Mm, yup, good. Thank you.”

His blue eyes stick to you and he drags his hand down the door, “I’ll make a deal. You come over to see the pool when it’s ready, and I’ll make you another. How about that, sweetie?”

You push your lips out. It’s not nice to say no. He didn’t have to bring you the milkshake or invite you. You shrug.

“Okay,” you agree, “erm, thanks again.”

He nods and taps the door frame before he steps back. He gently closes the screen door and you watch him through. He turns and strides down the stairs. You shiver as the cold glass numbs your fingers. Hopefully, he forgets about the pool thing. You don't even have a suit.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #au #silverfox au #the girl next door #mcu #marvel #captain america

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graysturns · 8 months ago

Text

𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕙𝕖 | 𝕞.𝕤.

3.7k+ words

note: this had me crying! please listen to will he by joji on repeat to feel what i felt okay? okay love u guys bye

warnings: toxic relationship, weed use, alcohol consumption, p in v (unprotected), oral (fem recieving).

lightly proofread

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

“you need to fucking relax. you get so worked up over nothing and now you’re bitching and whining at me over something that has nothing to do with me!” matt yells in my direction while sifting through his hamper.

“do you really think that’s okay? some girl whispering in your ear like that? it’s obvious she had an ulterior motive. and that way she put her hand on your chest, you didn’t even try to stop her! and now you won’t tell me what she was say-“

“why can’t you drop this? it was loud and i couldn’t hear her so she leaned into me. what the fuck was i supposed to do?” he interrupts.

“i don’t know, maybe establish a boundary? you always do this. it’s like i don’t matter to you. behind closed doors it’s ‘i love you baby, i can’t live without you, you’re my whole life’, it’s like i’m dating two different people!” i mock him.

“you’re such a fucking simp when it’s the two of us but god forbid another person is around. you forget i exist!” i continue.

“you already know i don’t like pda. no one needs to know the personal details of our relationship. i’m sorry you feel that way but that’s just how i am. you’re always trying to change me.” he huffs before throwing a hoodie down on his bed.

“matt, i’m not trying to change you. i just need to know that you love me. it hurts me that you’re so indifferent towards me at times. i need to know you feel the same way i do.” i choke out, tears forming in my eyes.

suddenly, his phone buzzes. i barely see the instagram message notification before he quickly grabs it and shoves it back in his pocket.

he lowers his head before bringing a hand up to his mouth, starting to bite his nails.

“what was that?” i stare back at him.

“it was nothing.”

“so, why are you being fucking weird?”

“i’m not being weird.”

“fuck this.” i grab my bag from his chair and walk to the door of his bedroom.

“where are you going?”

“matthew, i can’t be with you. i need — no i deserve — someone who loves me the way i should be loved. it feels like i embarrass you. you think i haven’t seen the models you follow? you’re so weird about your phone these days and i don’t have the energy to ignore it anymore. i’m not enough for you, but there’s probably someone out there praying for someone like me, someone who would kiss the ground i walk on, and appreciate me for who i am. you’re not him, but i’m going to find him. have a good fucking life matt.”

he stands at the foot of the bed, arms limp and slack-jawed.

i raise my eyebrows at him, awaiting some sort of response, but he rolls his eyes before turning around, focusing on his laundry once again.

“leave then, ungrateful bitch!” he scoffs as i slam the door behind me.

-two months later-

my head is pounding from the loud music blaring all around me and the amount of shots I’ve taken, which i’ve now lost track of. i feel like shit but i need something, anything to keep my mind off matt.

a pair of hands grabs my waist as i’m dancing and leads me toward their groin. normally i’d turn around and berate the man who felt like he had the right to put his hands on me, but i really need some fucking attention.

i don’t even turn to look at him before i press my back against his chest and move my hips in circles.

i can feel him move my hair to the side and start to kiss up my neck.

gross.

i continue to move against him, focusing on the music playing loudly. i feel high and drunk at the same time and everything is so fuzzy. i feel like nothing matters anymore. i’m so numb.

i turn around and face the man. he’s tall and blonde, with blue eyes just like matt’s.

“do you wanna get out of here?” i blurt out without a second thought.

he smirks before taking my hand and leading me out the door.

matt’s pov

i lean out my window, one hand tightly gripping the sill while my other brings the joint back up to my lips, sucking the thin white smoke. i exhale through my nostrils, shutting my eyes tightly.

thirty minutes ago, a mutual friend of ours posted a snap story of her downing shots. there were multiple men all around her, watching her drown herself in liquor. she wore a tight little dress that showed off all my favorite parts of her. my blood boiled at the thought of them ravishing her with their eyes.

that particular friend group is notorious for bar-hopping, and leaving behind whoever isn’t paying attention. i can’t stand the thought of her being stranded there, unaware of her surroundings, vulnerable and an easy target for anyone waiting to take advantage of her.

i press my palms into my eyes, trying to push the thought of her away.

she isn’t my problem anymore.

a sharp sizzling noise brings my hands back down when i notice one strand of my hair is smoking, the joint still between my pointer and middle finger.

“fuck.” i press the joint into the small ashtray she made me, when we went on a date to the pottery studio.

“fuck!” i yell out the window, wanting to throw the small ceramic out onto the street, but i can’t.

i’m such an idiot. she’s the only thing i’ve ever cared about, and now she’s out there, probably fucking someone new. but there’s nothing i can do about it, she isn’t mine anymore.

i stand up and shut the window, grabbing a hoodie from the chair and throwing it on before heading out to my car.

the drive is short and quiet. i pull up to the outside of her apartment building and park underneath a tree, far enough away to remain unnoticed but close enough to watch.

about twenty minutes pass by, and my nails are bitten to nubs, when a silver car pulls into the spot right in front of her door. i watch as she stumbles out, dragging some tall, frat-boyish idiot out behind her. she sloppily waves goodbye at the car as it zooms away.

i feel my ears heat up as she stumbles in to her apartment, bringing him inside with her.

it takes everything in me not to bust in there and rip him off of her. my mind runs wild thinking of what he could be doing to her in there.

reader’s pov

we exit the car and i wave goodbye to the nice man who dropped us off. i fumble with my keys a little before going inside.

“welcome to my home!” i throw my hands up and giggle.

“wow, it’s very.. cute.” he stands with his hands in his pockets, looking around at the stuffed animals on my couch.

i grab his hand and lead him up the stairs to my bedroom. “i don’t normally do this, but i just need to fuck and you seem like the kinda guy whose down.. for that kinda thing.” i slur my words as we enter my bedroom.

“yeah i’m so down, i think you’re really hot.” he chuckles before eyeing me up and down.

i roll my eyes internally before slipping my dress off and kicking it aside.

“okay let’s do it!” i clasp my hands together and giggle softly.

he smirks before pushing me onto the bed. “what a little slut, giving it up for a guy you just met at the club, and you’re not even wearing underwear, i love it.” he bites his lip before getting down on his knees.

he places a kiss on my navel before harshly sucking on my clit, with no warning.

i yelp out in pain, and not the good kind.

i can’t stop thinking of matt, how good he is at this, how i miss his tongue on my skin.

he begins to lick my outer folds, before slamming a finger into my cervix.

“fuck!”

“what’s wrong?” he looks at me bewildered.

“i’m not even wet, dude? have you ever eaten pussy in your life?”

he nods quickly before traveling up to my breast, and massages it slowly before biting down harshly on my left nipple.

“ow! oh my god, what is happening to me right now?” i blurt out.

matt was always so gentle.

he has a sad look in his eyes, and i begin to feel sorry for him.

“no, look, i’m sorry. come here,” i gesture at him to get on the bed and hover over me.

“i have lube on the nightstand, it’s okay,” i reach over and grab it, pumping some on my hand before spreading it around my clit and folds.

he pulls his shirt and pants off, before pulling his cock out and teasing the head on me, still in his boxers.

i look down and see them bunched around his knees and get the biggest ick.

before he enters me, i stop him with a hand on his chest.

“i’m not on birth control, you need a condom.” i lie to his face.

i always let matt finish inside me.

he smirks at me again, “that’s okay, i can pull out.”

“okay, no. i’m sorry this isn’t working out.” i roll out from under him and open my bedroom door.

“i think you should go.” i lower my gaze.

“no i can do better! i promise!” he pleads.

“get the fuck out man! now! go! go! leave!”

he quickly grabs his things and pulls up his boxers before tripping.

oh my god. i’ve never been so disgusted in my life. i cover my face in embarrassment.

matt would never give me this much second-hand embarrassment.

he stands, knees shaking and running down the stairs with his clothes bunched up in his arms. the door slams and i let out a sigh.

i feel disgusting.

after crying on my bed for a good five minutes, i look in the mirror and see a splotchy, nude mess. there’s mascara on my cheeks and my hair is a birds nest atop my head.

i need a shower.

in the bathroom, i turn the shower on high heat and step underneath the running water.

i wash my hair and face, then proceed to scrub my skin raw everywhere he touched me. my skin is red and burning by the time i exit the shower but i can still feel his grimy hands on me.

with a plush towel, i pat myself down before wrapping my hair up and going back into my bedroom to blow dry my hair.

halfway through, i hear my phone ding from the nightstand, where i had hooked it up to charge. i slowly walk over and peek at the screen.

it’s matt.

matt’s pov

my knuckles turn white from the grip i’ve got on the steering wheel. the windows are down, allowing the cool air to come in, helping me control my breathing.

a door slams and i jerk my head in the direction of her apartment. i chuckle slightly at the scene before me.

the same man, is now outside, standing in his underwear with all his belongings bundled up under his arm. not even five minutes after he had gone inside. his cheeks burn a bright red as he drops everything to quickly get dressed.

that bad, huh?

i snap a picture quickly and try to keep myself from laughing out loud.

this may be her first time trying to get back out there, but i can’t imagine how difficult it’d be for her to allow a man back in her bed after she’s had me.

i roll my windows up so i can watch him without being noticed. he’s scrambling to do something on his phone, shaking and crying.

how pathetic.

i can’t imagine how she’s feeling, probably sad, angry, maybe even missing me.

i decide to wait another twenty minutes. in the meantime, the mystery man is sat up against the wall crying into his hands.

finally, a car comes and he practically jumps in. they drive away pretty quickly.

i pull my phone out and shoot her a quick text. i miss her so bad, and i think she may be upset enough to actually hear me out.

thirty seconds pass and her name is on my screen, vibrating.

i slowly slide the answer button before bringing it up to my ear.

“hey baby,” i breathe out.

“uh.. hey,” she whispers.

“can we talk?”

“yeah i think that would be good.. can you come over now?”

“i’m already outside, sweetheart” i chuckle before pulling my key from the ignition.

reader’s pov

my heart is beating out of my chest.

he’s outside.

how long has he been out there?

did he see him?

fuck.

fuck!

there’s a small knock at the door, i quickly grab my robe from the hook of my bedroom door and slide it on, then run down the stairs.

i open the door to see matt, with his hair all fluffy and stubble on his jaw.

“hi matty,” i let out meekly, opening the door wider to let him in.

he smiles and follows me inside, shutting the door before grabbing my wrist and pulling me into a tight hug.

i feel my body relax into his warm plush hoodie, letting go of all the stress built up inside me. i wrap my legs around his waist and he carries me to the couch, covered in all the stuffies he had bought me. he takes a seat, and leans his head on my shoulder, exhaling softly into my neck. i twist my body so i’m on my side, laying between his legs, my head in the spot where his neck and shoulder meet, his hold on me still firm.

“baby,” he rubs small circles on my thigh.

“hm?” i look up at him through my lashes.

“i’m sorry. for everything. i took you for granted, and i shouldn’t have. you mean the world to me.” he sighs.

“you did. you hurt me a lot matt.”

“that girl, she was flirting with me and she kept messaging me, but nothing ever happened, i ignored all her messages but she wouldn’t sto-“

“i don’t want to talk about her right now, please.” tears threaten to spill over.

“i know, i know, i’m sorry. i just really need you to know i was never unloyal. i was just in a rough spot and i took it out on you. i didn’t know how to handle my emotions.”

i nod softly.

“and i’m sorry for calling you those names. and cursing at you. i hate myself for disrespecting you. these last two months have been absolute hell for me. i can’t get you out of my head, sweetheart.”

i nod again.

“i’m sorry for not showing you off, you’re the most beautiful woman on this planet, and i hate the thought of anyone looking at what’s mine and-and trying to pick you apart to get to me. i like keeping you my secret, that way you’re safe from the world around us.”

i raise an eyebrow at him.

“but that doesn’t mean i’m not going to do it. you’re worth so much more than you know to me. you deserve to be showered with love and adoration. you deserve everything, baby.”

i sit up slightly. “what does this mean, matt?”

he runs a hand through his fluffy hair before resting it on my hip. “it means i want to be with you, i can’t stand the thought of you being with anyone else. i’m ready to be the man you need me to be, if you’ll let me.” he looks at me with hopeful, bloodshot eyes.

i lean in and kiss him softly, resting my hand on his jaw.

he kisses me back with urgency before i pull away.

a tear slips down his face, breaking my heart into a million pieces.

“matty no,” i cry out and swipe it away, kissing him again.

“i love you. i need you back, please. if i need to get on my knees right here, i will.”

“please don’t get on your knees, you’re gonna make me cry.” i give him a small smile before curling up in his chest.

he wraps his arms around me and kisses my head. “can we go to bed, please?”

“of course,” i stand, grabbing his hand and pulling him up from his spot on the couch, leading him up the stairs.

he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, grabbing my hips and pressing his head against my abdomen, kissing me sweetly over my robe.

i bend down to his level and press my forehead against his, our noses touching.

“matt, i love you more than anything.” i whisper into his lips.

he grabs me and places me on his lap, so i’m straddling him, before he kisses me passionately.

“i missed this, so so much.” he sighs.

he lies back and kisses me with so much love, i feel my heart pounding through my chest.

i undo the tie at the front of the robe and start to pull it off my shoulders, leaving me bare.

“no, we don’t have to, i don’t want to make you feel pressured.” he grabs a hold of my elbow.

“no matt, i need this, please.” i plead at him with my eyes.

“you don’t have to ask me again, sweetheart,” he smiles before kissing my nose and flips us over, so i’m on my back.

he travels down to the valley of my breasts, leaving sweet, tender kisses along the way, then, a kiss on each of my hardened nipples. he takes the left one in his mouth and sucks softly while his free hand caresses the other, circling my nipple with his thumb.

he’s so gentle.

he focuses his mouth on the other for a minute, before traveling down to my glistening bundle of nerves.

“you’re so wet for me already, baby,” he gasps before running a finger up to my clit, collecting my arousal on his fingertip.

he pops it in his mouth, his eyes rolling back at the taste of me. i clench my legs together in desperation.

running his hand along the hem of his hoodie, he pulls it off, along with his sweatpants and boxers. his cock springs up, and i’m so happy to see him.

matt lies on his stomach, propped up by his elbows, before diving his face into my throbbing cunt.

he teases by moving his tongue in circles around the clit, then lays his tongue flat, making me shake uncontrollably under his touch.

oh, how i missed that tongue.

i squeeze his head with my thighs from the pleasure he’s giving me and he chuckles, his hot breath tickling my clit. he starts to place soft kitten licks on my sensitive spot before running a finger around the ‘u’ shape of my entrance, then slowly pushing it in.

i let out a loud moan. “matt! i need you please,”

“patience baby, i’m just getting started.” he starts to fuck my hole with his tongue, and i let out a scream.

“i can’t, i can’t wait!” i sit up and grab his hand, pulling him up towards me.

he smiles cheekily then positions himself at my entrance, teasing me up and down. i grab the back of his head and press our foreheads together, kissing him roughly.

“fuck me matt, i need you to fuck me.” i pull my knees up to my chest, opening my legs wide for him to enter.

first, he puts the tip in, and pulls it back out. then he thrusts forward, agonizingly slow.

his face contorts in pleasure, as if it were his first time.

then he picks up the pace, swinging his hips against me, groaning and praising my body.

i’m clawing at his back, desperate for his cock to go further inside me.

“matty please, deeper,” i whine.

“patience baby, patience.” he rolls his hips, causing me to let out a long string of curses.

i start to buck up my hips, wanting more.

“i said be patient baby. fuck,” he flips me around and pulls my hips up, so my face is buried in the pillows, before ramming into me from behind. i let out another scream, this time muffled by the pillows.

he grabs onto my hair and pulls my head back, slamming into me over and over again. i can feel the tip deep inside me, rearranging and disrupting whatever organs in its way.

the sounds of his groans and skin slapping make me feel fuzzy and light, i can feel my orgasm creeping up on me.

“matt, i’m gonna-“

“i know sweetheart, hold it for me, i’m almost there.” he bring his hand down to where we meet and rubs circles around my clit, causing me to clench around him.

my legs start to shake uncontrollably as i finish on his dick, and his thrusts slow down as he fills me up with cum.

matt came inside me. and it felt so good.

he pulls out and watches intently as it drips down my leg, then reaches over to the nightstand to grab a tissue. he wipes up my leg and around my pussy and throws the tissue at the waste bin in the corner, then falls beside me, pulling me into his arms.

he pulls the comforter out from underneath us and covers me, then reaches over to turn the lamp off. i snuggle into him, nuzzling my face into his neck.

“i’m so happy you’re back, i was dying without you.” i whisper into his neck.

“believe me, i know.” he kisses my head.

i close my eyes and start to drift off before he asks, “who was that guy that left here, crying?”

i widen my mouth in embarrassment. “fuck matt, you know about that?”

“yeah, i was uh, gathering up the courage to talk to you, and i saw him there. who was he?” he trails off.

“he was nobody. a disappointment, a distraction.”

“did you fuck him? before we uh, you know?” he asks with sad eyes.

i kiss him sweetly. “no baby, all he did was remind me how much i needed you.”

he sighs in satisfaction and pulls me closer. “i’m never letting you go again.”

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this is probably my favorite thing. i love it. hope you guys love it too 🤍

comment on this post to be added to my tag list! :)

tags??:

@imwetforyourmom @anonymouslyachrisgirl @junnniiieee07

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo fanfic #joji #smut #fanfic

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ronance4everbrainrot · 3 months ago

Text

MMMMore incorrect quotes from Merlin Academy! (with ships) Long post

Maleficent: Listen, we’re done, we’re over! Okay?

Hades: Whatever bitch, you ain’t never gonna find no one like me.

Maleficent: Yeah, that's the point shithead!

(gasp the IT-couple has broken up. I have a feeling it could be like Jade and Beck but they are both Jade)

---

Fay: Fight me!

Hades: Ha, look at your size! What are you gonna do, kick my ankle?

*Later*

Morgie: Why is Hades crying?

Maleficent: Fay kicked them really hard on the ankle.

(Maleficent was impressed)

---

Fay: Why are we friends?

Maleficent: Poor decisions on your part.

(like either of you don't like each other. Ha ha)

---

Fay: So, I heard you like bad girls… I time travel in Animal Crossing.

(I don't even know what that means but okay)

---

Fay: Maleficent.. I'm gonna cry!

Maleficent: Please don't.

Fay, crying: Request denied.

---

Maleficent: I never understood why people cared so much about their dumb friends until I got a dumb friend myself.

Maleficent: *Picks up Fay*

Maleficent: I’ve only befriended Fay for a day and a half, but if anything happened to them I would kill everyone in this room and then my self.

(Only she is allowed to bully Fay)

---

Uliana: I'm bored.

Maleficent: Wanna commit first degree murder?

Uliana: Sure!

Ella, hearing them: No- Stop, don't do that! Put that knife down! Put Bridget down!!

(She is the mom of the group for some reason)

---

Ella: Don’t say a word.

Bridget: Fergalicious.

Ella: Bridget, I said no words.

Bridget: Oh, I see how it works. Two weeks ago, we’re playing Scrabble, it’s not a word, now suddenly it is a word because it’s convenient for you.

(Canon)

---

Bridget: Can you cut me some slack, Ella? I’m sort of in love.

Ella: I’m sorry, but that’s really not my problem.

Bridget: I’m in love with you.

Ella: *blushes* Oh. That brings me in the loop a little.

(duh)

---

Charming: The moon looks beautiful, doesn’t it?

Bridget, looking at Charming: Yeah… but do you know what’s more beautiful?

Bridget and Charming in unison: *sighs* Ella

(🎶I'm sorry that you 🤭 seem to be confused 🤔 she belongs to me 🧐 that girl is mine 😑 🎶 honestly that song has been playing in my head for a while for no reason) (it's now making me realize how Bridgella is kinda giving "it's over isn't it" idk why)

---

Ella: A mouse!

Maleficent, pulling out a knife: Go back to where you came from or I'll stab you.

Hades, pulling out a frying pan: It'll make a nice meal!

Bridget, giving the mouse cheese: You deserve a treat, little guy.

Morgie gasping: It's Ratatouille!

Hook: His name is Remi, dummy.

Ella: ...I was going to say to just trap it and throw it out the window... what is wrong with you people.

(I just had to. Also she is excluding Bridget from that statement)

---

Hook, to Morgie: I'll be under the mistletoe when you start feeling desperate!

(yeah)

---

Uliana: Oh, so when crows remember people who wronged them and hold grudges, its “intelligent” and “really cool”.

Uliana: But when I do it, I’m “petty” and “need to let it go”.

(I mean that thing with the flamingo feathers was your fault 🤷)

---

Bridget: Hey, Ella, have you thought about having children?

Ella: ...

Ella: Does looking over you and the others not seem like I already do? Because I promise you, it sure feels like it.

Hook: But we're not childr-

Ella, already distracted: HADES, PUT THE FIRE DOWN!

(again. She is the mom of the group for some reason. Give her a rest)

---

Morgie: Hello friends!

The Squad:

Morgie: You might be wondering why I’m taped to the ceiling

(you'd think it was Hades and Hook. But they are just as amused and surprised. Idk how Morgie made that happen)

---

Uliana: I should've left you on that street corner where you were standing.

Morgie: But ya' didn't!

(canon? It is now)

---

Hook: You know my motto: carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe coles.

Ella: Seize the day, seize the night, what’s the last one?

Hook: Seize the dick.

(Slay King Slay)

---

Bridget: *Gets down on one knee*

Uliana: Oh my god! It’s finally happening!

Bridget: *Collapses*

Uliana: The poison’s kicking in!

(Yeah. Honestly. It's got something. But idk)

---

Fay: Where have you been all day?

Bridget: Oh, just dealing with things way beyond my maturity level.

(like having broken up without actually dating because it was just a one sided homoerotic friendship)

---

Ella: When you said 'Magic in Bed', I wasn't expecting this...

Bridget: *pulls out card from deck* Now, was this your card?

Ella: Holy moly-

(See what I mean. Also canon)

---

Hook, Hades and Morgie in the back of Ella's car: MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS!

Bridget/Fay: We have food at home.

Ella/Uliana/Maleficent: *pulls into the McDonald's drivethrough*

Hades/Hook/Morgie: YAYYYYYY!

Ella/Uliana/Maleficent: *orders one black coffee and leaves*

(Ha Ha. Sad)

---

Hades: Legend says that when you can’t sleep, it means you’re awake in someone else’s dreams.

Hades: When I find out who you are, I’m going to punch you in the face.

(um. It's not me....I swear)

---

Uliana: I love sarcasm! It’s like punching people in the face, but with words!

(not like you can easily punch others with your eight arms)

---

Uliana: Stop failing.

Hades: Don’t tell me what to do! I'll fail right now!

Hades: *Succeeds*

Hades: Dang it!

(he finally realized he's a god. But still failed not to listen)

---

Bridget: Morgie told me that brown is just navy orange, and I have never been more disappointed with something I agree with.

(omg I'm a navy ginger)

---

Ella: *sneaking in through their window*

Bridget: *turning in their chair and flicking the light one* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

Ella: I was with Charming?

Charming: *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?

(Gasp. What was Ella doing 👀)

---

Ella: I can’t believe we have to be stuck in this room together!

Uliana, swallowing the key: Truly (poor) unfortunate (soul).

(oh. She was stuck with Uliana...ALSO WHAT- ULIANA?! THE KEY? 😭 Nah)

---

Uliana: I thought you were going to give me a book recommendation or something.

Ella: *laughs* Book recommendation? I can’t read!

(new HC: Ella can't read. Or more like, has a hard time with it. Idk lol.)

---

Ella: I’ve come to a point in my life where I need a stronger word than fuck.

(absolutely)

---

Morgie: Don’t mansplain this to me!

Uliana: Wh- I’m a woman! I can't mansplain anything to you!

Morgie: …Well, I’m a feminist, and I believe a woman can do anything a man does!

(he's got the spirit)

---

Hook: I made lightly fried fish fillets for dinner.

Morgie: Dude, It’s 1:15 am, what the fuck.

Hook: Do you want the lightly fried fish fillets or not.

Morgie: Well, I mean yeah.

Hook: So come downstairs while they’re still hot.

Morgie: Wait, you just made them?

Hook: Yeah, I wasn’t tired so I decided to make lightly fried fish fillets.

Morgie: Say lightly fried fish fillets one more time James.

(Morgie uses Dude romantically. And when he's annoyed at Hook he calls him by his first name)

---

Bridget: My level of gay has reached “sighing deeply whenever anything extremely heterosexual happens near me”.

(that's me with movies/series. She's definitely not talking about Ella and Charming)

---

*The Squad when asked about their earlier confession of love*

Ella: Yeah, you're lucky. I like you.

Bridget: I'd understand if you didn't feel the same way...

Fay: *has a panic attack* What confession?

Hook: *winks* I know, babe. You like me too.

Hades: So what? Are you going to date me or not?

Uliana: It was a dare.

Maleficent: Your smile is like a magic spell, and it's annoying me daily

Charming: Let's flip a coin. Heads I'm yours. Tail you're mine.

Morgie: Relationships are like a walk in the park. Jurassic park.

(I added the last three myself because I wanted them all to have one. What do you think? Accurate?)

---

Ella: Here's two facts about me.

Ella: 1. I hate hot people/royalty

Ella: 2. I'm a hypocrite.

(canon)

---

Fay: You saved me! Why?

Hades: People would think I murdered you if I didn't.

(people being Maleficent, also Ella and Bridget)

---

Hope you liked it!

Does Uliana have a crush on Ella? Maybe. Does Ella like her back? Absolutely not.

Ok byeee

#rise of red #descendants 4 #hades descendants #malificent #morgie le fay #fay descendants #james hook #ella charming #bridget of wonderland #bridget x ella #fay x Maleficent #morgie x hook #prince charming #uliana descendants #merlin academy #rise of red incorrect quotes #idk what else to tag

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jay-is-dead1 · 3 months ago

Text

"Buy yourself somethin’ pretty, Toots"

Summary: SUGAR DADDY SCHLATT SUGAR DADDY SCHLATT Warnings: not exactly a warning but reader is afab Word Count: 1.1k words Author's note: There wasn't enough sugar daddy schlatt fics so i did it myself, and please be nice, this is my first fic in a HOT minute. Also cut me some slack, Schlatt is probably mildly ooc.

You slowly sip from the whiskey glass in front of you. Your best friend, Emilia, chattin it up some guy next to the two of you as you rest on one of the stools from your local bar. The music was practically blaring a song you didn't seem to recognize.

You begged Emilia not to take you tonight, but she insisted that since you had just gotten through a rough breakup that you needed a "rebound" but you weren't much of a one-night stander, but here you were, dolled up in a skin-tight black dress, sitting alone at the bar, it was nice to be out and feeling sexy again, but you weren't really up for going out at the time, especially in your rough mental state.

"I'm gonna head to the bathroom" You basically call out to Emilia before getting up from the stool without a response, she was too fucked up already and she was too deep in her conversation to hear you, you didn't care for a response anyway, you weren't being stopped with or without one.

You push your way through the large crowd of people, most of them unknowing to your fight to the bathroom as they were too drunk and too stupid to notice, but after a long battle you finally push open the door to the bathroom. It smelled of puke and hard liquor from girls before you having their night ruined by getting sick from the mix of drinks and the cardio of dancing all night. You sigh and rest your hands on the cold marble sinks, the bathroom was nice, it was well lit and it didn't look at all how it smelled, thankfully. You look at yourself in the mirror, you sigh softly and try to get out of your own mind, you wanted to have fun tonight, you deserved it, you gave yourself a small but needed mental peptalk before heading back out of the bathroom. After fighting your way through the crowd again you find your stool and order yourself another drink.

"You come here often?" A low voice pulls you out of your head again and you laugh at the cliche.

"Sadly." You reply and you get a low chuckle out of the man before you finally give him a small glance, he was handsome for sure, you couldn't quite pinpoint what made him so attractive though. It wasn’t just the curly brown hair, or the mutton chops that grew down his face, you weren’t exactly attracted to facial hair often, but something about this man.. it all suited him perfectly. You could entertain him for the night honestly.

“I don’t think I’ve seen ya here before though, I’d think I would remember someone like you being here.” He spoke with a soft chuckle, he was obviously very intoxicated and you could only wish to be on his level by the end of the night.

“Yeah?” You can’t help but softly laugh through your words. “And why is that?”

“Cause your hot.” He replied, his words were slurred through his drunkenness. You burst out into a laugh and once you regained yourself you found yourself staring into the man’s offended eyes. “Okay buddy. Whatever you say.” You shook your head as you continued to hold back your laugh. You were sure being entertained by him and it was actually pretty nice. “So.. what’s your name?” You continued your conversation with him and found out his name was Schlatt, it was unique but still a nice name. You exchanged names and held the conversation until you found yourself being led onto the dance floor with him. You let the night flow under the bright LEDs, you danced without leaving any room for jesus inbetween, but with Schlatt you were truly having fun and enjoying yourself, drunk or not.

After a while you finally grew tired, you were too drunk to drive back home but Schlatt said his place wasn’t too far from the bar so you headed out into the city. As you walked, your feet began to ache from the heals.

“Hold on,” You spoke breathlessly and plopped yourself onto the cold concrete and struggled with your heals until you heard Schlatt’s oh so familiar voice.

“C’mere.’ You look up to find him patting his thigh so he could help you. “I think you’re worse than me at this point, toots.” He joked as he undid and slid off both of your heels, he then took your hand and pulled you up as he dangled your heels from his fingers as you continued the journey to his house.

“Thanks Schlatt.. for taking care of me” You spoke softly as you looked ahead of you, the only light coming from the posts every couple of yards, and a few neon lights coming from the bars that were still open down the street you walked upon.

“Of course, it wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me to leave a dame like you in distress.” He joked, but there was a sincerity behind his voice that made your stomach do flips. You looked down at your bare feet before you heard him speak up again. “This is it.”

You look up from your feet as you walk into the driveway of a decently sized two-story house. It seemed a little extensive for one man to be living alone in. It was also incredibly nice, there were fancy cars in the open garage, you couldn’t help but stare at it all until you reached the front door. He fumbled with his keys a little before finally unlocking it and walking in, and holy shit if you thought the outside was nice you couldn’t believe the inside.

It was marvelous. Your eyes seemed to shine simply from the inside of it, you felt like you were breathing million dollar air.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Schlatt brought you out of your trance, you nod slowly and look over at him.

“Nice is an understatement.” He laughed softly and nodded to your words, he took your hand softly and led you up the stairs to his room, it was large with a king or queen sized bed in the middle, you couldn’t really tell, and few doors on the inside that you could only assume was to the bathroom and one to his closet, you didn’t even want to see how large the two of them were compared to everything else in this glorious house.

You don’t know why it just dawned on you now, but Schlatt was rich rich.

Well part one is finally here, if you've made it this far then thank you and I hope you enjoyed!!

#schlatt x you #schlatt x reader #schlatt #fanfic #sugardaddy #sugarbaby #rahhh i love him #RAHHHH #i need him #i want him

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rafedaddy01 · 7 months ago

Text

I saw you across the room

Summary: you walk into Rafes parties and the moment he lays eyes on you he knows he must have you.

A/N: rafe Cameron is definitely the type of person to have a soft spot for you, but only show it when no one else is around

You’re not really up to this party, your friend dragged you here because she had just broken up with her boyfriend and needed “emotional support”. Which really just meant drinking her sorrows away.

To be honest you weren’t really the type to go out to parties. More of the type to stay home and read a good book while petting your cat in bed, a home body. A girl who usually kept to herself. Although you knew there was a party being thrown almost every single night, this was figure 8 after all, you never found fascination in reality like you did when you would read.

“Ariella, I really don’t wanna be here” you whined and stomped your foot into the ground like a kindergartener refusing to go to the first day of school. “And this outfit-“ Ariella was your friend since grade school, she was so much more out going and confident than you and you have no idea why she chose to be friends with you but your lucky to have her. She chose your outfit tonight, a mini black dress with the cleavage cut practically down the middle. You always had big boobs and were told they were your best feature but you weren’t the type to expose your body like some other girls would. You liked being reserved, and you were happy in your own little bubble. “Girl, stop being like that! You look hot. And we’re gonna have fun tonight, please”

You rolled your eyes but let your friend drag you inside the tannyhill mansion. You knew she needed this. Despite putting on an act of toughness, you knew she was actually devastated about breaking up with her boyfriend. Ariella was the type to cry about it alone, but in a crowd she’d usually be the one cheering everybody up while dealing with her inner demons. And plus she’s put up with so much of your bullshit you figured she deserved a night of fun.

“Oh my gosh we’re gonna have so much fun tonight!” Ariellas face beamed as she scanned the room, finding her inner circle. “Go get us some drinks, I have to say hi to some people” she let go of your hand and there you were. Standing alone, in the middle of some strangers house, wearing the skimpiest dress you owned.

Rafe couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you. Who were you? He’d never seen you before. He sure would have remembered if he’d fucked you. He’s probably been in every pussy on his god awful island. But you. He’s definitely never seen or been inside you, yet.

“Yo top” he nods his head in your direction, your in the kitchen pouring some drinks, “whose the chick?”

Topper eyes you up and down, “never seen her before” he goes back to explaining why basketball is better than football to some poor sap and dismissing rafe.

“Interesting” rafe says under his breath as he fixes his SnapBack and stands to make his way to you.

“So many drinks” you mumble to yourself as you skim the bottles lined up on the table. “Wonder which asshole this place belongs too” you scoff as you top off the two cups in front of you with some tequila.

“That would be me” your started as a voice speaks up behind you. Turning around you find a boy with a childish smirk on his face, wearing a SnapBack hat that you shouldn’t find so attractive but he makes it work, and a polo shirt and some slacks, typical figure 8 style. “The names-“

“Rafe” Ariella speaks up before the boy gets a chance. “Y/n, where have you been. I’ve been looking everywhere for you” Rafes face turns sour as he looks at your friend and then back to you. “You told me to get us some drinks” you raise the two solo cups, giving one to your friend. “Don’t even think about it” Ariella takes the drink and steps in front of you and rafe, giving him a death stare before turning around and dragging you off.

“What was that” you ask confused as she continues dragging you through the crowd, “just some asshole looking to get laid. Don’t let him even talk to you, y/n. Seriously, he’s not worth it”

As the rest of the night went on you got more comfortable, having had a few drinks and mingled with some of Ariellas friends.

You can’t help but feel like you’re being watched and every time you look up your eyes lock with Rafes. No matter where you were in the house you could feel his eyes on you, your body, your face.

It made you uncomfortable, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your insides turn with excitement.

You were never the type to get attention from guys. There would be some that would talk to you, but they were only after one thing and although you’ve had sex before, it was never meaningful. You’ve never found anybody who cared for your feelings and actually wanted to take the time to get to know you before.

But looking into Rafes eyes something felt different. Sure maybe he also wanted you just for your body, but it also felt like there was a connection, something pulling your body’s together. And the fact that he was hot was just a plus, you’ve never been attracted to someone this bad before.

“I’ll be right back” you lean over to your friend who’s busy talking to some guy to really hear you. You know you shouldn’t leave her this drunk and vulnerable with some rando but you’ve had to pee for so long, you couldn’t hold it anymore.

You finally found the bathroom, doing your business and washing your hands before stepping out, only to bump into a broad body that smelled like whisky mixed with sandalwood, “so sorry-“ you excuse yourself.

“No worries, I was hoping we’d run into each other” that same childish smirk on his face. “I’m rafe, I’m sure your friend told you a little about me. But I’m not all bad, trust me” he winks and your insides melt. Why are you so attracted to him? From what Ariella told you he’s a douch bag, a sleeze who’s slept with almost every girl on this island, and yet you want him to do unholy things to you.

You clear your throat before talking, “ha, well she did tell me some things, but uh, I usually like to judge people based on my own opinion.”

Rafes completely mesmerized by you. He’s never seen a girl more beautiful, and he’s been with many. There’s something about you that’s caught his attention but he can’t figure out what. All he knows is that he’s seen you, and now he has to have you.

“Right, well what do you say we go somewhere more private and get to know one another?” He cocks an eyebrow at you, he can tell you wanna say yes but you’re worried. “Hey, no worries. I won’t try anything, promise” he throws his hand in the air to show you he won’t touch you. You can’t help but let out a small laugh and that sound alone has rafe melting. Your voice is like an angel and he wants to know what other sounds he can get out of you.

“I can’t just leave Ariella alone. She’s had a few drinks and she’s with some random guy.. I want to but I can’t be a bad friend” you start to walk away and Rafes heart aches, he doesn’t wanna let you go yet.

He looks over at where your friend is, she’s making out with Kelce, rafe smirks to himself. “Trust me, she’s in good hands. Kelce is a buddy of mine, he won’t do anything to her” he turns back to you, a waiting look on his face. And when you nod your head yes his heart all but does back flips. He can’t wait to get to know you better.

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv

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haveyouanytime · 6 months ago

Note

Can I please request a hurt/comfort fic with Vincent and fem reader? 🥺

vincent renzi hurt/comfort | cw: nudity but not sexual

also so so sorry anon that this literally took over a month and it's a little short (878 words) (ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣﹏ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣) i'll take this as an opportunity for a little update on me! i just finished my first ever year of university and my birthday is on sunday (6/2)! so what a better time for a comeback! i'll try my absolute hardest to be a lot more speedy with my writing, and my requests are still open!

౨ৎ daily click to help palestine 🍉

Vincent’s office door creaks open, and he simply sighs in response. He was caught up in an intense case, practically having him glued to his laptop and files. He massages the back of his neck, huffing, “I’ll come up to bed shortly, dove.”

“You forgot.”

Vincent tenses in his seat at your defeated tone, a million things rushing through his mind at what he could have possibly done to deserve you sounding so hurt. He glanced up, seeing you in your best date night outfit. Hair done, makeup on, in his favorite little black dress, and your wedding ring twinkling against the light of his desk’s warm lamp.

His eyes twitch to the calendar atop his desk, confirming that yes it was the first of the month. He forgot the only thing you had asked for since you married him. You were no stranger to his late nights-- you were together through college, studying alongside him late into the night, getting a taste of his stress level and workload as a future lawyer. So once you secured a degree, a ring, and a flat in France, all you asked for was one night a month. The first Friday of each month was date night, one you were both obligated to. No work, no calls, and emergencies were rare.

But now, years in, he had forgotten.

“My dove,” He stands from his desk, his brows furrowed as he approaches you. “No, no, I did not forget--”

“You did!” You step back, your voice soft as it trembles with the forming tears in your eyes. “I sat there for so long, Vincent. I waited for you, but you forgot.”

“My dove, my girl, please.” He pleaded with a gentle voice, stepping forward and cupping your face in his hands. “Please, forgive me. It’s just-- my work-- ah, putain, I’m an idiot.”

You couldn’t help the tears that slipped from your eyes. He wiped them away with his thumbs, letting you voice your anger in your own way.

“I know you are angry with me,” He cooed, his brows furrowed as he looked down into your twinkling, tear-filled eyes, “My dove, please, let me make it up to you.”

You nod, sniffling and wiping away your tears. As soon as he sees the nod, he picks you up delicately, treating you as if you were made of porcelain. He carried you bridal style to your bathroom, placing you down on the edge of the tub. You sniffled as your tears slowly went away, leaving you only with a runny nose, watching as he turned on the hot water and cursed in French as he looked around for your lavender-scented bath bubbles.

Finding it finally, he stopped the hot water and poured in some of the bubbles. He let it simmer, bringing his attention back to you.

“My pretty girl,” He cooed, placing delicate kisses on your cheeks. He ran his fingers through your hair, murmuring his petnames for you repeatedly against your skin as he led you to stand. His hands reached the thin straps of your dress, beginning to pull it down to reveal your skin. The lack of a bra surprised him, but he didn’t reject the idea. He let your dress fall to your ankles, his hands brushing over your exposed skin. He kissed down to your stomach as he knelt, unbuckling your heels to peel them off your feet. He pushed down your underwear, placing a chaste kiss on your sternum before leading you to sit in the tub. With you engulfed in the warm water, he began to strip off his suit.

He was a lot more clunky than sensual, his tired and aching joints making him sloppily unbutton his slacks and shirt. You knew he was tired when he almost forgot to take off his socks to join you in the tub. With him now just as bare as you and lying behind you in the tub, he pulled you close to him, your back flush against his chest.

He placed a soft kiss on your shoulder, murmuring, “I can’t express how sorry I am, my dove.”

“It’s okay now. As long as you still love me.” You softly respond, taking his hand that rested on your waist and intertwining your fingers with his. You felt his lips place more warm kisses along your skin, following up from the end of your collarbone up to the curve of your neck.

“I’ll always love you, my dove.” He whispered, his kisses reaching up to your jawline. “To the ends of the Earth. Even in our next lifetime, and the ones after that. I never want you to think I choose my work over you. My mind slipped this once, I promise I’ll try to make sure it never happens again.”

“Good. Divorce cancelled.” You smile, turning in his lap and placing a peck on his lips as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Ah, naughty girl, you can’t divorce me.” He chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I know every lawyer in town. I’ll make a few calls, and suddenly we cannot divorce because no one will represent you.”

“You’re no fun.” You pout, running your fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair.

He places a peck on your lips, chuckling, “I know.”

#vincent renzi x reader #vincent renzi #vincent renzi fanfiction #vincent renzi hurt comfort #vincent renzi x y/n #vincent renzi x female reader #anatomy of a fall #anatomy of a fall x reader #blog:haveyouanytime

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zablife · 4 months ago

Note

Could we please please PLEASE get a part two of “Happiness is a Butterfly” ? It’s so heartbreaking!!🥺🥺🥺poor reader!!

Hi lovely, I'm pleased to hear you enjoyed the fic enough to want more! I hadn't planned on writing a second part, but as I stopped to consider it, my mind went wild with possibilities if Johnny found out the reader didn't follow his instructions. If you're curious how he reacted to the news she kept the baby, you can read it under the cut. Warnings: This is a very dark version of Johnny and it's def OOC so don't come for me!! I explored another side of him here that even scares me. Threats of violence!!

As Johnny's best friend Brucie kept watch for him those first few months, his eyes and ears trained on you to be sure you didn't do something stupid like approach Betty in the market or outside the girls' school. He soon realized it was a waste of time because you didn't have a vengeful bone in your body. You resumed a quiet, and somewhat lonely, life on the other side of town almost immediately. However, the more he followed you, noticing a routine of doctor's visits and frequent stops in the children's boutique downtown, he came to a damning conclusion. You were still pregnant.

Though Johnny seemed keen to know about this detail of your life so he could ensure you did as he asked, something always stopped Brucie from confiding it, his benevolent nature outweighing his loyalty. Who was he to say you didn't deserve to keep your child? And you'd asked nothing in return so far as he could tell, cutting ties with Johnny and the Vandals. So against his better judgement he returned home for good to keep your secret.

It was a decision he would come to regret as he sat waiting for the January meeting to begin, passing Gail a beer as she chatted idly with Johnny. The words seemed frozen on her lips even as she uttered them, Brucie's jaw going slack at the mention of your name. "Yeah, the kid's big as a house! Who woulda thought she'd be havin' a little one so soon, huh?"

Johnny's face hardened into an unreadable mask, careful not to show any outward signs of shock or surprise. However, Brucie knew his friend well enough to recognize the silent rage building behind his eyes. His pursed lips turned to an insincere smile as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "So who's the lucky guy?" he prodded, looking between Brucie and Gail.

The tightness in Brucie's chest grew until he could no longer stand it, reaching for a cigarette to distract himself with some small measure of comfort. Corky and Wahoo played a game of pool in the corner, the harsh clack of breaking pool balls punctuating the silence as they began circling the table to line up the next shot.

Gail shrugged, "Some no account she was seein' over the summer. I don't remember anybody comin' around though, do you?" she asked casually before adding, "Anyway, he ain't gonna help. Sad, huh?" Swiveling in her chair, she turned to her husband. "Brucie, honey, that reminds me. I promised her you'd go over and shovel the stairs. They're covered in snow and ice."

"Sure," he replied with a slow exhale of smoke, accepting the kiss she placed on his cheek as she excused herself from the table.

Johnny took a moment to light a cigarette as he waited for Gail to walk out of earshot, eventually ducking his head in quiet conference. "You know Betty's cousin took a bad fall this time last year. It's a real shame when accidents happen, ain't it?" he mused, eyes roving over Brucie's to be sure he understood.

Brow knit with concern over the implication, Brucie shook his head against the idea, "Don't do this, you're not thinkin' straight."

Fist pounding against the table hard enough to rattle the scores of empty beer bottles, Johnny seethed, "Me? You had a chance to tell me and you didn't!" He inhaled deeply, collecting himself before adding ominously, "so now this has to happen a different way."

Brucie looked away as indignation kindled a fire inside him. He set his jaw tightly before he ground out his firm reply. "She didn't do anything wrong, Johnny. You gonna punish her for your sins?"

Johnny scoffed, "And I suppose you're Mother Theresa?" Pointing his cigarette at his friend he growled, "You forget the times I protected you, all the years we known each other." He held Brucie's gaze with a knowing look before Brucie tore his eyes away, stabbing the butt of his cigarette into the table forcefully.

Brucie bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, swallowing harshly as he realized this was an argument he wouldn't win. If it wasn't him, Johnny would send someone else.

Seeing the look of resignation wash over Brucie's face, Johnny sat back in his chair and propped his feet on the table, lacing his hands over his stomach with a satisfied nod. "That's what I thought."

#zablife ask box #the bikeriders fanfiction #Johnny Davis fanfiction #johnny davis x reader

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novaksupremacy · 5 months ago

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The Veiled Law of Affection- Chapter 4

This chapter takes place surrounding the events of S5E17 "Mean" I didn't change much timeline wise but did add in what we all know we deserved, Casey and Elliot's sibling coded softball! I hope that everyone enjoys, thank you so much for the feedback so far! I've honestly teared up reading all of your wonderful comments!

Pairing: Casey Novak x Olivia Benson

starts off with some heavy smut, then SIBLING SOFTBALL, then fluffy, angsty fun, typical SVU case talk

The Veiled Law of Attraction- Chapter 4

by PKJ @novaksupremacy

Word Count: 6546

Read Part 3

Casey loved waking up naked in Olivia’s bed, soft kisses planted on the back of her bare shoulders letting her know the coffee was ready to go and so was the brunette. The redhead rolled over and propped herself up on one arm against the pillow. “Mmm morning.” She said sleepily.

Liv smiled; she had trouble believing Casey just woke up this beautiful. “Good morning,” she laid a swift kiss on her girlfriend’s lips. “How did you sleep?”

The attorney scooted closer and wrapped her body around the brunette. “I always sleep better next to my detective.” She kissed her hungrily, bringing her hand up to run it through that chestnut brown hair.

“Casey,” the detective managed to sigh between kisses, “don’t you want your coffee?”

“Sex first, coffee after,” the redhead smirked as she slid her tongue across Liv’s lip and then bit down lightly. Casey couldn’t get enough, every morning they were together before work and every night they were together before bed.

The brunette’s eyes darkened, pupils dilated. She didn’t even pretend to put up a fight as the ADA pushed her on to her back and straddled her. She let out a gasp when she felt how soaked Casey already was against her body. “Mmm” she moaned, “good morning to me.” She brought her hands up and ran them across the younger woman’s hips and then gripped them tightly as Casey rolled them, grinding her core against Liv’s.

The redhead ran her fingers along her lover’s tan skin, up to supple breasts. She leaned down, never letting her hips break contact and pulled a nipple into her mouth. She felt it tighten and harden under the swift flick of her tongue as she rolled the other between her fingers, giving it a slight pinch. Liv’s body arched up and her breath hitched. Casey slid her hand down in between the brunette’s thighs, she took a sharp breath, eyes wide as she moved her fingers along the detective’s folds. She was drenched. “Baby!” Casey grinned; her eyes full of arousal. “My good girl, all ready for me.” She moaned.

Liv writhed underneath her, “Baby it’s too early to torture me.” She whined, bucking up, her body begging for contact.

The ADA quirked her brow and gave the brunette a lustful smile. She thrust two fingers in hard, her jaw hung slack as a small groan escaped her lips. The brunette moaned loudly as she felt her heat building almost immediately. Casey slid herself down and settled between her lover’s legs.

The tip of her tongue pressed down on Liv’s clit causing the detective to cry out, “Mmmm, Casey! Please?” she begged.

Casey lapped up the mess she made. She pulled the brunette’s clit between her teeth and then suckled, popping a light kiss down on to it making Liv’s entire body shiver. “Please what baby? Hmm? Tell Daddy.” She began pumping her fingers faster, making hard firm strokes on her clit with a skillful tongue.

Liv began moaning and whimpering, louder and louder, gasping trying to get words out. “Make me cum, oh god Casey, please make me cum.”

The redhead picked up the pace, using her free hand to reach down to her own body. Her moans vibrated against her lover’s sex as she could feel Liv’s walls tighten around her fingers, rubbing circles on her own clit at the same time causing her to moan louder. She plunged a third finger into the brunette’s tight heat.

Liv’s screams of pleasure were enough to unravel Casey, dripping down her thighs as she came along with her lover. The prosecutor laid her head on the brunette’s inner thigh, cleaning up the spillage and then her hand. The detective pulled her up to her chest, both panting.

“No fair on taking care of yourself,” the brunette tried to catch her breath, “at least let me taste you.” She ran her fingers through her girlfriend’s slick gathering up her arousal. Casey’s eyes rolled back, and she bit her lip, letting out tiny whimpers. Liv rolled her fingers around the redhead’s still sensitive clit and then brought them to her lips. “G-d, you taste like vanilla and honey.” She kissed the ADA passionately.

Casey moaned into the kiss, tasting herself on her lover’s lips. “I’m sorry beautiful, I knew we were short on time. I promise, you can have me anyway you want later.”

The brunette nodded deepening the kiss. “I will definitely be taking you up on that. C’mon let’s get ready, Elliot’s gonna blow a gasket if you’re late for the game.”

********

“Bout time you get here Novak,” Elliot teased as he stretched in his NYPD sweats.

“Aww c’mon El it’s pre-season and its freezing.” Casey laughed, “Loosen up Stabler, we’re gonna wipe the floor with them anyway.” She playfully punched his arm as she started to stretch alongside him and unpack her gear.

Olivia made her way over to the bleachers to meet Munch and Fin. She sat down and gave them a look like, “I can’t believe our asses are out here in the cold on our day off.” Fin was bundled up in his street clothes, grey sweats and a wave cap. Munch in typical Munch fashion was bundled up in his peacoat and fedora.

“Elliot and Casey better be glad we’re good friends,” Fin leaned back against the bleacher behind him, “freezing my ass off for a pre-season department game.”

“It could be worse,” the older detective shrugged, deadpan, “we could be watching the Mets.” Both men started laughing but Liv had stopped listening. She was too busy watching Casey warm up. The young ADA was off to the side swinging her bat wearing an old set of Liv’s PD navy and grey sweats. The brunette chewed her bottom lip, daydreaming. Her mind wandering, imagining herself push Casey up against the chain link fence and having her way with her, hearing the fence clink as she thrust into her. Her hands in Casey’s sweats, Casey’s hands still wearing her batting gloves gripping the links in the fence to steady herself. Her thought interrupted by Fin handing her a cup of coffee.

She startled and looked up at him, “Huh? Oh thanks.” her eyes glazed.

He smirked, “You good Liv?” sitting back down next to her.

“Oh yeah, I’m good” she was grinning from ear to ear and took a sip of the coffee.

“Ya girl’s lookin’ ready for a fight. Definitely gonna play good today.” He nodded, “unless she’s tired.” Liv elbowed him.

Munch leaned down between their shoulders, “Am I missing something here?”

“No.” they chimed simultaneously.

The game was starting, Manhattan Sex Crimes vs. Bronx Homicide, with Manhattan up at bat first. The gang cheered as Elliot took to bat and took a few practice swings. “Let’s go El! Woo!” Liv clapped holding her coffee between her knees. A low grounder between second and third brought the detective to first base. Ken Briscoe was purposely walked. Casey was up after that. Liv sat up and leaned forward, focusing intently on her girlfriend. The redhead was swinging southpaw. The brunette shifted, feeling herself getting hot. She thought it was incredibly attractive how Casey was so dexterous with both her hands.

“Bring me home, Novak!” Elliot yelled using his hands like a megaphone as he leaned forward and got ready to run.

Casey gave Stabler a shit-eating grin and tipped her batting helmet. She pulled her bat back and got into her stance. The pitch came down the mound fast, Casey was barely able to move out of the way fast enough, the ball just missing her shoulder.

BALL

Liv gasped, now realizing softball was a lot more dangerous than she thought.

Elliot shouted at the pitcher. “Hey watch it!”

The sandy haired detective pitching just laughed and rolled his eyes.

“Shake it off Novak,” Elliot clapped, “Come on Case, you got it.” He leaned down and readied himself again.

The pitch came down the mound again hurtling straight at the ADAs helmet. She ducked but the ball grazed the top of her helmet, knocking it off her head. Her red locks fell around her shoulders. She dropped the bat and threw her hands up, “Hey man! What the hell?!” She was pissed, it was clear now the pitcher was gunning for her.

BALL 2

“What the hell Mahoney?” Elliot was fuming, “Watch it!”

Liv grabbed Fin’s arm, “What the hell is this guy doing?” a note of panic in her voice.

He shook his head, “I don’t know Liv but I’m not liking it.”

Casey picked up her helmet unphased and placed it back on her head, picking up her bat and after a couple practice swings got into position.

“Let’s go Case!” Liv stood up and started cheering, “Come on Counselor!”

Casey smiled big and gave Liv a quick wink. Mahoney pitched another fast one, but this time Casey swung and connected. The crack of the bat echoed throughout the ballfield and the ball itself landed all the way by the back fence just short of clearing it. She dropped it and took off running for first base. Elliot rounded third. He headed home and slid across the plate. Briscoe slid in not far behind him as Casey brought up the rear. The ball got lobbed towards home as the prosecutor rounded third, but she managed to beat it and slide in.

SAFE!

Liv, Fin, and Munch were cheering and clapping, yelling for the team. The redhead stood up and dusted off. She gave a silly little salute towards the crew (mostly Liv) and another subtle wink. As she did, all of a sudden, she felt the wind knocked out of her. Detective Tatum who was catching for BX Homicide tagged her with the ball hard, way after the play had ended knocking her off her feet.

Elliot flew at him, “What the fuck is your problem?” grabbing him by chest padding.

Tatum scoffed, “Why do you care, not like its your sister or anything.”

“Might as well be, keep your fucking hands to yourself.” Elliot practically picked him up off the ground and pushed him back. Fin and Munch were making their way down to the field.

“Tired of half our cases getting thrown out because of these fucking ADA’s.” Tatum snarled, “Do me a favor and keep your dyke on a leash!”

“Maybe do your damn job and you won’t have to worry about shit getting tossed!” Stabler’s forehead vein pulsing as he berated the Bronx Detective. He went to jump on Tatum, but Fin and Munch grabbed him back.

“That schmuck isn’t worth it Elliot.” Munch said, trying to be the voice of reason. Elliot struggled to break free of them but before he could, Casey had already gotten to her feet and clocked Tatum with a haymaker. Everyone stopped moving, too shocked to say or do anything.

Casey wiped the dust off of her hands and looked at everyone, all of whom were all staring at her blankly. “What,” she shrugged, “if he’s gonna call me that I’m gonna at least live up to it. We gonna finish this game or what?”

Elliot and the captain for the other team conferred and Tatum and Mahoney were benched for the rest of the game. “Alright let’s go people, keep it classy now.” He clapped his hands together and walked back towards the dugout.

Liv hung around by the chain link fence, “I’ll meet you in the bleachers in a bit.” She notified the other two detectives and folded her arms.

Casey leaned against the fence, “I’m okay,” she spoke low, “Go sit, I promise I’m fine baby. Those guys want to act like high school drama queens. Let them. I can handle it.” She turned her head so that she could look her girlfriend in the eye. “Promise.” She knew Liv wouldn’t be able to resist her puppy eyes.

The brunette sighed, “You better be. I don’t think I can pull my gun for this.”

The redhead chuckled. “Go.” She slyly reached for her girlfriends had through the fence, briefly brushing against each other.

Liv went to sit back down with the guys. The game continued without any more complications. Elliot and Casey made a great shortstop/first base combo. They pulled off multiple double plays, jokingly ragging on each other the whole time.

�� “Hey Case, I’m gonna need a deposition on that lack of coordination.” Stabler smacked his glove.

She pointed to him and laughed, “Alright Stabler, maybe if you stop tossing the ball like you toss stuff in the evidence locker. You touch your wife with those hands?”

“Come on let’s end this, I’m freezing my junk off!”

“Maybe if you actually ran for a ball your nuts wouldn’t be so cold!”

It was hard for them to stop laughing by the time they made it towards the end of the game. They won 14-3 with Casey hitting another triple in the last inning. Afterwards Fin, Munch and Liv headed back over to the field. The whole team congratulated each other.

“Ohhhh yeah,” Fin nudged Casey, throwing some mock punches at her, “Daddy Novak with the ball skills.”

She dapped him up, “Hey Fin,” she snorted at his newfound nickname. “Thanks for the support. You should come play with us sometime.”

“Ahhh,” he waved her off, “not for me. But I’ll watch you play any day.”

Before she even got a chance to hug Liv everyone’s phones started going off.

“Munch.”

“Stabler.”

“Novak.”

“Tutuola.”

“Benson. Be right there.”

Stabler looked at the group, quickly packing up, “Split two cabs?”

“Yeah, Novak and I will grab one, you guys grab another.” Liv stated.

They weren’t in the cab a full minute, as soon as they were out of sight of the others their hands were all over each other. The brunette’s teeth against Casey’s neck. Liv loved the clean smell of Casey’s sweat after she’d been playing ball or working out. She definitely had a feral reaction to her lover’s natural pheromones. The redhead leaned forward pushing the detective against the door of the cab making her moan softly. She brought her mouth to Liv’s neck, her breath hot against her skin. She bit into her pulse point and sucked on it for a while and then ran her tongue over it to soothe it. The two women panting and letting out soft sighs until the cab driver awkwardly cleared his throat and they pulled apart giggling.

They arrived at the scene to find a young teenage girl tossed in the trunk of a car, multiple shallow stab wounds.

“I’d say she’s been dead at least five hours,” CSU told Liv and Elliot as they pulled up and started donning gloves. “Stabbed and slashed with a very dull 6in straight blade.”

“Detectives!” The uniform called from down the block, “Missing person’s call just came in from Westchester. Sixteen-year-old daughter never showed up for school, the car with your victim is registered to the missing girl’s father.”

Liv turned her head back towards the car, “Looks like we found her.”

As she turned, Elliot caught a glimpse of her neck and had to do a double take. He poked her neck, “That didn’t come from a blow-dryer.”

The brunette detective clasped her hand to her neck, “What didn’t?”

“The bruise, on your neck, right there? What’d you pinch it with your lapel pins yesterday when we were in our dress blues?”

“Uh yeah maybe? I didn’t notice.” She shot a look back at Casey realizing what had happened.

“How could you not? That’s a decent bruise! Almost kind of looks like a hickey.”

“Good one El,” she clenched her jaw, shooting daggers at her girlfriend.

Elliot looked up and saw Casey trying to stifle a laugh, bringing her hand up to her mouth and turning away. “Weird. Wonder what’s so funny.”

They headed back in the ADA’s direction to share the news of the missing person’s report.

“Damn Olivia, you get bitten by a perp’s parrot or something? That’s a nasty bruise you got ther...” The prosecutor feigned concern but was promptly and subtly elbowed by Liv before she could finish her sentence. She chuckled and returned to serious attorney at work mode.

“Women are so weird. If Liv’s got a boyfriend, she should just tell us. Maybe Novak knows who it is.” Stabler had three girls at home and a wife and even with the home court advantage couldn’t figure out the women around him.

** * * * * * *

As the case progressed it only got more complicated. Teens who snuck out to date their severely statutory boyfriends, a girl the deceased and her friends had been bullying, a brother who wanted revenge for the bullying and now new evidence from the ME’s office.

“Why the rush, Detectives?” the head of the Crime Lab, Siper, asked.

Elliot shrugged, “We’ve got a bunch of teenagers trying to kill each other. I’d like to uh arrest one of them.”

“It would help if we could at least narrow down the killer’s gender.” Olivia contributed, that way they could either rule out the girls and Agnes or rule out Agnes’ brother.

Siper grabbed a pair of manicure scissors and began to explain to the detectives how the smaller wounds inflicted on the victim probably came from a pair like this, shoved into the wound and then opened up. “Combine that with the ‘Boy Crush Blush’ aka light pink nail polish found in some of the wounds, I’d say your killer is a female.”

“Or a metrosexual,” Elliot said with a satisfied look, proud of himself for being inclusive. He was trying to feel out how Liv would respond, who turned her head giving him an incredulous look.

“Once you find your suspect,” Siper continued, “I’m gonna make you really happy. We found some hair on the duct tape not belonging to the victim. Know any bottle blondes?”

“Three” Liv stated matter-of-factly referring to the deceased’s “girl squad” group of best friends.

As Elliot and Olivia headed back towards the squad room, the detective racked his brain. He had seen her earlier that day, there was a lot of commotion, but he could swear she didn’t have that bruise at the ballpark. Where could she possibly had stopped on her way to the crime scene besides her apartment to change that she would’ve gotten a whopper like that on her neck? Was she stashing a man in her apartment? She shared a cab with Novak, so unless she has a thing for cab drivers,” he came to a complete halt, his shoe making a sharp squeak, “or women!”

“El you alright?” the brunette turned to check on him after the abrupt stop.

He looked at her as if he had just unraveled the mystery of the universe and swallowed hard, “Mhm yeah, fine. Let’s get this to Cragen.”

After arriving back in the bullpen Liv sat at her desk as she listened to Elliot and Captain Cragen pick Huang’s brain about why a popular girl and beauty pageant winner would do this.

“Boys usually get into conflicts with acquaintances or strangers while girls typically attack within tight knit friendships.”

“Well, that’s definitely been my experience.” Liv spoke, contributing to the conversation, “The people that have made me feel the worst were always my best friends.”

Huang nodded as he listened intently, “It’s called relational aggression. Girls are taught to be nice, and it’s not nice to start a fight.”

“It’s gotta come out somehow,” Stabled contemplated as he popped a fistful of popcorn into his mouth.

The FBI agent chewed his lip nervously and nodded, “Often as rumor spreading or secret telling.”

“In other words, don’t tell your friend you’re mad at her, just get everyone else to hate her.”

“Maybe there’s a peer counselor at the school who can make sense of all this.” Huang spoke softly.

Cragen patted his back, “make sure that they do.” He pats the federal agent on the back to let him know he was up to bat. “Cards on the table.”

Huang walked out from questioning one of the deceased’s friends from when she was younger and dialed the detectives on his cellphone. Liv and Elliot had just questioned the so-called peer counselor.

“Hey Huang, we didn’t get much outta this one.” Stabler was visibly frustrated.

“I think Emily wasn’t as close to her friends as we thought, we may need to question them again.”

“Got it, I’ll call Novak.”

**********

“Where are the parents?” Casey queried as she walked into the conference room. Andrea, one of the girls in suspect was already seated at the table with her lawyer, Kressler.

“On a plane as we speak, they’ve allowed Andrea to answer questions in my presence as a gesture of cooperation.” He smoothed out his tie and sat down next to his client.

Casey tossed the case file down on the table, “Yeah, I hope you want to cooperate too Andrea. It’ll make things a whole lot easier. You say you didn’t kill her, and you don’t know who did but Lukas Croft told the detectives he saw you in her car the night of the murder. You said you didn’t see her that night, but that was a lie, wasn’t it?” The redhead’s tone flat, unwavering.

The young blonde’s face dropped, and she looked towards her lawyer. Kressler leaned his head towards Casey as if to give permission to share information with the ADA.

“I did go out with Emily that night, but she wanted us to drop her off at some bar and drive her car home.”

The prosecutor furrowed her brow, not really buying into the story. “You mean the car where her body was found?”

“We’ll we’d been drinking so we just parked the car and took the train home. I called Emily to let her know where it was.”

“Great!” Casey said enthusiastically then we can check your phone records to make sure that’s true.”

“I used a payphone.”

“Okay so then we can check Emily’s cell for the incoming call, unless…That’s not true either?”

“Why are you being so mean!?” the girl’s crocodile tears began to fall.

The ADA tried her best not to scoff.

Liv and Elliot had the other two teens in separate interrogations while Casey continued with Andrea.

“What rules, Andrea?”

“You can’t just steal somebody’s boyfriend!”

“So, what? You just drove around with her in the trunk all night and then just dropped her off perfectly fine?”

Kressler stood up from the table, “I think we’re through here, Ms. Novak.”

Casey looked up at him, “Just want to make sure your client understands the situation she’s in.” She turned her attention towards the teenager, “No one is going to believe that Andrea. This lie that you and your friends cooked up, it’s a bad one. So, if you’ve got anything to say to me before I walk out that door, you better say it now.” She pushed her chair back and moved towards the door.

“Brittany went crazy!” She ratted out the ringleader of their friend group.

“And what did you do?”

“Just stood there.”

Liv was watching through the window as Casey finished questioning the girl and exited the room. “Man, these girls are something else.”

“You’re telling me,” The redhead started packing up her paperwork. “I’m still not sure I buy into exactly what they’re saying happened here.”

“Yeah, me either. Jesus Case!” she exclaimed.

The young ADA stopped shuffling her papers and looked at her startled, “What?”

“Your hand.” Liv brought her attention to her knuckles, a wave of concern hitting her in the gut.

“Oh,” Casey looked down and realized her knuckles were a bit bruised and scraped, “must’ve been from when I clocked Tatum. The gloves absorbed most of it though. I’m fine.’

“I’ll kill him, that’s your bedroom hand,” The brunette whispered trying to make a joke.

“I have two of those,” the redhead winked as she finished putting her stuff away, “I’ll be here for a while, but I’ll call later? I’ll swing by if you’re awake.”

“Please wake me.”

Casey nodded as she turned to walk out.

Elliot was leaning against the doorway to the squad room, he watched their body language as the two interacted. How the hell did he miss this, “some detective” he thought to himself. He turned to follow her out, “Hey Case wait up, I’ve gotta ask you something.”

“Hey,” she shot him a smile, “Thanks again for defending me this morning, I never really got a chance to say thank you.”

“Oh yeah, sure. Anytime. I’ll always back you up.”

“Thanks, anyway what did you need to ask me?”

He walked her towards her office, he was beaming, “You’re Olivia’s secret boyfriend, aren’t you?”

Casey almost gave herself whiplash, turning to look at him. “What? Also, not a boy.”

Elliot smirked, “You know exactly what I’m talking about. She’s been walking around here giddy for months, since right around the time, well, right around the time that you got here Counselor.” He grinned confidently, he knew he was right. “Then today, today the two of you get in a cab and then Liv shows up with that,” he motions his finger up and down his neck, “and you, you almost choke on your coffee when she realized. Only one thing I can’t quite figure out.” He opened the door to the litigator’s office and held on to it as he spoke.

“What’s that?” She tilted her head and looked at the detective leaning against the door frame.

“How did Tatum know?”

“He didn’t, he was just making assumptions.” She flashed a grin at him. “Kinda like you’re doing right now.” She chuckled and she started to close the door. She poked her head out, “Secret boyfriend.” She looked at him teasingly, “you’ve got some imagination detective.” The redhead closed the door and the blinds, shaking her head as she went plop down at her desk.

Casey was exhausted, going straight from the game to the crime scene, to getting started on the casework, to interrogation. She picked up a take box of now cold chicken and broccoli, “Finally,” she picked up a good-sized bite with her chopsticks, “food.”

No sooner had she said this out loud, her door reopened and in walked Lionel Granger. “Buy you a lunch, Counselor.”

The ADA sighed aggressively and put her food down with obvious annoyance.

“I’ll even let you talk me into a plea deal.” She loathed Granger, he was such a mafioso wannabe and was always waving his hands around when he talked with that thick Brooklyn accent, like he was the Godfather or something. “In exchange you get my clients testimony.” His client, Brittany, was the one being accused by the other two as the leader of this girl gang and the perpetrator of the egregious murder of their teenage friend.

“The sworn statement of a murderer, that’s tempting,” Casey rolled her eyes and picked up the takeout carton again.

“You need her to convict the other two. No Jury is going to convict them without her testimony. My clients off her nut, what’s their excuse?” He sat down across the desk from her.

“That’s why they’re being charged for their crimes,” the redhead retorted snidely.

“You’ve got a weak case at best. One sympathetic juror will tank it.” Lionel got up and headed for the door. He turned around. “They’re us Casey. Our sisters, our daughters, our high school girlfriends. No one wants to believe…”

Casey cut him off before he could finish. “No, they’re monsters. They’re mean vicious little girls, who think they can do whatever they want. And up until now they’ve gotten away with it.” She chastised, her lip curled in disgust and annoyance. “Not anymore. No deal.”

Granger shrugged as there was another knock at the door, “Maybe that’ll change your mind.” He opened the door to walk out as Kressler and Riff argued that Casey wouldn’t be able to prove intent for either of their clients. The ADA took another look at her takeout, sighed longingly, and tossed it in the trash. She and the two attorneys headed to Petrovsky’s chambers to sort out the issue. While she didn’t like, it Petrovsky allowed the defense to use mob mentality as part of their argument. This sent Casey down to the jail for another joyous visit with Granger and his client.

“Murder Two, Kidnapping One, Concurrent with the possibility of parole. Your client should take the deal and thank me.” She looked toward Brittany, “You tell the truth to the jury or the deals off and I add perjury.”

** * * * * *

There was a soft knock at the door as Liv brushed her teeth and started to get ready for bed. “Coming,” she called out and hurriedly went to the door. She opened the door to an exhausted Casey who looked like she might just fall over if she had to stand there any longer. “Hey baby, come in.” She took the redhead’s coat and briefcase and wrapped her up in her arms.

Casey leaned her body against Liv and kissed her as if she hadn’t kissed her in days, falling deeply into it. “I’m so hungry,” she whined, she sat down at the dining room table and put her feet up on the adjacent chair, her heels killing her with all the walking she did that day. “Every time I tried to eat, another damn defense attorney showed up in my office with bullshit. Then, THEN I had to see Granger twice today.”

“My poor girl,” Liv pouted, she grabbed an ice pack out the freezer and a towel. She took the young woman’s hand skillfully laid the ice pack over her bruising, swollen knuckles. Liv picked Casey’s feet up off the chair and sat down. She unzipped Casey’s boots and slid them off, gently massaging her girlfriend’s aches away. “You want me to fix you something to eat?”

The redhead leaned her head back against the chair and closed her eyes, she moaned in relief, she was in desperate need of that massage, “No, no just keep doing that.” Her voice, low and raspy. “That’s better than food.” She lifted her head slightly and peered at Liv with one eye, “Oh, and by the way, Elliot is convinced you have a secret boyfriend. But also, thinks I’m your secret boyfriend. I want to see how long we can mess with him so play along if he mentions anything about a boyfriend or dating.”

Liv guffawed, “We could just tell him? Cragen and Fin know, I feel bad that El doesn’t especially because we’re both so close to him.”

Casey giggled, “We could. This just seems like more fun.” She picked her legs up off the brunette’s lap, “Bed? I just want to die in your arms for the night.”

The detective stood up and helped the prosecutor to her feet, “Yes, come on beautiful, you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“Uggh don’t remind me,” Casey whined as they headed into the room.

Liv had trouble sleeping soundly through the night. She had woken up several times to make sure Casey was still there, she ran her fingers over her lover’s battered knuckles, lightly so as to not wake her. All she ever wanted to do was protect her and if a cop had no problem knocking her to the ground, what would happen if she had a run-in with an unruly perp. She knew the redhead would tell her she could handle herself and not to worry, but she did worry. It was the unspoken thing that neither one of them dared utter out loud and she’d take on anyone who dared hurt the woman fast asleep against her chest.

********

Casey walked through Brittany’s testimony in court the next day. Of course, Riff tried to make it sound as if hers and Kressler’s clients were hostages in the whole situation. Their expert witness, Dr. Sopher, attested to the fact that girls without strong leader instincts will not have the willpower to react in those types of situations when under the influence of someone like Brittany.

Casey went over her notes a few times and then stood up for her cross-examinations. “Wow,” she said trying not to let the dripping sarcasm overpower her message, “To hear you talk, we’d expect to see packs of teenaged girls roaming the streets killing people.”

“No,” Dr. Sopher stated from the stand, “The group was under the influence of one girl intent on murder.”

“So, you’re saying it’s impossible for a teenager to have free will in a group?” The prosecutor tilted her head, her brow scrunched.

The psychiatrist shook her head, “If she has a strong will, she can withstand the desire to conform.”

Casey walked back towards her table, she motioned towards the defense. “So, then the defendants are just weak.”

“Perhaps a simple explanation” Sopher scoffed, brushing Casey off as being overly naïve.

The ADA turned on her heel back towards the witness stand. “The last time I checked, being weak isn’t an excuse for murder. It’s just pathetic.”

“Objection!” Kressler whined.

“Sustained.”

Casey gave a wry smile, “Nothing further.”

Andrea was next to take the stand, she spun a sob story about how emotionally distressed she had become since the murder, not being able to eat or sleep. The redheaded attorney listened intently studying the defendant’s body language as Kressler question his client.

“I only set it up because I thought we were just going to talk to her about being a bad friend. It was my birthday, so I told her we were going out to celebrate.” The young blonde said from the stand.

Casey’s ear perked up as she started shuffling files around on the table in front of her double checking something in her paperwork, she had one of those gut hunches, and after seeing the relevant information right there in front of her in black and white, she knew she had her.

Kressler walked back to the defense nodding to the ADA that she was up for cross.

“You feel bad now,” Casey said pushing herself out of her chair and adjusting the sleeves of her shirt, she knew she was right, but it was always nerve racking to get to it. “For everything that happened to Emily.”

“Yes, I threw up the next morning.”

“You said your cover story was going out to celebrate your birthday. January. That makes you a Capricorn, right?” The ADA walked closer to the witness stand, she was tall enough that the closer she got the more intimidating she was.

“Yeah…” Andrea rolled her eyes.

“What’s your birthstone?” Casey asked with an inquiring nod.

“Objection!” Kressler complained again. “Relevance.”

The prosecutor held up her hand, “I’m getting to it your Honor.”

Petrovsky stared her down, “Hurry it up Ms. Novak.” She turned towards the defendant, “the witness will answer.”

“My birthstone is Garnet.” The young teenager answered, her lips tight pursed.

“That’s what I thought,” Casey continued, her eyes traveling down to the defendant’s hands. “I see you wearing your class ring. That’s my birthstone—sapphire.” She brought herself eye level with Andrea, her voice getting slightly more aggressive, “That’s my birthstone. September birthday. Do you know who else had a September birthday, Andrea?”

“Objection!” Kressler jumped up yelling. It was as if it was the only word left in his vocabulary.

“Overruled.” Petrovsky snapped.

“Didn’t Emily have a September birthday?” The redhead walked back towards the prosecutors’ table and turned around to face Andrea.

“I don’t know.”

Casey turned towards the jury, “Emily had a class ring, it was engraved with her name. It was never found with her body.” She pointed to the judge, “Your Honor, would you instruct the defendant to remove her ring?”

“Hand it to me,” Petrovsky ordered.

“Paige gave it to me! She took it off of Emily after she was dead!” Andrea uttered excitedly. It was at this moment that the courtroom erupted into chaos.

********

Liv and Elliot were waiting outside of the courtroom. The brunette couldn’t wait to get her girlfriend home, watching her be so good at her job got her eager for the other things Casey was good at.

The young ADA walked out smiling from ear to ear, pleased with her performance today. “Guilty on all counts.”

Elliot looked at his watch then back at Casey, “Fifteen-minute jury verdict. That’s very impressive, Counselor.” Liv watched the redhead in awe. Stabler’s phone rang as Liv and Casey headed towards the elevator.

“Yeah, remind me to give you the names of all the girls I hated in high school.” The detective chuckled.

Casey laughed, “Takes you back, doesn’t it? I hated it the first time around.” She looked back towards Elliot, “is he looking?”

Liv raised an eyebrow, “I think so.”

As the two women stepped on to the elevator, Liv leaned up against the rail as Casey got impossibly close to her. “It looks like you have some lint on your jacket Detective, let me get that.” She started pretending to pick at Liv’s coat, getting closer than necessary, making sure not to actually kiss her. The brunette wasn’t going to lie, this was making her feel some type of way.

Elliot ran after them, holding the elevator door before it could close fully. “Olivia,” he stopped, now flustered holding up his pointer finger. “We’re gonna circle back to this later but Westchester PD just called. Shots fired at Tanner Day High School.

********

Later that night at her apartment she laid across Casey’s lap as the redhead stroked her hair affectionately. “It was awful Case,” obviously distraught, “those girls went to jail and someone else just picked up bullying this poor girl. She just kept saying ‘It was never going to stop.’ So, she just shot her in cold blood.”

The young woman listened compassionately, “Olivia, you can only do so much, these girls all needed psychological help, a lot of the blame falls on the school in this case. You always do everything you can.” She leaned down and kissed her girlfriend.

“Sometimes it’s not enough.”

“I think you are more than enough.” She smiled softly looking down, “I…” she started to say something else and then changed her mind, “I think we should watch a movie and get your mind off things.” She scooted herself down so that she was spooning Liv on the sofa, wrapping her arms around the brunette, one hand under her shirt.

Liv pulled her arms tighter, “As long as I’m with you I’ll be fine.” She felt the ADA kiss the top of her head.

“Mmm, I’m not going anywhere, not without my detective. Although can we maybe stay at my place next time? I love being here with you but at least my bathtub is big enough for the both of us.” She chuckled.

The brunette laughed, “You got it, Counselor. Don’t need my prosecutor’s needs neglected.” The redhead squeezing her playfully as they settled in. They fell asleep like that that night. Impossibly close.

Read Part 5

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